I am a literary giant in Japan

Chapter 510: The wine and meat of Zhumen are stinky, and the bones are frozen to death on the road

Yevgeny was very satisfied with his words and actions when facing Kitagawa Hideshi.

Upon receiving news that Kitagawa Hide was about to arrive in Tsarist Russia, the Russian literary world immediately split into two major factions.

One group, mainly composed of older generation writers, stubbornly believed that this young writer from Japan had come specifically to cause trouble.
One faction, led by Yevgeny and other new-generation writers, disregarded Kitagawa Hideaki's motives for coming to Tsarist Russia, but resolutely refused to bow to a foreign author on matters of literary creation.

Even writers from Tsarist Russia themselves haven't written novels about Tsarist Russia in the 1870s and 1880s yet, so how can a foreign author be allowed to beat them to it?
Yevgeny, who was chosen by a group of people, was the sharp sword that was bound to help the Russian literary world cut off Kitagawa Hideki's head!
Yevgeny was determined to compete with Kitagawa Hide on the same subject, which led to this conversation when the two met.

Kitagawa Hide's bewildered and indifferent reaction was completely contrary to Yevgeny's expectations.

Isn't it said that Japanese people love watching anime, and that they are all outwardly peaceful but inwardly just as passionate and fiery as the Russians?

"Uh, that's good."

Kitagawa Hideki was at a loss for how to respond to Yevgeny's sudden challenge.

If this were within Japan, and some ignorant writer challenged him, Kitagawa Hide would definitely respond directly, or instruct Kitagawa Bunko's public relations department to launch a strong counterattack.

Although it is said that "there is no first place in literature, but there is no second place in martial arts", if someone is already taking advantage of you and stepping on your head, and you still keep spouting these nonsense, it will only make people look down on you.

But that was a literary dispute within Japan.

Hideaki Kitagawa has the confidence, the stance, and the reasons to respond to the challenger.

But now he's in Tsarist Russia. Putting aside the fact that he has no intention of coming to their territory alone to show off his power, just the fact that he's surrounded by a group of burly Tsarist Russians makes it hard for anyone to respond forcefully.

Kitagawa Hide's somewhat perfunctory and helpless reply made the veins on Yevgeny's forehead throb.

He wasn't just a reckless fool; he had actually investigated Kitagawa Hide's personality and character before he came.

The information he obtained clearly stated that Kitagawa Hide was a very good-tempered person when his fundamental interests were not threatened, but once his bottom line was crossed, he would immediately reveal his terrifying fangs, making him far more formidable than those blustering but cowardly intellectuals.

Yevgeny did not want to defeat an innocent little lamb, because that would not demonstrate his greatness, but would instead make people think he was bullying the weak.

He wanted to defeat Kitagawa Hide, who was at his peak and had revealed his sharp fangs.

Only then can one feel a sufficient sense of accomplishment and be worthy of showing off to those old fogies in the literary world.

To force Kitagawa Hide to reveal that form, one must subtly cross his bottom line.

As a literary leader who can represent the country, he must value his reputation and prestige highly. If someone challenges his position to his face, it will inevitably cause him great discomfort.

This is what Yevgeny believed could ignite Kitagawa Hide's fighting spirit and anger.

I didn't expect that even though the challenge of being a chuunibyou (a person with delusions of grandeur) was explained so clearly, Kitagawa Hide was still pretending to be stupid.

Or rather, what Yevgeny thought he would value, he seemed to completely disregard.
The two remained frozen in place.

The group of Russian writers who had surrounded Kitagawa Xiutuan were also stunned.

This reaction is strange!
This is completely unlike the behavior expected of a national literary leader!

Could it be that I recognized the wrong person?

After a few more minutes of this stalemate, Yevgeny finally couldn't hold back any longer. He coughed a few times and said awkwardly to Kitagawa Hide, "Anyway, since you've come to Moscow, we should...we should act as your hosts."

"Hospitality as a host?" Kitagawa Hide was surprised that Yevgeny also knew about the culture next door.

The two spoke in English because in earlier years many translators tried to translate literary works and folk tales from the neighboring country into English, so many idioms and proverbs also have their own English translations.

One of the more famous examples is Pearl S. Buck's translation of "All Men Are Brothers".

The English phrase translates to "All men are brothers within the four seas," which is the English title of one of the Four Great Classical Novels, *Water Margin*.

