A Chinese Traveler in Medieval Korea: Xu Jing’s Illustrated Account of the Xuanhe Embassy to Koryŏ trans. by Sem Vermeersch

In an informative and erudite introduction to Xu Jing’s Illustrated Account of the Xuanhe Embassy to Koryŏ (Kaoli tujing), Sem Vermeersch first identifies and discusses the various extant texts of Kaoli tujing available to translators and then examines the historical context of Xu Yujing’s mission in relation to the Liao, Jin and Song states and Koryŏ’s vassal state relationship with Song. This is followed by further contextualizing that provides a helpful overview of the travelogue tradition in China to which Kaoli tujing belongs. Vermeersch duly notes Xu Yujing’s tendency to approve of all things emulating China while being disdainful of Koryŏ’s native traditions such as mixed-sex bathing in the summer. Nevertheless, despite Xu Yujing’s biases, Vermeersch emphasizes the work’s value as a source that complements the Koryŏsa (History of Koryŏ), while cautioning that Koryŏ officials appear to have deliberately given Xu an impression that Koryŏ was emulating China and that there was an intention by the Chinese embassy’s Koryŏ guides to flatter the former’s sense of China’s mission civilatrice so that not all the information in Xu’s account should be taken at face value.

The translation itself begins with Xu Jing’s preface, in which Xu acknowledges that Wang Yun’s Monograph on Kyerim (Jilin shi), which is no longer extant, provided a template for his own work. This preface addressed to Emperor Huizong is followed by a historical overview of the founding of Koryŏ, tracing its origins to “King Wu of Zhou’s enfeoffment of Kija” (63) and tracing it through a chronological account of Koguryŏ (referred to simply as Koryŏ) with only passing references to Silla and Paekche. In the following chapter this account of Koguryŏ history culminates in Wang Kŏn’s accession to the throne. Xu then provides a chronological account of the Wang dynasty until Wang Hae (Injong), who was king at the time of Xu’s embassy to Koryŏ. This section, as might be expected, also emphasizes the loyalty of the Koryŏ royal family to the successive Chinese emperors.

Chapter 3 contains Xu’s description of the borders, topography, and capital of Koryŏ, pointing out the importance of the Amnok River to the northern defenses of the country, the Koryŏ people’s literacy, interest in geomancy, and indulgence in the “heterodox worship of spirits” (77). There is also information on trade and Koryŏ’s use of cloth and silver ingots for large purchases and rice for less expensive items. Xu comments, “The people have long been at ease with this custom and find it convenient” (78). This chapter concludes with a short account of the local administrative divisions and mentions that taxation is not sufficient to support the government and consequently it “looks to rich people for donations” (79).

Chapters 4 to 6 deal with the architecture of the gates and halls of Kaesong. While Xu acknowledges that the Koryŏ capital’s system of “prominent gates” emulates that of “the feudal lords of old,” he nevertheless disparages them as pedestrian imitations of the Chinese originals (80). On the other hand the palace buildings with their “square roofs and rows of flying rafters colorfully decorated with red and blue” gave Xu “a vast and lofty feeling” (83). The highlight of chapter 6 is the account—copied from a palace record by Xu—of a royal banquet in Ch’ŏngyŏn Pavilion, characterized by the heavy but ceremonious drinking that still prevails in Korean society today.

Chapter 7 provides an account of the garments worn by the Koryŏ king and his officials and is followed by a chapter on “famous people,” which includes a surprisingly forthright description of the notoriously corrupt Koryŏ official and royal in-law Yi Ch’agyŏm, who Xu writes, “believes in slander and covets profits. . . . Because of this all the people in the country despise him. What a shame!” (102). Kim Pusik, the compiler of Samguk sagi and nemesis of Myoch’ŏng, on the other hand is the recipient of Xu’s admiration as someone who “possesses broad learning and vast knowledge and is good at composition; he knows about present and past and instills trust and confidence in fellow scholars; there is nobody who can match him” (103).

Chapters 9 and 10 deal with ceremonial paraphernalia such as fans, parasols, banners and halberds. These are followed by three chapters on Koryŏ’s guards, armies and weapons that should be of considerable interest to military historians. Xu, however, does not appear to have been impressed by Koryŏ’s displays of martial prowess, “if by chance there are a few able soldiers [among them], they hurry to show them off to people. How risible this is” (116). Koryŏ weaponry also fails to impress, being described as “rough and simple,” although Xu suggests that this is because the Koryŏ people’s “natural disposition is meek and compliant; they are thus not like the western rong barbarians, who love arms” (118).

These chapters are followed by chapters on flags, horses and carts, officials and offices, shrines and temples, and Taoism and Buddhism. Concerning official titles, Xu laments that although Koryŏ had by and large adopted Chinese titles, “the title and reality do not match; the titles are only used for window dressing because they sound impressive” (127). Concerning punishments, Xu concludes, “the barbarians are humane in nature, and capital punishment is often pardoned; instead [the convicted] are banished to mountains and islands” (132). In the chapter on Buddhist shrines and temples, Vermeersch has also provided helpful English translations of their Korean names. The chapter on Taoism and Buddhism suggests that Taoism was not an insignificant force in the Buddhist state of Koryŏ, although as Taoism had its origins in China, it is likely that Xu may have exaggerated its relative importance, especially as he was clearly prejudiced against Buddhism, referring to it as “barbarian teachings” (141).

It is in the opening lines of chapter 19 on the common people that Xu’s most famous observation on the people of Koryŏ is found, “among the professions of the four classes of people, Confucian scholars are considered the most precious. Therefore, in their country it is considered shameful if you don’t know how to write” (145). Nevertheless, this praise is soon counterbalanced with censure of Koryŏ’s moral standards, “men and women marry easily, but unions are easily dissolved. Their ignorance of law and propriety is truly laughable” (145). This chapter is followed by chapters on women and on official servants. Xu’s observations on Koryŏ women focus almost exclusively on their way of dressing with some comments on how they carry burdens on their heads and children on their backs.

