White Mulberry Summary, Characters and Themes

White Mulberry by Rosa Kwon Easton is a moving historical novel that charts the extraordinary life of a young Korean girl growing up during the brutal occupation of Korea by Japan in the early 20th century.  Told across years of upheaval and transformation, the novel centers on Miyoung, a girl of strong will and ambition, as she wrestles with cultural oppression, gender roles, colonization, and her own identity.

Through Miyoung’s eyes, readers witness the injustices of arranged marriage, forced assimilation, and generational trauma, but also the quiet power of faith, education, and perseverance.  The book offers a deeply personal yet historically grounded portrait of one girl’s fight to forge a meaningful life under impossible circumstances.

Summary

Miyoung is an eleven-year-old girl in 1928 Korea, living under Japanese occupation in a modest boarding house run by her widowed mother.  Her world is tightly bound by traditions and expectations that leave little room for personal choice—especially for girls.

Her older half-sister Bohbeh becomes the focus of a marriage proposal arranged by Mr.  Chung, a Korean man connected to the Japanese electrical company.

He suggests that Bohbeh marry his brother in Kyoto.  This echoes the earlier fate of another sister, Bohkee, who had been sent away to Manchuria and was never heard from again.

Miyoung is disturbed by the looming loss of Bohbeh and even more horrified when she learns her own marriage is being arranged to Ilsoo, an unpleasant older boy she detests.

Desperate for escape, Miyoung finds brief hope in her teacher, Miss Kim, a modern woman who introduces her to new ideas: education, agency, and Christianity.  Miyoung begins secretly attending church and befriends Mrs.

Smith, an American missionary.  There, she discovers the radical notion that girls have worth equal to boys, and that marriage can be a choice.

Her mother, steeped in Buddhist traditions and skeptical of Western influence, reacts with fury when she learns of these secret visits.  Miyoung is punished harshly, yet the vision of an alternative future keeps her spirit alive.

Encouraged by her friendship with a marginalized classmate, Haewon, and supported by Miss Kim, Miyoung continues to dream of becoming a teacher.  When Ilsoo is conscripted into a coal mine, her mother surprises her by agreeing to send her to school—but in Japan, where public education is free.

Miyoung travels with Bohbeh to Kyoto, leaving her mother behind.  Though hopeful, she is quickly disillusioned.

Life in Japan for Koreans is impoverished and discriminatory.  Bohbeh’s husband is abusive, and Miyoung faces cruel bullying at school.

She eventually adopts a Japanese name, Miyoko, and changes her appearance to survive, hiding her Korean identity even as it pains her.

Despite these trials, she excels academically and forms a connection with a kind teacher, Yamamoto-sensei.  However, unable to afford high school, she starts working.

Her first job as a waitress ends in disgrace when she’s discovered to be Korean.  She becomes a maid in a wealthy baron’s household, working long hours but continuing her studies through correspondence school.

She hardens emotionally, driven by the dream of independence.

Eventually, Miyoko becomes a nurse aide at the Japanese Red Cross hospital.  Her work brings her a sense of purpose and direction, leading her to consider nursing as her new goal.

Her faith and commitment to education carry her through hardships, but she continues to feel like a shadow of herself, always hiding her origins.

By 1936, her life shifts again.  She becomes pregnant by Hojoon, a man she once rejected, and they marry quietly during the monsoon season.

Bohbeh supports her, but Hojoon’s family does not.  Miyoko struggles to find her place in a house where she’s seen as an outsider and a burden.

When she gives birth to her son, Ko-chan, she is denied the opportunity to breastfeed him or bond closely with him.  Halmeoni, Hojoon’s mother, dominates child-rearing decisions.

Still, Miyoko finds happiness in the quiet family life she builds with Hojoon.

Tragedy strikes when Hojoon’s health rapidly deteriorates from tuberculosis, and he dies.  Miyoko is devastated.