Phrases like "to do our best as a host" are also among the cultural expressions that translators love to translate abroad because they are short, easy to understand, and convenient for cultural export.

“Oh, yes, yes, that’s it, to show some hospitality.” When Yevgeny was doing research on ancient literature at the Pushkin House, he also liked to take some time to look at the literary works of that great Eastern country.

After all, Chinese is recognized as one of the most difficult languages. Its ever-changing meanings and words have given rise to a variety of interesting cultural knowledge. Once you have some understanding of it, it is hard for people in the literary industry to resist its charm.

He never expected that Japan, a country that has historically had a strained relationship with the great Eastern power, would have a writer with such profound knowledge of Chinese culture, which instantly elevated his perception of Kitagawa Hide.

“Then I’ll have to trouble you, Mr. Yevgeny.” Kitagawa Hide bowed slightly, then shook hands with him with a flourish.

After leaving Japan, Kitagawa Hide no longer needed to constantly remind himself to bow and greet people with a smile.

He found these aspects of Japanese culture quite novel and interesting when watching Japanese dramas and anime, but if he had to keep them in mind in his daily life, the novelty would turn into suffering.

It is said that an average Japanese person bows 65 times a day, and as they get older, things like herniated discs are common.

And then there's that signature fake smile. If you smile too much, you'll slowly forget how to smile naturally. Every time you want to laugh, your muscle memory will make you fake a smile first.

This is fine in Japan, since everyone is the same and nobody cares about anyone else.

Overseas, however, the Japanese people's signature fake smile, like their bowing apology, lacks any credibility and only makes others feel that it is particularly perfunctory.

Kitagawa Hide's skillful handshake and various small habits unique to East Asians further increased Yevgeny's positive impression of him.

A large group of people left Moscow International Airport in a grand procession. Before getting into their car, Kitagawa Hide took a picture and sent it to Saito Rena via MMS, reminding her to call the police if he didn't contact her that night!

Of course, this was just in case. Kitagawa Hide believed that Yevgeny and his fellow Russian writers would still have the proper manners and wouldn't resort to kidnapping or murder.

After getting into the car, Yevgeny took the opportunity to chat with him about literature.

It's clear that Yevgeny came prepared for his new book.

However, perhaps feeling that asking about the strictly confidential contents of a new book right off the bat would seem too insecure and impatient, Yevgeny began by discussing the origins and recent developments of Russian literature with Kitagawa Hide, sharing their views on the subject. "I wholeheartedly agree that Russian literature originated in the late 10th and early 11th centuries, after Kievan Rus' adopted Christianity as the state religion in 988."

However, I personally believe that until the early 12th century, Tsarist Russia was plagued by internal and external troubles, which severely hampered the development of literature. The literary works of that century were mostly political works that blended religion and history, and thus failed to reach the pinnacle of literary achievement.

Kitagawa Hide generously shared his insights on Russian literature from both lifetimes with Yevgeny.

Yevgeny believed that Russian literature could not be said to have completely declined during that century, but as Kitagawa Hide said, the literary works of that period were more like political essays written to please the monarch and the nobles, and there was really nothing to praise.

He was speechless at Kitagawa Hide's words.

Even though he was a proper scholar studying ancient Russian literature, he felt like a novice college student again after talking with this young writer.

Yevgeny chose to start with the ancient Russian literature, which he knew best, because he wanted to use it to put Kitagawa Hide's arrogance in check, a move colloquially known as "showing him a warning."

Otherwise, according to custom, Kitagawa Hideaki, being a guest from afar, should have talked more about Japanese literature, which the other party was familiar with; that would have been true "hostly hospitality."

Unexpectedly, once the topic was brought up, Kitagawa Hide's understanding and knowledge of ancient Russian literature was in no way inferior to his, and even his research on details seemed to be deeper!

Who can bear this!
"So, from which period do you think Russian literature truly entered the pantheon of world literary history?"

Yevgeny glanced at his two friends, who were driving and sitting in the passenger seat. They seemed indifferent to the conversation between the two in the back, but in fact, they were listening intently.

I can't lose face in front of my underlings!
So, in order to get back at Kitagawa, Yevgeny deliberately set a trap for him.

This issue involves defining a part of the history of Tsarist Russian literature. This is something that is usually done by local writers. No matter what outsiders say, they feel awkward about "interfering in the internal affairs of another country."

