Without You, There Is No Us: My Time with the Sons of North Korea's Elite

I posted this review on my website. It can be accessed here: http://arthurreber.com/home/suki-kims-book-on-teaching-in-north-korea.html along with views on a host of topics. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The book chronicles her months teaching at a college in North Korea run (and financed) by fundamentalist Christians. While this seems wildly implausible there’s a strange logic behind it. Their church paid for the construction of the campus and provides the operating budget, the equipment and the teachers. They do not proselytize (or they would be quickly removed). They teach. They believe that North Korea is the next country that God plans to free from state-imposed atheism and they want to be there to be ready to spread the word of Jesus when this happens. They run a similar school in China. They are patient. Kim was hired to teach English by gently disguising her agnosticism. The title is from a song sung repeatedly by her students, the “You” is the Great Leader Kim Jong-Il and the “Us” is the North Korean people. Kim gives a remarkable, chilling insight into the black collectivist pit that is North Korea. It’s important to step back from Kim’s descriptions of her months teaching English there and appreciate, fully and depressingly, that her students and the stunted, impoverished, intellectually diminished lives they lead are, in fact, the sons of the elite. These are the future leaders of this backward land and, as she deftly chronicles, will come into positions of power and influence knowing virtually nothing. It isn’t possible to convey the complex interlocking relationships Kim forms with her students in a simple essay. They’re marked by efforts to reach out constrained by a self-censoring. She cannot tell them too much about the outside world, it could be dangerous — to them. If they were to learn that they live as virtual prisoners in the most backward, impoverished country on the planet it would not go well for them. She cannot let them know that their “Intranet” which only links to local servers, is not the real “Internet.” They do not know and must not learn that the highways in other countries actually have many cars travelling on them, that markets are filled with fresh vegetables and fruits, that libraries exist where you can choose which book you wish to read. She also must protect herself from prying eyes. She is accompanied by “monitors” wherever she goes. Her emails are read. All her letters are opened before posting. All the rooms have bugs. All her lessons must be cleared by “counterparts.” And, of course, she must also take care not to let her devout, occasionally fanatical Christian colleagues know of her true beliefs. The stress is crushing. Kim is vulnerable in an oddly charming way. Some of her revelations about her insecurities and longings and unfulfilled relationships are cringe-worthy but ultimately they complete the picture: complex person, strong and resilient when she needs to be and, at other times, anything but. But at the core is the very existence of North Korea and the life its citizens not only cannot escape from but do not, cannot, fully grasp what it is they live in. The focus is on her students all of whom are young men nineteen and twenty years old who have been sent to this college to learn — in her classes, English. They are the sons of the elite and are taking advantage of the largess of the Christian fundamentalists who are paying for everything, a significant factor in a land of crushing poverty. A couple of things popped out at me. For one, there was an intriguing, almost paradoxical self-centered element that emerged around exam time when several of her students did not do well. Suddenly the collectivist ideals, the group mentality that marked everything they did vanished and in swept a singular focus on themselves, on the impact these grades might have on their future, what university they might be admitted to, what level of Party involvement they may be offered. Earlier they were one, a collective fully conscious of and part of an oddly functional homo Gestalt. They dressed alike, sang, marched and ran in groups, worked together and, as Kim discovered to her surprise, would never even come to office hours without a least one friend in tow. Yet they were, at the same time, intensely competitive and when exam time arrived, they became individuals. Oddly, neither they nor Kim seem to appreciate this disconnect. There’s also an odd acceptance of Americans as teachers, revered for their knowledge, treated with great respect and almost always referred to as “Professor.” Yet they are raised to view America as the Great Satan, the obscene embodiment of capitalism, the nurturer of wars and their eternal enemy. Daily they are bombarded with speeches, songs, news programs all repeating a litany of the evilness of America and its values, which they dutifully parrot back. Yet, they welcome Americans as respected teachers whose opinions they probe for, whose language they strive to learn, whose knowledge they seek and whose trust they long for. Kim also describes her students as inveterate liars. They lie about everything. They tell tales of spending the weekend with their parents when she knows they are never permitted to leave the college grounds. They talk of having visited other cities when they clearly reveal that they do not know where they are. They tell of trips to China or London which are not possible. A favorite prevarication is the claim that they had been offered a scholarship to a famous university (in Singapore, Beijing or even Oxford) but they turned it down to stay at their current school in Pyongyang. When she pushes at these little fibs they use a device they’re quite fond of — they say, “let’s change the topic now and talk about something else.” Kim wonders if this repeated twisting of the truth might not come from being raised in a society where they are lied to all the time by everyone, especially the government. This might be part of it but more likely it’s just a feeble effort at self-aggrandizing. Her young charges seem astonishingly credulous. They appear to accept at face value the most preposterous stories about their “powerful and prosperous” country which is the envy of the rest of the world and whose “Great Leader” accomplishes near miracles on a daily basis. If they do question this touted magnificence they cover themselves well. When the Great Leader Kim Jong-Il dies they are stricken speechless. They weep uncontrollably and stare hopelessly at the horizons. Their pain feels real. The picture painted of North Korea is depressing beyond imagining. All of Kim’s experiences are with the favored elite in a select college but it is nightmarish — no heat, blackouts constantly, thin soups and wilted vegetables for meals, total control of all movements, forced labor at duties like guarding shrines, cleaning, weeding, construction, regular indoctrination sessions and endless hours at Juche, the virtual religion based on the life and deeds of godheads Kim Il-Sung and Kim Jong-Il. Her only glimpses of the typical citizens are on road trips outside Pongyang. Though these are tightly scripted and controlled she cannot be kept from seeing the shrunken, wizened, starving poor trudging along empty highways, carrying empty bags and looking like the damned in a cheap horror movie. On these trips they often come upon small groups of people sitting in the middle of a highway sharing food. There is so little traffic that these wide, smooth roads have become a place to gather. The photo shows the Korean peninsula at night. The single dot of light is the capital Pongyang. The row of lights to the north are in China, along the border. At one point Kim decides to bake her students a chocolate cake and finds that she cannot find the ingredients even at the most upscale markets (which she is only allowed to enter when on an official trip with “minders” alongside her every step). There is no cake flour, no fresh currants or raisins and, of course, no chocolate to be had. If nothing else the powers that run North Korea have found the way to keep a totalitarian state from being overthrown from within. There can be no revolution if the people truly believe that they are living in the most prosperous and successful country in the world, that their land is the envy of every other, that their Leader is revered and worshipped everywhere, that their kimchi is better than any other food and that in every country around the globe people strive to try to make a kimchi like that they are served every day — along with a watery soup, a few rancid vegetables and, perhaps once a week, a few slices of gristle and fat that once sat on the hind quarters of a pig. Kim comes to love her charges and she should. They are fascinating, engaging, smart, caring and loving. But the gap between where they are, what they know, what they believe, what they hope for and the reality that lies beyond the borders of this strange country where some twenty-seven million souls live in a beautiful, mountainous land is so vast that it cannot be bridged. Every once in a while a glimmer in a student’s eye tells her that he has grasped a sliver of truth about their fate and a tiny flicker of understanding about what is out there but it fades quickly, to be replaced by a robotic assurance that their lives are the best that could ever be hoped for. If these walls ever come down, if this government ever collapses the rubble that the world will find strewn across the land will be terrible. It could take a generation to recover from it.

