Concerns of linguistic, cultural and military incursion from France emerge more frequently in the wake of the Seven Years’ War. In the literary arena, one of the ways in which these concerns are marked is through the highly-contested national stakes of chivalry. This essay argues that these national stakes of chivalry are negotiated in the realm of the Gothic romance in a particularly fluid and dynamic manner. Addressing recent critical assumptions about the conservatism inherent in prose treatments of medieval chivalry, the essay explores the possibility that Gothic romance recuperates a more positive version of chivalry in the wake of the famous Burke/Wollstonecraft revolutionary debate of 1790.
Based on a study of intersecting French archives (those of the Val de
Grâce Hospital, the Service Historique de la Défense and the
Archives Diplomatiques), and with the support of numerous printed sources, this
article focuses on the handling of the bodies of French soldiers who died of
cholera during the Crimean War (1854–56). As a continuation of studies
done by historians Luc Capdevila and Danièle Voldman, the aim here is to
consider how the diseased corpses of these soldiers reveal both the causes and
circumstances of their deaths. Beyond the epidemiological context, these dead
bodies shed light on the sanitary conditions and suffering resulting from years
of military campaigns. To conclude, the article analyses the material traces
left by these dead and the way that the Second Empire used them politically,
giving the remains of leaders who died on the front lines of the cholera
epidemic a triumphant return to the country and a state funeral.
Sacralisation and militarisation in the remembrance of the ‘cursed soldiers’
Marije Hristova and Monika Żychlińska
Between 2012 and 2017, at the Ł-section of Warsaw’s Powązki Military Cemetery, or ‘Łączka’, the Polish Institute of National Remembrance exhumed a mass grave containing the remains of post-war anti-communist resistance fighters. Being referred to as the ‘cursed soldiers’, these fighters have become key figures in post-2015 Polish memory politics. In this article we focus on the role of the volunteers at these exhumations in the production of the ‘cursed soldiers’ memory. Following the idea of community archaeology as a civil society-building practice, the observed processes of sacralisation and militarisation show how the exhumations create a community of memory that promotes the core values of the currently governing national-conservative PiS party. We found that tropes related to forensic research and typically identified with cosmopolitan memory paradigms are used within a generally nationalist and antagonistic memory framework.
This essay argues that Stephen King‘s 2006 novel Cell explores the age of terror with the aid of two concurrent Gothic discourses. The first such discourse belongs to the tradition that Patrick Brantlinger has termed Imperial Gothic. As such, it imagines with the War on Terror that the threat that the (Gothic) Other constitutes is most usefully managed with the help of massive, military violence. The other, and more traditional, Gothic discourse radically imagines such violence as instead a War of Terror. The essay then argues that Cell does not attempt to reconcile these opposed positions to terror. Instead, the novel employs the two Gothic discourses to describe the epistemological rift that terror inevitably creates.
and that only presents mixed results in the so-called civil–military coordination in humanitarian responses. The challenge for humanitarian agencies to work effectively and according to their missions and principles while cohabitating the same spaces (geographical and others) as military and non-state armed actors has been a headache for decades. Contexts of violent conflict are usually examples of all that can go wrong when civil–military coordination is not prioritised. But those are not the only contexts where humanitarian agencies struggle to find and protect
Marco Aurelio Guimarães, Raffaela Arrabaça Francisco, Martin Evison, Edna Sadayo Miazato Iwamura, Carlos Eduardo Palhares Machado, Ricardo Henrique Alves da Silva, Maria Eliana Castro Pinheiro, Diva Santana, and Julie Alvina Guss Patrício
Exhumation may be defined as the legally sanctioned excavation and recovery of the
remains of lawfully buried or – occasionally – cremated individuals, as distinct from
forensic excavations of clandestinely buried remains conducted as part of a criminal
investigation and from unlawful disinterment of human remains, commonly referred to as
bodysnatching. The aim of this article is to review the role of exhumation – so defined –
in the activities of CEMEL, the Medico-Legal Centre of the Ribeirão Preto Medical
School-University of São Paulo, in international, regional and local collaborations.
