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Progressive Intertextual Practice
in Modern and Contemporary
Literature
Edited by
Katherine Ebury and Christin M. Mulligan
First published 2024
by Routledge
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© 2024 selection and editorial matter, Katherine Ebury and Christin M.
Mulligan; individual chapters, the contributors
The right of Katherine Ebury and Christin M. Mulligan to be identified as
the authors of the editorial material, and of the authors for their individual
chapters, has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the
Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or
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Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or
registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation
without intent to infringe.
Library of Congress Cataloging‑in‑Publication Data
Names: Ebury, Katherine, 1986– editor. | Mulligan, Christin M., editor.
Title: Progressive intertextual practice in modern and contemporary
literature / edited by Katherine Ebury and Christin Mulligan.
Description: New York, NY : Routledge, 2024. |
Series: Routledge studies in contemporary literature | Includes bibliographical
references and index.|
Identifiers: LCCN 2023055505 | ISBN 9781032578248 (hardback) |
ISBN 9781032578279 (paperback) | ISBN 9781003441199 (ebook)
Subjects: LCSH: Intertextuality. | Literature, Modern—History and
criticism. | LCGFT: Literary criticism. | Essays.
Classification: LCC PN98.I58 P74 2024 | DDC 809/.03—dc23/eng/20240108
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2023055505
ISBN: 9781032578248 (hbk)
ISBN: 9781032578279 (pbk)
ISBN: 9781003441199 (ebk)
DOI: 10.4324/9781003441199
Typeset in Sabon
by codeMantra
Contents
Introduction 1
KATHERINE EBURY AND CHRISTIN M. MULLIGAN
PART I
New Metaphors for Progressive Intertextuality21
PART II
Progressive Intertextuality and Inclusivity69
PART III
Progressive Intertextuality and Interdisciplinarity113
Index157
Contributors
This project was conceived during the early days of the COVID‑19
pandemic. We are first and foremost grateful to the contributors for their
hard work and solidarity during these difficult times. We believe the won‑
derful work of our contributors will make a clear intervention in both the
academic and public understanding of intertextuality and its potential. We
are also grateful to our editors at Routledge, Jennifer Abbott and Anita
Bhatt, as well as to our anonymous peer reviews for their thoughtful feed‑
back. Finally, we are deeply indebted to the support of family, friends, and
colleagues during this process.
Introduction
Katherine Ebury and Christin M. Mulligan
Introduction
This edited volume aims to reposition intertextuality in relation to recent
trends in critical practice. Inspired by the work of Sara Ahmed and Kim‑
berlé Crenshaw in particular, our authors explore and reconfigure classic
theories of authorship, influence and the text (including those by Roland
Barthes, Michel Foucault, Julia Kristeva, and Harold Bloom), updating
these conversations to include intersectionality specifically, broadly under‑
stood to include gendered, racial and other forms of social justice includ‑
ing disability. Together, this approach considers the progressive impact of
the transmission and transformation of texts. This volume includes chap‑
ters on major canonical works such as James Joyce’s Ulysses alongside
recent contemporary literature by authors such as Teju Cole and Mag‑
gie O’Farrell, as well as chapters that offer broader theoretical interven‑
tions. This volume also engages with how intertextuality can facilitate
interdisciplinary and ekphrastic thinking and representation, including the
inspiration of music and the visual arts for texts and their transmission.
The choice of intertexts are deliberately political, ethical and artistic sig‑
nifiers for the authors discussed in this volume, and our contributors are
thus enabled to address topics ranging from visual impairment to Shake‑
spearean motherhood to the influence of Jazz culture on writing on the
Northern Irish Troubles. This collection of essays thus constitutes a cu‑
rated collection of new research in this area, with our authors sharing a
commitment to examine how intertextuality can be innovative, radical and
intersectional; we believe the diversity of the collection is a strength that
shows how intertextuality can be more central to political and ethical con‑
versations in literary studies across different subdisciplines. Instead of in‑
herently rejecting “tradition”, the writers explored in our chapters choose
what and how to reframe and repurpose from other works, as well as what
should be jettisoned. We contend that a constellation of associations is de‑
termined by both the author and the hope of a collective audience sharing
DOI: 10.4324/9781003441199-1
2 Katherine Ebury and Christin M. Mulligan
For Graham Allen too, “Intertextuality seems such a useful term because it
foregrounds notions of relationality, interconnectedness and interdepend‑
ence in modern cultural life” (5). Allen also reflects that it is important
for each account of intertextuality to reflect on its own ideological back‑
ground: “Every true vision of intertextuality starts with the unmanageable
and even unimaginable plural before defining itself (including its ideologi‑
cal stance) in its own particular modes of compression, reduction and con‑
densation” (232). For us, as the editors of the current volume, given we
have a specific investment in intertextuality as a progressive concept in
modern and contemporary literature, it makes sense to revisit the term’s
history in the light of that specific context. Here we draw upon examples
of how intertextuality was already working as a radical concept when it
was coined, appraising how each theorist or critic deploys within or be‑
yond specific political and ethical frameworks.
