Name Change in Korea

[Series Index]

Dear Korean,

Here's yet another question for you about Korean names. At the end of last semester I was giving speaking tests to our middle school students, and was taking roll based on the name list given at the beginning of the year. However, several of my students had changed their names in those few months. Not changed their English names, I mean their parents changed their Korean names. Why do they do this? Why at such a late age? How common is it?

Brian

Name change in Korea is not particularly common, but it is hardly unheard of either. The number of name changes greatly increased after 2005, after the Supreme Court significantly relaxed the "good cause" required for a name change. As a result, until 2005, the court granted name change in around 80 percent of the cases. After 2005, the court granted name change in around 90 percent of the cases or higher. This leniency led to a greater number of Koreans wanting to change their names. In 2009, there were approximately 170,000 petitions for name change filed with the Supreme Court. (To contextualize the number, consider that Korea's population is approximately 50 million.) In contrast, there were only 46,000 petitions for name change in 2002.

Koreans legally change their names for all kinds of reasons, although most of the reasons are some variations of "I don't like the name." There are those who did not appreciate their parents' sense of humor and desired to change their name to avoid ridicule. Many simply thought their name was too old-fashioned or corny. Some wanted to change their names after a serial killer was revealed to have the same name as they.

There are also reasons that are somewhat specific to Korea. Many petitioners filed the paperwork as a matter of technicality: they did not want to change the names that they use every day, but add or change the Chinese characters in their Sino-Korean name. (To understand the Chinese characters involved in creating a Korean name, please refer to this post.) This is usually tied to seongmyeonghak [성명학], a traditional study of the relation between one's name and one's fortune. Like getting advice from a palm reader, Koreans would sometimes visit a place called jakmyeongso [작명소, "name-maker"], receive an assessment of their names, and change their names if they deem necessary.

Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.

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50 Most Influential K-pop Artists: 12. Rain

[Series Index]

12. Rain [비]

Years of Activity: 1998-present (last regular album in 2008, last single in 2011)

Discography:
Bad Man [나쁜 남자] (2002)
Rain2 (2003)
It's Raining (2004)
Rain's World (2006)
Rainism (2008)

Representative Song:  How to Escape the Sun [태양을 피하는 방법] from Rain2

태양을 피하는 방법
How to Escape the Sun

울고있는 나의 모습 바보 같은 나의 모습
My crying self, my foolish self
환하게 비추는 태양이 싫어 태양이 싫어
I hate the sun, the sun that illuminates it brightly
누군가 날 알아보며 왜 우냐고 물어보면
When someone recognizes me and asks me why I cry
 대답을 해줄 수 없는게 너무 싫었어
I hated that I could not answer

태양을 피하고 싶어서 아무리 달려봐도
No matter how much I run to escape the sun
태양은 계속 내 위에 있고
The sun stays on top of me
너를 너무 잊고 싶어서 아무리 애를 써도
No matter how much I try to forget you
아무리 애를 써도 넌 내 안에 있어
No matter how much I try, you are inside me

아직도 너의 그 미소 나를 만졌던 그 두 손 그리워하는게 너무 싫어서 너무 싫어서
Because I hate, I hate still longing for your smile, those two hands that touched me
많은 사람들속에서 웃고 애길 나누면서 잊어보려 했지만 또 다시 눈물이 흘렀어
I tried to forget, laughing and talking among people, but a tear fell again

태양을 피하고 싶어서 아무리 달려봐도
No matter how much I run to escape the sun
태양은 계속 내 위에 있고
The sun stays on top of me
너를 너무 잊고 싶어서 아무리 애를 써도
No matter how much I try to forget you
아무리 애를 써도 넌 내 안에 있어
No matter how much I try, you are inside me

모두 다 내가 잊은줄 알아
Everyone thinks I forgot everything
하지만 난 미칠것 같아
But I think I'm going crazy
너무 잊고 싶은데
I really want to forget
지우고 싶은데 그게 안돼
I want to erase; but I cannot

태양을 피하고 싶어서 아무리 달려봐도
No matter how much I run to escape the sun
태양은 계속 내 위에 있고
The sun stays on top of me
너를 너무 잊고 싶어서 아무리 애를 써도
No matter how much I try to forget you
아무리 애를 써도 넌 내 안에 있어
No matter how much I try, you are inside me

(rap)
너무 깊이 박혀 뺄 수 없는 가시같이
Like a thorn that is stuck too deeply to be pulled
너무 깊히 다쳐 나을 수 없는 상처같이
Like a wound that is too deeply injured to be cured
너라는 사람 도무지 지워지질 않지
You simply cannot be erased
헤어져도 같이 살아가는 것같지
Even as we are apart, it is as if we are living together
눈물로 너를 다 흘려서 지워 버릴수만 있다면야
If I could drain you out and erase you with tears
끝없이 울어 내 눈물 강을 이뤄 흐를 정도로
I will cry endlessly to have a flowing river of my tears
많이 울어서라도 너를 잊고 제대로 살고 싶어
I will cry that much to forget to you, and live my life

Translation notes:  The juvenile lyrics is not the result of poor translation; this is one of the dumbest lyrics that the Korean ever had to translate.

In 15 words or less:  Pioneer of K-pop manhood

Maybe he should be ranked higher because...  Is there anyone in K-pop who has gone farther internationally than Rain?

Maybe he should be ranked lower because...  Is he anything more than a pretty face? Did he achieve anything musically?

Why is this artist important?

Why is Rain important? Part of the answer is quite obvious. Before PSY burst onto the scene, Rain was the forerunner of the international expansion of K-pop. When he was not earning a spot in Time magazine's most 100 influential people in the world, Rain filmed a movie that may as well be a feature-length tribute to his ripped abs (i.e. Ninja Assassin.) His repeated appearance on the Colbert Report also made him a cult favorite, penetrating American culture like no other K-pop artist before him did.

But all of the foregoing pales compared to Rain's most significant achievement: he was the blueprint of K-pop manhood. Before Rain, K-pop's international outreach was mostly consisted of female artists, whose appeal did not require them to overcome any pre-existing stereotypes. (If anything, the prevailing stereotypes played in their favor.) In contrast, it took male K-pop artists a longer time to concoct the perfect blend of K-pop and masculinity.

In the end, Rain was the winning formula, the ideal mixture of boyish face, winsome smile, chiseled body, sensitive singing and sensual dancing. In this sense, even after Gangnam Style, Rain remains much more influential than PSY. Since Rain, every internationally-oriented male K-pop star aspired to be some version of Rain; PSY cannot say the same. Considering that those K-pop stars, collectively, are in the process of adjusting the international standard of what constitutes manliness, we may not have seen the full reverberation of Rain's global influence.

Interesting trivia:  Rain finished his military duty on July 10, 2013. During his service, he violated the military code of conduct by meeting with his girlfriend, the top actress Kim Tae-hee, during an official trip outside of the base. As a punishment, Rain was censured for seven days.

Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.

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Excreting the Dregs

Dear Korean, 

Recently, I realized I know more Asian women who are married to white guys than Asian women married to Asian men. Why is that? And why does it bother me so much? (Disclaimer: I do not live in Flushing, Palisades Park, Annandale, Koreatown NY or LA, etc, where Koreans are the majority.) I am already happily married, and I know that whom one decides to fall in love with is none of my business regardless of race, sex, etc. Nonetheless, I am bothered by this trend, not on a personal level but more on a macro level. Don't know why it bothers me but it does. 

Pete

Allow the Korean to open with a poem:

이불을 꿰매면서 (박노해)
Sewing the Blanket (by Bak No-hae)

이불홑청을 꿰매면서
As I sew the blanket cover
속옷 빨래를 하면서
As I launder the underwear
나는 부끄러움의 가슴을 친다
I beat my chest in shame

똑같이 공장에서 돌아와 자정이 넘도록
We both return from the factory; until past midnight
설거지에 방청소에 고추장단지 뚜껑까지
마무리하는 아내에게
To the wife who washed dishes, cleaned the room
and checked the lid of the gochujang pot
나는 그저 밥달라 물달라 옷달라 시켰었다
I simply ordered, give me food, water and clothes

동료들과 노조일을 하고부터
Ever since I began the labor union with colleagues
거만하고 전제적인 기업주의 짓거리가
The deeds of the arrogant, imperialistic capitalist have been,
대접받는 남편의 이름으로
In the name of the esteemed husband,
아내에게 자행되고 있음을 아프게 직시한다
Perpetrated to the wife; this, I painfully face.

