Hubert Robert, element from “Hearth on the Paris Opera Home of the Palais-Royal.” Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons, Licensed underneath CC0 2.0.
Yi Sang (1910–1937) was a author in Korea in the course of the thirties, when the nation was underneath the rule of the Japanese empire. His poems, tales, letters, and essays, written in each Korean and Japanese, are celebrated as a number of the best Korean literature of his time, and bear wide-ranging influences: the Chinese language classics, the overall concept of relativity, and Dadaism and surrealism, each of which he’s credited with introducing into the Korean literary lexicon. He wrote throughout a interval when Koreans might be jailed with out trial on the idea of mere suspicion of thought crimes, and, shortly after being imprisoned in Tokyo by Japanese authorities in 1937, succumbed to tuberculosis in a hospital on the age of twenty-seven.
Almost ninety years after his demise, Yi Sang is probably greatest remembered for his intricate poetry, which options placing, difficult photographs. Within the poem “Crow’s Eye View: Poem No. 15,” he writes, “I sneak right into a room with a mirror. To free myself from the mirror. However the me-inside-the-mirror at all times enters on the similar time and places on a dark face. He lets me know he’s sorry. Simply as I’m locked up due to him he’s locked up shuddering due to me.” Like a lot of his contemporaries, Yi Sang additionally contributed visitor columns to newspapers. These writings, collected underneath column titles like “Early Spring Sketches” and “Miscellany Below the Autumn Lamp,” provided incisive, humorous, and compact observations of life in Seoul within the thirties. He captured the grace and chaos of city existence amongst nameless fellow city-dwellers going about their every day routines.
The items that observe come from the column “Early Spring Sketches,” which was serialized from early to late March 1936. Encountering Yi Sang via these sketches gives a glimpse right into a luminous spirit whose disillusionment with the modernity of his period didn’t culminate in despair however relatively, because the poet John Ashbery as soon as wrote, “broke right into a rainbow of tears.”
—Jack Jung, translator
Uninsured Hearth (March 3, 1936)
The constructing subsequent door is engulfed in flames. The sky above is murky, stuffed with livid flurries of snow and plumes of smoke that resemble blobs of ink vomited out by squids. It’s rumored that the burning construction is a big manufacturing unit that saved numerous chemical compounds. From the raging bonfire, rainbow-colored smoke billows out intermittently, akin to coughs. The chemical compounds are exploding.
It might sound imply, however I imagine there isn’t an individual on this planet who doesn’t get pleasure from watching hearth. So, I discover myself within the yard, arms crossed, enthralled by the fiery glow as its heat caresses my face. It’s not completely disagreeable; for a second, I revel on this ecstasy.
The manufacturing unit’s poorly constructed barracks ignite, quickly engulfing your entire constructing. When the hearth’s insatiable tongue begins licking on the neighboring slum homes, which resemble crab shells, the firefighters lastly arrive. Their arrival brings leisure. In a three-pronged assault, the firefighters direct their hoses on the hearth, making a grand spectacle atop the roofs. Their efforts appear futile. Helplessness permeates the scene.
The place I stand, the hearth’s warmth is barely tolerable. It have to be far more difficult for these firefighters, who’re so near it that they seem to have entered the inferno. But the hearth intensifies with every passing minute. After futile makes an attempt to tame the flames with their hoses, the firefighters descend from the roofs, nonetheless gripping the information of their hoses as if they’ll not face up to the warmth. What did they hope to realize with their feeble jets of water? Nonetheless, the firefighters redirect their hoses and start spraying water on the slum homes close to the hearth. The residents, with their blackened laundry poles and chimneys, rush to salvage their furnishings and belongings. The firefighters resort to ripping down the homes.
Presumably, their purpose is to halt the hearth’s path, which is fueled by the sturdy northwesterly wind. Nonetheless, the unaffected slum residents seemingly really feel victimized. They bear witness to their furnishings and possessions being ruined via the demolition and water spray.
Folks hustle within the slim alley close to my dwelling, bustling out and in. Curiosity piques my curiosity, and I resolve to analyze. Drawer cupboards, coat hangers, tin spoons, tax-payment reminders, a violin, a fox-fur scarf, a worn-out mat, excessive heels, and a coal range muddle the alley. These odd remnants have been discarded, forming a market-like pile. Bedclothes soaked in water lie ruined and unpleasant.
It’s then I understand the hearth would possibly attain my dwelling. I shortly return dwelling, discovering my mom trembling, clutching and pulling soiled blankets in confusion. A sudden laughter escapes me as I ask, “The place will you are taking that bundle after wrapping it like that?” We dwell in a small rented room, so even when every little thing had been to burn down, our loss could be minimal in comparison with dropping a complete home.