Chapters 22 and 23 are filled with observations of Koryŏ customs from burial practices to bathing habits, about which Xu writes, “they always laugh about how dirty the Chinese are. When they get up in the morning they have to wash before going out the door. In the summer months they bathe again during the day” (159). These comments are followed by further observations on agriculture, fishing and local products. Here and elsewhere in the text one is struck by how many Korean customs in Koryŏ times are still recognizable in the present day, from the aforementioned custom of babies being carried on women’s backs and burdens on their heads—although the latter custom appears to have almost died out—to Koreans’ predilection for all manner of seafood.

Chapters 24 to 27 deal with the pageantry attending the arrival of the Chinese embassy, vividly portraying the way in which the relationship between Song and Koryŏ was affirmed through ceremonial expressions of benevolent paternalism on the part of the former and filial acquiescence on the part of the latter. Nevertheless, here and elsewhere in the text, whenever there is a suggestion of Koryŏ’s latent military capability in the ceremonies, Xu is quick to express his disdain, “next came the colonels in charge of the army… They use tinkling bells to decorate their horse fittings and gallop along at breakneck speed in a conceited show-offy fashion” (164). These chapters include accounts of Injong’s receipt of the imperial edict, banquets held in honor of the Song envoys, the ceremonial departure of the embassy from Kaesŏng and the embassy’s quarters, the Sunch’ŏn Hostel, which according to Xu was “more luxurious than the residence of their king” (180).

Chapters 28 to 32 focus on various Koryŏ artifacts from tents, mats and screens to all kinds of metal and ceramic utensils and vessels, which conjure up a vivid image of Koryŏ’s aristocratic culture and should be of particular interest to art historians. As is the case throughout Xu’s account, everything is described in meticulous detail. To accompany these chapters, Vermeersch provides photo illustrations of a silver-gilt stem cup with saucer and a celadon lion-shaped incense burner in the National Museum of Korea that perfectly match Xu’s description of these items in the text. Of the latter artifact Xu writes admiringly, “Of all the pieces, this one is the most sublime” (200).

Chapters 35 to 39 deal with shipping and sea lanes. After a rather disparaging description of Koryŏ ship building, “I have observed that their ships are very simple, lacking an advanced level of manufacture” (203), Xu continues with a description of the main types of ships he encountered on his arrival in Koryŏ. In the subsequent chapters he begins by speculating on the nature of tides and the formation of islands before providing a vivid account of the envoy’s ships and the perilous voyage they embarked on from Mingzhou to Kaesŏng’s Yesŏng Harbor. From this account it appears that the envoys were particularly prone to seasickness, “our guts and stomach also rose and fell, and gasping for air we barely managed to stay alive. We fell down and vomited and could not swallow even a grain of food” (218).

In chapter 40 Xu summarizes those aspects of Koryŏ culture that were based directly on Chinese culture, namely, the calendar, Confucianism, music, and weights and measures. Xu laments that Koryŏ still does not use the “correct calendar” but recognizes that this was because of the coercion of the Khitan and Jurchen. In terms of Koryŏ’s wholehearted adoption of Confucianism and literary Sinitic, however, Xu is unstinting in his praise, “therefore, in the beauty of their culture and its products, they are on a par with the suzerain country!” (239). He is less fulsome in his praise of Koryŏ’s examination system, however, deriding it for failing to include an essay question on politics and denigrating Koryŏ scholars for their inept compositions, which he likens to “the remaining dregs of the Tang [way of composition]” (241). Concerning music, Xu identifies two main forms, namely, Tangak based on Chinese music and indigenous music Hyangak along with an additional form identified as ‘lower music’ performed by female entertainers. Xu laments that because King Injong was still in mourning, the musicians refrained from playing their instruments and so he was unable to experience any musical performances during his stay in Koryŏ. In the final chapter Xu states his happiness in reporting to the emperor that “there was not even the slightest difference” between Chinese and Korean weights and measures thus demonstrating Koryŏ’s sincere respect for its Chinese suzerain (245).

The Illustrated Account of the Xuanhe Embassy to Koryŏ concludes with some biographical information about its author written by Zhang Xiabao, praising Xu Jing’s sagacity as a public official and his service to Emperor Huizong through his participation in the embassy to Koryŏ. The rest of the biography somewhat predictably portrays Xu as a Confucian/Taoist superman, incorruptible, generous to a fault, unsurpassed in literary composition, calligraphy and painting, adept in music, able to hold his liquor, and yet humble with it, “therefore, wherever he went, everybody always loved him, even when he went to barbarian countries” (251). The work closes with a postscript recounting how Xu’s account of his embassy to Koryŏ had been temporarily lost and had then finally been printed as a wood block printed book at Qiandao in 1167 by Xu’s nephew Xu Chan. The translated text is supplemented by an appendix of dynastic lineages, copious endnotes, a bibliography, and an index.

In his outstanding annotated translation Vermeersch has set a high standard for the translation of classical texts on Korea. The translation itself is lucid and eminently readable and supported by a wealth of scholarship on the Koryŏ and Song dynasties. Vermeersch is to be applauded for his unstinting labors in bringing this important text to a wider readership, and it is to be hoped that his work will encourage other scholars to engage in similarly valuable endeavors that are so substantially helpful in developing the field of Korean historical studies outside Korea. This work is a must have for any serious scholar of Korean history and indispensable for those specializing in the Koryŏ period.