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Versions of incommensurability.

. . . les poetiques multipliees du monde ne se proposent qu'a ceux-la seuls qui tentent de les ramasser dans des equivalences qui n 'unifient pas.

. . . the multiple poetics of the world present themselves to those alone who attempt to gather them into equivalences that do not unify.(1)

Edouard Glissant, Le discours antillais

Comparison as it has come down to us from the "comparative method" developed across so many emergent fields in the nineteenth century is a highly normative procedure. An ideal or type is posited a priori or derived empirically from the similarities between various elements; this type in turn becomes the standard or criterion according to which judgments of value, of deviation, of inclusion or exclusion are proposed. Comparative literature owes its name to this method borrowed from the natural sciences, and indeed, some of its early academic practitioners believed that they could derive with scientific rigor the general laws and the universal history of world literature of which idealists could only dream.(2)

I begin with this brief evocation of the comparative method because though it may be largely forgotten in the humanities, it has, for lack of any sustained theoretical reflection on the subject of comparison, never been replaced. Consequently, the comparison of the cultural expressions of different languages, nations, peoples in practice seems always constrained by an invisible binary bind in which comparison must end either by accentuating differences or by subsuming them under some over-arching unity.(3) In the first case, which might more precisely be called "contrastive literature," emphasis falls on the differential, on the irreducible particularity of the work in question or the national character it reflects. In the second case similarity is underlined and the emphasis falls on the unification of diverse phenomena into general laws or even demonstrations of the unity of "human" nature.(4) Both modes of comparison depend on an initial generalization in the form of a criterion or norm, deployed either to differentiate or to generalize. As one critic puts it, "comparison is doubly generalizing: at its point of departure and its point of arrival."(5) At the current literary critical moment, heir on the one hand to the critique from various angles of the unity of the literary work and certainly of the unity of national character, and on the other hand to the critique, particularly from a postcolonial perspective, of pretensions to the general or even to the universal, the aims of the comparative method in literature or culture seem more than suspect; they seem downright obsolete.(6) This obsolescence is a symptom of the historical determinations of criticism;(7) it suggests too that reflection on the unexplored possibilities of comparative structures might also involve historicizing and contextualizing various modes of comparison.

This essay is a brief excursus into a mode of comparison produced by a particularly colonial disposition of power as described by Frantz Fanon in Black Skin, White Masks. I will argue that this text offers a description of the "equivalences that do not unify" which Glissant challenges the critic (in the last pages of his magisterial analysis of the postcolonial Antilles, Le discours antillais, quoted here in the epigraph) to seek as a mode for gathering together the multiple poetics of the world. Attempting to conceive of equivalences that do not unify points the way to a practice of comparison that might not synthesize similarities into a norm. My working hypothesis is that colonial comparison conflates two modes of comparison, qualitative and quantitative, thus producing a version of incommensurability which differs from our received definition of the incommensurable as "that which cannot be measured by comparison for lack of a common measure," suggesting instead a definition along the lines of "that comparison which cannot measure because its equivalences do not unify."

Incommensurability as the negation of common ground and therefore of the very possibility of comparative relation is often evoked as a remedy to the excesses of normative or assimilatory comparison. Rejecting the claim of the Western scientific mode of knowledge to judge by criteria internal to its own rules non-Western narrative modes of knowledge (a crucial basis for the legitimation of Western "cultural imperialism"), Jean-Francois Lyotard, for instance, argues that traditional cultures and modem cultures are incommensurable, each governed by "rules [that] are specific to each particular kind of knowledge."(8) He concludes that it is therefore "impossible . . . to judge the existence or validity of narrative knowledge on the basis of scientific knowledge and vice versa; the relevant criteria are different. All we can do is gaze in wonderment at the diversity of discursive species."(9) Attractive as this vision of radically discrete and autonomous heterogeneity may be as palliative to the assimilatory excesses of comparison, it exposes several problems. For one thing, comparison is not so much overcome as it is inverted: a judgment of incommensurability is still one based on comparison and therefore on a criterion, only its result is the determination of contrast rather than similarity, absolute difference rather than unity. Since comparison determines both what is inside and what is outside its compass, it is hard to distinguish, structurally at least, between what is above compare, what is beneath compare, or what is somewhere beyond or outside compare. To posit discourses or cultures as radically separate entities that do not conform to the same laws does not per se protect them from a judgment of value or the deployment of a norm, since incomparability can be a mark of superior or inferior worth. When Lord Macauley, for instance, declares in a famous minute that he has "certainly never met with any Orientalist who ventured to maintain that the Arabic and Sanscrit (sic) poetry could be compared to that of the great European nations," he means for that incommensurability to indicate inferior "worth."(10) Whatever functional difference might obtain between, let us say, Macauley's incomparability as "that which cannot be compared" and Lyotard's incommensurability as "that which cannot be measured by comparison," the point remains that both rely on comparison to determine what is beyond compare.

