Na Hye-sŏk

Na Hye-sŏk HOME
Na Hye-sŏk Kyonghui "Oh dear, what a terrible rainy season this is," the portly in-law lady said, lighting the tobacco in her pipe. This was her first visit in a long while. "Yes, indeed it is! How have your grandchildren been these dreadful days? I apologize for neglecting to send servants over to ask after you," answered Mrs. Yi, lighting her own pipe. She was the wife of Yi Ch'olwon and the lady of the house. Her hair was streaked with gray, and a few stray wrinkles creased her forehead. "Please don't mention it. I haven't done my part, either. The little ones are fine, but their mother has had a stomachache for a few days. Although, when I left home today, she was up and around." "It's easy to get sick in this heat. You must have been quite worried." "I feel better now that she's all right. By the way, you must be happy to see your daughter back from Japan," the in-law lady added, as if suddenly remembering something that had slipped her mind. "It's always worrisome to send her abroad. When she comes back home at least once a year I feel relieved." Mrs. Yi tapped her pipe on the ashtray. "I know what you mean. It would be hard enough to send a son so far away, to say nothing of a daughter. I suppose she's been all right?" "Yes. Nothing particularly seems to be bothering her. Still, when she says there's nothing to worry about, I wonder if it's just to make me feel at ease. She looks haggard, and something tells me she hasn't been eating well or hasn't had an easy time of it." Turning toward the backyard court, Mrs. Yi called, "Look here, dear! Our in-law lady from Somunan has kindly come to see you." "Yes, mother," answered Kyonghui, who had been sitting on the cool back porch talking with her sister-in-law, whom she had not seen for a long time. While her sister-in-law sat mending a sock, Kyonghui had been at the sewing machine, working on her brother's summer shirt to go with his Western-style jacket. She had been talking about her life in Japan, telling about the incident in which she was almost run over by a streetcar on her way to somewhere and how it still made her nervous just to think about it now; and about how every winter morning her legs got stiff because she had to sleep tightly curled up. She told how it rains every other day in Japan and how one day, during a downpour, she was hurrying to make it to school on time in her high wooden sandals, when she fell, skinned her legs, tore her umbrella, and, worst of all, completely soiled her clothes--much to her embarrassment. She also talked about her studies and about various things she had seen on the streets of Japan. At the moment her mother called, Kyonghui was in the middle of telling her sister-in-law about a movie she had seen some time ago, about a young boy who, angry at his father for keeping him from having fun, hangs a notice on a big tree outside the gate of his house, offering his father for sale. Almost immediately, he receives an offer from a pair of small, orphaned children, a brother and sister, six or seven years old--just around his age--who hope to buy his father with their last two pennies--all they have left from their wanderings since the death of their parents. Totally absorbed in the story, Kyonghui's sister-in-law, who had let her mending drop into her lap without realizing it, exclaimed, "Oh, dear!" "So, what happened?" she pleaded eagerly. Right at that moment, Kyonghui was summoned by her mother. Frowning, her sister-in-law begged, "Please come back quickly." Even the maid, Siwol, clucked her tongue in displeasure, so intently had she too been listening to the story as she sat beside Kyonghui, starching the fresh laundry. "Of course. I will be right back," Kyonghui said and walked away smiling, as she was pleased with having such a good audience for her stories. Reaching the front porch, Kyonghui bowed respectfully to greet the in-law lady. By this time, Kyonghui had become good at bowing properly. She had already practiced it on her father and mother when she'd arrived home a few days earlier--a formality she had not kept up for a whole year. She was amused with her present demureness, so different from her carefree daily life in Japan. "Oh, dear, how weary you look! You must have had a hard time," the in-law lady said tenderly and even grasped and felt Kyonghui's hands. "Your hands feel as if you've been living with tough in-laws. I heard that female students have silky smooth hands, but what's the matter with yours?" "They've always been rough like this," answered Kyonghui, lowering her head. "It may be because she did her own laundry and even had to cook for herself," Kyonghui's mother cut in, as she re-lit her pipe. "Oh, dear!" said the in-law lady. "Then you must be doing these chores in Japan that you had never done at home. Is that the rule at your school?" The in-law lady was surprised. Kyonghui remained silent. Kyonghui's mother answered instead: "Not at all. She does it of her own will. I doubt she'd do so should someone force her to. We send her enough money to cover school expenses, but she says keeping busy is fun." Mrs. Yi repeated what Kyonghui had told her at bedtime the night before. "Why should you go that far?" the in-law