The Absent Body and Postcolonial Melancholia (Mark 14:3-9)

29 The Absent Body and Postcolonial Melancholia (Mark 14:3–9) Jin Young Choi Asian American interpretation of the Gospel of Mark Cultural difference as well as sameness forms one’s identity. Difference is not neutral since it is socially constructed and regulated based on normativity. For it is presumed that South Korea is an ethnically homogenous society, being Korean did not provide a distinct category of race or ethnicity that defined me. I had no awareness of color of my skin. Instead, gender was what played a significant role in my identity formation in the patriarchal system. This identity, bolstered by Confucian culture and ideology, dictated my inferiority and limitation as a woman. When I came to the United States I gained a new group identity as an Asian, which generated a sense of otherness. My legal status as a nonresident alien and then a resident alien affirmed that I was not only an other but also a nonexistent being. Only after a decade was I granted new status as a permanent resident in this country. The term “permanent” does not betoken stability. Instead, it denotes that I can live here but do not belong to the American Self yet. Since this American national self is presented as masculine, racial/ethnic others are silenced and feminized. Thus, as an Asian woman I am doubly feminine, as well as invisible. Despite diverse experiences of immigration among people of Asian descent in the United States, they read the Bible based on shared social experiences. Such a reading is not simply contextual but requires utilizing a set of theories that frame the formation of Asian American subjectivity. Reading the Gospel of Mark, I shall explore the psychical and affective dimension of the Asian American experience in the processes of immigration, integration, and racialization. Particularly, I focus on racial melancholia of Asian Americans, informed by psychoanalysis, Asian American studies, and postcolonial criticism. This way of reading resists understanding the Gospel as history, since Asian Americans know how the official history of the United States has erased their presences. Living as a ghostly presence does not mean the absence of subjectivity, but when their histories and identities are effaced they resort to alternative historical knowledge—a type of memory embodied in racial and postcolonial subjects. Melancholia, an interminable grief, of Asian Americans leads us to attend to lost histories and repressed BLO_29_TCHA_C029_docbook_indd.indd 351 12-11-2018 13:42:42 352 T&T Clark Handbook to Asian American Biblical Hermeneutics identities. Postcolonial melancholia functions as a lens through which I read the Gospel as a social discourse that embodies memories of oppressed and forgotten people in the Roman Empire. In turn, my reading will illuminate melancholia as an Asian American social and psychical experience that constitutes their postcolonial subjectivity. Reading Mark, remembering the absent The body to be buried After Jesus’s death and resurrection, the early Christians responded to the reality of Jesus’s absence. Especially when Jerusalem was ruined and the temple was destroyed by the Romans in 70 C.E., certain Christians such as Mark had to reflect on this socially traumatic event and unimaginable loss. Thus, Mark can be read as creating “a space for mourning and contemplating loss” (Kotrosits and Taussig 2013, 27). While Mark affirms the early Christian belief that Jesus is the Son of God, who was raised from the dead, he believes that Jesus will not appear until he comes again. The unspoken feeling of loss and absence is incorporated in the proclamation of the gospel. That is how “the beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God” ends—with the story of Jesus’s absence in the empty tomb. This good news does not allow Mark to wail, but instead leads him to swallow anguish and grief. Such emotion sublimely insinuates itself into the story of the anointing of Jesus by an anonymous woman in Mark 14.1 Jesus purposefully entered Jerusalem, anticipating that he would “be delivered” (paradidosthai) to the religious and political authorities and would be killed and rise (14:1; cf. 8:31; 9:30–31; 10:32–34). Jesus’s anointing happens “two days before the Passover and the festival of Unleavened Bread” and is enclosed by Judas’s betrayal (paradoi, 14:10–11). On the first day of Unleavened Bread when the Passover (lamb) is sacrificed, his disciples ask him where he wants to eat the Passover so that they would prepare for the meal. Here the reader sees two table-fellowship scenes followed by the stories of two male disciples’ betrayals. 