The Grand Narrative

(Photo by annick777)

Introduction

At least by the editors of women’s magazines anyway (with apologies to the S&M crowd). Sure, your first impression may well be that in that sense then almost all women like “being told what to do,” but then the consensus of those that have actually studied the damn things (magazines I mean) is that in this part of the world they’re unique in the prescriptive tone of language that they use, much more akin to that of teachers in schools and after-school institutes than anything else. And when I say “unique”, I mean that very few other kinds of written media are so patronizing towards readers, even in a region where a constant acknowledgement of someone’s higher rank and status is fundamental to the languages.

I’ve already discussed possible reasons for this in these posts; today’s is just a quick a presentation of evidence for and confirmation of those from Keiko Tanaka’s chapter entitled ”Japanese Women’s Magazines: the language of aspiration” in the book The Worlds of Japanese Popular Culture: Gender, Shifting Boundaries and Global Cultures, edited by D.P. Martinez (1998). The book itself has been sitting unopened in my bookcase for years, bought back when I was doing my MA and could convince my wife that I was required to buy up to a dozen books for it every few months (occupational hazard of being married to a geek), and there it would have remained had my research for a Korea Studies conference not forced me into a desperate search for any sources on East Asian popular culture that I could find.

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Readers may be surprised that I took so long to read it, especially as Japanese popular culture is usually the first thing that East Asia geeks like myself begin studying in any real depth. For those few of you that aren’t yet East Asia geeks yourself, the reason for that is because of being corrupted by Japanese history lecturers, who have a strange tendency in otherwise normal lectures to suddenly whip out, say, The Dream of the Fisherman’s Wife onto the overhead projector and then proceed to talk at great length and detail about tentacle sex manga, all the while in the same nonchalant manner and style of voice that he or she was talking about Edo Period economic policy five minutes earlier. Once one’s interest is aroused, as tends to happen after going through that surreal experience, then there’s more than enough interesting books on oddities like it to keep one occupied for a lifetime…and I don’t have the money.

Having said that, there’s a lot of crap out there too, and much of it, like tentacle sex manga, up there with ASEAN and postmodernism in being created for the sole purpose of providing jobs and publishing opportunities for academics. Oh yes, and for shocking students with too. Although saying things like “period pain” to mixed groups of 19 year-olds is about as risqué as I could get at my last job myself, I have to say that watching pompous freshmen squirm in embarrassment at it has been one of the highlights of my ESL career.  

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No tentacle sex in this otherwise excellent book though, maybe because most of it was researched before the internet really took off. And while the usual caveats about extending Tanaka’s conclusions apply, I’d be very surprised if they weren’t just as relevant today as in 1998, or to women’s magazines of most other East Asian countries too. Of Korean women’s magazines in particular, while I don’t go so far as to religiously read them myself (no, really), I do have sufficient Korean ability and experience with different media here to bet money on them applying to those for instance.

The Prescriptive Character of Contemporary Women’s Magazines

(Photo by Wallami)

I’ll let Tanaka herself do most of the talking from now on. Starting off after her short potted history of the industry then:

The prescriptiveness of the language employed in women’s magazines is a striking characteristic. The tone of the many of the features is blunt and hectoring, a curious point, given the alleged Japanese concern with politeness and the avoidance of confrontation. Even when not directly ordering readers about, the magazines draw lessons for young women from a surprising variety of events.

By arguing that there is a characteristic common to [these] magazines, I do not intend to suggest homogeneity amongst [them] or their readership….I hope that by examining a feature shared by these magazines, some general strategies in production of this particular form of popular culture will emerge.

The core of my argument is that these magazines not only provide detail, but also tell their readers what to do and what not to do. The manner in which this is done could be seen as almost patronizing and condescending. Compared to Japanese features, English equivalents may be similarly detailed but do not have the same prescriptive tone. (p. 117)

And with that she provides the first of ultimately over 100 examples from magazines, which to be polite, are a bit of a drag typing out here. I will do some, which I’ve underlined to make easier to pick out, but I think I can be forgiven for only providing the bare minimum to make my point, and especially for dispensing with mention of the sources and a romanization of the original Japanese!

( “Her Bikini’s Still Ugly” by 27)

The examples she starts with are used to contrast the overall prescriptive tone of Japanese women’s magazines with the overall more suggestive tone of English ones, but then she demonstrates with more that prescription is hardly unique to the former, which also sometimes use suggestions too. But:

This said, audiences are more often told what to look out for:

Céline motifs…it is effective to show them off by using a number of them concentrated around the region of your hands.

The loafers which have been popular all this time cannot be overlooked either.” (p. 118-119)

Japanese magazines know what is right for their audiences and tell them so in no uncertain terms:

This is about the best length for the jacket.

It is desireable to have all four basic items.

These magazines even make up their readers’ minds for them:

You no longer want anything less than “cheap and good” clothes.

We have decided to have your hair done in a bob next time. (p. 119)

And then she says that while statements of this type translate rather well into English, in Japanese they may well be regarded as patronizing, something which I’ve found can just as readily be lost in the translation of Korean to English too. But the success of these magazines suggests that readers do not mind the language, and in fact her informants have told her:

…that the tone has never caused them any annoyance or irritation. They all mention as a reason for buying the magazines that they can expect practical and detailed information on fashion and other related matters.

This raises the question as to where such language might come from, and my suggestion, from the resonance of the language, is that it comes from the authoritarian tone used by Japanese teachers in school.

(Photo by alexanderbot)

She then gives examples of expressions used which rely on familiar phrases from the classroom, then those that demonstrate how:

The magazines are keen on grading and they sometimes flatter their audience for following what they say with a kind of ranking:

Please enjoy this fashion, which is superior by one rank.