lady asked, touching a few stray hairs hanging down on Kyonghui's forehead and tucking them behind her ears. She then patted Kyonghui on the back and gently stroked her face. "I heard that the Japanese don't even heat their homes during the winter and that they serve a puny amount of food for side dishes. How can you live on that?" "Yes, ma'am, you're right. But even though there's no heat at home, we manage to put up with it. And they serve us just the right amount for side dishes, and we don't feel something like lack of food." "That means everyone's having a hard time, though. By the way, your older sister couldn't come to see you because she's been ill these last few days. She'll surely be coming to see you this evening." "Thank you. Please do send her over. I have been dying to see her for so long." "Surely, I understand. Even I became anxious to see you once I heard you were back home. How much more so for sisters?" The in-law lady's words were full of sympathy, for she had experienced herself deep longing for her parents and siblings caused by her marriage into a family far away from her own home. "Are you going back to Japan again? Do you need to go that far? Why don't you stay home lady-like, marry into a rich family, have children, and live a happy life?" said the in-law lady, as if Kyonghui needed a lesson on such matters. Then she turned her eyes toward Kyonghui's mother, seated opposite her, as if to ask, "Don't you agree?" "Yes, ma'am. But I guess I should stay in school until I finish my studies," said Kyonghui. "Why do you need to study so much? You're not a man, so you won't have to serve as head of the county or even as a clerk in the district office. Besides, these days even men with schooling have a hard time finding work." The in-law lady seemed very much worked up. She had wondered why on earth her in-laws here let their daughter go as far away as Japan to study and what was the purpose of such education. But since it was a family matter for her in-laws--people she should be cautious about--she had tried her best to feign disinterest. Secretly, however, she had long been carping at them, "Who is going to marry such a girl?" Now that she was offered such a perfect chance to let out what was on her mind, she seized the moment. Kyonghui knew precisely what the in-law lady was going to say: "Get married without delay! What are you studying for?" So she couldn't help thinking, "There she goes!" She also realized that the in-law lady's words echoed those of her mother's sister, who had come to visit the day before, as well as those of her Big Uncle's wife, who always expressed such concern whenever she saw Kyonghui. Kyonghui was certain that this summer, just like last summer, they would fire similar barrages at her. Her lips itched to speak up: "Human beings don't exist for food and clothes alone, you know. We become human beings only when we get educated and informed. The reason your husband and sons have as many as four concubines among them is that they don't have education, and the reason you are so sick at heart over this is your own lack of education. We have to teach women how to prevent their husbands from taking mistresses and from keeping concubines even when they already have wives." Kyonghui wanted to cite more examples by way of explanation, but she knew for sure that the in-law lady would respond with words identical to those Kyonghui's grandmother had used during her earlier visit in the morning: "Listen, dear, in the olden days even ignorant women lived happy, long lives, blessed with wealth and many sons. Women are better off when they don't even know how to tell directions. Dear child, you should know that even educated girls end up doing menial tasks like milling barley. A man is not worthy of the name unless he keeps at least one concubine." Kyonghui realized that talking to the in-law lady would be like preaching to deaf ears--a simple waste of her time--and would keep her awake that night thinking about the matter. She chose instead to simply keep her mouth shut, aware that once she started talking, she would get hopelessly frustrated; besides, she was concerned that, if the talk drew out, it would delay her return to her sister-in-law and Siwol, who were waiting for her on the back porch. Furthermore, she also knew that the in-law lady was notorious for slandering, embellishing secondhand stories with her own lies, and was particularly good at fault finding and slurring when it came to matters regarding female students. Therefore, Kyonghui sensed the in-law lady wouldn't take her explanation or clarification seriously, no matter how hard she tried. Some time ago, her older sister had also warned her: "Listen, you have to be tight-lipped in front of my mother-in-law, especially about anything related to the topic of marriage. She says that the world has gone mad, what with female students talking brazenly about marriage; when she was growing up, young girls didn't dare to mention such subjects. That's not all. I have no idea … Translated by Yung-Hee Kim

Kyonghui

"Oh dear, what a terrible rainy season this is," the portly in-law lady said, lighting the tobacco in her pipe. This was her first visit in a long while.

