The contemporary artist Marcus Coates is well known for a series of performances in which he imitates non-human animals. The combination of humour and a makeshift aesthetic have become somewhat of a trademark in these so-called ‘becoming animal’ works, as well as in socially engaged performances where the artist uses these ‘becoming’ skills to assume the role of the shaman. Although the philosophers Gilles Deleuze and Félix Guattari positioned imitation as an ineffective means of becoming-animal, as has already been well rehearsed, this strategy remains key to Coates’s attempts to understand the world from alternative perspectives – especially those of non-human animals. In stark visual contrast to this body of work, Coates’s monochrome sculptural installations Platonic Spirit: Running Grey Wolf (2012) and All the Grey Animals (2012) comprise formal arrangements of grey prisms in the gallery space. Reminiscent of early minimalist works, they initially appear to be a far cry from the artist’s performances. This chapter examines how human–animal relations are articulated through encounters with these installations, speculating on why the wolf was represented in a stand-alone sculpture and considering these works in the context of Coates’s interest in becoming-animal.
Death, grief and mourning before the Second World War
This chapter provides the historical background to the cultural practices of
bereavement and the cultures of grief that were dominant in Britain during
the Second World War. It traces British ‘cultures of death’ from the
elaborate funerals of mid 19th century Britain to the end of the Great War.
By this point, expectation of bereavement had moved from the often
elaborate, formal rituals of the mid 19th century to the restrained funerary
practice and bereavement rituals that dominated the mid 20th century. The
Great War, it argues, strengthened existing patterns of growing restraint
and simplicity in funerary and bereavement practice, and shaped the ways
that people could, or could not, give voice to grief in public.
Shakespeare and the supernatural explores the supernatural in Shakespearean
drama, taking account of historical contexts and meanings together with
contemporary approaches to these aspects in performance on stage, screen and in
popular culture. Supernatural elements constitute a significant dimension of
Shakespeare’s plays, contributing to their dramatic power and intrigue: ghosts
haunt political spaces and psyches; witches foresee the future; fairies meddle
with love; natural portents foreshadow events; and a magus conjures a tempest.
Although written and performed for early modern audiences, for whom the
supernatural was still part of the fabric of everyday life, the plays’
supernatural elements continue to enthral us and maintain their ability to raise
questions in contemporary contexts. The collection considers a range of issues
through the lens of five key themes: the supernatural and embodiment; haunted
spaces; supernatural utterance and haunted texts; magic, music and gender; and
present-day transformations. The volume presents an introduction to the field,
covering terminology and the porous boundaries between ideas of nature, the
preternatural and the supernatural, followed by twelve chapters from an
international range of contemporary Shakespeare scholars whose work interrogates
the five themes. They provide new insights into the central issues of how
Shakespeare constructs the supernatural through language and how supernatural
dimensions raise challenges of representation and meaning for critics and
creators. Shakespeare and the supernatural will appeal to scholars, dramatists,
teachers and students, providing valuable resources for readers interested in
Shakespeare or the supernatural in drama, whether from literary, historical,
film or performing arts perspectives.
In Shakespeare’s England, ghosts were problematic, associated with Catholic
ideas about Purgatory. However, ghosts proved popular on the early modern
stage, and in Shakespeare’s plays the throne is a particularly haunted
space. In Hamlet, Julius Caesar, Richard III and Macbeth, political leaders
encounter ghosts who had held power themselves or who were murdered as part
of the brutal process of obtaining political power. Ghosts not only unsettle
the boundary between life and death in these plays but also question
monarchs’ positions, undermining assumptions of legitimacy. Pursuant to the
theory of the king’s two bodies, the spirit of divine kingship passed
seamlessly to the next legitimate ruler, but in cases of rupture, where
power did not legitimately pass, the spirit of ‘authentic’ monarchy could be
left disembodied, thus constituting a spectral presence displaced from the
political body. Shakespeare was intensely interested in cases of rupture.
This chapter explores the ghosts in these four plays, examining how they
haunt political spaces, and resonate with the additional spectre, the second
ghost, of the disembodied, legitimate ruler.
Transformations and animal selves in contemporary women’s poetry
In her poem ‘What Comes After’, Lorna Crozier’s first-person speaker evades the titular question by transforming herself into her ‘own big dog’ – ‘a big sack of sleep / stinking of me.’ This short poem exemplifies a common trope in contemporary poetry: that of transformation from human to animal as evasion of the self-awareness of being human. This chapter focuses on the transformation poems of Liz Berry and Kim Moore – two younger British poets whose first collections have been recently published – whose poems offer a reading of transformation into the non-human as a release from human social expectations, especially around gendered behaviour and romantic relationships. I argue that Berry’s and Moore’s poems may be seen to operate within an ecofeminist discourse, bringing together the human (woman) and the animal, to trouble a sense of human bodies as autonomous, limited and more-than-animal. I show how these poems seek to break down or push through boundaries between species, and different kinds of communication, finding liberation in the rejection of binarism. Their relationship with the animal is complex and multi-faceted, however, as this chapter will demonstrate, and might raise more questions than they are able to answer.
