Surrealism persistently resisted its own historicization, defining itself not as a literary or artistic movement but as an activity of the mind aimed at total liberation. This essay re-examines surrealism’s internal contradictions: its rejection of literature alongside its dependence on literary institutions; its commitment to psychic freedom alongside political orthodoxy; and its hostility to authorship alongside the production of canonical works. Drawing on manifestos, journals, performance practices, and postwar critical reception, the essay situates surrealism at the fault line between modernism, Dada, and later poststructuralist theory. It argues that surrealism’s most enduring legacy lies less in its aesthetic products than in its reconfiguration of cultural authority among artist, artwork, and reader, a redistribution that continues to shape contemporary literary, media, and performance studies.

This article examines Romanian internet memes as cultural micro-narratives that encode social critique, identity negotiation, and emotional response through compressed, multimodal storytelling. Using a mixed-method approach, the study integrates qualitative narrative analysis with quantitative sentiment data drawn from the RoMEMESv2 corpus, comprising 983 Romanian-language memes. The analysis identifies recurrent narrative roles and plot structures adapted from Propp’s morphology and applied to digital contexts, revealing archetypal roles, such as the slacker hero, the bureaucratic villain, the domestic guardian, and the trickster. From a quantitative point of view, the corpus exhibits a dominant negative sentiment, particularly within political memes, which combine systemic critique with affective ambivalence. These findings distinguish Romanian memes from datasets in other languages, suggesting that negativity functions not as deviance, but as a culturally specific narrative and emotional resource. Multimodal analysis demonstrates how visual and textual elements operate through anchorage, intertextuality, and symbolic compression, so as to construct narrative messages within single frames. The study argues that Romanian memes function as digital folklore: they narrate social frustration and institutional distrust through irony, repetition, and archetypal condensation, offering insights into the emotional and narrative logic of post-communist digital culture.

The aim of this article is to provide a new theoretical and methodological framework for analyzing the ethical, relational, and normative dimensions of transgenerational memory work, taking a comparative close reading of two Norwegian second-generation Holocaust family memoirs, Irene Levin’s Vi snakket ikke om Holocaust (2020) and Bjørn Westlie’s Fars krig (2008), as its case in point. Both narratives are simultaneously biographies, autobiographies, and historiographies, and they mediate between family memory and national memory. The authors position themselves as second-generation descendants, addressing and being addressed by their parents, and as Holocaust researchers, addressing and being addressed by a public audience. Departing from the theoretical perspective of relational life writing and Judith Butler’s concepts “scene of address” and “frameworks of recognition”, this comparative literary analysis of rhetorical situations, genres, and modes of narrating discusses the author-narrators’ engagement with their parents’ silence and writings and reveals how personal histories intersect with collective reckoning. By attending to the relational and performative aspects of storytelling, this article highlights how postgeneration literature enacts ethical reflection, recognition, and accountability.

This article rereads Odysseus’s encounter with the Sirens in the Odyssey through the lens of sound, arguing that the episode stages a foundational tension between knowledge and alterity in Western thought. Drawing on Emmanuel Levinas’s notion of the “temptation of temptation,” the essay shows how Odysseus’s famous stratagem—hearing the Sirens while bound to the mast—models a form of mediated proximity that allows sound to be collected without ethical exposure. Close readings of Homeric Greek, especially the Sirens’ claim to knowledge of ὅσσα γένηται, reveal that their song gestures not merely toward retrospective epic knowledge but toward natality and coming-into-being, a dimension Homer pointedly withholds. By placing the Sirens alongside early colonial soundscapes and modern reflections on cartography, the article argues that Western listening practices privilege mastery over vulnerability. Against this tradition, the Sirens’ unheard song marks a suppressed alternative: listening as openness, risk, and ethical relation.

This article examines the reshaping of the period of the Second World War in Cecilie Løveid’s play Maria Q, a drama centered on the enigmatic historical figure of Mara Vasilyevna Pasetchnikova, better known as Maria Quisling, the second wife of Vidkun Quisling, who was Norway’s fascist prime minister during that war. Drawing on studies of historical fiction and intertextuality, this article aims to show how Cecilie Løveid employed the genre of historical drama but transformed it so that she could offer her reimagining of the war period in Norway to a present-day audience. I read Maria Q as an experimental historical drama in which Løveid not only used her freedom as a writer of dramatic fiction to combine fact with imagination but simultaneously incorporated various texts and genres as sources to further her own multifaceted reimagining of Maria Quisling as a complex character. As I will demonstrate, by foregrounding dialogism as her central dimension, Løveid rejected a unitary, monologic and authoritarian conception both of recent Norwegian history and of Maria Quisling’s role in it.

Personal experiences, even when recounted as autobiographical novels, can deepen our understanding of the past, as they present a lived history of real events. In the novel De două mii de ani (For Two Thousand Years), Iosef Mendel Hechter, using the literary pseudonym Mihail Sebastian, recounts his experience as a young Jewish intellectual, born and raised in Romania, in a society divided by ethnic tensions driven by ultra-nationalism and anti-Semitism. Our study aims to critically examine, through a historical perspective, the socio-political realities depicted by the author, the collective mentality, and the typological stereotypes of his fictional characters. These reflect the actual choices and paths taken by Romanian Jews in their responses to the anti-Semitic pressures of the era. We believe that adopting this less frequently explored perspective will enrich both our understanding of that period and the depth of the novel itself. Thus, autobiographical literature and history engage in a meaningful dialogue, where microhistory, represented by the individual experience of the main character, Ștefan Valeriu, can verify or refine macrohistory, particularly the social, political, and economic context in which interwar Romanian society developed.

