Chapter 04 ….
Mozart in Joseon
First Courtyard
The Magistrate’s Household, a Prodigy, Gaeddongi (2)
As time passed, I experienced several changes in my emotions.
One was how I felt toward my new father and new mother.
The unfamiliarity and awkwardness had not completely disappeared, but seeing how devotedly they cared for me on days when I couldn’t even support my own body, my heart gradually began to open to them.
The second was a growing sense of doubt.
Since being reborn, I had never once stepped outside this room. Because of that, I kept wondering whether this really was Earth at all, and whether there was any way to return. The doubts refused to leave my mind.
If only there were something I could be certain of—but inside this room, there wasn’t a single object that could be connected to Europe.
How I was reborn, where this place was, why it had to be here.
The more I thought about it, the more it felt as though I were being pulled into a deep abyss in my chest.
“This is troubling. He doesn’t smile at all and won’t even drink milk. I don’t know what to do.”
“Indeed. We don’t even know the reason.”
My new father lifted me into his arms.
“What are you planning to do?”
“I was thinking of taking Gaeddongi out for a walk. He’s never left this room since being born—wouldn’t he feel stifled?”
“Will that be all right?”
“More than a hundred days have passed, and the weather has warmed. It should be fine. Since even the physician can’t find anything wrong, it seems like an illness of the heart rather than the body.”
Holding me, my new father opened the door.
The first things that came into view were the clear sky and lush green mountains.
He began walking slowly, stroking my back, and I realized that the building I had been staying in was located deep within the estate.
It was surrounded by walls and gates, protected by other buildings.
“Ah?”
What surprised me was how many such buildings there were.
Each time we passed through a gate in the wall, another building appeared.
It seemed that instead of constructing tall structures, this place built many buildings across a wide estate, each used for a different purpose.
“Do you feel a bit better now?”
My new father said something.
Judging by how slowly he walked so I could look around, it seemed he wanted to show off the house.
And it was understandable—the exterior of the buildings was quite impressive.
They lacked the grandeur and splendor of the massive estates of European nobility, since they were single-story.
But the blue roofs with graceful curves and the red wooden pillars supporting them were deeply appealing.
Passing through yet another gate, a particularly large building came into view.
It was a long structure with nine rooms visible from the front alone, and with its raised foundation, it clearly didn’t belong to an ordinary household.
The courtyard was spacious as well.
“This is where Grandfather stays,” my new father said.
“Gaeddongi, you like Grandfather’s geomungo, don’t you? He plays it over there in the pavilion.”
He turned his body to show me an open-sided structure.
A single bird was perched on the railing.
I couldn’t see it clearly from this distance, but it instantly reminded me of the starling I once kept.
Wanting a closer look, I stretched out my hand toward the bird.
“A bird? Do you want to see the bird?”
My new father spoke, then carefully approached the starling.
It flew away almost immediately, so I couldn’t observe it closely—but though the color of its feathers was different, it was unmistakably a starling.
When I began gaining recognition in Vienna, I bought a starling and kept it for three years.
There was no way I could be mistaken.¹)
Starlings disappear in winter and reappear in summer, and the bird seller once told me they crossed the Mediterranean to warmer regions during the winter.
If they could cross the sea, they must be able to travel distances far beyond human imagination—so couldn’t they reach this place as well?
If so, then perhaps this land and Vienna were connected after all.
* * *
After my first outing, I used every method imaginable to coax my new father into taking me for walks whenever I saw him.
Even throwing tantrums if necessary, I forced him to carry me outside—and it paid off.
At first, I wondered if this estate was a small village, it was that vast. Beside buildings that appeared to house servants, there was even a stable.
There, I discovered four cows, two horses, and a chicken coop.
Though different from what I had seen in Europe, just as the people here looked different from Europeans,
there were unmistakably animals that could be identified as cows, horses, and chickens.
Letting go of even a small portion of the doubt that this might not be the world I knew,
I began to see hope that a way back existed.
With the small hope that I might see my family again, my lethargy vanished, and what I needed to do became clear.
Language.
Over the past few days, I tried to connect repeated situations with repeated words, and I managed to understand a few.
My new mother repeatedly said “eomma” or “eomeoni” to me, which seemed to mean something like Mutter or Mama.
Constanze and I had done the same, repeating words in hopes that our child would call us mother and father.
