Yom Sang-seop - Three Generations

“I’ll clean up. Go and sit in the main room.” The mother was reluctant to let her grown daughter clean a bachelor’s room. Though Byeong-hwa was like a member of the family, Pil-sun’s mother always felt uncomfortable and on the alert.

“It’s all right. I’ll clean it.” Pil-sun picked up a broom and entered the room ahead of her mother. The room’s male odor, its scent of stale sweat, assaulted her.

“Look at this mess!” she muttered to herself as she started sweeping. It wasn’t that she suddenly felt an urge to clean Byeong-hwa’s room — what she wanted was to rummage through the desk drawers.

After her mother left, Pil-sun dropped the broom and made a beeline for the desk. What she had spotted a minute ago was the first letter Byeong-hwa had received from Deok-gi after his arrival in Kyoto. Had there been others since?

Listening for telltale sounds as if she were a thief, afraid that Byeong-hwa might come home any minute, Pil-sun opened the desk drawers one by one. Though there weren’t many letters in the drawers, she zeroed in on one in particular, in a Western-style envelope, torn in half atop some stray paper.

Why didn’t he rip it up into smaller pieces? she wondered.

Her eyes slowly took in its shape, and her hand plucked it out furtively.

Pil-sun didn’t stop to think whether she should read it. She simply had to know whom Deok-gi meant when he said “got to see Miss” and “really wants to study.”

Why do you always have a chip on your shoulder? Can’t you say anything that isn’t cynical or angry? And about Miss Pil-sun, there’s really no need for you to be so harsh, is there?

Pil-sun’s eyes burned and she blushed down to the nape of her neck. She swallowed, feeling her throat tighten, and read on.

You actually desire a struggle — rather, your narrow-minded views, which have become rigidly fixed by force of habit, have imprisoned your body. I find it pathetic. There is a reason you’ve become so cynical, like a boy who grew up under the thumb of a stepmother, and I do sympathize. But I can’t believe that you can become a great man and distinguish yourself when you hold such inflexible, narrow-minded views. That said, do you think it is right to deal with me, considering your so-called commitment to class struggle? You say that you’re looking for a friendship between comrades — true comradeship, rather than an ordinary, social friendship. It’s not that you’re wrong to think the way you do — it’s just that you can’t tell the difference between public and private yearnings because you’re adhering to a principle far too literally, don’t you think? Such thinking has pushed you to rebel against your family and cut ties with your father, but if you were a married man and your wife supported you only to the extent of tacitly accepting your work, would you divorce her because she’s not your comrade? Assuming that no greater happiness exists than brotherhood in society, you still need to pay attention to your private life, your day-to-day life. Struggle isn’t the answer to everything. Generosity and persuasiveness have as much effect as stray bullets. If struggle is for the front line and the troops, then generosity and persuasiveness are the means reserved for prisoners of war. These two traits are as effective as struggle. You may think that you and your father are engaged in a prolonged battle, but in my opinion, you’re the one who has beat a hasty retreat because of pettiness and your frustration at not being able to get your elder to budge. It is a great defeat. If your father heard me say this, he would be shocked, but don’t you have the courage to meet him halfway in his fortress of religion — generously and persuasively? Likewise, if you seek my comradeship, you need to go beyond the thin motions of struggle. I’m not whimpering like a coward. What I’m trying to say is that you need to do something about your attitude. It wouldn’t hurt to keep someone like me around. I’m not begging to be your friend. What I mean is that although my own path is different from yours, there will be times when I may be able to assist you and your friends. Laugh at me if you want. You may ask why I don’t take the next step and join your cause, but I have my own opinions, and there is an unavoidable path for someone like me, so you mustn’t think that I’m a coward. This letter may sound like a sermon, but it really isn’t. I would like to hear your opinion, so.

Pil-sun tried to take in this avalanche of words, but it didn’t interest her and she couldn’t quite understand it. This wasn’t what she had gone to so much trouble to get her hands on.

Looks like something’s happening every day over there. Are you asking me to send money for your face cream? You’re clamoring for your own now, but after a while, won’t you demand money for Hong Gyeong-ae’s face cream, too? More than that, you must be dying for some drinking money. I sympathize with you a great deal, but sympathy is all I can give you. The weather will soon get warmer, so why don’t you dispose of that overcoat? When you’re truly in love, you don’t need food. How do I know this? That’s what people say, so who cares if you go around naked, let alone without an overcoat? As long as Hong Gyeong-ae likes you! But seriously, you need to give the whole thing some thought.

Pil-sun bit her lower lip and stifled a laugh. The letter was getting more interesting. Who was this Hong Gyeong-ae? And Byeong-hwa in love? She couldn’t picture it, no matter how hard she tried to imagine it.

You asked me if I know her. What does that have to do with your feelings for her? Can you get what you call comradeship from her? She may be attracted to you out of vanity and impulsiveness. There are some women, after all, who take pride in loving penniless men, and some will do anything to get their names in the papers, even if it means they have to kill themselves. But she’s also very intelligent and calculating. She’s the kind of person who can turn at the drop of a hat — even if she already has one foot in the door. When it comes to love or work, she’s not going to involve herself too deeply. But why would you want her to? Unless she took the initiative, why would you impose a commitment on her that would be heavy even for a man? Not to mention that it involves illegal business. People often ask whether women are just supposed to cook and raise children, but what can we do when the world needs hands to do just that? Until men develop breasts, women’s liberation is only a pipe dream. Why insist that women give up taking care of families? Mobilizing men to your cause will be more than enough.

Do you know why I say this? Because Hong Gyeong-ae has a young child (I don’t know if you are aware of it, but the child is my half sister), and if she were to get involved in your affairs, she might not be able to raise her. Hong Gyeong-ae also has a mother. Who else would be able to take care of her in her old age? Besides, it is anybody’s guess whether the young woman would actually get involved in your group. Given that the proprietor of Bacchus is not an ordinary woman, however, Hong Gyeong-ae herself may not be a woman who only sells liquor, smiles, and even kisses. You may not know who the proprietor is, not even her name, but when I met Hong Gyeong-ae briefly on the day I left (I dropped by to inquire about the child’s illness), she asked me to find out about O Jeong-ja, a student in the English Department of the women’s division at Doshisha University. She told me that it was the proprietor’s request. From her name, you probably think she’s Korean, but she’s the daughter of a Japanese judge or prosecutor who used to work in Korea. Anyway, since my arrival here, I’ve been so busy that I had forgotten all about it. Then, the day before yesterday, during a gathering of the Korean Students Association, I met a female student from Doshisha and inquired about O Jeong-ja. This may not come as a surprise to you, but I heard that she’s in a detention cell! The case is still under wraps and can’t be reported in the newspapers, but isn’t this out of the ordinary for the daughter of a judge or prosecutor? After I learned this and received your account of how Hong Gyeong-ae poured a torrent of kisses on you, I suspect that the two cases are related. The proprietor and O Jeong-ja, however, haven’t been in touch for quite a while, so perhaps they are just relatives or acquaintances.