Approaches to World Literature Weltliteraturen World Literatures

Home , Comparative Literature, Damrosch (horse), Erich Auerbach, Hellenization, Hiromi Kawakami, History of literature

Approaches to World Literature WeltLiteraturen World Literatures

Band 1

Schriftenreihe der Friedrich Schlegel Graduiertenschule für literaturwissenschaftliche Studien

Herausgegeben von Irmela Hijiya-Kirschnereit, Stefan Keppler-Tasaki und Joachim Küpper

Wissenschaftlicher Beirat Nicholas Boyle (University of Cambridge), Elisabeth Bronfen (Universität Zürich), Hans Ulrich Gumbrecht (Stanford University), Renate Lachmann (Universität Konstanz), Kenichi Mishima (Osaka University), Glenn W. Most (Scuola Normale Superiore Pisa /University of Chicago) ,Jean-Marie Schaeffer (EHESS Paris), Janet A. Walker (Rutgers University), David Wellbery (University of Chicago), Christopher Young (University of Cambridge) Joachim Küpper (Ed.)

Approaches to World Literature

Akademie Verlag An electronic version of this book is freely available, thanks to the support of libra- ries working with Knowledge Unlatched. KU is a collaborative initiative designed to make high quality books Open Access. More information about the initiative can be found at www.knowledgeunlatched.org

This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 4.0 License, as of February 20, 2018. For details go to http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/.

ISBN 978-3-11-021808-4An electronic version of this book is freely available, thanks to the support of libra- e-ISBN (PDF) 978-3-11-021809-1ries working with Knowledge Unlatched. KU is a collaborative initiative designed to e-ISBN (EPUB) 978-3-11-021806-2make high quality books Open Access. More information about the initiative can be ISSN 0179-0986found at www.knowledgeunlatched.org e-ISSN 0179-3256

Cover picture: Typus orbis terrarum, copper engraving, colored, 1571. akg-images. Cover design: hauser lacour This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 License, ACasIP of catalogueFebruary 23, record 2017. for For this details book go is to available http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/. from the Library of Congress, Washington D.C., USA.

BibliographicLibrary of Congress information Cataloging-in-Publication published by the German Data National Library A CIP catalog record for this book has been applied for at the Library of Congress. The German National Library lists this publication in the Deutsche Nationalbibliografie; detailed bibliographic data are available on the Internet at http://dnb.dnb.de. Bibliografische Information der Deutschen Nationalbibliothek Die Deutsche Nationalbibliothek verzeichnet diese Publikation in der Deutschen Nationalbibliogra- This work is subject to copyright. All rights are reserved, whether the whole or part of the material is fie; detaillierte bibliografische Daten sind im Internet über concerned, specifically the rights of translation, reprinting, re-use of illustrations, recitation, broadcas- http://dnb.dnb.de abrufbar. ting, reproduction on microfilms or in other ways, and storage in databases. For any kind of use,permission© 2016 of the Walter copyright de Gruyter owner GmbH, must Berlin/Boston be obtained. Druck und Bindung: Duck & Co., Ortsname ©2♾ 013Gedruckt Akademie auf säurefreiem Verlag GmbH Papier www.degruyter.de/akademiePrinted in Germany Part of De Gruyter www.degruyter.com PrintedISBN 978-3-11-021808-4 in Germany e-ISBN (PDF) 978-3-11-021809-1 e-ISBN (EPUB) 978-3-11-021806-2 This paper is resistant to aging (DIN/ISO 9706). ISSN 0179-0986 e-ISSN 0179-3256 ISBN 978-3-05-006271-6 eISBN 978-3-05-006495-6

This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 License, as of February 23, 2017. For details go to http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data A CIP catalog record for this book has been applied for at the Library of Congress.

Bibliografische Information der Deutschen Nationalbibliothek Die Deutsche Nationalbibliothek verzeichnet diese Publikation in der Deutschen Nationalbibliogra- fie; detaillierte bibliografische Daten sind im Internet über http://dnb.dnb.de abrufbar.

www.degruyter.com

Bereitgestellt von | De Gruyter / TCS Angemeldet Heruntergeladen am | 12.02.18 14:57 Content

Joachim Küpper Preface...... 7 Jérôme David The Four Genealogiesof“World Literature”...... 13 Robert J. C. Young World Literature andLanguage Anxiety...... 27 Jane O. Newman Auerbach’s Dante: Poetical Theology as aPointofDeparture for aPhilology of WorldLiterature...... 39 AymanA.El-Desouky BeyondSpatiality: Theorising the Local andUntranslatability as Comparative CriticalMethod...... 59 David Damrosch GlobalScripts and the Formation of Literary Traditions ...... 85 Vilashini Cooppan Codes for World Literature:Network Theory and the Field Imaginary...... 103 C. Rajendran The Actualand theImagined: Perspectivesand Approachesin IndianClassical Poetics...... 121 Irmela Hijiya-Kirschnereit On Bookstores,Suicides, and theGlobal Marketplace: East Asia in the Context of WorldLiterature...... 133 6 Content

Mitsuyoshi Numano Shifting Borders in Contemporary Japanese Literature: Toward aThird Vision ...... 147 JoachimKüpper Some Remarks on World Literature...... 167 Notes on Contributors ...... 177 JOACHIM KÜPPER Preface: Approaches to World Literature

The present volumecontains the revisedversions of papersreadatthe conference “Approaches to WorldLiterature,” generously fundedbythe German Federal Ministry of Educationand Research(BMBF), which took place at theDahlem Humanities Center andthe Friedrich SchlegelGraduate School of Literary Studies in June 2012. Both institutionsare based at theFreie Universität Berlin,Germany, and are dedicated to theinvestigation of theprinciples of culturaldynamics, as well as to an interna- tionally oriented type of comparative literary studies.1 The volumeisthe firstinaseries named“WorldLiteratures” (edd. Irmela Hijiya-Kirschnereit, StefanKeppler-Tasaki and Joachim Küpper),inwhich outstanding dissertations, “second books” written by post- doctoralresearchers, andselectedconferenceproceedings pertainingtothe topic emblematizedinthe series’ title willappearover theyears to come. Theconcept to whichthisvolumeand theseriesasawhole refer,“World Literature,” is frequently associatedwith Goethe’s name, thoughthe central figureofGerman literary history did notcreate it,but ratherhelped popularizing it.Its basicidea, namely that the study of literaturewithin the limits of boundaries defined by specific languagesis largelyinsufficient, seemstobemorerelevant than everinanage of all-encompassing globalization. Present-day endeavors, however, have to go beyond the framesGoetheand his 19th century successors had in mind. They willaim at comprehending as “world literature” not only the texts produced in thelarger Mediterranean world(which reaches fromEgypt to Norway and fromPortugaltothe Euphrates, andhas ramifications com- prisingthe Americas and India); butratherintegrateintoliterary studies also East Asian literatures,especially Japaneseand Chinese. Thereseem to be twodifferentoptions of how to make suchavastcorpus of texts viablewithinliterary studies.One way is to deal withthe texts by way of translations and so-called “world literature readers.”Analternative approach consists in bringing together expertsinawiderange of national literatures, in order to focusonacross-dis-

1 For furtherinformation see:DHC: www.fu-berlin.de/en/sites/dhc; Friedrich Schlegel Graduate School: www.fsgs.fu-berlin.de/en/fsgs 8 JoachimKüpper ciplinary discussionofcertain theoretical tools andconcepts. Take,for instance, the dichotomy of fictional vs. non-fictional:Doesitexist—andifso, how is it shaped withintraditions other than theOccidental ones?Which ways of systematizingthe huge field of textualproductions and practices were developed by non-Western traditions, and how might these various modes of ordering have influencedeachother?Which are theconsequences of amorecalligraphic, or evenanideogrammicscript system on the opposition familiar in the Occidental traditionbetween text andimage?Theseand similar questions arediscussedinthe papers collectedhere. As willbeevident fromthe footnotes of many of the present articles, the discussion of “world literature in our time”has been mainly conductedinUSacademia. Hundreds of articles andsomedozenvolumes have been dedicated to thetopic overthe last thirty years. The reasons for this arenot astonishingatall.Right from its founding, theUnited States have been considering themselves apost-nation State whose constitutional basis is asecularized(Christian) universalism.Over thecenturies, theculturalhybridity of the country has increased in amost impressive way.Within aUSframework it would be difficult to hold today that the literary canon consists onlyoftexts writteninEnglish—with some Classical, Romance andGermantexts added to the mix. Nevertheless, the USA—as the by farmostpowerfulactor on the international scene—are committedtoone specific idiom, namely English, and to astrictlydefined pattern of cultural normsand codes deriving fromCalvinism. It maybeseen againstthe backdropofthis constellation that discussions concerning world literature havesofar beenmarkedbyastrong tendency of countering allpossible reproachesalleging that propagatingsuchaconcept wouldbepart of an attempt to secure, or even strengthen, the dominance of Anglophone cultures in the present-day global arena. The corresponding attitude materializes in almost all publications available, namelyintheir stressingthe importance of includingtexts from non-Western, “minor” and “subaltern”backgrounds into thepanoramatobeconsidered. Frequently,the anti- hegemonic attitude reaches thepoint of conveying, in amoreorless veiled fashion,that the Classical Westerncorecanon better be excluded fromafuture study of world literature. The secondfeature characterizing the scholarly debates so far derives fromwhat I term thephase of Gramscianism in Western intellectual history.With the waning pros- pectsfor a“classical” socialist revolution, theidolofMarxbecamereplacedbyAntonio Gramsci—or rather, by his “new”theorizing of theway to be takeninorder to achieve the goal of an egalitariansociety. Gramsciheldthat, under 20th centuryconditions, the directway of expropriation is no longer possible. The revolution, thecontrol of physical as well as economicpower, has to be preceded by aprocess thatsecures thecontrol overdiscursivepower. Theway in whichasociety speaks andthinks is decisive for the way in which it evolves. Since themoreorless tacitadoptionofGramscianism as afirm groundfor Western (mainstream) intellectualdebates, politicization has become the commontrait of allof Preface 9 these discussions. There is no fieldofscholarshipthatwouldescape this tendencyto conceive thehumanities’research as abattleground, where it is all about conquering discursive terrain. One pivotalpoint of these controversies has been theconcept of identity, meaning that there is alegitimate way of self-conceptionwhich is notbound to the features of “Western,” “male,” “white,” “Judeo-Christian” and“normal” (in terms of sexual orientation). Untilnow,debates on canonhavebeenlargelyabsorbed into this all-encompassing syndromeof“identity as diversity.” The results forthe discussions revolving around worldliterature strictosensu are notatall negligible,and they have beenhighly productive: verysimilar to theanti-hegemonic attitude, theparadigm of (legitimate) diversity hasbrought texts andtraditionsintothe arenathathad hardly been discussed before. While upholding thepositiveresults of past discussions,the conference documented in this volume had the ambition to go beyondrepeating what is availableinthe numerous articles apostrophized above.Different contexts mayproduce differentapproaches to the problems at stake. Within acontinental framework, the hegemonic suspicion, andthe resultant necessity to counterit, is of minor importance.Today,noone would suspect peopleadvocatingthe integration of someFrench, Italian,orGerman texts intoafuture canon of worldliterature to be agents of thesenations, perfidiouslyaiding theirattempt at acceding to global dominance. Moreover, the profileofthe “identity as diversity” debate(though it hadawide resonance in continentalacademia) is less pointed and less polemical withinsocieties that never pretended to be universalistic in thestrict sense. Whilethe main points discussed over thelast decades arepresentinthisvolume, they are herere-focalized in amoreserene (though notanirenic) fashion. The threepapers openingthe volumeconnect present-day discussions to historical backgrounds.Jérôme David (“The Four Genealogies of ‘World Literature’”) beginsby reconsideringthe discussions initiated by Goetheand holds thatthere are four distinct genealogies of the notion:philological, critical, pedagogical andmethodological. Indi- vidualcontributions within this space have, according to David,beencharacterizedbya specific intertwiningoftwo or more of these genealogies. Thefrequent misunder- standings whichpunctuate current debates on world literature may, in part, be dueto incompatible combinations of these intellectual legacies.—Robert J. C. Young (“World Literature andLanguage Anxiety”) also opines thatthe fundamental issues raised by Goethe’s ideas on world literature have notchanged significantly.Goethe’s remarks are inextricably boundupwiththe problem of translation, thecontactbetween nationsor cultures andwith Europe’s globalexpansion.The conceptassuggested in Goetheis contradictoryinsofar as theideaisatonceglobal andEuropean, with theAncient Greeks as theultimate model. It is characterizedbylanguageanxiety as thedominance of LatininEurope (or, later, of French) beginstobreak up as aresultofthe riseofver- nacular literatures. Today—this is Young’s central tenet—theissues are basicallythe same;itisonlytheir formsthat have changed.—Jane O. Newman (“Auerbach’s Dante: Poetical Theology as aPoint of Departure for aPhilology of World Literature”) 10 JoachimKüpper examines one of the first post-Goethean discussions of the concept in Erich Auerbach’s essay, “Philologie der Weltliteratur” (1952). For Auerbach, writing afterthe end of World War II, while the catastrophe of World War Iwas equally present in his mind, thediscussion of howtorefashion Goethe’s nineteenth-century deliberations after half a centuryofglobal warfare was no idle task. For Auerbach, Newman argues,philology was thus politicsbyothermeans. Still, in Auerbach’s mind the politicalphilology of and for thefuturewould(perhaps counter-intuitively)haveits methodological roots not in theapproachheinheritedfrom Goethe, but ratherinamuchmoredistant past, namelythe Thomist poeticaltheologyofDante Alighieri. As we anticipatethe articu- lation of approachestothe study of worldliterature in our ownpost-secular times, we maydowell, Newman opines, to recall the urgency with whichAuerbach turnedto ideas derived fromapre-nationalist, Medieval theology as apointofdeparture for a new philology—and anew politics—of theglobe. The volume’s second section is dedicatedtomore theoretical problems. Ayman A. El- Desouky(“Beyond Spatiality: Theorizing theLocal and Untranslatability as Comparative Critical Method”) focuses on thesignificanceofthe shift from approaching world literature as an “object” of study—after the initial canonizing acts, andmostly through the thematizationofunits of texts—to the conceptualization of analyticproblems behindthe different approaches; that is, to the questionofmethod. By the 1990s, theap- proachesand design of courses andsyllabi hadradially shiftedawayfromRené Wellek’s 1949 charge of “vague, sentimental cosmopolitanism”tostrongly align themselves with current, mainly political, postcolonial andcriticalcultural stances. Nevertheless, the more recent debates concerning theearlier approaches andcanonizing acts ledtoafocus on definitions of the “world” in world literatureand aculture-based ethnographic approachthatundermines the literary nature andaesthetic traditions of non-Europeanliteratures;El-Desouky holdsthatthese haveover-politicized themodes of reception, particularly when it cametothe theory and practice of translation, but indeedcriticalpractices in thehumanities at large. Against thebackdrop of avarietyof literary texts from “other thanWestern” origins,thisessay speaks for the legitimacy of the“local”and for untranslatability.—David Damrosch(“Global Scripts and the Formation of Literary Traditions”) presentswriting systemsasoffering acategory of literary production andcirculationthatcuts across classic categoriesofnationand empire. Writers absorb agreat deal of culturalinformation as they learn ascript, and script systems canform aworld of their own, afield withinwhich literary textscan circulateacross languages, and often across imperial, as well as national boundaries. The paper specifically looks at thespread of cuneiform writing in andbeyondancient Mesopotamia, the introduction of theRoman alphabetinNorthern Europeand colonial New Spain,and thecreation of new script systemsvis-à-vis the classical Chinese systeminKorea andVietnam.—Vilashini Cooppan (“Codes for World Literature: NetworkTheoryand theField Imaginary”) explores how thefieldofnetworktheory, withits roots in world systemstheory, poststructuralistcommunications theory,and Preface 11 posthumanist philosophy,may inflectour understandingoflanguage, literature, history, and cultureindistinctly global ways. Consideredasanetwork system, world literature invitesconsideration of thenonlinear patterns andnodal intensities of literary history, as well as of the affective dimensionsofthe texts in question.Ifnetwork theory directs our attention to the informational code of world literary texts (philology, scriptworlds,print cultures, digitalmedia),italso focuses our investigation on thewaysinwhich these texts condenseparticular historical sensibilities, anxieties, andfeelings of both global and localdimensions. Thepaper illustrates theusefulness of thetheoretical approach suggestedbyturning to TheEpicofGilgamesh,JoanLondon’s Gilgamesh: ANovel, and Neal Stephenson’s cyberpunknovel Snow Crash,atext network spanningvastly differentgeographies, histories, andculturaltraditions. The third sectionisdedicatedtodiscussing theproblem of how to conceive of world literature from adecidedly non-Western perspective. C. Rajendran(“The Actual andthe Imagined:Perspectives andApproaches in Indian Classical Poetics”) draws adetailed panoramaofthe conceptualfigures revolvingaroundcategories labeled, in Occidental terminology, as “literature” and “aesthetics” in the classical (that is,pre-colonial) Indian tradition.Asfor “fiction” and “nonfiction,” “real” and “marvel,” “beauty”and “ugliness,” thereare certainsimilarities, but also decided differencestothe concepts thathavebeen customary in Western debates fromPlato and Aristotle onward. For the discussions conductedwithinWesternacademia, thismix of conceptualconvergenceand divergence might have highly stimulatingeffects—in particular, as Rajendran holds,whenit comes to describing phenomena of present-day literature, bothwritten andvisual.— Irmela Hijiya-Kirschnereit(“OnBookstores, Suicides, and theGlobal Marketplace: East Asia in theContextofWorld Literature”) tackles the problemsemerging froman observationofthe contemporary East Asian book market. She first looksatthe process by which thenotionofworld literaturetookrootinEast Asia, taking Japanasacasein point.Itisastory that is intimately linked with themasternarrative of modern Japanese intellectualand culturalhistory,presented in this essay through several key episodes of modern literature. Thearticle then turns to adiscussion of intra-East Asian andAra- bian-East Asianliterary encounters and their relevance for theconcept of world literature,pointingout thetheoreticalquestionstobediscussedwhen taking into accountphenomena of intercultural exchange not comprising the West.—Mitsuyoshi Numano (“ShiftingBorders in Contemporary JapaneseLiterature: Toward aThird Vision”) startswith theobservationthat Dostoevsky’s impact on modern Japan has beentremendous; butauthors ranging fromShakespearetoTolstoy andKafka havealso been able to attractalargeJapanese readership. In contemporary Japanese literature, writers such as Otohiko Kaga, Kenzaburo Oe,Haruki Murakami, and Masahiko Shimada are well versedinand significantly influencedbyRussian literature. If borders still exist that surroundJapan andthe Japanese language, theseborders have been shifting. For in contemporary “ambiguous”Japan,writers suchasHideoLevy and MinaeMizumurahaveappeared: Levy is an American-born author, writingexclusively 12 JoachimKüpper in Japanese. Mizumuraisfamous for her bilingual novel An I-Novel From Left to Right, which is written in Japanese, butwithaprofusionofuntranslatedEnglishphrases inserted into the body of the Japanesetext. Aftersuch precedents,there has been awhole generation of younger “border-crossing” writers:ShirinNezammafi (fromIran), Yan Yee (fromChina),ArthurBinard(from the USA), and Tian Yuan (from China). All of them choseJapaneseastheir language of literary expression, although Japanese is not their native language. Thanks to the efforts of such writers, non-Japanese readers canliberate themselves, suggests Numano, from the idée fixe of exoticOriental literature, andac- ceptJapanese culture on thecommonplatform of thecontemporaryworld. World literature is amachine in perpetual motion that moves between the two poles of univer- salityand diversity. The paper “SomeRemarks on World Literature,” with which thevolumeconcludes and which is authoredbymyself, is deliberatelysomewhat polemical. It addresses the ethnographicapproachthathas been very influential in debatesconcerningworld literature over thelast two or three decades. In particular, it problematizes thethesis that there is asort of linkbetween ethnicand cultural belonging.Italso scrutinizes critically the classicalMarxian thesis of the dominatingculture as the culture of thedominant class or nation, advocating, in turn, an attitude that considers culturalartifacts, including literarytexts, as universally appropriable. It proposes considering thevarying reception of different literary works: some as received across the world and overlong periods of time, othersaslimited in resonance andevenforgotten after acertain number of years, as primarily conditioned by the “needs” (intermsofaworld model,ofapragmatic content, of acompensatorydimension) anddesires of thereaders andcommunities who invest timeand effort in the reception of aspecific text or work.

***

This book could not have appeared without relentless effortsonthe part of Katja Heinrich, managing director of the DahlemHumanities Center, and Kathinka Rosenkranz, responsible for the organization of the DHC conferences, who carried outthe copy editing of thevolume. JÉRÔME DAVID The FourGenealogies of “World Literature” TranslationbyMaryClaypool

What canwelearnfrom ahistorical semantics, a Begriffsgeschichte of “world literature?” First, that it is necessary to return to thetexts in whichGoetheevoked Weltliteratur—but also that it is necessary to take intoaccount the wayinwhich these textshavebeeninterpretedand translated sinceGoethe.The period thatseparates us fromGoethe’sWeimarhas indeedseenthe notion of “world literature” take on innu- merable meanings thatithardlyhad at theend of the 1820s:social,ideological, or intellectualmeanings that havebeenadded to it duetoits subsequentinscription in revolutionary,scholarly or university contexts unknownatthe timeofits first for- mulation.1 Historicalsemantics cannot be reduced to an exegesis of textsGoethe lefton thequestion.2 Historical semantics then contributetosituating the contemporary debates in the longuedurée of critical thought, of citizen education, of aesthetic reflections.They thus bringtolight thediverse ramifications of the notion of “world literature,” andtheir particular temporalities. This reminds us that there is notalinear, cumulativehistoryof what one calls “world literature”since Goethe—nodefinitive Great Narrativetohope for—, but rathercompetinggenealogies whose patient examination reveals persisting anachronies or heterochronies. These historical semantics reveal, at leastaccording to me,four different genealogies of thenotionof“world literature.”Iproposetofirst sketch thedevelopment of each genealogy up to the 1990s. Then Iwillturntothe contemporary controversies in order to study,this time,not what remains of each of thesegenealogies in the recent works on “world literature,”but how various combinations of thesefour genealogies in some way draw themoststrikingtheoretical proposals of the past ten to fifteen years in different

1 Ideveloped some elements of this historyin: Jérôme David, Spectres de Goethe. Les métamorphoses de la “littératuremondiale” [“Specters of Goethe: TheMetamorphoses of ‘World Literature’”] (Paris: Les Prairies ordinaires,2011).Inthispaper Iwould liketodraw severalcon- clusions from it. 2 This is also, for the most part, John Pizer’s pointofview,cf. John DavidPizer, TheIdea of World Literature: History and PedagogicalPractice (Baton Rouge:Louisiana State University Press, 2006). 14 Jérôme David directions—so different, in fact, that themisunderstandingsinthe debates are more numerous at this point than real exchanges.Iwill conclude by raising some of the points thatIthink should, despite everything, be discussed today—because they underlie the currentcontroversies withoutbeing clearly stated, or because they are tacitly agreed upon andworth re-examining.

The Philological Genealogy

The first of these genealogies, knownasphilological,isformed in therelationships Goetheenvisionedbetween“world literature” andtranslation.Asweknow, theterm Weltliteratur appears for the first time, in the Goethian lexicon, over the course of a conversationwith Eckermann.3 Goethe,inJanuary 1827 reads aChinesenovel, Les Deux Cousines (The Two Fair Cousins: AChineseNovel)translatedintoFrenchby Abel Rémusat, andhe, too, is in the process of translating Serbian poems,for which he has just received a French version, intoGerman forhis journal Kunst undAltertum.Itis at that moment that he has an intuitionabout what “world literature” couldbe: aliterary conversationbetweenall nations, from whicheachone wouldemerge culturally greater, that is to say more universal. Using this term Weltliteratur is inseparable fromapractice of translation(as areader andasatranslator). This practice also is linked to Goethe’s reflections on thebenefits andthe risksoftranslation:what exactly can we retainofliterature when we transfer a poem or anovel fromone languagetoanother?Isnot this language obstaclealsoanop- portunity,inthe sensethatitchallenges thetranslatortobroaden or loosen his ownlanguage to thepointofbeing abletowelcome, with theleast amount of damage possible, awork written in aforeign language?These questions were not solelyGoethe’s, since he sharedthemnotablywithNovalis andthe Schlegelbrothers.4 Nevertheless, they are decisiveinthe birthofthe notion of “worldliterature.” The philological genealogy of the notion is derived fromthis anxiouspreoccupation with what theliterary works mean,fromthe initialconcern of respectingthe authentic meaning of thetexts,their words as much as their spirit.Itisaccompaniedbyavery close attentiontolanguage, or languages; it measures the aesthetic experienceofthe literary works according to a linguistic experience. “World literature,” in this genealogy,has thediversity of languages as a philological background; it engages an imaginary of themoreorlessdifficult passage of texts from one languagetoanother, fromone nationtoanother, fromone culture to another, from

3 Fritz Strich established in the 1940s the almost exhaustive catalog of the uses of the word “Weltliteratur”byGoethe;cf. Fritz Strich, Goetheund die Weltliteratur (Bern: Francke, 1946). 4 Cf. AntoineBerman, TheExperienceofthe Foreign: Cultureand Translation in Romantic Germany [first editioninFrench, 1984], trans.S.Heyvaert (Albany: SUNY Press, 1992). The Four Genealogiesof“World Literature” 15 one “civilization” to another. “World literature,”from this pointofview, helps with gettingone’s bearings in theTower of Babel. This philological genealogy of “world literature”was introduced in the UnitedStates at theend of the19th century thanks to HutchesonMacaulay Posnett.5 We find it again, and more significantly,inRichard Moulton’s work publishedin1911 World Literature andits Place in General Culture6. In it,Moulton defends the idea that civilization has a legacy of foundationaltexts including theBible,and worksbyHomer,Euripides, Virgil, Shakespeare, Milton, Dante,and Goethe. Mustone readthesetexts in their originallanguage or in English?Since it is a question of “general culture,” of populareducation, that is, at thebeginning of the 20th century, theanswer is unequivocally clearfor Moulton: each readermustbeableto access these foundationaltexts in theEnglish translation,becausethislanguage was at the time, for many Americans, theonlyone they spoke. Thus, “world literature” imme- diatelyimpliesareflection on translation. Moulton’s case, however, is remarkable because thephilologicalattention he applies to the original versions of the works seems at first glance to be almostnon-existent⎯ for strictly pragmatic reasons relatedtothe limited languageabilities of the target audi- ence.And yet, Moulton justifiesthisstance by using arguments in whichweobserve a very sharp awareness of thelinguistic issues⎯in other words, avery philological concern. It is because he thoughtabout what translatinginvolves that Moultoncan challenge,from theinside,asitwere, thephilologicalmisgivings of the fetishism of the originallanguage. “Moulton’s argument,” as it couldbecalled,isthe following: what we lose by readingHomer in Englishisnot the literature perse, but theancient Greek;orrather, what we lose is the very minimal part of theancient Greek whose ethos the translator is unabletoreproduce by subtly workingthe English language.7 ForMoulton, as we can see, either thereflections on “world literature”willcometotermswith translations, at the risk of losing only asmall partofwhat characterizes the spirit of aparticular language (ancientGreek), or they will be condemned to beingunavoidably localized, whichistosay not worldly at all, since they rely on languageskills that are always limited. Thereseemstobeaparadoxhere:Moulton rids himself of theproblem of translation,but he does so with philological arguments. And his“argument” leads himto conceive of literature independent of language. We willdiscover thepedagogical consequences of thisargument abit later.

5 Hutcheson Macaulay Posnett, Comparative Literature (London:KenganPaul, Trench & Co., 1886), Book IV [“World-Literature”], pp. 233−336. 6 Richard G. Moulton, World Literature and itsPlace in General Culture (NewYork: The Macmillan Company,1911);cf. Sarah Lawall, “Introduction, RichardMoulton:Literatureand Cultural Studies in 1911,” Yearbook of Comparativeand General Literature,39(1990−91), pp. 7−15. 7 Moulton, WorldLiterature and itsPlaceinGeneral Culture,pp. 3−4. 16 Jérôme David We oweanother striking development in this philological genealogy of “world literature”toone of the greatest Romanists of the20th century,ErichAuerbach. In an article published in 1952,Auerbachdefended theideathat“our philological home is the earth,[it] can no longer be thenation.”8 This articlehas an evocativetitle: “Philologieder Weltliteratur.”9 What is it about? For Auerbach,itisamatter of entrusting “world philologists,”ashecalls them,with the task of remindingtheir contemporaries of the diversity andthe historical depthoftheir linguisticand culturalroots. Philology is an anamnetic task, and“worldliterature,” the banner of the “world philologists” whowoulddedicate themselves to thecauseinthe field of literary studies. Auerbach is teaching at Yaleatthe time;heknowshehas heartdisease; he would die five years later.Hedoes not speakasaresearcher, but from the positionofaprofessor concerned with passingonhis intellectualconvictionstohis students.“Philology of world literature,” in this sense,istocome. And we knowthat Auerbach’s lessonwould be heard in the UnitedStates: for example, Edward Said gives unendingpraisetothe scholar he consideredhis true precursor, beginningwithhis work Beginnings (in 1975). The philological genealogy of “world literature,”asAuerbachreappropriatedit, was nevertheless largely redirected.And it is this reorientation thatassured itssuccess. Indeed, Auerbach rehabilitates Giambattista Vicovery early (he translates his Scienza Nuova into German in 1920). He finds in this philologist from the beginning of the 18th centuryafundamental axiom:humanity creates itself, and it is because the historical world is theproduct of human beings that we canunderstand thepast.Fur- thermore, the past is notonly discovered in texts,but also in any trace of human activity (customs,proverbs, popular beliefs, styles of dress, etc.). Thisconceptionofphilologyleads to adualconsequence for “world literature”: the “world philologists,” by underscoring the diversity of languages andliteratures,would strive nottodetermine thegenius of different languages anddifferentnations,but to index the“formsoflife” (“Lebensformen”) humanity has used to conceive of itself. Furthermore, the “world philologists” wouldenvision their textualobjects in verylarge culturalcontexts—unlike Spitzer’s stylistics, for example—which, at the sametime, concentrated solely on linguistic traits. It is easiertounderstand howAuerbachcouldhavebeenpresented,attimes, as the tutelary figure for culturalstudies and postcolonialstudies.And how this philological genealogy of “world literature” could, when appliedonaless than planetary scale, like

8 Iuse here JaneNewman’s new translationofAuerbach’s text: Erich Auerbach,“The Philologyof World Literature,”trans. Jane O. Newman, in: JamesI.Porter, ed, Time, History, and Literature: Selected Essays of ErichAuerbach,(Princeton: Princeton University Press, [forthcoming]). 9 Erich Auerbach,“Philologie derWeltliteratur,”in: Walter Muschg and Emil Staiger, edd., Welt- literatur. Festgabe für Fritz Strichzum 70. Geburtstag (Bern: Francke,1952), pp. 39−50. The Four Genealogiesof“World Literature” 17 colonialempires, give rise in particular to one of itsfamous variants:“secular criticism,” championedbySaid in atextfrom198310.

TheCriticalGenealogy

At this point, it is necessarytoconsider another genealogy of world literature,which also will leadustothe thresholdofengaged thoughts at theend of the 20th century. I am of course thinking of the critical genealogy. Its first formulations canbefound in Goethe, once again. First, because Goethe defendedthe notionofWeltliteratur against theideaofNationalliteratur.German literature,fromthe pointofview of “world literature,” ceases to be the expressionofa Volksgeist,anational spirit.Itbecomes ageographically(and culturally)situated literature,certainly, but onewhose aspirations are the sameasthose of French, Italian,or Englishliteratures: namely, to achieve, with itsown methods, theexpressionofa certain universal of thehuman condition, of acertain timeless beauty. This critical dimension attachedtoWeltliteratur evolved from1827to1832. Goethe no longer criticized Nationalliteratur so much, but rather acertain “world literature” thatheconsidered commercial andinsignificant, andwhich he realized, with terror, had beencarried along by theemergence of a“world market” (this wasthe Weltmarkt,a corollary of Weltliteratur). “World literature”tookshape,but in his eyes it was the product of aglobalization from below,sotospeak. This disenchantment prompted him at thebeginning of the1830s to wish for an “invisible church” of writers, modeledafter theFreemasons, charged with contributing in secrettoanalternative world literature from above. The birthofthis critical genealogy of “world literature” took place under thedual auspices of thechallenge of the national scaleand of the elitistadhesiontoavery normative definition of literature (a definitionthatexcludedproductions considered commercial or popular). Thefirst of these two critical registers—the international or transnational stance— became, with only afew exceptions, an obvious fact for all theauthors who later claimed to follow Goethe: “world literature” implied in an almostlogical way the ques- tioning of thenational unconscious. Of course, fromtime to time, we find thereturnof this specterofnationalroots,the temptation of literary nationality.Goethe succumbed to it sometimes, in spiteofhis calls for theestablishment of a“world literature”—for examplewhenhehopedthat “world literature,” understood as aconversationamong all living writers the world over, would contribute to thestrengthening of German literatureand theliberationofGerman writers from their provincialism.

10 Edward W. Said,“Introduction:Secular Criticism,”in: Edward W. Said, TheWorld, the Text and the Critic (Cambridge: Harvard University Press,1983),pp. 1−30. 18 Jérôme David To return to Richard Moulton,for his part, he distinguishedbetween “universal literature”and “world literature.” Forhim,“universal literature”included thesum of all things that hadeverbeenwritteninthe history of humanity,whereas “world literature” was the portion of this “universal literature” that a national culturehad claimed for itself,the particular canon that this nationalculturehad extractedfromit, and in which it claimed to recognize itsfoundingvalues. For Moulton,therefore, there was an Ameri- can “world literature”different from French “world literature.”And Japanese works, eventhoughanintegral part of “universal literature’s” heritage according to him, had no pertinencefor an American citizen.11 They wouldnot have had aplace in American “world literature.” But if the nationindeed remainsavariableof“world literature” forthese different authors, its analytical pertinence is subject to re-evaluation. In this sense, literary nationality, when it is envisioned from “world literature,” is nevertheless always accompanied by a critique of an exclusively national approach to exchanges between literary cultures. The secondcritical register—the denigrationof“bad” literary globalization—also had, for its part, aremarkable history. Goethe accepted the ideathat there were agood andabad “world literature”—a legitimate globalization of aesthetically significant works, andaglobalization from below,formedbythe cohort of commercial productions. This valuejudgmentwas in keeping, at thetime, with Goethe’s classicism,but it has enduredupuntil now. It is stillthe tacit assumption for themajority of contemporary reflections on world literature. Firstly,atthe end of theSecond World War, Erich Auerbach denounced thesup- posedprocess of “culturalhomogenization” on aplanetaryscale—a process he quail- fied in aletter to Walter Benjamin as an “International of Triviality” and a“cultureof Esperanto.”12 His idea of an “invisiblechurch” wouldbecomposed of “world philologists,”whom he triedtotrain at Yale at theend of his life. David Damrosch is no less normative, in his ownway.Thus, in his articles, he deni- grates what he calls “the levelingprocessofaspreadingglobalconsumerism,” i.e. “‘globalliterature’”—as opposedto“‘world literature’”—“junk novels” or “‘market realism’” intended, according to him(followingTim Brennan andTariqAli), to comfort consumers and their culturalprejudices.13 We could alsomention Pascale Casanova, since in TheWorldRepublicofLetters, she denounces, under thecover of sociological rigor, works whichher tastes as areader, or womanofletters, deny anyliterary value. It is “world fiction,” as she calls it,14 that

11 Moulton, WorldLiterature and itsPlaceinGeneral Culture,p.333. 12 Cf. Karlheinz Barck, “5 BriefeErich AuerbachsanWalter Benjamin in Paris,” Zeitschrift für Germanistik,9.6(1988), pp. 688–694, p. 692.Mytranslation. 13 David Damrosch, What is WorldLiterature? (Princeton: Princeton University Press,2003), pp. 18−19, p. 25. 14 Pascale Casanova, “La World Fiction:une fictioncritique,” Liber. Revueeuropéenne des livres 16 (1993), pp. 11−15. The Four Genealogiesof“World Literature” 19 she condemns, theworkofVikramSeth, Umberto Eco, or DavidLodge,while at the same time,inher WorldRepublicofLetters15,she praises the novelsofPaul Auster— all, of course, without explainingthe criteria forthese aesthetic evaluations.The boundary between good and bad “world literature” therefore goes without saying, even for a sociologistwho reflects on thesocialmodalities of artistic legitimation.This shows just howmuchthisaristocraticorelitist leaning has been shapingany reflectionon“world literature”for the pasttwo centuries. Iwill return to this in the conclusion. This critical genealogy of “world literature”—inbothits versions: anti-nationalist and elitist—is used here in the intellectualfield of aestheticreflection.Very early,this genealogy would know another reappropriation, this time more directlypolitical, under theaegis of Marxism. “World literature,” from the Manifestoofthe CommunistParty on,becomes in effect acriticallever of primary importance.Not as acorpuswhose bourgeois ideology must be denounced,nor as aresourcefor socialcriticism,but as an indicator of the development of powerstruggles between the bourgeoisieand theproletariat. “World literature,” according to Marx and Engels, is atremendous thing, in the sense that its emergence signals the globalization of the bourgeoisie, theconsolidationofits economic expansion in the cultural domain. However, forthem,this globalizationisthe conditionofaglobalizationofthe proletariat, such that“world literature” announces andcalls for, in adialectical reversal, theproletarianrevolution itself. Iwon’t get into the details of the developmentsofthis Marxist variant of the critical genealogy in the Soviet Union or East Germany.Idid,however, need to mention its existence, beginninginthe middle of the19th century, becausewewillfind traces of it in the work of Franco Moretti andPascale Casanova.

The Pedagogical Genealogy

Let us now examine the thirdofthe genealogies Ihavedefined:the pedagogical genealogy. Goethe indirectly laidthe foundation for this genealogy when he conceivedof Weltliteratur as aconversation betweenliving writers whowoulddiscuss their works andrespectiveliteratures. “World literature,” thus conceived,coincides with an international artisticemulation. Moreover, it contributes to thecreationoftaste for eachof the literary cultures involved. In sum,itisakintothe mutualeducation of writers. Whenhewonders about Weltliteratur—considered in its patrimonial dimension this time—in othertexts, Goethenever fails to mentionthe placeheaccords to Greek and Latin literatures in “world literature.” We are familiar with Goethe’sclassicism.For him, the greatworks of antiquity are to be considered models. They allow an individual to becomefamiliar with acertainaesthetic,whichGoethe deemed unsurpassable.Atthe

15 Pascale Casanova, The World Republic of Letters,[1st ed.inFrench, 1999], trans. M. B. DeBevoise (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2004), p. 166 and p. 169. 20 Jérôme David same time,theyinstill in the reader acertain idea of human dignity. In this sense, therefore, Weltliteratur is notonlyaschool of aesthetic judgment, but also aresource for Bildung—an element favoring any individual’s attainment of intellectual and moral autonomy. Let us now recall Moulton’s title: WorldLiterature andits Place in General Culture. Thisterm“general culture,”in1911, related Moulton’s enterprise to theclaimsofthe English, then American, movement of “university extensions,”whose goalwas to give courses—outside of thecampus (in thecity)and outside normal working hours (in the evening or on the weekend)—to employees or workers whowantedtoround outtheir personaldevelopment throughthe disinterestedacquisition of knowledge, which wasup until then onlyaccessible to regular students. In asingle word, this was amovement whose goalwas to give workers access to true Bildung. As one might guess, it is the pedagogical genealogy of “world literature” that operates in such acontext.“Worldliterature” is made to serveaneducational project: it is in readingcertain passages taken fromthe founding worksretainedbyMoultonthatwe can appreciatethe aesthetic pleasure of thetext andbetterunderstand thefoundations of the“civilization” of whichweare apart; in order to perform such areading,wehave to be taught howtodoso. “World literature”here serves at once as an apprenticeship and an inculcation, an education of tasteand adiscipline of values. The pedagogical genealogy from thenonflirts with propagandaand falls into it completely in the 1930s in theSovietUnion, when Karl Radek distinguishes betweena “bourgeois world literature” anda“proletarianworld literature” at thefirst Soviet Writers Congress in 1934.16 On the other side of theironcurtain, beginningin1956, TheNortonAnthology of World Masterpieces (now knownasTheNortonAnthology of WorldLiterature), in the economical form of acollection of selectedtexts, would combine theaesthetic pleasure of theclosely read excerpt andthe accepted transmission of certain values—a consistent groupofvaluestobepassed downinthe classroom, whichthe preface of the sixth editionwould still summarize in these terms, as recently as in 1992 “the Judaic-Greek- Roman-European-American traditionsofthought andfeeling.”17 In my opinion, it is with this pedagogical genealogy of “world literature,” very ideologizedatthe time, that the Saids wantedtobreak in 1969, when they decidedto leavethe term Weltliteratur in German in their English version of Auerbach’s article

16 Cf. Karl Radek,“ContemporaryWorld Literature and the TasksofProletarian Art,” in: Maxim Gorky, Karl Radek,NikolaiBukharin,and Andrei Zhdanov, Soviet Writers’ Congress 1934: The Debate on Socialist Realism and Modernism in theSoviet Union,trans. H. G. Scott (London: Lawrenceand Wishart,1977),pp. 73−182. 17 Mack Maynard and Sarah N. Lawall, TheNortonAnthologyofWorld Masterpieces,2vols. (New York:Norton, 1992), vol. 1, p. XIII. The Four Genealogiesof“World Literature” 21 “Philologie der Weltliteratur.”18 The phrase“world literature” no doubtseemedtothem so ideologically compromised that it couldonlyobscure theradical novelty of Auerbach’s reflections. These three genealogies outline apreliminarypossible cartography of the contem- porarydebates.Iwouldliketodemonstrate this by comparing three authors who seem to dominate debates on “world literature” today:DavidDamrosch, FrancoMoretti, and Pascale Casanova (I willadd Gayatri Spivaktothis list shortly). To which of thethree genealogies of “world literature” cantheir work be connected? PascaleCasanova andFranco Moretti’s contributions canundoubtedlybeinscribed in the critical genealogy:For Casanova, “world literature” is merged withaglobal structure of symbolic domination—a structure thatservestoimpose, under thecover of universality, aWestern conceptionofliterature on thewholeworld. ForMoretti, “world literature”designates an unequalsystem of exchanges in which acenter exports its formal innovations to aperiphery or semi-periphery.19 What separatesCasanova from Moretti, however, in termsofwhat interests us here, is that Moretti’s work also borrows fromthe philological genealogy of “world literature,” unlikeCasanova. Neitherofthem, it is true,takes literary texts as an analyticalunit.Casanova’s researchfocuses on beliefs writers associate with literature—what shecalls, usingthe sociological language of Pierre Bourdieu, the illusio of theliterary field.However, this illusio does notgiveitself up in theworks,but in theparatext(in the prefaces, correspondence, interviewsofthe writers). It is not themeaning of theworks that matters for Casanova,but the strategicpositioning theworks give rise to,onbehalf of the writer. Here, philologydissolves into sociology. This is notthe case for Moretti. His attention to “world literature” textshas notdisap- peared;ithas simplychanged focus, concentratinginstead on unitssmaller than texts (such as literary devices, tropes, narrative postures). “World literature” in Moretti’s eyes is not made up of beliefs or discourse on literature, butrather of literary forms. Andthis formalism is againborn of the philological genealogy. David Damrosch also fully inscribes himself in the philological genealogy.Close reading is for him,inmany regards, themostappropriatemethod to examine textsof “world literature.” Andhecombines thework whichAuerbach called“world phi- lolog[y]” with a“creative juxtaposition”20 of two or three selectedworks. In this way, in his work What is World Literature?,hesuggests comparing aJapanese literary production of the 11th century, the Tale of Genji,withthe Thousandand OneNights and

18 Erich Auerbach, “Philologyand Weltliteratur,” trans.Maire and Edward Said, TheCentennial Review 13.1(1969), pp.1−17. 19 Franco Moretti,“Conjectures on World Literature,” NewLeftReview 1. (2000),pp. 54−68. 20 “World literaturetoday offers us exceptional opportunities for creative juxtaposition and fresh affiliation, which can add newdimensions beyond the filiative links provided within awork’shome tradition,”in: David Damrosch, “Secular Criticism meets the World,” Al-Ahram Weekly 769 (17−23 November, 2005). 22 Jérôme David Boccaccio’s Decameron.21 In doingso, we will find, he says, an enlightening diversity of narrativetemporalities. Who exactly takes it upon him-/herself to move forward with “triangulations”22 of texts coming fromvery distantliterary cultures?Here, the backgroundofthe three genealogies that Ijustdescribedturns outtobeilluminating.Damrosch, in fact, ap- proachesworldliterature above all from the pointofviewofits teaching: he is theheir apparent andproselyte of the pedagogical genealogy. The “creativejuxtaposition” of texts, whichaccordingtohim makes us feel the aestheticexperiencespecific to “world literature”moststrongly, corresponds to areading activity oriented towardthe classroom.Yet,whathappens in theclassroom does not interest Moretti. Finally,wecan underscore Damrosch’s and Moretti’s dramaticallydifferent relation- ships to the critical genealogy. Moretti sees in “world literature” asystem of exchanges whose descriptionshouldmake us understandthe mechanismsofcapitalist globalization. Describingthe literary inequalities across regions of theworld, for him,istomap the symbolic power strugglesofour modernity. What exactly does Damrosch expect from a“creativejuxtaposition” in class?Not the political denunciation of the power struggles betweenacenter andaperiphery, but a moral aestheticexperienceabove allelse. For him, “world literature”isthe privileged “sphere” of an encounter with cultural alterity (a Japanese court in the11th century, for example). It encourages decenteringand tolerance.

The Methodological Genealogy

Discussion of the lastgenealogy of the notionof“world literature” remains—the methodological genealogy.23 It does notgoall theway back to Goethe, butratherto the 1950s. This genealogy brings together authorswho envisioned“worldliterature” as a limit case for their ordinary analytical andinterpretive practices. It is thecasefor Auerbach, it is thecasefor Moretti, anditiswithout adoubt the case for Gayatri Spivak24 as well. For them,“world literature”isrelatedtoathoughtexperiment.The rational fiction of “world literature”—as apoliticalaspiration, intellectualgoal, criticalproject—allows them to imaginethe type of revitalizationtheir conceptual tools would need in orderto make this fictionthinkable.Auerbach, although very stingy with theoreticalreflections,

21 Damrosch, What is WorldLiterature?,pp. 298−300. 22 Damrosch, What is World Literature?,p.300. 23 This fourthgenealogybecame suddenly obvioustomeafter abrief discussionwith Virginia Piper in Madison, Wisconsin, in April 2012. Iseize this opportunity to thank her here. 24 Cf. GayatriC.Spivak, Death of aDiscipline (NewYork: Columbia University Press, 2003); and more recently:Gayatri C. Spivak, An Aesthetic Educationinthe EraofGlobalization (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2012), especiallychapter 22, “TheStakes of aWorld Literature,” pp.455−467. The Four Genealogiesof“World Literature” 23 provides thekey to his work in “Philologieder Weltliteratur” throughthe notion of Ansatzpunkt.Moretti, in his “Conjectures on World Literature,”ventures to propose the idea of “distant reading,” which hasregularly startled textualists theworldoverever since.Asfor Spivak,her notion of “planetarity”isasort of regulativeideainthe Kantian sense,reinterpreted in lightofthe “late Derrida”(not theone of différance,but the one of hospitality). In allofthese cases, “world literature” is not so much an object, but achallenge—a challengethatdemands aradical,epistemological litmustest of literary studies.In this sense, “world literature” designateseverything ourinterpretivehabits do notincor- porate: neglected languages,forgotten works, andsilent cultures. It invites us to imag- ine the type of theorythat could save whatour present is in theprocess of losing or has not retained: thediversityofcultures, for Auerbach; the thousands of novels that no one reads anymore, for Moretti; the multitude of “subalterns”, for Spivak. “World literature”ismergedwith an attempt to symbolically restore or repair—an attempt that knows it is condemned fromthe start, by the vastness of its task,but that demands, by its very intention, acertain form of aesthetic or cultural justice.

Critique, Philology and Zong Baihua’s Puzzle

Iwill conclude by dwelling on someofthe at timescontradictory assumptions of the current debates on “world literature.” Thereare in fact, it seemstome, some pointsof marked divergence among theauthors, butthey are rarely conceptualized as such. Con- versely,there also arecertain tacitly accepted facts that wouldbenefit from being critically examined. Referring backtothe four genealogies Ioutlined will allow me to formulate someofthese facts with precision. Within thecriticalgenealogy, Isee twodividing lines. First, there is adivision between thepolitical critique and themoral critique. Thefirst strives to denouncethe mechanismsofdomination(social, cultural, or symbolic); it links thestudy of “world literature”withameditation on power.The second, themoral critique,condemns the “single-mindedness” of academic traditions, the prejudices (of class, race, gender) of readers andcommentators of literary works.“World literature” is thus thespace in which our certainties(western, imperialist,androcentric, etc.) are destabilized. Its vanishing pointisnolonger power, but rather alterity.And itsmethod is not denunciation but reconciliation. The second dividing line within thecritical genealogy opposes twoconceptions of power. In otherwords, the politicalcritiquesplits into twocamps that are hardlycom- patible. On theone hand, power is conceivedasthe practice of domination over populations (ofhuman beings or cultural goods): powerpits thedominator and the dominated against each other; it drawsthe unequal triangleofthe center, theperiphery andthe semi-periphery; its effects are feltonaseries of texts, on the scaleofliterary 24 Jérôme David genres,for whichthe global hegemony of some(sonnet, historicalnovel) is consol- idated to thedetriment of allthe others. On theother hand,power is specifically envisioned as themanufacturer andthe gov- ernment of these populations.Power comes down to this inclusioninaseries,tothe inscription of implacable differences in identity networks.And the critique of power then becomes an enterprise of radical singularizationofindividuals(whetherpeopleor texts), an effort to take them out of theviolence of any univocalcategorization, an attempt destinedtorecall thesingular complexity of each human being or eachtext. Reflections on “world literature”are merged,inthiscase,with the project of decon- structing any definition of literature andany synthetic perspective of the world—and this deconstruction begins at home, so to speak, since it strikes outatexistingtheories on “world literature.” It is noticeableinthe critiques Spivakaddresses to Morettiin Death of aDiscipline or in the content of exchangesbetween Spivakand Damrosch publishedlastyear in the review Comparative LiteratureStudies25. Current debatesin“world literature” therefore pit very different orientations of critique againstalmostoppositemetaphysics of power. But there are still other stumbling blocks.Withinthe philologicalgenealogy,wecan also distinguish two camps: the camp of texts andthe camp of forms.Isaliterary work atextoraform? Must the interpretationofawork take intoaccount thelinguistic materiality of its utterances?Ordoes it consistinstead of modelling elements in part independent of thelanguageusedbythe writer—structuresorschemas likethe plot,the narration,the rules of versificationorformal literary devices (theclueinthe crime novel, free indirectspeech, etc.)?Insum,what part of themeaning of the work is con- tingent on thelanguage?The divisionhereseparates ahermeneutic philology, concerned with extracting significant passages fromthe work that will be subjected to “closereading,” andasomewhat different philology,whose methodengages in aprocess of abstraction of scattered elements in the literary work and of recombinationof theseelements separate fromconstraints or conventions of thewritten language. This divide brings about, on bothsides,radically different consequences for any reflectionon“world literature.” If hermeneutics call for “thick description” of texts, the originallanguage is an unavoidable parameter of interpretation. In other words, one must master the languageinwhich thetext was writtensoastonot risk confusingthe work of thewriterwiththe work of the translator. And, for “world literature” this requirement is not aminorone. If, however, interpretation is conceivedasthe establishment of apattern of elements that are in part dissociable fromthe originallanguage, translation is not an obstacle to philology.And one caneven, well beyondMoulton’s argument,defendthe evenmoreradical idea of no longer reading texts:the establishment of atemplate necessarytothe study of “world literature” willbebased on

25 David Damrosch and Gayatri C. Spivak,“ComparativeLiterature/World Literature: ADiscussion with DavidDamrosch and Gayatri C. Spivak,” Comparative Literature Studies 4. 48 (2011), pp. 455−485. The Four Genealogiesof“World Literature” 25 efforts of abstraction already carried out by other researchers on asmaller scalethanthe world (whetheranation, alanguage, acontinent). These polarizations within the criticalgenealogy andthe philological genealogy do not necessarily constituteasystem.Wecan, for example, pleadinfavor of “close reading” in thenameofacritique thatismoral or political,and we candefendthe use of translationsfor criticalreasons (if it is amatter of locating the unequalcirculation of certainliterarygenres) as well as pedagogical reasons (asinthe case of world literature anthologies). ButIwillstopthe inventoryofthe dividing lines there. Indeed, Iwould like to conclude, to change things abit,bypointingout apoint of implicit convergence in thecurrent debates on “world literature.” Atacit consensus that Ibelievedeserves to be verbalized andinterrogated. Iamreferring, as Isaid, to this per- sistentideaaccordingtowhich there aresupposedlytwo literary globalizations and thereforetwo “world literatures”: aglobalization from below,carrying with it acommercial “world literature” whose works,whichare hardlyexceptional, do not achieve a literary quality; and aglobalization from above,engaging a“world literature”worthy not only of beingread,but also interpreted, because it is composed of works whose aesthetic is at onceunique, reflective and critical—criticalwithregard to traditional or dominant literature andcritical withregardtothe very conditionsinwhichthe literature is produced, distributedand consumed. The bad“world literature”wouldbe, in this hypothesis, theinsignificant reflectionof aglobalizationfrombelow—itself infinitely regrettable. Thegood“world literature,” on theother hand,would be composed of works in keeping with theiconiccategories of literary studies (dialogism,intertextuality,aestheticmetadiscourse, etc.)—works which, furthermore, wouldproposeacircumstantial critique of this globalization from below to which they woulddeclare they didnot belong. This prejudicethusintervenes, prior to interpretation,inthe judgment of works decreed to be worthy of beingput to usefor thebenefit of areflectionon“world literature.” Butitseems problematictome. Especially at atimewhen multinational editorial companies andthe Frankfurt InternationalBookFair welcome,intheir cata- loguesand in their halls,the authors of commercial bestsellers andNobel Prizewinners alike—and where innumerableliterary productions appear simultaneously on every continent in twenty differentlanguages. An anecdotewill sufficetosummarize theseissues.When Goetheused theterm Weltliteratur forthe first time in 1827,hewas in themiddle of reading,among others, a Chinese novel translatedintoFrench,aswell as Chineselyric poetry publishedinan English collection. It is this contactwithwhatheconsidered to be masterpieces froma faraway culturethatgavehim an ideaofwhat humanity would gain by intensifyingits literary exchanges—it is in reading this novel and this poetry that he sawwhat Weltliteratur could be.And it is this contact with Chinese literature that gave himsuch ahighideaofthe literaturethatshouldcirculateonaglobalscale. 26 Jérôme David Nevertheless, as aChinese philosopherinthe 1930s, Zong Baihua,recalled,the novel that Goethe was reading at thetimewas acommercial novel—a low-quality pro- ductionthatwas assignednoliteraryvalue, even in China.26 In short, even theelitist conception of “world literature” wasbased, unwittingly, on an eminently marketable globalization frombelow, which allowedfor abad Chinese noveltobetranslatedand publishedinEurope. Imustsay Iamnot yet sure what allthe lessons to be learnedfrom this founding misunderstanding might be.

26 Cf. Jing Tsu, “Getting Ideas about World Literature in China,” Comparative LiteratureStudies 3. 47 (2010),pp. 290−317. ROBERT J. C. YOUNG World Literature and LanguageAnxiety

The fundamentalquestions raised by Goethe’s various remarks on Weltliteratur,made over thecourse of theyears 1827–1831, have notchangedsignificantlyupuntil today.1 Goethe’s observations are inextricably boundupwith thefollowingissues:

(a) Translation, andthe new German philosophy of translationdeveloped in previous decades by Herder and Schleiermacher. (b) Contactbetweennations and cultures, aperceptionofgrowing interculturalismthat wasconcomitant with contemporary Europeanglobalexpansion. (c) In Goethe’sdifferent formulations, Weltliteratur is something of acontradictory concept in so far as the idea is presentedsometimesasglobaland sometimesas European(for whom the ancient Greeks serve as theultimate or originary model). (d)Goethe showsanxiety with respect to the increasingamountofliteraryproduction, the sheer volume of whichraises the question of itsreadability,its conceptualization, andits taxonomical organization. (e) The historicalmoment of languageanxiety as the dominance of Latinand French in Europebeginstobreakupinthe faceofthe rise of vernacular literatures (the term literature beingconsideredhere in itsolder sense2).

Today thepointsinquestion remain largely the same, but theirformshave changed. Contemporary ideas of WorldLiteratureare inextricablybound up with: a) Questions of translation, andthe riseofTranslationStudies. b) The development of multiculturalism,postcolonial literatures, andthe resurrection of theconcept of WorldLiterature in thecontextofglobalization.

1 English translations of Goethe’s remarks on Weltliteratur have been conveniently collected by Alok Yadav, cf. http://mason.gmu.edu/~ayadav/Goethe%20on%20World%20Literature.pdf (retrieved May 27,2013). 2 Cf. Jacques Rancière, Politiquedelalittérature (Paris:Editions Galilée, 2007),pp. 12–13. 28 Robert J. C. Young c) Theeffect of globalizationand World Literature on Comparative Literature departments which are attempting to globaliseapreviously largely European concept of World Literature, despite thecontinued dominance of Euro-American models andacademic institutions. d) Thetheoreticaland taxonomical conundrum of how to organize the sheer mass of World Literature—as anthologies andcompilations, as distinctnational literatures, or through “distant reading.” e) New formsoflanguage anxiety,whichare specifically postcolonial butwhichin certainrespects can be compared to the situationdescribedbyGoetheinthe 1820s.

For reasonsofspace,Iwill concentratemyremarks on 1(e) and 2(e), but before Ido so Iwouldliketosupplement theentries (c)byremarking thatalthough the conceptual issueremains the same, what has changed between Goethe’s time and ours is theinsti- tutionalbasisfor the problem.Goethe doesnot address the idea of World Literaturein institutionaltermsthough he does discussthe publishing media andraise questions aboutthe relations betweennation states.Since the later nineteenthcentury, World Literatureand world languages havebeen mediated institutionally throughthe formation of university departments of Philology andComparative Literature.Arguably, Comparative Philology,which is conceptually basedonthe model of languagefamilies, does nothavethe sametaxonomical problem of how to organise itsmaterial, andon what basis, as Comparative Literature.While Comparative Literature confinedits attentiontoEurope, with amissionfor post-war nationalreconciliations, theproblem wasless obvious. Nowthatits literatures of studyhave beenglobalised,the questionof how to organise relations between literatures andthe individual texts in them has becomeone of the definitions offered for World Literature itself, to which we canadd the postcolonial questionhighlightedbyAamir Mufti, namely,whose literature,whose world?3 Whose conceptofliterature?Whose idea of value,ofanaesthetic valueor somethingelse? Is the relatively recent Europeanideaofliterature thesame, for example, as the Arabic al-Adab?

