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This most beloved of traditional Korean folk tales embodies the themes of unshakeable devotion and its ultimate reward for a happy ending quite rare in Korean romances.
Come snuggle close now, my little rice cakes, and I’ll tell you one of Korea’s most beloved love stories. It’s the tale of a brave girl named Chunhyang, whose name means ‘Spring Fragrance.’ And oh, what a wonderful girl she was.
Long ago, in the town of Namwon, Chunhyang lived with her mother in a small but cheerful house near the hills. Chunhyang was so lovely that people often stopped talking when she walked by. But the truly special thing about her was not her beauty. It was her cleverness, her kindness, and her courage. Why, she could compose poetry faster than a scholar could spill his tea.
One warm spring day, the governor’s son, a young scholar named Yi Mongryong, rode into the countryside to admire the flowers instead of studying like he was supposed to. Young men in stories are always doing that sort of thing.
As Mongryong wandered through the hills, he looked down and saw Chunhyang swinging beneath the blossoms. Her skirt floated through the air like flower petals dancing in the wind.
Well.
The poor boy fell in love so quickly his heart probably somersaulted right into his throat.
Mongryong begged to meet her, and soon the two were talking beneath the trees. Now Mongryong thought himself quite impressive with his elegant poems and noble manners, but Chunhyang answered every clever thing he said with something even wiser and funnier.
That was when he realized he was in serious trouble.
Because once a young man discovers a smart girl who can outtalk him, his heart is usually finished.
The two spent many happy days together, walking among the flowers and speaking of dreams and poetry and the future. Before long, they secretly promised themselves to each other as husband and wife beneath the moonlight.
But happiness, my little dumplings, can be as slippery as a fish in a stream.
Soon Mongryong’s father received orders to move to Seoul. The family had to leave at once. Mongryong promised Chunhyang, ‘Wait for me. I’ll pass the royal examinations and return for you.’
Now Chunhyang could have cried and begged and clung to his sleeves. But she was not that kind of girl. She simply smiled bravely and told him she would wait.
After Mongryong left, a new magistrate arrived in Namwon.
And ooohhh… this man was rotten all the way down to his toenails.
He was cruel to the poor, greedy with taxes, and puffed up like a toad in silk robes. When he heard about beautiful Chunhyang, he demanded that she come entertain him.
But Chunhyang bowed politely and said, ‘I already belong to my husband.’
Well! The magistrate became so angry his face swelled purple like an overripe persimmon. He ordered Chunhyang thrown into prison.
Even there, cold and hungry and frightened, Chunhyang would not betray Mongryong. Day after day she remained faithful, though many people told her to surrender.
But courage is not loud, children. Sometimes courage is simply refusing to bend.
Meanwhile, far away in Seoul, Mongryong studied harder than he had ever studied in his life. At last he passed the royal examinations and became a secret royal inspector.
Now that was a very exciting job indeed.
The king would send inspectors disguised as ordinary travelers to uncover corrupt officials. Rather like sneaky grandmothers who quietly inspect kitchens for unwashed dishes.
So Mongryong returned secretly to Namwon wearing ragged clothes so no one would recognize him. As he walked through the town, he heard terrible stories about the cruel magistrate.
Then he learned about Chunhyang.
How she had suffered.
How she had stayed loyal to him through everything.
And oh, his heart nearly broke in two.
That very evening the magistrate held a grand feast full of music and rich foods and boastful laughter. The magistrate stuffed himself greedily while musicians played and servants hurried about.
Then suddenly, a royal command was announced.
The shabby traveler stepped forward.
And in one great shining moment, Mongryong revealed himself as the secret royal inspector.
The magistrate’s face turned pale as tofu soup.
All his crimes were exposed before the whole town. He was arrested immediately, and everyone rejoiced to see him dragged away.
Then Mongryong rushed to the prison where Chunhyang waited.
Poor Chunhyang looked thin and tired, but when she saw him standing there, her eyes shone brighter than lanterns on festival night.
At last the two were reunited.
This time Mongryong honored Chunhyang openly as his true wife before everyone, and the people admired her not merely for her beauty, but for her bravery, loyalty, and strength.
And that, my sweet little dumplings, is why the Tale of Chunhyang has been loved for hundreds and hundreds of years.
Because real love is not only flowers and moonlight and handsome scholars reciting poetry.
Real love is keeping your promises.
Real love is being brave when things become difficult.
And real love, perhaps most importantly of all, is finding someone wise enough to see your true worth.
Now close those sleepy eyes, and dream of spring blossoms floating through the hills of old Korea.
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