The state is a powerful machine

The Accusation: Forbidden Stories from Inside North Korea by Bandi, translated by Deborah Smith (Grove Press, $16).

Bandi, which means “firefly” in Korean, is the pseudonym of a North Korean author, and these stories were smuggled out of that police state in 2013. The origin story of this collection alone would make compelling reading; however, The Accusation is an insider’s look at that opaque society.

Bandi’s characters, from soybean farmer to bureaucrat, are all normal people trapped in an abnormal world, one where a child who cries at the wrong time, failure to place flowers at a memorial for Kim Il Sung, or a failed crop are all enough to bring the apparatus of the state crashing down on one’s head. These political “crimes” may be punishable by anything from a sentence at hard labor to death.

The real gift for Western readers of these stories is the way that Bandi illuminates that singular moment when the characters realize that it doesn’t matter whether they are guilty or innocent. The state will destroy them anyway.

Bandi has not been heard from since 2015; it’s possible–nay, likely–that the state has claimed him as well.

I very much enjoyed this book although it was a difficult read. I discussed it in my May reading wrap-up on my YouTube channel.

<p>There's a story in <A href="https://www.librarything.com/work/18531722/book/150324785">The Accusation</a> about faking emotion: crying when we're happy, laughing when we're sad. Under such a system as North Korea, all emotions are either muted or exaggerated. In the same vein, and for the same reasons, the writing style of <A href="https://www.librarything.com/work/18531722/book/150324785">The Accusation</a>
also veers between muted or exaggerated melodrama, but what else can one expect from a society that represses or fakes emotion? I didn't come into these stories expecting literature as much as a window into North Korean life. <A href="https://www.librarything.com/work/18531722/book/150324785">The Accusation</a> is important not because of its literary merits, but because it exists as an act of rebellion against the horror of the North Korean regime. It's crazy that North Korea exists, and <A href="https://www.librarything.com/work/18531722/book/150324785">The Accusation</a> exists to show us that. </p>

<p><A href="https://www.librarything.com/work/18531722/book/150324785">The Accusation</a> by Bandi went on sale March 7, 2017.</p>

<p><small>I received a copy free from <a href="https://www.netgalley.com/">Netgalley</a> in exchange for an honest review.</small></p>

North Korea, a closed society, books and news have been filtering out in the last several years. In these seven stories, based on experiences and thoughts of the people as told to the author, we learn some of the harsh realities of living under this type of dictatorship, cut off from the rest of the world. They are as enlightening and harsh as one could imagine. The way the book made it out of North Korea, or that it even did, is amazing as is the way these stories are told. This information and more, some of the author's background is chronicled in the afterword.

All of these stories serve to highlight the huge disconnect between outward emotion, thoughts, actions and internal feelings. Of being constantly watched for loyalty and love to the great leader, any independent action suspect, even those with valid reasons. Family reputation everything, of not being looked on favorably if a family member had done something, no matter how small, considered against the regime, never being able to rise above this status, for any family member, not ever. Of praising the regime for its generosity while not having enough to eat, fuel to stay warm nor even to gain permission to stay home with a sick child, visit a dying mother. Banishment to the far outreaches, internment in a work camp and even death the penalties. Horrifically unbelievable, yet it happens again and again, happens still and not just in North Korea.

ARC from Netgalley.

Hidden behind the curtain...

This is a collection of seven short stories written between 1989 and 1995 under the regimes of Kim Il-sung and Kim Jong-il in North Korea. The author's identity remains secret, since he still lives in the country - his pseudonym means “firefly”. He is, or perhaps was, part of the official writers' association, writing articles approved by the regime, but in his own time he began secretly to write these stories, showing a different version of daily life under this extreme form of totalitarianism. When his niece decided to defect to the West, he asked her to take the stories with her, but she wisely said she would instead send for them once she reached safety. She later enlisted the help of a human rights worker to have them smuggled out of the country.

The stories are strongly polemical, as would be expected under the circumstances, and highly critical of the dehumanisation under the regime, where every aspect of people's lives and even thoughts are dictated and controlled through fear, and truth is manipulated in true Orwellian fashion.

