In this blog post, I’d like to explore the various facets of the lonely Yi Sun-sin through Kim Hoon’s novel ‘The Song of the Sword’ and reflect on the message the work conveys.
As autumn deepens and the leaves begin to fall, many people feel a particularly acute sense of solitude and loneliness. Interestingly, ‘The Song of the Sword’, which I read, is also a work that portrays the solitary Yi Sun-sin. Since Yi Sun-sin is not a character who has parted ways with a lover or is experiencing personal loneliness, some may wonder why the word “solitude” seems to fit him so well. However, throughout the immense ordeal of the Imjin War, Yi Sun-sin’s heart was filled with a profound solitude and anguish that few could easily comprehend. In this essay, I intend to explore various perspectives for appreciating ‘The Song of the Sword’. First, I will examine the different facets of Yi Sun-sin in the work by categorizing them, and then, by comparing it with other works, I will consider why this particular work portrays him in this manner.
In this work, Yi Sun-sin is portrayed in a wide variety of ways. Alongside the Yi Sun-sin we are familiar with as a general, we also see him as a father, as a man, and as a superior officer. The image of Yi Sun-sin as a general is likely the one most familiar to readers. Many people likely encountered him naturally as children while reading biographies of historical figures at bookstores or libraries with their parents, or through repeated readings of multi-volume biographical series.
When recalling such typical biographies, the narrative usually centers on General Yi Sun-sin’s great achievements. In particular, they often introduce his outstanding victories at the Battle of Hansando, the Battle of Myeongnyang, and the Battle of Noryang, and conclude with his famous last words: “Do not let the enemy know of my death.” It is no exaggeration to say that this is the typical story of Yi Sun-sin with which we are all familiar. However, ‘The Song of the Sword’ is a work that boldly breaks this mold.
In ‘The Song of the Sword’, Yi Sun-sin appears not as the heroic general but as a human being with far more nuanced emotions. He constantly wrestles with his thoughts, examining his inner self as if in a soliloquy. This characteristic is particularly evident in his perspective on other characters. While Yi Sun-sin expresses his thoughts in great detail as he observes those around him, his gaze is not always favorable.
His assessment of King Seonjo, in particular, is extremely harsh. This is because King Seonjo consistently kept Lee Sun-sin in check. In particular, the order to serve in civilian clothes seems excessively harsh. Although the king later reinstated him, issued an edict, and took various measures, he ultimately never showed complete trust. This political tension is strongly evident throughout the work.
Furthermore, there are quite a few characters portrayed negatively through Lee Sun-sin’s perspective. Notable examples include Won Gyun and various other figures in the royal court. It’s easy to assume that a hero, as we commonly imagine one, would be generous and tolerant toward everyone. However, the Yi Sun-sin portrayed in this work is not a perfect hero but a human being with emotions. It is, in fact, quite natural for him to harbor negative feelings toward those who harm him or endanger the nation.
So, what kind of father was Yi Sun-sin? Unfortunately, he led a life that made it difficult for him to be a good father. Due to his position as a general, he had to travel back and forth between Nokdundo in the north and the Jeolla Left Naval Base in the south, leaving him little time to spend with his family. Ultimately, his son, Yi Myeon, lost his life to Japanese forces during the Imjin War.
We often assume that Yi Sun-sin would have carried out his battles without showing any emotion, even in the face of such tragedy. However, the Yi Sun-sin portrayed in ‘The Song of the Sword’ is nothing like that. He expresses his grief over losing his son in various ways. Although he tries to suppress his emotions in front of his subordinates, he ultimately cannot hold back his tears, and he suffers deep anguish as his son, Yi Myeon, continues to appear in his dreams.
During this time, Abe Jun’ichi, a Japanese samurai who had participated in the battle in the Asan region, is taken prisoner. Lee Sun-shin experiences intense inner conflict as he looks at him. From a father’s perspective, Abe Jun’ichi is the enemy who killed his son, so it is only right to execute him. Perhaps he even wanted to exact revenge in the most agonizing way possible. Yet, at the same time, he sees the image of his son, Lee Myeon, superimposed on Abe Jun’ichi. The fact that Abe Jun’ichi is a young samurai of a similar age likely amplified those feelings even further.
