[KS] charcoal in yeontans?

[Brother Anthony]

I think that the confusion comes from the etymology of 'tan' whether in yeontan (briquette) or seoktan (coal). The Chinese character 'tan' is (if anyone can read it online) '炭' which in Korea is identified as "숯 탄" (sut tan) where sut / 숯 is the Korean word meaning 'charcoal'. I think there is no doubt at all that the modern domestic briquette is and always has been made of anthracite and part of the confusion comes from a lot of Koreans (and perhaps others) not knowing what 'charcoal' is, how it is made, or how it differs from other forms of 'coal'. The internet is full of mentions of "charcoal yeontans" but that does not make for proof, being only a sign of fairly natural confusion. All technical descriptions specify that the briquette is made using anthracite.

In recent years the yeontan has become something of an endangered species, as described by the Korea Times in 2007 http://www.koreatimes.co.kr/www/news/biz/2011/04/123_11874.html (an article where the word 'charcoal' manages to creep in once despite its stress on the shortage of anthracite). One result is probably a large increase in the number of broken limbs on icy slopes in winter, since in the Good Old Days we used to thankfully crush used yeontans all the way down the hills when it snowed. The clouds of filthy dust that rose above Seoul in the wind after the ice and snow were gone were an unhappy by-product, as were the cases of black lung disease among people living close to the huge mounds of powdered coal in the yards of yeontan factories.

The nicest way of looking at yeontans is in a poem by An Do-Hyeon:

One coal briquette 

There are lots of other ways of putting it 
but it's as if  what we call life 
means becoming a coal briquette 
for someone other than myself. 

>From the day the floors first feel chilly till the following spring, 
the loveliest thing on all the roads of Korea 
is the briquette truck chugging 
its way up steep inclines with all its might. 
I eat piping hot rice and soup every day, 
but it's as if I had not realized that once the flame has caught hold, 
each briquette grows scorching hot, 
seeming to know just what's required of it. 
It's as if I have been unable to become a briquette for anyone so far 
because  I was afraid of the way, once love has caught fully hold 
all that remains is a sorry handful of ash.

On careful thought, 
it's as if what we call life 
is pulverising me 
in order to make a safe path where someone other than myself 
can walk at ease on slippery mornings after snow has fallen 
and I had failed to realize that. 

A final bit of nostalgia: it used to be such fun to get home late on a freezing evening and find that the yeontans in the stove had gone out because no one had been there to change them, so one had to start all over again and it took ages before they were properly lit and glowing. The young generations don't know what they have missed.

Brother Anthony
Sogang University etc