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In 1687, a man calling himself Yu Yŏlli was discovered begging from the common people of Chido garrison in Chŏlla Province by pretending to be a Chinese castaway. Although the Chosŏn court eventually established that he was lying, it took a full month to come to this conclusion, despite what seems at times to have been a very flimsily constructed identity on Yu’s part. This article argues that he succeeded because he effectively reproduced the established Ming Loyalist narrative of the Chosŏn court, and also because of his initial location in the unstable and uncertain world of the southwestern islands. His lies, for this reason, are very useful for understanding the ideological presuppositions of late Chosŏn society.

This article investigates what kind of otherness the British projected onto Korea in the 1900s through a close examination of newspaper articles. The point of departure of this work is the idea that Westerners’ conception of the Orient in this period was not monolithic but hierarchically structured. What this article attempts is thus to reveal the distinct position Korea occupied within the assumed Orient, a position different from, and assigned particularly in relation to, that of Japan. It will be shown that Korea was perceived by British newspapers as a Japanese Egypt, an image made possible by the imperialist notion of the modern state shared, overtly or otherwise, by both British and Japanese intellectuals and discrimination in the application of the idea of national freedom. While Korea was largely perceived in terms of what were presumably inherent Oriental traits such as inertness, conservativeness, and laziness, the British accorded a distinct sense of otherness to Korea based on their individualized yet hierarchical understanding of the Orient. Therefore, the phrase ‘a Japanese Egypt,’ coined to describe Korea, represents the marginalized position Korea occupied within the British conception of the Orient.

This study examines the discourses on early marriage that peaked from the late Chosŏn through the colonial era in Korea. It specifically addresses the definition of chohon as a harmful Korean tradition, beginning with the criticism of chohon as a practice that supposedly led to the downfall of the state in the late Chosŏn. Chohon was identified as the cause of women’s adultery and husband murders, and it was defined as a pernicious tradition that compromised the security of the state. However, behind the chohon discourse, a certain type of politics was in play. By analyzing the definition of chohon as a vice, this study confirms that the modern politics of population was involved. According to these discourses, chohon was criticized as a major threat to the security of the society and state, the discourse against it challenged the existing notions of marriage and the family; and repositioned the happy family and the sweet home as the basic unit for the development of the state. The family was believed to be the vital aspect of a modern state, which was therefore used to manage the population. The state and the family were in a complex relationship as the quality of the population was managed to develop a strong nation. The belief that a high-quality population improves national competitiveness and wealth situated chohon as harmful to the nation. In Korea, chohon discourses were deeply related to Western modernity.

Kim Namch’ŏn’s 1939 novel of manners, Taeha (Scenes from the Enlightenment), offers a snapshot of Korea at a crucial point in its modern history, the beginning of the Japanese colonial period. The town in which the novel takes place is an ideological battleground as old clashes with new. In terms of the social order, the old guard of the yangban aristocrats clings desperately to the last threads of its status and prestige, but the yangban must u ltimately a dmit d efeat a nd m ake w ay f or t he r ise o f t he c apitalist. Ideologically as well, different philosophies clash, with traditional shamanism and superstitions being denounced by the new enlightenment thinkers and Christian proselytizers. Yet there is one clash that the author deals with only in the subtlest of terms: the clash between the Korean people and the Japanese colonizers. Although this has been seen as a weakness in the novel’s historical consciousness, Kim Namch’ŏn’s depictions of the clashes between old and new cultures are nuanced; neither side is portrayed as being wholly right and effective. While it i s clear that the new is winning out over the old, the picture that we are left with is not a stark black-and-white image but a much more nuanced understanding of this tumultuous transitional period.

Released in 1961, Sin Sangok’s film Sangnoksu (Evergreen tree) is an important example of an artistic work that was both directly and indirectly employed as an instrument of the rural modernization policies and the underlying ideological objectives of the Pak Chŏnghŭi regime. The film reveals the subtle and complex interrelationship between the (popular) art and politics of the 1960s. As the negotiation between authority and consensus characterizes the direction of the modernization of Korean society during the 1960s, this article argues that Sangnoksu served as the emotional medium that bridged the gap. In addition, it also illuminates how the film as a form of popular art is associated with the construction of mentalité toward Korea’s modernization. This article seeks to identify implicit aesthetic principles to discuss the political signification of the film in Korean society during the 1960s and its function as an allegory to provide logical appeals and emotional assurance.