Idonot wish to pursue thesesubstantialquestionsfurther here,but will ratherfocus on oneparticular issue, namely the historical moment of languageanxiety as thedominance of Latin and FrenchinEurope began to break up in the faceofthe riseofver- nacular literatures. As Pascale Casanova describes it, theriseofthe vernacularwas part of apower strugglebetweenRomeand nascent Protestantism,which importantly centred on thequestionoftranslation, as well as anational struggle for cultural prestige

3 Aamir Mufti, “Orientalism and the Institution of World Literature,” CriticalInquiry 36. 3(2010), pp. 458–493. World Literature and LanguageAnxiety 29 in the vernacular betweenFranceand Italy.4 Goethe’s later play for German literature broughtthese two separate elements together,which suggests thepossibility that the inventionofthe idea of World Literature wasaproduct of, or resultof, thebreakdown of the hegemonyofLatin(andFrench) and theirruption of formsoflanguageanxietyas aresult. It is language anxiety, Iwant to argue, that puts the writer in aparticular relation to theworld, or marks an awareness of arelationtothe world beyond thelocal,that we might call translational. In time, thattranslational relation wouldalsocometodefine the situation of the postcolonial: the corollary of my argument is that postcolonial writing has been resituated in this positioninthe twentieth century. This meansthat whatisin some sense postcolonialisarguably more worldly than world literatureitself, because it is aliterature whoserelationtothe world beyonditselfforms an unavoidablepartofthe creativity of its foundationalmoment, not something to whichitascends at alater moment when it moves out of its immediate localornational contexttobecomeapart of “World Literature.” In this context we might remember that, beforethe more recent resurgenceofthe idea of worldliterature, it was Edward Said andGayatri Spivakwho were emphasising theworldlynature, theworlding, of literature.5 According to Casanova, small literatures arechallengedbyaproblematic relationto world literary space because they lackliterary capital. In making this argument, she assimilates the provincialand the colonial, arguingthattheyare essentially the same: “whether they are former colonials or simply provincials […] they all findthemselves faced withthe same alternativesand, curiously, discover the sameways out from the same dilemmas.”6 Iwanttoargue that despite thepotential similarities betweenthe colonial and theprovincial, thereare alsodifferences, and one of these comes with respect to language anxiety.Thoughasmall literature maybetray an anxiety with respecttodominant literatures as aresultofthe power relations betweentheir languages, the colonial situation is more complicated andthe alternatives are not so simple. The relationtolanguageinevitably also involves aconstitutiverelationtocolonial violence,not merely to alanguagethathas greatercultural prestige. The postcolonial in some sense repeats thefoundingsituationofGoethewhich wasbothprovincialin relationtoFrench, theprestige languageofthe eighteenthcentury, and,ifyou include the Napoleonicinvasion andthe briefand unsuccessfulattempt to impose the French language forcibly on Germany,insomerespectsapostcolonial one. Goethe’s idea of Weltliteratur,conceived in termsofthe circulation of highworks of literature, stemmedinpart from his desire to increase the prestigeofGerman, andin partfrom his enthusiasmfor translationsoftexts fromother culturesinthe era of European global colonialexpansion, amongst which English andFrench translations fromthe Chinese, as well as Sir William Jones’s translations of thePersian poet, Hafiz,

4 PascaleCasanova, The World Republic of Letters [first editioninFrench, 1999],trans. M. B. DeBevoise (Cambridge: HarvardUniversity Press, 2004), pp.45–73. 5 Edward W. Said, The World, the Text, theCritic (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1983); GayatriC.Spivak, In OtherWorlds: Essays in CulturalPolitics (NewYork: Methuen, 1986). 6 Casanova, The WorldRepublicofLetters,p.176. 30 Robert J. C. Young and of the Sanskrit play Shakūkuntalā (1789), figured notably.7 At thesametime, although Goethe’s idea of Weltliteratur expandstotakeinwriters fromIndia, Persia, China,and Serbia,many of his remarksalsoremainfundamentally Europeanin orientation,and are addressedtothe prospect of theaccession of Germany andGerman literatureontothe European literary scene. This moment is inextricably linked to the perceivedneed to refashionthe literary register of German throughthe translation of literary classics intoGerman. According to FriedrichSchleiermacher this would in turn bringabout thetranslation of German itself intoaricher Europeanlanguage;following Schleiermacher, Goethe subsequently claimed that as alanguage German was particularly open to translationatthatmoment. Such arguments formed part of theprojectto develop a“high” German for literary purposes, thatisGerman as alanguageofaes- thetic writing, beyondthe bureaucratic,mercantile and Lutheran idiomsofstandard German, awrittenlanguagethatinturnremained distinctfromthe diversity of spoken Germans.8 Thebreak-up of Latinand therise of thevernaculars in Europe arose out of astate of affairs that canbecompared to thecolonial situation, involving thepresence of a dominant foreign language imposed by aforeigninstitution or power (here theRoman Catholic church), whichhad ledtoadivisionbetween theoral andwritten usagesof local languages,and the prescribeduse of anow constructed foreignlanguage for officialinstitutional purposesofwriting. The postcolonial debates about languages in the twentieth century follow fromthe samefundamental situation, andare always situatedinsomesense frombelow, in relationtoadominant language imposed as the result of colonialviolencefromabove. In eachcase, as in Goethe’s German, there is also an assumption,promotedbythe colonists andtheir educationalsystems,that this local (inthe postcolonial case,sometimes predominantly oral language) language does nothavethe richnessorrefinement, theculturaland literary capitalin Bourdieu/Casanova terms, of acultivated literary language. Or we have amore complex situationsuchasinIndia, where aside from the status of Englishinrelationto vernacular Indianlanguages, communal politics meantthatHindustani hadtobe divided andturned into Hindi andthenintoaliterary language that could attemptto rival the more elaborate,literary Urdu. The taskofthe vernacularwriter fromaminor literature in thefirst instancethereforeisnot only to createaliterature,but alsoa language for thatliterature.Thatisalsothe postcolonial task, adoubletaskthat determinesthe choices that will be made. Fromthe writer’s pointofview, this means thatheorshe will be writing in alanguagewhich will alwaysbeconditioned by a relationtoanother, potentially more powerful or cultivated languagethatexists in a dominant relationtothe writer’s ownvernacular. One might say thatthe writer will alwaysbeinasituationofbeing conditioned by an awareness of world literature,but world literature conceivedinthe first instanceasaformation of resourceful, more powerful languages which havebeenimposeduponthe localcultureand whichthe writerhas chosen either to utilise or refuse. Postcolonial literature, likeGoethe’s

7 Casanova, TheWorld Republic of Letters,p.212. 8 Ruth H. Sander, German: Biography of aLanguage (New York:OxfordUniversityPress,2010). World Literature and LanguageAnxiety 31 German, is paradoxically therefore always more worldlyinaway thanthe established literatures against which it competes, because thelanguagesituations that it confronts are the particular result of avery worldly situation, namely colonialism which has forcibly imposed another, alienlanguageaspart of itsinstitutional powerstructureof control and rule.

Iwant to suggest then that within theoverallrubric of WorldLiterature,which by definition includes allliteratures ever written sincethe very beginning of time, thereis one characteristic that is specific to postcolonial literatures, andthat is language anxiety—which interestingly and perhaps paradoxically can be compared to thesituation that produced Goethe’sconcept of Weltliteratur in the first place. Of course there aremany different forms of anxiety, the anxietyofwriters, the anxiety of critics, as well as writers’ anxiety about languageand their relationtoit.9 Thepostcolonial form of language anxiety rests simply on the questionofthe writer living in more than one languagewhere thedifferentlanguages have acolonialpower relation to eachother. Let me beginbyrisking adistinctionbetween World and Postcolonialliteratures. World Literature comprises all theliteratures that have ever been produced, the literature of allhumanity.Postcolonialliteratures are called postcolonial becausethey develop in the situationofthe aftermath of colonialorimperial rule or itsprospect. They are thereforehistorically andgeographically bounded in aspecific way, even if the postcolonial is nowbeing pushedbackintomedievaland classicaltimes—thereis much postcoloniality in thehistory of aworld of successive empires. The distinction also operates in relationtothe wayinwhich world andpostcolonial literatures are read. In general terms,world literature is prized forits aesthetic value while postcolonial literature is valued in thefirst instancefor the degree to whichitexplores theeffects upon subjective andsocial experience of the historical residues of colonialism,including language itself. This last point,the question of language, is important, for otherwise the literary element might seem to havedisappearedaltogether, as indeedit sometimes appears to do in weaker or more sociologicaloranthropological formsof postcolonialanalysis. It is language that prevents thepostcolonial from beingcharac- terisedassimplythe external to theliterary’s internal, in thecharacterisation of Casanova. ForCasanova, thepostcolonial is amethod of reading, whereas Iwould argue that it begins as amode of writing. Thepostcolonial does not just reducethe literary to thepolitical, as Casanovaclaims,any more than Goethe does: forpost-

9 For one relevantrecent discussion that stresses the rangeofpossible differentforms of language anxietyinrelation to the historyofthe Englishlanguage, cf. Tim William Machan, Language Anxiety: Conflict andChange in theHistory of English (New York: Oxford University Press, 2009). 32 Robert J. C. Young colonial literatures, thequestions of language, language choice andtranslation, are always central,and always political.10 While Casanova criticizes thepostcolonial for being political at theexpense of the aesthetic, sheherself sometimes completely misses the aesthetic dimension in her readings, particularly with respecttolanguage. Aperfect example wouldbethe reduc- tive account that shegives of V. S. Naipaul, where her dismissive vignetteofhim as simply an “assimilated”writer, absorbedintothe Anglophoneculturalcenter, entirely overlooks thewaysinwhich Naipaul’s cultural anxietiesasacolonial writerfeed into theparsimonious nature of his language,alanguage which richly expresses the am- bivalenceofthe anxieties of his situation. Casanova as aresult showsherself oblivious to therichironies of theveryflatness of Naipaul’s delivery or the complex linguistic work beingdoneinhis writing. Nothing in Naipaul works simplyatface value.Totake asingle example, in TheEnigmaofArrival (1987) Naipaul notices that whenhepre- paresthe compost heaps on the estate, Pittonthe gardenersubstitutes theword “refuge” for “refuse” (asiscommoninthe EnglishWest Country): This vegetable graveyard or rubbish dump Pitton described as a“garden refuge,”and acertain amount of ingenuity went into finding or creating these hidden but accessible “refuges.”That washow Pitton used the word: Ibelieve he had two or three such refuges at different places. Refuse,refuge: two separate, unrelated words. But“refuge,”which Pitton usedfor “refuse,” did in the most remarkableway contain both words.Pitton’s “refuge” not only stood for “refuse,” but had the additional ideaorassociation,not at allinappropriate,ofasylum, sanctuary, hiding, almostofhide-and-seek, of thingskept decently outofsightand mind.11 Forall his interest in localrural English life at thelevel of minutest detail,Naipaul gives no indication thatheunderstands that Pitton wasengagedincomposting: nothing could be of greater interest to thetruegardenerthanthe mysterious art of composting, by means of which the gardener transformsthe rejectedgardenweeds andtrimmings intothe fertilisingsoilthatwill propel the plantsintoluxuriantfloweringand the vegetables intorichlycroppingabundance in the years to come. “Graveyard”or “rubbish dump” misses the point entirely, and doubtless creates forNaipaulfurther enigmas around thecharacter of theeccentric Pitton.But if Naipaulisnogardener,the confluence of the twowords allowshim to come backagain andagain to their identification with each other, leadinghim to developapowerfuland evocative meditationonthe ironies of the linksbetween refuge and refuse, with respect to the composting Pittonand other vulnerableworkers whomheencountersbut alsoofcourse to himself, he whohas takenrefuge, shelter andasylum, in theclosed sanctuary of Englishvillagelife butremains hauntedbyhis status as an unattachedcolonial subject from Trinidad,haunted by the memory of the colonial English view of Trinidadians as refuse.Hecitesthe receivedviewelsewhere:“‘Generallycolonies are peopled by the

10 Pascale Casanova, “Literature as aWorld,” NewLeft Review 31 (2005), p. 71.Here Casanova unexpectedly lines up with Harold Bloom in his criticismofwhat he calls the “literatureof resentment.” 11 V. S. Naipaul, TheEnigma of Arrival [1987] (London: Picador, 2002), p. 218. World Literature and LanguageAnxiety 33 refuse of the Mother Country,but Trinidadispeopled by therefuse of the other colonies.’”12 At the sametime, thenoun refuse can also becomethe verb refuse, and all theinstances in whichitiscitedinvolve arefusal or defiance of some sort on thepart of theWestCountry agriculturalworkers, and in thesameway the refusal alsoworksto deny Naipaul’s ownstatus as colonial refuse: “Sothe pastfor me—as colonial and writer—was fullofshameand mortifications.Yet as awriterIcould trainmyself to face them.Indeed, they becamemysubjects.”13 It is hard to readNaipaul’s comment without suspecting that perhaps he does understand the principle of composting after all, forhis writing enables himtoreprocess theshame and mortification of his coloniality into hisart.Somuchfor the manwho has been easily dismissed as simply an “assimilated” writer. The whole point of Naipaul is the persistent and unending anxietythat comeswith thesense that he will neverbefully assimilated, acontinuing unease that above all erupts in the subtle insinuations of his language. With respecttoCasanova’s general argument against thepostcolonialastoo political andtoo worldly, onecan respondbypointing outthatGoethe’sconceptofWeltliteratur seems surprisinglypostcolonial, in certain respects, for it involves aboveall the provisionofajudgmentonthe domestic fromthe perspective of the foreign, thejudge- ment on thecentre from the periphery or the margin: “world literature develops in the firstplacewhen the differences that prevail within onenation are resolvedthrough the understandingand judgment of therest.”14 Moreover, World Literature is not merely literary,anaesthetic productcreatingits own world, or literary space, but has aspecific “use” or function, as Goethe puts it,beyonditself, thatmightbetermed political, and thatistocreateintercourse and tolerance betweennations. Its literariness, on theother hand, is never in doubt. Whereasworldliteratureisoften conceived in termsofarange of particular authors expressingthemselvesintheir ownlanguageand literary forms, which we mayhowever read in translation and which mayrequire themediatingroleofthe critic, theas- sumptionthatliterature is aform of expression in one’s own languageisnever simply a given for thepostcolonial writer, whoveryoften exists in astateofanxiety with respect to thechoice of language in which he or sheisgoing to write. Though the subaltern can speak, themeans of expressionisnot straightforward. It is for this reasonthatlanguage anxiety is fundamental to postcolonial writing, for apostcolonial writer’s relationto language is always at the same time arelationtocolonial history and adefenceor defiance against the colonial tendency to “glottophagie,” or language devouring, to invoke Louis-Jean Calvet’s term.15 This anxiety produces acertainkindofliterature full of questions aboutlanguage, andthe diversity of languages andcultures on theedges of which it lives. That diversity is not just the diversity of the world overallbut the diversity of local experience that produces aliteraturehaunted by the collisions, suppressions, impositions andinteractionsoflanguages.Wefindtherefore aspecificlinguistictexture

12 V. S. Naipaul, TheLoss of Eldorado: AHistory (London: André Deutsch, 1969), p. 285. 13 V. S. Naipaul, TheEnigma of Arrival,p.267. 14 Cf. Goethe, LettertoSulpiz Boisserée [October 12,1827]. 15 Louis-Jean Calvet, Linguistiqueetcolonialisme: petit traité de glottophagie (Paris:Payot,1974). 34 Robert J. C. Young pervading such writing. If world literature consists of literaryworks that successfully circulateinternationally beyondthe confinesoftheir own borders by typically wearing their ownoriginalculturalcontext“rather lightly”asDavidDamrosch hasargued, any work of postcolonial literature will always be rivenbyits owncontext, sinceitwillbe theliterature of aculture forcibly internationalised, made worldly,bythe impact of foreign cultures andlanguages from beyondthat were imposed on that culture without choice.16 Encounters betweenlanguages are never neutral andliterature cannever escape the cultural conditions of thepolitics of language. Apostcolonial literature will always be actively marked by the presence,orabsence, of other dominantorrepressed languages that operate within itsown specific localenvironment. The question of language choice will alwayshavetobemade, butwhatever language he or she chooses, many postcolonialwriters nevertheless retain acertain equivocalness in their relationtothe particular languageinwhich they write, themoresoifthisisa major European language such as EnglishorFrench. The language debates amongst colonial andpostcolonialwriters, whichbegan in India (for example in theworkof MichaelMadhusudanDutt(1824–1873) whoswitched fromwriting in English to Bengali) andIrelandinthe nineteenth century,havebeen wellrehearsed, even if sur- prisingly no onehas writtentheir history,and Iamnot goingtoelaborate them at length here.Ijustwanttopoint to two things:first that these debates, usually presented as a question of simple choice, that is aquestionofinternationalism vs. nativism,infactalso represent an anxietyabout language choicethattends to develop in anon-European environment which hasanumber of local or indigenous languages butinwhich there is also thepresence of adominant Europeanlanguage as aproduct of colonial rule. This situation does not generally change significantly in thepostcolonial period (Vietnamese French would be an interestingtestcase, whileastrikingvariation would be the Palestinian writer AntonShammas’s decision to write hisnovel Arabesques [1986] in a very allusiveand layered Hebrew thatresonateswiththe rhythmsofArabic, provoc- atively inserting aPalestinian voice forever withinthe domain of Hebrewliterature). The most common responses to this colonial or postcolonialdilemma of language choice takethree forms: first to use thecolonial languagebut modify it so as to make it more local (African, as with Chinua Achebe, Indian as with SalmanRushdie, Irish,as with JamesJoyce, or Caribbean, as with Aimé Césaire or Edouard Glissant). The second possibility is to choosetowrite in athird, differentlanguagealtogether, as in thecaseof SamuelBeckett, for whomFrenchrepresentedaneutral language. For others, on the otherhand, such as Assia Djebar, Frenchwas aproblematiclanguagefor thesame reason thatEnglishwas for Beckett. So too,DalitwritersinIndia find English attractive because it is acaste-free language, whereas forearlier writerssuchasDutt or Mohandas Gandhiithad to be rejected as acolonial language.Gandhitookthe thirdcourse, namely the rejectionofthe coloniallanguagealtogetherinfavour of the local vernacular, apracticethat beganinthe nineteenthcentury but todayismostassociated with the nameofNgugiwaThiong’o. Paradoxically perhaps thefirst and third choices (crudely theuse of thecolonizer’s or thelocal language) both have acomparable result,

16 David Damrosch, WhatisWorld Literature? (Princeton:Princeton University Press,2003),p.139. World Literature and LanguageAnxiety 35 namely the development of anew written form that conformstoneither original language:the modified European language choice produces anew literary languagethat has no verbalequivalent, andindeedisoften almost unreadable, even if it is supposedto represent thelocal inflection of the European language:thinkofJoyce,Erna Brodber,or Ken Saro-Wiwa’s Sozaboy: ANovel in Rotten English (1986)asexamples of thosewho write in English butinalanguage thatisnolongerEnglish.While writing in the vernacular, on the other hand,also inevitably producesanew written form,since no one writesasthey speak,itsometimeshappens that thelanguage employed alsoincreasingly embodies the frozentime-capsule of alanguage remembered in exilefromthe past. The netresult is atransformed Europeanlanguageinternally translatedintoa differentidiom,orthe forcingofthe non-readerofthe non-European languageinto translation.Indifferent ways, all options push the reader intoatranslational mode of some kind. Theanxiety of languagechoice always leads on to an anxietyoftranslation.

III

Althoughlanguagechoicewill alwaysbeanissue forwriters in ageneral sense, anxiety about language choice,and acontinuing preoccupation with it, is especiallycharacter- istic of postcolonial writers. Iwant to conclude by asking aquestionfor which thereis no simple answer, namely,why,unexpectedly,doespostcoloniallanguageanxiety seem to be greatest in theMaghreb? It is true thatoutsideits own geographical region,Arabic literature seemstobethe literature perhaps leastknown in all theliteratures that make up World Literature today.Onthe other hand, forthose writing in theMaghreband the Middle East, Arabic literature offers one of the richesthistoricalliteratures of the world and certainly has no deficiency of literary cultural capital in Casanova’sterms.The availability of Arabic as aliterary language, andits proliferating power as thelanguageof oneofthe world’sgreat literatures, might have been expected to produce asituation in which languageanxiety would not be an issue for recent North African writers, but in fact the very opposite is the case. In this sense, the “anxiety about language—whichcan only be an anxiety of language, within languageitself,”17 whichthe Algerian-French philosopher Jacques Derrida announced in 1963 in “Force andSignification,”marked him out already as botha“postcolonial”and Maghrebian writer. Derrida, like Joyce, whom he wrote about at length,shared amarked sense of beingestrangedwithin his ownlanguage, through being estrangedfromthat other language that he never learnt butwhich shouldinsome sense have been his mother tongue. French remains the language whichhespeaks but which is nothis.Asheputs it in Monolingualism of theOther,“Yousee, neverwill this

17 JacquesDerrida, “Force and Signification,” in: Writing and Difference [1967],trans. Alan Bass (London: Routledge, 1978),p.3. 36 Robert J. C. Young language be mine. And, truth to tell, it never was.”18 Derrida, youmight even say,was anxious because he did not have alanguage choice, which, as aMaghrebian, he feltby rights he should have had. Thevery situationmade him anxious, and the whole of his work in acertain senseisbased on an anxiety about language. AssiaDjebar found herself in a similarsituation to Derrida. In her case, shewas broughtupinAlgeria to speakFrench, but haunted by the forbiddenArabic by whichshe wassurrounded, shewas never fully at home in the French whichalways seemstoremain thelanguage of the other: Icohabit with theFrench language [...] French is my “stepmother”tongue. Which is my long- lost mother-tongue, that left me standing anddisappeared?... Mother-tongue, either idealized or unloved, neglected and left to fairground barkersand jailers!...Burdenedbymyinherited taboos, Idiscover Ihavenomemory of Arabic love-songs. Is it because Iwas cutoff from this impassioned speech that Ifind theFrench Iuse so flat and unprofitable?19 Djebar’s wholework has in asense been constituted by the disquieting question of language, multilingualism and language choice, and represents one of themost profound analysesofits continuing effectsupon the postcolonial writer.20 Of coursefor Djebar, as forDerrida,there wasinpractical terms really only one possibility, butthis can hardly have been saidtoreducethe anxietythat she felt about it—indeed it seemstohave exacerbated it. What is it that is particular to theArab region that seemstoheightenthissituation of languageanxiety?This domain brings together the twosituations which Ibegan by comparing, namely that of Goethe in theeighteenth century and postcolonial questions of language anxiety of the twentieth. Though theMaghreb, like most Arablands,has beenmultiply invadedand colonized, first by theArabs themselves, then by the Ottomans,thenbythe British, French,Spanish, Italians andAmericans, youmight assumethat it would avoidissues of postcolonial language anxiety,giventhe presence of classicaland modern standard Arabic across thewhole region. The situation in Arabic speaking countries to somedegreeoffers asituation comparable to that of Latin in medieval Europe, or perhaps more closely to thesituation in China with respectto Mandarin, Wu,Cantonese (Yue),Min,Xiang, Hakka, Gan, andtheir many regional varieties,together with Japanese, in whichthe written form is universally legiblewhile thespokenlanguages canbedistinctenoughtobemutually unintelligible to thedegree thatsomecould technically be called another language (Italian or to alesser extent even German would offer comparable cases in Europe). In this situation,the post-Romantic European emphasis on the need for literature to reflect the authenticity of vernacular

18 JacquesDerrida, Monolingualism of the Other, or,The Prosthesis of Origin [1996],trans. Patrick Mensah (Stanford: StanfordUniversity Press, 1998); cf.Yasemin Yildiz, Beyond theMother Tongue: The Postmonolingual Condition (New York: Fordham University Press, 2012). 19 AssiaDjebar, Fantasia:AnAlgerian Cavalcade [L’amour,lafantasia 1985], trans. DorothyS. Blair(Portsmouth,New Hampshire: Heinemann, 1993), pp. 213–214; cf.Assia Djebar,“Ecrire dans la languedel’autre,”in: Assia Djebar, Ces voix qui m’assiègent ...enmarge de ma francophonie (Paris: Albin Michel, 1999), pp. 41–50. 20 Assia Djebar,“Territoires deslangues,” in:Lise Gauvin, L’écrivain francophoneàla croisée des langues (Paris: Éditions Karthala, 1997),pp. 17–34. World Literature and LanguageAnxiety 37 speechdoesnot obtaininthe sameway,any more thanitdid for Europeans who wrote in Latinupuntil the eighteenthcentury.For Arabic,this situationwas at least in part the result of the wayinwhichprintingwas introduced after1821and exploitedbythe Al- Nahda (Revival) movement which developed thewrittenform of modern Arabic. The result todayisthat, as thewriterand translator Abdelfattah Kilitoputsitinhis provocativebook, ThouShaltNot Speak My Language (2002): As is well known, written Arabic,unlikespoken Arabic, hasundergone only slight and secondary changes throughout its history, so that whoever today can readNizar Qabbani can readal-‘Abbas ibn al-Ahnaf, andthose who can readSalah ‘Abd al-Saburcan read Salih ibn ‘Abd al-Quddus, and whoever reads MidaqAlley canalsoread TheBookofthe Misers.This is a strangeand amazing phenomenon, rarely encountered in other cultures.21 We might contrast thesituationinTurkey,highlighted by ErichAuerbach,where becauseofthe language reformsofthe 1920s, few Turks can read bookspublishedin Turkishbeforethatdate. Theperhaps uniqueposition of Arabic canhelp us to understand why nationalist language politics hasnot been cathected with thesameimpor- tance in this part of the world as in South Asia. What this means is that as well as having avoidedsomeofthe negative consequences of these language movements (such as thedevastating wars prompted in part by languagemovements in SouthAsia), literature in Arabic is alwaysalready more fundamentally transnational than other literatures,and this has meantthatthe Arabicspeakingworld has maintainedarare cultural unity, sustainedbythe unique link between thelanguage, especially in itswritten forms, and Islam.Writing offers ahistorical transnationalorindeedprenational lan- guageinaway that complicates anyassumption that World Literature offers the sum- mation of different nationalliteratures of theworldand challenges thestandard national vernacular literatures. All these qualities might have beenexpectedtohavemeant thatthe fundamental postcolonialquestion of language choice has not beensuch an issue for Arab writers. Things, however, are notsosimple. First of all there are thetwo formsofwritten language, classicaland modern,and secondly there is thediglossic situation of thedivision betweenliterary and spokenArabic, andthe differencebetweenstandardArabic and local dialects. Arabic is in some sense doubly determined,onthe one hand by its quasi Latinatestatus,onthe otherhandbyatypicalpostcolonial situation. Thelanguage question is not absent, particularly for writers in the more multilingual environment of le maghreb pluriel where thepossibility of choosing between locallanguages such as Arabic andBerber, andthe colonial languages of French andSpanish, has placed writers such as Assia Djebar, Tahar BenJelloun, or AbdelkebirKhatibi in aposition comparable to theother classicformulations of theproblemofwhat language awriter in a multilingual, formerly colonial environmentshouldchoose to write in.22 In the Maghreb in particular, it is oftenthe idea of writinginFrenchthatproduces similar problemsto

21 Abdelfattah Kilito, Thou Shalt NotSpeak My Language,trans. Wail S. Hassan (Syracuse: Syracuse University Press,2008),p.10. 22 Abdelkebir Khatibi, Maghrebpluriel (Paris:Denoël, 1983). 38 Robert J. C. Young thoseinAfricaorIndia who write in English. On theone hand,wehave writers such as theAlgerian Rachid Boudjedra who wrote firstinFrench and then in Arabic, bothof them in linguistic registers that have proved almost equally toodifficulttotranslate into English. On theother hand,there is Khatibi’s L’Amourbilingue,which suggests the overthrow of dualistic either/or choices by recognizing the simultaneous presenceof differentlanguages at thesametime, creating aspace where co-present languages can meet without merging, in astate of translation in which thewriter imperceptibly switches languages, asituation in factmorerepresentativeofthe stateoflanguages in multilingualenvironments, where speakers codeswitchintodifferent languages forthe differentsituations as appropriate.23 Onemight alsonoteherethe additionaluse of Italian (Kalifa Tillisi), Spanish (Mohamed Sibari, El Caballo [1993]),and in recent years of English⎯whichhas proved particularly attractive for diasporic Arab women writers,suchasthe Jordanian-British author Fadia Faqir,orLeila Aboulela, originally fromSudan,orthe British-Egyptianwriter Ahdaf Soueif.Perhaps writing in English, in another languagealtogether, is oneway of learning nottobeanxious. What complicates further this rich polylingualsituation is the questionofthe relation of modern standardArabic to vernacular formsofArabic as well as to dialects andother languages such as Berber. NorthAfrican writers sometimes saythat they often prefer to write in French or English because Modern Standard Arabic,especially in its written form, is aforeignlanguagefor them like almostany other, andvery distant from local speechforms,aswell as fromcertainareas of human experience, such as intimacy, which,writers argue,itfindsimpossibletoexpress. This situation is particularly empha- sized by womenwriters, anditisnotable thatperhaps forthisreason many Anglophone Arabicwriters are women.Gradually,Arabicisbeing written in more diverse ways,a process that wasfirst highlighted for the English-speakingworld with Driss Ben Hamed Charhadi’s ALife Full of Holes (1964), which wastranscribed andtranslatedfrom MoroccanArabicordarija by Paul Bowles. Today,one of the effects of theuse of socialmedia, bloggingetc., associatedwiththe Arab Spring,has beenthe development of newformsofwritten Arabic that reflect localvernaculars much more closely and which are radically transforming the hegemony of Modern Standard Arabic in a“new imaginative geography of liberation.”24 So the contemporary situation can perhaps be compared, in certainways, to thegradualbreak up of standard Latin in Europe from the sixteenth century to the timeofGoethe, in apostcolonial historical environment. Language anxiety in the Maghreb, therefore, seemstoresult from the presence of all major European languages, with theexception of German, together with thewiderange of spoken forms of Arabic, as well as other languages such as Berber, that collidewith the special situationofaModernStandardwritten Arabic, to produceasituationofon theone hand acutelanguage anxiety,but,onthe other hand, as is often thecase with anxiety,extraordinary productivity acrossNorth Africa and the so-calledMiddleEast. Andthatenergizing dynamic is precisely what makes Arabic literature so uniquely interesting amongst allgreatliteratures of the world today.

23 Abdelkebir Khatibi, Amourbilingue (Paris: FataMorgana,1983). 24 Hamid Dabashi, TheArabSpring. The End of Postcolonialism (London: Zed Books, 2012), p. 226. JANE O. NEWMAN Auerbach’s Dante: Poetical Theology as aPointof Departure for aPhilology of WorldLiterature

Which Worlds?

Already in 1827, Goethefamously remarked to hisfriend Eckermann that “‘the epoch of world literature [Weltliteratur]’” was at hand.1 Marx andEngelsequally as famously went on to confirm Goethe’sclaim not too many years later, when they wrote in 1848 thatinthe place of the“oldwants,”ordesires, of nations foronlytheir ownliterary heritages andnational traditions of texts, “new wants” had arisen, particularly among the bourgeoisie,new appetites that couldinturnonly be satisfied by always new “products.”2 The argument was prescient,for, as Michael Denninghas argued, like world music, world literary products are extremely popular thesedays, part of abooming culture industrythat Emily Apter suggests can quiteeasily becomea“facile globalism” if and when it eschewsthe specifics of contingentand distinctliterary and textual forms in favor of asingle, easily digestible cosmopolitanist canoncrafted to suit thetastes of theemergingmarket.3 WorldLiterature lite,wemight say. Here, however,itisnot theimpact of consumer culture on poetry but, rather, theex- pansionist temporality centraltoGoethe’sand Marx andEngels’s discussions of World Literature that is of interest. Not surprisingintextseitherbythese particular menorby others fromthe historical period whenthey were writing,the dogged progressivism that characterizes their claimshas resurfacedrecently in what shouldbecounter-intuitive ways in our allegedly post-Enlightenment age.4 Indeed, these debates actuallyseemto contravene what is often takentobetheir topographically organizeddevotiontoex-

1 Goethe to Eckermann, 1827, as cited in Stefan Hoesel-Uhlig, “ChangingFields:The Directionsof Goethe’s Weltliteratur,” in:Christopher Prendergast, ed., Debating World Literature (London: Verso Books, 2004), pp.26–53,p.34. 2 Marx and Engels as cited in Hoesel-Uhlig, Directions of Goethe’s Weltliteratur, p. 51. 3 MichaelDenning, “The Novelists’ International,”in: Franco Moretti,ed., TheNovel,Volume1: History,Geography, and Culture (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2006), pp.703–726, p. 703; andEmily Apter, “Literary World-Systems,”in: David Damrosch, ed., Teaching World Literature (New York: Modern Language Association, 2009), pp. 44–60; p. 56. 4 Pascale Casanova discussesthe “temporalities” of World Literaturefrom asomewhat differentper- spective: “Literature as aWorld,” NewLeft Review 31 (2005),pp. 71–90; pp.76–78. 40 Jane O. Newman panding theway we understand relations betweenthe local andthe global when,intheir insistence on an ever greaterinclusionism,theyrelyonalogic of linearity notunlike the onethatshapes Goethe’s and Marx and Engels’s claims. This is somethingother than therecently much decried “Eurochronology,” the importation of periodization schemes based on only Western examples to helpusorganize both ourreadinglists and world literacy’sdominant hierarchies of aestheticvalue.5 Rather, concerned about which protocols of selectionmight bestapply in theface of the alwayspolitically vexed conundrumofrepresentationand coverage,theorists of World Literatureactually fail to choose when they line the increasingly rich, but alsoincreasingly disparateassortment of artifacts and texts available for study all up in arow,withthe most recent additions to thecanon often leading the way.The result does appear to be aspectacular kind of globally all-enfranchising parade. Butthe procession is oftenchoreographed according to theex- ratherthaninclusionary principle describedbymedievalist Kathleen Biddick as “supersessional[ism].”6 In this model, each“new” generation of not necessarily more recent, but always previously absent literatures and texts takes its place at the front of the line; as aresult,earlier generations necessarily fall behind, or eventually even drop out.This kind of expansionism is not truly additive. Norcan it in the long run ever aspire to accommodatinganythinglikethe totality of the world’s literatures, sinceits movement forward is based on aprotocol of eclipse ratherthanofembrace. Ironically, the pedagogicalbenefits of this wayofteaching both the objectand the problem of World Literaturecritically are also unclear, since most earlytwenty-firstcentury students (in the UnitedStatesatleast) belongtoageneration that came of age just after the culture wars had beguntodie down. For many of them,adiversified and globally updated canonnow seemspretty traditional and the lesser-taught(western)Classics strikingly new. Understanding thesupersessionalism of theWorldLiterature debates challenges us to recognize thelimitations of eventhe most inter- andtransnationalofthe newcounter- canons. Callingfor the theorizationofthesecanons is of course fully justified in order to resistformerly hegemonic versions of the worldliterarytraditionbystrategically privileging texts notpreviously consideredascore. Andcertainly these other traditions haveimmeasurably enrichedour understanding of theabundant anddiverse forms of literary capitalthatcirculateoutside of andbeyondthe Western-metropolitanmarket system.Yet, precisely theaptness to World Literaturedebates of thevocabularies of dominationand resistanceand of periphery and corereminds us of the other peri- odizationlogicthathas governedthe field, one basedonthe narrative thathas long shaped theway thehistory of socialand political modernization-cum-secularization is told.7 In this narrative, eachnew participantinanevermorecrowdedworld of world civilizations canonly accede to its socialand political maturity by leaving earlier de-

5 Cf. Christopher Prendergast citing Arjun AppaduraiinPrendergast, “The World Republic of Letters,” in:Prendergast, ed., Debating World Literature,pp. 1–25; p. 6. 6 Kathleen Biddick, TheTypological Imaginary. Circumcision, Technology, History (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2003),pp. 2–3. 7 Casanova, Literature as aWorld,commentsonasomewhat different “modernization” thesis, pp. 75–76. Auerbach’sDante 41 pendenciesontraditionalism, superstition, andsoonbehind—regardless of how un-or evenanti-progressivist or criticalofwhat has come to countassecular “civilization”or modernity anyone of thesepreviously minoritized voices might be.8 Anygiven collective’s cultural modernity (and, only apparently counter-intuitively,its post-modernity too) thus comes to be definedasthe ageinwhich that collective (large or small, state- identified or not) claimssovereignty over its right to create anddefendits own identity- forming tradition of artifacts andtexts.The story relies on what Icallanimplicit Westphalianism, the de facto result of whichisactuallyakind of “de-worlding,”the creation of amosaic of traditionsthat, ever insistentonautonomyand differentiation, remain uncoupledfromone another, co-existinginoften uneasy proximity,but unable to see how togethertheyform awhole. In theend,this system of “new”and indepen- dentcanonsremainsbesetbythe samechallengesasthe more literalWestphalian sys- temtowhich it is indebtedasanostensiblypluralist system, that is, in whicheach and every sovereignstate, large and small, is allegedly accorded an equal place at thetable, butwhere a“great power” logic in fact determinesrelationsbetween thestates—and thus alsobetween literary canons andculturaltraditions—whenthey continue to be organizedbyinequities of size, power, andprestige.9 Finally,any one of the countless, newly empowered writer-participants in the rainbow pluriverse of aworld literary canon “enriched” by admitting awhole hostofnew traditions in this way runs the risk of experiencinganew kind of subjection, this timeto“ethnic nominalism,” to thepres- sure, in otherwords, to adjust his or herindividual voicetothe taskofrepresenting only a“national[ly]neutral” version of hisorher canonand thus of speaking only in an idiom that coincides withthatcanon’s identifiable commonvoice.10 This is not World Literature as Iwouldliketoconceive it.

8 This overlap between cultural and political agencyisnot new; as AnthonyD.Smith writes, “nationalism” typicallyrelies on narratives of “cultural gestation and representation,” even when thepoliticalcollective in questionexists below the leveloroutsideand beyond the parameters of the classicalnation-state. Cf.AnthonyD.Smith, Nationalism: Theory, Ideology, History (Cam- bridge/Oxford/Malden: Polity Press/Blackwell,2001), pp. 6–7. Casanova (Literature as aWorld) debates the assumption of this synchronization, as did(famously)Aijaz Ahmad, “Jameson’s Rhetoric of Otherness and the ‘National Allegory’,” Social Text 17 (1987), pp.3–25, on Frederic Jameson, “Third-World Literatureinthe Era of Multinational Capitalism,” Social Text 15 (1986), pp.65–88. 9 LawrenceVenuti analyzesthe trends thatcharacterizetexts translated from Englishinto other languages versusthe reverse in order to demonstrate the “asymmetries” that result from the “overwhelmingdomination” by “English-language cultures” of worldtextual availability. Cf. Lawrence Venuti, The Scandals of Translation: Towards an Ethics of Difference (London/ New York: Routledge, 1998), pp.160–165.Following Moretti, Vilashini Cooppan discusses this same asymmetryinthe World Literature classroom, where, even when a“diverse” canon is taught, it is usually the top 0.5% of theworld literarycanon,usuallybyNovel Prize winners, that is assigned.Cf. Vilashini Cooppan,“World Literatureand Global Theory:Comparative Literature for the New Millennium,” symploke 9. 1–2 (2001), pp.15–43; p. 33. 10 Emily Apter, “Untranslatables:AWorld System,” NewLiterary History 39. 3(2008), pp. 581–598; p. 581. 42 Jane O. Newman In the face of the challenges associatedwiththe supersessionalistmodel andinlight of the proliferation of hierarchical and potentially identitariancanons to which it leads, other World Literature theorists havesuggestedanarray of anti-telic counter- chronologies (such as Wai Chee Dimock’s “deep time”orVilashini Cooppan’s “ghostly repetitions anduncanny hauntings”) andalternativegeometries (such as David Damrosch’s “ellipses”), whose purpose is to discourage bothprogressivism and atomist isolationism by juxtaposing or readingtwo or more individual andclosely read world texts andtraditions together, with their termsofengagement involvingcomplexrela- tions of genre,medium,and theme. Still others, including FrancoMoretti, have pro- posedaltogether differently scaledapproachesdesigned to help“map” and “graph” the regularities of even grander inclusionary“networks” and “systems” of worldlettersthat rely on formsof“distant reading” that allowlarge-scale patterns to becomeclear.11 Bothapproaches areuseful in providingmodels for how to wrestlethe sheer enormity of theworldsofWorldLiterature to theground, andsuggestless tiered ways of keeping up with theracetocover more andmoreofthe matter of world literacy broadly defined. Each representsits ownkind of challenge, however. For, when we shrink theworld to the case of either asingleorevenpaired example or strip it of itsmotley, fractal texture throughlarge-scale data mining,whatweloseisthe sense of thewaysinwhich any one of World Literature’s intriguinglydenseand detailedtexts both contains itsown universe andfitsintoanequally as variegated world-literary wholethatis“unified” precisely in itsheteronomous“multiplicity,”asanother great theoristofWorldLiter- ature,ErichAuerbach, once wrote.12 The several impasses representedbythese twosets of approaches(hopelessly sim- plifiedhere) call forinvestigatingthe possibility of thinkingabout World Literature fromthe both literally anddiscursively distinctpoint of view associated with what some contemporary InternationalRelations theorists call ourcurrent “post-Westphalian” moment.13 As notedabove,the Treaty of Westphalia(1648)isoften takentomark the

11 WaiChee Dimock, “Literature for the Planet," PMLA 116. 1(2001),pp. 173–188; Vilashini Cooppan, “Ghostsinthe Disciplinary Machine:The Uncanny Life of World Literature,” ComparativeLiterature Studies 41.1(2004), pp. 10–36;David Damrosch,“Literary Study in an Elliptical Age,” in: Charles Bernheimer, ed., Comparative Literature in the AgeofMulticulturalism (Baltimore: JohnsHopkins University Press, 1995), pp.122–133; Franco Moretti,“Conjectures on World Literature,” New Left Review 1(2000), pp. 54–68; Apter, Literary WorldSystems. 12 Erich Auerbach, “Philologyand Weltliteratur,” trans.Maire and Edward Said, TheCentennial Review 13.1(1969), pp. 1–17; p. 4, originally published as “Philologie derWeltliteratur,” in: Walter Muschg and Emil Staiger,edd., Weltliteratur. Festgabe fürFritz Strich zum 70. Geburtstag (Bern: Francke Verlag, 1952), pp.39–50,and available in: Erich Auerbach, Gesammelte Aufsätze zur romanischen Philologie (Bern/München: FranckeVerlag, 1967), pp.301–310;p.302.Inwhat follows, Icite the Saids’ translation,with thepagereferences to the 1967 German version followingthe page references to the English.Cf. also my (re)translation of this essay as “The PhilologyofWorldLiterature,”in: James I. Porter, ed., Time, History, and Literature: Selected EssaysofErich Auerbach (Princeton: Princeton University Press,[forthcoming]). 13 Cf. Richard Falk,“Revisiting Westphalia, Discovering Post-Westphalia,” TheJournal of Ethics 6(2002), pp.311–352.For the “myth”ofWestphalia’s “modernity,”cf. Stéphane Beaulac, “The Auerbach’sDante 43 beginning of modernity’s “axial age,”whenaworld whose localismsand particularities were previouslycollected under justafew large-scale umbrellas, among them the Catholic Church andthe Holy Roman Empire, wascarvedupintoautonomous states that used their newly acquired territorial sovereignty to defendagainst difference on the outsideand to impose uniformity within.Bydefinition, thesestates saw no standard above themselves, no external instance capableofrelativizing their claimstoabsolute authority by positioningthem within agreater whole. Understandingthe world through apost-Westphalianism lens is notexactlythe sameasadoptinganinternationalist or cosmopolitaniststance. Rather, it calls for defining asupranational,even post-sovereign sovereignposition, notvia areturn to anyfacile universalism of course, but by acknowledging distinctions anddifference fromabove,asitwere.GayatriSpivak has proposed thata“planetary”Comparative Literature might play this role for the worldof world letters; thelanguageshe uses to describe whatshe calls “planet-thought” suggests preciselythiskindoftrans-mundanestance. “Planet-thought”belongs, Spivak writes, to an “inexhaustibletaxonomyofnames” for and “transcendentalfigurations” of an absolute, all-containing“alterity” thatis“underivedfromus.” “[D]iscontinuous” from any one “differentiatedpoliticalspace” andthus non-hegemonic, “planetarity”is“mysterious”inits ability to transcendhierarchiesofrankeddifference.14 Already some fifty years before Spivak, Erich Auerbach definedWorldLiterature as “planetary”inasomewhat less oracular way, writing in his essay,“Philology and Welt- literatur”(1952), that “our philological home” is “nolonger thenation,”but, rather, “the earth” (dieErde).15 Auerbach’s call in theposthumously published Literary Language andits PublicinLate Latin Antiquity andinthe Middle Ages (1958) for the practice of a“radical”historicist“relativism”capable of engaging theinternalcom- plexity andpoetic-aestheticspecificity of anyand allparticulartexts withinacommon frame nevertheless assumes the samekind of “mysterious,” translocalpresence to which Spivakalludes,for there Auerbach definesthattext’s role—inits specificity—as amarker of the“absolute essence” of an absent, yetvirtually real and all-inclusive World Literature, akindofworld literary nunc stans,that “can only be apprehendedin itsparticular historicalforms.”16 EmilyApter has proposed theterm “negative

Westphalian Model in DefiningInternationalLaw:Challenging the Myth,” Australian Journalof Legal History 8. 2(2004), pp. 181–213. 14 Cf. Spivak, DeathofaDiscipline (New York: ColumbiaUniversity Press, 2003), pp. 72–73and p. 102. Conceiving of culture in planetary fashion maywell be an important alternative to the current dominance of neo-liberal theories of the globalization of capital as the only version of post-sovereign transnationalism that exists.JürgenHabermas has argued that we must deliberately developversions of (political)cosmopolitanism mindful of their charge to act as counter-weights to, or “bridles” on, market-driven forms of trans-nationalism to the end of creating equityand stability,again, bothwithin andbetween states.Cultural “planetarity”might playthe same role. Cf. Jürgen Habermas,“The Constitutionalization of InternationalLaw and the Legitimation Problems of aConstitution for World Society[2007],”in: Jürgen Habermas, Europe. The Faltering Project (Cambridge: Polity Press, 2009), pp. 109–130. 15 Auerbach, Philology and Weltliteratur, p. 17/p. 310. 16 ErichAuerbach, Literary Language and its PublicinLate Latin Antiquityand in the Middle Ages, trans. Ralph Manheim [1965] (Princeton:Princeton UniversityPress, 1993), p. 13. 44 Jane O. Newman philology”inassociation with theworkofEdward Said as away of acknowledging “what is no longer there.”17 Theterm can be adaptedhere to describe an Auerbachian philology for World Literature that treats, rather, whatwas and actually is “here”inall of its rich andparticular specificity,doing so,however, in fullrecognitionofits representative place in the intricate constellationthatisthe presumed, yetindescribable fullness of thesum of its myriad parts. For Auerbach, this negative philology wasthus nottruly negative. Rather, as Ishow below,itcan be best understoodintermsofthe positive form of thesacred sciencefrom which his wayofreading thewhole-in-the-part derives, namely,the theology of the thirteenth-century Dominicanphilosopher,SaintThomas Aquinas. Invokinglatemedi- eval Scholastic doctrinemay seem astrange way to challenge the Westphalianized debates abouthow to define WorldLiterature,debates which—like theTreaty of Westphalia (1648) itself, whichallegedly banned matters of faith to theinteriorized realm of “personalbelief” in order to bringthe nearly 100years of bloody religious warsthathad rolledacross Europe to an end—habitually excludereligionand its discourses from “modern” secular literary-critical studyaspotentiallydivisive, if not also irrelevant because, like belief, they are deemed subjective andunscientific.18 Spivak’s puzzlingvocabularies of transcendence andthe “non-derived” status of the planetmake sensewhenwejuxtapose them with theform such discourses took in earlier timesand for Auerbach’sgenerationinparticular, when,asBenjamin Lazier writes,“theology” was a“vehicle for commentary on thepolitical, aesthetic, and philosophicalpresent”and “not merely […] [a] parochial pursuit.”19 Rather than suggesting that it is personalpreference—or localpolitics—thatcould or should dictate any onereader’s privateorany one collective’spartisancanon,Auerbach’s Thomistically-inflectedphilology of World Literature, based on his famous concept of the Ansatzpunkt,orpoint of departure,provides amodel of how to read atextatthe level of theplanet, that is, bothfor theworld thatitcontains within itself andfor its ability to “radiate out” into “world history”and into an all-embracingworld literary universe too.20 It shouldcomeasnosurprisethatthismodel was in factquite abit less secular than is conventionallyassumedand originally alsopre-Westphalianinthe strict sense of theterm,since it reliedonaclearly pre-modern andthus differently scaled theologicalunderstanding of theall-embracing and necessarily non-hierarchizing perfection of divineCreation,describedbyAuerbachinhis 1929 book on Danteinthe followingway:

17 Cf.Emily Apter,“Terrestrial Humanism:Edward W. Said and the Politics of WorldLiterature,” in: Ali Behdad and Dominic Thomas,edd., ACompanion to Comparative Literature (Malden/Oxford: Wiley-Blackwell, 2011), pp.439–453; p. 444. 18 On Westphalianism,cf. Jane O. Newman“Perpetual Oblivion? Remembering Westphalia in aPost- Secular Age,” in: Isabel Karremann, Cornel Zwierlein, and IngaMai Groote,edd., Forgetting Faith? Negotiating Confessional Conflict in Early Modern Europe (Berlin: De Gruyter,2012), pp. 261–275. 19 Benjamin Lazier, God Interrupted. Heresy and theEuropean Imagination Between the World Wars (Princeton:Princeton University Press, 2008), p. 3. 20 Auerbach, Philology and Weltliteratur, p. 15/p. 309. Auerbach’sDante 45

St. Thomasexplained the diversity of things through the theological tenet that the world was made in God’simage.Inviewofthe fundamental imperfection of created thingsand of their essential dissimilaritytoGod, no one species of created things canpossibly achieve likenessto God. Accordinglyadiversity of createdthingsbecomes necessary, in order that in their totality, theymay approach aperfectlikenesstoGod […]. Thus,inregard to Creationasawhole, diversityislooked upon notasanantithesistoperfection, but rather as an expression of it.21 By turning to the conceptual origins in Thomism of Auerbach’s approach to World Literature, Iamnot suggesting thatthe next “new”way to construct aworld literary canonistoappealtoreligion—although it wouldcertainly be worththinking aboutthe synchronized explosions of academic discussions concerning the needtorecognizethe post-secular turnofthe worldand theneedtotheorize aproperly inclusiveWorld Liter- aturecanon, respectively.Instead, what Iamsuggestingisthatbyrepurposinghis life- longengagement with thelate medieval, Thomist poetical theology of Dante Alighieri intoatheorization of howtoapproachthe “infinite task” of an “extra-territorial”22 politicalphilology for World Literature in his essay of 1952,Auerbachwas able to definelinguistic andliterary “diversity”asasignofananti-supersessional “totality” thatwould be more than the “standardized,”“leveled,” andhomogenized world of “Esperanto”-World Literaturehefeared was becomingthe new norm.23 In what follows, Iexplorethe several contexts in which it made sense forAuerbachtounderstand Dante’s poetical theology as aversion of Thomist doctrine in thefirst place andthento refashionitintoatheory of World Literature for post-Westphalian times.

21 Erich Auerbach, Dante. Poet of theSecular World,trans. Ralph Manheim (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1961), p. 84; originally published as Dante als Dichter der irdischenWelt (Berlin/Leipzig: De Gruyter, 1929), p. 105. In what follows,Icite the English versionof Auerbach’s Dante book parenthetically,but also indicate the page numbers in theGerman edition after thepagenumbers of the English. 22 Citing theFrenchtranslation of Auerbach’s Literary Language,JérômeDavid emphasizes Auerbach’s commitment to aradicalhistoricist hermeneutic as “une tâche infinie.”Cf. Jérôme David, Spectres de Goethe. LesMétamorphoses de la “LittératureMondiale” (Paris: Les Prairies Ordinaires,2011), p. 167. On Edward Said’s approach to literature,much indebted to Auerbach’s, as “extra-territorial philologicalhumanism,”cf. Debjani Ganguly,“Edward Said,World Literature, and GlobalComparatism,”in: NedCurthoys and Debjani Ganguly,edd., EdwardSaid: TheLegacy of aPublicIntellectual (Melbourne: MelbourneUniversity Press, 2007),pp. 176–201, as citedin Apter, Terrestrial Humanism,p.440. 23 Cf. Auerbach, Philologyand Weltliteratur, p. 2/p.301,onthe “standardizing”tendencies. Auerbach had long had this fear. Some fifteen years earlier,hewrote from Istanbul to Walter Benjamin aboutthe “destructionofthe historic national character” of the Turkish languageand cultureunder Atatürk in particular, calling this asign of alooming “Esperanto” culture all over the earth. Cf. Auerbach to Benjamin,3January, 1937, in “ScholarshipinTimes of Extremes:Letters of Erich Auerbach (1933–46), on the Fiftieth AnniversaryofHis Death,” introd.and trans. Martin Elsky, Martin Vialon, and Robert Stein, PMLA 122. 3(2007), pp. 742–762; p. 751. 46 Jane O. Newman Theologus Auerbach: Auerbach’s Thomist Dante

In alecture on Dante thatAuerbach gave in 1948 at Penn State, the German-Jewish Auerbach declares that it wasthe latemedievalDominican,Thomas Aquinas, to whom Dante owed hisvision of the“powerful realism” of the afterlife. “Isthere anyexpla- nation,” Auerbachasks,“forDante’s powerful realism in rendering human individuality?” He answers immediately:The “concrete concept of humanimmortality”that we find in Dantethe Pilgrim’s ability to experience “the divine order” as aseriesof “concrete” phenomena and in Dantethe Poet’s “genius”inrenderingthatdivineorder in verse“wassupportedby[…] the Aristotelianphilosophy of St.Thomas Aquinas.”24 Auerbach’s post-war interest in Dante’s Thomism was notnew.Rather, it originated much earlier, in his pre-Mimesis,indeedpre-Istanbul years as ayoungscholar of Romance Literatures in Weimar Germany,and is developedatgreatest lengthinhis Dante.Poetofthe Secular World (1929), the book with whichhesecured hisfirst and only professorial chairinGermany,inMarburgduring that sameyear. Of particular interest here is thatbook’simportant third chapter, “The Subject of the ‘Comedy’,” in which,for some thirty pages,Auerbach takes aposition on debates about Dante’s philo- sophicalalignments in his entire oeuvre,but most prominently in the Commedia. In thesepages,Auerbachappears to be modestly well informed about the scholarship on latemedieval philosophy, bothinand of itselfand as Dante might haveknown it, and gives acompetentoverview of the debates. Butheclearly begins warming up to his topic only about half waythroughthe chapter, making thestrong claim that Dante in fact “regarded the Thomist-Aristotelianphilosophy […]asthe best possible material for apoeticwork” (p.81/p. 102), like hisown,thatsought to capture the“unity”and “unifiedworld view that he wished to set forth” (p.79/p. 99), andthus of God’s “Creationasawhole” (p. 84/p. 106). Auerbach’s accountofthisphilosophy takeson discernibly more urgency as he begins to discuss what he calls “Thomist psychology” (p. 84/p. 106). At stake are not only Thomas’ doctrinesofthe soulasthe “form of the body”(p. 85/p.106) andthusofthe “unity of the personality,” which he calls the“concordance between the body andthe soul”(p. 86/p.108), but also, andasaresult of these doctrines, Auerbachwrites, the principle of what Thomas calls Man’s habitus. An individual’shabitus is formed as aresult of the imprint of thatindividual’s “disposition” on his “substance,” which creates “the residuum in man’s soul of [the] soul’s [empirical] history”(p. 85/p.107). It is this Thomist doctrine of “concordance,”ofthe “relationbetween thesouland its acts,” thatyokes together one’s “situationinthe here- after”withone’s material history of deedsand experiences, one’s “situation on earth” (p.88/p. 110), thereby creating the incrediblerealism of Dante’s poem.More recent scholars, including Manuele Gragnolati, havestudied precisely this sameissue in Dante, namely,the question of thepoet’sposition on the“unicity”-of-the-soul doctrine

24 Erich Auerbach,“The ThreeTraits of Dante’s Poetry,”in: KarlheinzBarck andMartin Treml, edd., Erich Auerbach. Geschichte und Aktualität eines europäischen Philologen (Berlin: Kadmos,2007),pp. 414–425; pp.424–425. Auerbach’sDante 47 as it wasdebatedbymany latemedieval minds, includingBonaventure andAquinas, Roger Bacon and Albertus Magnus, andmany more.25 For Auerbach, however, it was the specifically Thomist joining at thehip of Man’s two“situations” thatwas the basis of theincredibleplasticityofthe figures in Dante’s“other”-world and revealedthe co- herenceofall of God’sCreation, in both the“worldly” (and thusnot at all“secular”) world (irdischeWelt)and theBeyond.26 ForAuerbach, thefuturetheoristofrealism in Western literature,the worldly“realism”ofDante’s Beyond was grounded in this doctrine.27 There are several questions to pose concerning theargument Auerbach makes about Dante’s Thomism,first in 1929,and then again in 1948.The first andperhaps most important oneis: how much did he actuallyknow about late medievalphilosophy and about“Thomist-Aristotelian” philosophy in particular?Noless important: Whatdid citing aspecificversionofThomism signify at thetime, both for Auerbach andin general?Answering these questions involves telling thestory of Auerbach’s sources. It is acomplex tale, butwecan begin to pickupits threads in the footnotes to the1929 book, whichindicatethe traditionoftexts he consulted to make such claims. For both general background on late medievalScholasticism andonAquinas in particular, Auerbach citestwo major sources;the first,Alois Dempf’s TheDominantFormofthe Medieval Weltanschauung (Die Hauptformmittelalterlicher Weltanschauung)(1922), the second, Étienne Gilson’s Thomism (Le Thomisme)(originally 1919, butAuerbach citesalater 1922 edition). Here Idiscussprimarily the lesser knownofthese figures, namelythe GermanCatholic philosopher Alois Dempf,althoughthere is much to consider about Auerbach’s referencestothe work of the French Thomist historianofme- dievalphilosophy,ÉtienneGilson,too.28 Auerbach’s references to Dempfthroughout the Dante book indicatethe approximate parameters of the terrainthatmustbereconnoiteredwithgreat care in order to under- standtheirplace in theseveral versions of neo-Thomism circulatinginGermany in the

25 ManueleGragnolati, Experiencing the Afterlife.Soul and Body in Dante and Medieval Culture (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 2005). 26 The translation of the titleofthe book in whichthese pages appear as “secular world” is thus misleading, sincefor Auerbach’s Dante,the worldly world is deeply informed by God’s plan. 27 Later in the Dante book, he writes: “Toput it verycautiously,itseems to me that with regardtothe DivineComedy such alimit hasalmostbeenattained when philosophical commentators begin to praiseits so-calledpoetic beautiesasavalue in themselvesand reject the system,the doctrine, and indeed theentire subject matter as irrelevancies which if anything call for acertain indulgence.” In- deed, “[t]hesubject and the doctrine of the Comedy are not incidental; they are the rootsofits poetic beauty”(p. 159/p. 196). 28 Indeed,there areparts of Auerbach’s 1929 Dante bookthatread like virtual quotations of Gilson on Thomas. Gilson writes, for example, that for Thomas: “A la fin dernière n’est pas la négation de nos fins humaines, elle les recueille au contraire en les sublimant,etnos fins humaines sont àleur tour comme autant d’imitations partiellesetdesubstituts imparfaitsdenotredernière fin”(Étienne Gilson, Le Thomisme [Paris: Vrin, 1922],p.227). Aquinas’ doctrineofthe synergism of the two realms,this world and the next, is confirmed here. Foramore recent assessment of the “theological humanity” of thefigures in Dante’s poem,cf. A. N. Williams, “The Theologyofthe Comedy,” in: Rachel Jacoff, ed., The Cambridge Companion to Dante,2nd ed. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007), pp. 201–217; p. 204. 48 Jane O. Newman late nineteenth and early twentieth centuriesinresponse to what is knownasthe ModernistHeresy withinCatholictheology. Oneofthe most virulent formsofCatholic Modernism appears to have taken root in southwesternGermany in the early to mid- nineteenthcentury, when somewhat more historical andspeculative theologians sawthe possibility for,indeed,the necessity of some kind of rapprochement betweenCatholic doctrineand “modern” Idealist philosophy,indeed, with the modern world writlarge.29 To stay relevant in this world, traditional Catholic doctrine wouldhavetoadapt.Pro- gressiveCatholics in Germany held aconferenceinMunich in 1863,atwhich themain topicwas theacademicfreedom of Catholic scholars to consider dogmaanew. Suchin- novationsobviously didnot sitwellwithRome, and several generations of popes struck back,issuing, in 1864, for example, the encyclical Quantacura,withthe “notorious Syllabus of Errors”(theso-called “Syllabus” indicatingthe 80 “errors” of “Mod- ernism”) “appended” (pp. 331–332), andthenconveningthe FirstVatican Council in 1870, at which Pastor Aeternus,the declarationofpapal primacy and infallibility was announced. Pope Leo XIII coordinated doctrine with thisaffirmation of papal sovereignty,issuingthe encyclical AeterniPatris in 1879, whichdeclared thetheology of St.Thomas Aquinas as normative for Catholic teaching.Starting with AeterniPatris and continuingupthrough the motu proprio, Doctoris Angelici,issuedunder Pius X in 1914, andthe Code of Canon Law, issuedunder Benedikt XV in 1917, Thomist teachingswere pronouncedmandatoryinall “Universities, Academies, Colleges, Sem- inaries, andInstitutions enjoying by apostolic indult theprivilegeofgranting academic degrees” (pp. 342–343). It would be difficulttooverestimate the impact of neo-Thomist orthodoxy on early twentieth-century Catholics in Germany. The politicaltravails of theGerman Catholic Church in Germany,inherited fromthe late nineteenth-century Kulturkampf,or“battle between[religious] cultures,”thatcontinued to be wagedonthe Church by apost-1871 hegemonic Protestant state, hadnot gone away in the immediate pre-war years, and were exacerbatedbymilitary strategy conducted underthe banner of amilitant Lutheran Kriegstheologie,orwar theology,thatallowedfor targeted bombing of cathedrals, for example, in Belgium and France.30 In the run-up to and after 1914, and thenalsoafter Versailles, thefog of warnevertheless makes the confessional battle lineshardtomake out. Helmut Walser Smith has shownthatofthe myriad party platformsonboththe left and theright,and among bothCatholics and Protestants, some vied for apiece of the nationalist pie whileothers resisted theearthly bellicosity to whichthatstancegaverise.31 It is often difficulttotell who was more nationalistor anti-nationalist, or, for thatmatter, internationalist,and to whatend. While it is clear,