명령하는 남자, 순종하는 여자라고
Men order, women obey
세상이 가르쳐 준 대로
So the world taught me
아내를 야금야금 갉아먹으면서
As I ate away the wife
나는 성실한 모범근로자였다
I was a diligent, model worker

노조를 만들면서
As I establish the union
저들의 칭찬과 모범표창이
Their praise and awards were
고양이 꼬리에 매단 방울소리임을,
Just the sounds of bells on the cat's tail
근로자를 가족처럼 사랑하는 보살핌이
Their talk of loving the workers like their family was
허울 좋은 솜사탕임을 똑똑히 깨달았다
Just a puffed-up cotton candy; this, I clearly realized.

편리한 이론과 절대적 권위와 상식으로 포장된
몸서리쳐지는 이윤추구처럼
Like the shuddering pursuit of profit,
wrapped in a convenient theory, absolute authority and common sense,
나 역시 아내를 착취하고
I, too, exploit the wife, and
가정의 독재자가 되었다
Became the tyrant of the home

투쟁이 깊어 갈수록 실천 속에서
As the struggle deepens, in my actions
나는 저들의 찌꺼기를 배설해 낸다
I excrete their dregs
노동자는 이윤 낳는 기계가 아닌 것처럼
That, as the laborers are not the machine that lays profit
아내는 나의 몸종이 아니고
The wife is not a servant of mine;
평등하게 사랑하는 친구이며 부부라는 것을
That she is a friend, a spouse, who loves equally
우리의 모든 관계는 신뢰와 존중과
민주주의에 바탕해야 한다는 것을
That all of our relationship must be
based on trust, respect and democracy
잔업 끝내고 돌아올 아내를 기다리며
Waiting for the wife, who will return after finishing overtime
이불홑청을 꿰매면서
Sewing the blanket cover
아픈 각성의 바늘을 찌른다
I prick the painful needle of realization

*                  *                  *

Pete's question is common among Asian American men. It is hardly a secret that there is a massive gender disparity in interracial marriages involving Asian Americans. 5.2% of Chinese American men are married white women; 14.5% of Chinese American women are married to white men. 7.9% of Filipino men are married to white women; 27% of Filipino women are married to white men. 18.8% of Japanese American men are married to white women; 38.1% of Japanese American women are married to white men. 5.2% of Korean American men are married to white women; 24.4% of Korean American women are married to white men.

To this reality, Pete's reaction is common among Asian American men: we are vaguely bothered, even as we recognize that it is none of our business who falls in love with whom. What is going on?

(More after the jump)

Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.




This trend bothers Asian American men because it is a real-life manifestation of the racism that they face in the United States. The stereotypes against Asian American men are commonly known--small, short, scrawny, nerdy, awkward. Those stereotypes uniformly point towards a single direction: emasculation. This emasculation is a specific breed of racism that Asian American men face. Racism, broadly, makes members of racial minority less of a person; emasculation, specifically, makes Asian American men less of a man.

What makes this worse is that Asian American women often internalize these emasculating stereotypes about Asian American men. This is not to give any validation to the crude charge that Asian American women fall over themselves for white guys. (In fact, Asian American women smartly recognize it when they are being blatantly objectified based on their race.) Rather, this is to say Asian American women--as does everyone the United States--subconsciously internalize the white-normative aesthetics of our society. It is not really that being white in America is particularly beautiful; it is that being white is the default, and all other races are measured by how far it deviates from the default. No one says "oxygen is my favorite air," because that would be silly. Oxygen is just normal; so is being white in America. Even as Asian American women would quickly get away from gross forms of yellow fever, they subconsciously gravitate toward whiteness simply because it feels normal.

Observing this trend as an Asian American man is frustrating, even though one may be happily married and have a strong conviction that whom people fall in love with is their own business. The frustration is difficult to articulate, because that's the defining characteristic of the phenomenon that we are seeing: the unspoken, invisible standard that devalues us. Subconscious motivation generates real results in real life. Yet when we try to capture it, it slips through the gap between intuition and language like water through our fingers. Only through critical examination that looks far below the surface can the invisible be made visible: that, even as Asian American women are making the adult decisions of selecting whom they date and marry, the process of such selection is not free from the subconscious racism that debases Asian American men.

Asian American men, however, should be ready to also critically examine the way in which we respond to this insidious racism against us. It is an eternal pattern of human history for the oppressed to turn around and create their own version of petty tyranny in the spheres within their control. Unable to precisely identify the invisible force that frustrates us, we lash out in a way that only exposes our own invisible force that we ourselves hold over others. Too often, the reaction by young, frustrated Asian American men degenerates into the pathetic cries of "They took our women!" or "Our own kind betrays us!" By doing so, we repay the debasement we experience by debasing others.

Hence, the Korean began this post with the poem by Bak No-hae. Bak is a famed labor activist and poet, who exposed the brutality of Korea's labor conditions of the 1980s in raw, powerful language. Although his poems were banned and he was sentenced to death for establishing a socialist organization, his first anthology The Dawn of Labor [노동의 새벽] reportedly reached the hands of more than a million readers. (Bak's sentence was reduced to life in prison, and was pardoned in 1998 after seven years of prison.)

In one of his most famous poems, Bak takes the needle of criticism toward himself, and reflects on how he became a petty tyrant over his wife even as he was organizing the union to fight for the laborer's wife. The line, "As the struggle deepens, in my actions / I excrete their dregs", hammers the point home. Rather than broadly fighting oppression in every form, our tendency is to perpetuate a smaller version of it, as if to compensate for our misery by inflicting more misery on those lower in the chain. Rather than cleaning up the oppression, we secrete our own and spread it to those around us.

What is an Asian American man to do? We must still be aware of racism, visible and invisible. We must be able to precisely identify and combat it, and prevent our reaction from constructing a smaller ecosystem in which we likewise lord over others. All the while being ready to recognize the superstructural understanding that holds our society together--that there is such a thing as an adult decision made pursuant to free will.

Doing all of this at the same time is not easy. But the recognition that the world is a complex place, and the ability to allocate our thoughts toward multiple moving parts at the same time, are essential parts of attaining maturity. This is the world we live in, and this is the only way to make sense of it.

Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.

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Korea's Problem is Modernity

I recently finished reading Daniel Tudor's Korea: the Impossible Country. (My review of the book is available at Reading Korea.) My reaction was mostly positive:  it was an excellent overview of contemporary Korea, providing a clear-eyed look at achievements and flaws of today's Korean society. As I wrote in my review, the book is highly recommended.

This, however, does not mean that I agree with the book entirely. I felt that in his book, Tudor relied a bit too often on Confucianism as a crutch, to provide explanations about Korean society that are too just-so. Tudor correctly identifies the full slate of the issues that contemporary Korea has, including high suicide rate, low satisfaction with life, low birthrate, excessive emphasis on education, grueling jobs with very long hours, etc. Tudor also correctly identifies that ultimately, competition--which drove Korea achieving prosperity and freedom at a rate unprecedented in human history--is what causes these social ills in Korea. 

Gangnam is not just for Gangnam Style--it is also the Mecca of plastic surgery in Korea.
It is not a coincidence that glassy skyscrapers, symbols of Korea's prosperity,
house so many plastic surgery clinics.
(source)

Where Tudor and I part company is the reason for such competition. Often, Tudor points to Confucianism as the motivating factor for the excessive competition in today's Korean society. For example, Tudor begins the chapter about competition in Korea with following: "Because Confucianism places a special value on success through education and stable family, Koreans focus on the minimal standard of living at which they will be comparable to others."* Although Tudor then goes into the exposition of how Korea's desperate poverty shaped Korea's national culture (a point with which I am inclined to agree,) starting the chapter with a reference to Confucianism colors the subsequent discussion the chapter.

(*Because I am working off of a translated version of the book, this quote may not be exactly the same as Tudor wrote it. You can blame Mr. Tudor, who sent me a translated version rather than the English original.)

If Tudor's point is that Confucianism contributes to the problems that today's Korean society has, I wonder how Tudor may respond to the following historical tidbit. Pre-modern Korea--through Goryeo and Joseon Dynasties--enjoyed extremely long periods of peace and stability. For nearly a thousand years prior to early 20th century, Korea experienced only one major war that meaningfully threatened its survival. At all other times, Korea had a strong, unitary central government that was able to implement its vision for improving Korean society. Needless to say, such vision was informed by Confucianism.

