Caveat: 同苦同樂

I’m not sure what the difference is between an aphorism and an idiom – I have a book of aphorisms and a book of idioms, but a lot of what they have is the same.
I found this four-character idiom in my book of idioms.

同苦同樂
동고동락
dong.go.dong.rak
together-bitter-together-enjoy

This might be equivalent to something like the English aphorism, “Stick together through thick and thin.” My intuition is that this idiom would be used in the same context as discussions of 정 [jeong] (which I’ve discussed in detail before on this blog).
There was another interesting thing that made me laugh about this idiom: when you paste it into googletranslate, and accept its intention to translate from Chinese, it tells you that the English meaning is “Fun with pain.” This is accurate, but the English has an agential ambiguity that the Chinese lacks, I think – is it pain mixed with fun, or are we having fun with pain? If the latter, that’s more of a motto for a BDSM club than an aphorism for the thick and thin of life.
Apropos, I was thinking about jeong the other day when things got so bad at work. I wanted to turn to Curt and say verbatim what he had said to me those years ago: “you have no jeong.” I resisted that urge. But I definitely was thinking, in that moment, that his actions had been weirdly “jeongless” (I say “weirdly” since, presumeably, as a Korean, he has lots of jeong). I wonder just how one might accuse another of jeonglessness, idiomatically, in Korean. It’s a commonly-enough expressed sentiment, I think. Just a few weeks ago, I had a student complaining to me about the Japanese (I have many students who complain to me about the Japanese – they’re merely echoing the discourses that appear in the Korean media, of course), and she said, “they have no jeong.”
Notes for Korean (finding meaning)

  • 바로 = (adv.) directly, just, straight, promptly, only, precisely… 

picture[daily log: walking back to work after the short holiday, 6km]

Caveat: 自暴自棄

The other day was the first time I ever used a “four character aphorism” appropriately in conversation.
I said to Curt, “한국말을 배우할 수 없으니까 나는 자포자기가 됐어요.” He understood what I meant, so that’s a sign I must have used it more or less correctly. It wasn’t entirely spontaneous – I’d been pre-composing some sentences involving the idiom, and suddenly the context made one of the sentences I’d worked out appropriate.
Roughly, this means “Because of being unable to learn Korean, I feel despair.”
The four character idiom is:

自暴自棄
자포자기
ja.po.ja.gi
self-furious-self-abandon
“despair”


I made some kimchi fried rice today, because I received a large amount of home-made kimchi from a co-worker, and some years ago, I used to make dish quite often. I stopped making it, because it hasn’t been so easy to eat since my surgery, but sometimes I crave things I used to eat, even though it rarely is very rewarding to actually eat them. It ends up being a kind of eating-for-nostalgia.
Notes for Korean (finding meaning)

  • 까맣다 = to be black, to be dark-colored; to be far away (I  think, also, to be “burnt to a crisp”)
  • 대표 = representation
    so 대표부 = a mission (e.g. to the UN)
    대표단 = a delegation
  • 허락 = consent, approval, assent
    허락하다 = to consent to something, to grant permission, to allow, to permit
  • 방법 = method, way, procedure, means, process

[daily log: walking, 1.5km]

Caveat: 白面書生

I learned this four character phrase from my building’s elevator.

白面書生
백면서생
baek.myeon.seo.saeng
white-face-book-student

Basically, I guess, a bookworm. Maybe a kind of pre-modern nerd. Googletranslate suggests “teenager” but that seems too broad. I don’t really know – I haven’t heard in use.


Quite unrelatedly, what I’m listening to right now.

Ministry, “So What.”
The lyrics are quite profane, such that in fact I hesitate to post them on my PG-rated blog. But… well, it is what I’m listening to right now, after all. You can click the “x” in the upper right.

“You have had all that money can give you, but that wasn’t
enough. You became a thrill-seeker. Kill for the thrill.
(assassin) This thrill-seeking became the one great thing in
your life, planning one thrill on another until the murder. Kill
for the love of killing. (guilty) Kill for the thrill. The
thrill-seeker comes from all walks of life. He comes from the
home, a home where the parents are too busy to treat their children
with respect.”

