Bonus Audio: Prefer listening? I created a podcast version using NotebookLM, with extra insights and stories that didn’t make the post. Just hit play!
This is Part 8 of the series The People’s Mandate: Korea’s Democratic Edge, a special miniseries within Growing Up in Korea (Part 18).
Last week, we zoomed out to explore why Korean content hits so hard.
We talked about how collective trauma, national resilience, and sky-high audience expectations forged a storytelling superpower.
This week, we zoom in.
We’re heading into one of the most emotionally charged chapters of modern Korean history: the Japanese colonial era (1910–1945).
To outsiders, it may seem like a distant chapter.
To Koreans, it’s still in the bloodstream.
These stories aren’t just about the past—they’re about who we are, how we remember, and what we refuse to forget.
And I’ve done the legwork for you:
I’ve included direct links to all the works I could find in English translation or with English subtitles. Just click on the titles (they'll be in purple!) to dive right in.
A Nation’s Classroom: Where History Lives in Every Story
To truly grasp the power of these narratives, it’s essential to understand that the Japanese colonial era isn't just taught in history class—it’s woven into the very fabric of Korean education, from childhood through young adulthood.
Students don’t just learn facts. They immerse themselves in the human experience of the time through literature.
Before graduating from elementary school, students are already reading and studying:
“Strange Teacher” (이상한 선생님) – A biting satire about a teacher who swaps political allegiance post-liberation. It subtly mocks opportunists in chaotic times.
“Uncle Banggu” (방구 아저씨) – Introduces young readers to the suffering of ordinary Koreans under occupation. Poignant, sad, and unforgettable.
Middle School Deepens the Cut: Stories Steeped in Grief, Irony, and Survival
By middle school, Korean students are no longer just reading for plot—they’re being asked to read for pain, subtext, and historical trauma. These short stories, set during the Japanese colonial era, are taught nationwide and often appear on exams. They are dense with irony, metaphor, and a quiet ache that lingers:
A Lucky Day (운수 좋은 날) by Hyun Jin-geon
A rickshaw driver finally earns a windfall after a long streak of bad luck—money he desperately needs for his wife’s medicine. But when he returns home, he finds her already dead. A masterclass in cruel irony, showing how hope and tragedy walk hand-in-hand during national despair.The Camellias (동백꽃) by Kim Yu-jeong
A simple tale of a country boy teasing a girl he likes, filled with charming rural innocence. But underneath: poverty, emotional repression, and the hunger for warmth—both literal and relational.When the Buckwheat Flowers Bloom (메밀꽃 필 무렵) by Lee Hyo-seok
A nostalgic journey through buckwheat fields—poetic, dreamlike, and a reflection of Korea’s lost innocence and beauty during a time of great change.Samnyong the Mute (벙어리 삼룡이) by Na Do-hyang
A mute servant endures cruelty and betrayal while harboring unspoken love. A brutal story about the literal and figurative voiceless—those whom society chooses not to hear.
High School Turns to Poetry: Memory, Resistance, and the Weight of Language
High school students revisit stories from middle school—but now they also dive into poetry. These poems aren’t electives. They’re required. They’re tested. They’re national memory.
I can't share every poem from the curriculum here, but I want you to feel the power of just one piece.
To illustrate, here's a poignant excerpt from “Does Spring Come to Stolen Fields?” (빼앗긴 들에도 봄은 오는가?) by Yi Sang-hwa, a haunting reflection on colonial loss that uses spring as a metaphor for stolen freedom, where quiet mourning doubles as resistance.
Now this is some other's land— And does spring also come to stolen fields?
지금은 남의 땅 — 빼앗긴 들에도 봄은 오는가?
My body bathed in sunlight, I walk and walk in a dream. A path parting the fields like a comb to where blue sky and green earth merge.
나는 온몸에 햇살을 받고 푸른 하늘 푸른 들이 맞닿은 곳으로 가르마 같은 논길을 따라 꿈속을 가듯 걸어만 간다.
Sky, and Earth, mouths tight shut: I know in my heart I have not come on my own. Have you drawn me out? Is there someone who
입술을 다문 하늘아, 들아, 내 맘에는 나 혼자 온 것 같지를 않구나. 네가 끌었느냐, 누가 부르더냐.
