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European integration in the first two chapters of Part I showed how the leaders of Europe built on the cognitive, motivational, and justificatory resources of collective memory to create a European political community over the course of the second half of the twentieth century. In the previous chapter I then traced how the project has started to sputter with the passing of the generations that had experienced the rupture of 1945 first-hand. Since the turn of the millennium these new leaders have found it difficult to resolve the interlocking economic and political
6 The construction of a religious chain of memory J’ai plus de souvenirs que si j’avais mille ans. Baudelaire, “Spleen” Ancient memories come on in thru my door Rastafari is so true and so pure. Sizzla, “Ancient memories,” 1998 Reggae music and the Rastafari movement transmit a memory of slavery and a memory of Africa, which can be characterized as diasporic, in relation to an original center as much as to the shared experience that followed a founding event: the forced exile provoked by the slave trade. This collective memory is reinforced by a strong
8 Melancholia, Nakba co-memory and the politics of return Introduction In publicising its activities, Zochrot emphasises the shift from denial to Israeli acknowledgement of the Nakba, rightly arguing that denial is no longer tenable. Chapter 7 discussed the performance of co-memory through an analysis of Zochrot’s commemorative practices. This chapter revisits the link between melancholia, race, memory, identity, and politics. Zionist state memory construction involved the creation of myths in the foundation of culture, society and nation (Ohana and Wistrich
Nor will the dead be safe from the enemy, if the enemy wins. And this enemy has not ceased to be victorious. (Walter Benjamin) Places of memory, spaces where collective memory crystallises and takes refuge, are ephemeral and volatile for diasporic peoples. Migration forces a metaphorical permanent renewal of the territorial tie with an abandoned space in material terms and, at the same time, it
according to audience responses, demographics and tastes makes the once intimate connection between cinema and reality remote at best, a distant memory of a century – the century of film, now past – when the ontology of the photographic image could be celebrated by the theorist André Bazin as the death mask of reality, as the fingerprint of the real. Perhaps the greatest champion of the realist vocation of
3 Spatial and architectural memory in oral histories of working life Introduction What happens if we invert the cliche ‘if walls could talk?’ and explore what former factory workers might say about those walls? At first this may sound absurd, but in a broad sense this chapter demonstrates this very approach, for it is here that we turn our attention to the richness of content contained within workers’ memories of the buildings in which they worked. While the disciplines of oral history, design history and architectural history are all beginning to engage with
3 Memory and the child witness in ‘art-house horror’ ‘Cinema can lay claim to the child, as the child lays claim to cinema’, writes Vicky Lebeau, citing the sequence where Ana (Ana Torrent) and her sister Isabel (Isabel Tellería), two girls living in the post-war Spain of the 1940s, watch James Whale’s Frankenstein (1931) in a makeshift cinema in Víctor Erice’s El espíritu de la colmena: ‘the sequence yields one of the most compelling images of children’s look at the screen, or the look of the child caught up in the wonders, and horrors of the moving image
Ogot, Miriam Tlali, Mariama Bâ and Buchi Emecheta deal with the past and the counter-discourse of memory to raise consciousness about the particular problems of gender, colonialism and history will be the focus of this chapter. While African women’s writing does not exclude the need to liberate African peoples from neo-colonialism and other forms of race and class oppression, there is the recognition that a
3 Memory and melancholia This world has been destroyed forever. And my heart often cries when I recall it. Because it was part of my life, my childhood, and it had beauty and connections. Not only fear, not only death. Many of us loved the villages we detonated, that world gone forever. (Haim Guri 2004: 189, emphasis added) After the 1967 war I went to the Shuafat refugee camp as part of my work in order to study its problems ... I asked those who attended the meeting about their villages ... and suddenly another geography, the geography of my childhood, was
The intention of this chapter is to view several of the Old English riddles through the prism of fear: how fear and memories of fear act in the riddles as vehicles of interpretative and moral transformations. I will argue here that, once the concepts of fear and memory are applied to the study of the riddles, a number of them reveal themselves as little short of meditative parables. This is because fear and memory are connected to ideas intrinsic to riddles: to what initially appears unknown, shadowy and uncertain, as well as to the experience of recognition