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Dong Yi — final thoughts
television
It’s easy to dismiss shows like Dong Yi as being trite romantic melodrama. Worse, of course, is the cross-cultural factor. Not only is this historical romance, but it’s also from a foreign culture. So, before going any further, let’s put all our prejudices to one side and take a deep breath. Yes, this is a sageuk serial but, as in other countries, Korea has a fascination with its own history and, more importantly, likes to universalise events to make each retelling of their history relevant to modern viewers. The Joseon Dynasty has been a particularly rich seam for film and television directors to mine yet, as time has passed and sophistication increased, we’ve moved on from the versions based on folk tales or the strict historical record, to contemporary shows that mix folk tales, legends and pure invention into the history. For the Koreans, the quality of the drama is everything and, for a while, the viewers were distracted from the contemporary politics by the introduction of more sexual themes in their television dramas. Now, we’re back to the idea of history as allegory. Some like to call this fusion sageuk.
Han Hyo Joo carries the leading role exceptionally well
The problem for scriptwriters is always how to make a version of the historical record acceptable to modern sensibilities. If they take a literal view, they would be forced to show the patriarchy of earlier times with the only women rising above the fray being the concubines who were often power-hungry like Jang Hee-Bin. So creating female heroines to generate mass market appeal gets its first real boost in Dae Jang Geum or Jewel in the Palace (2003), where a commoner kitchen cook, Seo Jang Geum (Lee Young Ae), rises through the ranks to become Joseon’s first female royal physician. Thematically, this serial focuses on her strength to persevere no matter what the obstacles. This is not pure stubbornness. It’s the promotion of the notion of meritocracy — that those with ability will get on.
Ji Jin Hee proved to be the perfect foil to Han Hyo Joo
Which neatly brings us to Dong Yi, the latest version of this increasingly refined approach. This is a fusion between the traditional politics of court intrigue and an inspiring drama about a girl of common birth, but exceptional ability, who turns down the opportunity to become Queen. What clearly distinguishes this from the earlier dramas is the rather subversive subtext. This is a woman who beats the system by refusing promotion whenever possible, giving up her rank when she can, and thinking not of herself but only of others. Whereas the average court ladies would exploit the information they hold to blackmail or bring down their enemies, she prefers to sit quietly. Most of the blackmailing and disclosures in this serial are made by her supporters. The irony in all this is that most of those around her completely misjudge her. They believe she is either naïve and stupid, or has a hidden agenda they cannot immediately identify. As a result, they plan unnecessary countermeasures and are shown bringing ruin upon themselves. This is a very ASEAN or Chinese view, typified by the martial arts styles like Tai chi chuan where the soft movements beat the hard. In more general terms, it reminded me of the tactics of Alexander Nevski who led his more heavily-armed enemies on to the ice of Lake Peipus. He won just by retreating — well, there was some fighting as well, but you get the idea.
Lee So-Yeon as the scorpion unable to change her nature in the palace
In a predemocracy period when a dog-eat-dog political fighting style usually wins, it sends an interesting message to modern viewers when they see a major government institution reformed by soft power. To improve the lot of the common people all you need is altruism and a willingness to be self-sacrificing. Even the King gets in on the act, being prepared to abdicate in favour of his older son so that the younger can be named the heir apparent. In historical terms, this was not unprecedented but, in the context of this story, it reinforces the more pervasive message that even the most senior leaders must consider the country before their personal interests. In this instance, the stability of Korea was threatened. Should the Crown Prince be unable to produce children, he would become the pawn of those wanting to influence the succession. With a strong heir apparent and the King acting as regent to protect his weaker son, civil war would be avoided and the future preserved.
The irony, of course, is that Korea today is still strictly divided into classes based on family and the credentials the people obtain as they move through the education system. The Korean College Scholastic Ability Test replaces the rigorous Civil Service Examinations that were so important during the Joseon Dynasty. Without a high passing mark in a competitive field, there’s no chance of access to the better jobs. This is a Confucian view of what represents a just and fair outcome. The more objective the judgement of achievement, the more fair the exam is claimed to be and, therefore, the more access to the better opportunities in life can be controlled. In some senses, we may say little has changed since the Joseon Dynasty in which we had rigid class structures based on family and a rote-based learning and examination system. That’s why it’s all the more important to see figures like Seo Jang Geum and Dong Yi succeeding despite the lack of family and credentials. People today need to be reminded they too can beat rigid systems based on credentials, and succeed by setting up their own businesses or proving to others they have the skills. With the right attitude and an above-average level of ability, anyone can be a success!
Choi Jong-Hwan wonderful when on screen but underused
In a way all this allegory would be of little interest were it not for the quality of the performances from four of the actors. I cannot sing the praises of Ji Jin Hee too highly. It’s an immensely assured performance of great warmth, beautifully capturing the gentle man inside a ruler confident in his power. I prefer Han Hyo Joo’s portrayal of Dong Yi before she gets caught up in the end-game with the Jangs. Once the real fight begins, there’s a certain one-note quality to the acting. I think this is in part a problem with the script which makes her less positive and more reactive, but she does sit or stand around looking a bit lost for quite long periods of time. Lee So-Yeon as Jang Hee Bin remained compulsive watchable throughout. Even when she was on the ropes, she still managed to maintain a great public façade, only giving into frustrated tears when in private. Then, when Hee-Bin finally left, we could continue watching Choi Jong-Hwan as Jang Moo-Yul, the most interesting of all the court players. His chameleon-like ability to hide in plain view, not seeming to do anything but quietly advance his cause, was a delight. I was sorry he allowed himself to ignore the obvious. It was not wholly his fault. When you have been surrounded by people who consistently fit your model of how people behave, you can always be blindsided by the one or two who act differently. I hoped he would reach an accommodation much as Court Lady Yoo (Lim Seong-Min) took her second chance. It would have offered more hope for the future if an appeal to intelligence could produce an effective compromise.
It has been a wonderful three months watching this sageuk series unwind and my thanks go to the terrestrial station that screened it five days a week, albeit that it butchered the original episodes to produce more than seventy episodes. This confused me and all those who have been trying to relate my reviews to the original episode numbers.
For more general discussions of the social and political context for the serial, see:
Dong Yi — the politics
Dong Yi — superstition and magic
Dong Yi — the minor characters
Click here for the reviews of the narrative itself:
Dong Yi — the first 22 episodes;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 23 to 29;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 30 to 36;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 37 to 41;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 42 to 47;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 48 to 50;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 51 to 54;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 55 to 63;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 64 to 69;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 70 to the end.
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 70 to the end
This is a spoiler-rich discussion of what happens in these episodes so do not read this post if you want the experience of watching the serial unfold onscreen. Further, these episode numbers are based on the terrestrial broadcasts I have seen and not on downloaded or DVD episodes. It’s possible that these numbers do not match your experience.
I suppose there should be rejoicing in the streets because the Jang clan has finally come unstuck. Their assassins have been captured and, with Choi Dong Yi (Han Hyo Joo) undergoing treatment, Shim Woon-Taek (Kim Dong-Yoon) passes on the good news about the curse to the King (Ji Jin Hee). Needless to say, he’s very disappointed in everyone involved and suggests the interrogators ask a few pertinent questions. What makes this interesting are the reactions of Dong Yi, Crown Prince Kyung-Jong (Yoon Chan) and Jang Hee-Bin (Lee So-Yeon).
Shim Woon-Taek finally tells the King about the curse
For Dong Yi, there’s frustration. It need never have come to this if the Jang clan had made better choices. But it’s the old scorpion story of the animal that can’t change its essential nature. If you put a predator into a jungle, it fights for dominance. Sadly, the palace is a jungle where the most dangerous animals fight and kill. It should not be so but such is the way the power game is played. So Hee-Bin sees nothing wrong in trying to kill Dong Yi. That’s just the way the world works. Indeed, she has no faith Dong Yi can remain uncorrupted by those around her. As the threats to her son multiply, Hee-Bin expects Dong Yi to run into the arms of the strong as the only way of keeping the young Prince, Lee Geum (Lee Hyung-Suk) alive. Sooner or later, she opines, Dong Yi will kill or be killed.