There Is No Us Without You by Suki Kim is a memoir of an author looking for her own self- identity. Some may consider it a novel of betrayal as the author admits that she took on a false identity to get access to a closed society in order to get the information presented here. She apologizes for that. I am in agreement that in some situations the end justifies the means; there was no other way to get the information presented here. This book shares a theme with The Girl With Seven Names by Hyeon Seo Lee. Both authors left Korea in their teenage years, both spent a lot of time in other countries and both had feelings of “coming home” when they were able to spend time upon their return to Korea (both North and South). Lee’s book is reviewed elsewhere in this blog. I read and reviewed both in preparation for meeting this author at the UBUD writers and readers conference in Bali, Indonesia from 27 to 31 October 2016. Both authors offer similar observations of daily existence in North Korea under the rule of three generations of the “Kim” family: Kim Il-Sung, Kim Jong-il, and Kim Jong-un. It is difficult for a westerner to appreciate the acceptance of conditions of life described by Suki Kim that the population of North Korea endures. But when nothing else is known, what is the alternative? Suki Kim deplores and is saddened by the conditions under which creative, intelligent minds are diverted from creativity and critical analysis to a creativity that is targeted to better ways to conform to the demands of an autocratic system. From a background of Korean pride, she makes several important observations on daily life at a school for elite youth in North Korea. In order to get into North Korea, in order to accept a job as a teacher while gathering material for this book, Kim had to agree to alter her behavior so as not to offend a student population that she would face. By following the rules, and there were many, she would also be able to avoid sanctions from bosses, political minders, and possible government spies who would be checking on her compliance and motivation for being in North Korea. Although saddened by the unthinking compliance of her students, she writes of herself “We accepted our situation meekly. How quickly we became prisoners, how quickly we gave up our freedom, how quickly we tolerated the loss of that freedom.” (p. 88). Accepting the teaching job, Kim was a part of a missionary group. They had frequent motivational meetings to keep strong in a faith that found conditions in North Korea unacceptable. In one meeting Kim made this observation. “I could not help noticing that if you replaced the word Jesus with Great Leader, the content was not so different from some of the North Korean songs my students chanted several times each day. In both groups, singing was a joyful, collective ritual from which they took strength.” (p. 110). In the current political environment of the US, replacing Jesus or Great Leader with “Trump” might explain some of the mindless reactions reported by the US press. Kim again makes a connection between governmental mind control and religion when she writes of Rachel, a colleague, searching for evidence of a bell which supposedly formed the basis for the establishment of an early church in Pyongyang. “Rachel found the students strangely gullible, yet it was she who roamed the ditch beside the teachers’ dormitory, searching for the spot where the sacred bell from the first church of Pyongyang had “accidentally” been found on the PUST campus. We believe what we want to believe. If these sad people wanted so desperately to hold on to the myth of their Great Leader as the rightful heir to Dangun, who could blame them? The blame really lay with those who perpetuated these stories to control the masses.” (p. 133-134). Control of the masses? How can we control the masses? Perhaps through the manipulation of mass media. Again, we have modern day relevance of Kim’s observations. Throughout the book, I read to find instances of mind control and how the population related to and dealt with it. How could there be so much loyalty in the face of constant hunger? How can there be a population-wide acceptance of and knowledge about the existence of a group of attractive women kept for the service of top leadership? How can an entire population be ignorant of the existence of the internet thinking instead that an intranet communication network was a satisfactory substitute? There is much to recommend in this book. The big thing to watch is the way Kim’s thinking changes over time. Out of a sense of Korean pride, she is at first proud to see the progress and dedication of her students. At the same time, she is depressed about the paucity resources available to her during her employment. But she returned for a second term of teaching. Then she writes of her growing dissatisfaction with the ease that some students found it easy to lie. She became increasingly uncomfortable with the student defensiveness that allowed a student to claim that he had cloned a rabbit while still in the 8th grade Suki Kim wrote a valuable memoir. It is a psychological study in the ways to enforce compliance with absurd conditions in a surreal environment. She had to accept a lot, she had to conform, but she had the luxury of a time limit. She could call a time-out. She could escape. She could, and did, report her experiences to the world that, in my case, held an incredulous audience.