The quality of the stories is distinctly variable, with some of them being too polemical to make for good fiction. They are often worthy but obvious, occasionally over-wrought, and not always very well-written. However, some of them, especially the middle ones, reach a higher level, full of power and emotion. But the interest of this collection is not so much the literary side of it, but the glimpse it gives us of what it's like to live under this regime which seems, if anything, to be getting even more extreme with each passing year.

Here's a flavour of a couple of the ones that most impressed me:

Life of a Swift Steed – this tells the story of a man who believed in the revolution in its early days, and to celebrate the beginnings of this new world, planted an elm tree, around which he gradually created a fable that he passed on to the children in his area. As the tree grew to maturity, he believed, so would the socialist state. Everyone would eat meat and white rice, and wear silk. He clung to the fable even when reality turned out to be vastly different. But now he's old and poor, the weather is freezing and there is no fuel. And the state wants to chop down the tree to make way for power lines. This one is very well written, and makes its point through emotion rather than overt polemics – I found it a moving read, reminding us that these regimes arise out of hopes and dreams, making their subsequent distortion into totalitarianism even more tragic.

So Near, Yet So Far – a man has received news that his mother is dying, but the state will not give him the travel permit he needs to visit her for one last time. Having spent his life obeying every dictate of the regime – doing his military service, then being told where he should live, what he should work at, etc. - he is finally provoked into breaking the rules, and tries to make the journey illicitly. As the rather trite title suggests, he gets heartbreakingly close to his mother's village when he is caught. The punishment is harsh, but it's the guilt and shame that cause him most pain. The feeling of utter helplessness of the individual caught up in an uncaring and faceless system is very well done, and again makes this story a deeply emotional and powerful one.

So there's plenty here to make the book worth reading for its content as well as its origins. Like many collections, I found reading the stories one after the other meant that they gradually began to acquire a sameness which made the later ones lose power. Had I not been reading for review, I would have left longer gaps between reading each one, to avoid this effect. But they provide a unique insight into this regime from a personal level – so often we are only aware of the high level politics, and it's easy to forget how each decision we make in dealing with dictators, in terms of sanctions or military action, impacts profoundly on those much further down the social order. An interesting little collection, the importance of which transcends the stories themselves.

NB This book was provided for review by the publisher, Grove Atlantic.

As readers of this blog will know, I’m a huge fan of translated literature, especially when it gives me an insight into a new country or culture. It’s always exciting when I’m able to read my first book from a new place; highlights so far have included Scholastique Mukasonga’s Cockroaches from Rwanda, Paulina Chiziane’s ‘The First Wife‘ from Mozambique and the Haitian ‘Dance on the Volcano‘ by Marie Vieux-Chauvet. Reliant on translation as I am, I feel extremely privileged at having access to such books.

I never would have imagined being able to add a dissident North Korean voice to my round-the-world reading. North Korea is, after all, a famously secretive country, closely controlling both what happens within its borders and also what can be made public to the enemies outside. Kim Seong-dong’s Afterword to ‘The Accusation’ includes details of how the manuscript was smuggled out of North Korea and some information about Bandi (not the author’s real name). It is a harsh reminder of the freedoms we in the West are lucky enough to take for granted. When Kim Soeng-dong describes the manuscript in telling detail ‘the indentations made by the pressure of the writer’s pencil are plainly visible, while the faded paper indicates the long gestation of the work‘ before reminding us that ‘these were works that could not be written without risking one’s life,‘ the indictments and bravery of these stories become even more forceful.

Bandi’s characters are ordinary men and women trying to live ordinary lives. Their ambitions range from wishing to succeed at work, wishing to visit family members, wishing to join the Communist party to wishing relations would succeed better at fitting in with society’s expectations. Because the setting is North Korea though, such aspirations are thwarted swiftly and crushingly. The woman who draws her curtains at the wrong time of day, the man who wishes to travel to see his dying mother – motivation, intention, final results are all irrelevant when they come up against the relentless repressive regime.

The stories themselves are vehicles for the passionate accusation against an unjust government. Each follows a similar structure of conformity to the unspoken rules followed by a realisation of their inhumanity. The symbolism is equally direct, as pet birds are caged, beloved trees are cut down and poisonous mushrooms appear red on the ground. The book has been translated by Deborah Smith, who (with Han Kang) won the Man Booker International Prize in 2016 for ‘The Vegetarian.’ Smith also translated Kang’s brutal ‘Human Acts‘; here she shows her versatility with the, very different, direct tone of ‘The Accusation.’

