Paper 208: Comparative Literature & TranTranslationTranTranslationslationslation Studies

 

The Translational Turn and the Digital Turn: Two Rescues of Comparative Literature

• Assignment Details

Paper :  208 - Comparative Literature & TranTranslationTranTranslationslationslation Studies

Topic : The Translational Turn and the Digital Turn: Two Rescues of Comparative Literature

Submitted to - Smt. S.B.Gardi Department of English M.K.B.U.

• Personal Information

Name: Nikita Vala 

Batch: M.A. Sem - 4(2024-2026)

Enrollment Number: 5108240089 

Roll No: 17

Table of contents

• Abstract

• Introduction

• Crisis of Comparative Literature

• Translational Turn (Bassnett)

• Digital Turn (Presner)

• Convergences and Tensions

• Self-Renewal of the Discipline

• Conclusion

• References

Abstract
Comparative Literature has long struggled with questions of legitimacy, method, and relevance. This paper examines two key responses to these recurring crises: the translational turn, articulated by Susan Bassnett and expanded by Doris Bachmann-Medick, and the digital turn, proposed by Todd Presner. Drawing on recent scholarship, including Zheng, Tyulenev, Marais, and Rossouw, it argues that both approaches address the same underlying issue the discipline’s inability to operate at the scale its comparative aims require. Rather than viewing them separately, the paper suggests that the translational and digital turns are part of an ongoing process of disciplinary self-renewal. Ultimately, Comparative Literature survives not by resolving its crises but by absorbing them, continually reshaping its identity while maintaining an openness that is both its weakness and its greatest strength.

Introduction
Comparative Literature has long struggled with questions of legitimacy, method, and identity. As Susan Bassnett (1993) observes, critics since the nineteenth century have debated its object of study, the role of comparison, and whether it is a coherent discipline or merely a loose collection of interests. By the 1990s, the field faced declining relevance in Western academia, losing both students and intellectual ground to emerging fields like cultural studies, postcolonial studies, and gender theory.

Two decades later, Todd Presner (2011) identified a new crisis shaped by the rise of digital culture, which transformed how knowledge is produced and accessed. This shifted the problem from methodological uncertainty to one of relevance in a rapidly changing intellectual landscape.

Both moments give rise to “rescue discourses”  attempts to renew the discipline through engagement with other fields. Bassnett turned to translation studies, arguing it better reflects comparative literature’s practice, while Presner looked to digital humanities for new tools and methods.

This essay argues that these are not separate solutions but part of a continuous process of disciplinary self-renewal. Comparative Literature does not resolve its crises; it absorbs them, reshaping itself around new methodologies while maintaining an openness that ensures both its instability and its enduring strength.

The Crisis as Constitutive Feature

Before turning to the two proposed rescues themselves, it is worth pausing to examine the nature of the crisis more carefully, because there is a real risk of treating it as a contingent historical misfortune  a period of difficulty that the discipline happened to pass through  rather than as something more structurally significant. Bassnett is admirably precise in her diagnosis of the specific symptoms. She identifies falling student numbers in Western universities as the most visible sign of trouble. She notes the deep uneasiness of comparatists when asked to define their own subject with any precision an uneasiness that tends to produce either vague gestures toward breadth and universality or a retreat into the kind of narrowly binary comparison of two authors or two national traditions that was already felt to be inadequate when it was first articulated (Bassnett, 1993). And she identifies the persistence of "the old idea of comparative literature as binary study"  the comparison of two authors or texts from two supposedly different literary systems  despite the fact that the fundamental problem of how to define what constitutes a distinct literary system had never been satisfactorily resolved.

The important thing Bassnett adds, however, is that this uncertainty was not new to the 1990s. It was not a recent deterioration. As early as 1903, the Italian philosopher Benedetto Croce had dismissed comparative literature as a non-subject, a discipline without a genuine object of inquiry. By the 1950s, René Wellek had given the condition its famous name  "the crisis of Comparative Literature" suggesting that the discipline had been in a state of ongoing existential uncertainty for at least half a century by the time he wrote. What Bassnett adds to this genealogy, writing from the perspective of the early 1990s, is the observation that the crisis has by then reached a qualitatively new stage: the discipline "appears less like a discipline and more like a branch of something else" (Bassnett, 1993). It has not merely failed to resolve its foundational questions; it has ceded so much ground to adjacent formations that its distinctiveness as a field of study has become genuinely difficult to defend.

