Sim Chung

For older readers: this version includes a fourteen-year-old offering herself for a sea sacrifice, parental death and magical recovery from blindness. Its rescue is part of a wonder tale, not a promise that self-sacrifice will be rewarded.

Mr. Sim was greatly respected in the Korean village where he lived. He belonged to the yangban, the gentleman class, and when he went out he walked with a gentleman’s slow, swinging stride, and when he rode his favorite donkey or was carried in his chair, a runner went ahead calling on common people to clear the road. Yet his rank was not high, and though he was much admired as a scholar, his income was hardly enough for the position his learning deserved.

His parents had been very lucky in arranging his marriage to a beautiful and accomplished young woman, the daughter of a neighboring gentleman. She was famous for her beauty and grace, and everyone admired her mind. She could read and write not only Korean but also Chinese characters, and the shoes, purses and other things she embroidered were the pride of her mother and friends. She once embroidered a set of panels showing scenes from history, and her father sent them to the king, who praised her skill and had the panels made into a screen that stood behind his seat for a long time, where he never tired of admiring it.

Mr. Sim had not seemed very excited about his coming wedding, but the moment he saw his bride’s face as she unveiled at the ceremony, he was completely enchanted, and he could hardly wait for all the formalities to be over so that she could be his constant companion.

It was an unusually happy marriage. The two were well matched in mind, each found the other charming and neither ever showed the slightest disappointment in the choice their parents had made. They used to stroll into the little garden by the women’s rooms and sit in the moonlight, making plans and sharing the riches of their well-stocked minds. Their dearest wish was for a son, and all their plans centered on it. But the years came and went, and no child came. The wife consulted priestesses, and the husband, after long and bitter disappointment, grew sad at heart and cared little for the world, which he felt looked down on him. He buried himself in his books and shut himself up in his own rooms, leaving his poor wife alone in the women’s quarters. With too much study, too little exercise and a failing appetite, he grew thin and worn, and his eyesight also began to fail.

His wife suffered too, but she bore up with patience and kept hoping despite every disappointment. She worried about her husband’s health and felt ashamed that she had no name in the world except “the wife of Sim”, when she longed to be known as the mother of the son they had both dreamed of day and night.

After fifteen years of waiting, Mrs. Sim had a dream, a dazzling one, in which a star came down to her from the sky. It woke her, and she sent for her husband to tell him that their blessing was on its way. She was right. A child was born to them, but to their dismay it was a girl. Still, after fifteen weary years of waiting, they were not going to be unhappy with a daughter, however much they had hoped for a son.

The child grew and brought her parents renewed happiness. Allen’s narrator describes her as untouched by childhood illness and says an attempt at smallpox inoculation did not take. This belongs to the tale’s idealised portrayal of her extraordinary childhood, not evidence about immunity or treatment.

By the age of three, she promised to outshine even her mother’s famous beauty and talents. Her cheeks were like full-blown roses, and whenever she opened her pretty mouth, out came ripples of silvery laughter or words of grown-up wisdom. Her parents’ hearts, so long full of tears, were light and joyful now, and they swelled with pride at all the reports of their child’s wisdom. Her father delighted in her company and kept her at his side to guide his steps, for his weak eyes were failing.

Just when their happiness seemed too great to last, it was cut short by the mother’s death. Father and daughter were plunged into deep grief, and when the father came out of it, he was completely blind. Soon the question was where their daily food would come from. Little by little their household treasures went to the brokers to be sold, and in ten years the house and everything in it were gone.

Now the father had to beg. His daughter, Sim Chung, was a young woman, and the family’s social expectations kept her from leading him through the streets, so he often had to find his way without a guide. One day he fell into a deep ditch and could not climb out. After lying there miserably for a long time, he heard footsteps and called for help. “I’m blind, not drunk!” he cried.

The passing stranger said, “I know very well you are not drunk. You are blind, it is true, but not past curing.”

“Who are you, to know so much about me?” asked the blind man.

“I am the old priest of the temple in the mountain fortress.”

“Then what do you mean, I am not blind forever?”

“I am a prophet, and I have had a vision about you. If you offer three hundred bags of rice to the Buddha of our temple, your sight will be restored, you will be given rank and honor, and your daughter will become the first lady in all Korea.”

“But I am poor as well as blind,” he answered. “How can I promise such a princely gift?”

“You may give me a written promise and pay it off as you can,” said the priest.

“Very well, give me a brush and paper.” So they went into a house, and the blind man signed a promise to pay the huge price of his sight. As he made his way home, tired, bruised and hungry, he could not help smiling to himself at the thought of promising so much rice when he did not have a single grain to eat.

