Customer Reviews

Korea: A Walk Through the Land of Miracles

5 star:		(5)
4 star:		(4)
3 star:		(4)
2 star:		(3)
1 star:		(5)

 

 

I picked up this book hoping to get some insight into Korean life, culture, and customs. The subtitle--"A Walk Through the Land of Miracles" was also very appealing. However, Winchester should have subtitled this book--"Why I Hate Korea". His condescending attitude drips off of every word.

The first problem with this book is that for a book that is supposed to be about Korea, he spends an awful lot of time with foreigners in Korea. In fact, you'll learn more about Irish missionaries and American soldiers than you will about Koreans. I would say that about 50 percent of the people he encounters in this book are not Korean. To make matters worse, the Koreans he does encounter are a weird lot (probably due to the fact that he is hanging around American bases rather than where descent family people would go). Of the Koreans he encounters, nearly half of them are prostitutes. From Winchester's account, you might believe that Korea is crawling with prostitutes. This is surprising due to the fact that Korea is a quite conservative country. My only guess is that Mr. Winchester went out of his way looking for prostitutes. So, instead of the land of miracles promised in the subtitle, you get the land of seedy red light districts.

As if this weren't bad enough, Mr. Winchester has a very sexist attitude. Of the Korean women he met that weren't prostitutes, he always adds the adjective pretty or attractive, as if he were sizing up every woman he met for a romantic encounter. In fact, he tells us that many of them threw themselves upon him. Well, good for him, but I don't want to waste my time on reading about it. None of the Koreans he mentions seem to have any personality (as described by Winchester). There's no sense that he is meeting actual people.

The final thing that I found really unpleasant was the way he kept belittling Korean customs and culture, and in the same breath complains about the loss of traditional Korean culture. In one sentence, he trumpets the glories of Kendal Mint Cakes and derides kimchi as a stink that makes him sick. He complains about sleeping on the floor, yet he'll shed tears when he sees a modern bed. He even complains that in the country-side people have electricy and TVs, as if he expected Korea to be preserved as a medieval theme park for his viewing pleasure.

I could go on and on, but I think you get the idea. Don't bother with this horrible book. You can find better.

Before reading this book, my understanding of Korea was as hazy as a foggy day in Seoul. Korea? Didn't they host the Olympics a few years back? And I think there was a messy war in the fifties that led to partition; the South became prosperous; the North became weird. Oh, and don't they eat dogs? Well, now the fog has cleared, and it's all thanks to Simon Winchester's absorbing and entertaining journey through this fascinating land. And yes, there are some references to canine cuisine, but more of that later.

The basis of the book is the author's decision to follow in the footsteps of a group of Dutch sailors who were shipwrecked off the Korean coast in 1633. And I really do mean in their footsteps: he walks all the way from the southern coast to the edge of the North Korean border (he would have gone further, but the American border guards threatened to break his legs). He describes the places and people along the way, but digresses to explain Korean history, culture, politics and language in a way that's far removed from the dusty old history book.

His journey begins on Cheju Island, off the southern coast, where thousands of Koreans go for their holidays. It's here that he meets Father Patrick McGlinchey (one of the McGlincheys of Cheju, presumably), who explains how a group of Irish missionaries raise sheep and knit Aran sweaters, which I think is an inventive way of converting folk to Christianity. They've been here since the 1950s and feel quite at home - apparently, if you screw up your eyes until they're almost closed, Cheju looks just like Connemara

Reaching the mainland, the author continues his trek, and finds drivers and bus passengers waving, smiling at him, offering him lifts, food and cans of fruit juice, just like they would in Glasgow. To us, the South Koreans would appear to be the most hospitable people on earth, but they themselves feel that Western influences are tainting their traditional ways. So much so that one observer expresses the view that, while North Korea is an ugly way to run a country, its people have retained their sense of respect for each other and resisted the Coca-Cola-nisation embraced by the South. Even so, the author's encounters with ordinary South Koreans are among the most charming and moving parts of his journey.

