I am a terrible person. A wretch of a human being. This is not merely an evaluation from others, but something I have felt in various moments of my life. Perhaps, by writing this now, I am attempting to challenge that very assessment.
A “wretch”—or “kuzu” (scrap/trash)—does not simply refer to mere dust or rubbish; it is something more abject. While dust possesses its own microscopic structure, it lacks a fixed macroscopic form. One could say it is protean, capable of taking any shape.
Incidentally, the human body is fundamentally built upon its skeleton. A skeleton without flesh is a symbol of terror, like a skull. Flesh without a skeleton is something even more unsettling. The human body is composed of a combination of such elements. It is fair to say we are made of the same substance as “scraps.”
However, how one assembles those elements varies from person to person. Even if the individual parts are grotesque, they can become beautiful or ugly depending on how they are combined. This goes beyond mere posture correction or muscle training; it is about how one acts through that physical body.
While there are limits to what one can shape through solitary effort, it is the nature of a human being to strive to transcend those boundaries. The term “wretch of a human” is used less to describe the state of one’s physical body and more to describe how one interacts with others using that body.
Even if one remains shut away in a room, the mere absence of interaction with others rarely leaves a positive impression. On the other hand, a lack of social connection is not necessarily sufficient grounds to brand someone a “wretch.”
Often, it is precisely because of the way one interacts with others—specifically, in a cruel or harmful manner—that such a judgment is passed. In other words, to discuss whether or not one is a “wretch,” the presence or absence of others must serve as a mediator.
Once again, am I not a terrible person? Perhaps I am a wretch. I say this because I previously stated that such a judgment requires the mediation of others. At this very moment, I am not writing this text with anyone else.
I am writing alone, by my own judgment. This contradicts what I stated earlier. Furthermore, while I mentioned that “scraps” are protean, I also noted that there are limits to the role of solitary effort in human formation.
Yet, the protean nature of a “wretch” lies precisely in this power of individual judgment. Even if the presence or absence of others is involved when one is judged a “wretch,” the question remains: how does one stand while grappling with those others and facing one’s own limitations?