14:1–2 Two days before the Passover 14:3–9 At the table in the house of Simon in Bethany 14:10–11 Judas’s betrayal planned 14:12–16 On the first day of the Passover 14:17–25 Eating the Passover 14:26–31 Peter’s denial foretold While these passages strongly hint at Jesus’s passion and death, we shall see that what is highlighted in both meal scenes is the body of Jesus. Just as Jesus ate (literally, “reclined”) with tax collectors and sinners in Levi’s house (2:15), he eats in the house of 1 Employing a feminist critical reconstruction of early Christian history as women’s history, Elisabeth Schüssler Fiorenza constructs the theoretical frame of In Memory of Her (Mark 14:9). This reconstructive work is to “articulate an alternative model for ‘imaging’ the history of early Christian beginnings” (Schüssler Fiorenza 1994, xxviii). Although I do not intend to elaborate a “reconstructive model” of women’s struggle, I find that her “symptomatic” reading, which traces textual tension and conflicting ethos and memories, resonates with my own reading of Mark’s story. BLO_29_TCHA_C029_docbook_indd.indd 352 12-11-2018 13:42:44 The Absent Body and Postcolonial Melancholia (Mark 14:3–9) 353 Simon the leper. The inclusivity of this table is further highlighted by the interruption of a nameless woman who brings with her an alabaster jar of nard, a very expensive ointment. Eating is interrupted by the woman’s act of breaking open the jar and pouring the ointment on Jesus’s head. The immediate response from people, most probably some male disciples, was indignation at her act as they focus on the “ointment”: “Why was this ointment wasted in this way? For this ointment could have been sold for more than three hundred denarii, and (the money) given to the poor” (14:4–5). Looking back at the story in Mark 12, it turns out that the disciples are not really concerned with the poor (ptōchoi). When the “poor” (ptōche) widow offered two small copper coins in the temple, they did not appear to tell anything about the poor woman, but instead one of them admired the large stones and buildings of the temple after the incident (12:42–43; 13:1). They failed to see that the widow’s action, and Jesus’s reaction exposed the abusive system of the temple—“an institution which generated poverty in Israel” (Moore 2006, 42, quoted from Sugirtharajah 2002, 121). Now some of them express their concern with the poor, mentioning the value of ointment. Then, they turn to the woman and scold her. For Jesus, however, their chiding does nothing but cause toils or pains (kopous) to her who has done a good work (ergon ērgasato) for him. While highlighting the woman’s labor, Jesus goes on to say, “You will always have the poor with you and you can do good to them whenever you wish” (14:7). It was Jesus who required his follower to take care of the poor, but what he wants to emphasize is that the disciples will lose him.2 The woman understood this, and her action of anointing is viewed as a labor for his burial. His body is the body to be buried. Eating the body and mourning Jesus speaks of his body in relation to his death once again. He is supposed to eat the Passover (lamb) with the twelve disciples, and the motif of betrayal rises to the surface this time (14:12, 14). Jesus’s words about a disciple’s betrayal make them grieve (lypeisthai). Only one of them will betray him, but they as a group are afflicted and ask one after another, “Surely, not I?” (v. 19). Now what is eaten is not the Passover lamb but bread, that is, his body: “Jesus takes a loaf of bread, and after blessing it he broke it, gave it to them, and said, ‘Take (eat); this is my body’” (v. 22).3 They will not have Jesus with them but he will be present only in that his body is consumed by his disciples (Choi 2015, 98–99). When Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome bring spices to anoint the dead body of Jesus, they find the tomb is empty and hear from a young man that the crucified Jesus has been raised. Yet what is highlighted is Jesus’s absence: “He is not here. Look, there is the place they laid him” (16:6). Despite the announcement that 2 3 While the rich man’s response to Jesus’s instruction to sell his possession and give the money to the poor was to go away grieving (lypoumenos, 10:21), the men in our story are angry because the money could have been given to the poor. In contrast to these men’s emotional responses—either grief or grievance, women in Mark are portrayed as the ones who quietly provide their resources for others (cf. 1:31; 15:41). Some manuscripts include the verb “eat” (phagete). BLO_29_TCHA_C029_docbook_indd.indd 353 12-11-2018 13:42:44 354 T&T Clark Handbook to Asian American Biblical Hermeneutics they will see him with the disciples in Galilee, they flee from the tomb with terror and fear. What about Peter? After his denial of Jesus, Peter broke down and wept (eklaien, 14:72). Then, he does not appear until the end of the Gospel. The Gospel closes not only with Jesus’s absence but also with the disciples’ agitation and mourning (16:8). Jesus’s broken and absent body on the cross and at the tomb, which caused trauma to the followers, continues to haunt them. Whereas the memories of their loss and mourning survive in the women’s silence and fear and Peter’s unceasing grief, later readers who were dissatisfied with the incomplete ending of the Gospel added the stories of Jesus’s apparition. When Mary Magdalene (to whom Jesus appeared first) goes to the disciples, they, including Peter, are still mourning and weeping (klaiousin, 16:10). The disciples’ unceasing grief has to be replaced with confidence and joy as they encounter and proclaim the resurrection of Jesus (Mark 16:14–20; Matt. 28:8; Luke 24:52). Those male and female disciples finally see the risen Christ and are restored, but the woman who anointed Jesus ultimately disappears. The unnamed woman did what she could do.4 Yet after all, Jesus does not remain buried. Where then is Jesus? Just in the way Jesus is present as consumed by the disciples, is he buried within her? In Luke’s parallel story, the woman weeps (klaiousa) because her many sins are forgiven and thus she loves him more than others (7:36–50). But for the woman in Mark’s story, her feeling of loss cannot be described; she cannot even weep; and no motivation is represented. She buried the loved one within her. If Jesus is the one who is present only in the form of absence in Mark, the woman who buried him in herself is also a ghostly figure. She disappears without a name or voice. Even when history reclaims Jesus as the risen Lord and restores his disciples, she embodies Jesus’s haunting presence. Burying the body and remembering When the woman anointed Jesus, he said, “Wherever the good news is preached in the whole world (cosmos), what she has done will be told in remembrance of her” (14:9). In the expanded Gospel ending, Mary Magdalene breaks silence and preaches to the mourning male disciples. According to the risen Christ’s command, they preach the good news to the whole world (cosmos, 16:15, 20). When the risen Lord now works with them, the woman is not remembered. Everyone else’s memory is recovered, but this woman falls into obscurity. History is reluctant to remember her.5 What did Jesus mean by “in remembrance of her”? While the noun form “remembrance” or “memory” (mnēmosynon) is used only in this passage in Mark, there is a place in which its verb form (mnēmoneuō) appears. When the disciples misunderstood Jesus’s saying about the yeasts of the Pharisees and Herod based on the fact that they have no bread in the boat, Jesus asked the disciples, 4 5 As if the woman foreknew what would happen in his burial, she labored anointing his body. Joseph of Arimathea would ask Pilate for the dead body of Jesus and wrap it in a cloth to place in the tomb, yet without anointing (15:46). Later, the women bringing spices to anoint his body would not find the body in the tomb. Mark not only depoliticizes her “prophetic sign-action,” a politically dangerous recognition of Jesus’s messiahship, but also suppresses the memory of her as a “paradigm for the true disciple” (Schüssler Fiorenza 1994, xliv). BLO_29_TCHA_C029_docbook_indd.indd 354 12-11-2018 13:42:44 The Absent Body and Postcolonial Melancholia (Mark 14:3–9) 355 “Do you not remember?” (8:18). His question could point to their failure to remember what happened just shortly before. While he appears to remind the disciples of the previous two feedings of the multitude, he is not referring to the magnitude of the miracles because it is exactly what he criticizes the Pharisees about: they asked for a sign from heaven (8:11). Instead, they should remember his presence as bread in their journey. The narrator witnesses that “they had only one loaf with them in the boat,” but they discuss that they do not have bread (8:14). Remember. He broke the five loaves for the five thousand. He would break bread once more for the disciples in the Passover meal, saying, “Take, eat. This is my body.” What is remembered is not the name or deeds of a hero. The disciples are asked to evoke the broken body of Jesus, his presence in absence.6 The image of “tomb” (mnēmeion) in Mark suggests something similar to this