29 For the following,Irely on James C. Livingston, “Movements of Recoveryand Conservation: Ultramontanism and the Neo-Thomistic Revival,” in: Livingston, Modern Christian Thought, 2nd ed., 2vols. (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2006), vol. 1, pp.327–355. Pagereferences arenoted parenthetically in thetext. 30 Cf. Jane O. Newman, “EnchantmentsinTimes of War: Aby Warburg,Walter Benjamin, and the Secularization Thesis,” Representations 105.1(2009), pp.133–167; pp. 135–139. 31 Cf. HelmutWalserSmith, German Nationalismand ReligiousConflict. Culture, Ideology, Politics, 1870–1914 (Princeton:Princeton University Press,1995). Auerbach’sDante 49 then, thatthe Jewish Auerbachgrew up in andwas assimilatedintoamore or less Protestantmilieu by virtue of his schooling in Berlin,for example, andmay havebeen influenced by Protestant teachers in Heidelberg andBerlin such as Ernst Troeltsch, all of these details make it equally as obvious that onecould nottalkinnocently about Catholic theology in general and “Thomism”inparticularatatimewhen debates were ragingbetween andamong Catholics aboutthe afterlife of the “philosophia perennis” of the saint,particularly insofar as theChurchwas (or was not) respondingto“modern” socialand politicalconditions and needs createdbyanationalist “Liberalism”and to the benefits andillsthathad been brought to theyoung German nation-state in particular by some of themoremilitarized formsof“progressive” modernity itself.32 In the outpouring of both scholarly and popular laudatios to “our Dante” in Germany in the jubileeyear of 1921 (the 600th anniversary of Dante’s death), thebattlelines were often drawn in similar ways.33 It would be difficultnot to assumeknowledgeofthese debates on Auerbach’spart. In the midst of this messy political-confessional worldofpost-war Weimar Germany, it is revealing thatinhis 1929 Dante book,Auerbachcites as one of his main sources on Thomismthe work of aman whowas bothdecidedly Catholic and decidedly ecu- menical in faith anddeed, namely,the politically anti-Liberal, butapparently pro- gressivelyanti-nationalistphilosopher, Alois Dempf (1891–1982).34 WhileDempf is perhaps most famously associated withhis later anti-Nazi treatise, German Catholics andthe Crisis of Faith (DieGlaubensnotder deutschenKatholiken), publishedin1934 under apseudonym in Switzerland, thebookfor which he wasmostwell knowninthe Weimaryears was entitled Sacrum Imperium,and waspublishedin1929.35 Auerbach of course does not cite this bookinhis book on Dante,publishedthe same year, but, rather, as noted above, Dempf’s earlier The Dominant Form of theMedieval Welt- anschauung of 1925, adense and lengthy tomeinwhich Dempfgives adetailedac- count of thegenealogy of theall-inclusive systematicthinking associatedwiththe Scholastics knownasthe Summa (which is the “dominant form”ofhis title), which,in its “all inclusive universality,” providesanantidote andalternative to the“fractured

32 Cf. thedocuments discussedinKarlheinzBarck,“ErichAuerbachinBerlin: Spurensicherung und einPorträt,” in: Barck et al., ErichAuerbach,pp. 195–214; Matthias Bormuth, “Menschenkunde zwischen Meistern⎯Erich Auerbach und Karl Löwith,”in: Barcketal., Erich Auerbach,pp. 82– 104, also argues for Protestant influences, especially Adolf vonHarnack,onAuerbach’s early thinking. 33 Cf. MirjamMansen, “Denn auch Dante ist unser!”Die deutsche Danterezeption 1900–1950 (Tübingen:Niemeyer, 2003),pp. 24–76. 34 These terms are notoriously difficult to parse in theWeimar years. To be anti-Liberal did notmean that one wasnot pro-Republic;a“progressive” Catholic might nevertheless also be apolitical conservative. Cf. Michael Hollerich,“CatholicAnti-Liberalism in Weimar: Political Theologyand its Critics.”Ms. 35 On Dempf, cf. thearticles collected in VincentBerning and Hans Maier,edd., Alois Dempf (1891– 1982). Philosoph, Kulturtheoretiker, Prophet gegen den Nationalsozialismus (Weiβenhorn: Anton H. Konrad, 1992). IciteAlois Dempf’s Die Hauptform mittelalterlicher Weltanschauung. Eine geisteswissenschaftliche Studieüber die Summa (München/Berlin: R. Oldenbourg, 1925) parentheticallyinthe text below. All translations are my own. 50 Jane O. Newman philosophy of today” (p. 1) faced by all. “The immanent order” of allofGod’s Creation is mirrored in the “inner integrity”(p. 12)ofThomas’ Summa in particular, which, at the endofthe book Dempfglowingly, if perhaps nowsomewhat counter-intuitively, calls “daringand modern” (p. 157). Thomas’ Summa was“the firstgrandachievement of the Renaissance”(p. 156), he writes, in its ability to provide amodel for an all- inclusive “universal picture of the world”and forthe “entirety of knowledge” (p. 176). In his later SacrumImperium book, Dempfgoes on to developthisthought by arguing precisely against what thetitle of thatbookappears to suggest.36 Translatedinto German, that is,“sacrumimperium”means “sacred Reich,” and would seem to endorse what later became knownas“Reichstheologie,” thetheologyofthe (Third) Reich.But what Dempfisinfact specifically arguing against in 1929 andinthe earlier book on the Summa is anykind of localized or state-sponsored,sectarian knowledgeorsystem, indeed,againstprecisely what was beingchristenedbyCarl Schmitt and others as “political theology”ataroundthis same time.37 Indeed,ina1926 article,Dempf explicitly dismisses what he calls the “divinization of thestate” andarguesfor arenewed commitment to the “bonum commune,the common good of thewhole people,” under themoral leadershipofananti-militarist (butalsosternly anti-capitalist andanti- Bolshevik) state andphilosophicalsystem on the basis of what he calls, in Sacrum Imperium,a“Christian universalism of social justice” that mirrors on earth theunityof God’s Creationthat Thomas hadset outtomap.38 Dempf’s is thus definitely not the“dominant form”ofthe conservative neo-Thomist Weltanschauung described above. Indeed, it seemsrather to suggest apassionate (theological) Modernism,morealong thelinesofwhat we later findinthe work of the French ThomistJacques Maritain(1882–1973),who in fact called on Dempf’s idea of the sacrum imperium specifically to refuteSchmitt and to arguefor theexistential urgency of acknowledginginthis life thesuperiority andauthority of theuniversal, non state-identifiedand non-particularist regnumDei,the world beyond. The association of Dempfwith this other form of a“modernizing” neo-Thomism makes sense.During these same years, he published frequently in Hochland,the Catholic journal of the time.39 The titleisdifficulttotranslate; it literally means “high land,”but signifiedthe higherrealm of God, to thereality of which allmustattend as they live their lives here below.Interestingly, Hochland was foundedin1903 specifically as avenue for the staging of an encounter of modern literaturewiththe Catholicfaith.Targeted forplace- ment on theIndexfor its troubles during theanti-Modernism years, the journaland its

36 Cf.Alois Dempf, Sacrum Imperium. Geschichts-und Staatsphilosophie des Mittelaltersund der politischenRenaissance (München/Berlin:R.Oldenbourg, 1929). 37 Cf.Sylvio Hermann De Franceschi,“Ambiguïtés historiographiques du théologico-politique. Genèse et fortune d’un concept,” Revue historique 3. n° 643 (2007), pp.653–685; pp. 666–667. 38 Cf. Alois Dempf “Der großdeutsche Gedanke,” in: Max Ettlinger, Philipp Funk, and Friedrich Fuchs,edd., Wiederbegegnung von Kirche und Kultur in Deutschland: Eine Gabe für Karl Muth (München:Kösel &Pustet, 1927), pp.207–217,ascited in Hollerich, Catholic Anti-Liberalism in Weimar,p.12and p. 20, respectively. 39 On Hochland,cf. Konrad Ackermann, Der Widerstand der Monatsschrift Hochland gegenden Nationalsozialismus (München: Kösel, 1965),especially pp.19–27,onthe early years. Auerbach’sDante 51 supporters went on to experienceapost-World War Oneshift of focus, when it opened its pages to more directly political pieces by menwhose work Auerbach knew,including Dempfand the Catholic philosopher, Romano Guardini, on whoseworkAuerbach explicitly relied in his reading of Pascal.40 Guardini, Dempf, and others nevertheless continuedtouse readings of literature to comment upon contemporary issues. Dempfwas also involved,finally,with another high-profile interdisciplinary journal called DasAbendland (The Occident), foundedin1925byHermann Platz, aleading scholar in Auerbach’sprofessional field of Romance Studies andspokesman forthe Catholic Center Partyinthe Weimaryears. DasAbendland wasone of the major Euro- peanist—whichistosay anti-nationalist—literary and cultural publications of thepost- WorldWar Oneyears, andwewould do well to recall its high profileduring thevery years thatAuerbach was launching his academic career in thefield.41 We mayalsowant to reconsiderhow thesubtitle of Mimesis:“Dargestellte Wirklichkeitinder abendländi- schen Literatur,” has been translatedtodate, andperhaps render it insteadas“The Re- presentationofReality in Occidental Literature” to mark theEuropeanist-internationalist character of thecontext out of whichthese journals grew as well as their—andperhaps alsoAuerbach’s—commitment to reading literatureasaway of reflecting on what unites nations,thus furthering theprojectofunderstandingthe “commongood of all people” from aprogressive Catholic anddecidedly anti-statist pointofview.Tounder- stand,inother words, both the poeticaland thepolitical implicationsofAuerbach’s 1929 citation of Dempf’s presentationofwhat Dempfcalls the“dominantform”ofme- dieval philosophy,namely,Aquinas’ Summa,for what Auerbachin1929 calls Dante’s “summa vitae humanae”42 in the Commedia and, in turn, theafterlifeofhis understanding of Dante’s poetical theologyfor his theory of World Literature, it is important to consider it in thecontext of thepoliticaland literary-critical advocacy projects being conductedwithin aThomist frameduring the Weimar periodand beyond, debates that were apparently also taking place directly withinAuerbach’s professional fieldof Romance Literary Studies.43 Given this context, his discussionofDante’s poetical theology in his1929bookmay be understoodasmore than simply adiscussionofstyle. Indeed,herefers there somewhat obliquely to the challengesfacingthe particularist

40 Cf.JaneO.Newman, “Force andJustice: Auerbach’s Pascal,”in: Graham Hammill and Julia Reinhard Lupton, edd., PoliticalTheologyand Early Modernity (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2012), pp.159–180. 41 Hollerich in CatholicAnti-Liberalism in Weimar indicates thatDempf triedtoget Schmitt to write for Das Abendland.He(Dempf) nevertheless openlyrejects Schmitt by 1934. TheconceptofDas Abendland,the Occident, was of course not entirely innocent.Onthe journal andthe manycircles in whichthe term was used, cf. Vanessa Conze, Das Europa der Deutschen. Ideen von Europa in Deutschland zwischen Reichstradition undWestorientierung (1920–1970) (München: R. Oldenbourg,2005), especially pp. 27–56. 42 Auerbach, Dante,p.93/p. 118. 43 On the larger context of the focusonthe Occidentand on Germany’s role as aRomance Allemanic (rather than Germanic) nation during this period,asproclaimed explicitlybythe Catholic intelligentsia,cf. Richard Faber,“Third Reich and Third Europe: Stefan George’s Imperial Mythologies in Context,” in: Melissa S. Lane andMartin A. Ruehl, edd., APoet’sReich. Politics and Culture in the George Circle (Rochester:CamdenHouse, 2011), pp.251–268. 52 Jane O. Newman politicalworld-system of theinter-war years and therelevance of turning to Thomist doctrinefor conceptual solutions when he alludes to Dante’s understandingofthe “God-givenbalancedorder [both] on earth” andinthe Beyondasa“generalphilo- sophicaland historicalview,” which,“despite its failure in history, has eventoday” (noch jetzt), “inanentirely different world, inspired some of the most lucidand au- thenticpoliticaland historical thinking.”44 Theseeds for his later conceptualizationofa “balanced” philology of World Literatureinyet another “entirely different,” bilaterally homogenized ColdWar world, in which preserving thedense particularity of multiple traditions as part of Man’s “commonfate” wasevenmoreearnestly the task, maywell havebeen plantedhere. We can pickupthe paththatleads from the version of these early twentieth-century discussions of Thomism that we see in Auerbach’s book on Dantetohis later theoryof World Literature in theversion of theOccidentalliterarycanonhelays out in Mimesis, thebookhefamously wrote during hiseleven years of exileinIstanbul,looking back on aEurope, an “Abendland,” in flames, an exile which had begunofcourse in 1935 and thus at atimewhenthe confessionaldebates described abovewerestill goingfull force.45 In the all-important transitionfrom the Dante chapter (chapter eight)tothe Boccaccio chapter (chapter nine) in Mimesis,for example, Auerbach claimsthatthe impact of theThomist unity-of-body-and-soul thesis, which is what lies behind the poet’s ability to have the“beyondbecomeastage for[all] human beings andhuman passions”(p. 201/pp. 192–193) in such acompellingway,the impact of this “concordance”issostrongthatthe “direct experience of life” in the poem counter-intuitively “overwhelmseverythingelse” (p.201/p.193). Readers of the Commedia “experience an emotionwhichisconcerned with human beings andnot directlywith thedivine order in whichtheyhavefoundtheir fulfillment” (p. 201/p.193).Thus, Auerbach claims, “the principle, rootedinthe divineorder, of the indestructibility of the whole historicaland individualman turns against that order, makes it subservient to its own purposes, andthus obscuresit.” The result?“The image of maneclipses theimage of God” in thepoem (p. 202/p. 193). As “danger[ous],” he continues,asthe worldly “farcical realism”ofthe late medieval mystery playsmay have been for the“figural- Christian view of things,”Dante’s Thomist “style” is much more dangerous, for in their individualpoetical-theological“fulfillment” of God’s universal plan for Mankindinthe

44 Auerbach, Dante,p.96/p. 120. On theorigins of much inter- and post-war political thinking about transnational cooperation in the specificallyCatholic and European politicalcontext to which Auerbach was certainlyalsoalluding, cf.Michael Gehler and Wolfram Kaiser, “Toward a‘Core Europe’inaChristian WesternBloc: Transnational Cooperation in European Christian Democracy, 1925–1965,”in: Thomas Kselman and Joseph A. Buttigieg,edd., European Christian Democracy. Historical Legacies and Comparative Perspectives (Notre Dame:UniversityofNotre Dame Press, 2003), pp.240–266. 45 In what follows, Icite Erich Auerbach, Mimesis. TheRepresentation of Reality in Western Literature [1953],50th Anniversary ed. with introd. by Edward W. Said, trans. Willard R. Trask (Princeton: PrincetonUniversity Press, 2003), originally published as Mimesis. Dargestellte Wirklichkeit in der abendländischen Literatur (Bern: Francke Verlag,1946),parenthetically in thetext. The page referencestothe German edition follow the page references to theEnglish translation in the text. Auerbach’sDante 53 Beyond, his “figures” (here, the characters of the historical human beings he represents in the Commedia)appeartobecomepoetically “independent” (p. 202/p.193) of that plan. Shorn of the eschatological casing of their Thomistrealism,they becomemerely “worldly”inthe reader’s mind. Theliterary-historicalrepercussionsofwhatAuerbach characterizes here as the desa- cralizationofThomist universal-humanist “realism”inthe Commedia for the move into amodernity of particularist, even localist literary realismbecome clear in thevery next chapter of Mimesis,“Frate Alberto,” whichisabout Boccaccio’s famously secular—and specifically Venetian—farceinDay IV,story 2, of the Decameron.Inthe last part of the Dantechapter in Mimesis,Auerbachwrites of the“danger”(p. 193/p. 202) associated with theocclusion of theThomist frame. Here, in an ominous language of loss, the1946 Mimesis echoes thevery lastwords of Auerbach’s1929bookonDante,in which he describes realism’s fate in much thesameway.Inthe final chapter of the 1929 book,whichtakes as itssubject the“survival” of Dante’s “vision of reality”inthe history of “European representation”46 (and thus represents akindofdry-run for Mimesis), Auerbach hadwrittenthat“Dante’s Thomist world view” was “swept away by therationalism of theseventeenthand eighteenth centuries.” “Nopoetorartistafter Danterequiredanultimate, eschatologicaldestiny in order to perceive the unity of the human person,”helaments. As aresult, “Dante’s work remainedalmostwithout influence on thehistory of Europeanthought” (pp. 176–177/p.214).“But” (“[a]llein,” p. 177/p.215)—and theeleventh-hourshifts in argumentativedirectioninAuerbach’s essays are legion,and worthpondering—“but,” Auerbachwrites, this is notthe whole storyofthe afterlife of Thomist doctrine in this brave, new, and“modern” literary world. Indeed, Dante’s abilitytorebirththe “historical individual” in his poetry in each individual’s—and thus alsoinall of Mankind’s commoncreaturely—“manifest unity of body andspirit”inaway that implicates thecarnalinthe transcendent in factled a robustsecret afterlife in post-Enlightenment literature. Eveninliterature writtenby “very un-Christian artists” like Boccaccio, he claims, the “Christianforce and tension” of Dante’s poetry are “preserved” (p. 178/pp. 216–217).47 This is really an extraordinary claim,for what Auerbachisarguing here is that pulsingbeneath the surface of “modern,” secular mimeticwork, withits focus on men’s “individualdestin[ies]” in thesub-lunar world, is the“eschatologicalvision”ofGod’s divineCreationinthe Commedia as that vision “flowed back into real history.” The “fully immanent autonomy”ofall dimensions anddetails of the “historical world,” as representedbyBoccaccio,mustinfact be read as actually “secretly linked” with Dante’s “eschatological vision,”compelling only because its realism had drunkofthe bloodofthe “authentictruth”ofaThomist Dantefirst (the image is Auerbach’s). It is

46 Auerbach, Dante,p.174/p.212.Inwhat follows, page references to both editions are noted parentheticallyinthe text. 47 Forthe important debate aboutAuerbach’s version of Boccaccio’s “secularization” of Dante’s system,cf. Albert R. Ascoli, “Boccaccio’s Auerbach Holding theMirror Up to Mimesis,” Studisul Boccaccio 20 (1991–92), pp. 377–397. For an (indirect) response that appears to confirm Auerbach’s reading of the Decameron,cf. TobiasFoster Gittes, Boccaccio’s Naked Muse. Eros, Culture, and the Mythopoetic Imagination (Toronto:UniversityofToronto Press, 2008). 54 Jane O. Newman forthisreason, andthisreason alone,that“man’searthly,historical reality” andthe messy details of every individual’s mundane life have anyability at allinsubsequent literaturestoconvey theurgency of Mankind’s “ultimate fate”asitisderivedfrom the particulars of his or her“concrete[…] life”(p. 178/p. 217). This new“realism,” based as it is on the“gravedangers formimesis,” on the final autonomy, yet also fundamental dependencyofthis worldonthe BeyondasDantescripted it, in other words, is nevertheless also full, Auerbachwrites, of “rich newpossibilities” (p. 179/p. 218). Despite theapparentlossofthe Thomist frame to which he alludes, then, theafterlives of Dante’s unifying figuralisminthe crowded particularisms of modern Occidental realism,whose embeddeddetails Mimesis goes on to track, are in fact deeply indebted to it. The taskofliterature is to “represent” the “unity” of the “world view” (p. 79/p. 99). The universal common project of all traditions, indeed, of all Humanity, is preserved even in the apparently most localand profaneoftexts.

Post-Westphalian World Literature: Auerbach’s “Philology and Weltliteratur”

In Mimesis,Auerbachproposes that themodern fulfillment of the figura of Dante’s Thomist achievement occursinits secret(or not-so-secret) inheritanceofthe medieval figuralframe, aframewhoseorigins andimportance he learned to see in thepossibility of aunified and unifyingThomist visionofthe worldasfilteredthrough Dempf. Auerbach’sclaim that what undergirds thepowerfulimpact on thereader of modern realismispoeticaltheology, the memory,orcondensation, in each individual literary event of adivinely-guaranteed, grander unity in theorder of Creationinwhich allmen share,has consequences for the constitution of the western andthe world literary canons. Re-readingAuerbachonWorld Literature throughthe lens of his engagement with what he identifiedasThomist thoughtinfact makes it possibletocreateananti- progressivistand anti-telicparadigm for tellingthe history of the“representation of reality in [not justoccidental] literature,” anew, de-territorialized literary history,in other words, precisely because Thomas’s model treats allparticularsasequalbecauseof their equi-distance to the(divine)whole.Let us recall Auerbach’s account of Thomist thinking(quoted above) in his1929bookonDante: [T]he philosophical doctrine [Dante] followed set great storebyindividual forms and seemed to justifytheir portrayal. St. Thomas explained thediversityofthings through the theological tenet that theworld was made in God’s image. In view of thefundamental imperfection of created things andoftheir essentialdissimilaritytoGod,noone species of created thingscan possibly achieve likenesstoGod. Accordinglyadiversity of created thingsbecomes necessary,inorder that in theirtotalitytheymay approach aperfect likenesstoGod […].Thus, in regard to Creation as awhole, diversityislooked upon not as an antithesistoperfection, butrather as an expression of it.(p. 84/p.105) The matter is somewhat differentlyframedinthe famous1952article, “Philology and Weltliteratur,” but that it harks backtoaThomist model is notsurprising, giventhe re- Auerbach’sDante 55 cursive temporality of Auerbach’splanetary visioninthatessay,whichhefamously concludes by suggestingthat“we must return, in admittedly alteredcircumstances,to the knowledge that pre-nationalmedievalculture already possessed: theknowledge that spirit(Geist)isnot national.”48 Indeed, in “Philology and Weltliteratur,” Auerbach offers aphilological model that is based preciselyonakind of “slow” “reading” that scornssupersessionalorany kind of hierarchicallogic at all, arguing that one ought always to begin withaparticular, concrete Ansatzpunkt,and read in “centrifugal” fashion (p. 15/p. 309) outward fromit. Agood “point of departure,” or “place to begin,” is one that has astrong “radiating power” for “interpretation,” which consists in aseries of what Auerbach calls“elaborations,” the “component parts of which hang together[…] [in] an ordered exposition” that “possesses unity and universality,”and allow us to “deal with world history”even as we engage the “particular” (pp. 14–16/pp.308–309). Theattention to the particularinthis mode of readingprovidesaway of dealing with what he refers to as the “copiousness of the material,” but avoids mere “agglomeration”(pp. 12–13/p.307), and also counters acts of literary-historical forgetting and occlusion of specificity. Indeed, what Auerbach finds most troubling is the “undermin[ing]” of “all [ofthe] individual traditions,”that, having their origininwhathecalls the “felixculpa”of“mankind’sdivision into many cultures,” are now threatened by the “standardiz[ation],” the flattening out and homogenization of world literature in ahopelesslydichotomizedpost-war, Cold Warworld(p. 2/p.301). The insertionofthe vocabulary of theFallofMan,theorized, as Auerbachknew, by Augustine, Thomas, and many others, stands outinwhat is ultimately asecularized versionofhis pleafor aphilology capable of preserving thediversity of literatures and cultures, based notonthe relativism thatRenéWellek, forexample, foundso problematicinAuerbach’swork, but, rather, on acquiring a“conception of manunified in itsmultiplicity”(p. 4/p. 302). For Auerbach,aphilology for WorldLiteratureofthe kind he desiresmustbebased on acknowledging “the diverse background of a[single, shared]commonfate” (p. 7/p. 304). The parallels thatthisversion of aphilology for World Literature displayswith the Thomist logic he discoveredinDante’s realism seem apparent.Inthe 1948 lecture on Dante,for example, Auerbach speaksofthe “infinite variety of human life,”the “several hundred individuals” of allclasses andtimes, that crowdthe “three realms” of Dante’s poem,each withhis and her own “unmistakable peculiarity,” “intensified, more concentrated” in the“eternal” thaninthe “temporal” order.49 Each one “enter[s] the soul of thereader” “immediately” and with great “emotional and poeticalpower”in equalparts (p. 414), yet no one figure replaces anyother; all are co-presentinthe sight of God. Theirrealism and our ability to recognize their“humanindividuality”are the result of thespecific place each one of themoccupies.But this is also aspace thatheor sheshares with all theother individual figures in thepoeminuniversally directrelation,

48 Auerbach, Philology and Weltliteratur,p.17/p. 310. In what follows,pagereferences to both edi- tionsare noted parenthetically in the text. 49 Auerbach, TheThree Traits of Dante’s Poetry,pp. 423–424. In what follows, page references are noted parenthetically in thetext. 56 Jane O. Newman withouthierarchy,tothe “divine order […] of theuniverse as a[nall] pervading pattern” (pp. 424–425). According to Auerbach, it wasnot just in the Commedia that Dante offered his ownpoetryasamodel for this kindofreading.Inthe 1929 Dante book, he describes eventhe early lyric as,ineachcase, “aris[ing] complete andreal, fromanessential center,” a“concretepoint of departure” (here, “Ausgangspunkt”) such as Beatrice’s salutation, her recognition of Dante, to which the poet in every case “holds firm.”50 “Each poem [both captures and] is an authentic event,” “unique andcon- tingent,”but,“by akind of counteraction,”destinedto“expandinto theuniversal […] to becomeanimmutablevision of reality in general” (p.68/p.85).Fromhere, it is not far to the Thomist logic thatlies at thefoundation of the Commedia,and Auerbach goes on to claim that “the Thomist-Aristotelian philosophy […] starts fromsensory per- ception, which insists […] on theparticularity of perceptible earthlyformsand builds up an imaged”visionofthe “universe” (p.81/p. 101). In this universe, theparticular— anyparticular—is readbothfor itself and as part of alargersystem which contains both it andeverything else. Aphilology for World Literaturebased on this model will like- wiserecognize what is specific to any particular text,but alwayswithinthe horizonof the unity of theworldliterarycanonwhich thatindividualtextconstitutesand confirms. Auerbachreadand rereadthe late medievalpoet, Dante, throughout his entire life, and wrote essay after essay on pre- and early modern Christian theology.Asheturned to theprojectofdescribing aphilology forWorld Literature in 1952 in thewakeoftwo devastating world wars andasheconfronted asimmering Cold War, theideaofbasing aschematic forimagining adifferentkindof(highly idealized) literary-historical modernity on an only minimally occludedCatholic doctrinethatcalled for aunified Mankind maywell have made sense. He wasneither the first nor theonlyman (or woman) of letters eitherinthe United States or in Europetohavefound world literary study of such vital importanceatthe time. Fromthe ClassicistGilbert Murray’s presi- dency of theLeague of Nations-sponsoredCommittee on Intellectual Co-operation, beginning in 1926, to theComparatist FernandBaldensperger’s work with the League of Nations-affiliate, theInternational Committee on Modern Literary History,beginning in 1928, to,finally,the foundingofthe InternationalComparativeLiteratureAsso- ciation in 1954 andofthe American Comparative Literature Association in 1960,literature scholars around the world spokeand wrote of theimportance of world literary cooperation andstudy for the“welfare” of both anationaland planetary “body politic” in these years.51 An especially significant proponent of this cause wasinfact FritzStrich, the dedicatee of the essay in which Auerbach mediates aloud on thefate of WorldLiter-

50 Auerbach, Dante,p.44/pp. 56–57. In what follows, page references to both editions are noted parentheticallyinthe text. 51 For thecomposition andwork of these League of Nations-affiliated committees in the1920s, cf. http://www.lonsea.de/pub/org/594 and http://www.lonsea.de/pub/org/903 (retrievedJuly 3, 2013). On theColdWar-era concerns of U.S. basedComparatists, cf. Werner P. Friederich, “On the Integrity of Our Planning,” pp. 9–22; pp.14–15;and H.V.S. Ogden, “On Defining the Humanities,” pp.53–63; p. 54,bothin: HaskellM.Block, ed., TheTeaching of World Literature. Proceedings of the Conference at the University of Wisconsin, April 24–25, 1959 (ChapelHill: University of North Carolina Press, 1960). Auerbach’sDante 57 ature in 1952. In his most famous book, Goethe andWorldLiterature,published in Bern in thesameyear and by the same press as Mimesis,Strich writes that histhoughts on thesubject go backtoaseriesoflectures he held in London “after the world war of 1914 to 1918,”atatimewhen he considered it hisdutytoengageinprojects devoted to “the reconciliationofnations”; he then goes on to describe how importantGoethe and the topic of world literature becamefor him again when he relocatedtoSwitzer- land, thehomeofthe League of Nations,where “representatives of all nations” were calledtogether to confer on how to “abolish war.” Now, yetagain, in thefallof1945, when “peace”has once againfinally been (perhaps only provisionally)achieved, Strich turns to Goethewith renewedurgency,hewrites, this timetoGoethe as a“citizenofthe world,” at atimewhen everyone wasonthe lookoutfor the building blocks of anew “house of nations” more stablethanthe oneerected some severaldecadesbefore.52 It is more thanlikely that Auerbachwould have reviewed Strich’sbookashesat down to write“Philology and Weltliteratur.” Thediction of theopeningpages of the essay certainlysuggeststhathedid.The two men’s common exilicfate as German Jews in thecontext of Hitler’s Germany makesitclear howimportantthe projectofrein- ventingaproject of common humanpurpose, tolerance, anduniversal rightsinthe midst of the aftermath of ahalf centuryormoreofconflicts undertaken under the banner of ruinous state particularismswould have been to both of them.53 Specifically for Auerbach, however, who hadcontinued to work on Dante both in exile andafterhis emigrationtothe United States, looking back to pre-modern times for models of how to manage both world literatureand worldpeaceatthe trans- or supra-national levelin termsofapre-Westphalian Thomism made particular sense. In the World Literature essay,Auerbach laments thepassing of an era when the“fruitful multiplicity”ofworld literary diversity couldbeacknowledged and seeks away to promote “mutual understanding” that couldensure arecognition of our “diverse” participation in Mankind’s “commonfate”—this instead, as he writes there, of solving antagonisms“through ordeals of sheerstrength,”stillthe default response in adangerouslydichotomized post- war world.54 This is Thomist language usedtoparse how to respond to theColdWar. Ironically,one of the reasons why the relationship of Auerbach’sintricateargument in his work on Dante about Thomist poetical theology to thelater highly politicizedphi- lology of theWorld Literature essay mayhave beenoverlookedtodatecan be foundin the very briefest of introductions that none other thanEdwardSaidwrote to accompany

52 FritzStrich, Goetheund dieWeltliteratur (Bern: Francke Verlag, 1946), pp.7–10.Mytranslation. 53 There hasbeen littlecommentaryonStrich’s Judaism (of which Auerbach would have been aware) in thecontextofhis claimsabout World Literature. On Strich’s prescientanti-nationalisminan explicit addressonthe 200th anniversaryofLessing’s birth in 1929,cf. Wilfried Barner, “Lessing 1929.Momentaufnahme einesKlassikersvor demEnde einerRepublik,”in: Wilfried Barner,Martin Georg Dellin, Peter Härtling,and Egidius Schmalzried,edd., Literatur in der Demokratie.Für WalterJenszum 60. Geburtstag (München: Kindler,1983), pp. 439–456, especiallypp. 447–448. On thetradition of pre-1933 Jewish reception of Goethe,cf. Wilfried Barner, “JüdischeGoethe-Verehrung vor 1933,” in:Barner, Pioniere, Schulen, Pluralismus.Studien zurGeschichte undTheorie derLiteraturwissenschaft (Tübingen: Niemeyer, 1997), pp. 129–149. 54 Auerbach, Philology and Weltliteratur,p.7/p.304. 58 Jane O. Newman his1969translation (with Maire Said) of “Philologie der Weltliteratur.” In theintro- duction to theirtranslation, theSaids characterizethe 1952 essay as a“major theoretical statement,”tobesure, butalso as an account of Auerbach’s “work and mission as a Phi[lo]log of the oldtradition” (p. 1). Some forty years on, in hisintroduction to the 50th anniversary edition of Mimesis,Said intensifiesthe version of traditionalism often associated with Auerbach’sessay and the canonofWorld Literature with which he worked when he (Said) calls it “autumnal,” “nobly inten[ded]” in itsmissionof theorizing“the unity of humanhistory,”55 but oldfashionedand outofdate. Without understandinghow his earlier understanding of Thomism resonates in Auerbach’s call for world-literary unity in diversity in 1952, it is difficult to seejust how serious Auerbachwas in that essayabout rooting his understanding of World Literatureina version of “prenationalmedieval culture.”56 Reconsidering Dante’s poeticaltheologyas apoint of departure forAuerbach’s new political philology allows us to seehow timely this “traditionalism”was—and couldperhapsbeagain.

55 Auerbach, Mimesis,p.xvi. 56 Auerbach, Philology and Weltliteratur,p.17/p.310. AYMAN A. EL-DESOUKY Beyond Spatiality: Theorising the Local and Untranslatability as Comparative Critical Method

In 1990,ClaudeSimon wasinvited to participate in theCairo International Book Fair. As celebratedEgyptian novelist NaguibMahfouz hadbeenawarded theNobelPrize for literature only two years earlier, in 1988,and Simon three years beforethat, in 1985, it wasdecidedthat apublic panelshouldbeplanned in which both figures would participate. Mahfouz confided to Mohamed Salmawi, Egyptian critic and Mahfouz’s closest andmosttrusted friend in his late years, before theday of thepanel:“What shall Isay to this man? Iread his novels but didnot really understand much of his work!”1 Andit is true. Thetwo writers could nothavebeenmoredifferent in their styles and literary sensibilities. Later on,Salmawi recordedtheir brief encounter on theway to thepanel. After afew brief words, Claude Simon remarked howMahfouz wasunique in his ability to evolve from one styletoanother, whereashecould only write in onesingular style.Salmawi then recountsfor us thefollowing exchanges: Mahfouz then turned to Simon and asked about his views on theart of thenovel. Simon replied that its effect should follow fromlanguage thesameway music springs from melody. In order to achieve this effectitcan deployall availableliterary tools, including those of the tale or story. But the way the storyisapproached must be different from that of writing achildren’s story, or the way apersonrecounts an incidenthehad witnessed on the road. That is, it must move away as far as possible from chronological,linear narration. At this point Mahfouz remarked:‘That’s really notverydifferentfrom the style of the Qurʾānin narrating astory. We find for example elements of the story of Maryaminone chapter or sūra and then other parts of the storyinmanyother chapters, the sameistrue for the storyofJoseph, and so on.’ Claude Simonreplied,with signs of amazement on his face: ‘This is the first timeIhear of this! But we mustn’t forget that theQurʾānisawork of literature as well as aHolyBook.’2 Thisbrief encounter is most telling in many ways, and there are complex arguments to be made. But for now Iwish to articulatebriefly afew critical observations, for thesake

1 MohamedSalmawi, FīḤaḍratNaguib Mahfouz [“In the Presence of Naguib Mahfouz”] (Cairo: Al- Dar al-Misriyyaal-Lubnaniyya, 2012), p. 92.Mytranslation. 2 Salmawi, FīḤaḍratNaguibMahfouz,pp. 94–95.Mytranslation. 60 Ayman A. El-Desouky of ultimately arguing beyondspatiality,beyondthe recentragingdebates surrounding comparativemethod’s “commitment to cartography”and to a“poetics of distance.”3 The aim is eventually to arrive at thesuggestion of acomparative critical method in which conceptuallanguages and discoursesofknowledge are hermeneutically engaged acrosslanguages andtraditions through centralconceptsthat remain untranslatedinthe targetlanguage of critical discourse, as alocus of irreducible difference. Theideawas conceivedwhileworkingonthe hermeneutics of proclamation in the differentmono- theistictraditions, andonhow theconceptions of theWord in eachtraditioninform particular narrative practices andaparticular languageexperience. The initial project becameeven more urgent in the context of debates on approachestoworld literature and in view of theneedtoimplicatecriticaland theoretical discourses in these debates—notjust for thepositionality of the critic or theorist, whoisfar fromimmune to institutionalpractices andthe hold of disciplinary formations within and evenoutside of institutions,asHosam Aboul-Ela hasargued.4 But more crucially for the sake of the conceptual languages of knowledgeproduction in non-European discourses which remain invisible in thedebates. My ownargument here hastodowith thecirculation of concepts as analytic tools beyond (but alsobringing alongwiththem)their hermeneutic provenances, more than with the geohistorical location(Edward Said’s “Travelling Theory”thesis) of particular theorists and their theories, or even their genderedembodi- ment (one of Spivak’smain arguments). The circulation of critical and theoretical conceptstoo comes with power differentials that havetodowith what constitutes knowledge in disciplinary practices. The

3 Cf. Nirvana’s Tanoukhi’s excellent article, making thecase forcomparative method’s “carto- graphic claim to scale” not only as alogicalparadox, one that safeguards against the national and nation-based geographies,but that also holds the keytothe recentdevelopments in the burgeoning disciplinaryformations of approaches to world literature: NirvanaTanoukhi,“TheScaleofWorld Literature,” NewLiterary History 39. 3(2008),pp. 599–617. 4 Hosam Aboul-Ela has offered an excellentcritical account of what happens when we begin to includecritics andtheorists in thearguments over theworld republic of letters offered by Pascale Casanova andthe ensuingdebates. Aboul-Ela’sreadings of Bourdieu’s argumentsoverthe implica- tion of thetheoreticianinclass structureinFrance, in Homo Academicus,and Spivak’s arguments over the gendered bodyofthe theoretician as earlyasthe famous article “Can the Subaltern Speak?” are particularly insightful examples of themateriality of thework of theory, theembodi- ment that refuses to be inventoried by thetheoreticians themselves. Cf. Hosam Aboul-Ela, “The World Republic of Theory,”tobepublished soon, parts of which were delivered during an inten- sive workshop on “Approaches to World Literature: Questions of Critical Methods Beyond Euro- centrism,” held at The School of Oriental and African Studies (SOAS), in London,organized by the Centre for Cultural, Literaryand Postcolonial Studies(CCLPS) in June 2011. Critics and theorists are as implicatedaswriters in theglobalized systemsofdomination and in institutions. Critics and theorists must thereforeraise consciousness as to the provenance of their own critical methods if we are to counter the “First World”monopoly on the production of disciplinaryknowledge, of ideas and methods.The latter is largelythe work of maintaininghegemonyatthe expense of the invisibility of othercritical traditions. BeyondSpatiality: Theorising theLocal and Untranslatability 61 question of conceptuallanguage andthe invisibility of non-Europeanknowledge- producing discourses hasbecomeeven more urgent now as the debates in world literature have beguntoopenuptorigorous theoreticalquestioning andtoother disciplinary methods, signalling radical shifts towards world literature becoming adiscipline in its own right. Aquick perusal of the contents of the recent volume The Canonical Debate Today: Crossing Disciplinary and Cultural Boundaries5,clearly attests to the most recent phaseinthe debatesasone of intersectingwithother disciplines andan overall criticaland theoretical firming up of theearly practicesand theircultural, political, historical andinstitutional contexts. In the contextsoftheserecent debates, the debatesonnarrative and textuality, beyondgenre-basedapproachesand top-downdivisions of written andoralliteratures, haveemerged as centraltoour understanding of the literary productionofother cultures. Within this particular set of debates, the approachestofoundationaltexts, includ- ingthe recent approaches to theQurʾānasaworkofliterature, have gainednew centrality.The return to philology andthe cross-cultural debates over issues of textuality and narrative discourses alsocoincidewith recentradical shifts in literary studies within Area Studies, where theexpertise still lies. My reflections here are, however,aimed at approaching theQurʾānnot in thecontext of recent Qurʾānscholarshipbut in relationto the recent debates on worldliterature.The recent turn to literary approaches in Qurʾānic studiesand theturntophilology in theserecent debates seem to share certain phil- ologicalassumptions, constituting genealogies that go back to Auerbach andSpitzer and their generation, andevenbeyondtoGoethe’s time.6 Andyet they curiously seem to switchroles, for the world literaturescholar turns nowtothe exploration of new formsoftextuality andtheirhistories andtothe historicalspecificities of language experience,whilethe Qurʾānscholarturns to theliterary in theQurʾānictexts by drawing mostly on typological modes and classicalassumptions of what constitutes literariness in atext—much as happened in early biblical studies, at least tillNorthrop Frye’s no- table attempt at delineatingthe nature of thevoice “onthe otherside of thepoetic,”7 in hiscelebrated phrase. Thequestion of approachingnarrativeinthe Qurʾānhinges on thenature of Qurʾānic voice, or Naẓm (literally “stringing togetherofpearls or verses”),8 aparticularlanguage

5 David Damrosch, “ComparativeWorld Literature,” in: Liviu Papadima, David Damrosch, and Theo D’haen,edd., The Canonical Debate Today: Crossing Disciplinary andCultural Boundaries (Amsterdam/NewYork:Editions Rodopi B. V., 2011), pp.169–178. 6 Cf.JérômeDavid’s recent work,especiallyhis Spectres de Goethe: les métamorphoses de la “lit- térature mondiale” (Paris: Les Prairies Ordinaires,2011). 7 NorthropFrye, Words With Power: BeingaSecond Studyof‘The Bible and Literature’(New York: Viking,1990), p. 101. 8 Thereisacontinuous bodyofscholarship on the question of Naẓm in theQurʾānsince the 9th century, defining it here simply as voice is ashorthand on my part.Other than defining it in traditional linguistics and works of exegesis as literally thestringing together of words and verses in the Qurʾān, scholars arestill debating the precisenature of its unique operations on the level of 62 Ayman A. El-Desouky style of dialogic voice, resonantsyntacticstructures andrhythmicrepetitions.The style is seemingly discontinuous, disjointed and hardly offers straightnarratives—much as Mahfouzattemptedtoexplain to Claude Simon. It demands responseonthe levelofthe singleverse or cluster of verses, as it wasrevealed, andthereby engages thepersonal temporality andbiographical-historical-sacred imagination of thehearer or reader,tofill in details of the larger narratives of monotheistic revelations.What is most significant is thatthis discontinuity inspires an inevitableuniqueness of individualresponse, anew form of subjectivity in dialogue with thedivine as it were.9 The receiverofthe word becomes also simultaneously an interpreter of the word, entering throughthe personaland the sacred imaginary an already interpreted space(actually named in the Qurʾānas anbā’al-ghayb or “news/accountsofthe unknown”), much as Levinashas arguedinthe Hebrew traditions andBultmann hasarguedfor asituationoffaith in an existentialthe- ology.The nature of theproclamatory voice in theQurʾān, its modes of utteranceand thespeaker-addresseesituation are clearlydifferent from the narrative-based Kerygma or “proclamatory voice” in the New Testament, whether it is thetext-as-person,orthe word of preaching or thepersonalised narrative of conversioninPauline theology. Naẓm and Kerygma (already aGreek term that is samed,orleft untranslated,inEuro- peancriticaland theological discourses) are two veritable untranslatables, andboth havecrucial implications for the arts of narration as theyemanate from particular language experiences. If Simon is right andnarrative arts must flow so naturally fromthe language experience,thensuchexperienceand the localised histories of receptionmust be brought to bear on theinterpretive act. Andyet, supposingthe scholar is in command of the language and itstextual traditions,the question stillremains: in what conceptual language is this knowledgeproduced? Just as there is alwaysaready defaulttoEuro- peanphilology when it comes to non-European textual traditions, there is also aready defaulttoEuropean critical and theoreticalterminology and conceptual language when it comestothe interpretationand receptionofnon-European literary works andother formsofcultural production.The invisibility of non-European intellectualtraditionsand their modern critics andtheorists—or at best their inclusionstill as primary material— ensures the continuity of such ready shifts. All theexpertise of Area Studies, which Spivakhas calledupontosupplement Comparative Literature, CulturalStudies and PostcolonialStudies,10 will surelyrun therisk of theethnographicapproaches of the

verses,chaptersorsūras and the Qurʾānictexts as awhole. Iamatpresent engaged in astudyof Qurʾānic Naẓm as aform of voice unique to Qurʾānic revelations, and therefore demanding aparticular hermeneutics of discontinuous narrative. It is worth noting thatFryehad begun to con- templatepossibilities of adiscontinuous kerygmatoward the end of his life in his LateNotebooks but tragically did not have time to pursue them. 9 Emmanuel Levinas’ hermeneutics of response is verysimilar in the way it outlines the uniqueness of individuality emerging in response to the call “beyond the verse,”tothe very fact of revelation and not justtothe content of it,see for example theseriesofstudiesin: Emmanuel Levinas, Beyond the Verse: Talmudic Readings andLectures,trans.GaryD.Mole (London: Continuum, 2007). 10 Cf. Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak, DeathofaDiscipline (NewYork: ColumbiaUniversity Press, 2003). BeyondSpatiality: Theorising theLocal and Untranslatability 63 socialsciences if it is unable to draw on theknowledgeofsuch traditions andarticulate it conceptuallyfromwithinthese traditions, introducingthe wealthofconceptual languages andterminologies intothe debatesand institutional practices. Injecting the rigour of textualanalysisinto theworkofAreaStudies couldonlybethe beginning. What is also remarkable in theanecdoteabove is theapparent exchange of posi- tionalities between Simon and Mahfouz with regard to what is perceived to be culturally different. Mahfouzisabletorecognize Simon’s experiments with language andnarrative, discontinuous anddisjointed, with referencetothe unique styleofthe Qurʾān, a culturally domesticating actoftranslationsotospeak.InMahfouz’s ownwork, however, he appropriates notthe narrative stylesofQurʾānic Naẓm butthe voicethatisable to move freelywithinhistoricalvision and socialrealities while still producing the larger vision (psychological, social, political andhistorical). Mahfouz does so forthe most part in seemingly realist style and traditional, chronological narrative, evenashe is experimenting with theformofthe novel. On his part, Simon too couldappreciate Mahfouz’s evolvement in stylebut from withinWestern categories of realism,modernism, and so on.The note of amazement toward theend signals thepossibility of aturn toward mutually negotiablepositions, butthe exchangesseem to endpreciselyatthe point where agenuine dialogue couldemerge. At this point Iwishalso to remind my readers of another perhaps better known encounter in which what is at stake is evengreater when thedialogue actually begins. My reference hereistoHeidegger’s famous 1954 “DialogueonLanguage,”11 the result of an encounterwith theJapanese Professor of German Poetry,Tezuka Tomio12.The dialogue is amasterful example of aprobingcritical consciousness attempting to under- standadifferentculture, andthe movementofthinkingisre-enactedinthe dialoguein typicalHeideggerian style,offering dramatically Heidegger’s ownthesis that “‘East and West[…] must engageindialogue at thisdeeplevel.’”13 “The Dialogue”here could standasametaphor for debates on the“world” in worldliterature andonthe globaland thelocal,and the danger reveals itself in thelanguage of aesthetics (and we can extend it to politics andculture in more recent debates) in which thedialogue transpires: I: The name“aesthetics”and what it names grow out of European thinking, out of philosophy. Consequently, aesthetic consideration must ultimately remain alien to Eastasian thinking.[…] J: Aestheticsfurnishes us with the concepts to grasp what is of concern to us as art andpoetry.

11 Martin Heidegger, “Aus einem Gespräch von der Sprache. Zwischeneinem Japanerund einem Fra- genden,” in:Martin Heidegger, Unterwegs zur Sprache (Pfullingen:Verlag Günther Neske, 1959), pp.83–155. 12 TezukaTomio was astudentofCount Kuki, whom Heidegger had met in the1930s in another significantencounter. Kuki hadnot only left astrong impression on Heidegger, he also later established aschoolofthought in Kyotowith astrong Heideggerian influence. 13 Tezuka Tomio, “An Hour with Heidegger,” in: Reinhard May, Heidegger’s Hidden Sources: East Asian Influences on his Work,trans. Graham Parkes (London: Routledge, 1996),chap. 7, pp. 59–78,p.62. 64 Ayman A. El-Desouky

I: Do youneedconcepts? J: Presumablyyes,because since theencounterwith European thinking, therehas come to light acertain incapacity in ourlanguage. I: In what way? J: It lacks thedelimiting power to representobjectsrelated in an unequivocal order above and beloweachother. […]

I: Thedanger is threatening from aregion wherewedonot suspect it, and which is yetpre- cisely the regionwhere we would havetoexperience it.[…] I: No. The danger arose from thedialogues themselves, in that they were dialogues. […]

J: The languages of the dialogue shifted everything into European. I: Yetthe dialoguetried to say the essentialnature of Eastasian art and poetry.14 Toward theend of the“Dialogue”the Inquirer begins to probeintoJapanese aesthetics with theaid of Tezuka Tomio andJapaneseterminology (Iro 色 and Ku 空,the counter- parts of Aistheton and Noeton—though theformer still have their Classical Chinese origins,justasthe latter retaintheir Greekhistories). The hermeneuticalnegotiations of such untranslatables couldoffer good grounds for acomparative critical method, and possibly for anew type of circulation, notbeyondbordersbut with borders as horizons of interpretationfusingthe localised andmappedout cartographies or hermeneutical provenances on either side.The termsofthe dialogue must keep shiftinginthe process of knowledgeproduction, and notabbreviatedinthe “timeofdiscourse,”15 to use Johannes Fabian’s sharpphraseology in hiscritiquesofanthropological method. The twoencounters could stand metonymically for the debates on the“world” and on “literature” in world literature, and theproblem in bothisthat thelanguageofthe dialogue inevitably shifts to Europeanconceptuallanguage andterminology.Notably

14 Martin Heidegger, “A Dialogue on Language: between aJapaneseand an Inquirer,” in: On the Way to Language,trans.Peter D. Hertz(New York: Harper &Row, Publishers, Inc., 1971),pp. 2–4. 15 JohannesFabian, Memory Against Culture:Arguments andReminders (Durham: Duke University Press, 2007), p. 22.By“thetime of discourse,” Fabian refers to the conceptual production of knowledge,the writing thatcomes after research wherein the knowledge that was produced through co-presence is re-presented in aconceptual language that denies the“coevalness” of the other,orin his words, “when the sameethnographers represent their knowledge in teaching and writing they do this in termsofadiscourse that consistently places thosewho are talked about in atimeother than that of theone who talks”(p. 22).See also the Prefacetohis earlier study, Time and the Other: HowAnthropologyMakes itsObject (New York:ColumbiaUniversity Press, 2002), p. xli, where he articulatesthisact as oneof“denialofcoevalness” and describes this type of discourseas “allochronic.”Fabian referstothis Preface here,but, significantly, he also refers earlier to the time of theory: “Theory has no place unless it has time…[Weneed] to reflect, not so much on theory’s place as on its time, thatis, on moments in the production of knowledgeleading from research to writinginwhich we must take positions; moments thatdetermine how we get fromone statement to another,from one storytoanother, indeed, from onesentence to another,”citing his own intro- ductorytalk to aworkshop significantlytitled “The Point of Theory,”in: Memory AgainstCulture, p. 7; see also pp. 33–51. BeyondSpatiality: Theorising theLocal and Untranslatability 65 though,Mahfouz insisted on understandingSimon’s experiments andviewsonthe art of narration in relationtolanguageinhis ownway andinrelation to theQurʾānictexts as theparadigm of discontinuous narrative. It is ratherunfortunatethatwedonot have therecords of thepublicpanel, buthad theprivate exchange continued, it wouldhave been interesting to seeinwhat conceptual terminology the dialogue wouldhave hadto takeplace. René Wellek’searly comments in 1949 on the practice of teaching world literature as betraying a“vague, sentimental cosmopolitanism,”16 perhaps refers more to what was thenavailable on theAmericanscene forthe generalreader.17 Aroundthe sametime Wellekdelivered his early remarks, the more “serious” work wasbeing undertakenon the pages of academic journals,suchasErich Auerbach’s “Philology and Welt- literatur,” which was translatedbythe youngEdward Said in 1969.But this was of a particularphilological variety, anddid nothavethe same impact on thesubsequenthis- tory of comparative literature as Auerbach’s more famous Mimesis18.Aswenow know more, Spitzer’sand Auerbach’s post-war Turkishdetour holds significancenot only for modern philology andthe early history of comparativeliterature,but also forthe early questions of world literature, even whilebothstill livedinIstanbul.19 JaneNewman has beenworking very closely on Auerbach, whose model of closereading in Mimesis is stillvery inspiringand whileithas beenstandard trainingfor allofusincomparative literature,ithas yettobeexamined for methodologicalpurposes. EmilyApter discusses how theearly connections betweenclassical philology andnationalisminthe Turkish seminars mayhavebeenthe first step toward “working through what aphilological cur- riculuminliterary studies should look like whenapplied to non-Europeanlanguages and cultures.”20 While this argument mayhave somehistorical validity,itisstill stretchingthe point if we were to remain within Europeanconceptuallanguages. Morerecently,Michael Holquistposedthe question: “[…] [W]hy invoke so relent- lessly antiquarian adisciplineinthe discussionofthe still very new phenomenon of

16 RenéWellekand Austin Warren, TheoryofLiterature (New York: Harcourt,Brace and Com- pany,1949),p.41. 17 The significance of Wellek’s 1960essay “The Crisis of Comparative Literature”and the occlusion of the American scene itself in later practices have been highlighted recently by Damroschin: Comparative World Literature,pp. 169–178. 18 Erich Auerbach, Mimesis: TheRepresentationofReality in Western Literature [1953], 50th Anniversaryed. with Introduction by Edward W. Said, trans. Willard R. Trask (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2003). 19 Seethe excellentseries of studies from the Turkisharchives includedinthe symposium which took placeinIstanbulinhonour of Said after his death, and published in: Müge GürsoySökmen and Başak Ertür,edd., Waiting forthe Barbarians: ATribute to Edward W. Said (London: Verso, 2008). 20 EmilyApter, The Translation Zone: ANew Comparative Literature (Princeton:Princeton Univer- sity Press, 2006),p.55. 66 Ayman A. El-Desouky world literature?”21 After citing amuchlongerhistorygoing back to thepriests and scholars of Sumeria, Holquistmakes aconnection between FriedrichAugust Wolf and Goethe, andultimately articulates the connectionbetween worldliterature andphilol- ogy in termsofredefining thelatterafter SheldonPollock as the critical self-reflection on language—asimilar answer to Heidegger’s hermeneuticalthesisinthe “Dialogueon Language”:Philologyasthe theory of textand textuality, hermeneutics as thetheoryof languageand thinkingonlanguage. CombiningbothwouldleadustoDerrida’sactsof rearticulating philosophy throughtranslation—as in “Plato’sPharmacy”—as Barbara Johnson andPeggy Kamufhaveargued, followed by Emily Apter, as Ishallexplain, and as JonathanRée has done in relation to translations of Heidegger’s Dasein.22 In the differential of text, language and criticalself-reflection on both, Derrida, for example, seems to alwaysthinksimultaneously of alongseries of untranslatableconcepts in the originallanguages. Theseconcepts are cited in theoriginal, or samed in thetarget language, thelanguage of critical reflection,and yet othered in thevery actofthinking and reflecting critically, as Apter has noted.23 The question of untranslatability has emerged againrecently in thefolds of the problemsofphilosophicaltranslationbetween Europeanlanguages,and in more relevant ways in the project editedbyBarbara Cassin andpublished in 2004 by Le Seuil, Vocabulaire Européendes Philosophies:Dictionnaire des Intraduisibles.AnEnglish edition of the Dictionary is currentlyunder preparationbyEmily Apter, Jacques Lezra and Michael Wood under the working title of DictionaryofUntranslatables:A Philosophical Lexicon.Emily Apter,asIshall explain later, has offered to keep sacred languagesuntranslated as part of the new project (as a“Translational Interdiction”),while keeping to the contextoftranslation, theprojectwould still entertainthe potentialfor including non-European concepts andterms.24 ThecasesofNaẓm and Kerygma are offered here, in asomewhat schematic manner andinthe mode of a“perpetual epistemological preparation,”25 as good casesinpoint,and it is notnecessarily only because they namesacred voice in different traditions.The voice,its generatedtextual modalities and thelanguage experiencethey index are alsoofsignificancetothe understandingofnarrative styles in these traditions andformal experiments with estab- lishedgenres such as thenovel.