(Translated by Peter H. Lee)
Here are more verses that shaped a people:
“Prologue” (서시) and “Counting Stars at Night” (별 헤는 밤) by Yoon Dong-ju
Written before his death in a Japanese prison, Yoon’s poems blend vulnerability with quiet defiance. They ache with yearning for moral clarity and national dignity.“The Silence of Love” (님의 침묵) by Han Yong-un
The “beloved” is Korea—silenced but still burning with spiritual and political yearning. A poetic cry after the March 1st Movement.“The Summit” (절정) and “Wilderness” (광야) by Yi Yuk-sa
Written while imprisoned, Yi’s poems blaze with rage and resistance. The imagery is barren—but the will to fight is anything but.“Azaleas” (진달래꽃) by Kim So-wol
Often read as a love poem, this simple verse also captures national heartbreak, cultural loss, and the ache of farewell.
These aren’t just poems.
They’re battle cries—whispered, memorized, recited.
When I recommend them, know this:
You’re reading what an entire country grew up grieving.
My #1 Must-Read: Toji (토지, The Land)
By Park Kyong-ni
If you read only one Korean novel from this era, let it be this.
I first “read” Toji in college—well, skimmed it. My edition alone had 16 volumes! But years later, I read it properly. And it felt like the book had been waiting for me.
Park Kyong-ni doesn’t just write history—she resurrects it.
She paints the soul of a nation: the loss, the resistance, the land.
My late grandmother, who attended college during the colonial period, used to tell stories that echo scenes from this novel. That’s how real it feels.
Even Korean literary giants agree:
Cho Se-hee: “Toji has raised our spiritual GNP.”
Park Wan-seo: “A great river that accepts all streams… a miracle possible only through literature.”
📚What it’s about:
A multigenerational saga chronicling the lives of a Korean gentry family through the late Joseon era and Japanese rule, capturing class shifts, identity loss, and unbreakable spirit.
📍Where to read:
Find English translations via your library or WorldCat
📺Bonus: TV Adaptations
KBS (1987–1989): 103 episodes – Unfortunately, the full series isn’t officially available for streaming, but you can find some clips on YouTube. Just note—they’re all in Korean, without subtitles.
SBS (2004): 52 episodes - Watch on OnDemandKorea (Korean only)
From Page to Picture: History on Screen
If literature is the soul, Korean film and drama are the heartbeat.
They take what’s been buried and make it seen—sometimes heartbreakingly poignant, other times solemn or even darkly humorous.
It’s a testament to Korean creativity:
a nation that can find profound humanity, even in its darkest chapters.
There are so many incredible films and dramas that I could start a whole other newsletter just about them. (Still no takers? I’m subscriber #1!)
But here are my top picks.
🎬My #1 Drama Pick:
Years of Upheaval(여명의 눈동자, also known as Eyes of Dawn)
📺TV Mini Series (1991–1992)
In 1991, I was in the 6th grade. This drama was a cultural earthquake.
Average rating? 44.3%. At its peak, it hit 58.4%.
On Wednesday and Thursday nights at 9:50 PM, the streets emptied—everyone was watching.
📚 What it’s about:
A sweeping epic from Japanese occupation through WWII and the Korean War, following three intertwined lives. Tackles forced labor, “comfort women,” and Unit 731—without flinching.
🌟Why you should watch:
It’s epic, raw, emotionally searing, and narratively ambitious. It shaped an entire genre of Korean historical drama. If you only watch one thing from this list, let it be this.
📍Where to watch:
MBC has uploaded the series starting from Episode 1 on YouTube (Korean only, no subtitles).
For English subtitles, a DVD version is available for collectors.
It was also adapted into stage plays and musicals in Korea.
🎬My #1 Film Pick:
Mal-Mo-E: The Secret Mission (말모이)
I watched this on a plane recently and was captivated. No guns. No explosions. Just ink, paper, and quiet revolution.
📚What it’s about:
Based on the true story of Koreans who secretly compiled a Korean dictionary under colonial rule, when the Japanese government was trying to erase the Korean language.
🌟Why you should watch:
Because language is identity. And preserving language was a form of resistance.
It’s a moving portrait of everyday patriotism.