This makes her realpolitik appeal at the last breath all the more calculating. Having said she will never apologise, she sees the only one left standing is the only one who might be able to protect the Crown Prince. So in the interests of preserving the Royal Succession, Hee-Bin falls to the ground and begs Dong Yi to be the Crown Prince’s mother. Hee-Bin finally goes with dignity, supping down the poison in a quiet ceremony in the palace. Jang Hee-Jae (Kim Yoo Suk) and his mother, Lady Yoon (Choi Ran), have to face being carted through the streets where the likes of Lady Park (Lee Suk) can incite the crowd to throw stones — revenge is in vogue even though there may be karma involved.
Kim Yoo Suk as Jang Hee-Jae suffers a little torture before being executed
Wracked by guilt that his disclosures to the King have contributed to the uncovering of the family’s crimes, the Crown Prince wants to give up everything and die with his mother. Dong Yi and the young Prince are doing their best to rescue him from depression and there are signs of a thaw.
When Dong Yi refuses to become the new Queen, she avoids direct conflict with the nobility. The most extreme right-wingers are not only averse to bending the knee to a commoner, but even baulk at the notion of accepting a half-blood like the young prince. When Dong Yi also turns Jang Moo-Yul (Choi Jong-Hwan) away, he allies himself with the radical right who want to kill the young prince to avoid any problems with the succession. To achieve their aim, they plan to exploit the inexperience of the new Queen In-Won (Oh Yeon-Seo) and move the young prince out of the palace where he will be easier to kill.
Oh Yeon-Seo as the new Queen In-Won tries to ban the Crown Prince's porridge
The appointment of the new Queen is not explained. It seems to be a recruitment campaign where a few eligible ladies are headhunted into an interview panel with a winner eventually emerging. She seems to be a stickler for getting everything in the right place which makes the failure of the King to take her to one side to explain the situation all the more contrived. In their first serious meeting, Dong Yi warns her she will not get very far unless she quickly learns to distinguish truth from the more pervasive lies. In the lying corner comes Jang Moo-Yul who manipulates the Queen into marrying off the young prince. The court’s convention is that married princes have to live outside the palace. This threat shows Dong Yi at her most formidable. At the suggestion of Kim Goo-Sun (Maeng Sang-Hun), her exploitation of the local superstition about a kingly spirit potentially anointing the young prince is delightful. What’s also interesting is the new Queen’s incomprehension as to why Dong Yi should have selected the daughter of a scholar as the young prince’s wife. Jang Moo-Yul is quickly on the case, arguing this is obviously a deep-laid plot by Dong Yi to unseat the Crown Prince, but the Queen is showing she has a brain. A sign more obviously signalled when her attempt to turn away food prepared for the Crown Prince on safety grounds is rapidly rejected by the Crown Price who roundly asserts Dong Yi is the only one who cares about him in the palace.
The leader of the blood-thirsty right wing nobles
In the meantime, Jang Moo-Yul is struggling to understand the latest secret moves from the King. For him, it’s never appropriate to accept things at face value. A decision to confirm the Crown Prince as heir and throw Dong Yi out of the palace cannot be the real intention of a King known to be in love with Dong Yi. So, after killing a few guards, he knows the King intends to abdicate. He immediately jumps to the wrong conclusion, namely that Dong Yi would then have all the power and would come after him. So now, with the King out of the palace to talk with the Chinese about his proposed abdication, this is the time to launch a final attack to dispose of Dong Yi and the half-commoner prince.
Choi Jong-Hwan as Jang Moo-Yul arrested in his moment of triumph
It has been a delight to watch Jang Moo-Yul sitting or standing quietly as he calculates what’s happening. There’s a great calmness about him. But he’s hitched his horses to the wrong wagon this time. Even though it’s a well-crafted plot to threaten the Crown Prince and blame it on Dong Yi, and he thinks he can talk the Queen into arresting everyone (and hopefully executing them before the King returns), some of this is less than credible. Does he not think the King will see what has happened? Then we have the survival of Cha Jeon-Soo (Bae Su-Bin) when he willingly runs into the trap. . . But, in the spirit of the program, this is a good way of ending all the conflict and giving the King a chance to purge all the most dangerous nobles. The new Queen turns out to be a human being behind her stickler facade and solves the problem of the royal succession.
I think we could have done without the marriage of Oh Ho-Yang (Yeo Ho-Min), the nutty son, to a Dong Yi look-alike, but it did provide some comic relief and tie up a script loose end. The final episode gives us a rerun of the original scenario of a murder blamed on an innocent commoner. But now Dong Yi has set herself up as a Champion of the People, all investigative hands are called into play and the King has fun stomping on the corrupt nobility and their lackeys. There are moments of sentimentality but it has a feel-good quality about it that celebrates the spirit of the show. It’s good to see Chief Seo Yong-Gi (Jeong Jin-Yeon) smile again. He went from happy minion to dour leader after the death of his father, but now can finally relax as he also leaves the palace. Uncle Cha outlives everyone and the Kingly kids look into the future with bright eyes thanks to the good upbringing from the King and Dong Yi.
For more general discussions of the social and political context for the serial, see:
Dong Yi — the politics
Dong Yi — superstition and magic
Dong Yi — the minor characters
Click here for the reviews of the narrative itself:
Dong Yi — the first 22 episodes;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 23 to 29;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 30 to 36;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 37 to 41;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 42 to 47;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 48 to 50;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 51 to 54;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 55 to 63;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 64 to 69;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 70 to the end.
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 64 to 69
This is a spoiler-rich discussion of what happens in these episodes so do not read this post if you want the experience of watching the serial unfold onscreen. Further, these episode numbers are based on the terrestrial broadcasts I have seen and not on downloaded or DVD episodes. It’s possible that these numbers do not match your experience.
It’s always sad when a major character dies and, in this instance, the death of Queen Inhyeon (Park Ha Sun) is thoroughly milked. The King (Ji Jin Hee) is particularly affected by guilt because, as a marriage of convenience, he never actually loved the woman and showed her little warmth during her life. As alway, this is futile remorse. After her death, there’s nothing he can actually do to rescue his failings except honour her memory. As a dying request, she asks the King to make Choi Dong Yi (Han Hyo Joo) the Queen. She believes this is the only way to protect both Princes. This creates a problem for the King because Dong Yi is not of noble blood and, inevitably, the conservatives in the court will object. In secret he plans to raise Dong Yi to a position that can only be filled by a noble. If confirmed, this will pave the way to her becoming Queen.
Dong Yi has been rather passive of late. When she started off, she was rather more can-do. For the last few episodes, she’s been wandering the palace looking a bit helpless while the Queen finally stepped into the battle directly. With the loss of the Queen, Dong Yi has lost a key friend and must now resume her more active stance. Even the young Prince, Lee Geum (Lee Hyung-Suk), gets in on the act, making a wreath to drive away the Queen’s illness only to deliver it too late. However, the sprog did at least find the half-burnt “voodoo” doll while grubbing around for the right kind of grass, so he did prove useful.
Cha Jeon-Soo (Bae Su-Bin) rescues Crown Prince Kyung-Jong (Yoon Chan)
So now we have Dong Yi offering a truce to Jang Hee-Bin (Lee So-Yeon). She thinks back to the time when, dressed in her silk dress, the young court lady recognised her as the fugitive but let her go. To prove her good intentions she hands over the voodoo doll and its associated name tag. This tempts Lady Jang. She half wants to believe Dong Yi will keep her word. Except, of course, the not very bright and emotionally paranoid Jang Hee-Jae (Kim Yoo Suk) sees a plot everywhere. He persuades her that Dong Yi is not sincere in handing over the doll and offering not to reveal the nature of the Crown Prince’s problem. Later, Jang Hee-Jae sees Jang Moo-Yul (Choi Jong-Hwan) hand over the Royal Nurse to Chief Seo Yong-Gi (Jeong Jin-Yeon). After all, that’s what a loyal Minister is expected to do. This confirms Hee-Jae’s suspicion that Dong Yi is plotting to stab Lady Jang in the back. It does not occur to Hee-Jae that he has the timing the wrong way round and that, actually, it’s Jang Moo-Yul initiating the contact with Dong Yi yet to respond.
