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Chapter 1

Shamanism and the Spirit World

Primary colors blur as she spins repeatedly, entranced and led on by clanging cymbals and the insistent beat of drums. She sings and dances as a means of communicating with the spirit world. She enters into what appears to be a trance, speaking with the voice of the departed. This is her gift, and her curse—to be a musok-in, a Korean shaman. The ceremony she is performing, the gut, lasts all day long and may serve to calm malign spirits, purify the soul of the recently deceased, or ask the gods for a good harvest or success in a business venture. She is part of a tradition that stretches back forty thousand years and has its origins in Siberia. Musok, or shamanism, has been practiced on the Korean peninsula for far longer than the concept of Korea, the country, has existed.

Though Musok is ancient and seems remote from the South Korea of today—a wealthy, technologically advanced, and increasingly globalized country—it is woven into the fabric of Korean society and still exerts an influence over the most rational of city folk.

What is Korean Shamanism, and How Popular Is It?

Musok is a set of disparate religious or superstitious practices based in the belief of a natural world animated by spirits, and aimed at bridging between those spirits and living human beings. Usually, a believer will turn to Musok in order to produce some sort of benefit—good fortune or the removal of evil spirits—or to learn something about his or her destiny. Practitioners may follow a great many different gods and spirits, and the way these are followed depends on a number of factors, including the practitioner’s personality and the region she comes from. According to the musok-in Hyun-ju (her working name), who has practiced Musok for over twenty years for a large variety of clients, at the heart of Musok is simply a “belief in nature.” As she explains, everything in nature—be it a person, an animal, a tree, or even a rock —has a spirit. Musok offers a way of communicating with those spirits, and possibly using them for some earthly benefit.

Since each musok-in follows different gods and spirits, there is a pantheon in only a very loose sense. Researchers have documented more than ten thousand gods worshipped by Musok practitioners, and, in reality, there are likely to be many more. Individual musok-in have their own principal gods—Hyun-ju’s is an ancient Chinese monk. There have been those who have followed Jesus Christ; and, after his daring Incheon landing during the Korean War, some even worshipped General Douglas MacArthur.

Similarly, since there is no overarching set of rules and no bible or orthodoxy, ceremonies that have formalized rituals involving dances, songs, and incantations—such as the Seoul danggut, which calls for a good harvest—are recognized and transmitted on a regional or town level. Musok-in learn those that apply to their home regions. In addition, according to Hyun-ju, musok-in often find it hard to collaborate since they each believe “their gods are the best.” While each musok-in is guided to some extent by millennia of shamanic tradition, specific traditions vary by region. Furthermore, much depends on who the novice learned from, the god she follows, and her own individual character.

Musok is very practical, as it is used as way of solving people’s problems via communication with the spirit world. The musok-in is a go-between, mediating between ordinary Koreans and this other world, linking the person seeking advice or an understanding of their future or remediation of some sort with the spirits that can provide it. Hyun-ju, for instance, tells this author to avoid the color blue and, more specifically, not to buy a blue car at the age of thirty-four, based on the advice of spirits. But she does not impart the sort of moral counsel a pastor or priest might, for instance. There is no Musok Ten Commandments. (Hyun-ju does have her own personal rules, however, such as the need to refrain from lying and thoughtless speech. Her chosen name means “Be careful with your words.”)

Followers do not describe themselves as adherents of Musok. In Korea, one simply visits a musok-in for advice with a big decision or dilemma, or when faced with illness or tragedy. Those who go for counsel are not typically aware of the specific character of the gods followed by the musok-in or the meaning of the rituals employed. They approach the musok-in in the way a Westerner may approach a psychiatrist: as a consultant, as and when required.

Musok is considered “feminine”—a legacy of Korean history and not simply due to the fact that most practitioners are women. During the Joseon dynasty (1392–1897), neo-Confucianism was the state ideology. This philosophical tradition was paternalistic and encouraged the marginalization of women in public life. Concerned with rationalism and the promotion of an orderly society, neo-Confucians considered Musok emotional and metaphysical and conflated it with the feminine, which may in fact have coincided with a tradition of shamans being mainly women. Consequently, they suppressed it, and relegated musok-in to the lowest social class, the cheonmin. Even so, practitioners continued to receive business from customers of all kinds, from humble farmers to royalty. In an era of male-dominated, non-spiritual formality, people demanded an outlet for the opposite side of their character—and Musok provided that. Queen Min of the late Joseon period herself employed two musok-in as advisors.

