Broken Summer

The language of women accustomed to violence was silence and lies.

He was one of those people who hid his pain because he didn’t believe he would be comforted if he showed his wounds.

Hanjo longed for someone to pat him on the shoulder and say it would be OK. But his father was in jail, his mother had collapsed drunk, and his brother didn’t have the guts for it all. He realized in this moment that he was the only one able to comfort himself. He closed his eyes tightly, squeezing back the tears, and hugged himself.

Adults were infinitely weak in the face of pain. They tortured each other in the dark in odd ways, then fell into a short sleep when they were exhausted.

Alcohol was not a solution to the problem but a way of forgetting it, and it was the most wretched way of life he knew—or, rather, a way of death.

Hanjo did not blame her. His mother was not a weak or irresponsible woman. Her burden was so heavy that she just didn’t have the energy to take care of her children. When he thought of his mother’s vulnerability, his heart broke, and when he thought of his mother’s helplessness, he felt pity.

When a child has a problem, parents always look for a good explanation or reason. But here, they couldn’t grasp the issue itself: that a child without a problem is a problem.

He was suddenly surprised at how many things his wife had done for him. Had her own life faded away because she was bearing his life on her back like a scraggy mule?

Hidden power structures are more severe and lethal than visible hierarchies.

She was always there for him when he needed her, when he wanted her. It was only now his wife had disappeared that he realized he knew nothing about her.

straight ahead, he gave the impression of being a man who didn’t need good luck. Therefore, he appeared to be an exception to the rule, an independent person far removed from the laws governing the world at large. His photo in the newspaper looked strange and awkward. “It looks light, childish,” he said. “It’s not me, just an image of me