She is like the wild child raised by tigers, I heard them say to each other. Physically human but able to speak only in the language of animals. They were kind and praised me when I responded to simple commands they issued in Japanese: sit, eat, sleep. Had they asked, I would also have responded to “close mouth” and “open legs”. At the camps where the Japanese called us Jungun Ianfu, military comfort women, we were taught only whatever was necessary to service the soldiers. Other than that, we were not expected to understand and were forbidden to speak any language at all. Akiko, Nora Okja Keller’s Comfort Woman, Chapter 2.
On August 14, 1991, Kim Hak-sun, a former Korean comfort woman, broke her silence for the first time during a press conference, recounting her ordeal as a survivor of the Japanese military sexual slavery system. During her speech, she expressed deep frustration over the injustice she endured and how she was unfairly blamed, emphasising, “I am a victim and a witness”. Her televised testimony encouraged other former comfort women to find the strength to step forward and share their own painful stories and experiences with the world.
My first exposure to the issue of Korean Comfort Women came from watching Episode 13 of the K-drama Tomorrow starring Rowoon, Lee Soo-hyuk, Yoon Ji-on, Kim Hee-sun, Kim Yong-rim, and Kim Young-ok. The drama’s portrayal of the suffering of these women ignited in me a desire to learn more about what the comfort women system was about, leading me to discover, among other scholarly writings, memoirs, and literary works on the topic, Nora Okja Keller’s novel titled Comfort Woman. Nora Okja Keller is a Korean-American writer known for exploring the long-lasting effects of war on women in her works. Originally from Seoul, Korea, she lives in Hawaii with her husband and two daughters. Keller was among the first authors to address the issue of comfort women, gaining recognition for her novel Comfort Woman, which won the American Book Award in 1998 and the Elliot Cades Award in 1999. In addition to Comfort Woman, she has authored Fox Girl and Mother Tongue, which earned her the Pushcart Prize for a short story in 1995.
Keller’s novel Comfort Woman centres on the life of Akiko, also known as Kim Soon Hyo, a young Korean woman who was sold into sexual slavery in Japanese “recreation camps” during World War II by her eldest sister. After the war, she emigrated to Honolulu, Hawaii, with her American missionary husband, whom she married to facilitate her escape from Japan. The story is conveyed through flashbacks and alternating perspectives between Akiko and her daughter, Beccah, highlighting the long-term impact of Akiko’s experiences as a former comfort woman. It explores her efforts to suppress the emotional scars of her past and the effects it had on her relationship with her daughter.
As someone pursuing a career in women’s studies and post-conflict peacebuilding, Keller’s Comfort Woman reminded me of the importance of centring diverse women’s voices and experiences in peacebuilding and reconstruction efforts. The novel offered me valuable insights into the long-term impact of wartime sexual violence on women and girls and the politics of silence that often surrounds it. Through Akiko’s and Beccah’s stories, I gained a profound insight into how trauma can be passed down across generations, shaping family dynamics and affecting the emotional well-being of both those who experienced the trauma first-hand and their children. For instance, all through the novel, we see how Akiko’s war trauma impacted her quality of life and her relationship with her daughter Beccah, who, in turn, grew up feeling disconnected from her mother and resented her for being strange and emotionally distant. After Akiko’s death and the revelation of her past as a comfort woman, Beccah was forced to re-examine her understanding of her mother, confronting the unsettling realisation that she had known her only in part. She also wrestled with the difficulty of accepting that her mother could have endured such profound trauma, stating at one point in the novel:
I could not view my mother, whom I had always seen as weak and vulnerable, as one of “the comfort women” she described. Even though I heard her call out “Akiko”, the name she had answered to all my life, I could not imagine her surviving what she described, for I cannot imagine myself surviving. How could my mother have married, had a child, if she had been forced into the camp? – Beccah, Nora Okja Keller’s Comfort Woman, Chapter 17.
The novel also revealed that while some girls, such as Akiko, were able to survive and forge new lives for themselves, they remained haunted by the traumatic memories of the war and their experience as comfort women. I loved how the author portrayed Akiko’s mental struggles, including her dissociation, hallucinations, and the difficulty she faced in talking about her past with her daughter, who was the most important person in her life. This depiction gave me a deeper understanding of the lasting impact of war trauma and the challenge of living with such profound pain while feeling unable to express or address it. One important lesson I learned from the novel is that peace, justice, reconciliation, and healing can only truly begin when silenced voices are heard, acknowledged, empowered, and given the space to share their stories without fear or shame.
Another significant theme explored by Keller in her novel is the gender dynamics prevalent in traditional Korean society, especially the preference for male children over female ones. The novel also shows how women can sometimes reinforce patriarchal values and perpetuate discrimination against other women, as seen through Akiko’s older sister, who often made Akiko feel inferior due to her being female. In contrast, Akiko defies these patriarchal and Confucian expectations by ensuring her daughter Beccah enjoys the same benefits as male children. One of these was celebrating Beccah’s hundredth day with a special ceremony, reflecting a vital tradition in Korean culture. In the novel, Keller also uses Beccah’s character to explore the impact of cultural upbringing on gender dynamics. Raised in a different cultural context, Beccah is less constrained by the gender expectations in her family’s heritage and the broader societal norms of the Korean society depicted in the novel, including one wherein women were taught to believe that the loss of their innocence was worse than death itself, as we could see Beccah involved in different sexual relationships. This cultural difference also gave Beccah a sense of independence and self-determination that might not have been as readily available to her had she been raised in Korea.
Comfort Woman is a fantastic novel that I highly recommend because it sheds light on the issue of comfort women, an essential yet often overlooked topic in Korean history and global politics in general, particularly in discussions on the impact of war on society. Overall, this book is a must-read for anyone interested in exploring or deepening their understanding of Korea because it addresses several important themes relevant to contemporary Korean society.