♪♪ -Tonight on "PBS Arts Talk"... -Min Jin Lee.

I'm so delighted.

-...critically acclaimed author Min Jin Lee on her best-selling novel "Pachinko."

-Please have a seat, please.

-She sits down with award-winning journalist Ann Curry.

-All this pain that you experienced... -Mm-hmm.

-...is it what made you a writer?

-On this edition of "PBS Arts Talk."

♪♪ -Min Jin Lee, welcome.

-Oh, gosh.

Thank you so much for having me, Ann.

-Such a pleasure to sit across from you.

-What an honor to talk to you.

-Oh.

"Pachinko" is a triumph.

It is a sweeping saga that takes us through four generations of one Korean family.

It not only tells us something that is largely unknown.

It is epic.

It is lauded.

And it's a best seller.

And we should probably mention, because many people have heard about or maybe even watched the Apple TV+ series.

How did you first hear about this story -- the story of Koreans being persecuted in Japan?

-Well, I didn't know anything about it because I was educated in America, for the most part.

And I was a history major in college.

And a white American missionary came to my university and gave a little lecture, which was not really attended except by two students and the host who had asked me, and I couldn't say no.

And the white American missionary, you know, a regular do-gooder from America, went to Japan, and he was serving the Koreans in Japan.

He told a story about a little boy in his parish who had climbed up to his apartment building and he killed himself.

And it turned out, when his parents looked into it, they found his middle-school yearbook, because this was a 13-year-old boy.

And in the middle-school yearbook, his Japanese classmates had written to this boy, who was ethnically Korean but born in Japan -- His parents were ethnically Korean, and they were also born in Japan.

And they had written, "Go back to where you came from.

I hate you.

You smell like kimchi."

And they wrote the words, "Die.

Die.

Die."

And when I heard this story, I really couldn't believe it, because it was so hard for me to believe, because that was so not my experience growing up in Queens, New York, where everybody was different.

And we didn't even think of ourselves as Asian.

Like, back then, we said "Orientals."

And I couldn't believe that kids could hate other kids because of their ethnicity, which compelled this boy to die.

And that story just sort of stayed with me, and it wouldn't let go.

And when I quit being a lawyer, I said, "Oh, I'm going to write that book, and it's going to take me no time at all."

But it took me 30 years.

-30 years of thinking about it and researching it and writing it.

-And throwing out manuscripts, mostly throwing out manuscripts like, "Oh, this is garbage."

Because it was just an angry -- I wrote a very angry manuscript based on research.

And it was so boring and it was just dreadful.

It's like, "Who cares?

Who wants to read this?"

And so I started again.

-The racism, especially in this timeframe that you're talking about in your book, was so severe that Koreans could not work.

But they could work at pachinko parlors.

-Yeah.

-Why pachinko?

-Because pachinko was seen as something that's low-class.

It is so deeply part of Japanese culture.

And yet -- And there are many, many Japanese people who are involved in pachinko, the business.

At one point in recent history, it made significantly more than the export of automobiles.

-These are like Japanese slot machines, Japanese version of slot machines, yeah?

-They're pinball machines.

They work like slot machines.

But they're vertical and they're for adults.

And it's gambling, so you can make money from it.

I've played a lot in order to do research.

[ Laughs ] And it's nothing that the average American really enjoys.

It's really loud and noisy, and it's very often smoke-filled.

It's declining in its popularity right now, but it's a very big business.

Every person I interviewed who was ethnically Korean had somebody in their family who worked in yakiniku -- which is the Korean restaurants, the Korean barbecue -- or in the pachinko business.

That's somewhere in their family, like a cousin, a distant third cousin.

And I thought, "Well, what is this pachinko thing?"

'Cause I didn't know anything about it, either.

-You talked about 30 years of thinking about it and researching it and writing.

Let's talk about, how do you research a multigenerational epic?

-So I always start with academic scholarship.

So I read a lot of stuff that nobody reads, but I read it.

And I'm so grateful to the people who've spent their entire lives boiling down 300 books into one and give me their point of view.

And then I do interviews.

I do fieldwork.

I go actually to the places and I talk to the people.

So I do the man-on-the-ground kind of stuff.

But then I usually start out by first knowing, like, this is what the scholarship is.

This is what the secondary sources say, which has kind of boiled it down.

And then I talk to people.

-How do you know when to stop researching?

-Well, I'll do a humo-- like, a humongous amount, and then I'll start scribbling and then I see that there's big gaps or there are things I don't understand.

And then I go right back and I go, "What did I miss?"

-So you're researching and writing and researching and writing.

-Yeah.

Which is -- I don't know.

I don't know how else to work.

Like, I know I'm not going to write that many books, Ann, and that's okay.

I've decided that I'd rather write the books that I want to write and be proud of them than -- and -- and do with less.

