Few Koreans are unaware of Pak Kyongni’s monumental epic novel “Toji,” or “Land.” It is an undisputed masterpiece that brilliantly depicts how the swift tide of sociopolitical disruptions can sweep everything away, and how tumultuous times affect the lives of ordinary people. In that respect, Pak Kyongni’s “Land” resonates with Margaret Mitchell’s “Gone with the Wind.”

Written over 25 years, between 1969 and 1994, Pak’s “roman fleuve,” which consists of five parts and 16 volumes, portrays the collapse of the wealthy Choi family amid the whirlwind of major historical events in Korea. The sociopolitical turmoil that crumbles the Choi family includes the Donghak Revolution, the Sino-Japanese War, and the Gabo Reformation that abolished the feudal caste system, putting an end to the premodern period.

Although the novel unfolds over five generations of the Choi family, “Land” is not only a family saga, but also a document of Korea’s tumultuous transition from the latter days of the Joseon Dynasty to the Japanese occupation period. Through the downgrade of the Choi family, the novel meticulously delineates the deterioration of traditional values, the loss of farmland, and the decline of the Confucian moral system in early modern Korea.

The novel’s culminating story centers on Choi Seo-hui, the last descendant of the Choi family, who poignantly symbolizes Korea’s coming into the modern era. When her family collapses and her country becomes annexed to Japan amidst the turbulent historical upheavals, Choi Seo-hui leaves her homeland and self-exiles to Gando, Manchuria. Later, however, she returns to Korea as a successful, rich woman to see the independence of her country and rebuild her family in her liberated homeland. Through her triumphant homecoming, we can read the fall and rise of the Choi family as a close parallel to the downfall and resurgence of Korea in the early and mid-20th century.

In this novel, therefore, “land” has two meanings: One is Choi Seo-hui’s lost farmland, and the other is her lost homeland. Initially, she lost both, but through her unvanquished spirit and her rise to the challenge, she regains what she has lost. In that sense, Choi Seo-hui is an emblem of Korea.

Even today, Pak Kyongni’s “Land” strongly appeals to Koreans because the country is still experiencing national and international turmoil that might cost it the precious things symbolized in the novel by the title word, “land.” Surrounded by hostile countries, Korea has never been completely free from the anxiety of losing its land to its adversaries. However, if we do not lose our soul and keep up our spirit to continue the fight for our vested, inherited rights, we will not lose our land again.

Recently, “Land” was put on the stage of the National Theater of Korea as a choreodrama. Scholars and critics unanimously praised it as a superb artistic transformation of the epic novel into a dancing drama that captured the agonies of the characters and beautifully rendered the novel’s core theme. The audience, too, thunderously applauded the beautiful choreography and music. They also say that it was especially moving that celebrated Vietnamese choreographers organized the opening scene, given that the two countries went through a similar history of political turmoil.

To commemorate the great writer Pak Kyongni, the Toji Cultural Foundation has sponsored the prestigious annual Pak Kyongni Prize for celebrated international writers since 2011. The awardees include such luminaries as Marilynne Robinson and Richard Ford from the US, A. S. Byatt from the UK, Bernhard Schlink from Germany, Sylvie Germain from France, Amos Oz from Israel, Ngugi wa Thiong’o from Kenya and Amitav Ghosh from India. All of them share the same profound sense of history as Pak Kyongni: our quest for precious things lost amid historical turmoil, our unvanquished spirit to retrieve them, and the belief that we will prevail despite our ordeals.

Reminiscing over her great literary achievements, we should pledge not to lose our “land” again in the whirlpool of the ongoing international tsunami. Some experts have warned that today’s Korea strikingly resembles the Joseon Dynasty of the late 19th century in many respects. If so, we should be alert not to repeat the same mistakes that our ancestors made. Otherwise, we may lose our land again and be exiled, hopelessly drifting in the uncharted seas amid a perfect storm.

“Land” reminds us of William Faulkner’s Nobel Prize acceptance speech.

“I believe that man will not merely endure: He will prevail," he said. "He is immortal, not because he alone among creatures has an inexhaustible voice, but because he has a soul, a spirit capable of compassion and sacrifice and endurance. The poet’s, the writer’s, duty is to write about these things.”

Like Scarlet O’Hara in “Gone with the Wind,” Choi Seo-hui in “Land,” too, is a tough, memorable woman who possesses “a spirit capable of compassion, and sacrifice and endurance.”

By writing “Land,” Pak Kyongni accomplished what Faulkner had envisioned.

Kim Seong-kon

Kim Seong-kon is a professor emeritus of English at Seoul National University and a visiting scholar at Dartmouth College. The views expressed here are the writer's own. -- Ed.


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