“The infinite curve is an abstraction of the universe, with an infinite past at one end and an infinite future at the other, with only random fluctuations and inanimate patterns in between.”¹ This is how Ye Wenjie thought of the cosmic radio wave shown on the screen at Red Coast Base, the same as always, cruel, tedious, and not even matter, just like humans. We, humans, only exist for one second in the long history of the universe. And we are a lonely species in the universe as far as we know. We hear nothing live from our universe except the long and random cosmic radio waves going on forever. The Three-Body Problem is a pinnacle of Chinese science fiction. It explores human civilization, the discovery of the universe, and the creation of a new world. The Three-Body Problem is a trilogy with a series of three books—Remembrance of the Earth’s Past, Dark Forest, and Death’s End—written by Chinese science fiction writer Liu Cixin. It unfolds a picture of human and cosmic civilizations from three dimensions and challenges the idea of anthropocentrism. 

This novel starts in the time of China’s Cultural Revolution and takes the reader on a mystical cosmic tale. In the novel, the story begins with Ye Wenjie witnessing the brutal killing of her father, a physicist, by the Red Guards because the theory of relativity betrayed science. This event profoundly shapes Ye’s worldview, leading her down a path of deep disillusionment with humanity. Years later, Ye Wenjie became a key figure in Red Coast Base: a secret Chinese military project to make first contact with potential extraterrestrial civilizations using radio waves. In one such key moment, unwarranted cynicism towards mankind drove her to do the following: she sent a message into space, to which there came an unexpected response from an alien civilization, Trisolaris. The Trisolaran three suns contain a pretty chaotic ecological environment and the inhabitants of its solar system look towards the stable environment of the Earth as a perfect new home, having destroyed their home planet through continuous civil strife and environmental collapse. 

The trilogy then moves to a modern perspective in which a researcher of nanomaterials, Wang Miao, is wrapped up in a mysterious and seemingly supernatural global conspiracy. He finds earthlings with scientists, military men, and radical environmentalists all coming under the banner of the secretive and diverse Earth-Trisolaris Organization (ETO). The ETO believes that the Trisolarans will bring a new order to Earth that will solve all of humanity’s problems. It turns out that Ye Wenjie is actually the leader of this organization. 

At first glance, Ye Wenjie obviously seems to be a totally pessimistic, cynical, evil person due to the leading impression that she wants to destroy human civilization through the introduction of the Trisolarans. In Stephen Benedict Dyson’s article, “Images of International Politics in Chinese Science Fiction: Liu Cixin’s Three-Body Problem,” he borrows the three international relations/images from Kenneth Waltz. “By image, Waltz meant a device to: 1) to enable one to “see” which cannot be directly perceived; 2) to bound the realm of activity one wants to explain; 3) to filter out those aspects of thought and action not essential to the coherent understanding of international events. His images are . . . regarded as interpretations of political activity . . . ”² The first-image considers human nature “as selfish, aggressive, and perhaps ultimately evil. For realist ‘first-image pessimists,’ human nature is irredeemable and unchanging. A more optimistic first-image analysis . . . posits that peace can be achieved if societies can be elevated above selfish concerns and innate human qualities of reason and empathy are nurtured.”³ Ye Wenjie is considered as a first-image pessimist. Her betrayal of the human species is rooted in the loss of hope over humanity’s “evil side.”⁴ In Dyson’s and most other scholars’ articles, like Jeff Dories’s and Li Guangyi’s, Ye is roughly described as cynical and evil. However, only depicting Ye as a first-image pessimist is not enough to understand this character as a whole and the evidence shown in Dyson’s article has not been fully analyzed. There are also a large number of traits related to her narcissism uncovered in her spoken words, behaviors, and choices. I agree that she is a first-image pessimist but also, to a further extent, argue that her narcissistic qualities prompted her different choices in the novel, and it’s better to utilize the term “narcissist”—viewing others as objects instead of subjects—to incorporate more aspects of the character rather than merely “pessimist.” Besides, the term “narcissism” can, from another angle, unravel Liu’s challenge of anthropocentrism, the human species’ narcissism, as discussed in Dories’s article. While Ye Wenjie is undoubtedly a central character in Liu’s Three-Body trilogy, she has been regarded as cynical, radical, and evil in many scholars’ articles when writing about her and this novel. Oddly, even though the author takes up a lot of space in the novel to describe her life experience and personality in detail and many characters in the story appear because of her, there is little in depth analysis of this character from a broader perspective. Nonetheless, understanding a more complex blend of motives stemming from personal trauma and disillusionment with humanity behind Ye Wenjie’s character would help to comprehend a broader meaning that also incorporates Liu’s attempts to challenge anthropocentrism, humanity’s narcissism, in this work of science fiction. Labeling Ye Wenjie from Liu Cixin’s The Three-Body Problem as a narcissist rather than merely a pessimist can offer a deeper psychological insight into her characteristics and motivations, particularly when considering her dramatic actions and the overarching narrative of the story. Both “narcissist” and “pessimist” provide different perspectives, but this paper will examine how Ye is regarded as a narcissist and why this term might be more fitting and revealing since it also incorporates Liu’s anti-anthropocentrism as analyzed in Dories’s article, “Decentring anthropocentric narcissism: The Novum and the EcoGothic in Cixin Liu’s The Three-Body Problem and Ball Lightning.”