This book gives a fascinating bit of insight, although the view is very narrow, into the lives of People in North Korea. I acknowledge the criticisms given in the review from "laughingbull," -- the beginning of the book is very autobiographical, she doesn't explain why they're learning English, and her perspective is limited. These are correct, but since this book is up-front about essentially being the author's memoir of her time in North Korea, this should be expected. To address each of those points: 1) Autobiographical - It's a memoir, so references to her background are not only expected, but helpful in explaining her interactions. Her Korean-American background is something that made her more accessible to her students. I do agree, though, that the frequent references to her "lover" got a bit tedious and unnecessary. 2) Doesn't answer questions - First, I think one point of the whole book is that neither the author, her North Korean students, nor the other teachers are given explanations for the regime's or the school's actions. For the most part, I think Kim does a good job of providing her observations with some background to help lead the reader to form their own ideas of why the regime does certain things. "Laughingbull" also mentioned that she did not explain the regime's hypocrisy in simultaneously condemning all things American while teaching its most elite students English. Again, a continuing theme throughout the book is that the regime often contradicts itself - I did not feel this point needed to be explained. They have a practical need for their elite to learn English -- knowing your enemy -- that I think is something that they can easily explain in their propaganda. It makes perfect sense that they would like their scientists to understand English. I'm sure the recent Sony hackers had a pretty good working knowledge of English.... 3) Narrow view - Again, no kidding. This is a memoir, not a research book. The author is very up-front about the fact that she gained a very limited, but rare, exposure. However, a major difference in the perspective that she describes in this book, compared to other books about life in NK, is the type of people that she was exposed to. Other books I've read are mostly accounts of defectors, who were generally from more impoverished backgrounds. Kim's students give a insight to the lives of the "privileged" class. Bottom line though: very interesting and well-written, I had a hard time putting the book down once I got started. I also recommend the book "Nothing to Envy" for an account of the lives of "ordinary" North Korean citizens.

