Lee Tae-Jun, illustrated by Kim Dong-Seong, English translation by Eun Hee Chun,
Waiting for Mama
North-South Books, 2007.

Bilingual: English-Korean

Ages 3-8

A small boy waits and waits at the streetcar station for his mama. As each streetcar arrives, he asks the driver where she is.  He is undeterred by the rather brusque replies of the first two, though they will cause feelings of resentment in the story’s young readers/listeners; the third thankfully responds with compassion, even if he is still unable to give concrete reassurance. And so the adorable wee boy, dressed snuggly in traditional Korean clothes - but with a cold, red nose - continues to wait stoically.

This is how the narrative ends and when this story first appeared in a Korean newspaper in 1938, its original, presumably adult, readers, would have been left to ponder it and weave their own endings - but this is a picture-book for small children and a reassuring ending is provided in the final double-page spread, with our small hero (and he is a hero) walking home through the snowy streets with his mother. However, illustrator Kim Dong-Seong conveys the potential for tragedy lurking behind an allegorical interpretation of the story - mother and son are tiny among the tangle of snow-covered wooden houses. I think the publishers realised it may be possible to miss them at first (I certainly did) and they have actually taken the unusual step of pointing them out in their blurb on the back cover, ensuring that a happy ending is secure.

Kim’s illustrations hearken back to 1930s Korea, when public transport was provided by streetcars - but, as we are told in the end notes, many of the people portrayed could still be seen in Korea today (there’s also a very interesting note on the roots of Hangeul, the Korean alphabet). Wordless illustrations stretch the narrative and the sense of time passing:on one page, a skilled ink drawing of the various people waiting for a streetcar; and on the next, a colorful landscape of the car arriving. The panorama broadens progressively, reflecting perhaps the child’s flights of imagination as he waits.

On the surface, this is a very simple little tale, sympathetically and beautifully illustrated: but it goes much deeper than that and could well become one of those stories that is asked for again and again. Any questionings on the part of adults as to why a small child should be waiting alone (and they go unanswered in the narrative) are irrelevant to the essence of the tale and will not cross the horizons of the story’s young audience.  In the comfort of a cosy lap, young readers, for whom waiting a few minutes seems like an eternity, will feel intensely the agony of this small boy’s vigil, knowing that, in fact, all will be well.

Marjorie Coughlan
April 2009