The irony that Bassnett identifies at this juncture is both sharp and historically significant. Precisely at the moment when comparative literature appears to be losing ground in the West  losing students, losing methodological confidence, losing institutional prestige to newer formations  it is simultaneously expanding with great dynamism in Asia, Africa, Latin America, and India, where it is being deployed not as a liberal-humanist project of universal aesthetic appreciation but as a tool for exploring indigenous literary traditions in relation to one another and in relation to imported literary systems, and, crucially, for asserting national and regional cultural identities in the aftermath of colonialism. Bassnett draws on scholars like Ganesh Devy and Swapan Majumdar to demonstrate that in India, comparative literature has been directly and intimately tied to the rise of modern nationalism and the project of constructing a national cultural identity from enormously diverse regional traditions  a use of comparison that is entirely foreign to the liberal-humanist universalism that originally underpinned its European incarnation (Bassnett, 1993).

This global unevenness in the discipline's vitality is itself an argument, and a powerful one. The crisis of comparative literature is not a universal crisis of comparison as an intellectual operation. It is a specifically Western crisis, rooted in the exhaustion of a Eurocentric model of literary comparison that simply cannot function in the same way outside the cultural and institutional contexts  the great metropolitan research universities, the tradition of Weltliteratur inherited from Goethe and institutionalised by the likes of Wellek and Warren  in which it was originally conceived and developed.

This diagnosis resonates with particular force alongside Bachmann-Medick's argument in "The Translational Turn" (2009), where she observes that the European intellectual tradition's claim to produce universal categories of literary and cultural analysis is being challenged ever more insistently from non-European contexts, and that only a genuinely translational perspective one that takes seriously not just the semantic transfer between languages but the profound asymmetries and power relations embedded in every act of translation and cultural encounter can meet that challenge on its own terms (Bachmann-Medick, 2009). Seen from this angle, the crisis of comparative literature is not simply a disciplinary or methodological problem that better institutional design or a more rigorous theoretical framework might resolve. It is an epistemological problem at a deeper level: the discipline's foundational categories were never as universal as they claimed to be, and no amount of internal reform can adequately address a difficulty of that magnitude.

Bassnett's Rescue: Translation as the Discipline's True Core

Bassnett's response to the crisis she has so carefully diagnosed is both intellectually provocative and more carefully argued than it is sometimes credited for being. She does not propose a programme of incremental reforms within comparative literature, more rigorous attention to language training, a broader geographic scope, a more sophisticated engagement with theory. What she proposes is far more radical: a fundamental restructuring of the relationship between comparative literature and translation studies, one in which the established hierarchy between the two is inverted.

Her argument proceeds in two distinct but closely connected stages. In the first stage, she establishes, with careful historical attention, that translation has been systematically marginalised within comparative literature despite being absolutely central to its actual practice. The comparator working across multiple languages is, in the overwhelming majority of cases, working with translations  because no scholar, however linguistically gifted, can work with equal facility in the twenty or thirty languages that a genuinely global comparative practice would require. And yet the discipline has historically treated translation as a kind of invisible service function, a technical operation that makes texts accessible without itself contributing anything meaningful to their meaning  rather than as a practice and a phenomenon worthy of sustained critical inquiry in its own right (Bassnett, 1993). This marginalisation, Bassnett argues, is not merely an oversight or a gap in the curriculum. It is intellectually indefensible, because it allows comparatists to proceed as if the profound transformations that take place when a text moves from one language and cultural context to another  the losses, the gains, the distortions, the political pressures, the translator's choices and constraints  are simply irrelevant to the meaning of the text they are studying.

The second stage of her argument is considerably more aggressive. As translation studies has, over the preceding decades, established itself as a rigorous discipline with its own theoretical frameworks drawing on polysystems theory, on the descriptive translation studies associated with the Tel Aviv school, on cultural approaches that situate translation within broader fields of social and political power it has, Bassnett argues, effectively superseded comparative literature as the more methodologically sound and theoretically sophisticated framework for the cross-cultural study of literature. Translation studies, in her formulation, "posits the radical proposition that translation is not a marginal activity but has been and continues to be a major shaping force for change in the history of culture" (Bassnett, 1993). If this proposition is accepted  and Bassnett argues that the historical evidence strongly supports it  then comparative literature, which has always depended upon translation while consistently refusing to theorise it, is left occupying the less defensible intellectual position.

