An Examination of Kim Sa-Ryang’s Into the Light
Into the Light (Hikari no Naka ni) is a novel by First-Generation Zainichi Korean writer Kim Sa-Ryang (1939) that explores the experience of a Korean teacher in Japanese, Nam, who is more known for his Japanese name Minami, and his relationship with the half-Korean and half-Japanese student, Yamada Haruo. The story explores society through the pains and sufferings of Resident Koreans, as well as internal alienation and hatred between the Koreans and “Unloyal Koreans” or the Half-Japanese Half-Koreans. As such, it is about personal alienation, rediscovery of one’s origins, and acceptance of identities, which ultimately ends with both characters, Minami and Haruo, finding their place within the crowd, as part of Japanese society but still Korean at heart. To further analyse and put this novel into context of significance in Zainichi Korean Literature, I will discuss prominent features and issues within this paper, namely: (1) name and language as identity; (2) conformity and assimilation; (3) ethnicity, violence and social stigma; (4) gender roles; and (5) a deeper insight into zainichi korean literature.
Name and Language as Identity
To begin with, one of the central themes of this novel is the usage of names and language. The reformation of the person through language and name as an attempt to redefine the self was part of Minami’s undertaking. Throughout the text, we constantly see him referred to by the Japanese reading of his name, and seemingly have given up to try and correct it as he saw merit at being treated as Japanese, thus, there were moments where he felt as though the use of Korean was something shocking whenever he heard the words. In terms of his name– Minami in Japanese and Nam in Korean– it was implied, both by the voice of the narrative and the people or the community, that being referred to in either of those names, Minami or Nam was expected to embody traits, roles, and social conditions that were representative to the culture of which the name was to represent. We can find examples of this in the text, such as Minami’s own inner monologue: “My uneasiness no doubt proved that I associated my surname with something despicable in myself” during his conversation with Yi (Kim, 17); “I remembered that my current name was Minami, a fact that reverberated through my entire body like the peal of an electric bell” when he confronted himself during the hospital visit (Kim, 26); and in Minami’s attempt to speak with Haruo’s mother more comfortably and thus decided to introduce himself as Nam (Kim, 30). The latter allows the mother to break her wall of silence and treat Nam as someone she could confide with, even if limited, as opposed to being unresponsive if he was Minami.
Indeed, one’s identity can be traced with the language of which defines his life, of how one makes sense of the world around him, and of which the person uses to express himself. Ashcroft notes that in the past, the development of English as a formalised study was essential in the growth of the Empire, particularly from the coloniser’s point-of-view, as it would intrinsically influence the development of many other aspects of the colonised, both at the level of simple utility (propaganda), and the unconscious level (concepts, ideologies) that leads to the naturalising of the constructed values, which in turn, form the criteria where one can define the civilised from the primitive (1989, 3). For the purpose of this paper, we substitute English with Japanese. In Minami’s case, his continued reliance on his ability to adapt in several languages allowed him, first and foremost, to penetrate the ruling class’s identity, and secondly, allowed him a space where he can work with and perform the coloniser’s roles as the guiding figure. This control of the language, as Ashcroft would further explain in the introduction of his book “The Empire Writes Back” (1989), would account as one of the main features of imperial oppression through the standardisation and creation of the norm (7), thus language bears the burden of the experience for the colonised (10). In the text, language became a means of national loyalty and expression of raw emotion. We see examples of this when Minami realises his own feelings of alienation of his Korean language: “I was taken aback” when he was greeted by Yi in Korean (Kim, 7); in Yi’s own confession of confusion on which language to speak with Minami (Kim, 17); seen as trauma when Haruo’s mother Teijin desperately speaks and mispronounces how to say “worried” or “husband” in Korean language (Kim, 30-31); or when Yi’s mother’s exasperates with “Aigo” a Korean expression (Kim, 31). In this case, Japanese becomes an oppressive language and Korean became the language of raw emotions. Furthermore, Ashcroft cites Maxwell that it is when the language of the coloniser is inappropriate to describe the experience of place in post-colonial context that the colonised language resurfaces (1989, 23). Hence, the tendency of the text to appropriate Korean language as a patriotic characteristic. However, in the same way, by showing mastery of the oppressive and shaping language, one can defy conventions. In relation to the text’s function, it can be seen as an attempt to defy the literary canon through the portrayal of a Korean protagonist who speaks in both languages, and at some point in the text, became the guiding figure of Haruo (who was regarded as Japanese in the beginning and before the revelation of his parents’ true identities). But even after revelation, Minami’s authority, that he sees himself worthy of guiding Haruo even as a father figure in the ending, was partly because of his self-confidence as a teacher and as someone who could wrestle with both languages that shape the world they revolved in, and partly as a Korean– a message to indicate how as a Korean, he can be accepting of others, especially when he views Haruo (who is now revealed to be half-Korean and half-Japanese) as the best way to bridge the two cultures.
