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Peach Heaven by Yangsook Choi

Jul9

Picture Book Around the World: Reading Through Korea I’m working hard on my Picture Book Around the World sequel to Picture Book Preschool, my preschool read aloud curriculum for homeschooling your preschooler or kindergartner. This week at Semicolon, we’re going to be visiting Korea through the medium of a treasure trove of picture books featuring that country and its children.

The setting is Puchon, South Korea, 1976. Yangsook is day-dreaming about a peach garden in heaven–just like the calendar picture of children playing in a peach orchard that is posted above her desk. Puchon is famous for growing beautiful, juicy peaches that are sold all over Korea.

The voices of her grandma and her little brother come intruding into Yangsook’s daydream, telling her to come and look at the rain which has turned to hail. But it’s not hail—it’s raining peaches!

There were a couple of oddities in this story, which is actually based on a childhood memory of the author. First of all, I’ve never heard of peaches raining down from the sky, but I’m willing to suspend disbelief. But the other odd scene is when the the townsfolk bring the peaches back to the farmers’ orchards and tie them to the trees with yarn. Why? To console the farmers for the loss of most of their peach crop. I suppose it made a good visual image to tie the peaches to the trees, but it seems rather superfluous in practical terms.

Anyway, I doubt children will have the same questions that I did. Instead, they will most likely enjoy this quiet little story of a girl growing up in South Korea and an memorable episode in her childhood. The watercolor illustrations, which were done by the author, complement the story and its mood quite well.

The Firekeeper’s Son by Linda Sue Park

Jul8

Picture Book Around the World: Reading Through Korea

“We live in an important village,” Sang-hee’s father said.

The village doesn’t look very important to Sang-hee. However, it is a special place because Sang-hee’s father climbs the mountain near the coastal village in Korea every evening to light the watchfire. Then the firekeeper on the next mountain sees the fire that signals that everything is peaceful, no invaders, and he lights his fire as a signal to the next firekeeper and so on, all the way to the king’s palace in central Korea. The king sees the series of mountaintop watchfires and knows that his kingdom is safe.

If there is no fire, it means that the kingdom of Korea is in danger, and the king will send brave, noble soldiers to defend the land. Sang-hee knows the importance of peace in the land but wishes he could see the king’s soldiers just once. What will Sang-hee do when one night the watchfire doesn’t appear?

In an Author’s Note at the end of the book, Newbery medalist Linda Sue Park says that the bonfire signal system was used in Korea up until the late nineteenth century to protect the land from invasion. The actual system of fires was more complicated and extensive than the simple chain of watchfires presented in this picture book, but as a vehicle for character development and for conveying some information about the history and culture of Korea, the “firekeeper system” is a friendly and constructive image.

Sang-hee finds himself in a situation where he must decide whether to take responsibility and live up to his position as the firekeeper’s son, or to indulge his own fantasies at the expense of developing his character. It’s a decision that all of us, both children and adults, face frequently.

Julie Downing’s watercolor paintings bring out the colors and beauty of early nineteenth century Korea for those of us (me sometimes) who tend to think of the past in shades of gray. One illustration in particular (pages 18-19) is all purples and greens and yellows with a stunning late evening feel to it as Sang-hee and his mother look to the mountain and realize that something is wrong because the evening watchfire has not been lit.

Linda Sue Park is an exceptionally talented Korean American author who won the Newbery Award for her historical fiction novel, A Single Shard. She’s written several other books for young adults and middle grade readers, including Seesaw Girl, The Kite Fighters, A Long Walk to Water, and Keeping Score. Other picture books by Ms. Park include The Third Gift, a Christmas story about where the wise men may have gotten the gift of myrrh, and Bee-Bim Bop!, a book about a family cooking rice Korean-style.

The Twelve Little Cakes by Dominika Dery

Jul5

I have had this memoir on my TBR shelf for a long time, but I finally got the urge to go ahead and read it when Brown Bear Daughter left about a week ago to go back to Slovakia for her third summer mission trip there. Dominika Dery’s memoir of her childhood lived under Communist rule in a village on the outskirts of Prague, Czechoslovakia, obviously doesn’t take place in Slovakia, but rather in the Czech Republic. However, it’s as close as I can get right now. (Does anyone know a really good book, fiction or memoir, set in Slovakia?)

