This article engages with the discourse of food and eating especially as related to the representation of the abject eating-disordered body. I will be particularly interested in the gothic representation of the anorexic and bulimic body in samples of medical advice literature and NHS websites and how they reinforce popular myths about anorexia by imagining the eating disordered body as a fixed object of abjection. Focusing on the use of gothic devices, tropes and narrative structure, these imaginations will be read against alternative representations of anorexic/bulimic bodies in autobiographical illness narratives, fictional accounts and a psychoanalytical case history in order to explore how gothic discourses can help opening up new understandings and conceptions of illness, healing and corporeality in the dialogue between medical staff and patients.
6 See, for example, Amanda Platell, ‘Sorry, why should the NHS treat people
for being fat?’, Daily Mail Online (27 February 2009), www.dailymail.co.uk/
fat.html (accessed 18 September 2016).
7 See, for example, ‘UN panel warns against “designer babies” and eugenics
in “editing” of human DNA’, UN News Centre (5 October 2015), www.
21 October 2016).
United Kingdom of the present, specifically the legislative
dehumanisation of entire swathes of the population at the hands of
welfare reform and policies relating to immigration and asylum, the
ongoing privatisation of the NHS, regionally differential cutbacks
to public services, and the mainstream media’s promotion of a
governmentally sponsored politics of hate. In this, I argue, the
– people from front-line services such as the National Health Service (NHS) – but there was no prescription as to who the character would be. Informed by research into the impacts of austerity on the lives of those who are particularly vulnerable (Ali, 2015 ) and interviews with people who support women when released on a day-to-day basis, Joanne is an example of the way in which Clean Break’s practical politics of care has supported the development of new dramaturgical structures. Joanne is a state-of-the-nation play, capturing the long moment of critical impact
Applied drama, ‘sympathetic presence’ and person-centred nursing
Matt Jennings, Pat Deeny and Karl Tizzard-Kleister
relational ethics of care, as described by Virginia Held ( 2006 ), Joan Tronto ( 2013 ) and Nel Noddings ( 2013 ). However, nurses sometimes struggle to maintain these principles in the face of increasingly ‘mechanistic’ paradigms of care (de Zulueta, 2013 : 123), inadequate staffing levels and ever-changing challenges to patient safety (Louch et al ., 2016 ).
Figure 11.1 Person-centred nursing framework
In the wake of critical reports on the UK National Health Service (NHS), there has been increasing concern about the quality of the ‘patient experience’. A
paperwork’ generated by government processes as
being the ‘biggest cause of stress’ in the workplace
(121–130), with rising stress levels in all occupations ‘now
cited by 36 per cent of all professionals’. Public sector work
increases the chances of stress, which are highest in the NHS (40%)
(184–185, quoting AP Smith et al.).
With the pace, workload and accountability demands of
the errors which even a well-intentioned,
liberal police officer can make in a case that centred on racial difference.
The opening of Simisola makes an interesting contrast to the beginning
of The Franchise Affair. Free indirect discourse – Tey through Robert Blair,
Rendell through Wexford – sets the scene in both. The empire enters Simisola
in the form of Wexford’s Nigerian-born GP, Dr Akande, who the Inspector
is consulting. The NHS waiting room, itself a kind of microcosm of the
community, includes an ‘olive skinned blonde’, who is patently not ‘English’,
upon being ‘authentic’ (13): she
supplements her stick with NHS spectacles, and adopts the
stereotypical persona of a complaining and intolerant elderly
person. In doing so, she finds herself able to inhabit a form
that, while poorly treated, does have an identified persona
which society recognises. An old migrant woman may be
ignored, but to be ignored indicates a denied presence: the
old woman is the ‘other’ of youth and the West’s preoccupation with youthful bodies, the migrant the recognised ‘other’
of white Britain.
Yet unlike Gilroy’s male performers, Randhawa
Care and debility in collaborations between non-disabled and learning disabled theatre makers
in the UK in the 1970s led to the Thatcher government’s policy of community care, as set out in the Mental Health Act of 1983 and refined in the NHS and Community Care Act 1990.
Academic attention in America has also been preoccupied with care, as Patrick McDonagh suggests: ‘For years, the only available histories of idiocy and related concepts were works such as Leo Kanner’s A History of the Care and Study of the Mentally Retarded […] and Peter Tyor and Leland Bell’s Caring for the Retarded in America ’ ( 2008 : 10). This centrality of care reflects the
fallen and corrupt. The effort ‘to correct Nature’,
he grudgingly concedes, ‘in some sort may be tolerable’:
made-up women ‘having for the most part hard favours, [aim]
chiefly to correct their deformities’, and ‘to correct or
cure any deformity or blemish in Nature by lawfull means, not
accompanied with sinfull actions, is tolerable’, even if he is not
optimistic about the end results. 19 N.H.’s entry