I remember a few years ago, in the warming spring, the pigs head in the woods. Climbing Inwangsan/인왕산 (san-shin.net/Inwangsan.html) behind Seon-bawi, the “Immortal Rocks” which many devotees believe to be great spirits pressing their way into the world in the form of stone, we came across the head on a hillside, with candle stubs and other signs of the ceremonies that had past. Further on the rocks and and crevices were decorated with etched Hangul and balanced green soju bottles catching the light: the rhythmic sounds of the 장구 drum pushing through the trees from a myriad of tiny busy altars. This was once called White Tiger Mountain for the cats that made their home here— the cats are long gone, but the shamans still call 인왕산 home. In April that year we attended Sansinje, and watched as the Manshin/shamans gathered at Guksadang (국사당), once located on Namsan, then destroyed, and secretly rebuilt here during occupation in 1925, where it has served as a center in Seoul to this day. One Manshin sang a mournful song that went on for as long as we lingered there, sining out the names of those who have passed... a whole telephone book of spirits set in song. And what struck me at the time was how friendly and welcoming the group was: we kept a respectful distance as one would at any temple or church, not wanting to disturb, but were soon approached and offered cup after cup of coffee (every few minutes - defying the physical limits of human liquid absorption) and ushered closer in to see. It seemed part of a beautiful, but fading, section of old Seoul and old Korean culture. Tuesday night, Liora Sarfati, a lecturer at the Department of East Asian Studies of Tel Aviv University, gave a talk (raskb/content/special-summer-lecture-representations-korean-shamanism-media) on the changing representations of shamanism in Korea, and turned a lot of what I though I knew on its head. Though marginalized and depicted from a largely negative, anti-modern perspective in the 70s and even up into the 80s, with Manshin often depicted as almost alien “others,” the last decade has seen a huge resurgence in the popularity of shamanism in popular culture. Sarfati cited a huge number of intriguing examples, from Park Chan-Wook’s (director of Old Boy) Night fishing short film (well worth seeing- youtube/watch?v=2tRlqPQ7dAw), to the TV show Fortune Salon which shows a very modern Manshin, who lives a normal life outside her role, and is very professional and organized- one amusing clips she shared has a couple insulting her while seeking fortune telling advice, and the Manshin stops the ceremony, returns the money and storms out. The secretary of the Manshin chastises the couple with a representative perspective shift, saying, “How dare you talk to a masnhin that way! Don’t you realize they’ve been designated and Important Intangible Cultural Asset in Korea. It’s a 3 billion dollar a year business.” Sarfati shared also a talk show (one among a number) where people with troubles come to have advice given by a Manshin live on air. What was intriguing is one woman breaks down and experienced what Sarfati labeled “television induced sinbyeong”- she broke down on air and was told by the Manshin that she was “chosen by the spirits” herself, and was to become gangsinmu, a Manshin as well. And. She. Did. This intersection of the oldest spiritual roots, the core of where Korea came from, and modern bustling Seoul- this is what draws me so much to the corners in the city, to explore what it is becoming, and what those living her, including myself, are becoming.
Posted on: Thu, 31 Jul 2014 03:00:14 +0000
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