The risks taken to write, save and finally bring these stories to publication have been immense. I feel the only response from those of us fortunate enough to be able to work, travel and write freely, must be to read and discuss them. It is a reminder of the important work done by organisations such as PEN (who selected this book for one of their awards, designed to encourage UK publishers to acquire more books from other languages). There is no way of knowing what is happening to Bandi since the publication of this collection. His identity has been scrupulously protected by the few South Koreans who can connect him to the book, but the stories themselves show the power and reach of the North Korean authorities. Through his writing however, Bandi has succeeded in standing witness to his society, and I hope that his stories will spread his ideas to readers from worlds so cruelly barred to him.

<i>I beg you to read my words. </i> - Bandi

This is an important book, one that needs to be read and it was a highly enlightening book for me. Bandi is the pseudonym of a writer living in North Korea and this collection of short stories was smuggled out of the country and has been published in South Korea. As such it is unusual - normally the stories we can read about North Korea are written by people who have fled the country - and not by somebody who is still very much a part of it. While reading it, I first thought that the stories reminded me of dystopian books I have read - and that scared me because Bandi's stories while fictional still are <i>true</i>, they show the authentic lives that people are living, every day - but more than that they remind me of the literature written in and about Nazi Germany. The regime in North Korea is scary in scope and Bandi really succeeds in showing what that does to the people living in it.

But even beyond the political importance of this book, the stories are very well written. Short stories are difficult to pull off, but these worked brilliantly for me. The characters felt honest and real and flawed and just believable - even if their situation in life is hard to grasp for me. While the stories follow similar themes - the difficulty of living in a dictatorship, the realization that the world the protagonists inhabit is unreal, and the danger that comes with having the 'wrong' thoughts - they all still work on their own as well. At the core of this work is not the political message but the human relationships depicted. Bandi shows that even in times of hardship, relationships are what makes people people. I loved the different types of relationships depicted and I loved how this is what I ultimately can take from this. Even though the collection is relentlessly bleak there is this kernel of optimism: this idea that individual people are better than the country they live in and that human connection cannot be regulated.

___
I received an arc of this book curtesy of NetGalley and Grove Atlantic in exchange for an honest review. Thanks for that!

The afterword of this collection explains that these stories which ridicule and satirize the North Korean regime have been smuggled out of the country by a friend of a man who still lives in North Korea. The stories were written between 1989 and 1995. Bandi risked his life and those of his family smuggling out these snippets of life under the Kim Il-sung and Kim Jong-il dictatorships. These stories are a powerful representation of the hardships faced by these citizens of this violent and dark regime. Here are some of my favourites;

Record of a Defection
Generations of a family condemned to be enemies of the Party because a father spills a crate of rice seedlings and is exiled by the State. How a husband and wife deal with their status and its impact on their lives. Powerful.

City of Specters
A feverish boy, frightened by the monstrous posters of Karl Marx and Kim Il-sung which he sees in the square outside his parent’s apartment causes the banishment of his family from their home in Pyongyang.

Life of a Swift Steed
A heartbreaking story of dedication and deprivation, of misguided loyalties and a people desperate to survive in impossible conditions. This was a beautiful and tragic read.

Pandemonium
Trapped in a train station thanks to another Class 1 event with Kim Jong-il passing near the station, grandparents deal with their injuries and the broken leg of their granddaughter thanks to the crush of citizens stranded on this journey. To pass the time they entertain their granddaughter with stories. The one of the devil forcing his slaves to laugh behind walls too high to see over is the most telling and moving.

The Red Mushroom
Bandi saves the best for last in a final tale of a dedicated worker who tries to better his community and those he works with in the bean paste factory. When monsoon rains devastate the land cleared for production someone must be blamed for the crop failure. A man who has sacrificed his whole life for the good of the party becomes that scapegoat. The symbolism of the party office building painted red and the poisonous mushroom are not lost on the reader.

I don’t remember when a foreword or postscript have packed more information to help the reader understand what the people living in North Korea have had to endure. Instead of acknowledgements a poem by Bandi is included.

Fifty years in this northern land
Living as a machine that speaks
Living as a human under a yoke
Without talent
With a pure indignation
Written not with pen and ink
But with bones drenched with blood and tears
Is this writing of mine

Though they be dry as a desert and rough as a grassland
Shabby as an invalid
And primitive as stone tools
Reader!
I beg you to read my words.