Jang Hee-Bin (Lee So-Yeon) and Jang Hee Jae (Kim Yoo Suk) plot their revenge
After bonding as brothers, the two Princes investigate the nature of the older one’s illness and crack the prescription. This creates an interesting dilemma for the Crown Prince Kyung-Jong (Yoon Chan). Whatever his faults, he’s sufficiently experienced in court matters to understand the significance of his inability to produce an heir. So then we’re back into melodrama with the two princes going walk-about in the marketplace and the Crown Prince being arrested as a pickpocket. This is resolved in the worst kind of deus ex way with Cha Jeon-Soo (Bae Su-Bin) magically materialising in just the right part of the rural outskirts to pluck the escaping Prince from the jaws of recapture.
Now we’re into the more interesting political bit with the nobles up in arms that the young Prince was trying to get the Crown Prince killed so that he could take over the reins of power. Jang Moo-Yul is particularly exercised by Dong Yi’s continuing failure to exploit her knowledge of the Crown Prince’s condition. He understands the nobles would drop the Crown Prince in a heartbeat if they knew he was impotent. He doesn’t understand she’s protecting both Princes. When he takes the initiative and mentions the fact of an illness to the factions supporting the Crown Prince, Dong Yi is back to blackmail him over his capture of the nurse. If he gets more explicit as to the nature of the illness, she will produce the nurse and tell the King he was covering up the problem. At last a little backbone from our heroine.
Assassins manage to wound Dong Yi (Han Hyo Joo) (again)
When the young Prince is arrested for exposing the Crown Prince to danger and Lady Jang gets the campaign for expulsion from the Palace up and running, our Crown Prince demonstrates a high sense of morality. He’s been in training under an independent tutoring system to become a good king and now he finds himself unsuitable. Worse he sees his mother acting as a criminal to protect his position and undermine the future line of succession. Unable to stand this position, he goes to his father and tells him everything. Meanwhile the Oh family has captured the thugs who tried to hang Oh Ho-Yang (Yeo Ho-Min), the nutty son. When the beating starts, these spineless ruffians blow the whistle on Lady Yoon (Choi Ran). Ah, a perfect storm is breaking. The King is now on the warpath and discovers Lady Jang has been covering up the Crown Prince’s problem for a year. The whole carefully constructed web of lies is about to be exposed. The factions of nobles previously loyal to Lady Jang back away. It looks as if all is lost, so now’s the time for a last desperate strike. If the Jangs are going to fall, they decide to kill Dong Yi and the young Prince. They can pass on knowing they finally killed their enemies.
For once the melodrama is short and to the point. A fire is set in the palace and, during the confusion as loyal citizens are encouraged to enter the grounds as volunteer firemen, a team of assassins enters. Cha Jeon-Soo is on the job as he sees the men wearing sound-deadening footwear and he’s able to intervene. But not before Dong Yi has taken a sword cut as she falls on her son to protect him. Drama must be maximised. Then he’s quickly surveying those trying to leave the palace for the same footwear. This time they scoop up all the surviving assassins before they can get away. Now there must be consequences.
For more general discussions of the social and political context for the serial, see:
Dong Yi — the politics
Dong Yi — superstition and magic
Dong Yi — the minor characters
Click here for the reviews of the narrative itself:
Dong Yi — the first 22 episodes;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 23 to 29;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 30 to 36;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 37 to 41;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 42 to 47;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 48 to 50;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 51 to 54;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 55 to 63;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 64 to 69;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 70 to the end.
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 55 to 63
This is a spoiler-rich discussion of what happens in these episodes so do not read this post if you want the experience of watching the serial unfold onscreen. Further, these episode numbers are based on the terrestrial broadcasts I have seen and not on downloaded or DVD episodes. It’s possible that these numbers do not match your experience.
When you are seen to have done something “wrong”, the best strategy is always to admit the error and accept the punishment. Choi Dong Yi (Han Hyo Joo) obviously has the best PR consultants working for her. The “arrest” while helping Ge Dwo Ra (Yeo Hyeon-Soo) is a political disaster of the first magnitude but, on her own insistence, she makes a full and frank disclosure to Jang Moo-Yul (Choi Jong-Hwan). This protects the King (Ji Jin Hee) who would otherwise try to use his power to sweep everything under the carpet. The Jangs, of course, see this as a wonderful opportunity to characterise Dong Yi as a traitor for aiding the Geom-Gye in general and Ge Dwo Ra in particular. Execution could not come quickly enough, but she’s saved by the secondary disaster of the death of the “heir”. Measles was a common disease and frequently fatal. This shifts the sympathy back to the King and Dong Yi. He’s therefore able to defend merely banning her from the palace. This has the effect of protecting the position of the Crown Price so, muttering darkly in their beards, the Jangs take what they can get. In a single night’s drunken visit to Dong Yi’s humble place of exile, the King proves himself a one-shot wonder and, nine months later, there’s a new potential heir. Six years pass in an instant.
Well, the casting is good enough. The young Prince, Lee Geum (Lee Hyung-Suk), is going to be pivotal. The history books tell us this boy becomes a benevolent King. So he has to be precocious yet endearing. As shown on the screen, he manages not to be a pain. For all he has a lawyer’s ability to redefine promises to suit his needs and a photographic memory, there’s an essential humility about him that keeps him likeable. The role of Ae-Jong (Kang Yu-Mi) is now reduced to running after the “heir”. Even Court Lady Bong (Kim So-Yi) is increasingly frazzled as the young Prince runs rings around her.
The Princes form a bond as "brothers"
Although the Prince’s attempt to enter the palace is overdone and the first actual meeting with the King contrived, it’s all saved from sentimentality by the naturalness of the King’s acceptance of the boy. The later day at the fair and the pool stays just on the right side, but even “incognito” has its limitations. No matter how much the King may try to deceive himself, the presence of the armed guards lurking in his wake is a bit of a give-away. As he stands looking down at Dong Yi’s home, he’s observed by Oh Ho-Yang (Yeo Ho-Min) whose obsession for Dong Yi grows ever more destructive. When Lady Yoon (Choi Ran) is informed, she sees the immediate threat to her daughter’s interests. If the King is planning to bring back the young Prince, the Crown Prince may be threatened. She sends her minions to kill Dong Yi and Lee Geum. Fortunately, troops arrive in time to put out the fire. This is the final straw for the King. Enough time has passed and the law permits the King to bring his son back into the palace for a royal education. The attempted murder quells potential resistance from the Jangs.
Choi Jong Hwan as Jang Mu Yeol grows increasingly threatening
When the King brings Dong Yi back into the palace, he also summons Cha Jeon-Soo (Bae Su-Bin) from exile to form an axis of benign power with Chief Seo Yong-Gi (Jeong Jin-Yeon). On his way back into the capital, Cha interrupts another plot from Lady Yoon. She’s increasingly alarmed that the blame for attempting to murder Dong Yi and the young Prince may fall back on her, so she instructs her minions to fake a suicide by Oh Ho-Yang. A note has been prepared in which he admits setting the fire after seeing the King’s visit. Fortunately, Cha arrives just as the minions hoist Oh Ho-Yang into the air for a hanging. He drives the minions away and cuts Oh Ho-Yang down, passing on as if nothing has happened. However, Oh Ho-Yang still has the “suicide” note.
Meanwhile, back at the palace, the royal succession issue is really hotting up. After an illness, Crown Prince Kyung-Jong (Yoon Chan) may not be able to produce an heir. He’s been treated in secret but, as the natural age for a marriage approaches, Queen Inhyeon (Park Ha Sun) is the force pushing for Lady Jang to explain her refusal to follow the usual court procedures. With her own health in danger, the Queen gets real evidence of the Crown Price’s condition from a nurse who’s then hidden away. Now battle is joined as Lee Geum comes into the palace. When his status as a prodigy is revealed by a plot from Lady Jang unexpectedly miscarrying, there’s a perfect storm in the offing. What makes this all the more interesting is Jang Moo-Yul’s reaction. He’s forced to the conclusion the Crown Prince has a health problem, so the race is on to find the nurse. At the final moment when the Queen has trapped the Jangs and captured their hired killers, she has a heart attack. Now Jang Hee Jae (Kim Yoo Suk) and his mother make the mistake of asking a shaman for guidance. The advice does not guarantee results, but the suggested course of action may give the Jangs a better chance of ensuring the Queen does not survive.