And by Joseon Dynasty, such effort was wildly successful. One can argue that Korea has reached the pinnacle of an agricultural society by that point. Organized by village units with centuries of farming experience, Koreans have perfected the delicate balance of producing the most amount of harvest without overtaxing the soil. Koreans also diversified their crop, allowing the soil to heal and providing more variety to their table. (Recall that traditional Korean cuisine features more than 1,000 types of edible plants.) The village unit also made effective use of the labor, setting precise schedules of who works when, for what task.**

(**From 김건태, "19세기 집약적 농법의 확산과 작물의 다각화", 역사비평 2012년 겨울호 [Kim Geon-tae, Intensive Agronomy, Diversification of Crops in the 19th Century])

The result was a society that produced everything it needed without too much effort. Thanks to efficient farming, Koreans always had plenty to eat. Indeed, the amount of food that Koreans traditionally consumed nearly defies belief. A diary from the 17th century describes that Koreans ate 7 hob [홉] of rice per meal, or approximately 420 grams. This is around triple of the amount of rice Koreans eat per meal today. Yet Koreans never had to work very hard to eat. Studies show that Koreans did not work all that much except in periods such as planting and harvesting rice, because labor was distributed efficiently. Contrary to the stereotype of hard-working Asians, foreign travelers' account of Korea invariably describe Koreans as "lazy." In truth, Koreans were not lazy. They simply produced everything they needed without spending all that much time.

(More after the jump.)

Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.





It is important not to idealize the past, as traditional Korea was hardly the perfect society. It was a monarchy with a class system. It was also a male-dominated society. Further, Korea did not always enjoy abundance of life's necessities--after all, Korea definitely experienced bad harvests and lean times during Joseon Dynasty's six-century-long history.

But it is hard to deny that traditional Korea has certain charms that modern Korea lacks. There was no constant competition or striving that stressed people out--simply people efficiently doing what they had to do to produce more than what they needed, and enjoying their lives in the free time. And these traditional Koreans kept much more closely to Confucianism than today's Koreans do. If Confucianism contributes to the excessive competition that today's Koreans experience, why didn't it cause Koreans of the Joseon Dynasty to compete more, work long hours, etc.? And if Confucianism did not cause that, what did?

Korea's problems do not arise Confucianism; they arise from modernity. Modernity--whose essential ingredients are industrialization and market economy--demands incessant competition. In the traditional economy, the one and only goal is sustenance. Traditional Koreans did not have large, interconnected markets to which they would sell any excess food, nor would there be anyone to buy such excess. Once they produced enough to eat, there is little incentive to produce any further.

A Korean table at a jumak [restaurant and pub], circa 1890.
Note the size of the bowls for rice and soup.
(source)

There is something very attractive about this model. After all, with all the technology we have, why do we work so much? By all indications, there is absolutely no reason for anyone in the advanced economy to work more than 15 hours a week to produce everything we need in life. The experience of traditional Korea shows that even a pre-industrial society can achieve this goal, as long as the society defines down the level of "need." So why do we bother with modernity's stress-inducing demands?

Korea's history provides the answer: if your country does not move toward modernity, modernity will come to your country in the most horrific form possible. To the people who reject modernity, modernity will be imposed. In the late 19th century, modernity first knocked Korea's doors in the form of French and American warships demanding Korea to open its ports. Modernity then busted down the doors with Imperial Japan, which soon enslaved the entire country in the following decades.

The essence of modernity is to turn humans into resources. Market economy and industrialization, operating together, dehumanize, commodify and objectify humans. And no one bears the brunt of such dehumanization quite like the conquered subjects of an empire, who are deemed less of a human in the eyes of the conqueror. Thus, Imperial Japan freely utilized Korea's "human resource"--hideous words, if you think about it--in the most inhumane manner. The empire conscripted millions of Koreans to die in forced labor, hundreds of thousands of Korean women (who were doubly commodified as conquered subjects and receptacles for men's sex) to serve as sex slaves to its soldiers, and thousands to serve as laboratory rats in live human experimentation.

This searing experience left Koreans with an unforgettable lesson: modernize, or literally, die. It is no surprise, therefore, that Koreans singularly focused on modernizing at quickly as possible. This focus was particularly evident in the personal philosophy of Park Chung-hee, under whose dictatorship Korea took the first steps toward joining the first world. (Indeed, "homeland's modernization" [조국의 근대화] is one of Park's favorite phrases in his numerous speeches.) But because Korea was so far behind in the race toward modernity, it was not enough for Korea to simply participate in the race. To catch the countries that were ahead in the race of modernity, Korea had to find a way to break the game.

(source)

In the bestseller Moneyball, Michael Lewis describes how Oakland A's, a team that is perennially strapped for cash and resources, manage to compete and beat the far-better-endowed teams by distilling the game of baseball into its very essence--that is, not getting your batters out. To that end, Oakland A's stripped its team of baseball's traditional and aesthetics preference, and focused only on not getting its batters out. Other  MLB teams would idolize the batters who were physical specimen capable of hitting the baseball. Oakland A's would focus on batters who may not look athletic and appear to be pedestrian in traditional metrics, but were capable of drawing walks--not as aesthetically pleasing as a base hit, but same result at the end.

One can argue that Korea also made up for its disadvantage by distilling modernity into its very essence: commodification. In its furious race toward modernity, Korea arguably managed to commodify its people better than any other country in the world. It helped that Koreans had already experienced modernity's terrible commodification at the hands of Imperial Japan, and were broken by Korean War into poverty and desperation. To be sure, Korea's commodification did not necessarily mean endless hours of sweatshop labor, although sweatshops were a crucial component in the early stages of Korea's economic development. Korea invested massively in public education and raised a huge corps of highly able people. Through the combination of nationalistic exhortation and authoritarian rule, Korea squeezed maximum amount of quality labor out of them. The result is as we see today: Korea at the forefront of modernity, the fastest country to have done so in human history.

But such ruthless commodification of humans left numerous scars in Korean society, because unlike that of baseball, the essence of modernity is toxic. It is only a slight exaggeration to say that every social problem in Korea is ultimately reducible to commodification. Korean people kill themselves at a record rate because, in a society that replaced the traditional family-based relationship with modern employer-employee relationship, the unemployable no longer has any further reason to exist. Koreans double down on education precisely to avoid this fate and make themselves employable. Korean women undergo plastic surgery at a record rate because they are commodified based on their looks in both the job market and the marriage market. Koreans are both too busy to invest in themselves, and too concerned that their children will have to run in the same, tiresome hamster wheel; so they forgo having children, or have no more than one. Above all, in this inhuman modern society, Koreans are stressed out and unhappy.

Focusing on the true cause of Korea's social ills illuminates the true lessons to be learned from Korea's experience. The first lesson is that focusing on Korea's unique history and cultural tradition does not help finding the solution for Korea's issues. If Korea's tradition is the cause for Korea's social ills, one would observe the same ills afflicting Korea throughout its history. This is simply not the case. In fact, much of Korea's tradition would counsel against the afflictions of modernity. Confucian education, for example, is about building a certain moral character, rather than learning specific skills to become an employable cog in the modern economy. The educational fervor in Korea has gone past the level of diligence, and is now in the territory of constant exhaustion. Having Korea's education focus again on character-building, rather than picking up an ever-increasing number of skills, would moderate this desperation that ruining Korea's children today.

The second lesson is the extension of the first. Korea's problem is not Korean culture; Korea's problem is modernity itself. Thus, Korea's problem is not limited to Korea, but is universal, and afflicts every contemporary industrialized, capitalistic society. Broad survey of modernized countries reveals that echoes of Korea's problems exist all over the world, albeit in different degrees. Korea is frequently cited for having high suicide rates, but sociological studies make it abundantly clear that every single industrialized country in the history of the world experienced a huge spike in suicide rate in the process of industrializing, and later the country industrialized, the higher the spike. Korea's high rate of plastic surgery receives international focus, but Brazil, another up-and-coming industrialized nation, is also making headlines for huge numbers of plastic surgery. Although Korea's fervor for education is often considered as excessive, in the United States, the doubling down on education set off a nuclear arms race of diploma inflation of the kind seen in Korea.

(Aside:  The trend of globalization, which is just another name for worldwide modernization, takes this worldwide commodification of humans to a new low. FoxConn laborers in China kill themselves in droves, while hundreds of workers in Pakistian die in a fire that supposedly passed the fire inspection, all in the process of manufacturing goods for wealthy, first world consumers. But even the first world consumers are no longer safe: as the international competition improves, the ruthless efficiency-seeking machine siphons the wealth that previously sustained the first world's middle class to the new capitalists of the rest of the world. In the modernized world, mediocrity has nowhere to hide.)

That Korea's problems are universal to modern nations leads to a disconcerting realization: solving these problems would require a complete redirection of human civilization from the path that it has taken for the last 250 years. It is not clear if this is even possible; it is equally unclear if this is desirable. For all of its problems, modernity also has enormous benefits in the form of unprecedented wealth (albeit distributed unevenly), advanced medical science and greater knowledge about the world around us. Even in the limited context of Korea, this inquiry retains the same character: for all of their complaints about today's Korea, would Koreans really want to go back to the way things were, three centuries ago? Are Korea's problems--stress, low birthrate, suicide--just something that Korea must learn to deal with, in exchange for the dividends of modernity? Can any one society refuse the tide of modernity today without getting swallowed up by other societies, which would continue to march toward superior economy and military?