Exhumations form part of routine forensic anthropology casework; scientific research in
physical and forensic anthropology; and forensic casework conducted in collaboration with
the Brazilian Federal Police; and are carried out as part of humanitarian investigations
into deaths associated with the civil–military dictatorship of 1964 to 1985. This article
aims to offer a non-technical summary – with reference to international comparative
information – of the role of exhumation in investigative and scientific work and to
discuss developments in their historical and political context.
The military coup of March 1976 in Argentina ruptured the prevailing institutional order,
with the greater part of its repressive strategy built on clandestine practices and
tactics (death, torture and disappearance) that sowed fear across large swathes of
Argentine society. Simultaneously, the terrorist state established a parallel, de facto
legal order through which it endeavoured to legitimise its actions. Among other social
forces, the judicial branch played a pivotal role in this project of legitimisation. While
conscious of the fact that many of those inside the justice system were also targets of
oppression, I would like to argue that the dictatorship‘s approach was not to establish a
new judicial authority but, rather, to build upon the existing institutional structure,
remodelling it to suit its own interests and objectives. Based on an analysis of the
criminal and administrative proceedings that together were known as the Case of the
judicial morgue, this article aims to examine the ways in which the bodies of the
detained-disappeared that entered the morgue during the dictatorship were handled, as well
as the rationales and practices of the doctors and other employees who played a part in
this process. Finally, it aims to reflect upon the traces left by judicial and
administrative bureaucratic structures in relation to the crimes committed by the
dictatorship, and on the legal strategies adopted by lawyers and the families of the
Between 1975 and 1979, thirty-one unidentified bodies bearing marks of torture appeared
at various locations along Uruguays coastline. These bodies were material proof of the
death flights implemented in neighbouring Argentina after the military coup. In Uruguay,
in a general context of political crisis, the appearance of these anonymous cadavers first
generated local terror and was then rapidly transformed into a traumatic event at the
national level. This article focuses on the various reports established by Uruguayan
police and mortuary services. It aims to show how,the administrative and funeral
treatments given at that time to the dead bodies, buried anonymously (under the NN label)
in local cemeteries, make visible some of the multiple complicities between the Uruguayan
and Argentinean dictatorships in the broader framework of the Condor Plan. The repressive
strategy implemented in Argentina through torture and forced disappearance was indeed
echoed by the bureaucratic repressive strategy implemented in Uruguay through incomplete
and false reports, aiming to make the NN disappear once again.
Dead bodies, evidence and the death march from Buchenwald to Dachau, April–May 1945
Christopher E. Mauriello
This article utilises the theoretical perspectives of the forensic turn to further expand our historical understandings and interpretations of the events of the Holocaust. More specifically, it applies a theory of the materialities of dead bodies to historically reconstruct and reinterpret the death march from Buchenwald to Dachau from 7 to 28 April 1945. It focuses on dead bodies as ‘evidence’, but explores how the evidential meanings of corpses along the death-march route evolved and changed during the march itself and in the aftermath of discovery by approaching American military forces. While drawing on theories of the evidential use of dead bodies, it remains firmly grounded in empirical historical research based on archival sources. The archives at the Buchenwald Concentration Camp contain eyewitness accounts and post-war trial testimony that enable a deeply contextualised ‘microhistory’ of the geography, movements, perpetrators, victims and events along this specific death march in April and May 1945. This ‘thick description’ provides the necessary context for a theoretical reading of the changing evidential meanings of dead bodies as the death march wove its way from Buchenwald to Dachau and the war and the Holocaust drew to an end.
Reframing Experience in Harun Farocki’s Eye/Machine Series
Harun Farocki’s Eye/Machine (2003) is a video installation which analyses how what Farocki calls ‘the operational image’ reconfigures our visual regimes. The ‘operational image’ allows machines to operate ever more autonomously and to perform their tasks with no need for human supervision. Farocki links the birth of such operational images to the missiles with integrated cameras used during the Gulf War (1991) and therefore to military purposes. Eye/Machine poses a paradox: operational images generate a process of abstraction in which the image depicted (in the case of the war, the battlefield) gets detached from its indexical dimension, appearing as abstract and unreal. However, such detachment can be reversed when these images are recontextualised and reframed within an exhibition space, since that places them within a human experiential framework. Images, and our perception of them, are part of what Judith Butler calls the ‘extended materiality of war’. Thus, war is not only fought in the battlefield, but also at the level of the senses.