The crisis of masculinity in Ian McEwan’s early fiction
of McEwan’s early work, it is
frequently male protagonists who commit sexualviolence to gain power.
As evidenced in ‘Homemade’, The Cement Garden , and ‘In Between
the Sheets’, it is male characters that feel ineffectual, vulnerable or
weak and are thus driven by an apparent cultural imperative with the
goal of gaining patriarchal dominance. In this way, these characters
expose the fragility of the
and among student bodies and they mark sexualviolence in particular as the most damaging and the most common cause of
trauma among students. Both sides ignore the differences between and
among students, and all fail to account for the differences that race and
class make to experiences with trauma, expectations around protection,
and exposure to troubling materials. For example, we could argue that
immense damage is done in the classroom through the casual avoidance
of certain topics rather than in the act of calling attention to others. So
while representations of
understandings of it as law instituted by society.
Incest, a sexual act associated with transgression,
violations of power and violence, has readily been conflated with sexualviolence in Gothic scholarship and consigned to one of two gendered
plots. Anne K. Mellor, for example, argues that ‘the Gothic novel
written by men presents the father’s incestuous rape of his
daughter as the perverse desire of the older
poets’ imagery, prosody, and tone. One critic even noted Donne’s ‘Spenserian sweetness’, and his grasp of Spenser’s ‘more literary style’. 2
What is altogether missing from the many comparisons between Spenser’s poem to his bride and Donne’s ‘Epithalamion Made at Lincoln’s Inn’ – and the commentary in the Donne Variorum is a virtual list of examples – is any attention to the poets’ shared invocations of sexualviolence, and, specifically, the idea of the bride as fulfilling the role of sacrificial offering. The presence of sacrifice as a
captured admirably by Turberville’s ‘Of whome there scapte not one untoucht’. It is worth noting that this allegation of Herculean sexualviolence is almost entirely muted in the translation that Wye Saltonstall produced in 1637, and disappears altogether from subsequent English translations throughout the seventeenth century. 16
And it is through his depictions of the women who come into the orbit of Hercules that Heywood destabilises the play’s representation of the protagonist’s inexorable progress from heroic deeds to deification. In the middle of the play, for
Printing Terror places horror comics of the mid-twentieth century in dialogue with the anxieties of their age. It rejects the narrative of horror comics as inherently and necessarily subversive and explores, instead, the ways in which these texts manifest white male fears over America’s changing sociological landscape. It examines two eras: the pre-CCA period of the 1940s and 1950s, and the post-CCA era to 1975. The authors examine each of these periods through the lenses of war, gender, and race, demonstrating that horror comics are centred upon white male victimhood and the monstrosity of the gendered and/or racialised other. It is of interest to scholars of horror, comics studies, and American history. It is suitably accessible to be used in undergraduate classes.
At a time when monolingualist claims for the importance of ‘speaking English’ to the national order continue louder than ever, even as language diversity is increasingly part of contemporary British life, literature becomes a space to consider the terms of linguistic belonging. Bad English examines writers including Tom Leonard, James Kelman, Suhayl Saadi, Raman Mundair, Daljit Nagra, Xiaolu Guo, Leila Aboulela, Brian Chikwava, and Caroline Bergvall, who engage multilingually, experimentally, playfully, and ambivalently with English’s power. Considering their invented vernaculars and mixed idioms, their dramatised scenes of languaging – languages learned or lost, acts of translation, scenes of speaking, the exposure and racialised visibility of accent – it argues for a growing field of contemporary literature in Britain pre-eminently concerned with language’s power dynamics, its aesthetic potentialities, and its prosthetic strangeness. Drawing on insights from applied linguistics and translation studies as well as literary scholarship, Bad English explores contemporary arguments about language in Britain – in debates about citizenship or education, in the media or on Twitter, in Home Office policy and asylum legislation – as well as the ways they are taken up in literature. It uncovers both an antagonistic and a productive interplay between language politics and literary form, tracing writers’ articulation of linguistic alienation and ambivalence, as well as the productivity and making-new of radical language practices. Doing so, it refutes the view that language difference and language politics are somehow irrelevant to contemporary Britain and instead argues for their constitutive centrality to the work of novelists and poets whose inside/outside relationship to English in its institutionalised forms is the generative force of their writing.
Heroism, masculinity and violence in Vietnam War narratives
Angela K. Smith
an examination of a range of textual representations of Vietnam: novels
and memoirs by both men and women from both the West and the East. How
do these narratives differ from those representing other wars? Does
Vietnam bring to a climax the crises of masculinity first identified in
the trenches of the Western Front? To what extent does the honesty about
violence, and in particular sexualviolence, influence the way that we
Unveiling American Muslim women in Rolla Selbak’s Three Veils
Alberto Fernández Carbajal
Islamic notions of feminine modesty. In making the film gravitate around these three young women and their individual yet enmeshed perspectives, Selbak explores different challenges assailing Muslim women in the diaspora.
Leila’s vignette charts the events in her life leading up to her forthcoming wedding to Ali, dwelling on the patriarchal institution of the arranged marriage, on coveted Muslim virginity, which still renders Arab American women the bearers of family honour, and on sexualviolence against Arab women. The film opens with a clear
Heterocosms and bricolage in Moore’s recent reworkings of Lovecraft
Matthew J.A. Green
share with From Hell and Voice a meditation on the
interrelationship of the occult and the repressive violence of the
law (‘The Courtyard’), a concern over the psychic
significance of landscape and geography (‘Zaiman’s
Hill’) and an anxiety over the ambivalent associations amongst
magic, sexualviolence and insanity (‘Recognition’).
These stories have been republished in