Conformity and Assimilation
Another issue to be raised in this text revolves around conformity and assimilation. While both may appear to mean the same, that which it represents an action to adhere to the new order, there is a significant difference in the way both words operate. Conformity, according to the Oxford Dictionary of English, refers to “compliance with the standards, rules, or laws” or “behaviour in accordance to socially accepted conventions”. This means that there is a self-conscious effort– the accepting of the prescriptions of society. The text explores the nature of conformity of the world of the narrative, specifically through Minami’s own observations, such as an episode of his “re-invention of the self”: “In the beginning, it really got on my nerves, but after a while, I realised it really wasn’t such a bad thing, especially for getting along with the children…” (Kim, 16) and “I just wanted to get along well with the children” (Kim, 17) regarding the reading of his name which brings forth expectation of what a Japanese reading of his name entailed, such as posture, manner of talking and his interpersonal relationship. However, the pressures and responsibilities of conformity would also haunt him as seen in his self-reflecting monologue after the Teijin incident: “I think I was too afraid to confront it. I just wanted to cover my eyes” (Kim, 24) where his sympathetic feelings of suffering of the Koreans are being hindered by his responsibilities as a teacher of Japanese, or as Minami and not as Nam.
In most cases, when conformity sets in, the marginalised would eventually be drawn-in towards the hegemony as part of the hegemony’s response of the marginalised’s action, thus, laying a trap for the unsuspecting individual to immerse into the imported culture and deny their origins, or as Said notes, “that [it creates a] conscious affiliation proceeding under the guise of filiation– [that is] mimicry of the centre proceeding from a desire not only to be accepted but to be adopted and absorbed” (Ashcroft, 1989, 3-4). However, this was not the case in the text, or at the very least, it can be read as instead of denying one’s origin due to the absorption of the new culture and language, what resulted for Minami was the type of mimicry that Bhabba speaks of– that it becomes a strategy of cultural resistance, where imitation is apparent but the uniqueness and differences are maintained and acknowledged (1993). We see this in Minami’s attempt to become a guiding figure, a father figure towards Haruo in the end of the novel. However, in the beginning of the story, the more Minami defines how he and Haruou were different, the more the hostility was apparent in their relationship. It was only when similarities were acknowledged, their ethnicity, Minami’s use of Korean language and Korean name which brings out a different demeanour from him– almost familial, casual and genuine. And so, we see his relationship with Haruo developing positively, culminating in the ending where Minami is called Nam (his Korean name) and he sees himself and Haruo as being part of the crowd in the mall while still being themselves (Kim, 35). In this case, there is assimilation. According to the Oxford Dictionary of English, assimilation refers to “taking in and understanding fully information or ideas” or “absorption and integration”. Thus there is no active resistance involved, nor a forceful inculcation, but a degree of an adaptation, for in addition to the learned foreign language (and consequently culture), the characters retain their identity as Koreans and fully acknowledge it by the end of the novel. Another example is Yi’s character, upon acquiring his driver’s license, becomes integrated into society that his perception changes, particularly his demeanour towards Haruo: “He was unusually chipper, blinking his beautiful, black eyes brimming with pride and joy” (Kim, 36)
Ethnicity, Violence and Social Stigma
Ethnicity always plays a part in the concept of “Othering” as Spivak mentions it is the site where the “self”– colonisers– has the power to define the “other”– subalterns subjected to colonial rule who does not have a voice of other own (1988). By creating an avenue where the self and the other can find position in opposition with each other, the narrative develops to portray social positions and power interplay. In this text, physical appearance became the primary criteria for judging. We see this in the incident when Yi confesses his assumption of Minami: “Judging from your eyes, your cheekbones, the shape of your nose, I thought for certain you were Korean” (Kim, 17). In the same way, Minami was also quick to assume with regard to Yamada Hanbei, describing the facial features, almost in praise of beauty (Kim, 27), that he was certain the man was Korean, but at the call of his name “Yamada”, Minami became more certain that he was, in fact, a mainland Japanese. And because of this, the succeeding descriptions of Hanbei were derogatory and foul (Kim, 28). This can be answered through historical reasoning, that due to the geographical proximity of Korea and Japan, and the recent colonisation, that Koreans and Japanese had a deeper connection. Throughout the text, we are informed that it is easier for asian foreigners (Korean, in this case), to assimilate into Japanese society, as they have similar features, making it difficult to tell apart, especially when there is no name to label the identity of the person.