"Yes, indeed it is! How have your grandchildren been these dreadful days? I apologize for neglecting to send servants over to ask after you," answered Mrs. Yi, lighting her own pipe. She was the wife of Yi Ch'olwon and the lady of the house. Her hair was streaked with gray, and a few stray wrinkles creased her forehead.

"Please don't mention it. I haven't done my part, either. The little ones are fine, but their mother has had a stomachache for a few days. Although, when I left home today, she was up and around."

"It's easy to get sick in this heat. You must have been quite worried."

"I feel better now that she's all right. By the way, you must be happy to see your daughter back from Japan," the in-law lady added, as if suddenly remembering something that had slipped her mind.

"It's always worrisome to send her abroad. When she comes back home at least once a year I feel relieved." Mrs. Yi tapped her pipe on the ashtray. "I know what you mean. It would be hard enough to send a son so far away, to say nothing of a daughter. I suppose she's been all right?"

"Yes. Nothing particularly seems to be bothering her. Still, when she says there's nothing to worry about, I wonder if it's just to make me feel at ease. She looks haggard, and something tells me she hasn't been eating well or hasn't had an easy time of it." Turning toward the backyard court, Mrs. Yi called, "Look here, dear! Our in-law lady from Somunan has kindly come to see you."

"Yes, mother," answered Kyonghui, who had been sitting on the cool back porch talking with her sister-in-law, whom she had not seen for a long time. While her sister-in-law sat mending a sock, Kyonghui had been at the sewing machine, working on her brother's summer shirt to go with his Western-style jacket. She had been talking about her life in Japan, telling about the incident in which she was almost run over by a streetcar on her way to somewhere and how it still made her nervous just to think about it now; and about how every winter morning her legs got stiff because she had to sleep tightly curled up. She told how it rains every other day in Japan and how one day, during a downpour, she was hurrying to make it to school on time in her high wooden sandals, when she fell, skinned her legs, tore her umbrella, and, worst of all, completely soiled her clothes--much to her embarrassment. She also talked about her studies and about various things she had seen on the streets of Japan.

At the moment her mother called, Kyonghui was in the middle of telling her sister-in-law about a movie she had seen some time ago, about a young boy who, angry at his father for keeping him from having fun, hangs a notice on a big tree outside the gate of his house, offering his father for sale. Almost immediately, he receives an offer from a pair of small, orphaned children, a brother and sister, six or seven years old--just around his age--who hope to buy his father with their last two pennies--all they have left from their wanderings since the death of their parents.

Totally absorbed in the story, Kyonghui's sister-in-law, who had let her mending drop into her lap without realizing it, exclaimed, "Oh, dear!" "So, what happened?" she pleaded eagerly. Right at that moment, Kyonghui was summoned by her mother. Frowning, her sister-in-law begged, "Please come back quickly." Even the maid, Siwol, clucked her tongue in displeasure, so intently had she too been listening to the story as she sat beside Kyonghui, starching the fresh laundry. "Of course. I will be right back," Kyonghui said and walked away smiling, as she was pleased with having such a good audience for her stories.

Reaching the front porch, Kyonghui bowed respectfully to greet the in-law lady. By this time, Kyonghui had become good at bowing properly. She had already practiced it on her father and mother when she'd arrived home a few days earlier--a formality she had not kept up for a whole year. She was amused with her present demureness, so different from her carefree daily life in Japan.

"Oh, dear, how weary you look! You must have had a hard time," the in-law lady said tenderly and even grasped and felt Kyonghui's hands.

"Your hands feel as if you've been living with tough in-laws. I heard that female students have silky smooth hands, but what's the matter with yours?"

"They've always been rough like this," answered Kyonghui, lowering her head.

"It may be because she did her own laundry and even had to cook for herself," Kyonghui's mother cut in, as she re-lit her pipe.

"Oh, dear!" said the in-law lady. "Then you must be doing these chores in Japan that you had never done at home. Is that the rule at your school?" The in-law lady was surprised. Kyonghui remained silent.

