"Free Food for Millionaires" - Min Jin Lee

"‹This was the first book about Koreans that I’ve read in years – my first one (and only one before this) was “The Kite Fighters” by Linda Sue Park. “Free Food for Millionaires,” in contrast, dealt with much more mature themes, and had an intriguing focus on Korean-Americans. As a warning to those who intend to read it: The main character is initially almost insufferable; you really have to bear with the author in the first couple chapters. You have to give the author the benefit of the doubt on your first couple chapters, I think. You need patience in reading a book. It soon becomes clear why the character was being portrayed the way they were.

The point of view that Lee took in this book was very interesting; I don’t know if it would work for all books, but it definitely worked for this one. Not quite third-person omniscient: It was more like third-person subjective, but jumping around various people’s POVs. With the very vast character set, with everyone from different backgrounds, it was an incredible approach to explore the incredible variety of personalities and beliefs within the Korean-American community. It worked very hard to be nuanced: It really allowed you to understand some of the reasoning or rationale behind various difficult topics, such as the domestic violence that composes the opening scenes of the book (of course, not saying they were condoned—they were just explored in a nuanced way).

Now, for my personal reaction: As a Korean-American myself, I couldn’t help but continuously draw parallels—and “orthogonals”—both between the situation then (1970s?) and now, as well as between myself and the various characters. For the sake of time, I’ll just address the differences and similarities in the eras, and the differences and similarities between me and two characters: the main character and the character I found most intriguing.

SITUATION

PARALLELS: Many of the relationships between the Whites and the Koreans in this book still apply. The relationship between what’s commonly called a “model minority” and the majority. A relationship of tension, not quite as pronounced as some other racial tensions, but existent and sometimes painful, nonetheless.

CONTRASTS: There are powerful class divisions among the Koreans in this book, between those who were the yangbans (old gentry, nobility) in Korea and those who were common. Though my knowledge is limited, I feel like there’s a lot less of that today. There are still economic divisions, of course, but not really based on the frankly outdated ideas of nobility.

CASEY HAN

PARALLELS: I also often struggle with my relationship with my parents and giving them the respect that is due to them. I know within my mind that considering everything they’ve sacrificed for me (not just the basics of being a parent, like birthing me or raising me, but doing so, so much beyond that), they deserve my respect and love, but it’s so much easier to do things in your head than to do them with your body.

CONTRASTS: I really could not relate at all with her extraordinary lack of purpose. She has only notions of wanting to live the high life; she has no feelings of having some kind of “higher purpose.” I feel like in order to have a meaningful, fulfilling life, we need some kind of purpose greater than ourselves to latch onto. By the end of the book, she has some clarity on what she doesn’t want to do, but still seems as unsure about what she does want as ever.

TED KIM

PARALLELS: He’s a boy from an Alaska fishery who’s clawed his way up the socioeconomic ladder ruthlessly and desperately. He’s a man of action, a man of power. A talented analyst, he earns millions of dollars a year, and with his money, he has bought his parents and siblings houses and is paying for his nephews’ educations. Now, I’m not saying that I’m like Ted. However, I want to be where he is. I’m coming from a low socioeconomic situation, and I want to rise above my beginnings. I’m hungry. I eventually want to be in a position where I can provide for my entire family. I want to be the son who goes back home, the talk of the town—the successful son, the son who made his family’s sacrifices worth it.

"‹CONTRASTS: He’s also a jerk who cheats on his implausibly perfect wife. He is high-key anal and suffers from a sense of fragile masculinity. Furthermore, he’s selfish. I don’t want to be selfish. I don’t only want myself to be the success of my family, but also of everyone who was in my situation. I want my success to be a beacon for everyone poor, and I want to spend my adult time and money towards social uplift. Call me an idealist, but I wear the label with pride. I’m a dreamer.