This chapter deals with the main issues bearing upon Clitarchus and his work, moving beyond the usual division between Testimonia and Fragmenta and giving attention to the context and the agenda of each writer that mentioned him. Attention is given to his popularity as an Alexander historian and as a fine writer, as well as to the real significance of the narrative material attributed to him. This evidence can be combined with his few known biographical details in the evaluation of his chronology, which remains uncertain. The last two sections, dealing with his chronology and with the presentation of Alexander in his work, end with a question mark and invite the reader’s own reflections.

The Alexander most visible to us today is one who was created and recreated in the Roman period. While Alexander’s presence in literature is strong enough that we can reasonably describe the trajectory of intellectual interest in Alexander during the Roman period, more difficult to pin down is the degree to which powerful Romans engaged in conscious imitatio or aemulatio Alexandri, which generally involves squaring literary hints with material evidence that does not always speak to us as directly as we would like it to. Without dismissing the world of ways in which various aspects of Alexander-myth may have been subtly exploited by powerful Romans, this paper charts a path between overly credulous and overly sceptical conclusions concerning individual Romans by taking an overview approach of imperial interest and tightening our definitions of ‘imitation’ or ‘emulation’ in the context of Romans and Alexander. I conclude that both imitatio and aemulatio look quite different at Rome than they do in the provincial east.

This chapter reviews the fragmentary evidence for the five first historians and histories of Alexander: Callisthenes of Olynthus, Chares of Mytilene, Nearchus of Crete, Onesicritus of Astypalea and the royal diaries of the king, perhaps compiled by Eumenes of Cardia. These Greek authors took part of the Asiatic expedition and enjoyed a unique vantage point from which to report on the central events of the campaign. Nevertheless, they often resort to literary convention or even invention along the lines of other great Greek literature, especially Homer and Herodotus. Moreover, they all purport to have had some kind of personal access to the king, and the evidence suggests that they sought to magnify that link in various ways during Alexander’s lifetime and after his death. The chapter is structured around a biographical sketch of each author or, in the case of the Royal Journal, text, and a guide to the content, form and function of each history is supplied.

Chapter 5 discusses how Ratzinger’s understanding of revelation, which was significantly influenced by his study of Bonaventure, shaped Vatican II’s constitution Dei Verbum.

Chapter 7 explores the Church Fathers, especially Augustine of Hippo, as an important source for Ratzinger’s thought as well as the place of the Fathers in theology today.

Through a focus on Claudia Rankine’s Citizen, Elizabeth Alexander’s inaugural poem “Praise Song for the Day,” and Amiri Baraka’s 9/11 poem “Somebody Blew Up America,” this chapter analyzes the twenty-first-century African American literary mood of melancholic hope (an inseparable fusion of melancholy and hope). When Citizen, “Praise Song for the Day,” and “Somebody Blew Up America” are read alongside each other, a profound tension emerges between the stasis of the afterlife of slavery and the movement of Black life that is not overdetermined by the afterlife of slavery. New ways of thinking about African American citizenship are one of the central focal points in the first decades of twenty-first-century African American literature. The simultaneity of the era of the first Black president (and the larger symbolism of a loosening of institutionalized antiblack racism) and the era of the Black Lives Matter movement continues to lead writers, working in the traditions of African American literature, to depictions of melancholic hope. This chapter ends with a focus on how the melancholic hope of twenty-first-century African American citizenship can produce a feeling of black transnational citizenship (the feeling of black collective unbelonging and a refusal of the imagined communities created by national borders).

The modern lyric, emerging in the late eighteenth century, is the genre par excellence of the private individual alone with their thoughts. The construction of material and psychic interiority for the normative bourgeois subject has relied on the violent dispossession of Black people through slavery, colonialism, and other forms of exploitation. This chapter first considers the possibilities of re-marking the lyric as Black – reading the claims of Theodor Adorno’s account of lyric’s social character through a history he does not consider – before turning to contemporary questions regarding the emergence of the lyric as the preeminent genre of African American poetry since the 1980s.

Chapter 8 discusses Ratzinger’s Trinitarian theology, which is strongly Augustinian, with an integration of Thomistic concepts and in dialogue with the modern world.

In the 1980s, a theoretical turn in African American literary criticism helped institutionalize the study of African American literature by insisting on its formal complexity and distinctiveness. The racial text could no longer be read as reducible to its social context. In that same decade, a materialist line of inquiry sought to reconcile formal and contextual analysis by examining the ways black-authored books were published by major companies and received by the critical establishment. Drawing on methods from book history and print culture studies, a sociology of African American literature developed as the academic field of study took shape around canon-building projects. Two approaches to African American literary sociology emerged out of the 1990s: skepticism about the book’s capacity to represent racial experience, and optimism about the commercial success of diverse authors. Over time, these approaches merged into general studies of the racial text’s shifting status in the literary marketplace. With that expanded focus, the sociology of African American literature today sheds light on the way culture and commerce intersect in the making, selling, and reading of black-authored books.

This chapter is an overview of the problems and uses that affect theory offers the study of African American literature. Defined as aside from the traditions of thought that made black literary fields thinkable in an institutional context, it is not difficult to surmise, in generous faith, why the turn to affect has been inhospitable to lines of inquiry that presume a racial subject. Meanwhile, questions regarding the transmission of affect have remained central to the project of African American literature since before its advent as literature. This chapter considers how the work of the critic in the field necessarily presumes the relevance of affect, arguing that consciously reading for affect wards off duller accounts of what African American literary texts signify in favor of vivacious dialogue on what they do and how.

Chapter 4 examines Ratzinger’s concept of Logos as the key to formulate a worldview in dialogue with modernity that maintains a specific Christian anthropological identity.

This chapter discusses Afrofuturism with reference to a wide range of literary works, influential critical and theoretical accounts, and artistic manifestos, identifying its overlaps and distinctions from the broader speculative turn apparent in African American literature from the 1980s onward. The chapter focuses on two rubrics that lend cohesion to the array of genres, styles, and aesthetic principles associated with the label of Afrofuturism: the politics of time and the idea of race as technology. Through various devices of temporal dislocation, Afrofuturist works invent revisionist histories, shatter consensus narratives about the present, and challenge prevailing discourses of futurity. In addition, the chapter argues that Afrofuturist literature at its best defamiliarizes established ways of reading race through its innovative engagement with race-making techniques and technologies ranging from genre conventions to genetic engineering.

This chapter examines the different aspects of enslaved Africans’ humanity that writers of neo-slave narratives felt was limiting, dehumanizing, or incomplete. To do this, this chapter also investigates the changing trends in the study of the sociology and history of enslaved Africans, speeches by Ossie Davis, and the writings of Octavia Butler, Angela Davis, and Toni Morrison – all of which contributed to ideas about black humanity. This chapter turns the kaleidoscope of neo-slave narrative by looking at a narrower, yet significant, angle of political life, form, and style of being Black and human, in the context of trends in mass consumption that gave shape to the landscape of this fiction about slavery.