[REVIEW] “Found in Translation: 𝑇𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑆𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒 𝑏𝑦 𝑎 𝐾𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑛 𝐶𝑜𝑛𝑓𝑢𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑛 𝑀𝑜𝑛𝑘” by Lydia Kwa

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Dennis Würthner (translator), Tales of the Strange by a Korean Confucian Monk: Kŭmo sinhwa by Kim Sisŭp, University of Hawai‘i Press, 2020. 402 pgs.

Also known as New Tales of the Golden Turtle, Kŭmo sinhwa is recognised by many as one of the most important and celebrated works of pre-modern Korean fiction. These tales were written by Kim Sisŭp, a respected poet and philosopher who lived and worked during the early Chosŏn dynasty (1435-1493 CE). This collection of tales is considered to be an important part of the Korean canon and is included in teaching curricula in many schools in both North and South Korea. Readers in English now have access to these tales thanks to the translation work of Dennis Würthner.

The title possibly refers to Mount Kŭmo, where the author was living when he wrote these tales (sinhwa). Alternatively, the golden turtle might refer to Korea, as a term employed by the Chinese to refer to the country. Thirdly, the golden turtle has been used to symbolise the acquisition of literary inspiration or brilliance through dreams. It has been asserted by various academic sources that Kim Sisŭp’s transmissions of the strange imitate Jiandeng xinhua by Qu You of Early Ming, albeit in a distinctively Korean context.

The introduction by the translator is extensive and informative, spanning some seventy pages. Scholarly and academic in tone, it covers fascinating aspects related to these tales, and is eminently readable for readers who are not academic researchers. Although these five tales are modelled on chuanqi tales from China, and share resonances with Chinese philosophy and thought, the stories contain references that distinguish them as clearly Korean; for example, all the settings are in historically significant places on the Korean peninsula. The extant complete editions of Kŭmo sinhwa feature the five tales in the following order: “Account of a chŏp’o game at Manbok Temple”; “Biography of Scholar Yi who peered over the wall”; “Travel record of a drunken excursion to Pubyŏk Pavilion”; and “Gazetteer of the southern continent Yŏmbu”; and “Report of [Scholar Han] attending a banquet in the Dragon Palace”.

The tales are bookended by a biographical essay at the beginning, written by Yun Ch’unnyŏn; and a brief note at the end of the book, by Kim Sisŭp written in the spring of the year 1473. A glossary and notes at the end of the book are thorough and furnish relevant detail.

There were several accounts of Kim Sisŭp as a precocious and gifted child, given to visions and prophecies. He did not meet King Sejong in person but received many accolades for his creation of verses. Despite praises from many quarters, Kim Sisŭp was recorded as saying that he was uncomfortable with such attention, and that he did not enjoy glory and fame. In 1453 a coup d’état by Prince Suyang and his followers led to the deposition of the current ruler Tanjong. Kim Sisŭp, then twenty-one, registered his protest by shaving his head and adopting an alternate life as a Buddhist monk, with his Dharma name being Sŏlcham. Nonetheless, he kept his beard as a remnant of his previous life as a Confucian monk. Many have speculated as to the mysterious hybrid nature of his practices.

Social participation and public service were foundational ideas of Confucianism. Kim Sisŭp’s action of renouncing his status as a Confucian monk meant two things: that he refused to serve the new king; and thereby lost the legitimisation and status afforded by his previous role.

In these five tales of the strange, the narrative structure provides the scaffolding for characters to express their feelings and views in elaborate verse. The literary allusions are rich and referenced by the translator, allowing both academic and non-academic readers to discover and learn the connections and contexts of such references. The poetry often takes centre stage while the prose becomes backgrounded in contrast.

As Daniel Hsieh writes in Love and Women in Early Chinese Fiction (2008), strange tales were the creative provenance of male scholars, and often reflected their fears of the feminine. This resulted in misogynistic depictions of female ghosts and fox spirits as evil or malevolent, enticing men to their death or destruction.

Interestingly, Kim Sisŭp’s tales are markedly different. Highly romantic in tone, the stories depict men who fall in love with female ghosts, aspiring at great personal cost to remain faithful to their beloved; in the first tale, Scholar Yang goes to great extent to mourn his ghost-wife’s death, performing rituals so her ghost finds satisfaction. It is noteworthy that this subverts the patriarchal paradigm, since it is the male who grieves and serves to witness the female’s virtuous life and suffering. As a result of these propitiatory actions performed by Scholar Yang, the female ghost becomes reborn in the next life as a man. The ending demonstrates Kim Sisŭp’s understanding of the plight of women and their vulnerability in the patriarchal world of men.

