Since John Barth's famous essay on Literature of Exhaustion, it has become commonplace to say that we live in an age characterized by a constant recirculation of products. Thanks to twenty-first-century information technologies, the possibilities for the global dissemination of information and contents have become more ubiquitous and instantaneous than ever, and technologies have assumed the guise of global facilitators of exchange and democratic participation. At the same time, these developments raise questions about the effects of a potentially infinite electronic repository on processes of communication, remembering, and community-building, all of which depend on modes of selection. (2) Moreover, while technological changes facilitate the virtual circulation of contents as never before, increasingly severe and aggressively pursued copyright laws are turning a growing amount of materials, knowledge, and information into the of a limited number of individuals and companies. As Stanford professor of law Lawrence Lessig puts it, [t]here has never been a time in our history when more of our 'culture' was as owned' as it is now (12). And even though copyright owners might fight a losing battle when it comes to controlling the dissemination of film and music on the Web, trends in copyright law make obvious the discrepancy between the idea(l) of a worldwide network that facilitates global sharing and the contemporary status quo. (3) Questions regarding the desirability and feasibility of a democratic circulation, accessibility, and, perhaps most important of all, (re-) utilization of materials also bear in major ways on the contemporary literary field. (4) Over the past decades, the book market has witnessed a proliferation of rewritings, sequels, prequels, and so-called bio-fictions that mirrors the trend toward sharing, appropriating, and recycling preexisting materials facilitated by the Web, while at the same time fostering a debate about which parts, and which aspects, of our heritage may be worth preserving and how this heritage affects the imagination. (5) Along with the proliferation of fan fiction on the Web, the success of recent spinoff novels such as Michael Cunningham's The Hours (1998), Geraldine Brooks's March (2005), and Sena Jeter Naslund's Ahab's Wife (1999) indicates the popularity of this type of fiction with both authors and readers, the prominent role that popular and narratives play for the individual and collective imagination, and the considerable amount of economic and symbolic capital involved. (6) However, the writer who decides to retrieve and recycle materials of the past straddles a dangerous line. Such ventures often conflict with contemporary conceptualizations of intellectual property and copyright laws, and may therefore have considerable legal consequences. (7) Moreover, by appropriating well-known, and often canonic, materials of the (literary) past, rewritings also invite comparisons with their pre-texts. In such assessments, aesthetic and moral criteria are often conjoined: For example, a perceived lack of aesthetic mastery or complexity of the rewriting is typically seen as the result of a lack of originality and a debasing economic interest on the side of the literary recycler, as opposed to the pre-text's author's creative genius. (8) What such approaches to the phenomenon tend to disregard are the specific agendas and implications of acts of rewriting, which range from an apparent wish for participation and continuation on the part of readers to an exploration of the continued impact of cultural texts (Assmann, Texte 232) on the community, including the perceived need to reconsider the implications of formative narratives along the lines of race, class, gender, and sexuality, to name but a few. In other words, by rewriting literary classics, contemporary authors also attempt to re-conceptualize the imagined community that serves as a basis for identification. …