SPEAKER_00: Hello! From WonderMedia Network, I'm Jenny Kaplan, and this is Womanica. This month we're talking about mischief-makers, oddballs, chameleons, and non-conformists—queens of quick wit. Today's Womanica wrote poetry that made her famous among her contemporaries and resonated for centuries afterwards. Please welcome Huan Jin-hee. Jin-hee's story lies somewhere at the intersection of history, folklore, and her own poetic license. So, while not every detail we have about her life is set in stone, all of it does make up the historic character we know today as Huan Jin-hee. Jin-hee was likely born in the early 16th century in the province of Songdo in modern-day North Korea. Her parents were from two different social castes. Her father was a nobleman, and her mother was a commoner from the Chanmin class, the lowest caste of commoners. As a result, Jin-hee was also a Chanmin. Jin-hee was destined for poetic greatness from a young age. She was beautiful and musically gifted. Legend had it that a young man pined after her for so long and so fervently that he died of a broken heart. After that fateful love affair, Jin-hee dedicated herself to the study of the arts to become a kiseng, a traditional courtesan trained in performing arts and conversation. It's more likely that her mother signed her up to start training. Kiseng usually began their schooling around the age of 10. Kiseng were still part of the Chanmin class, but these women experienced a bit more freedom than they would in other occupations or social classes. They interacted often with powerful figures from higher classes. They were taught traditional Korean arts, and in many ways they were integral to the development and future of that art as well. In particular, kiseng were associated with the form of poetry called shizhou. These shizhou are short lyrical poems that crystallize deep emotions and complicated affections into succinct stanzas. The first line introduces an idea. The second develops the theme through an unrelated image. And the third delivers an ironic twist or resolution. Jin-hee wrote under the name Bright Moon. She was a natural, witty, clever, and quite talented in her ability to express a multitude of emotions in just a few syllables. Her shizhos are considered some of the most beautiful ever written, playing with double entendres, pattern of nature, and human desire. Though it's difficult to explain her lyrical prowess through translations, her poems speak for themselves in their artistry. I'll cut a piece from the waist of this interminable 11th moon night, and wind it in coils beneath these bedcovers, warm and fragrant as the spring breeze. Hoyle by coil to unwind it the night my lover returns. Jin-hee completed her training and started her duty as a keiseng by the time she was 15 years old. From there, adventures abounded. She took a long trip sightseeing around Mount Kumgong, demonstrating just how much independence her lifestyle gave her. There are also countless tales about her many, many romantic conquests. One was a misogynistic government official, who bragged he would keep Jin-hee around for a month at most and then dismiss her without regret. By the end of their time together, he begged her to stay. Jin-hee wrote him a poem goodbye. In another instance, her charisma was so seductive, she made a man renounce life as a monk, though he never really had a chance with her. Jin-hee loved to challenge. She set her eyes on a royal who prided himself as a man of virtue. First of all, he also wrote poems under the pen name Blue Stream. Jin-hee wrote him a sly poem. In it, she asks why streams rush out to sea. On a second read, however, Bright Moon's real question to Blue Stream becomes clear. Blue Stream, do not boast a swift passage through green mountains, she warns. Bright Moon fills the empty mountain. Why not rest a little with me? Allegedly, Blue Stream was so taken with the poem when he read it, he fell right off his donkey. Perhaps Jin-hee's most famous work was a simple riddle. She'd ask it of any man who wished to be her lover. Only one man ever answered it correctly, a Confucian scholar. Jin-hee was so impressed she volunteered to become his disciple. He was also, it's said, the only person truly impervious to her charms. Jin-hee held him in high regard, referring to him as the third wonder of Kaesong, the city where she'd been. The second was the beautiful waterfalls in the area, and the first herself. A Ki-Sang's career was short. After beginning at 15, their professional lives were usually over by the age of 22. If all of Jin-hee's many travels are taken into account, it's likely she worked a little longer, until she was around 30. After that, she lived a fairly quiet life, dying in Kaesong in the mid-16th century. When she died, she requested to be buried among the only things that could have rivaled her beauty and grace in life, the greenery of Kaesong itself. All month, we're talking about Mischief Bakers. For more information, check us out on Facebook and Instagram at Wamanaka Podcast. Special thanks to Liz Kaplan, my favorite sister and co-creator. As always, we're taking a break for the weekend. Talk to you on Monday.