Dyson’s description of Ye as a first-image pessimist is inadequate and controversial. In Dyson’s article, he expands the field of political science fiction studies and includes an important non-Western work, The Three-Body Problem. Using Kenneth N. Waltz’s three depictions of international relations as a lens, Dyson examines the Three-Body series and uncovers several similarities across the works. The first-image is that the cause of war is human nature, mediated through the thoughts and actions of individuals—usually statespersons.⁵ “For realist “first-image pessimists,” human nature is irredeemable and unchanging. A more optimistic first-image analysis, associated with the IR theory of idealism, posits that peace can be achieved if societies can be elevated above selfish concerns and innate human qualities of reason and empathy are nurtured.”⁶ He states that Ye Wenjie is a first-image pessimist. He considers this quote as evidence showing that Ye is a pessimist: “Come here! I will help you conquer this world. Our civilization is no longer capable of solving its own problems. We need your force to intervene.”⁷ However, there is an issue related to potential controversy advocating that Ye is an optimist. After witnessing the horrors and betrayals during the Cultural Revolution, Ye Wenjie becomes deeply disillusioned with humanity. Nonetheless, her subsequent actions are not merely to escape or isolate herself but to actively seek an intervention that could potentially reset human civilization: “We need your force to intervene.” This actually shows that she is a first-image optimist who holds expectations that peace can be achieved if humans’ current conditions can be improved by the intervention of the aliens. Ye Wenjie uses the Red Coast Base’s capabilities to send a message to the Trisolaran civilization, and upon receiving a reply warning her not to answer, she chooses to invite them to Earth anyway. After the establishment of Earth-Trisolaris Organization, she says, “It is no longer possible for human society to solve its own problems by itself, nor to restrain its own madness by itself; Therefore, the Lord should be invited to come to the world and, with the help of his power, carry out mandatory supervision and transformation of human society in order to create a new, bright and perfect human civilization.”⁸ This reflects her belief that any change, even one brought by an alien civilization, would be better than the current state of human affairs. Her action suggests optimism about the potential for improvement in human conditions, driven by an external force that she perceives as more advanced and possibly more divine just by calling the Trisolaris “Lord” and believing they can make human society a greater world. This fits the definition of the first-image optimist. Thus, it is controversial that using Dyson’s analysis, she can also be interpreted as an optimist, rather than a pessimist. There needs to be further analysis of Ye to show a bigger picture.

