Soccer scenes in North Korean novels

I'm willing to bet that in every culture, sports stories are used to impress values upon young people, or in other words to indoctrinate them. And what sport is more universally beloved across cultures than soccer? 

The Beautiful Game has been featured in many North Korean novels over the years. Here are some of my favorite scenes:

North Korean team training session during the
2010 World Cup in Johannesburg
Src: Frank Augstein/AP

Young Kim Il Sung teaches value of teamwork

The important novel 1000-ri Road of Learning (1971) by Kang Hyo Soon features a scene in which a very young Kim Il Sung observes a middle school soccer match in colonial Pyongyang alongside his schoolmates. Although he is canonically about 11 in this scene, he is referred to throughout as the Great Marshal (대원수님). 

I discussed the significance of this novel before a while back. As I explained then, it is not technically part of the "Imperishable History" Series, but the first edition was published one year before the first official Series novel, and it can be considered a precursor and model for what the Series would become. It is certainly an established classic of the leader representation genre, and I understand that North Korean schoolchildren usually read it in sixth grade, around the age that Kim was in the story.

   The spectators were watching intently, as the match was close from the start. Both teams, Kwangsŏng and Sŏngdŏk, attracted large audiences and were formidable opponents.

   15 minutes into the first half, Sŏngdŏk scored a goal with good form. The audience cheered and applauded. A middle-aged man, apparently a Sŏngdŏk parent, walked out in front of the students and did a little dance, swishing the fringes of his durumaki jacket.

   The game continued. The Kwangsŏng team, unwavering in their determination, encouraged one another and fought fiercely. Near the end of the first half, Kwangsŏng scored a goal. Thus, the first half ended 1-1.

   The second half began. Both sides were formidable. The teams pushed back and forth, sweating profusely, but neither could find a way to score. Then, with only five minutes remaining, the Kwangsŏng team finally got a shot in. Instantly, excitement boiled over in the stadium. In this way, the victory was won by Kwangsŏng School. 

   The Great Marshal thought about many things while watching the game.

   Clearly, in terms of individual skills, Sŏngdŏk was better than Kwangsŏng. However, the Sŏngdŏk athletes had grown arrogant after scoring that goal in the first half, and they then lost their lead to Kwangsŏng while busy showing off their individual skills. On the other hand, the Kwangsŏng team excelled in teamwork rather than individual skills.

   As a soccer team captain, the Great Marshal felt inspired to make a lesson of this. 

   He observed the Kwangsŏng School players in their black overalls and red shirts, and saw that Number 6 was the standout. Whenever the ball came to his side, he'd rush in to snatch it, and when it went to the other team, he'd dash over and kick it away. When the ball hovered around the center, he'd rush to steal it and kick it to a teammate. Number 6 also scored the final goal. When he scored, the crowd roared with joy, and the Kwangsŏng students banged drums, waved flags, and shouted cheers until their eardrums were about to burst. 

   "Dŏkbŏm, if you practice a little, you can probably kick like that Kwangsŏng number 6 player, right?" The Great Marshal asked.

   "No, I've still got a long way to go," said Dŏkbŏm, shaking his head.

   "Are those kids so special? If we work at it hard, we can do even better!" replied Yun Byŏng.

   "Yun Byŏng’s right. We’ve got to resolve ourselves to do better. Do that, and there's nothing we can't accomplish."

   These were the words of the Great Marshal.

   It wasn't just to watch a soccer match that the Great Marshal came into town with His comrades that day. His purpose was to stir their resolve and spirits by showing them the skills of great athletes.

A soccer match in colonial Pyongyang, July 1925
(src: 마니아타임즈)

The motif of teamwork triumphing over "arrogant" players "showing off their individual skills" sounded very familiar to me, and sure enough, a North Korean veteran athlete uses exactly the same language as this novel, almost word-for-word, in describing his team's triumph over Australia in the documentary "The Game of Their Lives." To be fair, it sounds like that is a pretty good summary of what actually went down. It's tough to say who inspired whom here - the Australia match happened in 1965, this novel was first published in 1971, and the documentary aired in 2002.

The little band of friends featured here does more than just kick some balls around - young Kim organizes them into an underground study group before leaving again for Manchuria. It was important for the Party to maintain the legend of an alternate domestic leftist group founded by Kim Il Sung and independent of Pak Hŏn Yŏng's Korean Communist Party. But KIS left Korea in 1925 at age 13 and did not return until after liberation. So, as unlikely as it sounds, this rambunctious gang of pre-teens goes on to form the core of a fabled Pyongyang-based faction of socialist agitators operating so deep underground that nobody heard about them until the 1960s. And what better way to have a young boy teach his mates the spirit of the collective than via sports analogies.

Even younger Kim Jong Il also teaches teamwork 

Fire Cloud (1991) by Pak Hyŏn is the second entry in the Imperishable Leadership series but the first in chronological order, set in 1950-53. And I can hear you asking: But that series focuses on the deeds of Kim Jong Il, so how can it possibly cover a period when he was only about 8-10 years old? Well, good question! Fire Cloud is probably the best book for examining how North Korea's novelists handle the tricky task of depicting one of their revered leaders in his Pokemon days. 

Kim Jong Il in 1950 
(Src: Sipa Press / Rex Features)

It seems like nobody definitively knows where the younger Kim spent the war years, but in this scene he is staying in a remote northern town along with his sister and a guardian. It is implied that this is somewhere well away from the fighting but still within North Korea's borders.

As always, the capitalized He/Him pronouns indicate the leader Kim (Kim Jong Il in this case), mirroring the honorific pronoun 그이 in the original. The author relies on these honorifics to an unusual degree in the text below to distinguish KJI from the other children. The author makes strenuous efforts to avoid having any of the children address KJI by a name, meaning ironically that they sometimes have to actually say "hey you" [야] to get his attention. It isn't even clear what name they might know him by, as it's implied that nobody in the village except a few trusted guardians know of his true identity. The omnipotent narrator however always refers to KJI as "young leader comrade" [어리신 지도자동지] with full honorific verbs.

This scene starts as KJI is called to join an impromptu soccer game by a hot-tempered young scamp named Ki Ryong, the local blacksmith's grandson. They're getting their butts kicked by another team led by a boy named Sang Su, and Ki Ryong is desperate for help:

   In the spacious front yard of Sang Su's house, beneath an old zelkova tree, the neighborhood children crowded together. They’d made goals out of some hats placed atop large rocks, and they were pushing and screaming, jostling each other, locked in a fierce battle.
   The two goalkeepers, who each had pieces of cardboard with the number 1 stuck on their backs, had already rolled on the ground several times and were looking just as ragged as Ki Ryong, but neither one took the time to dust off their clothes as they leaned forward, tensely watching the ball roll around.  

   Sang Su, wearing high-topped shoes with tightly tied laces, was locked in a fierce battle. Strong and a skilled runner, he led his team's attackers in a fierce charge, drenched in sweat. The other team's barefoot defense crumbled and fell back.

   Aghast, Ki Ryong ran over with Him in tow.

   The young leader, upon seeing the soccer field, felt relaxed, invigorated even. He swiftly removed His jacket, hung it on a zelkova tree branch, rolled up His pants, and ran into the middle of the field.

   "Hey! You came."

   "That’s enough of that, now let’s see what we can do."

   At the sight of Him, Ki Ryong's grim-looking teammates suddenly brightened, raising their fists and shouting at the opposing team.

   On the other side, Sang Su's gang grew uneasy.

   "Hey, if somebody new joins, somebody else has to leave. You can't just do that," Sang Su pouted.

   "You don't have to say anything, you can just leave now if you’re scared," Ki Ryong shot back with a soft fart. But he looked around his team, debating who to weed out. Deeming Nam Myŏng the weakest, he called him to leave. But neither Nam Myŏng nor any of the other kids were willing to quit. After a brief tussle, another boy joined Sang Su's side, evening out the teams.

