In Chang-Rae Lee's Native Language, Luzan asks Henry, "Who, my young friend, have you been all along life?" (205). It is through narrative form that Luzan is able to see beyond Henry's words. Luzan urges Henry to "take story forms" (206), and as Henry recounts his dilemmas to the doctor, he also negotiates the his identity through narrative. Although Lee presents various identity markers in Native Speaker, including skin color, gender, occupation, language, and values, he reveals that such markers are inadequate in expressing the entire identity of a person, as they carry with them stereotypes of different racial and social groups and therefore tend to establish binaries of the Self versus an Other. Society imposes such indicators on individuals, depriving them of the ability to construct their own identity representative based on what an individual feels defines and is part of him or her. Faced with such a dilemma, Chang-Rae Lee presents storytelling as an alternative native-language means for an individual like Henry to negotiate his or her identity. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an Original Essay Storytelling as a viable means through which one can discover one's identity might seem to suggest that verbal and written languages ​​are possible markers of identity, but storytelling and verbal language do not necessarily have to occur together. Fundamentally, storytelling is a universal activity that reveals the desire of human beings to share experiences and communicate with others. Although Ludwig claims that “language is a key; it tells you more about a person than their face or their 'ethnicity' in the sense of origin... the way you speak defines you” (234), language can also be a tool for inflicting violence, as can be seen from Henry's spy logs. Henry writes “like a sentient transcription machine” (203), giving him “the illusion of non-involvement” (Ludwig 226). Henry simply notes down what he observes, and his transmission of information using only language without narration results in Luzan's death. Henry understands that he “can no longer…paint a figure like Kwang in momentary language, but that…greater truths lie in our necessary fictions that span human events and time” (206), revealing that he is narrative, not language, that reveals a character's identity. Furthermore, Lee shows us that language can be meaningless, as Henry's father begins hurling words like "my hot mommy shit tight ass cock sucker" (63) at his wife in anger, and Henry breaks in shouting big words like “socio-economic” (63) to the father in “complete sentences” (63). Even if the words themselves mean nothing in this context, it is the speaker's true intention, hidden behind those words, that conveys a message. When a person uses language to juxtapose and distance themselves from others, just like the other identity markers in the novel, it creates an “Other” figure. Instead of helping in the negotiation of identity, such use of language locks people into stereotypes within binaries.Therefore, language alone is not sufficient as a marker of identity because "the world is not ruled by demons and saints but by ten thousand dark souls in between" (196). to P'ansori, a Korean storytelling tradition in which not only the language of the story is important, but also elements such as rhythm, sound and audience participation. In P'ansori, a singer tells a story, but is not alone in the act oftale. A drummer who accompanies and interacts with the singer “is not a passive responder but, rather, an equal partner” (Park 274) in telling the story through rhythm. Lee also draws attention to sound in the novel, having Henry describe Kwang's accents as "melodic" (150) and as "a languid baritone" (297). Furthermore, Kwang believes that the “songs and chants” of blacks (195) gave them power, even though he did not even understand the English language at the time. With P'ansori as the prime example, it becomes clear that narration transcends narration in verbal or written language. Although language is one medium of storytelling, Lee demonstrates that stories can be told in more than just one way. For example, Lelia discovers the story of who Ahjuhma is not through verbal or textual language, but through a physical fight over laundry. Narration through verbal language fails for Lelia and Ahjuhma, as Ahjuhma refuses to speak to Lelia, yet Lelia is still able to discern that Ahjuhma is “an abandoned girl” (73) after the laundry fight. It is therefore through the universal medium of narrative that identity can be communicated, rather than through language alone. Henry is able to express his identity through the universality of narrative, but this medium also requires action and personal involvement in order to be a possible means of identity negotiation. As Okihiro mentions, “our memories have been massaged by white hands, and how can we remember the past when our storytellers whisper amid the din of Western civilization and Anglo-Saxon conformity?” (Okihiro 34). Lee reflects this in Native Speaker when Henry's father “offers the classic immigrant story, presenting himself as the heroic newcomer” (49-50) because he knows “what every native loves to hear” (49), thus allowing the “ native[s]” (49) to define his identity as part of the model minority. Yet Henry knows that the reason for his father's success, the gheh, reflects communal rather than individualistic success, and although the gheh occupies a significant part of Henry's father's life story, he forgoes it to fit into a larger narrative . of the “natives” (49). The abandonment of his personal history thus leads Henry's father to stereotype himself as part of the model minority, and therefore to renounce the true narrative that effectively defines his identity. Likewise, there is a lack of personal involvement in the narrative present in Henry's spy logs, as he simply writes down what he observes passively, as if he were not involved. Here, Henry does more than inflict violence through the passivity of his narrative. He attempts to tell others' stories for them, ultimately leading to Luzan's death and, thus, depriving Luzan of his chance to tell his story. It is only when Henry breaks away from passive writing and relays information about Kwang as a man rather than a political figure that he discovers "the leap of [Kwang's] identity that no one in [Henry's] work would find valuable except [him]" (211 ). As Henry begins to tell stories with more initiative and personal involvement, he begins to discern the identities of others and, through communication with others, also discovers himself. However, without an audience, storytelling would also be useless, because without someone to listen for them, the stories would be lost and forgotten. As such, although storytelling is a viable medium through which to construct and negotiate identities, “the inalienable human condition of access to language…means nothing if access to an audience is absent” (Lim 14). The audience in this case includes not only Native readersSpeaker, but also the fictional characters of the novel. Storytelling is not simply a one-way activity where a story is simply told, but a story must also be told with the audience