Frozen in time: Pictures tell colorful story of the past

The trophy of a dead tiger, circa 1900s. Diane Nars Collection

By Robert Neff

Every picture has a story to tell, but the same picture doesn't always tell the same story.

Based on their experiences, knowledge and prejudices, each viewer interprets the pictures in their own way. Readers of this column are sometimes kind enough to point out the mistakes I make in regards to the images. Occasionally, they even provide anecdotes from their own childhood ― I cannot express enough my appreciation for their kindness in sharing something so personal.

Last week I learned, much to my great sadness, that Seung U. Kim ― emeritus professor of the University of British Columbia ― had died earlier this year. I was unaware of his passing because his wife, Margaret, continued to maintain his Facebook account. She said he greatly enjoyed my pictures and articles and she intends to keep his account active so that she can continue to read this column and my posts. It is a compliment that I hardly deserve.

An animated scene of soldiers and onlookers in the early 1900s. Robert Neff Collection

I never had the opportunity to meet Prof. Kim ― all of our communication took place via Facebook ― but he was always willing to provide an anecdote or an observation on my posts. His interest was inspiring as were his occasional requests for pictures of my bike rides to the various historical places around Korea.

In memory of Prof. Kim, I asked Diane Nars ― my collaborator who often allows me to supplement my image collection with hers ― for three of her favorite postcard images in her collection and the reason why she chose them. I also chose three images from my own collection ― hand-colored postcards that are visually beautiful but perhaps not as accurate or as soundly based as Diane's.

A young man of the upper class mounted on a pony and crossing a stream, circa 1900s. Diane Nars Collection

A staged scene of child laborers, circa 1900s. Robert Neff Collection

The first postcard image from Diane Nars is that of the tiger. According to her: "This is one of my favorites, although it is a shame the tiger has been killed. Of course I am judging by the times I live in and not the times these people were living in. The stories of the tigers roaming the country are fascinating."

Perhaps one of the stories she was referring to was of a tiger that prowled Gyeongbok Palace in 1893 ― probably hunting the tame little deer kept there. There were even claims (probably exaggerated) of tigers stalking the gloomy, unlit streets of Seoul ― the silence shattered by the screams of their unwary victims fighting a losing battle for their lives.

My first image appears to be of a large crowd near a railroad station. I have no idea where this was taken but I like it because it seems so animated ― the Korean yangban (gentry) and railroad tracks in the foreground and what looks like a large number of soldiers in the background. It is a shame Prof. Kim can no longer provide an opinion as to what this image depicts. Perhaps a reader can.

Diane's second image is that of a Korean smoking his pipe while crossing a stream on his small pony. "This one has always appealed to me because it illustrates just how small the Korean ponies were, although their reputations were certainly larger than life." These ponies certainly had a reputation.

The wife of a missionary wrote: "Two of those poor little pack-ponies which I had been pitying all along for the terrible way their relentless mapoos [pony handlers] overloaded them, began fighting (loads and all), and after kicking each other in the liveliest fashion for some time, squealing like little fiends, while the poor mapoos were dancing and vociferating around them trying to bring about a truce, they finally scampered off in different directions, and then and there my heart hardened, and never since has pity for these animals entered it. They are, I firmly opine, as self-willed, spoiled, obstinate, quarrelsome, uncertain, tricky and tough little beasts as ever carried a load."

My second image is that of a staged scene of child laborers. Their faces are beautiful and innocent ― not unlike the faces of school children we encountered on the streets last year before COVID 19 caused them to be hidden behind masks.

Diane's final image is that of the Independence Gate. "No matter how many times I see an image of this, and no matter what the view, I always find the Independence Gate to be a striking sight." I, too, share her appreciation for the gate. Every time I pass it on my bike I think about the tigers that once roamed the mountains flanking it and the goblins that played merry mischief on travelers who were unlucky enough to have to pass by it in the hours of darkness.

The Independence Gate, circa 1900s. Diane Nars Collection

My final image is that of the water-carriers at a well in Seoul. They were the lifeblood of the city. According to one observer in the early 1900s:

"It is a peculiar fact that very many of the water-carriers of Seoul are from the far north-eastern province of Hamgyeong. Low as the water-carriers are, many gentlemen of Hamgyeong Province have acted in this capacity in Seoul. Desiring to try the national examinations, they would come down to the capital and work as water-carriers for several months until they could get together a little money and then they would try the examinations. It is a very paying business; in fact, when a water-carrier wants to give up the business he can sell his position in the guild for an amount equal to all the wages he would receive during a year and a half."

Margaret, I wish to express my condolences to you and your family. May your beloved husband rest in peace and never be forgotten.

Water-carriers in Seoul in the late 1890s. Robert Neff Collection