-In "Pachinko" and in your prior book "Free Food for Millionaires," which is about Korean immigrants in America, your characters are constantly struggling with God.

They're wrestling over right and wrong and what to do and whether God would love them if they did certain things.

Like you?

-Sure.

Well, I am a Christian.

It's always a funny thing to talk about because in my universe, I might as well have three heads [Laughs] in terms of, you know, writing novels.

-You mean because writers -- You mean the word of the literary universe?

-Yeah, I think in the literary universe and also in an intellectual universe, also in New York City, the fact that I go to church on Sundays, people kind of go like, "That is bizarre."

-There are lots of parts of America where it's not bizarre.

-Yeah, it's not bizarre!

-But in this area, maybe.

-I think it's one of the most, like, normal parts of my life.

And also, I grew up in the church.

My grandfather was a minister.

He was the headmaster of an orphanage of all these Korean boys who were repatriated from Nagasaki and Hiroshima and they lost their parents.

-In the bombings?

-In the bombings.

-Mm.

-So that's how I grew up, with sort of this -- this is part of our lives.

My grandmother, during the colonial era, she protested and she was a Christian.

When I think of Christianity, it's very much like the civil rights movement in the United Sates.

I think of it as protest.

I think of it as liberation and freedom.

I don't think of it as somebody who's trying to control other people's bodies.

There I said it.

-There you said it.

-There I said it.

-But -- But in your books, you know, what they evoke is this idea of constantly struggling.

Your characters are constantly sort of asking these kinds of questions.

And even the most pious among them are facing difficulties that cause them to question it.

And it's just interesting because you bring this in both your books.

I'm guessing you're going to bring it into your next book.

-Oh, absolutely.

-And -- And what's also interesting is that you have made the decision that you practice reading from the Bible... -Yeah.

-...before you write.

-Yeah.

-I wanted to understand, you know, the -- the -- the -- what it might give you to read from the Bible before you write.

And so I started doing it every morning, and I-I found it grounding.

-Yeah.

-Calming.

Comforting.

For you, is it comforting?

-It's comforting.

And also, it's intellectually really challenging for me.

So, I-I love the Bible.

Like, I don't care what anybody says.

I love the Bible.

I know that it's a problematic issue, and -- and, I don't know, cancel me.

All those things that you mentioned have occurred.

However, because the text is so confusing and difficult, I started reading the New International Version study Bible.

I learned so many things that I don't know if that's what I was supposed to learn, but I think about it all the time as a writer in terms of, when I write -- want to write about epic, big things, things with great scope -- There's a great meaning at the very, very end.

And I do think about existentialism quite a lot, like, what is the point of us being here?

Why is there so much suffering?

I-I can't -- I can't bear it.

I can't bear watching people suffer and, um... Yeah, I need to try to understand that.

-The empathy that comes in your work and in now, in this moment, in this interview, always feels like it's right under the surface with you.

-Yeah, I always want to laugh [Laughs] or -- -And you do.

-I do.

I do.

I want to feel the joy of my life.

I don't really believe in the pursuit of happiness.

I don't, which is funny.

But I believe in meaning.

I believe that joy happens all the time, very often when I'm not looking for it.

But for me, what really matters is purpose.

If I feel like I live my life with purpose and with honesty and I do everything I can never to hurt people and if I can do everything that I can to, um -- a tiny bit of making this change, this progress, then I can go to bed at night and go like, "You know what?

I can rest.

You're good."

-It seems like a good way to live and a good way to work.

-Yeah, because -- I don't know about you.

I mean, you've had a long career that's really important.

In New York City, which is my home -- This is really where I grew up.

I'm really from here.

I'm from the boroughs.

I went -- I grew up in Queens, in Elmhurst, next to the gas tanks.

I went to high school in the Bronx.

My parents had a tiny little hovel of a business in Manhattan's Koreatown.

And I can honestly say, I know when people think, "This is important, this is not important," I know what it's like to be on the side of the people that no one thinks are important.

But I know they're wrong.

Like, I know all these people in charge are wrong just because there's more of us.

-Who are important.

-Who -- Who matter.

Who matter.

And I think that's the reason why the first line of my book is really a fight for resistance, of defiance.

Kind of like, "You say I don't count?

Well, we'll see.

We'll see about that."

[ Laughs ] -The first line of your book?

-"History has failed us, but no matter."

And over and over again, I'm convinced that ordinary people are the reason why we're here.

It's not the stars.

It's not the -- It's not the -- the people who they say are the richest, the most powerful, the most gifted.

I'm really interested in unremarkable people and how we get through.

-You know, I noticed, you know, in my reading, discovering that you had moved at the age of 7... -Mm-hmm.

-...with your family from Korea to Queens.