Those who in the senior grade should give it a finishing touch with a purple scarf. (p. 120)

In some magazines, expressions “reminiscent of school tests are rife:

You get a circle [for a correct answer] for wearing a long-knitted jacket or a waistcoat on top.

This suit is only just a borderline pass mark.

The last two expressions were from magazines that cater for young twenty-somethings and even high-school students, and so that language would obviously be more familiar and acceptable to them than older women. As a whole, the language of those magazines specifically targeted at that age group:

…tends to be fairly colloquial, closer to spoken language than is usually the case in a written textbook, but similar to the language of cram school textbooks, which are meant to reproduce live lectures; many of these prescriptive expressions…are strikingly similar to those used in [cram school] textbooks….and a high proportion of the readership of the magazines would have attended such institutions. (p. 121, emphasis mine)

( Photo by superlocal)

Sound like somewhere you know?

On the surface it may not seem all that surprising or profound to hear that these magazines for 18-25 year-old Japanese women talk to them like schoolchildren, and that most of the readers don’t mind…hell, some of them are schoolchildren. But think about it: what Western 18 year-old doesn’t think that he or she is more knowledgeable than the adults and authority figures that previously had to be deferred to, and revelling in new-found freedoms and independence? A magazine that treated them as the language used here seems to, as “pupils who aspire to achieve standards defined by the editors” (p.127), would go under before the ink on the pages was dry.

Ultimately, the language of Japanese magazines, which doesn’t translate well, is masking profound and deep differences between cultures. In particular, Tanaka writes of the particularly prescriptive 25 ans magazine:

…this tendency…may be related to its main objective, which is expressed as “For nurturing discerning eyes and individuality”. I have argued elsewhere that in Japan individuality (kosei) is more about being fashionable and sophisticated than about actually “doing one’s own thing”. (pp. 121-122, emphasis mine)

And there you have it: evidence from Japanese women’s magazines demonstrates that what Taeyeon Kim and Minjeong Kim and Shannon Lennon have said of the real meaning of “individuality” in Korea is completely paralleled in Japan. This is what one would expect if the former’s arguments about Neo-Confucian notions of women as “subjectless bodies” applied not just to Korea but all of East Asia, not coincidentally the gist of the abstract I’m writing. It’s also yet another case of some aspect of East Asian life that superficially appears identical to its Western counterparts, especially to outsiders and expats, but which in reality even the briefest of investigations proves to be quite different.

( “Seoul City Hall” by jstifani)

And that’s the point I wanted to make. There is a great deal more to Tanaka’s article, mostly her reaction to various counterarguments to the above, and especially to the charge that she is portraying young Japanese women as too passive, naive and unthinking, but for the sake of reader’s eyesight I think I should stop there! But the rest is just as interesting, and I’d be quite happy to devote a second post to it if any readers want.

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History or art? Most people would probably say the former, but then the mountain ranges and valleys in the map above have little relation to reality. Still, I think it’s an…ahem…simply beautiful piece of work myself, but unfortunately don’t know where it’s from. Can any museum-visiting readers help out?

As you can probably guess, I’m quite a fan of maps (I’m not alone!), and have about 20 or so just of various parts of Korea. I used to have two laminated, detailed maps of my local area hanging up in my kitchen, but I took them down once I discovered a nice, secluded park 10 minutes from my apartment, which the maps had deprived me of visiting for three years because the park isn’t on either (places to get some quiet and seclusion are very rare and precious here!). In their place, I’ve been combining my interest in Korea, history in general, geography and near-future science-fiction by looking at maps of how what Northeast Asia will look like in the near future as the sea-level rises, what it looked like 20,000, 19,000, 18,000…(and so on) years ago, and how the whole world will look like with a 100m sea-level rise. And don’t get me started on the supercontinent of Pangaea Ultima due to appear in 250-400 million years time!

(Update: A big thanks to Jer, who tells me where he got the original shot from here)

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I’ve been so caught up with Korean women’s bodies recently (hey, it happens) that I’ve only just realised that I haven’t posted about original, creative, and/or quirky Korean art for a while now. Let me try rectifying that, starting with this cool painting made using a paintball gun: 

Found at Mongdori here, which is quite a treasure trove of interesting videos like that.

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( “Gravity” by nickwheeleroz)

Korea and the World

At the end of Part One, I mentioned that the Korean education system is routinely held up as a model for the West by foreign observers, and gave an example from The Economist magazine here. Here is a more recent example from The New York Times too. 

Now before I came to Korea, I had a great deal of respect for both news sources, but the longer I’m here and the more articles about Korea I read in them, I realise that I can’t trust the accuracy of either.  Anyone with just a few months of teaching experience in either a Korean university, public-school, or after-school institute knows that the system as a whole possesses numerous and systematic flaws, and that Korean parents themselves are simply desperate to have their children taught overseas. So what gives? Why do reporters that supposedly “read between the lines,” always “question everything,” and are paid to do the research that I do for free routinely produce such complete crap about Korea? If I lived in, say, Syria, would I find the same of English-language articles produced about that country? Or is this something…surely not unique, but more pronounced in Korea than elsewhere?

Scott Burgeson, introduced in Part 1, makes a convincing case for the latter. To finish my discussion of his thoughts on the decline of Korean Studies programs overseas:

…the fact of the matter is that it is almost impossible for a non-Korean critic to make a decent living writing about Korean culture for English-speaking readers. Thus, the lack of public or private grant assistance for Western critics covering Korean culture means that it is difficult to find commenters on Korean culture in the popular English-language press who actually know what they’re talking about (or who are not simply hacks).

