In this blog post, I propose a perspective that rediscovers ‘Gulliver’s Travels’ as 18th-century satirical literature—not merely as a fantasy adventure set in Lilliput and Brobdingnag—but through the lens of Jonathan Swift’s political background, the Manipian tradition of satire, and the satire of human nature in the Land of Houyhnhnms.
- Introduction
- Jonathan Swift
- Satirical Literature
- 'Gulliver’s Travels' and 'Robinson Crusoe': The Relationship Between the Modern Individual and the Community
- Gulliver and Crusoe: Individualism and Madness
- Lilliput, Satire of Reality, and the Imagination of Laughter and Defecation
- Brozdingnak and Gulliver’s Identity
- Laputa and Critique of Modernity
- Critique of Modernity and Political Satire
- The Land of the Houyhnhnms
- The Issue of Women and the Conclusion
Introduction
“Gulliver’s Travels” is a world-renowned classic with which many Koreans feel familiar, even if they have not read the original text or a complete translation. Until now, the book has often been regarded as children’s literature, centered on the popular episodes set in Lilliput and Brobdingnag, and as one of the first works of Western literature translated into Hangul during the late Joseon Dynasty, it has long held an important place in the Korean imagination.
One reason for the work’s enduring popularity in Korea is likely its unique imaginative world of adventures in fantastical lands. However, ‘Gulliver’s Travels’ transcends a simple fantasy adventure; it is also a prime example of satirical literature that expresses, with both humor and indignation, the issues emerging in 18th-century Britain—such as the conflict between the old and the new, scientism, colonialism, the modern self, and women’s issues.
In particular, the journey through Lilliput, Brobdingnag, and the flying island of Laputa to the land of the Houyhnhnms—where the perfectly rational and articulate Houyhnhnms stand in stark contrast to the hideous human-like Yahoos—unfolds a fundamental satire on the human species. This utopian imagination, grotesque aesthetics, and scathing criticism make the work a masterpiece of satirical literature. Along with childhood memories, one of the joys of reading the complete translation is precisely this rediscovery of the work as a satirical masterpiece.
Jonathan Swift
Jonathan Swift, a leading intellectual and outstanding writer of 18th-century England, was born in Dublin, Ireland, in 1667 and raised by relatives. Although his parents were English, his experience of being born and raised in Ireland—which was effectively under British rule at the time—provides crucial context for understanding Swift.
After attending Trinity College, Swift moved to England, where, in his early twenties, he worked as a secretary to Sir William Temple and honed his literary skills by writing works such as “A Tale of a Tub.” After Temple’s death, with the support of Robert Harley, he edited ‘The Examiner’, a pro-government magazine, and actively wrote political pamphlets criticizing the Whig Party. During this time, he also formed and was active in the Scriblerus Club alongside Pope, Albersnutt, Gay, and Parnell.
Although Swift appears to have sought high office in London, following the death of Queen Anne and the downfall of the Tory Party, he eventually returned to Dublin, where he served as the rector of St. Patrick’s Cathedral—a Church of England parish—for over 30 years until his death.
He harbored mixed feelings toward Ireland, his homeland and the place where he spent most of his life. On the one hand, he despised Ireland as “filthy and lazy,” unable to escape poverty and powerlessness; on the other hand, he felt intense anger toward the British for their unjust exploitation of an already devastated Ireland. This divided sense of identity is revealed in an ambiguous yet persistent manner, particularly in the relationship between Houyhnhnms and Yahoos in the fourth part of ‘Gulliver’s Travels’.
Swift denounced British conspiracies in ‘The Letters of Drapier’, a political pamphlet defending Ireland, and wrote ‘A Modest Proposal’, which exposed Ireland’s desperate poverty through extreme satire. He never married and maintained close friendships with two women named “Stella” and “Vanessa.” In accordance with his will, his remaining estate was used to establish St. Patrick’s Hospital, a mental institution.