   "All right, game on!" Play resumed. Ki Ryong moved swiftly to intercept the ball headed for Sang Su and passed it to the young leader, who drove it swiftly forward, but then made a sneaky side pass to Nam Myŏng, who was wide-open running parallel to Him. 

   "Why'd you pass it to Nam Myŏng? He'll lose it right away!" Ki Ryong shouted, startled to see Sang Su suddenly right behind and rushing to intercept. But Nam Myŏng denied him the steal, driving straight towards the goal.

   "Pass to me, to me!" Ki Ryong shouted again. So frantic was his urging that Nam Myŏng passed it over, and Ki Ryong suddenly had a clear shot to the goal. But Ki Ryong, seeing this perfect opportunity, got flustered and whiffed, stumbling and landing on top of the ball.

   The keeper on Sang Su's side quickly picked up the worn ball and tossed it far downfield to his teammates.

   "Some captain, couldn't even put that in!" Ki Ryong's teammates grumbled.

   Sang Su took the ball, and the ball was kicked back and forth, precariously close to the goal.

   From what He could see, it seemed that Ki Ryong's losses were not solely due to Sang Su's aggressive play. As team captain, Ki Ryong made no effort to coordinate but just drove the ball all by himself, hungry for a chance at the goal. But the ball kept getting stolen away from him, causing constant chaos.

   "Hey, stop just driving forward. Pass it, pass it. Pass to Nam Myŏng!" [KJI] shouted eagerly, but to no avail. Soon they were down another goal.

Boys playing soccer in Pyongyang, 2011
(src: Getty Images/alexkuehni)

   The whistle shrilled. "6-0!" Chang Gil proclaimed. [...] 

   With a thorny temper like a spiny crab, Chang Gil was the natural referee of this soccer field. He wore a dignified expression, fully exercising his authority and observing proper etiquette. He would place the ball on the imaginary center line, ensuring that the players were in their proper positions, and only then would he blow his whistle to resume play.

   "The ball is for everyone to kick, but you keep trying to hog it all yourself, and then you keep losing it," He scolded Ki Ryong as they followed Chang Gil, once more carrying the ball to the center line.

   "You can’t hold off all these kids on your own. You need to keep passing. If you keep it going back and forth, Sang Su's guys will get worn out chasing it."

   Feeling guilty but unable to think of an excuse, Ki Ryong just blinked and mumbled incomprehensibly.

   [KJI] devised a strategy: He, Nam Myŏng, and Ki Ryong would form a triangle, passing among each other as they advanced. The other four would defend in the middle, providing support.

   He took the ball at the center line, calmly drove it forward a few steps, and then passed to Nam Myŏng, who waited for Sang Su's teammate to converge on him and then quickly sent it to Ki Ryong. This time, Ki Ryong heeded His advice. Instead of going solo, he drew the opposing players toward him like Nam Myŏng had done. He ran with it almost to the goal, then kicked it back to Him. At a run, He intercepted the ball as it flew towards Him and kicked with all His might. The ball shot between the gatekeeper's legs like a bullet.

   "Goal."

   Ki Ryong, who had been fuming from so many losses, now skipped and cheered.

   After that first goal, the whole team’s spirits lifted, and they continued their attack with renewed vigor. Soon after, Nam Myŏng sent the ball soaring impressively again.

   "Hey, you're quite a good kicker," Ki Ryong poked Nam Myŏng in the side.

   Because Nam Myŏng was so quiet and reserved, Ki Ryong had thought he’d lack the power for soccer, and he'd given him a hard time for every bad kick. But now, to his surprise, he saw that Nam Myŏng was quite agile and had decent ball handling skills.

   Nam Myŏng simply wiped the sweat from his face and smiled.

   Once they started to get pushed back, Sang Su's forces had a hard time fending off attacks from their better-coordinated rival. After half an hour, the score was tied at 11-11. As the odds evened out, the gameplay became more intense, with players from both teams colliding and falling more frequently.

   Sang Su gathered his players to whisper about some tactic, and whatever it was, the team's moves changed. They’d shake off every attacker and surround the ball so that it was impossible to approach, then drive forward with a collective shout.

   Caught off guard by this bizarre attack, Ki Ryong scrambled to counter it. He tried grabbing Sang Su's arms with both hands, and when that didn't work, he desperately tripped him, sending them both tumbling to the ground. Several other boys fell on top of them in a heap, laughing. Just then Chang Gil came running up, eyes wide, whistle blaring.

   "What are you doing? That's a foul, a foul!" Chang Gil huffed and began rummaging through his pockets for something. When he couldn't find what he wanted, he pulled out the first thing at hand, a pocketknife, and solemnly held it up in front of Ki Ryong's nose.

   "What’s this?" Ki Ryong looked bewildered.

   "Don’t you know what this is? It's a referee's sign. You've got a warning."

   "Warning? What does that even mean?"

   "You don't know? Two warnings and you're off the field."

   "Is there even such a thing?"

   "Oh, come on. You don't even know the rules of soccer." Chang Gil gaped. "You tripped him on purpose. If this were a proper stadium game, you'd’ve been kicked out long ago."

   "Pfft, what for?"

   "What? Are you talking back to the referee? I'll send you off right now. Players must obey the referee no matter what. Don't you even know that?"

   Chang Gil's fierce scowl left Ki Ryong speechless, overwhelmed by his "sophisticated" soccer knowledge. As a referee, Chang Gil was indeed formidable. 

The gameplay continues until the boys' mothers begin calling them all in for supper. Sang Su has to almost be dragged off the field by his mother before he will accept defeat. Ki Ryong basks in the glow of victory until his own mother comes to fetch him. At last Kim Jong Il is left to walk home alone. None of the boys seem to realize that he has nobody to come for him – his mother is dead, and his father is far away at Central Command, desperately fighting for their country's future. The chapter ends poetically with young KJI sadly watching some geese fly southward.

The message here, once again, is practice teamwork, do not arrogantly try to seize all the glory for yourself, trust your teammates, learn their strengths, and also maybe try not to lose your temper on the field. Of course it goes without saying that it's the young leader who kicks in the only attributed goal. 

I liked the way he scored that goal between the legs of the goalkeeper, because that was my signature move in high school. I played forward, just like the young comrade leader, but I was an exceptionally clumsy child and could never master any kind of fancy footwork. So whenever I came up against a defender, I'd make as if planning some clever move but then just kick the ball straight ahead. It went right between the defender's legs every time, and then I'd just run past them. Of course I couldn't try that too many times in one game or they would catch on, but our team was so rarely on the offensive that it always worked out. Really demoralized the opponents too. I still feel kind of bad about it.

Soccer Fans on the High Seas

In between narrating the various Cold War crises of the late 1960s and engaging scenes involving major world leaders, Fate (2012) by Chŏng Ki Jong takes a break to cover North Korea's strong showing in the 1966 World Cup. First, we see Kim Il Sung putting off an important meeting with the new Hungarian ambassador to personally greet the players, whom he already seems well familiar with:

North Korea's 1966 World Cup team (Src: AP)

   The Great Leader, smiling brightly, looked around at each and every player sitting in the front row. “All our familiar comrades are here, eh? Pak Du Ik, Pak Sŭng Jin, Han Bong Jin, Ha Jŏng Won, and then Rim Sŏng Hui… and the comrade next to Rim Joong Sŏn is Ri Chan Myŏng, the keeper for our Korea! And this comrade is Ri Dong Won? No, no, it’s Yang Sŏng Guk. Ah, that’s Ri Dong Won over there, next to Comrade Kim Sŏng Il, right? So, Coach Yŏn Sŭng Chŏl, tell me. Have I correctly recognized all of our wonderful players?”

   Coach Yŏn Sŭng Chŏl sprung from his seat. “Yes, that’s all correct!” Yŏn shouted hoarsely, unable to control his overwhelming emotion. “Thank you, Great Leader!”

   Then, as if by plan, all the players whose names had been called stood up from their seats and shouted in unison: “Thank you, Great Leader!”

