101 pages • 3 hours read
Sungju Lee, Susan Elizabeth McClellandEvery Falling Star: The True Story of How I Survived and Escaped North Korea
Nonfiction | Autobiography / Memoir | YA | Published in 2016A modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more. For select classroom titles, we also provide Teaching Guides with discussion and quiz questions to prompt student engagement.
Themes
Folk Stories and Propaganda Versus Traumatic Reality
Throughout the book Sungju clings to the folk stories, myths, and propaganda about the superiority of Kim Il-sung and the communist party that were drilled into him as a child, even though the reality he sees and experiences is at odds with these stories. Sungju’s continued loyalty to Joseon’s regime, as well as his dream of returning to Pyongyang and one day serving in the military like his father, prove the innocent and the sheltered nature of his early childhood. Much like the nation at large, Sungju believes that all of the legendary, mythic stories about Kim Il-sung are true, even when they are clearly fabricated or exaggerated. For example, he recalls: “Our eternal leader made rice from sand on the shores of the Duman and Amnok rivers to feed his army and turned pinecones into grenades when his armies were weaponless” (6). As readers, we understand that there is no way a man could actually be immortal and that it would be impossible for him to transform pinecones into grenades or sand into rice. But a child could easily be brainwashed by these stories, which helps explain why others in Pyongyang also believe them. Like many North Korean citizens before him, Sungju places his faith in the regime after being brainwashed by its propaganda. Sungju’s experience is meant to represent the experiences of many young people brought up under communist rule in North Korea, and to highlight how easily one can fall under its influence.
However, this loyalty is repeatedly tested when Sungju and his family are sent to Gyeong-seong. The bleak reality that confronts Sungju there is directly at odds with the grand image he had of his country, since people are starving in the streets, work is scarce, parents disappear, and kotjebi must fight one another for turf and a chance at survival. The disconnect between the reality Sungju was taught and the reality he is actually experiencing is overwhelming and disorienting.
By focusing on the difficulty of letting go of the propaganda and stories he learned as a small child, Sungju draws attention to how difficult it is to deprogram oneself from systemic brainwashing. But he also shows how this loss of innocence about the regime’s lies is necessary to have a shot at survival. Sungju and the kotjebi in his orbit must confront the reality of what it takes to stay alive on the streets to have any chance of a future.
Brotherhood and the Power of Chosen Family
Without his brotherhood and fellow gang members, Sungju would not have survived long enough to escape Joseon. The chosen family he amasses with his fellow kotjebi provide him with the strength to survive even after his parents disappear. They take care of one another, much like a family would, amid good and bad fortune, illness, hardship, and death, working together in hope of eventually reuniting with their immediate families.
Sungju remembers his “brothers” as a kind of spiritual kin. When he leaves them behind to escape North Korea, Sungju notes, “In spirit, my brothers and I would always be one” (273). The harrowing experiences they weather together create a uniquely strong bond. It is one of the uplifting parts of the book and a source of inspiration for Sungju as a narrator, despite the many ups and downs he endures. The power of this bond is made apparent by the fates of other kotjebi, criminals, “nightflowers,” and people they meet on the streets who have been separated from their families and endured even worse fates. While the boys do abuse drugs and alcohol and feel the need to fight when it is unnecessary, they keep one another in check.
Brotherhood as a collective idea is made more complex by communist regime ruling Joseon. Though the ruling party claims to have the collective’s best interest in mind, it’s clear to Sungju and those around him that the only people who benefit from its rule are loyal higher-ups in the government. The boys form their own smaller collective to protect themselves and each other from a society that lies to them and refuses to support them. By looking out for one another and prizing brotherhood above all else, Sungju and his friends learn that their small collective is the most powerful tool to overcoming difficult political and personal odds.
This lesson informs Sungju’s work as an adult in his efforts to unite the Korean Peninsula and help North Korean defectors find safe, friendly communities outside of Joseon. By invoking the lessons he learned from his brothers, he continues the work they started together even though they are now apart. Sungju sees all citizens in North and South Korea as “brothers” who have been divided by propaganda and lies. He believes they can overcome this divide by nurturing that spiritual connection.
Wealth Disparity and the “Haves” and “Have Nots” of Joseon
Sungju’s family experiences polar opposite lifestyles in Joseon when they are kicked out of Pyongyang. Despite the regime’s assurances that the communist party will provide for everyone who devotes themselves to its cause, it is clear that this is not the case from the moment Sungju and his parents board the train to Gyeong-seong. Despite the promise of collective well-being made by the communist government, those outside of Pyongyang are often ignored and neglected, left to suffer and struggle during nationwide famine. The communist party still contains a hierarchy, and Sungju reels as he falls from living among the top of Joseon society to the very bottom, as a kotjebi.
The divide between those with power and those without is polarizing, and therefore those at the bottom must often scheme to get ahead. This is exemplified by people who “broker” and sell houses that don’t belong to them, for example. Joseon’s poor and outcast often resort to desperate measures to make ends meet and survive. This initially shocks Sungju, but eventually he too learns to put his values of honesty and loyalty aside as he steals, fights, pickpockets, tricks, and takes advantage of others.
The disparity between the “haves” and “have nots” is often illustrated for readers by the way an individual is described, such as if they are depicted as healthy, well-fed, and wearing clean clothes. These details later become signals that help Sungju identify who he can rip off or steal from. He also goes from being relatively clean to a dirty, unbathed street boy, and as he grows more comfortable with being dirty, he also grows more accustomed to living and surviving alongside his gang.
Sungju’s ability to be “dirty” is also a sign of how much he’s endured and how much innocence he’s lost when he is reunited with his grandparents. They see how his circumstances have affected his health and well-being, and they feel sorry for him and regret the trauma he’s had to overcome since they last saw him as a small child. During his stay at their house, he’s able to wash up regularly, put on weight, and become healthy once more. In many ways, his grandparents’ home is as close to a safe and happy middle ground as he can find in Joseon, outside the grandeur of Pyongyang and a tough life of living and begging on the streets.
Hope and Disillusionment in Institutions
As discussed earlier when considering propaganda, Sungju begins his narrative fervently believing in the institution of communism, specifically the “eternal leader” Kim Il-sung and his administration. His family is supported, and in many ways protected, by his father’s proximity to the party’s leaders. But when they are forced out of Pyongyang, Sungju is forced to question the unflagging loyalty he was taught to have in the regime, and he begins thinking critically about the stories, “facts,” and beliefs that were instilled in him as a little boy.
One of the reasons Sungju feels such strong loyalty is because he thinks his parents also believe all the stories they have told him about Kim Il-sung. Sungju doesn’t question these stories until Young-bum and Chulho highlight the cracks in them, given the widespread poverty and famine throughout the nation. As the book progresses, it is revealed that the adults in Sungju’s life were never as faithful or loyal to the government as Sungju believed—like Sungju and his kotjebi gang, they were doing and saying whatever they needed to stay safe and survive for as long as they could.
This disillusionment, in addition to the trauma and grief Sungju suffers later in his childhood and adolescence, fuels Sungju’s distain for authority and stokes his anger. His deepest regret is that the government’s lies deprive him of the one source of comfort he has—hope. He writes, “I think the worst thing anyone can do is make them stop believing in something higher, something good, something pure, a reason for everything—hope, maybe” (216). Without hope in larger institutions, Sungju must confront the brutal reality of his situation, especially as a young, abandoned child without any resources.
This exploration of the idea of disillusionment helps readers understand why Sungju chooses to study international relations and help other North Korean defectors. Unable to find support from North Korea (and South Korea, to an extent) during his own journey, he vows to make the journeys of other defectors easier and filled with hope.