-Bandi

eARC received with thanks from Grove Press via NetGalley for review.

"Where in the world might you find such a garden, such a den of evil magic, where cries of pain and sadness where wrenched from the mouths of its people and distorted into laughter?"

'The Accusation' is a collection of stories smuggled out of North Korea, the most repressive nation in the world, and published under the pseudonym of Bandi. Bandi shares with us a very diverse collection of voices; we get stories from husbands and wives, daughters and sons, families and friends, and each exposes a lot about the cultural landscape of North Korea.

The stories are as follows:
‣ Record of a Defection - a husband finds contraceptives his wife hides but fails to grasp the reality behind the situation
‣ City of Specters - a woman attempts to comfort her sick child, with dire consequences
‣ Life of a Swift Steed - the war hero who is ‘deeply disillusioned’ and questions his life achievements
‣ So Near, Yet So Far - a son tries to get permit to see his dying mother but having been denied multiple times, resorts to desperate means
‣ Pandemonium - an elderly grandmother stumbles into the Supreme Leader’s spotlight
‣ On Stage - father and son struggle to understand each other’s ideas of freedom and liberty
‣ The Red Mushroom - a man torn away from his family does everything he can to protect them from afar

While reading though these stories, I had to remark at the similarities between the North Korean regime today and the Communist regime under which Eastern European countries fell post-WWII. The comparisons are not shocking, but the absolute hopelessness in North Korean citizens is a stark contrast to the accounts I read from people who lived under Communism in Eastern Europe. Though Eastern European accounts still showed an understanding of what true democracy is, North Koreans seem to have withdrawn their dreams of liberty. Given that they’ve lived like this for generations, I can understand why freedom is a faraway dream at this point.

The idea that the author has to hide away these stories devastates me but for all the struggles this manuscript faced to see the light of day, I am glad to have been able to read Bandi’s stories from across the world. I knew this book was going to be historically important, but I was very pleased to discover that it holds a lot of literary merit as well. Bandi has a fantastic ability to pen stories that make you care even when you know it’s hopeless to do so. None of the stories felt repetitive or read dully; each offers a uniquely chilling example of shattered humanity. This collection is poignant, well-written, and utterly heartbreaking.

'The Accusation' was by far one of the best books I’ve had the pleasure of reading this year, and possibly one of the most remarkable books I might read in my lifetime.

4.5 Stars. The Accusation is a collection of seven short stories about life in North Korea. The manuscript was smuggled out of the country. It's the first time a book critical of the North Korean government written by someone who still lives in North Korea has been published.

Bandi, Korean for firefly, is the pseudonym the author uses; he states that he's "fated to shine only in a world of darkness." The translation is by Deborah Smith, translator for Han Kang's Human Acts and The Vegetarian. Bandi wrote the stories between 1989 and 1995. They take place during the rule of Kim Il-sung, grandfather of North Korea's current leader Kim Jong-un. The stories are fictional but based on real-life accounts. Every story is great! They had all of the features I appreciate most: completeness, rich symbolism, thoughtful characters with strong family relationships, and haunting endings. It was even more impressive that these stories were written in such a closed environment. I was reminded of all the dystopian fiction I've read and it's jarring to think that it's unlikely Bandi ever experienced any of that work--though he is living it firsthand.

There's a classic quality to the stories, perhaps due to the lack of technology or the author's restricted sphere of inspiration. The presentation of the stories is reminiscent of Kazuo Ishiguro's work, because Bandi tends to introduce an event and fill in the gaps later. Many of the relevant details are revealed through an intimate conversation ("Life of a Swift Steed," "So Near Yet So Far") or via a document ("Record of Defection"). It features both the privileged and those who are marked by an ancestor's "crimes" against the state. Status is never guaranteed and a perceived misstep can alter the course of a life. There's a constant fear that the actions of a relative will become a lifelong burden. Fear and obedience are necessary tools for survival. All negative emotions must be suppressed. Anyone could be watching, waiting to find someone committing even the most minor offense. In each of these stories, characters find themselves in an absurd situation that makes them see the contradictions of their homeland. Sometimes realizing the disconnect between long-held beliefs and the reality of their situation has tragic consequences.

