New York: Columbia University Press, 2024. US$30.00, cloth; US$29.00, ebook. ISBN 9780231198868.
Passcode to the Third Floor is the memoir of Thae Yong-ho, a high-ranking North Korean diplomat who defected in the UK. In this work, Thae, former North Korean minister to the UK, shares his experiences from the early 1990s to the mid-2010s. The book provides a perspective on North Korea’s economic collapse, famine, survival, and nuclear development through a diplomat’s lens.
The book is divided into two parts. The first focuses on Thae Yong-ho’s time in North Korea, highlighting the events he deems most significant. These events span the entire history of the country, from Pyongyang’s interest in nuclear weapons as early as the 1950s to Thae’s final days as a North Korean diplomat. The second part narrates Thae Yong-ho’s personal journey, beginning with his selection at the age of fourteen to study abroad and concluding around 2018, with his reflections on inter-Korean diplomacy and his vision of a free North Korea reuniting with the South. Most of the memoir is structured as anecdotes instead of a continuous narrative, giving insights into diplomatic life, involvement in black markets, aiding foreign diplomats in Pyongyang, guiding Kim family members, and exposing the author’s children to the outside world during foreign assignments.
This book is not for a general audience. The original Korean edition targeted South Koreans with an existing interest in North Korea. Readers are expected to understand North Korea’s history and the structure of the party-state, and terms like “anti-Japanese revolutionary fighters” (in the 1990s), “Kimilsungist-Kimjongilist League,” and “South Joseon” are used without explanation.
The translation limits the book’s audience due to factual errors and awkward sentences. The translator confuses the Paralympics with the Special Olympics (229) and translates Ŭiyonggun (a militia unit of conscripted South Koreans from the Korean War era) as a “volunteer army” (114), potentially confusing readers with the Chinese troops of the same name. The literal translation highlights that the book was originally written in Korean. Sentences such as “[t]hat’s why first vice ministers fall apart after around ten years in the position”(209), or “a huge explosion ripped through a side track at the Ryongcheon County Station in North Pyongan Province. This event became known as the ‘Ryongcheon County Station Explosion Incident’” (169) exemplify the clunky style. The word “issue,” translated from the Korean munje, appears 235 times, more than once every two pages. No effort was made to adapt the English version for its readers, with plenty of instances where the author clearly addresses a South Korean audience. There’s even a part where a price in euros is converted to South Korean won.
Although the translator claims to have followed a consistent romanization principle, in reality it lacks internal consistency. For example, Choe Mun-duk on page 79 is written as Choe Mun-deok on page 80. The translation of North Korean ideological terms is also inconsistent and sometimes misleading. Kim Jong-il’s title changgun and Kim Jong-un’s title taejang are both translated as “general,” which makes passages about the succession campaign confusing. At one point, the translator even refers to “the fortune given by the General and General” (221). Kim Jong-un’s 2016 party position of chairman (wiwŏnjang) is translated extremely misleadingly as party committee chief (317).
Some of the issues with the book stem not from the translation but from the author’s writing. This is a memoir, and human memory is inherently flawed. Some authors recognize this, but unfortunately, Thae does not. He recounts events with absolute certainty, even those he couldn’t have witnessed, like a 1975 meeting between Mao and Kim Il-sung. This makes it difficult to distinguish fact from hearsay.
It should be noted that this is a book written with a clear agenda. Virtually everyone Thae mentions comes across as a good person. North Korean officials and diplomats are portrayed positively. Foreign admirers of Pyongyang are also shown in a favourable light, as are the Pyongyang elite. One phrase in the book could almost serve as its epigraph: “The Central Committee officials who managed my criticism session were all parents, so they seemed to understand why I had done what I did. I was grateful for that” (202–203).
As this is a political memoir, Thae often credits himself throughout. He claims that North Korea stopped conscripting children for mass games after the DPRK embassy in the UK reported that a British diplomat had criticized the practice as inhumane during a conversation with him, and that Kim Jong-il was allegedly angry about the report. He writes, “I dare say that it was my own meritorious action that made it so North Korean children no longer had to conduct mass games training in the winter” (194).
This narrative is especially evident in the preface, where Thae, a former diplomat in one of North Korea’s top positions and later a South Korean National Assembly member, casts himself as an underdog. “All countries treat first-generation immigrants as second-class citizens”(xix–xx), he laments. Thae’s own story seems to contradict this idea: people who are truly second-class citizens—such as African Americans in the 1910s—don’t get elected to national legislatures. As a naturalized South Korean, I can also vouch that the Republic of Korea does not automatically discriminate against all first-generation migrants. Considering figures like Elon Musk, Nicole Kidman, and Arnold Schwarzenegger, I strongly believe that such a broad generalization does not hold true in other countries either.
Thae’s sympathy for the UK and its officials is evident. British diplomats interested in East Asia might find the book valuable, as might other foreign policy officials studying late 2000s-early 2010s North Korea. However, the poor translation and selective narrative limit its appeal to a broader audience.
Serious students of North Korean politics during the Kim Jong-il era should not overlook it, despite its flaws. The book offers valuable insights into the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, such as details about purged officials and Kim Jong-il’s train. Scholars might prefer the original Korean text due to translation issues.
A well-crafted English-language book using Thae’s background could be more effective. A skilled journalist with strong literary abilities, a solid understanding of the Korean Peninsula, and the insight that Thae is a professional politician could interview him and provide a more accessible and nuanced account. Journalists of the caliber of Anna Fifield, Barbara Demick, or Tim Sullivan could undertake such a project, creating a more coherent narrative for a wider audience. Perhaps, one day, such a book will indeed be written.
Fyodor Tertitskiy
Korea University, Seoul