Newspapers, magazines and pamphlets have always been central, almost sacred, forms of communication within Irish republican political culture. While social media is becoming the primary ideological battleground in many democracies, Irish republicanism steadfastly expresses itself in the traditional forms of activist journalism. Shinners, Dissos and Dissenters is a long-term analysis of the development of Irish republican activist media since 1998 and the tumultuous years following the end of the Troubles. It is the first in-depth analysis of the newspapers, magazines and online spaces in which the differing strands of Irish republicanism developed and were articulated during a period where schism and dissent defined a return to violence. Based on an analysis of Irish republican media outlets as well as interviews with the key activists that produced them, this book provides a compelling long-term snapshot of a political ideology in transition. It reveals how Irish Republicanism was moulded by the twin forces of the Northern Ireland Peace Process and the violent internal ideological schism that threatened a return to the ‘bad old days’ of the Troubles. This book is vital for those studying Irish politics and those interestedin activism as it provides new insights into the role that modern activist media forms have played in the ideological development of a 200-year-old political tradition.
how it became an influential work –of course, not nearly as historically important as the scores for Citizen Kane (1941) or Psycho (1960), but it’s certainly very
influential considering it was never used in the film for which it was intended. In
order to explain its relative significance, I’d like to draw attention to Torn Curtain’s
importance in Herrmann’s discography and how its early re-recording (instigated
by Elmer Bernstein) contributed to its continuing influence over the decades.
By looking at what is and what was commercially available from Herrmann
In this broad sweep, Mayo explores dominant European discourses of higher education, in the contexts of different globalisations and neoliberalism, and examines its extension to a specific region. It explores alternatives in thinking and practice including those at the grassroots, also providing a situationally grounded project of university–community engagement. Signposts for further directions for higher education lifelong learning, with a social justice purpose, are provided.
Women Art Workers constitutes the first comprehensive history of the network of women who worked at the heart of the English Arts and Crafts movement from the 1870s to the 1930s. Challenging the long-standing assumption that the Arts and Crafts simply revolved around celebrated male designers like William Morris, this book instead offers a new social and cultural account of the movement, which simultaneously reveals the breadth of the imprint of women art workers upon the making of modern society. Thomas provides unprecedented insight into how women – working in fields such as woodwork, textiles, sculpture, painting, and metalwork – navigated new authoritative roles as ‘art workers’ by asserting expertise across a range of interconnected cultures so often considered in isolation: from the artistic to the professional, intellectual, entrepreneurial, and domestic. Through examination of newly discovered institutional archives and private papers, and a wide range of unstudied advertisements, letters, manuals, photographs, and calling cards, Women Art Workers elucidates the critical importance of the spaces around which women conceptualised alternative creative and professional lifestyles: guild halls, exhibitions, homes, studios, workshops, and the cityscape. Shattering the traditional periodisation of the movement as ‘Victorian’, this research reveals that the early twentieth century was a critical juncture at which women art workers became ever more confident in promoting their own vision of the Arts and Crafts. Shaped by their precarious gendered positions, they opened up the movement to a wider range of social backgrounds and interests, and redirected the movement’s radical potential into contemporary women-centred causes.
This book examines the impact that nostalgia has had on the Labour Party’s political development since 1951. In contrast to existing studies that have emphasised the role played by modernity, it argues that nostalgia has defined Labour’s identity and determined the party’s trajectory over time. It outlines how Labour, at both an elite and a grassroots level, has been and remains heavily influenced by a nostalgic commitment to an era of heroic male industrial working-class struggle. This commitment has hindered policy discussion, determined the form that the modernisation process has taken and shaped internal conflict and cohesion. More broadly, Labour’s emotional attachment to the past has made it difficult for the party to adjust to the socioeconomic changes that have taken place in Britain. In short, nostalgia has frequently left the party out of touch with the modern world. In this way, this book offers an assessment of Labour’s failures to adapt to the changing nature and demands of post-war Britain.