Inevitably, the subject of dog-eating raises its snout, and having sampled some, Winchester professes it to be "...very strong, very rich and with a background flavour of kidney". But it soon becomes clear that Koreans don't eat their four legged friends for any other reason than to improve their libido. In short, forget Viagra, try Fido.

For much the same reason, ginseng is big in Korea, but it also has huge cultural and economic importance. The author's visit to the town of Puyo offers the chance to see a factory where all the country's ginseng is made, processed and packed - and from where thousands of tons of the stuff are exported all over the world. The author's verdict on the taste of ginseng extract: "...the faintest hint of drying paint ...a freshly baked Victoria sponge cake, cooked in a pine wood on a spring afternoon...." Could be we've discovered the next Gilly Goolden.

In fact, it's this vivid turn of phrase that was one of the reasons I enjoyed the book so much. The Korean desire to kill and eat almost anything that moves means that "...except for the odd weasel or mouse, Korean forest floors are like vast empty ballrooms, dark and quite silent." But, before you're provoked to send a strong memo to the Korean branch of Friends of the Earth, you should know that there is one part of the peninsula where wildlife is flourishing - and it's not where you would expect. Inside the Demilitarised Zone that separates North and South Korea, no shots may be fired, allowing animals like the Korean wildcat and the little Korean bear (awww!) to wander in safety, at least from human prey. As the author observes: "It is an ironic counterpoint to the awfulness of war that so much that is beautiful and rare flourishes where human anger is greatest, and yet in those places where peace has translated into commerce, so much loveliness has vanished clear away."

This book first appeared in 1988, and Simon Winchester ends his journey at the North Korean border. But the preface to the 2004 edition follows him as he eventually ventures into the frozen North. In some ways, this is the best part of all. The North Korean capital, he claims, is much easier to navigate than Seoul mainly because in Pyongyang "...there is nothing there." There's also a revolting encounter with a North Korean cappuccino whose foam on top turns out to be a whisked eggwhite.

From a standing start, I can now say my knowledge of Korea has increased by a hundred thousand per cent, and although I might never get there, this book was the next best thing to experiencing the heart and Seoul of Korea.

Who knew?
 Most Koreans have the surname of either Kim, Park or Lee, and engaged couples with the same surname must prove they are not from the same clan before being permitted to marry.
 Korean is linguistically closer to Hungarian or Finnish than it is to Chinese;
 Confusingly, the Korean word for yes is "nay"
 To Koreans, you're already 1 year old from the moment you're born - which means your 42-year old reviewer would be 43 (or 143, after a hard day at work).

This book details the author's walking tour in South Korea in the late 80's. Though tidbits of interesting historical and cultural facts are included, they were written in a disorganized and anecdotal manner. Occasionally careless statements about the Koreans and Asians were made, clearly with exaggeration or overgeneralization.

Though the author said he loved Korea, what stands out page after page is the superiority complex he displayed for the land and the people. He mocked their age-old customs and current undertakings and gave proud accounts of his own bad behavior during his travel. The air of arrogance and condescension exudes from every single line. I am not a Korean, but even I am offended. The author obviously fails to understand that not everybody regards Kendal Mint Cake the best thing since sliced bread.

This book is a bit rambling at times but, since Winchester's travelled through Korea on foot, perhaps that was somehow apt. I have seen several negative criticisms of what Winchester has to say and how he says it; too condescending, too sexist, too disorganized... too, whatever. Possibly these charges have some merit but it should be borne in mind that a score of people can visit the same place at the same time and will come away with a score of different impressions. Winchester has not especially held himself out to be offering an in-depth, comprehensive objective analysis of a nature and culture. Rather, he took a trip to see somewhere that interested him and he wrote about what he saw and what he thought about the things he saw. Certainly, his observations are colored by his own biases and expectations but I read the book making allowance for that and simply enjoyed getting a glimpse into a land and people about which I heretofore knew almost nothing. This book was an interesting read. I got what I paid for.