These are important questions. They are also exceedingly difficult, and their scope is far greater than a single national culture or tradition. As such, in discussing Korea's problems, it is a mistake to focus solely on Korea's tradition or Korea's culture. Korea's problem is modernity, and Korea's problem is the world's problem. Fixing it requires not some tinkering of Korean culture, but a redirection of the human civilization.

Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.

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Happy Chuseok!

The Korean wishes everyone happy chuseok. Hopefully, nobody is being stuck in a traffic like this one:

Chuseok traffic, circa 1993
(source)

Enjoy your time with friends and family, and enjoy the full moon.

Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.

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Get Down, Get Down to the Floor

Dear Korean,

Why do Koreans sometimes sleep on the floor? I mean they just put a mattress on the floor and that's it. But sometimes, they sleep in a regular bed. Why is that?

Gabriela

What's "regular" to you may not be "regular" everywhere in the world.

Until recently--that is, until approximately 30 years ago--the "regular" way to sleep in Korea was to sleep on the floor. Koreans would usually have a very large wardrobe, in which they kept their bedding. The bedding would be comprised of a thick blanket/mattress (about as thick as a thin futon,) which was placed on the floor. One would sleep on that blanket (called 요 [yo],) with a lighter blanket on top for warmth. Every morning, Koreans would wake up, fold the two blankets and put them into the wardrobe; every night, they would take them out again and make the bed.

Modernity and convenience eventually phased out this habit. The Korean is actually old enough to remember the time when few Koreans slept on a bed. He himself never slept on a bed until he was in the third grade, i.e. 1991, when the Korean Mother decided to sign onto the ongoing fad--and the Korean Family was somewhat ahead of the curve. (It took him nearly two weeks before he did not fall out of the bed every night.) Hotels used to give the guests an option to choose between a "bed" room, or a "floor" room. Yet like everything in Korea, lifestyle habits change very fast. It appears that sleeping on a bed became the mainstream in Korea by mid- to late 1990s. Today, most Koreans sleep on a bed, although sleeping on the floor is not difficult to find in Korea today.

Interestingly, some Koreans found a way to compromise the prevailing trend and the bodily habits. Especially among older Koreans, a "rock bed" has proven popular--literally, a bed that has a sheet of rock instead of a mattress, like this:

(source)

The rock bed often has a heat blanket function for additional comfort. For older Koreans who are accustomed to sleeping on the floor, the rock surface with a blanket on top ends up being just right.

Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.

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Introducing Reading Korea

Dear readers,

Here is an exciting bit of announcement: the Korean is beginning a new blog, called Reading Korea.

In the seven years that the Korean has run Ask a Korean!, a constant issue has been that readers ask a question that asks for too much, such as: "What should I know about Korean culture?" The Korean's standard answer has been: "I can't write a book for you." While that answer is true, it is not a particularly satisfying answer for either the questioner or the Korean. Fortunately, there are increasingly more books in English about Korea, and more books in English that deal with a particular aspect about Korea in depth. In addition, if one can read Korean, there is a full universe of books regarding every aspect of Korea imaginable. And the Korean reads a lot of books about Korea.

This inspired the Korean to start Reading Korea. Essentially, it is a book review blog about books about Korea. Each review will be kept short, and will also be posted on Amazon.com review if the book is available through Amazon.com. By introducing those books in a single space, the Korean hopes to build toward the ultimate reading list of books about Korea for those who want to learn more about the country in depth. The Korean expects to be a slow process, but that's ok--this blog's modest success came not because there was a great deal of publicity, but because the Korean simply kept writing day by day until more and more people came. Down the line, the Korean is certain that Reading Korea will find its own share of readership.

Reading Korea's first review is already up: Kim Chang-nam's K-POP: Roots and Blossoming of Korean Popular Music. There will be several more book reviews coming down the pipeline in the next few days. Please feel free to visit and poke around Reading Korea, and give any suggestion you may think of.

As always, thank you very much for all your support.

Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.

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Ask a Korean! Wiki: Language Courses for Children?

Dear Korean,

I would love to go to Korea with my kids and spend about a month in the summer with them occasionally seeing relatives, but mostly I would like them to learn about the culture and language. They are half Korean and sadly speak no Korean but I'm hoping I could change that. Their ages range from 7-12 so a hefty program at Yonsei (which I did as a high schooler many years ago) would not be appropriate, but I'm sure there must be something they can do in Korea to learn the language in a more formal way. Do you have any suggestions?

Tina

The Korean is certain that this type of courses would be in demand, but unfortunately he is not aware of one. (Remember, the Korean never had to learn any Korean.) Readers, got any suggestion? Please share in the comment section.

Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.

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Women Judges and Prosecutors?

Dear Korean,

How many women judges are there in Korea? And how many female prosecutors are there? Have there been more females since the new president?

Cindy H.

According to Korea Women's Development Institute, 24.4% of the judges and 20.5% of the prosecutors are women as of 2010. There has been a constant increase of women judges and prosecutors in Korea that long pre-dates the new (woman) president. In 2008, for example, more than 70% of the newly appointed judges were women.

Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.

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Do North Koreans Look Different from South Koreans?

Dear Korean,

Do North Koreans look different from South Koreans?

Ms. Trophy Wife

Short answer: not really.

One thing to remember about North and South Koreas is that they were the same country for a couple of millennia before having split into two countries for the last 60-odd years. So whatever differences that North and South Korea have in terms of language, customs, etc., tend to be minor. For example, the difference in the languages used in both North Korea and South Korea do not amount to more than differences in accent and certain diction, somewhat like the American and Australian English.

Likewise, there is no fundamental difference between the way in which North and South Koreans look. Having said that, however, 60-plus years is not a short amount of time, and the two Koreas did live through two very different worlds. South Koreans now live in one of the world's wealthiest countries, North Koreans one of the poorest. In particular, the crushing famine that North Korea suffered in the mid-1990s has left a visible impact on North Korean people's physique. While the average height of adult South Korean men is 171.5 cm (~5' 7.5"), the average height of adult North Korean men is 165.4 cm (~5' 5"). Because North Korean youths have become so malnourished, North Korea had to lower the minimum height requirement for its soldiers from 140 cm (~4' 7") to 137 cm (~4' 6") in 2010. (In contrast, South Korea recently had to extend the maximum height requirement from 196 cm (~6' 5") to 204 cm (~6' 8") for its conscripts.)

Aside from the difference in physique, the difference in the looks between North and South Koreans is essentially the difference in the wealth available to decorate oneself with fashionable clothing, cosmetics, hair care and (sometimes) plastic surgery. When given the chance to catch up to those additional "boosts," North Koreans--such as these defector ladies from a popular South Korean TV show about North Korean life--look like they will fit right in the streets of Seoul.

Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.

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Here are Some Korean Slang Terms

Dear Korean,

Does the Korean have a list of colorful Korean language slang?

Cactus McHarris

This is actually a pretty tough task, because the number of slang terms is huge and the types of slang are ever-changing. For a comprehensive overview, the Korean would recommend As Much As a Rat's Tail: Korean Slang, a solid look of old and new slang expressions in Korean. In addition, KoreaBANG's glossary is a decent collection of the latest Internet-slang in Korea.

But the Korean will not simply abdicate this post to book and website recommendations. Although he could not possibly tally all the slang used in Korean language, he can try listing at least a few of them in this space. To that end, allow the Korean to re-introduce his all-Korean language Twitter account:  https://twitter.com/askakorean. The Korean decided long ago that his Facebook account will be for English language content, while his Twitter account will be for communicating with Korean folks--an arrangement that has worked out fairly well so far. And much like the Internet everywhere else, Korea's Twitterverse is full of hilarious slang and memes.

So here are some Korean slang terms ans expressions that went through the Korean's Timeline in the last several days. Keep in mind that this list is far, far from comprehensive, and may become outdated rather quickly. It only contains random samples of some of the slang that the Korean could see in the last several days before he wrote this post. But for curious people, it could be an interesting sampler of Korean slang terms.

The list of slang terms, after the jump.

Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.


갑이다 (v.) - to be the best. 갑 is the first letter in the old Sino-Korean counting system.

고고씽 (v.) - to move expeditiously; "go-go-ssing," with "ssing" being an onomatopoeia for moving quickly.

관광당하다 (v.) - to be pwned. Distortion of "강간당하다" (Literally, "to be raped".)
  역관광 (n.) - reverse pwnage. 

개고생 (n.) - very arduous endeavor, often unnecessary; literally, "dog endeavor".

개소리 (n.) - an utterly wrong statement; literally, "dog noise".

겁나 (adv.) - very. Contraction of "겁나게". (Literally, "scarily").

게거품 물다 (v.) - to be extremely upset; literally, "to foam at the mouth like a crab" 

괜춘하다 (v.) - to be ok; to be decent. Distorted form of "괜찮다".