type of remembrance. The word denotes not only tomb but also any visible object such as a monument, which summons the memory of a person or a thing. History is made by this kind of writing—engraving memories on certain objects. In Mark this word is used to indicate mostly Jesus’s tomb, but what his tomb recalls is not his glory but his absence. It is the tomb that is empty. Jesus proleptically has said, “You will not always have me.” In Mark, remembering is not to inscribe the hero’s name or his achievements in his grave’s monument to immortalize his life. Rather, it is burying the beloved one within yourself or eating his body. Only in this way is Jesus present and remembered. Illustrating the Passover meal, Luke wants to inscribe the memory of Jesus by adding the words: “This is my body which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me” (22:19; cf. 1 Cor. 11:24–25). Yet, for Mark’s Jesus, who is to be remembered is not himself, but the woman: “In remembrance of her.” How then is the unnamed woman remembered? What she does is an act of remembering his body that is broken in anticipation of his burial. Anointing the body of Jesus who is going to be killed by the Roman authorities is inevitably accompanied by the surge of emotion. However, unlike those who wept and wailed when the twelve-year-old girl died (5:38–39), the woman does not weep when losing the loved one. Then, she disappears both in the narrative world and in history. Burying Jesus within herself, she is remembered only as a haunting presence, just like Jesus. Theorizing Asian American experience of melancholia In his famous article, “Mourning and Melancholia,” Sigmund Freud distinguished two kinds of grief. While mourning is a normal response to the loss of a loved object, which will be ultimately replaced with another object, the melancholic is endless mourning caused by its inability to overcome the loss (Freud 1966). Since that object cannot be substituted, “the melancholic eats the lost object—feeds on it” knowing that the lost one will never return (Cheng 2001, 8). Through this process of introjection what is left is the ego itself in which nonetheless the lost object is present within her as the other—a ghostly presence. Freud diagnoses this symptom of having the absent other 6 For this interpretation, see Choi 2015, 68–70, 97–99. BLO_29_TCHA_C029_docbook_indd.indd 355 12-11-2018 13:42:44 356 T&T Clark Handbook to Asian American Biblical Hermeneutics inside herself as pathological because she does not know what she lost but continues to live with this indescribable sense of loss. Melancholia has been appropriated to describe Asian American psychical experience in the process of immigration, assimilation, and racialization. According to Anne Anlin Cheng, the national identity of the United States is related to national melancholia, as it rejects racial others through racialization but at the same time retains them within it. Asian Americans as the other-within are indispensible to fortify the American self. Model minority myth has reinforced Asian Americans’ collective melancholia by obliterating the history of institutionalized exclusions of Asian Americans (Eng and Han 2010, 59).7 Since not all Asian Americans succeed educationally and economically, those who fail to cope with this national ideological apparatus find their identity nowhere. Thus, Asian Americans are not only a melancholic object of America but also a melancholic subject internalizing rejection and denigrating the self. Asian Americans as the racialized subject experience interminable grief related to deferred and never-complete assimilation or the loss of white ideals (Eng and Han 2010, 57). In this way, they are “both the one lost and the one losing” (Cheng 2001, 17). While I find racial grief as a theoretical paradigm useful to explore the social and subjective formation of Asian Americans, approaching racial melancholia only in terms of assimilation into the dominant culture does not adequately explain complex experiences of Asian Americans. Racial injury must have psychical impact upon Asian Americans and cause racial grief, but for diverse groups and individuals among Asian Americans such as diaspora, migrants, refugees, exiles, and earlier generation immigrants, their identities are not only bound to integration into the United States. Even those who identify themselves as “Asian American” tend to relate to two (or more) worlds of origin and destination. For example, transnationalism is distinct for Asian Americans compared to other racial and ethnic minority communities. Transnationalism is a response to racial exclusion and