Satirical Literature
Eighteenth-century Britain was a period in which capitalism was becoming established following the Industrial Revolution, a political system centered on party politics was taking root, and new ideas such as empiricism, the Enlightenment, and individualism were spreading. Amid these historical changes, 18th-century English literature occupies a unique position in literary history. Sandwiched between the Renaissance and the periods of Romanticism and Realism, this era is often referred to as the “Age of Prose,” but it is significant for two reasons.
First, satirical literature flourished and achieved great success; second, the genre we now call the novel emerged and became established during this period.
Satirical literature as a genre is generally considered to have originated in the satirical poetry of Horace and Juvenal in ancient Rome. This tradition focuses on ridiculing or sharply criticizing the wicked and foolish aspects of human nature, while simultaneously presenting the virtues to be emulated. Roman satirical poetry criticized the absurdities of contemporary society through logical persuasion, orderly meter, and refined rhetoric; it is no coincidence that satirical literature was actively produced and consumed in 18th-century Britain, at the height of the Enlightenment. Writers such as John Dryden, Alexander Pope, and Jonathan Swift took Roman satire as their model and left behind a wealth of works.
Meanwhile, alongside satirical literature that adhered to mainstream formal beauty and didactic attitudes, there existed a more populist and humorous tradition that was either idealistic or excluded moral lessons, allowing philosophy and humor to coexist. Known as Menippean satire, this experimental form—blending poetry and prose—played a crucial role in conveying the subversive ideas of Renaissance intellectuals. Petronius’s ‘Satyricon’, Lucian’s tales, Apuleius’s ‘The Golden Ass’, Boethius’s ‘The Consolation of Philosophy’, and others—is also linked to works such as Thomas More’s ‘Utopia’, Erasmus’s ‘In Praise of Folly’, and Rabelais’s ‘Gargantua and Pantagruel’.
“Gulliver’s Travels” can be read, broadly speaking, as a work that continues the tradition of Menippean satire. The work’s fantastical elements, the technique of defamiliarization, the relative perspective created by the giant’s point of view, utopian imaginings of reality, metamorphosis and the fragmented self, and themes of madness are all central to Menippean satire. As scholars have pointed out, Menippean satire is historically one of the major traditions that constitute the novel genre, and the idea that ‘Gulliver’s Travels’ is both a work of satirical literature and a major tradition of 18th-century fiction is an intriguing issue worthy of further in-depth study. This discussion becomes even richer when later works such as ‘Tristram Shandy’ are considered part of the canon.
‘Gulliver’s Travels’ and ‘Robinson Crusoe’: The Relationship Between the Modern Individual and the Community
The narrative of ‘Gulliver’s Travels’ is an adventure into fantastical lands, but this fantasy goes beyond mere curiosity to signify an encounter with communities different from the one to which he belonged. In particular, as Gulliver repeatedly finds himself cast into communities to which he can never truly belong, the work explores the relationship between the individual and the community.
The countries Gulliver visits are all ordinary nations with political systems, economic structures, legal and educational systems, social classes, languages, and cultures. Nevertheless, the reason Lilliput and Brobdingnag feel like fantasies is the physical size difference between Gulliver and the members of those societies; because of this difference, Gulliver and the reader are subjected to various strange and bizarre experiences. In places steeped in fantasy, such as Laputa or the Land of Houyhnhnms, this sense of alienation becomes even more pronounced.
The crux of the matter is that wherever Gulliver goes, he finds himself cast into communities to which he can never truly belong due to the fundamental difference of his physical form. As this alienation repeats, his identity becomes confusingly fragmented, and he eventually returns home in a state bordering on madness. It is crucial to note that the decisive reason Gulliver cannot belong to any community is not due to mental factors—such as cognitive ability or language acquisition—but simply because his body is different.
When we consider that the criteria for discrimination against social minorities—based on race, disability, ethnicity, gender, and so on—lie primarily in differences of the body—the body as a sign inscribed with social symbols—Gulliver’s adventure into the fantastical lands can be read as a political and social narrative that goes beyond mere imagination to draw on the actual context of modern society.
