Voices from the Straw Mat: Toward an Ethnography of Korean Story Singing

Introduction to Part One

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . introduction to part one If art is a re¶ection of society, it evolves as society changes. Insofar as the society is “a world in becoming, not a world in being,”1 artistic expression as human social metaphor would at its best be in transformative modes. “Meaning” in narrative artisafunctionof the relationshipbetween the¤ctional world createdby the author and the real, “apprehendable” world, and understanding a narrative is¤nding a satisfactory relationship between the two worlds.2 In every developmental stage before “archetypal” preservation, p’ansori has shown its genius at adaptation. Emerging originally from the fusion of ritual, narrative, and lyrical traditions, and incorporating the ethical, textual, linguistic, and aesthetic preferences of its patrons in the nineteenth century, p’ansori unfolded as a proscenium extravaganza in the twentieth century. Where does p’ansori go from here? In a sense, its designation as a “treasure” in the recent era is the most daunting stunt so far, indulging the cultural and psychological need to reconstruct one’s “traditional heritage.” Beyond strategies of valorization, is there life left in its power of adaptation? Is p’ansori merely camou¶aging itself as an archetypal ¤xture as required by the Zeitgeist? The farcical Song of the Underwater Palace offers a ¤tting metaphor for the survival of this oral tradition against all odds—the hare who survives in the face of overwhelming adversity by feigning dead. While jumping for joy at returning to land unhurt, the hare gets himself caught again, this time in a manmade snare. The hare’s next survival strategy is to invite a swarm of blow¶ies to rest on his back, so thehunter, thinking his game is dead and decomposing, will toss him away. The ¶ies do so, with a warning: (Chajinmori) Listen to the origin of humans, Listen to the origin of humans. A human hand is, When upside down, Heaven, When turned, Earth. . . . . . . 26 : From Straw Mat to Proscenium and Back The lines drawn this way and that way are The traf¤c lines for the sun and the moon. The thumb, enjoined with two knuckles is The trinity of Heaven, Earth, and man, the fundamentals of the universe. The index ¤nger, slighter than the thumb, is The ¤rst, second, third month. The middle ¤nger, the longest, is The fourth, ¤fth, sixth month. The medicine [ring] ¤nger, slighter than the middle ¤nger, is The seventh, eighth, ninth month. The baby ¤nger is short, it is The tenth, eleventh, twelfth month. The four directions are all in the hand, Kôn [south], gam [west], kan [northwest], jin [northeast], Son [southwest], i [east], kon [north], t’ae [southeast],3 Sônch’ôn p’algwae,4 all in here. No matter how clever you are, You’ll never outsmart a single human hand. Save your breath and die. (Chông Kwônjin version) The hare’s strategy, enhanced with timely and potent ¶atulence, works! ...