   Shouts loaded with emotion… The leader raised His hand again and told them all to sit down.

   “What? The entire nation knows your names, not just me. Come, sit. Sit down, I said. Actually, I should be the one thanking you, comrades. You have done a great thing. How incredible was that competition? Only one team can advance to the main tournament from all of Asia, Africa, and Oceania. I can't tell you how happy the entire nation is right now after hearing the news that our North Korean team will be going to the 8th World Cup Championship.”

   He recalled what happened in the Asian preliminaries of this 8th World Cup, which were held in the Cambodian capital city Phnom Penh in November 1965. “When you played against the Australian team, which boasted of being the strongest in Asia, we were all on edge from the start waiting for news. Actually, even though Australia is in the Eastern Hemisphere, almost all of them are Anglo-Saxon descendants, are they not. So it would not be an exaggeration to say that we were playing against the English team. Sports Guidance Committee Chairman, am I right?”

   The chairman of the Sports Guidance Committee straightened his back and answered, “Yes, Great Leader. That’s right. Also, I hear they went somewhere in England where the climate is similar to Cambodia’s and trained hard for two months before the match.”

   “Hmm… And yet, we beat the Australian team 6-1 in the first match. I hear that the Cambodians cheered enthusiastically when we won?”

   “Yes, that's right,” the chairman of the Sports Guidance Committee replied. "In fact, Prince Norodom Sihanouk of Cambodia had not forgotten that Australia fought in the Korean War as one of the 15 allied countries [추종국가]. So, considering that the two countries were enemies, he divided the Cambodian spectators into two cheering groups, wanting to ensure fairness. But when our team won, all the fans stood up and cheered.”

   He laughed aloud. “How refreshing. In the war, we defeated them with guns, but today, we’re doing it with a soccer ball.”

All of the players' names seem faithfully reproduced, except for no. 16 Ri Dong Won [리동원] whose real name seems to be 리동운, although that may be Wikipedia's mistake. Also, the team's head coach was Myŏng Nye Hyŏn [명례현], but Yŏn Sŭng Chŏl may have been some other administrator. I translated 책임지도원 as "coach" based on the context, but that could be the word for the party secretary in charge of the team.

It's true that FIFA rules that year only allowed a single team to advance to the main tournament from all of Asia, Africa, and Oceania for some BS reason. In protest of this rule, all of Africa and most of Asia boycotted, with the result being that Australia and North Korea were the only ones left to compete. Cambodia was chosen as neutral ground for the match, and the Cambodian fans were indeed split into two groups for fairness. The bit about Australians traveling to England for training is backwards though - in fact, that team was more English than Australian, and they chose a training ground near Cairns for its similarity to Cambodia's climate.

Later, the winning match against Italy is narrated in an interesting way from the POV of a leading character, Pak Yu Jin, who happens to be serving as political officer aboard a North Korean fishing trawler at the time. As the match plays over the shipboard radio, Pak and the crew listen with bated breath:

   “Our team's number 15, Yang Sŏng Guk, driving the ball, crosses the midline. Blocked by Italian No. 6, crosses left to Han Bong Jin, Han Bong Jin shoots with his left foot! Ah, crosses to number 8 Pak Sŭng Jin... Pak Sŭng Jin struggles as Italy's No. 3 player rushes at him... Brings the ball forward, and now number 9 takes it and shoots! This time the Italian keeper kicks the ball far over the halfway line on our side. Our No. 6 Rim Sŏng Hui runs in and intercepts... Italy's captain No. 12 moves in from the middle right to attack...” 

   His chest got so tight that it felt hard to even breathe. Beside Yu Jin, the captain kept grabbing his arm, crushing it. Behind him, [a sailor] pounded his back with hard fists, as if trying to crush him.  

   “Italy’s no. 9 and 10 are making short passes approaching our goal. Stealing past our numbers 5 and 3... Oh, that was too close. But here’s our final defender, number 2!... yes, good, finally stopped it... But the ball’s outside the line. Italy’s a strong team, and their numbers 9 and 10, who launched that joint strike, are the world-renowned Rivera and Mazzulta. Italy's number 6 throws the ball, number 9 connects, passing it back to number 10, and now they’re making short passes back and forth... Now here's number 10 coming in from deep to the right. Number 10 Mazzulta shoots! Ah, our Ri Chan Myŏng jumps up to meet it, but… the ball crossed over.”  [Probably: No. 14 Sandro Mazzola and No. 19 Gianni Rivera, both forwards]

   They'd lost all track of the flow of time. It was a game in which fate was staked, a game in which the honor, pride, and dignity of them all was staked.

   “Big brother,” [a sailor] said, sobbing. “I feel like I am going to die of suffocation and shaking. Big brother, what am I going to do?”

    “Shut up!” shouted Captain Tae Gyu, red-eyed.

    “Nearing the 34 minute mark, and so far, both teams have been fighting fiercely without a goal. It’s still a speed race for our team... Our number 11 Han Bong Jin passes to number 5 Rim Joong Sŏn, Rim Joong Sŏn to Pak Du Ik, Pak Du Ik to Pak Sŭng Jin... Pak Sŭng Jin breaks through the Italians’ defensive line. Italy's captain comes running in... Ah, he slides in to steal it... No, it's kicked away. Pak Sŭng Jin goes flying over him... But what’s this whistle? Is it a foul?!... Yes – 

Italy’s captain Bulgarelli gets a yellow card for deliberately kicking a leg. But… Now he's down and can't get up. While pretending slip during the steal, he kicked our player's leg, and Pak Sŭng Jin swiftly jumped over his body, but it seems he got hurt somewhere? The match has been suspended. Oh, finally, Italy's Captain Bulgarelli is being carried out on a stretcher."

Captain Bulgarelli injured on the field

   Pak Yu Jin jumped up and shook his fist and shouted, “Good job!― Pak Sŭng Jin!―” Never before had he shouted so loudly with such mad agitation. This wasn't just soccer, it was a war of fighting spirit, perseverance, and mental strength. 

   Then it happened. The dramatic words that Pak Yu Jin, the fishermen of trawler boat No. 56, and all people of our country would never forget for the rest of their lives finally passed over the airwaves.

   “Now at almost 41 minutes into game time, our team is on the attack again. Only speed, only attack... Ah, here’s a good chance... Number 7 Pak Du Ik gets the ball from the midfielder, rushes to the left flank, steals past Italy's number 3... Pak Du Ik has his arm grabbed by Italy's No. 3, but rushes through the gap like lightning and kicks with his right foot!

   “Shoo-oot!” The choked voice of the announcer passed through his heart like an electric current... By this point, Announcer Ri Sang Byŏk's tumultuous words mingled with the violent beating of his own heart.

   “Goooaaal! It’s in. Our Pak Du Ik finally made it to the Italian goal! Korea kicked a goal past the world-leading Italian team!”

   Everyone got up from their seats. Who was the first to cry out with a choked voice? “Goal! Goal!”

I can't find the whole game online, but from the clips I've seen, this seems to more or less follow the action of the real game. The times in particular are accurate. I know that the Italian captain was carried out with an injury, and that was a big moment in the game. Here's some actual footage: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bqd20eUv9BI

After the goal is scored, the narration skips pretty quickly to the end of the game, when the crew all jump up and hug each other tearfully. 

Soon after, the sailors are startled to see a Soviet ship speeding in their direction. Luckily, Pak Yu Jin studied abroad and speaks fluent Russian:

    At that moment, the sound of a whistle echoed from a Soviet maritime patrol ship cutting through the waves. As he struggled to hear, a high shriek sounded from the loudspeaker of the approaching patrol boat.

   "Корейская команда!― Силинейшая! Поздравляем Корейских футболистов с победой над  итальянцами!"

   Yu Jin waved to them. “Спасибо."

   "What did they say?" shouted the captain.

   "They said Korea is very strong," Yu Jin shouted back. "They congratulate the Korean team on beating the Italians!"

