The Introduction explains the collection’s argument, structure, and its interventions in the field. We challenge the fetishization of firsts in early modern drama studies, first performances, and first editions and highlight problems with privileging “maiden” performances and print “inceptions” of Renaissance plays over their ghost-like “afterlives” on the stage and page. Engaging with recent work in theatre and book history and editorial studies, the Introduction explores the idea that plays are indelibly marked and transformed by their transhistorical movement through different cultural sites of production and reception. We argue, in short, that the social, political, and aesthetic meanings of Renaissance drama were shaped by processes of renewal.

Although book historians have tended to date the beginnings of an established market for printed plays to the mid 1590s, the first year of play publication, 1584, saw four plays printed, two of them in multiple editions. More plays were printed in this year than the rest of the decade combined; it would be another sixteen years before a play went into multiple editions in a single year. This chapter asks what this strange year tells us about plays as printed, reprinted, and revived commodities. The four plays discussed are John Lyly’s Campaspe and Sappho and Phao, Robert Wilson’s The Three Ladies of London, and George Peele’s The Arraignment of Paris. All four plays have things to say about reviving stories and performance, and three went on to be reprinted. Attending to them as a kind of corpus, this chapter investigates their place in the histories of revival, reprinting, and dramaturgy.

This chapter considers Francis Kirkman’s Restoration reprints of two anonymous Tudor plays, Gammer Gurton’s Needle and Tom Tyler and His Wife. I argue both the form and contents of these reprints underscore the antiquity of English drama at a moment of its resurrection. The playbooks’ respective paratextual apparatus and contents tether them to the distant cultural and political past, while also gesturing to the extensive dramatic tradition that emerged over the course of a century. Each edition refers to publications or performances “about” or “near a hundred years ago.” Appearing when Restoration drama was developing a new idiom and updating pre-1642 professional plays to suit contemporary tastes, these reprints are resolutely old-fashioned. This essay argues the 1661 reprints of Tudor drama illuminate Restoration drama’s complex negotiation of its dramatic inheritance, in which English drama’s value derives partly from its longevity.

John Marston’s The Malcontent was first performed in 1603 by the Children of the Chapel Royal at the Blackfriars. It was quickly appropriated by the King’s Men, who performed it at the Globe the following year. It was printed three times in 1604, but there were no further editions, and neither is there any evidence of the play being performed again until 1635, when the diarist John Greene records a performance by the King’s Men at the Blackfriars on Saturday, February 28. This chapter considers the fragmentary remains of Greene’s diary and asks what it might tell us about the early performance history of The Malcontent and the wider practice of revival in early modern London while also reflecting on the challenges faced by scholars who attempt to interpret evidence, or the lack thereof.

This chapter explores the political implications of reprinting Othello in republican England. Recent scholarship has drawn attention to the publication of early modern drama during the mid seventeenth century, examining how the ban on theatrical performance and the circumstances of civil war and revolution shaped the production and reception of pre-Civil War plays. The chapter builds on these studies by situating Othello within the ideological currents of English republicanism, focusing on the ways in which Venice, the play’s setting, took on new and pressing significance during the 1650s as a model of kingless governance. Renowned both for its elitist, rather than populist, tendencies as well as for its institutional stability, Venice exemplified an aristocratic form of republicanism that promised to secure traditional social hierarchies. By reprinting Othello in 1655, the bookseller William Leake capitalized on the topicality and political associations of the play’s Venetian milieu.

Both John Milton and Andrew Marvell have been revaluated in recent years. Yet this is the first sustained scholarly work to compare the two great seventeenth-century poets. In his new book, which stands as the culmination of a distinguished academic career, Warren Chernaik examines the relationship of the two writers and their complex responses to their troubled times. The poets were close friends, yet the trajectory of their careers and their posthumous reputations differed significantly. As well as taking an active part in the major political and religious upheavals of their times, both poets engaged seriously with classical, Christian, and humanist thought. Combining close readings of their poetry and prose with detailed consideration of historical and intellectual context, Chernaik sheds fresh light on the enduring works of poets whose words still resonate strongly with today’s readers.

This chapter explores the role of poetics in theorizing blackness. That is, if the question of being is an abiding issue in black studies and if that question figures through discourses about black writing, how does poetics contribute to this study? Rather than engage blackness as a content in poems, the chapter considers poetry as an intervention in language. This attentiveness to language characterizes a kind of thinking that is manifest in poetics and that generates possibilities for engaging the philosophical relationship between expressiveness and blackness.

This chapter locates Claudia Rankine’s highly celebrated book Citizen in a lineage of African American artists participating in a similar mode of renovation, which is the production of distinctive kinds of poetry based on linking past artistry and heritage to forward-facing experimentation. It challenges how Citizen was treated as exceptional by the press and prize committees that celebrated it when in fact Rankine herself carefully put her poems and essays in conversation with a number of predecessors, including Richard Wright and Zora Neal Hurston, and with such contemporaries as Nikky Finney, Erica Hunt, and Harryette Mullen. It then connects Rankine to the younger writers Morgan Parker and Aurielle Marie, who, like Rankine and visual artist Glenn Ligon, adapted Hurston’s well-known essay "How It Feel to Be Colored Me" to new purposes. Lineage and innovation united with a heritage of renovation make Citizen outstanding and deserving of its accolades but not unique so much as an extension of innovative African American literary practice.

Sons and Lovers (1913) struggles to contain conflicting early directions in Lawrence’s prose fiction: a yearning of his own to show his characters’ psycho-emotional states – dramatically and situationally rendered, as encouraged by his mentors Ford Madox Ford and Edward Garnett – to be also diagnostic of broader cultural crises. Examination of the successive versions of the novel and of its immediate predecessor The Trespasser (1912), novels whose stages of writing, rewriting and revision weave chronologically around one another, helps explain Lawrence’s denigration of artistic form – his mentors’ touchstone – even as he was learning how to master it. His dissatisfaction with the result would push his writing along demanding new paths.

Both John Milton and Andrew Marvell have been revaluated in recent years. Yet this is the first sustained scholarly work to compare the two great seventeenth-century poets. In his new book, which stands as the culmination of a distinguished academic career, Warren Chernaik examines the relationship of the two writers and their complex responses to their troubled times. The poets were close friends, yet the trajectory of their careers and their posthumous reputations differed significantly. As well as taking an active part in the major political and religious upheavals of their times, both poets engaged seriously with classical, Christian, and humanist thought. Combining close readings of their poetry and prose with detailed consideration of historical and intellectual context, Chernaik sheds fresh light on the enduring works of poets whose words still resonate strongly with today’s readers.