Korean women in Seoul or Incheon circa 1908 / Robert Neff Collection
A postcard of a Korean woman in the late 19th century / Courtesy of Diane Nars Collection
Described as "a dowdy female newspaper correspondent," Anna Northend Benjamin traveled extensively throughout East Asia and Russia documenting her experiences and observations. She was blessed with an amazing gift of writing, though, depending upon the reader, her harsh opinions could be seen as a curse. Despite spending less than a fortnight in Korea during the summer of 1900, she wrote enough about the Hermit Kingdom to rankle Horace N. Allen, the conservative American minister to Korea.
Nothing escaped her eye — or her venomous pen. Her descriptions of the country were heavily tinged with sympathy, curiosity and sarcastic elitism. They were often bold and somewhat offensive — even by the standards of her time.
“We may say without hesitation that the lot of the Korean woman is the most pitiable, just as the position of her people is the most deplorable, in the Far East," she wrote. "In the lower classes she must work, work, work. In the upper classes she must be entombed.”
Benjamin wrote extensively about the daily tribulations of Korean women but, unlike many female Western observers, devoted little attention to their clothing. What she did write seems to have been gleaned from other sources and supported her narrative of women being oppressed by misogyny and tradition.
A servant in the palace, circa 1885, photographed by Pierre Louis Jouy / Annual Report of the Regents of the Smithsonian Institute (1891).
“Several hundred years ago, when Korea was fighting the Chinese, the entire Korean army and all the men in the capital of Seoul had marched out in defense of that capital to meet an attacking force toward the north. At the same time another force, unknown to the Koreans, approached Seoul from the south. Since every able-bodied man had already gone to the attack, the city and the remaining inhabitants were threatened with destruction. The Korean women, however, like their sisters in other parts of the world, devised a plan by which they might frustrate the enemy. They donned their husbands' long white garments with the wide sleeves, and gathering together, marched boldly toward the foe who, appalled by the sight of such an unexpected force of Koreans, fled in haste, and the city was saved. When the army returned and it was made known what the women had done, it was decreed that thereafter they should wear men's sleeves hanging from their veils as a mark of honor and a badge of their bravery in the national crisis.”
According to Benjamin, Korea's misogyny originated from China, from where every “degrading idea” was imported and carried out to the extreme. “The wife is not more than a chattel, seldom seen before the marriage, which is arranged by a ‘go between,' and after marriage to talk to her even is a degradation for the husband,” she described. Even the wedding customs, were, in her opinion, oppressive.
“The rules of ironclad Korean etiquette demand that” that the bridesmaid wear her hair in a massive headdress. “Huge masses of false hair — ‘swatches,' as we call them — are piled in a fantastic way on the unfortunate woman's head, till a wonderful effect is obtained.”
A Korean wedding, circa 1920-1930s / Robert Neff Collection
Considering her short stay in Korea, I doubt she actually attended a wedding, and instead based her observations on what American missionaries told her. Even Isabella Bird Bishop, arguably the most popular travel writer of the time, did not describe bridesmaids in her book, “Korea and Her Neighbors.” Bishop did, however, echo the sentiment that Korean men treated their wives as “valuable chattels” and that a “wife's first duty” was silence — especially in the higher classes. However, she added in balance, “I am far from saying that the [Korean] women fret and groan under this system, or crave for the freedom which European women enjoy.” To support her claim, Bishop asked an “intelligent” Korean woman what she thought of the manner in which Westerners treated their wives. The answer was somewhat surprising. “We think that your husbands don't care for you very much.”
I find it rather strange that Benjamin neglected to mention the fashion enjoyed by lower classes of women — bare breasts. Many contemporary male visitors described encountering bare-breasted women — especially in the countryside.
According to “The City History Compilation Committee of Seoul,” a book published by the Seoul government nearly two decades ago, “poor women and female servants could not even dream of wearing a cloak. They strode about the city freely in their own old clothes. Fashions revealing the breasts were a sort of privilege (?) enjoyed only by those women who had given birth to their first son.”
A servant, circa 1885, photographed by Pierre Louis Jouy / Annual Report of the Regents of the Smithsonian Institute (1891)
In Seoul, however, things were changing rapidly. Again, according to the Seoul government publication:
“In the 1880s, a new type of woman emerged, who traded the extravagance of traditional Korean clothing for the new fashion of Western clothing. These new women were the women of the Enlightened Party and the so-called ‘Evangelist Women.' After the 1890s, more and more women wearing the latest fashions in Western clothing were seen on the streets of Seoul. Seoul was alive with talk of these ‘new women' and ‘Western-style beauties.'”
Apparently as late as the early 20th century, some women still walked the streets in breast-revealing clothing, causing one missionary woman to take it upon herself to carry pieces of cloth and safety pins so that she could cover them up and make them “decent.”
Korean women were truly oppressed, not only by conservative tradition but by conservative progress.
My appreciation to Diane Nars for her assistance and allowing me to use one of her images.
Robert Neff has authored and co-authored several books, including Letters from Joseon, Korea Through Western Eyes and Brief Encounters.