I remember when I interviewed the Japanese director Suzuki Seijun in Tokyo nearly ten years ago, the staff at the Japan Foundation were extremely happy to hear about my work and went out of their way to provide stills from his films to print in my magazine at no cost to myself. They did not care whether I had a degree behind my name or not, but were simply pleased that I was helping to promote Japanese culture to an English-speaking readership — and I might note that an extremely transgressive director Suzuki is hardly a “respectable” standard-bearer of Japanese culture. My interactions with the Korea Foundation have been, well, in the interests of being diplomatic, quite the opposite. Perhaps I am burning bridges by posting this kind of message to the List, but since I gave up applying for grants here many years ago, I know that it will not affect me one way or the other so I really don’t care anymore.

There are many reasons why Korean culture is and shall continue to remain relatively obscure on the world stage, and my experiences as an independent critic here are just one more example of why this is so.

As explained in Part One, much of the problem is most Koreans thinking that only those affiliated to a university are “qualified” to write about Korea. Sure, there would be no direct link between that and those reporters mentioned above, but it reduces the already limited pool of people “engaged” with Korea, and like I explain here, their connections with Korea and Koreans have an impact far greater than they may at first appear. Hence, for one, the ultimately unsustainable nature of the Korean Wave compared to its Japanese counterpart, which I’ve discussed in many posts here.

(Image by gyoul)

This reminds me of what GordSellar has described as:

…the standard, near-universal conviction among Koreans that a positive image of Korea must be presented to the world. It goes without saying that, in this sense, the image can only really be positive if it’s presented in terms that will appear positive on the world’s terms, rather than on Korea’s terms.

And the fact that, in Korea:

…on some level, for many Koreans, a discussion is also a promo-op, a chance to represent the nation in a positive light, to make people think well of their nation; or, if it is not that, it devolves into a more basic “defense” of the nation, which is hardly any more useful for finding out people’s real opinions.

Previously I’d thought that the monstrosities in the English-language media presenting news of the “success” of the Korean Wave overseas were as bad as they were because they primarily for a domestic audience; over 95% of the readers of the English-language Korea Herald, for instance, are Koreans. And for sure, that still plays a large role, as too does the fact that most Korean authors on the Korean Wave are well aware that they’re writing propaganda rather than actual news. But seeing as how most Koreans think that Korea must always be presented positively to non-Koreans, but positive in their terms rather than Koreans’, then I’m increasingly convinced many of those authors are genuinely convinced that what they’re writing is what non-Koreans want and will respond positively to. That the results are usually anything but is, I think, a reflection of the self-imposed relative isolation of Korea that I’ve described in these two posts.

It’s a long shot, and for sure there is bad English all over the world, but nothing symbolizes this to me more than the signage at stadiums for the 2002 World Cup here. Billions spent on what in many cases have become little more than white elephants 6 years later, but the designers of things specifically designed for non-Koreans didn’t feel the need to consult even a dictionary, let alone the opinions of an actual non-Korean:

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(Update: There wasn’t really any appropriate place for it in this post, but I did want to mention this factoid often uncritically accepted overseas too. See this article on that too, and thanks to GordSellar for passing it on)

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(Update: It was amusing watching this after midnight, when all the girls were asleep! But however much I like the music, I’m beginning to see how it could be annoying having it come up every time someone visits the blog in the next two weeks, so I’ve wisely made it come up on mute now!)

Something for you to enjoy as I type up the next week’s posts. Sorry about the automatic music as you visit the blog, but it’s easy to turn off, and I think that it makes the screensaver (and blog) much perkier, yes? If you like it, you can download it for yourself by clicking on the menu here.

Found here, which has 12 more interesting screensavers to choose from.

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Don’t worry, I’m not going to rail against the Wondergirls again. But whatever you make of what I’ve said about their clothes and dancing in previous advertisements of theirs, once you hear about their less than stellar academic achievements you can’t help but laugh at them being used as ambassadors for Korean education.

Man, what will they be used for next? The Wondergirls phenomenon has got to stop!

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(Photo by Jeremy Chae. The sign reads “We split up…” )

Introduction: Another Failed Hub 

Is it possible to have such a thing as a Korean Studies hub? California certainly appears to be one, but the state’s huge budget crisis is forcing university administrators to take a hard look at all programs offered, and in fact Korean Studies programs are so limited and unpopular that they’re going to be the first to be cut. Soon, it may be impossible to study even the language in Los Angeles, even though it has the largest population of Koreans outside of Asia.

(Illustration by Aquarius-Campo)

This post isn’t about the cuts; the field of Korea Studies is always going to be overshadowed by Chinese and Japanese Studies anyway (and those fields are going to be feeling the pinch in California too). But the cuts have naturally created quite a stir in the already very small Korea Studies community worldwide, and reading this comment left by Scott Burgeson in that thread has made me realise that the failure to create a hub is not so much on a par with Korea’s abysmal efforts to create various hubs at home, more it’s because of a complete lack of interest in the first place. That lack of interest says a lot about the sort of education that most Koreans value, and also the ultimately self-defeating ways that they choose to present themselves to the world. I’ll discuss the first of those in part one here, and the second in part two, using Scott’s comment as a framework.

Education and Status in Korea

( “Form over Substance” by mlakner)

Scott’s comment is a reply to this part of a comment by Gari Ledyard, a professor of Korean Studies at Columbia University in New York: 

Many people in Korea and in the overseas Korean communities tend to see the existence of Korean Studies in the universities of the world as a validation of their worth and importance, but give little attention to the work we produce.

And here is part of Scott’s reply to that:

As an independent critic unaffiliated with any academic institutions myself, I have also found Prof. Ledyard’s statement above to be true, albeit with slightly different implications as far as my own work is concerned. In my dealings with Korea-based foundations here in Seoul over the years, both public and private, there seems to be little recognition that Western critics covering Korean culture also deserve some support, be it through language-study grants or publication assistance. If you are a critic (or even scholar) but are not with a graduate program somewhere or do not have an advanced degree, you simply are not taken seriously by grant-giving foundations here.

