We cannot not periodize," argues Fredric Jameson in a maxim several times discussed in this collection. 1 Periodization, Jameson suggests, proves essential to the very business of thinking historically: without borders marking off points of temporal difference, it would be impossible to conceive or express historical change. Yet for those working in the early periods, the terms medieval and Renaissance or early modern have become increasingly vexed. In our opening essay, Margreta de Grazia brilliantly dissects the history of thought that produced the medieval/modern divide, revealing how "it works less as a historical marker than a massive value judgment, determining what matters and what does not." As long as modernity is a sign of the new, it also joins up with the now, its relevance secured in its identification with the fundamental markers of contemporary identity and concern: market economies, national identities, the introspective subject, and historical consciousness itself. 2 Yet, as de Grazia argues, the "modern divide" paradoxically misrepresents the historical consciousness of the very "early modern" period that is drafted to inaugurate it, a period that characterized itself not through its novelty-then used as a term of suspicion-but through its backward-looking identification with the antique past. But however bracketed or qualified as insufficient, misinformed, or merely heuristic, the terms medieval and Renaissance continue to define our fields, their relative place in history, and their relationship with one another. How can we begin to think beyond them? Periodization, as many of our contributors suggest, is a template for dividing up not only time but also place. The tendency to project temporal divisions onto territorial entities continues to this day: as Ania Loomba points out, the "clash of civilizations" being played out currently on the world stage maps a backward and prerational "medievalism" onto the Islamic, while
