Miscellaneous palace and royal art

My last two posts came from Gyeongbok Palace, the most important royal palace in Seoul. The following are ten more photos from the palace, which includes a royal museum as well.

In the US, a bill becomes law when W (and pretty soon, Barack Obama) puts his signature on it. In Australia, Kevin Rudd should do the same. In royal Korea, the king did the same, but instead of a signature, he applied these royal seals to enact new laws. Even today, personal seals are often used on legal documents instead of signatures.

Korean roofs often have gargoyles sitting on them, to ward off evil spirits. And here are some examples. These are modeled after the characters from a Chinese classic, Journey to the West. The left is Monk Sanzang, who leaves for India in search of Buddhist enlightenment and sutras. The middle is the Monkey King, who joins Sanzang on his trip; he is known for his immaturity, which is kept in control by a skull ring put on him by our transgender matron saint Kwan Yin. The right is the Pig Monster, which also accompanies Sanzang. A fourth being, off of the right edge of this picture, rounds out the traveling party.

Gyeonghoeru is the largest royal pavilion in Korea, located on a rectangular island in the middle of a rectangular pond. Receptions for foreign dignitaries were once held here. This building graced the back of the 10,000-won banknote before its redesign in 2006. (Those old banknotes are extremely rare today, as the Bank of Korea has been very good at pulling them out of circulation as soon as they can. They are still legal tender, however.)

These buildings toward the rear of the palace show Korean color theming, but Chinese architecture. I loved the mix.

Behind them is the wall separating the palace from the Blue House, the modern-day official residence of the President. Its current occupant is a W puppet by the name of Lee Myung-bak, whose name is often initialized as "2MB," meaning that his brain power adds up to only two megabytes.

A popular activity at this gift shop: put these royal outfits on and take a commemorative photo. You can be a king, a queen, an officer, a general, a concubine - whatever you want to be.

Some of the twelve icons of the Chinese zodiac, which are very important in Korean calendars.

The twelve are the rat, the ox, the tiger, the hare, the dragon, the snake, the horse, the sheep, the monkey, the rooster, the dog, and the boar. The boar is on the left, and the dog is on the right.

This public announcement asks Koreans to vote in the national legislative elections of May 10, 1948. It says: "Voting is the responsibility of a patriot. To abstain is shameful."

This election was run by the United Nations. It was supposed to cover all of Korea, but the Soviets blocked the UN observers from entering the northern half, so only South Korea could participate.

Traditional Korean braiding, complete with jade and other inserts.

Shaman village guardians. The middle one is truly unusual; its name is "Great General of the Eastern Blue Empire."

Normally, guardians come in pairs, one named "Great General Under the Heavens" (天下大將軍) and the other named either "Great General of the Underground" (地下大將軍) or "Female General of the Underground" (地下女將軍). The "Under the Heavens" version may also be a female as well (天下女將軍), though they are extremely rare.

A phallic statue made of volcanic rock, named "harubang" and native to Jeju Island, a volcano in the far south of Korea.

Some of you may know that I've been fortunate to have Gayle Brandeis, the Communications Goddess over at CODEPINK, as my writing mentor for over three years. Her first novel, which won the Barbara Kingsolver Literary Award for Social Justice, dealt with a native of Jeju Island.

The story: The protagonist, Helen, was a descendant of generations of Jeju's legendary diving women, but was never good at the job, and came to the Korean mainland for a better life, eventually ending up as a sex worker outside a US military base serving black soldiers. A white soldier married her and brought her to California, but when a black baby, Ava, was born, he abandoned the two. The novel is narrated by Ava in her twenties, as she recalls her childhood tendency to kill Helen's birds, and later heads out to the landlocked Salton Sea in the California desert to stop the mass deaths of migratory birds there.

After reading that book, titled The Book of Dead Birds, every harubang that I come across is a reminder of Helen and the life she left behind.