The enduring influence of Mao Zedong’s classicist poetry worldwide is a fascinating phenomenon, especially because this ostensibly conservative genre is marginalized in institutionalized modern Chinese literature. This article examines a curious case of fake Mao poems that enjoyed supreme ideological authority during the Cultural Revolution. By tracing the cultural policies of the Chinese Communist Party toward the Chinese literary legacy, I argue that revolutionary classicism was the logical offspring of revolutionary nationalism when literati and folk traditions were mobilized to serve a totalitarian cause; that the institutionalized lyric voice of Chairman Mao was collectively created and appropriated; that classicist poetry, combining sounds, words, and imagery, was the chosen medium for the masses to create an intimate relationship with the purported inner subjectivity of the chairman; and that, by ventriloquizing this voice, the Chinese revolution was finally embodied. Classicist poetry thus represents a neglected aspect of Chinese literary modernity and nation building.

This article uncovers the fractured and conflicting understandings of sex and gender in early medieval England around the year 1000 CE by exploring the Old English literary biographies of two saints often presented as women disguised as men. Ælfric’s Eugenia upholds binary gender expectations, while an alternative version of Eugenia—changed by a scribe and surviving in the burned remains of a single manuscript—oscillates between acceptance and intolerance. The anonymous Euphrosyne, in contrast, challenges gender norms throughout. This article argues that these characters and the texts’ competing views on sex and gender can be best understood by recognizing these two saints not as women in disguise but as trans men. A trans studies approach combined with philology and source study respects these two figures on their own terms while also uncovering elements of these texts and their cultural context that usually lie obscured.

Decapitation has captivated artists and writers since antiquity and has been generously theorized, notably in a European framework. As a less analyzed trope of plantation fiction, decapitation conjures both the torture and the revenge of the enslaved. The French Caribbean literary tradition, emerging in the shadow of the French and the Haitian revolutions, is especially haunted by the severed head. Beyond the revolutionary context, decapitation represents crisis—a threat to the plantationocene. Victor Séjour's “Le mulâtre” (1837), Henri Micaux's De nègres et de békés (2011), and Raphaël Confiant's Bal masqué à Békéland (2013)—published more than 175 years after Séjour's short story—cohere in the castrative associations of (white paternal) decapitation. Maryse Condé's Célanire cou-coupé (2000), in contrast, stages a picaresque parody of this Freudian paradigm; this story of recapitation and female survival is fundamentally enabled by the nomadic novel's departure from the plantation and the overdetermined associations imposed by that chronotope.