까다 (v.) - to criticize; literally, "to kick".

꼰대 (n.) - a pedant; an annoying person who gives condescending lectures.
   Related:  꼰대질 (n.) - being a pedant.

꿀잼 (v.) - to be extremely fun. Contraction of 꿀맛같은 재미 (literally, "fun that tastes like honey").

남주 (n.) - male main character (in a novel, drama, movie, etc.). Contraction of 남자 주인공.
   Antonym:  여주 (n.) - female main character. Contraction of 여자 주인공.

넘 (adv.) - very. Contraction of "너무".

네임드 (adj.) - well-known. Korean pronunciation of "named", originates from MMORPG games that have "named weapons," i.e. unique and particularly strong weapons.

드립 (n.) - a joke. Contraction of "애드립 [ad lib]".
   Related:  드립력 (n.) - the ability to make jokes.
   Related:  드립치다 (v.) - make a joke.
   Related:  개드립 (n.) - a bad joke; literally, a "dog" joke.

땡기다 (v.) - to want. Distortion of "당기다" (literally, "to pull").

레전설 (n.) - a legendary story. Combination of "레전드 [legend]" and 전설.

멘붕 (n.) - (mental) devastation. Contraction of "멘탈 [mental] 붕괴".

뭥미 (int.) - "What?" Distortion of "뭐임?" ["What's this?"]

발리다 (v.) - to be pwned. Literally, "to be smeared (like butter)" or "to be flayed".

부심 (n.) - pride that is often excessive and unnecessary. Contraction of "자부심".
   Related:  슴부심 (n.) - pride held by women with big boobs. Contraction of "가슴 부심".

뻘짓 (n.) - dumb action.
   Related:  뻘트윗 (n.) - a dumb Tweet.

삽질 (n.) - dumb, useless action. Literally, "shoveling".

생축 (n.) - "Happy birthday". Contraction of "생일 축하".

솔까말 (adv.) - "to be completely honest." Contraction of "솔직히 까놓고 말해서".

시전하다 (v.) - to act or demonstrate, usually with mock ceremony

썰 (n.) - a story.
   Related:  썰 풀다 (n.-v.) - to tell a story. Literally, "to unravel a story."

안습 (adj.) - sad, pathetic. Contraction of "안구에 습기" (literally, "humidity in the eyeball", i.e. tearing up.)

야설 (n.) - a pornographic novel. Contraction of "야한 소설" (literally, "obscene novel').

어그로 (n.) - deliberate provocation, usually to spark an argument. Contraction of "aggressive" or "aggression".
   Related:  광역 어그로 (adj.-n.) provocation that aims at a great number of people, either by picking on a sensitive topic or by insulting a large group of people.

오덕후 (n.) - a nerd, with an unusual and specific area of interest (e.g. Japanese animation); Koreanization of "otaku"
   Synonyms:  덕후 (n.); 오덕 (n.); 덕 (n.). Contraction of "오덕후"
   Related:  십덕 (n.) or 씹덕 (n.) - a particularly nerdy nerd. Play on the word "오덕," which can be read as "five 덕" (while 십덕 can be read as "ten 덕").
   Related:  덕력 (n.) - breadth of knowledge in the area of geekery; literally, "nerd power".
   Related:  양덕 (n.) - Western nerd.
   Related:  밀덕 (n.) - nerd focusing on military weaponry. Contraction of "밀리터리 [military] 덕후". 

야매 (n.) - bootleg; fake or black market product.

염장 (n.) - kicking when someone's down; salting the wound. Literally, "salting".

이뭐병 (int.) - "What the hell?". Contraction of "이게 뭐야 병신아" ["What is this, you moron?"]

이빨까다 (v.) - to banter, usually in smart aleck; literally, "to uncover teeth".
   Related:  이빨 (n.) - smart aleck-y banter; literally, "teeth".

잉여 (n.) - a jobless, useless person; literally, "leftover".
   Related:  트잉여 (n.) - a useless person who spends too much time on Twitter. Combination of 트위터 ["Twitter"] and 잉여.

작업 (n.) - flirting. Literally, "work" or "operation".

좆 (n.) - penis.
   Related:  좆같다 (v.) - to be bad (as in quality).
   Related:  좆만하다 (v.) - to be little; literally, "as little as a dick."
   Related:  좆밥 (n.) - an insignificant thing; literally, "dick feed."
   Related:  좆나 (adv.) - very. Also distorted into 존나 or 조낸.
   Related:  좆까 (v.) - to fuck off; literally, "peel a dick." Also distorted into 조까.

재미지다 (v.) - to be fun.  Distortion of "재미있다".

짤방 (n.) - a picture. Contraction of "짤림 방지" (literally, "cut prevention"). Originated from a popular web community called DC Inside, which began as a digital photo sharing site. Because DC Inside would delete a post without a picture (as it was contrary to the purpose of the site,) people who frequent DC Inside to write about topics other than photography began adding just any photo.
   Synonym:  짤 (n.) - contraction of 짤방.
   Related:  혐짤 (n.) - disgusting or gross picture. Contraction of "혐오스러운 짤방" [disgusting 짤방]
   Related:  움짤 (n.) - moving gif. Contraction of "움직이는 짤방" [moving 짤방]
   Related:  먹짤 (n.) - picture of food. Contraction of "먹을 것 짤방" [food 짤방]

쩔다 (v.) - to be awesome, either in quality or scale.

천조국 (n.) - America. Literally, either "heavenly kingdom," a term that old Korea referred to China, to which it was a vassal state, or "the one trillion country," referring to the fact that U.S. annual budget is more than KRW 1 trillion.

최애캐 (n.) - favorite character; favorite person. Contraction of "최고 애정이 가는 캐릭터 [character]", originally used in the context of video games involving a lot of characters.

츤데레 (n.) - a shy and cold person who secretly has a heart of gold. Korean pronunciation of "tsundere."

칼침 (n.) - stabbing; "knife acupuncture".
   Synonym:  칼빵 (n.) - stabbing

케바케 (adj.) - case-by-case. Contraction of "케이스 바이 케이스".

퉁치다 (v.) - to call it even.

후죠시 (n.) - woman who likes gay men; Korean pronunciation of "fujoshi"
   Synonym:  후죠 (n.) - Contraction of "후죠시".
   Related:  후죠물 (n.) - movies, dramas or comics featuring gay men, aimed toward 후죠시 women.

흑역사 (n.) - embarrassing personal stories of the past; "dark history".

Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.

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The Good History Deniers

Dear Korean,

A question on Quora reads: How do the Japanese think about World War II? I was wondering if this answer to the question is something that you would agree with. How would you respond?

Joel B.

Before reading this post, the Korean will highly recommending reading the answer provided by Ms. Makiko Itoh, which is linked above. August 15 is the V-J Day, when World War II ended in 1945 with Imperial Japan's unconditional surrender. On this important date, the Korean found it appropriate to address this question.

But first, a quick detour. Ta-nehisi Coates, likely the best contemporary American writer when it comes to discussing race relations, recently wrote a terrific New York Times op-ed entitled The Good, Racist People. The message that Coates delivered through the op-ed is simple and devastating: even good people with sincerely good intentions contribute to, and perpetuate, racism in America. When it comes to dealing with large-scale, historical evil, it is not enough for one simply live with good intentions--because road to hell is paved with such good intentions.

The same is true with the way the Japanese approach World War II. I have said this before, and I will say it again: Japan, as a whole, think that it did nothing wrong during World War II. The steady stream of outrageous statements made by prominent Japanese politicians and intellectuals can only continue in an environment in which such worldview is tolerated. (Just two of the latest hits: (1) Japan's Deputy Prime Minister said Japan should amend its Peace Constitution like the way Nazis amended the Weimar Constitution; (2) Japanese navy built the largest ship since WWII and named it "Izumo", one of the ships that were used to invade China.)

When news of such outrageous statements hit the wire, a common response is to attribute it simply to a small faction of right-wing, nationalist Japanese people, implying that the vast majority of the Japanese ought to be spared from the responsibility of such historical amnesia. This is incorrect on several levels. First, the Japanese right-wing is anything but small. The Japanese nationalists are currently dominating the political scene, winning the last two parliamentary elections in a landslide. Their leader, Prime Minister Shinzo Abe, proclaimed that he would withdraw Japan's apology to former Comfort Women and denied that Imperial Japan forcibly recruited the Comfort Women to serve as sex slaves. Right-wing thugs roam the streets freely in broad daylight, waving the "Rising Sun" flag, blaring propaganda from their infamous "black vans" and engage in harassment campaigns against Koreans living in Japan.

