Installation view of 《Shininho Opening Number》 (Mihakgwan, 2024) ©Mihakgwan

Ecce homo
 

Shininho 新人號

Among the countless human “species” existing on Earth, only the lineage known as “grandmothers” continues to expand its power. Men, apart from “sowing seed” to impregnate the female beings who may one day become grandmothers, are of little use. By weaving life for themselves and fully making it their own, grandmothers are invariably kind and considerate, and they possess the dignity and authority of leaders who guide the masses. Grandmothers are a charismatic class who stand before people as agents of divine grace and miracles.

Only they maintain humanity in a world where humaneness has been erased, and only they leverage that humanity to claim superiority over other life-forms. All other tribes either serve grandmothers in hopes of being chosen by them, or live under their rule, spending their youth waiting to grow old enough to become grandmothers themselves. And among these grandmothers, there is but one who advances toward a new kind of human.

Behold this person. Before you is the ship that once again announces a new departure. She is the head of the vessel Shininho and its captain—Shininho.
 


Shininho 申仁浩

She was born in 1938 in Korea, under Japanese colonial rule. That same year, the Nazis annexed Austria, followed by the Kristallnacht incident in Germany. When Shininho turned eight, Korea gained independence, but before long the Korean War broke out. Married off to a man chosen by her parents whose face she hardly knew, she nonetheless made a life with him for over fifty years. The days stacked up, time passed, her husband went to heaven first, and she was alone again for several years.

Her children grew up; she might see their faces once or twice a year, if that. Eating and sleeping—she takes care of it all herself. Returned to solitude, she tends to herself. Those who are pushed off the stage of this world—we call them the elderly. She cries out that she is still part of the world, but only an echo of her own voice resounds in her head. No one looks at a grandmother.
Behold this person. A grandmother is a ghost wandering this city.

Installation view of 《Shininho Opening Number》 (Mihakgwan, 2024) ©Mihakgwan

Shininho 申仁浩

Each morning, she places water on a small altar she has set up in the corner of her room and prays to her ancestors—whose identities she no longer clearly remembers. She cannot quite recall for whom she prays or what she prays for, but she asks the heavenly and earthly deities that all things may be at peace, and that the rest of her life may be tranquil. She prays to finish this life quietly without relying on anyone or being a burden, without any major incident—just as things are now.

The glories of youth are long gone. She straightens her clothes each morning and steps outside, but with nowhere in particular to go. In the mirror stands an old person wandering the neighborhood with nothing to do. In youth, time seemed to fly like an arrow loosed from the bow; in old age, nothing presses her except the stomach clock that marks mealtimes. When did I grow this old? Though people say time is indifferent, she is grateful to live anchoring the memories that fade day by day to the present.

Behold this person—her hunched back and awkward gait, the wrinkled knuckles and lifeless skin, the faded mind that cannot tell yesterday from ten years ago, this worn body—behold the finitude of human aging.
 


Shininho 信認好

She stands tall; the resolve felt in her back as she signals a new beginning is noble and composed. Why does her back, facing the sea, feel different today? Crossing seas and roaming the world, she has filled the hold with victories, honor, and the spoils that follow. Sailing the waters as a raider, anything that opposes her or breaks her code—living or dead—she beheads and casts into the sea.

Thus the sea around Shininho is forever tinged red. On this ship there is no origin, no ethnicity, no nation. Only the will of those aboard and their desire for life—where one came from or who one is does not matter. Within this transnational, trans-ethnic community, Captain Shininho bears a grave responsibility as she governs and leads. She fears nothing; there is no servility in her life. She has no mercy for traitors, yet answers with near-infinite loyalty to those who keep their word. People called her Shininho (信認好), “one who believes without doubt.”

Behold this person—the reincarnation, perhaps, of Madame Ching, the “empress of the seas” of Qing-era waters.²

Now, Shininho and Captain Shininho have moored for a moment at Mihakgwan. She looked back over her life but soon stopped thinking. There is no time to think: uncharted worlds yet to visit, adventures waiting for her, and the desires of others aboard this ship still urge her on. She has no time. Behold—this is the person.³ ⁴ ⁵ ⁶
 


Text: Seulbi Lee


1. On the night of November 9, 1938, Nazi SA stormtroopers looted and attacked Jewish shops and synagogues. Because the glass in shop windows shattered across the streets, the incident became known as “Kristallnacht.”
2. Madame Ching (1775–1844), from one of China’s ethnic minorities, is known as the female pirate king who dominated the seas of East Asia during the Age of Exploration. In Korean she is called “Jeong Il-su.” It is speculated that “Mistress Ching,” who appears briefly on a bounty list in Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End (2007), may have been inspired by Madame Ching.
3. “Ecce homo” (“Behold the man”) appears in the Gospel of John, one of the four Gospels recording the Passion of Jesus upon his entry into Jerusalem; it is the cry of Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor, addressing the crowd while presenting Jesus in a purple robe and a crown of thorns.
4. Pilate’s cry—“Behold the man!”—introducing Jesus before his crucifixion was a religious icon beloved by many late medieval masters, including Titian (Tiziano Vecellio).
5. Nietzsche’s final work, Ecce Homo, was written in 1888 and published in 1908. As an autobiographical text, it is considered essential for understanding his often difficult writings despite its brevity. Including the preface, its chapters are titled “Why I Am So Wise,” “Why I Am So Clever,” “Why I Write Such Good Books,” etc. (See: Friedrich Nietzsche, The Case of Wagner · Twilight of the Idols · The Antichrist · Ecce Homo · Dionysian-Dithyrambs · Nietzsche contra Wagner, trans. Baek Seung-young, ChaekSesang, 2016, pp. 321–375.) The title Ecce Homo borrows Pilate’s line from the Gospel of John. While Pilate points to Jesus as “the man,” Nietzsche sets himself in counterpoint to Jesus. From placing himself on the same plane as Christ to the boundless self-confidence and self-praise that follow—this stance stems from opposition and critique toward Christianity’s emphasis on humility and social conformity. Some read this near-delusional confidence as a harbinger of the madness that overtook Nietzsche in his final years, but within his philosophy it can be read as an affirmation of life and pride in existence.
6. Inspired by Nietzsche’s work, British SF writer Michael Moorcock published the novel Behold the Man (1969). Its protagonist, whose life is going nowhere, travels by time machine to A.D. 28 to seek Jesus’s teachings, only to find Jesus and the Virgin Mary far from the figures described in Scripture—no better off than the protagonist himself. By the end, having accidentally taken on the role of Jesus in the Gospel narrative, the protagonist is nailed to the cross, regretting everything. (Michael Moorcock, Behold the Man, trans. Choi Yong-joon, Sigongsa, 2013.) Sharp in its skepticism toward Christian doctrine, this anti-Christian novel won the Nebula Award, one of SF’s major prizes, in 1967.

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