The captain instructs a sailor to invite the Russians aboard. With Yu Jin acting as sole interpreter, the two groups enjoy a bi-national celebration on the high seas. 

The Russian language above was rendered in hangul in the novel, and has been painstakingly transposed here into (probably flawed) cyrillic for legibility. Because that's the kind of full-service translation you can expect here at dprklit.

Here are some good articles about North Korea in the 1966 World Cup: 

https://www.history.co.uk/article/north-korea-the-secret-heroes-of-the-1966-world-cup

https://bleacherreport.com/articles/1998811-italy-world-cup-rewind-humiliation-at-the-hands-of-korea-1966

I also recommend checking out the aforementioned documentary The Game of Their Lives which includes interviews with the seven team members still surviving in 2002. 

New Translated NK Fiction Anthology: Hidden Heroes

Earlier this year, Anthem Press published an anthology of North Korean short fiction selected and translated into English by North Korean literature scholars Immanuel Kim and Benoit Berthelier. Titled Hidden Heroes: Anthology of North Korean Fiction, the book sets out to showcase stories of everyday North Koreans' struggles that were part of the "hidden heroes" theme campaign launched by the Korean Writers' Union in 1980. As Kim & Berthelier describe it in their introduction: "While past heroes basked in fame and glory proportional to their extraordinary deeds, the new hidden heroes humbly worked their mundane jobs and diligently carried out their political duties. They assisted the collective without anyone knowing and yet were presented as essential to the functioning of the country’s socialist system." This movement coincided with something of a renaissance in North Korean literary quality in the 1980s and early 1990s, generating stories far more lyrically expressive and less dogmatic than anything seen on the pages of Chosŏn Munhak today. 

Two of the ten stories included in this book were previously summarized right here on this very blog way back in 2016-17, in two of my earliest efforts: A Shift Manager's Day (a.k.a. "A Day in the Life of a Female Manager") and Neighbors. This seemingly incredible coincidence becomes less incredible when I remember where I found those particular stories - they were both in an anthology of North Korean short stories "Where the Cuckoo Bird Sings" [뻐꾹새가 노래하는 곳] put out by South Korean publisher Sallimtŏ in 1994. Such a publication was possible in the early 1990s, at the height of a renaissance in inter-Korean cultural exchange, but as I recall the publisher was later raided by the NIS and charged with illegally possessing North Korean materials in violation of the National Security Law. A friend in Seoul lent me an old copy, and in the first year of this blog that was one of the few sources of North Korean fiction available to me. I also reviewed "Fragrance of Life" from that same anthology.

Comparing the two anthologies, I see that Kim and Berthelier's selection overlaps with Sallimtŏ on a total of three stories: in addition to the two already mentioned, they also included '행운'에 대한 기대 by Han Ung Bin, which they translated as "Hoping for Luck to Strike". Coincidentally, Sallimtŏ is the same press that in 1995 published a South Korean edition of Paek Nam Nyong's "Friend", the same novel later translated into English and published to great acclaim by Immanuel Kim. Of all the gin joints in all the world...

The editors of "Hidden Heroes" say they made a conscious decision to avoid stories about the leader Kims, as these "would have further reinforced and entrenched preconceptions of North Korean literature as mere hagiographical propaganda when [...] the cult-of-personality genre is only practiced by a few chosen authors and does not constitute the majority of literary production." This may be true if one looks at the totality of North Korean literature from 1945 onward, giving equal weight to each title, and limiting the definition of "Leader hagiographies" to stories that literally feature one of the leader Kims as a speaking character. 

However, not all North Korean literature is created equal. The leader-centric novels of the three "Imperishable" series receive far greater attention, larger print runs on better quality paper with longer-lasting binding, more reprintings, far wider circulation, and greater emphasis in required educational curricula than any other novels. The “few chosen authors” who write Kim stories include all of the most celebrated names in contemporary North Korean literature. Aside from the Imperishable Series novels, short stories published in the monthly journal Chosŏn Munhak featuring the leaders can be up to twice as long as other stories and always come first in the print order. 

Moreover, even stories by lower-ranked authors who cannot portray the leaders directly almost always have a core political message pointing back to the Leader or Party. In this blog, we have seen time and again how lower-ranked authors work around their restrictions by creating a character clearly modeled on the leader who guides the protagonists toward the necessary epiphany, or by having the protagonist find inspiration at a pivotal moment by seeing the Leader's car tracks or recalling one of his famous quotations or listening to an inspirational song mix sent over by the Leader, etc. 

In addition, it should be pointed out that politics-heavy stories have become more pervasive in the Kim Jong Un era, and the time frame of the selection hints at the difficulty the editors had avoiding such contents. None of the stories included in "Hidden Heroes" are particularly fresh – the newest was originally published in 2009, and most are over thirty years old. Of course, since these ten stories were allegedly selected for their representation of the "hidden heroes" movement, which started in 1980, it is possible that this simply reflects the limits of the movement's lifespan. However, as someone who generally covers more recent output, I assess that the "hidden heroes" theme is still very much alive in North Korean literary fiction today – the difference is that the quality of the prose has declined sharply since the 1990s, and such stories have grown more overtly dogmatic with stronger political messages. As examples from this blog, I could point to "Night Path" (July 2016),"Morning of Departure" (September 2016), and "Our Heavens" (November 2017). 

The editors endeavored to avoid "selecting texts primarily based on their appeal to foreign readers" since this "would have required us to justify a collection of historically and stylistically unrelated works compiled based on the aesthetic criteria of a foreign readership." I am not sure if they entirely succeeded in this regard. The fact that no recent "hidden heroes" stories are included suggests to me that the selections were made for their literary quality at the expense of representativeness. Certainly, the editors of the overlapping Sallimtŏ anthology made no bones about deliberately choosing the highest-quality stories by South Korean standards in order to show off the very best of North Korean short fiction in hopes of fostering a sense of common humanity and respect, while studiously avoiding stories with off-putting political contents. 

I remember how I struggled with those Sallimtŏ stories because of their challenging vocabulary and advanced literary idioms, and how everything got so much easier once I finally got access to the more recent fiction with its simplistic grammar, repetitive vocabulary, and too-proper speech. I also remember showing one of the Sallimtŏ stories to a young North Korean defector friend who was totally blown away by the quality of the writing. She said she had never seen anything like it in her 17 years of actually living in North Korea and reading the officially assigned texts.

Of course, it would do little good to take up time and space translating a bunch of dogmatic ideological stories about the glorious achievements of the Korean Workers Party and its heroic leaders. The editors are correct in saying that to do so would only magnify already well-cemented stereotypes about North Korea. However, I do wish they had included one or two stories from the last decade to show the contrast in quality and give a better sense of the current status and trajectory of North Korean fiction. Doing so would also help insulate them from prickly "well-actually" critiques by negative nellies like myself. As it stands, readers are likely to come away from this anthology with an unrealistically rose-tinted impression of contemporary North Korean literature that overlooks the very real problems that come with putting an all-powerful political party in charge of all literary production.

Anyway, it was fun for me to look back on these stories that I had wallowed through back when I was still really struggling with the grammar and idioms of literary North Korean language. I remember back then I had a thing about not gendering characters based solely on their names or professions, which meant I had to wait for the story to use a term like "sister" "husband" "그녀" etc or else hunt for clues in speech patterns. It seems that Kim & Berthelier's translations support all of my guesses. I screwed up some of the textile-weaving vocabulary in "A Shift Manager's Day", but otherwise I think I did all right.

Personally my favorite part of the book, and probably its most useful contribution for most researchers, is the short introductions preceding each story. These give important context about the real socio-political issues at play behind each story as well as biographical details about the authors and their career paths. I only wish there were citations for some of those biographical details, so one could know for certain if they are relying on official North Korean publications or more independent sources, like the exile interviews in Tatiana Gabroussenko's Soldiers on the Cultural Front. We have seen before how official North Korean biographies can exaggerate or omit important details, sometimes to emphasize an author's humble and "ordinary" origins, and sometimes for no clear reason.

