Forbidden Relations: South Korean Incest Dramas and the Crisis of Interrupted Kinship Sandra Kim California State University, Los Angeles introduction he incest taboo is a particularly intriguing angle from which to examine the theme of biologism and identity, as it involves a preoccupation not only with biological kinship but also with the function of prohibitions in creating social norms. The entan- Tglement of identity with biological kinship becomes even more complicated when the incest taboo manifests as a recurring cultural trope within the context of a specific ethnonational his- tory. In contemporary South Korea, for example, there is a peculiar prevalence of incest dramas in popular culture. More than twenty South Korean television dramas and films in the past fifteen years alone involve the possibility of an incestuous relationship as a subtext. Autumn Tale (2000) and Winter Sonata (2002), the television serials that ostensibly launched the “Korean Wave” in broader Asia, as well the cult classic and critically acclaimed filmOldboy (2003), are among the numerous productions in which key characters who at one point or another are thought to be bio- logically related fall in love.1 An Internet search of the term “Korean incest drama” yields numer- ous K-drama (Korean drama) discussion boards and blog posts devoted to the topic. A Google search yields results such as “K-dramas in Which the Lovers Might Be Siblings,” “I love my oppa/ ge ge: the charm of incest dramas,” “Fauxcest Is the Best!” “Tree of Heaven: Tears, heartbreak, 1 Along with Autumn Tale, Winter Sonata, and Oldboy, other television shows and films that feature incest subtexts (to varying degrees) are My Girl, Tree of Heaven, What Star Are You From?, Snowman, Stairway to Heaven, Bad Love, Autumn in My Heart, Damo, Ireland, 90 Days: Time to Love, That Winter the Wind Blows, Hotel King, You’re Beautiful, One Fine Day, Sopyonje, The Petal, Mother, Pietà, and Moebius. I do not believe that this is an exhaustive list, as there may be others of which I am not aware. This work was funded in part by The Korea Foundation. I would like to thank Viet Thanh Nguyen, Akira Mizuta Lippit, Youngmin Choe, and David Palumbo-Liu for their very helpful feedback on the manuscript at various stages in its development. 2 occasion yakuza, doom, incestuous siblings. All in a day’s work for Korea.” Fans repeatedly ask, “Incest scares are very, very common in Korean drama—why?”2 In this essay I will attempt to answer this question from a historical point of view that takes into account how tropes originate, circulate, and evolve. I will show how the now-familiar incest trope in South Korean cultural productions has roots in the historical material conditions created by war and national division. Geopolitical and civil conflicts devastated the Korean peninsula—destroying homes, dis- placing masses of people, and separating family members from one another. Though Korea was freed from Japanese rule as one result of World War II, national independence was complicated by American and Russian occupations on either side of an arbitrary partition at the 38th paral- lel. In 1948 the division was formalized along Cold War ideological lines, setting into motion the systematic purging of political dissidents, mass killings, and floods of refugees. By the time of the Korean War (1950–53), the “civil war” had very much become a gruesome international conflict between Cold War superpowers. The peninsula was thoroughly decimated by relentless, ruth- less warfare. Indiscriminate napalm raids and combat strategies of “saturation” and “area” bomb- ing were so destructive that one reporter described “the countless ruined villages” as “the most terrible and universal mark of the war on the Korean landscape.”3 General Emmett O’Donnell, chief of Bomber Command, reported to the 1951 Senate hearings that “the entire, almost the entire Korean Peninsula is just a terrible mess. Everything is destroyed. There is nothing stand- ing worthy of the name.”4 Three and a half to four million soldiers and civilians were killed on both sides; the ethnic Koreans who died constituted 10–15 percent of the entire national popu- lation at the time.5 In February 1952 the UN released figures estimating that “one out of every nine men, women and children in North Korea had been killed. In the South, 5,000,000 people had been displaced and 100,000 children were described as ‘unaccompanied.’”6 Families were literally separated by these conditions: those who could not cross the 38th parallel together, those who got separated within the seas of refugees, siblings who were orphaned and then not adopted together, and so on. And the war continues to this day. There was no peace treaty—only a military armistice signed in 1953 that established the Korean Demilitarized Zone. The DMZ became the de facto new border between North and South Korea and is today the most heavily militarized border in the world. The untold numbers of families who were separated during the chaos of massive internal migration—which was complicated further by the closed, impenetrable DMZ border and by considerable international refugee migration and adoption—created a remarkable situ- ation of sociocultural trauma. In 1983 the Korean Broadcasting System (KBS) in South Korea hosted a televised “campaign to reunite ten million divided families,”7 which attracted so much interest that what began as a ninety-five-minute program turned into more than 453 hours of 2 http://mihansa.net/obstacles-love-romance-korean-drama/. 