postmedieval volume 2, issue 3: New Critical Modes
Co-Editors:
Jeffrey Jerome Cohen and Cary Howie
- Editors’ Introduction: “Novelty”
- “A critical poetics of allure: 10 antiphons for the bringing-to-appearance of the place of allure as a complicity of human and non-human matter in writing, or, the Physis of the Whale in Anglo-Saxon England”
Daniel C. Remein - “Getting medieval in real time”
Richard Godden - “Flirting as a critical mode: Barthes, Alcibiades, Sartre”
Anna Klosowska - “‘An abecedarium for the elements”
Jeffrey Jerome Cohen - “On medieval blogging” [Interview]
Brantley L. Bryant and Carl S. Pyrdum III, - “Like two autistic moonbeams entering the window of my asylum: Chaucer’s Griselda and Lars von Trier’s Bess McNeill’”
Eileen A. Joy - “Means of transport”
Cary Howie - Always already new: The possibilities of the enfolded instant”
Karmen McKendrick - “Manuscript thinking: Stories by hand”
Catherine Brown - Book Review Essay: “Re-viewing the eastern Mediterranean”
Sharon Kinoshita
West[Michigan]ward, Ho! 47th International Congress on Medieval Studies
by EILEEN JOY

Fuck Pessimism: Embrace Youngsterism

I’ll Stop the World and Melt With You: A Plea for Inextricability, for Staying Awake, and for an Insomniac Humanities
Every known object
rotates
as if:
b. keeping busy
c. stunned
(Rae Armantrout, “Arrivals”)
We address the question of our aliveness to the object of fascination because contemplating such an object allows us to suspend our aliveness without suffering from it; in reverie, in gazing, we are undead.
(Aranye Fradenburg, “My Worldes Blisse: Chaucer’s Tragedy of Fortune”)
leave your possessions, positions, ambitions at home,
temporarily quit the human race;
how long can we stay?
the fairies with the stars won’t say;
it all depends on your money . . . or your case.
(poem written by an anonymous American while incarcerated in a Chinese prison, from This American Life, Episode 448, Adventure!, Act I: “Chinese Checkmate”)
What we need is an account . . . of how the complications of praise may be thought, said, and sung together with the complications of truth and, yes, pleasure.
(Cary Howie, “Inextricable,” Glossator 4: Occitan Poetry)
Before beginning, a disclaimer and a frank personal aside: I am well aware that some people are afflicted by chronic and long-term bouts of insomnia, and that this can be a horrible thing to live with, and I am not meaning in any way with my post here to minimize or overlook that fact. For a brief period, when I was working on my MFA in the early 1990s and living in Richmond, Virginia, over a period of about a year, I had a terrible and long battle with insomnia that was also combined with an illogical anxiety that if I went to sleep, I would die. I never actually sought help for this (because I was young and stupid), but spent many late nights and early mornings riding my bicycle through the lamp-lit streets of the historic Fan district in Richmond in order to wear myself out, and also because I believed that, by cycling, I was keeping myself alive. I had a lot of interesting “visions,” epiphanies, “visitations,” and hallucinations on these bike rides, some of which made it into my fiction writing, and one of which convinced me I had cracked the “code” of T.S. Eliot’s “The Wasteland.” but mainly, it was just a horrible period in my life. It didn’t help that, at the time, I was also — how shall I put this? — a total pothead. But I must admit, I have some nostalgia for those visions and visitations, which were, for lack of a better way to describe them, windows that momentarily cracked open to reveal to me the frail yet tender interconnectedness of everything, human and inhuman, past and present (Richmond is a truly Southern gothic city in which the past is always visible), as well as the shining beauty of the world. In short, even when sick and afraid, I’m an optimist [or is it" hopeless aesthete?]. Read more 
You can download the book for FREE or purchase the print edition [for a mere $17.00] 