21 MichaelHolquist“World Literatureand Philology,”in: Theo D’Haen, David Damrosch and Djelal Kadir, edd., The RoutledgeCompaniontoWorld Literature (New York:Routledge, 2012), p. 147; see also in the samevolume, David Damrosch, “Hugo Meltzl and ‘The Principle of Polyglottism,’” pp.12–20. 22 Cf.Emily Apter,“Philosophical Translation and Untranslatability: Translation as Critical Peda- gogy,” MLA Profession (2010),pp. 53–55. 23 Cf.Apter, Philosophical Translation and Untranslatability,p.54. 24 Cf.Apter, Philosophical Translation and Untranslatability,pp. 53–55. 25 Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak,“Translating in aWorld of Languages,” MLA Profession (2010), pp. 35–43. BeyondSpatiality: Theorising theLocal and Untranslatability 67 The Danger in the Dialogue: The Question of Method and the Agency of the Non-European

The conceptualisation of analytic problems in an ever-expandingfield signals its rede- finition as aviable discipline. The recent debates in world literaturehave inspired pioneeringinvestigations into questions of critical method, which havesofar ranged between worldsystemstheory, modes of circulation acrossborders, theorisations of the local, cartographicscalingand thenew philology.Moretti’s offering of world systems theoryasamodelfor approachingboththe world andits literatures is still highly problematic and does indeedre-introduce preciselythe samehierarchic premises that under- pin questions of dependency—not least of which is theproposal to read theworld’s literatures at adistance from the text itself,and for suchanact to be the condition of knowledge of thetextand its world. Moreover, theproblematic remains suspended betweenwestern form andnon-western realities.However, it still names aradicalshift in approaching worldliterature: theshift fromthe field, its range and scope as an “object” of study,whichhad plagued it in its early phases, to thefieldasa“problem,” which leads to the questionofcritical method. As he putsit, “the literature around us is now unmistakably aplanetarysystem.The questionisnot really what we should do— the question is how.What does it mean, studying worldliterature? Howdowedoit?”26 As Emily Apter hasargued, “Morettiadvocates akindofLit Crit heresy that dispenses withclosereading, reliesunabashedly on secondhandmaterial, and sub- ordinates intellectual energies to theachievement of a‘day of synthesis’.”27 To my mind, it is alsotooffer aBenjaminian answer to theterrific spectreofthe Angel of History:inthiscase, to achieve globalrelevance throughasynthetic flashofinsight. Onehas to re-posit thefamousquestionbyStanley Fish once more: Is ThereaText in This Class? More recently,LawrenceVenuti hasalso attempted to modify the premise of Moretti’s theory,the division between centre andperiphery by devisingtextual analytic strategies forworking between the original andthe work in translation.But for this he focuses on Latin American literature, which becamepopular in translationin the 1960s and1970s in theU.S. and which influencedwriters like John Barth. The choice of centre-example here is significant, for it is also John Barthwho has perfected ahigh-modernist vision of narrative andthe powerofstory by reworkingthe storyof Scheherazadand thenarrativestrategies of the Arabian Nights.Suchexperimental nar- rativestrategies align himwith Arabauthors such as Naguib Mahfouz, Gamalal- Ghitani (who developedand theorised an “Islamic art of narration”orfann al-qaṣṣ al- Islāmī outofthe narrative styles of theArabian Nights andClassical Arabictextual

26 FrancoMoretti, “ConjecturesonWorld Literature,”[First appearedinthe New Left Review 1(2000), pp. 54–68.]in: ChristopherPrendergast,ed., Debating World Literature (London:Verso Books, 2004), pp. 148–162, p. 148. See also Franco Moretti’ssequel article, “More Conjectures,” New Left Re- view 20 (2003), pp.73–81. 27 Apter, TheTranslation Zone,p.43. 68 Ayman A. El-Desouky traditions), Asia Djebar, Leila Sebbar, Elias Khoury and others—creating apotential nexusofworkingacross English, French and Arabic—and amodality basedonnego- tiatingnarrative arts across languages andtraditions. This leads me to themain question:what does it mean to have first approached world literature as an object andthen shiftedinthe fieldtoapproachingitasaproblem that wouldleadustoa“criticalmethod?” And in this historical chain,and particularly when it comestoquestions of method, whythe persistenceofthe divide of form and critical theory on the European side and of realities, made cultural andsociologicalasobjects of investigationonthe non-Europeanside?Finally,inreversing these binaries, or even doing away with them altogether, howdowebegin to pose questionsofagency in the productionofknowledge on the non-Europeanside? To beginwith, it has becomemoreapparent that theshift from object to problem leads us also to an even more crucialshift: fromasociological,ethnographic, culture- basedand yetdehistoricised approachtonon-European works of literature,toquestions of amoreaesthetic nature and to thehistoricisingofconceptions of literatureand literary practices:not just Which world? Whose world? Oneworld or many worlds?But also: What literature?Whose literature? What aesthetics?Whose aesthetics?As Christopher Prendergast has putitinhis Introduction to DebatingWorld Literature: ‘Literature’ hasfor the most part been confined to quarrels about the syllabus(therelativeplaces of canonical ‘great’ works and ‘marginal’ works,literaryand non-literarytexts,and so forth, usuallyinconnection with arguments about representation and identity politics). But without an accountofthe actualstructuresand modes of functioning of literarygenres, thestoryoftheir differential ‘world’ locations and globaljourneyswill make onlylimited sense.28 Even now, acursorylook at the more recent volume on Teaching WorldLiterature29 reveals apredominance of theanecdotal, of accounts of the different experiments in different institutions that produce the differentialin“world” locations and examine the global journeys.These more recent accounts offermuchbetter informed decisions, aesthetically as well as politically,thanusedtobethe practice in theclassroomupuntil the 1990s.But they still confirm what Hoesel-Uhlig, in hiscontributiontothe volume on DebatingWorldLiterature30,has sharplyarticulated as the challenges posed by world literature both to the history of literature as aconcept and to comparativeliterature, which in turn also clarifyaspects of worldliteratureasaproblem. In literary history, the written records of textual formsofproductionare allpresumably included, and as historical objects they areunderstood to outlive any particular method or exegesis. But then the conception of the literary is not always aesthetically determined.Historically, the

28 Christopher Prendergast, “Introduction,” in: Christopher Prendergast, ed., Debating World Lit- erature (London: Verso Books, 2004), pp.ix–x. 29 DavidDamrosch, ed., TeachingWorld Literature (NewYork: TheModernLanguageAssociation of America, 2009). 30 Stefan Hoesel-Uhlig, “ChangingFields: TheDirections of Goethe’s Weltliteratur,” in:Prendergast, Debating World Literature,pp. 26–53. BeyondSpatiality: Theorising theLocal and Untranslatability 69 distinctively modern concept of Literature “itself combines inclusivenessand institutional resilience with an intellectually undeterminedfocus, and the failings of ‘worldliterature’ directly amplify the general flaws of literature [as aconcept] in literary studies.”31 However, Damrosch’s most recent call—in TheCanonical DebateToday:Crossing Disciplinary andCultural Borders32—for the need to include in thedebates, to inter- rogateand to historicise, every nationalliterature’s negotiations of other literatures beyondits borders is indeedawelcomemethodological suggestion.This is perhaps where theinterventionist nature of investigations underapproaches to world literature becomesmostapparent as adisciplinary mode in whichtimeand space, differenceand otherness are negotiatedliterarily.But areone culture’s crossings thesameas another’s? That is, in what conceptuallanguageare we to begin to articulatesuch crossings?There has recently been asurge in criticalinsights suggestingsignificant analytic, theoreticaland methodologicallinks betweenWorld Literature, Translation Studies, the New Comparative Literature and PostcolonialStudies: Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak, through rigorous textual analysisinthe original languages;tackling issues of untranslatabilityphilosophically andthroughthe return to philology by Emily Apter; Robert Young’s work on formsofknowledgeproduction, or atypeofpostcolonialism from below; and crucially the recent shift toward afocus on “Literature” and the nature of theliterary in WorldLiterature, particularly in relationtootherdisciplines—in varyingmethods by Damrosch, Moretti, FrancescaOrsini, Nirvana Tanoukhi, Vilashini Cooppan:DavidDamrosch’s practicalmethods for reading throughmodes of circulation, Francesca Orsini’s mappings of local literary production, andmorerecently Nirvana Tanoukhi’s suggestions toward reconceptualising theproblems of distancein termsofaphenomenologyofscaleand Vilashini Cooppan’s proposedmethod for

31 Hoesel-Uhlig, Changing Fields,p.32. On thelevelofpraxisinthe classroom, Damrosch, in the Volume (2009) on Teaching World Literature (“Major Cultures and Minor Literatures,”pp. 193– 204), offers four credible strategies, though thesehaveyet to be combined with the rigor of linguisticand cultural competence that Spivak and others have called for and which is still largelythe domain of traditional Area Studies—see for example, Spivak, Death of aDiscipline,pp. 6–12. Theseare: 1. Cultural Connections: ancienttexts withmodern adaptations: e.g., Gilgamesh with thematically related works such as “The Babylonian Theodicy” and later The Book of Job… 2. Connections across Time:Homer with the meditative 1931 poem by Georges SeferisonOdys- seus, ironicallytitled,“Upon aForeignVerse.” 3. Connections across Space: e.g., NationalBards: e.g., MughalpoetGhalib,Goethe, Wordsworth, Byron,Whitman,Pushkin, etc. 4. Situating Translations: e.g.,the case of BlackElk Speaks and the actual ethnographic records out of whichthe text wascompiledbyNeihardtinthe 1930s. Damrosch’s suggestive strategiescome from long experience butthey are still dealing ultimately withissuesofpractice: what to do with world literatureasanobject of study. However,they do highlight manyofthe crucial issues: such as the national,non-European literaryhistories, the need for non-Europeancritical studies, translationastrans-textual and notonlytransnationaland so on. 32 Damrosch, Comparative WorldLiterature,pp. 169–178. 70 Ayman A. El-Desouky mappingout afield’s imaginary throughnetworktheory, to mentionbut afew.33 Schol- ars are joininginonthe debates fromawholerangeofother disciplines,thoughweare still awaiting fullercontributions from the recent transnationalgenderstudies, particularly their work on lifewriting.OrindeedfromPostcolonialStudies, as Subramanyan Shankar has recently arguedinthe context of problems of translation andthe relationship between Postcolonialism and Comparatism.34 Thequestionoflocationstillsuffersconceptuallyfromthe larger issues of globality andthe powerdifferentials impliedinPascaleCasanova’s World Republic of Letters propositions. The critical impulse remains beholden to themethodological practices of dependencytheory,onthe onehand, and to AreaStudies on theother. Whateverthe valid criticismofMoretti’s seminal piece, “ConjecturesofWorld Literature,”hewas able to identify the “problem” as not the “What” of World Literature but the “How”ofit, and the“How” of it has been thematised by Spivak—andIwould argue here forthe shared provenance of the problematic as outlined in Death of aDiscipline—simply as the absence of anyviable methodologyfor working across languages and traditions. What we have are still largely modesofanalysis inspired by strong politically and culturally sensitive acts of reading. My argument here, simplyput,isthat most recent critical debates in thefield have tendedtofocusonquestions of borders, nationalor“languaged” or otherwise, on one world or many worlds, on metropolitancentres andperipheries, on globaland localor theglobalinthe local, or theplanetary, forobvious historical,cultural andpolitical reasons.The increasing intensity of these debates has led by andlargetoundermining

33 Thesestatementsand this whole section draw on arguments outlined in aprevious lecture delivered at the FreieUniversitätBerlin at the kind invitation of theWissenschaftskolleg zu Berlin andthe FriedrichSchlegelGraduate School for LiteraryStudies(Approaches to World Literature: Ques- tions of Critical Methodand Agency of theNon-European,12May 2011). This reworked version, and in particular the introductorypart and the final section, draw on thelecturegiven by the same titleduringthe Concept LaboratoryonApproaches to World Literature,25–27June 2012,the DahlemHumanities Center and the Friedrich SchlegelGraduate School for LiteraryStudies, Freie UniversitätBerlin. Partsofthe finalsection draw on apresentationon“Global Translatio and the Sacred: On theHermeneutics of Voice between the Kerygmaticand theRevelatory,”Session 798 “TheoryAround the World:Translation and Ideas from the Rest of the World,” aSpecial MLA SessionwithGayatri Chakravorti Spivak,EmilyApter and Hosam Aboul-Ela, inaugurating the New Palgrave Series Theory in the World,co-edited by Spivak andAboul-Ela, LosAngeles, USA, 9January 2011. Iamgrateful to all colleaguesfor their engaged and insightful comments. 34 See his recent work, offering the vernacular as acritical categoryfor comparativemethod: Subra- manian Shankar, Flesh and Fish Blood: Postcolonialism, Translation, and the Vernacular (Berke- ley:University of California Press, 2012), see in particular“The ‘Problem’ of Translation,” pp. 103–142,and the “Conclusion: Postcolonialismand Comparatism,”pp. 143–158. As Shankar sums it up, “more nuance is necessary […] [and]renewed attention to thevernacular as acritical category,totranslation as aliterary and cultural practice as well as atrope, and to comparatismasa methodological imperative is away to bring such nuance to treatments of the postcolonial world.It willnot do to ignore the knowing-as-domination that each one of these termscan often enough en- able and/or represent,” pp. 157–158. BeyondSpatiality: Theorising theLocal and Untranslatability 71 the questionatthe origin, the questionofthe literary,ofthe secondpivotal term:ofthe “literature” in world literature. Thatisonthe onehand. On theother hand,whenwe begintotackle questions of the literary,the problem is reproduced in theready default to genre studies, to the practicalexamination of units of texts (thoughincreasingly cul- turallyand literarily sensitive), andtocertainproblematic approachesinthe practicesof literary history (for example, theradicalized approaches to whole bodies of texts surrounding culturally sensitiveissues,regardless of their positionality within their respectivetraditions). And yetitisonlythen, when we begintotacklethe literary beyond historicising/locating,orrather the dominant practiceofcontextualisation throughhistorical detail, that we finally begintoencounter directly thequestion of the theoretical. Discussion anddebates over non-Europeanliterary andintellectualtradi- tions andpractices,indeedculturalproductioningeneral, readilyfall backonthe language of Western metaphysics and aesthetics,under thepretextthatsuchtraditions have not developedsuch degrees of abstraction, criticalsensibilities andconceptual termi- nologies. And where theseexist, they remainthe property of philologists in these traditions, whostill follow philological andolder literary historical modalities. Literary scholars, especially modernists, and comparative literature scholars, remain for the most partinnocentofsuch knowledge when they engage with criticaland theoretical discourses.

BeyondSpatiality: Untranslatability as Comparative Critical Method

My particular approachcentres on possibilities of abstractingmethod from concepts naming specific practices in non-Europeanliterary,intellectual and aesthetictraditions. Untranslatability as approached here is not only that irreducible of difference in acts of understanding, translation andcirculation that allows for the imaginative.35 It is also theorisable as that whichallows to emerge, throughcritical hermeneutical rigour, the conceptual on the other sideofWestern metaphysics, beginning with the danger in the dialogue. With this danger in mind as the need to bringintodialogue theconceptual language of other traditions, we mayperhaps be able to approachthe fundamental issues of globaltranslatio in lightofthe philological rigour of translatiostudii.The promise, as well as the danger, hinges on theboundaries between the defaulttoEuropean hermeneutics in philologicalstudies of non-Western canons, for example the Qurʾānictext, and therenewed promise of acritical humanism.36 One might do wellalsotoremember thatthe traditions of European hermeneutical andphilological practices, andalong with them,conceptions of theliterary,have had their beginnings in approaches to scriptures

35 Cf. Damrosch’s earlycallin: David Damrosch, What is WorldLiterature? (Princeton: Princeton University Press,2003). 36 Cf.Apter, TheTranslation Zone. 72 Ayman A. El-Desouky and other sacred texts. Heidegger’s existentialhermeneutics, Gadamer’s philosophical hermeneutics, Ricoeur’s criticalhermeneutics aregoodrecentexamples, on thephilo- logicalside.Onthe literaryside, the returnto“religious” andfoundationaltexts in the questfor the literary have yieldedcrucialremit in critical method in the late workof Northrop Frye, whohas turned to theBible as the greatcodeoftotalising mythos,word order, or Harold Bloom’sturntorabbinical andMidrashic literature, and Robert Alter’s work on the literary featuresofthe Bible,orFrank Kermode, Geoffrey Hartmanand others.37 When it comestohermeneutics and sacreddiscourse, as Apter has explained: The sanctityofthe language of HolyWritisfreighted with the oldest questions of Judeo- Christianhermeneutics: In what languagedid Godoriginallyspeak?Did Adam speak thesame languagebeforeand after the Fall? If Latin is thelanguage by which God’s word is transmitted, and if it is decreed untranslatable,how was this policy reconciledwith the fact that the Latin Biblewas known to be atranslationofOld TestamentHebrew and New Testament Coptic and Greek?Such questionscontinuetoresonate in contemporarydebate. Are religious exponents of prayer or religious ceremonies in theoriginaladhering to what WaiChee Dimock calls ‘an orthodox and fetishizing claim about untranslatability,’orare they deferringtofaith in untranslatabilityasthe guarantorof[…] ‘the idea of asacredlanguage distinct fromits secular alternative’[…]?Thesequestionsoftranslationand theologyhave moved to the center of philosophical translation as it worksthrough problems of messianism, fedeism, orthodoxy, doctrinal fidelity, the bounds of secular law, tolerance, ethical neighboring,the right to offend, literalism, and linguistic monotheism.38 The ideal of translatio as arenewed critical humanist project, Apterhas suggested, can be seen as comparable to alinguisticmonotheism.Ifind this to be asingularly sugges- tivestatement thoughbynomeans atransparent one. To articulate thepossibilitiesofaglobal translatio in thefolds of thepromise of a linguisticmonotheism is also to readmit the classicalphilological postulate of aunity of origins, even if this timearounditisre-posited as the work of asecular,critical humanism,oranexilic humanism.39 This presuppositionisarticulated afresh in Apter’s more

37 Eveninthe recently renewed debates on secularity,theorists are significantly revising our understanding of thepolitical and socialspheres. Recentwork by Judith Butler, Jürgen Habermas, Charles Taylor, Bruce Robbins,Talal Asad and others aregood examples, as is thework of Alain Badiou, inspired by the momentous events of theArabRevolutions.Myreference here is to there- cent debates between Habermas,Taylor,Butler and West, cf.Eduardo Mendieta and Jonathan VanAntwerpen, edd., The Power of Religion in thePublic Sphere: Judith Butler, Jürgen Habermas, Charles Taylorand Cornel West (New York: Columbia University Press, 2011);see also Alain Badiou’s recent work on the Arab Revolutions, effective redefininghis earlier communist hypothesis in lightofwhat he perceives to be theradical possibilities revealed in the revolutionary events in the people’s collective actions and modes of expression, what he has termed a“movement communism,” in:AlainBadiou, The Rebirth of History: Times of Riots and Uprisings (New York: Verso, 2012). 38 Apter, PhilosophicalTranslation and Untranslatability,p.58. 39 Cf.Apter’s typology extending from Leo Spitzer,through Auerbach and Benjamin to Said in The Translation Zone,cf. chap.3“Global Translatio:The ‘Invention’ of ComparativeLiterature, Istan- bul, 1933,” pp.41–64 and chap.4“Saidian Humanism,” pp.65–81. BeyondSpatiality: Theorising theLocal and Untranslatability 73 recent work on philosophicaltranslation in two key ways:40 the circulation of aconcept fromwithinEuropean philosophicallanguages as a“distinctcase of fidelity to theori- ginalinwhich the target is sameand othered—which is to say,philosophized.”This is a case in which “[t]he philosophemetaps intoits own foreignness.” The second key insight has to do more radicallywith the move fromone untranslatable to another untranslatable. It is this secondinsightIwish to tackle here, briefly,alsotoshow howthe sameher- meneutical actruns therisk of perilous fidelity to theoriginating untranslatable, andnot just thedangerofrendering invisibleorremovingfromknowledge production the critical, philosophicaland hermeneutical provenances of the non-European. That is, there is an actofconceptual displacement that hasthe identificatory powerofmetaphor, thoughnot exactly in the waydeconstructivereadings haverevealedinphilosophical discourse, whichstill transpiresasamode of circulation withinthe spheres of European thought, andengages particular assumptions aboutthe nature andexperience of language (for example, the non-linguistic admitted only rhetorically as an unsettlingact of unknowing). The danger which Heidegger has dramatized in approaching Eastasian aesthetic41 practices usingthe conceptual language of European metaphysics also applies to Europeanaesthetics in so far as it blinkers Europeanthoughtfrom understandingthe particularities of its owngrounding visions (thoughthis is precisely what Heidegger has aimed at by theend of thedialogue). Studies havecomeout recently on theAsianrootsofHeidegger’s hermeneutical negotiationsofthe Way or of Sayingor of Gesture.42 This risk could be immediately explained in termsofwhy the actisinthe first place simultaneously one of saming and othering:saming here is an actnot of translation butofalienation, of the positionality,materialorotherwise,ofbothoneself and the other, abanishingintothe unknowableofdifference by circulatingthe singular concept—the metaphor notsomuchofmonotheistic originasofthe classical philological unity of origin.The postulate of alinguisticmonotheism as we have it here, as theworkofacriticalhumanism reaching outtothe other, is different from the case

40 Apter, Philosophical Translation and Untranslatability,p.54. 41 Margaret Hillenbrandhas been recentlyworking on the politics of quoting European and American theorists by Japanese andChinese scholars on the pages of Positions,and she delivered some of her conclusions in apaper on “Philosophy, Pragmatismand East AsianTheory” in theworkshop “Ap- proachestoWorld Literature: Questions of Critical Methods Beyond Eurocentrism,” held at The School of Oriental andAfrican Studies (SOAS), in London, organized by theCentrefor Cultural, Literary and Postcolonial Studies (CCLPS) in June 2011. Themain conclusion was to the effect that thetheoryand theoristquoted are mostly forsymbolic capital, another nod to the power differ- entialand to Said’s “Travelling Theory” thesis. One of the interesting postulates debated in the Q&Asession is the viabilityofposingEastAsiaasacomparable civilizational unity to Europe, legitimizing thetransferences among the different languages and intellectual traditions, though this is precisely what is being contested by the recent work on philosophical untranslatability.The question of the aesthetic and itssurrounding conceptuallanguages on the East Asian scene is of course in itself rather complex, beginning with the commonreferencing of Classical Chinese characters in Japanese and Korean traditions of scholarship. 42 Seefor example:May, Heidegger’s Hidden Sources. 74 Ayman A. El-Desouky of a philosopheme tappinginto its own foreignness withinEuropean philosophical discourses, “whereby an apparentnon-translation translates nonetheless” (Apteron KamufonDerrida’s pharmakon).43 In thecaseofthe word of monotheistic revelation, recent EuropeanProtestanttheo- logicaland hermeneuticshifts have centredontwo fundamentally connected moves: away fromspeculative theology to kerygmatic theology andtonarrativetheology (from Barth to Bultmann to FryetoRicoeur, as one particularly significant trajectory). This move alsoleads to theforegrounding of the Word, as thepromise of monotheistic tradi- tionsand their foundational language experience.44 While this hermeneuticmove promises atheological “unity”for theWord, it still happens withinthe folds of a distinctly Christian untranslatable, andmay runthe danger of perilously obscuringthe hermeneutic possibilitiesofunderstandingthe Qurʾānicvoice’s Naẓm of discontinuous temporalitiesasanother untranslatable.The sameperil lies in theapproachtothe Hebrew Bibleand thecanonical Hebrew texts, especially when it comes to the typological, as Robert Alter has argued against Auerbach, Bultmann, Ricoeur, Frye and others. Whenitcomes to theHebrewBible or canonical texts or to theQurʾānictext, what we have is ratheracase of translatiostudii whereby the hermeneutical transferis further complicatedbyits own untranslatability.Here, Venutiand Spivak, for example, mayargue for cultural translatio,for thecontextualizingofdifferenceorfor theprima- cy of each “languaged place”45—except as far away fromthe performance of equiva- lentsonthe level of the historico-civilizational content as we can get. And this is where hermeneutical rigour must be called upon,and precisely on thevery line of itsown possibility,the line of conceptual negotiationofdifference in textualtraditions andtheir histories of receptionthatemanate from the language experience, in amanner perhaps similar to theway Claude Simon has attempted to explain his viewsofnarrativeto Mahfouz.The target untranslatablemustitself becomeequallythe original,bothintex- tualorder and trans-historical, trans-linguistic reception. The hermeneutical transfers betweenthe proclamations of theTorah, NewTestament Narrative Kerygmaand Qurʾānic Discontinuous Naẓm are of course further complicated by the postulateofa single origin on thesideofthe issuing voice, thetheologicalidentity of the speaking

43 Apter, Philosophical Translation and Untranslatability,p.53; seealsoPeggy Kamuf’scontribution to the same issue: PeggyKamuf,“Passing Strange: The Laws of Translation,” MLA Profession (2010), pp.64–71. 44 Wherethe wordoutweighsthe numinous, as Paul Ricoeurargues, we begin to have ahermeneutics of proclamation that is to be distinguished fromaphenomenologyofthe sacred. Such ahermeneutics exists where theaccentisplaced on speech and writing andgenerallyonthe word of God. This is particularly true of Judaism, Christianity andIslam.Furthermore, thereissuchaconcern for hermeneutics where theaccentisplaced upon thehistoricity of the transmission of the founding tradition and where this activity of interpretation is incorporated into theveryconstitution of that tradition.Cf. PaulRicoeur, Figuring the Sacred: Religion,Narrative, and Imagination,ed. Mark I. Wallace, trans. DavidPellauer (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1995), p. 48. 45 Spivak, Translating in aWorld of Languages,p.37. BeyondSpatiality: Theorising theLocal and Untranslatability 75 presence of the Abrahamicreligions and their scriptures,whichisnamed and confirmed in the finality of theQurʾānic revelations. Kerygma (κήρυγμα)isthe Greek term used in theological and hermeneutic dis- coursestodescribe theproclamation or message of theNew Testament. Variously it has denotedthe content of proclamation (C. H. Dodd46)and the act of proclamation (Rudolf Bultmann).47 The term has gainedmorecurrency in philosophicaland hermeneutic debates, and indeed has becomeone of the most controversial terms in theological debates since the publication of Bultmann’s first essay on his project of Entmythologisierung or “demythologizing” the NewTestament Proclamation, “New Testament andMythology,” in 1941. Bultmann’s projectultimately offers akindofexistential hermeneutic:the kerygmaisrescuedfrom its enshrininglanguageofthe first century—its mythifyingor objectifying statements—so thatweare able to hear theSpoken Word in its subjective natureasGod’s saving actinChrist andthereby become able to engage with it as subjects in history.Bultmannwas strongly inspiredbyHeidegger in thelate1920s and1930s.48 In one of the most rigorous analytic acts, perhaps since Auerbach’sstudies on typological modes andtheir literary significance, Northrop Frye setfor himself the larger task of exploring thepowerful hold of the Bible on theWesternimaginationand verbal cultures. For Frye, however, thelanguageofmetaphor is thevery vehicle throughwhich theKerygmaasrevelation is manifested, and myth is theorder of words thatensures therepeatabilityofthe kerygmatic (asinHeilsgeschichte,for example) throughtypological modes of thought.The kerygmatherefore has its narrative basis not only in theGospels, or eveninthe paradigm of conversion andPauline theology as a whole,but is made repeatable in the imaginative necessity of salvation(seen alsoasthe inter-subjectivethrustofthe experience of the Divinethroughthe Word by Bultmann). PaulRicoeur too,inhis discussion of Auerbachand Alter on theart of biblical narrative, sees thekerygmaasinseparable from its own narrative andthis“kerygmatized

46 Seefor exampleC.H.Dodd, The Apostolic Preaching and its Developments (London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1963). 47 “Itisalso [as Ihave explained,] that which constitutes what is extra literaryinthe Bible,the prophetic or proclamatoryaspect. Forthe Christian theologian, however, Kerygma is thewordofreve- lation,the word of preaching. Forthe firstChristians, the word of preaching was theeschatological event of theKingdom of Heaven,but then,with theformation of the earlychurches, theemphasis shifted to thePerson of Christ and the events of the Crossand Resurrection.[…] Kerygma is thus a proclamatorymode of speech that is, as Frye would later draw itsboundaries, non-rhetorical,non- metaphorical, and non-ideological speech. WhileBultmann insists on the truth-natureofthe Kerygma [Rudolf Bultmann, Kerygma and Myth: ATheological Debate,ed. Hans Werner Bartsch (New York: Harper &Row, Publishers, 1961)] Frye emphasizes its metaphorical basis, even as he argues that it is neither poetic nor rhetorical, but somewhere in-between,”in: AymanA.El- Desouky, “Ego eimi: Kerygma or Existential Metaphor?Frye, Bultmann and the Problem of De- mythologizing,” Canadian Review of Comparative Literature/RevueCanadienne de Littérature Comparée 34. 2(2007),pp. 131–171; pp. 133–134. 48 Cf.El-Desouky, Frye, Bultmann and the Problem of Demythologizing,pp. 131–171. 76 Ayman A. El-Desouky narrative or narrativizedkerygma”asthe only mode forthe expression of theidentity betweenthe Christ of faithand the Jesus of history.49 Frye’slast major books, TheGreatCode: TheBible andLiterature, Words With Power and The Double Vision,50 constitute areworking of the relationshipbetween the poetic andthe religiousvisions, andtheir embodying mythoi,towhich he devotedmost of hisprofessional career. This reworking seemstobemade possiblebyshiftingthe emphasis from classification,which is still at work butnolonger foregrounded, backto the point of origin, i.e. theidentificatory power of theimagination, not just as an imag- inativenecessity at thecoreofall thatispoetic or literary but alsoasaconceptual and cognitivefunction. In thelater work, theinitialpower of theimaginationtoconstruct alternative visions (i.e.,toposit the possible againstthe actual) seems to evolve intoa distinctpoetic andimaginative mode of thinking.Thismode of thinking,accordingto Frye,is, or shouldbe, theproper mode for the new cycleofhistory,asopposedtothe conceptual and dialecticmodes of reasoning (developed over the last two phases, i.e. the Metonymicand theDescriptive, as explainedinThe Great Code). It is perhapsin- teresting to observe at this pointhow Frye’sarguments and statements, though as carefully conceivedand statedasever, begin to acquire adefiniteenunciatory tone. At this point,one cannot helpbut wonder whether Fryeisgoingthrough a metanoia stage; that is, aturnindirection (repentance?) to face the ideaoflanguage as logos.Or, is it the beginning of acompletely newcycle of history in whichthe poetic, thereligious andthe socialmerge to form the Human as such? And, if such is thecase,isitreally thebeginning of anew cycle, is it a“recognition,” an acceptanceofthe interfacing of mediated andunmediated vision, thelinguisticand thenon or extra linguistic,inall modes of thought andlife? Andifso, how closehas he approachedother traditions of thesacred word, such as the Qurʾān, of whichthere arenumerous references throughout his works as well as hismany notebooks? The Notebooks are filled with germinating ideas andinsights into allkinds of sacred andmythological traditions, but alsosomesharper articulations of his thoughtsonthe natureofthe Kerygma.Infact, there are numerous indications of someradical turns late in his life, whichisnot surprisinggiven the inclusive, spirally evolvingnature of his work ever sincethe famous book on Blake—some of the earliestnotes are revisited later on andindifferent rhythmic moments. Frye’s late turn in the Late Notebooks thereforeoffers us amuchmoreradicalinsightintowhathetentativelyrefers to as the Discontinuous Kerygma: In descriptive writing the verbal content (not what we usually think of as contentinthat connection) is syntactic prose. When this contentturns into form, acontent of metaphorreveals

49 Ricoeur, Figuring the Sacred,p.183; cf.also pp.167–180 and pp.236–248. 50 NorthropFrye, The Great Code: The Bible andLiterature (NewYork: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, Publishers, 1982); WordsWithPower (NewYork: Viking, 1990); The Double Vision:Language and Meaning in Religion (Toronto: University of Toronto Press,1991). BeyondSpatiality: Theorising theLocal and Untranslatability 77

itself within. When that becomes form,myth(order, narrative,time, quid agas)becomes the content. When myth becomes form,kerygma becomes the content.51 Ahermeneutical negotiation of the untranslatables of theWordwould benefit from a close analysis of the key instances in whichkerygma as Discontinuous Kerygma is mentioned in the Late Notebooks.Such an analysis willenableustoresolvethe key issue here over the “discontinuity”offormthat marks more radicalpossibilitiesofthe kerygma. If what lies on the other sideofthe poetic is thekerygmatic, perhaps onekey lies in thenature of “seeing”inFrye’s answer to his ownquestionabout what lies on the other side of kerygma: it is thebeing-seen by theWord that unifies on theother side.52 Frye’sinsightinto Discontinuous Kerygma—significant after more than20years of studyingthe relationshipbetweenthe biblicaltexts andliterature or Western verbal cultures—is barely thematized but crucially offers hisfinal attemptatarticulating the kerygmatic voice in monotheism.Itmay also serve as atransitional theoreticalmodel fromnarrative-based modalities to voicemodalities and discontinuoustemporalities in narrative.53 ThedefaulttoEuropeanhermeneutics, while revealingasharedtradition of theWord of Godbyplacingthe accentonahermeneutics of proclamation,has concealed intrinsic differences in acts of interpretationand histories of reception: thedefault felleasily to narrative theologiesand narrative-basedtypological modalities. In Qurʾānic revelations the metaphysical fact of revelation is most salient as adirect issuingvoice, adirect speaking voicerevealing itself at thesource andplacing itselfonthe continuumof monotheistic revelations,asthe originbut also thefinalityofthe Word,the final issuing voice. Originand finality,fromwithinhistory,yet openingintosacred history as the reflectionofthe contentofrevelation.This claim at once to origin and to finalityis peculiartoQurʾānic voice, in theway it reworksinterpretively andselectively notonly

51 Northrop Frye, Northrop Frye’s Late Notebooks, 1982–1990: Architecture of the Spiritual World, ed. RobertD.Denham, Collected Works of Northrop Frye,30vols., vols.5–6 (Toronto: University of TorontoPress, 2000),vol. 5, p. 269. 52 Cf. Frye, Late Notebooks,vol. 6. 53 Theseare reflections on some of the conceptual language available to aliterarycriticworking on particular European trajectories of interpretive traditions and methods since Goethe’s famous remarks.Theyexclude,for example, certain Catholic traditions,aswell as Syriac or Armenian or EthiopianorGreek or Coptic andArabic exegetical and hermeneutic traditions. The Egyptian monk, Father Matta el-Meskeen,for example, published in the 1990s amajor translation in two volumes of the Gospel of John,directlyintoArabic, together withanintroductoryvolumeoutlining awhole newhermeneutical methodinapproachingthe New Testament Kerygma.The caseofAra- bic in particular is particularly interesting given theoverwhelmingIslamic imprint on the traditions of thelanguage. Around the same time that FatherMatta was about to come out with his new translation,amost significant interview with him about spiritual metaphors, expressions of the sacred and allegory and hermeneutics in Arabic discourses, wasconducted by three major Egyptian liter- arycritics, Hoda Wasfy,Matta al-el-Meskeen, Nasr Hamid Abu Zayd, and, Gaber Asfour, cf. “Fī al-majāzal-rūḥī: Ḥiwārma‘a Mattā al-Miskīn” [“On Spiritual Tropes:ADialoguewith Mattael- Meskeen”], Alif: AJournal of Comparative Poetics 12 (1992),pp. 200–209. 78 Ayman A. El-Desouky the content but alsothe form of earliermonotheisticdiscourses, andisinseparable from the uniquenessofafirst-person voice that alwaysspeaksdirectly,evenwhenitrefers to itself in thethird person. The addressee in Qurʾānic revelations is the Prophet as the vehicleofrevelation, often directly so but evenwhenthe community or other peoples andfigures or other prophets are addressed, theissuing voiceisatany andall points dialogically drama- tised.This situationisconfirmed in the traditionbythe first revealed verse, thecom- mand Iqraʾ!—“Read!” or “Recite!” The texts of revelationthus at anyand allpointscall foranexperience: theexperience not only of insights and reflection, in aspecific context, but ultimately of dialogically standing as an addressee, individual and already dra- matisedand exemplified in the figure andexperience of the Prophet.And yetthisexpe- rience has provenhistoricallyand traditionally acommunity-founding experience—not only in thefundamental senseofacommunity of sharedbelief,but also ritualistically, liturgically andlegislatively cemented through the power of theWord. Still, this drama- tised,direct mode of speech, with its unique syntactic, sound andmixed-genre forms, fundamentally calls for, demands and dramatises an individualresponse. This situation of voicewillhavetobeclearly in view,Ibelieve, beforewecan begintoapproach the different genres andliterary modes of expression in thetexts of therevelation,someof which havetheir precedence, in themeand form,inmonotheistic traditions, others in Arabic andsurroundingSyriac practices,54 andothers evidently unique to theQurʾān itself. These latter forms, most evidentinthe early sūras butthroughout—and in the many formsofdirectaddress andthe particular feature of switching speaker andad- dresses (iltifāt), soundfigures, syntactic ellipses (ḥadhf), discontinuous temporalitiesin narrative forms, and so on—havetodointheir uniqueness with theparticular vision, the claim bothtoorigin andtofinality of revelation,and theauthority of theissuing voice in the Qurʾān. Most recent literary studies of the Qurʾān, thoughoffering someofthe most crucial and exciting interventions in the history of Qurʾānic Studies, tend on thewholetofocus on narrativeand narrativisticfeatures, drivenbythe overriding modern concern with history and historiography,and deriving from differing literary critical,biblicaland her- meneuticmodalities.55 Thereisalso afundamental premise at work, and it is that if we are to study continuities between theIslamic, Christian and Judaic traditions, partic-

54 The recentturntosource scholarship, focusing on contextualperspective in thecontexts of Late Antique religiousmilieus, is represented in itswideand up to date rangein: Gabriel Said Rey- nolds, ed., The Qurʾāninits Historical Context (London: Routledge, 2008). 55 Seefor example: Issa J. Boullata,ed., Literary StructuresofReligious Meaninginthe Qurʾān (Richmond: Curzon, 2000),for agood, well-rounded representationofthe rangeofapproaches; seealso: Mustansir Mir, Coherence in theQurʾān: AStudy of Islāhī’s ConceptofNaẓmin Tadabbu-i Qurʾān (Indianapolis:American TrustPublications, 1986); andthe various studies in: Stefan Wild, ed., The QurʾānasText. IslamicPhilosophy, Theology,and Science (Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1996);and Andrew Rippin, ed., TheBlackwell Companiontothe Qurʾān (Oxford: Blackwell, 2009). BeyondSpatiality: Theorising theLocal and Untranslatability 79 ularly as revealedintheir scriptures, then we naturallybeginwithnarratives of the prophets,avision and sphereofcontinuitywhich theQurʾānitself articulates and confirms, though fromwithin the new visionofal-qaṣaṣ al-ḥaqq (orthe true narrative), when it comes to comparing withother narratives.56 When the Qurʾāndeploys its own pronouncements andaccounts of al-qaṣaṣ al-ḥaqq,the one immediately noticeable feature is that of discontinuity andofomissions in therunning timeofnarrative se- quence andaccountsofevents. Thecorollary expression of aḥsanal-qaṣaṣ (“the best of narrative,”or“the most aesthetically pleasing”) has beenanalysedinthe tradition mostly as an aesthetic criterionfor the language of theQurʾāningeneral.But it is indeedalsoaselective criterion, offering aprinciple of selectionfor what agrees with the vision as thefinal vision of truth. Thenarrative approachtoscriptures, though,and even to faith,has beenthe domainofChristiantheology andhermeneutics, as opposed to theJewish Torah, andisrooted in thetypological principle whichseeks to link Genesis to Revelationinasingleultimate running narrative of salvation.InJewish scriptures, Prophetic narrativesconstitute precisely sucharupture in temporality,not in ahistory of salvation,but in humanhistory,asexemplifiedinthe history of achosen people.Itismoreinthe Midrashic andRabbinical commentaries that narrativebecomes asignificant form for the accounts of personalexperience withthe Word, much as in the accounts of conversion by theWordinearly Islamic sourcesand traditions. Both traditions centre on the sudden, transformative experience of hearing asingle verse or clusterofverses, not of an uninterruptednarrativeorstory of salvation. As Robert Alter has putit: Although the Midrashists did assume the unity of the text, theyhad little senseofitasareal narrative continuum […] the Midrash provides exegesis of specific phrases or narrated actions but not continuous readings of the biblical narratives: small pieces of the text becomethe foundationsofelaborate homiletical structures thathaveonlyanintermittent relation to the integral storytoldbythe text.57 Muslim exegetesand hermeneuts also assume the unity of the text as awhole, butthe experienceofthe Wordremainsonthe level of thesingleverse or cluster of verses. Experience of the Parables in the Gospels comesvery close to this tradition, as well as the Call to Discipleship in theSynopticGospels andinthe ego eimi of theJohanine Gospel. Narrativebeginstotakeshape only in the meaning fleshed outinthe life of the person who hears theword.Jalalal-Din al-Suyuti, afamous scholar and exegete of the fifteenth-century(c. 1445–1505 AD), for example, decidedtoarrange his autobiog-

56 Cf.Roberto Tottoli, Biblical Prophets in theQurʾānand Muslim Literature (London: Routledge, 2009), for agood study of therole of the storytellers in the early daysofIslam and pro- pheticnarratives in early exegesis and as adistinctgenre. Tottoli also discussesthe reception of prophetic tales and the status of Biblical prophetsinmedievaland modern literature. 57 Robert Alter, TheArt of BiblicalNarrative (New York: Basic Books, 2011), p. 11. 80 Ayman A. El-Desouky raphy in phasesofdevelopment, each of whichfleshes outthe meaningofasingle verse fromthe Qurʾān, whichconstitutes alsothe title of the relevant section.58 In the uniqueexperienceofthe Qurʾānictext,narrativeisclearly notthe definingor driving mode, notinthe immediate literary sense we tend to recognise narrative to be and experienceitassuch.Aunifyingprinciplehas notyet been discovered by which thefirst verseislinkedtothe last, revealing atotalising narrative, atotalisingmythor mythos,order of words, as Northrop Fryehas redefinedmythand describedthe effect which theprinciple of typology has in producing arunningnarrativefromGenesis to Revelationinthe Bible. Temporality is interruptedasacontinuum,narrative details are reclaimed,reworked and rearranged throughthe authority of theorigin-and-truth- claiming voice. Such an act, fromatextual point of view, does not seek to recastor recover narrative, but rather to articulate avisionoftruth at thesource, andasitdoes so, it foregrounds newmodes of language andnew modes of experienceofthe sacred throughlanguage:the text singles out units of thought, of action and of event, of experience,and even of partial narrative sequences,itarranges them as units of contem- plationwhichdraw attentioninsuspendedor, at times, successive moments of signification. What Emily Apter has interpreted as “The TranslationalInterdiction”or“thedivine right of untranslatability”59 that originatesinanIslamic context,following Moroccan criticAbdelfattahKilito’s insights, must stillpertaintowhat shehas called for undera theology of savingdifferenceinphilosophical discourse and translation studies (Bloom and Heidegger, and we canadd Blanchothere as well). What Kilito hasoutlinedunder theinjunction“Thou shalt not TranslateMe!” ultimately pertains to the language experience,not to the experienceofthe Worditself as speaking voice(precisely where the return to thephilologicaland therigour of translatio studii arenecessitated).60 When it comes to “meaning,” Qurʾānicverses have been received almostalways already translated,asisattested by the titles of major exegetical works of thevarietyof “tarjamat ma’ānī al-Qur’ān”(“Translatingthe Meanings of theQurʾān”), andthe text itself enjoinsthe acts of ta’wīl or “hermeneutical interpretation,”inthe sense of “returningtoorigins”(andthese are statedtobeinthe heart of theknowingbeliever). The radicalseparation of tarjama (“translation”), tafsīr (“exegesis”) and ta’wīl

58 Cf.“Al-Tahadduth bini’mat Allah,” in: Elizabeth Sartain, ed., Jalal al-Din al-Suyuti, 2vols. (Cam- bridge:Cambridge University Press, 1975), vol. 2; see also the studyofthe patterns of representation in Suyuti’s autobiographybyKristen E. Brustad,“Imposing Order: Reading the Conven- tions of Representation in al-Suyuti’s Autobiography,” Edebiyat 7. 2(1997), pp. 327–344, which is also included in the pioneering series of studies of ClassicalArabic autobiographical discourses in: Interpreting theSelf:Autobiography in the ArabicLiterary Tradition,ed. Dwight F. Reynolds and co-authoredbyKristenE.Brustad(Berkeley:University of California Press,2001). 59 Apter, Philosophical Translation and Untranslatability,p.55and pp. 56–58. 60 Theoriginaltitle is: Abdelfattah Kilito, Lantatakallama lughatī (Beirut: Dar al-Tali’a, 2002), cf. the English edition:Abdelfattah Kilito, Thou Shalt Not Speak My Language,trans. Wail S. Hassan (New York: Syracuse University Press,2008). BeyondSpatiality: Theorising theLocal and Untranslatability 81 (“hermeneutics”) is afunctionofthe later scholarship, apostulateonthe basisofwhich the late Egyptian critic Nasr HamidAbu Zaydhas generatedhis major hermeneutical project.61 AbuZayd’swork is particularly significantinthathepointsout thefactthat modern Arabic literary approachestothe Qurʾān(revivedearly in thetwentieth- century) have forgotten theearly distinction in theological debates between theeternal andtemporal aspects of theWord of God, whichhaveleft theliterary critics exposedto attacks, as the approaches suffer fromthe lack of support of amodern theology anda new hermeneutical method.62 As Ihave briefly explainedabove, Iwouldalso argue that an Islamic hermeneutics of proclamation might benefitfromthe protests of Hebrewscholars and exegetes against thenarrativizinghermeneutical actsofChristian theology in onemoresignificant detail, the questionofthe unity of the text.Thiscould have hadacrucial bearing on thedebates over “coherence” in the Qurʾānictext,which have predominatedmodern, mainly Western, scholarship. We should alsoconsider thefollowingpoints:the intra-textual Qurʾānic delineationbetween qaṣaṣ (“narration”)and usṭūra (“myth”) in light of the natureand experienceofdiscontinuous temporality that marks the Qurʾānic text and causes it to stand unique among other holy books; andinlight of this experiencewe must considerthe modes of reception, particularly of unique individualities,and not just of how thetexts speak to acommunity—beyondthe legalaspects and codifications. Thehistoricity of experienceremains this wayonthe side of tilāwa,or“recitation of the revealed word,” understoodasresponsetothe call of the matluw,or“theactualfact—a metaphysicalone—calledthe Revelation,”63 as Levinas wouldhaveargued—the trans- historicalvision of anbā’al-ghayb (“stories”or“news of theunknown”). It is perhaps agoodideatoconcludewith brief examples frommodern Arabic literature as to how Qurʾānic Naẓm is literarily treated as voice andbeyondthe holdof textualand narrative traditions, prophetic traditions, as well as of our definitions of the modern novel. Some of the major experiments in modern Arabic narrative discourses, notably in theworksofNaguib Mahfouz,Libyan Ibrahimal-Kuni andEgyptian Gamal al-Ghitani, refract the Qurʾānictextand traditions of the Arabiclanguage in strong appropriative modes of voice, visionand register. In al-Ghitani’s ownwords: “A long timeago Irealizedthe necessity of creating newartisticforms for the novel whichdraw

61 See his early work: Nasr Hamid Abu Zayd, Falsafat al-ta’wīl [“The PhilosophyofHermeneutics”]. Nasr Hamid AbuZayd’s work is prolific and hasthe mark of awell integratedhermeneutical method, see forexample his laterwork: Nasr Hamid Abu Zayd, Al-khiṭābwaal-ta’wīl [“Discourse andHermeneutics”],(Beirut/Casablanca:Al-Markaz al-Thaqafial-Arabi, 2000). For awell-rounded view of hiscritique of the different modern literaryapproaches to theQurʾān, cf. Nasr Hamid AbuZayd, “The Dilemma of theLiteraryApproach to theQurʾān,” Alif: Journal of Comparative Poetics 23 (2003), pp.8–47. 62 Abu Zayd, TheDilemma of the Literary Approach to theQurʾān,pp. 34–39. 63 “This fact,” Levinascontinues, “is alsothe firstand most important contentrevealedinany revelation,” in: Beyond the Verse,p.127. 82 Ayman A. El-Desouky on theArabictradition.”64 Tradition thus encompassed becomes the source of in- spiration for various formsofexpression,which al-Ghitani arguesshould help in “articulating our presentpowerfully.”65 These formsofexpression offer the writer various artistictools with whichthe vanishinghistorical moment can be captured andits essence againstextinctionpreserved.Al-Ghitani appeals to thehistorical layering em- beddedinthe language itself. That is, only throughthe revelation of identity as a complex worldofaffinities,eachwithits ownparticular history,languageand style, does thenarrative succeedincrossing theboundaries of genres, therebytranscending the novel as Western form (for example in Mutūnal-ahrām, “Pyramid Texts”, or Sifr al-bunyān,“The GospelofStructure”). The richand complex textual traditions also afford al-Ghitanianalmostlimitless repertoire of narrativestyles, literary devices and resonant phrases andexpressions, andall to avariety of aestheticand emotive effects. Such classical genres range in style fromclassical Arabichistoriographies and Khiṭaṭ or topographic literaturetopopular, oral histories and practices. Whilethe effect of these stylesand devices, blendedand moulded into thenarrative, comestobear, most discernibly,onthe construction of thenarrativeasawhole,suchaneffect emanates fromthe peculiarities of the personaldestinies of themain characters.Hepursues the creative traces of memory in language, only so he couldplace forces thatare active in thepresent on acredible and suggestive historical continuum. This historical continuum is none otherthanthe narrativeofapersonaldestiny, drawn up architecturally in much the sameway an Islamic architectural monumentisdesigned or theArabian Nights are constructed,ashehas argued for their affinities.Acts of mythologizing the sacredword, collectivememory, sacred space and sacred time abound in Libyan novelist Ibrahim al- Kuni’s vision, andthese are ultimately constitutive of his narrative universe, the mythologicaluniverse of thedesert.Voice here seeks to enunciate individual and collective experience in mirrored metonymic and metaphoric discursiveuniverses, where the speakingvoicere-enacts originary sacred, creative andparticipatory powers. In Mahfouz’s work, ahistorically conceived/receivedsacred word seeks to appropriate sacred temporality in thenameofthe people, thesecond-addressee of monotheistic discourses. Mahfouz’s Childrenofthe Alley66,asIhaveexplained elsewhere,presents aunique narrativeexperiment. It is able to engage with the contradictions of itsown historical moment, the crises of post-1952Revolution Egypt,and to offer an anatomy of the revo-

64 Gamal Al-Ghitani, “Ba‘ḍ Mukawwināt‘ālamī al-Ruwā’ī,” Al-Adāb 38. 4–6 (1990), p. 113.My translation. 65 Gamal al-Ghitani has also produced aseries of critical studies outlining his narrative project as based on the Arabic narrativeand textual traditions: Gamal al-Ghitani, Muntahā al-ṭalab ilā turāth al-‘arab: Dirāsātfīal-turāth [“TheUltimate Quest for the Traditions of the Arabs:Studiesinthe Tradition”] (Cairo: Dar al-Shorouq, 1996).The title of the work notablyalso follows the rhyming styleoftraditional treatises. 66 Naguib Mahfouz, Awlād Ḥāratinā [1959],First Egyptian edition(Cairo: Dar al-Shorouk, 2006); Naguib Mahfouz, Children of theAlley,trans. Peter Theroux (New York: Anchor Books, 1996). BeyondSpatiality: Theorising theLocal and Untranslatability 83 lutionary process by othering textualtraditions of sacrednarratives—throughthe vision he attempted to explaintoClaude Simon in theanecdotewith whichIhaveframed my reflections here. Hiscreative visionproduces something akin to MicheldeCerteau’s heterologies, and it is able in theprocesstoradically outline theforms of historical knowledge that sacrednarratives presentfor the people.67 In effect he has created a secular narrativeorNaẓm,with thespeakingvoice issuingfrom aprojection of thepop- ularimaginary, averitable repertoire of histories of receptionofthe Word. Thesocial realities of the people, theirown timeand place,are reconceived phenomenologically as manifestations of thecollectivestruggle for socialjustice.The people’s acts of self- consciousness, their expressionofthemselvesaspeople,alwaysleads to or constitutes a revolutionary action (a clearindictment equally of middle class intellectualdiscourses and of thestate’s nationalizing,modernizing discourses). Time, placeand social realities are nottreatedanagogically or typologically in correspondence with religious tran- scendental visions.There arefive discontinuous narrativesegments that are connected mainly in thepeople’scollective memory and thestories of the traditional storytellersor café poets. The figures of Gabalawi (God), Adham (Adam), Gabal (Moses), Rifaa(Jesus), Qassem (Mohamed)and Arafa (Science!) are not the deityand prophetsormessengers of religious transcendentalrealities. Rather, they arefigures of social reform,revolutionary figures, emerging from withinthe ranks of thepeople. Thenarrative temporalityis bifurcated: the continuous temporality of humanexistence as averitablehistory from below andthe discontinuoustemporalityofrepeatable“divine” interventions. The narrative experiencereveals the division betweenthese twoexperiences of timeasthat which underlies andorganizes aculture. In contrast to such Arabic narrativeexperimentswith theword,the narrative-based NewTestament “proclamatory voice,” or Kerygma,isre-enacted through varieties of “the gospel according to theson” in suchmajorworks as: José Saramago, The Gospel According to Jesus Christ (1991);Stephen Mitchell, TheGospelAccording to Jesus (1991); Norman Mailer, TheGospelAccording to theSon (1997);and more recently, Philip Pullman, TheGoodMan Jesus and theScoundrel Christ (2010). Acomparative study of thesenovels in relation to theNew Testament Kerygmaand of theworks of the Arabauthors Imentioned in relation to Naẓm wouldsurely serve to illuminate further the possibility of comparative insight into either side of the untranslatableofthe Word throughthe differentials of its narrative emanations. The works of modern Hebrew novelists such as Shmuel Yosef Agnon(1888–1970; 1966 Nobel Laureate) wouldalso provide suchvaluableinsight for thepurposesofthese comparative actsofreading. For global translatio to achieve thepromise of alinguistic monotheism,with the philological postulate of aunity of origins,arigorous theology of “savingdifference”68

67 Ayman A. El-Desouky,“Heterologies of Revolutionary Action: On Historical Consciousness and the Sacred in Mahfouz’s Children of the Alley,” Journal of PostcolonialWriting 47.4(2011), pp. 428–439. 68 Apter “détourning” Bloom’s expression, Philosophical Translation and Untranslatability,p.54. 84 Ayman A. El-Desouky will have to enter thetranslationalscene.The cases of Kerygmaand Naẓm,orindeed hermeneutics and ta’wīl,are crucial pointsofdeparture—no less significant than the caseofBorges’sAverroesattempting to translatethe Greekconcepts of tragedy and comedy,ormorerecently Heidegger attempting to hermeneutically approachJapanese aesthetics—Iro (色)and Ku (空)—andlanguage experience—kotoba (言葉)—in the form of dialogue. Both theorigin and targetuntranslatables—and the translationalact as reconceived here is no longer between languages as much as it is betweenthe con- ceptuallanguageofcriticaldiscourses—must firstbeidentified as thatwhich resists, as “the non-bond whichdisjoinsbeyondunity”only “toopenyet another relation;”69 and they must thenemerge in the full rigour of their originatingand differentiating trans- historicalarticulations, in themode of a“persistent epistemological preparation.”70 Untranslatability, as Apter has suggested,shouldtherefore be seen as both problem and paradigm.Itdoesnot necessarily name,nor must it constitute, an impasse in the acts andprocesses of translation. Rather, Ibelieve,itserves to highlight thecomplexities in theacts of understanding alterity,personal,literary or cultural, andassuchitalso foregroundsthe hermeneutic dimensions in theacts of understanding,translationand interpretation.The questionofagency wouldhavetolie notjustwiththe mastery of other languages andtraditions for textual analysis, as Spivak has crucially argued, but evenmoresowith theepistemologicaland hermeneuticalnegotiation of the conceptual languages and histories of practiceofother traditions.For only then can such knowledgeproduced be activated into genuine dialogue with western disciplinary knowledge and critical methods. Otherwise, evencritical traditions of non-European languages are approachedethnographically for knowledgegathered,and thendroppedwhenitcomes to the actual knowledge production, the timeofdiscourse, as Johannes Fabianhas arguedincritiqueofanthropologicalmethod, for which only European conceptual languagesare seen to offer therequisiteanalytic tools andconcepts.

69 This is Blanchot’sresponse to Levinas’ affirmation of religion as that which binds or holds together, facing which Blanchotasks “then what of the non-bond which disjoinsbeyond unity— which escapes the synchronyof‘holding together,’ yetdoes so without breakingall relations or without ceasing, in this breakorinthis absence of relation, to open yetanother relation?,”in: Mau- rice Blanchot, TheWriting of theDisaster,trans. Ann Smock (Lincoln:University of Nebraska Press, 1986), p. 64. 70 Spivak, Translating in aWorld of Languages,p.38. DAVID DAMROSCH Global Scripts and the Formation of Literary Traditions

In seeking new approachestoworld literature today1,aprime challenge that we faceis to find modes and scales of analysisthat canmediatebetween theplethora of individual linguisticand literary traditions andthe “globalbabble” of an all-encompassing world system, if “system” isn’t even nowtoo definite atermtouse. Theworld is not yet nearly as flat as some economic analystssuppose, andeven to the extent that we can speaktoday of “world music” or “the novel”asworldwide phenomena, we must still consider thefact that throughmostofrecorded history,literature has never beenwritten within an integratedglobalsystem. “World Literature” has meant different things in different parts of the globe, andonlyavery few writers have truly had aworldwide audi- ence.Atleastupthrough theeighteenthcentury, literary works have circulatedwithin fairly discrete fields, whether framed in regionalterms (the East Asian world), in politicalterms(the Roman Empire), or in linguistic terms: the Sinophone or Romance traditions. My purposehere is to explore amissing term in most discussions of regional and globalliteratures: the crucial roleofglobal scripts. Often thoughtofonly in relation to their originallanguageorlanguage family,scripts that achieve aglobalreachusually extendfar beyond their linguistic base, with profound consequencesfor literatureand forcultureingeneral.Alphabetsand otherscripts continuetothisday to serveaskey indices of cultural identity,often as battlegrounds of independence or interdependence. As Iwill argue,aglobal scriptformsthe fundamental basis of abroader literary system⎯whatwemightcallthe “scriptworld”⎯in whichworks that use acommon script are composed. An emblematic modern instance of the cultural-politicalroleofscripts was Kamal Atatürk’s wrenchingTurkish away from Arabic script to aRoman-derivedscript in 1928, partofhis effort to realignTurkey away fromits Ottoman, Middle Eastern past and toward aEuropean future. To dramatizethiseffort as apatriotic assertion of a newly chosen identity,Atatürkhad himself photographed givinginstructioninthe new alphabet,withTurkish flagsprominently displayed behind his open-air blackboard.

