Enthusiasms

In Mrs. Song’s house, as in every other, a framed portrait of Kim Il-Sung hung on an otherwise bare wall. People were not permitted to put anything else on that wall, not even pictures of their blood relatives. Kim Il-sung was the only family you needed—at least until the 1980s, when portraits of Kim Jong-il, named secretary of the Workers’ Party, were hung alongside those of his father. Later came a third portrait, of the father and son together. The North Korean newspapers liked to run “human interest” stories about heroic citizens who lost their lives rescuing the portraits from fire or flood. (…) About once a month, inspectors from the Public Standards Police would drop by to check on the cleanliness of the portraits.

The children were never to forget that they owed everything to the national leadership. Like other North Korean children, they didn’t celebrate their own birthdays, but those of Kim Il-sung on April 15 and Kim Jong-il on February 16. These days were national holidays and they were often the only days people would get meat in their ration packages. Later, after the energy crisis began, these were the only days there was electricity. A few days before each birthday, the Workers’ Party would distribute to every child more than two pounds of sweets. (…) When the time came, the children lined up in front of the portraits to express their gratitude. In unison, they would bend from the waist, bowing deeply, with feeling.

“Thank you, dear father Kim Il-sung,” the children repeated as their mother looked on with satisfaction.