represents Asian American political behaviors (Collet and Lien 2009, 5). Wonhee Anne Joh applies the concept of jeong, a particular type of relationalism that simultaneously embraces love and justice in Korean culture, as a response to the dominant culture’s racial abjection that incites a cycle of violence (Joh 2007). She tells her own experience of racial abjection, a story of how she and her son were attacked by a mob on the way to their usual breakfast on the first Saturday after September 11, 2001. Neither the crowd around them nor the police care for them. Her son’s question haunted her: Bewildered at a not-yet-named injury and aching with an innocence on the brink of vanishing, he asked, ‘Why didn’t the police help us?’ For my son this event marked the loss of his confidence in the American practice of democracy and was the moment when he began to reflect on his place and relationship to the U.S. nation-state. It was remarkable for me to witness his growing attachment to a Korea that he knew so little about. (Joh 2007, 146) 7 Regarding the exclusion of Asian immigration, see Lowe 1996, 7. BLO_29_TCHA_C029_docbook_indd.indd 356 12-11-2018 13:42:44 The Absent Body and Postcolonial Melancholia (Mark 14:3–9) 357 As we see, what is lost for this US-born son is not unattainable whiteness but his reliance on his country, its exceptionalism, and its claims of liberty and inclusion. Despite their “long distance nationalism” or political loyalties, however, Asian Americans often find that they belong to neither America (assimilation) nor the country of origin (nativism) (Collet and Lien 2009, 14; Lowe 1996, 75). Moreover, as “historical traumas of loss are passed down from one generation to another unconsciously,” the painful memories of Japanese colonization, Korean War, and dictatorships that Joh inherited from her immigrant parents might have been passed to her son (Eng and Han 2010, 65). There is continuity between the US expansionist imperialism in Asia and racialization and exclusion of Asian descendants in the United States. Additionally, Asian American women suffer from not only imperialism and racism but also patriarchy.8 For diverse communities and generations of Asian Americans with fluctuating identities, what is lost is not clear but what is clear is that they grieve the multiple losses—nations, communities, histories, cultures, and identities, as well as belonging and yearning. Thus, this is not only racial melancholia but also postcolonial melancholia.9 It is not my intention to explore exactly what is lost in Asian Americans, however. My primary point is the political dimension of racial, gendered, postcolonial melancholia. Postcolonial melancholia is not just a pathological symptom or passive status, but it is “a dynamic process with both coercive and transformative potentials for political imagination” (Cheng 2001, xi). The experience of losses of loved objects and the melancholic preservation of the objects as part of the ego are communal. Racial and postcolonial melancholia, as a collective, persistent feeling of loss, refuses to surrender. Sara Ahmed argues that race politics in the United Kingdom requires a national subject to remember “the history of empire as a history of happiness” and be happy (2010, 130). On the other side of this “happiness duty” is an injunction to ignore or forget the violence of colonial rule and racism (131). It applies to Asian America. If you dare to speak about the colonial past and/or present racism, you become an affect alien. Why are you unhappy? It is a moral task “to get over it” (158). In recognizing “the same objects as being loved and lost,” however, the melancholic as shared grief has political power (141). It hurtfully reminds the society of injustice and injury committed by colonialism and racism. Rereading Mark with ghostly presences Rereading the Gospel invites the reader to participate in remembering the haunting presence.10 The act of remembering is a communal ritual of mourning, as well as 8 9 10 As it is not only women but also some men, especially Asian men, who endure patriarchy, I am going to use “wo/men” in this chapter. For a discussion of feminization of Asian America, see Choi 2015, 26–27, 125–27. Gilroy describes postcolonial melancholia as Britain’s inability to mourn its loss of empire (Gilroy 2005). However, as racial and ethnic minorities are a melancholic object of the nation and a melancholic subject simultaneously, I argue that postcolonial melancholia is also applied not only to the nation but also to postcolonial subjects. Liew applies the concept of racial melancholia in “Reading Paul’s Psycho-Political