Dominika grew up in a loving home with her mother, a writer of technical reports, and her father, a former economist who is now a taxi-driver, and her much-older sister, who comes across mostly as a spoiled brat and a world-class flirt. Dominika herself seems to be somewhat spoiled, but not a brat. The parents are dissidents associated with the 1968 failed “revolution” called the Prague Spring, which ended when the Russians invaded to stop the reforms of Communism that were being instituted in Czechoslovakia. As a result of their complicity in the Prague Spring reforms, Dominika’s parents are consigned to low level jobs and constantly in danger of being denounced to the political authorities.

Dominika, born in 1975, slowly becomes aware over the course of her childhood of her parents’ political predicament, but she nevertheless remembers a mostly idyllic childhood enlivened by the resilient optimism of her father and the style and panache of her beautiful mother. Even when the family goes on vacation to Poland of all places and the car breaks down because some corrupt mechanic replaced the working engine with a defective one, Dominika and her parents manage to have a good and memorable holiday under ostensibly trying circumstances.

I think I’ll loan this book to Dancer Daughter(23) because of the Czech setting (she’s been to Slovakia a couple of times, too) and also because Dominika spends a lot of her childhood studying to become a dancer. The story of how she gets into a dance school that normally excludes the children of dissidents and only admits children whose parents have Communist Party connections is fascinating, and Dominika’s indomitable spirit is sure to charm the readers of her memoir.

The book ends in 1985 when Dominika was only ten years old. But it seems an appropriate place to stop. Dominika has been accepted to study at the State Conservatory in Prague. Her parents are still stuck in political limbo, but there is some stirring of hope for the future. Things are beginning to change, with the Solidarity movement in Poland and Mikhail Gorbachev‘s rise to power in the Soviet Union. In November-December 1989, The Velvet or Gentle Revolution restored democracy in Czechoslovakia. In 1993, Czechoslovakia became two separate nations, the Czech Republic and Slovakia.

From an adult looking back at childhood point of view, Dominika Dery sees things this way:

“This was the country of little cakes and sausages. This is the memory of my childhood. Driving back home in our old, rusty Skoda; my father’s big hands steering us safely through the night; the soft touch of my mother’s hand on my head. This was the happiest time in my life. The time when we had no money, no choice and no chance.

It would take me another eighteen years to realize that what we had back then was as much as anyone on earth would ever need.

We had each other, and plenty of love in our hearts.”

Twelve Little Cakes by Dominika Dery was recommended by Kerry at Shelf Elf.

Speaking from Among the Bones by Alan Bradley

Jul2

This latest entry in the series about 11 year old Flavia deLuce, girl chemist and intrepid solver of mysteries, features a satisfying story and a surprising ending. These books should definitely be read in order:

The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie
The Weed that Strings the Hangman’s Bag
A Red Herring Without Mustard
I Am Half-Sick of Shadows
Speaking From Among the Bones
The Dead In Their Vaulted Arches (due out January, 2014)

However, I think I missed the fourth book somehow, and I still enjoyed this fifth one. In Speaking from Among the Bones, Flavia is determined to make her presence known when the authorities unearth the bones of Bishop Lacey’s resident saint, St. Tancred, who’s been dead for 500 years. But before the assembled company get to the bones of St. Tancred, there’s another, more modern, corpse to be disinterred. And Flavia is off on another investigation into chemistry and death in the 1950’s village near her ancestral home of Buckshaw where Flavia performs experiments in her great-uncle Tarquin DeLuce’s marvelous and well-stocked laboratory.

