Between Pain and Boredom
Wonsan, Gangwon Province – August 15, 1945
At 12:00 PM on August 15, 1945, Lord Go’s entire family, relatives, and household servants sat before the radio, holding their breath. A heavy silence hung in the air, broken only by the crackling static of a strong radio signal. Then, a tense, trembling voice began to speak.
"In a few moments, at noon, there will be a major broadcast. All subjects across the nation, please stand. His Majesty the Emperor will personally read the Imperial Rescript on the termination of the Greater East Asia War."
The Japanese national anthem, Kimigayo, played solemnly, yet with a strangely mournful tone. As the melody faded, a thin, high-pitched, and somewhat unfamiliar voice emerged. The recording of the Emperor’s voice was poor, and because he spoke in highly formal courtly language, it was difficult for ordinary people to understand immediately.
"I, having considered the general trends of the world and the current conditions of the Empire, intend to resolve the situation through an extraordinary measure, and hereby address my loyal subjects." "...I have instructed the Imperial Government to notify the four powers—the United States, Great Britain, China, and the Soviet Union—that their joint declaration has been accepted."
Lord Go’s hands, clenched in tension, began to shake.
"The turn of the war has not necessarily developed to our advantage, nor has the world situation been favorable to us. ...I cannot help but express my deepest regret to our allied nations who cooperated with the Empire for the liberation of East Asia." "To secure a peaceful era for ten thousand generations, I intend to open the gate to peace by enduring the unendurable and suffering the insufferable."
The broadcast lasted about four minutes and ended with another burst of static. Moments later, an announcer added a supplement in a sobbing voice.
"...What you have just heard was His Majesty’s most merciful decision. The Great Empire of Japan has accepted the Potsdam Declaration and has declared unconditional surrender..."
Lord Go, a well-read man who understood global affairs, could now envision his future. The master of the land had changed once again. It was only a matter of time before the communist forces in the north and Soviet leaders—already active as anti-Japanese resistance—swarmed into North Korea to execute him and his family for being pro-Japanese collaborators.
Lord Go already knew that the Soviet Union had declared war on Japan on August 8 and was rapidly advancing south toward the northern Hamgyeong region, including Cheongjin and Najin. He also predicted that because Wonsan was a stronghold for labor movements, underground socialists would form "People's Committees" to seize power as soon as the Japanese withdrew.
Everyone turned to look at Lord Go. His chief attendant, Boksil, asked through tears, "My Lord... what will become of us?"
Lord Go stood up, opened a closet, and pulled out a small mother-of-pearl chest hidden deep inside. Distributing money to the gathered servants, he said, "Remaining in this house is now too dangerous for everyone. Go find your own way to survive. I will be executed as a traitor who collaborated with Japanese imperialism. I do not know what will happen to those of you who lived under my protection, so take this money and decide your own course immediately."
After distributing a generous amount of money to all the servants, Lord Go took his wife and Mi-hee from the study into the inner room. As they moved, a man named Song, who performed odd jobs around the house, fiddled with his money and glared at Lord Go, whispering, "Is this pittance all we get for severance? They’ll probably take all their gold and jewels and survive to live in luxury again, won't they?"
Inside the room, Lord Go closed the door, gripped Mi-hee’s hand tightly, and looked back and forth between his wife and daughter. "If you stay here, you will face a gruesome death. Hide your jewelry on your person and flee to the south. I have already contacted friends in Gyeongseong (Seoul); go there and take refuge."
Terror-stricken, Lord Go’s wife looked at him and said, "It sounds as if you aren't coming with us."
"I must stay to help the servants escape safely and organize the remaining secret funds and land deeds. I will follow you shortly. Take Mi-hee and go to Lord Choi's house in Gyeongseong first."
By this time, on the night of August 10, the 38th parallel—the line dividing North and South—had already been drawn on a National Geographic map by Colonel Dean Rusk and Colonel Charles Bonesteel of the American Office of Strategic Services (OSS). They had set the 38th parallel north as the boundary to ensure the capital region, including Gyeongseong and major ports, remained within the American occupation zone.
While Lord Go could not have known such specific military secrets, his mind, sharpened by international awareness, was racing. He instinctively sensed that if the Soviet army devoured the North like a tidal wave, the South—where the Americans would land—would be a safer sanctuary for a collaborator like himself and his family.
Lord Go knew the future of Korea now lay in the hands of the Soviet Union and the United States, and he knew that "money" was the only thing that could save him. The master of the country had changed, but he knew that money was the only thing that could sustain life.
He knew better than anyone that when uncontrollable chaos begins, neither the knowledge from ten thousand books nor a royal genealogy matters—only money holds power. Unable to let go of Mi-hee’s hand, Lord Go spoke with tearful eyes.
"Mi-hee, I am so sorry your father cannot protect you. Everyone in Wonsan knows you are the daughter of a Japanese woman. It will be disastrous if the anti-Japanese communists find you. You must hide your identity at all costs while you flee. Smear soot on your face, wear tattered clothes, and change your name and surname."
