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# Chapter 2. Incense Burner (香爐), The Path Ahead (向路)
A few days later, Arita, Kyushu, Japan.
Lee Jeongsik and I arrived in Arita, where the festival was being held.
A huge banner bearing the festival's name, Arita Tokiichi (有田陶器市), hung at the entrance to the village. Enka, a traditional Japanese genre of sentimental popular music, drifted from speakers installed along the streets.
Ceramics festivals were held throughout Japan, in places such as Nagoya and Osaka. Among them, however, the Arita Tokiichi in Kyushu was the largest ceramics festival in the country.
Since Arita was the birthplace of Japanese porcelain, it was only natural that the festival would be held on such a grand scale.
This region also had deep ties to Korea. It was where a Joseon potter named Yi Sam-pyeong had once lived.
Who was he, you ask?
He had originally been a potter in Joseon. During the Imjin War, he was taken to Japan by a Japanese military commander and eventually became a legendary figure, regarded as the founder of Japanese porcelain.
Arita had once been nothing more than a barren mountainside. However, after Yi Sam-pyeong and approximately 150 other potters captured from Joseon settled there and began making ceramics, it gradually developed into a proper village.
Even today, descendants of those potters still lived in Arita.
The Arita Tokiichi was a festival that transformed the entire village into an exhibition space. Unlike ceramic festivals in Korea, this one was packed with tourists from all over the world.
Lee Jeongsik exclaimed excitedly.
"There are so many pretty women and gorgeous ceramics!"
"You think any pretty woman would actually go out with you?"
"I'm happy just looking at them, you punk! What's wrong with that? You have to enjoy the vibe of being in a foreign country."
"Don't give me that nonsense about vibes."
Lee Jeongsik was walking through the enormous crowd, visibly excited, while my spirits remained somewhat low.
Just then, Lee Jeongsik exclaimed again.
"Oh! Now that's amazing!"
"……The colors really are incredible."
I couldn't help agreeing with him and nodding.
He wasn't talking about the slender woman walking ahead of us. He was referring to the jade-colored ceramics displayed in the shops lining both sides of the street.
"The glaze work is outstanding. The colors look natural, and the gloss complements them perfectly."
"For once, I agree with you."
Our gazes were fixed more firmly on the ceramics displayed along the street than on the tourists around us. As expected of two people who had graduated with degrees in ceramics, we were more captivated by beautiful pottery than by pretty women.
Lee Jeongsik looked at me with a sly grin.
"Just as I thought."
"Just as you thought what?"
"You still haven't let go of your attachment to becoming a ceramic artist. Am I right?"
"What the hell are you talking about?"
Lee Jeongsik clicked his tongue and said, "Tsk..."
"……I'm definitely right."
"If I say I'm not interested, why do you insist you're right?"
"Because all the circumstances and your feelings point to it."
"They don't."
A brief argument broke out between us over whether I still harbored lingering feelings about ceramics.
I wasn't sure why this had to become an argument in the first place, but...
Regardless, we continued walking.
The village of Arita was lined with potters' workshops packed closely together on both sides of its streets. Some displayed their work indoors, while others brought their products right out onto the streets for everyone to see.
That was one of the reasons the Arita Tokiichi ceramics festival was so vibrant.
At this festival, visitors could find all kinds of ceramics, ranging from everyday tableware and pottery sold as works of art to decorative items such as cellphone accessories.
As a result, Lee Jeongsik showed no signs of shutting his mouth.
"Wow, look at that shape! How did they manage to create curves like that?"
"Yeah, you're right."
"Wow, look at that brushed decoration on the surface!"
"Hmm."
"Wow, that one over there...!"
"I'm already feeling miserable. Could you shut up for a little while?"
Nevertheless, I had to admit that I, too, was captivated by the delicately crafted forms and the mesmerizing colors of the glazes.
The two of us were enchanted by the displayed ceramics like country bumpkins who had just arrived in the big city.
Japanese ceramics, which had originated in Joseon, had now developed independently, evolving into something different from their original roots.
Lee Jeongsik sighed.
"Hey, you know what I realize every time I visit a ceramics festival overseas?"
"What?"
"Korean ceramics still have a long way to go."
"Why are you suddenly criticizing Korean ceramics?"
"Think about it. In the West, Chinese ceramics are called china, and Japanese ceramics are called japan. So why aren't Korean ceramics called korea?"
China was a word most people knew simply as the name of a country.
However, when written with a lowercase c rather than a capital C, china meant porcelain or ceramic tableware. It was as though China represented all ceramics.
The same applied to the word japan. Written with a lowercase j, japan referred to Japanese-style ceramics or lacquerware.
But the word korea didn't represent anything of the sort. To Westerners, neither Goryeo celadon nor Joseon white porcelain was distinctly Korean. They were simply categorized as china.
It was understandable that Lee Jeongsik, a graduate student who had completed his master's coursework in ceramics, was so indignant.
"People around the world still don't understand the excellence of Korean ceramics. They just dismiss them as imitations of Chinese or Japanese pottery."
"Is that so?"
"And we're going to change this backward reality by succeeding as ceramic artists. You and me. So stop thinking about preparing for that stupid civil service examination. What do you say?"