1 Aprior versionofthis paper waspublished under the title “Scriptworlds: Writing Systemsand the Formation of World Literature,” Modern LanguageQuarterly 68. 2(2007), pp.195−219. 86 DavidDamrosch Struggles overscriptscontinuetoday in various borderlandregions.Chechnyahas changedits script twiceduring thepast century. Long writteninArabiccharacters, the Chechenlanguageshifted over to Cyrillic during the period of Soviet domination, then went to theRoman alphabet when Chechnyaachieved independence in 1997.The Berbers of North Africa, seeking to preserve an identity distinctfromArab culture, but equally reluctant to usethe Roman alphabetofFrench colonialdays, have revivedan old Punic script, knownas“tefinagh,” whichisnow taught in schools in Morocco. Often important in culturalpolitics, scripts have hadaparticularlyfar-reaching impact on the productionand circulation of literature, not only in today’s globalizing world butthroughoutthe course of literaryhistory.Mystarting-point for thinkingabout the issue of script came when Iwas workingonabook about TheEpicofGilgamesh, arguably thefirst true work of world literature. Gilgamesh is theearliest literary text thatweknowtohavehad awide circulation, well beyondits Babylonianorigin, andit is also theearliest text for which we have recovered translations into several foreign languages:portions of translations of theAkkadianoriginalhavebeenfound in Hittite and in Hurrian, andthe Akkadian “original” is itself an expansive adaptation of an earlier Sumerian song cycle. Gilgamesh appears, in fact,tohavebeenthe most popular literary work everwritten in theancient Near East, with texts recovered so far fromno fewer than fourteensites. These are locatednot only all over Mesopotamia but as far away as Hattusa,the Hittitecapitalinwhat is now Turkey,and Megiddo, nearthe Mediterranean coast somefiftymiles north of Jerusalem. What is striking to observe is how fully thecirculation of this most famous Meso- potamian text was bounded by the spread of cuneiform writing. Every version of Gilgamesh that we have, in four different languages and several dialects, is in cuneiform. The fragment found at Megiddo had reached roughly thefarthest point of cuneiform’s daily use southofthe Syriancity-state of Ugarit, ameeting-point of cultures where both Akkadian syllabic cuneiform and alocalalphabetic cuneiform script were employed. Despite the epic’s immensepopularity for more than athousand years after it was first composed in around 1600 BCE,there is no evidence that Gilgamesh wasevertranslated into any non-cuneiform script. In this the epic is typicalofall literary texts writtenin cuneiform,which vanished when cuneiform fell out of usage. As the Assyriologist Andrew George has said, “the epic that we know died with thecuneiform writing system, along with the large proportion of the traditional scribal literature that was of no practical, scientific, or religious use in aworld without cuneiform.”2 Politicaland economic affairs could be conductedusing cuneiform script even beyond theregions where cuneiform was at home.Alarge cacheofcuneiform documents found at Amarna in northern Egypt showsthatthe Egyptian pharaohs hadscribes trained to readand write Akkadian, Hittite, and other languages in cuneiform script. Yet no literary textsincuneiformhave beendiscovered at Amarna.Throughoutthe ancient

2 A. R. George, TheBabylonian Gilgamesh Epic: Introduction,Critical Edition, and Cuneiform Texts,2vols. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003), vol. 1, p. 70. Global Scriptsand theFormationofLiterary Traditions 87 Near East, poems and prosenarratives seem to have foundwrittenformlargely within thebroader script system in whichthey were first composed. If this is so, it maybe better to speak of Gilgamesh as circulatingaround“the cuneiformworld,” rather than the smaller unit “the Mesopotamian world” or theoverly large unit “the ancient Near East.” TheNear East containedthreeprincipal literary systems,each based in adifferent script or family of scripts.Apart fromthe cuneiform traditionthere was the Egyptian hieroglyphicsystem, and several societies along the eastern Mediterraneancoast shared ageneral West Semitic alphabeticsystem, comprising Hebrew, Aramaic, alphabetic Ugaritic, andPhoenician.The separationsbetweenthesegroups were notwatertight; scribes might often be competent in more than one system,and thealphabeticsystems actually derived fromahighly simplifiedalphabeticversion of cuneiform.Yet areader trained only in thetwo dozen signs of alphabetic cuneiform would have no wayatall to read thesix hundred signs of syllabiccuneiform,the standard script used for Sumerian and Akkadianliterature. Conversely, though,asGilgamesh’s impressive distributionshows, awidespread writing system couldopenupboundariesofother sorts, easing awork’s entry into a new region and evenanew language. Ascript also has subtlebut far-reaching effects on what is writtentobegin with. Scripts mayillustratethe classic Sapir-Whorf hypothesis better than languagedoes: writingsystems profoundly shapethe thought-worldof thosewho employ them,not forontological reasons grounded in theparticular sign systemassuch, but becausescripts areneverlearned in avacuum.Instead, awriting system is often the centerpiece of an extendedprogram of education and employment, and in learningascript oneabsorbs key elements of abroad literary history⎯its terms of reference, itshabits of style, andits poetics,oftentranscending thoseofany onelan- guage or country. Muchasanon-native speaker today maylearn aminimal“business English”or Japanese for commercial purposes,many scribeswould have masteredenoughcune- iform to get by with lettersorbills of lading, buttheywould neverhave theskills neededtoentermoredeeply intothe rich literary world of themorecomplex cuneiform or hieroglyphic texts. Thosewho had survivedthe long apprenticeship,onthe other hand, possessed arare andprestigious knowledge, andthese adepts seem to have taken little interestinthe literatures of thesmaller andpoorer societies that employed alphabetic scripts.The very simplicity of thealphabeticscripts, foundation of their eventual victoryovercuneiform andhieroglyphics alike, probably seemed to the cultivated Egyptian or Babylonianscribe to be amark of lesser refinement andweaker expressive power. Cuneiform had more thanliterary prestige: not unlike Latinand classical Chinese, it hadpoliticalvalueasanelitelanguage,only availabletopeopleofsubstan- tial education and social standing,its complexity shieldingmessages fromcommoners’ eyes.Whenaprovincial governor wrote to SargonIIofAssyria in 710 BCE,asking if he coulduse themoreconvenient Aramaic, Sargon sharply reprovedhim: 88 DavidDamrosch [As to what youwrote]:‘[…] if it is acceptabletothe king, let me write and send my messages to thekingonAram[aic]parchment sheets’⎯whywould younot write andsend me messages in Akkadian? Really,the messagewhich youwrite in it must be drawn up in this very manner⎯thisisafixedregulation!3 Bilingualbut monoscriptural, Babylonianscribesinthe second millennium freely trans- latedbackand forth betweenSumerian and Akkadian, and as Akkadian becamethe linguafrancaacrossthe Fertile Crescent,scribes throughout theregion developedmulti- lingual abilitiesbasedinasingle script. The scribal culture that wasgrounded in cuneiform createdastrong bond acrosssocieties likethe Babylonian, Assyrian,and Hittite empires, whose leaders were often at each others’ throats. As aresult, even when Mesopotamia andthe broader FertileCrescentwerepolitically fragmented under various competing regimes, it is appropriate to speak in literary termsofasingle “cuneiform world.” The early caseofcuneiformand its NearEasternrivalsshows apattern that can be foundinthe spread of more fully globallanguages since then:the leadingedgeofa global language is its globalizing script, andthe script canfar outrunthe spreadofthe languageitself.Onceadopted,aglobal script often functions in twoquite different ways at once, both suppressinglocaltraditions andyet oftenalso stimulatingthem in new ways.The newtechnology for writing brings in foreign texts andtraditions that may overridethe indigenous tradition,yet it can alsobecomeapowerfulforce for cultural cohesion in itsadoptedterritory,givingacommon literacy to groups in aregion who formerly had differing scriptsornone at all. When they were forcedtoadopt the Roman alphabetincolonial New Spain, theMexica,Zapotecs, andMaya gainedacommon writingsystemfar easier to learn andemploy thantheir incompatible hieroglyphic systems.They could more readily learnand read each others’ languages, andover time, literacy could spread far beyond theelite circles that had formerly masteredthe old hieroglyphics. On the other hand, more complex scriptscould have advantages of their own. The early cultural and political consolidation of China was fostered by the widespread adoptionofthe pictographicwriting developedbythe Shangpeoplealongthe Yellow Riverduringthe second millennium BCE.Nonphoneticatbase,the Chinese characters could be usedbypeoples of widely different languagesormutually incomprehensible dialects, suchasthe Cantonese to thesouthand theMuslim Hui in the west, far beyond thesystem’s Mandarin-speaking base. Over many centuries, China had anational script rather than anationallanguage. Conversely,today,the modern politicaldivision betweenTaiwan andthe mainlandisvisually reflectedinthe present bifurcation of the Chinese script. Sometimes, localgroups havewelcomed apowerful foreign script, but from Hellenistic timesonward, indigenous peoples have often had good reasontobewareof

3 “LetterofSargonII,” in: The BabylonianCorrespondence of Sargon and Sennacherib,ed. Manfred Dietrich(Helsinki: Helsinki University Press, 2003), p. 5. Global Scriptsand theFormationofLiterary Traditions 89 Greeksbearing Greek.Even when the gift was only an offered alphabetand not thefull- scale imposition of aforeign language, it camewith cultural strings attached.Inand of themselves, scripts convey little cultural content, butscripts are never simply learned “inthemselves.” Often the new script is used first to convey ascripture andthena whole complexofvalues,assumptions, and traditions.Thesesooncometoinclude secular as well as religious stories andpoetry,and as aresult,evenwriting composedin the indigenous language begins to finditself in dialogue with thereligious andliterary traditionsthatfollowinthe script’s wake. It is insufficient, then, to speak only of language in thinkingof“theLatinMiddle Ages” or of “globalArabic.”Thesegloballanguages existwithinapenumbra of the evenmoreglobalscripts thatcomewith them and extend beyondthem. Often, an im- portedscript’s “home” languageislearned and written by the samepeople whowilluse itsscripttocompose work in their native tongue,aswhen Akkadian speakers were trained in Sumerian as part of their scribal education,orwhenmedieval Japanesepoets wouldcompose Chinese as well as Japanese verse.The vernacularworks of such bilingualpoets are likely to be infusedwithvaluestaken over from the foreignlanguage they are also using. But even writers whouse the new script only fortheir native vernacularoften show deep awareness of the script’s underlyingculture, sometimesap- propriating its stories, sometimesparodying or contesting them,often doing both at once. Good examples of this complexrelationcan be found in medieval Iceland, which producedone of the largestand richest vernacular literatures in medievalEurope. In convertingtoChristianity andmaking aparallelshift fromrunes to theLatin alphabet, theeleventh-centuryIcelandersset the stagefor the explosion of vernacular writing of sagas and skaldic poetry in theensuing three centuries. Sometimesthey wrote in Latin, usually for religious purposes,and sometimesthey translatedFrenchromances into Ice- landic,yet more often they composed theirown poemsand tales directlyinIcelandic,in aversion of theRoman alphabet adapted to local speech. TheNorse sagas are not part of Latinliterature, yettheyare very much apartofthe Latinscriptworld. Asubtlebut far-reaching orientation of local lore towardChristian and classical traditions can be found in Norse texts whereone might least expect it,such as in Snorri Sturluson’s ProseEdda (c.1240). This is the fullest medievalcompendium of pagan Germanic myths, which Snorrihas assembled as aresource for poetic allusions and tropes.Inhis preface,hetells us that he is anxious for youngpoets to know thestories behindthe epithets andmetaphors traditionally usedinskaldic poetry,lest theold poetic languagebecomeobscure anddie out.Yet he does much more thanpresent the myths as apoetic repertory; instead, he boldly connects the northerngodstoclassical history, euhemerizing themaslegendaryheroes later taken forgods, andheactually offers linguistic analyses to linkthemtoTroy: Near the center of the world where what we call Turkeylies, wasbuilt the most famous of all palaces and halls⎯Troybyname. [...] One of the kings was called Múnón or Mennón. He marriedadaughterofthe chiefkingPriam whowas called Tróán,and they had ason named 90 DavidDamrosch

Trór⎯we call him Thór. [...] he travelledfar and wide exploring all the regions of the world and by himself overcoming all theberserks and giants and an enormous dragon and manywild beasts.4 Snorri goes on to relatethat Thór’s descendantÓðinjourneyed northwith his family and begantorule in Germanyand then Sweden: “Thereheappointed chieftains after the pattern of Troy [...].” Snorri evenclaimsthat the collective name for the Norse gods, the Æsir, derives from their homeland, “Asia.”5 Iceland provides afascinating case of free choicetoenter anew scriptworldasan independentnation, andthe process waswell documentedevenatthe time. In the twelfth andthirteenthcenturies, Icelandicscholars freelyexperimentedwiththe alphabet, adapting it to thesoundsofNorse, and theorizingthe relationofspeechtowriting. Most of thesurviving manuscripts of the Prose Edda,infact,are bound together with one or more grammatical treatises, most fully in the Codex Wormianus,whichincludes no fewerthanfour appended treatises,inventively known today as the First, Second, Third,and Fourth Grammatical Treatise.The writer of the Second Grammatical Treatise makes amusicalanalogy for his script, inviting his readertoplay thesounds on thechart likeamusicalinstrument:“The mouth andthe tongue are the playing-field of words. On thatfieldare raised those letters whichmake up thewhole language, and language plucks some(of them)like [...] harpstrings, or (as when)the keys of a [simphonie] are pressed.”6 (Recentlyimported from France,asimphoniewas akindof fiddlewithstrings that wouldbestoppedwith keys to soundagivennote.) The First GrammaticalTreatise presents hischart of vowels and consonants as akindof keyboard, an instrumentfor creative play. Earlierstill,writing in around 1170, the author of the First Grammatical Treatise shows a sovereign freedominexperimenting with the newly imported alphabet. Though it might appear that theIcelandersare simplygivingintoforeign ways,heasserts that the Norse alphabetisno mereadaptation butanew creation: [...] as languages are all unlike, ever since they parted and branched off fromone and the same language, it is now needful to usedifferentletters in writing them,and not the same for all,just as the Greeks do not write Greek with Latin letters, and theLatin writers do not write with Greek letters [...]but each nation writes itslanguagewith letters of its own.7 The FirstGrammaticalTreatise goes on to describe howhehas acceptedsomeLatin letters, “rejected” others, and inventednew letters as needed, particularly for vowels,

4 The Prose Edda of Snorri Sturluson: Tales from Norse Mythology,sel.and trans. Jean I. Young (Berkeley:UniversityofCalifornia Press, 1966), pp. 25−26. 5 The Prose Edda,p.27. 6 Fabrizio D. Raschellà, The So-CalledSecond Grammatical Treatise:AnOrthographicPatternof LateThirteenth-Century Icelandic (Florence: Felice Le Monnier, 1982), p. 55. Translation modified. 7 EinarHaugen, First Grammatical Treatise: The Earliest Germanic Phonology (Baltimore: Linguistic Society of America, 1950), p. 12. Global Scriptsand theFormationofLiterary Traditions 91 “[...] since our language has the greatest number of vowel sounds.”8 He also uses small capitals to indicate lengthenedconsonants⎯adistinction needed, he notes, as otherwise it is impossibletoscanskaldic poetry correctly,and “[t]he skalds are our authoritiesin all problemstouching the artofwritingorspeaking, just as craftsmen [in their crafts] andlawyers in the laws.”9 Havingset outanalphabet of fiftydifferentletters in all (counting diacritics as creatingnew letters),the First GrammaticalTreatise ends with a note of encouragement to thereader⎯or achallenge: “Now any manwho wishesto write [...]let himvalue my efforts and excuse my ignorance, andlet him use the alphabetwhichhas already beenwritten here,until he gets onethathelikes better.”10 Snorri Sturluson, then, was writinginaworld of sovereign grammatological adaptation,guidedbypoetry andbyanalogy to musical instruments imported fromFrance. Snorri’s treatmentofclassical andChristian literary materialshows asimilar freedom. Though he is adevoutChristianand insiststhatThór andÓðinwere mortal heroes, Snorri opens thebody of the Prose Edda with avirtual parody of the Christian Trinity. ASwedish king, Gylfi, goes to see the powerfulÆsirwho have createdsuch astirin the region, andwhen he comestotheircastleheisadmitted by aman juggling knives, keeping seveninthe airatonce. This ominous juggler leads himtothe throne room of the Æsir, whereGylfi finds “three high-seats oneabove the other, and aman seatedin each [...].”Their names are Hár, Jafnhár, and Thriði⎯“High One,” “Just-as-high,” and “Third.”11 This parodicHoly Trinity then answers hisquestions about ancienttimes, retellingthe great Norse myths aboutcreation,the ash treeYggdrasil that holdsthe world together despite thedragongnawing at itsroot, andthe coming end of the world, Ragnarök, theTwilight of theGods. Finally,the Æsir tire of all thequestions andend thesession⎯not by dismissing Gylfi butbythemselves vanishing,with afinalwordof admonitionfromHigh One: ‘[…] And now, if youhaveanything more to ask, Ican’tthink howyou can manage it, for I’ve neverheard anyone tell more of the storyofthe world. Make what use of it youcan.’ The next thing was that [...] [Gylfi] heard atremendousnoise on all sidesand turned about; and when he hadlookedall roundhim [...] he was standing in the open air on alevel plain. He saw neither hallnor stronghold. Thenhewentonhis wayand cominghome to his kingdom related the tidings he had seen and heard, and after himthese storieshavebeen handed down from one man to another.12 Snorri is well aware that thepoetic traditions he cherishes are under attack by the new Christian order. In his prologue,Snorri describes theearlygrowth of thehuman racein termsofamaterial gain butalso amemoryloss:

8 Haugen, First Grammatical Treatise,p.13. 9 Haugen, First Grammatical Treatise,p.20. 10 Haugen, First Grammatical Treatise,pp. 29–30. 11 Haugen, First Grammatical Treatise,pp. 30–31. 12 The Prose Edda,pp. 92–93. 92 DavidDamrosch As the populationofthe world increased [...] thegreat majorityofmankind, loving the pursuit of money and power, left off payinghomage to God. This grew to such apitch that they boycotted anyreference to God, and then how could anyonetelltheir sons about the marvels connected with Him?Inthe end they lost theveryname of God and there was not to be found in all the worldamanwho knew his Maker.13 Snorri is nominally talking aboutthe ancientswho forget thetrue God andfall into paganism, yethis ownbookispreciselydevoted to telling young poets about the marvels performed by the pagan gods whose names are now beingboycotted under Christianity. Theconcern for cultural memory is expressed within the Edda by no less a figure than the chief god Óðin: ‘Two ravens sit on his shoulders and bring to his earsall thenewsthattheysee or hear; they are called Hugin [“Thought”] and Munin [“Memory”]. He sends themout at daybreak to fly over the whole world,and they come back at breakfast-time;bythis means he comes to know a greatdeal about what is going on,and on accountofthismen callhim thegod-of-ravens. As it is said: Over the world everyday fly Hugin and Munin; IfearthatHugin will not comeback, though I’mmoreconcerned aboutMunin.’14

Snorri Sturluson waswriting twoand ahalf centuriesafter Iceland’s conversion in the year 1000, andwas makingwhathecould of thepagan myths in aChristian world, so his strategic linking of theold material to the classical traditioncould be seenasafairly late stageinthe development of themedieval Latinscriptworld. Yetwhen we have texts written closer to the time of adoption of the Roman alphabet,wecan findequally noteworthyadaptations, even by writers in settings wherepagan practices are stillvery much in use. Particularly intriguingexamples comefromsixteenth-centuryMexicoand Guatemala, where Mayanand Mexica writers withinageneration of the Conquest began writing downtheir oldstories andpoems,using the Roman alphabet to write their native languages. Theadoptionofthe Romanalphabethad an enormous effectonthe shapingofthe poetry we cannow read. Firstly, the Romanalphabet gavenativepoets afar easier and more nuancedtech- nology for recording theirwords. Theolder hieroglyphic systemsofthe Mayaand the Mexica(the Aztecs and their neighbors) were highly effectivefor conveying mathematical andastronomical data, arealm in whichthe Aztecs andparticularly theMaya

13 The Prose Edda,p.23. 14 The Prose Edda,pp. 63–64. Global Scriptsand theFormationofLiterary Traditions 93 were world leaders. Beyondtheir mathematical andfinancial uses,however, these sys- temsseem to haveservedmostly as prompts to memory, well suited fornotingkey facts about historicalchronologyand events, butnot sufficiently developed to record aparticular setofwords to express thoseevents. Linguists are stillengagedindeciphering the surviving hieroglyphic inscriptions and books(many of which were burned by the Conquistadoresinany event), andsoour knowledgeofthe pre-Conquest corpus is limited. Fromwhat we now know,though, it appears that theold hieroglyphic systems didn’t lendthemselves to full-scalepoeticornarrativeexpression. Theimported Roman alphabet gave nativewriters anew opportunity to record their literature in lastingform not dependentonthe memory of the users of the text.Yet the Latin/Spanishalphabetwas directly imposed on theradically differentphoneticsystems of Mesoamerican languages, without theextensive additions andmodifications that ended up making Cyrillic, forexample, almostunrecognizabletoreaders of Greek.The directuse of theRoman alphabet in Mexico meant thatwhat thenative writers could record was pervasively “normalized” toward Spanishand Latin phonetics.Asrecorded in the sixteenthcentury,many Nahuatl words soundsurprisinglysimilartoSpanish or Latinwords:“god,” forexample, is teotl,akissingcousin of deus (dative: deo)ordios. There are hundredsofcomparable similarities, leadingoccasional commentators over the yearstopostulatesomedirectlineoftransmission, as though an enterprisingAeneas hadcrossedthe Atlantic, dictionary in hand. Yetthe similarity of teotl to deus is more readily explained by thefact that most of the earlycolonialNahuatl texts were written by native informants whohad beentrainedatthe seminary of theHolyCross in Mexico City,establishedonlyadecade after theConquest, where thelanguage of instruction wasLatin.The native writers were capableofmixing Nahuatl, Latinand Spanish together in asingle sentence, as in amarginalgloss to one Aztec poem:next to a reference to Moyocoyatzin (“the One Who Creates Himself,” an epithet of thegod Tezcatlipoca), the writer notes, “yehuanyadiosglosa”⎯“this is to be read as ‘God.’”15 Even when they treat purely pre-Conquest material, then, theearliest Colonial-era nativetexts are already profoundly shaped by theirwriters’ entry intothe Latinscript- world. This shaping extendsbeyondthe lexical level, for few if any of these texts really do present “pure” pre-Conquestmaterial,though commentators have often wished to read them as though they did. TheMayan PopolVuh,for example, has usuallybeen taken as atimeless mythic narrative,but even though it was written only thirty years after the Conquestand focused on ancientmyths, it is already in dialogue with the biblical traditions thatwere being transmitted to thewriters along withthe alphabet. From the start,the book’s authors openly allude to their present setting. As they say at thebeginning of thebook:

15 Poesía Náhuatl,ed. Ángel María Garibay Kintana, 3vols. (Mexico City:Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México, InstitutodeHistoria, Seminario de Cultura Náhuatl,1964–1968), vol.1, p. 12. 94 DavidDamrosch Here we shall inscribe, hereweshall implant the Ancient Word, the potentialand source for everything done in the citadel of Quiché, in the nation of theQuiché people. ... We shall write about this now amid the preaching of GodinChristendomnow.Weshall bringitout because there is no longer aplace to seeit. ... There is the original book andancient writing, buthewho reads and pondersithides hisface.16 The new technology of theLatinalphabetenables the Mayan authors to give anew and probably much fuller version of their hieroglyphic “Council Book,”whichthey claimto havelost(andwhich has since been lost in fact) butwhich they appeartobeconsulting as they retell their stories. From their references to thehieroglyphic version,itseems to havebeen basically an aidtodivination, devoted largely to charting the movement of thesun,moon, andplanets,with brief notations of the stories of divineactivities that were thoughttounderlie theastralorder. So thealphabetic PopolVuh is amuchfuller literary work than its hieroglyphic predecessor would have been.Atthe same time,itis deeplymarked by its authors’ fear for theloss of cultural memory threatened by the invasion thathas broughtthe alphabettothem. The second half of the Popol Vuh centers on themigrationofthe divine or semi- divineQuiché ancestors from Tulan in eastern Yucatán to their newhomeinGuate- mala. As they head westward, they bewail thelossoftheir homeland, which they describe as firstand foremost alinguisticloss: ‘Alas! We’ve left our languagebehind.How did we do it?We’re lost!Where werewe deceived?Wehad only one language when we came to Tulan,and we had only oneplace of emergence and origin. We haven’t done well,’ said all thetribes beneath thetrees and bushes.17 Alater expedition retrieves their sacredwritings, andwith thesetheycan establish themselves in their new land. The ancestral journey isn’t only shapedbyindigenouscultural memories; it also builds on biblical themes. To give just one example, the Quiché ancestors reachtheir newhomelandbyparting thewaters of thesea: [I]tisn’t clear howtheycrossed over thesea.Theycrossed over as if there werenosea. They just crossed over on some stones,stones piledupinthe sand.And they gave it aname: Rock Rows, FurrowedSands was theirname for theplace wherethey crossed through themidst of the sea. Wherethe waters divided,theycrossedover.18 This accountcombines twodistinctmodesofcrossing thesea, on arock bridge or by theparting of thewaters. Quite likely,the rock bridge was theoriginalmeans, as reflectedinthe name“Rock Rows,”while thesecond method has been adapted from the story of Mosespartingthe Red Sea.

16 Popol Vuh: The Definitive Editionofthe Mayan Book of theDawn of Lifeand the Glories of Gods and Kings,ed. and trans. Dennis Tedlock (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1985), p. 71. 17 PopolVuh: The Definitive Edition of the Mayan Book,p.173. 18 Popol Vuh: The Definitive Editionofthe Mayan Book,p.177. Global Scriptsand theFormationofLiterary Traditions 95 This identification of abiblicalsourcemight seem alittle random,evenfar-fetched, except that we findanexplicitreferencetothis very piece of biblicalhistory in arelated text, the Titleofthe LordsofTotonicapán.Thisworkwas written in 1554,within a couple of years of the alphabetic PopolVuh,and quite possibly by the sameperson or people. In this text, thenative nobility of Totonicapán arerecording their history so as to justify continuing to holdtitle to their lands,inthe faceofSpanish effortstotake them over.Thisishow they describe thecrossingofthe Caribbean from Tulan,under theguidanceoftheir culture hero Balam-Quitzé:“When they arrivedatthe edge of the sea, Balam-Qitzétoucheditwith his staff and at once apathopened, which thenclosed up again, for thus thegreat Godwished it to be done, because they were sonsof Abrahamand Jacob.”19 Clearly aware of theSpaniards’speculation that the civilized peoples of Mesoamerica must be the lost tribes of Israel,the lords of Totonicapán turn this belief to their advantage,framing theirhistory in biblicaltermstoassert that the title to their landwas giventhembythe Spaniards’ Godhimself.

Comparable struggles over identityand cultural memory occurred in East Asia as the earlystirrings of nationalismled first Korea andthenVietnamtoshift away fromthe Sinographic scriptworld.KingSejong’sKorean script, createdinthe mid-fifteenth century, didn’t truly displace Sino-Korean formanyyears. For centuries, Korean writerscontinued to thinkofthemselves as part of the Sinitic scriptworld⎯even though they might alsoseektoassert their equalityorevensuperiority over theChinesehome- landoftheir writingsystem.Bythe turn of the twentiethcentury,however, theability to read Chinese wasbecomingathingofthe past in Korea. As someeighty percentof surviving premodern Korean literatureiswritten in Chinese, this change made most earlier textsbyKorean writers unreadabletotheir successor. Avivid expression of the sense of foreignness of earlier Koreanwriting can be seeninapoem by Pak Tujin(1916–1998), entitled“Book of Poems:” Abook of poems lay open white on thesandbefore theblue sea. Wind turned the pages, ruffling themone by one. The warm wordsinthe book hadetched within them asad and beautiful heart. Thoseprinted words became birds,began to fly. One, then another; ahundred,athousand,

19 TheAnnalsofthe Cakchiquels,trans.Adrián Recinos,and DeliaGoetz (Norman:Universityof Oklahoma Press,1953); Title of theLords of Totonicapán,trans. Dionisio José Chonay,and Delia Goetz (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1953), p. 170. 96 DavidDamrosch

higher, higher, glimmering, drawn into the sky white poems of birds, birds of poems. Flower petals fell trembling from the sky. Those birds that had recited poems in the sky forgetting, unable to speak the verse theyknew became flowers falling abovethe sea. Then they became stars in the fardistant sky. Those birds that had recited poems in the sky theworld’s sad and beautifulpoems, recited the poemsinthe book so brightly theytwinkled now, stars in theworldofstars.20 In anotherpoem, Pak Tujinvoices hisconcern for thelosstocultural memory following the introduction of thenew Hangulscript: “InscriptionEtchedbyWater” One stroke at atime,now and then in spare moments retracing the strokes with water duringten times ahundred thousand years Iwrote oneword. After atime, later again quietly searchingout the place, then my hand’s touch exploring gently, retracing each of the strokes, afterpassing yetagain ten timesahundred thousand years, Iwrote one word. In the etched formofeachstroke gleamed agorgeous rainbow, in thesun’s rays lighting thewater arainbow of the currents. Therewerethe timesoncewhenIlistened, inclined my ear to the messages, but having heard then afterward, andafterward recorded theinner sense of thosewords, now Ifind that after carving afew ancient characters year upon year, fortoo long, Ihavecompletelyforgotten what words Iwrote.21 Yet the shift to anew script neednot entail apurelossofthe older tradition, which may becomearesource for the creation of anewly independent national literature.Agood

20 Pak Tujin,“Book of Poems,” trans. EdwardW.Poitras, in: The Columbia Anthology of Modern Korean Poetry,ed. David R. McCann (New York: Columbia University Press, 2004), p. 126. 21 Modern Korean Poetry,pp. 127–128. Global Scriptsand theFormationofLiterary Traditions 97 example of this possibility canbeseeninthe foundational work of modern Vietnamese literature,Nguye Du’s Truyen Kieu,or“The Tale of Kieu”(c. 1810), averse adaptation of aMingDynasty novel, Jin Yun Qiao zhuan (late 1600s). Nguyen Du made far- reaching changes to the originalnovel in creating his verse narrative. He wrote TheTale of Kieu notinHan Viet (Sino-Vietnamese) but in ChuNom,the independent Vietnamese script derivedfromChinese, and he employed anativepoeticform taken from oral poetry,known as the luc-bat or “six-eight,”with couplets of sixsyllables in thefirst line andeight in thesecond. Nguyen Du’s ambitious reframingofhis Chinese source textwas part of ageneral movement by thewritersofhis era to create aliterature of their ownbyrefashioning theChinese literary heritageinwhich they hadbeen trained. As John Balabanhas noted: Whileconcurring on the prestige of Chinese writing, Vietnamese literati were intenton establishing theindependenceofVietnamese writing, even as they accepted models from the full range of Chinese literaryforms,especiallythe “regulated verse”form,orlüshi,ofthe Tang dynasty.[...] Theform reached aesthetic heights in Vietnamesehands in the 19th century, with poetssuch as theconcubineHoXuan Huong, whocomposed regulated verse poems that were complete doubleentendres, filled with tonal puns(noi lai). Still others created regulated verse palindromes that would be in Vietnamese fromstart to finish but then, going backward, ideogram by ideogram,becamepoems in Chinese, switching languages on the reversal.22 As an adaptive transformation of aChinese novel, The Tale of Kieu can rightfully be considered part of the widerChinese tradition⎯though it has been little discussed by Chinese literary scholars, who mostly consider it as ameretranslation of aminorwork of Chinese fiction. Yet Nguyen Du turned the story to dramaticallynew uses forhimself and his culture. In hishands,the talereflects Vietnam’s longstruggle for independence fromChina andalsothe new reality of thegrowinginfluence of theFrench, who had providedsupport to overthrowthe Le Dynasty in Vietnam not long before Nguyen Du began hispoem. Having worked as an official in theolder dynasty, Nguyen Du had reluctantlybegun workingfor its successor, theNguyen Dynasty(no relation to NguyenDuhimself), evidently concluding that lingeringloyalty to thedeposed dynasty wouldnot help rescue the country fromchaos. In retellingthe story of Kieu, Nguyen Du notonlyadapted anovel fromChinese proseintoVietnamese verse,but he translatedhis ownexperiences into hers. Kieu’s romantic struggles implicitly reflect his own political turmoil; she has to sellherself into prostitution to redeem her family fromgambling debts,thenshe has aseries of mis- adventures and love affairs before finally becomingreunitedwithher first love. Even as he shapes Kieu’s story to reflect his owncircumstances, NguyenDumakes clear his deepconnectiontothe Chinese traditionthroughoutthe novel. It is interesting that as a male poetonthe peripheryofthe Sinophoneworld, Nguyen Du more than once identified himself with female Chinese artists. Not only is the fictional Kieu an ac-

22 JohnBalaban,“VietnameseLiterature.” Encyclopaedia Britannica Online,www.britannica.com/ EBchecked/topic/628557/Vietnamese-literature(retrieved Sept. 7, 2009). 98 DavidDamrosch complished poet, calligrapher, andlutenist; Nguyen Du also identified with an actual womanpoet, Hsiao-Ching, aseventeenth-century poetwho wasforcedtobecomea concubinetoamanwhose jealous primary wife burnedalmostall of her poems. In a poem called“ReadingHsiao-Ching,” NguyenDureflects on her fate, andhis own: West Lakeflower garden: adesert, now. Alone,atthe window, Iread through old pages. Asmudge of rouge, ascentofperfume, but Istill weep. Is thereafatefor books? Why mourn for ahalf-burned poem? There is nothing, there is no onetoquestion, and yetthis miseryfeels like my own. Ah,inanother threehundred years willanyoneweep, remembering my fate?23 Nguyen Du hadadoublestruggle:for poetic recognition,and for the creationofan independentnation whosepoet he could be. The Tale of Kieu is alsoapoem about a womanpoet,and in onekey scene Kieu’spoetic abilitysaves her before ajudge whois about to condemnher. While The Tale of Kieu broadly followsthe outlines of its Chinese source, Nguyen Du elevates her to be his centralcharacter,overher warlord lover whodominates the Chinese novel, andhesignificantly changed the story’s ending, havingKieufinally renounce her stillloyal firstlove, Kim. She persuades him to marry her sister, so that shecan live with them as aBuddhistnun, free fromromantic attachments⎯anotable departure from the happy reunion andmarriage with whichthe Chinese novelends. Throughout thepoem,Nguyen Du emphasizes Kieu’s exceptionalphysicalcharms along with herartistic ability, often comparingher to ablossoming flower,but these images finally lead up to aBuddhist emphasis on transienceand renunciation rather than an erotic fulfillment: flowers bloom but then fade,beesinvade their innermost recesses, reedsare flattenedbythe northwind, bamboossplitand tilesslip fromroofs. Afounder of vernacular Vietnamese poetry,Nguyen Du wasalsoadevotee of the classicalChinese canon that he evokes on every page.Yet in makingKieuanemblem foranoppressed nation,heenvisions anation very different from imperial China⎯or from Napoleonic France: Vietnam will be anationthatrenouncespower and security, a nationthatdoesn’t insist on sexual,ethnic, or literary purity. He is at onceaproud member of an international Sinitic poetictradition and an innovatorinVietnamese verse, apoetofpassion and of renunciation,politicalengagement andwithdrawal,his creative innovation fuelledbythe interfusion of foreign and localtraditions. Acenturylater, during theperiodofanticolonialstruggleagainst theFrench, The Tale of Kieu wastransliteratedfrom Cho Nam into the new, French-derivedalphabetic

23 Nguyen Du,“Reading Hsiao-Ching,” in: The Longman Anthology of World Literature,2nd ed., edd. David Damrosch et al. (New York:Pearson Longman, 2009), vol.E,p.252. Global Scriptsand theFormationofLiterary Traditions 99 script, NamViet.Thoughthis scriptwas developedand promoted by Jesuit mis- sionaries,itwas embraced by many Vietnameseintellectuals as helping themtoreach themassesand promote political actionagainstthe very foreigners who hadintroduced the alphabet.The activistpoets of twentieth-century Vietnam lookedbackto Nguyen Du as the founder of their literature and an inspiringfigure in the struggle for Vietnamese independence. Agood expression of thisview is amidcentury poem, “Thoughts on Nguyen,” by Che Lan Vien, founderofthe Vietnamese Writer’s Association: Born into thosefoul times of duskand dust, youreached and touched no soulmatebyyour side. Your sorrow matched the fate of humankind: Kieu spokeyour thoughts and crystallized your life.

Kingsroseand fell—thepoemstill abides. You fought and won your feats on waves of words. You plantedstakes in the Bach-dang of time: our language andthe moon forever shine. Proud though he is of his poetic ancestor’s accomplishment, CheLan Vienisnot so happy with Nguyen Du’s choiceofaChinese source forhis work.Hegoes on to ask: Why borrow foreign scenes?Our land flows not with one Ch’ien-t’ang butmanyfatefulstreams. Whysplityourself? NguyenDu, To Nhu, Thanh Hien: the tears in Kieu merge all three into one.

Need we one centurymoretofeelfor Nguyen? Mourningour nightfalls, we soon grievefor his. We love kings’ calls to arms,yet we shall not forgetthose frost-white reeds along Kieu’s road.24 As acommitted nationalist,Che LanVien wouldhavepreferred for the foundational work of modern Vietnamese literature to have used local traditionsratherthanaforeign source at all. Recalling theseveralpen names that Nguyen Du used (partly to avoid censorship), CheLan Vien suggests thathis predecessor unduly “split himself” between Chinese andVietnamese traditions through hisdirectuse of aChinese source.Nguyen Du himself wouldnot likely have experiencedhis writing as such a“splitting,” since Vietnamese literati of his era proudly considered literary Chineseaspart of their own heritage andculture. ButChe LanVienunderstands the work as an actofresistance to thevery culture from which it took itsliterary model:thus he vividly describes Nguyen Du as planting“stakes in the Bach-dang of time”⎯recalling thetactics of the Vietnamese general Tran Hung Dao, who plantedstakesin1288inthe tidalBach-dang

24 Che LanVien, “ThoughtsonKieu,” in: The Longman Anthology of World Literature, edd.Damrosch et al., vol. E, p. 282. 100 DavidDamrosch River in northern Vietnam to impale invadingwar ships sentfromChina by Kublai Khan.

To conclude. Bothinthe ancient “cuneiform world” and, later, in expansions andtrans- formationsofthe Romanalphabetand the Arabicand Sinitic writing systems,literary productionhas been shapedasmuchbythe spreadofscripts as by thespread of particular languages.The explosionoftranslation over thepasttwo centuries has certainlyled to agreat increase in movement across different scriptworlds, butevennow,aswecan see in cases fromTurkey and Chechnya to Vietnam and Taiwan, local cultures make importantdecisions when they position themselves in relationtoglobal scripts,and so this paradigm retains an ongoingrelevance today. An attentiontothe interplay of languageand script in earlier periods canalso give us abetter understanding of the origins of ourmodern national literatures.Whenhewas formulatingthe concept of Weltliteratur in the1820s,duringthe heyday of European nationalism,itwas natural for Goethe to speakofworld literatureasbased in the inter- actionsofestablishednational literatures,treatingworld literature as asecondary or evenfuture formation: “Nationalliteratur will jetztnicht viel sagen,” he announcedto his youngdisciple Eckermann; “die Epocheder Weltliteratur ist an derZeit, undjeder mußjetzt dazu wirken, dieseEpoche zu beschleunigen.”25 An examination of thespread of scripts in earlier periods showsinsteadthat literatureshave oftendevelopedinjust the oppositedirection: in most periods of history,local or nationalliteratures have developedwithin⎯and, often, against⎯an existing regional or global world literature. It is arare country that develops itsown scriptand its ownliterature in sovereign independence fromother societies; ancient Egypt is much more the exceptionthanthe rule. More typical even among the originators of scripts are theSumeriansand the Phoenicians,whose pioneering scripts were quickly taken up by more powerful groups aroundthem. Most literatures are formed withinbroad systemsgrounded in the power of scriptstocross theboundaries of time,space, andlanguage itself. Arisingwithina transculturalcontext, alocal or nationalliteraturemustnegotiate adouble bind:the new script thatcan give form to apeople’s traditionsalsobrings with it the threat of thelocal culture’s absorption into abroader milieu. Worksasdisparateasthe Prose Edda,the PopolVuh,and The Tale of Kieu show thatwriters have repeatedlyfound creative ways to negotiate these tensions. Noah’s raven couldfindnothing to bring back to him in the days after the endingofthe Flood that hadwashed human culture away, but in The Prose Edda we learn that Óðin’s ravens are more successful: they bring backnewsfromaround theworld. God of

25 Johann PeterEckermann, Gespräche mit Goetheinden letzten Jahren seines Lebens (Berlin: Aufbau Verlag, 1982), p. 198. Global Scriptsand theFormationofLiterary Traditions 101 wisdom,Óðinisblessed⎯andcursed⎯with foreknowledge, andheknows he canonly usethe ravens’reports for atime, untilthe gods enter their fatedtwilight andfadefrom memory:one day Munin will fail to return.Óðin is also thegod of poetry, however, and perhaps he foresees theday when poets will adoptthe script broughtbythe newdispen- sation that will displacehim.Resisting theoblivion threatened by the advancingculture, these poetswill use theforeign scripttocelebrate theirformer patron and hismarvelous deeds, andtheir poemswill keepalive thememoryofthe ravennamed “Memory.”

VILASHINI COOPPAN Codes for World Literature: Network Theory and the Field Imaginary

In the current moment of what hasbeen called“the network society”the concept of world andthe practice of worlding have undergone aphilosophical reorientation, rooted precisely in ashift away fromroots andall that they imply.1 In AThousandPlateaus Gilles Deleuze andFélixGuattari contrast roots to rhizomes, an organicfigurefor a branching structure that hasnocenter andnoperiphery,notop andnobottom.The rhizomeisatopologystructuredinstead by depth, by points of density or saturation, and by lines of connectionordeparture. Where “root-thinking”espouses the fixing and binarizinglogics of essentially territorial thought,map-making in itsmostimperial form, rhizomatic thinkingurges us to “connectthe roots or trees backupwith a rhizome.” “One will often be forced to take deadends”and “tofindafoothold in […] rigidified territorialities” yetinother cases it will be possible to “bolster oneself directly on alineofflightenablingone to blow apart strata, cutroots, and make new connections.”Ifthis is amap, it is onewhose “coordinates are determined not by theoreticalanalysesimplying universalsbut by apragmatics composing multiplicities or aggregates of intensities.” 2 The branching rhizome, Deleuze andGuattariexplain, is “reducibleneither to theOne northe multiple[…] [and] has neitherbeginningnor end […] [it is] asystem without aGeneral and withoutanorganizingmemoryorcentral automaton,defined solelybyacirculation of states.”3 In differentlanguagebut with similar import, media theorists such as Jan vanDijk and Armand Mattelart describe networksociety as alinkedsystem of nodes in which circulationand connectiontrump separation anddistinction. Networks are nothier- archical,meaning averticalordering in whichlower levelelements are subsumed into higher level elements, as in thegreat chain of being. Rather, networks are heterarchical, meaning that units overlap, intersect,coexist,and communicate. As an essentiallycom-

1 Jan A. G. M. van Dijk, The Network Society: Social Aspects of New Media (London: Sage Publications, 2006), p. 22. 2 Gilles Deleuzeand Félix Guattari, AThousand Plateaus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia,trans. Brian Massumi(Minneapolis: UniversityofMinnesota Press, 1987), p. 15. 3 Deleuze and Guattari, AThousandPlateaus,p.21. 104 VilashiniCooppan municative structure, Mattelart argues, the network society inherits the linked worldof internationalcommunication thatemerged with late nineteenth-century nationalist- imperialistprojects of sovereign control, including railways,telegraph cables, phone lines, and, in the last two decades, digital pathways of Euro-American provenancebut global reach.4 For Mattelart, theseinfrastructures for informational flow are an epiphe- nomenonofterritorialsovereignty andEnlightenmentuniversalism,grounded in the twin fantasmsofanideal human nature andaunified, standardizinglanguage, of which binary code mightbethe apotheosis. At thesametime, however, communicationtech- nologies can and do “free[...] the flow[s].”5 This turn of phrase echoes Deleuze and Guattari’s notion of anetworked assemblage in whichflows of energy,signification and meaning are regularly captured andreleased.Networks themselves capture adynamic processand invite alayeredanalysis. As aworking model for world literature,they offerapathway to somelongstandingquestions andquibbles in thefield. In anetwork certainthingsdisappear: centers andthe discourse of origin andcopy associatedwiththem;teleologies andthe narratives of progress embedded in them;the all-knowing,centered and central subjectbefore whose gaze theentiretyofthe worldis laid out,ready to be known. The arrogance of such asubject has figured in critiques of world literature’s“scopic vision,” to use Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak’sterm.6 Spivak’s dismissal of thenew “Moretti-style comparativist”dependsonanunderstandingofthe mapasnecessarily hegemonic, aversion of analytic imperialism,toborrow theterm that Deleuze and Guattari use in Anti-Oedipus: Capitalismand Schizophrenia7 to condemn psychoanalysis’s literal triangulationofthe world⎯Mommy, Daddy,Me, everywhere.Tothose of us engagedinmappingworldliterature,the network, withits horizontalrather thanhierarchical, pluralizing ratherthan totalizingenergies, offers an alternative model of potentially decolonizingforce. PaceSpivak, world literature does not necessarilyorconstitutively flatten the globe, especially if it turns out that it is not a maptofill in but anetwork accessedintermittently, at shifting locales and at various nodal points across thevast swath of literary history. World literature has often been defined as aproblemofmapping, whetherof perspectivalorientation (as in Franco Moretti’s andDavid Damrosch’s claiming of it as aproblem,not an object,and their espousal of “distant”and “elliptical”reading) or of interscalar jumping, as in Wai-CheeDimock’s model of aliterary “deeptime” in which thatold thing,“American literature,” becomes“acrisscrossingset of pathways, open-

4 Armand Mattelart, Networking the World, 1794-2000,trans. Liz Carey-Libbrecht and James A. Cohen (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2000). 5 Mattelart, Networking theWorld,p.2. 6 Gayatri ChakravortySpivak, Death of aDiscipline (New York: Columbia University Press, 2003), p. 108,fn. 1. 7 GillesDeleuze and Félix Guattari, Anti-Oedipus:Capitalism and Schizophrenia,trans.Robert Hurley,Mark Seem, and Helen R. Lane (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1983), pp.51−56. Codesfor World Literature: Network Theory andthe FieldImaginary 105 endedand evermultiplying, weaving in and outofothergeographies, other languages and cultures […] [connectedby] input channels,kinshipnetworks, routes of transit,and formsofattachment.”8 Such scalar,networked structures elaborate asense of world literature’s geographical and temporal breadth—a breadth that implodes into densities, nodal points where thefar (historically old, geographically far) andthe near (thenow, the here) collide to unleashnew patterns of literary history and new protocolsof reading.Thesenodal densities, thestars in world literature’s constellatedliterary history,invite us to explore their intensities, the saturated energies andaffectiveclus- terings where history makes its mark. Nodes, explains David Ciccoricco,are astruc- turing element of any networkeconomy,including aliterary one. Nodes mark the points where textualpathways“loop,”tointroduce another keyterm in cybernetic narrative theory.The interrelated system of nodes and loops describes “networkfiction,” fiction that takes postmodern information networkcultureasits matter and method in forms that include thehypertext, with its multiple embeddedpathwaysand plotlines,and its invitation to thereadertofollow alongthrough recursion,rereading and flashback.9 Goingbackbecomes away of moving forward, with consequencesfor howwecastthe very spatiotemporal fabric of narrative textuality.Network fictiontheory’semphasis on the work of repetition, returnand recombination figured in thestructures of nodes and loops offers aseriesofconceptstotheorizeliterature beyond that of the contemporary informationage. To bring network theory to the temporallyvast domain of world literature is in this sense far more thanmere presentism,the application of the dominant narratives of this moment to theunderstanding of previous ones. Although networksare the favored figure of the now,they are furthermore as oldashuman history.Borrowing from The HumanWeb by historians J. R. andW.McNeil,Van Dijk describesfive “worldwide webs,” beginning with the earliest spread of humans in hunter-gatherertribes and the resultingexchangeofgenes,technologies, and ideas,through theriseoflocalsettle- ments andmetropolitancity-webs around4000BCE, on to theancient empires of India, China, theMediterranean,Mexico andthe Andes, the cosmopolitanwebs of 15th to 19th centuryEuropean colonial modernity,and finally,the global informationalweb of the last century. These fiveworldwidewebs of human history have in commonthe flow and exchange of various materials, whetherorganic,genetic,energetic,technological or informational. In asimilar argument, inspired by therhizomatic model of AThousand Plateaus,ManuelDeLanda’s AThousand Years of Nonlinear History casts networked flows (whether “oflava, […]genes, [linguistic] memes, […] money,[information] […] or other ‘stuff’”) as the very substance of history.10 In De Landa’s thermodynamic model, theflowofenergy into andout of asystem means thatthe system is notinequi-

8 Wai-Chee Dimock, Through Other Continents: American LiteratureAcross Deep Time (Princeton: Princeton UniversityPress, 2006), p. 3. 9 David Ciccoricco, Reading Network Fiction (Tuscaloosa: UniversityofAlabama Press, 2007), p. 31. 10 Manuel De Landa, AThousand Years of NonlinearHistory (Brooklyn: Zone Books,1997),p.260. 106 VilashiniCooppan librium but is rather dynamic, changing, interactingand subject to feedback loops,the external inputsthat then change an internal operation. Language, forexample, is recast in nonlinearterms as “a variablesoup of linguistic (replicating andcatalyzing) materials [which]was constantly intermingling with all theother material andenergetic flows.”11 Linguistic materials are “combinatric,” thatis, composed of semantic units that interact with oneanother andnew units, often brought into thepicture through other flowsof people, culture, andwords in acontext of migration,urbanization,vernacularization, standardization, nationalization,colonization, andsoon. Language,then, is notonlya worldsuffusedwith thepolitics of identity and the affective attachments of belonging, but aDeleuzeanmachinicassemblage in which identity is itself flowing, changing, and perpetually becoming. So, in anotherinfluentialargument, N. Katherine Hayles describes theemergence of “post/human” identity,inwhichthe catalytic binary of presence/absence as theground of beinggives waytopattern/randomness, the latter “boundtogether in acomplex dialectic that makes them not so much opposites as complements or supplements to one another. Each helps to define the other; each contributes to theflow of information throughthe system.”12 Enmeshment then is also anetwork notion and onethatrecasts the most basic units of identity andbeing.Asone consequence of informatics—the network withinwhichbiological,technological,cultural, and social information flows— human bodies and thebodiesofbooks (both“form[s]ofinformation transmission and storage,” [p. 28]) undergo atransformationatthe level of materiality. As information comestovirtual lifeinacircuit of endless replicability(p. 39), and as thecyborg,a human/machine hybrid, comes ever closer to thehorizon of virtualreality technologies, there emerges anew order of being that does notbanishmateriality so much as loop materiality into, andout of, being. In other words, noteverything is presence. This is far fromaclaim for complete disembodimentasaconsequence of network reading. As Hayles puts it: Because they have bodies, books and humans have something to lose if theyare regarded solely as informationalpatterns, namelythe resistantmaterialitythat has traditionallymarked the durableinscription of books no less than it has markedour experiences of livingasembodied creatures(p. 29). To keep hold of both theinformationalpatterns andthe material body,the reader and critic must herself enterafeedbackloopinwhich literature,technology andthose who produceand consumethemboth are understoodindynamic relation.Reading in this fashionfurther entails, as Hayles explains,anew conceptofthe technology of signification,basednot on theone-to-one correspondence of signifier to signified or, as in a

11 De Landa, Nonlinear History,p.211. 12 N. Katherine Hayles, How We Became Posthuman: Virtual BodiesinCybernetics, Literature,and Informatics (Chicago:University of Chicago Press, 1999), p. 25.Inwhat follows Icite Hayles indicating the page number parentheticallyinthe text. Codesfor World Literature: Network Theory andthe FieldImaginary 107 typewriter, keystroke to letter, but rather on asubstratuminwhich significationisalso subject to flow,change, shifting. Glossing JacquesLacan’s concept of “floating signifiers,” in which signifieds become“an ungraspableflow floating beneath anetwork of signifiers, anetworkthatitself is constituted through continual slippages and displacements,” (p. 30) Hayles links informatics to what she calls “flickering signifiers”. Flickering signifiers are “characterizedbytheir tendency toward unexpected metamorphoses, attenuations, anddispersions”(p. 30). As one product of information technologies andthe network imaginary catalyzed by them,Hayles’s flickering signifiers suggest another way to cast the“world” in “world literature.” If “world” has often seemed, or threatened, to carry standardizinguniversalismasits cognate,itcan equally entail aperpetual encounter with localized, particularized, pluralized differences.“World,” Icontend, is anetworknodalnotion: both away to name atotality (the network) andapointoflocation,aplacing or emplotment within thetotality.Toworld literature (I find more possibility in theterm’swork as verb than as noun)istooccupy two places simultaneously, seeing bothfromafar and close up, zooming in andzooming out,looping in andlooping out. If, in additiontoworld,literature, language andiden- tity,othercentral categories of world literature such as history and genre are rethought in networked and nodalwaysthe terrain of world literature begins to assemble itselfas adistinctly posthumanist project. De Landacharacterizes AThousand Years of Nonlinear History as “not […] a chronicleof‘man’ and ‘his’historical achievements,but aphilosophical meditationon the history of matter-energy in its differentformsand of the multiple coexistences and interactionsofthese forms.”13 Substituting“literature” for “man” and “literary form” for “matter-energy,” in the rest of this essay Iexplore the possibility of anonlinear history of worldliterature. Lest this be construed as athoroughly disembodiedproject in whichthe rhizomatic matrix renders everything into structureand dismissescontent, aesthetics, artfulness, affectivity andmoretothe peripheries of criticism, Irepeat that to put thehuman/the literary intoquestion is nottonegatetheir existence butmerely to construe themassomethingless than absolute, universal(or universalizing), and essential.Anetworkedworld literature thus does more thansimplyorientusawayfrom nationallinesand toward globallinkages (the simplest visual shorthand for the mapof world literaturebut also only the surface of its critical method). Network thinking can reanimate eventhe most basic categories of literary criticism.Put differently,there is more than oneway to skinworld literature’s map. In recognitionofthe chargeofchilly, mechanized disembodiment often leveled at network theory and posthumanist philosophy,Ipropose to fleshify world literature’smap, taking flesh as atactilefigure for both the materiality of inscription andthe affective sensorium thatpulses through the written. This work requires notjusttheorizingofthe networkbut somethingtantamount to entry into it;the critic’s owninscription into thesystem she describes in the formof

13 De Landa, NonlinearHistory,pp. 21−22. 108 VilashiniCooppan network reading.Describing thephenomenon Icallnetworkedconnection andthatDe Landa terms“interactionsbetweenparts,” he explains that because each interactionis “morethanthe sum of its individual parts,” a“top-down analytical approach”14 that goes from whole to part will miss the force of the phenomenon, just as amodel that tries merely to addupthe individual components in abottom-upmanner will alsomiss itstarget.Top-down, bottom-up methods alone don’tworkinreadinganetwork because thephenomenon itself is multiple.Extrapolatedtoworldliterature, thetop- downapproach coulddescribe Spivak’sbiting diagnostic of worldliterature as afield seen from themetropolitancritic’s heights,while thebottom-upmethod conjures Moretti’s structuralist histories of theevolution andspreadofliterary forms. Perhapsa networkedreading of worldliteraturecan bring thesetwo together, addressingthe dangers of acritical discourse thatuniversalizes in thenameof“worlding” even as it dares to generate large-scaleor“systematic”models of suchnotions as literature, language,form, and structure. Worldliterature thus becomes an exercise not in critical nomination(it is this, it is that, it includes this, it excludes that)but rather in critical doing,aperformative that begins andends with theworkofreading. Iturn nowtoaminiature compass in the form of anetwork readingofatextnetwork thattracks from the ancient Sumerian Epic of Gilgamesh to the1992posthumanist cyberpunknovel Snow Crash by science fiction culthero Neal Stephenson to the AustralianJoanLondon’s2001 Gilgamesh: ANovel.15 These texts are each other and are not,linkedyet distinct, connected but non-equivalent. Add to their temporal, geographical, linguistic, culturaland generic separations theirdistinctevent horizons⎯the foundationofthe earliest city-state in TheEpicofGilgamesh,globalcapitalist hegemony in Snow Crash,and thelayered histories of settler colonialism, Europe’s Great War and theArmenian massacre of 1915 in Gilgamesh: ANovel,and we have an ideal case study for the practice of network reading. Snow Crash most literallycaptures the networkaesthetic in itsdepictionofaworld thoroughly connected, whether in the “real” world where thecircuitsofglobalfinancecapital link Japanese robberbarons turned yakuza,U.S. Mafia bosses andold-style Texascapitalists, or in the virtual world knownasthe Metaverse to which thenovel’s priestly caste,computer programmers and hackers, retreat in order to live a“second life.” Penetrating at onepoint to thevery heart of the Metaverse in order to recode it,the heroofthe novel,ahacker named Hiro Protagonist, sees thenetwork in itsmostmultiplicitous state: This system,herealizes,really consists of severalseparate networks all tangled together in the samespace. There’s an extremelycomplicated tangleoffinered lines, millions of them,running back andforth between thousandsofsmall red balls […] big bluecubes […] areconnected to eachother,but to nothing else, by massive bluetubes […] theyare allsurroundedbylittle red balls and othersmallnodes, liketrees being overwhelmed with kudzu. It appears to be an older,

14 De Landa, Nonlinear History,p.17. 15 Joan London, Gilgamesh: ANovel (NewYork: Grove Press, 2001). Codesfor World Literature: Network Theory andthe FieldImaginary 109

preexisting network of some kind, with its own internal channels, mostlyprimitive ones like voice phone.16 This visualizationofthe netisastaple of the genre,made most famous by William Gibson’s vision in his 1984 Neuromancer of “the danceofbiz,information interacting, datamade flesh in themazes of the blackmarket.”17 In Gibson’s andStephenson’s images, as throughout cyberpunk, theregistersofthe machine andthe nature,the old and the new, thenodaland thelinked are allinterconnectedand intersectedinacyborg aesthetic. In these worlds, as Hayles pointsout,bodiesdon’t endatthe skin butare instead extended, “jackedin” in Gibson’s phrase to thematrix thatconnects thebody, the brain, andthe computer in order to produce thecyberprotagonist,adatacowboy roamingthe internet,corrallingcodeand chasing down rogues and runaways. This world breeds aparticularspecies of anxietyinwhatHayles describesasapalpable sense of the fragility of the textual corpus,surfacing in concerns about randomness overtaking pattern, renderingaworld structured by code ultimatelyincapable of being decoded; becoming unreadable.18 This, indeed, is the animating story of SnowCrash,inwhich acomputer virus threatens not only the virtual world of the Metaverse but the real world too. If Stephenson’s image of the network seemsadirect reflection of modern informatics, it is equally alooping repetitionofsomething much older. Snow Crash’s raw material drawsfromamuch earlierhuman network, namely the culture of ancient Sumeria and the epochalrise of thebuilt city,the written text andthe network imaginary. The openinglines of the Epic of Gilgamesh,here in BenjaminFoster’s translation,situate us squarely in the material domain of informatics despite their provenance some three andthree-quartersmillennia ago. He sawwhat was secret and revealed what washidden, He broughtbacktidings frombefore the flood, From adistant journey camehome, weary, at peace, Engraved all hishardshipsonamonument of stone, He builtthe wallsoframparted Uruk … Go up, paceout thewalls of Uruk … Onesquaremileofcity, onesquaremile of gardens, Onesquare mile of clay pits, ahalf square mile of Ishtar’s dwelling. Threeand ahalf square milesisthe measure of Uruk! [Search out]the foundation boxofcopper, [Release] itslock of bronze, Raise the lid upon its hiddencontents, Take up and read fromthe lapistablet Of him, Gilgamesh, who underwent many hardships.19

16 NealStephenson, Snow Crash (New York: Bantam, 1992), pp.436–437. 17 William Gibson, Neuromancer (New York: Ace Books, 1984), p. 16. 18 Hayles, HowWeBecamePosthuman,p.43. 19 Benjamin R. Foster, Douglas Frayne,and Gary M. Beckman, TheEpicofGilgamesh:ANew Translation, Analogues,Criticism (New York: Norton, 2001),p.3. 110 VilashiniCooppan Here is theminiatureplotand functionofthe epic,fromthe story of ajourney anda return, to theretrospective legitimation of aruler or dynasty,tothe requisite preoccupation with culture, nature, death, andfate, to such aspects of narrationasthe self- conscious representation of the epic’s own mode of productionand the evocationof literary figuration, whichemerges here against theinsistentenumeration(onesquare mile, three and ahalfsquaremiles) that marked this earliest of network economies, as the ancient city of Urukprocessed grainand oxen from outlyingsettlements.20 Writing mediates both the lines of theepic andits history,ataleofmany journeys, beginning with theruleofKing Gilgamesh at Urukaround 2700 BCE, andproceeding through several centuries of oralversions of thepoem, leading to aversionwrittenaround 2100 BCE for thecourt of kings of Ur, to legitimate their rule. 1700 BCEsaw the most complete “standard” version, compiled by aBabylonian priest in Akkadian, andfor the nextmillenniumarangeofmiddle versions spread over Mesopotamia, Syria, the Levant, andAnatolia,culminatingina“late” version,the longest,around700 BCE. The epicwas rediscovered in 1845,among 25,000clay tablets found at thelibrary of Ashurbanipal in the ancient city of Nineveh. Walter Ongreminds us that the Mesopotamian invention of writingaround 3500 BCE emerged from previous systemsfor recording economic transactions, such as the encasing of small clay tokens of goods such as oxen,inclaycontainers marked with indentations denoting thecontents. In theclaywalls of Gilgamesh’scityand theclay tablets on whichhis epic journey is recorded,writing moves beyondthe levelofliteral signification (say aclay token or apictureofanoxtodenoteanox). There is in these ancientlines apalpable magic to writing:writing conjures things into being. So it is that the divine companionEnkiducreatedbythe gods to tame the wild king Gilgamesh from raping andpillaging his ownsubjects is also made of clay.Writing’s medium, clay,is live,inthe sense that awireislive: it sparksaconnection, acircuit of exchange, an encounter across somegap or chasm.Thisisone waytothink aboutprimary oral epic’s connection to the past, that realm which Ong says“is not felt as an itemized terrain, peppered with verifiable anddisputed‘facts’orbitsofinformation” but is rather “the domain of the ancestors, aresonant sourcefor renewing awareness of presentexistence […].”21 It is notjustorality that speaks with the ancestraldeadbut writing too, perhaps evenmoreso, as Friedrich Kittler hasargued. Kittler in factdismisses Ongfor romanticizing orality over writing: “onlythe Jesuit priestWalter J. Ong, who must have

20 Cf. Chistopher Chase-Dunn, “The Changing Role of Cities in World-Systems,” in:Volker Bornschier andPeter Lengyel, edd., Waves,Formations, and Values in the World System (New Brunswick: Transaction Publishers, 1992), pp. 51−88. 21 Walter J. Ong, Orality andLiteracy: The Technologizing of the Word (London/New York: Routledge, 1982), p. 98. Codesfor World Literature: Network Theory andthe FieldImaginary 111 beenconcerned with thespirit of thePentecostal mystery,couldcelebrateaprimary orality of tribalcultures as opposed to thesecondary orality of our media acoustics.”22 Kittler is well-known forhis exploration, in DiscourseNetworks,of“the network of technologies and institutions that allow agiven culture to select, store,and process relevant data.”23 Kittler’s imaginativearchiving of avastcultural realmofdata storage and transmission technologiesisanimatedbythe insistencethatliterary criticism has something to learn from information systemstheory. Some two decades later, in the 2004AmericanComparative Literature Association’s Reportonthe Stateofthe Discipline,HaunSaussy demurred, defending “literariness” as what secures literatureas “a kind of resistance to information’s charm”24 and criticizing world literature for its abandonment of literariness andall it entails: close reading in theoriginal, specialized knowledge andaconvictionofthe spiritthatliteratureismorethanmere data.The specter of data-ficationhaunts world literature,inspiring the charge that worldliterature essentially forgets howtoread. As SpivakputsitinDeathofaDiscipline’s dismissalof the “Moretti-style comparativist” who convert therest of the world to mere data for an imperialistcritic-subject, “literature is what escapes the system.”25 Kittler’s counter- argument thatliterature is part andparcel of the larger flows of information lays some of thefoundationstones(thenew network theory of scholars such as Hayles and Ciccoricco lays others) for another structuringofwhatthe literary is. Understood as a networkedflow, world literature (and hereIspeak notsomuch of an identifiableobject, the worldtext, so much as of aparticular styleofcognition) is literature that operates within thesystemand that is readable precisely in theterms the systemproduces: node, network, loop,life. The notion of life at stakeinmyemerging accountofworldliterature is enmeshed with,loopedinto, death. Kittler explores thenetworktechnologies of life, death,and writinginGramophone,Film, Typewriter,abookdedicated to thethesisthat“therealm of the deadisasextensive as the storage andtransmission capabilities of agiven culture.”26 Insofar as writing “celebrates thestoragemonopoly of theGod whoinvented it,” Kittler argues, “all booksare books of thedead, like the Egyptian ones with which literature began” (p.7−8). In adigital age, Kittler continues, “ourrealmofthe deadhas withdrawnfrom the books in whichitresided for so long”(p. 10)and now inheres in the

22 FriedrichA.Kittler, Gramophone,Film, Typewriter,trans. GeoffreyWinthrop-Young and Michael Wutz(Stanford: StanfordUniversity Press, 1999),p.6. 23 Friedrich A. Kittler, Discourse Networks 1800 /1900,trans.MichaelMetteer,with Chris Cullens (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1986), p. 369. 24 Haun Saussy, “Exquisite CadaversStitched from Fresh Nightmares: Of Memes,Hives, and Selfish Genes,”in: Haun Saussy,ed., Comparative Literature in an AgeofGlobalization (Baltimore:The Johns Hopkins University Press,2006),pp. 3−42,p.33. 25 Spivak, Death of aDiscipline,p.52. 26 Kittler, Gramophone, Film,Typewriter,p13.Inwhat follows Icite Kittlerindicating the page number parenthetically in the text. 112 VilashiniCooppan sphere that JeffreySconceevocatively calls Haunted Media.27 Kittler’shistory of the ghostly dimensions of modern media traces theparallel evolutionofMorse code andthe Victorian séance, or of the typewriter andthe feminized imprint of arecordinghand, made famous in Bram Stoker’s 1897 Dracula,atale aboutthe vampiric transmission not just of bloodbut of information too. Stephenson’s Snow Crash is alatter day Dracula,adystopianfableabout theviral patterns of information contamination. Just as Stoker’s Dracula turnsthose whom he bites intodoubles of himself, whounconsciously feed on their fellow humans, so the eponymous virus of Snow Crash alters its subjects into monstrous automatons, drugged by amodern day opiate,the heroin-like“snow”whichcan be ingested or uploaded directly into themind from visual contact with an infectedcomputer screen. In Snow Crash,the worlds of Ong andKittler coexistasthe informatics of coding, hacker culture and virtual reality betray their deepstructuralaffinitieswithsuch“Pentecostal” phenomena as avirus, spread by computer code,thatcauses its humanvictimstospeak in atonguethatwill be revealedasancient Sumerian me (ritualized codes for religious behavior, “the operating system of society,”28)all animated by atalismanic incantation or nam-shub that brings life into being throughthe word. Theghostlydimensions of cyberspace areless crucial to Snow Crash thansay to Neuromancer,with its museum sensibility of old art mixed with new netcircuitry,ageneric mutation of Balzaciande- scription andscience fiction conjecture. But if mutation, as Hayles argues, is acentral offshootofinformatics networking, then SnowCrash’s pastiche of cybercultureand sacredtexts, impressionistically rendered Sumerian linguistics andagonzotaleofcode- making andcode-crackinghackerheroes,evinces theghostly work of generic recombination cuttingacross media, moments, andmetaphors. The novelthrives on analogies. Notonlycan thevirtualreality world known as the Metaverse itself “beconsidered asinglevast nam-shub, enacting itself on L. BobRife’s fiber-optic network” (pp. 211−212), but“Christ’s gospelisanew nam-shub,” (p. 401) in itsera. The earlyChristians who spoke in tongues were suffering from a“viral outbreak”ofamuch earlierSumerian goddess cult,a“glossolaliccult.”The virus knownasSnowCrash is an uncannyreturn of that earlier history in the form of a computer virusand biologicalvariantthatuse theuniquelypowerful Sumerian language as their“deep structure”(p. 126). The virusisunleashed by L. Bob Rife, acorporate giant, militaryman, funder of aBible College andoriginatorof“astringofself- supporting religiousfranchises all over theworld”(p. 404). Because “a monopolist’s work is neverdone” (p.114),Rife’s aim is to produce amodern-day “glossolaliccult” whosemembers, Third World stateless workersknown as “Refus,” will mindlessly servehis questfor globalhegemony.FightingRife aretwo indomitable hackers, the