Taekwondo's popular, historical narrative presents an excellent example of nationalistic attitudes in South Korean society toward portraying historical accounts in a favorable light, regardless of empirical evidence. This article explores various historical accounts regarding the origins of taekwondo, as presented by early taekwondo pioneers. After Korea's liberation from Japanese colonial rule, taekwondo's earliest and most central historical source became the hwarang myth, which dominated, due to its promotion by the government as a symbol of South Korea's military might, martial traditions, and nationalism. Only over time, did a variety of additional events result in an 'official' martial arts narrative for taekwondo. By 1971, the accounts became consolidated and unified with taekwondo's emergence as an internationally known Korean national sport, with all references to foreign influences omitted from the official record. This article demonstrates how the creation of taekwondo's historical narrative represents a classic case of, 'the invention of tradition.'

Buddhism introduced the concept of hell to East Asia, and many tales of hell were circulated. The narrative “Sŏnyul comes back to life” accompanied the dissemination of the concept of hell in the Unified Silla period. This story describes suffering in hell as retribution for the unwholesome act of stealing monastery possessions. However, the punishment in hell is not eternal in this story, and one can be saved through performing a memorial service for the dead. Memorial services for the dead are done by making offerings to the Three Jewels—the Buddha, Dharma, and Saṃgha—by giving one’s possessions to monasteries. The story “Sŏnyul comes back to life” seems to have been written by monks and been circulated as a karma tale of a Buddhist ceremony for the production of sutras and for appreciating the teachings of the sutras. Buddhist ceremonies were constructed and performed for the purpose of amassing meritorious virtues and expelling calamities through such things as reading sutras and understanding their content. Among these, dramatic preaching of the dharma was performed to communicate to ordinary people in a more lively and interesting manner than the teaching of the sutras. Animated stories of hell about actual people who could have been the listeners’ own neighbors were performed, and the story of “Sŏnyul comes back to life” seems to have been told at such a ceremony. In a story performed in a lifelike manner, sympathetic people willingly contributed their hearts and possessions to the Buddha, monks, and monasteries for the sake of their own futures.

Confucian Orthodoxy, “Daotong” (K. Tot’ong 道統), which establishes Confucianism and Neo-Confucianism as Right Learning (正學), is an idea transcending history in the sense that it is unaffected by the passage of time or contingent factors, whereas “Daotong discourse” (道統論), which distinguishes heterodoxy from the viewpoint of Daotong, is always a historical praxis and a logic operated by a specific historical momentum. Daotong discourse had not been a topical issue in Chosŏn since the time it had accepted Zhu Xi (朱熹) and his interpretation of Confucianism as orthodoxy. Only after the Jesuits entered China in the sixteenth century to introduce their theocentric worldview and academic system that supported it did the need to update a list of heterodoxies and to re-operate Daotong discourse emerge. The Jesuits’ introduction of Western Learning (西學) did not provoke an immediate backlash from scholars in Chosŏn. Research on Western Learning by Sŏngho Yi Ik (星湖 李瀷, 1681–1763) with his open and practical attitude was a good example. However, the vigorous research on Western Learning eventually came to divide the Sŏngho School into two groups “the pro-Western Learning line” (親西派) and “the anti-Western Learning line” (攻西派), schools of thought that came into conflict. This article examines the attitudes of Sŏngho and his School members towards Western Learning, not by focusing on the dichotomy between pro- and anti-Western Learning, but by focusing on “civilization” and the “expansion of Confucianism,” because, as far as Daotong is a universal idea guaranteeing social order and the moral cultivation of individuals, it is also an idea of civilization. If viewed from the perspective of civilization, Western Learning can be regarded, not as mere heretical discourse, but as a practical and intellectual resource that can encourage moral cultivation, improve public welfare, and develop nations, and acceptance of Western Learning can be viewed as a matter of academic and technological progress rather than merely that of orthodoxy. In this context, the controversy within the Sŏngho School that attempted to include not only philosophical speculations but also practical knowledge into the essential nature of Confucianism may be estimated as being an attempt to expand Confucianism, regardless of any individual member’s stance on the issue.