The first five stories were my favorites, but each story has staying power:

Record of a Defection - A man discovers that his wife has been taking birth control in secret. Her other strange behavior makes him assume the worst, but there's another explanation. The sacrifices we make for those we love and the cruelty of multi-generational punishments.

City of Specters - A two-year-old boy cries every time he sees the giant portrait of Karl Marx across from his apartment, causing huge problems for his parents. This story shows the extreme paranoia of the state and the power of fear.

Life of a Swift Steed - Decorated war veteran Seol Young-su refuses to let the military police cut a branch off of his treasured elm tree. When Jeon Yeong-il is questioned by the military police's chief on the matter, he his mystified by his "uncle's" insubordination. This story is about a man "torn apart by contradictions" when he realizes his entire life has been dedicated to a lie. He experiences the rage, sorrow, and shame of an illusion being shattered.

So Near, Yet So Far - Yeong-sam risks his life to visit his dying mother after the government refuses to issue him a travel permit to his home village. Rigid obsession with regulations and how even the smallest symbols can evoke fear.

Pandemonium - A woman accidentally becomes part of a propaganda video. The government's report of "happy laughter" is a stark contrast to the chaos that occurred near the filming location. I loved the use of fairy tales in this one.

On Stage - The country is still grieving three months after the death of Kim Il-sung. Outlandish displays of emotion are expected at the hundreds of altars scattered around the city. Comrade Inspector Yeong-pyo's son is in trouble for a second time, this time for being disrespectful during a time of mourning. In a dramatic confrontation, his son compares living in North Korea to a lifetime at drama school. Everyone is forced to live a lie and put on a false front in order to survive. This story also shows why authoritarian regimes are so quick to ban art and quash dissent. Once an idea is planted, it's impossible to eradicate.

The Red Mushroom - A man implores a journalist to help clear his uncle's name. A good man who sacrificed his entire life in service to the state has become a scapegoat. In this story, we see how bizarre accusations can be and the futility of fighting the party officials. It was my least favorite, but I still really liked it. (It's me, not the author! I have a negative Pavlovian response to farming stories thanks to Anna Karenina.)

"Afterword: How The Accusation Came Out of North Korea" and "A Note from Do Hee-Yun" give background on the author and reveal how the manuscript was snuck out of North Korea. Some of the biographical details were changed to protect Bandi's identity. The supplementary material is fascinating! I'm tempted to round up to five stars because I'm so blown away by the story behind the book! Bandi's stories gave me a more well-rounded view of what it's like to live day-to-day in North Korea, replacing the caricature that previously existed in my mind. Many of the stories end with a quiet resignation, but the "lightbulb" moments for the characters and the fact this book exists at all gave me hope. A government can restrict people from the outside world, scare them into submission, and suppress dissent, but they can't crush all imagination and independent thought.


Further reading:
Do North and South Korea speak the same language? Yes, but not quite by Deborah Smith - A glimpse into Smith's translation process. It's interesting that the original manuscript includes 200 words that the average South Korean would be unfamiliar with.
Goodreads review by Gustavo  - Interesting analysis of The Accusation's authenticity.

Translated from the Korean by last year’s Man Booker International Prize winner Deborah Smith ‘The Accusation’ by Bandi is a collection of seven short stories by a pseudonymous author who reportedly still lives in North Korea and works as an official writer for the government. Written in the early 1990s at a time when the country was gripped by famine, it is said that Bandi’s stories were eventually smuggled into South Korea by a relative who hid sheets of paper in a copy of ‘The Selected Works of Kim Il-sung’. While there have been many accounts of life in North Korea published by defectors, a work of fiction by an author still living in one of the most secretive countries in the world is exceptionally rare.

A recurring theme throughout the collection is paranoia and the stories explore what happens to someone who displeases the Party, more often than not inadvertently in a seemingly minor way, and the long-term consequences it has for their entire family for generations, most notably in ‘Record of a Defection’. Another memorable tale is ‘The City of Specters’ about a mother whose young son is terrified of the large portraits of Karl Marx and Kim Il-sung outside their apartment window, believing them to be monsters from Korean myths. She draws the curtains to block them from view but the authorities quickly notice the change which puts all of them in danger. In ‘The Red Mushroom’, a bean paste factory is said to be in full production by Party officials yet the reality is that there are no beans and the factory manager therefore inevitably “fails”.