27 JeffreySconce, Haunted Media: Electronic Presencefrom TelegraphytoTelevision (Durham: Duke University Press, 2000). 28 Stephenson, Snow Crash,p.257.Inwhat follows Icite from Snow Crash indicating thepage number parenthetically in the text. Codesfor World Literature: Network Theory andthe FieldImaginary 113 requisiteheroes of cyberpunk, onecalled Hiro Protagonistand the other afeistyyoung Asian American womannicknamed Y. T., aidedbyaBorgesianvirtual librarian,an Asian American Vietnam veteranwho lives pluggedinto avirtualnetworkfromhis wheelchair, andanavuncular Mafia bosswho controls one of thecorporate fiefdoms thathavesupplanted nation-states in thenovel. Together they manage to stopthe virus’ total spreadbyfinding and disseminating avery specialnam-shub created by the Sumerian “hacker god” Enki anddug up in aclay envelope by Rife’sarchaeologistsin the Sumerian cityofEridu.Clay,inSnow Crash as in TheEpic of Gilgamesh,isthe stuff of cities,writing,and divineincarnation: as the virtual librarian tells Hiro,“the ancient Sumerians wrote on everything. When they builtabuilding, they would write in cuneiform on every brick”(p. 216). The persistence of Enki’s nam-shuboverseveral millennia is thanks to what the librariandescribes as a“promiscuousdispersalof information, written on amedium that lasts forever” (p.216). Theinfinite circulationof informationlinks theancient Sumerian world to future infoworlds, just as the metaphoricallinkbetweenthe godEnki andthe hacker heroes establishes another circuit of exchange. Myths andstories aresimilarly looped into one another. Enki’s nam-shub is bothanincantation andarecognizable story concerning auniverseto whose inhabitants the godEnlilgave “onetongue” butwhose peaceEnkidestroyed when he “changedthe speechintheir mouths,put contention into it”(p. 217). Enki’snam-shubwas originally createdasa“countervirus,” disseminatedbythe god alongthe samebrain circuitsasthe viral me (“little programsfor humans”) but designed to cutoff thosewho contracted it fromthe “commondeep structure” of Sumerian language andthe religious andcultural orthodoxies it built(pp. 397–398). Laws, suchas the Code of Hammurabi, replaced thesystem of me or codes written intothe brain, but with less totalizing reach, while religion also carriedonthe effort to penetrate deep structures. As Hiro explains to his anti-monopolist crew in an encomium to the force of Babel/Infocalypse that happily mixes Sumerian andBiblical mythology,neurolin- guistics andhacker semiotics: “Literally it means ‘GateofGod.’ It was the gatethat allowed God to reachthe human race. Babel is agateway in our minds, agateway that wasopenedbythe nam-shub of Enki thatbrokeusfree fromthe metavi[ru]s andgave us theability to think” (p. 398). There-release of Enki’snam-shub or divine counter- viruswill“jamtheir [theRefus] mother-tongue neurons andprevent Rife from pro- graming them with new me”(p. 407). Those Refus, from“thewretched parts of Asia,” were meant to be workers, housed on agiant Raft somewhere on thePacific Ocean. “The media image of the Raft is that it is aplace of utterchaos, where thousands of differentlanguages are spoken andthere is no central authority.But it’s not likethatat all. It’shighlyorganizedand tightlycontrolled. Thesepeopleare all talking to each other in tongues” (p. 404). Rife grafts radioreceivers intoapercentage of cult members’ skulls, broadcasting his instructional me “directly intotheir brainstems” (p. 405) so that they maythen transmittothe rest, with the ultimate goal of producing“aunified armywith coordinatedmarching orders” (p. 408). Rife’s project capitalizes on an old 114 VilashiniCooppan dream,that of acommonlanguage, knowninKabbalistic termsas“the tongue of Eden, the languageofAdam [which]enabled allmen to understand eachother” (p. 278). The “meaninglessbabble” (p.178) of those infected by the Sumerianvirus is thus alinguistic expression of theworldbefore Babel, astateoflinguistic utopiathat thenovel represents as dystopia. Insofar as binary code is also namedbythe novel as “the tongue of Eden” (as opposedtothe “whole Babelofcomputer languages[that] has been createdfor progammers: FORTRAN, BASIC, COBOL, LISP, Pascal, C, PROLOG, FORTH,” [p. 278]), thereduction of master hackerslikeDa5id to ahospitalizedinmate murmuring thefaux Sumerian “e ne em dam gal nun na agiagi eneemumu un abzu ka agiaagi”(p. 189) represents the triumphoflinguistic monopoly (the singularizing universe of theSumerian me)over hackerheteroglossia. Babel,understoodasthe erection of “walls of mutual incomprehension that compartmentalizethe human race andstopthe spread of viruses” (p. 400)may indeed be “the best thingthatever happenedtous” (p. 279), butthe diegeticstory of language’s re-enshriningasaforceof difference is not where the novel’s own mutational, recombinant,viral energies lie. Nor do they resideinthe linguistic strategiesused by Stephenson,which are relatively straightforward, despite asprinklingofcyberpunk attributes like neologismsthat uncannily simulate aknown world of latecapitalism yetpushitjustabit into the future (a “Burbclave” is agatedcommunity in this futureworld). Snow Crash’s admittedly fancifulrendering of ancientSumerian linguistic andreligious culture, apasticheor mashup of “real” facts (Sumer, thebirth of writing, goddess cults, etc.) and fictive ren- derings, offers another version of recombinantenergy.Inthisformal feedbackloopbits of the historicalreal are integrated into theestablished generic codes of cyberpunkin order to create aversion of Sumerian civilization that is bothavirtualprojectionand an alteration: an uncanny encounter with thestructure of history,including literary history. These recombinant energies of Snow Crash return us to the work of networkingthe very categoriesofliterary analysis. Literary “stuff” (to recall De Landa’s terminology for everything that flows)lendsitself to the network model, whetherthe intersecting lines that link individualnational works to oneanother in patterns of what used to be called literary influence, or the recent world-scale models of circulation andinteraction thatgobeyond theauthor-textsystem to reflect on various currencies of flow, including the material histories of publication, translation,adaptation andother instances of literary uptake, as wellasthe ghostly histories of textualresonance andinterconnection thatcomprise what Icall “textnetworks.” Gilgamesh and Snow Crash are two units in justsuchanetwork. To grasp thepattern of theirconnections will require somespec- ulationontheir distinctyet yoked status as particular literary forms, specifically epic andnovel. Codesfor World Literature: Network Theory andthe FieldImaginary 115 Literary genres, holds Tzvetan Todorov, are“systemsinconstanttransformation.”29 Taking this dynamic metaphor at its most literal, we cancastgenre as anetworkable unit. Genre wouldatfirst glance appear to teleologize literary history by codifyingthe vagaries of literary movement (the short starts, thedead-ends) into something like literary progress.But genres actually operateaswellthroughnonlinear processesof interaction, selectionand combination, revealing an essentiallyrecombinant structure. In Wai-Chee Dimock’s descriptioninher openingessay to PMLA’s special issue “RemappingGenre,”genre is virtual,“arunaway reproductive process: offbeat, off- center, and wildly exogenous.”30 She goes on to figure genre notasathing buta process, something sheevocatively terms“regenreing:[…] [or] cumulative reuse, an alluvial process, sedimentary as well as migratory.”31 Genreisnot apoint of origin,still less alaw of reproduction,but something alwaysrunning from,yet routing back through, itself. In this formal feedback loop,eachsuccessiveiteration or, as Jacques Derrida says, “contamination”ofgenre becomes part of the system.Inadditiontothe “stackability,switchability,and scalability” that Dimock deems“the keyattributes of genres when they areseenasvirtual,”32 Iwouldadd theimage of genre as anodal point of historicalcondensation. In genre, certain experiences⎯the feelingofanage,as criticism used to say, or the affective experience of an event-horizon, as ourpost- Derridean,post-Deleuzean, post-Badouianmoment might venture, are set into particular representationalcodes andforms, but notset in stone (or clay). Genre embeds a past, aformalset of codes and/or the historical and social circumstances that accom- paniedthem, effectively “sedimenting,” as FredricJamesonclaims, historicity into form.33 As both aformalizationofhistory and apractice of memory,not to mention as an eminently networkable category understoodinnodal terms, genre carries particular weightinanexploration of world literature. So the coexistence of Sumerian epic and cyberpunknovel, theworldsofclay and of code,comprise adistinctly world literature iterationofnonlinear history.AncientSumeria andcyberpunk dystopiaare not rendered as opposite ends of atemporalspectrumorinformationhighway butrather coexist, intersect andpalimpsestically overlapinafigure resonantwithnetworktheory’s distinctiveunderstandingoftimeand history. The actual Epic of Gilgamesh is mentionedonlyonce in Snow Crash,asanexample of the ways in which “Akkadianredactors went throughthe Sumerian myths, edited out the (to us) bizarreand incomprehensibleparts, andstrungthem togetherintolonger

29 TzvetanTodorov, ThePoetics of Prose,trans.Richard Howard (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1977), p. 15. 30 Wai-Chee Dimock, “Introduction: Genres as Fields of Knowledge,” PMLA 122. 5(2007), pp.1377−1388, p. 1379. 31 Dimock, Genres as Fields of Knowledge,p.1380. 32 Dimock, Genres as Fields of Knowledge,p.1379. 33 Fredric Jameson, ThePolitical Unconscious:Narrative as aSocially Symbolic Act (Ithaca: Cornell University Press,1981),p.141. 116 VilashiniCooppan works, such as the Epic of Gilgamesh.”34 The Akkadians,“cousins of theHebrews,” representcodification of thesortthatdelimits, fixes, cleans up;the equivalent of the later workofthe Deutoronomists, those“Nationalists.Monarchists.Centralists […] whoembodiedthoseattitudesinscripture by rewriting and reorganizing theold tales,” with theultimate goalofmaking Judaism into “an organized, self-propagating entity”(p. 228) virally circulatedthroughthe Torahitself.Situatedinthishistory, The Epic of Gilgamesh does notstandimmured in its age-old status as “the first” of itskind but rather emerges as the momentary product of aseries of practices,from “informationalhygiene”tothe more viral patternings of intertextualwebs (p.230). Snow Crash does notinviteanaccountofintertextuality in some literalsense,measured by the extenttowhich onetextfinds itselfreanimated in another’s plots, personages, figures, andphrases. Rather, the novel figures the materiality of textuality,understood as the management of information,asthe substratum linkingeverything, from epic to novel, frombrain to book, from code to story.Inthispromiscuity of interconnection lies one model forthe kind of reading world literature in thenetworkmode might attempt. In DavidDamrosch’s careful excavation of the19th century rediscovery of the Gilgamesh epicand imaginative reconstruction of the epic’s originalsenseofthe deathworld, areading situatedacross aspanofsomefourand ahalfmillennia, theepic emergesas“adocument of agenuinely ancient humanism,[a] humanism [that] extends beyondhumanity to includethe gods as well.”35 Theepic cannot be read withoutits ancientcontextbut it cannot be separated from its textual life,whetherthe ancient invention of writing and literature thatcoincided withits birth or theseries of recensions, inscriptions,translations, andeventually,rewritings that constitute its textual afterlife. TheEpic of Gilgamesh in this sense is alsoarecombinant text, acompilation of earlier versions that in turnseeds aseriesofmutationslike Snow Crash,London’s Gilgamesh: ANovel,anepisode of thescience fictiontelevisionseries Star Trek: The Next Generation,and others. Dimock alsospeaks to thenotionofGilgamesh’s afterlife in her discussion (basedonBenjamin Foster’s translationand explanation) of the linguistic“archaicisms” and old-fashionedcolloquialisms in the original Akkadianas “testimonies to areceding butstill active, still shadowing past.”36 In Dimock’s phrasing, “the lexicalmap of theepicisamapnot only of space,but also of time.The cumulative life of humankindiscaptured here as alooping bulging, swirling net, featuring both the linguisticnormand its nonstandardvariant.”37

34 Stephenson, Snow Crash,p.252.Inwhat follows Icite from Snow Crash indicating the page number parentheticallyinthe text. 35 DavidDamrosch, What is WorldLiterature? (Princeton: Princeton UniversityPress, 2003), p. 72. For acritique,see GregoryJusdanis, “World Literature: TheUnbearable Lightness of Thinking Globally,” Diaspora: AJournal of TransnationalStudies 12. 1(2003), pp.103−130. 36 Dimock, ThroughOther Continents,p.84. 37 Dimock, Through Other Continents,p.84. Codesfor World Literature: Network Theory andthe FieldImaginary 117 Thomas Greene’s classic reading of Gilgamesh offers another account of theepic’s human scale,lingering on thefinal,tearful, frustration of thehero’s questtofindthe plant of immortality in thewake of his grief over the divinely-decreeddeath of his once wild, now civilizedcompanion Enkidu.Gilgamesh’s grief at Enkidu’s death is evidence for Greene of epic’s “telos of tears” andmoregenerally,ofthe function of “primary epicasagenre[that] is not so much concernedwithheroic achievementinitselfaswith theaffective cost of achievement.”38 By localizing epic’s tears, the pain they signify, and,eventually, the “intuition of vulnerability andlossthatcan make communion in sorrow conceivable”and finally the “ritual of reconciliation,”39 Greeneidentifies not just alocus in epic but an entirenarrative mechanism (what later trauma theory configures as melancholic repetitionormourning’s working-through), and, not leastof all, asaturatedunitofcomparison: “the natural tears of epic.”Weddingaffect, genre andthe historical horizonofprimary epic, situated at the already mournfulmoment evoked in Walter Benjamin’s vision of theprimordial community of storytelling lost to theworld of novel reading,40 Greene’s model gives us amodel for comparison. However, theindividual terms of affect, genreand history are in too stableaformation, toosteadyastate,tocapture the kind of tectonic shifts that Ihaveearlierevokedand thatreturnagain in the Gilgamesh text network’s constellationofprimordial violence by thehands of gods andkings, states andcapitalist corporations. Some of this violence is epic,someisnovelistic,someoccasions tears, somepostcolonial melancholia,some the manneredmovements of postmodern metafiction. Stephenson’s Snow Crash transposes ancient Sumeria into late capitalist post- modernity,positing an ancient tongue as the agent of acontemporary brainwashing virus, spread through computer code where it is uploaded directly intohacker’s minds, ingestedinthe form of drugs,and generally analogized to religious myth itself: the storythatstarts everything and ends everything: infocalypse (apocalypse prefacedby information). Thisisatrocityofakind, theend of theworld, butrendered in the peculiarly bloodless style of cyberpunk in whichitisnot bodies we see butviral patterns of information contamination;aplague of words, memes, genes whose internal heterogeneity turnshegemonic in thehands of corporatecapitalist rule.Theseare not at allnatural affects, in Greene’ssense of natural tears, butinfact theiropposite. The horizon of the humanisvery far in this cyberpunk, cybernetic, cyborg focusedtext, as rhizomatic in its energies as Borges’libraryorEco’s labyrinthorDeleuze’smaps.And yet, there is an affect to thistext, andnot just thedeadpan,worldweary ennui or punk resistance associatedwiththe mode. Thereissomething of loss and longing toothat

38 Thomas Greene, “The Natural Tears of Epic,” in: MargaretBeissinger, Jane Tylus, andSusanne Wofford, edd., Epic Traditions in the Contemporary World: ThePoetics of Community (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1999), pp.189−202, pp.192−193. 39 Greene, Tears of Epic,p.196. 40 Walter Benjamin, “The Storyteller,”in: Illuminations: Essays andReflections,trans.HarryZohn, ed.Hannah Arendt (New York: Schocken Books, 1969), pp.83−109. 118 VilashiniCooppan emerges, not in acharacter’s feeling or aplotlineoranarrative mechanism of melancholia or mourning, butratherinthe networkedrelation of onetexttoanother, seeking theimpossible yetactually happening connectionofcommunication,translation and transmission,ifonly partially, across somegap. In yetanother nodeinthe Gilgamesh text network, Joan London’s Gilgamesh: A Novel,agroup of itinerants find their waytoone anotherand fromAustralia to England to Armenia andbackhomeagain,via TheEpicofGilgamesh.For the characters, Armenian refugees in ruralAustralia andwhite Australians trapped in acolonial Manicheanworld notoftheir making, the reading of theepic constitutes bothalove storyand alesson. It serves as aconduit betweeninheritors andanaffectiveblueprint notsomuchfor how to feel in grief,asifGilgamesh’s tears could find their inheritoror parallelinanother epic hero,but rather for the always displaced experience of grief, which never has(or had) its object.Turning itsepicherointoaheroine, whowanders theworld in search of her lost love, childintow,absentdivine aids andengulfed in a longing anddisappointment so palpableinthe prose that it sears, Gilgamesh:ANovel is farmorethan an instanceofthe novelizationofepic, afall from belief intothe nihilism enjoinedbymodernity (recall Lukacs’s definitionofthe novelasthe epic of aworld abandonedbyGod). Iprefertoreaditasaninstanceofthe recombinant,mutational practices of both genre andaffect, in which both categories play off oneanother’s enfolding andembedding of traces and held sensations.The reading of thenovel turns lessonfinding direct correlatives to theepic’scharacters, plot turns and even textual fragments (thelatter directly quoted in thenovel), than on understanding The Epic of Gilgamesh as an intermittent, spectral or flickeringpresence within thenetworked narrativeofGilgamesh: ANovel.Thisversionoftextualresonance exceeds thecate- gories of one-to-onecorrespondence, like the flickering signifier Hayles takes as the hallmark of informatics, andurges us insteadtoconsider the world-making work of processes of displacement,mutation and recombination.Toread this epicinrelationto this novelisnot to searchfor equivalences buttoaccess,perhaps through thevery categories of genre andaffect, the spaces of difference. Finally,let me return to theoriginal Epic of Gilgamesh in which the emergence of epicvoices itself is already haunted by the past, looking backtothe prior emergence of writing andbuilt culture as parallel formsofculturalinscription. Measure outthe walls of the city and read the clay tablet on whichthe hero Gilgamesh engravedhis story,the opening andclosing lines repeatedly enjoin,asiftocircumscribe the humaninthese linked technologies. Ihavetried to suggest howthissametext opens to athinkingof posthumanhistory too, boththe nonlinear patterns of ahistory thattraces connections and recombinations andaccumulations of stuff, includingliterary stuff, andaninhuman history,the story of foundational violence,death andgrief. Thinkingabout connectivity and networksbrings us to inhumanhistories. Consider the status of ancient Uruk as a central node in oneofthe earliest networksystems,orthe network system of its many recensions, translations anddiscoveries,all theway to aperformance on thebanks of Codesfor World Literature: Network Theory andthe FieldImaginary 119 the Tigris during thelast waronIraq andthe destruction of many cuneiform tablets in thebombing of the library of Baghdad in thesecondwar. Networks argue for anew mappingofworld literature that is both structural in the sense of thetechnologiesofcommunication (writing, genre, print,virtuality,haptic media) that make up world literary formsand practices, and in thesense of the affective experiences of these media, aworld literaturesensorium. As with any rhizomaticspace, themodel is not oneofanundifferentiated, free-flowing, indeterminateaffect.“Affect itself” is atermIwould expectthe newworld literaturetheorytohaveaslittletimefor as literature itself. Insteadaffect begs to be read, like genre, as anetworkable category. The recombinant nature of genre andaffect, those networked categories of preserved traces and spectral presences that remain evenastheyare recombined, coupled with what we mightcast as akind of networkedmemorysubject to repetitivereturns and reiterations, areconceptsthathelptomap worldliteraturedifferently.Specifically,they bring us closer notmerely to explainingbut indeed to sensingthe tectonic shiftsof displacement thatcreate surprisingcloseness betweenhistorical event-horizons distant in space and/or time. The later histories of London’s World War I-torn Europe and Stephenson’s dystoptian-apocalypticcyberpunk U.S. are simultaneously nodallydense and networkedordispersed, at oncesaturatedwith their“own” time yetslipping,with allegoricalease, into other times(likethatofancientSumeria,the time of Gilgamesh). What’s calledfor in response to this slippery,shifting terrain is areadingmethod whose very categories are networked or entangled, eachcategory entailingadistinctive mo- dality of spaceand time thattracks, like stars across adistant sky, aset of independent movements alongsidealarger interconnectivity.Ifthisvision conjuresthe universe,it also threatens the universal:the danger of crafting apoint of view fromwhich allof eventhorizons or indeedall literatures look the same. In thinking abouthow to compare my three texts,Ihavebeen conscious of thedangers of evening outmyterrain and of navigating its divergences solely by thelight of some criticalNorth Star, say the concept-metaphor of thenetwork. My hope, in thepathIhave charted here, is to keep finding categoriesfor world literature comparison that arenot ever-fixed points, as Shakespearetermed thestars, butspheres (and lines) in motion.

C. RAJENDRAN The Actual and the Imagined:Perspectives and ApproachesinIndian Classical Poetics

It is well knownthatmodern literary discourses basetheir various classifications of the literary genre largely on fact and fiction. It also goes without sayingthatthese twocate- gories are often used in diametrically oppositesenses. Thus M. H. Abramsdefines fiction in its inclusive sense as “any narrativewhich is feigned or invented rather than historically or factually true.”1 In anarrower senseitdenotes prose narratives including the noveland the shortstory,asany norm in library classificationwillmake it clear to us, butepistemologically,weare here concernedwith the broader sense. On theother hand,non-fiction is theform of any discourse or othercommunicative work “whose as- sertions anddescriptions areunderstood to be factual,” rather than imaginary.2 It may include anythingfrom newsreports of actual events to scientificdiscourses following vigorousmethodology.Itisanother matter thatthere is no guarantee that suchpre- sentation in non-fiction is accurate. It cangiveeither atrue or afalse account of the subject in question. However, the labeling of non-fictionitself seemstowarrant that the authorial voiceofsuch accounts believe them to be truthful at thetimeoftheir com- position or, at least,assumetotheir purported audiencethe narratives as historicallyor empirically true. We tend to assumethatthe distinctionbetweenfictionand non-fiction is universal; but before that,itwillbetempting to askifsuch adichotomyexistsin unchartered literary cultures, especially in theliterary practices of pre-modern traditions, which do notcomeunder thepurview of enlightenment rationality.Infact,such an inquirywill be extremelyinteresting in the presentpost-modern climate, which offers challengestothe assumptions characterizingmodernity andits world view.Itis hoped that such an exercise maybehelpful in understanding thebasicepistemological assumptions andthe cultural specificity of the notion itself. The present paper, accordingly,isanattempt to explorehow the distinctionbetween fiction and non-fiction surfaces in theIndian literary tradition in itsprecepts andpractices.Atthe outset, aclarification maybenecessary for the useofthe word “actual” occurring in thetitle.Itseems to suggestthe assumption of adiscourse capturing reality as contrasted with products of imagination, which is extremely problematic in thecontemporary post-modernist scenario. As is well known, no such claim of reality canbe

1 M. H. Abrams, AGlossaryofLiteraryTerms (Madras: Macmillan, 1988), p. 59. 2 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Non-fiction (retrieved June 21,2013). 122 C. Rajendran entertainedofany text, as inevitably texts are caughtinthe weboftheir owntextuality. Without contestingthis perspective, it has to be pointed outthat such provisionaldis- tinctions are made and have to be made to comprehendthe multitude of literary discourses and to articulateabout them.One is reminded of theratherunenviablepre- dicament of the absolutistphilosophy of Sankara, who evenwhen assertingthe provi- sionalityofthe perceived world nevertheless continues to treat it as real for allpractical purposes.3 Be it as it may, when we concede that there are degrees of feigned approx- imation to objective reality in the worldofletters, thedistinction between fact andfic- tionassumes some importance. Plato, in The Republic refers to “an ancient quarrel betweenpoetryand philosophy”4 andfavored thelatter for its allegedtruth claims. This enthusiastic enthronement of philosophy as the pinnacleofgloryinthe worldofknow- ledge resultedinhis projection of thephilosopher king as theideal ruler of theworld and even nowpersists in academic conventions like the nomenclatureofthe highest degreeoflearningasdoctorate of philosophy,even in subjectslikethe arts and the sciences. Literary art is notsupposedtomakeany truthclaim in the manner of scientific andphilosophical discourses. Kenneth K. Ruthven points outthatthe literary activities of imaginativewriters were sanctionedunder what came to be knownas“‘poetic license,’” “a carte blanche whichdisemburdens theprofessional tale-teller of that fidelity to theway things are(or were) which characterises thehistorian.”5 Classical Indiahad avery rich literary heritage, comprising epic, court andlyrical poetry,historical poetry,drama,prose romance, historical romance,prose-poetry hybrid narratives called campu literature,stray verses,scientificdiscourses and religious poetry.Indiantradition uses thegenericterm kavya to designate literature, whether metrical or prose. Kavya is distinguishedfromthe vedas (scriptural literature), itihasas (epics consistingofthe Ramayana and the Mahabharata)and puranas (metrical narratives of theological legends). In somereckonings,epics are alsoregardedaskavya and Ramayana,the smaller epicisinfactlauded as adikavya,the first poem.Indian poeticians usethe word kavya,whichmeans poetry to designatebothmetrical and non- metrical compositions encompassing creative literature. Metre as such hasneverbeen regarded as ahallmark of kavya since prose compositions are alsoregardedaskavya and metrical compositions arenot uncommoninshastra tradition. At the outset, it maybepointed outthat poeticians have notmade any serious attempt to distinguish betweenfictionand non-fiction.Theirattempt hasbeentotakestockof this multitudinousliterary outputbysuggesting various normstoclassify them into literary genre. There is no lackofattemptstodefine each category, sometimes very rigidly.Thus, there has been aconsistentattempt to distinguish between kavya and discourses related to scienceorknowledge systems(shastra). Bhamaha, (7th century), one of theearly poeticians, contrasts thespontaneity of the creativeprocess,which is

3 Sheldon Pollockrefers to the argument that anything can be literature and calls such claims “unhistorical essentialisations.” Cf. SheldonPollock, The Language of theGods in the World of Men:Sanskrit,Culture, and Power in Premodern India (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2006), pp.6–7. 4 Plato, The Republic,trans. C. D. C. Reeve (Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing, 2004), Book X, p. 311. 5 Kenneth K. Ruthven, CriticalAssumptions (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1979), p. 165. Perspectives andApproaches in Indian ClassicalPoetics 123 the mainspringofpoetry,with therather uninspiring plain natureofknowledge systems, which couldbemastered even by adull-witted person. Here, he is actually contrasting apoetwithascholar on thebasis of theunexpected spontaneity of the creativeprocess, which is the hallmark of the former, whichisabsentinthe latter. But Bhamaha herespeaks only aboutthe mastering of scientificdiscourses andnot about thecreation of them as such. Hadheimaginedthatcomposition of a shastra is a handiworkofadull-witted person, he would have found it difficult to explainthe stories of thegenesisofvarious shastras,which are as inspiring as thestories of theoriginof kavya literature. To cite afew, we can take the story related to the discourse on theatrical art (natya)and grammar (vyakarana). It is maintained in Natyashastra,the first authentic work on theatrical art, that the art was createdbyLord Brahman through ameditative processinwhich he combined elements fromall thefour Vedas andfashionedthe fifth onecalled natya.There is alsoastory mentioned in the Kathasaritsagara of Somadeva that thenearlyfour thousandrules on Sanskritdrama were composed by Panini, the great grammarian of India, when blessedbyLordSiva, whosounded his drum fourteen times to create the aphorismsdescribing thealphabetofSanskrit.6 While asserting thenecessity of creative literature,later poeticians like Rudrata singleout therelative lackofaestheticappeal of scientific discourses, which are, according to him,unattractive to people of refinedsensibilities. Bhattanayaka, amedieval aesthetician differentiates kavya fromother discourses on thebasis of the relative im- portanceofthe constituent elements of each discourse. Thus, shastra hasanunalterable sequenceofwords in it andishence word-oriented(sabdapradhana). He hadinmind thescripturalliterature consistingofVedas,whichwere supposedtopossess mystic powers in their word structure and were thereforetobepreserved exactly in thesame manner as theoriginal seers had visualizedthem. On the otherhand, in epics and similar discourses (akhyana), the meaning ratherthanthe words are more important. Bhattanayakaseems to havebelieved that in thevast bulk of epic/puranic narratives, the formal beauty andliterarymeritwere largely sidelined and thecontent was regarded as the importantelement. Bhattanayaka hadapeculiar notionofliterature: the processis here more important than theproduct.Thus in poetry,boththe word andmeaningare subordinate to theprocess (vyapara), whichculminates in theaesthetic experience, constituting the dominantelement of the whole discourse. The aesthetic qualityofkavya is oftenprojected by poeticiansintheirattempt to dis- tinguishcreativeliteraturefromscientific discourses. Kuntaka, for example, maintains that mastering knowledge systems is atedious task. Most of the shastras,according to him, are characterized by an unattractive style, which is neither pleasingtothe ear, nor easy to utter, nor easy to comprehend and hence they provide great pain at the timeof their study.7 On the other hand, kavya is characterized by an essentially delightful design (paripativinyasa)and in asense,superior to other discourses. Yetsomeotherpoeticians try to differentiate thefictive world of literature fromother discoursesonthe basis of the faculty involved in its production.Accordingly, Bhatta

6 Saroja Bhate, Panini (New Delhi: SahityaAkademi, 2002), p. 1. 7 RajanakaKuntaka, Vakroktijivita [ca. 11th century], crit.ed. withvariants, introd. and Engl. trans. K. Krishnamoorthy (Dharwad: Karnatak University,1977),p.15. 124 C. Rajendran Tauta regards kavya and shastra as two different paths of the goddess of speech. While the former is based on the creative intuition called pratibha,the latter is basedonintellect called prajna.Hedefines pratibha as thefacultywhich creates ever new forms (prajna navanavonmesasalini pratibha mata).8 Abhinavagupta defines pratibha as that facultyof the mind which is capable of original creation (apurvavastunirmanaksamaprajna).9 Anandavardhanaalso differentiatesbetween intellect and imagination, whichare the respective faculties of thephilosopher/scientist andthe poet. He statesthat in the world of poetry,the poet is thesole creator and theworld is transformed according to his wishes.10 Mammata maintains thatthisworld of poesy is notbound by therules of the destiny andindependent.11 This reminds oneofthe heterocosmic ideals as propounded by aestheticians likeBaumgarten,who speaks aboutthe inner world of books whichisa sort of universe by itself. However, Sanskrit poeticians differ from Western promul- gatorsofheterocosmic ideals in thattheyare not preparedtogotothe extent of insulatingthe poetic worldfromthe real world. Even while they assert the validity and autonomy of the worldoffiction, they havetaken great pains to show that it is the material taken fromthe real life fromwhich the art world is fashioned. Bharata asserts that theplayisanimitationofthe waysofthe world(lokavrttanukarana)12 and rules of the world are absolute guidelines for the playwright. Anandavardhana, in his Dhvanyaloka,points outthatpropriety (aucitya)isthe most important considerationto be adhered to by thepoet.13 Propriety,inhis concept is notmere innercoherence,but also theconformity with the accepted normsofthe world. Credibility is an important criterion to be followed in thedescriptions.Anandavardhanapointsout thatdescription of supernaturalfeatslikethe crossingofthe oceaninrespectofordinary humanbeings will be tasteless. The question of thecredibility of theimagined universe is takenupby aestheticians likeAbhinavaguptawhen discussing theaestheticresponseand its obstacles. How, for example,can we “believe” in the things depictedinaplay?According to Abhinavagupta, “ifone considers the things presented [on stage] as lacking in verisimilitude, he cannot obviously immerse (vinivis)his consciousnessinthem,sothat no rest—norest, Isay,inthem—cantakeplace.”14 In the case of ordinary objects, there is no problem in countering this “obstacle,” as thespectator’s heartisdrawn to the

8 Quoted by T. N. Sreekantaiya,“Imagination in Indian Poetics,” in:Raghavan andNagendra, ed., An Introduction to Indian Poetics (Bombay:Macmillan, 1970), pp.61–74,p.60. 9 Anandavardhana, Dhvanyaloka,with Locana and Balapriya Commentaries,ed. PattabhiramaSastri (Benares:Chaukhamba Sanskrit Series Office, 1940), p. 29. 10 Anandavardhana, Dhvanyaloka,ed. with Engl. trans. K. Krishnamoorthy (Delhi: Motilal Bamarsidass, 1982), p. 498. Cf. J. L. Masson andM.V.Patwardhan, Santarasa and Abhinavagupta’s Philosophy of Aesthetics (Poona: BhandarkarOriental Research Institute, 1969), p. 12. 11 Mammata, Kavyaprakasa,ed. R. Harihara Sastri (Trivandrum: Superintendent Gov. Press, 1926), chap. I, v. 1. 12 Bharata, Natyashastra. With theCommentary Abhinavabharati by Abhinava Guptacharya,ed. with introd. and comm. Madhusudani and Balakreeda by Madhusudan Shastri. 3vols. (Varanasi: BanarasHindu University,1971–1981), vol. 1, chap.I,v.112 13 Anandavardhana, Dhvanyaloka,p.330. 14 RanieroGnoli,ed., The Aesthetic Experience According to Abhinvagupta (Varanasi: Chowkhamba Sanskrit Series Office, 1985),p.63. Perspectives andApproaches in Indian ClassicalPoetics 125 described objects to spurimaginative identification with it,but in thecaseof supernatural events, “itisnecessary to choosepersonageswhose names are famous, like Ramaetc., whomake us givebelief to their undertakings.” He further maintains that this belief is deeplyrooted in ourselvesonthe basisofthe uninterruptedfamesuch characters have enjoyed“since antiquity.”15 Agreeing that the poetsdotakeliberty with “reality,” poeticians have graciouslygiven them license to do so. Theromantics of theWest have seldomhidden their disdain for the realthingsofthe world,and the dull brain chains one’s imaginative facultyfromsoaring high in theromanticfirmament. Often, acounter realityisprojected as aresistance to the one-sidedness of the real world. The role of the poet’s imagination to alter realityhas long been recognized in Indian poetics also, as in the romanticconcept. Lucian maintained that poetry, in contrast with history, enjoys unqualified freedombecause “‘itssole law is the poet’s will.’”16 In asimilar vein, Anandavardhana declares that in the world of poesy,the poet is the paramount lord andthe world is transformedaccording to hislikes. He points out that “a good poet will freely design even insentient objects to actassentient and sentient objectsasinsentient ones.”17 Creepers and rivers and mountains and trees all assume sentientnature in Sanskrit literature and act like humanbeings. To cite an example, all the rivers described in Kalidasa’s Meghasandesa cease to be insentient streams of water and become beautiful women eager to enjoy amoroussports with their loverinthe form of thecloud.Anandavardhanaalsogives freedom to poets to imaginativelymake anymodification to awell known plot to suit their aesthetic requirements.Thisperspectiveisreflected in Mammata, who avers that the artifact of poet is devoid of anyrestrictions of the natural world order. Kuntaka, who maintains that a certain obliquity of expressionatdifferent levels is the hallmark of all literature, insists that literature always contains something more than mere factual descriptions. There are twomethodsavailable to the poet: one is to follow nature and describe things exactly as they are; theother is to throwcaution to thewinds and create aworld of one’s own. The former is aesthetically unappealing.The latter will be far removed fromtruth. Therefore he professes ajudiciousblending of the two.18 Despite allthis, thedifference betweenfiction andnon-fictiondoesnot prominently surface in suchattemptsfor differentiation of kavya and shastra.Wecannot thus assert that kavya is pure fictionorshastra non-fiction. Thereasons are not far to seek. It is very difficulttoseparatefact from fiction in Sanskritliterature, whichrevels in a discourse stretchingfromthe supernatural realm to thereal world,the boundariesof which are notdemarcated. We do notknow,for example, whetherthe characters in epics like Ramayana and Mahabharata were real historical figures or products of imagination.The epics depict uninhibitedlypurelyfictitious events like going to heaven and crossingthe oceanwiththe same degree of seriousness with whichtheydepict facts of actual history. But Indian traditionalreadingseems to takethemnot as invented or imaginedstories. Imagined stories are regarded as adifferentspecies altogether. In their

15 Gnoli, The AestheticExperience,p.63. 16 QuotedbyRuthven, CriticalAssumptions,p.165. 17 Krishnamoorthy, Dhvanyaloka,p.251. 18 Cf.C.Rajendran, Kuntaka (New Delhi: SahityaAcademi, 2011),pp. 4–5. 126 C. Rajendran case, consisting of fairy tales andfables like the Pancatantra and Kathasaritsagara, their fictionalityistaken for granted.But theepiccharacters have livedinthe collective memory of Indians as real human, semi-divineand divinebeings. However, even the epics do nottakeustoafantastic realm totally cutoff from reality,since they have alot of realistic elements in them.For example,the descriptions of most of the locations of the storiesare geographically verifiable. Many pilgrim centers of latertimes are in fact the locations of events describedinepics. Even archeological excavations havebeen conductedtoverify their geographical background, sometimes with remarkable success, even though folklore related to almost every part of thevast Indian subcontinentmakes locational claimswith regard to events depicted in epics. Probably this pluralistic nature of mixing fancy with facts maybethe reasonfor the ambivalenceinthe attitude of poeticians towards theepics. Especially in thecase of the Mahabharata,ithas beentreatedasashastra rather than a kavya.The Mahabharata contains alot of material related to ethical andreligious teaching and hence hasthe status of amoral scripture.Itiseven regardedasanauthority in settling ethical and moral issues. Its significanceasamanual of social,moral and legal conduct has been honoured till dateevenbylegal courts, nottospeakofthe lawgivers of the contemporary society addressed by it. The Bhagavadgita,whichconstitutes apart of the Mahabharata,has acquired the status of even aphilosophical poem,and commentators whohavetriedtoexplicate its meaningrarely approach it as apoem.Itisnot accidental that duringIndia’s national strugglefor independence, many leaders,including Tilak andMahatmaGandhi, found it spiritually invigorating to write commentaries on Gita.It is doubtfulwhether they entertained thepossibility that theworks commented on by them is apart of afictive story stemming fromimagination. Probably accommodating thismulti-layer significanceofthe text, Anandavardhana, who discussesthe deeper significanceofthe epic, avers that it has the image of both apoem andascientific discourse and he does notapparently find anycontradictioninthis. He maintains that it can be read both as apoemand an ethical treatise. As apoem,itisdesignedinsuch a wayastosuggest themeaninglessnessofthe mundane existence andarouse theaesthetic state of serenity (santarasa). Whilewhenone reads it as atreatise, it leads one to the final emancipation. Here it is important to note thatthe down to earth facts andsuper- natural and fictive elements are treatedwith the samedegree of seriousness andno hierarchy is suggestedbythe critics in theircomparativeevaluation. It is allthe more difficulttodistinguishbetweenfactand fiction in theclassical poetry of latertimes. We know that when DanBrown claims that alldescriptions of art- work,architecture, documents andsecretrituals in The Da VinciCode are accurate, the Church authorities at St. Sulpice have to putonadisclaimersince it becomes extremely difficult for an ordinary reader to reconcile to thefactthatthe whole stuff, despite its reassuringlydefinitegeographical background, is justfiction. Aestheticians have pointed outthatthe verification of validity of the things describedinthe aestheticworld is ridiculous.19 In Meghasandesa,the message poem of Kalidasa,which depicts the flight of imagination of themythical hero, calledYaksa,mostofthe places supposedto

19 Cf.Anandavardhana, Dhvanyaloka,p.455; cf.Mahimabhatta, Vyaktiviveka,ed. Rewaprasada Dwivedi (Varanasi: Chowkhambha SanskritSansthan, 1982), p. 78. Perspectives andApproaches in Indian ClassicalPoetics 127 be covered by the cloudinits journey, undertaken to deliver themessage of thehapless hero to theheroine, are real andtheir descriptions accurate. The Meghasandesa and much of the “message poetry” of early and medievaltimes can in fact be readastourist guides also,asthey are replete with accurate descriptions of cities, temples, mountains, pathways, rivers, pilgrim centers andflora and fauna characteristicofthe locations. But at leastinsomepoems like the Meghasandesa,geography graduallymerges into the realm of fantasy as the narrationprogresses, leaving no clue to thereaderastowhen the fact is replaced by fiction. Conversely,inhistorical poems like the Rajatarangini and Musakavamsa and historical romances like Banabhatta’s Harshacarita,the storydepicted of the genesis of the lineage of kings is supernatural, but the descriptions of contemporary eventsseem to be historically true. It is of course truethatifweexamine ahistorical romance like the HarshacaritaofBanabhatta,wecan seethatthe fictiveand thefactual levels of the narrative are actually separatedbythe poet. Thus, the purely fictitious part of the narration,which traces theoriginofthe author’sfamilyfromthe heavenlyabode, is prefaced with the words: “Itisheard thus”(evamanusruyate).20 Butthe actual exploits of King Harsa,who wasacontemporary of theauthor, are later narrated by theauthor himself, and not much supernatural element is included in thenarration. The same perspective occurs in other historical works also, as in Musakavamsa and Rajatarangini wherein thedescriptionsrelatedtothe more contemporary historicalfigures are more realistic thanthoserelatedtothe distant past,which are shrouded in myths and hearsay.21 Musakavamsa of poetAtula begins with theaccount of apregnant queen, guarded by herfamily priest,escaping thewrath of SageJamadagnyaRama, reaching a mountaininNorthKerala. She is attackedbyahuge rat, whichisconsumed to flames, emitted from her eyes and transformed into theform of the Kingofthe mountain. It is from the childdelivered by the queenthatanewroyal lineage begins in thenorthern part of Keralacalled Musakavamsa.InRajatarangini,ofKalhana,which is oneofthe most trustworthy historical poemsproducedinIndia,facts are intermingled with supernatural stories like theinterventionofgodsinthe affairs of themundaneworld. It is interestingthatMahimabhatta, theliterary theoreticianofthe twelfth century suggests that evenimaginative literature can be regardedasashastra.Hedoes notcare to define a shastra,but it appears that he gives any discourse thestatusofashastra if it is capable of moral instruction.22 Kavya also, like shastras,convincepeopleofthe necessity of doing proper things andavoiding improper things. While shastras do the instruction directly, kavya generates aesthetic experienceand thus attracts people to it whoare averse to tedious studies and, likeasugar coatedmedicine,effects amoral transformationinthe reader. For poetryprojects thestory of ideal heroes and evil characters and thusconvincesthe readers of the moral superiority of the formerover the

20 HarshacaritaofBanabhatta,ed. with an introd.and notes by Mahamahopadhyaya P. V. Kane (Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 1997), p. 2. 21 E. Sreedharan, ATextbookofHistoriography, 500 B.C. to A.D. 2000 (New Delhi: Orient Longman, 2004),pp. 325–337. 22 C. Rajendran, “Mahimabhatta’s ConceptofPoetryasaSastra,” in: C. Rajendran, Sign and Structure: Indological Essays (Kerala: University of Calicut, 2001), pp.46–52. 128 C. Rajendran latter. Theerudition kavya provides at apurely factuallevelisinnoway inferior to that gainedthroughthe mastery of shastras.Mahimabhatta’s explanation becomes all the more significant in light of theprestige classicalpoetryenjoyed in Indian tradition. Most of the kavya literature showshow erudite their authors are in variousdisciplines like grammar,logic, medicine, philosophy, legal literature, polity and scientific discourses. In fact, Sanskrit kavya literature is the source of accurate knowledgeconcerning the disciplines, which they have to deal with,and any lapse on the part of the poet in erudition was censured severely. In works like the Pancatantra,there is even the explicit claimthat thestories told by Visnusarman, the Brahmin preceptor are meant to teach the young stupid princes of the city of Pataliputralessons in polityand worldlywisdom. It is, therefore,not surprisingthatancient Indianpoeticians gave utmostimportance to erudition in themaking of apoet. TheMahabharata makes an oftquotedencyclo- pedicclaim that whatever is relatedtothe ultimate aimsoflife, available elsewhere viz ethics (dharma), power (artha), sensuous pleasure (kama)and spiritualrelease(moksa) are contained in the work, andthatwhateverisnot foundinthe text is notfound elsewhere.According to Natyashastra,asinterpretedbyAbhinavagupta,there is no philo- sophicalknowledge(jnana), no craft (silpa), no branchofknowledge (vidya), no art (kala), no combination (yoga)and no activity (karma), whichisnot present in the theatrical art.23 The sameidea recurs even in Bhamaha, whovalues poetry over and above knowledge systems.24 Vamana lists anumber of disciplines in which apoetis supposedtobeascholar whichinclude grammar, lexicon, metrical science, fine arts, eroticsand theadministration of force(dandaniti). It mayberecalledthatasimilar con- ceptrecurs in Western literary tradition also, whichmakes erudition the“‘hall mark of excellence.’” According to Gabriel Harvey, poets should be,apart frombeing exquisite artists, “‘curious, universal scholars too.’”25 Dryden says: “A manshould be learnedin severalsciences, andshouldhave areasonable, philosophical,and in some measures a mathematical head, to be acomplete and excellent poet.”26 Coleridge,listing the prerequisites of an epic poet, maintains thatheshouldbe“atolerableMathematician, [and] thoroughlyknowMechanics,Hydrostatics, Optics and Astronomy,Botany,Met- allurgy, Fossilism,Chemistry,Geology,Anatomy, Medicine […]—then theminds of men—inall Travels, Voyages and Histories.”27 Conversely,itissignificant thatthe sameblurring of distinction between facts and fiction occurs in the shastra discourses also. Whilesomedowntoearth treatises like the Arthashastra of Kautilya retainavery rational perspective, thesamecannotbesaidof many other treatises. Works likethe Natyashastra or Kavyamimamsa,works respec-

23 Bharata, Natyashastra,vol. 1, chap. I.,v.116. 24 Bhamaha, Kavyalankara,ed. andtrans. P. V. NaganathaSastri (Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 1970), chap.V,v.4. 25 Quoted by Ruthven, CriticalAssumptions,p.35. 26 John Dryden, TheWorks of JohnDryden: Now First Collected in Eighteen Volumes,illust. with notes, hist., crit., and expl.,and alifeofthe author by Walter Scott. 18 vols.(London: Miller,1808),vol.15, p. 411. 27 SamuelTaylorColeridge, Collected LettersofSamuel Taylor Coleridge,ed. Leslie Griggs,6vols. (Oxford: ClarendonPress,1966),vol. 1, pp.320–321. Perspectives andApproaches in Indian ClassicalPoetics 129 tively on dramaturgy andpoetics,can be citedasexamples. Natyashastra,asascientific treatise gives cogentinstructions in everything relatedtothe performance of drama. But it begins with amythical accountofthe origin of thetheatricalart (natya)whichit traces to Lord Brahma. Kavyamimamsa,similarly is amine of valuable informationfor anyaspiring poet and itshistoricalvaluealso is great.But it alsohas amythical account to narratewithregard to theoriginofpoetry,assymbolized by the Kavyapurusa,the poetic being.28 Such instances can be multiplied, citingworks in other discourses as well,whichalsofreelymix factswith fiction. Butthisdoes notbelittle theempirical value or the scientificbackground of theprescriptions in thetexts, whichseem to have been put to practice in the actual world.29 When we analyzethe phenomenon deeper, we can see that Indiantraditionmakes a distinctionbetween myths accepted by thecollective psyche of thesociety andthe fictiveelementsinvented by an individual poet.Whilethe former is acceptedasfactual and treatedatpar with thehistorical facts,the latter has existenceonlyinanimaginative realm.This wouldbecomeclear to us when we go through some prescriptions containedinSanskrittextsondramaturgy.Thus, dramaturgists likeBharataand Dhananjayaspeakofthe plot of someplays like nataka and prakarana and refer to two categories, viz,the well-known (prakhyata)and theinvented (utpadya). It goes without saying thatthe inventedplotisimaginary and prakaranas like Mrcchakatika,which haveaninvented plot,donot make any claim of factuality.But theconverse is nottrue. There is no guarantee that the well-knownplotrefers to somethingwhich hasactually taken place, sincemostofthese plotsare derived from epics andother mythological narratives. Generally, poeticians seem to have preferred themes which aretakenfrom epics to thosewhichare purely invented by the poet.Anandavardhanareminds poets thatextra care shouldbetaken by them in the case of inventedplots when compared to aplotwhich hasactually takenplace. For it is quiteeasy for him to stumble due to care- lessness andhis lack of knowledgewill be easily exposed.30 Though he avers that the plotderivedfromawell knownsource could be modified by the poet to remove in- appropriate incidents andepisodes, which couldbedeterrents to theaestheticappeal, generally he cautions poetsnot to alter the plot in amanner detrimental to theiroriginal dominant aesthetic appeal.31 Thedistinction betweenfactand fiction is more discernible in the differentiation of twotypes of narrativeprose seen in Amarasimha’s Namalinganusasana,anearly dictionary and Bhamaha’s Kavyalankara,one of the earlier texts in Sanskrit poetics. Here, a distinction is made betweenthe prose romance katha and thehistorical narrative akhyayika.The characteristicfeature of thelatteristhatitisanaccount of whathas

28 Rajasekhara, Kavyamimamsa,ed. Gangasagar Rai(Varanasi:Chowkhambha Vidyabhawan, 1982), chap.3,pp. 12–22; cf.SushilKumar De, HistoryofSanskritPoetics (Calcutta: FirmaKLM,1976), pp. 1–2. 29 Even this mythicalaccountofthe genesis of poetryisnot wanting in “geocultural design.” Cf. Pollock, Language of theGods,p.203. 30 Anandavardhana, Dhvanyaloka,p.334. 31 Anandavardhana, Dhvanyaloka,p.335. 130 C. Rajendran actually happened(vrtta)32 as contrastedwith theformer, which is describedasawork basedonimagination.33 Banabhatta’s Harshacarita,based on historical events,isre- gardedasanexample of akhyayika,whilehis own Kadambari,apurelyfictitious story is regarded as katha.Thiswouldmean that Sanskrit poetics consideredthe distinction betweenfictionand non-fiction an important criterionwithinthe realm of literary genre evenwhen neglecting thesamecriterion in thedistinction between creative literature and scientific discourses.However,wesee that even this distinction is disregardedby some later poeticians like Dandin, claiming thatsuchrigid demarcations are often blurredinactualpractice. This seemstobeanunfortunate literary amnesia ignoring some profoundly sensible perspectives of the vibrantpast. Therehavebeen attemptstoseparate imagination fromactually perceived factin Indianliterary practices wherein thenarrator retains the non-committal stancewithout losing him/herself intothe pure worldoffantasy, as in adream scene or ascene involving abnormal states of mind. Thus, in Kalidasa’s Abhijnasakuntala,the pictureof Sakuntala drawnbythe king Dusyantaseems to comeinto life in his experience, butthe jester, his companion, stubbornly calls it adelusionand wakeshim up fromthatil- lusion. Similarly,inMeghasandesa,whenthe hero,the Yaksa persuades himself to believe that thecloud in front of him is alivingbeing,the narrator assures the reader thatitishis peculiar mental statewhich is responsible for the delusion. We cancon- clude from all this that on the whole, Indianliterary theory andpracticehad its own notionoffactand fictionwhich it held consistently.The worldoffactdoesnot necessarily mean the rational world which canbeempirically verifiable.Italso includes what thecollectivemind hasperceived as real,including belief systemsand myths. Thus, workslike Natyashastra canclaim that everything containedinitisauthentic, since it is basedonfacts actualand imagined,held to be true by the community.The fictive world, on theother hand, is not theprivateworld createdbythe individual poet, which does nothaveany truth claim nor is it interested in making such aclaim. When allissaid anddone, we have to remember that the imaginative realm of the literary world did notsuffer in Indiantraditioninits beingcompared to the “real”objec- tiveworld.The “real” world itself is regardedbysomeidealistic philosophers pro- fessing allegiance to someschools of Vedantaand Buddhism as aphenomenon having no ultimate significance.However,theyaccept the practical efficacy of theperceived world. According to Sankuka, the enactedsituationinastagedplayisfictitious, sinceit is an imitation. The causes andeffects of theemotion portrayed by theactor are unreal. They are assumed by the actor as existing in him, but are totally non-existent in him. But “they are notsoapprehendedbythe spectator, whotakes theactor for thereal person andthe imitated emotions for real ones.”34 The imitated objective signs, like a side-longglancefromwhich an emotion likeloveisinferred, are unreal andhence differentfrom ordinary signslike“smoke” fromwhich oneinfers the existenceof“fire,”

32 Bhamaha Kavyalankara,chap. I, v. 26.Cf. AnthonyKennedyWarder, Indian KavyaLiterature (Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 1977), p. 182. 33 Cf.AnthonyKennedyWarder, Indian Kavya Literature,8vols. (Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 1989), vol. 1, p. 182. 34 V. K. Chari, Sanskrit Criticism (Honolulu: University of HawaiiPress,1990), p. 209. Perspectives andApproaches in Indian ClassicalPoetics 131 which are real. However, though they are unreal, they have practicalefficacyinpro- ducing an emotion,whichisreal. Thefear, which we experience when mistaking arope for asnake, is real enough; similarly, the emotion, which the spectator infers from feignedcauses, is also real. Sankuka, andfollowinghim,Mahimabhatta,quote thefol- lowingverse from the Buddhist logicianDharmakirti to affirm that it is thepractical efficacy, which counts, and not theinherent realityofthings. Theverse is as follows: Between two people approachingtwo lights,the one produced by ajewel, theother by alamp [without being conscious of what they really are] with the idea that it is ajewel, thereexists a differenceinrespect of causal efficiencybut notadifference of mistaken cognition.35 The pointisthatthe cognition of thejewel’sraysasjewel is, strictly speaking, unreal; however, it ultimately helps the seeker of the jeweltoattain theobjectsoughtbyhim, as contrastedwith theperson searching the jewel on the basis of his illusion of it caused by thelight of thelamp. The same is true as far as the world of poesy is concerned. The characters depictedand their emotions mayall be figments of imaginationwithnoprac- tical correspondence.But theaesthetic experience generatedbythe false premises is true andvalid.36 If the proofofpudding is its eating, the fictive world of literature amplyproves its validity with theresults it generates.

35 Dharmakirti, Pramanavarttika,withacom.ofManorathanandin, ed. Rahula Sankrtyayana (Patna: Bihar and Orissa Research Society,1938–1940),vols. 24–26, chap.II, v. 57.The translationisthat of Gnoli, TheAesthetic Experience,p.31. 36 C. Rajendran, “Is Rasa an Illusion? AStudyinMahimabhatta’sAesthetics,” Adyar LibraryBulletin 68 (2004–2006), pp. 226–238.