At last he found a little work pounding rice in the stone mortars. It was hard labor for a man used to his old life, but it kept them from starving, and his daughter cooked his meals as nicely as she could. One night, as his dinner was set out on the little low table in front of him where he sat on the floor, the priest arrived and demanded payment. The old blind man lost his appetite and would not eat. He had to tell his daughter about the bargain he had made, and though she was full of grief and dismayed at the enormous price, she seemed to hope that somehow it could be paid and his sight restored.

That night, after bathing at midnight, she lay on a mat under the open sky and prayed to heaven that her poor father might have his health and sight. As she prayed, she fell asleep and dreamed that her mother came down from heaven to comfort her. Her mother told her not to worry, for a way would be found to pay for the rice, and soon all would be well with their little family.

The next day she happened to hear about a great merchant whose big ships sailed to China to trade. He was in great trouble because of an evil spirit that lived in the waters his ships had to cross. For some time, people said, he had not been able to take his ships past that dangerous spot, and he was losing a great deal of money. Now it was said that he was eager to calm the spirit with the offering the wise men had called for. Priests had told him that if a young maiden were given to the spirit, it would be calmed and the trouble would end, and he had offered a large sum to find such a girl.

When Sim Chung heard this, she decided it must be the answer her dream had promised. Resolved to offer herself, she put on old clothes and fasted on the journey so that she would look pale and worn, like someone in mourning. She had left food ready for her father and told him she was going to bow at her mother’s grave to thank her for appearing in a dream.

The moment the merchant saw her, he was struck by her beauty and dignity, in spite of her attempt to disguise herself. He told her that he had no heart for killing anyone, least of all a girl as fine as she seemed, and he advised her not to offer herself. But she told him her story and said she would give herself for the three hundred bags of rice.

“Ah! Now I see how truly noble you are. I did not know such devotion to a parent existed outside the books of the ancients. I will send to my master for the rice,” said the man, who was only the steward of a greater merchant.

She received the rice and took it to the priest in a long procession of a hundred and fifty ponies, each straining under two heavy bags. With the debt paid and her fate sealed, grief swept over her. She could not explain it to her father. She mourned for the loneliness that would come to him when she was gone and wondered how he would live until his sight came back. She lay down and prayed, “I am only fourteen years old, and I have just four hours left to live. What will become of my poor father? Who will look after him? Kind heaven, protect him when I am gone.”

Wild with sorrow, she went and sat on her father’s knee, but she could not hold back her sobs, and he asked her what was wrong. Since it was done and could not be undone, she decided the time had come to tell him, and she tried to break it gently. But when the whole truth dawned on the poor old man, it nearly broke him. He clutched her to his chest and cried, “My child, my daughter, my only comfort, I will not let you go! What good are eyes to me if I can never look on your lovely face?”

Their tears and sobs mingled, and the neighbors, hearing the uproar in the usually quiet hut, came to see what was wrong. When they learned the reason for the old man’s grief, they joined in the weeping. Sim Chung begged them to look after her father when she no longer could, and they promised to do so. In the middle of all this heartbreak, a stranger rode up on a donkey and asked for the Sim family. He arrived just in time to see what the sacrifice was costing them, and he comforted the girl by giving her a note for fifty bags of rice to support her father when she was gone. She took it gratefully and gave it to the neighbors to keep for him. Then she got ready, said a last goodbye and left her fainting father to go to her bed in the sea.

In time the ship carrying Sim Chung, leading a long line of ships, reached the place where the evil spirit ruled. She wore bridal clothes the merchant had provided. The merchant tried one last time to calm the spirit with an offering of food, but it was no use. So Sim Chung prayed to heaven, said goodbye to everyone and leaped into the sea. At once all was quiet above. The waves died down, the sea grew as calm as a lake and the ships sailed on safely.

When Sim Chung came to her senses, she was sitting in a little boat drawn by fish, and pretty maidens were giving her a drink from a carved jade bottle. She asked who they were and where she was going. “We are servants of the King of the Sea,” they said, “and we are taking you to his palace.”

Sim Chung wondered whether this was death, and if it was, she thought it very pleasant. They passed through forests of waving plants and saw great lazy fish feeding in the water until they reached the palace grounds. Then her amazement knew no bounds, for the massive walls were built of precious stones she had only ever seen as jewelry. Pearls capped the nails in the great doors, everywhere there was a lavish display of gems and precious metals and the paths were of polished black marble that gleamed in the water. The light passing through the water seemed to make clouds of beautiful colors, and rainbows played everywhere.