Pessimism generally refers to a tendency to see the worst aspect of things or believe that the worst can not be improved into the better. While Ye Wenjie certainly displays pessimism, especially about the prospects of humanity and its moral and ethical standards, her actions go beyond mere negative expectations. Narcissism involves a deeper psychological construct that includes aspects like self-centeredness and a lack of empathy, considering others as objects, not subjects. To further unpack this in psychoanalytic terms, the “subject” generally refers to the self or the individual as perceived from within, and the “object” usually refers to the target or recipient of the subject’s drives, emotions, or desires. This can be another person (like a parent, partner, or friend) or even a part of oneself. These traits can better explain not just her negative outlook but also her profound and active steps to undermine or control human destiny, aligning her beliefs with actions that have far-reaching consequences.

Jacques Lacan also illustrates ideas about narcissism in “The Mirror Stage as Formative of the Function of the I as Revealed in Psychoanalytic Experience.” In Lacan’s mirror stage theory, a young child identifies with his image (what Lacan terms the “Ideal-I” or “ideal ego”), and it takes place at about six to eighteen months of age.⁹ This act, for Lacan, marks the primordial recognition of oneself as “I,” though at a point before entrance into language and the symbolic order.¹⁰ This misrecognition—seeing an idealized I where there is a fragmented, chaotic body—will then come to “characterize the ego in all its structures.”In summary, Lacan’s concept of the mirror stage involves the formation of the ego through the identification with one’s own image, which is both idealized and external. This process introduces a gap between one’s perceived and actual self, which contributes to one’s narcissism. Ye Wenjie’s early experiences of betrayal, particularly by humanity and authority figures, have disrupted her ability to form a stable ego, reinforcing a narcissistic response where her own ideals and beliefs become distortedly overvalued to compensate for a profound sense of disillusionment. Furthermore, Ye Wenjie’s life is marked by profound traumas, including political persecution during the Cultural Revolution, the execution of her father, and betrayal by Bai Mulin. These events likely contribute to a fractured sense of self, just as Ye described the falling of a large tree as her father’s fragmented body, “She picked up her ax and saw and began to clear the branches from the trunk . . . she felt as though she were cleaning the corpse of a giant. Sometimes she even imagined the giant was her father . . . when she cleaned her father’s dead body in the mortuary . . . the splits and cracks in the larch bark seemed to turn into old scars and new wounds covering her father.”¹¹ For Ye Wenjie, the traumatic visualization of her father’s beaten and lifeless body could symbolize a profound disruption in her psychological development, leading to a “fractured self.” The mirror stage not only involves recognition but also misrecognition; the individual perceives an idealized, whole image that is composed of both self and others’ influences. In Ye Wenjie’s case, the trauma could have prevented her from integrating this image into a stable sense of self. Instead, her father’s destroyed body represents the shattered image of an ideal, both personally—her father as her role model and protector—and ideologically—her faith in the humanistic values he stood for. Hence, it is reasonable to speculate that Ye Wenjie constructs an idealized self-image as a way to regain control and coherence. This self is not just a scientist but a pivotal figure in determining the fate of humanity, aligning with the self-centeredness often found in narcissism.