Suki Kim's memoir is easy to read and for readers who have a personal interest in all things North Korean. Yet even those who are only beginning to study North Korea will feel Kim's emotions and thoughts vividly when she describes many moments of agonizing helplessness, frustration and isolation under the ever-present watchfulness of government minders, and her obligatory, self-imposed adaptation of a lifestyle devoid of the freedoms she enjoyed both as a child in South Korea and as an immigrant in the United States. On one hand, I found myself completely relating to how Kim felt about what she described as a corrupt system which required bribery to officials at every level, constant lying and dishonesty by the regime propaganda but also by the students themselves, even as she came to genuinely love them, and the scarcity of goods. I appreciated her affection for the students, whom she described as the elite of the elite - sons of high-ranked Party officials who were being groomed to learn English for future leadership positions. It was easy to sympathize with her deep desire to tell those boys - teenagers who were essentially sheltered children without any ideas of what existed outside their countries - about the world. I enjoyed how she was able to ask subtle yet pointed questions that cut through some of the students' illogical and scripted (indubitably, from minders, whom she named "counterparts"); truly, this is the degree of how lost, behind, and isolated the North Korean population is. And, her own personal recollections of childhood in South Korea, her vicarious living of her mother's and grandmother's unhealed grief from their youth during the Korean War, etc., did strike a chord with me. On the other, I cannot help but question the ethics of her publishing a memoir which could have, at least theoretically, placed some of the people with whom she interacted at risk. North Korea's leadership is extremely sensitive to outside criticism and it has no mercy on traitors, whether perceived or real. Jang Song-Taek, once one of the highest-ranking senior officials of its government, was brutally killed on orders of Kim Jong-Un (his own nephew). Kim Jong-Un, who is the current leader, has had several high-level officials, many who served under his father, to death. If this government is willing to kill many members of its nomenklatura, why would it spare a few young boys who had perhaps been "contaminated" by a westerner or who had perhaps said too much about the reality of that country? On her website, Kim states, "Not only did I change their names, I blurred their identities, even though it got in the way of portraying them as unique, and uniquely lovable, individuals. Because of this, I am confident that they cannot be individually identified." She may be confident, but this is ultimately only her own speculation. The pragmatist in me wants to believe that the regime cannot afford to offend families who are elite Party members by executing or imprisoning their sons, but this is a ruthless government. Kim may have potentially endangered not only some of the boys who established a bond with her (not only because they sensed she cared about them but also because she was a fellow Korean), but also some of the Christian staff at PUST. North Korea is notorious for its persecution of Christians. International organizations tracking persecution of Christians often rank this country as one of the worst, if not the worst, persecutors. If North Korea leaves PUST's staff alone, it is only because it will calculate it stands more to gain by preserving it and by not frightening future teachers from coming by leaving current teachers alone. I did at times take issue with what I interpreted Kim's disrespectful and disdainful view of the Christians who worked alongside her, but this has to be viewed in the context that Kim herself is not a Christian and her understanding of Christianity - at least that which was shown by those working with her - would be incomplete at best and extremely flawed at worst. But even as a Christian, I too wonder how much wisdom there is in Korean-American and South Korean Christians donating so much money to build a university in North Korea given North Korea's system is notorious for diverting external humanitarian assistance for its own gain. Whether it is food aid or other supplies, the leadership takes at least some. And given that Kim Jong-Il only accepted to meet the South Korean president in 2000 after South Korea paid him $500,000,000, why would anyone be surprised that a % of the money sent to build PUST went to the coffers of the Korean Workers' Party? I do not regret reading this book, but I hope nothing has happened or ever happens that would ever make Kim regret writing it.

