Pachinko as a metaphor

"History has failed us, but no matter." ... opening line in Pachinko.

What I love most about Pachinko (and I love many things about this wonderful novel by Min Jin Lee) is that the characters, for all their faults, have integrity and humanity. Set in Japan and Korea over a span of 80 years (1910 to 1989), four generations of an ethnic Korean family navigate wars, poverty, displacement, and discrimination with determination and kindness. There are heartbreaking moments, to be sure, but every element of this book is there for a reason, to tell a story about resilience even as life knocks you down.

I learned a lot about the everyday lives of Koreans and Japanese during this turbulent time. The conversation with Lee at the end of the book provides context that I found extremely interesting. Korea, of course, was occupied by Japan from 1910 to 1945, during which time many Koreans moved to Japan to escape crushing poverty. After WW II ended, the country was torn apart in the Korean War. The stories about loss of home, followed by mistreatment and discrimination are sadly universal, yet the book is not sad or depressing but full of love and hope. These characters will live with me for a long time.

Pachinko is a pinball-like game where the parlor operators reset the pins and bumpers on a regular basis to make sure that players can win, but that the house always wins more. Sound familiar? After WWII, working in a pachinko parlor was one of the few jobs open to Koreans living in Japan, and as a result, pachinko runs through this family saga. But its link to gambling and gangsters adds to the negative stereotypes that the characters endure. And like the pachinko balls, which cannot be removed from one parlor to be used elsewhere, there is seemingly no way out.