Die! Die! Die! Die!
Scum-suckers! Debility divulged!
Anal fuck-fest, thrill Olympics
Savage scourge supply and sanctify
So what? So what?
So what? So what?
Die! Die! Die! Die!

Die! Die! Die! Die!
You said it!
Sedatives supplied become laxatives
My eyes shit out lies
I only kill to know I’m alive
So what? So what?
So what? So what?
Die! Die! Die! Die!

“Kill for the thrill. (assassin) Some people think newspapers
exaggerate juvenile crime. All that is defined mostly to the
large cities, juvenile delinquency is underlined. Thus parents
think something is going wrong with the environment. Adults
create the world, children live it. Juvenile delinquency is
always rooted in adult delinquency. And in this process, parents
play the key role when children grow up among adults who refuse
to recognize anything that is fine and good, or worthy of
respect.”

Die! Die! Die! Die!
So what, it’s your own problem to learn to live with
Destroy us, or make us slaves
We don’t care, it’s not our fault that we were born too late
A screaming headache on the promised age
Killing time is appropriate
To make a mess and fuck all the rest, we say, we say
So what? So what?
So what? So what?
Die!

Die!
Now that I know what it’s like,
I’ll kill them all if I like
Only time will decide
No one listened to reason,
it’s too late and I’m ready to fight
So what? Now I’m ready to fight!
I’m ready to fight! [x4]
Fight! [x4]
So What? [x6]

picture[daily log: walking, 6km]

Caveat: 뒤로 호박씨 까다

I found this idiom in my Korean idiom book.

뒤로 호박씨 까다
dwi.ro ho.bak.ssi kka.da
behind-MEANS pumpkin-seed crack
Crack pumpkin seeds with your behind.

I thought this was an interesting idea, because in figuring it out, I learned that the Korean word 뒤, which means “behind,” can also mean “behind” in the English idiomatic sense of ass. Thus this is, “to crack pumpkin seeds with your ass.”
What it means, apparently, is to appear innocent but to be carrying out nefarious deeds in secret. I guess to the extent that cracking pumpkin seeds with one’s ass is nefarious, that makes sense, as it would be hard to tell just looking at someone that they were doing that.
[daily log: walking, 6km]

Caveat: 櫛風沐雨

I saw the following four-character aphorism on my elevator yesterday.

櫛風沐雨
즐풍목우
jeul.pung.mok.u
comb-wind-wash-rain

My online dictionary offers: 바람으로 머리를 빗고 빗물로 목욕을 한다는 뜻으로, 객지를 방랑하며 온갖 고생을 겪음을 비유적으로 이르는 말.  I didn’t try to translate this in detail, but basically it seems to mean, “let the wind comb your hair, let the rain wash you.”
As an English equivalent, I found: “The storms of life.”
After a windy, gray and drizzly weekend, it seems like a good thing to meditate on.
picture[daily log: walking, 6.5km]

Caveat: 중이 제 머리를 못 깎는다

This is an aphorism from my aphorism book.

중이 제 머리를 못 깎는다
jung.i je meo.ri.reul mot kkakk.neun.da
monk-SUBJ self head-OBJ cannot shave-PRES
A monk cannot shave his own head.

This is interesting, because two sources give nearly opposite meanings for this aphorism. My aphorism book says that this is the idea of a someone who can’t take care of himself properly, or can’t manage his own affairs, implying it as a kind of criticism. The online dictionary daum.net says that this is “A man cannot scratch his own back” – i.e. that this the idea that a person needs other people. I think the online version makes more sense.
[daily log: walking, 6km]

Caveat: 吉祥善事

I learned this four-character Sino-Korean aphorism from my building’s elevator’s advertising TV yesterday.
吉祥善事
길상선사
gil.sang.seon.sa
The online dictionary gives the meaning: “더할 수 없이 기쁘고 경사스러운 일.”
It took me a while to figure out this definition, until I realized 없이 was an adverbialized form of 없다. From that, I guess this definition literally translates to something like “A happy and auspicious day unable-ly to grow worse,” but we have to make the adverbial into relative clause to make natural English: “A happy and auspicious day that cannot grow worse.”
Sounds like that would be a pretty good day. Not that I’ve had many in that category lately, although last week wasn’t really that bad – just very busy and I feel tired.
[daily log: walking, 1 km]