This is an excellent and unique perspective on North Korea. The author, Kim, is an American woman of Korean descent who, despite being non-religious, joins a Christian-run university on the outskirts of Pyongyang -- the only foreign-run university in North Korea, and works as a teacher of English there. I appreciate that this book does not delve too deeply into well-known facts about North Korea, but rather provides fresh new insights into an admittedly narrow slice of the population : the sons of the elite. Kim maintains a level head, neither glamorizing nor belittling her charges, but portraying them as the complex individuals they are. The reader begins to feel the same affection and concern for the students as Kim did. Her experience is also enriched by being a woman of Korean descent, who speaks Korean fluently. This is incredibly rare among novels about North Korea written in English (except those written by defectors, which then suffer from translation issues as they are nearly always written in Korean first). As a genuine native speaker of both Korean and English, Kim's novel is both an enjoyable read and also provides important cultural context, clearly delineating between DPRK-specific curiosities and things which are simply part of Korean culture (such as respect for teachers). I appreciated her explanation of how the Korean language is spoken differently in the North, and it is obvious that speaking fluent Korean made her insights much richer -- there are no "The sign was written in bright red letters" or "The old woman appeared to be asking a question" instances in this book because Kim understands exactly what is written on the signs and what people are saying to her, even if her university requires she only speak English. A point where she does communicate with her students in Korean is particularly poignant as a result. Her status as an ethnic Korean is also helpful to her, in that she is invited to certain events which other non-Korean teachers (even those fluent in Korean) are not. It also seems her students opened up much more to her due to feeling more comfortable with a "fellow Korean", though when political tensions necessitate anti-US vitriol, the students did seem to view her as "American" as well. I would detract 1 star for two issues with the novel: first, the time spent pining for her "lover" back in New York, who frankly sounds like a not very caring or sensitive fellow, but more of a friend with benefits. Kim defends his decision on her website, arguing that she wanted to "humanize" herself by showing her need for relationships and contact with the outside, but if that is the case, it seems almost any other contact -- a genuine significant other, a college friend, a sister or cousin -- would have been more impactful. I just found myself feeling sorry for her that she was pining for a guy who seems disinterested in her. The second and perhaps larger issue is her running theme of equating Christians with adherents to the DPRK regime. I understand where she is coming from. I am not a religious person. The parallels are clearly there. But it struck me as a bit hyperbolic. She is also openly antagonistic to one of the "true" Christian teachers at one point. Perhaps it was a result of the stress of being in a tense living situation for too long. But by belittling Christians, the author runs the risk of alienating many of her potential readers (namely, Korean-Americans and Americans in general). It seems it would have been sufficient to state that she was not a religious person.

This book has raised a lot of controversy, not just for the content of the book, but for the way the information was obtained. But I don't think Kim wrote it to expose the negative aspects North Korea, nor the identities and true intent of the teachers working at the university. I feel like she wrote it as way to connect herself to the broken history of Korea. As a Korean myself, this was a fascinating read because I identified with many parts of the book. I particularly enjoyed reading about her exploration of her familial roots, as that got me interested a little more in the history of my roots. South Koreans are progressively becoming further removed from the painful past of the war that broke their nation, but many still long for reunification. Many families have the kind of bitter and fragmented history that Kim's family had. My own grandparents were originally born in what is now North Korea. My paternal grandfather fled with only one other relative, and never got to see the rest of his family again. My parents grew up with aunts and uncles and cousins they never got to meet because they were stuck behind an uncrossable border. For Suki Kim, this was the opportunity to reconnect with her past--a rare opportunity that is not available to regular Koreans, but who so long for one. Though I myself have never had the desire to actually enter North Korea, I am curious about this enigmatic country that also happens to be the origin of my ancestry. The reader gets to see what life was like for Kim as an outsider in North Korea, but particularly as an outsider of Korean heritage. And the reader gets to see that outsider's perspective of what life is like for male university students in North Korea. One cannot help but be intrigued by the vast differences in culture, beliefs and lifestyle. The two Koreas are essentially countries that have been shattered and divided by political ideals. These ideals have produced two cultures and two peoples who are, at the core, still Koreans. One also cannot help but be astonished by the sheer power and control wielded by the government, and how it can manipulate an entire nation to do, say and believe what it wants. There are many books about North Korea, and many books written by those who have ventured into the country. But this narrative possesses something the others lack--the perspective of an author of Korean background and ancestry. I hope other readers will be able to see the pain, anguish, longing and love Suki Kim has delivered in her words, for two nations that have been separated and traumatized by war.