This is the first book-length study of one of the most significant of all British television writers, Jimmy McGovern. The book provides comprehensive coverage of all his work for television including early writing on Brookside, major documentary dramas such as Hillsborough and Sunday and more recent series such as The Street and Accused. Whilst the book is firmly focused on McGovern’s own work, the range of his output over the period in which he has been working also provides something of an overview of the radical changes in television drama commissioning that have taken place during this time. Without compromising his deeply-held convictions McGovern has managed to adapt to an ever changing environment, often using his position as a sought-after writer to defy industry trends. The book also challenges the notion of McGovern as an uncomplicated social realist in stylistic terms. Looking particularly at his later work, a case is made for McGovern employing a greater range of narrative approaches, albeit subtly and within boundaries that allow him to continue to write for large popular audiences. Finally it is worth pointing to the book’s examination of McGovern’s role in recent years as a mentor to new voices, frequently acting as a creative producer on series that he part-writes and part brings through different less-experienced names.
Chapter 2 investigates the inner world of emotions. The armed forces (and particularly the navy) expected recruits to conduct themselves according to emotional conventions. Mutiny broke those norms of emotional behaviour. To understand mutineer subjectivity then, it is necessary to outline military emotionology and the role of emotions in the mutiny. Fear and anger emerge at the breaking point of mutiny and feature as the most common emotions cited in mutineer accounts. These two emotions (fear and anger) highlight the need to consider emotions as a relationship of mind and body, with mutineers recording the corporal effects of these emotions. If fear and anger punctuate the course of the mutiny at specific points, a broader emotional sequence underpins the cycle of protest and its aftermath. The pattern of hope, joy and despair is discernible and this evolution has considerable importance for the turn of events themselves and their afterlives.
Welles’ films have four evident features. They bring together and overlap different techniques and styles either successively or in a single scene and sometimes within a single shot (depth of field and focal distortions in the attempted suicide of Susan in Citizen Kane); shot sequences and excessively detailed montage sequences, for example, the opening of Touch of Evil and its close that create a gap between sounds and images (they have different references, different rhythms and seem to inhabit different spaces as in the scene of the recording by Vargas of Quinlan’s dialogue with Menzies in Touch of Evil). In Welles’ films there are multiple points of focus in every scene. Welles’ use of depth of field creates different pockets of interest that touch each other, collide or overlap, for example, Thatcher’s visit to the boarding house to take Charles away to be educated in Citizen Kane, or Welles’ play with arrivals and exits (on-screen/off-screen), evident with the arrival of different groups at once scattered, dispersed and criss-crossed after the explosion in Touch of Evil, and in the labyrinth of Cyprus in Othello.
Historians have frequently noted the twin propensities of late eighteenth and early nineteenth-century evangelicals for writing hagiographical and historical narratives. This chapter argues that the interaction of these traditions led to the emergence of a new, distinctively evangelical form of hagiography: that of the ‘practical’ or ‘useful’ saint. This chapter moves beyond the well-worn territory of filial piety to consider how the Clapham ‘saints’ came to be regarded as such. Exploring parallel shifts in the evangelical historiographical tradition and in published funeral sermons, it outlines a set of changing ideals, from the ‘pious philanthropy’ of the 1780s through the middle ground of ‘moral celebrity’ to posthumous ‘practical sainthood’ by the 1830s and 40s. New definitions of sanctity gave rise to new narratives of mediation. The ‘practical saint’ represented the Gospel’s immanent improving power as an historical force, differentiated from the eighteenth-century emphasis on unchanging doctrine. He or she mediated between Providence and the nation, between the domestic and the global, and between industrialising mass society and the individual worker in piety. As Sir James Stephen wrote, concluding his ‘ecclesiastical biography’ of William Wilberforce, recording such a life was an exercise in ‘mémoires pour servir, in the composition of an historical picture’ – an intertwining of hagiography and historiography.
The violence visited upon British Malaya during the Japanese Occupation of December 1941 to August 1945 has prompted several historians to evoke comparisons with the atrocities that befell Nanjing. For the duration of three years and eight months, unknown numbers of civilians were subjected to massacres, summary executions, rape, forced labour, arbitrary detention and torture. This chapter explores several exhumations which have taken place in the territory to interrogate the significance of exhumations in shaping communal collective war memory, a subject which has thus far eluded scholarly study. It argues that these exhumations have not been exercises in recording or recovering historical facts; rather they have obfuscated the past by augmenting popular perceptions of Chinese victimhood and resistance, to the exclusion of all other ethnic groups’ war experiences. As a result, exhumations of mass graves in Malaysia have thus far served as poor examples of forensic investigation; rather these operations highlight how exhumations can emerge as battlegrounds in the contest between war memory and historiography.