Allen has been writing about intertextuality for over 20 years and he
still suggests that it is impossible to offer “a fundamental definition of the
term. Such a project would be doomed to failure” (2). Instead Allen feels it
is more achievable to “return to the term’s history and to remind ourselves
of how and why it has taken on its current meanings and applications” (2).
We will therefore keep our definition brief and anchored in existing schol‑
arship, as well as focused on the aspects of intertextuality that are specific
to this volume. Intertextuality, in short, refers to the complex relation‑
ships between one text and other texts which are now taken to be inherent
to creativity. Intertextuality differs from older ideas about influence and
genetic source-hunting in several ways, but perhaps most importantly in
not creating a temporal hierarchy of literary authority: earlier texts can be
changed by newer ones and more recent texts are not merely belated. As
Dennis Cutchins explains,
years ago, are constantly in dialogue with other texts, suggests that West
Side Story can have an effect on the meaning of Romeo and Juliet, at
least for the person who has experienced both texts. (75)
Gertrude Postl writes that “the term intertextuality now refers to a gen‑
eral interconnectedness and mutual influence among texts, challenging the
assumption of a text as unified, independent, self‑enclosed entity” (298).
When the concept was first introduced in works by Kristeva in “Word,
Dialogue and Novel” (1966) and “The Bounded Text” (1966–1967) and
by Barthes in “The Death of the Author” (1967), these theorists explained,
respectively, that intertextuality expressed a view of the literary text as “a
mosaic of quotations” (66) and “a tissue of quotations drawn from the
innumerable centers of culture” (146). Metaphors for intertextuality such
as the “mosaic” and the “tissue” proliferate: in the first subsection of this
book, Ruth Daly and Philip Miles will work in detail with metaphors for
intertextuality, using the idea of the web and the mezzanine, respectively.
Hans Bertens explains Barthes’s view in its wider and more radical sense
that intertextuality is an effect of language and culture, rather than a delib‑
erate pastiche of materials by an author:
If one were to turn this use of the term “intertextuality” into a blue‑
print for a style of writing, Kristeva’s own texts would qualify. […]
Presenting herself not so much as author but as writer/reader (reader/
Introduction 5
writer), she allows other texts to speak on their own terms, constructing
dialogues or conversations rather than pursuing a streamlined argument
from above that subordinates other voices. This practice of what might
be called “intertextual writing” succeeds in unearthing in other texts
that which has not been explicitly said, producing yet additional layers
of meaning. By interconnecting other texts with her own, Kristeva cre‑
ates a multiplicity of intersecting voices that reflect any given political
and historical currents as well as the reading/writing experience of their
“author”. (302–303)
We will shortly turn more directly to how Kristeva’s theory is able to “re‑
flect any given political and historical currents”, but it is important to
acknowledge that she practices what she preaches. Kristeva is not just
asserting a theory of intertextuality but modeling how a self‑conscious
practice of intertextuality can transform writing: especially of note is the in‑
terconnection of “minor” forms to create something new and the emphasis
on the often under‑ or un‑observed features of a perhaps more canonical
work. To give just two examples from the many in this volume, Hanaway‑
Oakley emphasizes the experiences of the extremely minor character of the
blind stripling in Ulysses in the context of understudied blindness manuals
from the era and Woods’s writing about O’Farrell’s novel Hamnet focuses
on the historically occluded experiences of Anne Hathaway and Shake‑
speare’s children; the playwright himself only appears by elliptical allu‑
sion, off‑stage for the majority of the novel’s events, as it were. The very
invention of history in art and vice versa is the subject of both Woods and
Gehlawat, and as Kristeva prescribes, it is possible because the novels they
write about take an intertextual form. Similarly, Stougaard‑Neilsen writes
that in the case of Barthes,
of art is able to stand alone in its meaning, [and this] is for Bakhtin the
best, the most human part of any work of art. All texts, finally, depend
upon us” (Cutchins, 85). Bakhtin’s work also had a strong sense of history
and was well‑adapted to political readings, and as Allen summarizes, “At
the heart of Bakhtin’s work is an argument that the dialogic, heteroglot as‑
pects of language are essentially threatening to a unitary, authoritarian and
hierarchical conception of society, art and life” (29), so that “Bakhtin’s vi‑
sion concerns a process of constant struggle, a constant unfinished dialogue
within specific social situations” (57). These progressive aspects in Bakhtin
stand behind the concept of intertextuality as Kristeva claims in a retro‑
spective essay: the term was aimed to be “a way of introducing history into
structuralism” and thus increasing the political and ethical implications of
her ideas (10). The examples Kristeva gives of where history might be in‑
troduced via intertextuality are themselves progressive in terms of politics
and ethics: among many more neutral possible examples, she refers to Mal‑
larmé’s reading in anarchism informing his poem Coup de Dés and Proust’s
reading of articles about the Dreyfus Affair as important sources for A la
Recherche, concluding that “the post‑structuralist theme of intertextuality
also gave birth to an idea that I have been trying to work on ever since […]
namely that of the connection between ‘culture’ and ‘revolt’” (10–11).
