Dutifully Yours - Filial Piety in Korea
by Kim Jun-hee
Invest Korea Journal
Nov.-Dec. 2005It is no exaggeration to say that Korean social organization, following Confucian precepts, is centered on duties and obligations. It is the duty of a man to care for and protect his family, and the duty of a woman to bear children and obey her husband; it is the duty of a teacher to guide students to intellectual and moral heights, and the duty of the students to revere and obey the teacher; it is the duty of a leader to be an exemplary model for the subjects and rule over them with moral rectitude, and it is the duty of the subjects to abide by the ruler's directives and offer committed support. In one sense, then, Korean society may seem like a society devoid of volition, but rather one that is plagued by unshakable social and familial constraints. In another sense, however, such an innate cultural sense of responsibility for one another may be a significant contributor to Korea's social cohesion and national strength.
Of all the duties and obligations, none is as widely celebrated and ingrained in the Korean psyche as filial piety. Filial piety can be generalized as the proper behavior and attitude one must show one's parents and elders at large. A wide range of duties are included in "proper behavior and attitude," from providing one's parents with the best possible food, shelter, and clothing, to extending both hands when handing something to someone older than oneself. Other filial obligations include using the proper respectful form of speech when addressing an elder, unconditional obedience to one's parents and their decisions, and carrying on the family name by producing a male heir.
Desperate for an Heir
Efforts to continue the family bloodline have at times turned into bloody affairs in many parts of the world. However, in Korea, the continuation of the family name was not simply a matter of maintaining a household's grip on political or social power as it was in the palaces and courts of Europe, but a matter of filial honor and duty. The Korean family tree is centered on firstborn males. The firstborn male child was to become the next generation's head of the family, filially bound to the duty of producing the next male heir and performing ancestral rituals. Therefore, should the first wife fail to produce a male child, it was a filial son's duty to seek other recourse. Taking additional wives to one's self was one method. A family would sometimes "hire" a ssi-bad-i (the literal translation being "seed receiver"), a woman whose work description would simply entail, "producing a healthy male baby." Ssi-bad-i, unlike second, third, or fourth wives, was not considered a part of the family and would leave the patron's household once she fulfilled her contracted obligation. Another alternative was to adopt a male relative from a family whose continuation of the bloodline was ensured by an abundance of sons.
Daughters and Daughters-in-Law
It was only earlier this year that legislation was passed to revise existing family laws, which have, among other things, excluded women from being heads of households. This legal mandate coincides with the dispensability of females in the traditionally agricultural Korean society that valued males who could tend to the fields from which the family income was earned. Upon marriage, a woman is dropped from her family's registry and incorporated into her husband's family registry. Following this bureaucratic changeover, a woman's parents-in-law become the recipients of her filial devotion. The most prized act of filial piety a daughter-in-law could perform, especially if she is the wife of the first son of a household, is to produce many sons. In addition, a filial daughter-in-law would take care of all household chores under the direction of her mother- in-law.
It would seem as though a woman's filial duties to her own parents end with her marriage. In fact, it was generally frowned upon for a married woman to frequent her parents' home, as it was considered an affront to her new family. A woman had to obtain special permission from her parents-in-law to visit her birth family. Permission was generally only granted for special occasions such funerals and woman's delivery of a baby, as it was, and still is believed that nobody could take care of a pregnant woman better than her own mother. Moreover, by being away from her husband's household, a woman could be freed from countless household chores that may be even more difficult to carry out with a baby in tow. Before the advent of modern transportation and infrastructure, even if a woman obtained permission from her parents, it was sometimes just simply impossible for her to make what was often a long and treacherous journey back home. It was not uncommon for a woman to never see her parents again after marriage. Nonetheless, a woman's filial obligations to her parents do not end with marriage; they are merely transposed. A woman's filial devotion to her in-laws is considered a reflection of the woman's family's honor. A disrespectful daughter-in-law tarnishes her parents' name, while an obedient, son-bearing woman simultaneously fulfills her filial duties to her parents and to her parents-in-law.
