한국국제교류재단

In many ways, “For Nirvana: 108 Zen Sijo Poems” is a paradox. As pointed out by literarycritic Kwon Young-min in the introduction, Musan Cho Oh-hyun’s poems are sijo in form.Unlike the traditional lyric form of poetry, though, they are often narrative in nature so muchthat Kwon coined a new term to describe them: “story sijo.” Thus they are sijo, yet they arenot sijo. Also, as the translator notes in the afterword, “Zen poetry is inherently ironic, asthe basic tenet of Zen is antithetical to text.” That is, Zen Buddhism seeks enlightenmentwithout recourse to words or texts, and thus it might seem odd to combine Zen with poetry.Finally, the book itself is paradoxical in its structure: The 108 poems are bounded by anintroduction written by a critic whose occupation was judged by the poet himself to be a“useless discipline" and an afterword written by a translator who admits that the poems are“almost, by definition, impossible to translate.”

These multiple levels of paradox seem appropriate. The way to understanding thesepoems — an achievement that this reviewer can by no means lay claim to — is not straight,but serpentine. The penultimate poem, “My Lifelines,” hints at this: “poetry is woodgrain,knotted, / & Zen is wood’s grain, straight.” It is only through many twists and turns of themind that progress can be made and the journey will only end when the seeker stops seeking.

When first faced with these poems, the initial instinct is to ask what they mean, to tryto tease out the hidden kernels of wisdom and thus solve the riddles that the poems pose.And, indeed, it appears there are portals leading into the inner sanctum of Musan’s poeticworld. The series of 10 poems titled “Musan’s Ten Bulls” followsthe Zen tradition of using 10 poems or paintings depicting the searchfor and taming of a wild bull as a metaphor for one’s progress towardenlightenment through meditation. Another series of poems writtenin the second person addresses the character of Bodhidharma, thefamous patriarch of Zen in China. Yet another series of poems is titled“Speaking without speaking,” perhaps alluding to the Zen mistrust andsimultaneous recognition of the necessity of language. This ambivalentattitude can be seen throughout the volume, such as in “Waves,” wherethe poet claims, “The 1,000 sutras, the 10,000 treatises, / all just wavesblown in the wind,” or in the final work, where he announces: “Thesewords I’ve spewed ‘til now — they’re all drivel.”

The impatient reader may at times be tempted to take the poet athis word here, for, as noted above, these portals and passages are notstraightforward; the poems do not provide any easy answers. Instead,they function very much like Zen koan (or gong-an in Korean), whichmeans that there are no “answers” and there is no final destination.There is only a process of discovery. Patience here is a virtue, for themore time one spends with these poems, the more they seem to reveal,not merely about the Zen philosophy of the one who wrote them, butabout the inner nature of the one who reads them as well. To simplyread this collection of poems takes less than an hour. To gain all thatmight be gained from them would no doubt be the work of a lifetime.And yet, as the poet says: “one lifetime / barely as much as a single step/ go on, go on / just walking in place.”

The five-volume history book, as suggested by the title, is writtenin the format of a series of some 70 letters. Each chapter starts withabout three to four paragraphs of friendly chit-chat kind of writingthat poses questions and invites the reader to join the author in discoveringthe answers and exploring history.

While it may seem like a daunting task for young readers to finishthe entire series, the simple language and vocabulary make fora not-altogether-difficult read. Also helpful are the numerous illustrations,maps, and diagrams that accompany the texts. They areuseful in understanding the various periods in history, as well asvisualizing the lifestyles of respective periods.

The five volumes are titled “From prehistory to Unified Silla andBalhae,” “From the Later Three Kingdoms to Goryeo,” “Joseonfrom founding to later years,” “From late Joseon to the DaehanEmpire,” and “From the Daehan Empire to the North-South rapprochement.”In these ambitious volumes, the author attemptsto chronicle the history of what occurred on the Korean peninsulafrom the Paleolithic Age (circa 700,000 B.C.) to 2000 in one fellswoop.

Unless the reader is a young history buff, some of the chaptersmight be of little interest. Indeed, some of the details might not be easily appreciated whenKorean words are presentedin their Romanizedforms.

Yet, because the seriesis written in a narrativestyle using easy vocabulary,reading about life inthe Three Kingdoms periodis made fun. The use ofancient murals, paintings,and artifacts to illustratethe lifestyle of the peopleof Silla, Baekje, and Goguryeomake history come alive.

The book may be enjoyed as individual chapters. They are rich instorytelling and for the uninitiated, chapters that focus on historicalfigures make for an interesting reading on their own.For example,the story of Korea’s first Olympic medalist Sohn Kee-chung, themarathoner who won the gold at the 1936 Berlin Olympics, is told inthe context of Japan’s colonial rule of Korea.

The author chose to end the book in the year 2000 with the topicof the “June 15 North-South Joint Declaration.” Hence the title ofthe fifth and final volume “From the Daehan Empire to North-Southrapprochement.” It is a positive and forward-looking finale to a longjourney of history of the Korean peninsula.

Geomungo, a Korean six- zither, is the star of “MaskDance,” the latest album by the four-member band Black .

The fact that the band is named Black , a literal translationof the word geomungo, is indicative of the central role of the ancientinstrument, dating back to the 7th century, in the band. Heo Yoonjeong(geomungo), Lee Aram (daegeum, transverse bamboo flute),Hwang Min-wang (janggu, double-headed drum), and Oh Jean(electric guitar) make up the four-piece band that primarily performsjazz.

While traditional musical instruments and modern day jazz atfirst seem counterintuitive, the pairing is actually an excellent onegiven the characteristics of Korean traditional music.

Traditional Korean music is noted for its freewheeling, improvisationalstyle. Just think about pansori, a form of narrative singingaccompanied by a drum, and its free-spirited improvisational character.In Korean folk music, although there are specific beat patterns,even a casual listener will notice that there is a lot of improvisation going on during a performance.

“Mask Dance” is a tour de force. Any preconceptions about Asianmusic will be dispelled at once. It is not the New Age-type of etherealmeditative music that many associate with Asian music.

With the geomungo functioning more as a percussion than a instrument, “Mask Dance” on the whole is dark and powerful.The electric guitar lends a sharp metallic sound to the music fora slightly psychedelic mood. The thick silk s of the geomungoare struck with a wooden stick to produce the characteristic deeptimbre.

It is a decidedly masculine sound: Indeed, the geomungowas known as the instrument of the seonbi, or literati.

How to define the musicof Blackis entirelyup to the listener. Butone thing it should not belabeled as is “crossovermusic.” Black ’smusic explores the realmwhere traditional Koreaninstruments and music areheaded.