[Author’s Note: This essay was published in S/HE: An International Journal of Goddress Studiess V5 N1 (2026). Footnotes numbers of these sequels do not match with those in the original publication.]

Personal Journey and the Establishment of Creatrix Studies
How did I come to establish Creatrix Studies? To answer this question, I need to explain how I have made myself as a scholar and advocate of Creatrix Studies. I have always been a scholar of the Cosmic Mother ever since I chose to write about the topic of Mago for my doctoral dissertation. “The Goddess” meant the Cosmic Mother for me from the start. The trajectory of my research and scholarship on Ceto-Magoism has evolved over the span of the past twenty-six years. Each stage involves a qualitative leap accompanied by neologisms, inaugural essays introducing such projects as Return to Mago E-Magazine, Mago Academy, Mago Books, the S/HE Journal, the Mago-Whale Pilgrimage to Korea, the annual S/HE Conference, the S/HE forum, and so forth.
“Mago” was an almost completely unknown name in academia in the year 2000 when I first encountered it in The Budoji (Epic of the Emblem Capital City), the ancient text of Old Korea reappeared in the 1980s in Korea. I was able to collect a plethora of primary sources from Korea and East Asia in an effort to validate The Budoji, which I designated as the principal text of Magoism (the Way of Mago, the Creatrix). My years thereafter have been dedicated to researching and writing on Ceto-Magoism extensively. The term, Ceto-Magoism, was coined in 2024 to refer to the Cetacean Providence involved in the consciousness of the Cosmic Mother. At first, I named Magoism the pan-East-Asian mytho-historical-cultural matrix wherein Mago is venerated as the Cosmic Mother. While the majority of primary sources are discussed in my dissertation, articles, essays, lectures, and books, a lot more materials remain to be discussed in my forthcoming articles and books.
My research has been interdisciplinary from the start, calling its method the mytho-historical-cultural reconstruction of Magoism, which interweaves mythology, history, folklore, toponymy, religion, culture, literature, art, thealogy, philosophy, and archaeology. In fact, I do not discriminate against any source concerning Mago and later Ceto-Magoism. For me, reconstructing Ceto-Magoism is the purpose and the method of Creatrix Studies.
Called by the Legacy of Old Korean Ceto-Magoism
What propels me to chisel out Creatrix Studies as a field of study? Ultimately, the driving force comes from my identity as Korean descent. I have wondered for a long time what set me on the life of seeking truth. About thirty years ago, I returned to graduate studies to study feminism and religion as a way of learning about my own identity as a feminist of Korean descent. I had served as a member of a U.S.-based Catholic overseas missionary organization for a total of about eight years. As part of the formation, I studied at the Maryknoll School of Theology in New York by taking courses on missiology and theology at the graduate level for three years. During this time, I was becoming a Christian feminist who seemed to find a niche in a multicultural form of Catholicism. My missionary ideal was focused on women and the poor of the so-called third world. After a brief period of missionary work in the Philippines, I became disillusioned about Christianity, Christian mission, and ultimately patriarchy. I returned home to Korea and withdrew my membership from Maryknoll Sisters.
Facing myself back with the fundamental question in my mid-twenties, “What do I want to do for my life?”, I had wished to study a subject in the humanities because I majored in Chemistry with a minor in Education for my undergraduate degree. My choice was clear. I wanted to pursue a graduate program in feminist studies and religion. I could not find a school in Korea, so I prepared myself to study in the U.S. By this time, I was closely connected with Mary Daly, the U.S. post-Christian feminist theologian, who eventually helped me find a school in the U.S. The program was a MA/Ph.D. dual degree program, Women’s Studies in Religion. I came alive in the intellectual environment. Courses that I took were on Process Theology, Whiteheadian philosophy, women and the female divine in different religions including Christianity, Buddhism, Islam, and indigenous religions. After the course work, I was allowed to write about Mago, the Cosmic Mother, of Korea for my dissertation, a topic which was not introduced to academia. Because there was no scholar or even a student who was familiar with the topic, I was advised to have two more dissertation advisors, a total of five advisors. I had Carol Christ who taught for Claremont School of Theology at that time and Timothy Tangherlini from UCLA specialized in Korean mythology. After my graduate education in Women’s Studies in Religion, I felt I lacked my scholarly background in Korean and East Asian Studies. I enrolled in an MA program in East Asian Studies and majored in Korean Buddhism in the late 2000s. My scholarly competence grew strongly in those years.