Gulliver and Crusoe: Individualism and Madness
In particular, when we consider that ‘Gulliver’s Travels’ is, in some respects, a response to ‘Robinson Crusoe’—a work that wholeheartedly embraced the modern era of capitalism, individualism, and imperialism—Gulliver’s near-mad state at the end of the novel is by no means something that can be dismissed lightly.
As is well known, Crusoe survived after being shipwrecked on a desert island through indomitable will, remarkable independence, perseverance, and resourcefulness; and upon his return to Europe, he not only adapted so quickly that his 28 years on the island seemed irrelevant but also became a man of great wealth through the growth of the fortune he had left behind. However, despite his exceptional ability to acquire languages and adapt, Gulliver—unlike Crusoe—fails to become the protagonist of the myth of the “modern autonomous, self-determining subject” and ultimately descends into madness through a fractured self.
Viewed in this light, Crusoe—who is cast ashore on a deserted island (and, as a bonus, acquires a servant of color) for the sake of the myth of individual autonomy—and Gulliver, who descends into schizoid madness by repeatedly finding himself cast into communities to which he cannot belong, can be read as the narrative embodiment of two extreme 18th-century perspectives on the relationship between the modern individual and the community. This is true even if we do not interpret Gulliver’s madness as the tragic conclusion of a modern individual who, lacking a community in which to properly reflect on his identity, was forced to repeatedly set out in search of a new one.
Lilliput, Satire of Reality, and the Imagination of Laughter and Defecation
Lilliput, the first fantastical land Gulliver visits, is a country inhabited by little people one-twelfth the size of humans. There, Gulliver is called the “Mountain Man” and lives among the Lilliputians, who are as small as dolls. He experiences various events, such as defeating the fleet of the neighboring island nation of Blefuscu and being awarded the highest title of “Nardak” by the Emperor of Lilliput, or being sentenced to hard labor after being framed by the Admiral of the Fleet and the Minister of Finance.
In Part 1, the Lilliputian section, Swift’s satire of the political and religious situation in England during his own time is particularly prominent. In Lilliput, the most important skill for ascending to high office or achieving success is how well one performs tightrope walking to entertain the Emperor and other court ministers. Furthermore, the Emperor, holding a stick in the Council Chamber, awards blue, red, or green sashes as rewards depending on how high the ministers jump or how low they crawl; each color symbolizes the degree of the King’s favor. Through these episodes, Swift humorously illustrates the reality of his era, in which bureaucratic appointments were determined not by competence for the job or moral character befitting the position, but by one’s ability to flatter those in power.
He also ridicules the serious partisan conflicts of the time by presenting the difference between the Tories and the Whigs as a trivial matter—whether one wears high-heeled or low-heeled shoes. The conflict between Catholicism and Protestantism—or the animosity and conflict between the Catholic nation of France and the Protestant nation of England—is also satirized in a similar manner. It is explained as having arisen after a prince of Lilliput, having injured his finger by cracking an egg on the flat end as he always did, prompted the startled king to issue a decree that all eggs must henceforth be cracked on the pointed end. At the same time, the text points out that the scriptures state, “All true believers may crack eggs whichever way is most convenient.”
Presented as a satirical mirror of British politics and religion, these situations in Lilliput are generally lighthearted and comical in nature. To use Bachchin’s terminology, they are festive and populist. Tightrope walking and pole-jumping are games commonly played in the British countryside, and the heights of shoe heels and egg-cracking are also everyday, familiar subjects. In fact, Part I is the brightest and lightest section of ‘Gulliver’s Travels’, largely due to the fact that Gulliver is a giant with great strength in Lilliput.
Furthermore, what lends Part I its lighthearted atmosphere is Swift’s characteristic “excremental imagination.” Swift focused on the importance of the physical dimension in human identity, and in the Lilliputian section, the stark reality of “eating, drinking, and defecating” is emphasized in relation to Gulliver’s enormous size. When Gulliver first spoke with the Lilliputian minister while tied to a rope, the very first thing he said was that he was hungry. He eats the enormous quantities of food that the Lilliputians have laboriously prepared, then drinks vast amounts of liquid because he is thirsty, and finally, feeling the urge to urinate, releases a tremendous volume of urine—which to the Lilliputians is no different from a waterfall.