Dead, Death, & Beyond
A woman's filial duty to her parents transcends bureaucracy and distance. As a matter of fact, even death cannot stand in the way of filial piety. The dictates of filial piety call for elaborate funerary rites and regular ancestor worship to reaffirm one's devotion to one's parents. A traditional Korean funeral usually lasts three days, but depending on the social status of the deceased and that of the family of the deceased, it could be extended to five or even seven days (must be an odd-number of days according to Korean tradition). Throughout the funeral, the family of the deceased is expected to wail (gok). Wailing is a common form of expressing grief and lamentation, but the stylized gok in Korean funerals is also an expression of guilt and regret on the part of the children of the deceased, partially blaming their inadvertently insufficient filial devotion as the cause of death. Throughout the funeral, the eldest male heir (sangju) is expected to stay awake and accompany the soul of the deceased as a demonstration of filial piety. After the burial, various rites and ceremonies continue throughout the mourning period, which could last between several days to three years; the epitome of filial piety is the devoted son, who erects a makeshift tent by his parent's grave, does not leave the grave site, and performs daily rites for three full years, clad in the purposefully abrasive hemp mourning attire. While such an extreme practice of filial piety is now extremely rare, many Korean sons and daughters still observe annual ancestor worship rituals to express their filial devotion on the anniversary of their parents' death. Ancestor worship ceremonies are also held on traditional holidays, such as New Year's and Chuseok (Harvest Moon Festival).
Carrying the World on Your Shoulders
The filial duties that have been mentioned so far represent only the tip of a mammoth iceberg that filial piety in reality is. The sheer scale and range of filial duties cannot be easily explained away in a tidy list. Rather, the Chinese character from which hyo (the Korean word for filial piety) derives pictographically expresses the expansive nature of filial piety. The hyo character consists of two simpler characters - the "son" character and the "earth" character. The son character is positioned below the earth character so as to mimic a son carrying the world on his shoulders (or head, depending on how one looks at it). Allowing some poetic latitude in its interpretation rather than relying on a stricter linguistic analysis, the "hyo" character suggests two important facets of filial piety. First, one's filial obligations cannot be taken lightly. It is a tantamount responsibility that is as important and challenging as buttressing the earth. Second, parents and elders at large, represented by the earth character, are one's world. Parents give their children the ultimate gift of life, which in turn, gives people the opportunity to live in the world. In a culture where family is so valued, parents, as the heads of a family, mean the world to the children. In a more general sense, the elders of society and all those who have come and gone before you provide you with the history, culture, and tradition that define the world you live in. Therefore, filial piety is an expansive concept with a matching range of obligations, but one that arises not from blind obedience to the dictates of decorum, but one that signifies a profound and heartfelt sense of gratitude, honor, and respect.
Once Upon a Time...
Filial piety's exalted status in Korean society and culture is demonstrated by the numerous traditional Korean folk tales that serve to applaud exemplary acts of such devotion and warn against not fulfilling one's basic duty to one's parents. Filial piety helps the filial son or daughter escape death, generate profound respect even from beasts, and reap great rewards as shown in the story The Filial Son and the Tiger.
"A man, who was a low-level official at a provincial government office, had a rather long commute. However, rain or shine, he returned home every night to take care of his old and ailing mother. One day, he ran into a tiger on his way back home from work. The tiger was about to eat him when the filial son said, 'I do not mind your eating me, but then who will take care of my mother?' The tiger was so moved by the son's filial piety that not only did the tiger forgo a delicious meal, he provided the son with a daily taxi service on his back so that the filial son could better serve his mother. The filial son was able to return the favor by freeing the tiger when the tiger got caught in a trap. Because of the tiger, the man reported to work late. The magistrate demanded an explanation. Upon hearing the story, the magistrate was so moved by the filial son's honorable acts that he showered him with priceless gifts and erected a monument with the filial son's story engraved."
There are stories that also offer a kind of self-help guide to transforming a non-filial family member into an upright filial son/daughter. Take, for example, How to Make a Filial Daughter-in-Law. "There was a mean daughter-in-law who mistreated her weak, old father-in-law. Her husband was very angry at his wife's improper behavior and devised a plan. He told his wife that they were buying fat people at the market.
'Dearest,' he said, 'why don't we fatten up my father and sell him the next time the market opens?' The mean daughter-in-law, of course, loved the idea and began feeding her father-in-law meat and other delicacies. The father-in-law was so touched by his daughter-in-law's sudden change that he helped around the house without even being asked to. When the market was held, the son took his father out and showed him around the market and bought him delicious foods. When they returned home, he told his wife that his father was not fat enough, and no one offered to buy him. The mean daughter- in-law fed him more meat and other delicacies, and in turn, the father-in-law became happier and healthier and helped around the house even more. When the next market was held, the son again took his father out for a day of good food and interesting sites. Again, the mean daughter-in-law asked why her father-in-law was not sold, and the husband again said that his father was not fat enough. As the daughter-in-law prepared more and more delicious dishes and treated her father-in-law well, the more helpful the father-in-law became. The daughter-in-law and father-in-law grew closer and closer, and when the next market was held and the husband got ready to take his father out again, his wife implored that her father-in-law not be sold."
