KOREA FOCUS

Like every Seoulite, I was shocked and saddened at the fire that devastated National Treasure No. 1. I was also surprised to read that the Cultural Heritage Administration`s head had offered his resignation; the disaster was hardly his fault.

But if his agency is shaken up over the Namdaemun (South Gate) affair, so much the better. According to its website, the CHA is “creating added value from cultural heritage.” Like a number of foreigners here, I believe it is doing a poor job.

With National Treasure No 1 a smoldering ruin, I spent Sunday afternoon at what most guidebooks consider Tourism Attraction No 1: Gyeongbok Palace. At the ticket office, I was surprised that there were no audio guides, leaflets or maps for foreigners. Well, the palace must be well signposted, I surmised. So in I went.

Gyeongbok Palace is an architectural masterpiece. Standing in front of the throne hall, framed by its gate, with the majestic Mt. Bukhan as the background, one concedes that Great Master Muhak and King Taejo sited this fairytale palace perfectly. The buildings themselves, with their graceful roofs, ornate beamwork, secluded courtyards and patterned brickwork, are among the finest examples of Asian royal architecture.

But this is not an architectural garden, it is heritage, a historical site. What does the visitor learn of life in a Joseon palace? What of kings and queens, ministers and soldiers, concubines and eunuchs? What of coronations and coups, triumphs and disasters, scandals and intrigues? What tales do these stones tell?

Damn few. If one`s first impression is of the majesty of the exteriors, one`s second is of the poverty of the interiors: a succession of gloomy, dusty chambers. The throne hall has a few artifacts here and there, but they impart neither color nor life. If anything, the display detracts from the chamber`s dignity. Remarkably, there is more light and color in the subway station leading to it than in the palace itself.

As I approached the living quarters, I wondered: With the formal halls behind me, would I learn of day-to-day life? What did royalty eat? Where did they bathe? How did they recreate? How were relations with eunuchs and concubines? Who became a eunuch or a concubine? And why?

I have no idea. The buildings are all empty shells. Signboard text deals almost exclusively with dates and dimensions – “Gyeonghoeru`s floors are 933 sq. meters, with 24 pillars” – ignoring the people who populated the place. They also lack visuals, beyond line drawings of what is in front of you. The only historical photos are on fencing where restoration is underway. And there are not many signboards; on the smaller buildings the only English signage reads “Keep Out.”

OK, the boards do discuss certain historical events: Japanese atrocities. And even these are inaccurate. The palace was burned by furious locals, not invading Japanese. (That itself says something about the relationship between the ruler and the ruled.) Myeongsong was a queen, not an “empress”; she was murdered two years before Gojeong proclaimed the Korean Empire. And how did the queen die, that night? Why was she killed? The tourist will have no idea.

Beside the palace is the modish National Palace Museum. It is chock-full of colorful royal objects, original and replica: robes and paintings, weapons and ornaments, flags and screens. All are beautifully presented. But why are they here? Why not make the palace the museum? And – again! – why has the human element been removed? Who were Joseon`s greatest and worst kings? What happened to the Yi royal family, post-republic? There is no information, no figurines or reproductions. Most of the captions record what the objects are ― not how they were used, or why. Take “King Injong`s Placenta Jar.” Why was his placenta kept? Where? By whom? Where is it now?

Emerson wrote, “There is properly no history, only biography.” The CHA has subtracted the stories from history, removed the “yeok” from “yeoksa.” What we have, in two separate locations, are buildings and objects. There is no life, no human context.

I am not criticizing the palace or its restorers. The architecture is superb. But as a national asset Gyeongbok Palace should be much more. Furnishings, objects and figurines could be placed in some rooms to show how they looked when the palace was inhabited. The rooms could be lit ― and why not pipe in courtly music? With “Daejanggeum” such a hit Asia-wide, why not explore the reality with a display of the royal kitchens in situ? Korea has superb digital technology, which could feature CG reconstructions, the palaces in different seasons, historical events great and small, etc. It is not leveraged here. Why no walking course or audio guide? Even Beijing`s Forbidden City offers these; 007 actor Roger Moore narrates the English version.

Overseas, actors dressed in authentic costumes role-play the part of guides. In the Tower of London, guides will tell you: “On that cold winter morning in 1649, Charles I ascended the scaffold…he gave the executioner a sign…the ax dropped…as passers-by dipped their handkerchiefs in his blood, his head rolled over to where that lady is standing!” (Cue: Tourists jump.) I was at the fortress of Les Beaux in Provence last summer. They had a troupe of re-enactors recreating medieval combat in the keep; tourists were later allowed to handle their weapons.

I am not suggesting Gyeongbok Palace be turned into Disneyland. Nor am I suggesting history be “dummified” like a TV soap. There are ways to creatively inject life and color without impacting dignity. As it is, Gyeongbok Palace presents history the way bad schoolteachers do: Lots of names, dates and dimensions to memorize, few stories to bring it alive.

Even the foreign community has stories passed down. King Gojeong once wandered from Deoksu Palace into the British Legation, where he watched the ambassador playing tennis. “Very interesting,” he said. “But why not get your servants to do it for you?” Or there is the old joke that the serving girls used to flee Gyeonghui Palace at night for fear of ghosts; the eunuchs stayed, “because they had nothing to lose.”

Gyeongbok Palace itself has a wealth of stories. Tigers from Mt. Inwhang invaded. It suffered fires and destruction.

It is human nature for people to remember stories and events better than names and numbers. The bureaucrats who run the palaces could learn from U.S. historian David McCullough: “No harm's done to history by making it something someone would want to read.” As it is, foreign visitors to Gyeongbok Palace will leave with a camera-full of photos, but little idea of people and events beyond Japanese brutality. Is that the sum of Joseon history?

The CHA may argue that its aim is to “preserve and glorify heritage” not inform tourists. But tourism represents over 10 percent of global GDP. Lee Myung-bak has vowed to raise the competitiveness of inbound tourism. Good. He could start with the palaces.

Such magnificent assets! Such conservative management!