As the series continues, we realize more and more that our first impressions of Flavia’s family of her village friends, seen exclusively through Flavia’s own peculiar 11 year old filter, may not be entirely accurate. It’s a voyage of discovery, as Flavia realizes that perhaps her father has depths that are beyond her understanding and that perhaps her sisters Daffy and Feely do love her in their own ways, and that perhaps the other village people, both friends and enemies, are more multi-dimensional than she may have led us to believe initially. I really like this aspect of gradually opening up relationships and characters through the eyes of a very opinionated and somewhat precocious child. It’s a lovely way to show characters in all their messiness, especially with the added dimension of murder and mayhem to solve and resolve in each of the books.

Good series, and I was totally blindsided by the ending of this installment in the series–not the solution of the murder mystery, but rather an astonishing and unexpected development in Flavia’s own personal family life that sets us up for an interesting sixth book, due out in January 2014.

The Rosemary Tree by Elizabeth Goudge

Jun20

I have read very few authors with as much insight into the feelings and thought processes of men, women, and children as Elizabeth Goudge. The Rosemary Tree is remarkable in its treatment of characters who are all somewhat broken (as are we all), but who fall on a continuum from repentant to ineffectual to struggling to wise to completely evil. And the character who is represented as utterly irredeemable, because she doesn’t want to be forgiven or changed, might be the character you least suspect.

It all seems very true to life. (By the way that’s an awful cover, but the others I saw at Amazon weren’t any better. I don’t know why the people are wearing what looks like Elizabethan or Edwardian costumes. The story takes place in the twentieth century, after World War II.) The main characters in this little vignette of village life are:

John Wentworth, a bumbling and diffident country parson who sees himself as a weak man and a failure who can never get anything quite right.

“He took off his coat, rolled up his shirt-sleeves, lifted up to Almighty God the magnitude of his failure and the triviality of his task, and applied himself to the latter. The hot water warmed his cold hands and the pile of cleansed china grew satisfactorily on the draining-board. There was a pleasure in getting things clean. Small beauties slid one by one into his consciousness, quietly and unobtrusively, like growing light. The sinuous curves of Orlando the marmalade cat, washing himself on the window-sill, the comfortable sound of ash settling in the stove, a thrush singing somewhere, the scent of Daphne’s geraniums, the gold of the crocuses that were growing round the trunk of the apple tree outside the kitchen window.”

Others see him as Don Quixote, the Man of la Mancha.

Daphne Wentworth, John’s wife, is much more competent than her husband, but also full of pride and thwarted ambitions from her youth.

The couple have three children: Pat, who is like her mother, competent and intelligent and sharp, Margary, who is more like John, dreamy and vulnerable, and Winkle, who is the baby of the family, but wise with the innocence of childhood.

Harriet lives upstairs in the Wentworth parsonage, and she is wise with the wisdom of many years of experience, first as John’s nanny, then as the parsonage housekeeper, and now as a retired pray-er and watcher over the entire household.

“They all said they could not do without her. In the paradoxical nature of things if she could have believed them she would have been a much happier woman, but not the same woman whom they could not do without.”

Maria Wentworth, John’s great-aunt, lives in Belmaray Manor and keeps pigs.

Young Mary O’Hara, Irish and full of vitality, and Miss Giles, middle-aged, bitter, and full of frustrations, both teach school at the small private school that the Wentworth girls attend. Mary’s aunt, Mrs. Belling, “was a very sweet woman and had been a very beautiful one.” She is headmistress of the little school, where all three girls are quite unhappy, each in her own way.

Into this mix comes a stranger, Michael Stone, who is weighed down by many, many real failures and sins and who comes to Devonshire where the story takes place not so much for redemption as simply for a place to go, perhaps to hide from the world. Michael will find more than he’s looking for, and the other characters in this novel will change and grow as a result of Michael’s presence and the truth he brings into their lives.

Elizabeth Goudge really has written a lovely novel. Apparently, The Times criticized its “slight plot” and “sentimentally ecstatic” approach when the book was first published in 1956. I’ll admit the story is a bit short on action, but the descriptions of how and what people think and feel more than makes up for any deficiency in fictional exploits.

