Confucians in Love : Early Fiction Part I (Korean Classic Stories Vol.2)

KOREAN CLASSIC STORIES Vol. 2 Early Fiction Part I

Confucians in Love Compiled by

Kim Hunggyu Translated by Kevin O’Rourke

KOREAN CLASSIC STORIES Vol. 2

Confucians in Love Copyright Š 2013 by Seoul Selection All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without the written permission of the publisher.

Published by Seoul Selection 4199 Campus Dr., Suite 550 Irvine, CA 92612, USA Tel: 949-509-6584 Fax: 949-509-6599 E-mail: publisher@seoulselection.com Website: www.seoulselection.com ISBN: 978-1-62412-015-2 Library of Congress Control Number: 2013952725 Printed in the Republic of Korea

Contents

Foreword

7

Looking Over the Wall: the Tale of Yi Saeng

17

The Tale of Sim Saeng

47

The Jade Flute Fairy

60

Foreword

by Kim Hunggyu

Like the literature of many countries, classical Korean literature took a keen interest in romantic love, as evidenced in seolhwa (folktales) and the ancient gayo (songs) from before the Common Era. But in the 15th century a new genre emerged, laying out those motifs in narratives of considerable scale and weaving together compelling characters and plots. “Looking Over the Wall: the Tale of Yi Saeng” (“Yi Saeng Gyujang Jeon”) is one of the earlier examples of the genre.

The author, Kim Si-seup (1435–1493), was a leading intellectual of the 15th century. Horrified by the ruthless power struggle over the succession to the throne and despairing over a state of affairs that saw the ideals of virtuous Confucian governance spurned by a savage reality, Kim left government service. He spent the rest of

7 Foreword

his life as a drifter, joining a Buddhist monastery at one point and seeking cloister deep in the wild at another.

New Stories of the Golden Turtle (Geumo Sinhwa), which he wrote during that phase, is a collection of stories; three of the five stories that survive today deal with “boy meets girl,” separation, love, and heartbreak.

Kim’s worldview as reflected in these works is generally of a darker nature, which some critics go so far as to label tragic. Most of the protagonists of Geumo Sinhwa are solitary figures at odds with the world and in no position to express or easily resolve their inner turmoil.

And although acute loneliness kindles their yearning for a sympathetic soul, they are all the more anxious because that want is not easily met. Even if an opportune occasion should bring them together with the object of their dreams, cruel fate takes away their beloved or the values they hold dear. Parting and loss are not only jarring surprises. They also force man’s surrender by means of absolute might, in the form of a colossal event that cannot be tackled individually or the tipping point between life and death.

These traits dominate “Looking Over the Wall: the

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Tale of Yi Saeng,� which recounts the loving bond that an adolescent couple nurtures across the boundary of life and death. Whereas the first part is a story of young love often encountered in run-of-the-mill romances, the second half departs from the norm by featuring the soul of one of the youths returning from the dead to resume its earthly relationship. The first half is a tale of a love that defies the confines of social commandments; the second may well be a dedication to a love that has rebounded from the mortal abyss.

The normative obstacle that stands between the lovers in the first half may not appear insurmountable to a modern audience, but it was sacrosanct in the Confucian ethics of 15th-century Joseon Korea. It was simply inconceivable that members of noble families could fall in love without their parents’ blessings or sneak over the wall into their lover’s house every night for a tryst. The determination, proactiveness, and discernment that the female protagonist Choe showcases in handling crises after the affair comes to light are clearly fictitious exaggeration, but they serve to illustrate how true love evinces its ardent strength in the face of social barriers.

9 Foreword

Likewise, the heroine’s iron will and devotion are the chief drivers of the plot in the second half of the story, which opens with the hero Yi deep in mourning after his entire family—including his wife Choe—dies in the Red Turban Rebellion. At that point, Yi is a helpless man, lamenting and agonizing over his misfortunes and unable to take any action. The romance enters a new chapter, however, with the return of the dead wife’s soul. The couple enjoys an ecstatic and delicious love that bridges the divide between life and death—arguably the most unyielding obstacle imaginable—for years.

This setup is no doubt too fanciful to be acknowledged as realistic. But that very extravagance was the author’s tool for showing that we cannot give up on our dearest wishes even in this imperfect world of suffering. Despite nursing a deep-seated disappointment at the brutality and injustice of his time, Kim Si-seup was nevertheless unable to relinquish altogether rosy expectations about the worthiness of life.

“The Tale of Sim Saeng” (“Sim Saeng Jeon”) builds on a structure similar to the first half of “Looking Over the Wall: the Tale of Yi Saeng,” and yet it is a tragedy with a

10 Confucians in Love

completely different tone and story arc. The two works are alike in that the youths fall in love when they chance upon the other on the street, and that the affairs progress as the youths steal over walls into the young women’s homes. However, Yi Ok (1760–1812), the author of “The Tale of Sim Saeng,” chose a bleak, fatal ending for the lovers rather than the happy union of “Looking Over the Wall: the Tale of Yi Saeng.” That is, Kim Si-seup’s love story was paired with a heartbreaking but romantic fantasy, while Yi Ok’s work is a much more sober and realistic tragedy.

