The Tale of the Recluse Eom엄처사전 · 嚴處士傳

The Tale of the Recluse Eom

This is the complete English version of MeKorean’s modern Korean retelling of the main scenes. It is not an official ITKC translation or a line-by-line scholarly translation. Consult the Classical Chinese original for its precise wording.

Eom Chungjeong came from Gangneung. His father died early, leaving the household so poor that Chungjeong gathered firewood and carried water himself to make a living. Caring for his mother came first. He remained by her side morning and evening; if she was even slightly unwell, he would not fully loosen his clothes to sleep. He prepared her food himself. When she wanted mountain birds to eat, he took a net and a pole coated with birdlime to catch them for her.

His mother wanted him to study and sit the civil service examinations. Chungjeong followed her wishes and worked all the harder. He wrote poetry and fu, or rhapsodic prose, and was selected several times in regional examinations. Eventually he passed the sama examination and made his mother proud. His learning extended beyond the writing needed for examinations. He read widely and studied the principles of the Book of Changes and the Doctrine of the Mean with particular depth. Writing and scholarship occupied the center of his life.

Then his mother became gravely ill. Chungjeong prayed to heaven that he might suffer in her place, but he lost her nonetheless. His grief was so deep that for a time he could barely eat or drink, and he grew so weak that he needed a staff to rise. After the funeral he lived beside her grave, eating porridge, through the three years of mourning. By recording this long period of grief, the account conveys how deeply he cared for her.

Once mourning ended, his friends urged him to take the examinations again. Chungjeong wept. He had taken them for his elderly mother's sake; why should he go now? Even if he rose to high office, he could not bear the thought that she would no longer share his happiness. His grief left him unable to continue speaking, and his friends did not raise the subject again.

Later in life, he moved to Ugye. He chose a secluded place among mountains and streams, built a thatched house, and lived as though he would spend the rest of his days there. His poverty continued, but he did not constantly complain. He was gentle and generous with others and avoided needless quarrels. Those who met him found him sincere and calm. Yet not being harsh with people did not mean that he accepted everything they did.

When judging right and wrong in the village, or deciding what to accept and what to decline, he was firm. He did not let people cross those boundaries lightly and acted according to what he believed was right. The villagers respected him for it. When teaching the young, he spoke first of loyalty and filial devotion. He did not fill his conversation with ways to gain fame and wealth.

The quiet man changed when he read history. On reaching questions of why a country was well governed or fell into disorder, or what distinguished upright people from corrupt ones, he expressed his views with force. At the deaths of figures who had remained loyal to their principles, he closed the book and wept. His prose was concise and clear in purpose; his poetry had strength and beauty. People recited more than a hundred of his works, but he did not devote himself to winning a literary name.

The court too heard of him and held him in esteem. Twice he was offered the office of jaerang, yet he did not take it up. After losing his mother, he had turned away from advancement; he would not readily return simply because society reopened the road. The record does not say that no one recognized his worth. People did, but their recognition never brought his chosen way of life and an official career together.

At seventy-eight, on the day he was to die, Chungjeong summoned a few close acquaintances and his students. He served them wine and food and asked to be buried beside his ancestors. He also entrusted his young grandson to their care. The pictures and books he cherished were divided among his students. Then he sat upright and quietly died. Neighbors hurried to mourn him. Scholars who had known him, and others who had not known him personally, came to offer condolences at his home.

The recorder ends with regret. A man devoted to his family and upright in his village deserved a position in which to exercise his abilities, yet he died in poverty. His writings too were scattered and could not be properly collected. Surely Eom Chungjeong was not the only person to live this way in a remote place and then lose even his name, the recorder asks. The act of recording one scholar's quiet life leads us to imagine other lives that went unseen.

嚴處士傳

Collected Korean Literary Works · Seongso Bubugo, Volume 8

The Classical Chinese original comes from ITKC’s publicly released Collected Korean Literary Works XML. Paragraphs are divided for readability. Consult the official source below for variant characters, collation notes and page images.

Why He Turned Away from an Official Career

Read Chungjeong's early examination studies beside his later refusal of office. He does not begin by declaring learning or public service worthless. His choice changes when he loses the purpose of sharing its happiness with his mother. The same action can mean different things depending on what it is undertaken for.

After describing his gentle disposition, the account adds that he was firm in judgment and in what he gave and received. These two attitudes together complete the portrait. Find the specific actions that show how generosity and principle can exist in one person. The esteem given to filial devotion and loyalty also reflects the values of the period in which the account was written.

The final commentary does more than praise Chungjeong's life. It grieves both that his abilities were not fully used and that his writing was scattered. The recorder respects his decision to refuse office while regretting the loss of what his talent might have achieved. Consider separately the questions raised by the account of his life and by the commentary at its end.