Korean Literature Review – The Other Side of Dark Remembrance
A man wakes up in an unfamiliar room with a raging hangover, bloodstained clothes and a vague sense that he has lost something. Although a quick search of his pockets reveals that his money is where it ought to be, the sense of relief this brings is short-lived. As the unnamed character gathers his wits, an uncomfortable realization settles over him. At some point during the previous evening’s drunken carousing he has misplaced his satchel containing documents vital to the prosperity of the minor trading company for which he works.
The missing satchel is a classic MacGuffin that sets the plot of Lee Kyun-Young’s The Other Side of Dark Remembrance in motion. With his job on the line, the character has only the weekend to recover his lost property and preserve the future he’s worked so hard to secure. With the persistence of a detective, he follows the trail of clues leading away from the carnal house where he has unwittingly passed the night. Despite the movements of the city and the comings and goings of the people, the character is utterly alone. Amid such desolation, he stumbles upon a repressed memory of refugees fleeing across a war-torn landscape. Far from gratuitous, the memory serves as the first substantive clue that the lost satchel is not the true source of the character’s agony.
As he ponders the existence of a parallel universe (presumably one in which he hasn’t lost his satchel) a strange transformation takes place. The focus of his frantic search, once a mere object, emerges as a fully functioning metaphor of partition and the loss of Korean unity in nationhood. Although it may seem tenuous at first, the connection strengthens throughout the second half of the book in which the character relives the forced parting of he and his beloved younger sister. As he trawls through the half-forgotten events of his childhood, one thing becomes increasingly apparent. The true focus of his search is (and always has been) the lost half of his divided self.
The satchel is eventually recovered, but the same cannot be said of the character’s peace of mind. Despite his salvation from the imminent calamity at work, he soon finds himself back in the bars. There is still one mystery left to solve. Although the emergency surrounding the missing satchel had prevented him from doing so earlier, he begins to question the benevolent interference of a certain prostitute who’d helped him to a room and tended to his bumps and bruises. Why had she done such a thing when there was nothing obvious in it for her? The question leads to a poignant reunion in which the pair acknowledges the misery of a childhood lived during the worst of the war years.
The shared agony of history is an essential aspect of the bond that exists among Koreans. Indeed, according to Lee Kyun-Young, the absence that drives the character to drink is the same as that carried in the heart of every Korean since partition. While healing may remain elusive as long as the nation remains divided, there is solace to be found in the sharing of pain.