Life Itself is Good Enough . . .

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Over at the Marmot's Hole, the topic of foreigners teaching in Korea was broached, and a number of commentators offered their experiences, a few of these experiences sounding quite dreadful, which then became a subject for debate and name-calling, but I went ahead and offered my own experience and thoughts anyway:

I had tenure at one university here in Korea and lost it when the university reinterpreted its rules to say that no foreigner could have tenure. I learned from a couple of Korean professors there that the reinterpretation came about because the Chinese language department wanted to get rid of a tenured Chinese woman and replace her with a Korean.

I was sorry to lose tenure and its perks, but I had never taken that status there very seriously because I thought little of a tenured spot that would be awarded before a professor had been proven a scholar by publications. The irony was that by the time I left that university, I was publishing above what was expected. I actually deserved tenure at the time it was taken away.

There is obviously massive fraud in Korea's universities. No one can deny that when we've seen three education ministers in the past decade admit to plagiarizing their doctoral thesis. But the scholarly standards are rising, and I personally know several exceptional scholars here -- and I mean Koreans -- some of them brilliant, even profound.

My life here in Korea has not been easy, but life never was. I've been on my own since 18, no financial support from family because they had none to provide, and I can sincerely state that my life here has treated me better than life anywhere I've lived. I have a standard of living that satisfies me, and my academic situation is acceptable. I'll never be the great scholar I wanted to be, but that's not entirely Korea's fault; rather, it's more my own for not following an orthodox academic path in the States and not sounding politically correct enough in my opinions to be inoffensive.

I therefore make do. Teach as best I can. Publish what I can. Not expect too much. Not give up in misfortune. Stand it like a man.

As one can see, my experience was unfortunate, but not nearly so dreadful as "The Ghastly Ordeal of Timothy Cavendish"! Nevertheless, one commentator, who meant well and seemed to be expressing concern, asked if I could sleep easily in Korea and be at peace with myself after my experience. I replied:

At peace? Well, not entirely, but as I grow older, I see my own faults more and more clearly, and I often find myself -- rather than others -- more to blame for my lack of success. With greater humility than I used to have, I try to handle the misfortunes and challenges that come my way.

On the more positive side, I have a wonderful wife, a Korean woman I met in Germany . . . on a train. She'd been there nearly ten years, we finished our doctorates at the same time, we got married, we saw a bit more of the world, she came close to being blown up in Jerusalem, but we eventually made our home safely in Korea because we had two kids and I needed a steady job rather than a succession of postdocs.

With my wife's language skills, I've gotten involved in the world of translating and have had the privilege of meeting Park Wan-suh and Ch'oe Yun, among others. My own writing has improved through this translation work, and I've recently written and published a novella, to no great acclaim, but such such is life. Those interested in a peek can preview it here. I'll keep trying.

And Korea is improving. I can now find good coffee, good wine . . . even good beer. Also a variety of food. Plus, there's still a lot to experience in this strange country.

Coming originally from the Arkansas Ozarks, where I did my business in an outhouse till I was five or six, slept above a dirt floor in a basement till I was about ten, and did rural-type manual jobs till I left for university at eighteen, I know that life can be a lot worse, so I can live with the way things are, and the way things are tending, here in Korea . . .

By "worse," I meant harder and poorer, not worse as a more general characterization of Ozark life, for there are many good things about growing up in the Ozarks. At any rate, the commentator then observed that I sounded a bit saddened by my Korea experience. I thought not, and reminded:

Don't miss the optimistic note in "the way things are tending" . . . but I understand your point, and I admit to lowered expectations about my career.

I do, however, expect to leave a handful of good stories behind . . . though if certain calculations concerning the Higgs Boson are correct, the universe will someday self-destruct by giving birth to a new universe, implying that any stories I write will be lost forever.

Now, that's utter hopelessness . . .

I intended that as humor, of course, just in case someone were to take me too much in earnest. I mean, our universe dies giving birth to a new one, and there's something grand about that, something higher than a shivering "heat death" or a miserly implosion.

Heavy Disappointment

Deuterium

(Image from Wikipedia)

I sometimes feel disappointment at not obtaining a university position in religious studies, but that's probably at least partly my fault for taking my own sweet irrecoverable time about finishing my doctorate . . . though even more due to my stubbornly following an unconventional path toward foreseeable failure.

Boundlessly worse, perhaps, is the disappointment suffered by one who has greater promise . . . yet blocked opportunities through no personal fault. David Harris, of St. Anthony's College, Oxford University, writes of his father's disappointments in "Secrets of a Disappointed Life" (International Herald Tribune, June 21, 2010). Sent off from Berlin at age eleven to an aunt for safekeeping in Vienna when Hitler came to power in 1933, Eric Harris found early refuge in science but had to give up that interest after the Anschluss in 1938. He never spoke of his scientific dreams to his son, David, who only found the remarkable documentary evidence of his father's scientific talent in a box left behind by his father after dying in 1998:

It contained a diploma, written in German. My father had been awarded an honorary doctorate, in 1975, by the Institute of Chemistry in Vienna. The degree was presented for his work at the institute from 1936 to 1938 on "synthesis of the heavy hydrogen atom." As he was born in 1920, he was cited for cutting-edge research pursued between the ages of 16 and 18!

