Pachinko by Min Jin Lee: Book Review

Min Jin Lee’s Pachinko is a masterpiece of historical fiction, weaving together a multigenerational tale that delves into the struggles of ethnic Koreans in Japan. The novel spans nearly a century, tracing the lives of the Baek family as they navigate the complexities of identity, discrimination, and survival. With its richly researched narrative, vivid character development, and emotionally charged storytelling, Pachinko is a profound exploration of resilience and sacrifice.

What is Pachinko by Min Jin Lee about?

Pachinko by Min Jin Lee is a sweeping multigenerational saga that follows a Korean family’s struggles in Japanese society over nearly a century. The novel explores themes of identity, resilience, and belonging, as the family navigates systemic discrimination and personal sacrifices while striving for dignity and survival. At its heart, it is a poignant tale of outsiders fighting to carve out a place in a world that often rejects them.

The Novel: A Monumental Achievement

At its core, Pachinko is a story about outsiders, minorities, and the disenfranchised. The novel opens in the early 20th century in Korea, under Japanese occupation, with Hoonie, a cleft-lipped and club-footed son of a poor family, whose union with Yangjin results in the birth of Sunja. The narrative takes off when Sunja becomes pregnant by Hansu, a married yakuza, and chooses to leave her home with Isak, a kind pastor who offers her a life of respectability in Japan.

“Learn everything. Fill your mind with knowledge—it’s the only kind of power no one can take away from you.” Hansu never told him to study, but rather to learn, and it occurred to Noa that there was a marked difference. Learning was like playing, not labor.”
― Min Jin Lee, Pachinko

Lee’s novel immerses readers in the plight of the Zainichi Koreans, who live as perpetual outsiders in Japanese society. They are denied full citizenship, forced to renew alien registration cards every three years, and relegated to marginalized professions, such as running pachinko parlors. This marginalized existence is captured poignantly through characters like Sunja’s son Noa, who hides his Korean heritage in a bid to assimilate but is haunted by the impossibility of true acceptance.

“Patriotism is just an idea, so is capitalism or communism. But ideas can make men forget their own interests. And the guys in charge will exploit men who believe in ideas too much.”
― Min Jin Lee, Pachinko

The strength of Pachinko lies in its attention to detail and emotional depth. Lee painstakingly reconstructs the lives of Koreans in Japan, from the bustling pachinko parlors to the cramped, shabby neighborhoods of Osaka. The novel’s scope is epic, yet its power resides in the intimate moments: a mother selling kimchi to feed her children, a son unable to reconcile his dual identity, and the quiet resilience of women holding their families together in the face of relentless hardship.

The Adaptation: Ambitious but Flawed

Apple TV’s adaptation of Pachinko is visually stunning and ambitious, but it diverges significantly from the novel in ways that may alienate purist readers. While the show captures the grandeur and historical sweep of the book, it takes liberties with the plot, introducing incidents and characters that never existed in the original text. These changes might appeal to viewers unfamiliar with the novel but risk disappointing those who cherished the nuanced storytelling of Lee’s work.

“Sunja-ya, a woman’s life is endless work and suffering. There is suffering and then more suffering. It’s better to expect it, you know. You’re becoming a woman now, so you should be told this. For a woman, the man you marry will determine the quality of your life completely. A good man is a decent life, and a bad man is a cursed life—but no matter what, always expect suffering, and just keep working hard. No one will take care of a poor woman—just ourselves.”
― Min Jin Lee, Pachinko

The adaptation excels in its portrayal of Sunja, brought to life by two incredible actresses—Minha Kim as young Sunja and Youn Yuh-jung as her older counterpart. Their performances embody the character’s resilience and vulnerability, making her journey a central emotional anchor for the series. The multilingual dialogue, seamlessly transitioning between Korean, Japanese, and English, adds a layer of authenticity to the historical context.

However, the adaptation falters in its pacing and narrative focus. By introducing new storylines and rearranging events, it dilutes some of the novel’s emotional depth. The decision to emphasize certain themes over others—such as a more modern lens on racism and corporate culture—comes at the expense of the book’s intimate exploration of family dynamics and personal sacrifice.

Thematic Richness and Cultural Significance

Both the novel and the show tackle themes of identity, belonging, and the enduring weight of history. Through the lens of the Baek family, Lee examines how systemic oppression shapes lives across generations. The pachinko game itself becomes a powerful metaphor for the randomness of fate and the rigged systems that prevent marginalized groups from truly succeeding.

The story’s exploration of shame, honor, and survival resonates universally, even as it remains deeply rooted in the Korean-Japanese experience. Sunja’s choices, born of necessity, ripple through her descendants, shaping their struggles and aspirations. The narrative underscores the sacrifices made by one generation to pave the way for the next, even when the rewards seem elusive.

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Pachinko is a monumental work of fiction that captures the complexities of immigration, identity, and resilience with unparalleled grace. While the Apple TV adaptation brings the story to a wider audience, its deviations from the source material may feel like a betrayal to fans of the novel. For purist readers, the added incidents and altered focus might come across as a misstep, disrupting the delicate balance of Lee’s original narrative.

Nonetheless, both the book and the series underscore the importance of telling stories about marginalized communities. Pachinko reminds us that history, while often failing its subjects, is also shaped by the quiet strength of individuals who endure and persevere. Whether through the pages of Lee’s novel or the screen adaptation, Pachinko is a story that demands to be heard.