This chapter explores three key ways that epic has expressed a sense of temporality. The first is foundational: epic uses genealogy to express the structure of things, through aetiologies and causations and the preserving function of memory. Goldhill shows how this sense of foundational time can be enacted through cosmology, in Hesiod’s Theogony, through social structures, in Hesiod’s Works and Days, and on a political plain, as in Vergil’s Aeneid or Lucan’s Pharsalia. The second is narratological and thematic: epics make time a subject of their narrative, through the centralisation of delay within the heroic mission (as in the Iliad, Odyssey and Aeneid), and even through making time itself a character, as Nonnus does in his Dionysiaca. The third is poetic: how epic marks its awareness of its place in tradition. As shown most strikingly by works like Quintus’ Posthomerica and Eudocia’s Martyrdom of St Cyprian, epic inhabits its own moment whilst forging connections with previous epics and looking ahead to posterity. Using these three vectors, Goldhill explores the ancient epic tradition on a broad scale in a way that grounds the next two chapters in this section.

Literary historians generally explain change by narrating it. Narrative history excels at identifying individual events, authors, and works that exemplify transformations of literary culture. On the other hand, narrative often struggles to represent continuous trends. Since numbers are designed to describe differences of magnitude, quantitative methods can trace a curve and give a more nuanced picture of gradual change. As quantitative methods have become more common in literary studies, it has become clear that many important aspects of literary history are in fact gradual processes extending over relatively long timelines. But there have also, certainly, been moments of rapid change – in some cases initiated by a single book or author. More crucially, readers seem to want the kind of meaning produced by narration. Thus, quantitative methods are never likely to entirely replace a periodized narrative; they merely provide an alternative mode of description.

Fictive Spartan colonies were so numerous in antiquity that modern scholars rarely want to have anything to do with the question of their historicity. This approach may be safe but is not always wise. Whereas obvious inventions of Spartan kinship should be excluded, questions about the possibility of Spartan colonization are legitimate, at least for the Archaic and Classical periods. The fact, for example, that in the Hellenistic period the Jews claimed kinship with the Spartans or that cities in Asia Minor such as Selge, Alabanda, and Synnada considered themselves Spartan colonies, is an excellent topic for the study of late attitudes, but such patently fictive Spartan kinships teach us very little about the Archaic and Classical reputation of Sparta as the mother city of cities such as Melos or Thera. With the latter it is at least legitimate to examine the possible factual basis of this reputation. Whether such cities were once in fact Spartan colonies is irrelevant to the study of attitudes to Spartan colonization in the Archaic and Classical periods. If, however, there were a kernel of truth in a claim such as that of Melos that Sparta was its mother city, it might clarify how that claim came into being and especially how it was sustained.

This chapter decouples queerness from whiteness, and modernism from its period origins, arguing that queer-of-color modernists like Nella Larsen, Richard Bruce Nugent, and Matthew Lopez transform the coordinates of queerness and modernism through their misfit intersections of identity, also extending the timeframe for modernist aesthetics through a queer genealogy that extends backwards (as in Lopez’s The Inheritance, which features E.M. Forster) and forwards (as in Larsen’s Passing and its intersectional queer subtext, cinematically adapted by Rebecca Hall in 2021).

This chapter proposes a queer-crip genealogy in American poetry stretching from Emily Dickinson and Walt Whitman in the nineteenth century to the present day. Through close readings of poems by twentieth-century poets Adrienne Rich and Audre Lorde and twenty-first century poets Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha and Kay Ulanday Barrett, a queer disability poetics can be discerned and analyzed. This poetics is deeply concerned with identity, community, intersectionality, and resistance, and is characterized by themes of sexuality, witness, survival, and joy. Throughout this chapter, “crip poetics” is deployed not merely as a descriptor but as an analytic lens applied to poems that have been previously read primarily through understandings of disability as metaphor, alienation, or lack. Crip poetics instead reveals how disability can function as a source of connection, sustenance, and transformation in these poets’ work and in their worlds.

Chapter 3 analyses the normativity of sustainable development in international law and politics as expressed beyond the questions on its present (domestic) manifestations or the endless struggle to place the concept within general legal (normative) registers. It highlights how international law tends to subordinate non-Western experiences in its elevation of sustainable development into a global standard. What emerges from this process is that the more the world pursues sustainable development in its current form, the more we unwittingly contribute to the global dissemination of a particular strand of Eurocentrism. Sustainable development thus reveals itself as an amalgam of power and knowledge while simultaneously establishing itself as a vital component in international legal governance. What emerges in this chapter is that, although the concept of sustainable development is always at the forefront of international public discourse, little is done, in fact, to achieve its presumed objectives. Thus, while sustainable development’s quick ascent to become a universalist concept is central to this book, the concept’s character must be understood as quietly operating to mute global ecological violence that disproportionately affects marginalised peoples in the Global South.