The tragic factor in Sim’s romance stems not from an external event such as unrest or war but rather from the social discrepancy between the protagonists. Whereas the hero Sim is an aristocrat, the heroine is from a middle-class family. The social order of the Joseon Dynasty made it extremely difficult for such couples to enter into marriage under equal and conventional terms; moreover, the higher-caste family was very unlikely to approve of the union. Yi and Choe were social equals and thus could proceed with a customary wedding with their parents’ permission after they had become lovers,

11 Foreword

but Sim’s situation was not so genial.

Therefore, it is out of a youth’s reckless lust that Sim, who can no longer contain his infatuation once he catches sight of the heroine’s face, jumps over the wall of her house every night to while away the dark hours in her yard. These are by no means the reasoned actions of someone who has mulled over future consequences.

On the other hand, the female protagonist deliberates likely problems and their future promise, even as she finds herself intrigued by the fact that an attractive man, besotted with her charms, is spending the night in her yard on the sly. Sim is the impulsive suitor, while the heroine is the principal worrier who has to weigh their uncertain futures in light of the couple’s feelings (love), reality (their different social standings), and mores. It is also the heroine who decides on the next step after much mental anguish and soul-searching. In the presence of her parents and Sim, she confesses what has transpired and what has been ailing her and declares her commitment to live her life as Sim’s mate, if not his legitimate spouse; the passage resonates with such depth and poignancy that we can hardly believe they are but

12 Confucians in Love

the words of an adolescent.

However, the union that is achieved through such travail and resolve falls apart much too easily. At his father’s stern order, Sim retires deep into the mountains to study, and during that month or so, the female protagonist suddenly takes ill and dies without hearing from her beloved. Sim does not mean to betray her, but scarcely has the willpower or sense of responsibility to actively deal with the circumstances that befalls them.

The resulting regret and self-recrimination bring his life of solitude and gloom to an untimely end.

Even as he was relating such a tragic tale of love, Yi Ok did not introduce any fantastical elements. He describes the actions and psyches of the characters in a remarkably stoic voice; in particular, the reported utterances of the heroine are nuanced depictions of the thoughts, apprehensions, and longing roiling within. What reader could help but feel love and pity for this woman?

“The Jade Flute Fairy” (“Oksoseon”) was written by Im Bang (1640–1724). Unlike the two works discussed above, it is a love story with a happy ending. Rather than focus on the lighthearted retelling of parting and reunion,

13 Foreword

however, this work is made notable by the probing observations about the subtle changes in the characters’ actions and state of mind.

14 Confucians in Love

Looking Over the Wall: the Tale of Yi Saeng

Yi Saeng lived near Camel Bridge in Songdo,* the old Goryeo** capital. He was 18 years old, of fine appearance, and very talented. A student at Seonggyungwan,*** he liked to recite verse as he walked. Choe Rang lived in Seonjukri Village. She was 16 years old, very beautiful, skilled in embroidery, and an accomplished poet. The world resounded with praise for these two young people.

* Old name of Kaesong in North Korea ** Goryeo was a Korean dynasty that lasted from 918 to 1392. This kingdom later gave name to the modern state of Korea. *** Seonggyungwan was the highest educational institution in the Joseon Dynasty.

17 Looking Over the Wall: the Tale of Yi Saeng

For elegance—Yi Doryeong, for charm and refinement—Choe Rang.

Such talent, such beauty! Their stories were enough to sate a famished heart.

Yi Saeng, books under his arm, had to pass Choe Rang’s house on his way to school. A row of willow trees encircled the northern wall; the willow branches fluttered easily in the breeze. Yi rested under the trees.

One day Yi looked in over the wall. A wonderful array of f lowers in full bloom greeted his eyes; the garden buzzed with bees and birdsong. A small pavilion glimmered between the clustered flowers near the wall; the blind was half closed and the silk curtain was draped low. A comely lady sat there. She had been embroidering and was resting for a moment. She cupped her chin in her hand and sang a song.

Alone at the silk window I stay my broidering hand, entranced by the song of the orioles in the clustered flowers.

The spring breeze brings resentment to my heart.

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The needle stops; I think mutely of my love.

From what household hales that man on the road, his blue collar and broad belt glimmer between the willows.

Were I a swallow on the pavilion floor, I could slip through the blind and skip over the wall.

When Yi heard her poem, he couldn’t resist the urge to show off his own poetry skills, but the gate was high and forbidding, and the garden and inner quarters were secluded. Aggrieved and disappointed, he had no choice but to leave.

On the way back from school, he composed three verses. He wrote the poems on a sheet of paper, wrapped the paper around a piece of roof tile, and threw it over the wall.

