46 pages • 1 hour read
Theresa Hak Kyung ChaA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
There is a map of Korea divided into North and South Korea with text describing the narrator watching a film in a theater where another woman is seated. The narrator wishes to become deeply engrossed in the film, sitting as close to the front of the theater as possible “to eliminate presences of others […] [in] the absolute darkness the shadows fade” (79). The narrative shifts to a letter from the narrator to her mother, dated April 19 without the year, except to mention that 18 years have passed. The narrator describes the bombs that fell when the Korean War began on June 25, 1950, and says that it is not like that today: There are no bombs falling, no “woman with child lifting sand bag barriers, all during the night for the battles to come” (80). Her mother waited 36 years in exile before she was able to return to Korea after World War II when Japan was defeated. However, the narrator writes that when she herself returns to Korea years later, the war is not over, it simply has a different name: civil war.
The narrator describes a day in 1962 when she was 11 years old, 18 years before when her mother pleaded with her brother not to go to a student protest. The narrator describes the rain falling for years after the protest where so many people were killed. She has returned 18 years after, but feels completely distanced from her country and fellow people, noting that she even speaks another language. As she walks through the town in South Korea, she sees soldiers in green uniforms, and she notes that the green color provides them with camouflage. She thinks of a soldier hiding in the trees, with skin “scorched dark as [his] uniform” (86). The chapter ends with a lyrical, almost overflowing passage of writing that includes repetition of the phrase “Suffice Melpomene,” the Greek muse of tragedy, and imagines how it would be possible for the country to become whole again, and for its individuals to do so as well, even after such tragedies.
The chapter begins with an uncaptioned photo of a woman dressed in armor holding a sword by her side. Then there is a description of a woman entering a theater to watch a film, continuing the thread from the previous chapter: She notes that the same woman is in the theater as the day before. A description of the movements of a camera as she enters the theater and sits down in the theater follows. The same sequence of events repeats, but the motions of the camera narrates the story as a film. The film is called “The portrait of...” a woman who remains unnamed. The film shows the woman’s home, but never the woman herself. The pages that follow tell two stories: On the left hand side, there is the story of an unhappy marriage that the narrator watches play out on the screen, and on the right hand side there are quotes from St. Therese of Lisieux, a French nun from the late-19th century. An invitation to St. Therese’s symbolic wedding to Jesus is on the right hand side, while a description of the marriage between an unnamed man and woman is on the left. The marriage is painful for the woman, with a husband who is unfaithful and abusive to her. The passage describes the man yelling at the woman while the woman takes care of him on the night of her father’s wake.
On the right hand side, there is a quote from St. Therese’s journal, which states that women “love God in much larger numbers than men do” (105). The narrative returns to the woman in the theater as she observes the relationship between the married couple. As the woman plays the piano with sadness, the narrator enters the scene and sings alongside the woman as she plays. On the right hand side, there is a quote from St. Therese discussing her deep religious faith and love for Jesus. The description of the unhappy marriage continues on the left hand side, with the narrator wondering if there was love between the husband and wife. The husband’s abuse of the wife includes sexual assault, and on the right hand side fragmented statements such as “She tries to forget” (113) accompany the narrative. A quote from St. Therese extols the value of pure love above all else. The narrator describes a misty scene where she follows a woman, but loses her. St. Therese discusses her wish to be a martyr and her admiration for Joan of Arc. The chapter ends with a poetic passage describing snow falling and mist, with an uncaptioned still image of a woman from a film with an expression of sublime ecstasy.
In “Melpomene Tragedy” and “Erato Love Poetry,” Cha adopts voices from a variety of perspectives, weaving them into a collage that portrays the experience of colonized and oppressed people throughout several centuries. Cha’s mother’s experiences during the mid-20th century and the Korean War, and Cha’s own experiences of displacement, exile, and separation from her home in the late-20th century when her family immigrated to the United States, are fused together into a fraught family history. Cha also presents the story of St. Therese of Lisieux, a late 19th-century French nun who died at the age of 24. Cha mixes St. Therese’s sainthood with images of Joan of Arc and scenes of a woman watching the film Gertrud, a 1964 Danish film directed by Carl Dreyer.
