This chapter explores the reception of David Hume’s Essays in eighteenth-century Britain by linking computational methods of text reuse detection with more traditional approaches to the history of ideas. We find that many of Hume’s essays were frequently reprinted individually, in whole and in part, including in anthologies, grammars, style guides, and collections such as The Philosophical Dictionary, where editors often moulded for their readers what they took Hume’s message to be. As the century drew to a close, Hume’s essays were firmly integrated into the diverse landscape of eighteenth-century British literary culture. We reveal which essays underwent the most extensive reuse, carefully analysing them based on their respective collections and as individual titles. We find that, just because Hume ‘withdrew’ an essay from his collection, it did not necessarily mean it was withdrawn from the public eye. Several essays by Hume experienced evolving life cycles, and numerous authors incorporated his texts discreetly, some without explicitly acknowledging their use. Taking Hume’s essays as a whole, the range of topics and venues involved in the history of their eighteenth-century reuses is striking. Our story includes not only prominent political and economic thinkers, historians, philosophers, lawyers and clergy but also scores of hack writers, anonymous authors and a range of publishers, editors and compilers. The chapter demonstrates how a more comprehensive grasp of the reception of Hume’s Essays in eighteenth-century Britain accommodates all these facets.

Chapter 5 details the workings of social estates of eighteenth-century Germany. Many of Goethe’s works of prose and drama either directly depict his own society, or transpose significant features of that social world to a different historical setting. The chapter highlights the differences in the social organisation of rural areas on the one hand, and of towns and cities on the other. Further, it distinguishes between the social structure of Frankfurt, Goethe’s birthplace and a large city, and Weimar, a small residence town with the duke at the top of its hierarchy.

Chapter 4 introduces the official duties that Goethe carried out in Weimar, from his membership of the Privy Council, to the various commissions (such as mining) for which he was responsible, to his leadership of the Weimar court theatre. It also explains the significance of civil service for middle-class men in Goethe’s time. Finally, the chapter reflects on the connections between Goethe’s work as a civil servant and his pursuits in the areas of literature and science, emphasising, at the same time, that these connections are often far from straightforward.

Chapter 6 explores the impact of the French Revolution on Goethe and examines the development in his responses, especially as reflected in the literary works he composed between 1789 and 1797. Goethe was horrified by the violence of 1789 and its aftermath; at the same time, he was critical of the French elites, and saw their fate as a warning to their German counterparts. This chapter highlights the ambivalence of his attitudes and aligns him with the reform conservatives, who favoured the maintenance of privileges but also reform from above.

This chapter attempts a taxonomy of the metaphors in Daphnis and Chloe under the heads symptoms and concomitants of desire (where Longus’ metaphors situate his writing unambiguously in the Greek literature of ἔρως, ‘desire’); desire in society; anthropomorphisation of the inanimate and of animals; body-parts with a mind of their own; literary and meta-literary activity; and the world of learning.

Mapping Roberto Bolaño’s worlds, “literary” and “non-literary” alike, invites the work of many hands. In that collaborative spirit, conceived and organized in four parts – “Geographical, Social, and Historical Contexts,” “Shaping Events and Literary History,” “Genres, Discourses, Media,” and “Aesthetics, Culture, and Politics” – the twenty-nine essays that follow bring together the work of a distinguished group of scholars representing a range of disciplines. The volume itself is thus a nexus of many overlapping worlds, of locations and perspectives aligned and divergent, a site to encourage conversations about Bolaño’s work for generations to come, to 2666 and beyond.

The Introduction to this book establishes Faulkner’s interest in writing materials as both a theme in his work and in his own writing and publishing career. Faulkner began his career not as a fiction writer but as a poet and illustrator, making his own handmade books, some for sale and others for friends and love interests. He maintained this attention throughout his life to the physical forms taken by his books. The Introduction sets forth the stakes of the book as a whole. Over and against a persistent technological determinism in cultural and media studies, William Faulkner and the Materials of Writing shows how Faulkner can help us think through the way in which media can only be understood in the context of its use. The telegraph, for example, works no faster than the mail if a telegram is not delivered to the intended recipient or otherwise goes unread. The Introduction also introduces three broad sets of concerns that will be central in the chapters that follow: The relationship of the individual to media forms; the connections of media with race, gender, and intimacy; and an understanding of writing as both text and thing in the world.

This chapter discusses the dynamics between Black artists and white patrons during the Harlem Renaissance told through the turbulent relationship between Langston Hughes and his literary “Godmother,” Charlotte Osgood Mason. The chapter begins with a discussion of Hughes’s groundbreaking 1926 essay, “The Negro Artist and the Racial Mountain,” and explores the complex connection between the independent spirit of the sentiments expressed in that essay to the deeper acknowledgment of the perennial pressures exerted by white literary gatekeepers and Black artists that dominate some of his later work, particularly his 1934 short story collection, The Ways of White Folks.