Even after Gulliver made the ruined temple his home, one of his biggest problems was how to dispose of his copious feces. Furthermore, the incident in which he hastily extinguished a fire in the Empress’s palace with his urine is an episode that no reader of ‘Gulliver’s Travels’ will ever forget.
It is a well-known fact from experience that young children instinctively love stories about poop and pee, and this prominent excretory imagery in Lilliput helps create a lighthearted and humorous atmosphere in the early part of Book One. The reason the journey to Lilliput is invariably included in ‘Gulliver’s Travels’ as children’s literature—and remains so vividly etched in readers’ minds—is likely due not so much to the satire of 18th-century British politics and religion, but rather to children’s identification with the mighty giant Gulliver, their childlike enthusiasm for stories involving excrement and urine, and the memories those stories evoke.
Brozdingnak and Gulliver’s Identity
Unlike the somewhat lighthearted Lilliputian journey, the journey to the land of the giants, Brozdingnak, is, from Gulliver’s perspective, entirely a story of the struggle for survival. In Lilliput, the generous and easygoing Gulliver looked down upon the petty and malicious Lilliputians’ intrigues and ambitions with satire; in Brobdingnag, however, Gulliver is nothing more than a small animal or insect forced to fight for his life against rats and flies. Furthermore, from the perspective of the giants—including the benevolent King of Brobdingnag—Gulliver’s arrogance and cruelty are presented as major targets of satire.
The satire in Part 2, set in Brobdingnag, takes two directions. First, when viewed from the giants’ vantage point, there comes a point where notions of right and wrong, or superiority and inferiority, among humans—mere specks of dust—become meaningless. For example, at a Brobdingnag farmer’s house, Gulliver proposes a toast of thanks to the hostess for the food served and eats with a fork and knife to demonstrate that he is a cultured man from a civilized nation; however, from the giant’s perspective, this is merely the behavior of a cute and astonishing toy doll.
On the other hand, in Book II, a scathing satire on humanity itself emerges, seemingly foreshadowing Book IV. A prime example is the scene where King Brobdingnag rejects Gulliver’s offer to teach him how to make guns and cannons, declaring, “You humans are the most dreadful race of loathsome vermin that crawl upon the earth.”
Another point worth noting during the journey to Brobdingnag is the issue of Gulliver’s identity. As one might easily imagine, in the land of the giants, Gulliver repeatedly experiences being treated not as a human but as a small animal or a toy due to his small stature. Gradually, he internalizes the giants’ perspective, and eventually, his self-esteem plummets to the point where he cannot bear to look in a mirror, leading him to despise himself. This can also be described as a “metamorphosis.” Just as Gregor Samsa in Kafka’s novel ‘The Metamorphosis’ discovers one morning that he has turned into a bug, Gulliver, too, experiences a sense of bodily transformation—not because his physical form has changed, but because the community to which he belongs has shifted.
In Menippean satire, transformation—or becoming a being different from oneself (an inferior one)—is a key theme, as it leads to new experiences and, through them, the acquisition of a new identity. This is also the point where Menippean satire diverges from epic poetry, which features heroes like Odysseus who ultimately preserve their identity no matter what adventures they undertake. Gulliver’s severe loss of identity—as he becomes a dwarf, a puppet, or an insect-like creature in Brobdingnag—also foreshadows the Gulliver who returns from Houyhnhnm and becomes half-mad.
When Choi Nam-seon excerpted and adapted ‘Gulliver’s Travels’ for publication in the inaugural issue of ‘Boy’ in 1908, he chose to feature the Brobdingnag section (“The Adventures in Brobdingnag: Gulliver’s Travels, Volume 2”)—rather than Part 1, “Lilliput”—was perhaps due to the close connection between Gulliver’s identity, reduced to that of a lowly subject, and the bleak circumstances faced by Koreans during the late Joseon period.
