The diabetic body can be mapped as a profoundly Gothic landscape, referencing theories of the monstrous, the uncanny and the abject. Diabetes is revealed under what Foucault has termed the medical gaze, where the body becomes a contested site, its ownership questioned by the repeated invasion of medical procedures. As an invisible chronic illness, diabetic lifestyle is positioned in relation to issues of control, transformation, and the abnormal normal. Translating the Gothic trope of the outsider into medical and social realms, the diabetic body is seen as the Othered body ceaselessly striving to attain perfection through blood purification rituals. This essay examines how diabetes is portrayed in film and fine art practice from the filmic approach to diabetes as dramatic trope to fine art techniques that parallel ethnographic and sociological approaches to chronic illness.
also the setting of the American-Swedish Rymdinvasion i Lappland (1959; Terror in the Midnight Sun ), a drive-in movie in English for a Swedish audience that shows a strange alien invasion of the Nordic north, complete with egg-head invaders, a gigantic King-Kong-like monster, a young white female in distress and a white, square-jawed male hero. The film is a mash-up of Gothic, sci-fi invasion and the US post-war monster flick that enacts what Fatimah Tobing Rony has referred to as ‘ethnographic spectacle’.
-Sievers for their invaluable suggestions.
As a social anthropologist, my perspectives are drawn from anthropological literature on human–wolf relations or from an anthropological reading of historical and conservation literature on these relations. Ideas relating to how wolves are drawn into human cultures were developed during an ethnographic research project on how Albanian shepherds respond to wolves (see Marvin, ‘Wolves in Sheep
‘Bad Gal Rihanna: The World's Wildest Style Icon’. Rihanna photographed by Mert and Marcus, styled by Edward Enninful
The shoot lacks the subtlety of the Ralph Lauren campaign, and on the surface seems more overtly exploitative in its representation of indigenous peoples (and indeed, its use of real fur). Its very confrontationality, however, its self-conscious fakery, serves more clearly to expose the artificiality of Nelson's ethnographic
Places and spaces in Johan Theorin’s Öland quartet series
terror and evil appear to be located not in the past but in the present. Compared to the present murders, the wrongdoings in the past appear as unfortunate coincidences or acts of God rather than as planned acts of evil by a cunning malicious mind. The exposure of certain aspects of the past of Öland places the reader in what resembles an anthropological or ethnographical position in relation to the actions depicted. On the one hand, the stories are set in a familiar location on Öland, an emblem of sunny summer holidays to most Swedes. On the other hand, the crimes
literary vampire; one of
these, the Byronic, though born in that Romanticism, is still very much
a presence in contemporary vampire texts. In this chapter I will show
the evolution of the Byronic vampire as it mutated from its folkloric
roots, as documented in the ethnography of the likes of Tournefort, into
a powerful literary figure. I will also show that, as this archetype
evolved, it did so through an
first, primarily ethnographical. They commonly depict the peasantry as
deluded by superstition, with priests often cast as a harmful and venial
source of this contagion. Yet the portrait is not necessarily
disparaging; often the people have all the ambiguous integrity and
simplicity of the ‘noble savage’. In these accounts, the
vampire – almost always itself a peasant – becomes a
social control, and its valuation of ordinary viewers, an attention to new modes of delivery and interaction with television drama will develop the research into reception conducted in some of the essays in this book and in other ethnographic studies of the audiences of popular television drama. One aspect of this research will concern the segmentation of audiences, and how different audience groups enjoy and understand programmes differently. In fact, television drama means different things for different audiences. There are generational differences between the
local, as Chow points out in her insightful analysis of film
as ethnography ( 2010a : 148–71 )
utilising Mulvey’s now iconic essay on gender and power in
Hollywood cinema, ‘Visual pleasure and narrative cinema’.
While the return to the past in Japanese cinema of the 1950s and 1960s
functioned as a form of reimagining of national identity outside of the
contaminating influence of Western forms, tied up
Writing popular culture in colonial Punjab, 1885– 1905
instance by tracing the interest in ‘classical’ Punjab and
its survivals in the work of Punjab’s first colonial archaeological survey, which also
collected anthropological and ethnographical material. It then looks at three different
types of overlapping evidence of Punjabi literary culture in English through the
‘collecting’ of folklore, the adaptation and translation of children’s
tales, and the curation and translation of Punjabi lyrics.
Excavating cultures: colonial mythologies in