Full disclosure: Immanuel Kim is a friend of mine, and Benoit Berthelier was an early supplier of many stories reviewed on this blog.

Great Love (#1): North Korean writer 'ships Hitler-Queen Victoria romance

Reading North Korean literature, one encounters more than the usual share of falsehoods. Most of these have obvious background motives - making a Party policy seem more successful, justified, or necessary. Making the country's actions seem more important, its people more envied in the eyes of the world. Making their continued isolation and resistance of reform seem like a very prescient and wise choice. Then again, some falsehoods are not exactly "lies" so much as honest mistakes, likely stemming from limited or poorly translated resource materials, amusing but understandable.

But every once in a while, I come across a real head-scratcher, such as the one that stopped me in my tracks recently while reading the 1987 novel "Great Love" [위대한 사랑] by Ch'oi Ch'ang Hak.

What might have been?

The novel is the 11th entry in the important "Imperishable History" series of novels narrating the life of Kim Il Sung. Set in colonial Manchuria in summer 1937, most of the action is centered around Kim and his band of guerrillas. The novel also tangentially covers the Marco Polo Bridge incident [7.7사변] and the outbreak of the second Sino-Japanese war, and includes some interesting character sketches of Kwantung Army officers involved in the "punitive force" that hunted down resistance leaders in Manchukuo.

One of the more morally ambiguous Japanese characters in this novel is the journalist Kobayashi, a veteran reporter newly deployed as a war correspondent on the Manchuria front. As often is the case, the Japanese journalist character seems less bloodthirsty and more intelligent than his military counterparts and serves as a relatively honest witness to their machinations and foibles, while nonetheless dutifully parrotting their lies. When we first encounter Kobayashi, he is fresh off of a long multi-country tour with his newspaper's CEO [사장님] and newly arrived on the Manchuria front. 

Arriving in camp, he is swiftly taken under the wing of "punitive force" Commander Umiyama. Weary of life on the front and desperate for news of the wider world, Umiyama eagerly quizzes Kobayashi on his recent world tour. This produces the following interaction:

   [Umiyama:] “Kobayashi, you must have seen so much. Which country did you visit first?”

   “England.”

   “England…”

   “Our CEO had been wanting to meet Queen Victoria for some time. England has been expanding overseas since the 16th century, and its colonies are 200 times the size of our own territory. It seems that our CEO found it strange that the storied old British Empire has a queen in a skirt.”

   Umiyama scooted closer to Kobayashi, growing animated. “Your CEO has great curiosity. So, how was it meeting her? She must be a great person, being the queen of the British Empire. Who was it that seduced Antony across the sea? Ah, yes, that was the Egyptian Queen Cleopatra. How does she compare?"

   “Well, there was nothing really special about her. Nothing really stood out. If there was one thing I could mention, it was that when she held out her hand, her fingernails were very long.”

   Kobayashi spoke casually, as if he had just visited a new elementary school teacher in a neighboring town. After all, accompanying the CEO of a large newspaper with a worldwide circulation, he had dealt with more than a dozen emperors, presidents, and prime ministers.

   “Well, how did such a woman become the queen of the British Empire? Is her skirt swish that strong? The British have strange tastes, I guess.” Umiyama tilted his head in puzzlement.

Queen Victoria in 1887

   “The throne is hereditary. That country has very strong hereditary traditions and customs. So strong, in fact, that despite being a constitutional monarchy, there is no written constitution –  traditions and customs take the place of the constitution. Chamberlain handles politics, and the woman lives a luxurious life as a symbol, attended by her servants, but that doesn't mean she is indifferent to politics. The queen secretly fears Hitler. So our CEO suggested that she should follow Cleopatra's example and cozy up to Hitler. To that, the queen answered that she was not beautiful enough to seduce Hitler, and anyway one of Hitler's peculiarities is that he avoids women. Haha!” Kobayashi laughed loudly and heartily.  [...]

   “It seems you had a nice conversation with the queen. So what was your impression of Hitler, whom the queen fears so much?”

   “Well, what can I say? He is representative of all the modern-day gangsters and madmen who are obsessed with self-confidence. That madman thinks that he alone can rule this world. Mussolini is similar to Hitler in temperament, but he is a bit more stupid… That gammy-legged Roosevelt in the White House showed a hint of arrogance and cunning…” [...]

   The more he talked, the more Umiyama clicked his tongue in wonder. “Ah, reporters have such mighty tongues. Even when the president refuses meeting requests from ministers, still he’ll talk to a reporter.”

Ex-King Edward VIII (Victoria's great-grandson) 
and his wife Wallis Simpson meeting Hitler in 1937

Even the casual student of European history will appreciate just how fanciful the above conversation is. Queen Victoria died in 1901 - it's one of those dates that is easy to remember. Her three grandsons were all grown men when they famously declared war on one another in 1914. Even for a woman of her considerable abilities, Queen Victoria would indeed have had a hard time seducing Hitler from beyond the grave.

Of course, the typical North Korean writer has limited resources and cannot just hop over to Wikipedia to check dates. The author of this novel, however, was a member of the ultra-elite 4.15 Literary Production Unit, the highest ranked writers in the country, who enjoy extraordinary privileges. They reportedly have offices in a gated complex in the suburbs of Pyongyang featuring an extensive library of foreign literature and source material. Furthermore, the editorial review process an Imperishable Series novel must undergo prior to publication is notoriously arduous. And even a North Korean encyclopedia will accurately relay the basic facts about the life and death of major historical figures. It is unlikely that this was an unwitting mistake. It is also unlikely that it would have gone completely unnoticed by educated North Korean readers.

Entry for Queen Victoria in the Grand (North) Korean 
Encyclopedia [조선대백과사전] (1999)

So, why lie? North Korean historical novels, as works of fiction, are free to take liberties with details, imagine conversations between historical individuals, or invent characters like Kobayashi to place amidst the action. However, they are not in the business of fantasy world-building or "what-if?"-style alternate history. Why not just stick to talking about the real monarch, who at that time was George VI?

Empress Cixi and her
iconic fingernails

My best guess is that the author wanted to write something about Queen Elizabeth II, but knew that that would be even less believable, and figured Victoria would be a more forgivable anachronism. Neither queen was known to have particularly long fingernails, but the detail brings to mind Empress Cixi, who was perhaps another inspiration here. The author seems to want to say something about the folly of modern constitutional monarchies, and perhaps a king was just not as compelling as a target of mockery.

The other part of the above conversation that may have history buffs scratching their heads is the unsparingly hostile attitude that these Japanese characters display specifically towards the leaders of Italy and Germany. Especially in the pivotal year of 1937, one might expect these men to have warmer regard for their new allies in the Anti-Comintern Pact. Yet the journalist Kobayashi seems to go out of his way to disparage Hitler and Mussolini even more than other world leaders, and the Kwantung Army commander raises no apparent objections. It really makes me question the author's priorities here. Any American novelist writing about this time period who wanted to make a Japanese character look bad would probably go for the low-hanging fruit of having him speak admiringly of the Nazis. Perhaps the author feared that readers would not be sophisticated enough to pick up on the idea of an unreliable narrator; or perhaps the priority was to show how duplicitous the Japanese privately are even toward ostensible friends, at the cost of making them seem less enthusiastic about fascism.

Incidentally, the titular "Great Love" refers not to Hitler-Victoria but to the love that motivated  Kim and his fellow guerrillas to care for young war orphans under their wing.

UPDATE 11/25 - On a recent visit to the archives, I checked out the 2021 reprinting of Great Love and discovered that this conversation has been neatly edited to eliminate mention of Queen Victoria. The relevant changed text now reads:

   "Our CEO had been wanting to visit England for some time now. After all, England has been expanding overseas since the 16th century and has many colonies. To our CEO, Great Britain must have seemed like a mythical land. But even Great Britain seemed terrified of the newborn Germany." Kobayashi laughed loudly and heartily. [...]

   "So, what was your impression of Hitler, whom even the British Empire fears so much?"