This chapter frames the interpretive regime of modern international law as a historical contingency and aims to trace its genealogy through an analysis of the codification process that led to the current regime. The contingency of the rules of treaty interpretation is hardly recognized in the official discourse. Treated as a matter of common sense or trans-historical customary international law, the rules of treaty interpretation set forth in the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties have for instance been applied to the interpretation of treaties dating back to the nineteenth century and a whole range of treaties concluded in the twentieth century before the entry into force of the Vienna Convention. There is, however, ample evidence that the interpretive approach of the Vienna Convention has by no means prevailed throughout the history of international law. This chapter identifies a series of factors ranging from the intellectual history of the discipline of international law and the contingencies of the codification process, to the political circumstances of the Cold War era and the rise of permanent international tribunals that can account for the normative outcome of the Vienna Convention regime.

This chapter discusses the question of the plurality of historical genres practiced by historians, and their function as a galvanizer of the classics. I proceed first (‘Taxonomies’) by analyzing the theories, definitions, and taxonomies of historical genres developed by ancient scholars such as Cicero and Dionysius to the modern taxonomical project by twentieth century scholars. In the second section (‘Developments’), I provide a brief history of the development of historical genres over time, focusing especially on the moment of their emergence, from ancient and medieval ethnographies, biographies, genealogies, and chronicles to modern monographs and papers. In the last section (‘Reappraisals’), I combine the premodern and modern approaches described in the first two sections, assuming postmodern theories to apply them to the discernment of the classic and the canon in history/historiography. To conclude, I propose an ethical purpose that make historians more attentive to the new developments and possibilities of historical genres, to better adapt the historical form to its content, making it compatible with respect and appreciation for the classics of the discipline. A more comprehensive and flexible approach to historical genres may facilitate the task of those who envisage a more creative and innovative historical writing and production.

The introduction of the book provides the heuristic, analytical, and methodological keys for the interpretation of the concepts of the classic and the canon in historiography. It details the interdisciplinary approach that has made this study possible, blending literary criticism, the critical analysis of historical texts, the theory of history, the history of historiography, hermeneutic philosophy, sociology, and biblical studies. It exposes the difficulties presented by the analysis of historiographical categories such as the classic and the canon, which privilege stability over instability and permanence over change. Finally, it lists the main primary sources used and synthesizes the content of each of the five chapters of the book, each of them dedicated to the main concepts analyzed: durability, classic, canon, genre, and genealogy.

For much of history, from the dawn of Greek historiography to the postmodern 1970s, genealogy has been synonymous with continuity of origins and blood identity, and therefore closely connected with the concepts of the classic and the canon. Yet, during the last half century, specially thanks to the Nietzschean and Foucauldian philosophical deployment, it has shed its narrative garb to become an agent of discontinuity, and thus the nemesis of the classic and the canon. Many scholars have analyzed the modern development of genealogies after Nietzsche’s alleged foundational statement and its Foucauldian reception. But none of them has provided a systematic history of the trajectory of this concept, from antiquity to the present. This chapter attempts to fill this gap by providing a history of the concept of genealogy and its associated ideas, delving specifically into its historiographical uses, and connecting it to the four previous concepts discussed in the book. I will, specifically, emphasize its polysemy, try to locate what has remained and what has changed in this long trajectory, and explain the (only recently) radically opposed nature (nemesis) between the concepts of genealogy and canon – and the implications that this opposition brings to historiography.

● Pheneticism, evolutionary taxonomy, and cladistics are competing taxonomic philosophies; they disagree about how the classification of a group of organisms and the genealogies of those organisms are related. The cladistic approach is defended. ● It is widely agreed that it is a matter of convention whether a set of species should be placed into a single genus or into more than one. The point generalizes – superspecific taxonomic rank is a matter of convention. ● It is a separate question whether it is conventional matter whether a set of organisms comprises one species rather than several. ● The view is defended that biological taxa are spatio-temporally extended physical objects; they are “individuals,” not natural kinds. ● The question is explored of whether human races are biologically real. ● Cladistic parsimony is explained; it is a method for inferring phylogenies that differs from the method of maximum likelihood. ● The question is raised as to whether parsimony should be evaluated by using the law of likelihood; an alternative is explored – that both methods should be evaluated by seeing whether they are statistically consistent.

This chapter looks at how Victorians constructed a genealogical relation to antiquity and the Bible, forming both as a cultural, intellectual and spiritual origin for modernity. It shows how philology was the discipline which linked theology and classics as disciplines, and how historiography and archaeology were mobilized to understand the present as the outcome of the past. In particular, it looks at how William Gladstone, Matthew Arnold, Brooke Foss Westcott, Charles Kingsley, and Henry Montagu Butle, used translation, Homeric studies, historical fiction and cultural history to forge a contentious and contested relation between the biblical and classical pasts and modernity.