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Memories of Poet Seo Jeong-ju
-Oh Tae-gyu novelist
--When I read ¡°Kim Dong-ri--And Me¡±, novelist Jeong Jong-myeong, I always remembered poet Seo Jeong-ju. Why do you think of Midang every time? But it was natural to think about it a little. Seo Jeong-ju, along with Kim Dong-ri, led Korean literature and was the godfather of Korean literature that produced numerous literary men. The two people were the center of it, and the first dong-in, ¡°Poet Village,¡± was launched at the Boan Inn in Tongui-dong. Memories of poet Seo Jeong-ju came in.--
This is an inscription written by Seo Jeong-ju of Midang on the 1st anniversary of Kim Dong-ri's death in 1996.
¡°It¡¯s the biggest greedy among Korean literary men who can¡¯t endure anything but the best, the one among those who suffered a rash in front of the pretty things, and a strangely beautiful rainbow that emerged in the closed island after the fall of Silla.¡±
In the spring of the year Midang passed away (2000), I visited the home of Namhyun-dong Midang with her wife. When I faced Hamja, a master of Midang, who I would know soon, told me not to visit. When Yangju greeted us in that humble home, I seemed to know the reason why the senior held our visit back. The inside of the house was like a dark cave, and even in the brightly lit master room, except for the part where the desk was placed, blankets were laid to prevent the chill.
His wife was sitting on the blanket laid away from a distance. When I brought a drink to a home like this, I cried out in tears. As I was drinking beer with a snack of octopus, I kept crying inside. This shabby Namhyun-dong Midang house was the birthplace of masterpieces, so to speak, where the country's top poet lives.
As time passed on that day, and the tense atmosphere became so soft after drinking beer, I was able to quickly realize why I was taboo against Midang's visit. My wife, who was in attendance, left mainly to take pictures, and only me, she sat face to face with Midang and shared the purpose of the visit.
¡°On March 21, 2000, when the first spring day arrives in the northern hemisphere, the 1st poetry recital was held in commemoration of the proclamation of UNESCO World Poetry Day, co-hosted by the Korean Commission for UNESCO and the Culture Daily. It was supervised by Poet Jo Jung-ae, and I became the chairman. Please come and say congratulations and recite your attempts. I'm begging you."
They showed special interest and asked the invited poets.
¡°I invited poets Cho Byeong-hwa, Koo Sang, and Ko Eun. Pen Club Kim Si-cheol, Korean Cultural Association Seong Chun-bok, and Jeong Gong-chae Min-young, Hwang Myung-geol, Jung Hee-seong, Cho Byeong-moo, Kim Ji-hyang, Kim Hu-ran, Yu An-jin, Jo Jung-ae, Na Hee-deok. We invited evenly from the Korean city cooperatives such as Yun Kang-ro and the modern city cooperatives. I would like to hold it as a pan-paragraph event.¡±
When she was feeling better, her wife specifically ordered her beauty party to recite a piece of her poem. It was intended to record poetry recitations just in case. Midang recited ¡°Dongcheon¡± twice in a thick, sticking voice. But what she liked was that far.
¡°What will Ko-eun come and do?¡±
¡°We will recite'Guwolsan' and'Hwagae Marketplace'. I will also say good things.¡±
In a moment, a dark light passed through his eyes. Something was terribly unpleasant. And suddenly, ¡°Did you say Park Ji-won is also coming? Why call someone like that¡±
I shook my hand without knowing, and hurriedly answered.
¡°No, I¡¯m the Minister of Culture, and I¡¯m supposed to recite Park Yong-cheol¡¯s ¡°Leaving Ship¡± and give a congratulatory speech.¡±
¡°It¡¯s not the regret of Kim Dae-jung¡±
He said in a loud voice. His appearance was gradually changing.
When he looked at it closely, the light of Midang was on the verge of being wary of something and anxious. I did. Despite the achievements, fame, and prestige of the literary giant, the 85-year-old Midang, was trembling with fear at the edge of a dead end, on the threshold of the coming death, suspicious, terrified, and helpless. He was just an old man without him. From his erratic behavior I could glimpse what he was stirring.
¡°Look, you know? Queen Elizabeth invited me. She intends to go live in England.¡±
She said she would suddenly emigrate to England. Even if I didn't know how to leave my homeland at that age, or the United States with a son, I was amazed. She said she still had a country she called because she liked it, and that the Queen of England invited her, he said in a very proud manner. At first glance, he seemed to be begging people not to reproach and hate them too much. It was evident in the twilight of his life that he was suffering from extreme delusions and qualifications. It wasn't until later, but it was true that I was invited.
During the conversation, he received calls that were repeatedly filtered. It was like an invitation to a lecture.
"What's up again, well I know, it was March 21st, I will definitely go."
