Certainly, the events of 3/11, including the Fukushima incident, are painful. But looking at Chung's photographs from Fukushima, you wouldn't even know that they were taken there—they look like simple images of a beautiful countryside. This is part of the point, though. Seo, the historian, notes that outside of the first and last lines, the poem makes little mention of the political situation in which it was written: "the rest of the poem is no more than a beautiful pastoral. There is no indictment of Japan’s colonial rule and no description of people’s sorrows and pains. In fact, what delivers the losses, futility, grief, and resentment of those who are on the verge of losing “their root” in deprived country much more acutely and deeply is the absence of their mention." Chung's photos could be seen in much the same way, and certainly Seo does so, writing that his work shows "the presence of absence."