While there are pleasures and questions for the individual subject in her
work, as in her thought “plurality, of self as well as of meaning, is seen as
the source of liberation and joy”, Kristeva is also deeply invested in collec‑
tive action (55). Her participation in the Tel Quel group also highlights the
potentially radical nature of the concept of intertextuality as the work of
the group “is understood in Marxist terms as an attack on the commodifi‑
cation of thought and writing” and as “anti‑humanist and anti‑authorial”
(32). Similarly, Barthes is explicit about the revolutionary potential of get‑
ting rid of the author‑god and transferring power to the reader, much as
a democratic state might emerge from an authoritarian government: he
writes that “by refusing to assign a ‘secret’, an ultimate meaning, to the text
[…] liberates what may be called an anti‑theological activity, an activity
that is truly revolutionary since to refuse to fix meaning is, in the end, to
refuse God and his hypostases—reason, science, law” (147)
For Kristeva and Barthes, who were both members of Tel Quel, con‑
cepts of intertextuality are used to challenge the bourgeois values that had
grown up around the figure of the author. Allen quotes Barthes to show
what Barthes admired about Kristeva were her challenges to orthodoxy in
thought and speech and, more broadly, to authority:
Julia Kristeva changes the place of things: she always destroys the
last prejudice, the one you thought you could be reassured by, could
take pride in; what she displaces is the already‑said, the déjà‑dit,
Introduction 7
i.e. the instance of the signified, i.e. stupidity; what she subverts is
authority – the authority of the monologic science, of filiation. (30)
Bakhtin, Barthes and Kristeva all advocated for active, empowered read‑
ers. The concept of intertextuality creates subjects who are not satisfied
with received wisdom, whether in relation to texts, or other people, or a
wider culture. Indeed, for Kristeva, “The notion of intertextuality replaces
that of intersubjectivity” (66). In short, intertextual writers and readers are
more likely to hear minority voices and to disrupt monoglossia––and thus
to hold progressive political and ethical views.
While intertextuality would retain its radical expression in feminist
and postcolonial criticism, to be discussed in more detail in the next
section, soon after Kristeva’s coining of the term we also see a move
towards a more neutral interest in intertextuality which treats it as a
critical tool among other options, including Harold Bloom’s The Anxi‑
ety of Influence (1973), as well as in early adaptation studies. While
Bloom only directly uses the term intertextual once, in the Preface to
his study (xxxii), and never refers to Kristeva, Allen notes that Bloom
means something deeper in using the word “influence” than the con‑
ventional understanding of the term before Kristeva and Barthes (132).
Bloom in fact describes an intertextual vision of writing that partially
undermines concepts of authorship and originality: he argues that po‑
etry after Milton is driven by the desire both to imitate great poets
and to conceal their debt to past poets through deliberate misreadings.
Bloom’s divergence from influence and source hunting is clear in the
temporality of his theory, in which the belated new poet can genuinely
affect and shape the work of a previous precursor, and in its openness
to an understanding of texts as circulating within culture so that an au‑
thor can have an intertextual relationship with the literature that they
have not even read (135). However, Allen suggests that Bloom’s theory
“is actually a defence against the plurality celebrated by Barthes and
Kristeva”, particularly with regard to popular culture (137). Indeed,
Gilbert and Gubar responded directly to Bloom in relation to a “patri‑
archal theory of literature” in developing their more radical feminist
“writing back” (46–50). Subsequent approaches to intertextuality fol‑
lowing Bloom are not inherently progressive and introduced a diver‑
gence from its origins with the Tel Quel group, which explains some
confusion in approaches to intertextuality that continues to exist today.
