The criteria for assessing Strummer’s influence are its depth and breadth across space and time. In other words, where, when and for how long and in what manner did he influence people? Was his influence, for example, deep-seated and long-lasting or was it short and superficial whether, for instance, in Britain or the US and in what time period did this occur? And in what ways did Strummer change people’s attitudes and behaviours? These questions concern the qualitative and quantitative aspects without for the moment examining the ‘why’ and ‘how’ questions, which are better suited to be answered through analysis of the testimonies from followers. Consequently, this chapter looks at the evidence available from secondary sources to map the extent and nature of Strummer’s influence. First, it looks at what Strummer said about his own influence in general and specific terms. Then it considers what others said about his influence on themselves and others, before moving on to look at perceptions of heroism and prophecy. Finally, the small handful of studies of Strummer/Clash followers are assessed. Given this study’s socialist realist framework, each ‘where’, ‘when’ and ‘how’ question also pertains to advancing the cause of socialism.
This chapter examines what Strummer said about socialism, Marxism and revolution, both generally and in terms of the working class, unions, social movements and political parties. The significant changes in Strummer’s political perspective, where his radicalism dimmed and he moved towards humanism, are explored in Chapter 8. This chapter begins by examining what Strummer said about himself and his formative political influences. It concludes he was not a Marxist, and though his politics were complex in terms of their means and ends, he is best characterised as a social democrat in terms of ends.
There are various challenges that studying Strummer presents. The most obvious is to avoid conflating The Clash with Strummer and, to a lesser extent, Strummer with The Clash. The latter, which is less problematic, sees the impact of The Clash, as a band with members other than Strummer, attributed to Strummer. The former, which is the more problematic, sees Strummer’s impact, especially through his lyrics, attributed to The Clash. But given the dominant division of labour between Joe Strummer and Mick Jones, these conflations are less problematic than they may first seem, because Strummer was the principal lyricist, spokesperson, singer and performance frontperson. However, other challenges come from Strummer himself in terms of his complexity, contradictions and hyperbole. This chapter also lays out the primary and secondary data-gathering methods used.
Remembering the Troubles in Hidden Symptoms and One by One in the Darkness
This chapter demonstrates how two of Deirdre Madden's novels, Hidden Symptoms and One by One in the Darkness, rewrite our understanding of how best to commemorate the victims of the Troubles. Both novels create commemorative practices focused on domestic items and the visceral reality of human bodies, rejecting overarching narratives of sacrifice, martyrdom, or mythic heroism. By positioning Madden's work in conversation with Bernard MacLaverty’s Cal, this chapter reveals the ways in which Madden's works imagine a third option for remembering the victims of the Troubles: rather than characters who are consigned to memory as traitors or martyrs, Madden crafts characters who escape being conscripted into an ongoing sectarian narrative. She rewrites what it means to remember Northern Ireland’s sectarian violence and creates new stories that challenge dominant ideologies; she counteracts previous misrepresentations of the North by grounding her explorations of traumatic experience in philosophies of ethics and remembrance. Her novels offer new feminine forms of remembrance that insert the experiences of women and the lived lives of victims into Ireland’s commemorative practices.
"Prior to recent redevelopment projects, Wilhelmsburg, a historically working-class and immigrant neighbourhood to the south of city centre in Hamburg, Germany, had long been treated as the city’s backyard dump, and marginalised as not quite part of the city proper. The dominant urban planning narrative traces the island’s stigmatisation back to an unfortunate but supposedly natural process of devaluation, in which the island’s low-lying geographical position drove a downward spiral in status.In contrast to this narrative, I theorise Wilhelmsburg from the South, in two senses: after Ananya Roy, who argues for pushing the limits of Eurocentric urban theory to identify the roles of racialisation in urban political economy, and from the perspective of racialised residents speaking northwards towards the centre of planning in Hamburg. Drawing on ethnographic interviews and archival research, I demonstrate that racialisation and racial capitalism have been crucial factors in the development of Hamburg-Wilhelmsburg for well over a century. By theorising Wilhelmsburg from the South, I enter into conversation with the European city literature that appears unable to grapple with the production of racialised inequality as part of the city’s normal functioning. I draw from race-critical European urban scholarship to highlight the key role of racialisation and of supposedly ‘non-European’ spaces in the stabilisation of Germanness and Europeanness. This challenges the utility of the European city typology as it stands, as well as what Roy has called the ‘amnesia’ of spatial disciplines like planning regarding their role in the production of racialised landscapes of inequality."
Grounded in rich oral history testimonies, this chapter explores and compares experiences of home and family. Some types of LGBT households were emblematic or typical of a particular city or of a period of time. The queer bedsit, in the city centre and near LGBT venues was a type of home commonly experienced in Brighton between the 1960s and the 1990s. In the 1970s and 1980s, collective households, in squats or housing co-ops, were a radical form of queer home-making in the urban centres of Leeds, Manchester and Brighton. The ease of making home comfortably as a same-sex couple or lesbian or gay family with children, and of being accepted by neighbours, varied across cities and suburbs but gradually became easier from the 1990s as equality legislation helped to create more liberal attitudes. Particular suburbs in Manchester and Leeds became known as gay-friendly districts to live in, though gentrification has altered opportunities to buy or rent there over time, depending on income. Although access to council (public) housing has historically been restricted to heterosexual families, LGBT people have sought access to social housing across all four cities, most successfully in Manchester since the 1980s. The boundaries of private and public have been queered as LGBT people have ‘found home’ in places on the commercial gay scene and in political groups and have also created their own queer networks and cultures by socializing in the privacy of their own homes.