She becomes withdrawn from her child and nearly drowns in grief.  Encouraged by Bohbeh and her late husband’s dreams, she eventually regains her strength.

Determined to reclaim her son and her future, she begins studying again, treating sick parishioners in secret and preparing for a nursing exam.  She rents a small room, a symbolic step toward independence, and hopes to one day bring her son back to Korea.

As the Second World War escalates, Miyoko—now more emotionally and mentally prepared—executes a risky escape plan in 1943.  She deceives her in-laws, retrieving Ko-chan for what she pretends is a short trip.

With help from Bohbeh, she brings Ko-chan to Osaka and spends a day rebuilding their bond.  They travel by train under false pretenses, narrowly escaping discovery.

Ko-chan performs perfectly during questioning, showing the trust he has begun to place in her.

At the port in Shimonoseki, she learns the ferry was attacked by an American submarine the day before.  Still, she presses forward.

When a man sent by Halmeoni arrives to reclaim Ko-chan, Miyoko confesses the truth to her son.  He chooses to stay with her.

Onboard the ferry, Miyoko helps deliver a baby—a serendipitous event that earns her gratitude from the ship’s captain and secures safe passage.

They arrive in Busan, where Miyoko reclaims her Korean name, Miyoung.  Now a mother, caregiver, and survivor, she stands ready to rebuild her life in her homeland.

Her identity is no longer fragmented.  Though she has endured relentless loss and hardship, she has reclaimed her agency, her roots, and her future—not just for herself, but for her son.

The journey is a testament to quiet strength, sacrifice, and the enduring hope of returning home.

Characters

Miyoung / Miyoko

The heart and anchor of White Mulberry, Miyoung’s journey spans childhood innocence, cultural subjugation, forced assimilation, and eventual resilience.  Initially introduced as a strong-willed eleven-year-old in Japanese-occupied Korea, Miyoung bristles against the oppressive forces that aim to dictate her future.

Her passion for autonomy sets her apart—whether it’s in her protest against an arranged marriage or her yearning to study.  As she transforms into Miyoko in Japan, adopting a new name and identity, her story takes on the aching complexity of a girl forced to perform a version of herself for safety and acceptance.

The Japanese schooling system becomes both a vehicle for her education and a crucible of ethnic shame and alienation, sharpening her internal conflict.  Despite hardship, she pushes forward—working as a waitress, a maid, and eventually as a nurse aide.

Her eventual return to her Korean name during her escape to Korea with her son symbolizes the restoration of identity.  Through motherhood, loss, and spiritual grounding, she emerges not only as a survivor, but a quietly revolutionary figure who reclaims agency within a world designed to deny her voice.

Her journey from a defiant daughter to a courageous mother underscores the indomitable power of love, heritage, and self-reclamation.

Bohbeh

As the middle sister and Miyoung’s guardian figure during her early years in Japan, Bohbeh embodies the tension between familial duty and quiet endurance.  Initially introduced as a sacrificial daughter—offered in marriage to a Japanese man—Bohbeh’s life mirrors the limitations placed on women in colonial Korea.

However, her role deepens when she becomes a source of emotional and logistical support for Miyoung.  Her pragmatism is evident in her advice about life in Japan, and her home, though modest and harsh, becomes a sanctuary for Miyoung.

Her marriage to Haramoto, a bitter and abusive man, reflects her own silent struggle for survival, but she never lets that dim her commitment to her sister.  Throughout Miyoung’s transitions—from student to worker to wife and mother—Bohbeh remains a quiet constant, offering stability when few others do.

Her relationship with Miyoung is marked by moments of tough love, tender encouragement, and mutual understanding, culminating in her being the first person to rejoice in Miyoung’s marriage and the birth of Ko-chan.  In many ways, Bohbeh represents the many women who bore the weight of sacrifice silently and yet ensured the survival of those they loved.

