Sunday, May 02, 2021

The life of Frank Schofield and 1974 RAS parodies

For my latest Korea Times article, I looked at the life, death, and burial of Canadian missionary and "eternal Korean" Frank Schofield, who was the only foreigner to be told of the Samil Independence Movement of 1919 before it happened, allowing him to be ready to take most of the photos associated with it that we know of today. While that part of his life is quite well known (along with his being recalled home in 1920 due to his pro-independence activism), I also looked at his experiences in Korea after he returned in 1958 and criticized his former friend Syngman Rhee's autocratic rule, celebrated the April 19, 1960 student revolution that overthrew Rhee, and supported orphans and poor students until his death in 1970. 

Not mentioned in the article is that Schofield spent his time in Canada (1920-58) teaching at the Ontario Veterinary College, which ultimately developed into my alma mater, the University of Guelph. Much like in 1919 when he wrote sarcastic letters to the Seoul Press criticizing Japan's policies, in Guelph in the 1940s he wrote a letter to the Guelph Mercury criticizing his superiors at OCV for not hiring his maid's daughter for a secretary position due to her skin colour. It seems no matter where he was, he liked to write sarcastic letters targeting people in power. 

A few other posts I've written deal with the Samil Movement; the first features many photos Schofield took:

Unseen photos of the Samil movement, 1919

The battle for American perceptions of the Samil Movement

Lawmaker criticizes textbooks for correctly describing the violence of the Samil protests

A few of Schofield's photos are also on display in this article about him I wrote years ago on behalf of the Royal Asiatic Society at the official Korean government website... an article that basically ended the RAS's relationship with that site because they were so offended by what I wrote. Was this because Park Geun-hye's propagandists didn't like a foreigner being highlighted in an article about a Korean independence movement? I really don't know.

Speaking of the RAS, another article I wrote for the Korea Times is an April Fools-esque romp through a parody of RAS tours written by James Wade in 1974. I’d first come across it in Wade’s 1975 book ‘West meets East’ years ago, but after it was suggested I find the original ‘Scouting the City’ Korea Times column, I discovered a reference in it to ‘Corny’s art scavengers.’ 

I then remembered a serendipitous email exchange from 8 years ago with Angie Huse, who lived in Seoul in the early 1980s, in which she mentioned Cornie Choy and the ‘Korea Art Club’ he ran. Though mention of it makes up only a small part of my article, Angie connected me with Cornie and it turns out he's one of those larger-than-life people who is not only happy to share memories of the past but does so with panache and humour. I'll be writing about him again, no doubt.

Some more links:

The oldest colour footage from Korea, taken circa 1938 by Swedish diplomat Tor H. Wistrand, appears in his film of China and Korea here. The Korean section is at the end and begins at 25:45. (Hat tip to JiHoon Suk.)

 A history of Korea's gangsters going back to the colonial period can be seen on youtube here.

Wednesday, February 24, 2021

Building Korea's first expressways, 1968-70

My latest article for the Korea Times is about the building of Korea's first expressways (between Seoul and Incheon and Seoul and Busan) between 1968 and 1970, as well as some of the side effects the expressway created.  

After watching Adam Curtis' new documentary explaining how we reached a point where politicians lack of any kind vision for the future, I'll admit to being impressed by Park Chung-hee's rhetoric that advanced the belief that Koreans could build a strong, successful country (which, as Carter Eckert noted, even Kim Dae-jung conceded had helped instill confidence in people).

One thing I couldn't help but notice was the fact that the first two expressways, from Seoul to Incheon and Busan, echoed the first two railways in Korea... from Seoul to Incheon and Busan.

Below are a few more photos I came across that didn't make it into the article.

Seoul-Incheon Expressway under construction, May 19, 1968.

One highway I didn't cover was the Samil Elevated Expressway, which opened March 22, 1969 and ran above Cheonggyecheon from Myeong-dong to Sinseol-dong in its first section.

This was the Sinseol-dong end of the expressway.

July 7, 1970 ad for buses that would travel on the newly-completed expressway to Busan. That' interesting logo.

July 8, 1970 photo of crowds in Daegu celebrating the completion of the expressway.

July 7, 1970 photo of the 경부고속도로 순직자 위령탑, a monument to the workers who died.

August 23, 1970 cartoon published after a horrific bus accident killed 25 people.

The back cover of the September 9, 1970 issue of Weekly Kyonghyang, featuring a car ad for the Corona '70 showing the new expressway.

Tuesday, February 09, 2021

"The Man Standing Next" is Korea's 2021 Oscars submission?

UPI reports on Korea's submission to the Oscars for this year: "The Man Standing Next" (남산의 부장들), which, as the Korea Herald put it before its release early last year, "offers what its creators say is a faithful depiction of the 40 days leading up to [president Park Chung-hee's] death." The film even ends by explaining the fallout from Park's assassination as historical photos are shown, and has the sound of what is presumably the real Kim Jae-gyu speaking at his trial.

I found it hard to judge the film on its merits as entertainment because as a depiction of history it's terrible beyond belief. It basically takes historical events from throughout the latter half of the 1970s (particularly Koreagate, as well as US electronic surveillance of the Blue House and the murder of former KCIA head Kim Hyung-wook in Paris) and pretends they happened in the 40 days before Park's murder in order to weave a false narrative arguing that the US ordered Park's death. There is a scene in which the US ambassador (who looks nothing like William Gleysteen) practically orders Kim Jae-gyu to take Park out:

US Ambassador: “You leave me with no choice but to withdraw the U.S. troops from Korea. What will you do then?” 
KCIA head Kim: “Then what!? What is that you want from me!?” 
US Ambassador: “Prepare for the next step. Before we have to intervene. Park is finished.”