No one knows, of course, what might have happened in Mr. Harris's life, had Hitler not come to power. He probably wouldn't have found opportunity to synthesize any deuterium outside of Vienna. He might not even have gotten involved in science at all. Or he might have started off in science but lost interest and pursued an utterly different path anyway. Or he might have encountered an unexpected barrier even absent the rise of National Socialism. Not one of us has satisfactory control over our lives.

I used to imagine that I could achieve anything if I put my mind to it, but that was before I put my mind to it and discovered that what I had imagined was, in a real sense, merely imaginary.

But I never had Mr. Eric Harris's genius, so his disappointment must have been harder to bear, though we'll perhaps never know since his son tells us that "about himself, . . . he said characteristically little."

Unlike me with my blog . . .

Regina Spektor . . . and speculations

Regina Spektor

ca. 2004

(Image Borrowed from the Universe)

Since I'm currently swamped in the currentless swamp of student grading, I just can't remain constantly serious, so I investigate music that I've not previously listened to . . . such as Regina Spektor's song "Us," from the unbearable lightness of Soviet Kitsch:

"Us"

They made a statue of us
And put it on a mountain top
Now tourists come and stare at us
Blow bubbles with their gum
Take photographs have fun, have fun

They'll name a city after us
And later say it's all our fault
Then they'll give us a talking to
Then they'll give us a talking to
Because they've got years of experience
We're living in a den of thieves
Rummaging for answers in the pages
We're living in a den of thieves
And it's contagious
And it's contagious
And it's contagious
And it's contagious

We wear our scarves just like a noose
But not 'cause we want eternal sleep
And though our parts are slightly used
New ones are slave labor you can keep

We're living in a den of thieves
Rummaging for answers in the pages
We're living in a den of thieves
And it's contagious
And it's contagious
And it's contagious
And it's contagious

They made a statue of us
They made a statue of us
The tourists come and stare at us
The sculptor's marble sends regards
They made a statue of us
They made a statue of us
Our noses have begun to rust
We're living in a den of thieves
Rummaging for answers in the pages
Were living in a den of thieves

And it's contagious
And it's contagious
And it's contagious
And it's contagious

I listened several times to the song on video, watching Ms. Regina Spektor's idiosyncratic antics, and then told a friend:

I saw this video yesterday . . . and thought of . . . the "den of thieves" line that encapsulates our current times. Oddly, though Spektor's been around since 2001, I'd never listened to her music, but maybe because I've not been around the US for over 20 years now.

I look at young Regina in the video and wonder if I had made better decisions would my [academic] life be better? I had a great junior year at Baylor, but after that year, I made a series of bad decisions that . . . affected my career. Those decisions reflected my character, which in turn reflected the culture of the place where I grew up. I was independent and opinionated and disdainful of consequences. That worked well enough in the Ozarks, where people didn't have careers anyway. The years have brought some perspective, and I look back on arguments that I've had [with other scholars] that did little to further my career . . . .

I suppose that some people could criticize others even more harshly than I have and yet prosper, but those people are smarter than I . . . . Now, I expect little from my career. I'm not depressed about that. I just have to pursue my scholarly interests and . . . my job. Things are not so bad, actually . . . for a den of thieves.

And one never knows what the future might have in store.

That's both a hope and a fear, of course. I'm in the odd position of seeing my scholarly life work out fairly well even as my academic career stalls, for I've managed to publish on John's Gospel, Gnosticism, Beowulf, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, Piers Plowman, Don Quixote, Paradise Lost, Pride and Prejudice, Natural Symbols (Mary Douglas), The Clash of Civilizations (Samuel Huntington), Al-Qaeda's 9/11 attacks, the future of Christianity, Korean identity, and a smattering of other things.

But who reads -- or even cares about -- scholarly articles, anyway?

"Expat Living"

Tempranillo 2006

Candidato

(Image from quaffit.com)

I don't usually post more than once per day, but I'm making an exception today, for two reasons, both related to my life as an expatriate.

1. As an expat living in Korea and having the good fortune to work in Seoul as a university professor doing the sort of research and teaching that I enjoy and even being decently reimbursed for doing so, I have just enough time and funds to indulge in a few, simple epicurean delights and justify these as essential to my ongoing self-education in things cultural.

My lovely wife, Sun-Ae, ensures that I not invest too much of my money or time in this pursuit, which entails that she look for good buys of, e.g., excellent wine -- and since she's currently reading the Korean translation of the Japanese oenophile manga series Kami no Shizuki (The Drops of God), she will soon know far more about wine than I.