For a sustained and serious engagement with Bloom’s legacy within the
framework of the volume, see Miles in Chapter 1. The scholars we have
been quoting from in this section have previously acknowledged these
progressive aspects of the history of the concept of intertextuality, but no
one has yet fully followed up on these insights to form a full perspective
8 Katherine Ebury and Christin M. Mulligan
on the politics and ethics of intertextuality in the way that the present
volume attempts to do, both here in the introduction and in our chap‑
ters. We continue assembling this account in the following section.
the practice of ‘writing back’ may also have profound repercussions for
notions of authorship as such. […] There is a sense in which the literary
practice of writing back may lead to a doubling of authorship. Each
newly emerging postcolonial text that rewrites a canonical novel from
the perspective of a colonial subject […] bears an intertextual relation‑
ship to the original work. […] At the same time, it has been argued that
for a genuinely postcolonial writing to emerge, the act of ‘writing back’
can only be a first step; unless other forms of engagement follow, the
postcolonial author will continue to be mesmerized by her colonial past.
(316–317)
While I agree with the critique of the theological principle [of the au‑
thor] within the text, I would also suggest that what is required is a
historicization and contextualisation of the author as an embodied sub‑
ject. By opening out the process of writing to the contexts of authorship,
such a feminist approach would not de‑limit or resolve the text, but
complicate it. (123)
her use of Bakhtin (26). Kristeva wishes to give voice to other authors and
other texts and to treat them as interlocutors: this is part of her progres‑
sive perspective on the concept, even as eventually “prior text materials
lose special status by permutation with others in the intertextual exchange
because all intertexts are of equal importance in the intertextual process”
(28). Orr discusses quotation and citation more directly later, writing that
“Despite very different emphases, intertextuality, influence, and imitation
all include [quotation] within their aegis and agree on its identification”
(130). Due citation, as well as effective placement and reflective response,
is part of the “mosaic” effect that Kristeva was seeking in coining the con‑
cept, as well as in her aim to introduce “history into structuralism” by
identifying markers that flesh out a historical context. While Kristeva’s
work is more scrupulous with citation than the concept of intertextuality
might sound at first, Ahmed’s concept of citation is more flexible and less
academic than it sounds and often works like a mental library or memory
bank which inspires praxis. For example, Ahmed writes,
Ahmed then lists key companion texts for the Living a Feminist Life pro‑
ject, including Virginia Woolf’s Mrs Dalloway, George Eliot’s The Mill on
the Floss, Rita Mae Brown’s Rubyfruit Jungle and Toni Morrison’s The
Bluest Eye; these texts are allowed to shape both Ahmed’s writing and her
ethical and political investments in her broader life (16–17). Ahmed’s ver‑
sion of intertextuality shares some similarities with Jess Mason’s concept
of a “mental archive”, a library existing in readers’ memories which they
compare other books against, as well as her interest in collective reading
practices such as book groups (72). Mason’s monograph offers a cognitive
stylistics approach to intertextuality, both in written texts and in spoken
discourse. Ahmed also describes transformative feminist activist commu‑
nities in which books are shared and become “spaces of encounter” and
“an archive whose fragility gives us responsibility” (2017, 17). This ver‑
sion of intertextuality as a space of encounter is inspiring for the volume
as a whole. Although Crenshaw’s and Ahmed’s work inspired the genesis
of this collection for us as editors, we are considerate of how each chapter
Introduction 13
defines progressive intertextuality for the particular author and case study
and how they see its development through modern and contemporary lit‑
eratures by pursuing their own theoretical or historical interest. The pro‑
gressive nature of this volume, both ethically and politically, for us, means
that we would rather allow our authors room to discern for themselves
rather than drawing strict boundaries, which, to our minds, go against the
nature of how they describe the development of the intertextual, and its
progressive impact, in their works. So far, we have introduced a progres‑
sive account of intertextuality and offered some strands that have shaped
our understanding of the progressive, in what remains of the introduction
we introduce the volume’s structure and the work of our authors. The
essays are gathered under the rubrics of “metaphors”, “inclusivity” and
“interdisciplinarity”, yet even as individual contributions emphasize each
of these focal points, they each advance the book’s organizing argument by
demonstrating the progressive power of intertextuality in the modern and
contemporary literature.
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