Sidenote/detour: While looking for more information about Elizabeth Goudge, I found this article about an Indian author, Indrani Aikath-Gyaltsen, who plagiarized from The Rosemary Tree in her 1993 Cranes’ Morning. In fact, aside from changing the setting to India, the names of the characters to Indian ones, and the religion to Hinduism, Ms. Aikath-Gyaltsen copied much of Goudge’s novel word-for-word. It took about a year for the plagiarism to be noticed and confirmed, and in the meantime Indrani Aikath-Gyaltsen died, probably committing suicide. Sad story.

I wonder what Elizabeth Goudge, who died in 1984, would have thought about it all?

Not to end this review of and homage to Ms. Goudge’s agreeable novel on such a sad note, I’ll leave you with one more quote:

“The way God squandered Himself had always hurt her; and annoyed her, too. The sky full of wings and only the shepherds awake. That golden voice speaking and only a few fishermen there to hear; and perhaps some of the words He spoke carried away on the wind or lost in the sound of the waves lapping against the side of the boat. A thousand blossoms shimmering over the orchard, each a world of wonder all to itself, and then the whole thing blown away on a south-west gale as though the delicate little worlds were of no value at all. Well, of all the spendthrifts, she would think, and then pull herself up. It was not for her to criticize the ways of Almighty God; if He liked to go to all that trouble over the snowflakes, millions and millions of them, their intricate patterns too small to be seen by human eyes, and melting as soon as made, that was His affair and not hers.”

I like the idea of God as a spendthrift, creating beauty for the sheer joy of it all whether there’s anyone there to perceive it or not. Isn’t there a poem based on that idea? Maybe Emily Dickinson?

IRIS (1), K-Drama Review

Jun19

'Byung- Hun Lee' photo (c) 2013, Eva Rinaldi - license: http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/I just finished the final (20th) episode of the K-drama, IRIS, last night, and it was indeed a roller coaster of a television series. IRIS is a spy thriller with LOTS of violence. Engineer Husband, who heard the show’s soundtrack coming from my Kindle as I watched, commented that there certainly was a lot of gunfire. I could have told him, but didn’t, that there was also a lot of blood, gore, and death in the program. I think as a movie in the U.S. it would get an “R” rating just for the violence.

So why did I continue to watch? Well, the characters were fascinating. Best friends Kim Hyun-Jun (Lee Byung-hun) and Jin Sa-Woo (Jung Joon-ho) are training to become some kind of Special Forces soldiers in the South Korean Army when they are recruited to become part of NSS, a fictional counterpart to American CIA (although Korea does have an NIS, National Intelligence Service which is similar to the NSS portrayed in the TV show). During the recruitment process they both, unbeknownst to the other, meet and fall in love with Choi Seung-Hee (Kim Tae-hee), who is already an NSS agent. Hyun-Jun is the one who finds that his affection is returned by Seung-Hee.

'Kim tae hee 1' photo (c) 2010, Rashaine - license: http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/The remainder of the series finds Hyun-Jun and Seung-Hee and Sa-Woo weaving in and out of alliances and (violent) confrontations as they work within and without NSS to fight against the super-powerful, super-secretive, evil IRIS organization. The three fellow agents encounter traitors within NSS and unusual alliances, specifically with North Korean agent Kim Seon-hwa (Kim So-yeon), outside. There’s also some doubt about whether Hyun-Jun, Seung-Hee, and Sa-Woo are traitors allied with IRIS themselves at any given time during the series.

The themes of the series seem to be enduring love and loyalty, friendship, and the legacy of violence. Hyun-Jun is a conflicted character, believing himself betrayed by his own country, but also in love with Seung-Hee who is a part of the organization that betrayed him. The violence is the series intensifies over the course of the twenty episodes, and Hyun-Jun becomes as much a perpetrator as a victim. All of the characters, in fact, are caught up in a spiral of violence, and Hyun-Jun at least is not sure what it all means or why he does what he does. Is he seeking revenge? Maybe. Is he trying to protect Seung-Hee? To some extent. But he says a couple of times something to the effect, “I didn’t join NSS to do good or to be patriotic. I just wanted to enjoy doing something that I do well.” He’s good at “spy stuff”, so he takes up the invitation to join NSS. In doing so, he places himself in a web of violence and deceit that can only be unravelled or ended by more death and bloodshed.

