Sacred spirit of Emille Bell

By Choe Chong-dae

This year, as with many years before, the peal of bells announced the coming of the New Year.

I myself have had the good fortune of hearing many over the years, experiencing the various sounds of New Year's bells. The beauty of Korean bells has been widely admired by many people at home and abroad. For me, it is difficult to think of Korean bells without thinking of the Divine Bell of King Seongdeok.

The ancient bronze bell, better known as the Emille Bell, derived its name from an ancient legend in which a baby was sacrificed in order to give sound to the bell, whose echoes of ``em-ee-leh’’ resemble the traditional Korean word for ``mommy.”

This unique bell was cast in 771 A.D. during the ancient Unified Silla Kingdom to use in prayer for the happiness of its 33rd king, Seongdeok. Today, it is preserved at the Gyeongju National Museum and is designated as a national treasure, measuring 3.3 meters high, 2.3 meters wide, and reputedly weighing a phenomenal 23,000 kilograms.

This skillfully wrought and gracefully embellished bell has been distinguished not only for the distinctive beauty of its two pairs of flying angels in relief and valuable inscriptions but also for its long, reverberating sound. There has never been, and never will be, such a bell as Emille. Accordingly, the craftsmanship has received high praise such as, "The bell alone is enough to establish a museum,” and ``Western bells are to be appreciated by the ears but Korean bells by the depth of the mind.”

Constantin Virgil Gheorghiu (1916 –1992), a prominent Romanian writer best known for his 1949 novel, ``The 25th Hour,” admired the sounds of the Emille Bell, remarking on how they were the most charming, melodious and solemn sounds, capable of comforting people's spirit. Gheorghiu visited the Gyeongju National Museum in 1974. He was very fortunate to hear the sound of the bell; the museum struck it in honor of his visit.

The Emille Bell was originally enshrined at Bongdeok Temple. Its fate was full of vicissitudes and was moved many times.

According to historical records, the bell was buried and disappeared with the temple due to heavy floods in the early 1400s. Fortunately, it was discovered rolling on the grounds of the ruins in a northern stream of Gyeongju.

Consequently, the bell was moved to Yeongmyo Temple in 1460, and was moved again to the foot of an ancient tumulus (large burial mound), in downtown Gyeongju in 1506. From there on, the bell was used to announce the opening and closing of the gate and the enlistment of soldiers.

Having served the public for approximately four centuries near the tumulus, the bell was moved to the old Museum of Gyeongju in 1915. During the colonial period, the fate of the Emille Bell was threatened. Ignoring the immense historical value of the bell, a Japanese governor-general to Korea instructed officials to have it melted down to make weapons.

However, due to active opposition from conscientious scholars, his suggestion was not fulfilled; the bell was spared. Finally, it was installed at the newly dedicated Gyeongju National Museum in 1975, where it has been on display to this day. Regrettably, the Emille Bell is no longer rung for concerns of its condition. However, until 1988 it was struck 33 times every New Year's Eve.

In the past, during my stays in Gyeongju, listening to the sound of the Emille Bell ringing evoked in me a moment of clarity where I could eliminate my scattered thoughts and attain enlightenment. I learned a valuable lesson from an ancestor who had produced the sacred bell, a masterpiece of Silla art that contains the sprit of progression, integration and creation.

Indeed, the Emille Bell is the greatest achievement of ancient Korean metalwork, a predecessor to the legacy that would become the nation’s strong steel manufacturing industry.

Choe Chong-dae is a guest columnist of The Korea Times and the president of Dae-kwang International Co., as well as a director of the Korean-Swedish Association. He can be reached at dkic98@chol.com.