Search results
In 1960–62, a large number of white autochthonous parents in Southall became very concerned that the sudden influx of largely non-Anglophone Indian immigrant children in local schools would hold back their children’s education. It was primarily to placate such fears that ‘dispersal’ (or ‘bussing’) was introduced in areas such as Southall and Bradford, as well as to promote the integration of mostly Asian children. It consisted in sending busloads of immigrant children to predominantly white suburban schools, in an effort to ‘spread the burden’. This form of social engineering went on until the early 1980s. This book, by mobilising local and national archival material as well as interviews with formerly bussed pupils in the 1960s and 1970s, reveals the extent to which dispersal was a flawed policy, mostly because thousands of Asian pupils were faced with racist bullying on the playgrounds of Ealing, Bradford, etc. It also investigates the debate around dispersal and the integration of immigrant children, e.g. by analysing the way some Local Education Authorities (Birmingham, London) refused to introduce bussing. It studies the various forms that dispersal took in the dozen or so LEAs where it operated. Finally, it studies local mobilisations against dispersal by ethnic associations and individuals. It provides an analysis of debates around ‘ghetto schools’, ‘integration’, ‘separation’, ‘segregation’ where quite often the US serves as a cognitive map to make sense of the English situation.
. Political Frankensteins alarmed O’Connell’s professed sympathies for the principles of Chartism made him a more difficult opponent to deal with than someone who was openly opposed to them as it implied his opposition was merely the product of strategic and tactical differences. If only the Chartists had realised the errors of their ways, all would have been well in his view. This meant that it was
-bomb’ in a cartoon that portrayed a scientist cultivating a baby in a test-tube, before it emerged, grew into a monster and imprisoned him.15 Similar concerns appeared in the Daily Mail, which printed a cartoon that showed a ‘Doctor Frankenstein’ horrified to find that he had accidentally cloned the Prime Minister, Harold Wilson. The Times, meanwhile, highlighted the eugenic implications of IVF when it warned that politicians in totalitarian states might use it to ‘concentrate on breeding a race of intellectual giants’.16 Although IVF did not feature in Doomwatch, Kit
symbiotic movement. Halberstam’s contribution is perhaps most significant in her gesture towards the Gothic body as a kind of patchwork entity, stitched together from fragments and scraps of discourse. Following on from Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein (1818), the idea of an artificially assembled being whose piecemeal identity challenges the Enlightenment notion of the well
can seldom be drawn faster than at the rate of six English miles a day, against the stream’, requiring a fortnight to make the journey (Radcliffe 2009 [1794] : 153). In Mary Shelley's Frankenstein , published in 1818, Dr. Frankenstein attempts to journey by boat from Switzerland to Rotterdam along the Rhine and then back to England. As expected, Frankenstein describes the ruined castles, tremendous precipices, and meandering river being so captivating that ‘even I, depressed in mind, and my spirits continually agitated by
’. However, the meanings that colonial subjects attached to the tours and imperial culture itself, made in the empire, could not be dictated to or controlled by Whitehall, Windsor, or Government Houses in Cape Town or Bombay. Like Victor Frankenstein’s monster, they had a life of their own and produced unintended consequences. This work is about these complex processes of reception and appropriation
very plain, and is after all, so really like what is passing around us, I will relate it as a fact.’ The Gothic ambience is further underlined by Oastler’s spectral description of the man, reminiscent of the creature in Frankenstein : He was very tall, but very thin. His bones were large and long – wrapped up in folds of skin
-together monstrosity recalling popular images of the poor as Frankenstein’s monster. This monstrosity, recalling Sedgwick’s Gothic conventions, is unspeakable: ‘it seemed indescribable’. If the language of Gothic is being used in this passage in order to communicate the horror of poverty, however, it also seems to defer the poor’s bodily actuality in endless layers of cloth. Both Dandy and
Susan Wright, Molecular politics: developing American and British regulatory policy for genetic engineering, 1972–1982 (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1994); Robert Bud, The uses of life: a history of biotechnology (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993). 6 Jon Turney, Frankenstein’s footsteps: science, genetics and popular culture (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1998). 7 Bud, Uses of life; Wright, Molecular politics. Defence research and genetic engineering 139 8 Jon Agar, Science in the twentieth century and beyond (Cambridge: Polity
decayed and idolatrous civilisation. But if Negroes left much to be desired then the British bore responsibility for this: ‘we brought him here, and we have no right to complain of our own work. If, like Frankenstein, we have tried to make a man, and made him badly; we must, like Frankenstein, pay the penalty’. Like Trollope, Kingsley saw hope in coloured people, who claimed to be, and indeed were, ‘our