Last week, I went to Wonju to attend the award ceremony of the 2014 Pak Kyong-ni Literary Prize. Bernard Schlink, this year’s recipient, remarked in his acceptance speech, “Like ancient sailors, we set out on a voyage to the uncharted ocean of literature, art and music. As we glide on the vast sea to explore unknown islands, we encounter a whole new world.”

As a writer, Schlink’s recurrent theme is how to cope with Nazi Germany’s dark past as the witnesses die of old age or their memories fade. His novels are a powerful criticism of and a profound insight into postwar German society, in which the younger generation found their parents guilty. Through the eyes of his protagonists, Schlink indicts the older generation that took part in the atrocities, whether inadvertently or intentionally. At the same time, he shows how the postwar generation should approach and come to terms with the older generation, calling for the two to ultimately reconcile.

In his celebrated novel “The Reader,” Schlink painfully tackles the complex psychological issues of Germany’s two generations, symbolized by young Michael Berg and the older Hanna Schmitz. Despite conflicts and antagonism, they exhibit a series of reconciliatory gestures: a ritual of bathing, making love and reading books, with the young boy reading to the illiterate older woman. Later, Hanna is charged and tried as a war criminal in a courtroom in which Michael is present. Although she is guilty and Michael finds his affair with her repulsive, he is strangely attracted to Hanna, who constantly haunts his life ever after.

In “The Reader,” Schlink seems to suggest that we should forgive but not forget the past. He also proposes that we try to understand those who made mistakes in the past out of ignorance. Hanna tries very hard to hide that she is illiterate. Perhaps her illiteracy is a symbol of her ignorance, which led her to collaborate with the Nazis. Michael, instead of denouncing her, enlightens Hanna by reading books to her, purifies her by bathing her and accepts her by making love to her. Even though it is difficult to let bygones be bygones, we can still try to understand others. That is what we should learn from “The Reader” and that is what makes the novel great and triumphant. Literature often painfully reopens the psychic wounds that leave indelible scars on us. But it can also heal gaping wounds. That is what all great literary works do.

On my way back to Seoul, I turned on the radio to listen to the news. The announcer reported that there had been a major clash between anti-North Korea conservatives who wanted to fly propaganda leaflets to the North and pro-North Korea progressives who tried to stop them. The report revealed that the two groups clashed violently, exchanged vehement political slurs and engaged in ferocious physical fights as if they were street fighters from the early 20th century. Even elementary school children these days do not fight so childishly.

Ideological bipolarity in Korean society today has reached a breaking point, seriously threatening Korea’s stability. South Korea is a nation divided into conservatives and progressives. While conservatives accuse progressives of being pro-North Korea leftists, progressives condemn conservatives as pro-Japan rightists. In the past, right-wing conservatives ruthlessly persecuted the family members of those who went to the North or collaborated with the North Korean communists during the Korean War. Now progressives scour the family trees of conservative leaders with the objective of exposing their forefathers as collaborators of the colonial government during the Japanese occupation.

Progressives assume that anyone who worked in a public office was pro-Japan. Perhaps, it never occurs to them that those who worked in public offices during the Japanese rule might have clandestinely helped other Koreans in trouble. Besides, there is a general consensus in Korea that anyone who lived on the Korean Peninsula during the Japanese rule or changed their names to Japanese at that time cannot plead immunity from accusations of being pro-Japanese. Under the circumstances, who, then, has the right to cast the first stone?

A friend of mine recently lamented, “Some of our political leaders are descendants of communist guerillas who collaborated with North Korean troops during the Korean War. Why, then, can’t the progeny of pro-Japanese people be our leaders?” Indeed, we should now put an end to the notorious unwritten law of our land called “guilt by association.” In the United States, it is not that difficult to find a police officer whose father is a fugitive conman or a jailbird because he is not responsible for his father. In Korea, however, if your father is a criminal or an ex-con, you can never become a law enforcement officer.

At the end of the recent movie “Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters,” Hansel narrates, “Revenge does not change the past. It won’t bring our parents back.” We should stop being resentful and bury the hatchet once and for all. We cannot dwell in the dark past forever. When and if we learn to forgive, understand and reconcile, we will see a wonderful new world unfolding before our eyes. Only then can we soar into a bright future.

By Kim Seong-kon

Kim Seong-kon is a professor emeritus of English at Seoul National University and the president of the Literature Translation Institute of Korea. ― Ed.