This article examines a thesis by Namdang, a Confucian scholar in Chosŏn Korea, on the natures of humans and non-human living beings, using Zhu Xi’s li (理) - qi (氣) theory. Regarding the sameness or difference between li and qi, Zhu Xi formulated different opinions in his early and later life and was also at times inconsistent in his works of a certain period. To a certain extent, Zhu Xi’s thoughts lacked coherence, which led to subsequent debates. In seeking to develop Zhu Xi’s li-qi theory, Namdang put forward his original thesis of Trichotomous Nature, which significantly enriched Zhu Xi’s ideas. The “nature transcending the appearance of things” (K. ch’ohyŏnggi 超形氣) refers to a pure xing (K. sŏng 性; nature), concerned with only li without considering the influence of qi from the perspective of a unitary source (K. irwŏn 一原; one source). At this stage, everything shares the same li and xing. The “nature originated from temperament” (K. in’gijil 因氣質) demonstrates the shared nature for the same species as well as the difference in nature across species, thus being an endowmentdependent li. At this stage, for the same species, they share the same li, qi, and xing, while for varying species, there is a difference in li, qi, and xing. The “nature mixed with temperament” (K. chapkijil 雜氣質) considers the xing of pure qizhi (K. kijil 氣質; physical temperament) in which all creatures differ. It is thus a concept that demonstrates the particularity in all things, with varying differences in li, qi, and xing.

The Four-Character Elementary Learning (Saja sohak) is a short 1250-character-long collection of basic Confucian decorum and moralistic aphorisms, which is by far the most commonly-used Confucian primer in Korea today. It is studied, at least partially, by approximately half of all Korean elementary school students as part of the burgeoning ‘decorum’ or ‘humanistic’ courses and camps (yejŏl kyoyuk, insŏng kyoyuk), now organized in public schools, hyanggyo’s, and sŏdang’s throughout the peninsula.1 In many of these programs the text is learned by communal chanting and memorization, a method which certainly imbues its moralistic instructions with certain authority and sanctity. I have met several twenty-year-old students who could still chant from memory parts of this text, ten years after spending a few days in one of these camps. In fact, the Saja sohak is the only Confucian book actually taught on a large scale to Koreans today. Its particular injunctions are internalized and often guide the attitudes and actions of many, and as such—it certainly deserves further attention. Unlike the Dizi gui (弟子規), a comparable seventeenth-century Confucian primer often used in China and Taiwan,2 the Saja sohak seems to be a modern compilation. There have been no references to it prior to the twentieth-century, and its earliest existing anonymous woodblock edition was dated to 1932.3 Although the title seems to refer to Zhu Xi’s Elementary Learning (小學, C. Xiao xue, K. Sohak), the Saja sohak is not a simple summary of this predominant work but a whole new alternative.4 Unlike Zhu Xi’s text, the Saja sohak centers on decorum and behavioral codes and mostly shies away from theoretical expositions. Additionally, many of the aphorisms in the Saja sohak are not taken directly from the Elementary Learning but are rather selectively extracted from the ancient Book of Rites, the Analects, the Book of Poems, the Book of Changes, the Twenty-four Paragons of Filial Piety, and from the writings of Korean Confucian scholar Yi I Yulgok (1536– 1584).5 I have divided the following translation into eight subsections according to specific social-relationship comportments: filial piety and dutifulness, distinctions between husband and wife, sharing between older and younger siblings, respecting teachers, honoring elders, receiving guests, proper friends, and general decorum attitudes. As might be expected from a Confucian primer aimed mainly for children, the largest sections are the ones dealing with filial piety (about 33%), sibling behaviors (about 20%), and the proper making of friends (almost 20%). Some of the injunctions in the Saja sohak may seem anachronistic, overly severe, paternalistic, and sexist to the reader. Nevertheless, the fact that it is still used today in the instruction of a substantial portion of the Korean population, certainly makes it a crucial literary snippet of Korean culture in the twenty-firstcentury.