This chapter exposes the roles various urban infrastructures play in reproducing racialised identities and patterns of segregation in postcolonial European cities. It contributes to new ways of knowing European cities by highlighting how colonial histories and anti-migrant politics contribute to shaping everyday urban life. Based on research into forced migrants’ experiences of settling in Sheffield, a city located in the UK’s midlands, the chapter explores three types of infrastructure to highlight the ongoing salience of colonialism and racism in the UK. Firstly, by scrutinising the politics of urban space in Sheffield, the chapter illustrates how the built urban environment serves as an infrastructure of memorialisation that heralds white British histories, whilst occluding and denying the presence and contributions of other racialised groups in the city. Secondly, adopting a topological approach, the chapter shows how the spatial configuration of cities in the UK maintains patterns of segregation along racial and national lines. Finally, the chapter exposes the cumulative effects that the British government’s hostile approach towards migration has on experiences of and in urban space. To counter the predominantly exclusionary narrative and governance regime at work in the UK, the chapter also describes some of the spaces and practices in Sheffield that challenge the hostile approach to managing migration. These spaces and practices provide forced migrants with opportunities to be included in everyday urban life, and create pathways for creating a reimagined sense of European urbanity and identity.
Ethics and aesthetics in Deirdre Madden’s Hidden Symptoms, One by One in the Darkness, and Molly Fox’s Birthday
This chapter focuses on Deirdre Madden’s three novels directly addressing the Troubles in Northern Ireland – Hidden Symptoms (1986), One by One in the Darkness (1996), and Molly Fox’s Birthday (2008). To consider the role that they claim for themselves in the society out of which they are written, it examines how the two questions framing Madden’s first fiction, Hidden Symptoms – ‘what can we do?’ and ‘what does art do?’ in the face of human-inflicted violence – are played out in each of the novels. This entails an ethical appreciation of Madden’s thematic and aesthetic options. Thematically, the two earlier novels, written during the Troubles, feature Catholic families marked by the individual diversity of their members, and invite readers to engage with the predicaments of Catholic victims of sectarian violence, thus countering the invisibility of lives misrepresented and unacknowledged by political, legal, and journalistic discourses; in turn, Molly Fox’s Birthday, a novel written after the Good Friday Agreement, moves beyond Northern Ireland and its Catholic community to address the ethical challenge of acknowledging kinship with perpetrators of sectarian violence. Aesthetically, Madden’s use of fiction and focalisation affords readers insight into others’ subjectivity, while featuring characters aware of the power, as well as the limits, of imagination. Madden’s novels thus raise the question of whether and how aesthetic experience expands one’s intersubjective insight, prompts awareness of the limits of every subjective position, and may therefore perform a role in processes of reparative remembering.
This chapter considers the way the borderscape of Kent changed with the construction of the Channel Tunnel and associated infrastructures of connection, including motorway improvements and the High Speed One rail link. Starting at the Channel Tunnel terminal at Cheriton (Folkestone), the chapter moves along the M20/High Speed One corridor noting how initial local opposition to the construction works demonstrated ambivalence to the European project of spatial integration. The latter sections of the chapter focus on the integration of Ashford within the European space of flows. Here, the chapter contrasts the promise of speed and mobility in the EU era with the regular queues of freight lorries on local roads, and the construction of lorry parks in 2020 designed to cope with the anticipated volume of customs checks associated with the post-Brexit era. The chapter concludes by suggesting that local ambivalence about the European project of integration is registered in the figure of the white horse on the hillside above Folkestone, a statement of local and national distinctiveness constructed at the millennium that echoes more ancient traditions of scouring the landscape.
Chapter 5 explores the cultural politics of the ageing star, analysing why Connery managed that notoriously difficult transition so successfully. Central to his success, the chapter argues, was his development of a coherent new persona, the father-mentor, who embodies wisdom, knowledge, understanding and above all a centred integrity that he imparts to a younger man who becomes his surrogate son. This construction began fortuitously in Highlander (1986) but gained industry traction as the ‘Connery role’ after he won an Oscar as Best Supporting Actor in The Untouchables (1987), whose success also restored him to A-list stardom. The chapter analyses these films in detail along with The Name of the Rose (1986) – his astonishing performance as a mediaeval monk that was a huge success in Europe, demonstrating Connery’s transnational appeal in a role that would have severely challenged an American actor. Close attention is also given to Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (1989), in which Connery plays a comic version, and The Hunt for Red October (1990), in which his father-mentor is a magisterial figure. The chapter argues that the father-mentor was a much more capacious construction than Bond, one that offered a variety of acting challenges. The persona enabled Connery to project many of his own values in these roles, which are notable for often being politically progressive, his character at odds with a corrupt and venal society. They are also mythic and thus could accommodate the scale of Connery’s stardom.