“World literature” and “resistance” seldom appear together in the same sentence. Why is this?
Could it be because we have somehow come to consider world literature as “polite” literature – as the canon of masterpieces produced by elite networks of literary prestige?
Or could it be because we now regard world literature as what comes after the militant resistance literatures written from the 1930s to the 1970s, as if the magnificent narratives of decolonization and neocolonial agonistics that we associate with the postcolonial era have given way to a new literary dispensation – a more globalized literature perhaps, more cosmopolitan in its affinities, less committed to physical geographies of revolt?