And later:

I feel this is a short-sighted strategy and when you get right down to it, is not really based on lack of financial resources on the part of Korea-based foundations, but is simply based on some sort of irrational or status-linked prejudice that because you do not have an advanced degree behind your name, you are simply not useful as a tool that can be used in the cause of “validating the worth and importance” of Korean international prestige in the way that only institutions of higher learning apparently can (yes, this last statement is meant to be sarcastic).

Scott has made a similar point in a different context here. As he is no doubt fully aware, these dogmatic, outdated associations of “worth and importance” with institutions of higher learning are unfortunately also held by most ordinary Koreans too. It can have positives, like the concerns of university students being taken much more seriously by the public than their Western counterparts, not an insignificant factor behind their large role in the democratization movement in the mid-1980s. But I’ve had the misfortune of learning of the negatives for myself from job interviewers, who have literally laughed in my face upon learning that the MA I was then studying was done online.

( “Jerry, the Inconsiderate Asshole Elephant” by Kevin Lacamera)

But while reading my resume for the first time in the interview room is dammed inconsiderate, especially as it meant I’d completely wasted the 150,000 to 200,000 won I’d spent taking the KTX from Busan and staying overnight for the interview, it’s hardly only in Korea that interviewers that do things like that. So too, is a general disdain for online degrees, even if those interviews did predate Korea’s fake degree scandals (see here and here for more on those). But I’d argue that the style of resumes that Korean employers demand today demonstrate that they’ll still feel the same way about non-traditional qualifications fifteen years from now, even though most of the rest of the world has already moved on.

Koreas’ Lack of Political Correctness

Remember the first resume you wrote after graduating? Mine barely filled half a page. But then an older and wiser friend showed me how to do a ”skills-based” resume, and later some interviewers in New Zealand did indeed ask about and seemed to be impressed by what I’d supposedly learned as president of the environmental group at university, even though all I seem to remember of that time myself was taking advantage of my position to impress naive freshmen. But Korean resumes? They’re forms. Not only do they require things like your D.O.B. and your photo, which as far as I know are illegal for employers to demand in Western countries, but they only have space for the barest of details of your academic history, work experience and TOEIC score and so forth.

(Swiped from here. Hope Michael doesn’t mind.)

Requiring personal details is bad enough in itself. Having said that, when I first came to Korea in 2000, I just thought of it as part and parcel of Korea’s lack of political correctness, in many ways quite refreshing after spending a long time in any Western country. But the longer I stayed here, the more I realised that I’d been confusing a lack of political correctness with basic discrimination.

For sure, there are benefits to providing personal details. For instance, if an employer is after a recent graduate for a position, and would never hire, say, a 30-something instead, then a great deal of time and effort is saved by both the employer and the 30-something by this information being required on the resume (the note at the top of the first resume in the picture reads “나이 너무 많음”, or “too old”). That’s common sense, and rather than being a justification of Korean-style resumes from a Korean (not that it would be diminished if it was), actually I think I first read it in the British The Economist magazine, libertarian to a fault.

But then consider an interview from the The Guardian Daily podcast I heard maybe six months ago, of I think some British senior civil servant responding to criticisms of recent legislation banning discrimination against homosexuals by landlords and religion-based adoption agencies. Some landlords, for instance, were loudly arguing that being forced to accept homosexuals as tenants went against their own morals and/or religious beliefs, to which the interviewee rightly pointed out that nobody would ever publicly consider refusing, say, Black or Indian tenants on similar grounds today, precisely because legislation preventing that was put in place twenty years ago.

Ergo, anti-discrimination legislation, when enforced, does ultimately have effects on the way people think. And so long as it remains legally and socially permissible for Koreans to judge a person’s (and especially a woman’s) suitability for a job based on their appearance and age, then most Koreans are going to have little reason not to.

Status Rather than Genuine Learning

I possibly digress with that last point; the main message I’m trying to get across is that, for Korean employers, all that is important is what you look like, how old you are, where you went to university, and where you have worked previously. This isn’t just a guess either, albeit a reasonable one: Korean friends have confirmed it. Not to put too fine a point on it, nothing else you’ve done in your life means shit.

Note that I said “where” you went to university rather than what you studied there. It’s difficult not to be reminded that this is yet another Korean case where appearances matter more than reality, a consistent theme throughout this blog. I like to use quotes from the 1992 novel Rising Sun to illustrate these, as it was written back when East Asia and especially Japan seemed to be taking over economic dominance of the world, especially after the financial crises of the US in the 1980s (see here and here if those are news), and so it is full of facts and figures that appear alarming to the Western reader, but don’t hold up to objective analysis. For this case, one that came to mind was a scene where main character Lieutenant Peter Smith is surprised to learn that the city which has the most PhD-holders per square kilometre is not Boston, as he guessed, but in fact Seoul. He was suitably impressed. But he would be less so if he knew that 16 years later, Korea has yet to ever appear on a “Top 100″ list of world universities, based on any criteria.

( “Plagiarism” by AMICHAELMURRAY)

In the original draft of this post, I had begun writing a great deal about how this boils down to the status of Korean universities in Korea, and of academics in general, considerably outweighs the minimal amount of learning by students and genuine original research done in and by them, but then I realised that I was merely repeating what I’d already said in my earlier series on Korean education here and here.  Rather than merely rehashing that then, let me focus in this post on one symptom of that: plagiarism. Consider what one of Gord’s students had to say about it, (very leniently) punished for plagiarising an essay by being forced to write an essay about, well, plagiarism:

 …some of the content in the essay was depressing. Especially her comments about how rampant plagiarism is in other classes, and especially her previous major, a science-related major. She described a nightmarish scene of lab reports handed down over many waves of students, identical (verbatim), and the profs, she said, “just don’t care.” And then you end up with totally incompetent juniors or seniors who are leaving school because they have no idea what they’re supposed to know or understand before graduating.