While all these narratives are interwoven, Cha also presents an unnamed woman who watches the narratives: She is depicted in a theater where she is nearly alone, but not quite, as there is another woman seated in the theater whom is never described. The anti-heroine that Cha portrays is close to herself, though this is never made explicit, and she takes on the position of a disembodied viewer.
The letter to her mother follows directly after the first of these film scenes, showing how Cha is creating a new form in which the visual and the linguistic are put into conversation with each other. “Melpomene” uses an epistolary format, primarily composed of a letter Cha has written to her mother. The date for the letter, April 19, is a significant date in Korean history: April 19 refers to the April Revolution of 1960, when mass protests occurred after a student was found dead, killed by police during protests against an undemocratic election of Syngman Rhee, the first president of South Korea.
In the letter, Cha describes a feeling of helplessness that characterized both her mother’s experiences and her own as a refugee. Cha’s style and tone shifts frequently throughout the letter. In some portions, Cha uses straightforward diction and linear storytelling, specifically the section describing the day when her brother attempted to join a protest and her mother did not want him to join: “You are threatening him, you are begging him. He has on his school uniform […] You are pulling at him you stand before the door. He argues with you he pushes you away” (83). Cha presents the scene as a realistic memory of an autobiographical event.
In other sections, Cha uses more abstract and lyrical descriptions of the events. In another portion of the letter, Cha describes herself pulled along in a demonstration; she hears voices and sees the tears and blood of those protesting around her and tells her mother that these sounds and voices would be familiar to her as well, as she experienced this years ealier during the protest for independence from Japanese occupation: “Dead air stagnant water still exhales mist. Pure hazard igniting flame itself with the slightest of friction like firefly” (87). This language emphasizes a sense of timelessness, as the letter’s contents refer to specific historical events, but the experience of exile, displacement, and loss is universal and could have taken place in any year. Cha’s uses the specificity of her experiences as a Korean American woman to tap into the universal experiences of oppressed and dispossessed people throughout history.
In “Erato Love Poetry,” Cha once again ironizes the title of the chapter by subverting reader expectations: Instead of telling a love story, she tells the story of a loveless marriage and of a nun whose love is focused on God. Cha is exploring love in its multi-faceted dimensions. In addition, this chapter explores non-Korean experiences, interjecting the stories of women who are seemingly disconnected from the historical parts of the book thus far. Cha shows how martyrdom, colonialism, religion, and the silenced experiences of women are present in other cultures and historical periods.
The format of the “Erato Love Poetry” chapter is one of the more experimental sections of the book: Rather than having the text read left to right in the page order, the text scrolls down with the lefthand side devoted to the description of the narrator watching the movie Gertrud, and the righthand side is focused on the words of St. Therese of Lisieux. The quotes from St. Therese are from her book, The Story of a Soul, that she began writing when she fell ill in her convent. She passed away at the age of 24. Despite the apparent dissimilarities between these two representations of women’s lives, Cha’s choice of juxtaposing the text draws attention to the similarities between the experiences, which is the shared sense of loneliness and alienation. Both pursuits of love are depicted as requiring great sacrifice and suffering. In this way, Cha connects the concept of love with that of martyrdom, specifically the martyrdom of women.
St. Therese’s martyrdom is juxtaposed with the martyrdom of the marriage portrayed in the film that the speaker watches. The wife’s loneliness touches the viewer, and she feels herself becoming a part of the relationship even though the wife is silent: “You are she, she speaks you, you speak her, she cannot speak” (106). The observer notes the coldness of the relationship, remarking that the couple does not touch. Cha contrasts this cold marriage with the image of ecstatic joy in the photo at the end of the chapter (119); the image is of Renee Maria Falconetti playing Joan of Arc in Carl Dreyer’s 1928 silent film, The Passion of Joan of Arc. The inclusion of this photo and the photo of St. Therese dressed up as Joan of Arc suggests the performative idea of martyrdom for women throughout history and filmic representations of martyrdom. St. Therese’s own idea of her martyrdom is connected to her dressing up as Joan of Arc and her desire to martyr herself for love. Joan of Arc, as both a nationalist symbol and saint, uniquely suits the concept both of martyring oneself for love and of rebellion against systems of oppression. By showing how Joan of Arc influenced St. Therese and the filmmaker Carl Dreyer, who also directed the film Gertrud, Cha is showing how the martyrdom of women for religious and nationalist purposes is a long-standing tradition.