To Lord Go’s wife, seeing her husband worry so much about Mi-hee was more galling and bitter than the news of Japan’s surrender. She pulled out various jewels from her treasure box in the inner room and began dividing them into cloth pouches. Lord Go left the room and headed back to the study. Left alone, the wife and Mi-hee felt a vast emptiness, unsure of how to prepare for this new reality.
At that moment, the attendant Boksil entered. She helped Mi-hee with her disguise, stripping her of her silk garments and dressing her in the cotton jacket of a commoner. She hid two pouches of jewels given by the mistress inside her chest. Lord Go’s wife also changed into cotton clothes and hid the treasures within her jacket. Boksil said, "Please take me with you, Madam. I have nowhere else to go. I will serve you with loyalty for the rest of my life. Please take me in."
And so, the three women climbed into the Mercedes-Benz 170V that Lord Go had prepared in advance. The car was packed with survival supplies. Lord Go, sensing the end of the war, had long ago stockpiled fuel, knowing a world would come where even a drop of gasoline would be hard to find. He brought out his hidden canisters and filled the fuel tank to the brim. It was the only engine that could carry his family’s lives to the south.
The driver, Sato Kenji, was the son of a Japanese official dispatched to Joseon. When Kenji was orphaned at thirteen, it was Lord Go who took him in and cared for him like a son. Now, bearing the fate of the three women on his shoulders, Kenji looked at Lord Go with a face hardened by immense responsibility.
'Go Daikan-sama (Lord Go), I will risk my life to bring these three women safely to Gyeongseong. Thank you sincerely for treating me as a human being and taking me in all these years.'
Large tears fell from Kenji’s eyes. Lord Go approached and embraced Kenji’s shoulders. "It’s all over... it’s all over... You must return to Japanese soil too..." As he spoke, he slipped three gold bracelets into Kenji’s pocket. "Start anew. You’ve worked hard. It’s over. It’s all over now."
Kenji clung to Lord Go and sobbed like a son parting from his father. There was no time. Lord Go knew the Soviets had declared war on the 8th and had already landed in Unggi and Najin. With Japan’s surrender, it was only a matter of time before the Soviet-backed guerrillas stormed his house to execute him.
Lord Go said, "I have notified the Japanese gendarmes at the checkpoints. If there is trouble, give them this letter and one of these gold coins. Get to Gyeongseong by any means and seek Lord Choi’s help." He handed the pouch containing the letter and gold coins to Kenji and added urgently, "Go now. Depart."
Mi-hee approached and embraced Lord Go. "Father, please come to Gyeongseong quickly. we will go first and prepare for our new life."
Lord Go’s wife watched this coldly from behind and said, "Come to Gyeongseong as soon as your business is finished. And give me a land deed so I can buy a house there. I will trade it with someone I know in Gyeongseong to secure land."
Lord Go went into the study, handed a land deed to his wife, and said, "Go safely, and please look after Mi-hee."
At these words, his wife’s insides twisted with disgust. To her, being asked to look after the daughter of a Japanese woman—who shared not a single drop of her blood—felt like an insult. "Come and look after her yourself," she snapped, snatched the deed, and climbed into the car.
The three women and Kenji set off toward Gyeongseong. Lord Go entered his study alone. The walls were covered to the ceiling with bookshelves filled with countless volumes. In the room packed with books brought by his friend Shobei and those he had read with Mi-hee, Lord Go stood tall, looking at his books like a great antlered stag cornered and staring down a sniper.
He pulled Baek Seok’s poetry collection, The Deer, from the shelf.
On a night when the moonlight flows like a moss-covered turtle, a deer is crying on the mountain. It cries, thinking of an old friend beyond the distant peaks.
Lord Go regained his composure as he looked at the books filling his study. Outside, he could hear the sounds of the servants packing their belongings to find their own paths. The world had changed, but inside this study, Lord Go felt that he and his books remained unchanged.
He knew that while everything outside the door had shifted, the hundreds of books in this room and his heart gazing upon them were constant. He realized that the thing he had been loyal to was neither Japanese imperialism, nor the Korean royal family, nor the incoming Western culture, nor communist revolutionary thought—it was simply his own life. He knew that the answers to that life existed within these many books, including the ones he had yet to read.
He pulled out a book by Schopenhauer, which he had read and discussed at length with Shobei, and began to read. A passage from The World as Will and Representation caught his eye:
"Life swings like a pendulum, back and forth, between pain and boredom." (Das Leben schwingt also, gleich einem Pendel, hin und her, zwischen dem Schmerz und der Langeweile.)
Lord Go sat alone in the study, closed his eyes, and thought. It was a suffocating moment, not knowing what the future held for his wife, his daughter, and the many people who had relied on him. Unconsciously, his thoughts trailed off with Schopenhauer’s words.
"Am I standing on the path of pain right now, or the path of boredom?"
Suddenly, tears and laughter burst from him at once.
"I am standing on the path of boredom."