By way of the western window of our room, I glimpse the hearth’s shiny gentle. It seems that this place can even succumb to the flames. Effectively, I feel to myself, whether it is meant to burn, then let it burn. Embracing my inevitable nihilism, I retreat to the yard to proceed observing the hearth.
Regardless of this, I ponder what I ought to rescue from my dwelling if the hearth had been to eat your entire neighborhood. I draw a clean. Does this indicate that I’m detached to every little thing that’s going up in smoke? My mom, then again, continues to carry sentimental worth for her tattered child quilt and the bug-infested cupboard.
I ponder if there’s a place to go together with these discarded rags and scraps as soon as they’re taken out to the road. Sadly, there may be nowhere to go. Maybe a member of the family or a buddy might supply us shelter, however discovering somebody who would accommodate my total destitute household with out hesitation is very unlikely.
Disappointingly, the hearth is extinguished earlier than it reaches our neighborhood. I really feel a way of anticlimax after anticipating such a grand spectacle. Concurrently, an indescribable desolation settles inside me. I later be taught that the manufacturing unit had hearth insurance coverage. Regardless of dropping their alcohol bottles, they’ll obtain substantial compensation. Hearth insurance coverage proves to be a extra benevolent deity than some other.
In poor health-tempered ideas with none foundation in actuality emerge—“Rattling it, every little thing ought to have burned down!” In such a temper, I don’t even think about the implications for my mom. I yearn to be a bare-bodied particular person with no possessions, not even a single penny to my title. In fact, there isn’t a probability that the hearth insurance coverage god would compensate me in any approach …
The Generosity of Cities (March 20, 1936)
The extent to which the generosity of cities will proceed to dwindle stays unsure. I as soon as heard a disturbing story. It was stated that in Shanghai, deformed infants, typically already deceased, are discarded into trash cans. Every morning, the sanitation employees arrive whistling. Upon discovering one in every of these grotesquely deformed infants, they by no means react with shock. They merely set the toddler apart and proceed to gather the trash. To them, the sight of a deformed toddler just isn’t uncommon, however they acknowledge that it isn’t waste. It’s not inside their job duties to look after it; no matter befalls it isn’t their concern. At first, I questioned the authenticity of this story, nevertheless it appeared believable sufficient. It’s difficult to fathom simply how depleted and barren the generosity of cities has develop into.
It has been almost a yr since my household relocated to this row home. Below the identical shared roof, a number of households reside in separate compartments. Mr. Park, Mr. Kim, Yi Sang, Mr. Choi—names inscribed on plaques of various sizes that dangle on every compartment’s entrance door. But nobody actually is aware of anybody else. Every individual’s occupation stays a thriller to the others. Single older people like me enter via the entrance gate, whereas wives and grown sisters use the again door. The husbands usually depart within the morning or noon and return within the night or at evening via the entrance gate.
A lot of the ladies keep at dwelling. Within the evenings, they collect by the water pipe to scrub rice. In contrast to males, they’re not reticent round each other. They freely share tales, some revealing secrets and techniques greatest left untold. They chatter concerning the shortcomings of others and weave tales of home drama. This act of storytelling finally discloses their husbands’ professions, subtly undermining their males’s dignity. Nonetheless, their air is eerily calm.
From my dwelling’s restroom window, I can see Room No. X of the second row home, which was briefly occupied by a younger couple final summer time. They argued continuously. As autumn arrived, the husband abruptly left. The younger spouse subsequently grew to become a well-liked hostess at a neighborhood café, a merry spinster. Maybe realizing the row home wasn’t conducive to discovering a brand new husband, she finally moved on as nicely. The room now stands vacant. Unsurprisingly, there are not any guidelines of etiquette in these row homes obliging residents to greet or bid farewell to neighbors after they transfer.
Upon the couple’s departure, the neighbor, who’d been subjected to their incessant squabbles, expressed reduction, evaluating it to having an aching tooth extracted. Throughout that interval, one other younger couple lived close by. Each had been obese, they usually’d misplaced their child because of a miscarriage. They started to shed their extra weight, the lack of which surpassed the load of their deceased toddler. I later found they lacked the funds to boost the kid had it survived and to keep up the mom’s weight throughout being pregnant.
When the climate turned colder, a household of 4 siblings moved subsequent door to us. The 2 brothers attended B Technical Faculty, and the 2 older sisters attended W Excessive Faculty. Every night, the siblings’ common music grated on my father’s conventional sensibilities. Oddly, I’ve by no means encountered the brothers, and my sister has by no means conversed with the sisters.
