With The East Asian War, 1592–1598, it is better to begin at the end, with the one-and-a-half-page conclusion, in which the editor, James B. Lewis, explains the nature of the book and his aim in editing it, and provides one-line summaries of each of its seventeen chapters. He points out that, in Western and Chinese scholarship, little attention is paid to the Imjin War (1592–98), while in Korea and Japan studies abound. Sources, too, are lavishly available in Korean, Japanese, and Chinese. Hence, Lewis asked prominent scholars from Korea, Japan, and Western countries to contribute articles that would “provide introductions to large areas of concern and identify analytical problems” (p. 378). This explains why several contributions read like reviews of existing Japanese and Korean literature, while others seem to fly off on a tangent. It also explains why the volume as a whole does not establish a set of questions or problems regarding the war, which the authors would then address individually.
The consequence is that, beyond the basic topic of the Imjin War as its common denominator, the book lacks focus and coherence. Some of the contributions, specifically those by Murai Shōsuke, Kenneth Swope, and Lewis, hardly treat the war at all.Footnote 1 Murai introduces unexplored sources in Kagoshima, but regarding the war itself, his essay only contains “excerpts” from one of them (pp. 112–17). Similarly, Swope's contribution discusses a lot of methodology, and a lot of grand Chinese strategy, but includes only four pages about the war itself (pp. 179–82). Lewis, too, only offers four pages on the war (pp. 261–64); what he says about King Sŏnjo's flight in 1592 is intended to illustrate the concepts of “hierarchy and hegemony,” which “were (and perhaps are) significant questions for Northeast Asia” (p. 261). He recommends turning to specialists in international relations for further exploration.
The essays are arranged into three sections: “International and Domestic Background,” “War,” and “Impact and Memory.” The third section heavily leans towards memory: worship of the Ming's Wanli Emperor, Chinese generals, and Chinese soldiers (Kuwano Eiji); the war in literature (Choi Gwan); and the social and political significance of the moralistic compendium Tongguk Sinsok Samgang Haengsildo (Michael J. Pettid).Footnote 2 The treatment of impact is limited to the introduction into Japan of moveable type, books, Confucian scholarship, and ceramics, and of tobacco and chili pepper into Korea (Ha Woo Bong). Missing is a treatment of the negotiations after the war, which led to the return of Korean captives and the resumption of diplomatic relations between Japan and Korea. On the other hand, the volume does contain a chapter on the postwar relations between Chosŏn and the Ming, the Jurchen, and the Qing (Han Myung-gi).
In contrast, the three essays of the book's first section very much concentrate on diplomacy, but from a Tsushima-centered perspective.Footnote 3 They portray the daimyō of Tsushima as someone who sent “impostor envoys,” lied to the rulers of both Korea and Japan, and forged seals and letters, all in order to maintain the peace and to keep his trade going. Behind him loomed the shadows of Hakata merchants, and behind them, of important daimyō like the Ōuchi and Ōtomo. We are not told, however, how the setup worked, only that the war was precipitated by inadequate information in Seoul and Kyoto about the other party, and that this was due to the dearth of diplomatic contacts.
The next batch of essays, which compose the book's second section, deals with the war itself.Footnote 4 The first two contributions present the war from the Japanese side. Kitajima Manji and Sajima Akiko, respectively, point out the difference in war aims between Hideyoshi's first and second expeditions and explain Hideyoshi's decision to order a second invasion as follows: the only alternative for Hideyoshi, a “total evacuation from Chosŏn,” would have meant “the collapse of his regime” (p. 82; cf. pp. 104–5).
The two essays on the actual fighting are both conceptualized from the Korean side. One is an analysis of the war at sea (Yi Min'ung), which explains why the Koreans (read: Admiral Yi Sunsin) won, but not why the Japanese lost. The other essay, by Nukii Masayuki, treats the Korean “righteous armies” (ŭibyŏng), who were decried by Hideyoshi as “the most frightening thing in Korea” (p. 161).
Regarding the Chinese involvement, we have the chapters by Harriet Zurndorfer and Nam-lin Hur. Zurndorfer succinctly deals with the relationship between Chosŏn and Ming before the war; the composition, tactics, strategy, and preparedness of the Chinese army; and the Wanli Emperor's decision to come to Chosŏn's rescue. This chapter also treats the peace negotiations, the second invasion, and the end of the war following Hideyoshi's death. Hur covers much of the same territory, but in the second part of his essay, he turns to a theme that Zurndorfer ignores, namely, the hardship that the Chinese army inflicted on ordinary Koreans, as Korea, a country devastated by war, was made responsible for provisioning the Chinese armies (pp. 244–49). This point is emphasized also by Han Myung-gi (pp. 277–79), who in his chapter analyzes the differences in perception between the court and the common people (pp. 281–83).
Some of the contributions in The East Asian War, 1592–1598, such as those by Murai, Ha, and Choi, can best be taken as exhortations to further reading, while others, like Lewis's chapter, point to discipline-oriented research. Some (Robinson, Zurndorfer, and Hur) are finished articles in which the reader might find much to admire, but few hints regarding new research. All in all, however, the book fulfills Lewis's stated purpose: it stimulates reflection.