The book was first published in 1987 and a second printing in 1991 kept the Queen Victoria conversation intact, so apparently nobody thought to change it until the third edition came out in 2021. I'd love to have been a fly on the wall for that conversation.

Much Ado about Bush (2004): Mafia goons take over the White House

 "The Bush Uproar" [부쉬소동], or my preferred translation "Much Ado about Bush," is a sci-fi story by blog favorite Ŏm Ho Sam that appeared in Chŏngnyŏn Munhak in March 2004. I'd had my eye out for this one for a long time, and I finally got access to a copy. It did not disappoint.

Despite collecting a pretty exhaustive database, I've found no up-close depictions of President George W. Bush in any of the high-profile Imperishable Series novels. By contrast, Clinton appears in several, and Obama appears in two. Bush, it seems, was relegated to a handful of mocking poems and this one imaginative short story by a low-ranked writer who specializes in sci-fi (the same author would go on to write An Ordinary Day and Dignity). This was published in Chongnyon Munhak, the Party's literary magazine for emerging writers, indicating the author was less experienced than the typical Chosŏn Munhak writer and likely had less access to foreign reference materials – and it shows.

[Update November 2025: I spoke too soon! Bush II and his Cabinet are in fact depicted in Osŏngsan, an Imperishable Leadership Series novel published in 2012]. 

The story depicts a plot by a vaguely defined "middle eastern mafia organization" to kidnap President George W. Bush and replace him with an imposter, using technology similar to the kind that allowed Nicholas Cage and John Travolta to switch faces in the 1997 classic "Face/Off." 

The story features fanciful depictions of a dysfunctional First Family, NSA Condoleezza Rice leading a helicopter attack squadron in full combat gear, a chaotic proceeding before the US Supreme Court, and an alternate-reality Dick Cheney who willingly declines power.

The Plot

The story opens with Bush at his lakeside retreat, getting an unexpected early-morning visit from his daughter Jenna. They banter playfully, and he guesses (accurately) that she wants money. They chat via video call with Laura Bush, who is in Mexico City viewing a beauty pageant; Bush teases that she should enter the competition: "If you wear a bikini, I bet you'll win first prize." 

They are interrupted by Special Advisor Rice (특별보좌관 라이스), who says she has urgent business. Bush gives his daughter $20,000 (via "internet money transfer"), and Jenna flounces off, delighted.

Rice reports that some intruders were spotted lurking on the grounds. The guards chased after them but  only recovered a cryptic note: "A new adventure begins!"

Reading the note, Bush suddenly looks thoughtful – arousing Rice's suspicions. "Bush's eyes, which always looked gloomy or dull, now had the look of a gambler at a card table or a bank robber opening a safe full of cash. When she looked again, it was just his normal face, void of any sense of intelligence." 

Even more suspiciously, he tells her that the intruders are "part of a mafia group connected to Al Qaeda" and that they’re "targeting the hardliners who have declared war on terrorism," including himself. Without revealing where he got the information, he tells her that this mafia has a secret base at an isolated villa in the Rocky Mountains and orders her to "personally command the FBI and the Defense Department Special Forces" to "wipe them out mercilessly."

Two days later, Rice comes to report to Bush at the White House, fresh from the assault and still in her combat gear. Bush is eager for video confirmation that the compound has been destroyed. We get a birds-eye view of the attack on the compound, which has a lot of satisfying explosions and automatic weapons fire. Toward the end, there is a brief glimpse of two special forces soldiers supporting a limping man covered in blood. 

   “Wait, who is that?” Bush froze the screen and demanded, looking anxious.

   “That’s a man who’d been kidnapped. Luckily he was confined in the basement of the villa, so he survived, but he suffered severe injuries, memory loss, and speech paralysis. We haven't even determined his name and address yet.”

   “Shut up,” Bush suddenly snapped. Startled, Rice jumped up from her chair. Bush's profanity kicked up a notch. [...] “How many times must I repeat it before you understand? These terrorists are targeting American politicians. However, no one from the White House or Congress has yet been kidnapped. So that man must be a terrorist. Where is he now?”

   Rice could not hide her surprise when Bush's speech showed a glimmer of logic, however faint. When was the president ever so wise? In a crisis, does a dimwit suddenly sprout intelligence? 

Despite her suspicions, Rice promises to take care of it. Half an hour later, she returns with the disquieting news that the man apparently fled from a "charity hospital" where he'd been taken for treatment. The doctors believed he was mentally unstable. Bush appears upset at this news and orders that the man be found immediately and "shot on sight, whether he is out of his mind or not." 

Hoping to cheer him up, Rice hands him a letter that just arrived for him, "from a college classmate, I think." Bush waits until she leaves before tearing it open:

   “Paul, you know what betrayal means in our organization. Death will visit you within a few days. Understand that evading it is futile! Jefferson.”

   His face darkened as he read the lines.

   Paul was the real name of the man who was now pretending to be president. Jefferson was a senior researcher at the Carnegie Endowment and a leading member of the mafia.

   (So, Jefferson still lives? Oh, right, there were only 8 bodies found. So, two are still alive. Ah, I forgot how cunning Jefferson is…)

    The fake Bush/Paul tore at his hair with both hands...

The story shifts to the Washington DC suburbs, where a lonely policeman is nodding off at his station, daydreaming of winning the lottery and traveling to see the world. His daydreams are interrupted when a weak, disheveled figure lumbers into the doorway and stutters, "I... am… Pre-si-dent... Bush..." Squinting, the cop recognizes his face from "a promotional photo" that was posted in town a few years ago during the presidential election (because really, how else would a random American know what their president looks like?). Before losing consciousness, this Bush just manages to explain "The man pretending to be president is a mafia member named Paul."

The last act takes place at the US Supreme Court [미련방최고재판소], where "an unprecedented trial was taking place to determine who was the real President of the United States." The trial is presided over by a single "chief of court" [재판소장]. The chief is anxious not to screw this up, because he knows the whole country is watching, and "As a father with five daughters all past the age of marriage, he was concerned that a mistake at this trial could leave him humiliated and unemployed." If only Supreme Court justices could be dismissed so easily...

Two identical Bushes sit in the dock. In the witness stand are five people: First Lady Laura Bush, her twin daughters "Jenna and Bamara," Condoleezza Rice, and the suburban policeman who discovered the other Bush. 

The cop looks bewildered and terrified. Before the prosecutor can finish reading the indictment, he flees the courtroom, declaring: "I won’t say anything. I don’t know which of these bums– I mean, which of these men is the real president, and it doesn't matter to me. There is nothing to be gained for me here. America is the land of freedom, so I’m free to testify or not. Anyway, I feel dirty for getting involved in this messy game. Ahh- [spits]."

The trial proceeds, but the witnesses will only give vague and noncommittal answers. Meanwhile, the two Bushes keep shouting profanities, each insisting that he is "the real Bush." This is getting nowhere, so the chief justice changes strategies. He instructs each of the witnesses to try asking questions only the real Bush would know. 

Rice tries first:

   “Mr. President, where did we first meet?”

   “I don’t know,” answered the Bush on the right. “Wasn’t it a brothel?” followed the Bush on the left.     

   Laughter erupted from the audience.

   Rice, her face red, pursed her lips and sat down. Now the president's eldest daughter, Jenna, stood up confidently.

   “Father, what do your daughters love most?”

   “Alcohol and money,” the two Bushes answered simultaneously, as if they had planned it.

   “Then, what about Mom?” asked younger sister Bamara, not giving anyone a chance to react.

   “Men,” both Bushes again answered in unison. Loud laughter erupted in the hall.

Then a random person from the audience stands up, introduces himself as "Dr. Arthur of XXX Biological Research Institute" and  suggests that they "conduct genetic tests comparing the blood of two indictees with that of the president’s twin daughters, Miss Jenna and Miss Bamara. Then we will be able to find out who the real President Bush is."

The chief justice looks delighted at this idea; but Laura Bush turns pale. "As a woman who had many affairs in her youth, she was not even sure whose blood her twin daughters had inherited."