In the modern era, despite the advent of scientific rationalism and the rapid growth of Christianity in Korea, Musok has flourished. The New York Times reports there to be around 300,000 musok-in working in contemporary Korea. Many are drawn to the practice by the fact that it has become a very profitable business. A sought-after musok-in who pushes expensive ceremonies on her clients can become wealthy. Some are able to advertise in major newspapers, employ several apprentices and assistants, and buy multiple properties. The fact that millions of Koreans are prepared to pay for this sort of spiritual counsel does, of course, encourage fakes and frauds. This, according to Hyun-ju, has set the Musok world “at war with itself.” A real musok-in is not rich, she says.

The Making of a Musok-in

The process of becoming a musok-in can start in one of two ways. The first is seseupmu, the inheritance of shaman status from one’s family, with an older relative conferring the status on a younger one. Of such musok-in, there are two types, both traditionally found south of the Han River: shimbang and tangol. Shimbang are not considered to be in direct contact with spirits, but they have the ability to draw spirits into communion with others. A tangol may not believe in a particular god as her guide. Neither will maintain a personal shrine.

The second type of initiation, gangshinmu, occurs with no such hereditary connection. It begins with a kind of “spiritual sickness” known as a shinbyeong. The shinbyeong manifests itself in a variety of symptoms, such as loss of energy, hallucinations, the hearing of voices, and insomnia, which indicate that the woman who is stricken by them is possessed of the ability to communicate with spirits. This ability is considered a curse rather than a blessing—but it is also a matter of destiny: Hyun-ju states that she would not be a musok-in if she felt she had a choice. Her life is lonely, she says, and at least for her, incompatible with having a family. She remains unmarried and laments that she expects no one to turn up to her funeral, a consequence of people’s superstition about the presence of hostile spirits at a musok-in’s wake and her lack of a family.

Those judged to be proper candidates for gangshinmu induction into the ranks of musok-in are initiated by way of a special kind of gut, the naerim gut. Naerim refers to the physical entrance of a spirit into a new initiate; a particular god (for example, Hyun-ju’s Chinese monk), will take possession of the new musok-in, and from then on be her spirit leader. This naerim ceremony cures the illness and signals the initiate’s transformation from ordinary person to musok-in.

The conductor of the naerim gut will then likely serve as the new musok-in’s master. Though the novice keeps her own god, she also forms a kind of spirit mother–spirit daughter apprentice relationship with the elder musok-in, learning her incantations and songs and working as a junior participant in her ceremonies. This period may last several years, and depending upon the strictness of the master, the trainee may also have to spend some of this time performing basic household chores.

The world of Musok is not uniform, however. Hyun-ju claims never to have suffered from any of the physical symptoms of shinbyeong, though she was visited by several spirits during her naerim stage. Her story is unusual: at the age of thirty-two, she was visited first by Jesus Christ, then the spirit of a Japanese samurai, then a Chinese monk. Each wanted her to accept naerim from him, and, following her instincts, she chose the monk. After this, the monk subjected her to a series of trials, such as having to repeatedly leap in the air, for six hours at a time. During this stage, which lasted several weeks, she also had to ward off the relentless entreaties of the samurai: in order to placate him, she spent another six hours per day bowing.

Because Hyun-ju never manifested shinbyeong symptoms, it was difficult for her to find an older shaman to perform her naerim gut. Those around her felt she had simply gone insane. She recounts becoming the subject of neighborhood gossip as a result of her unusual behavior. However, after she had approached several musok-in with her story, one established practitioner accepted her as an apprentice, thus beginning her initiation into Korea’s oldest tradition.

Life as a Musok-in

Today, musok-in are not ostracized on class grounds, as they were during the Joseon era, for the social structures of old have disappeared. However, because of their perceived spiritual power, many people fear them and, as a result, refrain from socializing with them. For the ordinary person, the musok-in is someone to be visited in times of trouble and avoided at other times. A writer or anthropologist planning to visit one is likely be warned by friends to be careful.

