Global literature can have multiple meanings depending on who is asked. It could refer to literature from any nation that has entered the global zeitgeist. For example: somewhere out there, a Korean reader was, or perhaps is, heavily invested in the lore of Fifty Shades of Grey or Goosebumps. Or global literature could also refer to literature that does not center around the American or English-speaking narratives. Be gone, JK Rowling! Here comes Sahar Khalifeh. In this definition, we replace King with Kafka and Melville with Murakami in order to understand more than a singular viewpoint of the human experience.

The importance of the secondary definition of global literature is that it allows for readers to understand the culture and perspective of the other 193 countries on the planet besides England and the United States. In some cases, other countries’ circumstances are directly or partially due to these two countries, and thus they would be impossible to analyze from an American or English point of view. Oppressors do not tend to understand the oppressed. While history is written by the victors, it is best understood by the vanquished. In Asia, for instance, the United States didn’t directly affect Korea or China for a large portion of their histories. It did, however, for the first time, give Japan a sampling of what these two nations had been going through for centuries.

  This paper seeks to analyze how Japan’s, China’s and Korea’s intertwined history affected literature of these three nations during the first half of the 20^th century (1910-1950). The literature to be analyzed are “Diary of a Madman” by Lu Xun, “My Innocent Uncle” by Ch’ae Man-Sik and No Longer Human by Osamu Dazai. While fairly different in content, these stories all share common themes such as format and various motifs that fairly portray their interwoven histories, as well as reflect the times in which they were written.

  For the duration of this paper, Historicism theory will serve as the primary framework for which these three pieces will be analyzed. Literary theories such as Psychoanalytic, Postcolonial or Cultural would also be apt choices for the analysis of these pieces. That being said, due to the entrenched nature of these three countries, it would be disingenuous to ignore their interconnectivity. It would also do these works a great disservice to ignore what it is that their authors experienced, as well as how the times in which these pieces were penned were directly affected, and were affecting, the societies of this time.

  Historicism seeks to bridge this gap, as it is a literary theory analyzing, not an individual, but the time and society in which the author wrote. Christopher Hill stated such when he said “the great tragedians and the metaphysical poets–whatever they may have thought themselves–are not dealing with ‘the human condition’, with ‘man,’ but with specific problems which confronted rulers and their subjects in a specific historical situation.” (Hill). So, while these pieces are timeless, they were, in fact, affected by the occurrences of a specific time. Stories are created by authors, and authors are created by their history.

         To understand the context of these stories it is pertinent to understand the history of the nations from whence they came. These three stories span the years 1918 (“Diary of a Madman”), 1938 (“My Innocent Uncle”) and 1948 (No Longer Human); so the rough time frame of the shared history to be analyzed is 1910-1950. The one exception will be the discussion of American influence before and during this time period on Japan, as it served as a direct influence, and consequence, of their behavior during this time. During this period in Asia, these three nations had a very interconnected history due to Japan’s colonization and, later, occupation of these nations. This specific period was fraught with political, social and technological changes in the East.

  These three pieces cannot be fully understood without historical context. These nations are neighbors and, not unlike their European counterparts, there were various groups from China and Japan that would attack each other (Wang). Unfortunately for Korea, they were often under attack from both sides and seldom, if ever, instigated the various battles and wars. Though the premise to the exchange of power in the 20^th Century was largely in part due to the United States’ influence on Japan.

         In 1854, Commodore Matthew C. Perry under the command of President Fillmore sailed to Japan with a small fleet of heavily armed battleships to have a “peaceful” talk about Japan opening its ports for trade. Japan had just undergone extreme political upheaval themselves, having switched from the feudalistic Shogunate model to a more monarchical form of governing (Horie). They were in no place to stand up to the heavily industrializing nation, and thus they acquiesced. Thus marked the beginning of the Meiji Restoration within the Meiji Period. 

During this time, Japan took note of how Western countries were amassing and maintaining power. They also borrowed and shared technological advances and philosophies that they then incorporated and molded to fit their society. One of those philosophies being how to amass power over their long-time enemy: China.

         The Qing Dynasty was in effect from 1644-1911 and was one of the largest Chinese dynasties in territory size. In 1911, or 1912 depending (Jones), the Xinhai Revolution overthrew the current regime, and Emperor Puyi, the last emperor of the Qing Dynasty, abdicated his throne. This marked the official end of the last dynasty of China, and the beginning of the Republic of China.