IRMELA HIJIYA-KIRSCHNEREIT On Bookstores,Suicides, and the Global Marketplace: East Asia in the Contextof World Literature

In recent years, we have witnessedasteadily growingflow of publications andlively discussions about worldliterature. Does East Asia countatall in thecontext of world literature?Dothe Chinese poets of theTang period like Li Bai(701–762) andDu Fu (712−770) figure as world literature, and on thebasisofwhich criteria?Orisit MurakamiHaruki, the contemporary Japanese author, whocomes to mind first?And what about Korean literature, where translation activityinto Westernlanguages has grown exponentially in the past decade?Let me share some reflectionsfromthe per- spectiveofaJapanologist, aspecialist in modern and contemporary Japanese literature and intellectual andculturalhistory.EventhoughItakemyexamples mainly from Japan,Ihope to show that this story is notjust aboutthisone country and culturebut aboutthe complex web of interrelations,and of transculturalentanglements,which we havetoconsider whenever discussing modern topics. The notion of world literatureisawidely disputed one, but this is notwhatIwantto address here.Solet us base our understandingofWorldLiterature,developed by David Damrosch andothers, on thepresumptionthatawork is alive in anumberofcultures and languages other thanits origin, that it is read, discussed andperhaps adapted, and thatitinspires other works in thetargetcultures.1 Needless to say, world literature in this sense does notrefer only to modern works butcomprises texts frompractically all ages. Therecan be no doubt,however, thatthe increased mobility of writers andreaders in thepastcenturyorsohas helpedtopromote the notion. Butfor most historical periods,World Literature referredmainly to thebig names of the Europeancanon. This, as we alsoknow, has to do with anumberoffac- tors,mostprominently perhaps worldhistory and its powerrelations. What Iwould like to do here, though, is, first to look at theprocess throughwhich this notiontookrootin East Asia,taking Japanasacase in point. Interestingly enough, this story is intimately linkedwiththe master narrative of modern Japanese intellectual and culturalhistory, and this allows us to identifyinpassingsometellingaspects of our topic. Iwillthen

1 Cf. DavidDamrosch, What is World Literature? (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2003), p. 4. 134 IrmelaHijiya-Kirschnereit move on to discuss intra-Asian literary contacts andtheir relevance forthe concept of world literature. Iwillalso pointout somequestions thatremain to be discussed. The master narrative of modern Japaneseintellectual andcultural history,aswehave knownitfor severalgenerations now,isone of ahighly developedcivilization that had beenclosed to theworldfor more than twocenturies, only to be “openedup” after increased pressure fromthe Western Imperialpowers, includingRussia, in themid- nineteenth century.What followed wasaconcertedattempt on theJapanese side to “catch up and overtake”(oitsuke,oikose)the advanced powers in allareas deemed essential to thewelfare of thenation. Japan’s all-encompassingand rapid modernization sincethe late 19th century,its rise as aregionaland worldplayerthatsuccessfully fought against Chinaand wasthe first non-European country to winawaragainst a Europeanpower, namely Russia,in1905,iswell known.Its colonialist strategies,cul- minatinginthe annexation of Korea in 1910, whichopenedintoanextendedwarfare on the Asiancontinent as well as in thePacific until1945, is equally present in ourminds. Allthe while, the relations with theWestern world werecharacterized by changing de- greesofattractionand repulsion in acontinuing negotiation of Japan’s nationaland culturalidentity. So much, so well known. Nowlet us takeacloser lookatthe literary and intellectual history of modern Japan throughanumber of key scenes,whichwill link this master narrative withour topic. Just as Japan’smodernizationingeneralistobeunderstoodasacomplex process of ne- gotiatingWesternknowledge, so is literary life in modern Japan rootedinmorethan one tradition,asJapanese literary authorsand intellectuals hadassimilated Western knowledge and acquainted themselves with Western literatures in considerable range and depth.Since the1870s,politicaland historical works as well as literature from English,French, German, Russian, Italianand Scandinavian languageswere published in translation in newspapers,journals, andinbookform. The 1880swere alsoepito- mized as the ageof“translation literature” (hon’yakubungaku), with Japanese versions of playsbyShakespeare, Schiller or Molière andIbsen,poemsbyGoethe andHeine, Boccaccioand Dante, Thackeray, Byron, Keats, Shelleyand Wordsworth, novellas by Poe, Twain, Hugo, Maupassant, Pushkin, Lermontov, Gogol, Andersen, novels by Dickens,Stevenson, Bronte,Verne, Zola, Flaubert,Turgenev and Tolstoy, to mention only some of the authors translatedinthe seconddecadeofthe Meijiperiod, fromthe late1880s throughthe endofthe 19th century. More thanmerely afew authors alsoread Western literature in theoriginalorinEnglishorother translations. In this context,the Maruzen bookstore in central Tokyo, foundedin1869, only oneyear after theMeiji Restoration, with theaim of introducing Western knowledge andtechnical expertise throughimported books arguablyformed the most importantwindow to theworld for generations of intellectuals and writers.Itisherewhere we witness thefirst of thekey scenes in 20th century literaturethatIwant to present. OneofJapan’s typical modern urbanintellectuals wasAkutagawa Ryūnosuke,born in 1892, abrilliant andhighlyreflectiveauthor andagifted aphorist, whoisamong the East Asiainthe ContextofWorld Literature 135 few Japanese writers of his timetohave been translatedintoWestern languages during hislifetime. In his works,hetaps Japanesefolktales as well as theBible, andheisthor- oughly familiar with theliterature of EastAsia as well as of theoccidentalsphere. In one of hislastworks, thethird personnarrationtitled AFool’s Life published post- humously in 1927,helooks backonthe happier andthe darker stages in hislife in the form of 51 briefepisodes or reflections. The very first of these scenesisset in what everyone soon identifies as the Maruzenbookstore.The 20-year-old protagonistis perched on a“Western style” ladder, skimming the titles of Western literature high on the shelves—Maupassant, Baudelaire, Strindberg, Ibsen, Shaw,Tolstoy... Thesun threatened to set beforelong, but he went on reading book spines with undiminished intensity.Lined up before him was not so much an array of books, but the fin-de-siècle itself. Nietzsche, Verlaine, theGoncourtbrothers, Dostoevsky,Hauptmann, Flaubert.... As night presses in,the dimming lightisabout to endhis search. At that verymoment, directlyoverhead,asingle bare lightbulbcameon. Standing on his perch on top of theladder,helooked down at the clerksand customersmovingamong thebooks.They were strangely small—and shabby. Life is not worth asingle line of Baudelaire. He stood on the ladder,watching them below....2 Here we have thekey scene,not only to understand this particular author, butawhole generation. Theyear 1912,about which Akutagawareminisces in this scene, marksthe end of theMeiji andthe beginningofthe Taishō period (1912−1925), atimeofgrowing social andideological contradictions. At this moment, theyoung man’s self-assurance is still determinedbyhis feeling of beingchosenfor his contactwithworks of European literature andart. So completely absorbedisheinsuckingupthe fin-de-siècle and in transposing himself into the world of art that theanticlimax—the realization of the others, the“clerks andcustomers” as the representatives of theeverydayworld, on whom he looks downfromthe topofthe ladder—prompts in him the somber acknowledgement of the primacy of art over life: “Life is notworth asingle lineof Baudelaire.”More than anything, it was this sentence which left itsimprint in the minds of hiscontemporaries.3

2 AkutagawaRyūnosuke, Aruahōno isshō [“A Fool’s Life”] in: AkutagawaRyūnosuke shū [“Akutagawa collection”], Nihonbungaku zenshū [“CollectedWorksofJapaneseLiterature”] (Tokyo:Shūeisha, 1966), vol. 28,pp. 342−357,here p. 342. Iquote from: Ryūnosuke Akutagawa, The Life of aStupid Man,in: Rashōmon and SeventeenOther Stories,select. and trans. with notes by Jay Rubin.With an introduction by Haruki Murakami (London: Penguinclassics, 2006),p.187. This scene is also quoted in Seiji Lippit, Topographies of Japanese Modernism (New York: Columbia University Press, 2002), p. 52,and in James Dorsey: Critical Aesthetics: Kobayashi Hideo, Modernity, and Wartime Japan (Cambridge: Harvard University Press,2009), p. 41, who both give interpretations of this famous scene. 3 On this episode and on Akutagawa’ssomewhat ambivalent relationship with the foreign authors cf. also Carole Cavanaugh, Portrait of the WriterasaYoung Reader: Akutagawa Ryūnosuke in 136 IrmelaHijiya-Kirschnereit Only one month after writing these reminiscences at age36, Akutagawacommitted suicide,anincidentofhighlysymbolic nature to many contemporaries who interpreted it as the failure of intellectual liberalism and modernist cosmopolitanism.Akutagawa himself wasfully aware of the historical meaning of theepisode in his work, which capturesone glorious moment in his life as awriter, as he titled it “The Age” (Jidai), placing it at thevery beginning of the work. The bookstore Maruzen is an important site in the representation of the cultural space of modern Japan and its relation to the West. The description is reminiscent of another writer’s account of Maruzen’s second floor from ten yearsearlier,aswereadinTayamaKatai’s memoirs Thirty Years in Tokyo (1917): “‘Thesurging currents of nineteenth-century Europeanthought, filtered through the second floorofMaruzen,werewashing up on the shores of this solitary, FarEastern island.’”4 What interests us here is theway in which Western literature finds its wayinto the country in very concrete terms, as acommodityinanincreasinglycommodifying cultural market. Akutagawa and his generation maystill have taken refuge in the aura of art as a world of the imagination andoftranscendence. They invoked the namesofcanonized Westernauthors to distinguish themselves and to form their identities as modern artists, and they strove to assimilate literary movements and stylessuch as naturalism,sym- bolism,ormodernism,practically paralleling their development in the West. In themid-1920s, however, Japanand Tokyoinparticular experience arapid change towards thecommodification of literature with theestablishment of amass market. These years seethe foundation of many new journals forageneral readershipinwhich literature occupies asubstantial section,providing anew generationofauthors withthe possibility of earning their living by commissionedtexts. Newbook series are launched, modeled, among others, after the GermanReclam edition.5 Theso-called“enpon boom”6 of books as cheap as one yenper volumelikewisefacilitates access to literature for amass readership, anditisinthis context of agrowing andwideningconsumer cul-

Maruzen Bookstore,in: Dennis C. Washburn andAlan Tansman, edd., Studies in Modern Japanese Literature. Essays and Translations in Honor of Edwin McClellan (Ann Arbor: Center for Japanese Studies, University of Michigan, 1997), pp.151−172. 4 Katai Tayama, Literary Life in Tōkyō:1885−1915. Tayama Katai’s Memoirs ‘Thirty Years in Tōkyō’ (Leiden:Brill, 1987).Icite from Lippit, Topographies,p.244, endnote 33. 5 Cf.RegineMathias-Pauer, “‘Reading for Culture’and the Dawn of Mass Produced Literaturein Germanyand Japan: Case Studies of ReclamsUniversal-Bibliothek and Iwanami Bunko,” Senri Ethnological Studies 28 (1990), pp.111−126. 6 The respectiveseries, publishedbeginning in 1926 with Kaizōsha publishers, Tokyo,was titled Complete WorksofContemporaryJapanese Literature [Gendai Nihonbungaku zenshū]and featured 63 volumes. Other publishers followed with similar series. On thespecific developments in the publishingindustry, the(relative) centrality of the Tokyo publishing world and the material as well as the symbolic impact of the enpon,cf.:Edward Thomas Mack, Manufacturing Modern Japanese Literature:Publishing,Prizes,and the Ascription of Literary Value (Durham: Duke University Press,2010). East Asiainthe ContextofWorld Literature 137 ture that we also witness the start of series dedicatedtoWorld Literature, which in this context means Japanese translations of canonizedworks fromEuropean languages. Chinese classics, whichwereinaway regardedaspartofthe domestic culturalher- itage, or othernon-Western works are notincluded in these WorldLiterature series. Maruzen, thebookstore, is the site of asobering experience in yetanother major work by Akutagawafrom the samelate period, theautobiographicalstory “Cogwheels” (Haguruma). But this time, thespaceofthe bookstore, where the protagonist at least privileges theintellectual over thematerialrealm,has beentransformed into asiteof anxiety and panic: Ifound Strindberg’s Legends on ashelf on the second floor of Maruzenand glancedattwo or threepages.What waswritten there was no different frommyown experience. Even more, it had ayellow cover. Ireturned Legends to theshelf anddragged downaheavy book at random. But in this book,there was an insert depicting arow of cogwheels thathad eyes and noses, no differentfrom human beings. (It was acollection of drawings done by madmen, assembled by a German.)7 Ifeltarebellious feelingstir in my melancholy, and likeacrazed, desperate gambler, Iopenedone book afteranother.Yet for some reason, each book had hidden in it one or more needles, either in its text or illustrations. Every book?⎯Even whenIpicked up Madame Bovary, which Ihad read again and again, Ifeltthat Imyselfwas none other than the petit bourgeois MonsieurBovary.8 We cannotdwell here on thefascinating aspectofhow theculturalspace representedby thebookstore is here occupied by theeruptionofmadness intothe carefully constructed world of rationality.Thismechanism was brilliantly analyzed by Seiji Lippit in his book Topographies of Japanese Modernism,fromwhich Iquotedthe translation of the Akutagawatext. Butitisinteresting to noteinpassing that this mechanism is based on a class identification (as pettybourgeois). Moreover, to borrow Lippit’s words here:“If Akutagawa had earlier discovered himself as areflectionofthe (Western) other,this process hasnow been reversed—everyWestern text in thebookstore has now been transformed into areflectionofhimself.”9 It looks as if our investigation into therelevanceofthe Maruzen bookstorefor modern Japanese literaturehas led us far away fromour initial question concerning the

7 The book is probably: Bildnereider Geisteskranken,cf. Hans Prinzhorn, Bildnereider Geisteskranken.Ein Beitragzur Psychologieund Psychopathologie derGestaltung (Berlin: Springer, 1983),acollection of some 4,500 paintings and drawings by psychiatric patients published in 1922 by psychiatrist andart historian HansPrinzhorn (1886–1933).Artists like PaulKlee, Alfred Kubin, Max Ernst and the surrealist movement were inspired by the works published in the book. Akutagawa might have felt aparticularattractiontothe works, as theyclearly reveal the close connection between genius and madness, creativity and psychosis,depression and euphoria, which he thought he had discovered within himself. 8 Akutagawa Ryūnosuke, Haguruma,in: Akutagawa Ryūnosuke shū [“Akutagawa collection”], Nihon bungaku zenshū [“Collected Works of JapaneseLiterature”] (Tokyo:Shūeisha, 1966), vol. 28,p.317.Iquote from Lippit’s translation: Lippit, Topographies,pp. 55−56. 9 Lippit, Topographies,p.56. 138 IrmelaHijiya-Kirschnereit meaning of world literature in an EastAsian context. ButbeforeItry to reconnectthese threads, let me first quote one more example. KobayashiHideo,bornin1902, who later becameJapan’s most influentialliterary criticofthe 20th century,began his career by writing stories like “The Octopus’s Suicide” (Tako no jisatsu), an autobiographicaltextfrom1922. It recountshow Kobayashi’s alter egoenters the bookstore full of burningdesire for knowledge. He had been confused as to where to begin this quest. He hadentered Maruzen,afive-yenbill clutched in his hand, but had lost all sense of which bookstobuy.Hehad grown furious at the other customers, thinking ‘How can they possibly buytheir books so nonchalantly?’Onthe vergeoftears,hehad fled thebookstore.10 Kobayashi’s longingfor inspirationthrough imported literature and to distinguish himself fromthe unthinking crowds cannot be satisfiedthrough avisit to Maruzen. The aura of art has beenlost in theage of mechanicalreproduction. It is this Kobayashi whosupplies us with anotherkey work for understanding 20th century Japanese intellectual lifeand literature andits possible relation to the notion of world literature. His seminal essay of 1933 titled“Literature of theLost Home”(Kokyō oushinatta bungaku)deals in his characteristically oscillating style with the spiritual homelessnessofamodern Japanese person, whosereturntothe clearly organized native tradition of the premodern with itscontinentalroots is rendered impossible.Nostalgia, but clearly also pride in beingamodern contemporary are evident when he writes: Obviously, our modern literature[...] would neverhaveemerged withoutthe influence of the West.But what is crucial is thatwehave grown so accustomed to this Western influence that we cannolongerdistinguish what is under the forceofthisinfluence from what is not. Andhegoesontowrite: We have finally become able, without prejudice or distortion,tounderstandwhat is at the core of Western writing. [...] At this juncture, it is indeed pointlesstocallout for the“Japanese spirit”orthe “Eastern spirit”. Lookwherever we might, such things will notbefound.11 Kobayashicreates in hisessay avisionofahomethat has never been known, buthe combines theideaofageneration of thelosthomewith therealization that Japanese literature andthought are now rootedinaworldcultural context and cannolonger retreat to “Japaneseness.” Kobayashi’s pointed dictumofa“lost home,” with the positive twistofrelating to awidened,quasi-globalcultural frame of reference, is

10 Cf.Kobayashi Hideo, “Tako no jisatsu,”in: Shinchō 80.5(April 1983),pp. 344−356. Iowe this hint to James Dorsey, CriticalAesthetics (Cambridge:HarvardUniversity Asia Center, 2009), p. 42.Iquote fromDorsey’s translation,ibid. 11 Kobayashi Hideo, “Kokyō oushinatta bungaku,”in: KobayashiHideo zenshū [“Collected Works”], 10 vols. (Tokyo:Shinchōsha,1968),vol.3,p.37. The translationquotedisbyPaul Anderer in: Kobayashi Hideo, Literature of theLostHome: KobayashiHideo⎯Literary Criticism 1924−1939, ed. and trans. Paul Anderer (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1995), pp.53−54. East Asiainthe ContextofWorld Literature 139 shared by most of his contemporaries. Seen in this way, Japan hadbeenattempting a dialogue with the Western cultural worldsince the late19th century,whichhad most of the timegone practically unnoticed by theWestern world.12 Japan’s successes and her expansionisminapolitical, economic, andmilitary sense overshadowthe fact that culturally speaking, Japanhad been treated more or lessasaminor, largely irrelevant player duetoits role as areceiver of literary artifacts from the West, and in this senseit sharedthe fate of the other East Asiannations. True, there are some exceptions in this overall picture of 20th century cultural trafficking, whenwethink of theimpact of trans- lationsofJapanese nō theater andpoetry on European poets andwriters such as Ezra Poundand Bertolt Brecht;and the11th century Japanesecourtly epicofThe Tale of the Shining Prince (Genjimonogatari)has impressed generations of Western writers from Virginia Woolftocontemporary German authors. All in all, however,East Asianliter- ature was not, eveninEastAsia itself, regardedasworld literature, although Japanese authors had, as we have seen, appropriated the Western canonaspart of their owncul- tural heritage through severalgenerations. By the1930s,however, the notion of world literature wasfirmly established in the Japanese intellectualdiscourse, and it would be worthwhiletodealindetail with essays such as theone titled “World Culture andJapaneseCulture” (Sekaibunka to Nihon bunka), published in 1934 by the famous translator of German philosophicalworks, AbeJirō (1883−1959). Or take thebrilliant MarxistcriticTosakaJun (1900−1945), who underscored hisuniversalist outlook in hisessay “Nipponistic Ideologies,” also pub- lishedin1934, by remarkingthat“world literature”comes intobeingthrough theauthenticity of asingular work, transcending its own cultural context.13 The 1930s were a timeofincreased tension between theinternationalism anduniversalismofthe socialist and theMarxist movements and agrowing nationalism and nativism,which went hand in handwithJapan’smilitarization andisolationisttendenciesduringthese years. It is timenow to stepbackfor amoment and consideroncemorethe picture drawn so far in relationtoour topic. It seemsthatwithin theframework of theJapanese master narrative of the20th centuryasastory of concertedmodernization in positive andin negative terms—technological progress, democratization andeducation, butalsoexpan- sionismand militarization—thatthismaster narrative takes theWestern worldasthe solepoint of reference. Butwhatabout Asia, andinparticular East Asia, in this

12 Ielaborate on this topic in: IrmelaHijiya-Kirschnereit, “A FarewelltoExoticism—Japan and the WesternWorld,” Forensic Science International 69. 3(Shannon: Elsevier Scientific Publishers Ireland,1994),pp. 177−186. 13 Tosaka Jun, Nippon ideorogī,in: Tosaka Jun zenshū [“Collected Works”] (Tokyo:Keisō shobō,1967), vol. 2, p. 298.The German translation by Fabian Schäfergoes: “So wie echte Literaturimmer auch ‘Weltliteratur’ sein muss, so sind auch Philosophien und Theorien, diebloß einem Volk oder einer Nationzugänglich sein sollen,gemeinhin nicht authentisch.”In: “Nipponistische Ideologien (1934),” in: Tosaka Jun. Ideologie, Medien,Alltag. EineAuswahl ideologiekritischer,kultur-und medientheoretischer und geschichtsphilosophischer Schriften, ed. and trans.Fabian Schäfer (Leipzig: Leipziger Universitätsverlag,2011), p. 97. 140 IrmelaHijiya-Kirschnereit context?Ihave takenJapan’s modern history as abackdrop to the story of howthe notionofworld literature took root in an East Asiancountry.And although it is beyond the scope of this paper to address thecomplexities of modern historyinEast Asia, I wouldtentatively present thethesis that Japan shares fundamental similarities in the experienceofdealingwiththe West in culturaltermswith its EastAsian neighbors, its particular role as acolonialpower notwithstanding. There maybeacertaintimelag in respecttothese experiences, and we might also have to take into account Japan’s role as alinguisticand cultural mediator between the West and its neighbors in the early 20th century,but whenitcomes to theideaofWorld Literature, thepoint of reference has, Iassume,singularly been theWesterncanon. To avoidany misunderstanding, Ihavetostress here thatIdonot adhere to the conventional myth of confounding modernization with Westernization.Recent historical research has beguntopaint quite adifferent pictureand has stressed the indigenous factors of modernization precedingWestern impact. This also applies to literature,where it has become clear that Japan’s negotiations withthe West cannot be adequately graspedinabinary scheme. Relations with theAsian continent, in particular with China, remained an important frame of reference throughout,somuchsothatwe could write an alternative history of modern Japanese narrations, onewhich wasfed by the practice of translation,adaptationand secret assimilationofpatterns from Chinese popular literature of the late 18th and early19th century. Some researchers contend that these processesmay havebeenmuchmoredistinctive forthe development of Japanese literature than the encounter with the Europeannovel in the 19th century.14 This is,ofcourse, another story altogether, butwhatisimportant here is thefactthat thereare andhavebeenimportant cultural andliterary points of contact,which seem to play no part when it comes to thediscussion of world literature.Onthe other hand,the 20th century is an ageofincreased regionalexchangealsowithinEastAsia, even though it appears overshadowedbyJapan’s colonialism.Recentresearchhas therefore focused on these aspects of the Japanese empire andrevealedavibrantintra-East Asian cultural and literary life between1895and 1945,despite thefact that it wasconditioned by unequal power-relations. There has indeed been, as these studies have shown, a lively exchangebetweenreaders andwriters in China, occupiedManchuria, Korea, andTaiwan, and this intertextuality,beit“passive”or“dynamic,” continues into the 21st century.15 Isuspectthatthese rich andcomplex literaryrelationships duringthe past

14 Cf. Jonathan E. Zwicker’s studyonthe “literatureoftears”: Jonathan E. Zwicker, Practices of the Sentimental Imagination: Melodrama, the Novel,and the SocialImaginaryinNineteenth-Century Japan (Cambridge:Harvard University Press, 2006), butalso the works of Japanese scholars such as Kamei Hideo with his focus on the analysis of narrative structures rootedintraditionalforms. 15 See, aboveall,Karen LauraThornber’swork, in particularher seminal study: Karen Laura Thornber, Empire of TextsinMotion: Chinese, Korean, and Taiwanese Transculturations of Japanese Literature (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2009). East Asiainthe ContextofWorld Literature 141 century will take time to feed into anew conceptualizationofworld literature,leaving behindatlastthe “The West andthe Rest”paradigm. As amatteroffact, however, we would have to go one step further and askwhether thereare meaningfulcontactsnot just withinthe East Asian regionbut also within wider Asia, or,toput it more generally,among different culturalregions in thenon- Western world. This is aquestion that Imyself cannotanswer, butmyassumption is thatthis is arelatively recentphenomenon fuelled by acceleratedglobalization andnew communication media such as the internet. Speaking formodern Japanese literature,not much translation activity fromnon-European languages took place. The“Arabian Nights”entered Japanvia translations from Western languages, andtheyfigured as a rare exampleoforiginal texts in non-Europeanlanguagestohave beenaccepted into the early JapaneseWorldLiterature collections.There is also thecaseofDazai Osamu (1909−1938), an immensely popular writer, andhis autobiographical novel Ningen shikkaku,translatedasNo Longer Human,publishedposthumously after his suicide in 1948, wherereferenceisfoundnot only to Dostoevsky and other Western writers but to Omar Khayyám(1048−1131), thePersian scholar, philosopher, and poet, andtoa selectionofhis poemsunder the title The Rubáiyát.Dazai quotes fromaJapanesetrans- lation,which is basedonEdwardFitzGerald’s famous English versions.16 So again it wasatranslation intoaEuropean languagethat functioned as abridgetoanother non- Westernliterature in this relatively rare case of intertextualization within Asia. Perhaps it would be more appropriate to speak of Asia in theplural here, for the culturalregions of East Asia, South Asia,orthe Araband Persiancultures allseemto form their owndistinctcultural universe. So what aboutthe literary contact betweenthe diverse Asias today?Are they stilldependent on translations into Europeanlanguages, and what couldstimulate more direct contact betweenthem?Itlooks like theNobel Prizefor Literature,again aEuropeaninstitution,plays acertainrolefor thevisibility andprestige of awriter andthe nationalliterature which he or she represents. We can takeJapanese writer KawabataYasunari (1899−1972), who received the NobelPrize in 1968 as thefirst writer of anon-European language,asatelling example. There is no doubt that interest notonly in Kawabata but also in Japanese literature increased considerably after this, as canbeseenbytranslation activity fromthe 1970sonwards. In East Asia, Kawabata was studiedand translated intensely,and there are writers like Chinese avant-garde novelistYuHua (b. 1960) who confesses that,“Ichosewhat Iread of twentieth-century literature on thegrounds of whetherithad wonthe NobelPrizeor not. Thefirst Kawabata Iread was from theZhejiangselectionofNobel Prize-winning works.”17 In other words, Kawabataisacase in pointfor the“Politics of Cultural

16 Iowe this information to Jürgen Stalph, Dazai’s translator intoGerman, cf. “Das Drama des begabten Kindes,” in:Irmela Hijiya-Kirschnereit, Ausgekochtes Wunderland: Japanische Literatur lesen [“Hardboiled Wonderland:Reading JapaneseLiterature”] (München:text+kritik,2008), pp.100–107,p.105. 17 Quotedafter Thornber, Empire,p.380. 142 IrmelaHijiya-Kirschnereit Capital” (JuliaLovell) andthe EconomyofPrestige. After he wonthe NobelPrize, he was the most frequently translated Japanese writer in SouthKorea in the 1960s,with 15 translations of his novel Yukiguni (Snow Country,1935−1947) alone,eight of them from1968.18 Thepopularity of this work is particularly noteworthy giventhe fact that it waspopular among Japanesecolonizers andsoldiersthroughout East Asia, primarily for its nostalgic evocations of the Japanese homeland. We also know that Kawabatawas an ardent supporter of World War II. On the otherhand, this wasone of the worksfor whichhewon the Nobel Prize, and thenovel evokesatimeless, idealized landscape. All of this might havemade theworkattractivefor South Korean translators andreaders nevertheless.19 But Kawabata is alsoreadand intertextualized in theArab world. There is anovel titled DearMrKawabata by the LebaneseauthorRashid al-Daif (b. 1945), originally publishedinBeirutin1995. The Englishtranslation waspublishedinLondon in 1999, and thebook, whichwas translatedaltogether into eightlanguages,issofar themost successfulworkfrom this author. DearMrKawabata is writteninthe form of aletterto thedeadJapanese author, astreamofconsciousness by adyingLebanese manwho is looking back on his life. There are recollections, both bitter andsweet, about Beirut and Lebanonasthey were andasthey couldhavebeen. Andthere arereflections on the daily language and theideologyattached to it.But whyshouldRashid al-Daif’s pro- tagonistchoosethe Japanesewriter as his confessor?Thisquestion hasengagedmany commentators.One view is thatithad to be apersonfromafar-away country,from a non-Westernculture, as Europeans are toodeeply entangledwith thetensions in the Nearand Middle East andthe war in Lebanon. The protagonist is an intellectualwho reflects on these fatal entanglements, and Kawabata, thefamous writer fromremote Japancounter-balances thesetroubles withhis authority. The mystery of Kawabata’s suicide is another fascination forthe protagonist, whoisstrugglingwithhis own suicidalimpulses. Yetanother readingofthe novelclaimsthat the protagonist’s motivationfor choosingKawabata as hislistener are hisdoubts concerningthe ability of language to adequately convey hisexperiences. Wordsmustbeunhingedfrom their cultural context, their seemingly “natural” environment, to probe their meaning. PerhapsitisthisaspectofKawabata as sensitive to the cultural meaning of language that makes himacompetentlistener to the narrator in RashidalDaif’snovel. If we take thisArabicnovelasanexample for referencesbetweendifferent Asian literatures,doesitrepresent anew development of growing awareness of what is going on in theliteratures in other parts of Asia andagrowingdegree of intra-Asian adaptations,translations, andintertextualizations?Isuspect that conventional hierarchies are stilllingering.Itlooks like within Asia, Japan is relatively hegemonic, and the Nobel Prize for twoofits authors—the other one being ŌeKenzaburō (b.1935) in 1994—could

18 Cf. Thornber, Empire,p.380. 19 In these reflections, Ifollow: Thornber, Empire,p.380. East Asiainthe ContextofWorld Literature 143 be an important reason for this.20 But there is also the success of Murakami Haruki (b. 1949), the internationalstar author who is popular in Europe as well as all over Asia, andinhis wake,other young Japanese authors like Ekuni Kaori (b. 1964) are gainingawidereadership in countries like South Korea, China, andTaiwan. So far, however, East Asian and other Asian literatures arenot translated to acomparable degree intoJapanese. This also applies to our example of Rashid al Daif’s novel, theArabic dialogue with Kawabata. Although there wasanarticle about the novel in Japanese, it was not translated. We can still senseacertain power imbalance and speculate about its background. But returning to ourtopic of world literature, do we assume that MurakamiHaruki, whoistranslatedintosomany languages and sold so many copies, is an author of world literature?Toquote from aGerman review of his most recent work, the novel 1Q84: “Murakamiwrites ‘world literature’, by having hisnovels publishedasmillion sellers all over. He thus strengthens Japan’simage andthe economy. This makes him aglobal player, but not asecondDostoyevsky.”21 Now, howdowereadthisstatement?Isitfed by acertain Europeanarrogance? Or does this claimremindusofotherpossible criteria,astheywerepointed outearlierinthispaper? But whodecides which writer and which worksare canonized? And on what grounds? This sketch of the locusofthe literatures of Asia in the framework of worldliterature would, however, be hopelesslylopsidedwithoutadeeperhistorical dimension. As men- tionedearlier, world literature is notaphenomenon of the modern and contemporary periods. And when we look backinhistory, we realizethatworld literature must have existed beginning in ancienttimes. If we includeinliterature theancient myths, we can seethattheydid indeedtravelacross wholecontinents, as ClaudeLévi-Strauss has shownwithhis research on myths, as when he tracesHerodot’s Kroisosorthe legend of King Midas in theSouth ChinaSea as well as in Mongolia, Tibetand in Korea.22 In this context,wedonot see thehierarchies andunbalances, which we have observedsince

20 This contributionwas written before the announcement of the2012 Nobel Prize, which was awarded to Mo Yan(b. 1955), the first Chinese writer to win the prize after exile writer Gao Xingjiang (b. 1940),who received it in 2000.Itremains to be seen in which way these facts will affect the prestigeofChinese literature in the future. 21 Lisette Gebhardt:“Cooles Japan, XXL. Der Erfolgsautor Haruki Murakamisetzt mitseinem monumentalen Roman 1Q84 neue Massstäbe,” NeueZürcher Zeitung (Nov. 11,2010), http://www.nzz.ch/aktuell/feuilleton/literatur/cooles-japan-xxl-1.8340598 (retrieved Nov. 20, 2010): “Murakami schreibt ‘Weltliteratur’,indem seine RomaneinMillionenauflagen überall veröffentlicht werden. Er stärkt damit das japanische Ansehen unddie Wirtschaft. Dies machtihn zu einem GlobalPlayer, nicht aber zu einem zweiten Dostojewski.” My translation. 22 Cf. Claude Lévi-Strauss, DieandereSeite desMondes. Schriften überJapan [L’autre face de la lune.Écrits sur le Japon,2011], trans. EvaMoldenhauer (Berlin: Suhrkamp, 2012). See also a numberofcontributions in:Dominique Jullien, ed., Foundational Texts of World Literature (New York: PeterLang, 2011), e.g.onthe myth of Arachne or ancientMesoamerican foundational texts, in: Jullien, Foundational Texts,pp. 165−176, pp. 47−68. 144 IrmelaHijiya-Kirschnereit thelate 19th century,but throughout thecenturies, theflows have gone in onedirection or theother. Lévi-Straussgives afascinating picture of the travels of these legends and myths, which all havetheir origins in Asiaand whichhave travelledtothe West and to the East.Buddhism as an important transmitter of legends was enrichedbyelements fromHellenisticculture, and Hellenism hasabsorbed,asweknow,Asian elements as well. In this broader context,the idea of world literature canbeframeddifferently again, andhere, Asian cultures figuremuch more prominently than in thepicturewe havedrawnofthe 18th and19th centuries. Of course, other prominent and more recent examples offer themselves fromthe field of genuineliterary studies, like David Damrosch’s investigationofThe Buried Book: The Loss and Rediscovery of the Great Epic of Gilgamesh whichpresentsthe tale as aunifyingstory over time and continents,23 or the recent collection of contributions Foundational TextsofWorld Literature from2011, edited by Dominique Jullien, which also features literary bridges between East and West, ancient and modern, fromthe Alexander Romance and the Arachne myth to Ovid and Dante. It seemsobvious that, depending on the period under consideration and the dimension of the chronological cross-section, the role of Asian literatures withinwhat we now describe as transcultural flows and regard as world literature is rich and varied. And it seemsthat we have only nowbegun to study its implications. But whatabout the21st century,with the new media of communication andnew possibilitiesfor writers to reach aglobalaudience?Dotheyhavetowrite in aglobal fashion? What is the meaning of “local,” “regional,”and “global” in this context, anyhow?Anewgeneration of authors seemstoreflect on these issues. Korean author KimYoung Ha (b. 1968)made the following remark in an interview with aGerman- languagenewspaper in 2009.Hecommentedonthe fact that European readers of his works felt they were somehow missing an Asian or ethnicKoreantouchinhis works. But,hesaid, this might have beenanatural consequence of thefactthat hisnovelsare situatedinahistorical moment when Western consumer culture boomed in his country. To theextent, then, that present-day Korea is part of aglobalized world, thelocalcolor expected by international readers seemstofade, at leastonthe surface. Askedabout globalization of Koreanliterature, which, accordingtohis explanation,retains certain characteristicssuch as apronouncedpreferencefor shortnarrations and the lack of light genres such as pulp fiction, however, he statedthatthis mayhappen eventually,but it cannot andshouldnot be agoal.24 Again,thereisawholeset of new questions to address as writers, readers, publishers, and institutions accommodate themselves within

23 David Damrosch, TheBuried Book: TheLossand Rediscoveryofthe Great Epic of Gilgamesh (New York: Henry Holt &Co.,2007). 24 Cf. Ho Nam Seelmann, “Literatur als Wunschmaschine.” [“Literature as awishing machine”], interview with Kim Young Ha by Ho Nam Seelmann, Neue Zürcher Zeitung (May 30, 2009), http://www.nzz.ch/nachrichten/kultur/literatur_und_kunst/literatur-als-wunschmaschine-1.2646689 (retrieved Dec. 30,2009). East Asiainthe ContextofWorld Literature 145 therapidly changingtechnological, cultural, andpolitical framework of contemporary globalizedconsumerism. Preliminary and meandering as these reflections on theconcept of world literature fromthe perspectiveofAsian literatures mayhave been,withtheir seemingly random highlights on the development of thebookmarket in 1920s Japan, the prominence of suicidal writers andtheir grasp of theEuropean canon, as it wasaccommodated into a Japanese andEast Asian literary heritage, and inter-Asian literary contact, thesereflec- tions hopefully have served to indicate thepotential for new insight fromthis yetunder- studiedarea in ahistorical and in acontemporary context. After all, we can expectthat Asian literatures will play an evenmoreactive partinthe global market from now on. Anditseems thatasfor thenotionofworld literature, we haveonlyjust begun to dis- coverits many implications.

MITSUYOSHI NUMANO Shifting Borders in Contemporary Japanese Literature: TowardaThird Vision1

Haruki Murakamiand FyodorDostoevsky: The Two Most Popular Writers of JapanToday

ThequestionImost oftenget abroadis, “Ofcontemporary Japanese writersof junbungaku (serious literature), whom would youconsider worthtranslatingintofor- eign languages?”Myanswer alwaysvaries. TrendsinJapan change fast enough to make your head spin. As an undergraduateatthe University of Tokyo in the 1970s, I used to answer without hesitation, “Definitely atie betweenKoboAbe andKenzaburo Oe.” Admittedly,thisanswer reflected my own tastes andwas not100%objective, but it hadits solid grounds.

1 Parts of this paper and some of its ideas arebased on papers which Ipreviously presented and published on variousoccasions. Closely related as they are with each other,theyhavebeen revised, intertwined, and incorporated into this substantially newpaper afterthe Concept Laboratory in Berlin.Iwould like to thank all those peoplewho gavemeopportunities to presentthem and helped me shape my ideas. “Граница японской литературыиее сдвиги вмировом контексте,” Иностранная литература (Moscow, Innostranayaliteratura)(2002), pp.242–248. “Toward aNew Age of World Literature: The BoundaryofContemporaryJapaneseLiterature and Its Shifts in the Global Context,” firstdelivered as akey note speech Redefining the Concept of World Literature at theInternationalSeminar of theUniversity of Indonesia on July 19, 2006, and later published in Renyxa 1(2010), pp.188–203. “Sekai no naka no nihon bungaku. Ekkyo,soretomokyokai no hen-yo?” [JapaneseLiteratureinthe World: Border-crossing, or aChange of Borders?], in: MitsuyoshiNumano, W-bungaku no seik e [Toward theAge of W-Litrature] (Tokyo:Goryu shoin, 2001), pp.13–40. “Haruki vs. Karamazov: The Influence of theGreat Russian Literature on ContemporaryJapanese Writers,” trans.RyanShaldjian Morrison. Firstdelivered as a Todai-Yale Initiative Lecture at Yale University,onDec. 8, 2009, and later published in Renyxa 3(2012), pp.188–206. “Japanese Literature in the Post-3/11 Era: Is the ‘Future’sDoor’ About to Open?,” Japanese Book News 71 (2012), pp. 2–3. Partsofthe last section in the present paper “Instead of an Afterword: Japanese Literature in the Post-3/11 Era”was taken fromthere with kind permission of the Japan Foundation.Anote should be added that it was, in turn, based on “Postscript” to my book: Sekai wa bungaku de dekiteiru [The World is Made of Literature](Tokyo: Kobunsha, 2012), pp.360–374. 148 Mitsuyoshi Numano HowwouldIanswer thesamequestiontoday?Iwould probablyhavetoreply half- jokingly: Haruki Murakamiand Fyodor Dostoevsky.HarukiMurakami requires no introduction. Book 1and Book 2ofhis latest novel 1Q84,published in May of 2012, quickly becameanenormous bestseller, sellingover2millioncopies—andsetting a new record in termsofspeed. And accordingtoarecentnewspaper article, hisnovel Norwegian Wood2 stillcontinues to sellinhugenumbers—over10 millioncopies have already been sold. It might seem strange,then, thatIpairedMurakamiwith Dostoevsky.For aperson who is familiarwith modern Japanese literary history,itwouldnot be difficulttoguess where Iamgoing with this: Dostoevsky’s impact (largely throughtranslation)on modern Japanhas been tremendous, andhedeserves to be studiedalongsideJapanese writers.Yet even so,whatdoes it mean that Dostoevskyisnow as popular awriter as theinternationalbestsellingauthor HarukiMurakami?Mypaper will attempt to answer this question, as well as thebroader one—namely,whether there is still aclear-cut border that separates domestic writers from foreign writers, or “original”works from translations. In 2007anewhighly-acclaimed Japanese translation of Dostoevsky’s greatnovel The Brothers Karamazov3 was published in fiveseparatevolumes, and also becamea bestseller withsalestopping onemillion. Of course, it was not thefirst translationof this Dostoevsky novel. The Japaneseare perhaps the world’s most voracious readers of Dostoevsky,and there have already beenover tenmulti-volume“complete” collections of his works (zenshu4)issuedtodate. TheBrothersKaramazov alonehas beentrans- latedeleventimes since theMeijiperiod. Given this historicalfamiliaritywith thebook, whydid it allofthe sudden become abestseller?One reason is perhapsthat Kameyama’s new translation is written in afresh contemporary idiom that is relatively easy to read. It was included in aseriescalled“NewTranslations of theClassics” (published by Kobunsha), whose purposewas to retranslate themodern Western classics into new andreadableJapanese.The projectwas ahugehit,and authors ranging from Shakespeare to Tolstoy andKafkahaveacquired awhole newJapanese readership. Theliterary and historicalsignificanceofthis “New Translations of the Classics” series—particularly its importance from the perspective of translation studies—will surely be much discussed in coming years.Ishould also mention that aparallelphe-

2 Haruki Murakami, Noruwei no Mori (Tokyo:Kodansha, 1987). For the English translationsee: Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood,trans.AlfredBirnbaum, 2vols. (Tokyo:Kodansha International, 1989). 3 Fyodor Dostoevsky, Karamazofu no kyodai,trans. Ikuo Kameyama, 5vols. (Tokyo: Kobunsha, 2006– 2007). For the English translationsee: Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov,trans.Richard Pevear and Larisa Volokhonsky (New York: Farrar, Straus&Giroux, 2002). 4 Zenshu literallymeans “completeworks”ofawriter. In the Japanesepractice publishers tend to use this term for anymulti-volumecollection of workseven if it is not “complete.” Thereforein 20th centuryJapan therehavebeen alot of zenshus of world literature(“sekai bungaku zenshu”). ShiftingBorders in Contemporary Japanese Literature 149 nomenonhas occurred in the English-speakingworld,namely,Richard Pevear and Larisa Volokhonsky’s series of new translations of the Russianclassics, includingtheir 1990 publication of The Brothers Karamazov.Like the“NewTranslations of the Classics” project in Japan, this project also emphasizes its differences fromearlier translations andhas been warmly welcomedbyEnglishreaders. It is beyondmy abilities to giveadetailed analysisofthe qualitativedifferences between the various English translations, butIwill sayaword aboutPevear andVolokhonsky’s methodology,which appears to be the exactopposite of that employed by theJapanese translator Kameyama. What Pevear and Volokhonskyseem to be trying to do is to move the English closer to the original Russian.Their reasoningisthat areader-friendly version of thetextalready exists (Constance Garnett’s famous translation), so whyredoit? In theEnglish-speakingworld, thetrend in translation seemstohavemoved in the directionoffaithfulness to the original.5 Rather than preferring reader-friendly translations,readers are demanding translations thatare more faithfultothe original. This change is reflected in the three translations of The Tale of Genji,which was first translatedbyArthur Waley,thenEdward Seidensticker, andfinally Royall Tyler.6 In Japan,however, it seemsthatthe opposite is true: recent translations aim for reader- friendliness.Yet this is not necessarily because the previous Japanesetranslations have grownold with time;rather, readers demandthattranslations are written in afresh, contemporary idiom.Toborrow theterminologyofthe translationtheorist Lawrence Venuti, thetransitionintranslationmethods canbecharacterizedinthe English- speakingworld as amove fromdomesticationtoforeignization, whileJapanhas seena move fromforeignizationtodomestication.7 To returntothe subject of thenew Japanese translation of The Brothers Karamazov, the recent unprecedentedpopularity of thebook cannot be attributed solely to thefact thatitiseasy to read.Infact, many of the previous translations—includingthoseby Masao Yonekawa, Taku Egawa, and TakuyaHara—are also fairly easy to read. Instead, the book’s recentpopularityisdue to Dostoevsky’s own strengths as awriter, andto thosequalitiesinhis works that make himrelevant to contemporary Japan. It is well known thatthe creation anddevelopment of modern Japanese literature is much indebted to the influence of the Russian writers, fromDostoevskyand Gogolto Turgenev, Tolstoy,and Chekhov. Comparative literaturespecialistshave writtenmuch about how Shimei Futabatei, oneofthe founders of themodern Japanese novel, discovered amodern prose style throughtranslatingTurgenev’s The Hunter’s Diary,and

5 For adiscussion of the history of English translations of Russianliterature, including Garnett and Pevear andVolokhonsky,cf. David Remnick,“The Translation Wars,” TheNew Yorker (Nov.7,2005). 6 For adiscussion of the differencesbetweenthesetranslations,see:David Damrosch, What is World Literature? (Princeton: Princeton University Press,2003),pp. 296–297. 7 Foradiscussionofthe terms domestication and foreignization,see,for example: Lawrence Venuti, TheTranslator’s Invisibility: AHistory of Translation (London/New York: Routledge, 1995). 150 Mitsuyoshi Numano about how theShirakaba group, an influential literary coterieinthe lateMeijiand early Taisho eras,held up Tolstoy as their mentor. The problem of howRussianliterature influenced Japanese writers fromthe Meiji periodonisofcourse acomplexone,and cannotbesufficiently dealtwith here; butitis clearly evident that Russianliterature hasbeentremendously popular and hascontinued to play asignificantroleinJapanthroughthe years. AlthoughRussian as aforeign language hasnot beenaspopular as English, German, or French, Japan hasbeen at leastas equally aware of Russianliterature as it has beenofFrench, German, or English literature. Despiteminimaldirect contact with neighboring Russia andits people (particularly since the1917RussianRevolution),and despitethe perceivedfear of theSoviet Unionduringthe Cold War, Japan has maintainedanintimate connection withthe literature of Russia. There is ashort story by RyunosukeAkutagawa from1920 called “Yamashigi” (“AWoolcock”) 8 in which Tolstoyand Turgenev appear as itsmain characters, and the story is so convincing that it couldhavebeenwrittenbyaRussian whohad firsthand information aboutthesewriters. It goes without saying that theinflu- ence of Russian literature was so greatthatthe Japanese of Akutagawa’s day felt much closertopastRussian writers and their creations than to any realcontemporary Rus- sians, whoremained amostly distantand unknownpresence. In postwarJapan, the Russian classics suffered adecline in popularity. That said, the number of writersinfluenced by and well-versedinRussian literature was by no means small, andthis group came to formone of the majorschools of contemporary literature. The majorityofits memberswereassociated withthe literary magazine Modern Literature (Kindai bungaku), which was started shortly after thewar by YutakaHaniya, Shugo Honda, Masahito Ara, KenHirano, and Ki’ichi Sasaki.Although unable to read Russian, these critics and writers possessed an astonishing degreeofknowledgeabout Russian literature, and thecriticalworks by Sasaki (on Chekhov),Haniya (on Dostoevsky), and Honda(on Tolstoy) havebecome moderncritical classicsintheir ownright. In contemporary Japanese literature there are writerssuch as Otohiko Kaga, Kenzaburo Oe,HarukiMurakami, Masahiko Shimada, whoare well versed in Russian literature andinfluenced by it in asignificant way.The combination of Murakamiwith Russianliterature might seem unexpected as he is generally considered an Ameri- canophileamong contemporary Japanesewriters, butRussianliterature has beenoftre- mendous importance to Murakami. We cantrace it in hisvarious works. It is true that Murakamiisagreat admirer of American literature,and its influences surely show.HeisfluentinEnglish, so fluent, in fact,thathis Japanesesentences often lookasiftheywere literaltranslations fromEnglish. He is also an accomplishedtrans- lator of variousAmerican writers, including Raymond Carver, F. ScottFitzgerald, J. D. Salinger, Raymond Chandler, andTrumanCapote. For awriterofMurakami’s

8 Ryunsuke Akutagawa, “Yamashigi,” in: Akutagawa Ryunosuke zenshu,Chikuma buno [The Complete Works of Ryunosuke Akutagawa, Chikuma pocket books] (Tokyo: Chikuma shobo, Chikumabunko, 1987), vol.4,pp. 132–149. ShiftingBorders in Contemporary Japanese Literature 151 world stature to spend so much timeand effort on translations is indeed arare phenomenon.Whenhis debutnovella Hear the Wind Sing first appeared (1979), many critics pointed outthe various influences fromKurt Vonnegut Jr. and Richard Brautigan. Thus, one might find it surprising that Russian literature hasbeen of tremendousimpor- tance to Murakami. On several occasions (such as interviewsand talks),Murakamipointed outthatlong before he had ever heard of Americanliterature he wasreading the19th century Russian classics, and thatheevenread TheBrothersKaramazov several times. In a1985dialoguewithKenji Nakagami, for instance, he had this to say: My first experience with thenovel was mainly with Russian novels. There was atimewhen I read nothing but Tolstoy, Dostoevsky, and the likes. That was thebeginning of my affairwith thenovel.Ididn’t startreading American novels until Ibecameabletoread English.9 It is therefore not surprisingthatsomeofMurakami’snovels relate, either directlyor indirectly,tothe Russian classics, andhaveanimportant symbolic relationtothem. Many readers will remember that, for instance, “The Rat” (Nezumi), one of the impor- tantcharactersinhis debutnovella Hear the Wind Sing10,was writinganovel about a funny musical groupinspiredbyThe Brothers Karamazov (I wonder what they sounded like). And in his next novel Pinball,1973,the topicofDostoevsky againcomes up in a conversationbetweenthe protagonist andtwo twin girls—a conversationwhichdeter- mines the atmosphere of thewholework. “So hardly anybody’sfriends with anybody?”puzzled 209. “I guess not,” said I. “Almost no one’s friendswith anyone else.” Dostoyevskyhad prophesied it; Ilived it out. That wasmylifestyle in the1970s.11 The persistent referencing of literaryfigures,including Dostoevsky,perhaps reflects Murakami’s emulationofthe bookshewas readingwhilewriting. In Kurt Vonnegut Jr.’s SlaughterhouseFive,for instance,one of thecharacters also referstothe Russian writer’s novel: Rosewater said an interesting thing to Billy one timeabout abookthat wasn’t science fiction. He saidthat everything there was to know about life was in “The Brothers Karamazov,” by Feodor Dostoevsky, “But that isn’t enough anymore,” said Rosewater.12 However, thereferences to Dostoevsky andthe whole canonofRussianliterature appear mainly in Murakami’s longer novels,two of whichare particularlyrelevant.

9 Kokubungaku [JapaneseLiterature] (Tokyo:Gakutosha), March 1985, p.18. My translation. 10 HarukiMurakami, Kaze no uta okike (Tokyo: Kondansha, 1979). For theEnglish translation, see: Haruki Murakami, Hear theWindSing,trans.Alfred Birnbaum (Tokyo:Kodansha,1987). 11 Haruki Murakami, Sen kyuhyaku nanaju san nen no pinboru (Tokyo:Kodansha, 1980),p.44. For the English translation,see:Haruki Murakami, Pinball, 1973,trans. Alfred Birnbaum (Tokyo/New York: KodanshaInternational,1985), p. 17. 12 Kurt Vonnegut, Jr., Slaughterhouse Five or theChildren’sCrusade (Delacorte Press, 1969), p. 87. 152 Mitsuyoshi Numano The first is AWildSheepChase.Inthis novel, “The Rat” explains in aletter his love for 19th centuryRussianliterature. Probablywe’d have been better off born in nineteenth-centuryRussia. […] Me, if I’d been born in thenineteenth century, I’m sure Icould have written better novels. Maybe not your Dostoyevsky, butaknown second-rate novelist.13 The second example is from Hard-BoiledWonderland andthe Endofthe World. Toward the endofthe novel, thenarrator,justasheisabout to leavethisworld, asks the librarian if she has everread TheBrothers Karamazov.She replies that she has, many years ago, andonlyonce. He tells her sheought to read it once more, as there is much to be learned from it. He then parts with thelibrarian and, restinginapark, closes his eyes and recalls thenames of the Karamazov brothers—Mitya, Ivan, Alyosha,and thebastardSmerdyakov—wonderinghow many peoplethereare in the worldwho can recall those four names.14 Obviously, these references arenot chosen arbitrarily, nor are they mere accessories; rather, thereferencingofRussianliterature is apersistent anddeliberate motif thatis repeatedthroughout Murakami’s works. ForMurakami, Russia is not theRussiaoftoday,orevenofthe Sovietera;rather, it is the 19th century countrythat produced the greatwriters Dostoevsky, Tolstoy and Turgenev. Notably, there are very few(if any) contemporary Russiancharacters in hisworks. His recent 1Q84 marks another turning point in termsofhis relation to Russia. In this novel, amotifinvolving notDostoevsky butChekhov is brought to the fore,and Chekhov’s famous axiom—“once agun appearsinastory, it has to be fired15”—serves aspecialfunction with regard to thedevelopment of theplot. Also deserving of our attentionare thebook’snumerous references to AJourney to Sakhalin,Chekhov’s collection of observations taken during his triptothe Sakhalin

13 Haruki Murakami, Hitsuji omeguru boken (Tokyo:Kodansha,1982),p.109. For the English translation see: Haruki Murakami, AWild Sheep Chase,trans. Alfred Birnbaum(London: The Harvill Press,2000), p. 76. 14 Haruki Murakami, Sekainoowari to hado-boirudo wandarando (Tokyo:Shinchosha, 1985), p. 603.For theEnglish editionsee:Haruki Murakami, Hard-Boiled Wonderland andthe End of the World,trans. Alfred Birnbaum(London: TheHarvill Press, 2001), p. 389–390. 15 Haruki Murakami, 1Q84,Book2(Tokyo:Shinchosha, 2009),p.33. For the English translationsee: 1Q84,Books Oneand Two, trans. Jay Rubin (London: Harvill Secker,2011),p.346. This quote is important for thefurther development of the novel’s plotasitsuggests what will happen to the heroine in the future (in arather misleading way).Famous as it is, theproverbial Chekhov’s gun has no single definite version since Chekhov made statements to this effect notonce and these statements slightly differ from each other. For adiscussion of Chekhov’s gun and its importancefor 1Q84, see: Mitsuyoshi Numano, “Oweru, Chekofu, Yanachkku: ‘Ichi kyumachi yon’ oyori fukaku tanoshimu tamenochushakushu”[Orwell, Chekhov, Janaček:aCommentaryfor getting more pleasure from reading 1Q84], in:Kawadeshobo shinsha henshubu[theeditorial staff of Kawade shobosincha], ed., Murakami Haruki “Ichi kyu hachi yon” odoyomuka [How to Read 1Q84 by Haruki Murakami] (Tokyo:Kawade shobo shinsha, 2009),pp. 39–46. ShiftingBorders in Contemporary Japanese Literature 153 Island.In1890, at theage of 30 (roughlythe sameage as Tengo, the protagonistof 1Q84), Chekhovwas struck by theinexplicableideaofsettingout for theisland of Sakhalin. Riskingdisease(it was practically asuicidalexpedition,ashewas already ill), Chekhovproceeded to investigate theconditions of theprisoners living on the island, recording his findings andimpressions in abook. As Tengo says,itwas awork that “did little more than bewilder most readers, who foundthatitmoreclosely resembled adry investigative report or gazetteer than awork of literature.”16 Whydid MurakamiHaruki specifically singleout this work for use in his novel, putting aside more famous worksbyChekhov? In 1Q84,Tengo considers why Chekhov felt so compelledtotravel to Sakhalin Island—aquestionthathas beenariddlefor scholars for over acentury.Tengotries to explain that Chekhov himselfmightnot haveunderstood exactly whyhewent, buthe “was both anovelist andadoctor, [and] as ascientist, he wanted to examine something likeadiseased part of thevastRussiannation.”Bygoing to theisland and writing about it,Chekhovwas abletoset aside his usualliterary pursuits andescape fromthe literary world of Moscow “hewas fedupwith” andfrom the “malicious critics of theday”who he wasdisgusted by.17 This argument makes us wonderwhether Murakamiwas super- imposinghimself onto Chekhov, as we canpresumethat is exactly what theJapanese author also tried to do through his investigations into the 1995 SarinGas Attackonthe TokyoSubway. After theSarin GasAttack, Murakamiwrote twoworks of nonfiction, Underground18 and In thePromisedPlace19 based on his interviews with victimsofthe act of terrorismand with followers of AumShinrikyō,the cult responsible for the attack.The projectwas Murakami’s own attempt at akind of social commitment, and the incidentwas hisown version of Chekhov’s SakhalinIsland. Perhaps it is forthis reasonthatMurakamisees abit of himself in Chekhov.

Translation and Border Crossing

Dostoevsky andMurakamiare twonames that represent thesituation of Japanese literature in the context of world literature.Crossingthe border intoJapaneseliterature, Dostoevsky comestoJapanand becomes an integral part of it,while Murakamigoes

16 Haruki Murakami, 1Q84,Book1,p.461.For theEnglish translation, see: Murakami, 1Q84,Books One and Two, p. 276. 17 Haruki Murakami, 1Q84,Book1,p.462.For theEnglish translation, see: Murakami, 1Q84,Books One and Two, p. 276. 18 Haruki Murakami, Andaguraundo (Tokyo: Kodansha, 1997). For theEnglishtranslation, see: Haruki Murakami, Underground: The Tokyo GasAttack and the Japanese Psyche,trans.Alfred Birnbaum and Philip Gabriel (London: Harvill, 2000).ThisEnglish translation combines the 1997 Andaguraundo and the 1998 Yakusoku saretabasho de into asingle book. 19 Haruki Murakami, Yakusokusareta basho de. Andaguraundo 2 (Tokyo:Bungei shunju, 1998).The Englishtranslation is included in the above-mentioned Underground (2000). 154 Mitsuyoshi Numano out to becomeapart of worldliterature in theEnglish-speakingworld. It is clearthatin bothcases translation playsacrucial role: in Russian-to-Japanese andJapanese-to- English translations. It should be notedhere that Murakamiisvery conscious of the English-speaking world as his potentialmarket andevenseems to prefertranslation of his worksfromEnglish, rather than from the original Japanese. In this aspect he can be compared to MilanKundera, who wants to have his works translatedfrom French, rather thanfrom Czech. Thereis, however, afundamental difference betweenKunderaand Murakamiintheir attitudes towardtranslation. WhileKundera, beforehebegantowritedirectly in French with thenovel La lenteur [Slowness] (1995), tried to create French translationsas “authentic” as the Czechoriginals by collaborating with his translators, Murakami, on the other hand,welcomes the circulationofEnglish versions of hisworks that are tailoredtothe needs of theEnglish-languagebookmarketand that, as aresult, sometimes differ fromthe original in asignificant way. TheWind-up Bird Chronicle20,pub- lishedoriginally in threevolumes, forinstance,was abridgedradically to be published in onevolumeinEnglish. To putitmoresimply, by engaginginthe process of translation, Kundera believes in theauthenticity of theoriginal; for Murakami, there canbe no singleoriginalversion, and it is acceptable to himthatEnglish translations differ fromthe originalaslongasthey serve thepurposeofacquiring widercirculationinthe world. Even in ourage of globalization,however,thereare writers whose works cannot crosscultural andlinguistic borders so easily.Imyself once remarked in an article devoted to problems of translations: Awork of literature is somethinglikeaflower that blossomsonlyonceonthe soil of acertain language.Totranslate it means nothing buttransplanting it onto the soil of aforeign language and making it blossom once more. Therefore it is an attempt that is,bydefinition, impossible.21 Translators must know verywell,from their ownexperience, that among first-class exquisite works of literature there aremany that defy translation. Severalyears ago, when involved in compiling an anthology of contemporary Japanesepoetry in Russian translation,Iwas obligedtopersuadeone of themostprominentJapanese haiku poets to give permission for hisworks to be included, thoughthisattempt was in vain:he refused theproposal, saying somethingtothis effect:Ahaiku canbecalledahaiku

20 Haruki Murakami, Nejimaki-dorikuronikuru,3vols. (Tokyo:Shinchosha, 1994–1995).For the Englishtranslation, see: HarukiMurakami, TheWind-up Bird Chronicle,trans.Jay Rubin (New York: Knopf, 1997). 21 Mitsuyoshi Numano, “Hon’yaku omeguru nanatsunohijitsuyotekina dansho” [“SevenUnpractical Fragments on Translation”], in: Mitsuyoshi Numano, W-bungaku no seiki e: Kyokaiokoeru nihongobungaku [Toward theAge of W-literature.Japanese-Language Literature that crosses its Borders](Tokyo:Goryu shoin,2001), p. 154.Mytranslation. ShiftingBorders in Contemporary Japanese Literature 155 when it is written in Japanese. It is impossible to translateitasitcannotexist in a languageother thanJapanese.22 It goes withoutsayingthattranslation of the classical genres of Japanese poetry, haiku and tanka,involvesspecific difficulties since thesegenres are boundbystrictfor- malrules. In thefield of Japanese prose, however,there still remains ahuge untrodden terra incognita. To give justone example, Yutaka Haniya,whom Ibelieve is oneofthe most interestingand important writers of post-war Japan,ispractically unknownamong Western Japanologists, andhis tour de force, Shirei (Death Spirits, 1946–1995)23,which towers in thehistory of modernJapaneseprose as an unprecedented“metaphysical” novel, seemstohave no chance of beingtranslatedbecause it is toodifficult. More generally, it can be said that historical novels that are basedonparticular historical settings rarely go beyond their ownnationalbordernomatter how popular they areintheir domestic market. Ryotaro Siba,for example, is awidely read writer of very popular historical novels andisevenconsidered a“nationalwriter,” butheispractically unknownbeyondthe border of theJapanese language. The same is true of thePolish historicalnovelist HenrykSienkiewicz, whosehistorical trilogy,set in Polishnational history (“The Trilogy”), is notknown outside Poland,although Quo vadis (1896)24,set in ancientRome, once enjoyedenormous popularity throughout theworld. If bordersstillexist that surround Japan and theJapanese language,these borders havebeenshifting. This boundary shift canbeseen clearly in the glaring contrast between the Nobel lectures of Yasunari Kawabata:“Japan, theBeautiful, and Myself” (1968) (“UtsukushiiNihon no watashi”)25,and Kenzaburo Oe (1994): “Japan, the Ambiguous [or vague, uncertain—M.N.], andMyself”(“Aimai na Nihon no watashi”).26 Thetitle sounds strangeinbothEnglishand Japanese,partly becauseit appears to be an ironic, somewhatprovocative parody of Kawabata, theother Japanese Nobel laureate’s lecture. Looking back, onecan assumethat Kawabata received thehonorary prizefor his uniqueJapanese aesthetics, made accessible to the Western readerthrough his trans- latedworks.Atthe time,itwas quite characteristicofthe world, especially of Western countries, to expect Japaneseliterature to be completely different from that of other

22 These wordsare taken from aprivate correspondencebetween thepoet and the author of this paper. 23 Yutaka Haniya, Shirei [Death Spirits],3vols. [1946–1996] (Tokyo:Kodansha, 2003). 24 Forthe Englishtranslation, see: Henryk Sienkiewicz, Quo vadis:ANarrative of the Time of Nero, trans.Jeremiah Curtin (Boston: Little,Brown,1896). 25 YasunariKawabata, Utsukushii nihon no watashi. Sono josetsu [Japan, theBeautiful,and Myself: An Introduction],trans. Edward Seidensticker(Tokyo: Kodansha, 1969). This edition containsthe original textinJapanese as well as an English translation by EdwardSeidensticker. 26 Kenzaburo Oe, Aimai na Nihonnowatashi [Japan, the Ambiguous, andMyself](Tokyo: Iwanami shoten, 1995). Forthe English translation, see: Oe Kenzaburo, Japan,the Ambiguous, and Myself: The Nobel Prize Speech and OtherLectures,trans. Kunioki Ynagishitaand Hisaaki Yamnouchi (Tokyo: Kodansha International, 1995).The Englishedition is not identicalinits selectionoflecturestothe Iwanamiedition in Japanese. TheNobel speech wastranslated by Hisaaki Yamanouchi. 156 Mitsuyoshi Numano countries. Kawabata waschosenbecausehemet these expectations.Here Iamtalking not so much aboutKawabata’sindividual stanceasabout thehistorical position he accepted in this context—a context of Western expectations dominatedby “Orientalism,” to use Edward Said’s terminology. TheNobel Prize giventoOe, however, symbolizes something qualitatively new,the fact that Japanese literature is sheddingthe taint of exoticism and beginningtobeac- cepted as “normal”literature, thatis, as an equal component of contemporary world literature.Itisnolonger appropriate to usesuchlabels as unique Japanese aesthetics. Kawabata,however, needed to define Japan in aunivocal way usingonly oneadjective (“beautiful”), and this naturallyled himtoseparate himself and hisworks fromthe rest of the world, which was not ascribed such aclear-cut, univocal definition. Unlike Kawabata,Oeasserts that there can be no such a“beautifulJapan” with which writers can clearly identify themselves; instead there is the “ambiguous Japan.” This kind of consciousness brings thewriter to amuchmoreopen position, since the premise of “ambiguity”makes it difficult to constructaclear-cut border andseparate oneself from therest of the world. However, this “openness” does notimply the transformationofa“national”literature intoa“transnational” onethat is intendedasabusiness-oriented world-wide production thatiseasily understood. In one of his lectures, Oe argues that TheJoke—the first novel by MilanKundera, which was written in Czech—can be calledawork of “universal, really world-class writing.”However, his later novel Immortality,publishedfirst in French before thepublication of theCzech originalbecause it was intended fora broader Western readership,gave Oe theimpression that it wasaproduct of French as “a regionallanguage.”27 Imyself share Oe’s impression. Here we are dealing with apeculiarparadox: only through his or her “localness” and national peculiarities canawriter reach universality.Asfor Oe’s works, although he is well versed in Western literature andreads Englishand French texts extensively,often preferring thoseliteratures to Japanese, his writings are in most cases basedonaprivate life thatisrestricted to arather small milieu in Japan.Many of hisworks are almost autobiographical anddealwith hispersonal experienceslivingwith hismentally retarded son. Oe has also written anumberofnovelsthattakeplace in asmall village on the islandofShikoku, obviously modeledafter his birthplace.Asaresult, Oe has createdawhole world that revolves around that village,with whichmany of his works are interwoven. It is an imaginary literary realmthat can be compared to Faulkner’s Yoknapatawpha or García Márquez’s Macondo.Thus, Oe succeededinattaining worldwide acclaim simply by “stayingput”withinhis small village,remotefrom the rest of theworld. It is arathercommonparadox that in thenew ageofglobalization, any small place on theperiphery canbeone of many centers within anewly defined, decentralized world literature.