Soon a mighty noise was heard, and they stepped aside as the King passed by, led by an army carrying bright embroidered satin banners, every bearer blowing an enormous shell. The King rode in a golden chair on the shoulders of a hundred men, followed by a hundred musicians and as many beautiful dancers in wonderful headdresses and rich costumes.

Sim Chung did not want to appear before such a grand king, but she was assured that she would be treated kindly. The sea maidens dressed her in clothes fit for the palace of the Sea King, and she was carried in a chair to the King’s rooms. The King treated her with great respect, and all the maidens and servants bowed to her. She protested that she did not deserve such honor. “I am only a beggar’s daughter,” she said. “I thought I was giving my life for him when these maidens rescued me. I am not worthy of your respect.”

The King smiled a little and said, “Ah, I know more about you than you know about yourself. I am the Sea King, and we know all about the doings of the stars that shine in the sky above, for they often visit us on bright evenings. You were a star yourself, and a beautiful one, many say, with plenty of admirers. You favored one star above the rest, and in your fondness for him you misused your post as cup-bearer to the King of Heaven and let him help himself to all the finest wines in the palace. So, without your realizing it, the special wines the King liked best were all drunk up, and when the matter was looked into, your fault came to light.

“As a punishment, the King of Heaven decided to banish you both to earth. But fearing that if he sent you together you might find each other there, he sent your sweetheart first, kept you in prison for a long time and then sent you down as your former sweetheart’s daughter. He is the man you call your father. But Heaven has seen how devoted you are to him and has relented. From now on you will be greatly favored, as a reward for your faithfulness.” Then he sent her to fine rooms prepared for her, where she was to rest and recover until it was time to go back to earth.

After a proper time of rest and feasting on royal food, Sim Chung’s beauty was more than restored. She had grown into a woman, and her beauty was dazzling. Her cheeks seemed tinted by the lovely colors of the waters through which she now moved with ease, and her mind blossomed like a flower in the rare company of the Sea King and his gifted people.

When the time came for her to go back to the world above, a large and beautiful flower was brought to her room. It was made so that Sim Chung could hide inside it, and its delicious scent and juice would be all the food she needed. When she had said goodbye to her unusual friends and taken her place inside the flower, it was carried up to the surface of the sea at the very spot where she had leaped in.

She had not waited long when a ship came into sight. It was her friend the merchant’s ship. As he came near the old place of danger, he marveled at the sight of such a beautiful flower growing and blooming in so strange a spot, where only evil had been expected, and he was nearly overcome by its powerful perfume. He steered close, lifted the flower safely into his ship and congratulated himself on finding such a rare and valuable present for his king, for he made up his mind to take it to the palace if he could get it there safely.

The plan succeeded. The strange flower with its stranger tenant was presented to His Majesty, who was so delighted that he spent his days gazing at it and neglected the business of state. He had a glass house built for it in an inner courtyard and never seemed to tire of watching his new treasure.

At night, when all was quiet, Sim Chung used to come out and stretch her limbs, walking in the moonlight. But one night the King, feeling unwell and restless, decided to go and breathe the flower’s rich scent to calm himself, and so he caught sight of Sim Chung before she could hide. He was astonished, and a little frightened, and he demanded to know who she was. She was frightened too and slipped into her flower, but to the amazement of them both, the flower vanished, leaving her standing alone where it had stood a moment earlier.

The King was about to run away, but she called to him not to be afraid, for she was a human being and not a spirit, as he must think. The King came closer and was lost in admiration of her matchless beauty. Just then there was a great noise outside, and servants came to say that all the generals and heads of departments were asking to see him on very important business. Very reluctantly, His Majesty went to find out what it was about. An officer skilled in astronomy reported that the night before, they had seen a brilliant star come down from the sky and land on the palace, and they believed it meant good fortune for the royal family.

Then the King told them about the flower and the wonderful heavenly maiden he had seen. As it happened, the queen had died, and it was soon decided that the King should marry this remarkable young woman. The wedding was announced and everything was made ready. Since she seemed to have no parents, the ceremony took place in the royal wedding hall, and it was a grand occasion of state.

Never was a man more charmed by a woman. The King would not leave her side day or night, and the business of the kingdom was almost entirely forgotten. At last Sim Chung scolded her husband gently, telling him it was not right for a king to spend all his time in the women’s rooms, and that if he cared so little about ruling, others might find a chance to seize his throne. She urged him to give his days to his work and be content to spend his evenings with her. He saw how wise she was, said so and promised to follow her advice.