On New 12 months’s Day, the neighbors reverse us ready white rice desserts. I hoped they’d share some with us, however we obtained not a single slice. We determined to maintain our panfried leftovers to ourselves, having initially deliberate to share. We didn’t think about the family of siblings when cooking, as a result of they hadn’t ready any vacation meals. We felt irritated, suspecting they anticipated receiving meals from us and rice desserts from the opposite neighbors. In fact, I might have been mistaken about this. As winter gave method to spring, a younger girl dwelling on the finish of our row home transitioned from being a main spouse to a concubine. Though no sympathy was prolonged to her, folks nonetheless discovered it in themselves to scorn her potbellied husband. But no person took any motion. Debt collectors started visiting our dwelling in rising numbers. Someday, the owner arrived with a bailiff and positioned repossession notices on all our belongings because of overdue hire. No one witnessed it; the 4 siblings subsequent door had been at college, and the neighbors throughout would possibly as nicely have been sightless. I believed it was a blessing in disguise; it might have been extra humiliating if your entire neighborhood knew our plight.
“Howdy—”
“Who’re you in search of?”
“Is that this Mr. X’s home?”
“No!”
“Then the place is his place?”
“How ought to I do know that?”
After this dialog occurred at our door between me and a stranger, my father suggested, “It’s greatest to not inform them, even when .”
“Why?”
“They’re seemingly debt collectors, which might be a shameful revelation for Mr. X.” So, how far more will the generosity of this metropolis wither and dry up?
Vintage Obsession (March 24–25, 1936)
Some artifacts had been excavated from a grave, apparently crafted and utilized by the peoples of the traditional Silla or Goryeo kingdoms. They had been seemingly used to current meals, resembling bean sprouts and boiled beef, or to pour wine. In essence, these wares had been most likely instrumental within the on a regular basis sustenance of those historical societies. Nonetheless, I battle to know the joy surrounding their excavation. Why are these damaged objects so extremely valued? Watching the identical fervor over wares from the Yi Dynasty, which solely ended just a few a long time in the past, is much more puzzling.
Whereas we should always respect the achievements of our ancestors, objects like these family wares appear nugatory, but folks appear to crave them. In comparison with the technical sophistication and progressiveness of a glass dish, this excavated earthenware seems to be crudely made. The obsession with antiques appears to me as an excessive type of laziness I want to expunge from our society.
Sometimes, somebody I do know boasts about their acquisition. “Look, I’ve managed to purchase a Yi Dynasty jar cheaply, come and see!” As a rule, they’ve overpaid for an object of minimal aesthetic worth. It’s indistinguishable from an merchandise you would possibly discover within the kitchenware part of the Mitsukoshi division retailer. There is perhaps some worth in it, however it’s inconsequential.
It goes with out saying that jars and pots weren’t initially supposed to own aesthetic worth. Nonetheless, sometimes, an object emerges from a grave that demonstrates a mix of inventive parts, albeit being amateurish and certain crafted for sensible use. After being buried for a very long time, and as our occasions and cultures have drastically shifted, such an object could now appear outstanding, skillfully made, and even extremely inventive. To mistake it as purely inventive and to rave about it demonstrates profound ignorance.
I as soon as visited a museum the place numerous excavated artifacts had been displayed chronologically and categorized meticulously in keeping with their goal, type, and different classifications. Seeing the clear and easy association of the gallery, I might lastly respect the wonder and worth of such artifacts.
The worth of antiques seemingly lies in archaeological pursuits. The sense of magnificence one would possibly really feel for them most likely stems from our deep eager for our ancestors. We should foster the examine of historical past to be able to perceive our previous. The importance of antiques really shines once we use them to be taught concerning the lives, people tradition, and people arts of a sure interval. Nonetheless, when antiques are hidden away, their context obscured, their goal ceases.
Viewing many artifacts from an identical interval with a shared goal and elegance permits us to achieve concrete historic information about that point. In distinction, inspecting a single artifact, like a bone fragment from a Pithecanthropus, solely results in imprecise speculations concerning the previous. Some collectors obsessively collect antiques, storing them of their bedrooms out of worry that others would possibly uncover their worth. Within the context of archaeological pursuits, such habits is detestable, and their stingy notion of personal possession of historical artifacts is reprehensible.
Nonetheless, collectors who hoard artifacts is perhaps thought-about good residents in comparison with those that buy artifacts cheaply solely to promote them for a big revenue. These people imagine their actions to be virtuous, but I imagine it disrupts our foreign money system.
An acquaintance as soon as advised me, “I used to be lately deceived into shopping for this merchandise. Nonetheless, I didn’t lose a lot as a result of I managed to promote it off instantly at solely a slight loss. I averted catastrophe.” Basically, he purchased a forgery at a excessive value, found its inauthenticity, and bought it to another person for a barely lower cost. He views this as successful story.