Luckily for her, at this point the Bush on the left interrupts: "Wait. There’s no need for that." He tells the astonished court, "Neither of us is President Bush. My name is Jefferson, and his name is Paul." The whole court listens in stunned silence to his tale.

   "You will all be wondering how the two of us have the same face as President Bush. But these are not our real faces. Paul had facial surgery a few months ago in order to kidnap the President and set him up in his place. And I got a muscular injection a few days ago to change my face.

   "The reason I sought to become President Bush, knowing of this plot, was to expose the identity of Paul, after he betrayed and brutally murdered his comrades. How ridiculous is it, that this mere pimp who owns a brothel in New York should pretend to be president? Of course, in the United States, there is no law that says a brothel owner cannot become president." In Jefferson's last words there was a note of sadness.

   The chief of court, finally regaining his senses, asked: “Then where is the real President Bush?”

   “Advisor Rice will know more about that. He was admitted to a charity hospital,” said Paul, who had been holding his peace until now.

   Rice gaped wide-eyed, seemingly forgetting the very tense atmosphere in the courtroom. After a moment, her clever mind began moving properly again, and she hastily apologized. “I really didn’t know. During the military attack on the mafia, one man was rescued; I guess that must have been President Bush. At that time, the president's face looked different, either damaged in the attack or altered by some drug. Also, a severe concussion had caused him to lose his memory and paralyzed his speech functions, making it impossible to identify him. But anyway, even if that man is the real president, I don't know where he is now. He ran away from the charity hospital. The doctors reported he did not appear in his right mind.”

With the president's whereabouts unknown, an emergency meeting of the National Security Council is convened in "a secret conference room at the White House" to decide on a transition. Rice begins, “I fully support Vice President Cheney taking over all powers of the President in accordance with the U.S. Constitution.” 

However, to everyone's bafflement, Cheney votes against himself. His initial thrill at the prospect of becoming president had given way to fear that he too could be kidnapped. Also, he has no desire to "take over the American government and economy that Bush had ruined."

The story ends with a plaintive scene:

   Right as this NSC meeting was taking place, a charity organization was providing free meals to the poor in the park before the main gate of the White House.

   Among the rows of unemployed and homeless, there was a man with the slack-jawed look of a mental patient. After an hour of waiting, the man finally took an empty bowl and approached the cook.

   Perhaps because his speech was paralyzed, the man just grinned appealingly at the cook who served the porridge. The server, observing his pitiful appearance, served him a second ladleful. This was quite special “consideration.” Thanks to the massive military spending recently approved by the president, even the watery soup distributed by charity organizations had to be greatly reduced.

   The man was so sad that he hung his head. The man had suffered amnesia, and until a few days ago he did not even know that he could have done something good for the unemployed and homeless people gathered here. This man was the real Bush. Bush, the President of the United States, who was abandoned by everyone in the world...

Mafia

The bad guys behind the abduction plot are repeatedly described as "mafia" [마피아조직], but this does not seem to refer to the American mafia. Rather, it is implied that their organization is based somewhere in the Middle East. Bizarrely, they are in league with the Carnegie Endowment [카네기기금], where Jefferson is a senior fellow. (The Carnegie Endowment was also randomly implicated in the secret plot in Raise Your Bayonets with the CIA and candidate Bob Dole, but there it was misspelled 카네디기금). 

In his dramatic courtroom confession, Jefferson reveals that the head of their organization, a man named "Kent," is Middle-Eastern, as is Paul. At first I suspected this was intended to depict some Israeli agency, possibly the Mossad. Antisemitic conspiracy theories sometimes find their way into North Korean novels.

But then Jefferson clarifies that Kent's real name is Muhammed al-Hid. Asked if their group has ties to Al Qaeda, Jefferson says he does not know, but "cannot rule out the possibility." Jefferson himself is unsure of the true objective of the kidnapping plot, but he theorizes that as a Middle Easterner, Kent would have wanted to reverse "the hard-line, high-pressure stance of President Bush and other politicians toward the Islamic world."

During Fake Bush/Paul's brief tenure, Rice becomes suspicious at one point when he unexpectedly vetoes some bills related to the Iraq War. As she gapes incredulously, the fake president explains: "Rice, I want to stop the military build-up against Iraq and launch a strong military attack against North Korea. If we overthrow North Korea, our great enemy, won't the countries that have disrespected us become more obedient?"

This is the only mention of North Korea in the story, and it raises more questions than answers about the intended message of this tale. Other KWU novels have consistently pushed the notion that the US wars in the Middle East were always intended as a sly way to justify military buildup and move troops and hardware into place for an ultimate end-goal of invading North Korea. This story, admittedly by a much lower-ranked author, suggests instead that Bush's invasion of Iraq actually diverted resources away from North Korea, and then it was up to these mysterious Middle-Easterners to steer the focus of US defense strategy back onto North Korea.

Condoleezza Rice herself is no dove, but she vehemently opposes this shift, thinking: "North Korea was different from Iraq. A misstep with North Korea would not just seal the president's fate, but could spell the end of the entire US. Were it not so, Rice herself, the advocate of the 'strong policy,' would not have approved those documents..."

Condoleezza Rice

Bush's National Security Advisor has many entertaining scenes. She seems to act as a power-behind-the-throne and sometimes baby-sitter to the infantile President Bush, "overflowing with pride in herself as the real power of that great nation called the United States and always ridiculing Bush’s low intellect." She is repeatedly described as a "nyŏgŏl" which is an old Korean term for a female warrior. 

Privately in their Oval Office meeting, the president compliments her, "People wonder why my special adviser is a woman, but in reality, Rice, you are a nyŏgŏl who handles 80% – no, all – of my presidential work."

When the false Bush makes some uncharacteristically clever repartee, his wife Laura teases, "Who knew that our President has such an extraordinary sense of humor? I thought you were this great statesman who couldn't say one proper word without Rice."

The text oddly identifies Rice as "혼혈" (mixed-race) rather than black. Physically she is depicted as having a military bearing and "thick, utterly unfeminine lips." When she comes straight from the attack on the Colorado compound, still in her special forces uniform, the false Bush compliments her: "Rice, military garb suits you." 

North Korea has no equivalent of a civilian national security official. They would perhaps thinks of this as equivalent to their Minister of State Security (보위부, the "secret police"), who is always a high-ranking military officer and always appears in uniform with a chest full of medals.

Former Minister of State Security Kim Won Hong, 
who was dismissed in Feb 2017 (src: KCNA/Reuters)

First Family 

North Korean media must have covered some of the more tabloid-esque stories of the Bush era; the story mentions Jenna Bush's underaged drinking scandal and the time President Bush passed out choking on a "beer cracker." But some things have apparently been lost in translation; for instance, Jenna's sister Barbara's name is repeatedly mis-rendered in Korean as "Bamara" [바마라]. 

Korean language runs into a problem when dealing with twins, because relative age matters in deciding which terms to use. There's no good word for just "sister" independent of age. Usually the one born first will be referred to as "elder sister" and "eldest daughter," etc. In this story, the author seems to have decided that Jenna was born first, but I'm not sure if that is accurate.

Laura Bush is for some reason depicted as a man-hungry bimbo. She preens when W. suggests she enter the Mexican beauty contest. At the trial, she panics at talk of using DNA samples, suspecting her twins might have had a different father. 

For various selfish reasons, the Bush women are not particularly motivated to identify the real Bush at trial. The twins just hope that "the generous man who had given them so much money at the presidential villa" will be their father from now on. Laura just hopes to avoid "criticism that she couldn't even recognize her husband." 

We have seen First Daughters depicted as spoiled princesses before. This seems to be part of the general directive to emasculate and humble the US president, by showing that even his own family has little respect for him beyond the money and glamour his position provides. The depiction of a First Lady as a woman of loose morals is a new one, at least to my knowledge. It is more likely to be a product of this particular author's sense of humor than any top-down directive.