Operatives in 1 Corinthians” (2008, 98–114). BLO_29_TCHA_C029_docbook_indd.indd 357 12-11-2018 13:42:44 358 T&T Clark Handbook to Asian American Biblical Hermeneutics an alternative to writing official history. This rereading particularly attends to Asian American women who have suffered multiple losses from colonialism, racialization, and patriarchy. Jesus’s body was killed by political powers and buried in the tomb. Sharing the early Christian witnesses to his resurrection, however, Mark could not commemorate the risen Christ but instead still mourned the loss and absence of Jesus. Through eating Jesus’s body, his absent presence haunted them in the midst of grieving another loss, the loss of their identity that the destroyed temple signified. According to Freud, there is no clear boundary between the object and the self due to the introjection of the lost object, and thus, there is no need for the return of the object. Living Jesus’s present absence, Mark did not feel the urgent need of Jesus’s apparition or parousia.11 While the trauma of postwar evoked the absence of Jesus, there was anticolonial nationalist incitement of restoration of people, especially the poor people, on the remains of destruction. It is anticolonial masculinist grievance spoken loudly in Simon’s house at Bethany. It is not the first time that the male disciples are indignant (aganaktein). As they expected that Jesus would take power soon, John and James asked him for higher positions. Then, the other disciples were upset (aganaktein). Jesus corrected their mimicking of the imperial practice of ruling others (10:41–44). The story of Jesus’s anointing reminds the reader of a postcolonial situation in which the nationalist resists colonial power but also replicates colonialist hegemony by controlling native women.12 Ania Loomba argues, Even though the reform of women’s position seems to be a major concern within nationalist (and colonialist) discourses, and even though female power, energy and sexuality haunt these discourses, women themselves in any real sense, “disappear” from these discussions about them. From colonial as well as nationalist records, we learn little about how they felt or responded, and until recently, there was little attempt to locate them as subjects within the colonial struggle. (2005, 185) We know little about how the anointing woman feels. Asian American wo/men have been excluded in the sanctioned history of the nation building but at the same time they became the other inside of the national self. Anticolonial masculinist grievance may be expressed in cultural and political 11 12 Discussing Mark and the apocalyptic, Moore observes that Mark “predicts not the destruction of Rome, but rather an act of destruction by Rome” (2006, 34). It seems to me therefore that while Mark represents politics of apocalyptic impulse on one hand, the Christians in Mark’s time still suffer traumas of war and violence to the extent that they cannot imagine retaliation against the enemy which would occur in Jesus’s return on the other hand. Liew rightly captures the portrayal of women in Mark limited to playing supportive roles in anti-imperial movements. While he argues that Jesus is not really different from the local elites’ exploitation of the poor widow in that he appears to “affirm another woman’s extravagant gesture to support his cause” (2008, 229), I do not regard that this cause is confined to the “manly struggle against colonialism.” Just like the anonymous woman, Jesus is a “ghostly” presence that will continue to haunt Mark’s readers. BLO_29_TCHA_C029_docbook_indd.indd 358 12-11-2018 13:42:44 The Absent Body and Postcolonial Melancholia (Mark 14:3–9) 359 terms, but it is often done at the expense of Asian American women. Additionally, Western feminist discourse further silences them by speaking for these racialized women. Asian Americans, particularly women, contributed to founding and sustaining the nation like other citizens, but they are forgotten and invisible. While racial and gendered injury can cause Asian American wo/men’s melancholia, such grief is not just for the loss of an unobtainable white status based on systemic exclusion but is unconscious recognition of the broken nation and the displaced self. As transforming such grief into social grievance may be a way of claiming Asian American wo/men’s subjectivity, a feminist reading can assert that the woman and her good service should be remembered.13 She is a model of discipleship, that is, a model minority. Yet, the woman resists being a model minority. For mourners such as Peter and the women disciples, the world becomes