This chapter reviews how literary and literal atmospheres have cut across each other in complex transactions of meaning and practice over the past 400 years. It traces how atmosphere was first literalised in early modern science, in a process that identified air as a new object of empirical knowledge while also awarding a new meaning of empirical objectivity to literalness. It then shows how this scientifically literal atmosphere was taken up in an expanded set of metaphoric and figurative uses from around 1800, in which such formulations as ‘political atmosphere’ and ‘poetic atmosphere’ breathed new life into traditional understandings of air that had moved fluidly between the spiritual and the empirical. The large-scale cultural re-metaphoricisation of air in this period formed the platform for the emergence of literary atmosphere as a specific practice of double troping, in which aerial figures were reflexively marked as at once figurative and literal. That marking proved integral to the emergence of both modernist poetry and the modern novel. But the discursive divisions and oppositions that underwrote it are brought under unprecedented pressure by climate change, which therefore requires new methods for the writing and reading of literary atmospheres.

This essay explores the intersection of religion and literature in sermons and lectures during the British Romantic period. The essay traces the advance of elocutionary advice in eighteenth- and early nineteenth-century literature and demonstrates how interest in orality proliferated the printing of both sermons and lectures on religious themes. In addition to noted figures such as S. T. Coleridge, William Hazlitt, and Edward Irving, women’s voices emerged during the time, as women in dissenting religious circles set the stage for the first public lectures by women in Britain.

Why speak of ‘reception’ in classical antiquity, rather than ‘allusion’ or ‘intertextuality’? This chapter begins by assessing the reasons for the emergence of the term reception in the scholarship of the last thirty years, identifying (a) a shift away from unilateral models of ‘influence’; (b) a postmodern promotion of the status of the ‘copy’; (c) a pedagogical need for multiplication of access points into the ancient world. But the idea of ‘reception’ has been applied primarily to post-antique cultures: why? Speaking of reception helps us break down the idea that antiquity itself was sealed off from later cultures, and that it was a homogeneous monoculture through which a single, cohesive tradition ran. It puts the emphasis on discontinuity, and the specificity and idiosyncrasy of each act of receiving; such acts can therefore be understood as ‘theorisations’ of the idea of tradition. This approach to literary history creates an equivalence between all receptions, however apparently ‘central’ or ‘marginal’. It also spotlights the political embeddedness and materiality of each act of reception. The chapter closes by considering how the volume’s contributions further this agenda.

The Preface briefly discusses and qualifies basic vocabulary central to the topic of the book, including the terms “medieval,” “classical,” “Arabic,” “literary,” “poetic,” “eloquent,” “literature,” “poetics,” “rhetoric,” “theory,” and “criticism.”

This essay covers several literary aspects of the Catalogue of Ships in Book 2, including its structure and organization, its inconsistencies and problems, and its role in the poem.

Certain key themes, subjects and texts were considered to constitute a crucial educational foundation for an individual aspiring to achieve success in the court societies of the Persian Cosmopolis. This chapter argues that the character of this general education was deliberately ‘cosmopolitan’: based on a widely agreed canon of texts, both literary and scientific, whose importance was recognised across the Persian Cosmopolis. Rather than mere knowledge acquisition, the aim of this education was the formation of a specific type of disposition: a particular orientation towards the court society and towards the self. Underlying the external traits of this courtly disposition was a widely shared medico-philosophical understanding of the connections between mind, body and soul and the way in which the perfection of one, presupposed the engagement of the others. The implication of the body in the acquisition of knowledge and the perfection of the soul provides the rationale for directing attention to bodily practices and the influences of objects on bodies, a theme that recurs throughout this book.

Certain key themes, subjects and texts were considered to constitute a crucial educational foundation for an individual aspiring to achieve success in the court societies of the Persian Cosmopolis. This chapter argues that the character of this general education was deliberately ‘cosmopolitan’: based on a widely agreed canon of texts, both literary and scientific, whose importance was recognised across the Persian Cosmopolis. Rather than mere knowledge acquisition, the aim of this education was the formation of a specific type of disposition: a particular orientation towards the court society and towards the self. Underlying the external traits of this courtly disposition was a widely shared medico-philosophical understanding of the connections between mind, body and soul and the way in which the perfection of one, presupposed the engagement of the others. The implication of the body in the acquisition of knowledge and the perfection of the soul provides the rationale for directing attention to bodily practices and the influences of objects on bodies, a theme that recurs throughout this book.