In Donald Woods Winnicott’s theory of the “True Self” and the “False Self” in “6. The Use of an Object and Relating through Identifications,” his definitions and descriptions provide a foundational understanding of how he viewed personal development and psychological health, and Ye can be seen as a narcissist by fitting in the definition of his theory. The “True Self” is represented as a sense of self-based on spontaneous and real feelings and experiences as a person, characterized by its ability to feel real and interact with the objects in the world.¹² The “False Self” is a defensive and protective surface, guarding the “True Self” against the threat of annihilation from environmental failures or lack of attunement from caregivers.¹³ For Ye Wenjie, the “False Self” develops as a protective mechanism against the harsh realities of her environment. The severe trauma of her father’s death, her own imprisonment, and the betrayal by her peers and authorities likely led her to create a facade that conforms to external expectations to avoid further persecution. In addition, the survival of the objects plays a crucial role. If the object survives the subject’s destruction, the subject will reach the “True Self.” If the object doesn’t survive, the subject will maintain its “False Self” and fail to relate to and use the object, leading to narcissism.¹⁴ In other words, when the “True Self” is not adequately supported, and the False Self dominates, the individual may fail to relate genuinely to others and use objects (people) appropriately, which are characteristics of narcissistic behavior. The decision to kill her husband and Lei Zhicheng (destruction and the failure of the survival of the objects), and her description of feeling “calm,” “didn’t feel anything,” “doesn’t care,” and “this is only an insignificant start”¹⁵ reveals that she fails to relate to the objects and sees human lives as objects instead of subjects. This is an evident view of objects and the failure of the survival of the objects keeps her immersed in her “False Self.” This emotional isolation and the inability to relate to the objects strongly suggest that she is a narcissist.

Furthermore, her narcissism can also be seen in Li Guangyi’s article. Li’s article “The Decision of Luo Ji: The Existentialist Connotation and the Cultural Revelation of The Three-Body Problem” posits that he is an irresponsible and cynical person, as is described by the following quote: “Your research is utilitarian, your techniques opportunistic, you seek out sensationalism, and you have a history of embezzling funding.”¹⁶ Even though he is a person who doesn’t care about human survival, Ye suggests that he should explore cosmic sociology, which is a vital field that is unexplored and may help humans prevent the invasion of the Trisolars. Inspired by Ye, Luo Ji founded this field of study, cosmic sociology. As he became more famous and gained success with his theories, he was chosen to be the Swordholder and Wallfacer, which both directly affect the fate of humans. When he was a Wallfacer, he utilized all the resources and money that had been provided only to enjoy his life and be apathetic. His response, “Isn’t it the way things are these days?”¹⁷ reveals that “he did not reflect on the absurd existence around him but happily went with the flow, deceiving himself . . . He gave up resisting surroundings and sought his real self.”¹⁸ Also, by placing Luo Ji in such a pivotal role, Ye Wenjie shows a striking lack of empathy for both Luo Ji, since her decision regarding Luo Ji’s involvement in the unfolding cosmic drama, essentially manipulating his life without his informed consent, and the broader human population, since she places an unreliable person in a pivotal role that potentially affects the fate of humanity. This disregard for the profound risks to others highlights her narcissistic focus on her objectives over the well-being of individuals or humanity as a whole. Additionally, Ye Wenjie’s actions could be viewed as an experiment with humanity’s fate at stake. Choosing Luo Ji, largely untested in political or military leadership, is a gamble. Her decision to bet on an irresponsible person rather than a proven leader can be seen as using the crisis as a laboratory to test her hypotheses about civilization and cosmic sociology. This approach risks humanity’s survival on a theoretical bet, prioritizing her need for intellectual validation over more conservative approaches that might prioritize safety. Thus, it further proved her narcissism due to the risk to the human species by gambling on Luo Ji.

Using narcissism to describe Ye Wenjie can also incorporate the attempts of anti-anthropocentrism (anti-human-narcissism) in this novel. As Liu Cixin has written in his article “Beyond Narcissism: What SF Can Offer Literature,” “If one were to see all of time—from the birth of the universe to now—as a single year, humanity would emerge in the very last second.”¹⁹ However, with all the knowledge we know about the universe, “we are the only intelligent life form, which grants humanity some cause for narcissism.”²⁰ As he explores the possibilities of decentering anthropocentrism (the narcissism of the human species) in this novel, the narcissism of Ye also contributes to this progress. Ye Wenjie’s actions, particularly her willingness to communicate with the Trisolarans and to betray Earth’s interests, can be seen as narcissistic in the sense that she places her own judgment and values above the well-being of her species. From an anti-anthropocentric perspective, her decision to prioritize extraterrestrial interests over human ones could be seen as a critique of human centrality, which is that humanity is not a dominant force, but a player of many in a larger and more dangerous cosmic game. Meanwhile, it also emphasizes her narcissism—she alone decides humanity is unworthy, elevating her personal judgments to a cosmic scale. In Dories’s article, he argues that “Liu has . . . in his novel in order to challenge anthropocentrism.”²¹ By showing Ye’s different narcissistic actions and inhuman ideology, it smoothly unravels the idea of anti-anthropocentrism as she contacts the Trisolarans and puts her species into chaos, showing the narcissism within humanity as a whole. This further suggests that instead of calling Ye a pessimist, narcissist would be a more comprehensive term to incorporate more dimensions in this SF work.