         As evidenced in other nations, like France, the United States and Brazil, abolishing and overthrowing a monarchy can send the populace into a bit of a conundrum. After one has achieved their goal…what comes next? The Chinese government experienced this exact dilemma. After the Qing Dynasty came to an end, China was ruled by a one-party nation—which is to say, another form of monarchy (Yu). After continued in-fighting and rebellion, their political situation changed once again to be more Communist leaning in 1949/1950 (Yu).

         During this period of political upheaval caused by the Qing Dynasty, Japan attempted a takeover of Korea…again. Conquering Korea, from the imperialist perspective, was their best chance at gaining a foothold into modern day China—which had been their end goal for centuries. It wasn’t Korea itself that was imperative to Japan’s goal, it was the metaphor of what Korea stood for to China; Korea was one of the last vestiges of their dynasties’ political and military power, and it was that embodiment that Japan was after. Japan battled China in the 1890’s to attain Korea, and later fully annexed them in 1910 (Iyenaga). All in all, their history is a bloody one and is reflected and imperative to understanding the literature of this time.

  The framing of these pieces is both intentional and necessary to serve their essential functions. All three of these pieces are fictional diaries or diaries adjacent. For “Diary of a Madman”, the diary format offers the Madman an outlet to voice his thoughts, as the other characters in the story hold his words with the same weight that one might hold a toddler’s fumbled phrases. In the Norton Anthology edition of this story, it is broken up into 13 parts , and flips between past, present and future constantly (Xun). This flip between past and present is one of the many ways that the Madman narrator establishes his condition (Field), as well as establishes that he is an unreliable narrator; readers must take his words with a grain of salt. (That’s not a cannibal, that’s my brother!)

Breaking the story into thirteen pieces itself is incredibly symbolic. The number itself is considered, in multiple countries including China, coincidentally, to be incredibly unlucky. It is also the number of classics in Confucianism–the dominant philosophical structure at this time in China. Confucianism, and the symbolism of it, will be discussed later.

  Dazai’s No Longer Human rendition of a fictional diary is deeply intentional, as this was his final piece before commiting suicide. It is arguable that this novel served as his suicide note. Dazai had difficulty reconciling with a world that was modernizing too quickly (Brudnoy). Both Dazai and the main character of No Longer Human, Yozo, had the foreboding feeling that they were unfit for human existence and thus ended their lives. The guise of a fictional diary allowed Dazai to put his own raw words in Yozo’s mouth and paint it as fiction (Brudnoy). So not only is it an honest depiction of Yozo, but it is also an honest insight of Osamu Dazai’s experience in a nation going through such a dramatic fluctuation of power. After all, this piece was published only a few years after the official end of World War II. Between the ports being forced open in 1854 and the end of World War II, the Japanese people experienced: four eras, the Japanese occupation of Korea and Taiwan, a severe change in political structure, extreme technological advancement, World War I, enslavement and trafficking of Korean women (also called comfort women) and the atomic bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki to name only a few events that occurred during this period.

  Osamu Dazai was alive for most of these events. His personal history aside, it stands to reason that these extreme societal changes are why his opus took the form of a diary. After all, the world around him was changing at breakneck speed and, as evidenced in No Longer Human, discussing his problems, fears and concerns with another person would be absolutely faux pas. As Yozo portrays, it was much more acceptable to drown his feelings in alcohol and diary writing than it was to rely on his friends and partners.

  These two aforementioned pieces by Lu Xun and Osamu Dazai are fictional stories written explicitly under the guise of a diary. “Diary of a Madman” uses exact  dates such as “Recorded this 2^nd day in the 7^th year of the Republic” (Xun). Xun also drops little chronological clues as to what times in history he is referencing/disguising through the mention of specific passages of time such as “twenty years ago” and “Moonlight’s really nice tonight. Haven’t seen it in over thirty years” (Xun). Given that the story starts with an explicit date, the reader can then pinpoint specific dates/years that Xun was attempting to discuss through metaphor and allusion.

  Where Xun is explicit, Dazai is less so. The lead character, Yozo, does not mention any specific dates–though time is more structured in the epilogue. The only acknowledgment in the actual diaries of time passing are the “chapters” themselves; though he does not call them chapters. Instead these chapters are referred to as “notebooks”. This choice of words leads the reader to believe that the passage of time is marked by how quickly Yozo can fill a notebook with his thoughts and feelings. Time passes because Yozo writes about it.