To say that a judgment of incommensurability is itself a judgment arrived at through comparison is also to indicate that such a judgment reserves a position or at least a point of view for the comparatist outside the comparison. Lyotard's very phrase, "gaze in wonderment at the diversity of discursive species," suggests the possibility of a distanced and panoramic perspective on a vast array of heterogeneous systems, a position from which, one might add, the observer could just as easily gaze acquisitively as in wonderment. The equivalence or common ground withdrawn from the objects under comparison reappears in the very stance of the comparatist: the objects have nothing in common but his unified vision. What remains unexamined is the location from which the comparison is offered. As Brace Robbins points out regarding the disinterested purview of the disengaged cosmopolitan, such a privileged and exterior apprehension endows cultures with the autonomy of esthetic objects, making them available in all their enclosed diversity to the collector's gaze.(11) In all fairness to Lyotard, I should make clear first that the references to incommensurability I have plucked from The Postmodern Condition are peripheral to the main line of his argument, and second that, though I have assimilated his comments to a cultural relativist position that defends the integrity of separate cultures, his interest is not so much in heterogeneous entities as it is in heterogeneous discourses or language games. All the same, despite its emphasis on modes of knowledge, his example of incommensurability offers a panoramic perspective on a heterogeneity made up of separate, autonomous entities.

Lyotard's prime motive in evoking incommensurability seems to be to banish similarity altogether, as though to punish excessive homogeneity with its opposite. But the similarity at issue in the word is of a very particular kind. Incommensurability, deriving from the Latin incommensurabilis, meaning "lack of a common measure" and rendered in dictionary definitions as "that which cannot be measured by comparison," foregrounds both the act of measurement and this measurement's dependence on a common denominator; incommensurability, in other words, inscribes a conjunction between similarity and value. The similarity at issue here is one that has already been instrumentalized as a norm; what two entities have in common can be used to measure them against each other or in a larger framework. To try and imagine a comparison or a setting into relation that is not normative or assimilatory, one would perhaps first want to look for a way of sundering the perception of similarity from the consolidation of a norm. Classical rhetoric makes such a distinction in its separation of comparison into two categories: similitudo, qualitative comparison ("Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?"), and comparatio, quantitative comparison ("Thou art more lovely and more temperate").(12) The conceit in these examples, the first two lines of Shakespeare's sonnet 18, is precisely to scramble the two rhetorical modes of comparison so that comparatio is turned on similitudo, converting the similarity grounding the metaphorical equivalence between the beloved and a summer day into the common denominator underlying a measurement by comparison. Comparatio can only occur in isotopic context, determining value according to rigidly defined realms; it enforces the comparison of apples with apples and oranges with oranges. Similitudo, on the contrary, depends on metaphor's transgression of isotopic contexts and encourages the comparison of apples with objects much further afield than oranges. Comparatio enforces preexisting similarities, whereas similitudo posits new resemblances, stretching the limits of a code. To combine them, as Shakespeare does, violates the ground rules of both comparisons: it is to compare apples to oranges and to measure according to strict categories an equivalence whose very point is to transgress those categories. While comparatio's measure by comparison is clearly bound by historical, discursive, and institutional factors, since it determines the value and legitimacy of basic systems of order,(13) similitudo, on the contrary, flaunts the flexibility of existing categories, though its intelligibility too depends in the final analysis on cultural norms.(14) Thus, though apparently in opposition to each other, these two modes of deploying similarity are not by any means mutually exclusive. It is outside the scope of my essay to explore this complex issue in great detail. Here I want merely to mark the difference between similitudo and comparatio and the importance of their complementarity in order to attend more carefully to their conflation in Fanon's description of Antillean comparison.

