The Japanese novel took shape at the turn of the twentieth century, as many of its counterparts from all around the world, under the influence of European literature, especially Russian, English and French, and the most famous early Japanese novels are fiction, like Ozaki Kōyō’s Konjiki yasha (1897–1903; The Golden Demon), Tokutomi Roka’s Hototogisu (1900 ; The Cuckoo) or Natsume Sōseki’s Wagahai wa neko de aru (1905-1906 ; I am a cat). However, by the 1920s, Japanese writers were questioning the very nature of what constituted a ‘proper novel’. They generally agreed on the fact that a novel’s artistic value of a novel lay in the truth it is conveying about the world, leading them to question the value of fiction. Some of them considered that this truth could be achieved by making up characters and creating an entire world of fiction. On the other hand, others argued that true artistic expression required writing about one’s own life experiences, advocating for what was then called shishōsetsu (I-novel). In these debates, there is a strong tendency to identify ‘fictional’ novels with a Western aesthetic exemplified by Tolstoï, Flaubert or Balzac, while the I-novel was supposed to embody a Japanese way of writing. This paper examines key literary discourses to understand how the contempt of fiction has been used to define what is “Japanese” literature, and it investigates the extent to which these perspectives were shared or contested among writers of the time.

The systematic silence regarding Dalit fiction in India, reflects the established caste hierarchies, extending to published literary works. Initially, Dalit writing was not acknowledged in mainstream media, literary festivals, or academic settings; lack of translation, as most Dalit experiences are also regionalised, also contributed to the suppression of Dalit voices.

Rohith Vemula's last letter to the world inspired a large number of young Dalit writers to pen their stories. Contemporary Indian literature has these vibrant writers working with multiple genres such as science fiction, speculative fiction, and graphic narratives, highlighting several Dalit issues. However, those works can only be found in niche corners of literary topography, rarely talked about in mainstream media.

Although it can be argued that the censorship in publishing Dalit literature has been less concerning, the nature of engagement from readers or critics has been chronically indifferent regarding its acceptance, especially for genres regarding fiction. There is little to mention in reviews or literary criticism about books such as The Blaft Book of Anti-Caste SF (2024), which is the first of its kind, an anthology bridging the Dalit consciousness of the younger generation, in a genre that has inheritance from both European science fiction and Afrofuturism. The references to Dalit literature have stayed zoomed in on only autobiographical elements, as if the ‘Dalit-ness’ of the writer must bleed down to the pages with a strong truth claim to be considered Dalit enough. Dalit non-fiction writing, especially autobiographies, has more visibility; books such as Jhoothan (1997) by Omprakash Valmiki can be found in the syllabi of Indian universities. On the other hand, Bama’s Sangati (2005), though a novel, is considered to be a collective autobiography. Both of these texts are extremely important and are part of syllabi in their own right, but this is a high time to question why Dalit literature should be only read within the aspect of pedagogy.

Along with the discomfort towards Dalit aesthetics for a society that shares collective responsibility for the tradition of suppression, even the scope of creating conversations with newer fiction has been a rare case and often ‘untouched’ by the wider readership.

The Brahmanical patriarchal system, along with their ideological alignment with right-wing nationalist politics, is another direct threat to the proliferation of Dalit literature. Silencing is a tool of systemic Otherization; continuous under-representation lengthens the silence that shrouds the hegemonic oppression. Given the rise of the right-wing populist nationalist narrative, this erasure means a fatal failure for India as a nation.

This study would mainly focus on the lack of representation of Dalit fiction in the Indian reading scene and its silencing effect towards Otherization.

Contemporary fiction is caught between contradictory ethical demands for inclusivity and authenticity, tasked with making multiple experiences visible without engaging in supposedly damaging forms of cultural appropriation: authors must lay claim to the right to represent a particular experience. This is one explanation for both the tendency toward personal narrative and the turn toward the factual and the particular. Conversely, contemporary defenders of fiction often praise its capacity for impersonality and its projection of an imagined collectivity. This paper considers a related phenomenon, drawing on examples from French- and English-language literature: the recent tendency to characterize first-person fictions as forms of impersonation, involving the usurpation of identity and a fundamental failure of empathy. The rejection of fiction as impersonation arguably goes back at least to Book 3 of Plato’s Republic, with its attack on the moral impact of imitation on the actor – and, by extension, on the cunningly polymorphous poet. Today, however, the fear of fiction as impersonation is a symptom of new anxieties around personhood, identity, and performance.

Cette communication vise à analyser le rôle du médecin humaniste, qui a toujours été présent au long de l'Histoire de la Médecine, et à réfléchir à la manière dont la littérature peut être utile dans la formation des médecins d'aujourd'hui et du futur.

En effet, en tant que littéraire, nous nous demandons si nous sommes sur le point de sombrer dans l'ère de l'intelligence artificielle et de l'imposition technologique en ce qui concerne les relations humaines, en prenant le risque de perdre tout référentiel humanisant.

Nous allons, donc, utiliser la médecine narrative (à savoir, l’approche théorique de Rita Charon, de Maria de Jesus Cabral et/ou Gérard Danou) comme outil méthodologique pour réfléchir à l'importance de la relation médecin-patient-soignant, qui suscite un souci croissant chez les enseignants de médecine, directeurs de services des hôpitaux, entre autres, ainsi que chez le patient et sa famille.