by T'aejun Yi
“I should have gone there from the beginning!”
“Where do you mean?”
“If I go to see Headmaster Pak, he would lend me ten thousand won, wouldn’t he?”
Pak was headmaster of the middle school where Han had worked for twenty years. Even though he no longer worked there, they had stayed in touch, and from time to time Headmaster Pak would ask Han for an appraisal when he wanted to buy an old book or painting.
“If you go there, he’d lend you money to be sure. Why wouldn’t he be delighted and sure to welcome you, when he doesn’t have anyone significant on his side these days? But if I were you, I would think carefully before going there.”
“How come?”
“I doubt if your daughter would accept the money if it came from him, and your son-in-law might not eat those meals either.”
“I see, is that because he’s what these days they call the ‘bourgeoisie’ or something like that?”
“Well, it would be better not to go to him. More than a few people have begun frequenting houses such as his after getting into debt and got caught up in other people’s political parties, and then ended up supporting some wealthy man, however absurd it might be in their circumstances, and become what we used to call ‘deputies’ or ‘guard dogs’ in the Jap language.”
“What are you talking about! You think I’m going to become a runner for Headmaster Pak just because of ten thousand won? You think I’m that spineless!”
Han stormed out of Sŏng’s house in anger.
The alleyway was dark, but Headmaster Pak’s front gate seemed just as prosperous as in the past. Two private cars and an American military truck were parked there.
Darn, he has visitors!
The fact that Han hesitated and waivered on the approach to the gate seemed to raise the suspicions of the foreign soldiers. One man, who looked at least nine feet tall, jumped down from his jeep, shouting something incomprehensible, and blocked the way in an aggressive manner. Han was not one to simply back down and walk away in such situations. He tried to pass through without any small talk and the nine-foot giant bent down over him like a totem pole, bringing a bolt of lightning down before the gaunt Han’s eyes. Han could not tell what this kind of strike would be called in the sport of boxing that these people loved so much, but it was a knockout to be sure, and he collapsed on the spot.
The following day Han summoned his daughter to the hospital in Chae-dong, where he lay prostrate in a second-floor room. All color had drained from her lips. But her anger did not stem only from her father’s mishap, the broken cheekbone, now swollen up like a bowl, and the blackened and bruised eye above it. She seemed rather to think this mishap was the natural consequence of going to see one of Syngman Rhee’s gang, the gang of the enemy that people were putting their lives on the line to fight, and trying to plead for those people, as if their brave battle was nothing more than an unfortunate situation. She was so furious her teeth quivered, and she burst into tears at the pathetic nature of it all.
“Father, why do you have so little judgment? How can you be so incapable of understanding the political situation? Don’t you understand how extreme the age we’re living in is? I visited him in prison last night. Someone came to tell me that the policeman on guard was on our side, and so I visited for a short while, but when I told him about the private meals he exploded. He told me off, saying don’t I know how many comrades in here can’t afford private meals, and how could I be so clueless about the situation. And then, when I told him that you’re here, he was so surprised and he begged me not to let you go out too much. Do you know why he said that? He said that you would go to see someone like Headmaster Pak and end up making some absurd criticism of North Korea. Can’t you just think about it a bit? What’s right and what’s wrong …”
“…”
Han did not open his unbandaged eye, but his lotus-bud-shaped beard trembled slightly. The daughter continued,
“Father, didn’t you say that even though North Korea was doing well it was racing ahead alone and that was why unification couldn’t happen? If the reactionaries heard that they would jump for joy. Which side was it that tore up the work of the Soviet–U.S. Joint Committee? Which side was it that proposed the removal of both the Soviet and American armies at the same time, and which side opposed this? And which side has gone ahead and set up its own government first? Why are you saying all these things that don’t match the truth? What are you doing if not defending the traitors? Father, you’re a reactionary.”
“What?”
Han’s one eye shot open as wide as it could.
“Who’s calling me a reactionary?”
“Just think about it. Are your arguments more helpful to the democratic forces or to the reactionaries?”
“I’m nonpartisan! I am simply Korean, and I am neutral!”
“Father, you’re still living in a dream world. I mean, do you still not understand how ambiguous it is to be nonpartisan right now? There’s no such thing as an uncommitted middle ground at the moment. You call yourself neutral and believe that being nonpartisan is the most just approach to take, but you end up playing into the interests of the reactionaries all the time, without even realizing it. To go to that man Pak’s house … Korean people should never go to that man’s house, except to throw a bomb at it.”
“I have my own sense and ideas about things, so you can take your opinions and keep them to yourself.”
“Father, who’s asking you to become a leftist thinker or fighter? But you have your own sense of justice, don’t you? Why can’t you at least support the side that recognizes the correctness of your own principles, according to your own ideas? What I’m saying is, just stick to the side that you recognize to be right. Don’t you understand how drastically the times are changing at the moment? If you wander around hesitating like this, you’ll be thrown to the wind. You might not be able to be a hero of history, but you don’t want to be its dust, do you?”