The Queen lapses into a coma after a heart attack
When Lee Geum exploits the literal wording of the promise he gave to his mother and shows the world he’s a top scholar, this creates a further threat to the status of the Crown Prince as the King proposes to make the two boys study partners. When the outcry shows strength, the need is to persuade Kim Goo-Sun (Maeng Sang-Hun) to take on Lee Geum. In due course, he’ll become the tutor to the prodigy. He’s not only one of the best read people in the country, but he also has a better grasp of the reality of the kingdom. One of the first lessons is make Lee Geum share acorns with the poor. When the prince reacts to the bitterness of the acorn, Kim Goo-Sun bids him never forget the taste of the tears of the people when starvation threatens. This counterbalances bookish learning with essential insights into practical politics. It’s not what you know that matters. It’s what you do with what you know that matters and, when the person you’re tutoring is a future king, he will have the power to do something about the poverty.
For more general discussions of the social and political context for the serial, see:
Dong Yi — the politics
Dong Yi — superstition and magic
Dong Yi — the minor characters
Click here for the reviews of the narrative itself:
Dong Yi — the first 22 episodes;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 23 to 29;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 30 to 36;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 37 to 41;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 42 to 47;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 48 to 50;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 51 to 54;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 55 to 63;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 64 to 69;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 70 to the end.
Dong Yi — superstition and magic
In another article, I happily assert that Dong Yi is not a serial about fate. It’s about the choices people make. This reflects my own prejudices. Since I do not believe in anything supernatural, all representations of religion or “magic” do nothing more than show the belief systems of the day. None of them can be real. Hence, in my view, the serial is always about the choices people make. But, of course, if the characters do believe in magic, their decisions are inevitably influenced by what they believe.
The role of superstition or magic in any culture can never be underestimated. In the Late Joseon period shown in Dong Yi, the moral and intellectual framework for their society comes from Confucianism and Taoism, i.e. from a more formalised religious base rooted in a relative degree of rationality. The more traditional culture, what we in the West would call pre-Enlightenment, is rooted in ignorance and a fear of the unknown. Superstition takes natural events that cannot be explained in scientific terms and gives them an unnatural explanation. Anything unusual is taken as evidence of supernatural beings and their influence over our world. This can be returning spirits and ghosts, or gods and demons. Standing in the centre of this cultural phenomenon is the shaman. He or she contests the battle between the rational science that appeals to the educated classes, and charlatanry that appeals to the gullible peasants and slaves. Even the nobility can find it difficult to throw off the old social practices, looking for a cause and effect in defending their financial and social status through a shaman’s intercession with gods and ancestors who might affect their fortunes. Such beliefs run in parallel with their equal acceptance of medical science, an increasing understanding of chemistry, astronomy, and so on. For them, there’s no need to choose between the old and new beliefs. You can pray to any god or ancestor that might help you while exploiting all the latest in knowledge and technology. Naturally the Confucian officials condemned shamans as practitioners of black magic with unclean rituals. This was not to deny the existence of spirits. But rather to say there were better ways of honouring ancestors.
The first major plot we see from within the palace shows Queen Myeongseong (Park Jeong-Su), the Queen Mother, exploiting the superstition of the masses to destabilise the position of Jang Hee-Bin (Lee So-Yeon). First comes the fall of the meteorite into the palace. The Ministers immediately claim this as an ill omen, arguing that King Sukjong (Ji Jin Hee) should not reinstate Court Lady Jang (Lee So-Yeon). It seems the fate of the nation turns on such events. It’s fascinating to watch the fear of the Ministers when they are each given tokens made out of the meteorite. The King, it seems is not only a rationalist, but also has a sense of humour. However, he stops laughing for the Omen of Dissonance. The nation’s music has lost its melody which, of course, foretells the fall of the nation — at least that was supposed to be why China fell into chaos. For King Sukjong, it seems if the meteorite doesn’t fall on your head, the music can assault your ears. The masses in the city are thrown into a panic. Fortunately there’s a rational explanation.The pitch of the chimes has been altered using rock salt. The fact the plot is illogical takes nothing away from the power of the idea. If the instruments were tuned wrongly, the musicians would play badly from the outset. Unfortunately, the dissonance in the main banquet is shown only as coming on dramatically after playing had begun.
Later in the serial, even Chief Seo Yong-Gi (Jeong Jin-Yeon) gets in on the superstition act with a reference to a “falling star” being a harbinger of doom — in his case, not fully realised, of course, just the coincidence of a minor wound. Then Dong Yi herself exploits the superstition there’s a “kingly” aura in the house where the newly married prince would go to live. This would lead the common people to expect the prince to become king, somehow usurping the Crown Prince. Fearing this might influence the succession, the young prince is therefore allowed to stay inside the palace.
More generally, the serial is framed by the predictions of two seers or soothsayers depending on your preferred jargon. They both claim to see into the future but are very different. In terms of magical systems, the first represents a form of neutral advisor. Although he’s interventionist, he’s less engaged in the real world. Yes, he talks with the rich and powerful, and takes their money, but he also offers help to the weak and unlucky. However, having offered help, he steps back. Those who have heard his words are free to decide how to react. This is an interesting view of what we might consider fate. He physically holds back Choi Dong Yi (Han Hyo Joo) when she might have given herself away as her father and brother are dragged past her under arrest but, thereafter, he turns away with a prediction of great things if she can survive. Later, by another coincidence, he’s on hand to pull Cha Jeon-Soo (Bae Su-Bin) out of the river. Whether by accident or design, he keeps the key players alive — good scriptwriting!
He offers the lieutenant for Chief Seo advice on who will win the wrestling match. Taking the powers as real, he achieves a godlike omniscience and detachment. He knows the unlucky lieutenant will reject the advice and go home to face the wrath of his wife. This does not prevent him from offering the advice and watching the choice made. Equally, it does not prevent him from making the right bet and profiting. We can say he’s moved by pity for those that cannot change their nature, but there are also signs he has hope for the future. Over time, nothing is ever completely certain. Many factors must interact to produce outcomes. There are always random elements that can change those outcomes. Sometimes, perhaps, individuals could surprise him by making different decisions.
So the pivotal movements come in the Jang household where he advises Oh Tae-Suk (Jeong Dong-Hwan) that the young Jang Hee-Bin whom the family proposes to place in the palace as a concubine, will rise to the top position. In a private session with the girl, the seer advises there will be a challenge from another girl who will burn as brightly. He warns that, if she does not want to be in the shadow, she must not fight the other girl. This is advice to a tiger to change its essential nature but, given Dong Yi’s nature, he’s right that they could share in the good outcome. The second seer is explicitly a shaman who represents the darker arts. She tells the future for Jang Hee-Jae (Kim Yu-Seok) and his mother, Lady Yoon (Choi Ran). They are more open to the notion of proactive black magic and participate in a ritual to curse the dying Queen Inhyeon (Park Ha Sun). Under the law of the time, this was considered an act of treason against the Crown. That they are prepared to run the risk is a sign of both their belief in the power of the ritual and their desperation.
Superstition is both an intellectual trap and an opportunity. It closes your mind to other belief systems that might provide more reliable insights and outcomes. Yet it also represents an opportunity for, if you understand how to exploit the power of the beliefs in the mass culture, you can bring down Kings — the notion of an ill-omen can infect a mob and incite chaos. That the magical systems ultimately fail in Dong Yi shows a new rationality in the ascendancy. Curiously, the battle is still being fought today as remnants of shamanism persist in modern Korea. In some parts of Korea, you will still find shamans performing a kut to exorcise adverse ancestral influences. Misin T’ap’a Undong remains a powerful ideology even in modern times.
For more general discussions of the social and political context for the serial, see:
Dong Yi — the politics
Dong Yi — superstition and magic
Dong Yi — the minor characters
Click here for the reviews of the narrative itself:
Dong Yi — the first 22 episodes;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 23 to 29;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 30 to 36;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 37 to 41;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 42 to 47;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 48 to 50;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 51 to 54;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 55 to 63;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 64 to 69;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 70 to the end.
