This chapter examines the ways in which speech could become entangled with non-human orders of identity in medieval texts, at once as a theoretical concept and as a concrete effect of scribal mise en texte. The first part considers encyclopedic and literary works that imagined human speech as something other than the natural possession of humanity, situating this power within a complex coordination between the human, the bestial, and the divine. The second section uses these ideas at the margins of the medieval discourse on the rational-discursive faculty as a lens to interpret the effects of punctuation in medieval manuscripts containing works of beast literature, arguing that the right conditions came together in these codices for an analogous entanglement of human and non-human meanings to arise as a literal effect in the course of reading: The identities and utterances of speakers of different species could blur together on the page, highlighting ambiguities in the relationship between speech and species identity that were encoded into the composition of the works themselves.

This chapter examines Allen Ginsberg’s “Plutonian Ode” as a powerful expression of ecological concern shaped by the poet’s long-standing engagement with industrial modernity. Building on earlier works such as “Howl,” Ginsberg’s poem intensifies his critique of environmental degradation, using vivid language and mythic imagery to address the ethical and existential implications of nuclear technology. I trace the evolution of Ginsberg’s ecological thought, arguing that “Plutonian Ode” reflects Ginsberg’s deepening awareness of humanity’s complex relationship with nature and technology. The poem’s fragmented form mirrors the disorientation of nuclear threat, while its ritualistic references reframe technological advancement as both reverent and destructive. Drawing on ecocritical frameworks, the chapter highlights how Ginsberg positions poetry as a vehicle for reflection and resistance. Rather than offering simple solutions, “Plutonian Ode” invites readers to consider the long-term impact of environmental decisions and to reflect on the responsibilities shared in an increasingly uncertain ecological future.

Ginsberg was a ceaseless experimenter, constantly pushing boundaries whether personal, social, or literary. Drug use was one such privileged means of attaining the transcendent states that Beat writers such as Ginsberg coveted. Ginsberg began his experimentations while at Columbia, keeping detailed notes of his experiences and remaining vigilant that his experimentation did not turn into addiction. Exploring psychedelics with Timothy Leary alerted Ginsberg to the wider social possibilities of its use, and he became famous worldwide as an advocate of drug experimentation. While his use waned later in life, Ginsberg was a firm believer in the power of drugs to challenge current depictions of reality, all the while remaining honest and open about their deleterious effects. Ginsberg openly called for the legalization of many drugs, broader experimentation both socially and scientifically, and castigated US drug policies and their negative consequences. This chapter explores the reasons for Ginsberg’s use of drugs, his advocacy for them, and the various poems he wrote while under the influence of substances collected mainly in Kaddish and Other Poems (1961).

This chapter discusses the concept of revolution in Carpentier’s works, as it moves from an enthusiastic critique of the modern social order to leftist melancholia. As Rojas shows in his readings of Carpentier’s articles for Carteles and correspondence with José Antonio Portuondo, Carpentier did not take a clear stance toward Stalinism while living in Paris. When living in Venezuela, his Diario is full of critical allusions to the party’s “yoke.” However, a poetics of revolution can be found in his narrative and can be characterized as melancholic in its emphasis on cyclical patterns and on unfinished revolutions. Carpentier’s focus on the global revolutions that made the modern world order beginning in the eighteenth century narrows down in his last epic novel, La consagración de la primavera.

This essay offers an overview both of Alejo Carpentier’s writings and González Echevarría’s own work as a literary critic, especially as it pertains to his monograph, Alejo Carpentier: The Pilgrim at Home (1977). He traces the arc of Carpentier’s works, beginning with ¡Ecué-Yamba-Ó! and ending with El arpa y la sombra pointing to recurrent, highly original themes such as Afro-Cuban culture, classical music and jazz, colonial history, and exile, all the while noting Carpentier’s dialogue with a younger generation of Latin American writers. González Echevarría comments on the influence exerted by the concept of “the marvelous real” on Boom writers and magical realism. The essay ends by reflecting on Carpentier’s lies about his biography and points to similarities in his last novel, El arpa y la sombra (1978), between the character Christopher Columbus’s penchant to lie and his foreignness, and Carpentier himself.

This chapter explores Allen Ginsberg’s stay at the now-famous Beat Hotel. Ginsberg, along with his lover Peter Orlovsky and fellow Beat poet Gregory Corso, spent an important sojourn at this spot in Paris. Located in the Latin Quarter, this run-down hotel would come to house other Beats such as William S. Burroughs and Harold Norse as well. Ginsberg’s time there was productive. He produced “At Apollinaire’s Grave” while in Paris and began his long poem “Kaddish” as well, while simultaneously seeing the sights and meeting a variety of famous French poets and artists.

A shared relationship to the city of Paterson, New Jersey, provided common ground for Ginsberg and William Carlos Williams. A key figure in modernist poetry, Williams helped to modernize Ginsberg’s verse through both example and personal instruction. The influence is especially notable in the early work collected in Ginsberg’s Empty Mirror and in poems of the mid 1950s, leading up to Howl, published with an introduction by Williams. Eventually, the two diverged over the structure of the poetic line and the relation of the poet to popular culture. Nevertheless, both in his poetry and in his teaching, Ginsberg continued to honor Williams as one of his masters.

This chapter explores a number of key questions concerning Ginsberg’s choosing India to revive his spiritual, historical, and class-conscious searches through his travels. Ginsberg, as he was Jack Kerouac’s protégé, repeated Jim Crow patterns of white–Other engagement throughout his life and could therefore be seen as insensitive. Another key question has to do with the authenticity of such searches – was Ginsberg really seeking Hindu advice as to how to organize poetry and protest, now that India had been freed from the British? All of these questions raise the issue of Hindu revivalism, which meant taking off the cape of colonial submission that rendered Hinduism to be a kind of penitent orientalism. In the end, was Ginsberg’s trek unique, or did it coincide with other colonial adventures?

While Ginsberg was certainly influenced by earlier generations of writers stretching back to the Metaphysical Poets, contemporary writers were also instrumental in helping him craft his own poetic vision. Foremost among them was his friend Jack Kerouac, who became a source of inspiration, guidance, and mentorship for Ginsberg throughout his life. This chapter explores the twenty-five years of profound yet tumultuous relationship that developed between the two writers, from their encounter in New York City in 1944 to Kerouac’s death in 1969. While their passionate and sometimes turbulent friendship sparked Ginsberg’s creative energy, Ginsberg drew heavily on Kerouac’s themes and stylistics – including his writing method of “spontaneous prose” – which became central to his own poetical voice. Though their relationship eventually fractured in the 1960s owing to political differences and rivalry, Kerouac continued to play a crucial role in shaping Ginsberg’s growth both as a writer and as an individual.