The version of incommensurability which posits a radical separation between autonomous systems seems problematic in a colonial context simply because colonialism is a complex of social, economic, and cultural practices predicated precisely on the eradication of autonomous realms. Subsuming the globe under its law, it sets all differences into relation with European metropolitan powers as the economic center and the cultural standard. Here Lyotard's definition of incommensurability in terms of systems or laws rather than objects takes on a particular resonance. In The Differend he writes that the criterion for incommensurability is "the impossibility of subjecting them [phrase regimens] to a single law (except by neutralizing them)."(15) Colonialism is indeed the imposition of a single law, at least in the cultural realm, for the civilizing mission brings everything into comparison; the world it imagines is composed, if one may say so, only of apples. However, while this unlimited comparability denies incommensurability as starting ground, incommensurability, I will argue, becomes a product of colonial comparisons. Colonialism may, to varying degrees, neutralize the differences that distinguished colonized cultures, but a whole set of differential effects takes their place.

The demand colonial society makes on the black man, particularly the black man from the Antilles, where no original culture survived colonialism, Frantz Fanon asserts in Peau noire, masques blancs, is to "blanchir ou disparaitre" (whiten or disappear).(16) Heeding the call of assimilation, the evolue endeavors to acquire French civilization through education, language, culture, behavior. From his(17) standpoint on the distant islands, he takes whiteness figuratively as the sign for the most advanced stage of the civilization whose universal standard has deemed his society inferior. Indeed, the civilizing mission, predicated on an evolutionary teleology that has determined whiteness the cultural standard, necessarily makes that culture available to acquisition, to general dissemination. But, along the way, on his journey to the metropolis, the evolue will encounter in racial difference an insuperable obstacle to assimilation: "L'Antillais qui va en France afin de se persuader de sa blancheur y trouve son veritable visage" (The Antillean who goes to France to convince himself of his whiteness finds there instead his true face; PN, 145n). The black man finds himself doubly bound by the contradictory injunction of white culture: you must be like me, you can't be like me. This paradox can be formulated as the internally necessary contradiction of a certain structure of identity, as David Lloyd shows: "The process of assimilation . . . requires that which defines the difference between the elements to remain over as a residue."(18) In order for white culture to remain itself, it must be differentiated from the black. Short of undoing the superiority and integrity of white culture, the black man therefore cannot, by definition, figuratively whiten. The residue of initial differentiation - blackness - must remain.

What emerges starkly from this paradox is the necessary association between qualitative and quantitative comparison, similitudo and comparatio. The bounding of particular domains according to similarity (the black, the white) is converted directly to a standard of comparison which disposes objects hierarchically (the white as standard); if the realm of similitude is breached, the standard of comparison founders. This production of residual difference may be characteristic of all structures of identity, as Lloyd claims, but it seems to me peculiarly perverted in the colonial context, because the culture of colonialism claims universality on the grounds of an explicitly comparative evaluation. Such an englobing standard cannot on the one hand be identified with particular people - that is, revert from concept or trope of whiteness to actual white people - without weakening its generalizing force, but on the other hand it cannot extend to those it excludes without losing its authority to differentiate. The assimilated black man or evolue is caught between his acceptance of whiteness as a transcendent universal quality and his encounter with whiteness as simple and brute skin pigmentation.

According to Fanon, what results for the colonized is an existence caught in differential comparison. Fanon elaborates his concept by stating his "first truth":

Les negres sont comparaison. Premiere verite. Ils sont comparaison, c'est-a-dire qu'a tout moment ils se preoccupent d'auto-valorisation et d'ideal du moi. Chaque fois qu'ils se trouvent en contact avec un autre, il est question de valeur, de merite. Les Antillais n'ont pas de valeur propres, ils sont toujours tributaires de l'apparition de l'Autre. (PN, 191)

Negroes are comparison. First truth. They are comparison, that is, at every moment they are preoccupied with autovalorization and with the Ego ideal. Whenever they are in contact with another, there is concern with value, merit. Antilleans have no proper value; they are always tributaries to the apparition of the Other.