The unconventional narrative style with relatively little focus on characterisation suggests that the author doesn’t have literary reference points aside from what is likely to be available in North Korea. However, like other examples of dissident literature, there is some satire shrouded in metaphor such as ‘Life of a Swift Seed’ about a Communist war hero who plants an elm tree to commemorate a fellow soldier but the tree is later set to be cut down to make way for a new power line leaving him disillusioned. At the same time, although it’s difficult to fully assess the degree of realism or authenticity in these stories, there is also much more outright criticism than I was expecting, especially considering the enormous risks Bandi has taken in putting these stories down on paper.

The mysterious circumstances of Bandi’s life are undoubtedly fascinating, but I also hope this doesn’t overshadow the stories themselves. As well as novels, short story collections are eligible for the Man Booker International Prize and this remarkable book may well appear on the longlist next month. ‘The Accusation’ will be published in the UK on 2nd March. Many thanks to Grove Atlantic for sending me a review copy via NetGalley.

The Accusation: Forbidden Stories from Inside North Korea by Bandi is a collection of short stories that take place in North Korea around the transition of Kim Il-sung and Kim Jong-il. Bandi, a pseudonym, is more of a mysterious person. He lived in North Korea and presumably still does. His writings have been smuggled out of North Korea and have been published in South Korea and France. Bandi is Korean for firefly and is shedding his little bit of light in a dark country.

Anyone who is trying to stay current on North Korea has read the recent nonfiction and quickly comes to realize how little is actually known about the country. After a few books, the reader will see the same stories repeat over again. Most of what is written about North Korea comes from defectors and their stories have been well used. Jang Jin-sung, poet laureate, and South Korea propaganda expert was the only high-level government official to defect until very recently. He offered more of an understanding of the whys of the regime rather than just the whats.

Bandi offers a selection of short stories that leave the reader wondering. The stories are fiction but fit so well with the actual conditions of the country. It is a bit like a dystopian episode of the Twilight Zone. You know it’s fiction but it feels so real. The feeling of being trapped in a nightmare is very real. From the sins of the father being carried to the next generation to the fear that something a child might do will damage your family’s position. Interestingly, there is very little about the outside enemy in this collection. There is no mention of the United States’ determination to end the worker’s paradise and there is only passing mention of the South’s propaganda being blasted over the border to the north. Everything happens inside North Korea as it works to make itself an island separate from the rest of the world.

Inside people spend their lives trying to stay within the ever shrinking lines. Loyalty is the most important thing. One man’s son cracks to his father, “You took a cup of sorrow and cried a pitcher of tears” concerning the death of Kim Il-Sung. Another character talks of a magical garden where cries of pain and suffering are distorted into laughter. School children watch the trial and execution of a man tied to a peach tree. The rope that was used to tie the man had more of an impact than the execution. The rope bound a person into helplessness. Perhaps there are things worse than death.

One cannot but feel the entrapment and hopelessness of many of the people. Some follow not to get noticed. Some follow out of fear. Some dare hope to escape. The majority know they are stuck and try to ignore their surroundings and live in an illusion of a positive attitude. The stories are fiction, but the feelings and emotions in them seem very real. One wonders if the stories are fiction in only that names and places have been changed. Haunting fiction because the reader knows it can very well be true.

Political tensions are running high. Refugees and immigrants find themselves in danger. I wonder if that is why everything I'm reading is politically charged - if the current mood of the country is effecting how I interpret what I'm reading. SO far this year, I've read three really moving and powerful stories of immigrants/refugees. The Accusation would be political pretty much anytime it was published as it's the first thing to come out of red North Korea. These seven stories really, really blew me away. I know next to nothing about North Korea and most of what I read in this collection intrigued and horrified me. A lot of the stories are about loss of the party's favor - if your ancestor fell out of favor, the repercussions last for generations and generations. Some of the stories: a young mother whose young child misbehaves at a political rally. A grandmother who leaves her husband and granddaughter at a train station during a Class One lockdown (I think those were called whenever Kim Il-sung or Kim-Jong-il were traveling nearby). A prominent member of the party who has a revolutionary son. Every story opened my eyes a little bit more to what life must be like in a communist state. Bandi is a pseudonym, the author's identity is unknown. 5 stars.