Maybe she already does, for she recently purchased a Tempranillo 2006 (Candidato) for less than 10,000 won (less than 10 dollars), and this Spanish wine -- full-bodied with a fruity aroma -- simply amazed me by how excellent it is. I'd consider it a good buy at two or three times the price.

Definitely one pleasure of expat living...

2. Speaking of expat living, the Korea Herald has started a new section titled "Expat Living." The moving force behind this is Matthew Lamers, whose articles have been appearing in the Herald's pages for the past year or so. Lamers has rounded up a number of expats living and working in Korea and asked them to write regular columns for the Herald's new "Expat Living" section.

I mentioned this before and promised to call attention to it again at an appropriate time. Well, that time has come. The section started this second week of January 2008 and appears in the Tuesday (8th) and Wednesday (9th) editions of the Korea Herald -- but also at the paper's online site (leftside links, "Expat Living"). My column appears next week, on January 16th, and will be titled "Expatiate," unless I hear differently.

Lamers has managed to persuade a number of Korea-based bloggers to contribute, many of whose blog entries are already at a professional level, so this new section of the Korea Herald could turn out very interesting.

Give "Expat Living" a look, and take the time to tell us if we're writing what you're looking for (not that I'll change, mind you...).

Hark the Herald Anglos Sing...

El Greco, "Annunciation" (1575)

A Herald Angel?

(Image from Wikipedia)

"I'll tell thee everything I can; There's little to relate."

Actually, there's a little to relate. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but I've got "nine lives, baby," so I've survived my recent, curious postings and have something to relate, little though it may yet be . . .

On November 22, I received an email from a certain Matthew Lamers, who writes for the Korea Herald newspaper, and he said:

Good'day. I am with the Korea Herald newspaper. I was going through your website. I am the editor of the expat section, which we are planning to expand in the near future. Would you be interested in writing a column for the expat section of the newspaper? If you agree in principal, we can more forward from here as there are a lot of details to go over.

The Korea Herald being the principal English-language newspaper in Korea, I was, in principle, ready to say yes, but I wanted to come clean with the man first, so I replied:

Thanks for the surprising email. I would be interested, but I'd need to see the details . . . . I should let you know up front that I'm no expert on Korea. Despite my nearly 10 years here, I've not learned the language (due partly to my busy schedule but more probably to my inability). Many, many younger bloggers have excellent Korean skills these days and know far more about Korea than I.

My wife is Korean, as I've mentioned on my blog, and our two children are more Korean than American (despite my best efforts), so I do encounter Korean culture and thinking daily, but not to the extent that other expats do.

Just to let you know since I assume that you'll need to weed out the . . . well, the weeds.

Mr. Lamers wrote back quickly with details and reassurances:

Mr. Hodges, thanks for the fast reply.

The number of articles, or columns, would more or less depend on how many you think you would have time to write. Length is also your call -- around 600 words is good. The new Expat section will begin in January. I say column because this would give you much more leeway in terms of writing style. For example, you could use first-person, but not too much, and you wouldn't have to follow the inverse-pyramid structure that straight-up "articles" are limited to. Basically be yourself -- without using too many "I's" . . . .

I like your writing and I'm looking for something informative, witty but still professional sounding -- so that, actually, is the challenge. Regarding your topics of coverage, most of my columnists cover one specific area dealing with expats -- ex. "Matt Lamers on pop-culture." But for yourself, I wouldn't necessarily ask you to write about the expat community (as I do with my other writers), but I'd ask you to write something interesting, witty, that the expat community would be interested in reading. So it's not much of a problem that you're not an expert on Korea or that you don't speak Korean (I don't either, and I'm married too).

Maybe a William Safire-like column on language?

More on the project: I am trying to assemble the best writers in Korea. It is an exciting project because this is the first time foreigners have been given the chance to have their own section in a daily newspaper in Korea. There is a lot of potential simply because there isn't anything now in Korea's newspapers that is dedicated to the foreign community on a daily basis . . . .

Well there you have it. Please let me know if we have something here you might be interested in pursuing.

Well, that sounded very interesting, and also challenging, especially the part about me getting to be myself in 600 words. Can I really be myself in 600 words per week?

I guess that we'll all find out, for I'll either succeed or fail in full public view.

I wasn't planning to announce this news, but Mr. Lamers wrote to me (and others) yesterday to inform us that the "Cat's out of the bag" on this new section to the Korea Herald:

I had been asking writers not to mention Expat Life on their websites, but now seems like as good a time as ever to let the cat out of the bag. We will not officially announce the new section until a couple days before its first installment, but feel free to tell anyone you know, or talk about it on your websites from today.

Given leave to do so, I'm talking about it on my website . . . obviously.

Now, I'm not sure that I have many expat-in-Korea folks reading my Gypsy Scholar blog, but any of you who may be that sort of reader might also be interested in checking out the Korea Herald's particularly 'anglophone' Expat Life section sometime in January. As for the exact date, I haven't yet been informed, but I imagine that the editors will want to inaugurate that new section with the new year, so I'm expecting an early start.

I'll keep everyone posted on this...