Simcheong: Icon of Filial Piety
The most popular tale of filial devotion is The Story of Simcheong. "Simcheong's mother dies at childbirth, leaving her in the care of herblind father, Sim Bongsa (the Blind Sim). One day, Simcheong, the filial daughter, hears that making an offering of 300 bags of rice to a Buddhist temple will restore her father's sight. She offers herself to sailors who need to make a virgin sacrifice to appease the Yongwang (the Dragon King of the Seas). She is tossed into the sea in exchange for 300 bags of rice. When the Yongwang hears Simcheong's story, he is so moved by her filial piety that he sends her back to dry land in a giant lotus. The peculiar lotus is taken to the emperor. When she is discovered, the emperor falls in love with Simcheong and makes her his empress. Empress Simcheong then throws a large banquet for all blind men of the country in the hopes of seeing her father again. When Sim Bongsa hears Simcheong's voice, he is so shocked and overjoyed that his sight is restored."
Simcheong's popularity is timeless and expansive. The Story of Simcheong was once probably just another tale passed on from parent to child, a part of Korea's diffuse oral storytelling tradition. It is not clear why Simcheong, in particular, captured the imagination of so many, became the icon of filial piety, and her story adapted to various literary and theatrical genres. The story of Shimcheong was first adapted to pansori, a unique, traditional Korean-style performance art that can best be described as a stylized, rhythmic narration of a story accompanied by a single Korean-style drum. The story of Simcheong has also been made into traditional and modern novels, comic books, and changgeuk (a type of Korean music theater that combines epic solo singing, acting and narration). The story of Simcheong's filial devotion managed to keep abreast new technological advances in creative media and has been told and retold in television movies and animation, often broadcasted during traditional holidays. Recently, Nelson Shin transformed the tale of Simcheong into a feature-length animation under the title of Empress Chung. Interestingly, Empress Chung was a North/South Korean joint project, with North Korean animators doing the sketches and drawings and the South Korean Shin producing and directing the film. Also, the original soundtrack is the work of a North Korean composer.
Filial Piety Today
The continuing popularity of Simcheong is but one indication that filial piety as a cherished Korean virtue has withstood the test of time. The particular details of practices of filial devotion such as those of funerary rites have been altered to meet the practical demands of the busy schedules of modern Koreans. Also, the filial duty of producing a male heir is no longer as oppressive and unbending as it once was. Taking a second or third wife, hiring a ssi-bad-i, or adopting a male relative to carry on the family bloodline is unheard of, and many recent polls suggest that an increasing number of families actually prefer daughters to sons.
Despite such changes, the essence of filial piety permeates Korean society. Many Korean couples choose to have the husband's (and sometimes even the wife's) parents live with them so that they can give the parents the best possible care and attention. Many Koreans also provide their parents with monthly financial assistance. General respect for elders can be witnessed on busy buses and subway trains where it is not uncommon to see hard-earned seats being sacrificed to elders. What are considered good manners, such as kneeling with one's legs tucked under one's bottom when sitting on the floor in the presence of elders and waiting for elder members to begin eating before one does, all reflect the pervasiveness of filial piety in Korean culture.
New expressions of filial piety have also taken root. Overseas travel was only completely liberalized in Korea in 1989. Therefore, even to this day, some Koreans regard overseas travel as a novel luxury. As a demonstration of filial piety, children plan and finance overseas trips for their parents. Such a travel arrangement even has a special name - hyodo gwangwang (filial piety tourism). Numerous health and pharmaceutical products are marketed to appeal to Koreans' culturally innate sense of filial devotion. A common marketing strategy, especially on infomercials, is to emphasize that a particular product is a hyodo sangpum (filial piety product) that would be much appreciated by elderly parents.
A Traditional Remedy for Korea's Future
Concerns of aging population are widespread in many advanced countries, and Korea is no exception. There are calls for drastic welfare and tax reform and other political and social remedies so Korea can be better prepared to tackle what will be a challenging task ahead. Indeed, Koreans should be extremely cautious, attentive, and forward-looking, so that proper institutional safeguards are in place to deal with this looming issue. However, wallowing in doomsday scenarios is not warranted. The problem of a steadily aging population is not unique to Korea, but a deeply rooted sense of responsibility and respect for elders is not prevalent in many other societies. Korea's time-honored tradition of filial piety has the potential to provide crucial support in its preparation for the future. Who says traditions are outdated?