In continuation of last week's story, I continue with yet another story about a vixen.
In the Western folklore, the fox is often seen to be of neutral gender -- by this, I mean that when a fox appears in a story, unless explicitly told of its gender, there is no reason to assume that the fox is either male or female.
However, in the Korean folklore, you almost always assume that if a fox appears in a story, then it is female (hence my translation as a "vixen" rather than a "fox" -- both are just called "여우" in Korean.) They have magical powers (mostly used for hiding their real identities), are malicious, and -- just like the Western foxes -- sly. Combining these two facts, it is no coincidence that Koreans often call the women who try to manipulate others using their femininity "여우." For example, the Koreans may badmouth the women who suddenly become full of 애교 (aegyo) in front of men by saying:
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Once upon a time, there lived a husband and wife, who had three sons from their marriage. However, they longed for a daughter, and they prayed to their god for a daughter daily. It seemed that their wish was not granted, as the wife did not seem to become pregnant. In their frustration, the couple said, "If only we could have a daughter, we wouldn't even mind if our three sons were dead."
Their god, upon hearing this, became enraged at their blatant disregard for their sons' lives. So he cursed the couple, although he allowed the wife to be pregnant with a daughter.
After the daughter was born, the household animals mysteriously dying off one by one. The couple, worried, asked their eldest son to investigate the cause, by standing watch over the animals one night. While the eldest son was dozing off in the stables, he was woken by the sound of footsteps. When he looked up, he saw that his younger sister had snuck into the stables, and had killed one of the horses. She opened up the horse, took out its liver, ate it raw, and disappeared.
Shocked and shaken, the eldest son went directly to his parents and told them about his sister. His parents, who had taken to doting on their daughter, were enraged at this story and bade the eldest brother to leave their home.
The animals continued to die off, and the second and the youngest sons were also met with the same fate as the oldest son.
The three brothers spent the next few years under the protection of a Buddhist monk ("중" in Korean), who fed and clothed them, and also taught them many things. All this time, the brothers were worried sick about having left their parents alone with their sister. They eventually decided to go back home to see how things were.
The Buddhist monk, fearing for the sons' safety, gave each of them a small 호리병 (these were made by scraping out the inside of a gourd -- a type of a pumpkin -- and drying them out, or they were made to resemble the shape). The eldest's 호리병 was yellow, the middle brother's blue, and the youngest's red. The monk told the brothers to throw the 호리병 in case of danger.
When the three brothers went home, they were astonished to see that only an abandoned house stood where their old house used to be. As they stood, thunderstruck, their sister came out from the abandoned house and greeted the brothers in tears. When they asked where their parents and servants were, the sister responded that they all died from illness.
Sensing danger, the brothers said, "Dear sister, we have come a long way and we are very hungry. Do you think you could find some food for us to eat?"
When the sister went into the kitchen to prepare food, the three brothers took flight. However, the sister had immediately realized that they were running away, and chased them at an unbelievable speed.
Terrified, the eldest son threw his yellow 호리병 between himself and the chasing sister. Immediately, an endless expanse of thorned hedges appeared between the brothers and the sister, and the brothers were able to put some distance between them.
However, the sister soon caught up with them again, and this time, the middle brother threw his blue 호리병. This time, an ocean appeared between the brothers and the sister, but the sister overcame that in time too.
Finally, terrified and fearing for their lives, the youngest brother threw his red 호리병. Immediately, huge flames engulfed the sister in pursuit. She was burned to death, and the flames disappeared.
In the place where the sister's body should have been was the scorched body of a vixen. In hearing the couple's unreasonable prayer for a daughter, they had angered the gods, who had given them a vixen child instead of a real daughter, who then proceeded to ruin the entire family.
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So, vixens were sly beings that misled the people around them to hide their real identities. I am aware that the foxes are rarely portrayed as protagonists in the Western folklore; however, in the Korean folklore, the foxes, or rather, the vixens, were downright evil. The way to defeat them was first and foremost to be vigilant, so that you are not caught unawares, and to hope for a little bit of divine intervention (in both stories of the vixens that I've presented, they appear in the form of a Buddhist monk!) After all, the foxes are not particularly powerful, so you just have to be not tricked.
I do, however, wonder why the foxes in the Korean folklore are almost always women. No doubt this negative portrayal has somehow contributed to the Korean sexism, which often sees women as sly, two-faced beings (we do this sometimes in the Western culture too, but Koreans are much worse at this.) My guess is that among the animals familiar to the Korean terrains, there was the natural choice for the most powerful animal -- the tiger, who are almost always portrayed as being masculine (on the other hand, bears or wolves were also common in Korea, and they are fairly neutral in gender).
For what it's worth, tigers are often portrayed as antagonists too -- the powerful yet stupid kind. Sexism much? (To be continued in the next installation!)
In the Western folklore, the fox is often seen to be of neutral gender -- by this, I mean that when a fox appears in a story, unless explicitly told of its gender, there is no reason to assume that the fox is either male or female.