In the end, he carries out the execution himself, but even during the process, he cannot hide his grief. This is a scene where his pain as a human being shines through more clearly than his composure as a general. While Yi Sun-sin is often portrayed as somewhat cold and prickly throughout the work, in this scene, one can fully sense his human warmth and compassion.
Third, let’s examine Yi Sun-sin as a man. The only woman in the work who has a direct relationship with Yi Sun-sin is Yeo-jin. Yeo-jin appears as a slave and is depicted in a pitiful state, unable to wash or groom herself properly amid the chaos of war. While such scenes may make readers uncomfortable, they also illustrate just how devastating the Imjin War was to people’s lives.
Yeo-jin and Yi Sun-sin also share a physical relationship. Later, Yi Sun-sin reunites with Yeo-jin after she is captured by Japanese forces and returns; during this encounter, Yeo-jin even asks him to kill her. However, Yi Sun-sin does not behead her. This scene reveals both his heartache as a man and his human compassion.
There are various interpretations of Yi Sun-sin’s masculinity regarding this passage. Personally, I sensed a childlike sense of dependence rather than masculine desire. In the novel, Yi Sun-sin is a character who does not easily rely on anyone. Yet, in the moments he spends with Yeo-jin, he feels a brief sense of comfort. Therefore, in this scene, what struck me most was his human side—his search for comfort that felt closer to maternal love than to a romantic relationship between a man and a woman.
Finally, looking at Yi Sun-sin as a superior officer, he is a very strict and formidable commander. He punishes subordinates who commit mistakes without mercy, and if a general hesitates in battle, he will even brandish his sword himself to order a charge. The cases of An Wi and Kim Eung-ham are prime examples. Although they were initially unable to attack aggressively, they eventually charged forward after Yi Sun-sin’s strong encouragement and achieved great results.
While this thoroughness may sometimes appear ruthless, it ultimately became the driving force behind Yi Sun-sin’s numerous victories. This was because his meticulous preparation and his resolve—embodied in the motto “If you fight to the death, you will live; if you live to fight, you will die”—had a profound impact on his soldiers.
However, the phrase “If you fight to the death, you live; if you live to fight, you die” is portrayed in the work somewhat differently from the absolute confidence we typically associate with it. As battle drew near, Yi Sun-sin honestly felt fear of death. He often expressed his emotions by likening them to his sword, which is depicted in the work as a constantly trembling and anxious presence. While he appeared not to fear death when submitting his battle reports, in reality, he likely feared it more than anyone else. This is because he knew better than anyone that if he were to fall in battle, the Joseon Navy would collapse, and ultimately, the entire nation would be placed in danger.
Furthermore, even regarding the Ming general Jin Lin, he prioritizes the nation as a whole over his personal feelings. Rather than acting for his own honor, he considers post-war diplomacy and the nation’s future, demonstrating a general’s sense of responsibility that places the nation first until the very end.
Let’s now compare this work with other works about Yi Sun-sin. Kim Tak-hwan’s ‘Immortality’ is particularly well-suited for such a comparison. The two works differ significantly in everything from the prominence of their characters to the way the story unfolds. While ‘The Song of the Sword’ focuses on Yi Sun-sin’s inner thoughts and emotions, ‘Immortality’ takes a broader look at the course of the war and the political situation.
Several literary critiques suggest that ‘The Song of the Sword’ metaphorically captures the economic hardships and the prevailing mood of South Korean society at the time of its publication. In contrast, ‘Immortality’ can be seen as a work that centers on Yi Sun-sin’s battles and victories, emphasizing hope and achievement in overcoming adversity.
Thus, the two works convey different messages to readers. In particular, I believe ‘The Song of the Sword’ remains well worth reading today, as it offers the most profound portrayal of Yi Sun-sin not as a war hero, but as a solitary human being.
Among the words left behind by Admiral Yi Sun-sin are many famous quotes that are still quoted today. While we remember these pearls of wisdom, we do not easily recall the countless struggles and sufferings he endured before they were spoken. We cannot know exactly what emotions he felt that have since faded into history. Of course, a novel is ultimately a work based on literary imagination, but it holds significant value as an attempt to understand the emotions of a human being. Rather than remembering Yi Sun-sin solely as a hero, if we also remember him as a human being who lived with the same loneliness and fear that we do, I believe ‘The Song of the Sword’ will be a work that moves us even more deeply.
