Kim Seung-jong's Literary Miscellany (169) 'Breaking Through the Shell and Moving Forward'

On the afternoon of May 1st, Labor Day, I went to a department store near my house and stopped for quite some time watching children and young parents at the kiosk near the entrance choosing toys for Children's Day on May 5th. The clean and hopeful gazes of the children and parents as they affectionately selected toys. Their uniformly innocent expressions seemed to open a door in my heart, making it clear and bright. I wished for the children to grow well and for their futures to be beautiful. As I wondered at this sustained sentiment, different from my usual state, I became aware of the influence of the poem I had read before going out and the image related to 'jeultaktongsi (啐啄同時)' [when a chick tries to break out of its shell, the chick must peck from inside and the mother hen must peck from outside simultaneously] and philosophy.

In the evening body

a fresh blue star rises

rising in the perineum

in the center of the chest, in the navel

it rises even from within the brain

The tree that I burned to death

grows within me

I die

above the tree

rising as a crescent moon

O love

tell me the subtle moment of birth

Breaking through the shell and moving forward

kick free and go

I shall become the universe

I shall be reborn

- 「Jeultaktongsi (啐啄)」(1987)/Kim Ji-ha(1941-2022)

The speaker within the 'shell' yearns for 'the subtle moment of birth' and encourages himself by saying 'breaking through the shell and moving forward.' Although there is no explicit mention of external aid from outside the 'shell' that would be equal to or exceed the speaker's will and effort, we can understand from the title 'Jeultaktongsi,' and we feel that this prayer for assistance is comprehensively implied in the third stanza: 'O love / tell me the subtle moment of birth.'

The first and second lines of the first stanza, 'in the evening body / a fresh blue star rises,' present the fundamental situation of this poem. To proceed with appreciation, we must first estimate what 'the body in the evening' refers to and what state it represents. Rather than 'the body in the evening,' it is 'the body as if it were evening'—that is, the speaker is expressing his own 'body' as being in a state of decline, like an 'evening.' However, what we should really pay attention to is the subsequent moment when hope refreshes this state of decline. A 'fresh blue star' 'rises' within this 'body' of his. Just as a 'fresh blue star' emerges in the vast and dark sky of evening, it rises in the most vital parts of the body: the 'perineum,' the 'chest,' and the 'brain.'

As we recognize the image created in the first stanza, we simultaneously feel that hints of regeneration are embedded within it. In the second stanza, this sign is strengthened. The tree 'that I burned to death,' 'grows within me,' and 'above' this tree, 'I' 'rise as a crescent moon.' We cannot help but say that the meaning of regeneration is reinforced in this statement. Yet at this point, we must also perceive clearly that this 'tree' is located as a 'tree' that 'grows within me.' And 'within me' is the same expression as 'the body in the evening' from the first line of the first stanza, and as this phenomenon of hope is presented there, its limitation is raised in parallel. Thus the speaker passes through the third stanza and finally presents in the fourth stanza the massive barrier of the 'shell' to himself, crying out 'breaking through the shell and moving forward.' Is this an impassioned roar?

Even if it becomes a summary, it would be good to organize the speaker's situation as follows. The speaker, existing within the 'shell,' ardently desires to break through the 'shell' and go outside, and is also in a state of preparation to do so. Not only has a 'fresh blue star' risen in the 'body,' but in the first line of the second stanza, the speaker said 'I burned to death.' This does not literally mean burning to death, but rather it is a rhetorical expression meaning that the speaker has actively renewed his former self to such a degree that he has become a different being, with the 'crescent moon' being its symbol. We must also note that the 'crescent moon' is a moon, but it is 'a moon more bent than a half moon,' and we must recognize the implication that the speaker is still expressing himself as an insufficient and lacking being. In other words, the speaker is confessing that he is still trapped within the absolute limit of the 'shell,' and without external cooperation, without collaborative effort, the 'shell' cannot be broken down.

Meanwhile, the soliloquy in the third stanza, 'O love / tell me the subtle moment of birth,' appears somewhat abrupt in its appearance after the second stanza, but had its appearance been postponed to after the fourth stanza beginning with 'breaking through the shell and moving forward,' it might have been an ordinary composition of the poem's theme 'yearning for jeultaktongsi.' That is, while the theme of this poem might seem to be the statement in the fourth stanza, based on our examination so far, the third stanza is the prominent moment where the theme of this poem is highlighted. The speaker prays. When I attempt the 'jeul (啐)' of breaking through the 'shell,' may the being outside the 'shell' perform the 'tak (啄).' The speaker begs 'love' to 'tell' him that 'subtle moment of birth,' that 'time.'

Thus finally, we must pay attention as if sighing or praying. The fact that the object the speaker looks up to in hope of having 'the time told' to him is precisely 'love'—let us note this repeatedly. We may understand this 'love' as the love we know, and while maintaining the same essence, it would be even better to expand it in connection with the dimension of 'universe' in the third line of the fourth stanza. 'Love' that encompasses the arrangement of both inside and outside of the 'shell.'

In the third line of the fourth stanza, the speaker says 'I shall become the universe,' which likely means becoming part of that boundless world. Unlike the world within the egg surrounded by a 'shell,' it is a new dimensional world where life can properly realize itself according to its will and where true activity can unfold in an order free from oppression and obstruction.

For reference, the poet has mentioned 'jeultaktongsi' in this poem. "When the chick in the egg reaches the time and tries to break out, it pecks one part. Yet at that very moment, the mother hen, as if by divine knowing, also pecks that same part from outside. Inside and outside," explaining the meaning, and then expressing his intended meaning: "Life and spirituality, human social transformation and inner meditation coming together as one—that is jeultaktongsi," he stated.(Ed. Hong Yong-hee, 『Kim Ji-ha's Last Dialogue』, Writer, 2023, pp. 34-35)

That is, the speaker within the 'shell' is compared to the 'chick' inside the egg, and in this poem, the meaning corresponds to incomplete 'life' or 'human social transformation.' The subject of assistance, compared to the 'mother hen' waiting outside the 'shell' and also waiting for the 'time,' corresponds to 'spirituality' or 'inner meditation.' To achieve true social transformation and create a world of universal awakening for all people, everyone must not only have will and effort but also implement the middle way by overcoming selfishness and bias through spiritual meditation. Could it not be said that this philosophy is the final message of this poem?

We must respect the poet's statement. Yet we may read the speaker within the 'shell' in this nation as a metonymy of ourselves—those of us who are bound by or deliberately embrace left and right ideology that has interfered with our modern history from the foundation, directly and indirectly, since Japanese colonial rule in the twentieth century through the present—those of us who desire change yet are constrained by these things and must thoroughly renew ourselves. And to interpret it as a call to overcome our own faults and limitations, through the reflection of spirituality whose ultimate end is 'love,' so that we may be newly 'born,' the poet would likely not shake his head. We need to continue reading this poem, so as to transcend the persistent, tiresome conflicts and collisions and sublimate them into collective energy.

Coming on May 8th is Parents' Day and the fourth anniversary of the poet's passing. In that unprecedented spring of 1991, when workers' self-immolations continued on the streets, the poet published "Young Friends, What Do You Learn from History?" ('Sweep away the ritual performance of death,' Chosun Ilbo, May 5th), yet he was alienated and disparaged by those on both the right and the left. This only deepens regret when one savors this poem. The ascendancy and arrogance of one side produce the resentment and grievance of the other, and history will repeat the same structure. As we all inwardly agree, beliefs related to social transformation should not be hung as ideology but rather called what they are—ideology. And only by first acknowledging each other's faults and shortcomings can we learn from history.