Bandi

4.3/5

Nunca pensé que leería un libro de alguien que vive en Corea del Norte. De verdad que fue una experiencia a la que tuve acceso gracias a una reseña que vi en internet, no me lo pensé dos veces y decidí leerlo.

"La acusación" cuenta siete historias de personas que viven dentro de Corea del Norte. Las tramas se desarrollan después de la muerte del mandatario más famoso de ese país. Y a lo largo de los cuentos se hace alusión a diferentes normas y reglas que se imprimen ahí y show more que, aunque se ha oído hablar de ellas, en ninguna otra parte son descritas con tanta veracidad y tan al detalle.

Hay muchísimas cosas que quiero decir, la primera es que cada uno de los cuentos aborda una temática familiar que nos toca de una forma u otra. Las relaciones esposo-esposa; hijo-madre; abuelos-nieta; padre-hijos; por solo citar algunas, hacen que se sienta empatía por los personajes, quienes en todo momento vivirán sobrecogidos de miedo.

Algo que estremece al leer la obra es que cada uno de los cuentos queda sin un final en sí. Es decir, se llega a un punto de la acción y todo se detiene. Como que, más allá de eso, no hay esperanzas o una forma de vida diferente. Quedé en shock cuando me di cuenta de ese detalle.

Los siete cuentos no guardan relación entre sí, solo se unen por el hecho de desarrollarse en el mismo país, pero las personas no han de conocerse. La simbología dentro de la obra, aunque sencilla, cala en lo más profundo, en especial aquel Olmo al que se hace alusión (fue el cuento más impactante para mí)

Es una lectura que recomiendo no solo por su valor literario, sino por su contenido histórico, ya que muestra la realidad de uno de los países más cerrados y apartados que existe en el mundo. show less

The only book critical of the North Korean regime written by someone still living under that regime, making this collection of short stories one of the bravest books I have ever read.

These are stories of people with ordinary problems, living under a system with absolutely zero room for humanity — for making allowances for ordinary people with their ordinary problems. Toddlers who cry. Workers who want to visit dying mothers. Someone with a parent, uncle, or grandparent who once did show more something to offend the party.

These feel to me similar to other stories that have come out of Communist dictatorships, and I wonder if Bandi ever had access to any of those. What is remarkable about them to me is him. Someone who was a true believer, a party loyalist, then became disillusioned, not only in his own circumstance, but seeing how the regime crushes all those around him.

I hope for his continued safety. show less

It is often difficult to see the cheering hordes of the DPRK's mass games, or military rallies, as actual bona fide people like you and me.

I travelled to the DPRK last year, and it while it was of course a heavily curated experience, talking to people that lived there (though they watch their tongues, always) really brought home that these people trapped under such a terrible regime are the same as us. And the fact that we do not put more pressure on our governments to better their plight is show more a modern, and on-going, disgrace.

This is a terrible book. Not in the sense that it's poorly written, but in the sense that everything that happens herein is miserable, terrifying, and cruel. But it's brilliantly put together, and will have you tearing through it in a sitting.

Reading gives you a window into other worlds, or so says the cliche. But no book does so in quite the same way as this. show less

I came across this book of short stories by a North Korean writer while browsing in the library. They vividly depict a world of fear, hunger, and repression through a series of deceptively simple vignettes. The writer shows the truth of living in North Korea through details of daily life and the ease with which anyone can incur punishment from the authorities. One story includes a baby who is afraid of Marx’s giant portrait, another a tree symbolising the loss of faith in communism, still show more another a man’s attempt to visit his dying mother. All are sparely, elegantly written and devastatingly clear in their condemnation of the ruling regime. The anonymous author apparently still lives in North Korea, only the manuscript was smuggled out. So this is true samizdat literature, with no attempt at allegory or allusion to get past censors. Perhaps inevitably, it reminded me of what I’ve read about China under Mao. In North Korea, though, several generations have grown up under the same repressive dynasty, living with the classification of whole families as ‘hostile elements’. No hope for political change is apparent in the stories, only for escape to China and ultimately South Korea.

The story ‘Pandemonium’ stood out for me. This concerns a woman caring for her husband and granddaughter, both of whom were seriously injured while trying to take a train journey. It begins with the following striking lines: ‘On the mountain behind the village, a cuckoo crowed, crying out as if it was choking on a clot of blood. So Mrs. Oh wasn’t the only one for whom sleep was proving impossible.’ In this story, as all of them, there is a palpable sense of claustrophobia.

The book ends with a poem by the author to the reader:

Though they be as dry as a desert
As rough as a grassland
Shabby as an invalid
And primitive as stone tools
Reader!
I beg you to read my words.

‘The Accusation’ is a unique and powerful story collection that I picked up on a whim but will not soon forget. The only thing that it lacks is a note from the translator. I’d love to know what challenges translating these stories into English presented. show less