After some time in such luxury, Sim Chung grew lonely and longed for her poor father, though she despaired of ever seeing him. She did not know whether he was alive or dead, and the more she thought of it, the sadder she grew, until her heart was always full of tears and they often spilled from her beautiful eyes. One day the King saw her weeping and anxiously asked what was wrong. She told him that a strange dream about a poor blind man was weighing on her, and that she wished to do something to ease the sufferings of all the blind men in the country.

The King marveled at her great heart and offered to do anything to help her carry out her noble plan. Together they agreed to invite all the blind men of the country to a great feast, where each would be properly clothed, well fed and given a present of money.

The order went out, and on the day of the feast the Queen hid herself in a pavilion where she could look down and watch the strange gathering. She watched all through the first day but saw no one like her lost father. On the second day she kept her anxious watch, but in vain. She was about to give up and mourn him as lost when, just as the feast was ending on the third day, a feeble old man in rags came tottering up. The servants, worn out from serving so many, were neglecting him and about to send him away for coming too late, but the Queen scolded them sharply and ordered that the old man be properly fed.

He seemed half starved and fell on the food hungrily. There was something about this forlorn old man that held the Queen’s attention, and the servants, noticing this, dressed him with special care. When he had eaten his fill, he was brought to the Queen’s pavilion. She looked closely at him for a few moments and then, to the surprise and alarm of all her attendants, cried out, “My father! My father!” and fell senseless at his feet.

Her maids hurried to tell the King about their mistress’s strange behavior, and he came to see for himself. They rubbed her hands and held strong-smelling medicines under her nose until she came round, and she was allowed to tell her wonderful story, much of which the King knew. But the poor old blind man could barely gather his wits enough to understand what was happening. As the truth slowly dawned on him, he cried, “Oh, my child, can the dead come back to us? I hear your voice, I feel you in my arms, but how can I know it is you when I have no eyes? Away with these useless eyes!” He rubbed at them fiercely with his hands, and to his amazement and joy the scales fell away and he stood rejoicing, able to see.

His Majesty was overjoyed to see his lovely Queen happy at last. He made the old man an officer of high rank, gave him a fine house and arranged his marriage to the accomplished daughter of an officer of suitable rank. And so every part of the prophecy came true, just as the old priest and the King of the Sea had foretold.

About this story

“Sim Chung” tells of a daughter who agrees to a deadly sea offering after her father promises an impossible payment for restored sight. It is also sung in the traditional pansori style as Simcheong-ga. This retelling follows the version Horace Newton Allen, an American missionary doctor and diplomat in Seoul, published in English in his Korean Tales of 1889.

Allen subtitled the story “The Dutiful Daughter,” presenting it through the theme of filial devotion. His version should not be treated as a complete statement of Korean values or as evidence that its sea sacrifice describes an established historical custom. Sim Chung’s supernatural identity and return are particular features of the literary telling used here.

Read the original: Korean Tales (Project Gutenberg)

For older readers: a family under pressure, a threatened child sacrifice and a supernatural reunion, with discussion of the adults’ responsibilities.

A debt no child should have to pay

The priest turns a promise of sight into an enormous debt, and the merchants turn danger at sea into a demand for a young life. Sim Chung understands her choice through devotion and a reassuring dream, but the adults still possess choices of their own. Her father’s protest makes the conflict explicit: seeing is no gain to him if it costs his daughter. The magical rescue should not turn those demands into a real duty for a child.

The final feast offers a different form of care. People receive food, clothing and money without first being miraculously cured, and Sim Chung insists that the late arrival be fed rather than dismissed. Her father’s restored sight completes the wonder tale, but support and dignity are already owed to him while he is blind. The story’s eye-rubbing and falling scales are supernatural imagery, not a treatment.

Compare two ways of offering help

Put the priest’s promise beside Sim Chung’s feast. What does each require from the person in need, and what does each provide? Identify a moment when a merchant, neighbour or official could reduce the family’s danger without asking Sim Chung to surrender her life.

Questions to ask

• Why did Sim Chung offer herself to the merchant?
• What did the Sea King tell her about her past?
• How did Sim Chung find her father, and what happened when they met?

More stories like this

• Hyung-bo and Nahl-bo — another famous Korean tale from Allen’s collection
• The Story of Urashima Taro, the Fisher Lad — a visit to the Dragon King’s palace beneath the sea
• The Sky Bridge of Birds — another Korean tale of stars sent down from heaven