Dong Yi — the minor characters
When a television serial like Dong Yi sprawls over 60 episodes, it necessarily spreads the net on characters. In this instance, the script rightly includes people from all levels of society, giving us a chance to see the major differences between the classes. This is borrowing from an old theatrical tradition. In A Midsummer Night’s Dream, we have the Rude Mechanicals — the unsophisticated but skilled manual laborers. More generally, we have the “everyman” characters in both drama and literature. These are the “ordinary” folk of the day. In the theatrical convention, there are two ideas at work. The first introduces characters we can all identify with more easily. Kings and queens are wonderful to behold but, only in our own dreams can we identify directly with them. Most audiences react better to characters when they can see themselves in similar situations. Since the audience for Shakespeare was predominantly the middle and upper classes, the dramatic focus tends to be on the nobility and more senior members of society. Which brings me to the second point.
On many occasions, the reason for including Rude Mechanicals was to provide comic relief. Many of these characters were played as clowns to give the Pit audience something to laugh at, even if it was themselves. However, even though dramatists did have fun at the expense of some of these “common” people, e.g. Dogberry and Verges in Much Ado About Nothing, it was often to make a more serious point about the inefficiency or incompetence of petty officials. Yes, such interlude scenes are designed to get a laugh, briefly breaking the tension before ratcheting the drama to ever higher levels thereafter. But they also represent a form of social commentary, charting the relationships between those with power and those in service. In Shakespeare’s time, everyone knew people like Dogberry, men of little learning who tried to puff themselves up to fill their roles as officials. Today, we can understand that, in a country where literacy levels and educational standards were low, basic administrative and law enforcement authority inevitably ended up in the hands of people who, by today’s standards, were stupid. We recognise it was not their fault they were ill-educated. Indeed, it often suited the ruling class to keep the lower classes in ignorance.
So coming to the representation of Late Joseon Korea in Dong Yi, it’s interesting to look at the more minor characters to work out what message they send to the audience. Let’s remember this as a country of immense poverty with the mass of people living as an underclass of slaves and rural peasants. Indeed, it’s because of the abuse of the slaves that Choi Hyo-Won (Cheon Ho-Jin), Dong Yi’s father, starts the Geom-Gye or Sword Society to act as an underground railway to rescue escaping slaves. Even in the capital city, there’s little opportunity for the average commoner to find anything other than basic manual employment in food production and distribution, building, etc. Essentially education is reserved to the children of the privileged and, even then, it’s only rote learning with little effort made to pass on real understanding. This does not prevent the autodidacts like Dong Yi’s father from passing on basic reading and other skills to their children, but this is a tiny minority. In the first episode we’re introduced the the minute discriminations between the lowborn and freeborn with inter-village rivalry captured in race-fixing to ensure the higher-status children win. Status through birth and the resulting pecking order are everything in this rigid society.
As to the more minor characters, let’s start with the Chief Eunuch (Jung Sun-Il). This is the ultimately loyal and supportive bridge between the King and the Court. In this instance, he’s a sensitive version of Jeeves who works tirelessly behind the scenes to ensure everything runs smoothly for his “gentleman”. As a eunuch, I hesitate to say he’s in love with the King, but he’s certainly more consistently in the King’s presence than the Queens and Consorts. The couple understand each other well enough so that the eunuch often knows what the King is thinking even before the King says it. The eunuch also facilitates the King’s incognito meetings outside the palace and always seems pleased, relieved and not at all jealous when the King glows happily in Dong Yi’s presence. Yet, if needed, he can forcefully step forward and berate those around him, e.g. when the King makes an unannounced appearance at a feeding station. In short, he’s highly intelligent and dependable.
It’s interesting to compare him with Court Lady Bong (Kim So-Yi) who crosses over from the Surveillance Bureau to become Dong Yi’s gatekeeper. The contrast with Court Lady Jung (Kim Hye-Sun) who later becomes the head of the Surveillance Bureau could not be greater. Lady Bong is wonderfully scatterbrained and not very bright. Worse, she’s even lacking basic skills like an ability to cook. Yet, for all her weaknesses, she’s remarkably loyal and works tirelessly to ensure Dong Yi’s life runs as smoothly as possible. It’s not clear quite who’s mothering whom. Dong Yi supports and protects Lady Bong, mostly laughing with her and not at her. Yet, when Dong Yi wants anything done, she has no compunction in pushing Lady Bong out of the way. If we assume Dong Yi is even moderately calculating, it would suit her to have someone like Lady Bong as her interface with the court. An unimpressive spokesperson encourages the less perceptive powerbrokers to underestimate Dong Yi herself.
Let’s now come to the Music Department. From the commoner side, we’ve Hwang Joo-Sik (Lee Hee-Do) and Young-Dal (Lee Kwang-Soo). They are a competent administrator and high-standard flautist trapped in a system of nepotism that appoints Oh Tae-Poong (Lee Kye-In) and his even less competent son, Oh Ho-Yang (Ho-min Yeo) as the directors. I feel for Young-Dal who desperately wants to be Dong Yi’s older brother, but he must finally confront the extent of his own incompetence when asked to rescue Crown Prince Kyung-Jong (Yoon Chan) from the police station where hes being held as a pickpocket. In the end, both worthy gentlemen are left struggling in the wake of Dong Yi and her trusted circle, begging Shim Woon-Taek (Kim Dong-Yoon) for crumbs of comfort that they still manage to make a contribution to the investigative work.
As to Oh Tae-Poong and Oh Ho-Yang, even the rest of the family consider them terminally incompetent yet, when it comes to finding scapegoats, this pair are first in line, being exiled in place of the obviously more guilty Oh Tae-Suk (Jeong Dong-Hwan) and the more senior conspirators. Indeed, when it comes to finding someone to frame for the failed arson attack on Dong Yi, the dim son is selected as a “suicide” with a note confessing his guilt handily prepared. Their role is to be victimized although they do become pivotal in finally pinning the blame on Jang Hee-bin’s mother (Choi Ran). It just goes to show that, if you wait long enough, the worm turns and bites the hand that was feeding it. I feel quite sorry for Lady Park (Lee Suk) who’s rather better than her husband Oh Tae-Poong and must not only put up with him, but also crawl to Jang Hee-bin’s mother to get advancement for her family. In the end, the family survives albeit in significantly reduced circumstances. That’s a better outcome than enjoyed by any other members of their original family and faction. Sometimes, the contemptible do find a quiet way to live.
In another article on politics, I argue this serial is about the shift from a status-based society to one that’s more of a meritocracy. Dong Yi herself is the message to her world that, if you have the right abilities, you can rise from the bottom and end up at the top. She becomes both the practical defender of the people in her original class and their inspiration. So neither Hwang Joo-Sik nor Young-Dal change position in the rankings. For all their social connections to the Dong Yi circle, they have reached the appropriate place in society for their abilities. By contrast Lady Park, Oh Tae-Poong and Oh Ho-Yang fall from their more elegant surroundings to a relatively small hut. Their trappings of wealth came from their social connections and not from their abilities. Hence, the “unfortunate” marriage for Oh Ho-Yang who finally gets to sleep with someone who looks like Dong Yi, albeit only from the back and in the dark.
For more general discussions of the social and political context for the serial, see:
Dong Yi — the politics
Dong Yi — superstition and magic
Dong Yi — the minor characters
Click here for the reviews of the narrative itself:
Dong Yi — the first 22 episodes;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 23 to 29;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 30 to 36;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 37 to 41;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 42 to 47;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 48 to 50;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 51 to 54;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 55 to 63;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 64 to 69;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 70 to the end.