In retrospect, the Korean ethos, which I name today the collective matriversal sentiments of Old Korea, was the force behind my life’s drive from an early age. My parents and grandmothers as the transmitter of the legacy of Old Korean Ceto-Magoism shaped the basis of my soul. I was also influenced by primary school teachers and children’s fiction writers.[1] The influence of my paternal grandmother was immense in my childhood. I subconsciously sensed an aura of mythic reality she carried from a young age. The word and the person, “Grandmother,” was an entrance to the magical world of the old. I craved and was fascinated by the story she told me and my brothers at early ages. In retrospect, I received the intangible legacy of Old Korea through her.[2]
In my late teen years, I was guided by the mandate of “haehok bokbon (解惑復本 Removing Delusion and Restoring Origin),” the cultural legacy that I inherited. That was recognized as the inner drive of “seeking truth.” I did not have a name for it at that time. Now I would call it the Ceto-Magoist philosophical topos, the central message of The Budoji.[3] I just wanted peace in the mind and sought clarity in matters. For this, I kept a daily journal and wrote poetry earnestly. The inclination toward inner work in me was a cultural inheritance, as I find it as a phenomenon among other Koreans including my close ancestors.[4]
The trope, Removing Delusion and Restoring Origin, requires an understanding of the first colossal catastrophe. Removing Delusion and Restoring Origin refers to the mandate of Ceto-Magoists established in the wake of the first human-caused catastrophe, which affected not only all lifeforms on the planet but also the very ecological system of the planet. The Budoji lists two human-caused colossal catastrophes. These are referred to as the colossal catastrophes distinguished from others in the sense that they directly caused deterioration on the level of the terrestrial community as a whole, derailing the terrestrial community from the course of matriversal ontology.
The Korean expression, “tonghada (통하다 open in all directions or to pass through),” means to connect through, without blockage in the mind. The opposite of tonghada is makhida (막히다 to be blocked or to be interrupted). A person without the ability to comprehend a matter or a situation from all directions is a person blocked in the mind/heart. The Korean expression, kkak makhin saram (꽉 막힌 사람), means a person whose comprehension is blocked in all directions. Intelligence and spirituality run through those with the matriversal perspective.
Delusion refers to a newly acquired attitude that debilitated people in exercising the innate power of self-prohibition in the aftermath of the first catastrophe. That is, people were conditioned to be told not to do it. With this epistemological background, the mandate of Removing Delusion and Restoring Origin was issued by the leadership of Shaman Queens. It meant to restore sonic resonance in harmony with the Cosmic Music. To regain the original intellectual/spiritual aptitude, humans had to be guided and taught.
According to The Budoji, humans were born to manage terrestrial sonic resonance in harmony with the Cosmic Music:
1Although there were the Eight Beings who oversaw and administered the Original Music, there was no one to manifest the Resonance Phenomenon. 2Thus, things were born instantly and perished instantly, out of control. 3Mago commanded four Heavenly Beings and four Heavenly Women to reproduce by opening their sides. 4Then, four Heavenly Beings dated and mated with four Heavenly Women and each bore three sons and three daughters.[5]
The primordial earth prior to the arrival of humans underwent sonic imbalance. The Original Music (the Cosmic Music) was tamed by the work of the Nine Mago Creatrix (Mago’s Eight Grandchildren). However, there was no one to undertake the task of managing terrestrial sonic resonance. Lifeforms could not be sustained on the planet. In the above as in others, Mago is depicted as the agent of natural phenomena. S/HE willed humans to be born from HER Eight Divine Children. Like all other lifeforms, humans are musical instruments. Humans emit sound frequencies. And we humans are given the ability to manifest terrestrial sonic resonance collectively in harmony with the Cosmic Music. Delusion disrupts sonic harmony with ALL Else. Now I can say that delusion is consolidated through the patriarchal worldview. When delusion is removed, origin will naturally be restored. I was destined to undergo the course of awakening to the patriarchal delusion and reconstructing Ceto-Magoism in the coming decades. My reconstruction of Ceto-Magoism was an intellectual/spiritual logbook that records the journey of discovering the matriversal mandate.