Usually i don't let others' book reviews influence my own thoughts about a book, but this time, I'm going to have to side with them. Although this book depicts the amazing countryside history and culture of Korea not seen by the average tourist, Winchester's writing tends to always be sexist towards women, constant rhetorical bashing of the "typical" American sloth (Pp. 71-75), and non stop bragging about how Englishman are "Gentleman"; yet he lives in Massachusetts?. Putting all the propaganda of Winchester's style aside, the book is an entertaining read, but I'm sure others have done better.

I recall liking "Outposts" and "Fracture Zone" though it's been a while. "Korea", however, was the end of line for me. Winchester makes a repeated point of how popular he is among South Koreans by virtue of his being English; that was snotty enough by the third go-round. What did me in was the time he arrived at a U S base, browbeat them into letting him stay there (when they didn't have to), and then proceeded to trash just about every single U S military person he ran across after accepting their hospitality. He also had a penchant for running into anti-American Koreans; you'd think they were rife, along with all of the many prostitutes throwing themselves at him. Oh yeah, there was one old soldier, fawningly pro-British, as though the U K had been the ones who saved South Korea.
Yes, there's well-researched history here, hence a second star. Not worth purchasing new. If you can't find a used copy, get it from the library.

I picked up this book for its interesting cover- the pairs of shoes seem so inviting- asking the reader to take a glimpse into the mystical land of Korea. That was a promising start but the read soon became a drag. The author tends to describe scenaries (perhaps because he walked for the journey)with too much details and there are not many facades of Korean life that are well-depicted. There is insufficient insight into why Koreans are different from the Japanese and the Chinese, though all 3 great nations are so close to one another.

For an Asian who would probably know Korea an bit more than fellow readers from the Western world, I do not find this book entertaining at all. The saving grace was perhaps some history of the development of hangul, the Korean language and the different types of ginseng. That's about it.

The comments left by reviewers who praise this book for educating them about Korea and Koreans are quasi-comically horrifying. This is quite possibly one of the most inaccurate and unflattering descriptions of South Korea, its people and their customs that I have had the misfortunate of reading. Not only that, but he reminds me of The Annoying Travel Companion. You know, the one who complains about having to try anything new or different (uh, the point of travel in the first place??!) and whines about how they miss the comforts of home... As a Korean-American and an enormous fan of Simon Winchester's other writings, I was initially pleased to stumble upon this book. However, after reading this book (yes I suffered through the entire thing, hoping that it would get better), I cannot emphasize what a disservice Winchester has wrought. It even lacks the saving grace of excellent prose, as it is uncharacteristically poorly written. Rather, Winchester stumbles awkwardly through many scenes that leave you embarrassed (on his behalf), uncomfortable and/or skeptical. Of course, if you are interested in an inaccurate, hopelessly self-indulgent travelogue that reflects Winchester's apparent creepy attitude toward Korean women and his unexpected and distasteful white superiority, then this is the book for you.

Mr. Winchester has done a credible job relating Korea in this short work. I lived and worked there for six years, was fortunate enough to have married and lived with a Korean for 40-plus years, so understand a bit about the country and its civilization. I was pleased to be in accord with his writing throughout, though believe, nevertheless, that the North Korean government ought to be destroyed, lock stock and barrel, and without the slightest regret. The book relates Korea, well.

This book came as a birthday present from my brother. Written in 1988 by the British journalist Simon Winchester, Korea: A Walk Through the Land of Miracles is a fascinating account of one man's journey--by foot I may add--across a country that has been all but cut off--historically speaking--from the rest of the world. Winchester starts his trek on the "honeymoon isle" of Cheju, in the South China Sea, and finishes at the demilitarized zone, or DMZ, essentially the North Korean/South Korean border. For his path he chooses the same path taken by the Dutch sailors shipwrecked on Cheju in 1688, during their forced march northward and up the peninsula. Each chapter starts with an account from the journal of Dutch seaman Hendrik Hamel, written nearly 5 centuries ago.

