Pearl S Buck: Living Reed – A Novel of Korea
Moyer Bell, 1990
Originally published by Methuen, 1963
Pearl Buck spent most of her childhood and early adulthood in China in an American missionary family and, mixing with local children, grew up with an unrivaled understanding of the country. Her experiences were distilled into an unexpectedly bestselling trilogy of novels starting with The Good Earth, which contributed to her winning the Nobel Prize for literature, at a time when the West had little understanding of the East.
Living Reed is the only of her so-called Oriental Novels which is set in Korea. Written in 1963, the novel spans the turbulent period in Korea’s history from 1881 to 1945, seen through a fictitious yangban family from the Andong Kim clan.
Buck’s writing style is immediately comforting, enveloping you in warmth. The language is intentionally epic, giving a heightened sense of significance to the events you are reading about. Think Lord of the Rings, or similar novel with a slightly archaic style. “The year was 4214 after Tangun of Korea, and 1881 after Jesus of Judea,” the novel opens, immediately establishing a foundation of seriousness. Sometimes the language can verge on the faintly ridiculous (“It was autumn again, the season of high skies and fat horses”), but in general you are totally immersed. [Edit: I discover that I’ve done Ms Buck a disservice on the fat horses front. See comment section below]
The first half of the novel, covering the period 1881 -1895, is the most successful. Because it covers the period before Western modernity violently took over Korea, a time of old-fashioned courtesy and respect, when a yangban could call on a beautiful Queen for an audience, it is this part of the book which most suits Buck’s writing style. Later sections, which cover 1910-1919, 1919-1945 and then 1945 itself, feel rushed. These sections are understandably darker in tone than the first, but one feels that Buck herself has less interest in this period. It’s almost if she’s rushing to meet a publisher’s deadline. In fact, Buck’s publisher was her second husband, and his company was pretty much kept afloat by the flood of fiction coming from her pen. It’s almost as if she had committed to a novel covering 1881-1945, to be delivered in 12 months time, and then lavished 10 months of love and attention on the first section leaving her only 2 months to wrap up the rest of the story. Another sign of the rush to completion is that endows one of the grandsons with a messianic wisdom almost from birth. It’s as if he has been marked out to be the hero of a follow-up book which Buck never got around to writing. But having filled him with so much vision, foresight and even telepathy, she does not give this character a part to play which is commensurate with his superhuman abilities.
Buck’s Kim family was certainly well connected, and had a role to play at every part of Korea’s recent history. Great-grandfather Kim was a confidant of King Kojong, Grandfather Kim – the central character in the book – a trusted adviser of the beautiful Queen Min, attracting the jealousy of his own long-suffering and even more beautiful wife (the intrusion of Buck’s money-spinning genre, romantic fiction, provides some welcome spice to the narrative). One of the sons becomes a Donghak rebel and then a leader in the nationalist resistance movement in China, while another dies in the March 1st troubles in 1919. One son even has Syngman Rhee as best man at his wedding. So intertwined are the family’s fortunes with Korea’s modern history that at one point in the narrative we are tempted to suspect that one of the grandsons, born in the Russian wastes north of the peninsula and having sympathies with the communists, will later emerge as the rebranded Great Leader Kim Il-sung. Tactfully, given her intended audience Buck does not go that far: it would after all be damaging to circulation to give a sympathetic family background to a communist foe in a novel aimed at conservative middle America in the 1960s.
Particularly the first half of this novel is a guilty pleasure. While the later sections of the novel are not as enjoyable as the first, this reflects the trajectory of Korea’s history. In fact one thing which shines through is Buck’s embarrassment, as an American, that America failed to live up to Korea’s hopes, whether in acting to protect Korea’s independence set out in the US-Korea friendship treat of 1883, or in applying the principle of self-determination to Korea’s situation (yes, the central character even managed to meet Woodrow Wilson in Paris to petition him personally), or in failing to listen to Korean wishes in 1945.
There may be little matters where historical detail may not be completely accurate (would a yangban have been using a paper napkin in 1885?) but in general the novel deals well with the overall historical themes – the choices facing Korea as it came to the end of the 19th Century, the role of the Christian churches in the early 20th Century, and much more besides. And overall this is a thoroughly enjoyable yarn which has justly won many admirers.