Led by The Zhuangzi’s Ceto-Magoist Worldview
There is another piece that affirmed my subconscious attraction to “the Old Korean Ceto-Magoist legacy” in my youth. I was mesmerized by the thought of Zhuang Zhou, known as the ancient Daoist philosopher, in my late teen years and thereafter to this day. The impact was like a thunder-striking in my fresh soul. To say that it taught me how to “think outside the box” would not be a correct expression. It showed me how I could live my life free from the grip of conventional thinking, later proven to be patriarchal thinking. Now I can say that the main idea of The Zhuangzi is Matriversalism. Alleged to have been written in the fourth century BCE, The Zhuangzi has drawn fame of all times. Taken together with Chinese sources of Magu (Mago) housed in Daoism, I am confident in saying that The Zhuangzi’s fame was there because it carried an old memory of Ceto-Magoism.
Old Korean Magoism remains disguised or mislabeled/relabeled as Daoist.[6] Nonetheless, that was not enough for me to recognize The Zhuangzi as a matriversalist text.[7] I did have the language or words to articulate matriversal thought. In fact, I had attempted to explain my favorite passages of The Zhuangzi to Mary Daly, the radical feminist thinker, with whom I stayed close from the early 1990s to 2009.[8]Only after I resettled Magoism as Ceto-Magoism, did I begin to see the ancient texts of Korea and East Asia in a new light. A few months ago, I intuited that the particular passages of The Zhuangzi, which used to capture my fascination, concerns the Ceto-Magoist matriversal worldview. The Zhuangzi’s passages concerning the giant fish and the giant bird suggest that Old Korean Ceto-Magoist thought continued to appeal to the seeking mind throughout the fourth century BCE in East Asia.
The Zhuangzi treats not just the topic of a whale as the giant fish but the link between whales and the dragon as the giant bird. Further, it unveils the Ceto-Magoist perspective, inferably esoteric at that time. To begin with, the following paragraphs are especially telling of the themes of whales and the dragon:
In the northern deep sea, there is a fish whose name is Gon[9]. Gon is so huge that no one knows how many thousand li it measures. It transforms and becomes a bird whose name is Bung. Concerning the back of Bung[10], no one knows how many thousand li it measures. When Bung is in full flight, its wings look like the clouds hanging in the sky. When the sea begins to move, the bird migrates to the southern deep sea, which is the Heavenly Lake.
The Jehae records weird matters. It reads: “When Bung migrates to the southern deep sea, the water surges to three thousand li high. Riding the waterspout, it soars to the top of ninety thousand li. After a six-month flight, it finally takes a rest. The haze and the dust rising in the air are the phenomena caused by the intermixed breaths blown from the living beings. The sky looks blue and blue. Is that because the sky is really blue? Or is it because the sky is far without an end? When Bung looks down, it will see the same blue.[11]
The language appears metaphoric and poetic without the context of Ceto-Magoism. The presence of the whale and the dragon are tantalizing, although their names are disguised. The literary device that the giant fish, Gon, transforms to the giant bird, Bung, is there to suggest the cosmogenic singing of whales and its planetary influence on the environment, which is anciently perceived as a dragon. Also, the giant fish and the giant bird in their actions speak for matriversalism, the totalizing view of the Matriverse. For the Giant (the giant fish and the giant bird), the northern deep sea and the southern deep sea are only the two “puddles” of the planetary water.
The Heavenly Lake, equated with the southern deep sea, is a code for Ceto-Magoism. Also known as the Lake of Magu in the Chinese Daoist context, the Heavenly Lake has the story of Magu (Mago in Chinese pronunciation). Located on Mt. Qingcheng, today’s Sichuan China, the Lake of Magu is told that Magu drew water from the Lake of Magu to make the elixir.[12] In fact, the Heavenly Lake is a placename originally referring to the primordial spring well that the Earth provided “milk.” The Budoji states, “10The earth-milk began to spring up in the middle of the [Mago] Stronghold. 11Two Huis [Mago’s two daughters] also bore four Heavenly Beings and four Heavenly Women and raised them with earth-milk.”[13] Although this mythic spring became defunct in the wake of the first colossal catastrophe,[14] its mythos comes alive as the Heavenly Lake in Mt. Taebaek (Great Resplendence) wherein Goma descended in the Korean foundation myth. The Budoji mentions the Heavenly Lake (天池 cheonji) on Mt. Taebaek (Mt. Taibai in Chinese) as the reification of the primordial milk spring.[15]
As a placename, the Heavenly Lake is found across the Korean peninsula and the subcontinent of East Asia. The most noted ones are one in Mt. Baekdu of today’s North Korea and China, one on Mt. Taebaek (Taibai in Chinese) in today’s Shaanxi China, and one is on Back Mt. Qingcheong in today’s Sichuan China. The Heavenly Lake on Mt. Baekdu is rife with folkloric insights. It is known for many names including “Yongwang-dam (龍王潭 Pond of the Dragon Ruler),” “Daetaek (大澤 the Great Marsh Lake),” and “Daeji (the Great Lake),” “Haean (海眼 the Great Eye),” the last which is given because it is connected with the Big Sea.[16] In short, the Heavenly Lake has become the memory carrier of the Ceto-Magoist consciousness among East Asians.