The musok-in is called on to provide gut, dancing and singing to communicate with the spirits while dressed in the multicolored robes that denote her profession. She might “ride the blades” during such a ceremony. This is the most famously sensational musok-in act, performed in a state of deep entrancement or ecstasy, when the musok-in dances barefoot on the edge of a knife without cutting herself, to show her power and intimidate malign spirits. Other musok-in have different calling cards. Hyun-ju is said to have the ability to lift a cow off the ground and place it on a spike, in demonstration of the physical strength provided to her by her gods.

A musok-in will also perform smaller rituals at the home or place of business of a client. Those opening new enterprises, for example, may call upon the spirit world by inviting a musok-in to perform a ceremony for good luck. Practices include putting banknotes between the trotters of a dead pig (pigs symbolize money and fortune) and the ritual placement of a dried pollack on the premises. One sometimes sees such fish long after the ceremony is over, as it is supposed to bring good luck as long as it remains in place.

The most common service is jeom, which is a form of one-on-one spiritual counseling. If one has a particular query—for example, “When will I get married?” or “Should I start my own business?”—one may consult a musok-in for advice from the spirit world. For many musok-in, jeom is the starting point for subsequent services recommended to the client: for example, a follow-up gut. For Hyun-ju, however, gut is “only for rich people.” Since it can be astonishingly expensive—a single ceremony may cost around 8 million won (about $7,500 U.S. dollars) or more—she never recommends it for people of ordinary means, opting instead to take them to the mountains for prayer. Much of Hyun-ju’s practice simply consists in listening to people’s problems and giving advice, much like a counselor.

Many of today’s elite Koreans make use of gut, just as Queen Min did in the nineteenth century. Members of chaebol families (chaebol being the large family-run business groups that dominate the economy) have been reported to pay for services for purposes ranging from business success to personal matters, as have politicians seeking electoral success. Hyun-ju has had several business, politician, and celebrity clients; she claims to have foretold the bankruptcy of one of her wealthiest patrons, after having seen a vision of him in rags.

Animism and Mountain Spirits

Musok is so broad and practical it is very hard to pin down as a system of beliefs and behaviors. However, stemming from Korea’s ancient past, it is fundamentally a form of animism. In animism, every natural entity in existence has a spirit or life force in the same way that people do—even things Westerners consider inanimate, like rocks and trees.

Some natural features hold more power than others. For instance, some multicentenarian pine trees are considered to have a character or personality of their own. A powerful tree can be a benefactor or village guardian, providing good fortune and serving as the focal point of the community. It was the practice of village elders to hold meetings around some of these trees in order to reach important decisions. Such venerable beings may have a temper when mistreated, though: one tree in the town of Gimje was said to bring bad luck on the house of anyone who took even one of its leaves. In the case of an angry tree, musok-in could offer gut ceremonies to it by way of placation.

Animals may also have a spiritual role. The tiger, which features prominently in the creation myth and is the national animal of Korea, was said to be a messenger of mountain spirits and a spiritual protector in its own right. However, the most important repositories of animist spirits in Korea are the mountains. Seventy percent of the peninsula is mountainous, so it seems natural that the tall peaks of Baekdu-san, Jiri-san, and Halla-san in particular have a great hold over the Korean psyche. Ascending the mountains has always been considered a way of getting closer to the spirit world, and thus there is a strong tradition of shamanistic practice at high altitude.

There is no ranking system for the spiritual power of mountains, and each musok-in will have her own auspicious peaks. However, certain mountains are widely understood to be more important than others. Halla-san, the tallest mountain in South Korea, is located on Jeju Island, a place known for its deep shamanistic culture and, according to some, for the historic use of gwangdae beoseot, magic mushrooms, in shamanic practice. Halla-san was so revered by locals that in 1901 a visiting journalist from Germany, Siegfried Genthe, was told by the governor, “You may at no price climb Halla.” The people believed that such an act would anger the mountain god and bring ruinous weather and a bad harvest in revenge.

One mountain in Seoul—Inwang-san—is a hotbed of gut and other ritualistic activity, so much so that the local authorities have erected signs discouraging it. For, on its slopes is Guksadang, the former shamanic shrine of the royal family, which was relocated from Namsan, another mountain beloved of musok-in (including Hyun-ju, who lives there). Guksadang is believed to enshrine the spirit of King Taejo, the founder of the Joseon dynasty. As the royal shrine, it was once private and forbidden. In today’s republic, however, it is open to all, and it is tended to by musok-in who visit it daily in order to practice their skills. There are many public shrines throughout Korea, and, like Guksadang, they are typically located on hills and mountains. They vary greatly in size and state of repair. Private shrines are also kept by gangshinmu musok-in. Hyun-ju, for instance, has one in her home, dedicated to her Chinese monk.