The specific way that Yozo, or presumably the outside reader mentioned in the Epilogue, formatted the diary into “notebooks” is also incredibly telling. While there are only three notebooks, the third notebook is broken up into two parts to create two separate chapters. Three in Japan is the age in which boys start to participate in Shichi-Go-San, which is a right of passage centered around growth. Four, sometimes pronounced “shi” in Japanese, is an extremely unlucky number because it is also the word for death. It seems almost too coincidental that a story, that could have very well remained in three parts, was instead separated into four when both Yozo, and later Dazai, committed suicide.

In No Longer Human, an outsider reading Yozo’s journal is included in the Epilogue. Placing the outside readership in the epilogue provides the text two things: chronological context and affirmation of Yozo’s experience. It isn’t until the end of the novel that readers discover that, “The events described in the notebooks seem to relate mainly to the Tokyo of 1930 or so.” (Dazai). This timestamp brings things into perspective. After all, this little throw away sentence could have been completely omitted, and this piece could have been timeless. This could be just a story about a sad man and his sad life. The inclusion of this timestamp, however, serves as affirmation of Yozo’s experience, as “The 1930s were a decade of fear in Japan, characterized by the resurgence of right-wing patriotism, the weakening of democratic forces, domestic terrorist violence (including an assassination attempt on the emperor in 1932), and stepped-up military aggression abroad.” (US National Archives). Of course Yozo felt as though he was no longer human. He had been living in a state of volatility, war, fear and trauma for a vast majority of his lifespan. Not to mention the heinous atrocities that Japan inflicted on Korea during Dazai’s lifetime and for generations before. 

Before discussing “My Innocent Uncle”, there is an important thing to note about Xun’s and Dazai’s works. Both works make reference to another person reading their stories. In the opening of “Diary of a Madman” it is explicitly stated that a childhood friend is reading the “mad” brother’s journal. The placement of outsider viewership is the key. In “Diary of a Madman”, the childhood friend states, “By now, however, he [the Madman] had long since become sound and fit again; in fact he had already repaired to other parts to await a substantive official appointment.” (Xun). Xun’s inclusion of outside viewership at the beginning of the story not only informs the reader of the specific dates with which they should analyze the story, but also provides a nod to China’s fraught political history at this time. It expresses that the Madman is no longer experiencing madness. He is cured and is back into the oneness that was Confucianist Chinese society at this time. 

  The third story to analyze, “My Innocent Uncle”, is a short story written by Ch’ae Man-Sik. It follows the dialogue between the Nephew and the Uncle who has married into the family, in which the Nephew reprimands the radical Uncle for not being more like him. The format for this story is a little harder to pin down. It stands to reason that this was intentional.

  On one hand, the entire story reads as the Nephew character ranting about and recounting his, presumably, most recent interaction with his Uncle—which is written utilizing the first person format and could indicate that this short story is a diary entry. On the other hand, this piece could serve, not as a diary, but as the Nephew monologuing to someone about his and his Uncle’s interaction. There is, however, no mention of a third speaking party mentioned in this story, so the odds of that seem slim. This lack of mentioning a tertiary listener thus becomes a conundrum, because the Nephew also explicitly says, “Stories written by Chosŏn people put me to sleep.” (Ch’ae). The phrasing of this story, as evidenced above, makes it clear that the Nephew is speaking to someone; though this “someone” isn’t the Uncle, and it isn’t a diary, so it has to be something in between.

  This third space that exists in this middle between the two is closest to that of an aside. “The key difference is who the speech is intended for. In a monologue, the character is speaking to another character or to the audience. In a soliloquy, the character is speaking to themselves, and in an aside, the character is speaking directly to the audience, but not to other characters on stage.” (Sellars and Edwards). So, based on definition, this piece isn’t a soliloquy. Between the remaining two potentials, the aside seems most apt, as while he is talking to both the audience and his Uncle, he does not voice to the Uncle all of his thoughts on Chosŏn culture or the Uncle out loud. He does, however, openly express his feelings to the audience. And if this is an aside, the “play” from which this aside stems is the very real occupation of Korea by Japan from 1910 until 1945. Considering that Ch’ae was also a playwright as well as a satirist lends some credibility. Formatting this short story as an aside served as a clever way to prevent censorship (Cohen). It also provides an inside and outside view of how youth in Korea struggled with their identities as both Korean people and people living under Japanese colonialism. 