In addition, when asked similar questions, many overseas literary scholars will unhesitatingly bring up Leo Tolstoy's "War and Peace".

"War and Peace" is indeed the most representative work of Tsarist Russian literature, but it is by no means the work that officially brought Tsarist Russian literature into the world literary pantheon.

This is just the foolish perception of some people who don't know much about Tsarist Russian literature.

If such words were uttered in front of writers in Tsarist Russia, they would certainly be ridiculed and despised.

If you encounter some hot-tempered, conservative intellectuals, then congratulations on getting a cane or a wheelchair.

Kitagawa immediately realized the pitfall in the Yevgeny question. He smiled, completely unconcerned, and continued according to his own ideas: "If I had to say, I would say that the anonymous book 'The Tale of Igor's Expedition' from the late 12th century marks the beginning of the formal integration of Russian literature with world literature."

This novel, written in an epic and vivid style, recounts the experiences of Grand Prince Igor of Novgorod-Seviersky in 1185, including his solo campaign against the Poirots in the south, his defeat and capture, and his eventual return home.

The entire novel is permeated with the idea of ​​unity against aggression, and in terms of content and technique, it is comparable to the French novel *The Song of Roland* and the German novel *The Nibelungenlied*.

Yevgeny had considered all the possible answers Kitagawa Hide might give, and had countermeasures for each of them.

But ironically, this guy was talking about "The Tale of Igor's Expedition," a work that many readers in Tsarist Russia were not very familiar with!
This masterpiece from the late 12th century, due to its anonymous author, varying annotations, and high reading threshold, was largely not circulated in the Russian literary market.

Unfortunately, the literary literacy of the Russian people was far lower than their military literacy. Apart from the books of top writers like Leo Tolstoy, they were too lazy to read many "side books".

Instead of wasting time reading all sorts of messy ancient literary works, it would be more practical to drive a tank out into the wilderness and fire a few shots!
Because of this literary market environment, the works of new generation writers like Yevgeny are mainly war literature.

War literature has always been a subject that has not been well-regarded or recognized in the history of world literature.

After all, if this subject matter is to be written in a profound way, it has to involve some unpleasant wars, like "Killing Commendatore" and "The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle".

Then, as they write, they either become political literature or offend many vested interests. In the end, no matter how well they write, it is difficult to win any prestigious awards or get any promotional resources.

Kitagawa Hide's two anti-war works are profound and popular enough, aren't they?

However, compared to his other works, he is relatively unknown both in Japan and overseas.

This was also one of the important reasons that hindered the development of Russian literature.

Kitagawa Hideaki's ability to recite "The Igor Expedition," a book most Tsarist Russians couldn't even name, was enough to shut up Yevgeny and others.

Kitagawa saw the astonished expressions of the two people in the front row through the rearview mirror, and knew that he had won some more favor.

Gorky's trilogy is ultimately based on Tsarist Russia, and it will certainly be published in the Tsarist Russian literary market in the future.

If people in the literary world insist on blocking their own path, that would be a troublesome matter.

Writing about other people's countries, yet not being recognized by them.

No matter how excellent or brilliant this novel is, it will be difficult to convince those spectators in the Western world.

“You’re right. I personally think so too.” Yevgeny really didn’t want to agree with Kitagawa Hide, but he couldn’t lie against his conscience.

Seeing that the nearly two-meter-tall man had finally given in, Kitagawa Hide breathed a sigh of relief and continued chatting about the history and literature of Tsarist Russia.

After this incident, their communication became smoother, and the tense atmosphere disappeared.

As the car drove from the outskirts of Moscow into the city, the atmosphere of Moscow in 99 evoked a sense of desolation, like "the twilight of a great power, a edifice about to collapse," leaving Kitagawa Hide deeply saddened.

"It was initially thought that after those oligarchs were removed, the country's politics and economy would enter a new era, but in reality..."

Yevgeny sighed, also deeply moved by the scene.

The reason why the upper class is the upper class is that they can start a new life anywhere in the world simply by changing their name.

Meanwhile, ordinary people who are drained of their lifeblood find it difficult to even find a new home.

"I'm really looking forward to your new work, Kitagawa Hide." Yevgeny was completely impressed by Kitagawa Hide's demeanor; his tone was no longer sharp, but his fighting spirit and will were even stronger. "Don't underestimate me either!"

(End of this chapter)