poor and empty (Freud 1966, 246). Mourning can happen in the empty tomb, which will turn into the place of commemorating the risen one. In melancholia, however, the ego itself is impoverished, and therefore the woman cannot even appear in the empty tomb. Jesus is not in the tomb that would have become the place of his lasting memorial. Rather, he is buried within the woman. In this way he is present with the haunting presence of the woman. Unfinished grieving I conclude with grieving and remembering. My reading of the anointing woman evokes the unrepresentable feeling of colonized subjects who have lost their loved ones or objects in empires both ancient and present. Cheng explains how the American self was built on “the structure of loss, grief, and entombment” (Cheng 2001, 13, quoted from Stern 1997, 2). American nationality was established on the tomb of racialized others who are invisible. As such, Christianity was founded not only on the good news of Jesus’s death and resurrection but also on losses and grief, as well as the empty tomb of Jesus and the entombment of oppressed people like the unnamed woman. This reading with the ghostly presences leads us to grieve for what and who are effaced—not limited to Asian Americans—in American history of immigration and exclusion as well as imperialism and patriarchy. As the anointing woman in Mark embodies trauma of war and violence by imperialism, nationalism, and patriarchy, postcolonial melancholia of Asian Americans can expose and resist the imperialist and racist script of forgetfulness. As far as injustice of histories is persistent, and as far as “the history of disarticulated grief is still speaking through the living,” we will not let them go (Cheng 2001, 63; Ahmed 2010, 159). Those ghostly presences live within us. 13 However, the transformation “from being subjected to grief to being a subject speaking grievance” does not always occur as racial melancholia cannot be materialized or compensated (Cheng 2001, x, 7). BLO_29_TCHA_C029_docbook_indd.indd 359 12-11-2018 13:42:44 360 T&T Clark Handbook to Asian American Biblical Hermeneutics Works cited Ahmed, Sara. The Promise of Happiness. Durham, NC: Duke University Press Books, 2010. Cheng, Anne Anlin. The Melancholy of Race: Psychoanalysis, Assimilation, and Hidden Grief. New York: Oxford University Press, 2001. Choi, Jin Young. Postcolonial Discipleship of Embodiment: An Asian and Asian American Feminist Reading of the Gospel of Mark. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2015. Collet, Christian, and Pei-te Lien. The Transnational Politics of Asian Americans. Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 2009. Eng, David L., and Shinhee Han. “A Dialogue on Racial Melancholia.” Pages 55–79 in Asian American Studies Now. Edited by Jean Yu-Wen Shen Wu and Thomas C. Chen. New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 2010. Freud, Sigmund. “Mourning and Melancholia.” Pages 243–58 in The Standard Edition of the Complete Psychological Works of Sigmund Freud, Volume XIV (1914–1916): On the History of the Psycho-Analytic Movement, Papers on Metapsychology and Other Works. Translated by James Strachey. London: Hogarth Press, 1966. Gilroy, Paul. Postcolonial Melancholia. New York: Columbia University Press, 2005. Joh, Wonhee Anne. “Violence and Asian American Experience.” Pages 145–62 in Off the Menu: Asian and Asian North American Women’s Religion and Theology. Edited by Rita Nakashima Brock, Jung Ha Kim, Kwok Pui-lan, and Seung Ai Yang. Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2007. Kotrosits, Maia, and Hal Taussig. Re-reading the Gospel of Mark Amidst Loss and Trauma. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2013. Liew, Tat-siong Benny. What is Asian American Biblical Hermeneutics? Reading the New Testament. Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press, 2008. Loomba, Ania. Colonialism/Postcolonialism. Second edition. London: Routledge, 2005. Lowe, Lisa. Immigrant Acts: On Asian American Cultural Politics. Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1996. Moore, Stephen D. Empire and Apocalypse: Postcolonialism and the New Testament. Sheffield: Sheffield Phoenix Press, 2006. Schüssler Fiorenza, Elisabeth. In Memory of Her: A Feminist Theological Reconstruction of Christian Origins. New York: Crossroad, 1994. Stern, Julia A. The Plight of Feeling: Sympathy and Dissent in the Early American Novel. Chicago: University Of Chicago Press, 1997. Sugirtharajah, R. S. Postcolonial Criticism and Biblical Interpretation. New York: Oxford University Press, 2002. BLO_29_TCHA_C029_docbook_indd.indd 360 12-11-2018 13:42:44