Miyoung’s Mother

A complex figure rooted in traditional values and Buddhist faith, Miyoung’s mother embodies the generational and ideological divide that propels much of the early narrative.  Initially perceived as stern and pragmatic—consenting to the arranged marriages of her daughters and resisting Miyoung’s aspirations—she slowly reveals the hidden layers of a mother trying to navigate survival under colonial rule and crushing poverty.

Her resistance to Christianity and Western values is not just ideological but emotional, tied to her fear of losing her cultural identity.  Yet, when Ilsoo is removed from the equation and a path to education in Japan emerges, she shifts—surprisingly—toward supporting Miyoung’s schooling.

This late act of compassion, though short-lived due to her illness and eventual death, serves as a subtle redemption, showing that even within entrenched beliefs lies the potential for change.  Her character lingers as a specter of both oppression and reluctant love, and her memory continues to guide Miyoung’s choices.

Hojoon

Gentle, patient, and deeply principled, Hojoon serves as the emotional sanctuary Miyoung didn’t realize she needed.  His initial rejection as a suitor shifts as his true nature emerges: a man scarred by illness and circumstance but still capable of deep love and empathy.

His quiet support of Miyoung’s dreams, his defense of her against his mother’s harsh judgment, and his desire to return to Korea reflect a longing for dignity and wholeness.  Their brief but tender marriage becomes a rare reprieve in Miyoung’s turbulent life.

Hojoon’s declining health and eventual death act as a devastating pivot point, plunging Miyoung into despair but also galvanizing her toward renewed purpose.  His dreams of a home in Korea and a better life for their son become the torch she carries forward, making his presence felt even after his physical departure.

Ko-chan (Soonho)

Born under difficult circumstances and raised largely by his paternal grandmother, Ko-chan represents both a source of deep emotional pain and a beacon of hope for Miyoung.  His early attachment to Halmeoni and his confusion about his mother’s role mirror the fragmented nature of their relationship.

Yet, as the escape unfolds, Ko-chan transforms from a passive child into a courageous participant, lying to authorities, following his mother, and eventually choosing her during a moment of truth.  His trust is hard-won but profound.

The symbolic moment when he calls Miyoung “Omoni” (mother) not only signifies a bond restored but also a future reimagined.  His character, though young, embodies the generational continuity of resistance, identity, and love.

Halmeoni

Hojoon’s mother is at once an antagonist and a mirror for Miyoung.  Harsh, traditional, and initially unkind, she is shaped by personal loss and cultural rigidity.

Her disdain for Miyoung’s premarital pregnancy and her refusal to relinquish Ko-chan underscore her adherence to societal norms and family control.  However, her eventual decision to let Ko-chan travel with Miyoung reveals a softer, wounded side—one that recognizes shared grief.

Her ambiguous morality adds nuance to the story, showing how trauma and tradition can both shield and harm.  In her own way, Halmeoni is a reflection of the very systems Miyoung must escape, but also a woman carrying pain she cannot express.

Teacher Kim

A pivotal influence during Miyoung’s formative years, Teacher Kim is the story’s embodiment of modernity, education, and feminist ideals.  An unmarried woman who values knowledge, independence, and faith, she becomes Miyoung’s first window into a world beyond domestic servitude.

By validating Miyoung’s intelligence and encouraging her academic pursuits, Teacher Kim challenges the rigid norms of their community.  Her influence echoes long after Miyoung leaves Korea, as the desire to become a teacher—and later a nurse—stems from this early exposure to possibility.

While she disappears from the narrative after Miyoung’s departure, her presence remains a critical spark in Miyoung’s transformation.

Yamamoto-sensei

One of the few sympathetic Japanese figures in the novel, Yamamoto-sensei offers Miyoung a rare reprieve from relentless discrimination in her Japanese school.  Compassionate and quietly protective, he acknowledges her intelligence and tries to shield her from the worst of the bullying.