You know, I read, and you've spoken about this, as well, about being sort of lost in school with the newness of things, not being a great student, struggling against your own fears, you know, for your family, and -- and also, you know, sometimes being bullied.

-Oh, yeah.

-And so, in the chaos, as you describe, it sounds as though what you're saying is that books gave you this chance to calm down and feel settled in a structure that wasn't chaos, that felt like, as you say, a cosmos, a world that you could be in safely.

Is that right or wrong?

-Completely.

Completely.

It's funny, I have this gut check where when I'm with people, I think, "Oh, does this person make me feel safe or not?"

It's actually quite simple.

And I think it's because I've been around so much violence and danger that I can always go like, "Oh, this is a safe person."

And sometimes I can meet people and I think, "Oh, this person's very damaged and they might hurt me."

And it's not intentional.

It's just that they just are messy.

-Mm-hmm.

-But what I really try to do is, instead of judging, I keep thinking, "Well, why?

Why do they do that?"

And I've done thousands of interviews at this point to research my books.

And I've noticed that if I really, really look for their best motivation, if I really try to see them for what they want to be on their best day, best self, best life ever, they -- like, all of a sudden, the tension just goes away.

Because they know, I'm never going to hurt you.

That's just not what I do.

[ Laughs ] Like, I don't do that.

I don't believe in it.

I am profoundly a pacifist.

But at the same time, because I was bullied so much as a kid and my older sister, the first in the family, she fought every battle for me.

Like, she did so many things.

And I have learned how to fight.

I've learned how to fight and say, "No, you can't do that.

You know, you can't do that.

That's not okay."

And now I've learned how to do that for other people.

And that's been about growth.

-You referenced so much violence.

-Yeah.

-I have to ask you about that.

You're talking about the fact that your parents were robbed repeatedly?

-Yeah.

I've witnessed all of it.

I was there.

My parents had a little jewelry business in Koreatown.

Initially, it was valuables like 14-karat gold.

And then they got robbed so often and they were so -- and burglarized when they weren't there that they eventually switched to less precious metals like bronze and copper and gold-filled and things like that.

I've been held up.

I've seen my father get mugged.

I've seen -- And also I took the subway every day for almost all of my life.

So you see so much violence.

It's just part of who you are.

-So the little girl who grew up in a scary world, she becomes a writer... -[ Laughs ] Yes.

-...that defends people.

-And I also would love to protect people.

Like, isn't that funny?

I think that in my work, my -- my characters do struggle.

But I also want people to know that I really thought this through, and there is an ending and there is a meaning for all this pain.

-All this pain that you experienced... -Mm-hmm, mm-hmm.

-...is it what made you a writer?

-Oh, yeah.

I think that if I didn't believe that my work matters, that my suffering mattered, I certainly wouldn't sell the message that I sell.

Right?

Like, I am writing books, and I'm asking you for 20 hours of your life.

And it's really not the money.

I mean, this is like -- My publisher's gonna get mad at me, but I maybe make $1.10 or something every time I sell a paperback.

So I could do an event for 5,000 people and sell 50 copies and it looks like this, like, long author's line.

What did I make?

Like $56?

Right?

So -- And it's fine.

That's not why writers write books.

It's because we believe in selling our message.

And by the word "sell," I don't even mean for money.

It's like, no, we're trying to change things.

I think authors are nuts.

[ Laughs ] But at the bottom of it, even the most depressed author you know, I think he, she, or they are deeply optimistic that somebody cares about their message.

-And part of this message, it seems to me, is also because you have always been between worlds.

-Mm-hmm.

-Korea.

America.

-Yeah.

-Queens.

Yale.

And it is not easy to be always the one who is looked at as being different.

-Yeah, I don't think it's easy.

And I think that this idea of this being this liminal space, I think when you're an immigrant, I think when you're a woman, I think being an outsider, having grown up working-class, the fact that I can walk into any bookstore right now and say, "I'm just going to take 10 books and I can afford it.

Like, I'm not going to go into debt."

I just feel like a really rich person sometimes.

Like, "I can do that."

Like, if I want to buy a pair of shoes, I can.

So all those kinds of experiences, having -- knowing exactly what it's like not to have those experiences, makes me think, "Oh, there are so many stories that are not told."

-You have stood on a stage in front of lots of people... Mm-hmm.

-...and spoken out in March of 2022 against hate... -Mm-hmm.

-...at a time when Asian-Americans were reeling, as we still are, about the rise of violence and assault and -- and murder, especially of the elderly.

You got up on a stage and you expressed your fury.

-Tonight we've heard important testimonies of what we have endured as Asians, Asian-Americans, New Yorkers, and as Americans.

[ Voice breaking ] You worry incessantly about your parents and your spouses and your friends.

Again and again, Asians and Asian-Americans have asked me, "Why do they hate us?

Why do they hate us?

Why?"

I'm angry.

I'm -- I'm hurt.