The stark assertion "Negroes are comparison" by itself unsettles both the tropic (similitudo) and evaluative (comparatio) grounds of comparison in a move that seems to me characteristic in various ways of the entire text of Peau noire, masques blancs.(19) Nothing in the sentence's structure or its context directs us with any certainty toward a metaphorical or a literal reading. This undecidability is crucial in that it participates in the erosion of the difference between figurative comparison and evaluative comparison. Is the copula of the verb to be binding Negroes and comparison a metaphorical equivalence: the Negroes are "like" comparison? What might it mean to be like comparison - that is to say, like likeness or like likening? The sentence loses nothing of its vertigo if we read the copula as a statement of identity, for how can we think our way around a person being identical to the process of identification itself rather than to something else, an ego ideal, for instance.

What could it mean to be comparison? The matter is complicated by the plural subject, "Negroes,"(20) for while we might at the limit imagine an individual caught in the process of comparison, how do we conceive a collectivity all at once and together in identity with comparison? The pluralization of the subject of comparison is crucial here, since the thrust of this whole passage is to revise Adlerian ego psychology based on the individual to what Fanon insists in the Martinican case is fundamentally an inferiority complex rooted in the social neurosis resulting from colonialism's destroying any "proper value" for the Antillean. As Fanon puts it: "La societe antiliaise est une societe nerveuse, une societe 'comparaison'. Donc nous sommes renvoyes de l'in-dividu a la structure sociale" (Antillean society is a neurotic society, a society of comparison. Hence we are sent back from the individual to the social structure; PN, 192). Just as colonial ideology defines an unlimited field for comparability, so too its effects exceed individual beings and come to shape whole sociocultural complexes. The consequent disjunctions are internal to the process of comparison itself.

In order to distinguish Antillean social neurosis from Adlerian individual neurosis, Fanon produces a schema for the comparison he has in mind:

Le Martiniquais ne se compare pas au Blanc, considere comme le pere, le chef, Dieu, mais se compare a son semblable sous le patronage du Blanc. Une comparaison adlerienne se schemarise de la maniere suivante:

"Moi plus grand que l'Autre."

La comparaison antiliaise, par contre, se presente ainsi:

Blanc/Moi different de l'Autre (PN, 194)

The Martinican does not compare himself to the White man, considered as father, leader, God, but compares himself to his similars [other Martinicans] under the White man's patronage. An Adlerian comparison can be schematized in the following manner:

"Ego greater than the Other"

The Antillean comparison, in contrast, presents itself thus:

White/Ego different from the Other

As Lloyd elaborates, this revised Adlerian comparison places one term above, "self-identical, the metaphor of metaphorical identity: white." This elevation of the white man to "the universally representative man," however, produces a relation among the blacks of "pure difference," "a suspension in perpetual comparison."(21) As Lloyd's choice of words makes clear, the element which Fanon adds to the Adlerian comparison, "White," functions at once and indistinguishably as metaphor, invoking the similarity of similitudo and as a universal standard, setting the norm of comparatio. If the distinction between these modes of comparison fueled Shakespeare's conceit in sonnet 18, the collapse of that distinction here characterizes a particular mode of colonial comparison. Adlerian comparison describes the overcompensation of an individual's feelings of inferiority through direct access (via comparison) to a "governing fiction" or model. Since the Antillean cannot enter into comparison directly with the white standard, he can only measure himself by it in comparison with others like him, other blacks. Similarity such as it emerges here is construed as difference from difference. The Martinican can compare himself to the white only with respect to his difference from the differences of others like himself. Moreover, the terms under the bar are necessarily plural, but the comparison in which they engage alienates and differentiates one from the other indefinitely. The equivalences between Martinicans indeed cannot ever unify so long as they are fixed under the bar of difference. Antillean comparison produces, strictly speaking, incommensurable subjects - subjects who, despite their total imbrication in a process of comparison, can never be fully measured by it - and rather than fixing them into autonomous realms, that incommensurability launches them instead into a differential flux.

A similarity constituted as difference from difference can never coalesce into a standard and therefore produce a measurement by comparison. In this lies its claim to incommensurability. Difference here is not the radical separation of singular entities but the differential effect of an impossible identification. There is no position for the comparatist outside, beyond the objects under comparison from which to gaze down in wonderment; on the contrary, the Antillean comparatist speaks from within, or even in the guise of, the comparison. In its very extremity, the version of incommensurability we can discern in Fanon's analysis of Antillean comparison permits us to grasp with some precision what equivalences that do not unify might be and what sorts of forms an engaged or even imbricated comparatism might take.

