

The book consists of three interwoven narratives. The worst thing that could possibly have happened-her hand-wringing to the contrary-was that she would be sent packing. But the only thing that really appeared to be at risk was the USB on which she was taking notes-in violation of an implicit contract-and her tenure at the institution. The book is laced with descriptions of incidents that inspire panic, fear, anxiety, paranoia, sinking and pounding hearts. What struck me about the book was the extent to which Kim herself was complicit in the tedium and shadow play that she describes. But invidiously-as Kim acknowledges-these no-nos involved self-censorship as well as constraints from the outside. They also had to effectively agree to the long list of no-nos that Kim actually outlines in the book. The founders and staff-Christian missionaries-recognized from the outset that they would need to completely hide their religion, consigning their practice to what the North Koreans no doubt saw as Sunday ideology sessions. However my favorite injunction on the list was “do not make comparisons,” which is more or less equivalent to saying “do not engage in thought.” The reasons for such a prohibition are pretty clear: once you open the door on any comparisons with what is on offer in North Korea-or to quote Deng Xiaoping that we should “seek truth from facts”-it is like pulling on a loose thread.

From the start, she received a long list of the “can’t dos,” including speaking to her students in Korean.

A career break accompanying the New York Philharmonic’s trip to Pyongyang opened some doors to a visa to teach at PUST. Kim is from a South Korean immigrant family, and like many of her generation she went in search of her Korean roots. Would her book undermine PUST’s efforts? But after reading Without You, There is No Us, the problems appeared different: that Kim’s account may reflect her own personal idiosyncracies-and timidity-rather than what is really going on at PUST. She had effectively made a no disclosure agreement. The founders and staff struggled to walk the tightrope between their educational gamble and what the North Koreans would tolerate. When I first heard that journalist and author Suki Kim had written a kiss-and-tell memoir about her six months teaching English at the Pyongyang University of Science and Technology (PUST), the very effort struck me as opportunistic and irresponsible.