I guess this scene works if we forget that practically no one in the US government, other than President Carter and a few people surrounding him, agreed with his plan to withdraw troops from Korea. As well, the idea that the ambassador has the power to unilaterally pull the troops out is laughable. (And let's not go into how this unfolds like so many post-2000 Korean "historical" films in which Koreans are portrayed as having no agency and are only victims of outside powers or bystanders as history washes over them.) I honestly felt stupider every moment I watched this movie. It was like sitting through a film about the US Civil War in which the British ambassador, wanting a steady supply of cheap cotton, orders John Wilkes Booth to kill President Lincoln: "Don't make me order the Hessians to do it."

The story of Park's assassination was also told in the film "President's Last Bang" (그때 그사람들) in 2005. Years ago the Chosun Ilbo had Cho Gap-je's biography of Park Chung-hee, "Spit on my grave," serialized in translation on their English site, and he based the sections about Park's assassination on the court records, if I recall correctly, and the events depicted in 'President's Last Bang' hewed very closely to what was in "Spit on my grave," but with more of a satirical edge to them. In fact, the film's director, Im Sang-soo, even said he used those court records, but added that he was a better storyteller than the judge. "The Man Standing Next," with its compression of time and angry American Ambassador ordering assassinations, is a fantasy in comparison. 

Mind you, in former Ambassador William H. Gleysteen's chapter "Korea: A Special Target of American Concern" (in the book The Diplomacy of Human Rights, David D. Newsom, ed. (University Press of America, 1986)), he argued that the US may have inadvertently played a role in Park Chung-hee's death. In return for the expectation that President Carter would cancel his plans to withdraw US troops from Korea, on the occasion of Carter's 1979 visit to Seoul Park Chung-hee freed a number of dissidents arrested under Emergency Measure 9. This was in response to Carter's focus on human rights, which had resulted in a steady drumbeat of criticism of the Park regime over the previous few years. As Gleysteen continues:
But the period of relaxation was brief. Within months, political, labor and student problems boiled up, and President Park lost his grip to the point that his confidant, KCIA Director Kim Jae Kyu, seemed convinced - quite wrongly - the nation would welcome his bloody assassination of Park on October 26. At a minimum, the apparent gains we achieved were short-lived. Debatably, we also helped set the scenario Park always feared. Partly because of their conviction that a new era of U.S. support had dawned under Carter, opposition political leaders, labor unionists, religious dissidents, and students adopted more confrontational tactics on the assumption that they would have U.S. support. Fed by confrontation and other volatile factors, events spiralled tragically out of control.
He concluded that "the sum total of...U.S. actions on the human rights front may have unwittingly contributed to President Park's fall and the unhappy chain of subsequent events."

Of course, depicting bad outcomes from good intentions is obviously too complex for this "political thriller" depicting Park's last days before the US ordered a hit on him. 

In somewhat related news, renovations of the former KCIA headquarters near Namsan (hence the Korean title of "The Man Standing Next") are nearly complete. According to articles here and here, the former KCIA HQ has been demolished except for the basement, where the torture rooms have been preserved. This area just opened as a museum this month, and the rest of the area will become "Human Rights Plaza" by this May. For those who are curious where exactly this is, if you enter 남산예장자락 보행공원 into a map, you'll get the location. 

Friday, January 29, 2021

Plastic surgery in Korea in the 1960s and early 1970s

 In my latest Korea Time article, "Looking down high noses at 'quack plastic surgeons' in 1971," I look at the development of plastic surgery in Seoul in the 1960s and early 1970s by using Korea Times articles from 1964 and 1971, as well as by consulting John DiMoia's book Reconstructing Bodies: Biomedicine, Health, and Nation-Building in South Korea Since 1945. Considering the difference between 1964 (when one doctor said he performed 2-3 operations a day) to 1971 (when there were 30 practicing plastic surgeons in Seoul, with one (who essentially complained about his comparatively small customer numbers) stating he had 150 customers a month), it's clear the industry grew a great deal during that time. I'd guess this was related to the development of the economy that saw, for example, the market for weekly magazines go from supporting one weekly between 1964 and 1968, and five weeklies by the end of 1968. As the 1971 article made clear, however, there were consequences to that apparently unregulated growth:

A search for 성형외과 in the Naver News Library, however, sees only 5 or so mentions per year until 1972, when the term started to become a bit more common. One mention in 1971 turns up a photo of Park Chung-hee inspecting a mobile operating vehicle donated to Yonsei University that was to be used to perform around 10 cleft lip operations per day around the country. I'm not 100% sure, but I think that is plastic surgery pioneer Lew Jae-duk (유재덕) leaning forward in the photo.

A few weeks ago I also wrote a review of Thomas Duvernay's book Sinmiyangyo: The 1871 Conflict Between the United States and Korea. It's easily the most informative book on the subject, and if you get the chance to take one of his tours of Ganghwa Island, where he leads you along the path of the American advance, it's well worth your time (he does them for the Royal Asiatic Society from time to time). 

Same place, different vantage points and times.

A few other stories of note: While I have some issues with the way it was written, this story of a young refugee from Thailand of Karen ethnicity who now lives in Bucheon and won hearts at a singing contest is worth reading. Less heartwarming are the stories here and here about the overworked delivery workers who make digital commerce possible (and profitable).

And while this is essentially an advertisement, it's still quite interesting to see how people of different ages remember Korea's history (by talking about the news events that made the greatest impression on them). Perhaps negative events stand out most (or were chosen by the editors), since the 1987 democracy protests aren't mentioned at all.