“Dust …”
He spat out his daughter’s words with a bitter smile.
She had left the children at home and could not stay long.
The following day, Sŏng visited the hospital.
“What on earth happened?”
“It’s all because I didn’t listen to you!”
It was only to Sŏng that Han could honestly express his regret at having gone to Headmaster Pak’s house.
“Those bastards are crazy about boxing … they even pretend to box as they walk around in the street, you know. And then, when they feel like trying out a real move, they just knock someone over, anyone! There’s all these people who were just walking down the street minding their own business, and the next minute they’ve been felled like corpses, by … what do they call that now … an ‘uppercut,’ where they hit you under the chin or on the eyebrow. That’s why, if you see an American, it’s best to keep your distance.”
“But why has Headmaster Pak got American soldiers stationed at his gate? Is that the way things are these days?”
“He probably had some important American bastard visiting him. Especially since he’s been making his share from that oil swindle lately.”
“What do you mean, oil swindle?”
“What, you mean you haven’t heard about the oil swindle here in the South?”
Sŏng stubbed out his cigarette and explained the gist of the matter.
“When they failed to pay for the electricity from the North, and ultimately refused to use it any more, their ulterior motive was to sell more of their own oil. After Liberation, the Alliance of Scientists opposed the military government’s plan to import processed oil, they argued that we have a fine refining plant here in the South and should only import crude oil. If we brought in a hundred million won’s worth of crude oil and refined it here, we’d provide a living for Korean factories and workers and produce three hundred million won’s worth of gasoline and diesel from that hundred million won’s worth of crude oil. But those sham
eless crooks, they accused the members of the Alliance of Scientists of belonging to the Communist Party and had them arrested and locked up, didn’t they? And then, they prevented news of the debate from leaking out and gave the oil import rights to the agents of their very own oil magnets, like Texas and Sun Rising, so they could import refined petroleum, gasoline, and diesel oil, which made them three hundred million from a hundred million won.”
“What thieving bastards!”
They were no longer mere bastards but thieving bastards, and a fire blazed in Han’s one remaining functional eye as he asked another question.
“But, you mean to say that President Syngman Rhee just stood by and let this happen? What kind of nation building is that?”
“Just listen to you! Stood by? He’s sat there stamping his seal onto all of these hoodlums’ swindles in the name of aid, or agreements between Korea and the United States, isn’t that why they call him the stooge of Wall Street, who sold his country and his people? And your very own Headmaster Pak is one of the ringleaders in his traitorous party. It was Pak who obtained the rights to distribute that petroleum throughout South Korea, with the result that he’s made more than thirty times the amount of money he had before Liberation. Is this going on in the North too? Has the North become a playground for these foreign merchant bastards and the Korean bastards who’re scraping every last drop of blood and sweat from their own people, all while filling up their own bellies running errands for these thieving bastards?”
“…”
“You’ve no idea what’s going on right next to you, living up there in the North!” Sŏng sighed.
“No idea? Okay, let’s agree I’ve no idea. But what has everybody in the South been doing about all these traitors in their midst?”
“Just listen to you again! Isn’t that exactly why everyone’s rising up? Why do you think your son-in-law has been arrested? Do you know how many tens of thousands have died? How many hundreds of thousands are already in prison? Damn it!”
“But, why can’t hundreds of thousands stand up to a few traitors?”
“Have I ever heard anything so pathetic! Do you think those few traitors are lording it over us on their own steam?”
“You’re right, it’s America, isn’t it!”
Han forced a sad smile.
“What good are even ten Americas? Those bastards are merchants to the core. If they see that their interests are not being served, they won’t stick around. In the past we were innocents, like tigers eating tobacco, but these days we know better, don’t we? Don’t the workers know that there’s a country like the Soviet Union? And the peasants too! If they didn’t know what the bastards are like it would be different, but now those bastards, if they’re confronted with awareness, solidarity, and absolute resistance, not one of them will risk their life when it comes down to a fight. Just look at what’s happening in China!”
“But what do those guys like Syngman Rhee and Headmaster Pak imagine is their future, when they stay in place despite losing the people’s trust?”
“They’ll flee to America, of course. Isn’t that why they hoard dollars and precious stones? They say that Syngman Rhee’s Western concubine is sitting on all the diamonds and gems in Seoul.”
“And leave Korea?”
“Do you think those bastards would miss Korea? What do you think they care about Korean culture?”
“You’re right! They even send their own daughters out in bridal headgear if some American bastard comes to their party! It’s outrageous, to think that someone could insult their own country’s cultural customs like that! Why don’t they make the American bastards dress up as grooms …”
“Don’t even mention it. They despise everything Korean even more than during the Japanese occupation, and we’re surrounded by frivolous American things instead. That’s why those traitors are fine with any country as long as dollars are on offer, and unification through American decadence would be most convenient for them. Then, even if they’re thrown out, there’s nothing to remind them of Korea.… Isn’t that why these days the leftists are fighting globalism? What with the United States telling every country to drop their national pride and the North Atlantic Alliance being the first step to a European federation …”
“It’s only right to fight policies like those that aim to destroy other peoples.”