The whale/dragon tie became esoteric in the time when the Zhuangzi was written.[17] The giant bird Bung is a euphemism for the dragon given the passage: “When Bung migrates to the southern deep sea, the water is surged the three thousand li high. Riding the waterspout, it soars to the top of ninety thousand li.” Traditionally, the dragon is characterized for its ascension to the sky from the bodies of water in the land. The dragon not only ascends through waterspouts or strong winds but also it carries the rider, normally mother deities, like the horse. In that sense, the dragon is referred to as the dragon horse. The topic of a dragon in the Ceto-Magoist context is too complex and immense to discuss here. Briefly, the Korean words, “yong 龍” or “mir 미르,” both of which mean a dragon, are associated with the waterspout, yongoreum (용오름 the rise of a dragon), in Korean. The literary and pictorial theme of the Dragon Palace Mother (용궁부인 Yonggung Buin) refers to the divine mother riding the back of a dragon. Also the word, mirinae (미리내 the River of the Dragon) or yongcheon (龍川 the Stream of the Dragon), refers to the Milky Way. Note that Ceto-Magoist ancestors projected the terrestrial realm onto the celestial realm and named the Milky Way the River of the Dragon. Summarily, the meteorological phenomenon and the celestial landscape are expressed as the flight of a dragon, symbolizing the cosmogenic singing of cetaceans. The medium is water in the air evaporated from the sea, as the giant fish swims in the ocean. And lifeforms proliferate where water is.
The above passages are not only indicative of the Ceto-Magoist topos of whales (the giant fish) and dragons (the giant bird) but also the Ceto-Magoist worldview. The depiction of the giant bird’s flight climaxes the matriversal worldview: “When Bung is in full flight, its wings look like the clouds hanging in the sky. When the sea begins to move, the bird migrates to the southern deep sea, which is the Heavenly Lake.” Bung, in place of the dragon, is a literary prop to describe the meteorological phenomenon, “clouds hanging in the sky.” The land affair is intermixed with the sky affair. The giant bird soars, as the sea below is whirled by the giant fish, whales. And those in between the above and the below are activated by “the haze and the dust” in the air. The haze and the dust carry sonic resonances emitted by the living beings. In the Coto-Magoist cosmology, the process of genesis begins as the sonic resonance gets intermixed with the Cosmic Music. According to The Budoji, “1As the cycle of Latter Heaven unfolded, Yulryeo (Rhythms and Tones) revived once again. 2Soon Hyangsang (Resonance Phenomenon) was formed. And resonance and music intermixed.” [18] The “intermixed breaths blown from the living beings” appears a poetic expression to indicate the terrestrial sonic resonance in harmony with the Cosmic Music.
The matriversal perspective is not haphazard but pivotal in Zhuangzi’s thought. The Zhuangzi continues as follows:
If water is not deep enough, it has no force to launch a big ship. For example, a cup of water poured on the ground can only launch a boat made of a mustard seed. When a cup is placed on it, it can’t float but sinks to the bottom. A shallow water can’t float the boat. Likewise, if the wind is not wide enough, the great Bung can’t fly with its open wings. Only when the wind of nine thousand li blows under its wings, it can ride the wind. Shouldering the blue sky with the clear sight, it can take a flight to the south.[19]
The above may appear as a parable of water and a ship. Insofar as the mytho-history of Old Korean Ceto-Magoism remains unnamed, Zhuangzi’s thought continues to be taken as a moral lesson. From the intercosmic perspective of Ceto-Magoism, it is indicative of the matriversal worldview. The deep ocean where whales inhabit can float a mega-sized ship. Whales generate fog, winds, and storms, which carry water into the air. Cetaceans in the deep sea are capable of raising the wind of nine thousand li, wide and strong enough to circulate planetary water. The planetary environment is set and equilibrated, thanks to the singing of whales in the sea. Winds and rains are circulated to nourish all lifeforms on the planet. The Cetacean Divine is revealed.
