road and buses coming to a loud stop.
“Mom, what’s wrong? What happened?”
Soo-Ja smiled through her tears, wiping them away. “I’m all right. Everything worked out. Let’s go.”
“Was Yul there? What did he say to you?”
“Nothing. He wasn’t there,” said Soo-Ja.
“Then what took you so long?” Hana asked cautiously.
Soo-Ja nodded. How could she hide her joy from her daughter? She couldn’t.
Hana squinted her eyes and looked as if she understood. “You have him, don’t you? You have Yul.”
Soo-Ja leaned forward, nodding, and kissed her daughter’s head. Even though night was beginning to fall, surprisingly it wasn’t cold. The weather had turned the day before, and a warm blanket of air enveloped them as they walked. Soo-Ja liked this—when she thought she might need a coat or a sweater, and she didn’t, and for that she was grateful. Everybody in the crowded street seemed to be thinking the same thing: spring had arrived, at last. As Soo-Ja walked, she kept noticing the faces of the people around her, especially the women. Soo-Ja didn’t know where they were going, or where she and Hana were going, for that matter. They simply walked together, Hana’s arm around her waist, her head leaning slightly toward her mother’s shoulder. The strangers who walked by and saw them may not have found anything remarkable about them, and she liked being ordinary, just mother and daughter. Straight ahead, construction cranes lifted steel bars onto bare scaffolding, while window-washers descended in their bosun’s chairs. Store loudspeakers announced sales, and food shop greeters called for new customers. Bicycles and carts sped past pedestrians—bells ringing, horns blaring. Exhaust fumes rose from the ground, tinting the air black and brown for a second or two. The streets seemed to widen in front of Soo-Ja and Hana, and the two of them held hands tightly as they kept walking, joining the rest of Seoul.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
My agent, Lisa Grubka, at Foundry Literary + Media, is the best agent I could have hoped for, and I’m lucky to have her knowledge, hard work, and good judgment on my side. My editor, Kerri Kolen, at Simon & Schuster, is simply the best: her editorial guidance made this story better in every way, and, with unyielding enthusiasm, she served as this book’s best possible advocate and midwife. Also at Simon & Schuster, many thanks to Jonathan Karp, Amanda Ferber, Tracey Guest, Rebecca Marsh, Sammy Perlmutter, Jackie Seow, and Wendy Sheanin.
In researching some of the historical and cultural details of mid-century Korea, I have relied on a number of studies and memoirs, and am especially indebted to the following: Korea’s Place in the Sun: A Modern History, by Bruce Cumings; Symbolism in Korean Ink Brush Painting, by Francis Mullany; Korea: A Walk through the Land of Miracles, by Simon Winchester; The Koreans: Who They Are, What They Want, Where Their Future Lies, by Michael Breen; One Thousand Chestnut Trees, by Mira Stout; and Home Was the Land of Morning Calm, by K. Connie Kang. I also couldn’t have researched this book without the Korea Annual volumes published by the Hapdong News Agency.
I have many, many people to thank for helping me with support, feedback, or both, during the time I was writing this book: Crystal Williams gave me a beautiful home in which to write. Jean Petrolle read an early draft with great attention and care, providing priceless insights and encouragement. At Foundry, “anonymous” readers Chelsea and Laurel. Hyunjung Bae, Michael Dwyer, David Lazar, Wendy Lee, and Karen Osborne provided advice, information, and suggestions. Curtis Sittenfeld is the book’s fada madrinha (fairy godmother). Her brilliance, wisdom, and generosity of spirit touched this book in all of its stages. For as long as I can remember, Maitraya Patel has been my biggest supporter and my best friend, and I could not have asked for a better one—his loyalty over the years has been unwavering, and his belief in me never-ending.
Finally, I am lucky and blessed to have the love of an incredible family. Kwang Ok Park has been the most kind and giving dad I could hope for. My sister Julie is the most generous and caring person I know.
My sister Mila delights me with her wisdom—her initial support for the book helped me keep faith in the darkest of times. My mother, Ryung Hee Park, whom this book is dedicated to and inspired by, is a heroic figure and gifted storyteller. A mother-lion in every way, she has sacrificed and fought all her life to give her children a good life. Without her efforts, this book would simply not exist.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Samuel Park is an Assistant Professor of English at Columbia College Chicago. He graduated from Stanford University and the University of Southern California, where he earned his doctorate. He is the author of the novella Shakespeare’s Sonnets and the writer-director of the short film of the same name. He lives in Chicago.