That’s simply no way to fuel creativity, inventiveness, and professionalism. It’s the way to build up a profoundly unstable set of industries, stuck either buying or (yet again) copying technologies from others. You end up having to fake results (Hwang Woo-Suk) or steal them (Go San), but it’s not just that. You end up with people pretty much unequipped to argue about issues, or to pull apart any misrepresentations of the facts that are presented with even a modicum of sophistication or abstraction. You end up with an easily manipulated polity, a society that doesn’t know what it thinks. You end up with endless kneejerk reactions, with dysfunctional democracy, and with a chronic case of anomie.

You can hear similar stories from virtually any ESL teacher working in a Korean university. In short, plagiarism is endemic to Korean academia, and diminishes claims that an education at a prestigious Korean university says anything more about a job applicant than an ability to pass the largely multiple-choice test required to enter that university. But again, like resumes, it is true that the system does have some good points, Wikipedia, for one, saying: 

The great virtue of facts-based testing is its objectivity. Though harsh, the system is believed to be fair and impartial. The use of nonobjective criteria such as essays, personal recommendations, and the recognition of success in extracurricular activities or personal recommendations from teachers and others could open up all sorts of opportunities for corruption. In a society where social connections are extremely important, connections rather than merit might determine entry into a good university. Students who survive the numbing regimen of examinations under the modern system are at least universally acknowledged to have deserved their educational success. Top graduates who have assumed positions of responsibility in government and business have lent, through their talents, legitimacy to the whole system.

Seoul National University Veritas lux mea (Latin: The truth is my light) 진리는 나의 빛

Korea University Liberty, Justice, and Truth 자유·정의·진리

Yonsei University The truth will set you free. (John 8:32) 진리가 너희를 자유케 하리라 (요한복음 8:32)

But still, that is not what universities are for. And on top of what Gord says, let me paraphrase Daniel Pinchbeck in the end to his short story “Dropping Out” in this book:

For one history class, I read the works to Pierre Bourdieu, a French sociologist. Bordiey wrote about the concept of “culture capital” - how cultural experiences acted as a boundary between the elites and the lower classes. I saw how the high price [of entrance to prestigious Korean universities] was a prime example of “culture capital.” The purpose of [those universities] is not education so much as it is a way of signifying one’s membership in a certain class. A degree [from one of those universities] is an indoctrination in high expectations, not hard actualities. I still maintain a sharp awareness of how the machinery of privilege works, how certain universities create an elite that reinforces itself through school connections, and the alumni’s shared, smug belief in their own entitlement.

Pinchbeck was writing about Ivy League schools in the US, but you can see that the Korean education system fits like a glove to the passage, one of its supposed strengths being the nurturing of elites that both expect their high status and are uncritically granted it by average Koreans, regardless of their actual skills for running government or business.

But despite all these negatives, readily apparent to anyone who has spent some time in Korea, the Korean education system is still routinely held up as a model by most Western observers, and the linking of valuable commentary on Korea only to those of status that is a reflection of that system in turn accounts for a great deal of misrepresentation of Korea overseas. I’ll discuss that in part two.

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( “Abandoned” by lydurg)

Sorry to the dozens of people who’ve written comments and/or sent emails in the last few days, but I’ve been struck down with a terrible flu that confines me to bed when I’m not at work, and gives me pounding headaches whenever I so much as think about moving.

Please keep writing and/or sending them though, and I’ll answer them all as soon as I’m able. And keep visiting the blog too, because I’ve already got four posts scheduled to appear this week, wisely written back while I was still coherent.

Sigh. Back to trying not to pass out at my desk. On the plus side though, I’m very grateful that there’s no restrictions on medicines with weak speed pseudoephidrine hydrochloride in Korea…munch munch munch… 

Well, you already knew that Alice was a girl, but then if she doesn’t get you smiling this Sunday morning, then nothing will.

But here’s an ultrasound of her 16 week-old sibling, which the doctor has just told us he’s 90% sure is a girl. Click on the picture for a much bigger image.

At the moment we’re thinking of calling her “Elizabeth Jeong Turnbull”, after my sister’s middle name. What do people think? As I explain here, her first name has to be English ( “Jeong” is my wife’s family name), and I’m a big fan of long, elegant and/or dignified Christian names that can’t be shortened easily. Of course, Elizabeth can easily be shortened to “Liz”, but I’m gambling that she’ll still prefer Elizabeth herself.

Still, my wife and I are still very open to other suggestions. Having said that, anyone that comes up with “Hannah” will be severely punished for their lack of originality…!

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( “Mask” by sam samant,a)

1. Introduction 

Back in the second part of Part Two, I discuss the phenomenon of so many Korean women using whitening make-up, usually to excess and in situations where it is completely inappropriate, like on the treadmill at the gym. It’s easy to sound like I’m exaggerating when I describe how much it is used in Korea, but in fact Korean women’s desire for light skin is so strong that, by the time they reach menopause, they have serious vitamin D deficiencies (actually the worst in the world). Apparently, that’s what three decades of not being able to even cross a sunny street without covering your face does to women.

It sounds inconvenient and unhealthy and, based on what I discuss about the socio-biology of cosmetics in Part Two, anti-instinctive too. Clearly, there must be some strong cultural pressures towards and/or advantages to light skin for Korean women that outweigh these disadvanages. In the comments to that last post GordSellar and SkinnySteve argue that the primary explanation is the historical association of light skins with sedentary, indoor elites, and while I agree that that certainly plays a role, it can’t explain why the practice is so widespread across Northeast Asian countries in particular, nor why the vast majority of the ”ideal”, light-skinned Northeast Asian women in those countries’ medias have undergone such a plethora of cosmetic surgery operations also. I’ll respond to their comments in detail in the third section of this post.

