Rewritten elegies, or how they steal our names
CONTENT WARNINGS: implied sexual assault, transphobic & homophobic violence, use of a homophobic slur
The first story is the Korean myth of the Sun and the Moon. There is another legend about two rabbits who live on the moon. In some versions, they are making rice cakes. In others, they are making medicines or the elixir of immortality.
In one story, a village woman is walking home. She sells rice cakes in the market and brings the leftovers to her children, Sun and Moon. A Tiger emerges from the woods and says, I will not eat you if you give me a rice cake. Scared, she feeds the Tiger a piece and continues home. A little later, he appears again. I will not eat you if you give me a rice cake. She feeds him and walks further. He appears; she feeds him. He appears; she feeds him.
This continues until she has nothing left. He asks for her hands; she gives them. He asks for her arms; she gives them. He asks for her feet, her legs, until she has nothing left. Please spare me, she begs, I have two children. The Tiger eats the woman but keeps her clothes.
He walks until he reaches a small house by the woods. He puts on her skirt and knocks on the door. Your mother is home! Let me in! Sun and Moon hesitate. Why is your voice so deep? asks Moon. I have the cold, replies the Tiger. Why is your hand so hairy? asks Sun. Look again! and the Tiger extends a paw painted in white rice cake powder. Sun and Moon reluctantly open the door. He attacks, but Sun takes his sister’s hand and they escape through the window.
They climb up a persimmon tree and see the Tiger make his way up. Sun and Moon pray. Send down a rotten rope if we deserve punishment. Send a strong one for salvation. Their prayers are answered, and a rope descends from the sky. They climb up, up, up until they reach the heavens, where they live forever.
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In another story, Sun is cutting down trees in a forest. A Tiger emerges from the woods. Spare my home, he begs. Sun asks for his skin; he gives it. Sun asks for his eyes; he gives them. Sun asks and the Tiger gives until he has nothing left. Sun cuts down the forest and builds a house.
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In another story, the Tiger keeps all the village women’s clothes. Sun cuts down every persimmon tree.
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In another story, two rabbits make rice cakes on the moon. If you take a bite, you’ll live forever.
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In another story, a woman teaches her children how to make rice cakes. Fold them into half-moons, she says, and your fortune will fill up. Moon is greedy and makes her cake full. That night, lightning strikes down her favorite persimmon tree.
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In another story, Sun paints her face with white powder. Moon lends Sun her skirt. The sisters are dancing in the garden when their mother comes home. She rips off Sun’s clothes.
You are no son of mine, she says. Sun never dances again.
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In another story, Moon is in love with a boy who laughs like lightning. She gives him her skin; he takes it. He gives her his name; she takes it. Their children never learn how to pronounce hers.
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In another story, Sun is walking home. A man asks her for a smile; she refuses. He appears again; she refuses. He calls her a gook. Follows her home. She is sleeping beside her lover, Moon, when he sets fire to their house. Please save us, they beg, but they only hear laughter and lightning. Above the roaring there is a whisper:
Faggots are meant to burn.
For the first time, Sun and Moon pray to a god they don’t believe in. In one ending, a god answers with a rotten rope. In another, they dance until their bodies leave them, sparking and burning.
In one ending, their charred corpses curse the land beneath them. Their ashes sink into the earth and a persimmon tree takes root. The village folk know better than to steal from a dead thing, and so the blossoms wax and wane every fall with no one to eat them.
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In one ending, a child who has not yet heard lightning plucks a persimmon from the lowest branch. She runs home and smiles with orange teeth, the taste of rice cake on her tongue.
(If you take a bite, you’ll live forever.)
by JINHEE HEO