By Andrei Lankov
The large history of empires, migrations, and economic trends consists of countless small histories, histories of common people. The great tragedies of nations and civilizations consist of smaller tragedies which frequently disappear over the historical horizon. Only sometimes are such small traumas remembered ― more often than not when some of the people involved were somehow prominent and thus `worthy of remembrance.'
One such minor tragedy struck the family of Kim Sang-do, an owner of a successful mining enterprise in North Pyeongan Province in what is now North Korea. We are aware of this incident only because Kim Sang-do's grandson, Kim So-wol would eventually become the greatest Korean poet of the 20th century.
Kim Sang-do was a man of remarkable intelligence and common sense. Like many Korean businessmen, he embraced the reforms and enlightenment, being the first person in the district who chose to cut his topknot. This was not merely a change of hairstyle: by cutting their topknots, Koreans of the 1890s made a powerful political statement, they sided with reform and modernization against tradition and Confucian orthodoxy.
The family was affluent. Kim Sang-do, despite being a figure of authority, was obviously a caring person, much respected inside and outside the family. The old family house, then about a hundred years old, was nested among the ancient pine trees and covered with tiles ― a visible sigh of prosperity.
This was as close to an idyll as one could possibly get in that troubled era. But then disaster struck. The incident which happened in 1904 was ugly, unexpected and, obviously, very typical for those times. Such events explain the Koreans' hostility towards Japanese which sometimes perplex a foreign observer.
At the time Kim Sung-do, Kim So-wol's father, was 20 years old, and his wife had just given birth to his first son, the future great poet. After the birth, she briefly stayed with her parents, and Kim Sung-do, accompanied by a servant, rode to his in-laws to see his wife. He took along some delicacies.
On his way Kim Sung-do had to cross a construction site. The Japanese were building a railway line between Kwaksan and Chungju. This was a part of the Japanese grand strategy: the railways would make the Korean countryside market accessible to Japanese goods, and would also facilitate troop movements across the country.
The unskilled work at the construction site was done by the Koreans, but the foremen and skilled workers were Japanese. Often the railway companies also had armed guards who were Japanese as well.
Kim Sung-do had to cross the newly constructed line. This annoyed a Japanese foreman who began to yell at Kim Sung-do and his servant. According to another report, the workers wanted to grab the presents he was taking to his wife and in-laws. Whatever the reason, Kim Sung-do was attacked, severely beaten, and could barely walk away from the scene.
The news of Kim Sung-do's beatings led to local unrest. Local labourers went on strike, and the Japanese managers decided to ``teach the unruly Koreans" a lesson (according to another version, they initially came to Kim Sung-do's house to negotiate, but then things turned ugly). Whatever their original plans were, Kim Sung-do ended up being beaten once again - this time, in his own house.
Obviously, he suffered serious psychological damage, and it is also likely that he had incurred some brain damage. After a few months of sickness, Kim Sung-do began to recover. However, soon the family members noticed that he acted 'strangely'. He suffered serious bouts of depression and frequent rages of angst, his memory began to wane, and he was often unable to do any kind of mental work. He took up drinking, and became uncontrollable when drunk.
For Kim Sang-do, the poet's grandfather, this was a heavy blow. His son was obviously unable to take over the family business. What would happen to the family?
Kim Sang-do tried to cure his son. The treatment of psychiatric patients leaves much to be desired even now, let alone considering the situation in the early 1900s.The old free thinker even forgot about his sceptical approach to the spirits and demons, and began to invite shamans to his son. Their treatment consisted of beating, heavy restraints, and cold baths. Shamans believed that this would drive the evil spirits away. It did not.
Meanwhile, Kim Sang-do came to put all his hope on his grandson, who was born shortly before the disaster. The boy was sent one of the best schools in the area. He studied well. But very soon it became clear that young Kim So-wol was not going to be a promising businessman. But that is another story…
Prof. Andrei Lankov was born in St. Petersburg, Russia, and now teaches at Kookmin University in Seoul.