This chapter investigates the crucial significance of Lucian for early modern Italian literature and culture. From the late fourteenth century, Lucian’s writings were employed by Italian humanists to learn Greek and contributed considerably towards sparking a remarkable interest in the ancient Greek-speaking world. From Italy, Lucian’s fame travelled to the rest of Europe. During the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, Lucian’s fictional dialogues and paradoxical encomia deeply informed the oeuvre of many prominent writers, among them Leon Battista Alberti, Erasmus of Rotterdam, and Lodovico Ariosto. Moreover, this study aims to shed light on the variety of different roles played by Lucian within the Renaissance. By taking into account unexplored matters, such as the impact of vernacular translations, it is possible to distinguish between a ‘didactic-moral’, a ‘useful and delightful’, and a ‘heterodox-heretical’ understanding of Lucian in early modern Italy. On the one hand, such differentiation allows to finesse the connections between the reception of his oeuvre and the political, cultural, as well as religious transformations of that time (e.g. the printing revolution and the Counter-Reformation). On the other hand, it shows that some features of Lucian’s poetics – especially humour, satire, and parrhesia – acted throughout the Renaissance as frameworks that influenced the early modern comprehension of fundamental issues, such as literary imitation and fictionality.

The period c.1780–c.1830, covered by this book, was a high point in the ‘fruitful age of musical translations’ (Beethoven). This trend was driven partly by the social and political circumstances, which made private and semi-private music-making particularly feasible and appealing, creating a demand for chamber music that was within the reach of the enthusiastic amateur. But the vogue for arrangements was also a function of the music publishing trade and its governance (or lack of it) around 1800. This chapter explores the vogue for opera in Vienna from the perspectives of composers, then through the lens of publishers’ catalogues, considering which types of opera and which composers were most liked, and how opera (in various ‘musical translations’) infiltrated into Viennese homes around 1800.

This chapter will discuss a Latin translation of an Arabic text on the pharmacological uses of the individual body parts of animals. De sexaginta animalibus is placed in the context of its original Arabic genre of works on the useful or occult virtues of animals, minerals, and plants. This is the first detailed scholarly treatment of this text, which has been mentioned in passing by other scholars. It argues that it is a translation of a work on the properties of the body parts of animals by the eleventh-century physician ʿUbaydallāh ibn Bukhtīshūʿ, by comparing the text with the manāfiʿ (usefulness) section from an Arabic Ibn Bukhtīshūʿ bestiary. Other issues covered include the copious use of transliterated Arabic terminology, particularly in regard to the names of the numerous animals themselves and confusion in their identification, the order of the animals (which aids identification of partial copies of the manuscript), cited authorities, and ascribed authorship. The chapter also argues for the existence of two recensions of the text in the manuscript tradition, with a comparison of an entry found in both recensions with the Ibn Bukhtīshūʿ text and ʿĪsā ibn ʿAlī’s Book on the Useful Properties of Animal Parts.

This chapter presents some of the most significant studies in the history of intercultural pragmatics (IP) research that have applied the methodology of corpus pragmatics (CP). In fact, the use of corpora has been an essential contribution to IP in crucial areas such as formulaic language, context and common ground, or politeness research, among others, with the conviction that CP has redefined the conceptualization of pragmatic competence in a globalized world. The chapter follows a topical structure in which critical areas of research from an intercultural and corpus pragmatic perspective are addressed, like the role of the lingua franca; the use of academic, professional, and scientific language; cross-cultural studies; prosody, multimodality, and computer-mediated communication and learner's corpora. In all these areas, the chapter highlights the significant research concerns and achievements that have helped to shape IP as an essential discipline in current linguistic theory. A final section with conclusions and ideas for further research will ensue.

Chapter 10 studies the broad contours of Plutarch’s place in political argument in English and Irish thinkers of the later seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries. This includes the significance of the translation headed by John Dryden (1631–1700) and the work of Jonathan Swift (1667–1745).

This chapter analyses the position of crime fiction in the global publishing industry. Drawing on bestseller data from nine countries across all continents, it confirms that crime fiction is prominent in the commercial top segment everywhere, but to varying degrees. The genre is most dominant in countries with strong domestic crime fiction traditions, such as the UK and the USA, and least visible in non-Western markets (e.g. Brazil and India). Data from the UK and the USA show very few bestselling crime novels in translation, unlike other book markets where bestselling translations are more common – primarily translations from English, but to a notable extent also from the Scandinavian languages. Discussion focusses on the power dynamics of global publishing, the increasingly important sector of rights sales and adaptations, author branding and serialization, and the rapid structural changes that are currently taking place in the book trade, including the increased interest in digital formats like streamed audiobooks.

Translation was often an extended arm of writing commentaries in the Indian Ocean littoral. In the eighteenth to the twentieth centuries, translating Shāfiʿī texts gave many jurists the best ways to vernacularise Islam and its laws, while for many others it provided a tool to understand the laws of the people their states had subjugated. There were similarities as much as differences among these two streams. Processes of cultural translations united the two, while vernacularisation and colonisation divided them. This chapter identifies four stages of translations that advanced the Shāfiʿī textual longue durée: two Afrasian and two European. It demonstrates their nuances in and around the Indian Ocean in an integrated perspective in which Asian, African and European fuqahā estates appear as interpreters, translators and colonisers to meet their specific needs and necessities of their audience, state, language and law. This chapter takes all the major texts we have discussed in the book to analyse the contemporaneous processes of translations in Afro-Eurasian terrains.

