Beauty and life

 

I have in my possession a beautiful, framed symbol of Korea. It came to me from a colleague and represented an act of friendship and collegiality. It hangs on my office wall and calls me to remember Korea and my happiness as a student of Korean politics, society and culture every time I see it. I enjoy talking with visitors to my office about it and then usually adding a mention or two of something about Korea. These days it's one way I renew my interest in and love of Korean civilization and her people.

I see in Korean cultural artifacts a tendency in the more royal or ceremonial to use vibrant colors, admixed with gold threading, embellishments, images of mythological animals or other geometric designs. They contrast with a second prevalent style in Korea more typical of religious and countryside clothing, artworks and objects that are modest in appearance. I don't find this atypical of cultures, not that I'm an anthropologist. It's another way that I approach thinking about Korea.

My object has the double happiness characters on a field of beautiful blue. I've considered this symbol a sign of joy and union, specifically love in marriage. Doubtlessly, it possesses wider meanings. The ability to mix what is thought opposite or opposed to create something far better than either part alone is itself a kind of mystery come to life. That love tends to do this is a sign of the miraculous in human nature, wherever it occurs. Contraries are not contradictories in many contexts.

If it's not clear by now, I don't know what the object I have really is. It likely is a head, hair or clothing adornment for a woman. Its colors feature a lot of red tones, and it's very pretty. Though a man, I enjoy viewing and appreciating the beauty of these types of objects. To say the truth, it's an object that also guides me to contemplation and prayers for hope.

I realize that traditional clothes still have currency in Korea, though perhaps less so than in the past. Both the colorful and modest feature prominently in celebrations like "Chuseok," or major Korean mid-autumn harvest festival, weddings, funerals and reenactments or other ceremonial events. One of the interesting features of clothing, among other objects or works of art, is how they persist and adopt new forms and varieties over time.

Some of the features of my object use geometry to mimic nature. I think people today need to remember that nature is real. We tend to accent human efforts to exceed or improve upon or escape what may be seen as the limits or negatives of nature. That's impossible in any ultimate sense. Or that's a presupposition of much human reason, past and present, which I share. The use of human means to imitate nature is value-neutral. It's good or badness all depends. I like my object's imitation of flowers, clouds or perhaps flowers in its geometric designs.

Recently, I turned 60. I enjoyed a version of "hwangap," the Korean celebration of a person's 60th birthday. I returned to my home state of Tennessee to honor my mother, siblings and their families. My wife and sister-in-law joined me on the journey by car. We enjoyed visiting the hills of Tennessee and their hot and muggy if familiar and beautiful places. The rain has been good this year, so everything seemed green and lush, even though it was August. I, a dragon and a lion, enjoyed talking with momma about my coming to be. It was special to feel treated by my immediate family as special, which we all surely are. And I feel good to be 60. God has a plan for me, and along the way, there were signs for me that I'm on it, reminders of His presence in my life and the lives of those around me.

I think I'll pass my Korean object along to my daughter, or perhaps to her daughter, in time. It's a beautiful thing, and it reminds me of life. I hope to find a similar talisman representing the more austere side of Korean symbolism and culture. I think I'll pass that on to a grandson of mine, all being well, in the future.

I often praise what I take to be a syncretism or tendency to join things present in Korean culture. In thinking about this column, I know that tendency is present in my life. It's given me strength, hope and a resource to address challenges. I owe much of it to Korea and my lifelong learning there and here about the greatness of Korean civilization. Kamsahamnida.

Bernard Rowan (browan10@yahoo.com) is associate provost for contract administration and academic services and professor of political science at Chicago State University. He is a past fellow of the Korea Foundation and a former visiting professor at Hanyang University.