The 21st is the day when our poetry recital is held. I was amazed and reminded the date again,
¡°Huh, huh, won¡¯t you call me more? What time is the poetry recital?¡±
It was only then that he had confirmed attendance at the poetry recital. But I feel good, so I'm talking about this and that. At the moment, the worst happened.
I said inadvertently. Her wife was poised to record.
¡°Please give me some historical data, and if you have something to say at this opportunity, please.¡±
¡°What material? And what are you saying?¡±
He raised his voice. I was surprised.
He overreacted to words like ¡°past data¡± and ¡°what to say¡±. Instantly, it was clear that something like his pro-Japanese poem and Chun Doo-hwan's song came to his mind.
Hundreds of planes/cannons and explosives/carrying a yellow-haired worm-like soldier//the enemy British-American aircraft carrier/who came to steal our sweat and lives/was awakened by striking you/your body?/breaking and breaking Are you broken as well? --Song Jeong-oh-jang in Songga.
Here, ¡°Soldier¡± is the British-American Allied Army, and ¡°You¡± is the Korean Kamikaze Insa-woong.
For the first time, the one who made the Han River wide, deep, and clear. --Chun Doo-hwan's 56th birthday ode
He raised Chun Doo-Hwan's 4.13 reassurance measures as ¡°decision to save his country,¡± and when he saw Chun Doo-hwan¡¯s smile, he praised ¡°Mireuk¡¯s smile who will save the world¡±.
Suddenly he began to growl.
¡°What are you saying?¡±
After doing this, he pulled out US President Clinton out of nowhere and began to swear words violently.
¡°A young guy can't be so cocky and mean. He's what he is and he's bothering us. How can you treat Kim Young-sam so much? He is like a bad and immoral guy in the world! The more I think about it, the more I cut my teeth.¡±
It was completely gibberish. It was ¡®the sound of the beating while sleeping.¡¯ It was ridiculous indeed. It seems that he is criticizing the attitude the US had over the opening of the Korean rice market, but I couldn't figure out why he was pouring so swearing on Clinton. Split personality? He suddenly became a skier. He was alas, he was like a bruised, growling beast in a dark cave.
Then the signal came from his wife, who was sitting far away. Her wife lifted her other hand up several times, holding her finger still to her lips. It was a sign to finish quietly and leave. She was aware of the sign of her husband, whose wife was beating her. We fervently asked to attend once again, and then hurriedly left Namhyun-dong's Midang's house. As expected, Midang did not appear at the poetry reciting, and his ¡°nurture recording¡± recited ¡°Dongcheon¡± instead.
Nine months later, on Christmas Eve 2000, Midang passed away. In October 2000, when her wife, Mrs. Bang Ok-suk died, she was shocked and collapsed. She refused to be a gogger, wore an oxygen respirator, was transparent, and died on December 24th without leaving her will.
A month before his death, when he appeared on TV in November and was asked about his pro-Japanese activities, he said, ¡°Well, look carefully.¡± She did and she finally refused her apology. Even after his death, hot controversy continues over his pro-Japanese literature and pro-Jeon Doo-Hwan activities. His poems have been expelled from Korean language textbooks, and the Midang Literature Award is on the verge of existence. If so, how will I prematurely kill Midang's poetry and literary awards? Actually, I want to replace my conclusions by talking about what I thought and felt.
One fall day in 2000, I had been to the Dongin Literature Awards ceremony hosted by the Chosun Ilbo. Lee Moon-gu received the award that Hwang Seok-young kicked as the Pro-Japanese Literature Award. The moment I saw Lee Mun-gu's face distorted by anguish, I was shocked. His ¡°Kwanchon Essay¡± was weeping in front of his eyes. How sensitive and humble you are to me. ¡°What a crime is the reward,¡± I groaned without knowing. That night, my wife and I went to the Hyehwa-dong Rotary to visit the poets, passing the stone wall road in Changgyeonggung Palace, where the moonlight was particularly fluctuating. I met Min-young, Kim Ji-hyang, and poet Yun Gang-ro and drank all night long to heal my depressed heart.
Strangely, Midang's poems came to mind every time I went to Seosijeong, Yun Dong-ju, which is a short distance from my house. I love Seo-si and Yun Dong-ju's poems very much, but somehow his poetic achievement was considered to be one number below Midang. Why shouldn't he like Midang's poems? I felt an indescribably sad, strange conflict. His lyrical poetry was ugly, savory, lively, flirtatious, confident, raw, bright, beautiful, and I suddenly felt thirsty because I missed his lyric poetry and my native language. So my head and heart were always colliding. His head was selling his poetry one hundred times that he could never forgive an opportunist, but his heart continued to love his poems, as the spirit of emotion rising from the deep. I did. Seo Jeong-ju, but I was missing him at all.