Nothing to Envy: Chapter 14 Summary & Analysis

Jun-sang and Mi-ran’s relationship began to buckle under the strain of being unable to confide in one another. Though in the past, they’d spent hours gossiping and talking about the small, ordinary things in their lives, Jun-sang now felt he couldn’t confide in Mi-ran about his anti-regime sentiments. Not only was he afraid of jeopardizing himself—but he didn’t want to tell Mi-ran what he’d learned, putting her in a position of having to teach her students about the glory of the regime while knowing, in the back of her mind, about the atrocities it committed each day. Jun-sang had stayed on in a research capacity at his university following graduation, and he saw Mi-ran only twice a year. They were both in their mid-20s now, and their relationship was changing.

Jun-sang didn’t know how to approach the idea of a future with Mi-ran. He couldn’t imagine himself married to anyone but her—but he knew that if they wed, his chances of joining the Workers’ Party would be ruined. Privately, he wondered if the regime—which he now knew to be, in essence, the last of its kind except for Cuba—would crumble soon, or whether war would break out. Thinking about marriage seriously was too stressful with such things in mind, yet he mourned the idea of abandoning his relationship with Mi-ran.

Mi-ran had marriage on the brain. Two of her sisters were already married with children, and most of her friends were engaged. Mi-ran knew that if she and Jun-sang married, life would be extremely hard and hostile for them both because of her beulsun. Mi-ran was also worried about her job—she had only 15 students as opposed to the standard 50—and her father Tae-woo’s failing health. Just before Tae-woo passed in 1997, he begged his children to inform his family back in South Korea of his death. Mi-ran and her siblings had no idea how to contact their relatives in South Korea—but one day, Mi-ran’s sister So-hee came home, breathless, with an idea: they could sneak into China with the help of one of her friends. There, they could use a telephone to call their distant family.

After a long conversation, it was decided that Mi-ran, So-hee, their younger brother Sok-ju, and their mother would make the trip together. They planned for weeks, all the while working to maintain an appearance of normalcy. Though Mi-ran’s family had never been the most loyal to the regime, they still feared jeopardizing their relatively stable position and harming those closest to them. The night before leaving, Mi-ran unwrapped a packet of letters she’d kept from Jun-sang over the years and destroyed them. Mi-ran knew that though the trip was supposed to be a quick one, there was a chance she would never return. She told herself that even if she never saw Jun-sang again, he would be better off without her.

The next morning, Mi-ran and her siblings left their apartment one by one. Their mother stopped by a neighbor’s house to tell them that she was headed off to help one of her older daughters with her children for a couple of weeks, hoping to buy them some time before anyone noticed they were missing. In Chongjin, Mi-ran and her sister met up and headed on foot to meet So-hee’s friend who would transport them to the border. As Mi-ran walked through the main thoroughfare of Chongjin, she thought she spied Jun-sang across the street. It didn’t make sense for him to be there this time of year. She wasn’t even sure if it was really him. Nonetheless, she was tempted to rush across the street and say goodbye—but she knew that doing so would put the entire plan in jeopardy. She looked away and walked on.

After bribing his way to the border, So-hee’s friend with the truck dropped Mi-ran and her family at the Tumen river late at night. They crossed at different points to lower their chances of being caught together—which would be evidence of premeditated defection, a crime worthy of terrible punishment. Mi-ran waded across the river alone, terrified but determined to press on. When she reached the other side, she found herself alone in a dark field. Soon, however, she heard Sok-ju calling out for her. She reached out her hand—within moments, he stumbled over and grasped it. They had escaped.