What makes this argument genuinely powerful, and what has made it so generative for the subsequent two decades of scholarship in both fields, is its identification of translation as a site, a practice, an event, an encounter  where textual, cultural, political, and historical forces all intersect and become visible. Bachmann-Medick develops this core insight with particular richness and ambition, arguing that a translational turn across the humanities as a whole would transform translation from a specialised technical operation into what she describes as "a new analytical category and a category of action itself"  one with the capacity to illuminate not just the movement of texts between languages but the far broader phenomena of cultural encounter, migration, power asymmetry, and the formation and deformation of identities across borders of every kind (Bachmann-Medick, 2009). This is precisely the kind of expansion of translation's conceptual significance that Bassnett's 1993 argument anticipated and made possible, even if Bachmann-Medick's formulation goes considerably further than Bassnett herself had theorised.

The theoretical landscape of translation studies as a field has been further mapped and complicated by Zheng, Tyulenev, and Marais (2023), whose introduction to a special journal issue on the reconceptualisation of translation traces a dizzying series of successive "turns" within the field  linguistic, cultural, sociological, cognitive, biosemiotic, technological  each of which has extended the concept of translation beyond its conventional and comfortable definition as the interlingual transfer of meaning. Their most memorable and analytically productive observation is that translation studies now looks "less like a valley with a single river that once in a while turns in one direction or another but rather like a delta, a complex network of streams" (Zheng et al., 2023). This image of a delta rather than a single river channel is worth dwelling on, because it captures something important about the productive instability of translation as a concept: its capacity to generate new and unexpected lines of inquiry precisely because it resists settling into a single fixed definition, precisely because it keeps opening out into new territories rather than consolidating around a stable centre.

For comparative literature, this instability is simultaneously a resource and a challenge, and Bassnett's argument does not fully resolve the tension between these two possibilities. It is a resource because it means that a comparatist who takes translation genuinely seriously who treats it as an object of inquiry rather than a neutral medium of access  is always already working at the intersection of language, culture, politics, and history, which is precisely where the most interesting and consequential literary and cultural questions tend to arise. It is a challenge because the expansion of translation into a general theory of meaning-making and cultural encounter risks, as Bachmann-Medick herself honestly acknowledges, "diluting the concept of translation" to a point where it becomes too capacious and too diffuse to serve as a precise or reliable analytical instrument .

The "outward turn" in translation studies, described by Bassnett and Johnston in 2019 and referenced in Rossouw's editorial introduction to the Transfers and Traversals collection (2025), pushes the field's inquiry steadily "beyond conventional interlingual translations to investigate broader notions of translation whether the translation of cultures, artifacts, practices, or processes" (Rossouw, 2025). This ongoing expansion confirms Bassnett's original intuition  developed as early as 1993  that translation was always more than a purely linguistic operation, that it had always carried cultural and political freight that the discipline had been too inclined to ignore. The Transfers and Traversals collection itself, which brings together translation scholars, semioticians, art historians, theatre scholars, and film theorists under a single editorial umbrella, enacts precisely this interdisciplinary vision in practice: translation becomes the "unifying field" around which diverse disciplines gather, discovering in the process that they have each, in their own idiom and from their own disciplinary perspective, been conducting translational inquiry all along without always having the conceptual vocabulary to recognise it as such .

Presner's Rescue: Digital Humanities and the Reinvention of Method

Presner's argument begins from a sense of urgency that is different in character from Bassnett's, though it is no less acute. Writing in 2011, he situates comparative literature within what the historian Robert Darnton famously called "the fourth information age"  the age inaugurated by the invention of the Internet and the subsequent digitisation of cultural production, archives, and communication on an almost inconceivably vast scale, an age whose transformative implications for human knowledge and culture Darnton compared to those of the invention of the printing press or the Renaissance encounter with classical antiquity (Presner, 2011). The challenge this transition poses to comparative literature is not, Presner insists, merely a technological one  a matter of learning new software tools or moving the library catalogue online. It is an epistemological challenge of considerable depth: if the primary objects of literary and cultural study are no longer exclusively or even predominantly print artifacts, and if the tools through which knowledge is produced, circulated, stored, and legitimised have been fundamentally and perhaps irreversibly transformed, then the methodologies, disciplinary structures, and institutional habits of thought that comparative literature inherited from the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries may no longer be sufficient  or even, in some respects, appropriate  for the intellectual work the discipline aspires to do.