The chapter will dwell on the history of translation, teaching and reception of Ralph Ellison’s works in the USSR and post-Soviet countries and on the curious fact of Ralph Ellison’s “invisibility” there: his masterpiece, Invisible Man, still remains untranslated – and yet studied – in Russia and other formerly Soviet states. Soviet/post-Soviet Ellisoniana includes several editions of Ellison’s short stories and chapters, and a dozen critical studies. Trying to explain this paradox, one has to turn to the characteristics of Soviet editing policy and of the post-Soviet “literary field,” including economics of literature, university teaching practices, literary criticism, academic research, and the way these factors shaped Ellison’s image.

This essay is a narrative of my work on Elizabeth Bishop, beginning with my Ph.D. dissertation (1976) and detailing my choices in the three landmark volumes I edited: Elizabeth Bishop and Her Art (University of Michigan Press, 1983) – the first collection of critical work on Bishop, which includes a section of her previously uncollected writing; Elizabeth Bishop: Poems, Prose, and Letters (Library of America, 2008), the first volume to include almost all of her published and major posthumously published and unpublished work; and Elizabeth Bishop: Prose (FSG, 2011), the first substantially complete independent collection of her prose works published to celebrate her centennial, which includes her significant correspondence with poet Anne Stevenson and the closest possible restoration of her book Brazil to what she originally intended, before the editors of Life rewrote it. The chapter ends with the “rescue” of one of her major unpublished poems.

Different approaches to past mathematical texts are reviewed. The question addressed is: should we stress the continuity of past mathematics with the mathematics practiced today, or should we emphasize its difference, namely what makes it a product of a distant mathematical culture?

Provides brief details about translations of the CANFOR scales that have been completed along with brief details of those that have been published.

Drawing extensively on archival material, this chapter analyses Seamus Heaney’s involvement with the Field Day Theatre Company through the lens of his long friendships with two of the company’s other directors, Brian Friel (who co-founded Field Day in 1980 with actor Stephen Rea) and Seamus Deane. In addition to serving on Field Day’s board of directors, Heaney wrote two works specifically for the company: the verse pamphlet An Open Letter (1983), which protested the use of the adjective 'British' as applied to himself, and The Cure at Troy (1990), a Hiberno-English version of a late play by Sophocles. Heaney’s membership in the Field Day collective gave him a sense of camaraderie, the opportunity to address himself to his country’s urgent needs at a critical point in its history, and the challenge to do things he would not have done otherwise.

What should we do about the fact that reading Chaucer is hard? The “immersion theory” of learning Middle English, rooted in nineteenth-century philological approaches, is no longer really functional or well-suited to attract our wider and more diverse contemporary audience of students; we might return, productively if paradoxically, to an earlier appreciation of textual difficulty (and reward), which we actually share with our Modernist colleagues. In this we can make translations our allies rather than our antagonists. Moreover, the stereotypes about the Middle Ages that we have traditionally railed against, from “dark-ages” dismissals to pre-Raphaelite romanticizations, may no longer be the ones our twenty-first-century students carry with them these days.

We examine the notion of linguistic and other types of diversity that have become an important factor in evaluating economic, political, and societal progress. While most of the existing research on the measurement of diversity has been focused either on the number and size of different groups, this approach fails to take into account the degree of their distinctiveness. It is thus important to incorporate the notion of distances or dissimilarity between groups. We discuss various types of indices and their impact (positive or negative) on economic and political outcomes. We also use linguistic distances to explain economic behavior such as trade, migrations, translations, and acquiring new languages.

This chapter examines the representation of walking within the modern novels of New York. In American literature, walking the city seems to incarnate some coincidence between the uncertainties of discourse and the fluctuations of a place that is both circumscribed and open to the unknown. Walking the city cannot simply be considered as the pretext of a realist description nor simply associated with an abstract means of enunciation either. The act of walking reveals the manner in which writers sense and recite what may be no more than an emotion: an experience of the influx of fragments, of the grating notes and inflexions that nonetheless constitute the city. Walking the streets of New York, in American fiction, therefore simultaneously emblematizes the metatextual questioning of a discourse that is now conscious of its own limitations and the involvement of this discourse in the sensitive diversity of the world. Indeed, far from estranging the text from the world, far from alienating words into some reflexive abstraction, far from secluding discourse into some intransitive, self–sufficient construct, the consideration of the limits of language makes the very substance of the novel vibrate with endless possibilities.

This chapter is concerned with Sulpicia’s female-authored elegies, Mary Sidney’s translations of Petrarch’s Triumph of Death, and of Robert Garnier’s Antonie, both texts which make prominent use of a female voice of desire, and Mary Wroth’s first sonnet from her Pamphilia to Amphilanthus. The argument here is not so much that Sulpicia is a model for Sidney and Wroth as an exploration, in each period, of what happens when a female author/narrator inserts herself into a discourse which is primarily gendered masculine. It analyses how previous instances of ventriloquised female voices in male authored elegy and Renaissance love poetry open up a space into which it is possible for a female author to insert herself. Of special interest is the question of what happens when the female beloved speaks up, speaks back, speaks for herself.