However, once the name is applied, as I have discussed earlier, there are set expectations that are brought into light. This, then, connects with the prevailing social stigma attributed to the definition of a name or category. In the text, this is very much prevalent as one’s ideology influencing their perception and reception of the world and the people around them. Some examples in the text are the following: Haruo telling the Minami about a good Japanese teacher and a good-for-nothing Korean student (Kim, 21) which perpetuates the concept of Japan as superior and Korean as inferior; for Minami to imagine the difficult life of Haruo and Teijin (24-25) would mean that this phenomena was a normal occurrence to a Resident Korean family; when Minami learned of Haruo’s father as Hanbei, it made him fear for the boy’s future for following Hanbei’s footsteps, that is to be imprisoned as a delinquent or troublemaker (27) meant that he knew well the consequences of an unguided Korean (half-Korean in this case) youth as having no future at all; and lastly when Minami assumes about Teijin’s life upon meeting her, “How, I wondered, could she go on living her life based on such servile sense of gratitude?” (31) as if to speak as a witness of what is expected of someone of her social stature to endure in such a family.
Because of the social stigma that is implicated by the categorisation, in this case, ethnicity, it becomes an active aspect and becomes more evident in the different forms of violence portrayed in the text, of which I divided further into three main themes: man vs man, man vs self, and man vs society. In the first theme, “man vs man”, we see violence as tension between Yi and Minami whenever there is an issue of one’s loyalty between being Japanese (by means of name and language) and being Korean (by blood). Another example, and perhaps the most violent is seen in the relationship of Hanbei and Teijin, with the latter as a battered and oppressed wife for the sole reason that she is purely Korean and Hanbei, though Half-Japanese and Half-Korean, forsaken his Korean identity in order to grab hold of the power of the superior. Another example would be between Yi and Haruo, with the former expressing his contempt for Haruo’s mixed blood, attributing him as “unloyal Korean” and dirty, and in the later part of the novel, physically being violent with the boy. Though it should be noted that this demeanour changes the moment he receives his driving license, of which gives him a higher standing in society (finding his place) and therefore his outward hatred for Haruo would be lessened as he now has something far more important. For the second theme, “man vs self”, we see this in the inner monologue of Minami, where many times he contradicts himself, at first being self-righteous of his achievements and skill, and in the later part of the novel, self-loathing at he realises his self-alienation and inability to choose loyalty between ethnicity because of the knowledge of social repercussions and the social stigma embedded in those ethnic categories. Finally, for the last theme, “man vs society”, we see this in the narrative when they would describe how Japanese people were harsh and violent and Koreans were always the victims; or when Haruo, even as a child, was never accepted by the Resident Korean community for his mixed blood.
Gender Roles
I have already began to touch on the gender roles portrayed in this text with the violence depicted in Yamada Hanbei and Teijin’s relationship, which can be approached as a metaphor for Japan and Korea, respectively. From recounting the tale of Teijin, we get a glimpse of a woman’s worth in society, such as when Hanbei supposedly demanded her from her workplace, as if by right as a man and Japanese he had the power to do so, and Teijin could not refuse because she was Korean and a woman. Not only are they resembling metaphors for the power-relations of the two countries, they may also represent the humanistic aspects of their gender roles, such as Hanbei the man was destructive and aggressive, while Teijin the woman was the victim and oppressed. Furthermore, De Beauvoir continues this argument of male finding the women as the lesser sex, hence the so-called “Other”: “… Thus, humanity is male and man defines woman not in herself but as relative to him[…] the body of man makes sense in itself quite apart from that of woman, whereas the latter seems waiting in significance by itself […] Man can think of himself without woman, while She cannot think of herself without man as she is simply what man defines will always be differentiated with reference to man […] she is the incidental while man is the essential, therefore, ‘He’ is the Subject and Absolute, while ‘she’ is the Other” (1988, 16). John Bergers, in his book “Ways of Seeing” (1972) explains the visual aspect portrayed by paintings as representation of society, thus catering always to a male audience where the woman will always be a passive actor, if not, just an accessory. Applying his theory in this text, particularly in the depiction of Hanbei and Teijin, the former is always active while the latter is passive to the point of being discarded like an accessory, left to fend on her own, when she was beaten half to death in the novel. At this point of the story, we then see Yi who jumps into action, finding himself in an active role to save Teijin, and perform some kind of revenge towards Haruo whom he saw was representative of the father, Hanbei.
In another assignment of gender roles, we see Yi’s mother as the traditional Korean, who speaks to Teijin about proper custom and difference of treatment should she have married into a Korean family. In the same way, we see Teijin who is fully aware of her trapped life as a woman who must abide by the laws of a patriarchal society.
But perhaps one interesting assignment of gender role is placed on Minami, as he is both a male who must perform an active role, and yet his job is a teacher which has a nurturing function akin to a female. And in the end of the novel, we see him accepting both of the roles as someone who must guide Haruo as a father figure, and to do so, he must appeal to him as someone he could confide with, trust, and depend on like a mother.
