Yom Sang-seop - Three Generations

“Let’s get acquainted first,” said Byeong-hwa as if it had just occurred to him.

“You’re too kind. I’m Won-sam.” The manservant made a bow.

“I’m Kim Byeong-hwa. But you don’t have a surname. Or is Won your surname?”

The proprietor smiled to himself as he listened to their conversation. He had found them entertaining since they’d come in, for the Western-suited man had his overcoat folded up despite the cold weather, and the two kept pushing it back and forth, each insisting the other should wear it.

“My surname is also Kim. You can see where I am now, but I’m a Kim of Cheongpung,” said Won-sam. His resentment had melted away after drinking a few rounds.

“We’re of the same clan, then. But what do you mean by ‘where you are now’? What’s wrong with that, and what’s it got to do with being a Cheongpung Kim?”

“I mean that I’m working in someone’s servants’ quarters, and I have no learning. I’m ignorant.”

“When you’re poor, you don’t know how to read, and when you don’t know how to read, you remain ignorant. Although being a Kim of Cheongpung is nothing to boast about, it’s not shameful to be ignorant. You live in someone’s servants’ quarters, but you make a living by selling your services. What’s wrong with that? It would be different if you didn’t work and idled your time away.” Though he wasn’t saying anything profound, Byeong-hwa spoke firmly as if he were giving a lecture.

Won-sam was grateful for Byeong-hwa’s kind tone, more than he was for what he actually said. “That’s right, but. ” He wanted to say something more, but he didn’t know how to express his feelings.

“If you’re concerned about your ignorance, I’ll teach you. The old saying that one can learn how to read at the age of forty still applies today.”

“That’s only a saying. What can I achieve at my age? I manage to write my own name, and I’ll grow old the way I am, but like any parent, I wish I could give my kid an education.”

“You’re right. As long as you know how to write your own name. ”

“I learned up to book three of Beginning Readers when I was a boy, but what could still be in my head after I’ve lived like this for more than twenty years? I barely avoided being a complete illiterate.” His words were a mixture of pride and lament.

“Then there’s nothing to worry about. You know how to read, so next time I see you, I’ll bring you some books. Are the Four Books and the Three Classics the only subjects of study? When you read books and magazines in your free time, your knowledge grows. You should know what’s going on in the world, too, to teach your child, right?”

“That’s so,” Won-sam answered halfheartedly, because Byeong-hwa had shifted the direction of their conversation. He had wanted to boast that until his father’s generation his family had produced some respected scholars.

“My real name is not Won-sam. My real name conforms to the family generational rule, but after we moved to Seoul and I fell to where I am now, I cut off ties with my relatives and lived apart from them.” He still was looking for a way to speak of his respectable roots.

“You’re talking about Cheongpung Kim again? You have a name by which people can call you. Names are not for genealogy books.” Byeong-hwa spoke sharply, as if he were sick and tired of listening to such talk. All the same, he thought it odd but understandable that the son of a respectable family could have fallen so low that he now assumed the accent of a servant in his speech.

Byeong-hwa didn’t think such a man would become his comrade, and he didn’t want to draw him into his group, but it would satisfy him if the manservant came to acquire proletariat consciousness and communicated it to his friends. Then their children would be influenced, and Byeong-hwa could find real workers among this younger generation. He had a relatively grand vision. Instead of putting forth an infirm donkey because the situation was urgent and starving the donkey’s offspring as a result, Byeong-hwa thought it more important to consider the offspring. He would be satisfied with influencing a father to raise his children well. This was one reason why Byeong-hwa was friendly with so many people working in the shops along the street.

Now that his first task was taken care of, Byeong-hwa decided to go on to the second one: finding out what Gyeong-ae had asked him.

Byeong-hwa took out the letter and asked a series of questions. At first, Won-sam just grinned, but he eventually told him everything he knew, partly because he had grown tipsy and partly because he wanted to repay Byeong-hwa’s kindness. Besides, like most servants, he wanted to speak ill of his master.

“I think she’s a concubine. Yesterday, I went to ____ Kindergarten to deliver her monthly payment and get this letter, but I still don’t know where the lady lives.”

“Why do you think she’s a concubine?”

“One time, I took a letter to a house behind the detached palace at Anguk-dong, but the house didn’t look like a regular house, and it didn’t look like the lady’s house either. I wasn’t completely sure.”

“What kind of a house was it?”

“Well, it looked like a house where someone’s concubine lives or a drinking salon. The mistress was middle-aged, and there were many young women.”

“Then it must be a bar or a whorehouse.”

“It didn’t look like one. But then, the guests were drinking.”

Won-sam didn’t know the address, but he gave Byeong-hwa detailed directions. He thought that “the place” the woman referred to in her letter was this very house.

“When you are sent out to deliver a letter again, will you let me know?”

“Sure I will. Just tell me where you live.” Won-sam’s mouth dropped open when he heard that Byeong-hwa lived outside Saemun.

“I’ll give you drinking money, of course. Please just let me know.” Byeong-hwa was hesitant to even make such a request, for he would look like a man who had nothing better to do, but he thought he’d better look into the matter quickly to gain Gyeong-ae’s favor and to help her shake off Sang-hun.

That morning, Byeong-hwa went to see Kim Ui-gyeong at____ Kindergarten. He wanted to find out who she was, and it happened to be on his way downtown from his boardinghouse. He also enjoyed watching the children play whenever he had some spare time. As soon as he entered the school, however, he remembered it was a holiday.

Too bad I couldn’t catch a glimpse of the bitch who plays with other people’s angelic children and then sneaks into an unsavory house in Anguk-dong , Byeong-hwa thought. As he left, he came across an old man holding a tote bag that looked like it contained a Bible. He appeared to be a church guard because he had emerged from what looked like the servants’ quarters next to the gate.

“Where does the teacher Kim Ui-gyeong live?” Byeong-hwa asked.

“Why do you want to know?” The old man looked Byeong-hwa up and down, and said, “If you need to see her, follow me to the church.”

“I have no time for that. I just need to deliver a message to her house.”

The old man told him that the church was around the corner and that Byeong-hwa should ask the lady herself. He probably didn’t know where she lived.

Byeong-hwa followed the old man. At the church, it looked like Sunday school was in session.

Byeong-hwa was waiting outside when the old man came out of the building behind a wisp of a woman wearing gold-rimmed glasses. Everything about her was tiny, particularly her waist, and her hands and feet were as small as a child’s. Her eyes, which resembled a Western doll’s, bulged out, but her face was reminiscent of a beauty in Chinese paintings. Her cheeks were transparent; if pressed slightly, the flesh under them might get crushed. To Byeong-hwa, she looked like a girl of about fifteen or sixteen, but by the way she addressed him, he knew she was much older than she appeared.