"You crazy bastard."
They said that too much arrogance was a disease.
He hadn't even become a famous artist in Korea, yet he wanted to introduce Korean ceramics to the entire world?
After years of being enslaved to graduate school, I was starting to worry that my friend's brain had finally gone haywire.
But Lee Jeongsik paid no attention to my concerns and continued.
"Someday, you and I will become world-famous ceramic artists. We'll make people call Korean-style ceramics korea! Doesn't that thought alone make your heart race?"
"You must have eaten something bad. Maybe there was something wrong with the airplane food..."
"The airplane food?"
"Maybe the chicken had gone bad. That would explain why you're talking nonsense."
"Nonsense? Just think about the period before the Imjin War! Back then, Korean ceramics were the real deal! Chinese and Japanese people were crazy about Korean pottery!"
"At least remember to breathe while you're talking."
"Fine, I can accept Japanese ceramics being called japan. But why is lacquerware also called japan? Do those Yankees not even know that Korea has mother-of-pearl lacquerware?"
"All right, all right. I get it."
Lee Jeongsik continued enthusiastically praising the excellence and potential of Korean ceramics for quite some time.
After we passed through several more streets, he finally seemed to regain his senses. He calmed down and asked me a question.
"Is preparing for the civil service examination worth it?"
His tone was serious, so I answered just as seriously.
"Do you think it's worth it? I guess that saying about there being no paradise in the place you run away to is true. What about you? You've never run away from your path. Is being a ceramic artist worth it?"
Even after graduating from university, he hadn't abandoned his dream of becoming a ceramic artist.
He had worked part-time jobs while pursuing his master's degree, rented a place to set up his own workshop, and continued making pottery. Whenever he needed a kiln to fire his ceramics, he would load his work onto a truck, haul it to the university, and use the school's kiln with permission from a professor.
Of course, five years had passed, yet he still hadn't become a famous artist or achieved financial stability.
Even so, Lee Jeongsik continued to pursue his path as a ceramic artist.
Perhaps the reason he became so excited while going on about china, japan, and korea was that he still hadn't let go of his dream.
Having a dream is a wonderful thing, I thought.
At the very least, Lee Jeongsik seemed to have passion.
Unlike me, who was holed up in Noryangjin, repeating the same routine every day and gradually turning into a studying machine.
But the next moment, Lee Jeongsik said something I had never expected.
"I'm so exhausted I could die. Working with clay is hard enough, and I barely earn enough to keep food on the table... I can't even make a proper living. And I still have to finish my master's thesis."
I had expected him to say something about how beautiful life was when you had a dream.
Instead, he spoke about reality with startling bluntness.
"Maybe this trip..."
"……Yeah?"
"Maybe I didn't suggest this trip for your sake after all. Perhaps I did it for myself. I wondered if visiting a Japanese ceramics festival might help me strengthen my resolve again, because lately I've kept wanting to give up on ceramics."
So that was it.
Self-reproach showed on Lee Jeongsik's face.
I thought for a moment, trying to come up with something comforting to say, but nothing came to mind easily.
What kind of comfort could a long-term exam candidate offer anyone?
That was when it happened.
I want to go back.
I heard someone mutter those words.
"Huh?"
"What's wrong? Why are you making that strange face?"
"Didn't someone just say they wanted to go back?"
"Who? Me? We just arrived in Japan today. Why would I want to go back?"
"I'm sure I heard someone say in Korean that they wanted to go back."
"Maybe you misheard another tourist."
I looked around.
My gaze eventually settled on an old-looking ceramics shop. I didn't know why my attention had been drawn to it, but I suddenly felt an urge to go inside.
The shop had a black signboard with red lettering that read .
"Arai no Kobo... Arai's Workshop."
Lee Jeongsik muttered the name. His Japanese had improved considerably thanks to his habit of constantly watching Japanese anime.
I pointed toward Arai's Workshop.
"I'm curious about that place. Want to take a look inside?"
"Sure."
Creak.
The moment I opened the door and stepped inside, my eyes immediately settled on a single white porcelain piece displayed in a corner of the shop.
Strangely enough, I felt as though the porcelain was calling out to me.
I couldn't see any of the other ceramics. My attention was completely absorbed by that one piece.
As I approached it, I was finally able to identify what it was.
It wasn't an ordinary vessel.
"This is... an incense burner."
It had a rounded body for burning incense, a lid decorated with intricate geometric openwork, and a sturdy base supporting the two pieces.
Compared with the crude colors and shapes of the ordinary iron incense burners used during ancestral rites, this one was incomparably beautiful.
Its appearance was so exquisite that I felt as though lighting incense inside it could guide even a soul exhausted to its very core by the hardships of the world toward enlightenment.
Delicate lines spread across its surface, covered in a soft, calming milky-white glaze.
The incense burner's elegant curves rose from its firm foot, flowed gently over its rounded shoulders, and then swept upward along the handle of the lid, soaring gracefully toward the heavens.
Watching me admire its harmonious design, Lee Jeongsik murmured.
"Were you interested in incense burners back when we were undergraduates?"