Presner defines digital humanities with deliberate and principled expansiveness as "an umbrella term for a wide array of interdisciplinary practices for creating, applying, interpreting, interrogating, and hacking both new and old information technologies" (Presner, 2011). The breadth of this definition is important, and it is worth pausing over. It does not confine digital humanities to the technical or computational dimensions of the encounter between humanistic inquiry and digital tools; it explicitly encompasses the critical and reflective humanist practice of interrogating the cultural, social, and political implications of technological systems of asking not just what digital tools can do, but what they do to knowledge, to power, and to the kinds of questions that scholars find it possible and rewarding to ask. His insistence on the dialectical character of every technology  that every technological development simultaneously opens up new democratic possibilities and creates new mechanisms of exclusionary control, new hierarchies of access and expertise  is particularly important here, because it prevents his argument from sliding into the kind of uncritical technological enthusiasm that sometimes characterises advocacy for digital methods in the humanities. The digital turn is not a straightforward opportunity to be seized; it is a complex and ambivalent challenge that demands of humanists a more sustained, not less sustained, engagement with questions of power, access, and structural inequality.

For comparative literature specifically, and this is where Presner's argument develops its greatest specificity, he identifies three possible and in his view genuinely exciting futures, which he designates Comparative Media Studies, Comparative Data Studies, and Comparative Authorship and Platform Studies (Presner, 2011). These are not mutually exclusive alternatives competing for the discipline's loyalty; he is explicit that they are "additive and synergistic" dimensions of a transformed and enriched disciplinary practice, capable of being pursued simultaneously and in productive combination. Comparative Media Studies would extend the discipline's traditional attention from the printed literary text to all media forms  film, radio, digital platforms, interactive archives interrogating the material specificity of every knowledge-bearing technology and asking how different media and material conditions shape the possibilities of meaning and communication. Comparative Data Studies would bring the computational tools of cultural analytics  text mining, machine reading, statistical analysis, data visualisation, and what Franco Moretti famously called "distant reading"  to bear on the "unfathomably large deluge of data" that the digital age has produced, a volume of cultural material so enormous that it simply cannot be processed by unaided human reading operating in the traditional mode of close textual attention (Presner, 2011). And Comparative Authorship and Platform Studies would direct the discipline's attention to the collaborative, participatory, and platform-specific dimensions of digital knowledge production, asking how authorship, scholarly legitimacy, citation, and intellectual community are being reconstituted  in ways that are sometimes emancipatory and sometimes deeply troubling  in a post-print, platform-dominated environment.

What is perhaps most striking about Presner's argument, when it is read attentively alongside Bassnett's, is the degree to which both scholars are, at a deep level, responding to the same underlying intellectual problem from very different analytical angles. That problem is the problem of scale. Bassnett's comparatist is overwhelmed whether she acknowledges it or not  by the sheer diversity of literary traditions, languages, historical periods, and cultural contexts that comparative literature claims to engage with but can only ever actually reach, in practice, through the necessarily partial and transformative mediation of translation. Presner's comparatist faces a different but structurally analogous difficulty: she is overwhelmed by the sheer volume of digital cultural data  the texts, images, videos, platforms, databases, archives  that the discipline must somehow find ways to incorporate and think seriously about if it is to remain intellectually relevant in the digital age. Both arguments, approached from their different starting points, are ultimately arguments about the limits of individual scholarly reading and about the necessity of developing new methodological frameworks capable of operating productively at scales that traditional humanistic practice was never designed to accommodate.

The Translational and the Digital: Convergences and Tensions

Reading the translational turn and the digital turn together, rather than treating them as sequential and largely unrelated episodes in comparative literature's history, reveals a set of convergences and tensions that are, taken together, productive for thinking carefully about the discipline's possible futures. The most significant and philosophically consequential convergence is their shared insistence on what might be called the materiality of meaning-making. Bassnett's central claim  that translation is not a transparent neutral operation in which meaning passes unchanged from one linguistic vessel to another, but rather a cultural and political act in which meaning is always transformed, sometimes radically, by the conditions under which the transfer takes place  runs in close and illuminating parallel with Presner's insistence that print is not a neutral or transparent medium but one with a long, complex, and consequential history deeply entangled with the formation of academic disciplines, scholarly institutions, epistemological assumptions, and ideological formations (Presner, 2011). Both arguments are, in their different vocabularies and from their different disciplinary positions, making the same fundamental and important point: that the medium matters, that the conditions under which texts are produced, transmitted, circulated, and received are not incidental background noise but are constitutively part of what those texts mean, and that comparative literature has for too long proceeded as though these material and institutional conditions were invisible, neutral, or simply beside the point.

