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336 pages, Paperback
First published September 13, 2016
North Korea is indeed a Hermit Kingdon: a true-to-life dystopian nation.
It's against this backdrop that my story takes place.
"Morality is a great song a person sings when he or she has never been hungry."
"I think, when we stop dreaming, we're just as good as dead."
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"Death was all around us. We’d enter the market in the mornings to find women wailing and rocking in their arms children who had died during the night. As we plunged deep into the merchants’ stalls, we found the corpses of old men and women, mouths still agape as if, in their final moments, they wanted to say something, their eyes staring out, pleading with us to hear them. I always thought the place after death was peaceful. It was how my eomeoni had described it. But what I saw on the faces of the dead was anything but. It was as if they had got stuck looking at and feeling all their grief and pain..."
“If [spoiler] were still alive, he might say, Don’t judge a man until you’ve walked in his boots.”
“You see, my father was in the military. He and his story are known by the regime. Disclosing the reason would identify him and put the few relatives of my family still in North Korea at risk. I will say that if he had done what he did in a free country, such as as the United States, his actions would be viewed as merely part of the democratic process. But in Pyongyang, they resulted in my family’s explosion from the capital city and eventual separation.”