“And that’s not the only thing that the leftists are right about.”
“Well, it’s a good job I didn’t meet with Headmaster Pak, even if I did come off worse for wear …”
“That’s right.”
“…”
Han said no more. Sŏng was not a chatterbox by nature, but he also was not one to sit in silence, and soon he raised a new topic.
“Recently I’ve been wondering about something …”
“What?”
“You would know the answer better than I, but if Pak Yŏnam or Kim Wandang were alive today, what side do you think they’d be on? That’s what …”
“Well, that is an interesting question! And?”
“Well, Yŏnam exposed the yangban nobility with satire and was always interested in economic thought, so there’s no way he wouldn’t be a communist today.”
“And Wandang?”
“What did he mean by ‘seeking the truth from facts’? Wasn’t he advocating the science of what is actual and casting aside the empty idealistic philosophy of Neo-Confucianism? Wandang was a leader of the Practical School, so if he were around today he would be a giant of social science. What do you think?”
“That’s a difficult question …”
Han listened to Sŏng’s opinion some more, but he did not offer his own response.
Han spent two more lonely days lying prone in the hospital and gazing at a test chart for colorblindness, which was affixed to the wall across from his bed.
Was I colorblind when I looked at North Korea? I could see the whole, but there were certain things I couldn’t see properly …
There was no end to the noise of passing cars in the street outside the window. He did not even need to look to know that what sounded like the whistle of a hawk speeding by were actually the jeeps driven by American soldiers, and it was American army trucks that shook the building and made a snarling sound, which sounded like some giant monster straining itself.
I have seen it now. I have seen South Korea until my eyes have burst! I don’t want to see any more! But the fact that I don’t want to see any more is a sign that I’m no reactionary!
He had been angry with his daughter for calling him a reactionary. He had not come through the thirty-six years of Japanese colonial rule living in a servile manner. He had always liked people who knew how to protest, like Mr. Kim, whose family had been selling off his library since he had been imprisoned for taking part in the fight against the May 10 elections and whom he had considered a friend despite their age difference. Kim had also favored Yŏnam and Wandang most of all and even owned a few of Wandang’s pieces of calligraphy, despite a lack of interest in that art.
As for Han, of all the books he had collected, he had read those by Yŏnam the most, beginning with his Diary of a Journey to Jehol, and he had also read extensively in Wandang’s voluminous collected works, although in a print edition. His regret at missing out on the old edition of his Collected Works this time had stemmed less from his compulsion to collect everything than from the spirit of a disciple who revered Wandang himself.
If Yŏnam or Wandang were alive today, would their sense of justice and spirit of practical thought lead them to join the leftists or not? No, they would not merely join, they would be standing at the forefront leading the way!
Han could not but agree with Sŏng. His forehead burned when he realized that he deserved the scorn not only of his own daughter and the people he had seen in the Tongdaemun Police Station cells, or the middle-school student and laborer in the Myŏngdong alley, but also the scorn and a reprimand from the sages whom he still revered today, such as Yŏnam
and Wandang.
Calling me a reactionary was going too far! But it is true that I have been conservative! Conservative? Am I really a conservative?
He sat up in bed with a start. He picked up a fan and tried to cool his still throbbing face in fits and starts.
Conservative? But that’s not who I really am! The conservatives are noxious pests who block the progress of their country and society in any age! Am I really conservative?
Han was supposed to rest in the hospital for another couple of days, but discharged himself with his one eye still bandaged. He did not feel like returning to his daughter’s house in his depressed state of mind, and instead climbed up to the Blue Cloud Pavilion, which he had frequented when he lived in Seoul before.
The pavilion appeared bare through the once-dense pine grove, but it was perfect for taking in a view of the center of the city, even with just one eye. At the foot of Namsan Mountain in the distance, he could see the site where the Residency-General had stood forty years before. In the place of the Japanese flag, an American flag flapped above what was now the American military police base.
He walked along the ridge of the hill to the Half Misty Gate. From there, he could look down as if at the back of his hand upon the Tŏksu Palace, where the UN Temporary Commission on Korea was based, and Kyŏngbok Palace, where Syngman Rhee had set up his traitorous cabinet in the American military administration’s wake. American army billets were crammed into the courtyard in front of the Main Hall and American army trucks wriggled about like a swarm of ants. In the midst of it all, shiny sedan cars were entering and exiting the two palaces.
He felt indescribably sad and depressed to witness such chaos. He recalled his youth, when he had watched with his own eyes the scene of Hanyang in the final years of the kingdom. The scene today seemed little different from back then, when Itō Hirobumi had sat in his two-horse carriage wearing a top hat, and Song Pyŏngjun, Yi Wanyong, and the rest of the Ilchinhoe gang had been pulled in and out of the Tŏksu and Kyŏngbok Palaces in their rickshaws.