A second and closely related convergence concerns the question of interdisciplinarity. Both arguments call, with varying degrees of urgency and explicitness, for comparative literature to open itself far more genuinely and more rigorously to other fields and other methodological traditions. Bassnett calls for a serious and sustained engagement with translation studies, cultural studies, and postcolonial theory; Presner calls for an equally serious engagement with digital humanities, information studies, computer science, and the quantitative social sciences. And both, crucially, are careful to insist that this opening should not involve the abandonment of humanistic inquiry in favour of the methodological norms of adjacent disciplines, but rather its reinvigoration  its renewal through productive encounter with frameworks and tools that it does not already possess. Presner is quite explicit on this point, insisting that digital humanities is "an outgrowth and expansion of the traditional scope of the Humanities, not a replacement or rejection of humanistic inquiry" (Presner, 2011). Bassnett makes a parallel move, insisting that her claim for translation studies' intellectual primacy over comparative literature does not mean abandoning the comparative enterprise altogether but rather relocating it within a more theoretically rigorous and methodologically honest framework.

The tensions between the two arguments are, however, equally instructive, and they should not be dissolved in a premature synthesis. Bassnett's rescue is fundamentally oriented toward the cultural, historical, and political dimensions of literary transmission: toward questions of power, identity, colonial and postcolonial dynamics, and the profound asymmetries that are built into every act of crossing a linguistic boundary. Presner's rescue is oriented in a quite different direction  toward scale, methodological innovation, and the challenge of maintaining intellectual access to the volume and diversity of cultural production in a globalised, digitised, and institutionally transformed world. These are not incompatible orientations, and a disciplinary imagination sufficiently capacious and flexible might hold both together productively. But they do pull, at certain moments and around certain questions, in genuinely different directions, and a version of comparative literature that attempted to follow both simultaneously to be deeply attentive to the politics of every translational encounter while also engaging with the statistical abstractions of distant reading  would need to develop a degree of methodological sophistication and self-awareness that neither argument, on its own, fully specifies.

Zheng, Tyulenev, and Marais's observation that translation studies, having successfully established its legitimacy as an independent field, now stands at its own crossroads  faced with the challenge of moving beyond its historically near-exclusive focus on interlingual translation without losing analytical precision in the process  resonates here with particular force (Zheng et al., 2023). Their argument that a "complexity approach" might allow the field to hold together both its traditional core focus and its expanding conceptual ambitions echoes precisely the kind of synthetic, integrative thinking that would be required for comparative literature to absorb both the translational and the digital turns without simply dissolving into a loose collection of methodologically incompatible sub-disciplines. Rossouw makes a related and suggestive point when he describes translation as a "probing meta-concept for understanding the various transfers and transversals that arise when disciplines operate side-by-side" (Rossouw, 2025)  a formulation that carries the intriguing implication that translation itself might function as the conceptual framework capacious enough and rigorous enough to hold together the interdisciplinary ambitions of both the translational and the digital projects, providing a shared vocabulary for forms of inquiry that might otherwise struggle to communicate with one another.

The Discipline's Capacity for Self-Renewal

The deeper and more searching question raised by reading Bassnett and Presner together  a question that neither essay quite arrives at on its own  is whether the crises they each describe should be understood as crises in the full and alarming sense of the term: as terminal moments in the life of a discipline, genuine threats to its continued existence as a coherent intellectual formation. Or whether they are, alternatively, the characteristic and perhaps even necessary mode of comparative literature's existence over time, the form that its intellectual vitality takes precisely because it has never been able to settle into a stable and uncontested definition of its own identity.

Bassnett herself, in the conclusion of her introduction, gestures toward this alternative reading, even as she articulates the severity of the crisis in the West. She acknowledges that the discipline "appears less like a discipline and more like a branch of something else" while also noting, in the very same breath, that it is simultaneously "expanding and developing in many parts of the world" (Bassnett, 1993). This simultaneous decay and growth, experienced at the same historical moment in different institutional and cultural locations, is not a straightforward contradiction. It is, rather, the sign of a discipline that has always defined itself not through a fixed set of objects or methods but through its relationships with its intellectual neighbours  borrowing their methods and absorbing their objects of inquiry when its own seemed insufficient, and reconfiguring itself around the encounter in ways that preserve something recognisable even as almost everything else changes.