In conclusion, looking through the lens of Dyson’s analysis of Ye, borrowing from Waltz’s theory of three international relations, “pessimist”, which sees human nature inherently as selfish and irredeemable, is an insufficient label. Instead, Ye’s actions are better understood through the lens of narcissism. Her decisions in the novel are influenced by a narcissistic view of her own importance and judgments. By utilizing several theoretical frameworks to analyze Ye’s character, including Dyson’s interpretation of international relations, Lacan’s mirror stage theory, Winnicott’s theory of the “True Self” and “False Self,” I illustrated how her traumatic experiences and pivotal role in contacting an alien civilization reflect a complex psychological profile that blends pessimism and narcissism. In addition, by incorporating the anti-anthropocentric themes in Liu’s and Dories’ work, I posit that Ye’s willingness to prioritize extraterrestrial interests over human ones, can be seen both as a critique of human centrality and an extension of her narcissistic traits. Reinterpreting Ye Wenjie’s motivations, and advocating for a deeper understanding of this character that considers both her psychological complexities and her significant impact on the novel’s overarching narrative, can help readers reach a broader understanding of various disciplines such as psychology, sociology, history, and ethics. Reflecting on these disciplines enriches readers’ understanding of the novel by unveiling the nuanced layers of Ye Wenjie’s character and Liu’s intent to explore the complexities of human nature and anti-anthropocentrism.

1. Cixin Liu, The Three-Body Problem (Tor Books, 2016), 311.
2. Stephen Benedict Dyson, “Images of international politics in Chinese science fiction: Liu Cixin’s Three-Body Problem,” New Political Science 41, no. 3 (July 3, 2019): 465,
3. Dyson, “Images,” 465.
4. Dyson, 466.
5. Dyson, “Images,” 465.
6. Dyson, “Images,” 465.
7. Liu, The Three-Body Problem, 315-16.
8. Liu, The Three-Body Problem, 289.
9. Jacques Lacan, “The Mirror Stage as Formative of the Function of the I as Revealed in Psychoanalytic Experience,” Écrits (W. W. Norton & Company, 2006), 75-6.
10. Lacan, “The Mirror Stage,” 76.
11. Liu, The Three-Body Problem, 114.
12. Donald Woods Winnicott, “6. The Use of an Object and Relating through Identifications,” Playing and Reality (Tavistock Publications, 1971), 90.
13. Winnicott, “The Use of an Object,” 91.
14. Winnicott, “The Use of an Object,” 91.
15. Liu, The Three-Body Problem, 330.
16. Liu, The Three-Body Problem, 748.
17. Liu, The Three-Body Problem, 748.
18. Guangyi Li, “The Decision of Luo Ji: The Existentialist Connotation and the Cultural Revelation of The Three-Body Problem,” Frontiers of Literary Studies in China 14, no. 2 (Apr. 2020): 184.
19. Cixin Liu, et al. “Beyond narcissism: What science fiction can offer literature,” Science Fiction Studies 40, no. 1 (2013), 22.
20. Liu, “Beyond narcissism,” 22.
21. Dories, “Decentering anthropocentric narcissism,” 110.