in mind. P'ansori is relevant here as audience participation in the form of ch'wimsae is a crucial component of the narrative in this novel. Ch'wimsae involves "stylized shouts of encouragement... as a way to energize the singer (as needed)" (Park 275), and "the more experienced the person, the more powerfully his or her voice blends into the rhythmic and melodic flow of the song". the stage” (Park 275). Audience participation is therefore a vital component of storytelling as it supports the narrator and becomes a crucial part of the performance. Henry, however, is unable to perform ch'wimsae as he feels like "an audience member has asked to stand up and sing with the diva, that [he] knows every pitch and note but can no longer conjure them" (267) every time he enters a Korean store. He suggests, however, that if he were “skillful with [his] speech” (316), the Korean waitress he knows “would turn away and could quietly confide” (316) the story of her life. Yet Henry is unable to do so and chooses not to express himself through a different medium of storytelling. As an audience member, he fails to participate in the storytelling process, leaving the Korean maid's story untold. Likewise, readers cannot simply cast a “polite gaze” (Moraru 71) on the narrative, as such an approach would be too formal and removed and would therefore lead to the stories losing their personal meaning. Without an audience, stories would remain confined to “a whisper amidst the din of Western civilization and Anglo-conformism” (Okihiro 34). Not only must the audience or reader listen to the stories being told, but they must also interact with those stories to shape the story through their own imagination. For Mitt, a silver coin that his grandfather gives him takes on meaning because the story his grandfather tells him of "a lost young prince" (102) stimulates his imagination, and in turn, Henry understands its meaning as well if Mitt dies. It is because Mitt imbues the coin with meaning in his imagination that Henry is able to imagine that the coin can still bear “the printing of a flesh” (102), thus leaving behind a trace of Mitt for Henry. At the end of the novel, Lelia participates in a similar engagement through sounds, as she speaks “a dozen lovely, native languages, calling all the difficult names of what we are” (349). Throughout the novel, the only words that textually reflect the accents are the names: “Leel-ya” (12), “Mahler” (232), and “Kwan” (238). This suggests that because names suggest one's origins (e.g., “Ichibata” would indicate that the name originates from Japan), they are also the words that potentially allow speakers to speak in different “native languages” (349) and to use their unique pronunciation. Because Lelia pronounces all the various names in the different “native languages” (349), she therefore participates as an audience member by interacting with children from minority groups, producing their unique sounds rather than simply forcing them to produce hers. Furthermore, by setting Henry as the Speech Monster, Lee also positions Henry in acting, allowing the children to participate in a story set in which they utter the "secret phrase" (348), or rather, produce the magical sounds to defeat the speech monster. word. Once again, there are elements of P'ansori-style audience participation here, as both narrators and audiences negotiate the narrative through "mutual shaping" (Park 283), thus acting as "a confirmation of the close relationship Thatconnects the singer, the drummer and the audience” (Park 275). The story told and sung in a P'ansori show is therefore not static. It changes and shifts depending on the input of the singer, the drummer and the audience. For storytelling to have meaning, readers and audiences must engage with stories imaginatively to shape narratives and instill meaning and significance in them. At the end of Henry and Lee's stories, at the end of the novel, there is no real resolution as the stereotypes still remain. However, the narrative itself could be the means to the novel's conclusion. The novel ends with a scene that suggests that nothing has changed, because the children hear Henry speaking and "wonder...as they check again that [Henry's] voice moves in time with [his] mouth, does it belong truly to [his] face" (349). Lee, however, may not necessarily propose a solution to the problem of racial stereotypes and classifications. When Henry quits his job as a spy, his narrative begins to take on the present tense. In the first part of the novel, Henry says “who we were” (240), but in the final scene he uses “who we are” instead (349). The shift from the past to the present in the novel reveals its cyclical nature, since when the reader reaches the narrator's present, he begins to write the past, which is the story we have just read, and the beginning of his memory signifies the beginning of the story for the audience. This cyclical structure suggests that narrative is a means of negotiating identity, as readers engage and re-engage with the native speaker's story in this cyclical pattern. The reader participates in the rediscovery and reconstruction of Henry's story to better understand what Henry believes represents him. Such repeated engagements also allow readers to remember Henry's story, as opposed to the facts Hoagland shares with Henry about his clients. Hoagland "drilled" (39) on Henry's clients, compiling lists of facts about the clients and whether the information was useful or not, and such facts usually do not stick in the reader's mind as clearly as a story does because the meaning does not register. Meanwhile, storytelling gives meaning to an identity as the audience is able to hear, interact with, and remember the story. While the potential weakness of the native speaker is that the various accents of different groups are not conveyed and the novel therefore comes dangerously close to supporting what Ludwig calls co-opting “a flattering model of ethnic pluralism as multiculturalism” (Ludwig 221), this flaw is justified because the story is told with and from Henry's voice and point of view. Henry himself tells us that he does not have a good command of the Korean language, that when he speaks it his tone is “uncertain, uncertain” (267), and it would be justifiable to say that Henry can only tell his story through “the figurative power of own language” (Kim 251). Since the story is a first-person narrative, if Henry were to reflect accents linguistically, his narration would not be as truthful because it would define others and fit them into stereotypes. Rather, Henry allows these other characters to speak for themselves, to tell their own stories with the voices and sounds that are natural for them to make. Furthermore, the text also shows self-reflexivity in calling our attention to the limitations of the written text, since the written text cannot truly produce sounds. Since it is necessary to engage in the narrative as an audience or readers, Lee might suggest that, even if his narrator does not provide us with linguistic cues of accents in his narration, we as readers can and should produce and imagine these sounds ourselves, to participate in the process Of. 2010.