REVIEW Book offers guided tour through Seoul's supernatural tales
The cover Shawn Morrissey's "Supernatural Encounters in South Korea" / Courtesy of Dark Side of Seoul
Creepy stories might be having a moment in pop culture. True crime, ghosts and cryptids spread across YouTube and podcasts; horror movies and supernatural thrillers pull in viewers; and Shawn Morrissey's book, “Supernatural Encounters in South Korea,” strikes while the iron is hot. Whether a believer or a skeptic, this book offers something fun to readers who enjoy a spooky yarn.
The book is a collection of stories Morrissey gathered over years of interviews, often finding subjects through the “Dark Side of Seoul” tour he guides. Meanwhile, Morrissey’s research connects these anecdotes to examples of local urban legends, Korean folk traditions and superstitions from all around the world. The result nearly stands as a primer on superstitions and spiritual tales, delivering more substance than a string of second-hand campfire tales would have done.
It takes a while to get to the stories, though. Nearly the first fifth of the book discusses the human impulse to believe in the supernatural and cultural differences, defending his choice to investigate Korean paranormal tales, noting that Koreans as a group are not uniquely superstitious or gullible. Morrissey admits that ghost stories can be the realm of charlatans and phonies, but insists that he is not a sucker, taken in by fibbers. As narrator, he affects a tone of open-minded skepticism, trying to be credible and credulous at the same time — a difficult needle to thread. He maintains that when someone shares a story that sounds far-fetched, it ought to be received with respect for the fact the person telling it believes it to be true.
Perhaps the author protests too much, but at last, it is time for stories! Short enough to read in a single sitting, the collection organizes and frames its spooky tales in a fun, readable fashion.
Chapters 2 to 5 discuss different types of ghosts, beginning with those attached to specific places like hospital wards and hotel rooms — transparent figures causing creaking floorboards, pulling blankets off beds and lurking around burial sites. Morrissey traces the backstory of the purportedly haunted psychiatric hospital in Gwangju, Gyeonggi Province, that inspired the Korean horror movie, “Gonjiam.” He also describes moving-day rituals to stop ghosts from following a family to their new home. Other chapters discuss spirits on the move — mountain spirits, bodiless runners on fitness trails and hitchhiking ghosts on bridges and roadsides. Next come the restless ghosts of soldiers, haunting 1950-53 Korean War battle sites and startling today's conscripts.
The book’s desire to be taken as a credible source pushes in the opposite direction of campfire storytelling methods, where the scare is the whole point. Morrissey recounts stories in a spare and factual style, delivering essential details without indulging in lurid or gory excesses. This casts the narrator as more reliable, but is admittedly less spine-shivering fun.
Shawn Morrissey visits Gyeonghui Palace in central Seoul during the Dark Side of Seoul Ghost Walk, Nov. 15, 2023. Korea Times photo by Jon Dunbar
The book’s most detailed and therefore spookiest tales appear in the fifth chapter, “Noctivigations,” where Morrissey describes a handful of ghostly encounters reported by guests on his “Dark Side of Seoul” ghost tours. The author himself was with these guests as they reported seeing or feeling paranormal presences — incidents that occur mostly around Gyeonghui Palace, considered the most haunted palace in Seoul. These descriptions are the most vivid and shine with detail, sending shivers further up the spine than other chapters. The sixth and final chapter is an intensely personal story with a paranormal angle. It tips the author’s hand about whether he is, ultimately, a believer or not, and brings the book to a satisfying conclusion.
While the final two chapters satisfy, some of the earlier chapters may leave readers wanting more. The anecdotal nature of the storytelling leaves some tales feeling unfinished. Some people never follow up with their promised email, never locate the photo that proves everything. Some simply vanish at the end of the tour, leaving their stories inconclusive.
The author also declines to give the locations for most of the stories. This keeps on the safe side of Korea’s draconian libel laws, lest the author "incur the wrath of litigious ghouls.” One story is set in a famous hotel with a haunted room, and concealing the name makes it feel like a setup without a payoff. The most frustrating omission is in Chapter 3, when discussing shamans, or "mudang," who connect with the spirit world. A self-proclaimed psychic says she can sense the presence of evil and talks of a place that curates “mugu” — implements used in ceremonies, which must be retired with proper rituals when they are no longer used. This place displays some improperly retired mugu which have attracted dark spirits. She warns readers to stay away, but there is no name, no hint at all of which site hapless readers must avoid.
Do ghosts and ghouls exist? Or are they nothing but human pattern-recognition gone haywire, forging familiar shapes from formless nature? By focusing on storytelling, this book tries to have it both ways, straddling skepticism and openness. This collection won’t convert anyone, but it is a fun journey through entertaining stories. The incidents are set in a cultural context that imbues them with just enough substance to make the book worthwhile, even for non-believers. For a reader who decides it is more fun to believe than not, there are some chills and mysteries to enjoy in these pages.
Visit darksideofseoul.com for more information and to order your own copy.
Rob Ouwehand has lived in Korea since 2003. You can find his opinions and commentary on his blog, roboseyo.blogspot.com, and his more creative work by searching for Roboseyo on YouTube or ArchiveOfOurOwn.org.