Matthew 26:52 “Put your sword back in its place,” Jesus said to him, “for all who draw the sword will die by the sword.”

I found IRIS fascinating, even though it had a few dropped plot threads and holes. And, warning, the ending is horrid, although maybe appropriate in both its ambiguity and tragedy. The filmography is beautiful, with scenes taking place mostly in Seoul, but also in Japan and in Hungary. There is a second season of IRIS, with different actors for the most part, but I’m not sure it will be worth all the blood and bullets that must be waded through in this series. I would recommend season 1 for those who don’t mind the violence (and some strongly implied premarital cohabitation).

Headmistress, Common Room reviews IRIS and does an episode-by-episode recap.

Book Tag: Asia Picture Books

Jun18

It’s time for Book Tag again. The rules are:

“In this game, readers suggest a good book in the category given, then let somebody else be “it” before they offer another suggestion. There is no limit to the number of books a person may suggest, but they need to politely wait their turn with only one book suggestion per comment.”

I’ve been working on a follow-up to my Picture Book Preschool curriculum (for several years I’ve been working, ruefully), called Picture Book Around the World. How about you all help me out by suggesting picture books set in Asia today?

I’ll start us off with one of my favorite authors of picture books set in Japan, Allen Say. Mr. Say’s Bicycle Man tells the story of two American soldiers, immediately after World War II, who entertain Japanese children in a schoolyard by doing tricks on a bicycle.

Allen Say was born in Yokohama, Japan, in 1937. He now lives in the United States, and he both writes and illustrates children’s picture books. Most of his stories are either set in Japan or feature Japanese American characters.

What picture books set in Asia can you suggest for this edition of book tag?

There Is No Me Without You by Melissa Fay Greene

Jun9

In case you hadn’t noticed ther is a LOT of controversy going on these days about international adoption, especially adoptions by U.S. parent of Ethiopian, Liberian, and other African children. Lots of agencies and groups involved in these adoptions are being accused of child-trafficking, stealing children from their parents and extended families to feed an American “obsession” with adoption. In fact, journalist Kathryn Joyce has recently published a book called The Child Catchers which seems to imply, or maybe state outright, that all international adoptions are suspect and akin to child abuse and kidnapping, especially those where the children are adopted into evangelical Christian families.

Melissa Fay Greene’s book, published in 2006, tells the story of one Ethiopian woman, Haregewoin Teferra, and the ups and downs of her “odyssey to rescue Africa’s children.” Ms. Greene also writes about the AIDs crisis in Ethiopia and in Africa, the political situation in Ethiopia, the ethics and difficulties and joys of Ethiopian adoption, and the difficulties of running an impromptu, under-funded, and unregulated orphanage. The book feels balanced and honest.

The best thing about this book is that Ms. Greene, although she obviously admires Haregewoin Teferra, does not idolize her. This journalistic trek through the back alleys of Addis Ababa and the orphanages and adoption agencies of Ethiopia is no hagiographic tribute to Haregewoin, even though she is the central character. It is instead a realistic picture of one woman who tries to help the orphans who are brought to her door, who sometimes makes mistakes, and who ends up helping some and being unable to help others.

“I would watch Haregewoin’s reputation rise and fall like sunrise and sunset. As she blended her life with the lives of people ruined by the pandemic, she became a nobody, like them. Then, she began to be seen as a saint. Then some cried, ‘hey! This is no saint!’ and accused her of corruption. Or maybe she started out as a saint, became a tyrant, then became a saint again. Or was it the reverse? THe story line hanged. But in ever account, no middle ground was allotted to Haregewoin: either she was all good, or she had gone bad. Those who watched, judged her.
Zewedu, her old friend, saw who Haregewoin was: an average person, muddling through a bad time, with a little more heart than most for the people around her who were suffering and half an eye cocked toward her own preservation. But most observers failed to reach this matter-of-fact point of view, and Ato Zewedu probably would not live much longer.
But then I heard, to my delight, that some people say even Mother Teresa herself was no Mother Teresa.”

