See You Again in Pyongyang is written in a crisp and engaging style. Jeppesen, who made several previous trips to the country lasting a week or less, provides a probing look at a slice of privileged life inside Kim Jong-un’s North Korea by describing what it is like to live in a totalitarian state where the 'undercurrent of paranoia is woven into the fabric of daily life' ... Structured as part memoir, part travelogue and part history, Jeppesen’s artful narrative falls short in the history portion of the book ... there are more specific errors ... These are not minor historical details, and they distract from the overall flow of the narrative ... Still, if the intent of the book is to provide an up-close and vivid account of what life is like for an American tourist in North Korea, it succeeds splendidly.
Jeppesen is our guide to North Korea, and all he can really offer is a dramatic recounting of his time in the country, much of which boils down to a guided tour of a guided tour. He seems to compensate for thin material with flowery language and flagrant verbosity. There are many purple-prosed sunsets ... I found his substantive commentary quite enjoyable—he knows how to talk about art, and he comes alive in his granular analyses of what he dubs 'Norkore' propaganda music and regime-approved 'Norkorealist' painting ... What makes See You Again in Pyongyang worth reading is the tension between the bold explorer and the impenetrable country, the feeling of frustration in the face of lies and exclusion and petrified resistance. Jeppesen may get as deep as Pyongyang will allow, at least to an American.
Though he stays long enough in North Korea to get a deeper view, Jeppesen is still treated as a foreigner ... While his book is hardly a love letter, he bemoans that almost all U.S. reporting on North Korea is negative, often colored by South Korea's dislike of the North, and that few Western news operations have any Korean speakers who could help unfold a more balanced view of nuanced life in North Korea. Those searching for clues as to whether Trump has a shot at ever forging a new relationship with North Korea may come away from this book as confounded as ever. There are no blacks and whites about North Korea—only grays.
The author’s account of his visit to the Sinchon Museum of American War Atrocities, with its 'outlandish' claims of American brutality in the Korean War, will rattle many readers. Jeppesen insists the propaganda works both ways, with the U.S. decrying 'the axis of evil' and enforcing an 'unwritten rule' against positive news coverage of North Korea. Unfortunately, the author’s constant 'rendering' of information through dialogue with his travel companions adds little to the narrative. He finds 'a great diversity of opinion unvoiced, unvoicable' and even small signs of resistance by individual artists. A candid and disturbing portrait of life under a dictatorship.
Perched uncomfortably among journalism, memoir, and pop history, this account is more an impersonal recitation of details than an evocation of inner experience; even a recounting of witnessing police brutality in broad daylight feels oddly detached, and Jeppesen mentions hiding his sexual orientation from his hosts almost as an afterthought. The few moments of feeling are concentrated at the end, leaching urgency and emotional connection from the rest of the narrative ... Though this book may appeal to readers seeking a big-picture introduction to the country, those seeking a sense of North Korean life will be disappointed.