Though he is limited in how much he can intervene in a deeply racist system, his kindness affirms Miyoung’s worth and plants the seeds of confidence that allow her to persevere.  He stands as a reminder that individual empathy can exist even within oppressive structures.

Choi

Choi’s sudden appearance in Shimonoseki adds tension and complexity to Miyoung’s escape.  Sent by Halmeoni to retrieve Ko-chan, he nearly derails Miyoung’s plans.

However, his presence also catalyzes a critical emotional moment between mother and son.  By forcing Miyoung to confess her entire plan and motivations to Ko-chan, Choi inadvertently becomes a turning point rather than an obstacle.

His character represents the ever-present threat of surveillance and control, but also the cracks in the façade where truth and love can emerge stronger.

Themes

Patriarchy and the Systemic Disempowerment of Women

In White Mulberry, the most persistent social force is the deeply embedded patriarchal structure that controls the lives of women and girls at every stage.  From the earliest moments in Miyoung’s life, her value is assessed through the lens of marriageability and compliance.

Her older sisters, Bohkee and Bohbeh, are both sent away for arranged marriages, with Bohkee disappearing into the void of Manchuria and Bohbeh exported to Kyoto for a match she never desired.  These choices are not framed as personal betrayals but rather as normalized sacrifices made under the pressure of cultural expectation and financial instability.

Miyoung’s protests against her own arranged engagement to Ilsoo—an older, cruel boy—are dismissed outright, illustrating how her voice holds no institutional weight.  Even her father, emotionally detached and economically compromised, contributes to this transactional view of his daughters.

The female characters are trapped in a system where marriage is a method of survival or upward mobility, not personal fulfillment.

Miyoung’s journey confronts and eventually resists this confinement.  Through exposure to alternative values via Christianity and education, she begins to imagine a life that isn’t bound by male authority or rigid roles.

However, this empowerment comes at a cost—alienation from her mother, physical punishment, and eventual exile from her homeland.  Even after marriage to Hojoon and motherhood, the patriarchal grip does not ease.

Her autonomy is curtailed by her in-laws, particularly Hojoon’s mother, who reclaims control of her newborn, further diminishing Miyoung’s role.  Patriarchy, then, is not a distant ideology but an everyday lived experience for the women in the story, infiltrating every domain from education to religion, family to labor, and most intimately, the self.

Colonial Oppression and Cultural Erasure

The setting of Japanese-occupied Korea and later imperial Japan is not merely a backdrop but an active, violent force in the narrative.  The colonization of Korea manifests in the physical, emotional, and psychological erosion of Korean identity, particularly through the educational system, labor exploitation, and systemic racism.

Miyoung’s transfer to Japan, initially framed as an opportunity, quickly reveals the brutal reality of being a second-class citizen.  Her Korean heritage makes her a target of bullying, verbal slurs, and social exclusion in her Japanese school.

To survive, she takes on a Japanese name, dons the traditional kimono, and polishes her Japanese language skills—not out of pride, but necessity.  Yet assimilation does not equate to acceptance.

Despite her efforts, she remains marked as Korean, always at risk of exposure.

The more she performs her Japanese identity, the more she is forced to distance herself from her roots.  This cultural erasure becomes an emotional burden, compounded by the longing for home and her mother’s declining health.

Even after achieving academic success, she cannot fully claim her accomplishments without masking her Korean origins.  Her return to Korea with Ko-chan is a radical reclamation of her birthright and identity.

The journey home is fraught with danger—not just political but existential—because it requires reconciling the self she had to abandon with the one she’s become.  The novel underscores how colonization is not only territorial but internal, shaping how the colonized see themselves, what they must do to survive, and the steep emotional price of living between worlds.

Education as a Pathway to Liberation

Miyoung’s evolution from a spirited girl to a resilient woman is driven by her unwavering desire for education.  In a society that confines girls to the domestic sphere, where school is often deemed unnecessary or even dangerous for female virtue, her longing to learn is a radical act.

