AI Translation Is Killing Chinese Literature (And That's Actually Good)

When ChatGPT translated a passage from Mo Yan's Red Sorghum, it turned “高粱地里的风声” into “the sound of wind in the sorghum fields.” Which is technically correct, but it’s stripped of the cultural contexts and language brilliance of the original. The phrase evokes a little more than just wind… the cadence of rural life, the intimacy of memory, and the sense of a world on Chinese soil. The AI version conveys the meaning clearly to a global audience, but some of the original’s earthy resonance is inevitably lost.

This is happening to all of Chinese literature. And honestly? It might be the best thing that's ever happened to it.

In 2024 alone, China Literature's translation output exceeded everything they had published in previous years combined with the help of AI. Nearly half (42%) of WebNovel's top 100 global bestsellers now come from AI translation pipelines.

Whereas overseas readership of Chinese web novels surged by over 50% in a single year, reaching 352 million readers and generating three-quarters of a billion dollars in revenue. Spanish-language editions have more than tripled, while European markets that barely had any Chinese literature suddenly have hundreds of titles available.

What's driving this boom isn't just "better technology," though. It's a perfect storm of global curiosity about Chinese stories (thank you, Three-Body Problem and streaming's appetite for international content), AI translation tools that finally sound less like robots, and Chinese web novel platforms realizing they had a pile of untranslated content ready to be transformed.

Before AI translation, Chinese literature lived in a publishing ghetto. A few dozen works per year made it into English, chosen by Western publishers who played it safe with "universal" themes. Brilliant authors writing hyperlocal stories never had a shot. The gatekeepers decided their voices were "too Chinese" for global audiences. Nevertheless, as of 2024, 2,000 AI-translated Chinese works have hit global markets, a 20-fold increase. Readers in Brazil are binge-reading web novels about Chinese office politics, while Spanish speakers are devouring stories about gaokao stress and tiger parents. The appetite was always there; we just needed the supply.

Consider Liu Cixin's success. The Three-Body Problem was an international sensation, not despite its Chinese elements, but because it tells a fundamentally compelling story. Yes, his prose is "pre-translated," but that's precisely why it translates well via AI. The cultural details (Cultural Revolution backdrop, Chinese academic politics) enhance rather than weigh down the sci-fi narrative. And AI translation is creating thousands more "Liu Cixin effects." Authors who write in accessible and plot-driven styles are finding their way to a global audience.

The very simplification that purists decry, "We're losing authenticity!" has an undeniable upside. They ignore that 99.9% of non-Chinese readers never had access to that authenticity anyway. Before AI translation, maybe 200 Chinese works got English translations per year, hand-selected by Western publishers who thought they knew what global audiences wanted. Those who argue "Human translators are better!" Sure, when you can find them. Research shows human translators produce slightly higher accuracy scores than AI, but there are maybe 50 professional Chinese-English literary translators in the world versus millions of works waiting for translation. It's like arguing that handmade shoes are better than factory-made ones while most of the world goes barefoot.

Just like subtitles made foreign films more accessible, AI translation is changing how we read foreign literature. Netflix didn't make Squid Game worse by subtitling it; they gave it a global audience. AI translation is doing the same for Chinese literature, flaws and all.

Last week, I read an AI-translated Chinese web novel about a time-traveling programmer who debugs historical events. It was ridiculous, poorly translated, but absolutely addictive. I never would have discovered it through traditional publishing.

What Chinese stories are you discovering through AI translation? Are we losing something essential, or finally accessing what was always there?