3 Walter Sullivan, quoted in Marilyn B. Young, “Korea: The Post-war War,”History Workshop Journal 51 (2001): 116. 4 Ibid., 113. 5 Tobias Hübinette, “The Orphaned Nation: Korea Imagined as an Overseas Adopted Child in Clon’sAbandoned Child and Park Kwang-su’s Berlin Report,” Inter-Asia Cultural Studies 6, no. 2 (2005): 231. 6 Young, “Korea,” 116. 7 Foley disputes the widely accepted number of “ten million” separated families in Korea. He shows that it is nearly impossible to calculate the precise number given the sheer chaos on the Korean peninsula from 1945 to 1953. See James A. Foley, Korea’s Divided Families: Fifty Years of Separation (London: Routledge-Curzon, 2003). kim | forbidden relations 3 live broadcasts in which 100,952 applicants participated, resulting in as many as 10,189 reunited relatives, of whom some were international adoptees.8 These experiences of separation are on such a large scale and have been ongoing for such a prolonged period of time that they have created on the peninsula the shared experience of a crisis of interrupted kinship.9 Korean film director Park Chan-wook has noted the widespread sociocul- tural impact of the tragedy of division on everyday life: Right, it happens everywhere in daily life. So when we live our lives without a care in the world, we can always encounter someone directly related to that tragedy, and through the relationship with that person, the tragedy touches us, too. In that way, I come to take on what someone else used to carry by himself. The tragedy of the Korean division, which seemed to have nothing to do with [the film]Geumja (Lady Vengeance), comes down to her with the gun the old [North Korean] spy hands her. This is the network that makes up society.10 There are several aspects of Park’s statement that are significant for understanding how the plague of separations created by the war’s devastation on the peninsula has had long-lasting consequences that are experienced on the everyday scale. In a small, densely populated country like South Korea—which is about one-fifth the size of California but with a current population of over fifty million—it was impossiblenot to “always encounter someone directly related to that tragedy” of separated families in the decades following the Korean War. For the first generations after the war, it was entirely typical for a Korean to have several relatives missing or in North Korea and to have no idea where they were and whether they were alive or not. Compound this experience with the also typical experience of knowing many other families in the same situation. This brief mental exercise reveals the phenomenology of how the interpersonal nature of tragedy on such a massive scale, through exponential multiplication, becomes a thoroughly collective experience of historical trauma. It is the lived experience of a collective crisis of interrupted kin- ship. How does such a collective tragedy manifest itself in culture? The recurring trope of the incest scare in cultural productions is, in my view, one manifestation of the crisis of interrupted kinship in the social imaginary. The mass displacements of war and the installation of the 38th parallel’s DMZ literally created social conditions in which relatives were separated from or lost to each other, making possible the kind of trope that hinges on what could happen if one met a long-lost relative without knowing him or her as such. The circulation of the incest trope in South Korea is the imbrication of the collective experience of national division with the individual-in- tersubjective experience of literal separation from family members. the other side of dark remembrance: forced separation and forbidden relations My analysis centers on an award-winning 1983 novella written by Lee Kyun-Young: The Other Side of Dark Remembrance (TOSODR). I see this text as a literary precursor11 to the more recent 8 Ibid., 85–86. This program was recently dramatized in the 2014 filmOde to My Father (국제시장, literally International Market). 9 “Interrupted kinship” is the key principle for the larger project I am currently working on. 10 Interview with Park Chan-wook, “Sympathy for the Old Boy,” trans.