The Zhuangzi goes on to write:
Not only the Jehae but also the words that Tang of Yin heard from Geuk are similar: “There is a deep sea in the northern wilderness that has no plants or trees. That is the Heavenly Lake. There is a fish which is a few thousand li in width and no one knows exactly how long it measures. Its name is Gon. There is a bird there whose name is Bung. Its back is tantamount to Mt. Tae and its open wings to the clouds hanging in the sky. Bung rides the waterspout and turns like the spiraling horn of a lamb, flying to the top of nine thousand li. Soaring through the clouds and shouldering the blue sky, it directs to the south and takes flight to the southern sea.
A little bird mocks and says: “Where on the earth it heads to? I take a full flight to the height of a few gil only to descend to fly through the field of reeds. This is the highest point where my flight reaches. Where on earth does that head to?”[20]
The above first paragraph is almost identical with the previous passages with the exception of the location of the Heavenly Lake. It suggests the existence of the Heavenly Lake, a body of water, in Antarctica. Emperor Tang of the Yin dynasty (r. 1600-1589 BCE) was informed of the matriversal worldview. The second paragraph conveys that the matriversal perspective (the giant bird) comes as incomprehensible for the patriarchal mind (the little bird).
Ceto-Magoism and the Second-Wave Feminism
Creatrix Studies rooted in Ceto-Magoism unveils the indigenous and etiological ontology of Old Koreans, the One Mother People of the Earth. The word, “Goddess,” is epistemologically inappropriate for Mago, the Cosmic Mother and the Creatrix, because “Goddess” is derivative of “God.” In Ceto-Magoism, there is no supreme creator God to oppress the Creatrix. S/HE is alone supreme. Unlike “Goddesses” incorporated into patriarchal religions and mythologies, Mago entails matri-cosmology and the mytho-history of Old Korea. Women represent the Cosmic Mother who in turn represents the Cosmic Music, the cosmogenic force of the Matriverse. The Korean word “Halmi” (할미 the Great Mother or the Grandmother) means the female deity and a crone at the same time. Further, archaic Ceto-Magoist Mudangs (Korean female shamans) were the delegates of the Creatrix. Mudangs (Korean shamans) are predominantly female to this day. Men who become baksu (male shamans) are called “the divine son” of his mother mudang. It is commonly known that male mudangs perform gut (rituals of Korean Muism) by way of characterizing themselves as female, wearing female shaman attire and speaking in a female voice.[21] Both the female and the male are treated as the progeny of Mago. In Ceto-Magoist cosmology, ALL in the form of male, female, and intersexes are deemed kindred. Diversity is embraced in intercosmic unity.
How is Creatrix Studies different from feminist spirituality and Goddess Studies? It is true that Creatrix Studies has grown out of the two fields. Characterized by matri-cosmology, Creatrix Studies guides feminist spirituality to its destination, empowerment of women and sanctification of the female divine from the oppression of patriarchal religions. First of all, Creatrix Studies elevates the human mother as an embodiment of the Creatrix. Secondly, Creatrix Studies stands independently of patriarchal religions and mythologies. Further, it defines the latter as derivative and reductionist in nature. Thirdly, Creatrix Studies serves an encompassing matrix by drawing from matriversalism originated in the pre-patriarchal past. Creatrix Studies is built on the matriversal worldview expressed in ancient Korean/East Asian philosophies. In it, dormant perspectives are relativized. Decentering Eurocentrism, it debilitates such patriarchal propagandas as racism, ethnocentrism, and anthropocentrism. I present Creatrix Studies as an unfolding foundation for feminist spirituality and Goddess Studies, both of which rose under the rubric of second-wave feminism in the late twentieth century of the West and spread to the world thereafter. Creatrix Studies brings a yet new perspective to them: matriversalism, the one perspective that current academia lacks. Creatrix Studies stands on the border between academia and reality.