Education, for Miyoung, becomes the first and most enduring symbol of self-determination.  It offers not only an escape from marriage but also a new identity—one built on intellect, competence, and independence.

Her early encounters with Teacher Kim and American missionary Mrs.  Smith open a window to a broader worldview where women can aspire to roles beyond wife and mother.

These moments of inspiration plant the seeds for a lifelong pursuit of knowledge, even when it must be done in secret or under oppressive conditions.

The irony is that her formal education in Japan, while technically more accessible, is laced with violence and assimilation.  Yet even within these constraints, Miyoung finds ways to assert agency—through excelling academically, teaching herself through correspondence courses, and eventually working in the medical field.

These efforts are not simply personal victories but acts of quiet rebellion.  They represent a refusal to be defined by her gender, her ethnicity, or her station in life.

Her eventual goal of becoming a nurse is not just a career aspiration but a declaration of purpose: to serve, to heal, and to live a life dictated by her own values.  Education in White Mulberry is both a weapon and a refuge, a means of survival and a platform for hope.

Motherhood, Loss, and Emotional Inheritance

Motherhood in the novel is presented as both a burden and a gift, shaped by social expectations, personal loss, and enduring love.  Miyoung’s relationship with her own mother is complex—filled with distance, silence, and unmet emotional needs, yet also underscored by shared suffering.

Her mother is a woman crushed by circumstances, yet she performs her duty to arrange futures for her daughters, however painful.  When Miyoung becomes a mother herself, she is immediately confronted by societal and familial judgment, particularly from her mother-in-law, who deems her unfit due to her status as an unwed mother and her inability to breastfeed.

Miyoung’s initial disconnection from Ko-chan after Hojoon’s death is portrayed with painful honesty.  Her grief paralyzes her ability to mother, echoing the emotional void she experienced as a child.

But unlike her own mother, Miyoung eventually makes an intentional choice to reclaim her role.  Her escape with Ko-chan is more than a physical journey; it is an emotional reckoning with what it means to protect, nurture, and connect.

Every moment of danger, every lie told to keep him safe, becomes an expression of a mother’s fierce love.

The maternal bond in the story is not sentimentalized; it is earned through hardship, sacrifice, and renewed commitment.  Miyoung’s final act of reclaiming her Korean identity and planning a future for herself and her son shows a full-circle transformation.

Motherhood, for her, becomes not just a social role but a moral mission—to break cycles of abandonment, to nurture without conditions, and to ensure her child has choices that she herself was denied.

Identity, Survival, and the Fragmented Self

Throughout White Mulberry, Miyoung’s identity is in flux, shaped by external forces and internal conflict.  As a child, she knows who she is—a Korean girl who values her freedom and questions authority.

But colonial rule, familial duty, and the pressures of assimilation force her to continually redefine herself.  Her transformation into Miyoko, a Japanese schoolgirl, is both a strategy and a loss.

She gains temporary safety but loses her cultural anchor.  This double-consciousness—performing one identity while longing for another—takes a psychological toll that is never fully healed.

Her life becomes a series of negotiations: between names, languages, cultures, and loyalties.  Even love and motherhood are filtered through this fractured self.

Her marriage to Hojoon, her work in a Japanese hospital, and her role in a Japanese household all demand a constant performance of conformity.  Yet there are moments where Miyoung reclaims herself—through church, through prayer, through caregiving—and these fragments slowly rebuild a coherent sense of self.

By the time she chooses to escape Japan and return to Korea, she is no longer the girl who sought escape under a mulberry tree.  She is a woman who has survived betrayal, loneliness, and grief, yet remains steadfast in her desire to live authentically.

Her final return to her Korean name signifies more than a change in geography—it is an act of reclamation.  Identity in this novel is not fixed but forged through struggle.

Miyoung’s story shows that survival requires adaptation, but true healing requires a return to one’s roots.