Laputa and Critique of Modernity
In Part 3 of ‘Gulliver’s Travels’, in addition to the flying island of Laputa, various other lands appear, such as Balnibarbi—a colonial territory beneath the island—the land of the magicians, Glubdubdrib, and the land of the immortal Struldbrugs, Lucknak. In these places, Gulliver primarily remains in the role of an observer or chronicler rather than the protagonist of the adventure. Interestingly, these fantastical lands are depicted as being located next to real countries like Japan, and the East Sea is even labeled “Sea of Corea” in the illustrations.
Despite this diversity, if there is one theme that runs through Book 3, it is reflection on—or criticism of—the modern values that were sweeping in during Swift’s time. First, the Laputans regard only mathematics and music as the highest forms of learning; they cannot hear or speak without their “Flapper” servants; and they are indifferent to others, absorbed solely in their own world—a caricature of modern people lacking the ability and will to communicate. The strangely shaped Laputans, perpetually weighed down by worries, form a ruling class that governs Balnibarbi—the territory beneath the island—while remaining trapped in their own narrow, individual worlds, having cast aside practicality and community.
Critique of Modernity and Political Satire
Through Lord Munody—an idealized figure representing conservatism who is powerless against the relentless advance of modernity—Swift criticizes the attitude of clinging unconditionally and fruitlessly to development alone, an attitude reminiscent of modern development-at-all-costs policies such as the Four Major Rivers Project. The depiction of the Academy of Lagado is a satire of the 18th-century Royal Society of England, scathingly mocking modern scientism—the belief that scientific knowledge can solve all problems. The land of the magicians who summon the dead in “Glubdubdrib” reveals conservative skepticism regarding historical regression and decadence, while the episode featuring the immortal Struldbrugg openly exposes the human desire to live forever in youth and health—particularly the desire for youth and immortality that intensified with the advent of modernity.
An interesting aspect of Part 3 is that the colony of Balnibarbi, located beneath Laputa, parallels the relationship between Britain and Ireland at the time. The episode in which a large-scale rebellion breaks out in the city of Lindalino (symbolizing Dublin) in Balnibarbi against Laputa’s tyranny and exploitation, ultimately ending in victory, is an allegorical reenactment of the British government’s policy toward Ireland—which Swift criticized in his other writings—and the Irish people’s resistance. This episode appeared in the first edition but was later deleted; it was not restored until the late 19th century, when it was sometimes presented in parentheses or as a footnote—a clear indication of how politically sensitive the issue of rebellion in Ireland was at the time.
The Land of the Houyhnhnms
The Land of the Houyhnhnms, where Gulliver finally arrives, is a land of fully rational horses and has generally been understood as a Swiftian utopia. The word “Houyhnhnm” itself carries the etymological meaning of “the perfection of nature.” Their reason differs from human instrumental and deductive reason; it is described as the ability to grasp the essence of any phenomenon immediately, intuitively, and without exception. Consequently, their society lacks concepts such as “opinion,” “discussion,” or “debate,” and since there is no disconnect between appearance and reality, the very concepts of “lies” or “clothing”—which conceals them—do not exist. Furthermore, since the Hui-nim’s reason functions almost as a synonym for “virtue” or “nature,” concepts such as evil or illness do not, in principle, exist in the Hui-nim language (though such concepts are indirectly revealed through contrast with the Yahoos). In Hui-nim society, there is no private interest, no intimate emotions, and no fear of death; there is spoken language but no written language, and there is absolutely no possibility of social mobility.
On the opposite end of the spectrum are the Yahoos. Depicted as hideous, greedy, and wicked beings possessing “perfect human bodies,” they have traditionally been interpreted as one of the most repulsive portrayals of humanity itself. Just as humans command horses in the human world, in the land of the Houyhnhnms, the Yahoos are in a position of servitude to the Houyhnhnms and, lacking language, can only howl. If we view the Land of the Houyhnhnms as a world where the relationship between humans and horses is reversed, this lends weight to the interpretation that the entire fourth part is a scathing satire on humans who are worse than beasts.