I am absolutely obsessed with books about NK and defectors so this book was up my alley. Not only was this book very well written but it also gave a very descriptive account of what would be considered a rare and unique opportunity to talk with actual North Koreans... and what is mot amazing... young men meant to be powerful chess pieces in this game in the future having been the sons of the elite. I could feel the struggle of the author to understand these men that at times showed a glimpse of individuality just to go back to the brain-washing they had experienced their whole life a second later. What interested me the most was that by reading this book you would think she was teaching middle schoolers based on the way the students acted yet these were university students, already adults. The way the system started to weight on everyone including the author was palpable and it showed why it is not easy to break free from the system as it is common with cults. As an atheist myself I very much admired the comparison the author made of North Koreans with Christians doing the very same worshiping but doing so with a different God/name. I absolutely loved this book and hope the NK people can break free very soon.

This memoir is a very fascinating read. Suki Kim’s experience opens the reader up to a world that is largely unknown and wondered about. While some would argue that her methods of research are flawed because she is posing as a Christian to be granted access to teach in North Korea, it is in no way detrimental to the story. Her lust to visit North Korea is rooted in something like a deep faith- her yearning to learn more about her family and what those who were separated from their South Korean families have been through. The closeness she feels for the hurt caused by the war is enough to drive her to visit one of the most hostile places on Earth and risk her life to find out as much as she can. Kim also makes up for this façade with the genuine care and compassion she has for her students and furthering their learning. She does play with fire at times in what she tells them about the outside world, but it is incredible to see how loyal they are to the Great Leader. The title of the book lends a small insight into their loyalty, as it is from a song they sing at the school. Kim compares the boys’ love of the Great Leader to the love that Christians share for Jesus. Her experiences outside the school are amazing as well. It is hard to grapple with the idea that there are places in the world that still treat humans with so much disregard and inflict such suffering. North Korea enjoys putting of a “perfect” front and strongly believes in the success of their dictatorship, and in this book, Suki Kim does a wonderful job of explaining how this is only true for some. Soldiers and Slaves –this is the distinction made between the only two types of people she observes in North Korea and how the words come so quickly to mind. This book is worth the read if you are at all interested in North Korean life, and while it does get personal at times and the author is not genuine with the Christians she is working with, it is a valuable first hand account of a country we know little about.

If you are looking for gory behind the scenes documentation of North Korea’s dictatorship, this is not the book for you. However, if you truly enjoy good literature, you should definitely give this book a read. It not only shows the beautiful relationships that can be forged between the most unlikely groups of people, but also shows the daily internal struggles that Suki Kim went through just to be able to bring this story out. There’s poetry even in the way she narrates some of the most heart wrenching anecdotes. I’d suggest this not only to those who want to know more about this forbidden nation, but also to those who want to read about how beautiful relationships are formed in the most unlikely of places.

Achei bem interessante o livro, dá uma visão nova sobre o macabro dia a dia dentro do regime. Eu achei que algumas passadas a autora fez algumas deduções desnecessárias sobre os acontecimentos que passou, tentando sempre alfinetar/criticar. Recomendo para todos

I really liked this book, an interesting gateway into life of the North Korean "elite". Very recommendable, an easy read

This was a very interesting read.

Interesante libro para quien tenga curiosidad de cómo es Corea del Norte y cómo También incluso a la élite estudiantil tienen también restricciones.