  This then begs the question of content. These three pieces are all vastly different—which makes sense as, even though they are interconnected, these three authors were from three very different countries experiencing different struggles. These struggles, caused by their interconnectedness, are most evident in the contexts of metaphor and translation.

         “Diary of a Madman” is a conflicting Modernist Chinese tale about a madman who views his fellow friends, villagers and family as cannibals told through the lens of a diary documenting his descent through, and later ascension from, insanity. The story itself makes mentions to 1888 all the way until the 7th year of the Republic (Xun). This puts the story’s end date, when the unnamed family friend reads the Madman’s diary, on April 2^nd, 1918 (Xun). This story is objectively political as confirmed by the author (Wang), and is expressed in the metaphors of madness, the objection to Confucian virtues, and the subversion of Chinese individualism at this time.

         Given that this story is called “Diary of a Madman”, it makes sense that madness is at the forefront of this tale. An important thing to note lies within the translation of “madman” itself. After all, like many other languages, Traditional Chinese has two words for “madman”: One is “fengren” and the other is “kuangren”.

  The former refers to classical madness—the explosive episodes and fits of foaming insania that serve as the hallmark for mentally unwell people in literature (Tang). The latter, however, contains a little more nuance; as kuangren, “also characterizes talented individuals who contemptuously oppose themselves to a stagnant society and whose actions exceed the public’s comprehension.” (Tang). So even in the name, though imperceptible due to translation, there is a literal differentiation between madness and instead thinking against the popular opinion.

         To be fair, the Narrator does exhibit signs of an unstable mind. He is an unreliable narrator, he exhibits signs of extreme paranoia, and he is convinced that his compatriots are all cannibals hellbent on eating him and others. The Narrator, though unreliable and perhaps a bit mentally unstable, has a point.

I seemed to remember, though not too clearly, that from ancient times on people have often been eaten, and so I started leafing through a history book to look it up. There were no dates in this history, but scrawled this way and that across every page were the words BENEVOLENCE, RIGHTEOUSNESS, and MORALITY. Since I couldn’t get to sleep anyway, I read that history very carefully for most of the night, and finally I began to makeout what was written between the lines; the whole volume was filled with a single phrase: EAT PEOPLE!

         This passage serves as a direct warning through the guise of metaphor to not trust the Confucian and feudalistic upbringing that many Chinese people at this time were raised with. This theory seems apparent through Xun’s inclusions of “benevolence, righteousness and morality” (Xun) as these are actual tenets of Confucianist thinking (Lai). Referring back to the history surrounding the text, this piece was written after China lost Korea, after the fall of the Qing Dynasty, and after the Xinhai Uprising that ended in a similar government structure as well as extreme bloodshed. Their world was in chaos. The Narrator, from this perspective, isn’t fengren, but is instead, true to the original title, kuangren. He is here to insist that his brethren push back against their oh so familiar Confucianist philosophies that, in part, led to the issues Xun and other Chinese people experienced at this time and directly resulted in turmoil.

         “My Innocent Uncle” follows a very similar vein of thought. The threat from Ch’ae’s perspective, however, was in acceptance and assimilation. A hefty part of colonization is assimilation, in which one forgoes or suppresses their oppressed identity and adopts the culture and behaviors of their oppressors (Horvath). This is blatantly evident in the Nephew’s character. The Nephew recounts the Uncle saying,

Well . . . in this world there’s a structure. The emperors are at the top and the beggars are at the bottom and everybody lives according to his means. There’s nothing so disgusting as kissing up to someone for your livelihood, and going so far as to lose your individuality in the process. There’s nobody as pathetic as such a person. Why does a person need a second bowl of rice if the first one fills him up?

This serves as a direct analysis of the Nephew’s attempt at assimilation. After all, if one bowl of rice (Korean identity) fills someone up, why would they need a second (Japanese identity)?

There is also a translation issue here that reaffirms the Nephew’s belief about his Uncle and other “Scotchalists” (Ch’ae). While the name of the story is commonly believed to be “My Innocent Uncle”, the story can be, and has been, also translated as “My Idiot Uncle” (Ji-Moon). This translation adds yet another affirmation to the held belief of assimilation rather than fighting for a system that may or may not work but is nevertheless against Japanese imperialism. It also adds the extra layer of disrespect for the Uncle that only the audience is privy to, as it shows from the top that the Nephew believes he is either an idiot or too innocent to understand how the world actually works.