Transformations of witchcraft in Macbeth discourse
William C. Carroll
This chapter analyses how the Macbeth narrative first appeared (in terse
accounts a few decades after the historical Macbeth’s death in 1057 CE)
without any hint of witchcraft; accounts of Duncan’s death – in battle, not
in a secret murder – emphasised his weakness as a king. The story gradually
acquired witches and their prophecies through the imaginations of early
Scottish chroniclers, especially in Hector Boece’s 1527 Historia Gentis
Scotorum. After Shakespeare’s masterful representation of the ‘wayward
sisters’ in Macbeth, the witches began to multiply in number, sing, and
become semi-comic figures in Restoration adaptations (including a parody of
them as early as 1674). Whatever their nature originally, the witches are
now always connected to prophecy and dream.
This chapter examines how contemporary Swedish Gothic relates to the dismantling of the Swedish welfare system, and how the welfare state is described in terms of horror in Lindqvist’s novels Hanteringen av odöda (2005; Handling the Undead 2009) and Rörelsen. Den andra platsen (2015; The Movement. The Other Place), and Mats Strandberg’s novel Hemmet (2017; The Home). These novels explore the failures of the welfare state in different ways. Lindqvist refers to or quotes iconic leaders associated with the welfare state, and Rörelsen deals with the murder of Olof Palme in 1986, describing the political climate at the time of his death. The zombie story Hanteringen av odöda addresses the incapacity of the state to take care of the undead, and the story indicates a connection between the awakening of the dead and climate change, reflecting the ecological anxiety of contemporary society. Strandberg’s Hemmet depicts the consequences of welfare profiteering and is defined as geriatric Gothic. The setting is a haunted nursing home and the story combines supernatural horror and social critique with the fear of old age, but also with the fear of having to put a family member in an institution run by a profit-based company.
Sara B. Elfgren and Mats Strandberg’s teenage witch trilogy
Maria Holmgren Troy
This chapter examines Sara B. Elfgren and Mats Strandberg’s Engelsfors trilogy, including the novels Cirkeln (2011; The Circle 2012), Eld (2012; Fire 2013) and Nyckeln (2013; The Key 2015). This trilogy, focusing on Swedish teenage witches, combines supernatural Gothic with critical social realism, and highlights the flaws and failures of the welfare state from a number of teenagers’ points of view. It places the story in a particular Swedish geographical and historical setting, while at the same time employing Gothic themes and motifs that have earlier been used in 1990s’ American films and TV series. The chapter explores the use of multiple focalisation, Gothic plot elements, the place of witchcraft, the school as a Gothic location, doppelgängers and divided selves and the attraction and dangers of the witches’ powers. Despite the elements that it shares with certain American Gothic productions, the trilogy is a distinctly Nordic Gothic production in that it manages to create a plural protagonist and in the ways in which the geographical and gloomy social setting are used to tie the Gothic elements to particular historical contexts.
Commodification, corporeality and paranormal romance in Angela Carter’s beast tales
Angela Carter’s The Bloody Chamber is full of metamorphoses, between animal and human, but also of texts. Variants on the same tales and themes allow her to examine the same problems in various ways from different angles. ‘Red Riding Hood’, the wolf and the werewolf are central motifs. This chapter analyses how Carter’s tales depict flesh (usually female) as in the marketplace. Flesh is commodified, but exchange value becomes transformed into use value (that is, following Marx, its sensuous particularity is restored) through her miraculous metamorphoses. There is a vision of utopian mutuality in desire, emancipated and enhanced by immersion into the non-human – a liberation not only from patriarchy but also from the capitalist commodification of those bodies. She initiates the generic hybridity of present-day paranormal romance, where the monster of traditional Gothic becomes a sympathetic lover, forming an architext for the new genre of paranormal romance. The transformations of fairy tale that Carter pioneered work on prior ‘horizons of expectation’ and form one of the devices of that genre. Carter intermodulates genres to create a form that looks back to questions first raised in the Enlightenment about what humanity is and our relation to nature and animality, and bequeathing her explorations to her successors.
This chapter presents two important forerunners to contemporary Nordic Gothic, Danish Hans Christian Andersen (1805–1875) and Swedish Selma Lagerlöf (1858–1940). The chapter sketches their different literary and historical contexts and touches on translations and adaptions of, or contemporary references to, their Gothic stories and novels. The first part of the chapter then focuses on Gothic elements in Andersen’s fairy tales ‘Den lille Havfrue’ (1837; ‘The Little Mermaid’), ‘Snedronningen’ (1844; ‘The Snow Queen’) and ‘De vilde Svaner’ (1838; ‘The Wild Swans’), and briefly relates the first two to the Disney adaptations of those two tales. The second part of the chapter examines folklore, fin-de-siècle and provinciality in the novel Gösta Berlings saga (1891; The Saga of Gösta Berling). The short stories ‘De fågelfrie’ (1892, ‘The Outlaws’) and ‘Stenkumlet’ (1892, ‘The King’s Grave’) are also briefly discussed as examples of Lagerlöf’s use of the forest as Gothic setting.