27 Oe, Aimai na Nihon no watashi [Japan, the Ambiguous,and Myself],pp. 222–223.Mytranslation. ShiftingBorders in Contemporary Japanese Literature 157 New Phenomena in Contemporary Japanese Literature: Levy, Tawada, and Others

In contemporary “ambiguous” Japan, writers have appeared suchasHideo Levy (b. 1950), Minae Mizumura(b. 1951), andYokoTawada (b. 1960), all of whom cross the borders of Japanese literature in their ownways. LevyisanAmerican-born writer who writes exclusively in Japanese. His father was an American diplomat of Jewish origin who had no familial ties to Japan. Levy was broughtupinTaiwan andJapan, where hisfatherworkedfor many years. Later, Hideo Levy earnedhis doctoraldegree in Japanese LiteratureatPrinceton University.Hewas aprofessorofJapanese literature at Stanford University and even received theNational Book Award forhis splendid English translation of the Man-yoshu,the oldestanthology of thegenre of Japanese traditional poetry(waka), compiled in the8th century. Levy suddenlydecidedtoquithis successful academic career andmove to Japan, where he has since lived. He writes only in Japaneseand never translates hisown works into English. In oneofhis essays, entitled“TheVictory of theJapanese Language” (“Nihongo no shori”),hewrites that we can now speakofthe victoryofthe Japanese languagenot because more andmoreforeignersare studying thedifficult language, but because there are finally non-Japanese writers whothink andworkinJapanese.These writers dispel the Japanese myth of the trinity of Race-Culture-Language.Thatistosay, “the Japanese language has shakenoff the straitjacket of the Japanasahomogeneous nation ideology”28 thathas been dominant in Japan forsuch alongtime. New talents whose careers canbeseenasparallels to Levy’s are emerging, including some ethnicJapanesewriters. For example, Minae Mizumurawrote abilingual novel entitled An I-Novel From Left to Right29.The novelwas unprecedentedintermsofits bilingualtext: it was written basically in Japanese, but alot of Englishphrases are inserted into the body of theJapanesetext withouttranslation. Thestory is almost entirely based on lengthy telephone conversations between twoJapanese sisters who havelived in theUnitedStates fortwenty years andwho oftenuse Englishwhen speaking about daily life in America. The author doesnot bother to translate their EnglishconversationsintoJapanese. As aresult, we have auniquebilingualnovel in whichcode-switchingoccursincessantly with its heroineseasily changingfrom English to Japanese andfrom Japanese to English. Thesecondhalf of thenovel’s title,“From Left to Right” (which is written in English, withthe Roman alphabet) refers to the Europeanway of writing,whichisunconventionalwithinJapan,wheretexts have traditionally beenwritten or printed in vertical columns fromright to left.Thus, Mizumura’s devicecan be viewedasamanifestviolationofJapan’s literary tradition.

28 HideoLevy(Ribi Hideo), Nihongonoshori [The Victoryofthe JapaneseLanguage] (Tokyo: Kodansha, 1992), p. 38.Mytranslation. 29 Minae Mizumura, Shishosetsu from Left to Right [AnI-Novel From Left to Right] (Tokyo: Sinchosha, 1995). 158 Mitsuyoshi Numano Somewhat later, however,Mizumuraclearly showedher inclinationtoreturn to the tradition of Japanese literature, andasaresult, wrote suchnovels as ARealNovel (Honkaku Shosetsu)30 and Inheritancefrom Mother: ANewspaperNovel31—nostalgic homages to subgenres of the modern Japanese novel.Moreover, in her sensational essay When theJapaneseLanguagePerishes,32 she warns against theperilous situation of “national” literatures, suchasJapanese literature,writteninJapanese, a“national”(but not“universal”)languagethatisonthe vergeofperishing under the shadow of an all- encompassing universal language, namely,English. WritingbothinGerman andJapanese, Yoko Tawadaisanextremely language- conscious writer. However, unlikeNabokov, shedoesnot aspire to thatperfect mastery of twolanguages supposedly characteristic of theperfectlybilingual person. Rather, what preoccupies her as abilingualwriteristhe sphere outsideone’s nativetongue, which shecalls“exophony”inone of herbooks, Exophony, or AJourneyOutside the Mother Tongue.Inthisunexplored dimensionshe freesher linguisticimagination,experimenting with word play, interlingual puns,and the interweavingofheterogeneous linguisticechoes.33 With such brilliant precedents as Levy,Mizumura, and Tawada, we nowsee younger “border crossing” writers: Shirin Nezammafi(fromIran), Yan Yee (fromChina), Arthur Binard (fromthe United States), and Tian Yuan (fromChina). All of them chose Japanese as their language of literary expression, although Japanese is nottheir native tongueand their choiceofthe language wasnot imposed upon them by irresistible force. We now witness anew generation of Japanese-language writerswho have chosen Japanese by their own free will. Oneofthe recentnovelsthat hasbecomeatalking point in theJapanese literary world is thenovel WhitePaper by Shirin Nezammafi. 34 This work earned the NewcomerPrize of the literary magazine Bungakukai in 2009 forits author, awoman born in 1979 in Teheran. It goes without sayingthatfor her, theJapanese language is not anativelanguage, butalanguage that she learned later in her life. The noveltakes placeinIraninthe years of the Iran–Iraqwar. The main character is agirlwho, having escapedwar-torn Teheran, attends school in thetownwhere she took shelter.Itisa coming-of-agenovelthatportraysyoungloveunder the threat of bombings, amoving portrayal of youngpeople under extremecircumstances who are earnest in their studies andinlove. Japandoes notappear anywhere in this novel. Forsomepeople,this begs

30 Minae Mizumura, Honkaku Shosetsu [A Real Novel] (Tokyo:Shinchosha, 2002). 31 Minae Mizumura, Haha no isan.Shinbunshosetsu [Inheritance from Mother: ANewspaperNovel] (Tokyo:Chuokoron shinsha, 2012). 32 Minae Mizumura, Nihongo ga horobiru toki [When the JapaneseLanguages Perishes](Tokyo: Chikumashobo, 2008). 33 Yoko Tawada, Ekusofoni. Bogo no soto he deru tabi [Exophony, or aJourney Outside theMother Tongue](Tokyo:Iwanami Shoten, 2003). 34 Shirin Nezammafi, Shiroi kami/Saramu [White Paper/Salam] (Tokyo:Bungei shunju, 2009). ShiftingBorders in Contemporary Japanese Literature 159 the question, why write this novelinJapanese in thefirst place? Just what does it mean for aforeigner to write such anovelinJapanese? In order to consider this question, letusrefer to another foreignwriter: Yang Yi,who becamethe first Chinese writertowin theprestigious Akutagawa Prizein2008. She is aChinese national, born andraised in China, andChinese is her native language. Her works always deal with Chinese characterswho livetheir lives straddling both China and Japan, and this sets her apart from Shirin Nezammafi, whosedebut novelisset in Iran and has no Japanese characters. For example, Yang Yi’s Akutagawa Prize-winning novel AMorning When TimeBlurs35 deals with the vicissitudes of aChinese man: his university years in theChinese countryside,experiences during theTiananmen demon- strations andthe pro-democratic revolts, his arrest and abandonment of studies, his eventual journey to Japan, andhis life there. By dealingwith youth, with the crossings of love andrevolution, this story reminds us of somethingnostalgic, which current Japanese literature seemstobeonthe verge of forgetting. This unique quality of the novel greatly appealed to the contemporary Japanese readership. There is no problem with Nezammafi’s Japanese, andYangYi’s Japanese is even betterthanNezammafi's,asshe comes fromaculturethatuses Chinese characters, which are shared by Japan. But even so,the Japanese in whichthese authors write is somehow notquite naturaland differs in subtle ways fromthe Japaneseusedbynative speakers. Theproblem thenishow we should view this “difference.” Some readers might just call Nezammafi and Yang Yi’s Japanese “strange,” butIwould consider what they are doing to be beneficial to both Japanese peopleand theJapaneselanguage. Alanguage is similar to aliving being; if it develops in isolation in aclosed world, it would endlessly repeat itselfand eventually fall into decline. Japanesepeople have had, in their long history,the opportunity to take in elementsfromChina and the West, and they haveassimilated these foreign elements into their domestic language. Therefore,there is no need forustobeafraidofwhatis“different,” which canonly provide us with diversity. But of course breaking alanguagebarrierisnosimplematter. Idonot thinkthat therewillcomeaday when, like in current sumo,whichisnow dominated by Mongolian,Bulgarian, Estonian, Georgian, andRussian sumowrestlers, non-native writerswillbethe dominantpresence in theJapanese literary world.But it is alsoim- possible to underestimate the meaning of the fact that new writers nowworkinJapan, such as the Australianwriter andplaywrightRoger Pulvers, theSwissnovelistDavid Zopetti, theAmerican poet Arthur Binard, andthe Chinese poet Tian Yuan, all of whom we shouldpay more attentiontofrom now on. Also, using an example closer to home, in the placewhere Iteach, the newly created Department of Contemporary Literary Studies at TokyoUniversity,there are foreign studentsfromUkraine,Poland, China,Korea, Kazakhstan, Venezuela,and theUnited States, and along with the otherJapanesestudents at thedepartment, they write essays

35 Yang Yi, Tokiganijimu asa [A Morning WhenTime Blurs](Tokyo: Bungei shunju, 2008). 160 Mitsuyoshi Numano and dissertations in theJapanese language aboutwriters such as Banana Yoshimoto, Yoko Tawada, andOsamuDazai. Now the questionis: Just what kind of meaning canwefind in the actofliterary creationinalanguage foreignand non-native to awriter? We cansay that, at leastin thecase of thoseforeign writers who are currently writinginJapanese, thefirst and most prominent thingthey do is to shed light on Japanese expressions that are half- buried in themidst of mundane, everydaylife, andbydoing so, they contribute to the diversityofthe Japaneselanguage andmakeitricher andstronger. Secondly, thesewriters have brought to theJapaneselanguagefromoutside of it somethingthatwemight call the“grandnarrative”thatwas almostforgotteninevery- dayJapan,and this element has thecapability of providing strong stimulationtomodern Japanese literature.Ithinkthatthe important pointinconsideringforeign writers is, actually,not whether the Japanese language usedbythemisgoodorclumsy.Weare facingaquestionthatgoes far beyondthat. What, then,isatthe core of thequestion? In my view, theexistence of foreign writers entails the question of whether theJapanese language canbeused to depict the world outside Japan, andwhether the Japanese language thatnativespeakers use is fitto vividly portraythe worldoutside of Japan. We often consider theinternationalizationofJapaneseliterature as represented by the fact that KenzaburoOereceivedthe NobelPrize for Literature and is greatly admired throughout the world, or by the fact that Haruki Murakamihas been translated into many languages and is read widely in translation. That is to say,wethink of the inter- nationalization of Japanese literature in termsof“fromthe inside to outside” of Japan when talkingabout thespread of Japaneseliterature.However, on adifferentnote, as I am arguing, foreignauthors writing in Japanese engageinaprocess that takes place “fromthe outside to theinside” of Japan, aprocess that has enrichedthe literature written in theJapanese language. We must look at both of these directions in order to understandthe real meaning of the internationalizationofJapaneseliterature.

In Search of aThird Vision

Iadmit that what Ihavebeen discussing here based on theexamplesofsomeJapanese writersisnot totally newtothose acquainted with world literature of the20th century. SamuelBeckett, Vladimir Nabokov, Elias Canetti, Witold Gombrowicz, Milan Kundera, and Joseph Brodsky—to mention only themostoutstanding examples—eachcrossed national,culturaland linguistic borders in their ownway to explorenew horizonsinworld literature.Obviously,Japanese writers like Hideo Levy and YokoTawada fit into this context very well. In asense, through the actofborder crossingthey liberate Japanese readers from the traditionalframework, which confines them withinaseemingly homogeneous Japanese culture; they seekapaththat will eventually leadJapanese ShiftingBorders in Contemporary Japanese Literature 161 literature to theopenspace of world literature. Non-Japanese readers are also liberated, thanks to the efforts of such writers, from the idéefixe of exotic Oriental literature, and are able to accept Japanesecultureonthe common platform of the contemporary world. Before concluding, letmebriefly revisit the verynotion of worldliterature, whichI havebeenusing withoutany clear-cutdefinition. In practical usage in Japanese, the phrase “worldliterature” (SekaiBungaku)simplymeans “foreign literature,” usually excluding Japanese literature. In Japan, an encyclopedia of world literature does not containarticlesonJapanese literature. This kind of separatism is still deeplyrootedin the Japaneseconsciousness, and thedichotomy of oneself versus therestofthe worldis still difficult to overcome. Given this inertia, Goethe’s utopian definitionofworld literature has notyet lostits validity andactuality.Itisnot surprising that thedirect successors of Goethe’s position were Karl Marx andFriedrichEngels, whostatedinThe CommunistManifesto in 1848that, “[n]ational one-sidedness andnarrow-mindedness becomemoreand more impossible,and fromthe numerous national and localliter- aturesthere arises aworld literature.”36 We are, however, living in adifferentpost-colonial age in whichsmall nations all over theworldare strugglingtoestablish theirown cultures andliteratures in the faceof all-engulfing English,the de facto linguafranca.Ifthe diversity of many languages, resisting thehegemony of one universal language, is the essenceofworld literature today,this sharply contradictsGoethe’suniversalnotion. Canwebridge these twocon- tradictory visions of world literature?Ifsuch abridgeispossible,itmight providea third visionofworld literaturethatwould be capableofintegratingthe previous two. Imyself have been seeking such athirdvision for many years. Iwould like to refer here to the linguistRoman Jakobson, whosought throughout his life structural “invariance” in language, although he knewsomany languages and was awareoftheir striking differences. 37 If the search foruniversalityignores humandiversity,itwill succumb to totalitarianism;yet, at the same time,ifthe search fordiversityisnot sup- ported by thebeliefinuniversal humanvalues,itwill fall into nihilistic relativism and eventuallycollapse into anarchy.Here ametaphormay help: world literature is,inmy opinion, amachine in perpetual motion that moves between the two poles of universality anddiversity. The very process of thisperpetual motion is what Icall world literature.

Instead of an Afterword: Japanese Literature in the Post-3/11 Era

Ishould finishmypaper here, butthe earthquake andtsunamithat devastated north- eastern JapaninMarch of 2011 andthe nuclear crisis that followed made us keenly

36 KarlMarxand Friedrich Engels, The Communist Manifesto:AModernEdition (London: Verso, 1998), p. 39. 37 RomanJakobson, “MyFavoriteTopics,” in:Roman Jaokobson, Verbal Art, Verbal Sign,Verbal Time,edd.KrystynaPomorska and Stephen Rudy(Oxford: Blackwell,1985), pp. 3–7. 162 Mitsuyoshi Numano conscious of anew “border” in Japanese literature: aborder that separates theliterature before 3/11fromthe literatureafter 3/11. It is true that the border in question is of a quite different nature, butlet me briefly discuss it as one of thevarious borders that pertain to contemporary Japanese literature. This is intendedtobeakind of afterwordto my paper and, at thesametime, shouldprovide someintroductory remarks on thefuture of Japaneseliterature. Theimpact of the 3/11 catastrophestillcontinues to affect every aspect of life in Japan. Literature is no exception.Strugglingwithadespairing sense that this wasnot the timefor literature, contemporary writers have respondedinavariety of wayssince disaster struck the countryonMarch 11,2011. Almost immediately,anumber of poets responded with lines that were plain,poi- gnant, andfierce. Ryoichi Wago, aFukushima-based poet previously knownfor rather abstruse contemporary verse, suddenly shifted gears afterthe disaster, usingTwitter to publishasuccession of very short pieces that rapidly gainedasubstantial following. In the end,there are only tears.Iwant to write furiously,like aman possessed. Radiationisfalling.The night is quiet. Everynight has its dawn.38 These pieces could hardly be classified as poetry in theconventional sense―theauthor himself refers to them as “pebbles of poetry.” Butthey moved peoplewiththeir straightforwardness. Kai Hasegawa, oneofJapan’s leading haiku poets,turnedtotanka to express his feelings on the catastrophe,responding to what he describedasan“irresistible urge”to write with arelentless surge of poems(Shinsai kashu; ACollection of Poems on the March11Disaster): Do not speak lightly/Of twenty thousand deaths / Each one of them/Aparentorchild /Abrother or sister.39

Recovery:/Animpressive word andbrave /But / Those who have been lost /Will not return again.40 What drovethis haiku poet to shift to theslightly longer tanka form? As Hasegawa quotes in the postscripttothe collection of hispoems,the tanka poet from the Heian periodKinoTsurayuki famously wrote in his Kanajo [Japanese Preface],the introduction to Kokinshu (or sometimescalled KokinWakashu), the first imperially sponsored collection of verse in Japanese:

38 Ryoichi Wago, Shinotsubute [Pebbles of Poetry](Tokyo: Tokuma Shoten, 2011), p. 10, p. 16, p. 262. My translation. 39 Kai Hasegawa, Shinsai kashu [A Collection of Poems on the March 11 Disaster] (Tokyo:Chuo Koron Shinsha, 2011), p. 8. My translation. 40 Hasegawa, Shinsai kashu [A Collection of Poems on the March 11 Disaster],p.144. ShiftingBorders in Contemporary Japanese Literature 163 When we hear the warbling of the mountain thrush in the blossoms or the voice of thefrog in thewater,weknoweveryliving being hasits song. It is poetrywhich, withouteffort,moves heaven and earth, stirs thefeelings of theinvisible gods andspirits, smoothsthe relationsofmen andwomen, and calmsthe hearts of fiercewarriors.41 If we take these words as areferencetothe universal power of tanka,which literally means “short songs,” perhaps we can concludethatthe shockoflastyear'sdisaster awoke thespiritoftanka thatwas lying dormant in Japanese hearts, leading Hasegawa from the exquisite literary form of haiku to thetraditional form of tanka,whichturned out to be more fittingfor emotional expression in themomentofcrisis. Meanwhile, Yo Henmipublished aseries of vivid, almost grotesque poemstitled Me no umi-Watashi no shisha tachini[Sea of Eyes: To My Departed].For the author,who grew up in oneofthe Tohokutowns devastated by the tsunami, the work is at once an act of mourning, arequiem, andabove all, apoet’s desperate attempt to summonthe power of poetic expression andpit it defiantlyagainstthe violentforcesofthe universe. My departed dead: You must sing your poems alone. Let the shore daisies keep from flowering, Let the yellow plants that cling to the cliffs refrain from mourning— Until theright words have been found, each one unique and singular, Andassignedtothe lungs Of my departeddead.42 Novelists have alsoresponded in avarietyofinteresting ways,albeitsomewhatmore slowly than poets. Anumber of novels written sincethe disaster show how writers’ imaginations havebeentested by theterrible events of 3/l1. Iwould like to touchon two outstanding examples: Uma tachiyo, sore demohikari wa muku de [O Horses! At Least theLight Remains Pure]43 by HideoFurukawaand Koisurugenpatsu [The Nuclear Plant in Love]44 by Gen'ichiro Takahashi. Furukawa headedtoFukushima in early Aprilof2011, notlongafter theearthquake, as if spurred by some kindofurge for self-destruction. He gotclose to thenuclear plant and describes what he experienced there in hisnovel.The result is more than just reportage. Thebookisajumbled mixofreality andaction, in which Furukawafinds himself joined in his carbyacharacter from Seikazoku [The Holy Family],45 oneofthe

41 KokinWakashu,Shin nihon koten bungaku taikei (Tokyo:Iwanami shoten, 1989),vol.5,p.4.For the English translation,see: Kokinshu: ACollection of Poems Ancientand Modern,trans.Laurel RasplicaRodd and MaryCatherine Henkenius(Princeton: Princeton University Press,1984), p. 35. 42 Yo Henmi, Me no umi [Sea of Eyes] (Tokyo: Mainichi shinbunsha, 2011), p. 48.Mytranslation. 43 Hideo Furukawa, Uma tachi yo, sore demo hikari wa muku de [O Horses!AtLeastthe Light RemainsPure](Tokyo:Shinchosha, 2011). 44 Gen'ichiro Takahashi, Koisurugenpatsu [TheNuclearPlantinLove] (Tokyo:Kodansha, 2011). 45 HideoFurukawa, Seikazoku [TheHoly Family] (Tokyo:Shueisha, 2008). 164 Mitsuyoshi Numano author’s earlier works set in theTohokuregion. This fusionofactionand nonfiction was perhaps the only way thedisorientedauthor coulddealwiththe overwhelming reality of what he waswitnessing. With Koisurugenpatsu,bycontrast, Gen'ichiro Takahashi maintains his position at the vanguard of postmodern Japanese literature,depictingthe aftermath of thenuclear accident in typically absurdist,surrealiststyle. The novel deals withthe struggles of a porn film director instructed by hisboss to make an adult movie to raise money forthe reconstructioneffort. The noveltakes its title fromthe filmhemakes. Some mayfind the barrage of explicit contentinthe novelinappropriate or even disrespectful. Personally,Ithink the author deserves respect for refusingtotone down his usual style eveninthe face of Japan’s three-prongeddisaster. Although thedisaster maywell have “exposedthingsthatpreviously lay hidden in this country,”46 unspokentaboosstill exert apowerful influence over literary expression.Dismantlingthese taboos is oneof the things Takahashi sets outtoachieve in this novel. Aremarkable array of nonfiction andcommentary has already been published about thedisaster. Perhapsthe most significant studiestoemerge so far are Fukushimano genpatsujikoomegutte: Ikutsu ka manabikangaeta koto [Onthe NuclearAccidentin Fukushima: Some Lessonsand Thoughts]47 by the physicist Yoshitaka Yamamoto and Nihonnodaitenkan [Japan’sGreat Turning Point]48 by thereligious scholar Shin'ichi Nakazawa.Although both books discuss the issuesofnuclearpower fromthe per- spectiveofeachauthor’s area of expertise, both rise abovetheir immediate contextto the level of well-writtencultural criticism.Thesetwo books stand as an eloquent testi- mony to the wayinwhichmany people in Japan have workedtodevelop away of critical thinking and adistinctive setofvaluessince March of 2011. Of the literaryessays that have appeared so far, themostimpressive is Haru o urandari wa shinai―Shinsai omegutte kangaetakoto [I Don’t Reproach theSpring: Thoughts on theEarthquake],49 asmall masterpiece of criticism by the author Natsuki Ikezawathatseems likely to surviveasone of theenduring literary documents of the catastrophe. Containinghis rage,the authorprovides alucid accountofhis visits to the devastated areas. Asense of deep empathy with thevictims’ plightruns through the work. As well as offeringprofound literary insights into theJapanese mind, this is a book of culturalcriticism underpinnedbythe author’s background in the natural sciences andsupportedbyhis keen sense of socialmission. Thetitle, incidentally, comes fromapoem by the Polishpoet Wisława Szymborska called “Parting with a View” (Pożegnanie widoku).The first lines continueasfollows:

46 Takahashi, Koi suru genpatsu [Nuclear Plant],p.203. 47 YoshitakaYamamoto, Fukushimanogenpatsujikoomegutte:Ikutsukamanabikangaetakoto [On the Nuclear Accident in Fukushima: Some Lessons and Thoughts] (Tokyo:Misuzu shobo, 2011). 48 Shin'ichi Nakazawa, Nihon no daitenkan [Japan’s Great Turning Point] (Tokyo:Shueisha, 2011). 49 NatsukiIkezawa, Haru ourandariwashinai―Shinsai omegutte kangaeta koto [I Don’t Reproach the Spring:Thoughts on theEarthquake] (Tokyo:Chuokoron shinsha, 2011). ShiftingBorders in Contemporary Japanese Literature 165 Idon’t reproach the spring for starting up again. Ican’tblameit for doing what it must year after year.50 The poem describes thepoet’s emotions as thefirst spring arrives after the deathofher husband. But for anyonereadingthe poem in post-disaster Japan, it is all butimpossible to see the lines as referring to anything other than thesituationinTohoku in thespring of 2012.Iprefertosee this notasamisreading,but rather as proof of the universal powerofliterature to outliveits original time and place and even acquire fresh meaning in anew context. Indeed,many works written years agohavegainednew meaninginthe days since 3/11. The most startling instance is Hiromi Kawakami’s“Kamisama 2011”[God BlessYou, 2011].51 The short story Kamisama was theauthor’s debutwork, andorigi- nally appeared in 1993.Itwas asweet,fairytale-like story in which thefirst-person protagonist goes hiking alongariver with abear who has recently moved into her apartment building.Shortly after thedisaster, Kawakami wrote anew version,trans- planting thestory to theworld after thenuclearaccident. Overall, there are no major changes to theplotorthe writing. Andyet everything feels utterly changed. Why? The reason is simple: In thenew version, almost everythingthatappears in the story, in- cludingthe river itself and thefish that live in it,has been contaminated by radiation. It is remarkable how the samewords take on entirely new connotations when they are set in aworld afterwhat thestoryrefers to only as “the incident.” Ihave touchedonanumber of early responses to thedisaster―butthe truth, of course,isthatliterature,and full-lengthnovels in particular, require alonger gestation period. It is stilltoo soon to evaluate thetendencies andachievements of post-3/11liter- ature. In time, more mature responseswill no doubtappear. Kenzaburo Oe’s In Late Style maybeaharbinger of what is to come.The first installment of the Nobel Prize winner’s latestnovel,which appearedinthe January 2012issue of Gunzo,makesclear thatOe, afterconsiderabledeliberation,has embarked on an attempt to wrestle with the question of what kind of writing is possibleinthe post-3/11era. Theworktakes on an unusualformat, consistingofthe author'sown notes interspersed with passages written by three femalefamily members. Although there is no wayofknowing how thestory willunfold, thefirst installment contains severaltantalizing allusionstoDante,quoting

50 Wisława Szymborska, Poems Newand Collected,trans. Stanislaw Baranczak andClare Cavanagh (San Diego/New York/London: Harcourt, Inc., 1998), p. 240.Ikezawa quotes these lines from the collection of Szymborska’s poetry: Owari to hajimari (Koniecipoczątek),trans.Mitsuyoshi Numano (Tokyo:Michitani, 1997), p. 47. 51 Hiromi Kawakami, Kamisama 2011 (Tokyo:Kodansha, 2011). For the Englishtranslation,see: Hiromi Kawakami, God Bless You, 2011,trans. Ted Goossen and Motoyuki Shibata, in: Elmar Luke and David Karashima, edd., Marchwas Made of Yarn. Reflections on the Japanese Earthquake,Tsunamiand Nuclear Meltdown (New York: Vintage Books, 2012), pp. 37–54. 166 Mitsuyoshi Numano the “future’s door” referred to in The DivineComedy.After adisaster of this scale,what kindoffuture can we anticipate, in our lives andinour literature?DrawingonDante’s words, this is thequestion that Oe seemstobeaskingofhimself―and of us.52 Surveying Japanese literatureafter3/11, Icould not refrain fromthe strange association that would tie these contemporary Japanese writers with émigré writers who try to survive asocial disaster by defectingtoanother country—thatis, another reality.Japanese literature is nowundergoing another process of bordercrossing: thetransitionfrom “before”to“after.” If world literature is, as Damrosch maintains, writing that gains in translation, we canalsotalkabout anew value being acquired by Japanese literature in the process of this border crossingimposed on it by the unprecedented catastrophe.

52 KenzaburoOe, “Bannen yoshikishu” [In Late Style], Gunzo 1(2012). Theserialization is still continuing (as of June 2013). JOACHIM KÜPPER Some Remarks on World Literature

Iwill start my deliberationsinarather personalway.Iwould like to give someinfor- mation on my genetic background. As far as Iwas told in my parents’ home, my family canbetracedbacktothe beginningofthe 19th century.Not oneofthe approximately sixty people that are among my knownancestors is fromthe placewhereIamliving now,namely Berlin.IfIdrew acircle with a500 kilometer radius aroundthe German capital, however, allthe places where my ancestors are fromwould be included in this area. Someofthem were fromSweden, afew fromPoland; thevastmajority,however, were fromwhatcould be subsumed under the (historically somewhatunstable) labelof “Germany.” If Icut off thesouthern third of this circle where none of them was from, the region comprises approximately 500,000square kilometers. Sincethe surface of our globe is roughly 500,000,000 squarekilometers, Icouldbereasonablydescribed as a firmly “rooted” person with astrongand indisputablelocal belonging. My ancestry did notbestowonmeone of these fashionable post-modern split identities, which areso pronetoinspirequestions of hybridity,belongingand identity.Iamsimply German, nothing else. Things aredifferent whenwemove fromgenes to memes, to cultural codes. My mother tongueisGerman. But when Iamaskedwhich text Iconsider the greatestepicI know of,myanswer wouldbe: the Iliad.And thesecondnarrativecommonly attributed to an author whom we areusedtocalling Homer, the Odyssey,isfor me the uncon- testedparadigm of all those narratives that do notrenderreality as it is (this wouldbe the case for the Iliad), butaswewish it to be. As for the genre of drama, thearchetypes Iwould nameare Oedipus by Sophocles and Iphigenia by Euripides. For the sub-genre of comedy,Iwouldmostprobably opt forthe Batrachoi (The Frogs)byAristophanes. When it comes to poetry,the only extantentire poem by awoman calledSappho1 sets, frommyperspective, the standardsfor this genre, whichfocuses on theexpression of our most intimate emotions.

1 Poetarum Lesbiorum Fragmenta,edd.Edgar Lobel and Denys Lionel Page (Oxford: Clarendon Press,1955), “Text Nr.1”, p. 2. 168 JoachimKüpper According to the mainstreamdiscourses on “roots” and “identity,” Ishouldprefer instead genre models that have their originsinthe regionthatIam fromand thatwere writtenbypeoplewithwhomIshare my ethnicity.There are not many texts extantfrom the pre-Medieval ageinCentral andNorthern Europe, but Iamquite familiar with the most important ones, the Nibelungenlied and the Edda,bothofwhich Ihavepublished on.2 Ihavetoconfess that Ifind them historically interesting, but aesthetically inferior, simply less “well wrought”thanthe epics mentioned above.And Idonot feelthatI have an emotionallinktothese texts. WhenIread them,myinterest is analytical,asare my findings. The Nibelungenlied,inthe versionthathas come down to us, is from my perspective aprecious document of the transitionbetween an oralculture and theage of script, andalsobetween polytheism and monotheism.What fascinates me aboutthe Edda are firstand foremost the numerous structural parallels Iimmediately detectwith regard to mythical stories from other traditionsknowntome, pre-Columbian Latin American,for instance. What Ijustoutlinedwithrespecttoliterary texts alsoapplies to texts we typically label “religious.”Iwas raisedasaChristian. My oedipalrevoltmade me abandonmy ancestors’ belieffor more than adecade, and it was my study of medievaland early modern literarytexts (Dante,Calderón), which then made me understandhow deeply Occidental culture is imbued with Christian concepts. IrealizedthatIwouldnot be able to do any serious scholarly work in thefield withoutamore profoundknowledge of this tradition. Istarted studyingthe most important texts, the Hebrew Bibleand theNew Testament,the writings of the Churchfathers andthe medieval and early modern theologians, andIwas fascinatedbythe intellectual depth of thesetexts as well as by their rhetoricalperfection. When someone asks me today about my religion, Iwould answer: IamChristian (not avery ferventone,though, and alittle bit more Protestant thanCatholic,alittle bitmoreCalvinistthanLutheran).Iam aware that thebelief Ifeel to be “my” religionisinnoway fromhere—not fromthe region Ibelongto, nor from the people with whom Ishare my genes. Itspre-concepts were first propagated, as far as we know,byaPharaohwhose only linktomylocal roots is thefact thatthe bustofhis beautiful wife Nefertiti has, since the nineteenth century,been one of the most precious exhibits of the finest museuminthe citywhere Ilive. After this Pharaoh’s death, his successors restored thetraditionalpolytheism. Iimagine Ikhnaton might have held that venerating great humans by erecting pyramids and thus elevating themtothe level of demi-gods is not agoodidea, in case there is only oneGod. It mayhave beenviews such as these that canexplainthe fact that thenew religion, whichwas officially abolished shortly after its emergence, went on flourishingamongst the slaves, who had to bear thehardfate of beingincharge of buildingthese pyramids. Anyway, one day huge numbers of these slavesran away. It is not quite clear how they succeeded to cross

2 JoachimKüpper, “TranszendenterHorizontund epische Wirkung. Zu Ilias, Odyssee, Aeneis, Chanson de Roland, El cantar de mío Cid und Nibelungenlied,” Poetica 40. 3–4 (2008), pp. 211–267. Some Remarks on World Literature 169 theRed Sea andtoescape into the desertofSinai.Theyhad astrong leader who told them that theone andonlyGod would protect them and lead them into apromised land. That is where they settled down. Theirstate or kingdomunderwent thevarying fortunes typicalofsmaller or medium-sized kingdoms in thatperiod. Several hundred years later, acharismatic unorthodox preacher emerged withinthiscommunity of former Egyptian slaves. Thereligious authoritieshad him executed by theRomans (who had gainedcontrol over the kingdom 70 years earlier). Buthis charisma was so strong that his disciples went on venerating him and propagatinghis preachings. Thewords ascribedtohim were then written down by HellenizedJews, andlater on they were systematized by Greeks andRomans. The most important amongst thelatterwas aman fromNorth Africa, from present-day Libya. In thefamousaccount he gives of hislife— the first autobiography in world literature—hespeaks briefly about ason he hadwho diedasachild.But according to whatelsehesays about his life as ayoung man, he mayhave hadfurther childrenofwhose existenceheneverknew. It cannot be ruledout that people like the late Gaddafi (or theleaderofthe anti- Gaddafi opposition movement) had or could have genetic links with this manwhomI consider to be thegreatesttheologian of “my” religion. Be this as it may, they have much closer genetic links to himthan Ido. In termsofgenes, my commonality with Augustinewillnot be more importantthanthe oneestablishedbythe fact that ourcom- monmother is Eve (orLucy, as modern sciencecalls her). According to our dominant discourses, Ishouldrather pray to Wotan and Odin,and not to this somewhat strange Egyptian-Jewish-Greek-Roman triune deity.But what I know aboutWotanand Odin just does not appeal to me,whereasthe long tradition of Christian theology andChristian art inspiresinmethe feeling of being on theterrain where Ibelong. Iwould like to make one further point. No lengthy explanations are required to state how this entireaesthetic andreligious culture that Iconsider to be “my” culture cameto the 500,000 square kilometers Imentioned above, that is,tothe placeassigned to “my” peoplefromthe dawning of history onward. Theoldest and—as far as Iam concerned—most appealing city in the region within this circle whereIwas born bears thenameofCologne, anamethat clearlydemonstratesits origins.Roughly two thousand years ago,the Romans colonized the westernpart of the circle mentioned,which means: they defeatedthe locals—myancestors in termsofgenes—bymilitary force, thatis, they killedthe menand the children, they raped the womenand then kept them for their pleasure, they destroyedthe villages, they then erected their strongholds and enforcedthe adoption of theirlanguageand their wayofliving. It is frequently ignored that this is notthe entirestory. Approximatelyfour hundred years after thisviolent conquest, theRoman Empire collapsed. It was conquered within afew decades by tribes fromNorthern Europewho were genetically very closetothe locals once defeatedbythe Romans. If the locals did not immediately throw off the yoke of Roman culture, this couldbeexplained by thefact thatafour hundredyear- 170 JoachimKüpper longprocess of colonizationand cultural imperialism had completely cut them off from their roots. Butthe really astonishing feature of this history is that theGermanic con- querors did notenforce theadoption of their traditionalculture. Rather, andwithina coupleofdecades, they adoptedthe culture of the defeated—quiteinthe sameway as the Romans, when they were at thezenith of theirpolitical andmilitary power, had adoptedthe culture of thedefeatedGreeks and the religion of an unorthodoxsect of the defeated Jews. What maywedistillfrom this panorama? Certainly not some stream-linedalgorithm, according to which culture wouldfunction. It is not always the casethat the militarily defeatedtriumph on the terrain of culture. Butmostimportantly,itdoesnot always seemtobethe case that the dominant cultureisthe culture of those whoare in power.3 The simplistic views derivedfromclassical Marxism—thatphysical power secures the dominance of those who once succeeded to gain controlover economic resources, and thatculture is nothing butasuper-structurethat“translates”physicalpower relations ontothe level of conceptual interaction—are not compatible withthe story Ibriefly outlined, thestory of the traditionweare usedtocallingOccidental. What is perhapsmoreimportant in an age whenMarxism is waning is thefactthat this story is hardly compatiblewith thebiologism that dominates our present-dayintel- lectualdebates.There is no systematiclinkbetweenethnicbelonging andculture, just as there is no systematiclinkbetween local belonging andculture.Wedohave many features in commonwith animals and plants, butwe, as humans, are ultimately different fromanimals and plants. What, then, if notethnicity and “rooting,” arethe factorsthatdetermineour cultural belonging? Iamafraid that Iwillnot be able to giveasatisfactory answer to this vital question. Thinking andre-thinking the problem againand againfor decades now,4 Ihaveaslight

3 This means that there are, of course, in human history, episodes which perfectly conform with the Marxistpattern.The implementation of OccidentalcultureinLatin America as well as in Indiais one important example, another one from the period discussed above is theHellenization of the entire Eastern Mediterranean which occurredasaconsequence of Alexander’s the Great military expansion.—Marx and Engels developedtheir theses in aperiod before the age of European imperialism.The postulates regarding the relation between cultural and physical or economic domi- nancemainly refer to theframe of specific national cultures.Itwas Lenin’stheoryof imperialism—absorbed into an all-encompassingedifice of thought called “Marxism” by Western leftist intellectuals from the seventies of the 20th century onward—which considers all of modern, in particular 20th centuryglobalhistoryasastrugglebetween “dominant” and“exploited” countries, wherethe patterns once developed by Marx to describe the class struggles within specific nationsdoapply. In asomewhat paradoxical move,the proletariatfromthe “dominant” countries thus becomes part of aglobal ruling class (if it does not adheretocommunism but is, rather, “bribed”bysocialdemocraticparties into accepting capitalism); consequently,evenpopularculture from “imperialist” (capitalist) countries would thus be partofthe hegemonic ideologicalstructure. 4 My most important publicationinthe fieldisthe essay:JoachimKüpper, “Kanon als Historiographie. Überlegungen im Anschluß an Nietzsches Unzeitgemäße Betrachtungen, Some Remarks on World Literature 171 tendencytomaintain thatour preferences(or,asIrathershouldsay:mypreferences, sinceall this is avery personal thing) are not primarily content-related. My understanding of “content” in this context is avery broad one. It encompassespatternsother- wise calledworld-views, ideologemes,all sorts of historical stuff. It is, indeed, striking, to which extent we arewilling to engage with contents totally alien to us in case they are presented in away that appeals to us. One of theessential points of theentire discussion at issue here seems to be thedescriptionofwhat we mean when we speakof aworkofart as being“well made.” Even if Western art andliterary history teachus thatsuchtechnical standards of the “well made” vary over time and across epochs,it remainstobediscussed to which extentthey vary,or, to putitanother way, whether thereare (or arenot) certainabstract principles underlyingall thevariations observable. Are thereevengeneralaesthetic standards, thatis, universal modes of what it means for something to be “well made” in the domain of music, of painting, of architecture,of literary texts,which wouldappeal to anyhuman being, regardlessofher or hisethnic belonging and cultural “roots”?Ivividly remember an afternoon and an eveningspent in Paris with acolleague andfriend of mine in thespring of last year. She was preparing at thetimeanexhibition in the Louvre of German paintingfrom the age of Classicism. We agreed to see each other in asmall restaurant overlooking thegardens of thePalais Royal, andafter alight meal we walked from there to theOpéra Bastille,wherewe attended aperformance of TheHuguenots by Giacomo Meyerbeer. The performance wasalright, butwould notbeworth recallingindetail.What maybeworth mentioning is the extremeaesthetic shockIfelt when, after seeing the wonderfulclassicistbuildings of thePalais Royal andthe Louvre complex, andafter the somewhat older architec- tonicalmarvelsofthe Marais, Iwas suddenlyconfrontedwiththisnow twenty year old, somewhat run downamorphous mass of metal andglass thatthe late Frenchpresident François Mitterrandhad hadbuilt in thecenter of Paris. Iwas familiar with thebuilding superficially sinceIhad passedbyitinmycar now and then, butIhad never been there before andhad never beforelookedatitasanartifactinitself. Iamnot at all sure that thisbuilding,aswell as the Glass Pyramiderectedinthe inner courtyard of the Louvre castle, will guarantee president Mitterrand thesameimmortality as the pyramids bestowed on theEgyptianPharaohs.--Theethnicroots of the friend with whom Ihad the pleasure to share my walk through Paris as wellasmyfeelings concerning the scenario, are non-European, as Ishouldperhaps add. Thequestionofpossible existing transcultural andtranshistorical, that is, universal aestheticstandards is even more virulent for the third oneofthe three great art forms. Is the enthusiasticreception of Western classical music in countries like Japan andKorea an instance of perfidious Occidental cultural imperialism? Andevenifitis, howare we to deal withthe fact that many musicians in theleadingWestern orchestras of our time, in NewYork,London, Vienna,Berlin, quitevisibly have agenetic endowment, which,

zweites Stück,” in:Maria Moog-Grünewald, ed., Kanon und Theorie (Heidelberg: Universitäts- verlag C. Winter, 1997),pp. 41–64. 172 JoachimKüpper according to themainstreamtheses of cultural studies,shouldmakethemfeel uncom- fortablewhendealing with artifacts fromcountries that hadoncebroken intotheir countries by military force or even conquered them and made theminto asort of demi- colony?The frequently heardcounter-argument: that these non-Western peoplewould only be capable of actinginareproductive, andnot in aproductive waywithinthe framesofWestern music seemstomesomewhat misled. What we are usedtocalling “classicalmusic” covers aproductive period from,roughly,the seventeenth to the twentiethcentury.Inthe historical cultural capitals of theWest,classicalmusic has become an almost exclusively reproductivephenomenonfromthe middle of the last century onward. As far as Isee,thereare stilltwo very important points for me to mention.The first pointconcernsthe question of to which extentthe spreadingofculturalartifacts beyond the territorial and ethnic boundaries of their creators is aone-way-street, if at all;the second pointrelates to thespecific question on whichthis volumeisfocused, that is literature as an art form that differs frommusic as well as frompainting, sculpture and architecture. As to the questionofthe one-way-street, Iwould like to refer to cultural history once more, that is, to ascenarioweare able to contemplate from amoretranquilperspective thanpresent-dayphenomena, sincethe civilizations we aredealingwithnolongerexist. As for Greeceand Rome,itwouldbeextremely difficulttomaintain that there was some sort of balancedcultural exchangebetween thetwo.Roman culture hardly existed before theadoption of theGreek models, and all those literary as well as philosophical textswritten in Latin, which later on had areceptionhistory in GreekorHellenicter- ritories,wereinspiredbyGreek models—which does not mean that they would, by necessity, be inferior in artistic value.Still,theyare dependentphenomena. Theonly point thatconfers some sort of “balance” upon thehistory of the ancient world is the already mentionedfact that,with respect to physical poweronthe one handand cultural poweronthe other, therelations of dominant anddominatedwere inverse. It cannot be ruled out that we are moving towardsaquite analogous constellation in the course of thepresent-day process of globalization. Thecenterofphysical power seemsto be moving to the East, and at the sametime, there is an adoption of Western cultural modes and models in the East, the rapidness and breadth of which is breath-taking. The discoursesofpoliticalcorrectness, however,require that one at least briefly discuss theproblem of possible reverse influences. It is afactthatsincethe endofthe nineteenth century,non-Western art has beenreceived enthusiastically in theWest (primarily sculptureand painting, butnot literature,which already brings me close to the second point stilltobediscussed). Andindeed, thesimilarities of certainpaintings by Picasso and some “primitive” Africanart exhibits in the Trocadéro museum,which the painter came in contact with when he traveled to Paris in 1900, are striking. But there would notbeany difficultytoexplain theartistic principles of these paintings by Picasso as amoreorless plausible resultofanevolutionary move away frommimetic Some Remarks on World Literature 173 representation, which, as regards Europeanpainting,set in during theperiod whenthe techniqueofphotographyemerged. In short: Ihaveaslight tendency to considerthe reception of non-Westernart in theWestduring the 20th century as an instanceofwhat I wouldcallthe “exotic fascination.” Sincethe ageofRomanticism,innovationand aestheticnovelty are the leadingparameters when it comes to defining what artis(in contrast to mere entertainment). Non-autochthonous, in other words exotic artifacts are, of course, always and by necessity an instanceofnovelty, and are immediately and enthusiasticallydubbedas“artifacts of outstandingvalue.” Buttheir influenceonthe evolution of Western art cannot be reasonably equated with thespreading of Occidental artifacts and cultural models,the pace of which—as it seems—dramatically accelerated after theend of the period of physical colonization. The second pointthatremains to be discussed is indubitably more difficult to tackle. Musicisextremely abstract, itslinks to local cultural, but non-artistic practices are rather vague.Inthe West, string instruments andflutesare of adifferent kindthanin othercultures,but thesedifferences cannot measure up to the differences between natural languages andevenlesstothe differences betweenideologemes, as, e.g. worldviewsorreligions.Musicdoesnot represent somethingwhich wouldhaveanexistence outsidethe world of music, or, if indeed it did, as, e.g.representing“emotions,”the itemsrepresentedwould be somewhatuniversal. To aminordegree this alsoapplies to representationalpaintingand sculpture. The basic structures of bodies (of plants, animals, humans) are the same all over theworld, whatisconsidered to be abeautiful (anaesthetically pleasing) structure varies within specific cultures over time, so that there is,inprinciple,noobstacletoarriving at an agreement as to what might constitute some sort of world art with respecttomusic andsculptureorthe finearts in general. Literature,however,is, as Ihavearguedinthe first part of my paper, so deeply im- buedwithspecific cultural patterns (worldviewsorreligions; conceptualizations of what ahuman being is;moral andbehavioral standards,etc., etc.) that it seemshardly possible to grasp themeaning or the“message” of agiven literary text andtoappreciate its aesthetic valuewithout being familiar with thecultural patterns that inform it. And whyshouldaperson raisedinthe Buddhisttraditiontake an interest in reading the Hebrew Bible,the NewTestament,the writings of Augustine andofThomas Aquinas (which is,according to thespecialists, the core canon one has to be familiar with in order to be able to read Dante’s Divine Comedy)? This person is perhaps happy within her or his “own”philosophical andreligious tradition,and it would thusbebest forher or himjust to ignorethe existenceofDante’s text.Or, to putitpolemically:incontrast to music and painting, if it is aboutliterature,all discussions aboutsomethinglikea world literaturemay be nothing else butstratagemsofamore or less astutely veiled attempt at ideological subversion andsubjugation. Iwould like to recount an anecdote frommydaily professionallifebefore Icometo some concluding remarks. At the DahlemHumanitiesCenter we invite outstanding scholars to givepapers within alectures series labeled DHC Lectures.Ofcourse,wedo 174 JoachimKüpper not invite people from the Western contextonly. Two or three years ago, Imet the Dean of ahighlyesteemedschool in Chinawhichisstrong in the Humanities, and we agreed to host three scholars fromthatschoolwithin our lecture series. Our Chinese partners were free to choose whom to send,and thechosencolleagues werefree to choose a topic. Oneofthe three gave apaper on Dante, andinthe course of thediscussion it turnedout that this manhad spentmorethan25years of his life producingaterza rima (that is, arhymed) translationofthe Divine Comedy in Mandarin, which is certainlynot an easy task. The translation was first publishedless thanayear before his visit to the Dahlem Humanities Center.Inthe courseofthisyear,the translation sold over two hundredthousandcopies. Thecountry, China, is huge, indeed,but on the other hand we havetoconsider thefactthatthe distribution of atextimbued with Christian viewsis certainlynot encouragedbythe authorities in thestillexisting People’s Republic of China. Thus, the figures Ijust gaveare amazing,and Iamnot sure thatthose who bought acopyofthe Divine Comedy in theChinesetranslation didsoinorder to learn more aboutanexoticreligionthatisstillnot free to proselytizeinthis country in the wayits founder mandatedthat this be done.What is it that ultimately attracts non- Occidental, non-Christian readers to receive atext that deals with thesystem of the sevencapital sins, withthe concept of alifeafter death, with astrangethird space called purgatory,withbeautiful womenre-appearing as spirits or angelsafter their death, with heathenslikeVirgil teaching lessons pertainingtoareligion they have never heard of, etc.,etc.?Instead of indulginginspeculations,Iwould liketogiveaquote from one of themostlucidtheoreticians of literature Ihaveever read, Jurij M. Lotman. In his now famous book The Structure of theArtistic Text5,hediscussesthe problem Iamdealing with by taking Tolstoij’s Anna Karenina as an example. Thus the plotofAnna Kareninareflects, on the one hand,acertainnarrow object—the lifeof theheroine,which we are fully capable of comparingwiththe livesofindividualswho surround us in everyday life.Thisobject,which has apropernameand all the other trappings of individuality, constitutes onlyapart of theuniverse reflected in art. […] [T]hissamesubject [plot] […]isareflection of another object which tends to expandwithoutlimit. We can regard thelifeofthe heroine as areflectionofthe life of anywoman belonging to acertain epoch and a certainsocialmilieu,[or as areflection of the lifeof] anywoman,[or of] anyperson[of any humanbeing].Otherwise thetragic vicissitudes of her life would onlybeofhistorical interest, and would simply be boring for areader farremoved from the special task of studying the life and manners of past epochs.6 Frommyperspective, this passageisnothing else than amoredetailed exposition of Aristotle’s definitionofthe literary textincontrast to both historiographical and

5 First print in Russian 1970. 6 JurijM.Lotman, TheStructureofthe ArtisticText,edd.Ladislav Matejka and Mark E. Suino, trans. Gail Lenhoff and Ronald Vroon (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan, 1977),p.211. Additionsinbrackets are mine. Some Remarks on World Literature 175 philosophical texts. The former, according to Aristotle in Poetics,chap. 97,dealwith “particulars” (“a‘particular’ means, say, what Alcibiades did or experienced”);assuch, they areofinterest only to readers who take an interest in the specific events recounted. Thelatter ones,accordingtoAristotle,conveymessages that are non-specific and abstract, thatis, “general”or“universal” (καθόλου). Literary texts—fictionalones,but also those withanauthentic substratum—are conceptually asort of hybrid,theyare “morephilosophical”(φιλοσοφώτερον)than historiographicaltexts.They narrate particular events, thatis, things clearly locatedinspaceand timeand relatedtoindividual persons. Buttheir message is,asAristotle argues, situatedonthe levelofthe καθόλου, they convey somethingmore general. Let me add just onethought to this argumentative string,which mayeven be my owncontribution to thedebate.8 In thecase of most of our literary texts, this “general” or “universal”level is notjust“there” as something that wouldhave been made explicitbythe author. It is rather adimensionimplementedby us as readers. Because whatshouldthe “meaning”ofaninvented story aboutpeople whonever factually existed be if notthe allegorical encodingofsomethingmore abstract,which becomes evident whentaking their fictional lives intoconsideration? Iwould like to concludebysaying that theabstractivemode—with regard to time, place andethnicity of its origin—whichcharacterizesmusic and paintings is not an empirically given factinthe case of literary texts. Butthe way we dealwith literary texts—to my knowledge,not only in theWest, butall over theworld—systematically implements this level of abstractioninthe process of reading,ofinterpretation.Or, to putitanother way: in contrasttowhatthe mere appearances—thedifference between natural languages and cultural codes—seem to teach us, there is,inprinciple, no obstacle to thecreation of acanon of world literature. The way we are used to dealing with literary texts is pronetosupersedingdifferences of time, of place, of cultural frames. Havingsaid this,Iwould be readytoconcedethatthere might be amorecontroversial discussion of my theses when it comes to agreeing on the concrete content of such a canonofworld literature.9

7 Aristotle, Poetics [ca. 335 BCE],ed. and trans. Stephen Halliwell (Cambridge/London: Harvard UniversityPress,2005),1451b,p.58–59. 8 Butmaybe Ireaditsomewhere andjust forgotthatthe ideaisnot “mine.” 9 This article was written in theframe of the research project EarlyModern European Drama and theCulturalNet funded by an advanced grantfromthe ERC.

NotesonContributors

Vilashini Cooppan is Associate Professor at the Department of Literature at the Univer- sity of California,Santa Cruz.She gained herPhD in Comparative Literature at Stanford University.Her publications include Worlds Within: National Narratives and Global Connections in Postcolonial Writing (2009);“Memory’s Future:Affect, History,and NewNarrative in SouthAfrica,”in: Concentric: Literary and Cultural Studies (35. 1, 2009); “Comparative Literature, World Literature, and the Revised Rise of the Novel,” in: Ameriquests:AComparative Journal of the Americas,(5. 1, 2008); “Affecting Politics: Postapartheid Fictionand the Limits of Trauma,” in: Ewald Mengel, and Michela Borzaga, edd., Trauma, Memory, and Narrative in theContemporary South African Novel:Essays (2012); “WorldLiterature betweenHistory and Theory,” in: David Damrosch, Theo D’Haenand Djelal Kadir, edd., The RoutledgeCompanion to World Literature (2011).

David Damrosch is Ernest Bernbaum Professor of Literature and Chair of theDepart- ment of Comparative Literature at Harvard University, and is apastpresident of the American Comparative Literature Association.His books include What Is World Literature? (2003), TheBuried Book: The Loss and Rediscoveryofthe Great Epic of Gilgamesh (2007), and HowtoReadWorld Literature (2009).Heisthe founding general editor of the six-volume Longman AnthologyofWorldLiterature (2nd ed.2009) and is also co-editor of The PrincetonSourcebook in Comparative Literature (2009), of Xinfangxiang:bijiao wenxue yu shijiewenxue duben [NewDirections: AReader of Comparative andWorld Literature](2010), and of The RoutledgeCompaniontoWorld Literature (2011).Heisthe foundingdirectorofthe Institute for World Literature (www.iwl.fas.harvard.edu).

Jérôme David is ProfessorofFrench Literature at the University of Geneva. His fieldsof study include the comparative history of literature as well as the social sciences andthe globalhistory of literature. He has published abook on the socialhistory of “novelistic types”innineteenth–century French literature entitled Balzac, une éthique de la 178 NotesonContributors description (2010); and,morerecently, Spectres de Goethe. Les métamorphoses de la ‘littératuremondiale’ (2011),onthe historyofthe aesthetic concept of “world literature” from Goethetothe present.

Ayman A. El-Desouky is Senior Lecturer in Modern Arabicand Comparative Literature and Chair of the Centre for Cultural, Literary and PostcolonialStudies (CCLPS) at theSchool of Oriental andAfrican Studies (SOAS), University of London. He studiedComparative Literature at the American University in Cairo andthe University of Texas at Austin. He haslectured on world literature and American literature at theUniversity of Texas at Austin (1993–1995) andonthe Arabiclanguage and literature at the JohnsHopkins University (1995–1996) andatHarvardUniversity (1996–2002). His most recent publications include “Heterologies of Revolutionary Action: On HistoricalConsciousness andthe SacredinMahfouz’s Childrenofthe Alley,” Journal of Postcolonial Writing (47. 4, 2011)and “Ego Eimi:Kerygmaor ExistentialMetaphor?Frye, Bultmann andthe ProblemofDemythologizing,” Revue Canadienne de LittératureComparée (34. 2, 2007). He is currently preparing the two short monographs QuestionsofUntranslatability: TowardaComparative Critical Method and ConnectiveAgencyand theAesthetics of theEgyptianRevolution,aswell as abook-length study entitled HermeneuticsofProclamationand SacredDiscourse in the Modern ArabicNovel forEdinburgh University Press.

IrmelaHijiya-Kirschnereit has beenProfessor of Japanology (Literature andCultural Studies) at Freie Universität Berlin since 1991, andinNovember2010becamedirector of the Friedrich Schlegel GraduateSchool of LiteraryStudiesatFreie Universität Berlin.Priortothis,she was Associate Professor for Japanese StudiesatHitotsubashi University,Tokyo(1985/86),and Professor for Contemporary Japanese Studies at Trier University from1986 to 1991. For eightyears(1996–2004) shewas director of the German Institute forJapaneseStudies (DIJ) in Tokyo, andin1992she wasawardedthe Gottfried-Wilhelm-Leibniz Award of the DeutscheForschungsgemeinschaft. Her research interests include modern and contemporary Japanese literature,comparative literature,sociology of language, cultural and literary semiotics, methodology,and the historyofJapanese Studies. She is the series editorofJapanische BibliothekimInsel Verlag (Japanese Library, Insel Publ., Frankfurt),34volumes(1990–2000), as wellas of IaponiaInsula:Studien zu Kultur undGesellschaft Japans (München: Iudicium Publ.), 25 volumesasof2010(1994–present). She has published numerous monographs, bookchapters,articles,and reviewsinGerman, Japanese,and English, including Rituals of Self-Revelation: Shishosetsu as Literary Genreand Socio-Cultural Phenomenon (1996) (Germanversion 1981, expanded ed. 2005; Japanese version 1992); ed.: Canonand Identity: Japanese Modernization Reconsidered: Trans-Cultural Perspectives (2000). NotesonContributors 179 Joachim Küpper is Professor of Romance Philology and Comparative Literature at Freie Universität Berlin. He is thedirector of the Dahlem Humanities CenteratFreie Universität Berlin andwas granted theGottfried-Wilhelm-LeibnizAward of the Deutsche Forschungsgemeinschaft in 2001. In 2009hereceived an AdvancedGrant from the EuropeanResearchCouncil. He is amemberofLeopoldina/German National Academy of Sciences andacorresponding member of the GoettingenAcademy of Sciences. His research focus is on Romance literatures and thetheoryofliterature and arts. Hisbooks include Ästhetik der Wirklichkeitsdarstellungund Evolution des Romans von der französischen Spätaufklärung biszuRobbe-Grillet (1987); Diskurs-Renovatio bei Lope de Vega undCalderón (1990); Petrarca. DasSchweigen derVeritas unddie Worte des Dichters (2002); ZumitalienischenRoman des 19.Jahrhunderts. Foscolo, Manzoni, Verga, D’Annunzio (2002).

Jane O. Newman is Professor of Comparative Literature at UC Irvine (USA), where she teaches Renaissance and Early Modern Comparative Studies. She is afounding member of the UC Irvine Group for the Study of EarlyCultures. Newman’s first twobooks, Pastoral Conventions (1990) and The Intervention of Philology (2000), discussthe German17th century;she hasalso published essayson16th and 17th centuryEnglish, German, and neo-Latin literature and culture and the disciplinary history of Renaissance and Baroque Studies. Benjamin’sLibrary:Modernity,Nation,and the Baroque appeared in Fall 2011. Newmanhas held Humboldt and Guggenheimfellowships, and was a Fulbright Senior Scholar in Berlin, Germany in 2010–2011, where she continued work on “The Baroque State: EarlyModern Lessons for aPost-WestphalianAge” and “Poetical Theology:Erich Auerbachand the Origins of World Literature.” Her translation of a collection of ErichAuerbach’s essaysisforthcoming fromPrinceton UniversityPress.

Mitsuyoshi Numano wasborn in Tokyoin1954. He is currently Professor of Slavic Languages and Literatures, and Chair of the Department of Contemporary Literary Studies in theGraduateSchoolofHumanities andSociology at theUniversity of To- kyo. He is alsoactiveasaliterary critic,and is aregular contributor to themajornews- papers “MainichiShimbun” and“TokyoShimbun.” He has translatedintoJapanese authors suchasNabokov,Okudjava, Brodsky,Dovlatov, Tolstaya, Chekhov, Kundera, Lem, Szmboska, Kolakowski, andMilosz, andhas writtennumerous articlesonRus- sian,Polish,and Japanese literature. He hasalsowritten more thanten books,including On Literature in Exile (2002, Suntory Award), On Utopian Literature (2003, Yomiuri Literary Prize), The Age of W-Literature: Contemporary Japanese LiteratureGoing Across Its Borders (2005), and TheWorld is Made of Literature (2011).

C. Rajendran is Dean of theFaculty of Languages at the University of Calicut, andhas been ProfessorofSanskritatthe UniversityofCalicut since 1990. He has done work in 180 NotesonContributors the fields of aesthetics,theatre,philosophy, linguistics,and comparativeliterature. His thesis on medieval Sanskrit poetics, entitled AStudy of Mahimabhatta’s Vyaktiviveka,has been acknowledged as asignificant contribution to studies in Indian literary theory.His other noted publications in English include Studies in ComparativePoetics; The Tradi- tional Sanskrit TheatreofKerala; Sign andStructure; Abhinayadarpana; Melputtur Na- rayana Bhatta; Kuntaka and Understanding Tradition.Edited works include TheLiving Traditions of Natyashastra; Contemporary ApproachestoIndianPhilosophy; Aspects of Paninian Semantics; CurrentReadingsinArthasastra and Narratology—Indian Perspec- tives. He is the recipient of the Ramakrishna SanskritAward foroutstanding contributions in teaching andresearch, issued by the Canadian World Education Foundation. His books Pathavum Porulum and Saundaryasastram won the Kerala Sahitya Akademi Award for literary criticism and the G. N. Pillai Endowment Award for informaticsliterature respectively.Hereceivedthe M. S. MenonAward for literary criticism for hiswork Taratamy- asaundaryasastram,and the IC Chacko Endowment Award forhis work on hermeneutics, entitled Vyakhyanasastram.

RobertJ.C.Young is Julius SilverProfessor of English and Comparative Literature at NewYorkUniversity. From1989–2005 he was ProfessorofEnglish and CriticalTheory at Oxford University, and afellow of Wadham College. He earned hisB.A., M.A.,and D.Phil.degrees in English fromExeter College, OxfordUniversity. His books include WhiteMythologies: Writing History and the West (1990); Colonial Desire: Hybridityin Culture, Theoryand Race (1995); TornHalves: PoliticalConflictinLiteracyand CulturalTheory (1996); Postcolonialism: An HistoricalIntroduction (2001); Postcolonialism: AVery Short Introduction (2003); The Idea of English Ethnicity (2008). He is also theeditor of Interventions: InternationalJournal of Postcolonial Studies and was afounding editor of The Oxford Literary Review.RobertYoung haslecturedinover 30 countries, andhis work hasbeentranslatedintoover20languages.