Although this book is autobiographical in form, the story of the author's life is only the backdrop against which is played out the drama of "the starved and the silent" people of Korea- a drama of privation so complete and despair so intense as to be almost beyond the imagination of a member of "the affluent society."
Father Schwartz explains first the circumstances which led him to become a parish priest of Pusan, Korea, rather than a missionary; then he describes his parish activities as pastor, economist, social worker and psychologist among a people incredibly different from us in their way of life, their needs, and their goals. His narrative, however, is not just another I-did-this-and-I-said-that missioner's tale; it is the gripping story of an American functioning effectively in a society where not luxury, nor even comfort, but survival itself is the often unattainable ideal toward which the individual must strive. The Korean way of life and the American way are thrown into sharp and often humorous contrast when, for example, the author's superior, peasant-born Bishop Choi, visits the United States on a fund-raising tour and Father Schwartz records the reactions of the bishop and America to one another. Less amusing, on the other hand, are the author's comments on the extravagances and abuses endemic among American missionary societies working in Korea- practices which have led (among other things) to the coining of a phrase by the Orientals to describe a person given to making a vulgar display of "Ah, that one!" they say, "He is rich as a missionary."
The Starved and the Silent, both the chronicle of one man's encounter with a harsh and alien society and as a searching examination of mass poverty and misery, is an eloquent and moving work of the first importance.
Aloysius Schwartz was born in Washington, D.C., and completed his theological studies at the University of Louvain in Belgium. He was a parish priest in Pusan, Korea.
"Christ's presence in the poor marvelously complements his presence in the Eucharist. In the Sacrament of the Eucharist, the Son of God gives Himself to us in the form of bread; and we approach the table of communion as spiritual beggars - with outstretched hand and hungry heart. In the "sacrament of poverty," the roles are mysteriously reversed: Christ is now the beggar, and he humbly approaches us and pleads with us to give him bread."