Please Look After Mom

“Most things in the world are not unexpected if one thinks carefully about them.”

Chi-hon affirms this concept when thinking about her reading at the Braille library. She contends that people believe in fate or the unexpected too easily. If people would look at cause and effect, action and reaction, and trace one moment to what it connects to in the past, people would realize that there’s a causal explanation for most moments.

“When you learned to write your name and mom’s name and read books hesitantly before enrolling in school, your mom’s face bloomed like a mint flower. That face overlapped with the Braille you couldn’t read.” 

Chi-hon took an abrupt trip to her hometown to visit her mother. When thinking about why she chose to visit, she realizes that looking at the Braille on the pages of her translated book reminded her of learning to read and how happy her progress made her mother—only later does Chi-hon realize that her mother couldn’t read.

“Mom walked this path by herself? You couldn’t really say you knew Mom. It was a dark path for anyone to walk alone.”

This description of a village path near the family’s house in Chongup alludes to So-nyo’s life struggles. So-nyo suffered in silence and faced countless traumas along her life’s journey, suggesting that her life was indeed a dark, lonely path.

“The most important thing was eating and surviving.” 

When Chi-hon asks So-nyo whether So-nyo enjoyed cooking for a large family, So-nyo responds that feeding her children is fundamental to survival—she does not see this task in terms of individual preference. Food was scarce, and there were times the family didn’t know how or what they’d eat, so eating and surviving were more important than anything else. So-nyo delighted in seeing her children eat and grow.

“When she was younger, Mom was a presence that got him to continue building his resolve as a man, as a human being.” 

Hyong-chol feels guilty about his mother’s disappearance because they had once made a pact to be there for one another. So-nyo reminded him to grow strong, to look after his siblings, and to be successful so that So-nyo wouldn’t have to worry. He forgot about his end of the bargain along the way.

“From then on, his sister slept with her hands in her pockets. And any time he raised his voice, she’d quickly stuff them there. After Mom went missing, when someone pointed something out, even something trivial, his stubborn sister would admit, subdued, ‘I was wrong, I shouldn’t have done that.’” 

When their mother disappears, the siblings argue about almost everything. Chi-hon reverts to childhood mannerisms by pouting and sticking her hands in her pockets. This suggests that she’s trying to be the person her mother wanted her to be.

“Mom’s disappearance was triggering events in his memory, moments, like the maple-leaf doors, he thought he’d forgotten about.”

Much of the novel contains flashbacks and memories from family members that flesh out who So-nyo was and how her family treated her when she was alive. Her disappearance causes memories to suddenly appear for each family member.

“After Mom went missing, I realized that there’s an answer to everything.” 

Chi-hon regrets that she was always rude to her mother, ignoring calls or saying she’d answer questions later. Now, Chi-hon understands that she should have been kinder.

“He had never seen Mom plant something to look at, not to harvest and eat, like beans or potatoes or seedlings of cabbage or radishes or peppers.” 

Hyong-chol marvels at his mother planting red roses in his yard. Hyong-chol, like the rest of the family, never really understood So-nyo. They accepted her role as a provider and as a workhorse and never considered her humanity.

“Last New Year’s Eve, I wrote down what I wanted to do with my life, other than writing. Just for fun. The things I wanted to do in the next ten years. But I didn’t plan on doing anything with Mom. I didn’t realize that when I was writing it.” 

Chi-hon writes down New Year’s resolutions to become a better person. Ironically, she’s never even considered being a better person toward her mother by including So-nyo in her life.

“He never became a prosecutor. Mom always called it his dream, but he hadn’t understood that it had been Mom’s dream, too.” 

Hyong-chol laments never following through on his promise to his mother that he’d become a lawyer and make something great of himself. He wanted his mother to have an easy life. But Hyong-chol forgot about his mother and his promise—when she disappeared, it became too late.

“Habit can be a frightening thing.”

So-nyo’s husband admits that he was in the habit of ignoring his wife. Moreover, he’d speak politely to everyone else but then get angry and annoyed at So-nyo. Since So-nyo’s disappearance, he now wishes that he had been kinder to his ailing wife.

“You grew frightened of your children’s appetites. You wondered what to do with all of them. That was when you decided that you needed to forget about the outside world, that you couldn’t leave this house again.” 

Though much of the narrative depicts So-nyo’s husband as a selfish husband and father, this passage reveals that he finally stopped leaving home randomly and for long stretches of time because he wanted to care for his children

“Why didn’t you know then that you had a peaceful and lucky life?” 

So-nyo’s husband asks this of himself when remembering how good his life was back when So-nyo took care of him. The passage underscores that he never acknowledged how much she eased his existence.

“You left this house whenever you wanted to, and came back at your whim, and you never once thought that your wife would be the one to leave.” 

This quote underscores just how much So-nyo’s husband only thought of his own needs. The passage also reveals male privilege: So-nyo’s husband never even considered his wife doing the things he took for granted.

“The moment when you had to confirm that you’d left your wife in Seoul Station […] you realized that your life had been irreparably damaged.” 

So-nyo’s husband senses her absence before he confirms it by turning around to look for her. This passage highlights his indifference to his wife—a grave mistake that he won’t get the chance to fix.

“Kyun! There was a time when the dead didn’t speak and the ones left behind went crazy like that.” 

So-nyo’s husband admits that people suffered great trauma during and after the Korean War. He recalls that his younger brother Kyun’s death affected So-nyo so much that she may have had a psychic break because she could not to come to terms with the loss.

“You were the child that came into this world, the child that reassured me when I was stuck in sorrow and fear that another dead baby would be born.” 

So-nyo’s youngest daughter was born after a troubling stillbirth. The younger daughter renewed So-nyo’s love of life, and So-nyo placed many of her hopes and dreams on her youngest daughter’s success and happiness.

“Since you were the only child who was free from poverty, all I wanted was for you to be free from everything. And with that freedom, you often showed me another world, so I wanted you to be free forever.” 

The youngest daughter is the only family member to have ever made So-nyo feel alive. Because of this, So-nyo wanted her youngest daughter to remain unburdened in life; this was partly to live vicariously through her youngest daughter but also so that her youngest daughter could experience all that life offered.

“But you won’t be able to find the answer to why this happened to me. That’s why you must be in pain.” 

So-nyo, who is a spirit now, watches her youngest daughter. Her youngest daughter was always the most logical and clear-cut thinker of the family. So-nyo knows that her youngest daughter’s methodical nature would have wanted to help in looking for So-nyo, but the youngest daughter can’t because she’s burdened now with children.

“Life is sometimes amazingly fragile, but some lives are frighteningly strong.” 

So-nyo remembers her friendship with Eun-gyu Lee. When she allowed his child to suckle her breast because Eun-gyu’s wife died, the baby refused to let go. So-nyo reasons that things which people consider fragile or weak can turn out to be strong through determination, desperation, and sheer willpower. So-nyo also seemed fragile but cared for everyone else with fierce determination.

“Do you know what happens to all the things we did together in the past?” 

So-nyo asks about causality and the possible links between the past, present, and future. She’s shocked when Chi-hon suggests that the past exists still in the present, and that the future contains the past and present. This troubles So-nyo because she doesn’t feel a connection to her grandkids, though she does see how other parts of her life link together.

“Even though nobody knew that you were in my life, you were the person that brought a raft at every rapid current and helped me cross that water safely.” 

So-nyo finds it odd and satisfying that no one in her family knows about her close friendship with Eun-gyu. She considers Eun-gyu the lifeboat that kept her afloat during her troubled life.