Folds of mist circle the twelve peaks of Mt. Wu;* half bared peaks are laden with purple and jade light. * Mt. Wu in China is associated with love making. The nymph who shared King Yang’s bed came down to the sunny terrace as a cloud in the morning and as rain in the evening.

19 Looking Over the Wall: the Tale of Yi Saeng

Troubled by the lonely pillow dream of King Yang of Chu, the nymph longs to come down to the sunny terrace in clouds and rain.

When Sima Xiangru beguiled Zhuo Wenjun,* the love in his heart was already full.

Gorgeous peach and plum blossoms range across the pink wall; they dizzily drop their petals on the wind.

Is the karma good or bad?

My sick heart struggles vainly; a day is like a year.

A twenty-eight character poem made the match.

When will I meet the Blue Bridge Immortal?

Choe Rang sent her maid Hyang-a to see about the noise. Hyang-a picked up the package and gave it to her mistress, who discovered Yi Saeng’s poems. She opened the paper and read the poems; her heart filled with joy.

She wrote eight characters on a sheet of paper and tossed * Reference to a love affair in the Old Han Dynasty when Sima Xiangru’s playing of the geomungo beguiled the widow Zhuo Wenjun.

20 Confucians in Love

it over the wall. “Have no fear, wait for the twilight.”

Under cover of the gathering dusk, Yi, as agreed, went to Choe Rang’s house. He saw that one branch of the peach tree, moving gently, was bent over the wall. A swing rope with a bamboo seat attached hung from the branch.

Yi grabbed the rope and climbed the wall. The moon was full on the hill, flower shadows covered the ground, and the clear fragrance was lovely. It occurred to Yi that he might have stumbled into the world of the Immortals. Joy gently filled his heart. At the same time, everything was so enigmatic and mysterious that in his anxiety, his hair stood on end.

Yi looked left and right. Choe was hidden among the clustered flowers. She and Hyang-a had already cut flowers to adorn their heads. They sat on a blanket in a secluded place. Choe laughed gently when she saw Yi; she composed a couplet on the spot.

Flowers on peach plum branches are gorgeous; moonlight on the mandarin duck pillow is lovely.

21 Looking Over the Wall: the Tale of Yi Saeng

Yi sang an answering couplet: Should news of our spring be noised abroad, insensible wind and rain will make us wretched.

Choe’s face reddened at the mention of wind and rain, an image of the parental anger that would befall them if the lovers were to be discovered. “From the beginning,” she said, “I resolved to be your wife, to hold winnowing basket and broom in my hand and take charge of household affairs, to know joy with you for the rest of our lives. How can you say something so insensitive? I may be a mere woman, but in my heart I nurture tranquility, I do not worry about anything. I am surprised that someone with the temper of a great man would say something so diffident. Should news of what happens in the women’s quarters be noised abroad and I am rebuked by my honorable father, I will take full responsibility. Hyang-a!

Go into the house and prepare a table of wine and dainties.”

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“What is this place?” Yi asked.

“We are standing under a small pavilion on the hill.

My parents have no sons, and I’m an only daughter. In a display of singular love, they built this pavilion for me on the bank of the lotus pond. In spring, they said, the place is full of glorious flowers. Enjoy yourself here in the company of your maids. The main house where my parents live is quite a distance away. We can laugh and play to our heart’s content without the slightest danger of being overheard.”

She offered him a cup of fragrant wine and composed a poem in old style: Where the curved balustrade overlooks the lotus pond the lovers whisper among flower clusters.

Drizzle of misty fragrance; spring is in full vigor.

A new lyric is sung to the strains of White Ramie Song.

The moon inclines, flower shadows cover the cushions.

A tug on the long branch brings a rain of red petals.

Fragrance cast on the wind seeps through our clothes.

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The daughter of Jia Chong dances in the spring light.* Her silk blouse brushes the sea roses, wakening the parrot asleep among the flowers.

Yi Saeng promptly sang a poem in response: Am I in paradise by mistake? Peach blossoms are in full bloom.

The ferment of my feelings is beyond expression.

Nymphs with blue-green braided hair, tied with golden pins; vivid spring blouses made from green ramie.

Rows of flowers are about to fall in the spring breeze; wind and rain, do not shake the lush branches.

Nymph sleeves flutter, their shadows glimmer in the world of men.

The lady in the moon dances in the shade of the cinnamon trees.

Cares arise before all good things come to fruition.

Do not teach our new song to the parrots. * Jia Chong (217–282) was a powerful courtier during the reign of Emperor Wu of the Jin Dynasty. It is said that his daughter fell in love with a man named Han Shou and stole rare foreign perfume bestowed by the emperor to give to him.

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CREDITS Translator: Kevin O’Rourke Publisher: Kim Hyung-geun Editors: Lee Jin-hyuk, Kim Hansol Copy Editors: D. Peter Kim, Daisy Larios Proofreader: John Power Designer: Jung Hyun-young