“War is not to be decided by the wealthy! As the only casualties in war are the poor. War must not be decided by the old! As the only ones who die are the young. Is it right for a child to hold a funeral for his father or is it right for a father to hold a funeral for his child? We have already held countless funerals for our children by the hands of our fathers.”
Jung Do-jeon, Six Flying Dragons
I don’t know about you, but I’m about ready to join the revolution and overthrow the corrupt Goryeo dynasty!
The powerful final scene caps off an episode that had so many characters and so many flashbacks that I got quite lost at one point. But thanks to the power of the internet (we really do live in a golden age of information), I was able to sort it out. I think. Mostly.
One of my watch mates, Ayaan, compared the final speech and rousing song by Sambong (the scholar and official, Jung Do-jeon, and one of our eponymous six dragons) as a Do You Hear the People Sing moment, aka Les Miserables. And while the French Revolution allegories are not entirely apropos, there is a powerful sense of rising up against the powerful and levelling of society in the way the show is unfolding.
The song Mu-Yi-Yi-Ya (Eng: Is there any difference)? speaks of two kind of death as being analogous: death by war and death by corrupt officials. It says that there is no difference between the sword and politics when it’s the innocent who die. It’s a requiem but one that calls for anger over the wildflowers strewn underfoot of the powerful.
Some of those wildflowers are the beggar children the Lee Bang-won has run away from home to join. His disillusionment with his father gives us several powerful and compelling scenes with those children (including the pint-sized badass Boon-yi, played by a Lee Re who is already an exceptional actor at the age of nine). Boon-yi and her older brother, Ddang-sae merely want to find their missing mother but in doing so they lead Bang-won to Jung Do-jeon. Do-jeon promises that he can stop the dangerous rapprochement between Goryeo and Yuan that could lead to war with Ming.
Do-jeon’s crowd-stirring, blood pumping speech at the end of the episode then becomes more than a successful plan to stymie efforts to re-align with Yuan. It also frames Do-jeon as a man who keeps his promises and can affect change – a man with the social power that Bang-won’s father seemingly lacks. It’s no surprise that Bang-won looks up at the end on a new father figure.
But for the young Ddang-sae, he sees something different when he gazes upon the ascendant Do-jeon. As the man bursts into song, he hears his mother’s voice. This is the person who may be able to help him find her.
Nonetheless the episode’s finest line goes to the Yuan envoy before he scurries off to report the response of Goryeo to their overtures. The empire may be strong but the individual wants to keep breathing. And with that, Lee In-gyeom’s dreams of dialogue with Yuan are dead.
The great Yuan has nothing to fear! But we are human beings with only one life.
Yuan envoy, Six Flying Dragons
Six Flying Dragons’ second episode ratchets up the stakes for our prepubescent protagonists and puts them right in the centre of the action. And despite its drive-by exposition designed for viewers who already know the period of history it’s fictionalising – and its somewhat dated direction at some points -it’s a quality hour of television. If it keeps up this pace and this level of writing, I can understand how so many make it all the way through.
Other important revelations this hour include the confession of Lee In-gyeom that somebody in the shadows is pulling his strings. It’s something he’s not happy about but since he benefits from their intervention he’s acted accordingly to date. Who this mysterious puppet master is remains to be seen.
And that’s two down and only 48 to go!
Which should be a piece of cake for somebody who’s also watching 700 episodes of Doctor Who...
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