Presner, writing two decades later with the benefit of a longer historical perspective on the digital transformation, is considerably and perhaps deliberately more optimistic in his orientation. His three futures for comparative literature in the digital age are not presented as desperate emergency measures  last-ditch attempts to stave off irrelevance  but as genuine and substantial intellectual opportunities for a discipline that has, he argues, the potential to "generate, legitimate, and disseminate knowledge in radically new ways, on a scale never before realized" (Presner, 2011). Digital humanities, in his framing, does not replace the comparative enterprise or render it obsolete; it gives comparative literature a set of new and powerful tools with which to pursue commitments that have been central to it since its origins: to read across languages, cultures, media, and historical periods; to trace the connections and discontinuities in the global circulation of texts and ideas; to bring the distinctive resources of humanistic interpretation and ethical attention to bear on the most pressing cultural and social questions of the historical present.

What both arguments ultimately suggest, when their implications are followed carefully to their conclusions, is that comparative literature's identity has never been fixed  and, more importantly, that this persistent unfixedness is not a weakness, a deficiency, or a disciplinary failure to be overcome. It is a structural feature of the discipline, built into its founding assumptions and reproduced through every crisis and every recovery. The difficulty in definitively defining the discipline that Bassnett traces back to the earliest debates of the nineteenth century, and that Presner identifies as simultaneously the condition of comparative literature's crisis and the precondition for its renewal, is the sign of a field that remains genuinely open to the questions that its objects of study keep posing  questions that are always, in some sense, larger and more difficult than the methodological frameworks currently available to address them. The translational turn and the digital turn are not, in this light, external solutions imposed upon a discipline that might otherwise have remained comfortably stable. They are responses to pressures that comparative literature has always generated from within itself responses to the gap between what the discipline aspires to do and what its current tools and frameworks actually allow it to accomplish.

Conclusion

The translational turn, as initially and most forcefully articulated by Bassnett (1993) and subsequently elaborated with considerable theoretical richness by Bachmann-Medick (2009) and by the contributors to the Transfers and Traversals special issue edited by Rossouw (2025), and the digital turn, as envisioned by Presner (2011) and theorised in its implications for translation studies specifically by Zheng, Tyulenev, and Marais (2023), together constitute the most significant episodes of disciplinary self-examination and methodological reconfiguration that comparative literature has undergone in the past three decades. Read carefully together, and placed in dialogue with one another rather than treated as sequential and largely unrelated episodes, these two arguments suggest that comparative literature's most productive future lies not in finally and definitively resolving its identity crisis  in arriving at a settled answer to the question of what it is and does  but in learning to work with that crisis productively and honestly, using the discipline's constitutive openness as a genuine resource for intellectual innovation rather than experiencing it only as a source of institutional anxiety. That means drawing simultaneously on the cultural intelligence and political sensitivity that translation studies brings to every act of linguistic and cultural crossing, and on the methodological ambition and scalability that digital humanities offers to an enterprise that has always aspired to think globally about literature and culture. And it means remaining persistently and self-critically alert to the power asymmetries and unexamined epistemological assumptions that any comparative enterprise, however expansive its scope and however sophisticated its methods, inevitably carries within it.

References: 

Bachmann-Medick, D. (2009). Introduction: The translational turn. Translation Studies, 2(1), 2–16. https://doi.org/10.1080/14781700802496118    

Bassnett, Susan. “What Is Comparative Literature Today?” Comparative Literature: A Critical Introduction, Blackwell, 1993.

Li, Q. Comparative literature and the digital humanities: disciplinary issues and theoretical construction. Humanit Soc Sci Commun 9, 437 (2022). https://doi.org/10.1057/s41599-022-01438-4 

Presner, Todd. “Comparative Literature in the Age of Digital Humanities: On Possible Futures for a Discipline.” A Companion to Comparative Literature, edited by Ali Behdad and Thomas, Wiley-Blackwell, 2011, pp. 193–207. 

Rossouw, M. P. (2025). Transfers and Traversals: Translation, Interdisciplinarity, and the Arts. Critical Arts, 39(1–2), 1–7. https://doi.org/10.1080/02560046.2025.2456326 

Zheng, B., Tyulenev, S., & Marais, K. (2023). Introduction: (re-)conceptualizing translation in translation studies. Translation Studies, 16(2), 167–177. https://doi.org/10.1080/14781700.2023.2207577 

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