In a similar way, I tried to guess names. My new parents called me “son,” “baby,” “my child,” and “Gaeddong.”
There were so many terms of address that I still didn’t know which one was actually my name.
The sound of “Gaeddong” appealed to me for some reason, so whenever they called me that, I waved my hands excitedly. Gradually, they began using “Gaeddong” more often.
If I continued learning words like this, the day would eventually come when we could communicate, and I’d be able to understand this place more accurately.
The only regret was that I couldn’t produce proper sounds yet.
Language must be learned by speaking it, but as an infant, my vocal organs were underdeveloped—I couldn’t properly pronounce even German, let alone the language of this land.
—Didn’t I tell you to throw this out?
A rough voice came from outside.
—The magistrate’s wife said to throw everything away except for gamju.
—What? Throw away all this precious liquor?
—Whether it’s precious or not, if that’s what the lady said, you do it. Why all the complaining?
—Good grief. So we really throw everything away?
—Yes, you idiot!
…Grandma?
It seemed my hearing, like my vocal organs, wasn’t fully developed yet.
It definitely meant something else, but it sounded like the English word for grandmother.
“What is going on?”
My new mother spoke in a dignified voice.
—I apologize. We were told yesterday to dispose of all the liquor, but it hadn’t been done yet, so I was scolding them.
Someone outside replied.
“A prohibition has been issued. Don’t delay—throw everything away.”²)
—Yes. We will do so.
Though I couldn’t fully understand the conversation, the respectful attitude of the man outside and the authoritative tone of my new mother made the class difference unmistakable.
This household was undoubtedly that of wealthy nobility.
Every piece of furniture and object was luxurious, there appeared to be more than twenty servants, and they owned four cows—which meant they had extensive farmland.
The estate itself was vast, and there was even a well inside the house.
While perhaps not a titled noble with a castle, this was likely the wealthiest household in the area.
That could be of great help in returning to Europe.
However, using this family’s wealth troubled me in many ways.
I was already grateful enough for being given a second life—I couldn’t squander the family fortune knowing I would someday return to Vienna.
Travel expenses should be earned by my own hands.
Still, I didn’t know how much money I would need, nor how far Vienna was from here, so I would have to secure as much as possible.
When I was young, my father and I traveled throughout Europe, and each time we had to hold concerts for nobility.
The savings of an ordinary court musician were never enough to cover such costs.
That was within Europe—so how much more money would it take to travel from here to Vienna?
And there was no guarantee I could earn money along the way.
I couldn’t be sure there would be cities or audiences capable of hosting concerts.
Therefore, I had to gather as much money as possible here.
No matter how limited this land’s currency might be, there would certainly be universally accepted wealth like gold or silver.
Fortunately, there seemed to be a demand for music.
The unidentified string instrument occasionally heard within the household, and the performer proficient in it, were of a level rare even in Europe.
Such a virtuoso could not exist without demand for music.
That was enough.
As long as there were people who loved music, there was no way my music—and I—would not be loved.
After all, I was someone who sold concert tickets not only to nobles, but to common citizens as well.
If I performed my unfinished Requiem, the compositions I had only imagined, and the musical ideas endlessly welling up inside me, I would certainly earn money.
I wouldn’t be able to spend it extravagantly like before—but still.
“Ah.”
I suddenly met my new mother’s gaze.
She smiled gently at me.
That’s right. There’s no need to think so negatively.
Though it’s daunting, this is far better than death.
Someday, I can reunite with my family and continue making music.
That alone is enough to stand up and move forward again.
Notes
-
Mozart purchased a starling on May 27, 1784.
After the starling died, Mozart composed a poem in its memory and even held a funeral for it.
One theory suggests that the bird’s song inspired Piano Concerto No. 17 in G major, K.453.
The starling species native to Vienna at the time was the white-spotted starling, which is of the same genus but a different species from the white-cheeked starling found in Joseon.
Though both species are noisy, social, and somewhat similar in appearance, they are clearly different birds.
However, since species classification was not precise at the time, this story assumes Mozart could mistake them for the same bird. -
On September 10, 1755, King Yeongjo, while deliberating alcohol prohibition policies, decided that only ritual wine (gamju) would be used for ancestral rites, banning all other alcohol.
In 1756, he officially proclaimed a nationwide prohibition, mandating gamju for all rituals and severely punishing violations.
Reference: Annals of King Yeongjo, Year 31, September 10.
