This chapter focuses on the reception of Old Norse-Icelandic literature. It begins with a discussion of the definition of the term ‘reception’ and moves on to describe the beginnings of medievalism in Europe and its roots in social and political change. The relationship between nationalism and a ‘Nordic’ or ‘Germanic’ racial identity is explored, and the role of Old Norse myth in politics, ideology and propaganda is analysed. Following a survey of early modern and eighteenth-century European responses to Old Norse literature, including the work of Paul-Henri Mallet, and nineteenth-century translations of Old Norse literature and the work of Jacob Grimm, the discussion moves on to German nationalism and Old Norse, culminating in the National Socialist appropriation of Old Norse mythology and motifs. The use of medieval Icelandic literature to reconstruct a supposed pre-Christian Germanic religion is outlined, and the anti-Christian and anti-Jewish attitudes of so-called völkisch thought explained. The subsequent rise of Neopaganism throughout the world is the subject of the rest of the chapter, with special attention to the racist ideology evident in various Neopagan groups.

This chapter revisits reception theory through an exploration of the metaphysics of presence and absence across time. Bringing together the ‘Letter to Horace’ of the Russian poet Joseph Brodsky and Horace’s own Epistles, it uses the theory of communication developed by John Durham Peters and the philosophy of the afterlife of Samuel Scheffler to elucidate the experience of, on the one hand, communicating with a past where one and so much of what makes one what one is was not present and, on the other, of projecting oneself into a future in which one will no longer exist so as to communicate with those who do not yet exist and whom one will never know. Recent metaphysical thinking has sought to make us sensitive to the existential incompleteness of people and things and the fragility of selves that are distributed across the multitude of ‘attachments’ which Bruno Latour suggests as one ‘mode of existence’ that makes us what we are. Latour suggests that we should not think of ourselves as simple, atomized, points of emission and reception for texts, and appeals to Étienne Souriau’s notion of instauration to suggest how our selves and what and whom we value are sustained.

This chapter proposes a framework of gestural analysis to read the untimely qualities of Nagahara Shōson’s serialized novel Osato-san [The Tale of Osato]. Osato-san was first published from 1925 to 1926 in the Rafu Shimpo, a Japanese-language newspaper in Los Angeles; an English translation was published in 2012. In the first half of the chapter I situate gestural analysis between the historical horizons of, on the one hand, recent turns to the aesthetics of gesture in Asian American literary and performance scholarship, and on the other, late nineteenth- and early twentieth-century attitudes toward gesture as exemplary of forms of “ethnic style” opposed to standardization and mechanization. The second half of the chapter demonstrates how the analysis of gesture can illuminate qualities of untimeliness across multiple temporal layers: from the horizon of expectations laid out by a Rafu Shimpo review of an earlier Shōson novel, through untimely temporal disturbances in the serial production of Osato-san, to shifts described in the closing horizons of the novel itself.

Scholars haveestablished that Rome is at once a place and an idea. This double formula, however, which limits Rome to a specific distant place (distant, that is, from the perspective of Britain) and an idea (that is, an immaterial concept or notion of that distant place), needs to be supplemented by an acknowledgement that the Roman Empire had left in its wake material remains and cultural practices that ensured that Rome could always be close-to-hand, familiar, and domestic—even a thousand or more miles from the Eternal City. Ruins, roads, the Latin language and the thickets of its grammar, cultural and spiritual institutions, liturgical texts and devotional regimens: these phenomena ensured that Rome could be, even as far away as Medieval or Renaissance Britain, experienced as near rather than far, and as a network of material remains and cultural practices rather than as an abstract idea. The book gathers these disparate phenomena under the rubric of the ‘fact’ of Rome (with an eye to the word’s derivation from the Latin factum) in an effort to show that lives lived in Medieval and Renaissance Britain were continually immersed in versions of Rome that oscillated between conspicuousness and invisibility.

A great deal of literature attempts to reimagine, rework, revamp, retrieve – in short, retell – the Bible. The growing body of work known as “biblical reception history” is devoted to studying this phenomenon. The essay continues down this productive path: first a review of the biblical Song of Songs, noting the points most salient for understanding later retellings; next, detailing what biblical retellings are and how we might define them. Turning to the essay’s focus, there is close analyses of the novel Song of Solomon by Toni Morrison (1977) and the short story “Song of Songs” by Darcey Steinke (2004) as they interact with the Bible. These stories show how biblical retellings are like a field, with some closer to the center (i.e. the Bible) than others. The essay concludes by suggesting why retellings exist in the first place.