Previous
Chapter 1: The Boy, 1980
Themes
Key
LitCharts assigns a color and icon to each theme in Human Acts, which you can use to track the themes throughout the work.
Human Connection
Bodies and Vulnerability
Language, Memory, and Power
Youth, Courage, and Naivety
Afterlife and the Soul
Summary
Analysis
The recently murdered Jeong-dae explains that all of the dead bodies, including his own, have been thrown together on a pile. Jeong-dae’s soul is still attached to his body, so he can see what is happening to it: he is loaded into a military truck with others and jolted along. People used to say they would meet again in the afterlife, but Jeong-dae thinks that sentiment is now foolish and untrue. He does not sense any other souls here.
In Dong-ho’s section, the young boy wondered what kind of soul still “flutters” on earth when a person’s physical body ceases to function. Now, Jeong-dae’s portion of the narrative answers that question though a stylistic choice: author Han has Jeong-dae write from beyond the grave, suggesting that human personality persists even beyond physical violence and bodily collapse.
Themes
Jeong-dae watches as the blood flows out of his own face. The truck drives up a hillside, eventually stopping in front of an iron gate. Several military sentries unlock the truck and help drag the bodies inside into a clearing, Jeong-dae’s included. As the sentries stack the bodies on top of one another, Jeong-dae realizes that his body is second from the bottom, though he doesn’t feel the pressure now.
By allowing Jeong-dae’s soul to separate from his body, the novel posits that each individual person is much more than the sum of their physical parts. On a formal level, then, this section of the novel also demonstrates the power of language to change the narrative around violence, death, and loss.
Themes
As it gets dark, Jeong-dae’s soul climbs to the top of the pile, hoping to catch a glimpse of the moon. Slowly, he becomes aware of the presence of other souls, though none of these spirits have any language with which to identify or communicate with one another. Eventually, after coming into contact for a moment, the other souls all flit away.
Though Jeong-dae is able, through a literary trick, to communicate with readers, he cannot talk to the other murdered souls around him. Even as the novel points to the power of language, then, it also highlights the limits of verbal communication.
Themes
Upgrade to unlock the analysis and theme tracking for all of Human ActsHuman Acts!
Get LitCharts A+
Though the cosmology that Jeong-dae and Dong-ho seem to share makes room for a soul and a very tangible afterlife, neither Jeong-dae nor Dong-ho believes in a god-like figure (perhaps because the amount of violence they have witnessed has made them lose faith).
Themes
Get the entire Human Acts LitChart as a printable PDF.
Now, it is sunny, and the flies have begun to feed on the rotting corpses. Jeong-dae notices the ants crawling on his fingers. Jeong-dae tries to move, but he realizes that he is bound to this one spot. Jeong-dae also sees that he can sense who is still alive and who is dead—Dong-ho, he knows, is still alive. But Jeong-mi is dead, and the pain of that knowledge is so great that Jeong-dae screams, even without a tongue or voice.
This striking passage contrasts the truth of bodily vulnerability with the expansiveness of human feeling. On the one hand, Jeong-dae cannot stop his body from stinking or from falling prey to ants. But on the other hand, Jeong-dae finds a way to scream even without his tongue and vocal cords, suggesting that bodily ruin cannot tamper with emotional pain.
Themes
Jeong-dae now loses all sense of himself and his identity. He begins to feel rage, wondering why he and Jeong-mi have been so brutally murdered. Jeong-dae is desperate to find his sister, but he does not know how to locate her. Jeong-dae takes comfort in the idea that once his soul is removed from his body, he will be able to track down those who killed him.
Now, the body becomes a nuisance: instead of helping Jeong-dae accomplish his goals, his body only gets in the way of him finding his sister or his murderers. The idea that violence turns the body into a liability will recur many times throughout the narrative.
Themes
The truck arrives again at the same time as yesterday, bringing new bodies. With a start, Jeong-dae realizes the intense stench his pile of corpses has begun to give off. Jeong-dae senses new souls in this new crop of bodies, and he floats over to them. He feels jealous of a body that has been tended to, the wounds dressed. For the first time, Jeong-dae feels true hatred for his body.
The loathing Jeong-dae feels for the form that once nourished him is a tragedy in and of itself. But Jeong-dae’s desire for someone to tend to and clean his wounds is also a testament to the importance of Dong-ho’s work back at the gym—because of Dong-ho’s commitment to caring for the corpses, many souls will be spared the sense of isolation Jeong-dae now feels.
Themes
Jeong-dae wants to escape this present moment through dreams or memories. He thinks back to a time he stole a blackboard eraser from school and then left it on the windowsill to please Jeong-mi. Then, Jeong-dae recalls falling asleep next to his sister: how she would laugh as she drifted off, and how she would always touch his face before rolling over for the night. To keep himself sane, Jeong-dae focuses on every sensory detail of that night—the smell of Jeong-mi’s lotion, the sight of the hollyhocks outside, and the sensation of his face, which he knows Jeong-mi “had loved.”
