Free Princess Bari by Sok-yong Hwang Page B

Grandmother to tell me stories. Listening to her old tales made me feel like I was back in that house with the wide courtyard at the top of the hill in Chongjin. My sisters would be playing cat’s-cradle or a clapping game in the room on the other side of the house, and any moment now our mother would come out of the kitchen with a basket of gaetteok that she’d steamed in the cauldron or sulppang leavened with alcohol, and I would hear her call out merrily: “Girls, come have some snacks!” I could hear my sisters laughing in delight as they thumped across the floor.
    â€œDid you hear what I said, child?” Grandmother asked me.
    â€œNo … the last thing I heard you say was that Princess Bari was the seventh daughter.”
    â€œThat’s right. The six older daughters appear one after the other and burst into tears: ‘Our poor mother! Our poor father!’ The queen turns to them and says: ‘Alas, another girl! Your father, His Majesty the King, will collapse from anger, so go to the stonemason and ask him to carve us a stone chest. Place the baby inside of it. Then tiptoe all the way to the Dragon Swamp, slowly, slowly, and toss it in!’ But those foolish girls take off running, the heavy stone chest hoisted onto their shoulders, their backs, their heads. They keep pace by chanting, Uh-gi yung-cha! Uh-gi yung-cha! When they reach the swamp, a flute plays. It is the voice of Heaven. Sky and Earth stick together, blocking their way. They call out: ‘O Heavenly Lord! If you mean to kill us, then kill us. If you mean to strike us down, then strike us down. We’ve done nothing wrong. We are at the service of the king and are doing his bidding.’ Heaven and Earth split apart again. They toss the chest into the swamp and say: ‘Ah, now we can never again return to the palace.’ ”
    â€œGrandma, I thought you said she was abandoned in a forest, like me.”
    â€œSometimes it’s a forest. Other times it’s a river, or the sea. Sometimes she’s saved by a crane, and other times by a magpie. Sometimes, a golden tortoise appears and saves her.”
    â€œAnd after that she’s raised by an elderly hermit couple?”
    â€œWell, sometimes she’s rescued by the Dragon King in his underwater palace. Then, after she’s all grown up, the king and queen become very ill, and all their subjects fall ill too. What’s to be done? A fortune teller is consulted, and they’re told that the only way they’ll be saved is if the seventh daughter they abandoned, Princess Bari, returns. A girl is brought forth from the mountains, but they’re not sure that it’s her and not some evil spirit or ghost impostor. The girl takes a few tiny steps forward and says: ‘Mother, there’s proof.’
    â€˜What proof?’ the queen asks.
    â€˜The blood on the door is still wet from when you pricked my ring finger as a baby and left a mark. I’ll prick my finger again, and we’ll see if the blood matches.’
    â€œThe queen agrees, so the girl pricks her ring finger, wincing from the pain, and adds a drop to the blood on the papered door. Sure enough, it congeals together, proving it is the same blood. The queen exclaims: ‘ Aigo! You’ve grown up as bright as the full moon and as strong as the king of the beasts! Was it the water? Was it the sunshine? Was it the dew? How did you grow up so well?’ ”
    â€œI know what happens next! She has to bring back the life-giving water to save her parents and the people of the world, right?”
    â€œClever little Bari! I told you the story once, and you remembered the whole thing. So they tell her, if you go to where the sun sets over there in the western sky, all the way to the ends of the Earth, you’ll find the life-giving water. While Bari journeys through the ailing country, across the ocean and over the mountains, she is helped by gods and spirits