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Felicia Hemans and Burial at Sea in the Nineteenth-Century Imaginary
Jessica Roberson

This article identifies sea-burial as a topos of the early nineteenth-century imaginary that draws on both Gothic tropes and Romantic reformulations of Gothic aesthetics in order to signal a sea changed poetics of shifting dislocation, decay, and denial in the work of Felicia Hemans. The loss of a corpse at sea makes visible the extent to which any act of posthumous identification relies upon a complex network actively maintained by the living. This article will also develop our understanding of the ways in which Gothic tropes of burial might extend into specifically maritime literary cultures of the early nineteenth century. This strand of a nautical Gothic reflects not only nineteenth-century anxieties about nautical death but the corporeality of both individual and cultural memory. Such representations of sea-burial negotiate a nautical Gothic aesthetic that might propel new understanding of the relationship between poetry and the material dimensions of affective memorialization.

Gothic Studies
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Room for more: the future for Maturin research
Christina Morin

Bertram and Melmoth the wanderer , Maturin’s works never enjoyed a wide public or critical reception. Renowned for his strange peculiarities, Maturin was laughed at as a kind of madman and his literary works largely dismissed as the bizarre product of a diseased mind. Cultural memory and Irish Romantic literary criticism from the time of Maturin’s death to the present day have followed suit, effecting a posthumous suppression

in Charles Robert Maturin and the haunting of Irish Romantic fiction
From global economics to domestic anxiety in contemporary art practice
Tracy Fahey

exacerbates existing postcolonial anxieties around housing and security in Ireland to create these haunted estates, sites of anxiety that recall older Irish cultural memories of dispossession and ruin. To quote Fintan O’Toole: ‘When the past is “now”, the artistic genre that cannot be escaped is the gothic. It is the form of ghosts, revenants, the undead – embodiments of the past

in Neoliberal Gothic
Adaptive symbiosis and Peake’s Presumption, or the fate of Frankenstein
Glenn Jellenik

memory of the novel, a memory that can derive from actual reading, or, as is more likely with a classic of literature, a generally circulated cultural memory. The adaptation consumes this memory, aiming to efface it with the presence of its own images’ (3). The first half of Ellis’s concept is wonderfully productive: literature, whether read or not, adapts into elements of collective cultural memory. But then Ellis veers into an odd and objectionable turn back to the bizarre idea that our ‘cultural memory’ has room for only one version of a given story. The adaptation

in Adapting Frankenstein
Open Access (free)
Christina Morin

overlaps between gothic fictions and apparently distinct forms such as the historical novel and the national tale, and positioning the literary gothic not as the disreputable, popular output of hack writers unworthy of cultural memory but as an invaluable body of widely read literature vital to the transnational development of nineteenth-century literature and culture. The aim of this book has been to outline a new model of gothic literary production reflective of these realities without falling prey either to the trap of unnecessarily limiting

in The gothic novel in Ireland, c. 1760–1829
Kate Newell

M ARY S HELLEY ’ S F RANKENSTEIN (1818) occupies a rare position in our cultural memory: most of us ‘know’ it regardless of whether or not we have read it. This circumstance owes much to James Whale’s 1931 film adaptation, which is often credited with establishing the definitive visual lexicon for Frankenstein . 1 Of course, Whale’s is not the first visual adaption of the novel. Prior to 1931, Shelley’s novel was adapted numerous times for the stage – e.g., Richard Brinsley Peake’s Presumption (1823) and

in Adapting Frankenstein
Hammer Film Studios’ reinvention of horror cinema
Morgan C. O’Brien

of auteurism to establish Fisher’s credentials (Ibid. 49–65). 2 Wheeler Winston Dixon follows Pirie’s auteurist tack by aligning Fisher with John Ford (1991). Dixon compares the ways in which the two filmmakers imagine national myth and cultural memory through genre – for Fisher the British Gothic, and for Ford the American Western (Ibid.). More recently, Sue Harper has recognised Fisher’s influence on the aesthetic choices of his films, but also extends credit to Hammer production designer Bernard Robinson (145–148). Harper draws

in Adapting Frankenstein
The gothic potential of technology
Lisa Mullen

Winston, cut off from cultural memory, cannot possibly read the danger signs; Orwell is placing him inside a ‘junked’ mythos which has the same museal quality as the staged anachronism of the little room with its steel engraving and gateleg table; Winston thinks of it as an ‘inviolate’ world, a relic from the pre-revolutionary era like ‘a pocket of the past where extinct animals could walk’. 45 The junk shop represents a form of materialised memory, but the gothic narrative it references, which Winston cannot access, contains a warning he cannot read

in Mid-century gothic
Locating the globalgothic
Justin D. Edwards

reason. Like the gothic, this diasporic narrative turns away from any recognisable master-trajectory or coherent sense of imaginary origin. In Soucouyant oral narratives and folklore are distant and hardly understood relations to a lost past that are rewritten in a new context. By reframing imagined localised stories and cultural memories, Chariandy reinvokes the past and, in so doing

in Globalgothic
Having one’s cake and eating it too
Marie-Luise Kohlke

the popular imagination, eradicating from cultural memory his numerous ‘intellectual attainments’, his contributions to medical science, and ‘his services...of inestimable value; to the Royal College of Surgeons of Edinburgh and its famous museum (MacLaren, 2000 ). Similarly, Sarah Waters’s self-professed basing of Christopher Lilly, the reclusive pornography bibliophile in Fingersmith (2002), on Henry Spencer Ashbee, aka Pisanus Fraxi (1834–1900), contributes to an over-simplification of Ashbee. Admittedly, Waters

in Interventions