ABSTRACT
I wanted to give texture to the hesitation about narrating history, to add local color to the transparent silence, to eke out such space amid the disciplinary language of international relations to think about the politics of history in East Asia. I wanted to think about what it means to stand at the limits of history after the death of grand narratives, to attend to the messiness of being-with-others rather than the clarity of logic, to ask what the impasse conveys. I wanted to think about the words that could be said, the words that ought to be said, and capture the moment of withholding of the words that should be said.