         Korea had, historically, been tossed around like a ragdoll. During this time, Japan, China and Russia had laid claim to them. During the World Wars, Korean women were used as “comfort women” or trafficked sex slaves. Millions of their people were drafted for a war that they had no part in. The only thing that they could claim with certainty was themselves—and both the Uncle, who is a man of principle but no conviction, and the Nephew, who is full of conviction but misguided assimilative principles, are complicit in their current circumstance. 

         While No Longer Human comes from the position of colonizer rather than colonized, it also shares some of the same motifs as “Diary of a Madman” and “My Innocent Uncle”. The story follows Yozo, a listless son of a politician who lives well and is well liked. His biggest problem is his unhappiness with himself, and the actions he takes as, seemingly, a form of self punishment.

The first shared motif is hunger. In “Diary of a Madman”, hunger is explored through cannibalism and willingness to eat your fellow man in order to thrive in China. In “My Innocent Uncle”, the Nephew is insistent on getting rid of everything Korean about himself, including cuisine, and replacing it with Japanese culture. In No Longer Human, the protagonist Yozo writes, “Again, I have never known what it means to be hungry. I don’t mean by this statement that I was raised in a well-to-do family—I have no such banal intent. I mean that I have had not the remotest idea of the nature of the sensation of “hunger.”” (Dazai). This direct metaphor of hunger in this text refers to having his basic needs met. Though Japan was recovering from World War II during the time that this piece was written, they were also experiencing what was known as the “Japanese Economic Miracle” (Gerstal and Goodman). The character himself was from a well-to-do political family. Yozo had all of his basic needs met, was living comfortably and, despite exhibiting signs of severe depression, didn’t experience any kind of hunger–physical or otherwise.

I have not the remotest clue what the nature or extent of my neighbor’s woes can be…if my neighbors manage to survive without killing themselves, without going mad, maintaining an interest in political parties, not yielding to despair, resolutely pursuing the fight for existence, can their griefs really be genuine?

         Yozo was unable to understand the plight of others around him. After all, he, “wanted once in my lifetime to know that great savage joy, no matter how immense the suffering that might ensue.” (Dazai). He didn’t care what it cost others, he wanted to be happy. Because, during this time in history, the only problems he, and Japan, had were the ones that were self inflicted. This directly showcases Japan’s behaviors and thoughts of China and Korea at the time this piece was published; they wouldn’t understand the consequences until, unfortunately, the US criminally intervened in World War II.

         Japan, up until this point in time, had typically been in control of their own affairs. They weren’t colonized per se, but they were under heavy influence of the United States as a result of their involvement in World War II. While the US had had some influence on Japanese modernization, the occupation of Japan after World War II was on an entirely different level of influence than what they had prior experienced. Of course Dazai wouldn’t understand the hunger of other Asian countries. But what he did understand was their lack of stability and sense of self due to occupation of an outside force.

Just like the other nations, this story also has some translation equivalents. The specific source utilized refers to the book as No Longer Human. This translation, however, as noted in the book can also mean “Disqualified as a Human Being” (Dazai). Both titles are incredibly powerful, invoking a desperate loss and desire for humanity and all that being so includes. The use of the word “disqualified”, however, invokes a feeling of having done something faux pas but forgivable; where as No Longer Human invokes the idea that instead of a human, these people must be instead the basis of monstrous stories told to children to dissuade them from misbehaving. 

         All in all, the metaphors and positions during or post occupation are what makes these pieces reflective of the times that they were written in. Lu Xun was a pivotal member of the New Culture Movement that revolutionized China’s politics. He wrote of people who were beginning to veer from their past history, and he did so through metaphors of cannibalism and lunacy. Ch’ae Man-Sik was a playwright and satirist who worked against the censors of occupied Korea. He recognized that humor was the best way to reach people and disguise messages of forward and free thinking. He did so through metaphors of assimilation and dialogue. Osamu Dazai was a man in a position of privilege who couldn’t keep up with how his world was changing. He showcased this through metaphors of hunger and direct introspection. The actions that Yozo took were wrong and hurt many, but it is through human connection that we flourish. All three pieces showcase that the most difficult part of being human is, in fact, other humans, and, when we don’t bother to view other literature besides the classic American and British narratives, there is so much that gets lost in translation. 

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