( “Eye of Blue” by ~Dezz~)

Meanwhile, the most notable of those operations is “double-eyelid” surgery, which I variously hear that 60-80% of Korean women have received by their mid-20s, and both argue that the practice either predates contact with Westerners and/or is not reflective of a Korean desire to look Caucasian. Personally, I think it’s too much of a coincidence that the most sought after cosmetic surgery operation by Korean women is for a bodily feature found naturally in much greater numbers amongst Caucasians. By itself it could be coincidence, but combined with: the skin-whitening as explained; the decades of articles in Korean women’s magazines extorting readers to turn their “incorrect” and “flawed” Korean bodies into Caucasian ideal shapes and forms (which I’ll explain momentarily); and finally the numbers of Caucasians in Korean advertisements, (which I’ll cover in section four), then naturally I do think that the primary purpose of whitening make-up and cosmetic surgery by Korean women is indeed for the specific purpose of making them look more Caucasian. As least in 2008.

2. Sources

 (Photo by Scoubi) 

To be fair to Gord and Steve, so far I’ve never mentioned on the blog the fact that, say, Korean women’s magazines do explicitly say that the Korean body is flawed and Caucasian bodies the ideal. There’s very little on the subject in English, especially on Korea (in fact the 2006 article I discuss in the fourth section is the first of its kind), and unless you’re fluent in Korean and are an avid reader of women’s magazines yourself then the only real way of knowing this would be to read the journal articles that I have. I’m not saying that having read them makes me smarter than readers, or that the journal articles themselves aren’t open to interpretation, but…well, that’s what they say, and they do appear to fatally undermine arguments against the links I make between cosmetic surgery, skin-whitening, and a desire to look Caucasian.

Let me (belatedly) provide an example:

The article presents what it considers to be particular features of Korean women - short legs, big face, yellow skin - as problem features that can be corrected by certain types of clothing and colours: ‘For Korean women the best look is the formal tailored suit with padded shoulders. This square shaped suit helps make big faces look smaller and puts the entire body in order’ (italics added). [The author] implies that the imperfect Korean body is disordered but can be put back in order through the tricks of fashion. The body is something to be rearranged so its apparent flaws are concealed or eliminated. These flaws themselves stand out as imperfections because they are features peculiar to Koreans and absent in white models.

That was from page 104 of the 2003 journal article “Neo-Confucian Body Techniques: Women’s Bodies in Korea’s Consumer Society” by Taeyeon Kim (details and abstract here), which was the basis for these posts that I started last month. Since finishing those, I’ve read very similar descriptions of articles in Japanese, Taiwanese and Singaporean women’s magazines too, and because women in those countries also desire light skins and share “Eurasian” ideals of women’s bodies, then I think that basing, say, modern ideals of Japanese women’s skin colours and body forms the white-face painting of geisha is useful and necessary, in a parallel of what commentators said about Korea, but neither the Japanese or Korean hostorical specifics can explain why those ideals are so common to the region.

(Korean Jeon Ji-hyun (전지현). Photo by wongtai231, from this ad)

What does link the region then? Let me adapt the remainder of Taeyeon Kim’s paragraph above, by replacing “Korean” with “East Asian”:

All three elements, the Neo-Confucian woman’s subjectlessness, the perception of East Asian bodies as imperfect, and fashion’s function to re-order the disordered East Asian bodies, make East Asian women’s bodies particularly prone to alterations, rearrangements, and re-creations of the body.

In simple terms, these elements provided a base upon which individual countries’ own culture and histories of the use of cosmetics and so forth built upon. They were important, but I do seriously doubt that those East Asian populations with the means to afford cosmetic surgery operations would have done so quite so readily and in such large numbers without a shared philosophical framework that gave such leeway and encouragement for women to do so.

( “Asian or Caucasian?” by c0nn0r. Anybody know who she is?)

That’s the gist of what my theory, anyway, which I’m in the process of researching and fleshing-out, like I discuss here. But for the remainder of this post, first I’ll address points Gord and Steve raised in much more detail, and after that I’ll discuss the phenomenon of large numbers of Caucasians in Korean advertisements.

3. Response to Comments

Sorry in advance if my chopping and pasting and combining of comments maybe (inadvertently) misrepresents commentators’ arguments; I encourage readers to click on the links to their names and read their comments in full before moving on. Also, much of what I’m quoting below I’ve already responded to earlier (they’re the detritus of many rewrites of this post, sorry), so here I’ll try to concentrate on things I haven’t mentioned already.

Here goes then:

In Part Two, Steve said:

In regards to Korean women trying to whiten their skin in order to look more Caucasian, I used to agree, but as I’ve learned more about Korean history and culture, as well as seeing traditional dance performances, I’ve come to conclude that Korean women have been painting their faces ghostly white for a long, long, time because it makes them look more upper-class in the sense that they’re not out working the fields in the hot sun.

And Gord said:

I also would take issue with the idea that Korean women are (at least consciously) trying to look white. After all, as far as I can tell the double-eyelid obsession was in place BEFORE they met us folk, since some percentage of Koreans are born with it naturally (like my fiancée, for one). Paleness, again, would be a sign of domesticity, and thereby a sign of higher status. (And anyway, there’s lots of anecdotal evidence that even in very remote, non-Westernized societies, there are preferences for paler members of the group…my mom has observed it in many groups living in the bush in Malawi, for example.)

I readily agree that Koreans have historically associated lighter skin with stuck-indoors-all-day elites, and that it may well be a universal phenomenon; I first read of it myself while studying Medieval history when I was fourteen, and if you’re interested you can read a specific chronology here of how tanning in turn became a signifier of the leisured (Caucasian) classes, starting in the early 20th Century. But while it’s difficult to empirically quantify, things like Korean women’s vitamin D deficiencies do point to specifically Koreans (and East Asians) desiring lighter skins to a surprising degree, and I don’t think these historical associations are a sufficient explanation.