Nationalist black van, commonly seen
in the streets of Japan
(source)

For those who will predictably chime in about how Abe's election was more about the sagging Japanese economy: so was Hitler's election. In a normal country, a candidate's penchant for denying war atrocities would be met with swift termination of the candidate's political career, regardless of his views on economic policies. That did not happen with Abe, which speaks volumes. The mindset of the good, moral Japanese people that elected a man like Shinzo Abe is equally responsible for Japan's collective denial of history.

(More after the jump.)

Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.




A recent interview by Hayao Miyazaki reveals the epitome of such mindset. Miyazaki, of course, is a legendary anime filmmaker, creating such masterpieces as Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind, Castle in the Sky, Princess Mononoke, and Spirited Away. More importantly for the purpose of this post, Miyazaki is hardly an apologist for Imperial Japan. A staunch leftist, Miyazaki pointedly criticized Abe administration's attempt to re-write history: "Japan should have properly apologized to Korea and China, and settle the debt of the past." One can fairly say that, among mainstream Japanese people, Miyazaki is about as good as they come when it comes to recognizing Japan's responsibility for World War II.

Poster of Kaze Tachinu, showing
Jiro Horikoshi and his Zero Fighter
(source)

So it may be slightly surprising that Miyazaki's latest work, Kaze Tachinu ("The Wind Blows"), is a movie depicting the life of Jiro Horikoshi, the engineer who designed the infamous Zero Fighters, the mainstay of the Japanese Air Force during World War II that was used to bomb the Pearl Harbor, among other missions. In a revealing interview with Asahi Shimbun, Miyazaki explained the thought process behind making a movie about the face of the Japanese war machine during World War II. The relevant portions of the interview is worth quoting at length:

Q:   In the movie, there is a scene that shows Jiro Horikoshi standing before a destroyed airplane after the war ended.

A:   I think his heart was destroyed. He worked toward his dream of making a beautiful airplane, and his effort hit the peak as he was designing the 96 Fighter and the Zero Fighter. But during the war, he was directed to come up with a new model or improve the Zero, because of the lack of engineers during the war. It is like ordering Studio Gibli [Miyazaki's studio] to make five new movies each year without hiring anyone new. He did his best, but most failed. But he had his own pride that told him, "I did not lose." He wrote, "they say we are responsible for the war, but I don't think I am."

Q:   Yoshitoshi Sone, one of the engineers who assisted Jiro Horikoshi, reportedly said: "This is terrible. If this many people were going to die, we should not have built this. We should not have designed this," upon seeing that the Zero Fighters were used in kamikaze missions. Was Horikoshi thinking differently?

A:   Sone may have felt that way, but at the same time he must have felt: "That is not my area to be concerned about." Of course, Horikoshi carries the responsibility of the war as a Japanese citizen; but one engineer need not be responsible for the entire history. I think it is pointless to talk about responsibility.

I understand Sone's sentiment that he should not have built the plane. But I think it would have been a less rewarding life if he did not build the plane. I communicated this in the movie too, but the plane is a beautiful but cursed dream. One builds what one wants to build, gets cursed by it and gets injured by it. But Sone must have thought later that it couldn't be helped. It was better to live that era, giving his all. At the time, no one could arrogantly claim that this was good, and this was bad.

Q:   Your father owned a military supplies factory and manufactured Zero Fighter components; he reportedly became nihilistic as he experienced the earthquake and the air raids.
A:   Nihilism sounds cold, deviant and vulgar; that was not my father. He merely thought his family came first. Through his terrible experience of the apocalypse, he gave up on the big talks like "this value is important" or "this is how humans ought to be." He tried to protect his family, his friends and whom he could, but thought he could not be responsible for the entire country or the society. He always said: "Don't lose out."

Q:   Do you also feel that way, at this point?

A:   Maybe a radius of 30 meters, or 100 meters? That is the limit of the area that I can affect, and I have no choice but to accept that that is all I can do. Before, I thought I had to do something for the world or the mankind, but I changed a great deal now. ...

. . .

Q:   Although you say you can only be responsible for those around you, you are affecting a lot of people through your movies.

A:   Movies is my job, not some cultural project. They just happened to find commercial success. Without the viewers, they will all go away in an instant. The people who joined Gibli think it is a stable company, but that's laughable.

Interview with Hayao Miyazaki, the Zero Fighter Designer's Dream [Asahi Shimbun]

Reading this interview, a theme emerges: a small individual who can not do much to the overwhelming forces of the world. Because the individual, at best, can only do so much, the best course of the individual is to simply do what he wants to do with all his heart. All Horikoshi wanted to do was to build beautiful flying machines; all Miyazaki wants to do is to make movies that sell. It is better that they keep building the most beautiful flying machines, the best selling movies, without thinking too much about what those machines and movies may do. After all, they cannot control how their machines will be used, how their movies will be interpreted.

Such view may be somewhat defensible. It is certainly a big step up from the odious views of the Japanese right-wing, who denies all of Japan's responsibility for World War II wholesale. There is enough room in this worldview for one to feel sympathetic. The Japanese during World War II certainly were not the first ones who committed acts of horror by getting swept up into the roaring currents of history.

Nonetheless, it is deeply disappointing that this is the best that the well-meaning Japanese people can muster up, because in this worldview, there exists its own version of history denial and responsibility evasion. The good history deniers of Japan may acknowledge that terrible things happened during World War II. Yet those terrible things are nobody's fault. It was certainly not the fault of the ordinary Japanese people, who were simply living their lives. In this story, Japan may be the country that invaded Korea, Manchuria and China, bombed Pearl Harbor, brutalized Nanking and POWs in the Philippines, conscripted hundreds of thousands of women to serve as sex slaves and performed live human experimentation--but no Japanese person committed those horrible things. Those things just kind of happened.

Note the selective obliviousness in which Miyazaki engages to maintain his worldview. Miyazaki laments that he can do no more than affect a "100 meter radius" from himself. This is an absurd claim. Miyazaki is easily one of the most influential filmmakers of the 20th century. Contrary to his assertion, Miyazaki's movies are much more than money-making ventures that randomly found success; they are canonical works of art in the history of animated movies, which are revered by millions of people worldwide. Yet Miyazaki must abdicate from that lofty perch if he is to maintain that individuals cannot affect the world in which they live. Otherwise, Jiro Horikoshi--the man who designed the symbol of the Japanese war efforts--cannot remain an innocent boy who only wanted to make beautiful flying machines. He becomes a full participant of the war that Imperial Japan caused.

Such selective obliviousness is likewise evident in Ms. Itoh's answer on the Quora question. Ms. Itoh wrote:  "The general feeling was that the military government was doing whatever they wanted, without the knowledge or consent of the regular citizens of Japan." This claim is equally absurd as Miyazaki's claim of powerlessness. World War II was an unmissable event for Japan. It was the polar opposite of the American war in Iraq, in which regular American citizens rarely felt the impact of the war because it was fought by a small group of Americans with only a fraction of the national economy dedicated to the war. In contrast, the Japanese war effort during World War II required the mobilization of the entire country.

The Imperial Japanese Army boasted 10 million soldiers, vast majority of which was drafted. At least 500,000 Japanese were living in Japan's colonies (such as Korea and Manchuria.) A huge number of Japanese worked for large corporations that constructed the Japanese war machine, such as Mitsubishi Heavy Industries. The Japanese newspapers did not simply report the news of military victory; it was boasting the stories of two soldiers engaged in a contest to be the first to kill 100 people with a sword as they were marching toward Nanjing, to commit one of the worst brutalities of the 20th century.

Tokyo Mainichi Shimbun reporting the contest to cut down 100 men.
(source)

It is simply not true that the ordinary Japanese had no idea that their country was committing such horrors. On a certain level, every Japanese knew that they were invading sovereign countries and killing people. Yet the good Japanese like Ms. Itoh must insist that the regular Japanese people simply did not know, because admitting the truth--that the ordinary Japanese sincerely believed in their mission as they enslaved other countries and killed its people--would require them to face up to the responsibilities for such horrors.

This is a far cry from the way in which post-war Germans addressed their wartime legacies. With a slogan like "Collective guilt, no! Collective responsibility, yes!", Germans engaged in vigorous, decades-long debate and exploration of what that collective responsibility means, and how it applies to each individual German who lived through that era and the children of those individuals. A book like The Reader by Bernhard Schlink, which attempted to show the human aspect of the Nazi guards, would become subject to strong criticism within Germany, for insinuating that the Nazi followers were dumb, illiterate people who did not know better. Yet in Japan, this is the standard position among well-meaning people.