[ Exhales deeply ] I think I have the right to feel safe.

I think you have the right to feel safe.

So when you think about the persecution of the Japanese or the Chinese in this country, and because I trained in history, there was federal legislation, there was state-sanctioned violence against the Chinese-Americans and the Japanese-Americans in this country.

Patriots.

State-sanctioned violence, theft of their property, for which the reparations were insignificant and almost insulting.

And then when I see the state not taking action against the violence against Asians and Asian-Americans in this country today and when I see the heads of states actually riling up more violence with rhetoric that's deeply hurtful, then I have to say, "That's not okay."

Not everybody reads my books.

Sometimes I have to say things.

And if I can get a little bit of attention, I will.

-In those remarks, you were particularly furious -- your fury was particularly palpable when you talked about the elderly, the most vulnerable.

-Yeah, my parents.

I mean, if you come after my dad or my mom, I will punch you in the nose.

I mean [Laughs] it's very simple.

It's like, forget lawyers.

Like, we're just going to have to have -- go at it.

But I think that being middle-aged and being a strong person means that we have to take care of those who don't have power.

That means the elderly and the children.

It's not -- Cross-culturally, this is actually not a radical idea.

I don't know why it seems so unusual for us to not talk about it as a regular concept, that we're supposed to take care of the elderly.

We're supposed to take care of the children.

It is our duty.

There's nothing else, really.

And obviously, just taking care of yourself, I don't think that'll lead a life that has any meaning that's really worth living.

Yeah, I'm just going to say that, because I believe that.

-You also seem to be speaking out in your books.

-Yeah.

-I mean, in your book "Free Food for Millionaires," your protagonist, Casey, is having an argument with her father.

And she says... You were writing in a way that we rarely see about the inside of what it's like to be looked at as if nothing you could do could make you good enough.

-I think there are people in this country, and certainly in this world, who are just hanging on to the planet by their fingernails, and they are just trying every day to get by.

And we tell them, "You're not good enough."

So in that conversation between Casey and her father, the outrage that she feels is, "I'm really trying.

Like, you're trying in your world, and I'm trying and mine, which you brought me up into."

And it's really hard, too.

And I think that everybody's suffering is so meaningful.

When we think about suicides in America, in an incredibly wealthy country, very rarely people kill themselves because they couldn't make rent.

They have very specific problems, very specific suffering.

And I'm thinking, so let's just, like, not judge.

Let's figure out what's going on and what it means to them.

Because as a matter of fact, when you really suffer and you actually have the trappings of economic success or physical beauty, people pretend like you're not suffering, but it's not true.

I've talked to so many people who I think -- who look like they have everything, and I'm going, "Oh, I didn't know that your husband cheated on you.

I didn't know that you had cancer.

I didn't know that your kid is suffering from, you know, bulimia."

Like, there are all these things that we don't understand about each other, but just because you have economic protection, it doesn't solve all the problems.

-You're working on a memoir.

-I am.

-You are still in your prime and -- -I am, aren't I?

Much -- -You are.

-We are.

[ Laughs ] -And you've much more to do.

Are you able to foresee how you want future generations to read and reread your books?

-Oh, well, I think the best part about publishing and the humility of publishing anything is that the tail of a book is so long and odd.

Like, the marketing of a book is, I don't know, a week or two weeks, if you're lucky, for the average author, if you can get any attention at all, right?

I serve on the Authors Guild and also in PEN America, so I know exactly how horrible life is for most writers who publish books.

And -- But you don't know where your book will then land.

And when you hear from somebody who lives in Iran or Afghanistan or Nigeria and they have read or reread your book, you're thinking, "Oh, it's like I wrote you a letter, and I didn't even know that you were going to be my pen pal."

In the same way, when I have read the books that I love and I treasure as my most valuable possessions in my house, they wrote me letters, and I didn't know that that was possible.

-This connection.

-Yeah.

Yeah.

-Must be nice.

-Well, I mean, I don't know.

I know that -- I'm sure you have a lot of friends, but it's that existential loneliness of even the most popular, most celebrated people.

The more I understand human beings and the more I spend time with people in my interviews and in my time, I realized, like, oh, no, that loneliness is so, so strong in people.

It doesn't go away.

And when you do have that feeling, especially with an object that you can sort of control -- A book is something you can control.

You can close it, right?

And it's not trying to manipulate you with an algorithm [Laughs] or make you lose your sleep in that way.

And also, it has to give you something.

And I think that readers know that.

So I'm proud to be a book writer.

I really am.

I love what I do.

I'm very, very lucky that I get to do it.

-We're lucky, too.

-Oh, thank you.

-Min Jin Lee, author of "Pachinko" and "Free Food for Millionaires" and the upcoming "American Hagwon."

Thank you.

It's been a joy.

-Oh, thank you.

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