It’s laborious to fathom the mindset of somebody who deliberately forges an merchandise of such little worth that it wouldn’t even function an ashtray. It’s disturbing to assume that such deceptions pervade the vintage world. I’ve heard of a collector who purchased a well-known sword for a fortune solely to find it was a forgery and held a funeral for himself. A counterfeit jar or dish is handed from one deceived particular person to the following, with every new sufferer changing into the following deceiver. This cycle might endure for hundreds of years. Ultimately, folks would possibly begin valuing these forgeries as historic artifacts, saying their origins are in our ancestors’ days.
I’d urge these eccentric collectors to shatter each insignificant dish they see (excluding these with real aesthetic worth). But if I had been to advise them to donate their antiques to a museum, they might seemingly berate me as a lowlife for my audacity.
From an Empty Area (March 12, 1936)
One chilly day, when ice nonetheless held the world in its grip, I stood alone within the yard of Deoksugung Palace. In hotter climate, this place could be teeming with folks lounging on the dry grass, however that day, there have been none. I couldn’t fathom why this expansive space was left vacant. I contemplated the bottom, imagining it is perhaps bored. Maybe it yearned for extra than simply blooming vegetation, bushes, and peculiar rocks and stones. As a substitute, it may need most well-liked the corporate of homes and bustling crowds. It might have yearned to form itself into lengthy, skinny, winding paths nestled between buildings, remodeling into streets bustling with life. It may need wished to really feel the rhythmic steps of {couples} strolling hand in hand, the rumbling of autos traversing its floor. At the very least that was what I imagined the bottom would possibly want on that winter day.
Then, it occurred to me that this floor is perhaps a particular restricted space throughout winter. In my embarrassment, I hurried towards the Daehanmun gate of the palace to go away. As I walked, I heard the distant murmuring of individuals. But the grassy yard was nonetheless empty, save for an previous caramel wrapper tumbling within the wind.
All of a sudden, I observed quite a few {couples} in winter coats, not on the barren floor however merrily skating on a frozen pond the place goldfish often swam. I marveled at this newly found gleaming area. Puzzled, I puzzled concerning the destiny of the goldfish. Might they survive within the freezing water beneath the ice? The numerous scratches from skate blades obscured any view beneath the floor. If it had been clear, I may need noticed a flicker of a goldfish tail. However how deep was this small pond? If it was fully frozen, the fish should have perished. If there was nonetheless flowing water beneath, how disturbed should they’ve been by the unfamiliar noise of the skaters, the supply of which they might not fathom? The enjoyment of this wondrous area demanded that the skaters stay unaware of any misery the fish is perhaps experiencing.
Later that day, as I reclined in a chair on the second flooring of my dwelling, I surveyed the night metropolis and mourned the absence of empty areas on this twilight world. Then, I noticed a formidable empty area far superior to the standard pond on the palace: a building website encircled by wood planks, every bearing an indication for “XX Insurance coverage Firm Development Web site.” As soon as overgrown with weeds, it had remodeled into a real wasteland as they withered and light to sepia. Within the coronary heart of this bustling metropolis, the place there’s hardly area sufficient to drive a nail, such a big empty area appeared like a miracle.
Maybe it had been untouched by human or animal footprints for a very long time, or in any respect. A couple of canine performed there, their shadows stretching within the twilight. It was a real empty area. In fact, our world lacks such areas. Paved roads, muddy fields, forests, and rocky mountains are usually not empty; they’re properties owned by somebody. If we observe this logic, we are able to’t even plant a single blade of grass with out an proprietor’s permission. We are able to solely get pleasure from leisurely walks as a result of the world nonetheless generously grants silent consent. So, in a world devoid of empty areas, I used to be thrilled to find this building website, imagining myself mendacity there, stretching my legs, and having fun with a cigarette. However then, I noticed that it was merely a building website awaiting growth, for XX Insurance coverage Firm’s revenue. Its distinctive function was that, as an alternative of getting a naked concrete flooring, the pavement was was carpeted in dried weeds.
Spring arrived. A solitary plant in a pot in my modest room greeted the season and commenced to blossom. I had used this little pot of filth as a holder for my ink bottle all through the winter. Seeing it bloom, I eliminated the ink bottle, cleared away the scattered dry leaves, and watered it with a jar of fresh water. I felt a way of pleasure, for on this world, this small patch of filth was my solely empty area. Nonetheless, this spherical and flat area was far too small for me to stretch my legs and revel in a cigarette.
Jack Jung, who translated these sketches, studied on the Iowa Writers’ Workshop, the place he was a Truman Capote Fellow. He’s a cotranslator of Yi Sang: Chosen Works, which received the 2021 Aldo and Jeanne Scaglione Prize for a Translation of a Literary Work. He teaches at Davidson Faculty.
