The Hymn of Death

The Hymn of Death 2018

Starring: Lee Jong-suk and Shin Hye-sun

 

The Hymn of Death is based on true events and portrays the tragic romance of Kim U-jin, a genius playwright, and Korea’s first soprano of Western classical music, Yun Sim-doek. The two committed suicide in 1926, by jumping off a passenger ship en route from Japan to Korea. They were both 29 years old. The shocking news became a sensation in Korea. Shortly after their deaths, Yun Sim-doek’s recording of “The Hymn of Death” was released. It sold over 100,000 copies in an era when recordings were relatively new.

For those of us unfamiliar with their story, we need to understand some biographical information and the basic impact of the Japanese occupation, and the pressures and expectations of a Confucius society so that we can fully appreciate this drama. There’s a lot to unpack.

 

 

Kim U-jin and Yun Sim-doek

There’s precious little written in English about Kim U-jin and Yun Sim-doek. I suspect they’re folk heroes in Korea, and that their stories are better documented, but they are virtually unknown in the States. Kim U-jin (played by Lee Jong-suk) was a poet, playwright, essayist, dramatist, and Korea’s first professional literary critic of Korean literature. He was the son of a wealthy land owner and went to Tokyo to study English literature and pursue a career in theater.

Kim U-jin and Yun Sim-doek

Yun Sim-doek (played by Shin Hye-sun) came from a poor family. She became the first Korean to study music at the Tokyo Music School, where she studied voice and Western classical music. After graduating, she became a singer and actress, known as "Korea's First Soprano" (likely because of her performances of Western classical pieces). But her audiences couldn't connect with her repertoire and she turned to popular music to make ends meet. Kim U-jin and Yun Sim-doek met in Tokyo in 1921 while both were attending college and fell in love.

 

Japanese Occupation

The Japanese occupied Korea from 1910 to 1945, but there had been at least half a century of trouble leading up to formal occupation. For Korea, then known as Joseon, the 19th century brought about the Industrial Revolution, and with it the West pressured Asian countries to trade. While they were successful with Japan and China, Joseon adamantly refused to yield. In 1875, Japan attacked two Joseon islands and demanded that Joseon open its doors to foreign trade. Things did not go well for Joseon and eventually, under military threat, they were forced to sign a treaty with Japan, in 1876, that greatly favored Japan. Joseon was officially annexed by Japan in 1910. 

 

Joseon was ruled by generals and admirals appointed by Japan’s emperor—effectively, a military occupation—and, under Japanese occupation, Koreans were deprived of their freedom of assembly, association, the press, and speech. Koreans were forced to learn and speak Japanese. This isn’t new. Forced assimilation is an effective means of conquering a culture and driving the people into submission by breaking their cultural identity. The Japanese did this in many ways by changing laws, policies, religious teachings, and education. Additionally, Korean students were forced to learn Japanese language and culture (textbooks were in Japanese) and Koreans were forced to take Japanese names—and, as your Korean name connects you with your family and ancestors, changing your name meant losing that connection. The Japanese chipped away and denied the very core and identity of Joseon (Korean) culture. This is the era in which Kim U-jin and Yun Sim-doek lived.

 

 

Confucianism

Korea is a Confucius society. Confucianism is predicated on personal ethics and morality and establishes social values. An individual’s good moral character is believed to affect the world around them, eliciting cosmic harmony. (ex., if I do good things, then I will attract good things to me and into my life; karma.) Devotion to one’s family—submission to parental authority, or filial piety—is a fundamental tenet of  Confucianism, as is respect for elders, harmony between individuals, justice, and loyalty to friends. Filial piety can be an emotional pressure cooker when what one desires—education, work, relationships, marriage—differs from what one’s parents dictate. This pressure is often used in Kdramas to further complicate a story, but it’s based on reality. 

 

 

The Hymn of Death 

(N.B. This section contains SPOILERS.)

This series doesn’t have the feeling of a typical biographical series. Kim U-jin’s and Yun Sim-doek’s ill-fated love is well known in Korea. The series focuses on the two and the familial, societal, and political pressures placed on each of them that, ultimately, led to their suicide. Kim U-jin bristles against Japanese occupation, but he’s not on the front lines of protests. He reads Japanese books in Korean to remind himself that he is Korean. He directs plays that flirt with being politically dangerous. But it is his family life that is the most suffocating. 

His father has little regard or respect for Kim U-jin’s study and interest in literature or theater. Yet Kim U-jin has a quiet determination to pursue, through college, his own interests. Yet, he obeys his father in most things: not to keep his literature books on his desk; and, after his education, to return home; run the family business; and to give up writing.

 

Stifling expectations of tradition and filial piety, compounded with the cultural oppression and the inability to love and marry Yun Sim-doek, drive him to an emotional and mental paradigm in which he sees his future as nothing but a living death.

 

Yun Sim-doek faces similar pressures, albeit differently. She is the breadwinner of an impoverished family with the added burden of sending her two younger siblings to study abroad. While she enjoys some success as a singer, she finds earning a living difficult as her training in Western classical music is not readily appreciated by Koreans. As their situation becomes more desperate, Yun Sim-doek faces the obligations of being a dutiful daughter: her parents pressure her to accept a marriage proposal from a wealthy family. Eventually, poverty, sordid and unfounded rumors and gossip, and the manipulated pressure from both government and family drive Yun Sim-doek to desperation.

Despite their deep love for each other, both Kim U-jin and Yun Sim-doek feel defeated by circumstances. They cannot love each other openly, they face a life without hope of seeing each other, of doing what gives meaning to their lives, and having to submit to pressures they cannot accept.

 

 

Review

This is a gem of a series. Once I understood the societal and political context in which this story takes place, it became much more nuanced and meaningful. Their love blossoms across the episodes and grows deeper, even if it’s depicted with more chastity than passion. But the clues are there: a look, a touch, a hug, tears, betrayal, separation, and longing. Even the inclusion of Kim U-jin’s writings about Yun Sim-doek in the series conveys the deep love he has for her. 

 

The cast was wonderful—a lot of familiar faces for Kdrama fans—and the acting was supurb. Lee Jung-suk once again delivers a beautiful performance: He is a master at his craft, able to convey his character’s vulnerabilities, strengths, and frustrations with subtle expressions and actions. 

 

Shin Hye-sun’s performance was graceful and strong. The only one flaw in her performance is that she is not a singer and it shows. Whether that’s the fault of the director or her interpretation, we don’t know. But it’s obvious that she’s lip-synching.

 

I watched this series twice. I was enchanted by Kim U-jin’s poetry and writings, which were included in passages and quoted on screen at the end of each episode. His work is moving and beautiful and had me scrambling online for more. But, once again, there is precious little about Kim U-jin, his poetry, or his writings that is available in English. 

The Hymn of Death is a beautiful and powerful, albeit tragic, love story. If you love or appreciate historical dramas, stories of real events and people, and compelling drama, don’t miss this.

©2024 Caitlyn Frost. All rights reserved.