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2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . gentrified P’ansori developed in the nineteenth century to become a favored form of entertainment among royal and aristocratic patrons and audiences. Still outcast, it strove to naturalize its own contradictory existence. The language of p’ansori reveals a unique sociolinguistic construction, “keyed” to entertain social superiors .1 A blend of provincial orality and bookish literacy, the language is strikingly contradictory yet oddly harmonious when sung. In examining the strategies adopted in the evolution of the language of pansori, this chapter departs from a conventional literary perspective to construct the primacy of singers and singing in the revision process. It was in the mid–eighteenth century—when professional folk musicians emerged “from the shadows to which the prejudice of the royal court had con¤nedthem”2 —thatwhatisnowreferred to asp’ansoribecamenoticedandits characteristics commented on. The oldest p’ansori text in writing is the “Song of Ch’unhyang”—one of Korea’s best known narratives about love, separation, and reunion in passionate language—found in Manhwajip, a literary collection composed by Yu Chinhan (1711–1791) under the pen name Manhwaje. In Kajông mun’gyôn nok (Records of family experiences),3 Yu’s son relates how his father experienced the regional culture and arts while stationed in Chôlla province and then returned home to reconstruct in writing, in 1754, “The Song of Ch’unhyang ” with mature plot development and detailed action.4 For recording a literary version of an oral narrative so “prurient,” his son continues, Yu “became the target of slander among his scholarly contemporaries.”5 Kwan’gýk chôlgu shibi-su (Twelve seven-character quatrains on viewing a play, 1826) by Shin Wi (1769–1847) provides a ¤rsthand view of performative acts involving p’ansori. The ¤rst three stanzas depict the setting: erecting a tent on the grounds on a spring day; the drum sound announcing a kwangdae play; village ladies setting aside their sewing to gather outside the fence and peep in. The fourth stanza is particularly intriguing: . . . . . . Gentri¤ed : 57 Ch’unhyang, ¤nished with her makeup, casts an amorous glance, Dressed up, holding a fan, how odd she looks! How is it, that the pale Royal Inspector Yi, Still dominates the show!6 Who could be impersonating Ch’unhyang and Royal Inspector Yi? Are they actors—like a pair of players in a kyogen interlude during a Japanese Noh performance—parodyingthecharactersinp’ansorisinging?Couldtheybesingers role-playing? A close reading of this stanza disturbs the notion that p’ansori had been presented only as a one singer–one drummer performance before the twentieth century. The vivid description of makeup, costumes, and role division suggests a possibility that the interfacing of storytelling and story enacting is a phenomenon much older than the established time of the emergence of ch’anggýk, dramatization of p’ansori, discussed in the following chapter. In the ¤fth stanza, Shin Wi extols the four great singers of his time—Mo Hýnggap (born ca. 1800), Yôm Kyedal (born ca. 1800), Song Hýngnok (born ca. 1790), and Ko Sugwan (born ca. 1800): “Ko, Song, Yôm, Mo, Honam’s [Chôlla] famous kwangdae!”7 Chông Noshik supplements the story:8 Ko, “to whom the Kajin sarangga [Song of All My Love] is credited, was recognized for his improvisational genius” (p. 32). Song, “while lamenting his lover, Maengnyôl’s, parting, unexpectedlycompletedthesorrowfulchinyang”(24).Yôm,“duringhistenyears of discipline in a remote temple would tie his topknot to the ceiling to stay awake (25–26); Mo,” with his tôlmi sori [“nape voice” or “voice resonated in the nape”], was heard ten li away (28). Often referred to as namdosori, “southern provincial singing,” p’ansori strongly represents the sociolinguistic characteristics of its seedbed Chôlla, the “South,” a factor contributing to its stigmatization even as a valorized “treasure.” Yi Chunghwan (1690–1752), with the authority of his ancient geographical survey T’aengni chi (Geomantic guide), proclaims: “When you select a community in which to make your home, you have to take into consideration the mores of that place. . . . Across the eight provinces of our country, the character of the people varies by region. . . . The people of Chôlla have greatrespect for cunning,and one is easily contaminated by that attitude.”9 The world of p’ansori offers a different view. “According to the geomantic reading,” counters Pangja, a native of Chôlla and Mongnyong’s footman in the Song of Ch’unhyang, The mountains of Chôlla are pointed sharply So its...

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