This article offers the first systematic analytical methodology to understand distant play as a multidimensional, ludoliterary, critical, and philosophical practice of engaging with so-called idle or semi-idle games. It uses Anselm Pyta’s The Longing, a so far underexplored semi-idle, slow game that challenges traditional gameplay paradigms through its metareferential, bookish, philosophical, and contemplative structure, as a case study. Our central argument is that The Longing deploys antimimetic temporal mechanics, interpassive forms of bookish play, and ideas of existentialist resistance to explore themes of time, agency, and existential longing, thereby offering a reflective space for dealing with neo-liberal, post-pandemic, polycrisis-stricken angst. To come to terms with the multidisciplinary complexities of the game, our paper adopts a triadic analytical methodology interweaving insights from postclassical, medium-specific narratology, platform-comparative literary analysis, and existentialist philosophy. This combined approach transcends existing ludoliterary frameworks and accounts for divergent forms of play. Our first focus is the game’s multiscalar temporal layering and the strategies it requires from players to “ludify” antimimetic frictions bookish between those layers. This is followed by an examination of how the game constructs a bookish player by interweaving ludexical processes of reading, unreading, dis-reading, and writing (in) books and other printed documents. Finally, we turn to the game’s complex interpassive relationships between player, player-character, and game world, highlighting in particular the role of walking, collecting, building, and searching as acts of catharsis and rebellion, and examining failure as a valid ludic alternative to survival and happiness. Ultimately, our analysis renders distant play as a form of parasocial resistance, which in The Longing manifests as an affective and philosophically fine-grained combination of more-than-human relationality, care, and relief vis-a-vis the nothingness of lost hope. The game thus offers a new form of e-literary engagement, placing books and their “unnatural,” transmediated affordances front and center while questioning the capitalist undercurrents of contemporary literary media and critiquing a culture of acceleration.

Throughout her oeuvre, Mary Lavin (1912–1996) engages with the nuances of “celibate moments” within masculine life cycles. This periodic sexlessness is often expressed through the complexities of strained or upended marital unions, as in “A Happy Death”, as well as the homosocial and fraternal relationships depicted in “The Joy Ride” and “The Becker Wives.” Within these overlooked narrative spaces, we can consider the relational implications of sexlessness, singleness and marital struggle on interpersonal relationships and the intimacies of masculine sexual identity in post-independent Ireland. In Lavin’s work, the short story is not a conclusive form, and celibacy is not always a permanent practice or observed behaviour. Instead, celibacy can be transient, often silent but equally charged with generative or destructive potential. This article will theorise male celibacy as part of Lavin’s commitment to silence and restraint and include this as part of her refusal of conventional romantic closures. Celibacy in this case takes on a significant positionality within interpersonal characterisations, not merely as a passive symptom of unhappiness or a given consequence of marital decline or spousal death, but as an active and at times frustrated response to hegemonic expectation. To conceive of masculine celibacy in these works, this article considers how celibacy functions within domestic short fiction and Lavin’s conceptualisation of everyday estranged intimacies.

In his 17 novels, Kjartan Fløgstad (born 1944) has analysed the traces of WWII and possible continuations of right-wing ideology into post-war politics and ideology. In my article, I focus on four novels: Dalen Portland, U3, Grense Jakobselv, and Due og drone (Dove and Drone). Dalen Portland and U3 were published in the context of the Cold War, whereas Grense Jakobselv and Due og drone were published in a context in which history was claimed to have reached its end after the collapse of the Soviet Union. Fløgstad has opposed the end-of-history thesis since it was introduced in the influential study by Francis Fukuyama in 1992. From Fløgstad’s perspective, history has reached a dead end, as democratic ideals are being challenged and economic disparities are widening—even within the welfare states of Northern Europe. In all the novels being discussed, Fløgstad has consistently focused on factual and possible interlinks between right-wing figures of thought and stakeholders of political and economic power. Thus, the only consistent superpower, the United States, has also been an object of Fløgstad’s interest. The importance of the United States is even indicated in the well-chosen title for the English translation of Dalen Portland: Dollar Road. The interpretation of Fløgstad’s novels is simultaneously an interpretation of history. Given the threats to democratic ideals that have emerged in the 2020s, Fløgstad’s analysis has demonstrated notable foresight.

This essay examines how textiles operate as violent aesthetic tools in the formation of Black existence during American slavery. While the American plantation relied on cotton production and the regulation of what the enslaved would wear, enslaved people transformed these fibers into instruments of refusal, creativity, and ontological reclamation. A study of textiles during American slavery exposes how the violence of enslavement was lived on the surface of the body through clothing. Reading art and runaway advertisements alongside narratives by Olaudah Equiano, John Brown, Booker T. Washington, and Harriet Jacobs, this article reveals how the enslaved resisted and rebelled against the textiles they were forced to wear. Bringing together visual art, runaway slave advertisements, and slave narratives, I argue that textiles form a crucial archive for understanding Black rebellion and resistance. This essay situates historical acts of resistance through textiles; it is through clothing that enslaved people articulated a radical insistence on their presence, thus turning fiber into flesh.