(To be continued)
[1] I am reminded of the children’s full-length literature that I read at age 8, Jindalae-wa-Cheoljjuk (진달래와 철쭉 The Azalea and Royal Azalea) by Sochun Kang, (Seoul: Digest Publishing, 1953). It was a book imbued with the Korean ethos, imagination, magical fantasy, life’s ordeal, reward, adventure, bravery, and tenacity. As a child, my soul was captivated with its imaginary reality. As I reread the story while writing this essay, I am still taken to its captivating story lines, expressions, and companionship with animals and brotherhood.
[2] I was entrusted to her care during my infant years and later visited her, after being separated from her, in her farming village during school breaks throughout the years of my early teens. I wrote and mailed weekly letters to my grandmother for a period of several months or a year until she came to live with us in Seoul when I was about 13. That paved my inner landscape as a writer, in retrospect. My maternal grandmother remains latent because of the Confucian custom that the married couple lived with the husband’s family. As I began to develop a new bond with my mother in my late fifties, I discovered the influence of my matrilineal heritage, which came through my mother.
[3] For Haehok Bokbon (Removing Delusion and Restoring Origin), see The Budoji 10:2 (Appendix A); 12:17; 26:4.
[4] My maternal great-grandfather was a great scholar of the time whose intelligence manifested as his social work for others under the Japanese colonial rule. My father was also a man of intelligence and sensibility.
[5] The Budoji 4:1-4 (Appendix A).
[6] I wrote two chapters introducing and decoding the Magoist Code shrouded in Daoism in my dissertation. Hwang, “Seeking Mago,” Chapters 10-11.
[7] I consider Tao Te Ching and Liezi in the same category of The Zhuangzi. See Hwang, “Seeking Mago,” Chapters 10 and 11.
[8] I was not successful in conveying to Mary Daly about The Zhuangzi’s transcendental (now I call it matriversal) thought. I did not have the language and the concept of the Ceto-Magoist worldview. Magoism itself was not sufficient to describe it.
[9] Gon is the Korean pronunciation of the character,鯤 (the head of the marine life or fish, kun in Chinese). The logographic word, gon, is a compound with eo (魚 fish) and gon (昆 the head or elder). It is speculated that gon may have been a replacement of gyeong (鯨 a whale or cetacean), given that bung is associated with bong (a phoenix). See the next note on bung.
[10] Bung is the Korean pronunciation of the character, bung 鵬 (the giant bird, peng in Chinese). It is noted that bung is related to bong (鳳, a phoenix, feng in Chinese). See Wang, Li (王力) (1982), Dictionary of Word Families (同源字典), Beijing: Commercial Press, 318, cited in Schuessler, Axel (2007), ABC Etymological Dictionary of Old Chinese, Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press. 239, accessed on May 7, 2026. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Peng_(mythology).
[11] My translation. The English translation of the Zhuanzi is best known as Watson, Burton, tr., The Complete Works of Chuang Tzu, Columbia University Press, 1968). For the original logographic text and its Korean translation, see Appendix C.
[12] Hwang, “Seeking Mago,”343-4. Also see Hwang, “Mago,” 7.
[13] The Budoji 2:10-11.
[14] The Budoji 8.
[15] The Budoji 14: 3.
[16] Often a lake or a fall on a mountain is associated with the dragon in Korea. Sundry sources refer to the Heavenly Lake on Mt. Baekdu as the Great Swamp Lake and the Great Lake. “Heavenly Lake” in Encyclopedia of Korean Culture, accessed on May 12, 2026. https://encykorea.aks.ac.kr/Article/E0056039.
[17] The Zhuangzi is alleged to have been written in the 4th century BCE and amended in the following centuries.
[18] The Budoji Chapter 3:1-2 (Appendix A).
[19] My translation. Seonggi Hong, The Zhuangzi/Zhuang Zhou, accessed May 20, http://classic.ajou.ac.kr/SEA/201302/D009D9EB396B126.pdf. For the original logographic text and its Korean translation, see Appendix C.
[20] Ibid.
[21] Gilseong Choe, “Baksu,” Encyclopedia of Korean Culture, accessed on May 28, 2026,
https://encykorea.aks.ac.kr/Article/E0020830.
This imaginative essay demonstrates the workings of one mythos out of thousands – one way – not the way