Fate (#3): A small North Korean child averts diplomatic disaster with Fidel Castro

In honor of the North Korean diplomat whose defection from the Cuban embassy was recently reported in Chosun Ilbo, as well as Cuba's diplomatic recognition of South Korea this year, I thought I'd revisit some scenes from a novel that depicted a fictional North Korean ambassador to Cuba in the late 1960s.

Fidel Castro and Kim Il Sung both loved a
good photo op with children

The novel is Fate (2012) by perennial blog favorite Chŏng Ki Jong, previously excerpted here and here.

A major character in this novel is Jang Jŏng Hwan, a decorated veteran who fought against the Japanese as a partisan in Manchuria and later worked at Panmunjom as a senior KPA negotiator. At the novel's start, he is a high-ranking official in the People's Security Department (민족보위성), the equivalent of a police commissioner. He has a much younger brother-in-law working in the Ministry of Trade, a Soviet-educated technocrat who makes trouble by advocating integration with Comecon – but that is another story. 

Mid-way through the novel, Jang is blindsided when Kim Il Sung unexpectedly appoints him, an old soldier with no diplomatic experience, as the new ambassador to Cuba. "You shouldn't be surprised," Kim tells him. "Since the crisis in the Caribbean [i.e. the Cuban missile crisis], many embassies of other countries stationed in Cuba closed their doors and evacuated by boat or plane, but our Korean embassy alone remained in place. Not only that, but everyone grabbed their guns and prepared to fight alongside the Cubans in the decisive battle. You have no idea how much the Cubans appreciate us since then. Koreans are the true comrades-in-arms who fight shoulder-to-shoulder with Cuba. Also, [the current ambassador]'s health deteriorated suddenly, and he had to be called back. So I've decided to send you. Think about how pleased they will be when we send our seasoned veteran, one who went nose-to-nose with the Americans at Panmunjom, as ambassador. It will be a great encouragement to their struggle."

The DPRK Embassy in Havana

A few chapters later, we catch up with Jang working in his new office at the DPRK embassy on the Malecon in Havana, Cuba. The Great Leader has spared no expense to support their young ally, but it means a lot of extra work for the embassy. 

Bearing up under the unfamiliar muggy heat, Jang pores over paperwork for importing "dozens of cars, tractors and countless agricultural machines from the Motherland," as well as North Korean youth brigades coming over to improve Cuba's agricultural production. There's more talk of how North Korea alone remained as Cuba's faithful partner, while all the other cowardly socialist nations ran away at the first sign of trouble from the US.

From outside, Jang hears his five-year-old son Hyŏn Il chattering loudly in Spanish with someone in the front garden. Jang himself has not learned much Spanish yet, but young Hyŏn Il immediately soaked it up like a sponge at his Cuban kindergarten.

Hyŏn Il is riding his bicycle around the yard when a stranger enters the compound in Cuban uniform, introducing himself as “Fidel’s adjutant” to the skeptical boy. Hyŏn Il does not know exactly who Fidel is, but he remembers a bit of a song they sang in kindergarten: 

    I love morning, I love today
    I love tomorrow, I love Fidel

Still suspicious, Hyŏn Il asks, “But if you’re here, where’s Fidel?”

Fidel Castro with Che Guevara and
his daugher Aleida in 1963

In short order Fidel arrives and rescues his adjutant from this young interrogator. Hyŏn Il fetches his father, and Fidel and Jang shake hands warmly. But the official interpreter is not around, and neither understands the other's language. They attempt some bilingual banter anyway:

   “Ambassador, it's been a while. Are you getting used to the Cuban weather? How is your health?”

  “Ah, Comrade Prime Minister. Seeing you here so suddenly, there must be some urgent business...”
  “Ambassador, I said, are you getting used to the weather?”
   It was such a pity. 

   At that moment Hyŏn Il, who had been sitting astride his bicycle tilting his head back to watch them, spoke up.

   “Dad, say it's hot, but not too bad.”
   Jang looked surprised. What was the kid saying? But the next moment, he sighed in relief. “Oh right, you know how to do greetings, huh? Then, please give a nice greeting to Prime Minister Fidel for me, okay?”
   “Okay.” Hyŏn Il nodded, then turned to Fidel and stuttered, “My father has very good for Fidel, um… yummy food give you.”
   Greatly impressed by young Hyŏn Il’s bold and inventive Spanish, Fidel scooped him up in his arms.
   “How brave you are. What is your name?”
   “Jang Hyŏn Il. I’m the strongest one in our kindergarten.”
   “Really?”
   “Yes. I'm the shortest, but the best fighter.”
   “Hah! A general’s son for sure.”

Interpretation secured, they all go inside to chat some more. Fidel holds Hyŏn Il on his lap and the lad tugs playfully on his sideburns. The author is clearly having fun with the device of a diplomatic meeting interpreted by a five-year-old:

   “Ambassador, there’s something I’d like to ask you privately, and that is why I came without telling anyone.”
   Jang looked a question at young Hyŏn Il. Rolling his eyes, the boy thought for a moment and interpreted: “Came alone! Secret!”
   “Oh, is that so?”

   Then Jang realized what he must do. “Comrade Prime Minister, wait a moment!” He pulled out the phone and dialed a number. “Jang Jŏng Hwan here. Where is the cultural attaché? Find him right away and send him to my office. Then contact Comrade Raul Castro and let him know that Prime Minister Fidel is here.” Fidel had come without informing anyone, but when the head of state visited the embassy, Jang Jŏng Hwan could not just let it pass without informing the host country.

   Fidel asked young Hyŏn Il what his father was saying. Hyŏn Il interpreted, “He say tell Comrade Castro, Fidel is here.”

   Fidel, who had been in the middle of lighting a thick reddish Havana cigar, suddenly threw his head back and burst into laughter.

   “Wait, how can Castro and Fidel be different people? Isn’t that just one person?”

   Hyŏn Il was getting frustrated but held firm. “No, there is Raul and then there is Fidel…”

   “Aha– That’s right. You speak the truth.”

Meanwhile, the embassy staff were busying themselves preparing a meal for the unexpected guest. Five minutes later, the cultural attache/interpreter arrives, along with a female embassy staff member carrying tea and coffee. Hyŏn Il slips away.

After the official interpreter arrives, Fidel gets down to business. He tells Jang that he has come in hopes of "getting to know Korea better," and in particular he wishes to view some of Korean propaganda films, whose quality he has heard much about. 

They set up an impromptu film screening in the embassy garden, where the staff have set out a variety of Korean foods. Fidel watches enthralled, sucking on a cigar, never taking his eyes off the screen. The movies continue until 3am. Fidel has high praise for the North Korean cinematic arts: "I’d always wondered when I would finally be able to meet Comrade Kim Il-sung, but today I have met him through these documentary films."

When they finally get up to leave, Fidel looks around confused, wondering where "Heniel" has gone. Figuring out what he means, Jang tells him the boy has long since gone to bed. Fidel laughs and asks them to give his regards to "dear Heniel" when he awakes. 

Fidel and KIS finally met in 1986

Before leaving, Fidel pulls Jang and the interpreter aside for a private word. This is the scene where he shares the secret of Che Guevara's whereabouts. He also passes along a personal letter Che left behind, saying: "Comrade Kim Il Sung is the person Che respects the most. I think it is right to show him this letter. If Che were here, he would probably agree wholeheartedly.”

Hyŏn Il makes no further appearances in the novel, but Fidel remembers "Heniel" fondly and keeps asking Jang to bring him out as an interpreter.

Links

Though the significance of their contribution is greatly exaggerated in this novel, North Korea did send  a 100-man work brigade to Cuba in 1970 to help with agricultural labor. This article explains how the "Jinetes de Chullima" or "Chollima riders," as they were called, were part of a program of economic and cultural outreach toward Cuba that North Korea pursued in the 1960s. In the novel, rather than just agricultural workers, North Korea sends an elite team of engineers to help build a heavy machine industry in Cuba.