Dong Yi — the politics
One of the more interesting questions about any modern drama is whether it can escape the limits of our own time and achieve some degree of universality. If we look back at Shakespeare, the people of his time no doubt thought him good. At the very least, they paid to see his work on the stage and read his poetry. But I seriously doubt anyone thought he would still be going strong almost four-hundred years after his death. That his work is still performed is remarkable for two reasons. First, the English is four-hundred years out of date, and a not insignificant amount of the vocabulary is no longer in direct use. Second, the format of blank verse makes the delivery of the words sound even less natural to our modern ears. Yet, despite the fact the language represents a barrier to understanding, the themes are as relevant today as they were yesterday. The plays speak to the realities of power and the frailties of human beings. Sadly, men and women have always been afflicted by excesses of pride, jealousy and cruelty. Fortunately, they have also been uplifted by charity, wisdom and love. That we have survived all these generations is testament to the fact that a balance has been struck between the virtues and the vices, with the former edging into the lead to the race to glory or perdition.
Ji Jin Hee usually showing the King as a man of great humanity
Dong Yi is a Korean sageuk serial, directed by Lee Byung-hoon and based on a script by Kim Yi Young. It’s a story set in the real-world Late Joseon court of King Sukjong (Ji Jin Hee). It’s not about destiny or fate although there’s a Macbeth-style witch to predict the future. It’s about choices and living with the consequences. The framework for the story is the political situation inside the court. It’s bedevilled by infighting between the Western and Southern factions, the latter later dividing into the Soron group which supports the claims of the Crown Price to succeed his father, and the Noron group which prefers the son of Choi Dong Yi (Han Hyo Joo) for the next king.
The main problems with power and wealth are not just in maximising their accumulation, but being able to keep what has been acquired and decide what’s to happen after death. Succession planning becomes a key focus because those who follow the current power-brokers must decide how they will align themselves when the next generation takes over. The fact that fathers may favour one group does not guarantee the sons or daughters will view that group with the same favour. In a way, Dong Yi is a variation on the themes of King Lear in which an ageing king decides to divide his kingdom between his three daughters. We all remember Goneril and Regan, but it’s the virtuous Cordelia who wins out in the end.
Han Hyo Joo as Dong Yi showing the clothing appropriate to different ranks
Dong Yi balances on a political cusp between an old order and a new order. At this point, the inertia of the past reinforces an essential conservatism. Those that have the power naturally want to preserve the status quo and their politics are right wing. These are the High Tory grandees and the stalwarts of the Republican party. The new order is founded on more abstract notions of social justice. In utilitarian terms, it assumes the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, that through the emancipation and empowerment of the lower classes in a society, the community as a whole will benefit. Making an economic point, if wealth is more evenly distributed, the poor have money to spend. They form a market and, if those with capital build businesses that sell goods and services to the poor, the quality of life for all may improve. This is not to say that either old or new order is more rational. But the issue is whether the combination of rationality with a more altruistic use of power produces a better, more enlightened society. If it does, then the new order will prevail.
The problem with King Sukjong is that he lacks the motivation to live up to his Confucian ideals. Like Lear, he’s delegated the running of the kingdom to successive political factions within the palace and “trusts” them to run the country properly. So, in the debate about means and ends, the realpolitik of this historical period sees a well-intentioned king forced to confront the corruption inherent in the old order. For the nobility, the end is the accumulation of personal power, no matter what the cost. By contrast, Choi Dong Yi accumulates power almost inadvertently and only uses what she has for the benefit of others. The relationship between the King and Choi Dong Yi therefore takes the first step in the direction of a renaissance. This is selfless individualism with the power to confront the entrenched interests, thereby promoting the notions of class mobility and a meritocracy. Going back to the issue of succession, this is moving from what we might call a noble line based on blood, to a noble line based on ability and virtue. It’s therefore a threat to the status quo, not to say revolutionary.
Lee So-Yeon as Lady Jang Hee-bin showing the high-ranking hairstyle
In terms of statecraft, the new order reflects a more profound application of Confucianism, demonstrating that being righteous and honest in the service of humanity creates a new political reality. Given the nature of Korean society as an autocracy, Confucius teaches that a ruler will lose Heaven’s Mandate if he acts without proper respect for humanity. This produces a framework of benevolence in support of the people. Mencius also hints at some degree of democratisation in that a ruler should listen to the will of the people on important matters affecting their interests.
Coming to the Jang family as the primary representatives of the old order, we have Lady Jang (Lee So-Yeon) who starts off in an indeterminate state. She is filial and has been involved in the inevitable manoeuvring to acquire power. But, as the family gains status through the murder of competitor nobles, she becomes less directly involved and, in the end, rises above the infighting. She has intelligence and this could have empowered her as a force for good in King Sukjong’s court. Yet she is trapped by her relationships and loyalties. Her decision is to sacrifice her emerging virtue to protect her brother, Jang Hee-Bin (Kim Yoo Suk). This is fateful, based on selfish emotion without concern for the broader social consequences.
Choi Jong-Hwan as Jang Moo-Yul dressing down to pass unnoticed outside the palace
Jang Hee-Bin and Lady Yoon (Choi Ran), his mother, lack Lady Jang’s intelligence. They move at a more instinctive level, driven by the short-term desire to hold what they have despite the consequences, whether positive or negative. The most interesting counterpoint to Choi Dong Yi is Jang Moo-Yul (Choi Jong-Hwan). He represents the most rational mind in the old order. It’s interesting to watch him offer his services to Choi Dong Yi. This is pure pragmatism to join the new order while it ascends. If it then stabilises and holds power, he will be in prime position. If it should appear weak, he can bring it down from within. When she rejects him, he dismisses her as naive because he does not understand how fundamentally Choi Dong Yi’s philosophy will infect those around her. He’s blinded by his own faction’s orthodoxy, assuming the predatory ways of the court cannot change. As a result, he misses the straws in the wind like Matron Yoo (Lim Seong-Min). These people accept a second chance, develop a conscience, or trust each other as honest without looking for hidden motives. He loses when he selfishly overreaches to protect his own interests.
Although allegories are, by their nature, simplistic, Dong Yi is not simple fodder for television audiences. For those who want to look beyond the melodrama and romance, there’s a robust debate on the nature of power, who should have the right to wield it, and for what purposes. There are also fascinating uses of everyman figures. These are the fools and less able who nevertheless find their positions in the new order. To all their just deserts as we watch the more universal moral messages play out. Dong Yi is probably not going to be remembered in hundreds of years as a work of Shakespearean quality, but it’s a brave attempt to say something interesting about the kind of society we should all like to live in.
For more general discussions of the social and political context for the serial, see:
Dong Yi — the politics
Dong Yi — superstition and magic
Dong Yi — the minor characters
Click here for the reviews of the narrative itself:
Dong Yi — the first 22 episodes;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 23 to 29;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 30 to 36;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 37 to 41;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 42 to 47;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 48 to 50;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 51 to 54;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 55 to 63;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 64 to 69;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 70 to the end.
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 51 to 54
This is a spoiler-rich discussion of what happens in these episodes so do not read this post if you want the experience of watching the serial unfold onscreen. Further, these episode numbers are based on the terrestrial broadcasts I have seen and not on downloaded or DVD episodes. It’s possible that these numbers do not match your experience.
At last, the restored Queen Inhyeon (Park Ha Sun) has decided to stop acting like wallpaper and to be more proactive, appointing Choi Dong Yi (Han Hyo Joo) to take control of the Surveillance Bureau. When Dong Yi forgives the Surveillance Bureau ladies does this confirm that her servant was returned unharmed? You will remember the villains spirited her away when searching Dong Yi’s apartment. Shame there’s been no mention of it. It will be interesting to see how the three react to their reprieve. Matron Yoo (Lim Seong-Min) was clearly enjoying herself under Queen Jang’s protection. It seems unlikely this brush with death will reform her. The two more naive girls, Si-Bi (Oh Eun-Ho) and Eun-Geum (Han Da-Min) may prove more open to the idea of a second chance. In historical context, I suspect clemency in this court will be interpreted as weakness. If people believe they will not face death for their crimes, the deterrent value of capital punishment has been lost — assuming “criminals” ever believe they are going to be caught, of course.
Dong Yi (Han Hyo Joo), Cha Jeon-Soo (Bae Su-Bin) and Ge Dwo Ra (Yeo Hyeon-Soo) — three childhood friends reunited
In the best New York style, the deposed Queen Jang (Lee So-Yeon) gets to do the perp walk as she’s thrown out of her “housing unit” with all the servants and lesser ladies getting to enjoy her humiliation. Yet all this does us move a major enemy from one royal residence to another inside the palace.