📍Where to watch:
Amazon Prime, Kanopy, Hoopla, OnDemandKorea, Plex, Roku Channel
More Essential K-Dramas & Films
📺 K-Dramas:
Gyeongseong Creature (경성크리처, 2023–24)
Set in Gyeongseong (old Seoul) in 1945, this series masterfully blends horror, thriller, action, and romance. It allegorically reflects the horrors of the colonial period through the emergence of monsters born of human greed.
📍 NetflixMr. Sunshine (미스터 션샤인, 2018)
This visually stunning drama follows a man born into slavery who returns to Joseon as an American Marine officer, becoming entangled with a noblewoman and the righteous army during the Joseon Dynasty's twilight and early colonial rule.
📍 NetflixBridal Mask (각시탈, 2012)
A masked hero fights Japanese oppression, exploring themes of resistance, identity, and complex relationships.📍 KOCOWA+, Plex
Chicago Typewriter (시카고 타자기, 2017)
A captivating tale spanning modern day and the 1930s, exploring the reincarnation of a trio connected by their past lives as independence fighters.
📍 Viki
🎞️ Films:
The Battleship Island (군함도, 2017)
A vivid depiction of forced labor on Hashima Island (Battleship Island), the desperate struggle for survival, and a daring escape.
📍 Amazon, Google Play, YouTube, PlexAssassination (암살, 2015)
A thrilling spy action film about an assassination plot against Japanese figures during the independence movement.
📍 Pluto TV, Tubi, Amazon, PlexDongju: The Portrait of a Poet (동주, 2016)
A poignant biographical drama about beloved poet Yoon Dong-ju, whose quiet intellectual resistance and tragic death came to symbolize an entire generation’s longing for dignity. His poems became the voice of resistance.
📍 Plex, AmazonSpirits' Homecoming (귀향, 2016)
Portrays the heartbreaking experiences of "comfort women," young girls forced into sexual slavery by the Imperial Japanese Army.
📍 Prime Video, Google PlayThe Last Princess (덕혜옹주, 2016)
Based on the tragic true story of Joseon's last princess, forcibly moved to Japan and fighting to return home.
📍 Tubi, PlexAnarchist from Colony (박열, 2017)
A vivid portrayal of the true story of Park Yeol, a Korean anarchist and independence activist, and his comrade and lover Fumiko Kaneko. Together, they defied Japanese authorities in pursuit of justice.
📍 Amazon
🎁 Bonus rec:
Tale of the Nine Tailed: 1938 (구미호뎐 1938)
Fox spirits. Time travel. Japanese occupation. Peak K-weirdness.Don’t watch this for strict historical accuracy—watch it for the wildly entertaining, genre-bending ride that it is. This series proves that the Japanese colonial era doesn’t have to be portrayed only through solemn tragedy or epic resistance. It can also be strange, funny, and mythic.
Plus, it’s a fantastic entry point into the world of Korean indigenous gods and native spirits.
Start with Season 1 (on Netflix) for context, then dive into the glorious mess of Season 2.
Season 3 is reportedly on the way soon!
Why These Stories Matter—Now More Than Ever
Korean creators have done something remarkable:
They’ve turned trauma into story, and story into strength.
These works don’t just preserve memory. They give it shape, emotion, and urgency.
They’re not just Korean stories.
They’re human stories.
Your Turn
Have a favorite film, drama, or book from this era?
Drop it in the comments or shoot me a note—I always love new recs.
Remember:
History isn’t just what happened.
It’s what we retell, what we grieve, and what we grow from—together.
Coming Next Week
You’ve heard of Kpop Demon Hunters, right?
Well, here’s a fun fact: It shares something in common with this newsletter—Ilwolobongdo (일월오봉도)!
That iconic painting of the sun, moon, and five mountain peaks?
It appears as the stage backdrop whenever HUNTR/X performs in Kpop Demon Hunters. And yes—it’s also part of my newsletter logo, beautifully illustrated by my talented collaborator, Jihyun.
So before we dive back into the deeper layers of Korean democracy, let’s take one final cultural detour—into the world of symbolic imagery in Korean tradition.
Ilwolobongdo isn’t just a pretty painting. It’s a powerful cultural emblem—one that historically expressed the core ideals of Korea’s national identity and political philosophy.
Next week, we’ll unpack its hidden meanings—and explore why it keeps reappearing in both royal courts and K-pop fantasy worlds.
Stay tuned!
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