However, in the Korean folklore, you almost always assume that if a fox appears in a story, then it is female (hence my translation as a "vixen" rather than a "fox" -- both are just called "여우" in Korean.) They have magical powers (mostly used for hiding their real identities), are malicious, and -- just like the Western foxes -- sly. Combining these two facts, it is no coincidence that Koreans often call the women who try to manipulate others using their femininity "여우." For example, the Koreans may badmouth the women who suddenly become full of 애교 (aegyo) in front of men by saying:
걔는 정말 남자들 앞에서는 여우야 (She is such a vixen in front of the other men).While this seems like a simple comparison between these women and what is considered the most sly of the animals, even this simple phrase is deeply rooted in this well-known Korean folklore, often referred to as "여우누이전" ("누이" is an old Korean word for "sister (both older and younger)" and "전" just means "folklore.")
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Once upon a time, there lived a husband and wife, who had three sons from their marriage. However, they longed for a daughter, and they prayed to their god for a daughter daily. It seemed that their wish was not granted, as the wife did not seem to become pregnant. In their frustration, the couple said, "If only we could have a daughter, we wouldn't even mind if our three sons were dead."
Their god, upon hearing this, became enraged at their blatant disregard for their sons' lives. So he cursed the couple, although he allowed the wife to be pregnant with a daughter.
After the daughter was born, the household animals mysteriously dying off one by one. The couple, worried, asked their eldest son to investigate the cause, by standing watch over the animals one night. While the eldest son was dozing off in the stables, he was woken by the sound of footsteps. When he looked up, he saw that his younger sister had snuck into the stables, and had killed one of the horses. She opened up the horse, took out its liver, ate it raw, and disappeared.
Shocked and shaken, the eldest son went directly to his parents and told them about his sister. His parents, who had taken to doting on their daughter, were enraged at this story and bade the eldest brother to leave their home.
The animals continued to die off, and the second and the youngest sons were also met with the same fate as the oldest son.
The three brothers spent the next few years under the protection of a Buddhist monk ("중" in Korean), who fed and clothed them, and also taught them many things. All this time, the brothers were worried sick about having left their parents alone with their sister. They eventually decided to go back home to see how things were.
The Buddhist monk, fearing for the sons' safety, gave each of them a small 호리병 (these were made by scraping out the inside of a gourd -- a type of a pumpkin -- and drying them out, or they were made to resemble the shape). The eldest's 호리병 was yellow, the middle brother's blue, and the youngest's red. The monk told the brothers to throw the 호리병 in case of danger.
This is a 호리병. As an aside, have you ever heard people describe someone as having a "호리병 몸매?" |
A page from a Korean book depicting this story, where the sister (who clearly doesn't look right) is rushing out to greet the brothers. |
Sensing danger, the brothers said, "Dear sister, we have come a long way and we are very hungry. Do you think you could find some food for us to eat?"
When the sister went into the kitchen to prepare food, the three brothers took flight. However, the sister had immediately realized that they were running away, and chased them at an unbelievable speed.
Terrified, the eldest son threw his yellow 호리병 between himself and the chasing sister. Immediately, an endless expanse of thorned hedges appeared between the brothers and the sister, and the brothers were able to put some distance between them.
However, the sister soon caught up with them again, and this time, the middle brother threw his blue 호리병. This time, an ocean appeared between the brothers and the sister, but the sister overcame that in time too.
A page from yet another Korean storybook telling the story of 여우누이. |
Finally, terrified and fearing for their lives, the youngest brother threw his red 호리병. Immediately, huge flames engulfed the sister in pursuit. She was burned to death, and the flames disappeared.
In the place where the sister's body should have been was the scorched body of a vixen. In hearing the couple's unreasonable prayer for a daughter, they had angered the gods, who had given them a vixen child instead of a real daughter, who then proceeded to ruin the entire family.
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So, vixens were sly beings that misled the people around them to hide their real identities. I am aware that the foxes are rarely portrayed as protagonists in the Western folklore; however, in the Korean folklore, the foxes, or rather, the vixens, were downright evil. The way to defeat them was first and foremost to be vigilant, so that you are not caught unawares, and to hope for a little bit of divine intervention (in both stories of the vixens that I've presented, they appear in the form of a Buddhist monk!) After all, the foxes are not particularly powerful, so you just have to be not tricked.
I do, however, wonder why the foxes in the Korean folklore are almost always women. No doubt this negative portrayal has somehow contributed to the Korean sexism, which often sees women as sly, two-faced beings (we do this sometimes in the Western culture too, but Koreans are much worse at this.) My guess is that among the animals familiar to the Korean terrains, there was the natural choice for the most powerful animal -- the tiger, who are almost always portrayed as being masculine (on the other hand, bears or wolves were also common in Korea, and they are fairly neutral in gender).
For what it's worth, tigers are often portrayed as antagonists too -- the powerful yet stupid kind. Sexism much? (To be continued in the next installation!)