The Island of Sea Women by Lisa See (Scribner, 2019) is the story of questioning fate tied into friendship, war, survival, betrayal, and ultimately forgiveness. Two girls from different backgrounds, Mi-ja and Young-sook, become friends in the 1930s, and their friendship story alternates between their growing-up years and 2008 “modern-day” Young-sook, who is a bitter old woman. The Island of Sea Women refers to the unique woman-centered culture on the Korean island of Jeju. It covers struggles through the war years and years of civil strife, which includes extreme violence as the characters struggle to survive and come to terms with the direction of their lives.
Friendship and Survival
The young friendship between Mi-ja and Young-sook, which is told in first person, is sweet, and I learned a lot about the culture of haenyeo (women sea divers) throughout this time. Mi-ja is an orphan originally from the city, now stuck with an abuse aunt and uncle. She had been the daughter of a hated “Japanese collaborator” and now she is somewhat ostracized in the rural village. Young-sook is the daughter of the chief haenyeo, who leads the women into the ocean to find precious food and delicacies from the ocean ridges around the island. Yet, her family too struggles with near-constant starvation. As Young-sook and Mi-ja grow, they develop a close friendship much as sisters and learn to dive together with the “collective.”
World War II years contribute to further poverty on the poor island, but the friendship between the girls increases as Mi-ja and Young-sook use their diving skills. It is a dangerous job, and the girls must deal with the deaths as they continue their diving “career.” The loss of these people is accepted as a fateful part of life, although there is blame given to the leader of the collective as well as Young-sook. Young-sook struggles to understand how others have found forgiveness, yet somehow she ssems to consider herself free from blame. I want to see a little bit more of how she deals with her own roll in the deaths.
As the world war ends, the girls travel together to seek out “leaving-home” work elsewhere in the Pacific Ocean, again contributing to their family welfare. But much is in turmoil in Jeju. As a small island between Korea and Japan, it becomes a place for American soldiers to stay, as a waystation between the two countries. In order to control order, the island is now occupied and ruled by those who do not understand the culture.
Fate and Nightmares
Upon return to the island, Young-sook and Mi-ja are separated and their friendship is tried. Mi-ja has been married, without her consent, to a wealthy businessman who helps to lead the island. On the other hand, Young-sook has been married to a childhood friend. Young-sook is surprised that Mi-ja is unhappy in marriage and encourages her to be happy, to find fulfillment in her life by remembering her strength as a former haenyeo.
The two girls seem to have little to do with their futures, especially as their marriages are arranged and they seek clarity in decisions based on the island shaman. Even as she accepts the role of fate, Young-sook, as a leading woman haenyeo on the island, seems to think she does have some control. Therefore, she expects Mi-ja to control her future as well. In the coming years (1960s), violence erupts on the island as American and Korean politics overflow from the mainland and local island leaders seek to identify rebels who are supposedly working against the cause of democracy. Mi-ja and Young-sook are thus separated by politics, as Mi-ja’s husband has much to do with island governance. Young-sook and her husband simply try to live their simple lives.
This part of the book contains a lot of violence as the specifics of war (including destruction of complete villages) are detailed as a part of Young-sook’s life. It is at this point that Young-sook becomes bitter. We know from the 2008 framing story that the two former friends are no longer in contact with each other, and now we see what has happened. Young-sook believes she continues to define her own future, but now she doesn’t even see that she is letting her anger and hatred control her. She had always believed that Mi-ja could change her happiness; now it is Mi-ja who is changing her happiness in a different life while Young-sook is overcome and defined by her past experiences.
Lessons Learned?
Thus, the novel becomes an intimate look at what friendship means, what destiny can be, and the power of love. I liked the messages, to some extent. But I disliked the last quarter or so of the book. It jumped from war and destruction in the 1960s and 1970s, including the obvious PTSD of the Jeju dwellers to the 2008 dedication of a memorial to those who died. The narrative explains that the government of Korea contributed to hiding the truth of the war crimes in Jeju. For me, however, this was too big of a jump for the characters. How, in all those years, could Young-sook fail to come to terms with the situation? I especially wonder since every single person on the island had residual trauma from the experiences. It is possible such a bitterness could have been overcome in four days with a great-granddaughter, I suppose. But the 30-year jump simply was too much for me. I felt frustrated by the annoying Young-sook in the 2008 frame, and I wished there was a better (and sooner) resolution that did not require skipping forward three generations.
The concepts of friendship and forgiveness, fate versus choice, are memorable ones, I believe. Mi-ja lived under a doomy concept of “fate,” and as a result never felt peace even in her relatively comfortable life with daughter, granddaughter, and great-granddaughter. Now, in 2008, her great-granddaughter is trying to come to terms with the how and why of Mi-ja’s own guilt. To this great-granddaughter, Mi-ja was a strong woman who dealt with impossible situations and made her life into a beautiful creation.
On the other hand, Young-sook seems to fail to recognize her own blind spots. She didn’t accept fate, or maybe she expected more, since as a powerful haenyeo that she should have had life as she wanted it. As a result, she held on to the hatred and trauma. No matter how many times she was told to accept and move on, she still remained hurt and bitter. As an old woman, she wasn’t very nice. I’m not sure I would have wanted to be her friend. (As one looking back on the situation, though, maybe I should not judge the end result of such trauma as the violent war depicted.)
So, in the end, both women had been miserable for most of their lives. What a sad resolution for what was a lovely childhood friendship in the first part of the book. It also felt depressing as a look at the mighty haenyeo culture that has barely survived until today. I’m impressed by their amazingly unique culture. I loved learning about it. But this story of friendship left me with a sadness. We never realize what we have until it is gone. In this case, it was life with a friend. Memories and joys not forged together.