Caveat: 누은 나무에 열매 안연다

I saw this aphorism in my aphorism book.
누은 나무에 열매 안연다
nu.eun na.mu.e yeol.mae an.yeon.da
fall-PP tree-LOC fruit not-bear-PRES
A fallen tree bears no fruit.
The book suggests “nothing ventured, nothing gained” as an English equivalent. That makes sense.
I haven’t ventured much lately. 
QED.
[daily log: walking, 6km]

Caveat: 丹脣皓齒

This is a four-character aphorism from my elevator. Let me explain: my building’s elevator has this video display that plays news or advertising. Sometimes they put up these Chinese aphorisms, like this one. I decided to look it up, as I stood there staring at the screen.

단순 호치 = 丹脣皓齒
dan.sun.ho.chi

According to the daum online dictionary, this means “red lips white teeth” and references the face a beautiful woman. It seems very Chinese to me.
picture[daily log: walking, 6 km]

Caveat: 밑빠진 독에 물 붓는다

My coworker taught me this aphorism. So, for a change, it was actually contextual when I learned it, instead of it being simply something I ran across in one of my books or online. That was cool.

밑빠진 독에 물 붓는다 
mit.ppa.jin dok.e mul but.neun.da
bottom-lack-PP jar-IN water pour-PRES
[…like] pouring water into a jar with no bottom.

Maybe this means something like "bailing water from a leaky boat" or even "in one ear, out the other." My coworker used it in the context of describing a frustrating student who never seemed to actually acquire any knowledge from her constant efforts to teach him. It made me laugh when I figured it out.

[daily log: walking, 6 km]

Caveat: 남아도처시고향

I found this aphorism in my Korean-English Buddhism dictionary. Most of the aphorisms there are embedded in the articles, and are of Chinese origin (since that is the language of Buddhist scholarship in Korea for the most part). This makes them doubly hard to make sense of, and mostly I just go with whatever explanation is given, without trying to puzzle out the etymology.
남아도처시고향 (男兒到處是故鄕)
I found this explanation: 남아가 가는 곳 마다 고향인데, which (very roughly) seems to mean “every place is your hometown.”
I like the sentiment of this. There is an English aphorism that I think it was my uncle used to say: “Home is where you hang your hat.” I think this is similar.
[daily log: walking, 6 km]

Caveat: 동에 번쩍 서에 번쩍

This is an aphorism from my aphorism book.

동에 번쩍 서에 번쩍
dong.e beon.jjeok seo.e beon.jjeok
east-AT gleaming west-AT gleaming
[…Like] a glint in the east, [then] a glint in the west

This references someone who flits around, not really leaving a trace. “Quick and aimless feet” is the phrase used in the aphorism book. I can’t think of an English language equivalent, at the moment.
I rather like the utter fail that is google-translate’s offering: “Standing gleaming in gleaming copper.” That is poetic but not quite what was intended.
This aphorism makes me think of wizards, or ghost stories.
In fact, this reminds me of the ghost story I sometimes tell my students. It’s not really something that happened to me, although it has some germs of truth in the events of the night I died.
What I did was modify and alter some details, and focus in on several details that aren’t part of the canonical telling, and craft a narrative appropriate for children, with a frisson of weirdness and supernatural. Koreans enjoy ghost stories, and I felt that having my own ghost story would be a good idea.
I thought I had written this story down in my blog at some point in the past, but it seems that I did not, based on searching around the archives a bit. I was going to put a link to it, but since I did not, I’ll have write it for my blog and post it in the future, at which point I’ll put a link here.
[daily log: walking, yes, walking, walking, walking, well, not really that much.]

Caveat: Those whom the gods wish to destroy, they first make mad.

The Australian economist John Quiggin, who writes at a blog called Crooked Timber which I often peruse, had a slightly oblique discussion of a text by Thucydides (the Melian  dialogue) which I very vaguely recall once reading (or attempting to read). His summary is interesting, vis-a-vis drawing an eerie (and ironic) kind of parallel between the situation in Classical Greece, with Athens as hegemon within the Delian League, and the situation in modern Europe, with Germany as hegemon within the European Union.

