Yeon-am

The 20 letters, diaries and eulogies that make up Yeon-am’s work in Chinese characters amount to 50 pages worth of material when translated into Korean. But Professor Park, an expert on Yeon-am, explains that despite the lack of quantity, the quality, depth, and beauty of the writing make Yeon-am’s work a classic.

Let’s first look at the feelings conveyed by translating the original pieces into Korean. The following is a phrase that Yeon-am composed while observing his eldest sister’s coffin being transported across the river after she died at the age of 43.

“At the time, the blue-black color of the hills far across the river reminded me of my sister’s hair the day she was married, while the river was like her mirror, and the twilight moon resembled her eyebrows.”

Yeon-am’s writing evokes much of the same responses as Wolmyeongsa’s “Jemangmaega” (Eulogy for a Sister) and Seo Jeong-joo’s “Beside the Chrysanthemum.” Both describe affection for one’s sister.

Another example is Yeon-am’s description of the rainbow which appeared at the Gangwha strait in Gimpo. “Observing from afar, the rain between the seacoast and the boat is like a veil of white silk.” It is certainly a pithy and apt expression. Through one sentence he is able to draw a picture of the scene.

Yet another masterpiece is a letter expressing Yeon-am’s thoughts on Sima Qian’s “The Book of History.” “When one observes a child catching a butterfly, one can understand the emotions of Sima Qian. Folding the knees in half, slanting the thighs, raising the heels, and placing the fingers to a Y formation, the child walks cautiously forward and pauses for a moment, when in that instant the butterfly flutters away. Turning around and realizing that nobody is present, the child smiles and feels embarrassed and angry at the same time, which is exactly what Sima Qian must have felt when he wrote the Book of History.” It is certainly a unique interpretation of history.

Professor Park’s ability to bring to light the value of the writings is also remarkable. In Yeon-am’s writing where he walks at dawn around the Jongno and Cheonggyecheon area with the people who were discouraged from achieving their higher aspirations, a dog of the Oh breed suddenly appears. Oh is a wild species from the Tibetan mountainous areas, which was introduced to Korea from the Chinese Ching dynasty, was hard to domesticate and was a picky eater, not being able to eat anything but clean meat, and thus could not mix with the other dogs but strayed alone. Professor Park interprets this particular writing by pointing out that Yeon-am used the Oh as a metaphor for his group, and that he was criticizing the ruling class for rejecting the advanced civilization of the Ching dynasty and ostracizing such intellectuals as themselves. It is a veritable type of modernism wherein the author intuitively understands his world by using the form of epiphany.

Professor Park points out how Yeon-am’s writings brought about a radical change to the traditional literature utilizing Chinese characters, which in turn reflects Yeon-am at his best. On his writing that reflects the tale of the household with the motto “Bamboo bank”, Yeon-am reflects on the cliché of using bamboo as a symbol of fidelity, and says that “I won’t compose any writings on bamboos,” then later changes his mind after observing a quality of the bamboo in the single-minded expression of the head of the household. It is interesting how he compares humans to bamboos, rather than the other way round.

Classics gain prominence not merely through its own merits. It can become a classic only when numerous annotations provide re-interpretations of the work. In this respect Yeon-am’s works possess that elegance and vitality that calls for further studies. It is for us to reflect whether we have the attitude of reflection for this 200-year old masterpiece.

Chae-Hyun Kwon confetti@donga.com