This childhood memory of the blackboard eraser shows both the depth of care Jeong-dae had for his sister and the youthful innocence they both shared. Jeong-dae’s reflections also bring into focus the importance of mutual care: whether it is someone (likely Dong-ho’s mother) continuing to water the hollyhock or Jeong-mi holding her brother’s face, living beings depend on one another to feel “loved” and to survive.
Themes
Jeong-dae is desperate for more memories. He recalls summer nights he spent riding his bike and traveling to some nearby rice paddies. He tries to remember the taste of sweet potato, even when it burned his tongue. Then, Jeong-dae’s thoughts dissolve into poetry as his knowledge of the bleeding wound in his side replace his memories of wanting to be taller. All he can do to calm himself is think about finding the soldiers who killed him and demanding to know why.
For the first time, Jeong-dae explicitly contrasts the revivifying effect of memory—even of the most quotidian events—with the destruction of violence (as seen in his bleeding wound). In other words, memory gives wholeness and permanence to the very people and places the soldiers have worked so hard to harm. Jeong-dae’s desire to be taller is an especially poignant reminder of his youth—not so long ago, he wanted his body to be bigger rather than for his corporeal form to vanish entirely.
Themes
Time passes, undifferentiated by anything except the arrival of more and more bodies. Some of the bodies are completely mangled, while others are almost fully intact. One time, Jeong-dae sees a couple of bodies with the faces painted entirely white, probably to erase the dead peoples’ identities. He wonders if all these bodies were once protestors, packed onto the street alongside him. He recalls the moment of his death—Dong-ho was panicking, but Jeong-dae, though also afraid, just kept on singing the national anthem.
Jeong-dae can feel no strength or solidarity with the giant pile or bodies that surrounds him now. But when he was still alive, the crowd was a source of energy—perhaps dangerously so, as Jeong-dae struggled to retain a rational sense of caution in the swell of the national anthem.
Themes
The bodies at the bottom of the pile are the first to rot, and Jeong-dae’s own face becomes unrecognizable, the swelling erasing his “clear edges.” At the same time, however, Jeong-dae is getting better at recognizing the souls around him, differentiating between them even if he cannot identify each soul as a specific person. With more time, Jeong-dae wonders if the souls could figure out a way to understand each other, even in the absence of language.
In large groups, the novel will frequently suggest, individuals lose sight of their own personal values and limitations, blending entirely into the ethos of the whole. And here, the idea that Jeong-dae is losing his “clear edges” suggests that even in death, a large gathering blurs the boundaries between each unique, separate, person.
Themes
Unfortunately, one rainy day, the soldiers arrive earlier than usual. They throw more bodies onto the towers of corpses, gagging at the stench, and then cover all of the piles in petrol. The “fluttering” souls crowd together as the soldiers sparked their lighters. As Jeong-dae watches, the soldiers step back and set the entire clearing aflame.
The use of the word “fluttering” here, spoken by a dead soul himself, affirms all of Dong-ho’s suspicions about peoples’ bird-like souls.
Themes
As soon as the piles of bodies catch fire, Jeong-dae realizes that the only thing keeping his soul tied to this clearing is his physical body. As “the viscera hisse[s] and boil[s],” Jeong-dae’s soul slides over to two soldiers, taking in their dilated, frightened pupils and young faces. Jeong-dae wonders where to go. He wants to visit Jeong-mi, but he has no idea where her soul might be—though he hopes she is still waiting in the annex room they used to share.
In this fascinating passage, Jeong-dae realizes that he might have more in common with the soldiers than he initially thought. Just as he got swept up in a crowd, behaving with bravery and abandon he might not have had on his own, the youthful soldiers have lost similar track of themselves. The mention of the “hiss[ing]” and “boil[ing]” body parts here again forces readers to contend with the gruesome realities of mass death.
Themes
Instead, Jeong-mi decides to go visit “you,” meaning Dong-ho—he is certain Dong-ho will still be asleep in the house they used to share. But before Jeong-dae can make the journey, he hears a terrifying scream. Jeong-dae looks at the sky, where the flares from guns are lighting up the night. Somehow, he knows Dong-ho has been killed. Though he wants to find Dong-ho’s soul and guide him through his new existence, Jeong-dae now thinks that task is impossibly daunting.
On a plot level, this moment is crucial: Dong-ho’s death at the hands of the soldiers returning to Gwangju will shape every chapter to come. But this is also an important scene on a formal level—by referring to Dong-ho as “you” as he dies, Jeong-dae makes it clear that he is telling this story to and for Dong-ho, telegraphing his care and (pre-emptively) preserving his friend’s memory.
Themes