He concludes with the quote I have used as my title on this post, which I guess is a kind of anonymous Greek proverb which was first recorded in Sophocles' Antigone (one of my favorite classical plays, I guess, though I most prefer Jean Anouilh's modern adaption, which neverthless stays quite loyal to the thematics… and speaking of Germans behaving hegemonically).

[daily log: walking, 6 km]

Caveat: 부처님 위하여 불공하나

This is an aphorism from my aphorism book.

부처님 위하여 불공하나
bu.cheo.nim wi.ha.yeo bul.gong.ha.na
Buddha benefit-INF hold-ceremony-INTERROG
Do [you] hold a ceremony for the Buddha?

The meaning, according to the book, is that people may pretend to work for their employers but in fact are only looking out for themselves. However, the literal meaning of the phrase is merely, “hold a ceremony for the Buddha” – the bad faith of those holding the ceremony is taken as a given implied by the question, which grammatically is what is called a “mild interrogative” but the -나 ending also has an “adversative” meaning, i.e. an implied “but….
This seems to reflect the category of the old, institutionalized anti-Buddhist sentiment that was one of the ideological productions of the Choson era and which underlies, in my opinion, the success of evangelical Christianity in modern Korea.
[daily log: walking in the rain, 6 km]

Caveat: 自强不息

I was cited this “four-character aphorism” by a student (I’ve discussed these special types of aphorisms [broken link! FIXME] before). He didn’t bother to explain it – somehow it’s just something people should know – as is so often the case with aphorisms.
So I had to figure it out. First of all, I went online and found the hanja (Chinese characters), as my student had only cited the hangeul spelling of it.

自强不息
자강불식
ja.gang.bul.sik
self.exert.not.breathe

Really I’m not totally confident I understand it. I found this definition in Korean, which I don’t fully get: “스스로 힘써 몸과 마음을 가다듬고 쉬지 않음.”
The definition seems to mean something to the effect of “working hard doesn’t take care of heart and body.” I have decided the aphorism must mean something like “sometimes one should take a break.” Perhaps it’s like “All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.”
After trying to figure this out, I decided to take a break.
[daily log: walking, 6.5 km]
 
 

Caveat: 개미가 정자나무 건드린다

Here is an aphorism from my aphorism book.

개미가 정자나무 건드린다
gae.mi.ga jeong.ja.na.mu geon.deu.rin.da
ant-SUBJ shade-tree stir-PRES
An ant stirs a shade tree.

The ant cannot be successful in trying to shake a big tree. This means “out of one’s league,” maybe: the small man provoking or challenging the big man – a hopeless battle.


In other news, today is the last day of my “naesin vacation” – i.e. my reduced work schedule because of the middle school exam prep period. Frankly, this naesin vacation was the least vacationy I’ve had – since Grace was out for the first 3 weeks of it, I actually didn’t have a reduced schedule but instead an increased one. Last week I finally got the reduced schedule, but it hasn’t had the recuperative effect I normally derive from these periods of easier work. I’m still feeling stressed and burned out.
[daily log: walking 6 km]

Caveat: 내것 잃고 인심 잃는다

About a month ago, I misplaced my book of proverbs. I don’t quite know how this happened – I was straightening things up and put it somewhere I thought was logical at the moment, and then couldn’t for the life of me find it again later.
This was annoying. I actually looked quite actively for it a few times.
Yesterday, I finally ran across it, under a vast pile of papers I had intended to sort out at one point. How it got there I can’t quite fathom, as the pile of papers precedes, archeologically speaking, the loss of the book. 
Anyway, I am glad to have found it again. Here is a proverb.

내것 잃고 인심 잃는다
nae.geot ilh.go in.sim ilh.neun.da
my-thing lose-CONJ hearts-of-people lose-PRES
“I lose my things, and I lose the hearts of the people.”

I guess this has a pretty self-evident meaning, although it’s not clear to me if the loss of the things leads to the loss of people’s hearts, or if it’s more about how bad luck comes along all at once, losing this and then that.
Anyway, this is why I was sad to have lost my aphorism book – because I knew that subsequently, I would be losing the hearts of my readers. 
[daily log: walking, 6 km]

Caveat: 설마가 사람 죽인다

This is an aphorism from my aphorism book.