However, there are problems with this traditional understanding of the Houyhnhnms and the Yahoos. First, there has long been a debate among scholars as to whether the Houyhnhnms are truly ideal beings or merely objects of irony. Even if the Hui-nim’s reason represents the utopian rationality Swift envisioned, their limited understanding of reality, their arrogance, and the image of a horse sitting on its hindquarters ultimately come across as ridiculous and cause the reader to distance themselves from the characters.
Above all, the moment the relationship between the master, the Houyhnhnms, and their servants, the Yahoos, appears to mirror that between British rulers and the indigenous people of Ireland, the simplistic interpretation—that the Houyhnhnms represent pure reason while the Yahoos satirize evil humans—collapses. In particular, in the “Grand Assembly” scene in Chapter 9, it is revealed that Hui-nim—who claims by nature to hate no one—has in fact vehemently “hated” the Yahoos and has long debated whether to exterminate them. The reasons they put forward—such as the Yahoos’ trivial encroachment on their property—are somewhat weak and bizarre; here, the reader can sense, even if only briefly, a parallel with British history—the history of massacring the indigenous people of Ireland and turning the island into a colony—lurking beneath Huinun’s serene exterior.
Ultimately, the reader comes to view the Land of the Houyhnhnms not through the Houyhnhnms’ eyes, but through those of the Yahoos, and momentarily accepts the argument that the Land of the Houyhnhnms was, in fact, the Land of the Yahoos. The Houyhnhnms not only hate the Yahoos but also fear them, as evidenced by Gulliver’s expulsion. Gulliver, who had sought to admire and emulate the Houyhnhnms’ virtues, was driven out of the Houyhnhnm Kingdom out of fear that he might incite the Yahoos to revolt. Gulliver, who had tried to walk and speak like a horse in an effort to emulate the Houyhnhnms, barely managed to return home after his exile. However, unable to endure the presence and smell of humans (Yahoos), he survives by conversing with and enduring the scent of the horses in the stable, gradually transforming into a misanthrope.
The Issue of Women and the Conclusion
The final issue to examine is the portrayal of women in the work. Swift is often classified as a misogynist, and since he frequently offered scathing critiques of women’s vanity and hypocrisy, there is an aspect of his work that falls within the framework of misogynistic discourse. However, even setting aside the biographical fact that many women of his time—who possessed a thirst for knowledge and independence—followed Swift, the portrayal of women in ‘Gulliver’s Travels’ possesses a complex and ambivalent context that cannot be reduced to mere misogyny.
First, considering the education of women within Lilliput’s “utopian” educational system, its core lies in ensuring that women, just like men, are ashamed of being “cowards or fools” and strive for honor, justice, courage, humility, tolerance, religion, and patriotism rather than physical adornment. Of course, women also learn the principles necessary for domestic life, with the goal of becoming “rational and cheerful” wives. While these goals share similarities with the traditional dichotomy between the Virgin Mary and Eve, or the Victorian ideal of the “angel of the household,” there are also differences. However, since education in Lilliput is strictly class-based, this form of women’s education is limited to upper-class women.
At first glance, the portrayal of women in Laputa might appear to fall under misogynistic discourse, but when examined within the broader context, it becomes clear that the true target of the satire is not women, but rather men.
The wife of a high-ranking official in Laputa flees her wealthy but stifling upper-class life to escape to the poor and desolate land of Balnibarbi. There, she lives with her old husband—who wears rags and limps—until she is captured and summoned back to Laputa; however, she eventually gathers her jewels and returns to Balnibarbi, where she goes into hiding. Gulliver interprets this as “a woman’s caprice,” but considering that her husband is a selfish and indifferent Laputan who is so absorbed in his own affairs that communication is impossible, there is clearly room to interpret this woman’s actions as a courageous choice to seek freedom and vitality.
Jonathan Swift is a wild, untamed writer. His childlike imagination excites readers, his scathing satire of social injustice is deeply satisfying, and his work has the power to make us fundamentally reflect on human life. It’s safe to say that the author’s invitation—for readers to experience the thrill of riding a tiger’s back while reading ‘Gulliver’s Travels’—remains as valid today as ever.