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www.groovekorea.com / May 2014 104 Kalliope Lee’s kyopo novel explores pain, retribution and sex Interview by W.R. Pugsley ‘Sunday Girl’ is a dense, serious and literate work, while at the same time an approachable and lively story. ‘SUNdAy GIrL’ Edited by Elaine Ramirez (elaine@groovekorea.com) MUSIC & ARTS S eoul, Korea, 1991. America is at war in Iraq. Kim Hak-sun has not yet broken the silence about her abuse as a comfort woman. Seoul is rapidly developing. A young woman comes back to the city of her birth, housing a spirit that has been molded by America but is still tied to Korea. She is to find herself and in the process finds a greater truth that transcends time. “Sunday Girl” is a journey through pain, sex, friendship and retribu- tion, giving voice to the muted past, surrounded by the echoes of wars, enlightening the dark shame of countries and individuals. This is a novel full of cinematic vividness with a palpable soundtrack of ’80s music and the anthrophony of life. The perspective expressed is that of Sibyl, a Korean-American, and much of the sub-strata of the story revolves around her unique experiences as a kyopo in Korea; but anyone living in Korea can appreciate the observational humor and commentary sprinkled throughout. “Sunday Girl” is a dense, serious and literate work, while at the same time an approachable and lively story. A range of themes is touched on at different points, including freedom through trials and the over- coming of shame, justice and self-definition. It is a story grounded in reality yet also has elements of the fantastical. Groove Korea spoke with the author Kalliope Lee. Groove Korea: What led you to write this novel? Kalliope Lee: The impetus for writing “Sunday Girl” was the first time I heard about the comfort women. Their story resonated with me in so many ways, and I literally got chills and tremors — a sure sign that my soul had been shaken. The sense of injustice I experienced (as a child) felt bigger than me or the situation, as though there were ghosts inside me, past gener- ations who were not able to speak of their suffering before they died and whose “han” had been awoken through the episode. This is the same feeling I got when I heard of the comfort women. And my inner crusader took up arms. What was the genesis of characters sibyl and Jang mee? Sibyl and Jang Mee evolved more slowly, but they are all tied to the nexus of shame. I discovered that the biggest thing holding me back from being true to my soul was my debilitating sense of shame. A culturally instilled sense of shame is what kept the com fort women mum about their experiences, sacrificing relief and healing of their trauma. And I was no different — shame had a stranglehold on me as well. you share some similarity to the main character, sibyl, but what is your background? I was born in Seoul and immigrated to New York when I was 4. My parents are definitely old-school, but also have a maverick streak about them. They struck out and moved us to the suburbs in the North Shore of Long Island where there were very few Koreans. It was very white and wealthy. It sucked and I couldn’t wait to get away to a place where I would fit in and everyone would intuitively under- stand me. But wherever I went, I felt sorely let down. Nothing, how- ever, rivaled the disappointment I felt when I first returned to Korea, which in retrospect I understand I’d idealized as some kind of Eden. What were your experiences in Korea like? The last thing I expected when I first visited Korea was the discrim- ination and labeling I felt as a Korean-American. It was more painful than any of the standard-fare ignorance or racism I endured growing up as an “outsider” in the States because I had such high expecta- tions of being welcomed into the bosom of the homeland. And now? To be fair, Korean nationals seemed rather foreign to my Kore- an-American sensibilities as well, even though I was expecting an im- mediate affinity. I no longer concern myself with whether I’m Korean or how I’d be accepted or how I’d fit in. I’ve come to conclude that my true identity transcends any nationality. Writing “Sunday Girl” con- firmed this firsthand because I experienced my characters — male, female, Korean, Japanese, what have you — speaking through me, and I felt deeply that I contained within myself so much more than who I am autobiographically. I refer to the notion of soul quite a bit in the novel, because I know experientially that we are all part of the world soul, the anima mundi, and that is underneath all the criss-crossing, arbitrary categories of identity, who we are in essence. SuNDAy GiRL By Kalliope Lee 296 pages Available at Amazon.com Kindle price: $4.99