설마가 사람 죽인다
seol.ma.ga sa.ram juk.in.da
surely(-not)-SUBJ person kill-PRES
“Surely not” kills a person.

Don’t assume “it can’t happen here.” Be prepared for the worst. Never say never.
This is interesting because the adverbial 설마 seems to have the subject particle attached to it, which seems to function as a kind of citational. It is definitely an example of the fluidity of grammatical categories in Korean.
Should I prepare this for our talent show on Friday?
[daily log: walking, 6 km]

Caveat: 귀소문 말고 눈소문 하라

This is an aphorism from my book of aphorisms.

귀소문 말고 눈소문 하라
gwi.so.mun mal.go nun.so.mun ha.ra
 ear-report refrain-CONJ eye-report do-COMMAND
Refrain from [believing] the report of the ears, but rather [believe] the report of the eyes.

“Seeing is believing,” of course. Then again, as a fan of (or, anyway, someone fascinated by) apophenia, sometimes we see things that are not there, and we choose to believe them, because our impulse to believe seems to epistemologically precede our sensory capacity.
[daily log: walking, 6 km]

Caveat: 수박 겉 핥기

This is an aphorism from my aphorism book.

수박 겉 핥기
su.bak geot halt.gi
watermelon surface taste-GER
[… like] licking the skin of a watermelon.

This seems to refer to the superficial enjoyment of something without knowledge of the deeper meaning. Googletranslate gives “scratch the surface” but I’m not sure that’s quite exactly the same – “scratch the surface,” to me, anyway, means something neutral, as in, just getting started digging into some topic (potentially negitive but also potentially positive). The Korean seems more definitely negative, to my perception, implying a kind of “failing to dig deeper.”
[daily log: walking, 6 km]

Caveat: 살아가면 고향

This is an aphorism from my aphorism book.

살아가면 고향
sal.a.ga.myeon go.hyang
lead-life-WHEN hometown
Home is where you’re living.

It means that living somewhere, it becomes home. “Home is where you hang your hat.” Or, in Buckaroo Bonzai terms, “Wherever you go, there you are.”
This is highly relevant. I need to remember this when Koreans ask me where my home is.
[daily log: walking, 6 km]

Caveat: 두 손뼉이 맞아야 소리가 난다

This is an aphorism from my aphorism book.

두 손뼉이 맞아야 소리가 난다
du son.ppyeok.i maj.a.ya so.ri.ga nan.da
two palm-SUBJ meet-OFCOURSE(?) sound-SUBJ comes-out-PRES
With two palms meeting, sound comes out.

This has the meaning of “it takes a team [at least two] to get anything done.” It’s not quite the same as the English phrase “it takes two [to tango]”, which has a kind of negative implication about how it takes two people to do something bad (like argue or fight). The Korean seems positive in its valences.
I was (am) puzzled by the ending -야 on the finite verb form 맞 아. According to my grammar bible, the -야 ending is for nouns with that “even” or “of course” meaning. But it made sense to assume that’s what was being done here. I have a vague recollection of a verbal -야 studied somewhere, but  I can’t remember the specifics and for the life of me I can’t find it right now in my grammar books. 
[daily log: walking, 6 km]

Caveat: 내 말이 좋으니 좋으니 해도 달려 보아야 한다

This is an aphorism from my aphorism book.

내 말이 좋으니 (네 말이) 좋으니 해도 달려 보아야 한다
nae mal.i joh.eu.ni joh.eu.ni hae.do dal.lyeo bo.a.ya han.da
my horse-SUBJ be-good-SINCE (your horse-SUBJ) be-good-SINCE do-CONC gallop-INF try-SHOULD
Although it may be that my horse is good or your horse is good, one must try it at a gallop.

Only by experience can we really know something. The part in parentheses was not in my aphorism book, but I was having trouble figuring out the grammar and when I googled the aphorism online, I got the version with the extra between parentheses, which made the meaning easier to figure out.
See? Only by experience. 
[daily log: walking, 2 km]

Caveat: 一刻千金

picture
I ran across this four-character Chinese aphorism online.