This. Yes. We are all complicated, sinful, sometimes grace-filled, selfish, well-meaning, compassionate, but also unobservant, people. Some of us manage, by God’s grace, to do something kind and loving for someone else, even for many others, like the orphans Haregewoin helped. Somehow we muddle through and maybe do more good than harm. And God uses our poorest efforts and our mixed motives to serve Him and to serve others and to bring about His will.

If you are considering an international adoption, if you know someone who has adopted children from another country, if you just want to understand the complexities of adoption from the point of view of an adoptive mother and a journalist, read this book. Then read the articles I’ve linked to below for all kind of opinions and stories about international adoption. Some are horror stories; others are stories that inspire hope and sympathy. It’s complicated, but the complications shouldn’t paralyze us.

If God brings an orphan to your door, what can you do but open your home and your heart and let him in somehow?

Orphan Fever: The Evangelical Movement’s Adoption Obsession in Mother Jones magazine.

Evangelicals and Foreign Adoption by Maralee Bradley at Mere Orthodoxy.

Ethiopian Adoption: An Informal Guide by Melissa Fay Greene.

The Common Room and Adoption Advice.

International Adoptions Struggle for Hollywood Endings

Child Sponsorship instead of Adoption.

Links and Thinks: June 4, 2013

Jun4

'Book Exchange' photo (c) 2012, oatsy40 - license: http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/Telephone booth transformed into a library. What a wonderfully British idea! I wish I had a telephone booth to metamorphose into a little library.

June 4th is Aesop’s Day.

Also, on June 4, 1989, approximately 300-800 Chinese students and others died. Do you know what happened on this date?

Paris Books for Kids. Chapter books set in Paris, and picture books set in Paris. I love lists like this one. In fact, I’d really like to publish a follow-up to my Picture Book Preschool curriculum, called Picture Book Around the World.

Traditional Marriage Movement Sweeps through France. Who would have thought? “Their mouths overflow with the words ‘equality of man and woman.’ But why should marriage not be a place of equality, too, so that a child will be raised by man and woman? What a strange idea!”

Must Be a K-Thing

May6

In the K-dramas (Korean TV) I’ve been watching, I’ve noticed certain repeated idiosyncrasies and bits of business that show up over and over. All of these things seem odd to my American sensibilities, but I suppose they’re normal in Korea, or at least on Korean TV.

1. Nosebleeds. In a crisis or sometimes at the most inconvenient times, the lead actor or actress gets a nosebleed. I don’t think I’ve ever seen an American actor with a nosebleed. Koreans must have sensitive noses.

2. Sticking out the tongue. In the U.S., five year olds taunt each other by sticking out their tongues. Much older than that, and it just isn’t done. Kim Na Na (yes, that’s her name) sticks out her tongue at Lee Yoon Sung in City Hunter. The serious and mature Hang Ah sticks out her tongue at the very immature Prince Jae Ha in The King 2 Hearts. Korean girls poke fun by sticking out their tongues at the young man they’re flirting/sparring with? (Headmistress at THe Common Room: “Our experience in living in Japan and visiting Korea is that Asians really like cute a lot. It’s not just for kids.”) See #8 for more examples of the “cuteness” dealio.

3. Short skirts and high heels. All of the young ladies are quite chaste for the most part, no passionate kissing or PDA or cleavage, but they wear really, really short skirts and high heels all the time, even when a girl is running away from the bad guy. It looks uncomfortable to me–and bad policy if you’re trying to make a quick getaway. Sometimes the leading lady falls off her heels, or the shoe breaks, which may lead to:

4. The twisted or sprained ankle. This sort of accident, apparently very common in the course of a Korean romance, causes the hero, or sometimes the heroine, to come to the rescue with bandages and sympathy. If not a twisted ankle, some other bump or bruise can provide an opportunity for romantic first aid.

