’. While he subsequently acknowledges a selection of those nineteenth-century figures of public stature who either embraced or expressed antagonism towards phrenology – John Stuart Mill, Richard Cobden, Robert Owen, Thomas Wakley, John Elliotson, Lord Palmerston, Samuel Taylor Coleridge and Prince Albert among them – Cooter's statement, above, implicates also that vast and anonymous body of people, literate and illiterate, from all socialclasses, whose lives were touched, influenced or, on occasions, significantly shaped by phrenological thought
Phrenology in Britain during the first decade of the nineteenth century
head against her back and shoulders till she obtained relief by means of a seminal discharge.
Whether or not orgasm – the ‘seminal discharge’ of the nymphomaniac – might be considered a form of temporary madness is immaterial here. What is clear is that the customary modesty associated with both gendered biology and socialclass has been breached. In her abnegation of self-control, the exemplified woman has expressed not merely a momentary release or relief but the more extensive
‘open skulls’ which revealed the contoured interior – the city hosted a junior society of sixty-three members, ‘The Edinburgh Ethical Society, for the Study and Practical Application of Phrenology’, which had been founded in 1833; the Ethical Society met weekly, the Phrenological Society fortnightly. Glasgow, likewise, had two societies, one founded in 1829 and a second probably in the 1830s. The junior of these two, which styled itself as the ‘Operatives Phrenological Society’ may well have been differentiated from its counterpart upon social-class lines: a similar
Mesmerism, celebrity practitioners and the schism of 1842–3
intellectual decorum. Rhetorically, the reader is manoeuvred into a position in which the doctrines espoused by Hall cannot be taken seriously because of his humble origins and present place in popular – rather than professional – culture. As Alison Winter rightly notes, socialclass is a factor in the policing of ‘fringe’ medicine.
Mr Spencer Hall was formerly a journeyman printer in the ‘York Courant’ newspaper office; the public will be rather
Brutishness, discrimination and the lower-class wolf-man from The Wolf Man to True Blood
, foreigners – who must be dispatched to restored order; they can never assimilate.
That socialclass shift in the werewolf persona, from gentleman victim to low-status monster, has continued in many popular media depictions of the creature ever since The Wolf Man . This chapter will explore this lesser position of the werewolf by first briefly examining that seminal film. Then, in an effort to contextualise the personification of the werewolf as la bête rather than a beauty, I draw briefly on texts from the seventeenth century through the Victorian
liminality, in fantasy. They come in all shapes, sizes, socialclasses and temperaments. Fairies can be good, evil, mischievous or just amoral.
The Victorian and Edwardian miniature flower fairy retains some of the ambivalence and liminality of her wilder folkloric cousins. Julian Wolfreys argues that ‘spectrality appears in a gap between the limits of two ontological categories’, which can be ‘between life and death, though neither alive nor dead’ ( 2002 : x). Fairies, of any kind, stand in this role. Yuki Yoshino points out that ‘fairies do not exist
Sibling incest, class and national identity in Iain Banks’s The Steep
Approach to Garbadale (2007)
both socialclass and sibling incest’s destructive outcomes,
anti-patriarchal potential notwithstanding. The link between sibling
incest and social privilege is clearly important for Banks’s fiction but
Garbadale develops this further in exploring the connection to
trade. If the social structure of so many patriarchal societies has been
historically defined by the exchange of women, by a ‘trade’ 33 between families
Sara B. Elfgren and Mats Strandberg’s teenage witch trilogy
Maria Holmgren Troy
life, habits and struggles of the person whose body they reside in but also about their own strengths and weaknesses, and their privileges or lack thereof’.
Thus, not only does the body switch defamiliarise the protagonists’ own bodies to themselves; it also effectively highlights the importance of social differences and the existence or lack of nurturing home environments, which is not always linked to socialclass in the trilogy. What makes the body switch in Eld unusual, in addition to the focalisation
, but also for Mary Shelley herself to engage with her aborted creation and, possibly, with her own complicated biography. Moreover, in giving voice to the multiple body parts from whom the Patchwork Girl is assembled, Jackson introduces a multiplicity of other women’s voices and histories straddling socialclasses and other identity markers into the female-authored but male-dominated fictional world of Frankenstein . These are the women denied voices throughout both Shelley’s work and the social reality and broader literature of Shelley’s time. The voices and text
Narrating incest through ‘différance’ in the work of Angela Carter,
A.S. Byatt and Doris Lessing
Emma V. Miller and Miles Leeson
elicits the reader’s sympathy for him, yet although William is not a
violent man, it is unclear whether he is entirely exempt from blame, and
if Eugenia herself deserves censure. Eugenia is depicted as very much a
product of her time and more specifically of her socialclass. Whereas
upper-class Victorian boys were expected to be active decision makers,
girls were passive, infantile possessions, owned and passed from man to