To the untrained eye, Guksadang resembles a small Korean Buddhist temple, but on virtually any day one can watch musok-in perform rituals such as the cutting of animal entrails (in place of a live sacrifice, which would be illegal), utter incantations, and dance. A small convenience store near Guksadang sells pollack, a fish commonly used in shamanic ceremonies, among its soft drinks and newspapers.

Inwang-san and the Guksadang shrine lie close by Cheong Wa Dae (the Blue House), South Korea’s presidential mansion, which is located behind the main palace of the Joseon dynasty, Gyeongbokgung. Just a short distance away from these focal points of power in the country’s capital, this mountain is the busiest site in all of Korean shamanism. This fact is less widely acknowledged than one would expect, which is testament to the paradoxical status Musok retains as a mysterious, non-mainstream set of activities that are in fact integral to Korean culture.

The Enduring Influence

Unlike Japanese Shinto, another set of animistic beliefs that became a vehicle for the state’s ideology in Meiji Japan and has been somewhat standardized in its rituals, Musok remains disparate. Its countless gods are worshipped in ways depending on the individual character of the musok-in and of the teachers who initiated her. Although a small number of deities are widely accepted, such as the Seven Star God (concerned with longevity), the Dragon King God (sailing and fishing), and the House-Beam God (household prosperity), even these are not worshipped in the same way by all.

This fluidity or malleability is amply shown by the nature of one of the most popular gods, Sanshin (the mountain god). While each mountain has its own god, which one may follow, it is also possible to worship this general mountain deity. He is usually represented as a bearded, old man, frequently accompanied by a tiger, but sometimes Sanshin is depicted as a woman. Since there are both male and female gods, and certain mountains are considered feminine—Gyeryong-san, for example—this is not inappropriate.

Pictures of Sanshin can be found at the majority of Buddhist temples in Korea, testament to the syncretic nature of spiritual practice in this country. Buddhism has blended with shamanism since it first arrived in the fourth century, and today a great many Buddhists consult with musok-in when they confront a dilemma or misfortune. The first interview this author sought with Hyun-ju had to be postponed because it coincided with the run-up to Buddha’s Birthday, a period when many of her Buddhist clients seek to consult with her about the future. At Inwang-san, a rock formation called Seonbawi (Zen Rock) is important to Buddhists; it lies less than a stone’s throw from Guksadang and is considered by local musok-in too to have spiritual power.

Even Korean Christians, who tend to disparage shamanism as “mumbo-jumbo” (in the words of one churchgoer) manifest certain Musok-derived influences in their activities. Christians have a tradition of holding prayer meetings in the mountains, for instance. Furthermore, materialism of the God-wants-you-to-be-rich variety appears to be much more prevalent in Christianity in Korea than elsewhere in Asia. Arguably, this relates the practical or materialistic aspect of shamanism that is still manifest today. Performing a Musok ritual at the opening of a shop is not so different from praying to God for long lines of customers.

Perhaps Musok’s most important gifts to Korea are practicality and flexibility. Having no set of commandments, fixed set of practices, or hierarchy of authorized gods, it accommodates and encourages pragmatism. To the end of achieving one’s goals, an adherent can consult different musok-in about the same problem and combine their counsel with the comfort taken from other religions. Hyun-ju even advises followers to “not believe (in Musok) too much”, for it can become addictive, like a drug if taken too far and thus detrimental to the follower. After all, the true purpose of Musok should be simply to help people. She may question her own ability, granting that not all her prophecies are correct, and jokes that if she were right one hundred percent of the time, she would be extremely rich. The most common misunderstanding about Musok, according to Hyun-ju, is that the practitioner has unlimited power to know, and do, anything.

These aspects of Musok—flexibility, pragmatism, openness to doubt, and easy acceptance of other beliefs—have had a positive effect on religious tolerance in general in Korea, and probably on Korean culture as well. A willingness to adapt has proven to be one of this country’s most fortunate possessions.