This concluding chapter summarises the discussion on the four ‘special author’ representatives of absurdism that were presented in previous chapters. It emphasises that the term ‘absurd’ can be applied to literature in three ways, namely: as a prominent period style, as a category with philosophical implications and as a modern reworking of much older works. The chapter also describes how one can study the absurd in literature.

This chapter describes the dynamics of print publication of epigrams: their typical printed format, their place in the print market-place and the sequencing of large numbers of epigrams. Poets offered a variety of rationales for print publication (including appeals to the precedent of Martial) and often manifest anxiety about appearing in this more public medium. The ephemeral quality of so many epigrams also raised doubts about the appropriateness of publication. The licentious and at times libellous quality of epigrams sometimes led to censorship, as in their inclusion in the Bishops’ Ban of 1598. The generally ‘low’ nature of the genre complicated appeals to patronage in the dedications of printed epigram books. These concerns and challenges are explored through case studies involving Charles Fitzgeffry, Thomas Freeman and Ben Jonson.

This chapter focuses on Arcadia and Signals of Distress, and the relationship of the individual to the larger community, in particular the sense of marginality. In both novels, published in the early 1990s, new arrivals and existing inhabitants face uncertainty in periods of great transition. The two settings are contrasting. The first novel is decidedly urban, and, as Jim Crace says, ‘I'm addicted to the imperfections of city life’. However, key characters are drawn from the countryside. In both novels, certain individuals seem periodically at odds with both the landscape and the trajectory of history, and all of them explore the rituals of everyday existence, especially those of trade and desire, in a series of crises of identity and social conflicts. In the imaginary settings, the first unnamed and the second a rendition of an obscure backwater in the early nineteenth century, Crace creates what might be termed an ‘imaginary realism’.

This chapter surveys the absurd present in prose writing of the latter half of the twentieth century, considering the more recent developments in drama and briefly referencing several theoretical, popular and general areas. It starts with a section on Boris Vian, one of the contributors to absurdist theatre and the writer of I Spit on Your Graves, and then identifies a number of American and English-language absurdist novels, including John Fowles's Mantissa and Joseph Heller's Catch-22. The discussion also explores European absurdist prose, such as the works of Roland Topor and Cees Nooteboom, and women absurdist writers. The final part of the chapter discusses Sarah Kane, whose plays deal with human relations and usually involve extreme acts of sexuality and violence, and looks at absurdism in popular culture, thoughts and science.

Chapter 10, on political epigrams, examines the dynamics of political satire in manuscript poetry and the limits of political comment in printed epigrams books, with a special focus on Thomas Bastard's Chrestoleros. Certain moments of intense political controversy often provoked numerous topical epigrams and individual prominent political figures were often the subject of libellous attack in the genre. The chapter offers an extended of case study of epigrams on the life and career of the prominent legal and political figure Sir Edward Coke. Many of these were savagely partisan, but the final part of the chapter turns to epigrams by Robert Ayton, Richard Corbett and George Herbert that were nuanced and stoic in their political explorations.

This chapter discusses Winterson's third novel, The Passion. The Passion may be said to combine the parallel stories of two marginal witnesses to the Napoleonic wars, at the crucial moment in Hegelian World History when it was approaching its apocalyptic synthesis. One is Henri, a French soldier who joined the Grande armée because he wanted to be a drummer and ended up as chicken-neck wringer and personal cook to Napoleon. The other is Villanelle, a Venetian boatman's daughter who worked at the casino as a croupier until she was sold by her husband as a vivandière, or army prostitute. The combination of history with fantasy aligns The Passion with ‘historiographic metafiction’, the type of novel characterised by intense self-reflexivity and a relish in storytelling which Linda Hutcheon considers to be the best expression of the contradictory nature of the postmodernist ethos.