Picaresque
– it's a word I've always liked, but it's hard to throw into an
everyday conversation. But it's a perfect adjective for Adam
Johnson's The
Orphan Master's Son. Dictionary.com
defines it as “Of or relating to an episodic style of fiction
dealing with the adventures of a rough and dishonest but appealing
hero”. And Johnson's hero Jun Do certainly qualifies. But because
his adventures take place within the confines of the isolated,
secretive, repressive country of North Korea under the regime of Kim
Jung-Il, they are far more sinister and harrowing than those of a
picaresque hero like Don Quixote or Huck Finn.
But
Johnson's story is far more than just a string of tales. In a
country where loudspeakers blare non-stop propaganda into apartments and on the streets,
Jun Do manages to evolve from a cog in the all-consuming machine of state to
an individual with an ethos somewhat warped by his upbringing but not
controlled by the group-think of his leaders. Yet his story is not a
political polemic – Jun Do warmed my heart and broke it. He made
me laugh and cry. Johnson opened my eyes to the incredible hardship
and brutality of life in North Korea, even as he wove a story of
courage, humor, and even romance.