I’m very surprised to hear about Koreans being obsessed with double-eyelids before meeting Westerners, especially before modern cosmetic surgery allowed Koreans to get them for themselves (I’ll return to this point in a moment). I’d be the last person to doubt the veracity of anything Gord said, but I’d be very grateful if he or anyone else could point me in the direction of sources on that; after all, if all goes well, I’ll be presenting a paper on it in Fukuoka in September!

(Photo by bowtie614)

Steve continued: 

Nowadays, though, I think that it may be playing a part (like, 30-40%), but I still don’t think attempting to look Caucasian is the motivation. I think a Korean woman might say “I buy face whitening cream to look more beautiful” but highly doubt she’d say, “I buy face whitening cream to look like a white woman.” You still don’t see that many Korean women with dyed blond hair walking around, after all.

Like Gord mentions earlier, I’ve never said that Korean women consciously want to look Caucasian (although I still think that some surely do). Arguing that they do reminds me of the British stand-up comedian Ben Elton making a joke about women thinking about making their faces resemble their aroused vaginas as they put on lipstick in the morning (God, considering he said that in 1985, no wonder he got the reputation that he did!); that they don’t doesn’t mean that it is not ultimately a factor in the origins of the cultural habit, just like I won’t think about the universal desire for humans to distinguish ourselves from other animals when I shave tomorrow morning, or that my tie is actually a phallic symbol when I get dressed after that. Well, actually I will now, in a pink elephants fashion, but you get the idea.

What do they consciously say are their motivations then? Well, Gord says:

I’d say Korean women, at least younger ones, are trying more to look like Hyori or Jeon Ji Hyun or some other icon of Korean femininity than, say, Julia Roberts.

As this old post of Robert Koehler’s demonstrates, that’s certainly true. Steve also says:

As far as the double-eyelid surgery is concerned though, I think if anything that trend has come about from Koreans’ own desire to conform. I read somewhere (actually, I think it was an MTV documentary by Soojin Pak, but I can’t remember the title) that a certain percentage of Asians naturally have the double eyelid, so it’s not as if the feature is alien to Korea/Asia. What they see, though, is all the rich and famous people in the world sporting the double eyelids, combined with the Koreans that already have it, and now the double eyelid is considered trendy and beautiful. Again, it doesn’t strike me as overtly trying to look like a Caucasian person. It seems like Koreans are fascinated with big eyes as well, a feature that tends to creep me out more than anything, and I suspect the double-eyelid surgery may haveus much to do with giving an appearance of having bigger eyes than anything else.

(Photo from PopSeoul!)

But I think the point that average Korean women are whitening their skins and undergoing cosmetic surgery because they want to look like rich and famous Korean women is, to be blunt, irrelevant: it merely changes the focus of our attention, but doesn’t answer the question of why rich and famous Korean women (rather than average Korean women) are doing so. And returning to the point about double-eyelids, I confess that when I first read Gord’s comment that Koreans were obsessed with them before Western contact, personally I doubted it very much. And were it to be true (and for sure, it might be), I still find it too much of a coincidence that that particular body feature, which Caucasians just so happen to naturally have in far greater numbers than East Asians, has become virtually a mandatory requirement for young Korean women.

(Update: Sorry, I just realised that I forgot to respond to Steve’s point about Koreans’ fascination with big eyes. But personally, I don’t think that that fascination is exlusively Korean or even East Asian for that matter. And while I’ll readily admit that big eyes are certainly, say, a prominent feature of manhwa (만화) or manga for instance, that is more to make especially female characters look more youthful rather than a fascination with big eyes per se )

Steve also says:

So, yes, it LOOKS like Korean women are trying to look Caucasian, but that doesn’t mean that’s the real motivation, and I haven’t seen any evidence to really suggest that Korean women are running around trying to meet a beauty standard intended for the whole purpose of appearing like the very Caucasians Korea is continuously trying to keep at arm’s length.

( “Swede Revenge” by cheese bikini)

That last point is very eloquent, and is a good, pithy way to round off a university paper or a newspaper article, let alone a comment in a humble blog. Unfortunately, it’s also completely wrong. It doesn’t take academic study of Korea and/or of Anti-Americanism in Korea and abroad to know that public displays of antipathy towards America and/or Caucasians and/or Foreigners usually go hand in hand with fascination, jealousy, and extensive trade and cultural links, and the stark differences in the way Caucasian and non-Caucasian foreigners in Korea are treated is evidence enough that Koreans don’t want to keep Caucasians “at arm’s length.” When non-Koreans are negatively-portrayed and scapegoated by the Korean media - and I’ll be the first to admit that that happens entirely too often - invariably it’s for domestic political purposes and/or to deflect attention from Korean society’s own flaws.

Finally, Gord says:

There’s no shortage of students who are happy to suggest that contemporary images of Korean femininity are *fueled* by Western icons of “beauty,” but I think it’s worth throwing in a grain of salt, since many of the same students who are talking about this now, were one semester ago regurgitating rather distorted versions of Edward Said’s Orientalism. *shrug*

For sure, and that’s something to bear in mind when reading the next section.

4. Images of Caucasians in Korean Women’s Magazines

(Photo by Mr Rock Man)

Because this post is already rather long, I’ll do little more then outline the conclusions Minjeong Kim and Sharron Lennon come to in their article ”Content Analysis of Diet Advertisements: A Cross-National Comparison of Korean and U.S. Women’s Magazines” (Clothing and Textiles Research Journal, October 2006), and readers can form their own opinions from those.

Because of a lack of prior research (pretty typical for Korean Studies) they write that null hypotheses were developed:

Hypothesis 1: There will be no difference in the percentage of diet advertisements in Korean and U.S. Women’s magazines.

Hypothesis 2: There will be no difference in the percentage of female model’s ethnicity in Korean and U.S. Women’s magazines.