In the second tale, “Biography of Scholar Yi who peered over the wall”, Scholar Yi and his love interest Miss Ch’oe trade poems as part of the courtship ritual, a practice common in other ancient tales. The narrative takes interesting turns, however, when the Ch’oe parents’ initial opposition, based on Scholar Yi’s lower status, is shed out of love and protectiveness for their ailing daughter. The lovers are betrothed after a matchmaking process. A conventional love story would have ended there. However, Kim Sisŭp segues into recounting the political strife during the year 1361, when the Red Turbans burn and destroy houses and cattle. Scholar Yi flees to a remote area with his family. He and his wife gather the remains of their parents, build graves for them, and make sacrificial offerings. However, his wife is later captured, killed, and dismembered. The narrative continues with the recounting of the loss and devastation suffered by Scholar Yi and the extreme grief he experiences. The tale not only highlights the duties of children to their parents, but also describing the horrors of war and attendant devastation. Scholar Yi’s ghost-wife returns for a while but cannot continue to remain with her husband in the earth realm.

The encounter between Scholar Hong and the Immortal beauty in the third tale “Travel record of a drunken excursion to Pubyŏk Pavilion” contrasts the boundlessness of the immortal realm with the “dust-like world where time is unyielding” (page 112). There are allusions to the relative worthlessness of material wealth and political power: A king’s travel lodge has turned into a house for the monks, and a former king was buried on Tiger Hill (page 113).

There are several perspectives as to how to interpret or approach these five tales. Do we read the struggles of the various characters in these tales as Kim Sisŭp’s criticisms of the political and bureaucratic issues of his time? Or do we view these struggles predominantly from a spiritual perspective, as assertions of the inconvertible relationship between mundane reality and the netherworld? The predominant opinion, as suggested by Würthner, is that the author was using these tales as platforms for severe criticisms of the political climate and issues of the time. This is especially evident in the collection’s fourth tale “Gazetteer of the southern continent Yŏmbu”: King Yama asserts that the ordinary people have the right to rise up against an unjust ruler (page 125-126):

When the people sing praises, the arrival of floods or droughts is heaven’s way of warning the human ruler to act cautiously. When the people grieve and complain, the appearance of auspicious events is the way seductive demons flatter the human ruler so as to make him act even more arrogantly and self-indulgently. In the days when emperors and kings throughout the dynasties saw as the arrival of auspicious events, would the people have lived peacefully and at ease or would they have screamed that they were being wronged?

In the fifth and final tale about Scholar Han being summoned by the Dragon King (“Report of [Scholar Han] attending a banquet in the Dragon Palace”), the poetry is presented as songs by spirit attendants. This tale echoes with visions of a utopia which exists outside of the human realm, where the ocean spirits and marine animals such as a crab and turtle figure prominently. At the end of this tale, Scholar Han is escorted back to the mortal realm by two attendants of the Dragon King. When Scholar Han opens his eyes, he discovers he is lying on the floor of his living room, with the treasures he was given, still in his possession. Yet he never shows these gifts to other humans. The ending of this tale shows the scholar retiring to a mountain retreat, no longer concerning himself with personal renown (page 144).

The note in Chapter 7 by the author himself echoes with the ending of the fifth tale (page 145):

Since the autumn of the year imjin [1472], I have lived in seclusion in P’okch’ŏn Study Hall [K. P’okch’ŏn chŏngsa] [on Mount Surak] east of the city. I have divined on the site of a hut so that I might remain there till the end of my years.

Kim Sisŭp‘s five tales, richly rendered in English translation by Dennis Würthner, attest to his commitment to voice political criticisms and dissatisfactions through the work of the imagination, his golden turtle dreams.

How to cite: Kwa, Lydia. “Found in Translation: Tales of the Strange by a Korean Confucian Monk.” Cha: An Asian Literary Journal, 13 Apr. 2024, chajournal.blog/2024/04/13/tales-of-the-strange.

Lydia Kwa has published two books of poetry (The Colours of Heroines, 1992; sinuous, 2013) and five novels (This Place Called Absence, 2000; The Walking Boy, 2005 and 2019; Pulse, 2010 and 2014; Oracle Bone, 2017; A Dream Wants Waking, 2023). A third book of poetry from time to new will be published by Gordon Hill Press in Fall 2024. [All contributions by Lydia Kwa.]