My father died, he hit a telephone pole. A hapless man whose life was "futile," a communist from South Korea, who spent the first half of his life fighting as a guerrilla and serving time in prison, and the second half meddling in rural affairs. A concerned citizen, dedicated to serving the people, yet scorned his entire life, he ended his earnest life in this way. Many people came to the funeral. Relatives with whom he had lost contact, prominent officials, released prisoners, rebellious teenage girls… from those in their seventies and eighties to teenagers, those who loved him, those who hated him, those who disagreed and were irreconcilable enemies, all gathered in this small mourning hall, mourning in their own ways without interfering with each other. They all knew and loved my father, and had also had insurmountable walls between them. But now, at the funeral, a subtle peace flowed, a peace that perhaps could only be achieved in the face of death. Perhaps, what my father had been striving for all along was this scene at the funeral.
父亲死了，撞上电线杆死的。一个一生“徒劳”的倒霉蛋，一个韩国的赤色分子，前半生打游击、蹲监狱，后半生在农村管闲事。爱操心、立志为民众奉献却被嫌弃了一辈子，就这样结束了他一本正经的人生。葬礼上来了许多人。断了来往的亲戚、有名望的官员、出狱的犯人、叛逆的不良少女……上到七八十岁，下到十几岁，爱他的、恨他的，彼此意见相左、水火不容的，都聚在这个小小的吊唁厅里，互不干涉地用自己的方式悼念。他们都与父亲相知相交，彼此之间也有过不可逾越的围墙。但现在，在葬礼上，一种微妙的和平涌动，一种或许只有在死亡面前才能实现的和平。也许，父亲一直为之奋斗的，就是葬礼上的这个画面。
父亲死了，撞上电线杆死的。一个一生“徒劳”的倒霉蛋，一个韩国的赤色分子，前半生打游击、蹲监狱，后半生在农村管闲事。爱操心、立志为民众奉献却被嫌弃了一辈子，就这样结束了他一本正经的人生。葬礼上来了许多人。断了来往的亲戚、有名望的官员、出狱的犯人、叛逆的不良少女……上到七八十岁，下到十几岁，爱他的、恨他的，彼此意见相左、水火不容的，都聚在这个小小的吊唁厅里，互不干涉地用自己的方式悼念。他们都与父亲相知相交，彼此之间也有过不可逾越的围墙。但现在，在葬礼上，一种微妙的和平涌动，一种或许只有在死亡面前才能实现的和平。也许，父亲一直为之奋斗的，就是葬礼上的这个画面。