The King (Ji Jin Hee) has a pregnancy dream and discovers Dong Yi has a craving for porridge. During their incognito visit to a government site supposedly dedicated to feeding the poor, they discover willful abuse of authority and probable skimming of stores. The King is now in his element, dispensing immediate justice and banishing all those responsible to distant border postings. It’s good to see him more involved in the day-to-day running of the kingdom rather than merely depending on the reports of his officials.
Jang Hee-Jae (Kim Yu-Seok) is exiled. He’s not a happy bunny but, after sacrificing his wealth, he brings himself back into contention when the heat has died down. In the intervening period, our happy couple celebrate the birth of a son, and we have a new villain to enjoy. It’s the return to the capital of Jang Moo-Yul (Choi Jong-Hwan) who’s been working his way up the system, playing the part of an honest administrator. Even the King is pleased to see him and puts him in charge of the investigation into the outbreak of killings. Yes, the Geom-Gye or Sword Society has been resurrected and is once again the scourge of the nobility. Not surprisingly, Dong Yi, Cha Jeon-Soo (Bae Su-Bin) and Chief Seo Yong-Gi (Jeong Jin-Yeon) are greatly upset by this development. So Dong Yi talks the Queen into allowing her out of the palace and now she and Shim Woon Taek (Kim Dong-Yoon) are investigating the hand signs she remembers seeing as a child. They identify it as the Chinese way of counting but, at first, there’s no clue how numbers might be translated into language. Meanwhile, Jang Moo-Yul exploits his knowledge that Deputy Prime Minister Oh Tae-Suk (Jeong Dong-Hwan) ordered the death of his father under the cover of the Sword Society campaign. Now we see the deposed Queen Jang reasserting her position with the South faction using Jang Moo-Yul as her stalking horse.
Dong Yi discusses old times with the Sword Society
As an aside, I wonder about the use of language in this series. When I was growing up, I was bilingual in “English” and Geordie, the local dialect. This was essential to be able to fit into different social situations. So I assume Dong Yi is the same. Born and brought up as a commoner, she would have a pronounced accent and some dialect usages that would clearly mark her speech as low-born. Moving into the palace, she would then learn the different class-based vocabulary and syntax. I ask this because, if armed Geordie terrorists burst into my home and were about to kill me, the moment I opened my mouth they would know me as one of their own and not a southern toff. More importantly, if all but Ge Dwo Ra (Yeo Hyeon-Soo) are new recruits, how do the rank and file killers know about Dong Yi and membership of the old society? As an aside, Ge Dwo Ra gets to wear a unique hat that allows you to track him as he runs through the countryside or moves through a crowded city street. Great thinking by the leader of a secret organisation.
I’m also increasingly confused about geography. While we were mainly based inside the palace or in distant parts of the countryside, it didn’t matter if we had no idea of the scale of movement between different buildings or parts of town. But we now have Lady Jang and Dong Yi out visiting different houses and I have no idea how easy it is to get from one place to another or, even, which are within or outside the city walls.
Jeong Dong-Hwan as Oh Tae-suk is finally expendable
This all boils up to a great climax as the two sides jockey for position. Once Dong Yi cracks the code and identifies Oh Tae-Suk as behind the killings, they spook the veteran politician into giving himself away. Dong Yi also confronts Lady Jang and they both now recognise each other from the murderous events all those years ago. It’s now a race. The Jangs need to kill Oh Tae-Suk and frame the Sword Society. Chief Seo and Cho need to collect all the evidence and arrest Oh Tae-Suk. In the end, Ge Dwo Ra is seriously wounded when Oh Tae-Suk and his entourage are killed. He escapes to Sul-Hee (Kim Hye-Jin). Dong Yi rushes to his side. This is the Jang’s chance and, with the King incognito and encouraged to follow the investigation, he’s there when Dong Yi is “arrested” for aiding a murderer.
For more general discussions of the social and political context for the serial, see:
Dong Yi — the politics
Dong Yi — superstition and magic
Dong Yi — the minor characters
Click here for the reviews of the narrative itself:
Dong Yi — the first 22 episodes;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 23 to 29;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 30 to 36;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 37 to 41;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 42 to 47;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 48 to 50;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 51 to 54;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 55 to 63;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 64 to 69;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 70 to the end.
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 48 to 50
This is a spoiler-rich discussion of what happens in these episodes so do not read this post if you want the experience of watching the serial unfold onscreen. Further, these episode numbers are based on the terrestrial broadcasts I have seen and not on downloaded or DVD episodes. It’s possible that these numbers do not match your experience.
So now we come to the real test of strength over the border logs. The Chinese delegation is blackmailing the Jangs and upping the ante with the King (Ji Jin Hee). Choi Dong Yi (Han Hyo Joo) sits in the middle with the real logs. If the Chinese gained access, they could confirm their suspicions that the King has been secretly rearming and rebuilding military strength both in physical fortifications and the disposition of troops. Because of the Chinese blackmail, Queen Jang (Lee So-Yeon) and Jang Hee-Jae (Kim Yoo Suk) are all fired up to steal the logs back from Dong Yi. They assume she has hidden them well so they cover all the bases, arranging to search every possible hiding place. As with many of their plans, this involves the death of many minions.
Kim Yoo Suk as Jang Hee-Jae being properly villainous
This raises an important issue about the way the plot is constructed. We can accept life was cheap in Korea in the seventeenth century, but I would prefer to see some consequences to criminal activity. For example, let’s go back to an earlier episode when the Treasury official and his family were killed by assassins as they helped Dong Yi escape. His long-time friend, Seo Yong-Gi (Jeong Jin-Yeon), was not seen to investigate. Indeed, only the burning of the Treasury was featured in later episodes. None of the associated deaths were mentioned again. I accept the plot cannot spread too wide. This would distract from the primary focus of the show. But since Dong Yi comes to prominence because she’s an effective investigator, there should be more on how the policing system works. Given the arson at the Treasury buildings, the deaths of so many other people must have been noticed and could have informed the King of the wider conspiracy. When making choices about what to include in the plot, we could do without all the subplots involving the Music Director’s family. In particular, the rivalry between Lady Yoon (Choi Ran) mother of Lady Jang and Jang Hee-Jae, and Lady Park (Lee Suk) is little better than comic relief.
Anyway, the plan involving the border logs is ingenious on both sides. The Jangs will attract all eyes to the banquet given to placate the Chinese delegation while their agents search everywhere. By appearing to threaten Dong Yi, they believe Chief Seo will move his troops to protect her. Later, if there’s any fall-out with the Chinese, the South faction can offer the Chinese money to finance their campaign against Mongolia and produce “peace in our time”. The treason will be converted into victory. So we see Dong Yi and her “merry men” playing the fool and leaving the logs to be found. I’m unhappy with this plot device of suddenly changing the point of view. Showing us the “good guys” acting dumb and falling into the trap, followed by an extended reveal showing how this acting trapped all the conspirators is unfair. That said, bringing back the combination of ginger and vinegar from the investigation that saved Lady Jang earlier in the series is a really nice “touch”. It shows the scriptwriting team prepared to exploit irony. So this incriminates the faction in the Surveillance Bureau that carried out the search of Dong Yi’s residence and shows Queen Jang touched the logs.
Han Hyo Joo as Dong Yi finally feeling comfortable in her consort robes
It’s always a problem when the King may still have feelings for his Queen. If you are going to accuse her of crimes, there must be very good proof. What makes this all the more interesting is to see a slight shift in focus from Chief Seo to Shim Woon Taek (Kim Dong-Yoon). Trusted by the King to protect Dong Yi, he’s adding to the general brain power while prepared to put himself in physical danger. Better still, he’s not prepared to respect anyone on the basis of their status. He deals with people as he finds them which is refreshing and explains why he gets on with Dong Yi. However, he was exiled because he was a vocal supporter of Queen Inhyeon (Park Ha Sun) and there’s increasing triumphalism in his behaviour which rather takes the edge of his “nice guy” image.