5. Romantic flashbacks: Lots of flashbacks with music to romantic moments between the couple who are fated to be together but can’t quite seem to get together. Sometimes it’s a montage of several near-miss and sentimental incidents. Sometimes they’re playing in a fountain or a park, or the girl falls asleep with the guy gently moving a strand of her hair away from her face. But these flashback moments all have in common that they are taken out of context. Usually, the interlude ended in a misunderstanding or a fight, but the reminiscing person never remembers that part.

6. Cellphones. Cellphones are ubiquitous in all the K-dramas I’ve watched. Yeah, I know they are pretty common here in the U.S., but the K-drama characters take it to another level. In Queen Inhyun’s Man, the cell phone becomes almost a central character or Hitchcockian MacGuffin.

7. Spunky girls and rude guys. I think the spunky girl with martial arts skilz would work in a U.S. romantic comedy or drama, but the rude guy who turns out to be sweet and honorable underneath would be outa there in a New York minute.

8. Piggyback rides. Really, grown-up guys are frequently giving their significant other lovely lady a piggyback ride. It seems . . . odd, but kind of cute. Other romantic situations in K-dramas: falling asleep on the guy’s couch (or shoulder), riding a two-seater bicycle together, running through a fountain, feeding each other (preferably feeding each other Ramen).

9. Actors as main characters and “play within a play”. Queen Inhyun’s Man is about an actress who is playing Queen Inhyun in an historical drama. In the series called The Greatest Love Doko Jin is an immensely popular actor, and his love interest is a singer/actress trying to make a comeback. I just started watching Full House, and the main guy is . . . an immensely popular actor.

10. Wrist-grabbing. The guy will grab the girl’s wrist to fend her off or express his displeasure. It doesn’t seem to be as rude and almost-abusive to the Korean girl in question as it looks to me.

11. Time travel and amnesia both show up frequently.

I’m not an expert on K-dramas, but I have become somewhat fascinated and maybe slightly addicted. I’m not sure what the draw is. My progeny certainly can’t fathom the attraction. Anyway, here are the ones I’ve watched with comments:

Queen Inhyun’s Man, aka The Queen and I. This one is an historical/time travel romance. A modern actress falls for a medieval (late 1600’s) hero who has a magic scroll that transports him back and forth in time.

King 2 Hearts. In an alternate history Korea, South Korea has a king with an irresponsible little brother, Prince Jae Ha. North Korea is still communist, but the two countries are trying to make peace by means of participating in a military contest together with a joint Korean team. Hang Ah is the star of the North Korean military contingent, and she and Jae Ha spar and eventually come together in an attempt to bridge the cultural gap between North and South.

City Hunter is a superhero drama, an Asian take-off on Batman with complications. Actor Lee Min-Ho is Yoon-sung, a young man who has been trained from birth to take revenge on the men who killed his father. Kim Nana is a complication who threatens to sidetrack Yoon-sung in his program of revenge, but he maintains his secret identity as City Hunter to protect Kim Nana from his sad, dangerous, and lonely mission.

The Greatest Love is a much lighter romantic comedy, a mash-up of Pride and Prejudice, A Star Is Born, and several soap opera plots. It was rather disconcerting to see actress Yoo In-na, who was the cute and perky leading lady in Queen Inhyun’s Man, playing the bad girl in this romcom. Doko Jin, the Darcy character, is way too proud for his own good, but he does eventually come down to earth, and the eventual resolution of the conflict is rewarding and fun to watch.

Full House. I just started this one and can’t tell you much about it, other than it’s rather implausible. In the first episode, the main character’s “friends” just sent her on a wild goose chase of a trip to China and sold her house while she was away. It looks as if the girl, Ji-eun, is fated to cross paths (repeatedly) with famous actor, Young-jae, who turns out to be the one who bought her house from the unscrupulous friends.

Actually, implausibility could be another Korean drama trope. North Koreans and South Koreans making nice with each other over joint military maneuvers? Doko Jin the famous actor mooning over a potato plant? A revenge-seeking superhero with mommy and daddy issues? Time travel via Buddhist scroll and cellphone?

However, I am addicted nonetheless, and I willingly suspend my disbelief and watch with bated breath to see what will happen next.