He meets a lot of interesting people along the way. On Cheju Island we speak to a Jesuit missionary and learn that there were once sheep on that island, but that they never really "got a hold," because for some reason or another, Koreans don't eat sheep. It's a shame, because according to Winchester, who calls Cheju "The Irish Island," the climate would well support them. Father Patrick McGlinchey tells Winchester what a frustrating experience he had trying to convince the Koreans to raise and breed sheep, a task that ultimately failed. His initial suggestion of importing the sheep was met with scoffs all around. "The grasses aren't good enough," the Koreans said.
"Well. Let's sow the uplands with something good," McGlinchey suggested.
"That won't work," they said. "The soil is too poor."
"We'll add lime," the missionary countered.
"It won't work," the Koreans insisted. "If it could work, our ancestors would have already done it." I really love this passage because it provides invaluable insight into the stubborn nature of Koreans.

Winchester continues his trek up the peninsula, stopping in Kwangju (now Gwangju) to visit the cemetery where more than 200 bodies--the results of the Kwangju Massacre--are buried. The only problem is they are all spread out, and he's never really sure if what he finds is what he's looking for, as he stands blankly staring at a bunch of headstones with strange inscriptions cut into them, while the taxi driver patiently waits. He visits a factory that makes "digestives," cookies introduced by the British that have taken Korea by storm. He runs into a couple of costume jewelry buyers from America at a hotel. He meets a Buddhist monk, stays at several temples, and even tries some Buddhist meditation. He goes to karaoke bars and eats dried squid and chases it with cheap beer. He walks, and walks, and walks some more. The weather is terrible. It is raining most of the time.

Why he spends so much time searching the nearest American military base is beyond me, but perhaps he's hankering for a cheeseburger or two after two weeks of eating rice and strange roots and pieces of tree bark. Luckily for him, he's in Korea and U.S. installations are a dime a dozen. The first G.I he meets can't make a sentence without inserting the word "pussy." Later, further north, he spends a couple of days at one base near the town of Kunsan in Chollanamdo, and goes out drinking with a bunch of soldiers in American Town, the adjacent "commercial area" consisting of a bunch of bars and cathouses catering to the U.S. military. The soldiers he meets are by and large, loud, obnoxious, and ignorant. They treat the Koreans with contempt. They can't speak a lick of the language, and don't know squat about the culture. They are totally isolated in their own world of NFL football, cheeseburgers and French fries. They might as well be in the USA. Well, they ARE in the U.S.A. That's why it's called American Town.

Basically, Winchester spends too much time on the military bases and not enough time in the massage parlors. At one point two women he befriends in a Karaoke bar show up at his hotel room at 3am, eager to please. He turns them away. Another time the same happens again, and his response is the same. Finally, when he arrives in Seoul, he goes to the first barbershop he sees for a 2-hour long massage, followed by shave and total body treatment. Or is it the other way around.

Probably the best part of the book is when he goes and visits a man who renounced his American citizenship to become Korean. There aren't many people who do this. He finds this man, Ferris Miller, originally from Wilkes Barre, Pennsylvania, living among the dunes on the West Sea, near the settlement of Chollipo. There Miller lives peacefully and manages his arboretum, which holds just about every tree, flower and shrub native to East Asia that one can imagine. Winchester spends a couple of days there kicking back and drinking beer with this reclusive, interesting man who has been such a positive influence on this country. We also learn that outside of the Bay of Fundy, the West Sea--which separates Korea from China--has the most extreme tidal range of any body of water in the world.

The book ends at the DMZ. Winchester is accompanied by a veritable army of soldiers, guides, attaches, liaisons, spokespersons and what not as he marches to the edge of the world's most heavily fortified border, and peers across the DMZ into the strange, reclusive country that is the Democratic People's Republic of Korea. He stares at the world's tallest flagpole, supporting the world's heaviest flag, that of North Korea. He comes to the bridge of no return, and toys with the idea of just continuing--continuing walking into North Korea. He asks his "hosts" what are the chances he could do such a thing. One soldier says, "We would have to let you sir. We have no power to stop you. But they call this the Bridge of No Return. You do know that, don't you Sir?"