While the paradox of colonial racism provides one mode of conceiving of equivalences that do not unify, the extension of such equivalences to the practice of comparing cultures or literatures would require a full elaboration. As a first step in this direction, one might note that the Martinican poet, novelist, and theorist Edouard Glissant's enigmatic directive which hovers over this essay as an epigraph ("the multiple poetics of the world present themselves to those alone who attempt to gather them into equivalences that do not unify") suggests a transvaluation of the kind of colonial comparison Fanon outlines. If we can see in Fanon the West's englobing comparison overreaching itself and collapsing onto its colonized subjects, then Glissant, to use one of his words, "relays" the momentum of this collapse to its logical conclusion, "l'epars infini de la Relation" (the infinite dispersal of Relation).(22) If the colonial comparison tips measure into incommensurability by subsuming all similarity into comparatio's standard, conjuring a world that would be all apples, then perhaps we might imagine the world of "Relation" Glissant projects as one in which the balance tips over into similitudo. In this disposition of equivalences, a transversal sequence of similarities and conjunctions proliferates without ever unifying into a standard; comparison here cannot measure because it gathers equivalences that do not unify. Instead of the panorama of multiple, discrete, and autonomous systems Lyotard envisages, Glissant's "epars infini de la Relation" presents the extension of one, internally multiplying, incommensurable code.

Cornell University

1 Edouard Glissant, Le discours antillais, Paris, Seuil, 1981, p. 466. My rather literal translation. Michael Dash's translation reads as follows: ". . . the proliferation of visions of the world is meant only for those who try to make sense of them in terms of similarities that are not to be standardized." Caribbean Discourse, Charlottesville, University Press of Virginia, 1989, p. 254. Dash's emphasis.

2 The application to literature of the comparative method in its scientific guise is associated with, for instance, Ferdinand Brunetiere and Hutcheson Macaulay Posnett. For a summary of this view at the turn of the century, see Charles Mills Gayley, "What Is Comparative Literature?" Atlantic Monthly, 92 (1903), pp. 56-68; reprinted in Comparative Literature, the Early Years: An Anthology of Essays, eds. Hans Joachim Schulz and Phillip H. Rhein, Chapel Hill, University of North Carolina Press, 1973, pp. 85-108.

3 Anna Balakian's presentation for the panel at the MLA at which this paper was delivered was a spirited appeal for generalizing and unifying comparison in view of what she sees as the divisive and separatist emphasis on cultural difference (see this issue of WLT, pp. 263-67). The first questioner attempted to make of my presentation the opposing view. I deflected the question then, partly because I have neither the inclination nor the sex to engage in the Oedipal agons of institutional generations and partly because, generationally at least, this isn't my fight in the first place. As I attempt to outline here, where a previous generation set the disciplinary debate between generalists and particularists, cosmopolitanists and provincialists, the question now seems to center not on what the ends of comparison ought to be but on whether comparison is a viable operation at all.

4 In the late fifties these two modes of comparison were roughly coincident with positions in the debate on comparative literature held respectively by the French and American schools. See Rene Wellek, "The Crisis in Comparative Literature," in Proceedings of the ACLA II, vol. 1, 1959, pp. 149-59.

5 Adrian Marino, Comparatisme et theorie de la litterature, Paris, PUF, 1988, p. 243; my translation.

6 Among recent appeals for reconception of the discipline, see for instance Edward Said, who, in Culture and Imperialism (New York, Knopf, 1993, pp. 43-61), explores the development of the discipline of comparative literature against the background of the concurrent consolidation of imperialism and suggests replacing the exclusive and idealizing practice of comparison with a mode of "contrapuntal" reading. For a provocative theoretical elaboration of the challenges emergent literatures pose to the monumentalizing function of comparative literature, see Wlad Godzich, "Emergent Literature and Comparative Literature," in The Comparative Perspective on Literature, eds. Clayton Koelb and Susan Noakes, Ithaca, N.Y., Cornell University Press, 1988, pp. 18-36. For a multifaceted consideration of the discipline from a feminist perspective, see Borderwork: Feminist Engagements with Comparative Literature, ed. Margaret Higonnet, Ithaca, N.Y., Cornell University Press, 1994. The latest Report on Standards released by the American Comparative Literature Association suggests reforms roughly along the lines toward which these and other critics point.

