By Beth A. McCoy, Gregory J. Palermo, Jeremy A. Jackson, Danielle M. Ward, Timothy Moriarty, Christina Broomfield, Melissa Ann Smith, Matt Huben, Justin M. Turner»»» For Saidiya Hartman, slavery’s archive reveals one thing over and over: bondage so limited agency that “negation” became the “central possibility for action.” Percival Everett’s Zulus anticipates Hartman's conclusion by bringing readers to literal grips with it. Rewriting Jean Toomer's Cane and Frederick Douglass's autobiographies, Zulus traces Alice Achitophel's quest for agency through archives made of mud, music, waste, and more. Forcing her to endure jumbled versions of the gendered anti-black violence that impels Toomer's and Douglass's texts, Alice's quest through archives transforms her into an archive produced through her flesh. Zulus thus suggests that those who would attempt to interpret slavery's archive must confront the captivity of those who remain in and whose remains are the archive: wound unhealable and void unfillable.