一刻 千金
일각천금
il.gak.cheon.geum
moment-wealth

The second of the two terms, which I rendered, after much equivocation, as “wealth,” is literally “thousand pieces of gold.” The idea is that each moment is precious.
You wouldn’t know that from how I waste my time. Er… or is that the point?
[daily log: walking, 6 km]

Caveat: 끈 떨어진 두레박

This is an aphorism I saw in my book of aphorisms.

끈 떨어진 두레박
kkeun tteol.eo.jin du.re.bak
cord fall-PPART bucket
A bucket with a fallen cord

Apparently it refers to a person who wanders without friends or relatives. Although I have friends and relatives for whom I am immensely grateful, I admit sometimes I easily fall into a pattern of perceiving myself this way.
[daily log: walking, 6 km]

Caveat: 세살적 버릇 여든까지 간다

Yesterday my student cited this aphorism to me – he was trying to figure out how to say it in English. Having seen it before in my aphorism book, I actually was able to decipher his idea – I think without that, I’d have had no clue what his intended meaning was.

세살적 버릇 여든까지 간다
se.sal.jeok beo.reut yeo.deun.kka.ji gan.da
Three-years-MANNER habit eighty-UNTIL go-PRES
A habit of three years goes until eighty.

It means a childhood habit sticks with us for life. He was using it to explain why we can’t easily stop people from eating junk food.
[daily log: walking, 5.5 km; lifting boxes, 1 hr]

Caveat: 희기는 까치 배 바닥 같다

This is an aphorism from my aphorism book.

희기는 까치 배 바닥 같다
hui.gi.neun kka.chi bae ba.dak gat.da
white-MYSTERYENDING magpie belly bottom be-like
To be like the belly of a magpie – white.

I wasn’t able to figure out any parse of -기는 that really made sense. “White” is verb-like (what is called descriptive verb, which stands in for adjectives in Korean). If I parse the ending as “summative” (기 – a bit like a gerund) + 는 (topic) I guess that gets close to a valid parse. It would make the whiteness the “topic” of the sentence, while the magpie’s belly is a kind of complement, with nothing tying them together except the comparison for some unmentioned subject. Anyway, even without clarity on the grammatical issue, I think the translation is more-or-less passable.
The meaning, according to the book, is that it applies to someone good at lying, especially white lies or bluffing.
I painted this picture a long time ago and [broken link! FIXME] posted it on the blog, but I think this aphorism merits a reposting of the picture.
picture
“가을의 까치” (ink and watercolor).
[daily log: walking, 5 km]

Caveat: 쇠살에 말살 붙인다

Here is an aphorism from my aphorism book.

쇠살에 말살 붙인다
soe.sal.e mal.sal but.in.da
cow-meat-LOC horse-meat attach-PRES
[Like…] attaching horse-meat to cow meat.

This means an ill-fitted agglomeration or patchwork of things, and extended metaphorically, I guess it’s used to refer to a badly constructed argument. To me, it sounds a bit like the old idea of how golems are supposed to be constructed. Anyway, that seems like something useful to know how to say, though if my Korean was good enough to recognize a badly constructed argument (or any kind of argument), I’d be too pleased to complain.
[daily log: walking, 1.5 km]

Caveat: 시작이 반이다

This is an aphorism from my aphorism book.

시작이 반이다
si.jak.i ban.i.da
start-SUBJ half-COPULA
The start is half.

Which is to say, “Starting is half the battle.”
It was not hard to figure out, once I started trying to figure it out.


What I’m listening to right now.

Andy Kim, “Rock Me Gently.” Despite his name, he is not Korean (as is evident from the video, I think, too). Kim is a stage name, I guess. He is Lebanese-Canadian.
[daily log: walking, 5.5 km]

Caveat: 눈 위에 서리 친다

Here is a winter-themed aphorism from my aphorism book.

눈 위에 서리 친다.
nun wi.e seo.ri chin.da
snow over-LOC frost hit-PRES
Frost falls on snow.

This seems about the same as “out of the frying pan, into the fire.” But colder.
So far I’ve been very disappointed by the extremely snowless winter Korea is having. We had basically one snowfall. It’s just cold and dry. I guess that’s the whole Siberian thing, going on.
[daily log: walking, 5 km]

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