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“Hwasubun” is written from the first-person perspective of the narrator/landlord and describes the poverty and sufferings of a family living in a small rented room in his house and the ensuing tragedy the family experiences. But the author tried to show there’s hope in every situation, in even the most difficult ones, rather than merely documenting the harrowing reality of the time.

My husband hasn’t always been poor. When his father was alive, they owned a large farm and his three siblings lived a good life in the rural town of Yangpyeong. They had great names, too. The eldest brother’s was Jangja, the second son’s was Geobu, and the third son, my husband, was called Hwasubun. 

 아범이 본래는 저렇게는 못살지 않았답니다.

 저희 아버지 살았을 때에는 볏백 석이나 하고,

 삼형제가 양평 시골서 남부럽지 않게 살았답니다.

 이름들도 모두 좋지요.

 맏형은 장자요,

 둘째는 거부요,

 아범이 셋짼데 화수분이랍니다.

Interview by literary critic Jeon So-yeong

The word “hwasubun” originally means a magical pot that reproduces whatever item that is put in it. But, contrary to his name, the man and his wife were penniless. But rather than being defeated by the crushing burden of poverty, this incredibly naïve couple kept on living their lives as fate dictated. 

Cutting winds sliced his cheeks. He craned his neck to see what was down there and saw a whitish human shape under a pine tree. He ran toward it. 

When he got there, he saw that it was his baby daughter Okbun and his wife. 

She was found curled up and shivering on a bed of branches spread on the snow under the tree, covered in tattered clothes she used to carry her baby and holding her baby tightly in her arms. 

Hwasubun frantically gathered them up into his arms. His wife opened her eyes but couldn’t speak. Hwasubun was speechless, too. They must have spent the night clinging on to each other, with their little one snuggled between them. 

칼날 같은 바람이 뺨을 친다.

그는 고개를 숙여 앞을 내려다보다가,

소나무 밑에 희끄무레한 사람의 모양을 보았다.

그것을 곧 달려가 보았다.

가본즉 그것은 옥분과 그의 어머니다.

나무 밑 눈 위에 나뭇가지를 깔고,

어린것 업은 헌 누더기를 쓰고

한 끝으로 어린 것을 꼭 안아가지고

옹크리고 떨고 있다.

화수분은 왁 달려들어 안았다.

어멈은 눈은 떴으나 말은 못한다.

화수분도 말을 못한다.

어린 것을 가운데 두고 그냥 껴안고 밤을 지낸 모양이다.

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Jeon Young-taek (1894 ~ 1968, Born in Pyongyang, Pyongannam-do Prov.)

: 1919 Debuted by publishing “Hye-seon’s Death” in literary magazine Changjo

1925 Published “Hwasubun” in literary magazine Joseon Mundan

1963 Awarded the Presidential Order of Cultural Merit