At the turn of the sixteenth century, John Skelton left a strange legacy to the English literary canon: a verse form characterized solely by short lines and long rhyme sequences. This formal innovation, a species of close rhyme now called “the Skeltonic,” has puzzled Skelton's interlocutors for centuries, leaving him a liminal figure within literary history. But if Skelton was an anomaly, the Skeltonic does not stand alone within the English-language literary canon. American hip-hop, one of the most formally innovative, commercially successful, and contentious poetic forms of our day, foregrounds a style and ethos that in many ways picks up where Skelton left off. Hip-hop, like the Skeltonic, requires the explanatory force of its own context, and yet its remarkable, persistent, historically dissonant commitment to rhyme suggests a striking formal parallel with Skelton's verse, one that offers transhistorical insight into the performative poetics and paradoxical politics of close rhyme.

Reading Moby-Dick alongside the groundbreaking tort and accident jurisprudence of Melville's father-in-law, Massachusetts Chief Justice Lemuel Shaw, reveals that the white whale's attack on Captain Ahab involves the same questions of risk, responsibility, and redress posed by nineteenth-century industrial accidents. More specifically, Ahab embodies the recrudescence of an earlier, revenge-based conception of justice that emerges in reaction to the pro-business jurisprudence of Shaw, in which industry was increasingly shielded from liability to its victims in cases of “pure accident”—precisely the possibility Ahab is fatally unable to accept. As narrator, Ishmael in turn augurs the rise of a new legal order that disavows the focus on blame and responsibility altogether.

James Joyce's Ulysses is rife with Western fantasies about the East: seductive odalisques, damsels with dulcimers, exotic medinas dotted with carpet shops. In invoking them, however, Joyce disarms what Edward Said called Orientalism, or Europe's imperialist stereotypes about Asia and North Africa. Postcolonial critics have seen in Joyce's reformulation of Orientalism an example of his rejection of ethnocentrism, xenophobia, and colonialism in Ireland and elsewhere. This essay expands and complicates this scholarly narrative through an examination of Orientalized images of Spain in the novel. A European yet Orientalized country like Ireland, Spain offers Joyce a point of reference to contextualize marginalized national identities beyond colonizer-colonized tensions. Drawing on Gilles Deleuze and Félix Guattari's notion of the “minor,” I show how Joyce's engagement with Spain can be conceptualized as a form of Orientalism that decouples Irish identity from British imperialism and the anticolonial nativism that pervaded the Irish Free State after it was established in 1922, the year Ulysses was published.

This essay examines theater's role in recording public history, positing a performance-sensitive approach to historiography against the singularity of both monuments and canons. The recent removal of monuments has drawn renewed attention to the problem of singular public histories. I argue for a polyvocal, repertory model of public history as theorized through the collectively written 2016 play The Fall, which records the events of the 2015–16 student protests in South Africa. The essay begins by contextualizing the play in the longer history of workshop theater and educational inequality in South Africa before specifically examining its approach to public history. Such performance-sensitive historiography enacts anticolonial epistemologies by replacing the singular representation of monumentalism with copresence amid contested histories.

This essay analyzes Blake Hausman's Riding the Trail of Tears to explore the complexities of rendering history visible—both viewable and knowable—in the context of settler colonial capitalism. The novel centers on a virtual reality (VR) experience called the Tsalagi Removal Exodus Point Park (TREPP), which allows tourists to experience the Cherokee Removal as an educational and entertaining experience. Through the trope of VR, the novel articulates how historicizing invested in visibility risks turning Native people and knowledge into consumable objects. Instead of seeking colonial recognition by making their history visible, characters in Riding the Trail of Tears mobilize invisibility to jam the machine of settler colonialism. Their surreptitious movement leads to direct action that counters settler appropriation. The novel thus highlights the importance of Indigenous refusal and models specific strategies for enacting it.