"Not particularly, but there's something special about that one."
"Well, it is pretty."
"It's not just pretty. It's perfect. That's a perfect piece of pottery."
"That incense burner is that amazing?"
Just then, the shopkeeper emerged from the back of the store.
He had a gentle-looking face.
"Welcome. Have you come to look at our ceramics?"
Lee Jeongsik translated for me.
I'd thought he was just an anime fanatic, but it turned out he was surprisingly useful as an interpreter.
Through him, I asked the shopkeeper a question.
"You didn't make this incense burner yourself, did you?"
The shopkeeper's eyes widened.
"How did you know I didn't make it?"
"Look at all the tiny crazing cracks covering the surface. Those kinds of cracks don't develop over just a year or two. That means this isn't a recently made piece of pottery."
Crazing referred to the fine cracks that appeared across the surface of a ceramic glaze. Unlike cracks caused by the pottery itself breaking, they formed a kind of pattern.
The crazing on this incense burner looked as though it had developed over at least a hundred years.
The shopkeeper smiled warmly.
"That's exactly right. You seem to know quite a bit about ceramics."
"Ah... no, not really. I just learned a little about them a long time ago."
"It's beautiful, isn't it? That incense burner?"
"Yes, it is."
"You have a good eye."
"Even someone without an eye for ceramics would fall in love with it at first sight. Was it made by one of your ancestors?"
"No, unfortunately, this incense burner wasn't made by the Arai family. It's the work of Nanashi."
"Nanashi?"
Lee Jeongsik briefly explained.
"It means nameless, someone without a name."
"Nameless... Then why are you keeping a nameless artist's work here?"
"It's been here for a long time, so we've simply continued to keep it here."
"What?"
Was that some kind of Zen riddle?
I couldn't quite understand what he meant.
"Once, I was curious about that myself, so I asked my father. I wanted to know why he displayed a piece of pottery that didn't belong to our family. He told me that it had been in the shop during the generation before his, and even the generation before that. Apparently, one of our distant ancestors found it in this village a long time ago and brought it here. So even though it isn't our family's work, we simply leave it here until someone buys it. You could call it a kind of camaraderie."
"Camaraderie?"
"The potter who made that incense burner must have been someone brought here from Joseon, just like our ancestors."
"Oh, then your family also came from Joseon..."
"The surname Arai is, in many cases, a changed version of the Korean surname Park."
"Oh."
Lee Jeongsik's explanation naturally reminded me of something I'd learned in the history of ceramics.
It was the tragic history of Arita, where potters with various surnames had been forcibly brought from Joseon, including Yi Sam-pyeong, who was revered as the founding father of Japanese ceramics.
A question suddenly occurred to me, so I asked the shopkeeper.
"Um, you said this incense burner was for sale, right?"
"That's correct."
"I don't understand. Why hasn't such an extraordinary piece of pottery been sold yet? Is the price too high?"
The shopkeeper smiled gently and pointed behind the incense burner.
"Please take a look at the back."
"Ah..."
"Oh, ah..."
Lee Jeongsik and I let out startled exclamations almost simultaneously.
A large, dark stain resembling black soot covered the back of the incense burner.
It was a flawed piece.
There was no way such damage wouldn't affect the value of an artwork.
"What caused that mark...?"
"I'm not sure. I don't know either. It seems that when the pottery was fired, something other than clay or glaze stuck to it."
"If it weren't for that mark, this would be worth an incredible amount of money. It completely ruined the pottery..."
Lee Jeongsik realized he'd said something insensitive and fell silent.
The shopkeeper responded as though he didn't mind.
"It's certainly a shame."
The front of the piece was extraordinarily beautiful, while the back bore a mysterious blackened mark whose origin was unknown.
I couldn't help wondering what story the incense burner held.
"May I touch it for a moment?"
"Of course."
I carefully picked up the porcelain.
Then my fingers touched the black mark.
The next moment, I was no longer in Arita.
This place...
Is this the Joseon Dynasty?
A basin filled with thatched-roof houses stretched out before me.
The people were wearing white hanbok stained with dirt.
Unless this was a folk village, those people had to be laborers from the Joseon era.
I walked down the hill toward the village.
The people seemed unable to see me. They continued concentrating on their work as though I weren't there.
Some people walked along carrying bundles of freshly cut wood on their backs, using walking sticks to support themselves.
Nearby, others placed clay on wooden boards and pounded it into shape.
Still others were stirring glaze.
Kilns stood along a sloping road leading into the village. Smoke poured from the chimneys of several kilns, suggesting that pottery was being fired inside.
A man dressed in official robes appeared to have come from the government office. Accompanied by people wearing the uniforms of patrol officers, he was receiving ceramic wares as tribute.
As I watched the people, I naturally realized that I was looking at a government-operated kiln from the Joseon Dynasty.
What's going on? Am I suddenly dreaming? Why on earth am I here?
The next moment, my body, which had been treated like that of an invisible person, was abruptly pulled toward one particular spot as though a magnet had seized me.
There, an elderly man who looked to be in his sixties was tending the fire in a kiln. His hair was unusually thick and jet-black.
The old man turned his head and looked at me.
"You're here?"