Unveiling Unrecorded Legacies: The Empowering Finale of ‘Pachinko’
In the climactic conclusion of “Pachinko,” the Apple TV+ series, the spotlight shifts to a group of remarkable women whose narratives have often been overlooked by history books: ethnic Koreans who, akin to the protagonist Sunja, migrated to Japan during colonial times and grappled with systemic discrimination in their adopted land.
At the heart of “Pachinko,” the adaptation of Min Jin Lee’s expansive novel on Apple TV+, lies Sunja, a figure born in Korea under Japanese occupation who embarks on a journey to Japan in the early 20th century.
It’s an expansive narrative of immigrant perseverance, exploring themes of identity, belonging, and the enduring scars of historical trauma across generations. While its messages resonate universally, “Pachinko” is firmly grounded in a specific historical context, shedding light on a pivotal chapter that risks fading into obscurity.
This is what lends a profound significance to the series’ closing moments.
The eight-episode season, tracing the impact of Japanese colonialism on Sunja and her descendants, culminates in the inclusion of documentary footage featuring real-life counterparts to Sunja – Korean women who relocated to Japan between 1910 and 1945, and remained there post-World War II. Through their candid interviews, viewers are granted a rare glimpse into a chapter of history often omitted from mainstream narratives.
Showrunner Soo Hugh, in a recent interview with CNN, underscored the importance of amplifying these voices: “Their stories were overlooked, their voices marginalized. Photographic evidence is scarce, particularly from that initial generation. But to me, their narrative demanded to be heard.”
The octogenarian and nonagenarian women showcased in the concluding segment of “Pachinko” bear witness to a tumultuous era – one where they confronted myriad challenges and entrenched discrimination in their adopted homeland. Despite the odds stacked against them, they persevered. Yet, as Hugh lamented, many were made to believe that their experiences held little significance.
Driven by a fear of these stories fading into oblivion, Hugh felt compelled to integrate their testimonies into the series, a tribute to their resilience and fortitude.
“Pachinko” vividly portrays a harrowing past
Sunja’s journey from her Korean village to Japan in the 1930s, compelled by unforeseen circumstances and a marriage to a man bound for Osaka, lays bare the harsh realities faced by Koreans in Japan – a life marked by struggle and sacrifice.
For many of her contemporaries, Sunja’s trials mirror their own.
As Japan sought to extend its dominion across East Asia, a wave of Korean migration to Japan ensued. Some sought economic or educational opportunities, while others had little choice in the matter. Hundreds of thousands were conscripted into labor during Japan’s wartime efforts, enduring grueling conditions for meager wages. Additionally, Korean women were coerced into sexual servitude for the Japanese military. Amidst backbreaking labor and substandard living conditions, Koreans grappled with racism and discriminatory practices.
“I arrived at 11 and began working at 13,” recounts Chu Nam-Sun, one of the women featured in the documentary footage. “My upbringing was steeped in sorrow. It’s made me wary of others. I often wonder if that’s a result of my upbringing.”
The term “Zainichi,” which translates to “residing in Japan,” refers to Koreans who migrated during colonial rule and their descendants. Jackie Kim-Wachutka, a researcher who collaborated on the series, spent years chronicling the experiences of first-generation Zainichi women.
In her interactions with these women, Kim-Wachutka unearthed a narrative seldom explored: the everyday struggles of ordinary women navigating extraordinary circumstances.
“They painted a vivid portrait of migrant life and its myriad challenges,” reflects Kim-Wachutka, whose work became essential reading for the “Pachinko” writing team. “Their struggles transcended mere survival. Many worked outside the home, employing various means to make ends meet.”
Much like Sunja, who sells kimchi to sustain her family, these women resorted to inventive measures to eke out a living during Japan’s colonial era. From brewing illicit alcohol to traversing rural landscapes in search of marketable goods, they leveraged their skills to carve out a semblance of stability.
“In their narratives, I discern echoes of Sunja’s resilience,” observes Kim-Wachutka.
Thus, when Hugh proposed incorporating their voices into the series, Kim-Wachutka welcomed the opportunity, recognizing the importance of bridging the gap between fictional portrayals and lived experiences.
Women like Sunja persevered against all odds
Despite Japan’s hostile treatment, Sunja chooses to remain in Japan even after the end of colonial rule.
For subsequent generations of Sunja’s lineage, epitomized by the character Solomon, Japan becomes home – though their sense of belonging is often contested.
While many Koreans returned to their homeland post-World War II, the women featured in the documentary footage are among the 600,000 who opted to stay in Japan.
“Korea is no longer an option for me,” asserts Chu Nam-Sun, switching between Japanese and Korean. “This is my home now.”
Their reasons for staying varied, as noted by Rennie Moon in a 2010 article for Stanford University’s SPICE Digest. Some found stability in Japan and were reluctant to uproot their lives. Others believed their children had integrated into Japanese society, while some lacked the means to return to Korea.
“I hesitate to say this, but my children couldn’t adapt to Korea,” shares Kang Bun-Do, now 93. “So I ensured they assimilated into Japanese society.”
Under colonial rule, Koreans in Japan were classified as Japanese nationals. However, post-World War II, they found themselves effectively stateless, subject to discriminatory policies and pervasive racism. As Zainichi Koreans fought for recognition and rights in the ’70s and ’80s, overt discrimination waned, yet deep-seated prejudices persisted.
For the first-generation women featured in “Pachinko,” life has been a series of trials and triumphs. Ri Chang-Won beams with pride as she speaks of her son and grandchildren. Chu Nam-Sun flips through old photographs, marveling at the passage of time. Despite their hardships, they harbor no regrets.
“In the life I chose, I encountered no hardships,” reflects Chu Nam-Sun. “I forged my path without regrets.”
Their narratives offer insight into the past and present
In amplifying these voices, Hugh aimed to empower the women, ensuring their agency and avoiding exploitation. For many, the experience of sharing their stories proved cathartic.
A poignant moment unfolds as Kim-Wachutka praises Ri Chang-Won’s radiant smile, prompting laughter from the octogenarian. When composure is regained, Ri expresses gratitude.
“I’m sure my story wasn’t the most thrilling, but thank you for listening,” she says.
The stories of first-generation Zainichi women, akin to Sunja’s odyssey in “Pachinko,” foster vital dialogues on race, oppression, and reconciliation – not solely within the context of Koreans in Japan but across global communities. By listening to these narratives, we confront the injustices of the past, endeavoring to chart a more equitable future.