Miracle Creek

by Angie Kim

Han. There was no English equivalent, no translation. It was an overwhelming sorrow and regret, a grief and yearning so deep it pervades your soul—but with a sprinkling of resilience, of hope.

I love this Korean concept of han. It’s very important in Korean philosophy, and I find it so interesting that there is no English word quite like it. I’m a huge fan of The West Wing—I’ve probably Marathon-watched that show more than any other, with the possible exception of Star Trek: The Next Generation—and there’s actually an episode titled “Han” about a North Korean pianist who wants to defect to the US. He tells President Bartlett about han, and the President looks it up and discusses the poignancy of the pianist’s invocation of that word. I think that word fits here, as Young is thinking back to everything that’s happened and the hint of hope and brightness in the future to come.