This difference in attitude results in meaningful difference in the way in which World War II is remembered in different theaters. The lasting image from World War II concerning Germany is the Holocaust, not the bombing of Dresden. By all rights, the lasting image from World War II concerning Japan ought to be the Rape of Nanking, Unit 731, Bataan Death March and Comfort Women. Instead, the lasting image from World War II concerning Japan is the mushroom cloud over Hiroshima. To be sure, the atomic bombing of Hiroshima was a horrific event. But never in Japan's memorial of Hiroshima do the Japanese acknowledge that Imperial Japan was the one responsible for invading other countries and killing more people than the Nazis. Because the good Japanese chose not to address their personal contribution to World War II, the suffering (which was indeed immense, but not greater than Germans' or any other people's) that the Japanese did undergo during World War II is not recognized as a consequence of Japan's wrongdoing. Instead, those sufferings just kind of happened for no reason, like a natural disaster. (Note that the Asahi Shimbun interviewer juxtaposes "earthquake" and "air raid" as formative experiences for Miyazaki's father.)

Of course, the flip side of this attitude means that even the war atrocities that Imperial Japan caused is also like a natural disaster that just kind of happened. Because the damage that Japan caused to others during WWII is the moral equivalent of the damage that Japan suffered during the War, the best lesson that these good Japanese can draw from the war experience is no more than the naive conclusions that war is bad, politicians lie, and the best thing to do is to just live their lives without aspiring to steer the course of their own country.

Such abdication from historical responsibility is what has guided Japan since the end of World War II. The good Japanese people removed themselves from the political process by engaging in their own, smaller distortions of history. Only the Japanese right, who still believe that the Imperial Japan did nothing wrong, remained as the active driver of Japan's political course.

Nearly as soon as Japan exited the American provisional rule, it elected as Nobusuke Kishi as the Prime Minister. Kishi, a key leader of the Japanese colony in Manchuria who was tried as a Class A war criminal. (Imagine seeing Hermann Goring as the chancellor of West Germany in 1957!) Kishi sincerely believed that the only sin committed by the Imperial Japan during World War II was to lose the war. In an infamous episode, when Kishi was imprisoned on the charges of war crime, his old teacher sent him a message: "If you consider your name that will carry for thousand years, commit suicide." Kishi replied defiantly: "Instead of my name, I will proclaim the legitimacy of the holy war [World War II] for ten thousand generations." A master politician, Kishi maneuvered to position his party--the Liberal Democratic Party--to hold the power in Japan for the entire post-war period except for two stretches of three years. Naturally, the LDP has maintained staunch historical revisionism as to Japan's role in World War II. In 2007, for example, 120 LDP members of the parliament sought to retract the Kono Statement, the Japanese government's official statement of apology to former Comfort Women. (The Kono Statement was made in 1993, when LDP briefly lost power.)

Today, yet another head of LDP serving as Japan's head of state after having won two landslide elections. Shinzo Abe, grandson of Nobusuke Kishi, is proceeding with full speed ahead to completely deny Imperial Japan's responsibility for World War II. He denied that the Japanese military kept sex slaves; proclaimed that he would revise the Kono Statement (before backing off after massive international pressure); gave a grinning thumbs-up sitting in a fighter jet numbered 731 (as in Unit 731) and; is leading the movement to amend Japan's pacifist constitution. And the good Japanese people, the well-meaning history deniers, are allowing all of this to happen, as they have for the last 50 years.

Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.

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"Good Writer, Bad Writer" on AAK!

The Korean frequently receives questions along the lines of: "I think your writing is great? How do I become a good writer?" For a few times, he has tried writing a post in response to such questions, and felt too embarrassed to continue. To be sure, the Korean does have a number of principles and guideposts in his mind when he writes. He does strive to be a better writer each time. But the truth is that his writing is still much lower quality than he would prefer. Because this blog is a hobby, he never does put in the amount of effort that he feels sufficient. Consequently, a reader with sharp eyes can usually find persistent errors and rooms for improvement in the Korean's writing. So it felt a bit silly to talk about how to write well, when he was not even living up to his own standards.

Luckily, Mr. Shawn Doyle, who is a writing teacher, has been generous enough to use my recent post, Culturalism, Gladwell and Airplane Crashes as an example of effective writing. At his blog, Good Writer, Bad Writer, Mr. Doyle has reproduced the post, and kindly provided a play-by-play on the rhetorical strategy that the Korean has employed as he wrote the post. If you happened to be one of the folks who thought the Korean's writing was worth emulating, the post at Good Writer, Bad Writer would be helpful.

One tip that the Korean would give about writing is: have an arsenal of several esteemed writers whose style you can emulate depending on the purpose of your writing. For the purpose of the Culturalism post, the Korean was consciously trying to write like Chief Justice John Roberts, who is considered one of the greatest writers that the Supreme Court has seen since Robert Jackson. I think Justice Roberts writes  like a freight train coming down a hill. At first, the train would be stationary, sitting on top of the hill with no freight on it. Justice Roberts would begin his writing by adding freight piece by piece onto that train. After a certain point, the train would start slowly rolling downward, unable to bear its own weight any longer. By the time the train reaches the bottom of the hill--i.e. the conclusion of his writing--it moves with such momentum and speed that makes the conclusion undeniable. 

The Korean knows this style is effective because he usually disagrees with the legal points that Justice Roberts makes. So it feels amazing (and a bit infuriating) when he finishes reading an opinion by Justice Roberts, and feels halfway convinced of the Justice's arguments before snapping out of it. Accordingly, the Korean attempts to deploy this style when he tries to write a strongly opinionated piece. Based on the reception the post had, it appears that the strategy worked this time.

Thank you very much, Mr. Doyle, and thank you everyone for reading.

Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.

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The Weather Channel Explains Fan Death

So there is this:

Hot room + fan directly on the body = heat exhaustion and/or heat stroke. Gee, that sounds awfully like how Fan Death works.

Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.

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Your Culture is Bigger than You

Dear Korean,

I was hoping that you might respond to this review I did of Gish Jen's book on Asian and Western subjectivity. The review is 90 percent summary and expresses a few reservations about the cross-cultural psychologists that Jen relies on to make her generalizations about culture.

I'd be curious to see whether you find this research to be credible. There's no questions that it conforms almost exactly to the "thin and monochromatic" views of the differences between East and West adopted by Westerners, including Malcolm Gladwell, with the (perhaps?) meaningful difference that most of the cross-cultural researchers are Asians from Asia, and that Gish Jen is herself an avowedly Asian American novelist fixated on the question of East and West. While many Asian Americans and other politicized types take strong exception to the generalizations about Asians contained in this body of research, most regular Asians and Asian Americans I ask about seem to more or less agree that the overall schema fits into the pattern of their own experience.

Wesley Yang

If you are wondering because the name of the questioner sounds familiar--yes, it's that Wesley Yang, who wrote the article titled Paper Tigers for the New York Magazine, which elicited a strongly critical response from me. Let me first say this: it takes a remarkable strength of character to have been blasted in a way that Mr. Yang did, and come back for seconds. I am flattered that he is asking for my take; I can only hope I don't disappoint.

Mr. Yang's question is how I feel about the cross-cultural research involving Asian culture. But I see a second, underlying question: in trying to understand Asian culture, how are we to treat our own experience as Asian Americans? The second question, in particular, is important and timely. I just got done blasting non-Asians for trying to essentialize Asia through "cultural explanations." Then what about Asian Americans? How are we to approach our own culture? What do we make of the fact that Gish Jen attempts to explain her father's life through these studies? What are we supposed to think if those studies seems to explain our lives as well?

First question first: how do I feel about research regarding culture? Contrary to what Mr. Yang may think, I am open to them. I will accept the conclusion of the research (with the residual amount of skepticism consistent with the scientific method) if the research is conducted rigorously. The reason for this is simple: clearly, culture affects behavior. As a blogger who writes about Korean culture, it would be strange if I did not recognize this. Accordingly, a rigorously conducted study may well reveal the nexus at which culture translates to behavior. (Of course, normal caveats apply--after all, many studies end up being quite wrong.)

This proposition is so self-evident that it is almost not worth saying out loud. The real question, whose answer is not as self-evident, is: how much do these studies explain? How much do those studies explain the national culture? How much do those studies explain the reality that unfolds before our eyes? And how much do those studies inform our own experience as Asian Americans?

These questions are part and parcel of a larger and more fundamental question: how are we supposed to understand and explain culture? Once we have a solid grasp on this fundamental issue, the rest falls into place.

(More after the jump.)

Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.




How are we supposed to explain culture? We must begin by making ourselves humble before the magnitude of the task in front of us. Culture is a very large thing. It is a product of interactions among millions of people. We cannot even conclusively explain why a single person takes a certain action. Yet we breezily explain why millions of people take a certain action on the basis of "culture." This makes no sense.

Explaining culture is like explaining the ocean to someone who has never seen it. It may be possible to explain the ocean in just a few phrases. It is a body of water. It is big, and covers 70 percent of the Earth. It is blue; it is fun to play in; a lot of fish live there. But these few sentences never do justice to the true character of the ocean. The ocean is so vast, and contains so many multitudes, that it can either disprove or severely qualify any proposition one may put forth about the ocean. The ocean may be cold. Yet it has numerous hot volcanoes. The seawater may be salty, but there are many parts at which the seawater is hardly so. The ocean is at times calm and beautiful. At other times, the ocean is turbulent and terrifying.