Not unnaturally, as the evidence emerges, the South faction abandon the Queen and persuade all those already arrested to blame the Queen for ordering them to commit all relevant crimes. They reason the Queen will be untouchable as the mother of the heir so, although her family will be disgraced and a few will be executed, she will be safe without them having to put themselves at risk in trying to defend her. When the Queen goes to the King and confesses her leadership role, this is a moment of sadness. Although the King feels betrayed, there’s a sense of mutual failure. The Queen failed to trust to King to hold her safe and, when Jang Hee-Jae became more aggressive, she resorted to lies. He trusted his Queen and failed to see through the lies.
Kim Dong-Yoon as Shim Woon Taek working his way into power
The show then polarises the debate about the nature of power. Lady Jang believes in realpolitik. Perhaps, in an ideal world, society would be a meritocracy with the best rising to positions of power. But, in this Joseon court, those seeking power use every means at their disposal to get it. Once they have it, they use every possible means to hold on to it. There’s no place for ethics or morality in this world. On the other side of the fence, Dong Yi feels terrible guilt that she’s responsible for exposing all this corruption and criminality. No matter she was only defending herself, she finds this aspect of power deeply troubling. She’s the voice of altruism and virtue. To her, power is not something desirable in itself and, once you have access to it, you should only use it when the results will be morally acceptable.
Well, after much soul-searching, the King decides to use his power to clean house. There has always been corruption at the heart of government so, starting with the lower officials, the King orders a purge of most of those in the South faction. Queen Jang is demoted. Queen Inhyeon is restored. The wheel has turned and virtue is rewarded.
For more general discussions of the social and political context for the serial, see:
Dong Yi — the politics
Dong Yi — superstition and magic
Dong Yi — the minor characters
Click here for the reviews of the narrative itself:
Dong Yi — the first 22 episodes;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 23 to 29;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 30 to 36;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 37 to 41;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 42 to 47;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 48 to 50;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 51 to 54;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 55 to 63;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 64 to 69;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 70 to the end.
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 42 to 47
This is a spoiler-rich discussion of what happens in these episodes so do not read this post if you want the experience of watching the serial unfold onscreen. Further, these episode numbers are based on the terrestrial broadcasts I have seen and not on downloaded or DVD episodes. It’s possible that these numbers do not match your experience.
The question of who will dare join the support staff for Choi Dong Yi (Han Hyo Joo) is a nice plot idea. The issue is simple. Dong Yi has come from nowhere so she represents a terrific opportunity for established court ladies to arrive at the top of the social heap with one jump. But if Dong Yi fails, anyone who joined her will be cast into the outer darkness. Only the most willing volunteers can be accepted, and it’s not even convenient to accept all of those who do step forward. Fortunately, the King has finally managed to get past the first kiss and Dong Yi is moderately safe in her new role. This encourages some to be brave enough.
Dong Yi (Han Hyo Joo) and the King (Ji Jin Hee) finally have their moment
The issue of the border defence logs finally resurfaces. This was threatening to be really bad continuity. As it is, it’s only bad continuity. Dong Yi should have immediately handed over the logs, rescued Shim Woon Taek (Kim Dong-Yoon) from exile and introduced Sul-Hee (Kim Hye-Jin) as a back-up witness so that Jang Hee-Jae (Kim Yoo Suk) could be brought down. But we cannot have our enemies killed off too early with so many episodes left to fill. We have to see Jang Hee-Jae humiliated as the maitre d’ of palace functions. After all, as a man notorious for his patience, there’s no-one better to field complaints about the food and poor service.
Although I understand that the King (Ji Jin Hee) wants to keep the common touch going and he does recognise that Dong Yi feels more comfortable outside, he’s getting more testy when the drunken Young-Dal (Lee Kwang-Su) drools over Dong Yi. Let’s hope the warning shot finally penetrates the thick head of the comic relief musician and we don’t have to watch the King get murderously jealous and petty. It rather spoils his image as an easy-going kinda royal guy.
The plot to make everything think Dong Yi is out to kill the Crown Price is moderately ingenious. Except what illness could possible only affect people of one particular class? The answer, of course, is no illness and, with much application of brain power, she deduces the answer (which, incidentally, is the second murder method in Agatha Christie’s Death Comes At the End and in several other mysteries). Now it’s down to collecting proof and Court Lady Jung (Kim Hye-Sun) gathers the loyal members of the Surveillance Bureau to track down the villains. However, with timing everything to prevent suspicion falling on Queen Jang (Lee So-Yeon)’s mother, everything is swept back under the carpet and the more ingenious plot can move forward.
Kim Hye-Sun as Court Lady Jung checks on one of the ladies who have fallen ill
If you can’t easily catch someone in a murderous plot, you have to attack their reputation. The move by Queen Jang to promote Dong Yi catches everyone by surprise. But the promotion depends on Dong Yi disclosing her parentage. Since her father was a convicted murderer, this is inconvenient. Fortunately, Cha Jeon-Soo (Bae Su-Bin) and Sul-Hee have manufactured evidence to conceal Dong Yi’s identity. They set off to collect it while the King secretly orders Chief of Police, Seo Yong-Gi (Jeong Jin-Yeon) to investigate her background. Unfortunately, when the King recounts recovering Dong Yi from the cliff top where she claimed her parents perished, this rings alarm bells. When Seo pulls all the old records out of storage, he’s convinced of Dong Yi’s parentage and, when he confronts her, she admits it.
Cheon Ho-Jin plays Choi Hyo-Won, Dong Yi's father as a noble commoner
To recap the earlier history, Seo was a junior officer from a good family and very friendly with Dong Yi’s father, Choi Hyo-Won (Cheon Ho-Jin) who was the leader of the Geom-Gye or Sword Society which ran an underground railway to help escaped slaves. At the time, there was a series of murders with key figures in the nobility being killed. Despite his own father being killed, Seo is left in charge of the investigation. He hears evidence framing Choi Hyo-Won. When arrested, his friend admits it. As a result, the King orders all the family and clan members killed. During the massacre, it was Seo who let the young Dong Yi go.
When Cha Jeon-Soo returns with the false evidence, Seo threatens to arrest him, but Cha Jeon-Soo explains why the confession was made. At the time, Seo did not have the political support to investigate the families actually responsible for the murders. Indeed, being seen to doubt the evidence framing Choi Hyo-Won could have exposed him to great danger. So, to protect him, his friend confessed. Now Seo has the chance to set matter right and gives the King the false evidence, explaining away Dong Yi’s connection to the Geom-Gye. This leaves him determined to get to the bottom of what happened. Now he does have the status and royal protection to identify those actually responsible for the deaths, including that of his father. More importantly, it focuses the King’s attention on Dong Yi’s birth as a commoner. Whereas, before, the King might deceive himself into believing that he was protecting the interests of all citizens equally, now he has Dong Yi as a positive reminder to be more active in defending the “ordinary” people against predatory nobles.
Kim Dong-Yoon as Shim Woon Taek ambushes Kim Yoo Suk as Jang Hee-Bin
This just leaves us with the border logs. With Shim Woon Taek rescued and joining the Dong Yi family, he brings a sharp mind to bear on her situation. Local society looks on with interest as a major Chinese delegation comes to town. It brings news that the “boy” is accepted as heir. Without hesitation, Shim goes to confront Jang Hee-Bin. This comes at the wrong moment because the Chinese envoy has just told Jang Hee-Jae that the logs were fake. He gives three days for Jang Hee-Jae to come up with the right logs or the acceptance of legitimacy for the heir will be withdrawn and the King will be told of Jan Hee-Jae’s treason. Based on the conversation and on what he discovers when he visits the Chinese envoy, Shim works out the situation. The problem is how to exploit it to bring down the Jang family.
For more general discussions of the social and political context for the serial, see:
Dong Yi — the politics
Dong Yi — superstition and magic
Dong Yi — the minor characters
Click here for the reviews of the narrative itself:
Dong Yi — the first 22 episodes;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 23 to 29;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 30 to 36;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 37 to 41;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 42 to 47;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 48 to 50;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 51 to 54;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 55 to 63;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 64 to 69;
Dong Yi — a review of episodes 70 to the end.
