Changhee has one of the oddest character arcs I have ever seen, because you would never have expected him to be relieved to have accidently walked into a course for funeral directing, realizing this is what he’s been called to. While I personally didn’t find him annoying at the beginning of the show, I know many viewers were not a fan of his complaining and rambling. I wouldn’t have expected him to be so genuine and introspective, but he is a new favorite character of mine. I think I understand a lot of his behavior as a middle child myself. I don’t think I’ve often seen stories with people in their 30s still figuring out their dream, because a lot of media portrays adults in their 30s either still chasing a seemingly impossible dream or giving up on a dream and learning to work a mundane job. Liberation from a mundane life is something I’ve seen before, but I’ve never seen it be tackled the way My Liberation Notes does.
When we’re introduced to Changhee, the obsession we find is the car. The car that will reduce his commute time, end his dependence on public transportation, and give him more independence to date and travel. But a car isn’t really a dream. It’s more so something that would make his life more convenient and would allow him to use his time more intentionally. When Changhee starts realizing he doesn’t have a dream, I truly began to feel a certain kinship with his character, because a lot, if not all, of my motivation is driven solely by others, especially my family. I don’t have the desire to achieve something big. I want a peaceful and fulfilling life, doing something worthwhile, but I don’t know what that looks like for me. That’s not to say that I have never dreamed of a specific career or of how I want my adult life to play out, but now that I’m reaching the beginning of adulthood (and awkwardly shying away from it as best I can, honestly) I’m realizing that most of my dreams were facilitated inherently by others prompting me to find what I want to do. But I don’t yearn for a career. okay, not true, I so deeply want to be a good writer and have people find my writing interesting, but easier said than done. I want to exist and to exist joyfully.
I really love this idea of Changhee saying his soul knows where he should be before his body does and so his body moves without him fully understanding it at first. I’m guessing Changhee is in his mid- to late-30s, and he’s already been present for four deaths. Like his employee was telling him, why was he studying art so intently? That wouldn’t make him a Seoul man, necessarily, although it is good to study and familiarize yourself with your new home. I had the sense that Changhee would eventually return to living outside of Seoul. Though, that’s not what really matters right now. What matters is that he was at the right place at the right time, and he realized, oh yeah, this is the place I’m supposed to be. This is what I’m supposed to do. I’m able to comfort people, to help people pass peacefully. I know how to be with someone when they need it most. To just be present. In the moment. In those last moments when all you want is to not be alone. Changhee is filled with the realization that he does not run from or fear death. He’s willing to risk it all, risk his chance at financial success, to help Hyeoksu rest in assurance that he is there with him and will be with him till the end, to help him go peacefully, gently. It is so interesting, and as I said, so odd to think of looking back on his character, because it felt like he was too frustrated and unhealthily obsessed with things he didn’t have, but I think it’s fair to say that a lot of that was him going through the motions of having to adult and not feeling fulfilled with his life. It was hard for me to pinpoint what Changhee was seeking liberation from after he quit his job. Once we see him using Gu’s car, Changhee begins showing a gentleness to him, so I thought, well, he wants to be freed of that frustration and annoyance from his job, because it isn’t in his nature to be irritated. And there is definitely some truth to that. He did want to be liberated from that, and he was in the end. However, it’s more than that. It’s about ambition. I don’t think Changhee was actually ambitious, although he appeared to be. I think he forced himself to have ambitions because that’s what one does when you attempt to become independent. He’s just someone who inherently understands people well, which is very powerful, and he didn’t know before what to do with that. What he lacked was purpose. And as he’s said before, his legs led him to where he needed to be. Changhee is an incredibly interesting character, and I know I’ll continue pondering many of his lines from throughout the series as well as his unexpected arc.