The ocean is so vast, that it is greater than any one creature's experience. The ocean experienced by a vacationer is not the same ocean experienced by a grizzled mariner. The ocean experienced by a dolphin is not the same ocean experienced by a salmon. In fact, one can spend one's whole life explaining just a single aspect of the ocean that one experienced--and the ocean in that explanation will sound nothing like the ocean experienced by another.

The same for culture. Give me any proposition about Korean culture, and I will find you multiple examples of counter-propositions involving different circumstances and different people. Take, for example, the accepted wisdom that Confucianism makes Koreans deferential to the older people. Confucianism makes Koreans so hierarchical, the accepted wisdom goes, that even the difference of a year in age requires deference from the younger person. The younger person would use a special manner of speech (honorifics) for the older person, and subsume their opinions and preferences to the older person.

But the Book of Manners [예기, 禮記]--one of the most significant Confucian tomes--explicitly provides that someone should be older than you by at least ten years before you accord him as an elder. (And even in such a case, you accord him as an older brother; one should be at least twenty years older than you before you treat him like a father.) Classical Korean literature frequently cites this passage, and traditionally, Koreans have strictly adhered to this rule. For example, one of the most classic Korean literature regarding friendship is the story of Oseong and Haneum [오성과 한음], based on the childhood antics of Yi Hang-bok [이항복] and Yi Deok-hyeong [이덕형]. Notably, Yi Hang-bok was five years older than Yi Deok-hyeong. Yet in the stories about their friendship, there is hardly any indication that they saw each other as anything other than equals.

To be sure, the accepted wisdom may still be true. After all, it is not a product of some fevered imagination--the accepted wisdom came from some corner of reality. But with additional information, we can properly contextualize the accepted wisdom. Does my counterexample about the Book of Manners and Oseong and Haneum disprove that Confucianism emphasizes age-based hierarchy? No. But it does give an idea about how much Confucianism emphasizes age-based hierarchy. Knowing more about Confucianism and traditional Korean culture make the understanding of Korean culture much more sophisticated, nuanced and dynamic. And talking about Korean culture--or any national culture, for that matter--while only being equipped with surface-level knowledge, without being aware of its counter-currents, will always result in propositions that are untrue, incomplete or significantly misleading because they erase meaningful nuances. Worse, it will subject other people who are perceived to be within that culture to those untrue, incomplete or significantly misleading propositions.

To reiterate: culture is larger than any one data point, any one proposition, any one person's experience. From this, we can derive the answer to the previous questions. How much do these cultural studies explain? Answer: if they are correct (a big assumption,) they illuminate one corner of the ocean. In fact, if those studies were properly conducted, they clearly state the limitations of their conclusions. Take those limitations seriously: they are the lines that demarcate the validity of the study's conclusions. What if the conclusions of the studies seem to explain everything about your life as an Asian American? Then that means you happen to be in that corner that those studies illuminate. That does not mean those studies are invalid, nor does it mean your experiences are not genuine. But it does mean that neither those studies nor your life experience will be universally applicable within your culture, because nothing is.

One data point does not explain the world. For that matter, not even a thousand data points explain the world. (And it is highly unlikely that you will even get to collect a thousand data points.) So avoid the temptation to explain more than what you know. Even the Asian American culture, a subset of both Asian culture and American culture, is greater than your own experience as an Asian American. Resist the hubris-filled temptation to find some grand unifying theory of culture, or speak of "typical" Asian cultural artifact (like "typical Korean father," for example.)

This may sound like some kind of relativistic nihilism. But it is not; rather, it is an exhortation to acknowledge that the world is a big place with innumerable moving parts, and one had better know how those parts work before talking about how the world works. Do you want to unearth the mysterious nexus between culture and behavior? By all means, go for it. Do you want to explain your life story in the context of cultural studies? Be my guest. But do be aware of how much you are seeking to explain, and know that no human is ever privy to the full wonders of the universe.

Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.

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50 Most Influential K-pop Artists: 13. Nah Hun-Ah

[Series Index]

13. Nah Hun-ah [나훈아]

Years of Activity: 1966-present (last album in 2006)

Discography:
(Because Nah Hun-ah's discography so extensive and not organized by albums, but by prominent individual songs, the discography is not presented here.)

Representative Song:  Hometown Station [고향역] from 1972.

고향역
Hometown Station

코스모스 피어있는 정든 고향역
My dear hometown station where cosmos flowers bloom
이뿐이 곱뿐이 모두 나와 반겨주겠지
 All the pretty girls will come out to welcome me
달려라 고향열차 설레는 가슴 안고
Run, the homeward train, clutching the expectant heart
눈감아도 떠오르는 그리운 나의 고향역
I see it even when my eyes are closed, my hometown station that I long for

코스모스 반겨주는 정든 고향역
My dear hometown station where cosmos flowers greet me
다정히 손잡고 고개 마루 넘어서 갈 때
When we tenderly hold hands and walk over the hill
흰머리 날리면서 달려온 어머님을
My mother who came running, with her white hair in the wind
얼싸안고 바라보았네 멀어진 나의 고향역
I embraced her and gazed, my hometown station far away

Translation notes:  If you can somehow translate 이뿐이 곱뿐이 in a satisfactory manner, you are a better translated than the Korean.

In 15 words or less:  Founder of modern trot music.

Maybe he should be ranked higher because...  FIFTY years of top-of-the-line popularity. Only one K-pop artist can conceivably match this level of high performance and consistency.

Maybe he should be ranked lower because...  Did not compose his own music.

Why is this artist important?

Trot, as a genre, does not get a fair shake in the narrative surrounding Korean pop music. The screaming fanboys and fangirls shun the music for being old-fashioned. The too-serious purveyors of Korean rock and hip hop look down on it for being banal. Often, trot singers are treated more like a clown than an artist--entertainers without a consciously directed purpose. A typical discography for trot singers is an unnavigable mess, because they release an incredible number of songs (that are far too similar to one another) without organizing them into thematic albums. It does not help that the genre is an artifact of the terrible era of Imperial Japan's colonization of Korea, during which Korea was forced to take in Western culture--including Western-style music--through the filter called Japan.

But this attitude is mistaken, because trot is extremely important in the history of K-pop. Indeed, it is the first genre of music that may be properly called "popular music" in Korea--that is, the first K-pop. Having been introduced in the early 1920s, it is the longest surviving genre of pop music in Korea. With its history now approaching a century, trot is the genre that is the mostly fully localized to Korean aesthetics. Trot may have begun as a foreign genre (and which K-pop genre did not?), but today, it is the most Korean K-pop.

Nah Hun-ah is important because he was primarily responsible for the final stage of trot's localization to Korea. As hard as it is to imagine, trot as a genre began as music for the urban elite, appealing to the small group of city-bound bourgeoisie that formed during the Japanese occupation. Gradually, especially after the end of the occupation, trot began to spread into the rest of Korea, more closely reflecting the national aesthetics. Trot's lyrics, once urbane and sophisticated, slowly became more rustic and pastoral. Although it originated from elsewhere, over time, trot came to evoke hometown and old times in the minds of Korean people.

During his prime in the 1970s, Nah Hun-ah was often referred to his rival Nam Jin [남진], another trot superstar who did have a slight edge in popularity compared to Nah. But a generation later, there is no contest between the two artists as to who left a lasting impact in Korean pop culture: Nah Hun-ah remains relevant in Korean pop culture today, while Nam Jin has faded into history. As it turns out, Nam Jin and Nah Hun-ah were moving toward opposite trends within trot music. Nam Jin was the last wave of trot singers who treated the genre as if it was for the urban elites, and Nah Hun-ah was the flag-bearer of the new direction of trot music. 

Hometown Station is the pinnacle of such re-orientation. The song is about hometown, where the unassuming cosmos flowers and the old mother greet the singer. The song is the logical ending place for a genre that has become Korea's own, and Nah Hun-ah was one of the artists who brought the genre home.

Interesting trivia:  Nah Hun-ah is also a participant in one of the greatest Korean pop culture scandals of all time. In 1976, it was revealed that Nah was dating Kim Ji-mi, the most popular actress of the time. In addition to the fact that Nah and Kim were respectively the top superstars of their fields, Kim was seven years older than Nah, and both were married when they began dating. Nah and Kim eventually married, but divorced after seven years. Nah would later marry a singer who was 14 years younger than he was. After 23 years of marriage, Nah's third wife recently filed for divorce.

Got a question or a comment for the Korean? Email away at askakorean@gmail.com.

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