The two Korean magazines they used were Women Sense/우먼센스 and Jubu Life/주부생활, and the two U.S. magazines were Red Book and Good Housekeeping. You can read details of the hypotheses and methods of the samples from pp. 351-353, and details of the results from pp. 353-359.

 (Source)

Hypothesis 1 isn’t relevant to this post, but it is to Parts One and Two, and is still very interesting.

In a nutshell, Kim and Lennon found that the hypothesis was false, and the percentage of diet ads in Korean women’s magazines was significantly higher than the percentage in U.S. women’s magazines (11.8% to 3.5%), and also that they tended to promote passive dieting methods, reinforcing the idea that buying their advertised product will solve weight problems with no effort required on the part of the user. Unfortunately, most of those claims are completely false, but because diet products are technically considered supplements in Korea, they are not regulated by the strict guidelines used for pharmaceutical products. Even in the rare cases that companies are prosecuted by the Korean Consumer Protection Board, penalties are minimal and companies often merely close down, reopen under a new name, and go on selling the same product with a different name.

Shocked? Unfortunately asbsent or ineffective regulations are a fact of life here, as things like almost all Korean Vitamin C drinks containing carcinogenic benzene and 88% of Korean organic food is completely fake demonstrate.  Not only is little done about this, but I recall that in that benzene case above the KFDA wasn’t allowed to mention the names of the three vitamin C drinks that didn’t have benzene…how ironic that Koreans have to turn to a Chinese news source to find out what they’re drinking.

In such circumstances, it’s no wonder that impressionable young girls take the messages of dieting product companies to heart: as Kim and Lennon report (p. 357), in 2002 half of Korean high school girls were anemic because of dieting-induced malnutrition, and were considered unqualified to give blood.

(Source)

Hypothesis 2 was also found to be false: U.S. magazines had larger percentages of White than non-White models (84.9% vs. 15.1%), whereas Korean magazines had much more equal percentages of White and non-White models (52.3% vs. 47.7%).

In Kim and Lennon’s words:

Instead of having predominantly non-White (Korean) female models in Korean magazines, White female models were as common as non-White models. The number of White models was actually greater than the number of non-White models. The presence of White female models in Korean women’s magazines to this extent suggests that the Western cultural ideal for women is ubiquitous and widely accepted among Korean women. Korean magazines seem to portray and promote Western feminine beauty as ideal and subsequently pressure Korean women to achieve the Western ideal. Subsequently, this indicates that the Western cultural beauty is not limited to Western countries anymore but has gone global. (p. 358)

Naturally I agree: it’s certainly telling that Korean women’s magazines have more Caucasians than Koreans in them. But it’s not unreasonable to argue that Kim and Lennon are making too much of a conceptual leap, without also considering the extent to which having Caucasian models in advertisements is a sign of wealth, class, and of a country having “made it.” Not coincidentally, the first time Caucasian models were even allowed in Korean advertisements was shortly before Korea was admitted to the OECD in 1996. As Taeyeon Kim (referenced earlier) explains:

 A casual browser of Korean women’s magazines might observe that many of the models or settings in the advertisments are Euro-American or look Euro-American. This image has become ever more pervasive. In June 1994, changes in laws allowed the Korean advertising industry to use foreign models and celebrities, which quickly led to a sharp increase in the use of foreign models to sell domestic wares. No longer were only foreign products sold to Koreans with a foreign face, now even domestic products were marketed to Koreans by the likes of Cindy Crawford, Meg Ryan, and Claudia Schiffer. (p. 103)

(Photo by Mmmonica)

She still comes to much the same conclusions as Kim and Lennon though:

While there does seem to have been a gradual increase in recent years of Korean models in domestic advertisements, these Korean models nearly all have features that have already been reconstructed to meet the prevailing standards of beauty which, if not totally white, are at least a melding of Asian and Western features, the ideal encapsulated by the increasingly popular ‘Eurasian’ look. Many of the articles and beauty tips in these magazines function on the assumption that the Korean body is flawed while the white body is the standard norm.

I don’t read Korean women’s magazines, but I have noticed the virtual absence of Korean women in lingerie advertisements here (it’s difficult not to notice, given the number of ads on subways and cable TV here). Or to be more precise, the fact that Korean models in them will almost invariably be fully clothed (a very rare exception below), but Caucasian (usually Russian) models will more usually be wearing only the lingerie. Sometimes in the same infomercial you’ll have Russian models in their lingerie but the Korean models fully clothed, holding the lingerie in a hanger. Seeing those for the first time years ago, it was difficult not to conclude that they reflected some pretty warped notions of Korean feminine virtue and foreign lasciviousness. 

(Photo by menacingPanda)

To be sure, many Koreans do indeed have some warped notions of Korean feminine virtue and foreign lasciviousness. But now I think I was mistaken, and realising that the Russian models are signifiers of “developed country status” makes their numbers and their sharp distinctions with Korean models in ads more explicable. So despite what the two journal articles I’ve quoted at length in this post say, the mere presence of Caucasians in Korean advertisements certainly does not necessarily mean that Koreans have embraced and aspire to Western ideals of feminine beauty. But having said that, I do find the overall weight of evidence compelling.

And on that note, because I sense I’m beginning to lose the thread of things at this late stage of a much too long post, I’ll put this subject to rest for now!

Update 3: Years ago, Robert Koehler mentioned the Korean model Jang Yun-ju (장윤주), one of the few Korean models “that nobody will ever accuse her of cutting up her face to look white”. In a less academic phase of the blog (hey, we’ve all been there), I linked to many pictures of her here.

Update 2: Great, just great. I type all that, and only then do I discover this post of Michael Hurt’s on the same topic.

Update 1: By coincidence, KoreaBeat has just posted a link to photos with the theme “Korean Girl Discovers the Joys of Whiteness”.

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