Sometimes I trip over the most wonderful things...this time it's
The Ginseng Hunter by Jeff Talarigo. It's his second book; the first was
The Pearl Diver, which I haven't read. Yet.
This is a small book, in a number of ways. It's under 180 pages. There are only a few primary characters, and we don't get to know their names - they are the girl, the man with the truck, the guard. The only two characters who have names, share the same false name - and all the other women in their place of business - are all called Miss Wong.
The narrator is a ginseng hunter who lives on a small farm on the Tumen River. The river is the border between China and Kim Jung Il's North Korea. The story talks about the people who attempt to escape across the river to his side, to China, and about what happens on the Chinese side (do we hide these people? Do we feed them? If we feed them they will never leave. Did you hear, one family fed them, only to be shot in their beds. You can sell them back to the guards...or you can feed them, hide them.)
This is one of those books I want to own. I need to read it again for the writing, and again for the story. The writing is absolutely breathtaking. At times it reminded me of etching on glass, it was so clear and so perfect. One passage I had to read three times before going on.
Here is a selection from a page picked pretty much at random. The ginseng hunter has just bought a puppy, and in the description of the transaction the author tells us all we need to know about the local economy.
She closes the lid of the box, clasping the money tightly in her hands;she begins to fold the bills in half, and half again, doing so until they are in compact squares. She pays no attention to me as she lights a candle, tilting it over the small square of bills, not much larger than a coin.
The hot wax drips onto the bills, drop after drop until they have a double coating. While the wax cools, the old woman opens a bottle of water. She then places the waxed bills in her mouth and swallows them with the water. I don't know what to say; I turn my eyes to the dogs, one of which is mine.
I would write more but I have to go to the library for
The Pearl Diver. If they don't have it, the bookstore is just a mile in the other direction.