Kyonghui's mother answered instead: "Not at all. She does it of her own will. I doubt she'd do so should someone force her to. We send her enough money to cover school expenses, but she says keeping busy is fun." Mrs. Yi repeated what Kyonghui had told her at bedtime the night before.

"Why should you go that far?" the in-law lady asked, touching a few stray hairs hanging down on Kyonghui's forehead and tucking them behind her ears. She then patted Kyonghui on the back and gently stroked her face.

"I heard that the Japanese don't even heat their homes during the winter and that they serve a puny amount of food for side dishes. How can you live on that?"

"Yes, ma'am, you're right. But even though there's no heat at home, we manage to put up with it. And they serve us just the right amount for side dishes, and we don't feel something like lack of food."

"That means everyone's having a hard time, though. By the way, your older sister couldn't come to see you because she's been ill these last few days. She'll surely be coming to see you this evening."

"Thank you. Please do send her over. I have been dying to see her for so long."

"Surely, I understand. Even I became anxious to see you once I heard you were back home. How much more so for sisters?"

The in-law lady's words were full of sympathy, for she had experienced herself deep longing for her parents and siblings caused by her marriage into a family far away from her own home.

"Are you going back to Japan again? Do you need to go that far? Why don't you stay home lady-like, marry into a rich family, have children, and live a happy life?" said the in-law lady, as if Kyonghui needed a lesson on such matters. Then she turned her eyes toward Kyonghui's mother, seated opposite her, as if to ask, "Don't you agree?"

"Yes, ma'am. But I guess I should stay in school until I finish my studies," said Kyonghui.

"Why do you need to study so much? You're not a man, so you won't have to serve as head of the county or even as a clerk in the district office. Besides, these days even men with schooling have a hard time finding work."

The in-law lady seemed very much worked up. She had wondered why on earth her in-laws here let their daughter go as far away as Japan to study and what was the purpose of such education. But since it was a family matter for her in-laws--people she should be cautious about--she had tried her best to feign disinterest. Secretly, however, she had long been carping at them, "Who is going to marry such a girl?" Now that she was offered such a perfect chance to let out what was on her mind, she seized the moment.

Kyonghui knew precisely what the in-law lady was going to say: "Get married without delay! What are you studying for?" So she couldn't help thinking, "There she goes!" She also realized that the in-law lady's words echoed those of her mother's sister, who had come to visit the day before, as well as those of her Big Uncle's wife, who always expressed such concern whenever she saw Kyonghui. Kyonghui was certain that this summer, just like last summer, they would fire similar barrages at her.

Her lips itched to speak up: "Human beings don't exist for food and clothes alone, you know. We become human beings only when we get educated and informed. The reason your husband and sons have as many as four concubines among them is that they don't have education, and the reason you are so sick at heart over this is your own lack of education. We have to teach women how to prevent their husbands from taking mistresses and from keeping concubines even when they already have wives."

Kyonghui wanted to cite more examples by way of explanation, but she knew for sure that the in-law lady would respond with words identical to those Kyonghui's grandmother had used during her earlier visit in the morning: "Listen, dear, in the olden days even ignorant women lived happy, long lives, blessed with wealth and many sons. Women are better off when they don't even know how to tell directions. Dear child, you should know that even educated girls end up doing menial tasks like milling barley. A man is not worthy of the name unless he keeps at least one concubine."

Kyonghui realized that talking to the in-law lady would be like preaching to deaf ears--a simple waste of her time--and would keep her awake that night thinking about the matter. She chose instead to simply keep her mouth shut, aware that once she started talking, she would get hopelessly frustrated; besides, she was concerned that, if the talk drew out, it would delay her return to her sister-in-law and Siwol, who were waiting for her on the back porch. Furthermore, she also knew that the in-law lady was notorious for slandering, embellishing secondhand stories with her own lies, and was particularly good at fault finding and slurring when it came to matters regarding female students. Therefore, Kyonghui sensed the in-law lady wouldn't take her explanation or clarification seriously, no matter how hard she tried. Some time ago, her older sister had also warned her: "Listen, you have to be tight-lipped in front of my mother-in-law, especially about anything related to the topic of marriage. She says that the world has gone mad, what with female students talking brazenly about marriage; when she was growing up, young girls didn't dare to mention such subjects. That's not all. I have no idea …

Translated by Yung-Hee Kim