In the end, however, it should be noted that anything about Korea, whether it be tradition, subservience, and maltreatment, is always personified by the female characters of the story. While there were two characters who were half-Japanese– Hanbei and Haruo– they, along with Minami, all began the story as people who disguised their Korean identity (or in the case of Minami, no one bothered to ask about it so he saw no need to correct it), thus identifying more towards their Japanese identity, and are presented as male.
Insights into Zainichi Korean Literature
Nearing the end of this paper, it is worthwhile to discuss on the insights about Zainichi Korean Literature. Like many other post-colonial literature, it wrestles on the identity formation and burden of displacement within Japanese society. While there have been many Korean authors who have contributed for the formation of this literary body in order to document and shed light to the life and society of Koreans living in Japan or abroad, there are three central appropriation strategies that they incorporate in their writings. First is the creation of Korean worlds which refers to creating an identity through the experience, the setting, the tradition, and the characters that would exhibit the Korean features and functions in the narrative. Second is the appropriation of the Japanese Style, many of which has been read and written as a Shishousetsu, a format that is well known for Japanese writers, which informs the readers and publishers of their intent to be heard and read in equal treatment. And thirdly, the use of Korean linguistics in the text in order to shock or defamiliarise the text, as if to boldly speak in a foreign language in order to reverse the feelings of alienation, even if briefly. For this particular text, Kim Sa-Ryang’s use of the appropriation strategies flows naturally that it becomes part of the text– that is to say, without them, there would be no text at all. And for this reason, the text becomes a free-flowing read, able to communicate a simple narrative as effectively as it could without sparking any controversial issue. Which is, perhaps, a reason as to why it was nominated for the Akutagawa Award.
And much like in post-colonial story where the there is no definite ending, that it simply ends where the writing stops as it is a piece of literature that only reflects part of the incident, the ending of this particular novel is truly where the story can start or proceed from. In fact, most of the time, the message that authors wants to leave for their intended audience is found at the end. With regard to the ending of this novel, here are my two thoughts on the final paragraph where Nam feels a sense of liberation upon hearing Haruo call him in his Korean Name (Kim, 38). Firstly, that the boy accepting him as a Korean, by use of his Korean name, both Nam and Haruo feels more comfortable and accepting about Koreans and the concepts and expectations that are held by such an identity. This does not mean that they fall into the trap of the social stigmas, rather, they finally find a place for themselves in society (as seen in the mall scene) and how their presence is almost invisible in the crowd that they can find themselves at ease with even when they held their identities, now, as Koreans. And secondly, Haruo becomes a multifaceted character, representing the Japanese, the Koreans, or both sides of his heritage at once, which gives Minami, the author, and the reader a sense of hope for understanding beyond the social stigmas and diverging social status. Thus, as Haruo is seen walking towards the light with Nam/Minami reaching out a hand, this particular scene, at one point, calls attention to the title, “Into the Light” as if to show that the answer to the problems in society was someone like Haruo who needed guidance, acceptance and a future. During the class presentation, another reading of the novel’s title was implicated during that scene when Haruo’s dream to be a dancer underneath the spotlight was revealed, hence, Minami was sympathetic and wanted to help the boy reach for his dreams, as opposed to be left unguided.
In conclusion, Into the Light by Kim Sa-Ryang is undoubtedly an important piece of Zainichi Korean Literature, for its simplicity, direct and almost conforming style, which endeavours Korean co-existence with the Japanese. And what makes this novel stand out is how different its ideals are from Kim Sa-Ryang the writer who had clear Anti-Japanese sentiments, especially when he later returned to Korea to support the communist party. Reading a novel closely to the life of the author is a common misconception and approach, but it was not the case for this novel. As such, this piece cannot be tied strictly to the author’s life as sole influence alone, but by the circumstances of the society that it hoped to portray– that, indeed, while there were scenes in the narrative that seemingly preached about the misgivings of the Japanese and the call to return to Old Korea, the answer reached by the ending had a brighter hope for resolution.
Works cited:
1. Ashcroft, Bill, Gareth Griffiths, and Helen Tiffin. 1989. The Empire Writes Back. London: Routledge. http://public.eblib.com/choice/publicfullrecord.aspx?p=149271.
2. Bhabha, Homi Jehangir. 1993. “Of Mimicry and Man” Location of Culture. Routledge.
3. Berger, John. 1972. Ways of seeing ; a book made by John Berger [and other]. New York: British Broadcasting Corporation and Penguin Books.
4. De Beauvoir, Simone. Introduction. The Second Sex. Trans. and ed. H. M. Parshley. London: Picador, 1988. 13 – 29.
5. Spivak, Gayatri Chakravorty. 1988. Can the subaltern speak? Basingstoke: Macmillan.
6. Wender, Melissa L. 2011. Into the light an anthology of literature by Koreans in Japan. Honolulu: University of Hawaii press.
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