7 Susan Bassnett, in her Comparative Literature: A Critical Introduction (Oxford, Blackwell, 1993), makes an interesting argument for the link between the concurrent developments of nationalism in the competition among nations and the rise of comparative literature. It is, according to her, precisely because comparative literature did not fulfill the function of consolidating a national tradition in competition with other nations in the United States that this country became the vanguard of comparative literature's most generalizing and idealizing aspect. She points out that comparative literature outside Europe is often very explicitly framed as the proper method for building a national literature.

8 Jean-Francois Lyotard, The Postmodern Condition: A Report on Knowledge, trs. Geoff Bennington and Brian Massumi, Minneapolis, University of Minnesota Press, 1984, p. 23.

9 Ibid., p. 26.

10 Minute addressed by Lord Macauley to Lord Bentinck, Governor General of India, 2 February 1835; reprinted in Imperialism: The Documentary History of Western Civilization, ed. Philip D. Curtin, New York, Walker, 1971, p. 53.

11 "Bruce Robbins, "Comparative Cosmopolitanism," Social Text, 31/32 (1992), p. 56.

12 For a discussion of this distinction, see Paul Ricoeur, La metaphore vive, Paris, Seuil, 1975, pp. 236-37.

13 See especially Michel Foucault, Les mots et les choses, Paris, Gallimard, 1966, preface, chapter 1 section on "Les quatres similitudes," and chapter 3 section on "l'imagination de la ressemblance."

14 Deborah Durham and James Fernandez go so far as to argue that understanding metaphor not only presumes a shared culture but constitutes it: "[The creation of metaphor is] . . . a joint recognition of these shared understandings - that is, culture in a fundamental sense." "Tropical Dominions: The Figurative Struggle over Domains of Belonging and Apartness in Africa," in Beyond Metaphor: The Theory of Tropes in Anthropology, ed. James Fernandez, Stanford, Ca., Stanford University Press, 1991, p. 196.

15 Jean-Francois Lyotard, The Differend: Phrases in Dispute, tr. Georges Van Den Abbeele, Minneapolis, University of Minnesota Press, 1988, p. 128.

16 Frantz Fanon, Peau noire, masques blancs, preface & postface by Francis Jeanson, Paris, Seuil, 1952, p. 100. Henceforth cited in the text as PN. My translation.

17 I maintain the masculine pronoun throughout, as Fanon reserves this experience of assimilation specifically to Martinican men. The question of gender difference in structures of comparison, colonial or otherwise, requires a separate elaboration.

18 David Lloyd, "Race Under Representation," Oxford Literary Review, 1-2 (1991), p. 76. I have benefitted a great deal from this essay's discussion of Fanon along with other authors in an argument for the conjunction of the narrative of self-formation, the structure of metaphor, and the constitution of the judging subject in the cultural definition of race. My approach differs from Lloyd's chiefly in that he approaches this passage in Fanon to illuminate the metaphorical structure of assimilation, whereas I - forgive the chiasmus - seek in it insight into the assimilatory structure of comparison.

19 Time prevents me from elaborating this analysis fully. Peau noire, masques blancs deploys multiple discourses to diagnose and cure the problems revealed in racial assimilation (it is a text that aims not only to interpret but to change, and it aims to do this both through analysis and through poetic transformation of voice and language). On one register this involves the thoroughgoing critique of comparative evaluations of the black man (especially in psychology); on another register it involves an extraordinary and anguished performance of the metaphorical language both of racism and of negritude. In this sense, the text seems to me to express most fully the murderous conjunction of tropic and evaluation comparison.

20 The only English translation I know unaccountably turns the plural "les negres" into the singular "the Negro." See Frantz Fanon, Black Skin, White Masks, tr. Charles Lam Markmann, New York, Grove, 1967, p. 211. The translation is generally sound, but some of its idiosyncrasies have resulted in interestingly inaccurate critical appropriations, particularly with respect to the title of the much-commented chapter rendered in English as "The Fact of Blackness" from the French original "L'experience vecue du noir."

21 Lloyd, p. 84.

22 Glissant, p. 153.

NATALIE MELAS teaches Comparative Literature at Cornell University. She is working on a book about comparison and the problem of the multicultural.
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Title Annotation:Comparative Literature: States of the Art.
Author:Melas, Natalie
Publication:World Literature Today
Date:Mar 22, 1995
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