registering the association of this table with somewhere in the region of Afghanistan – a beautifully carved, if rather battered and cracked little table you bought for five pounds at an auction in Cheam village with your mother one day in the 1970s – and seeing that you actually put the phone down on top of a small volume containing Wilhelm Jensen’s Gradiva and Freud’s ‘Delusion and Dream in Wilhelm Jensen’s Gradiva ’, 1 in such a way that it concealed the lower half of Freud’s face but left his piercing left eye still gazing out above it, his right eye in shadow, and
’ and instead for ‘elegance, civility and grandeur’. 2 As this chapter explores, the nascent consumer culture surrounding domestic, suburban modernity in the 1930s demonstrated a comparable tension – caught between promoting the home as an escapist spectacle and celebrating conservative ideals of historical tradition, stability and Englishness. By attending to the growing consumerism surrounding domestic life in this earlier period, I resituate postwar aspirational interiors – ‘dream palaces’ onscreen – as engaging with interwar structures of feeling that negotiated
What is this – dream in literature ? The phrase might be construed in at least three ways:
the role and importance of dreams in literary works (in a short story, such as Edgar Allan Poe’s ‘Ligeia’; a poem, such as Percy Bysshe Shelley’s ‘The Question’; a play, such as Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream ; or a novel, such as Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights );
the impulse or compulsion to dream, to fall into reverie, to lose oneself in a dream or dreamlike state while reading a work of literature, the experience of
reader lived’, and the ‘Dystopia or negative utopia –
a utopia that the author intended a contemporaneous reader to view as
considerably worse than the society the reader now lived’. 2 These definitions
hold true for films. Claeys and Sargent also distinguish the
‘Utopian satire’, defining it as ‘a criticism of an
existing society’. 3 They place these subgenres under the umbrella term
alone, Helena’s reflex is to extend her disbelief to the absent Demetrius – and infinitely in time (‘never’):
Wherefore was I to this keen mock’ry born?
When at your hands did I deserve this scorn?
Is’t not enough, is’t not enough, young man,
That I did never, no, nor never can,
Deserve a sweet look from Demetrius’ eye,
But you must flout my insufficiency?
And when Demetrius in person confronts her with what should be her dream come true, showering her with ‘sweet look[s]’, she only renews and deepens her resistance
Dream , she explained that she was not writing a third volume of her autobiography ‘because of possible hurt to vulnerable people’. With these words she seemed to offer this novel as a substitute autobiography while simultaneously refusing that interpretation (she also stated that she had not ‘novelised autobiography’). The novel was widely read as an attack on the political idealism of the 1960s that attempted to revise or rewrite the radicalism of the period. In 2007, Lessing published The Cleft , an account of a Roman senator’s attempt to grapple with the
Transvaluation, Realization, and Literalization of Clarissa in The Monk
D. L. Macdonald
Lorenzo‘s dream, at the beginning of Lewis‘s The Monk (1796), is closely based on Lovelace‘s dream, near the end of Richardson‘s Clarissa (1747-48); the realization of Lorenzo‘s dream, in the rape and murder of Antonia at the end of Lewis‘s novel, is based closely on Clarissa‘s dream, near the beginning of Richardson‘s. Lewis consistently (in the terms Gérard Genette uses in Palimpsests) devalues Lovelace‘s dream and revalues Clarissa‘s, achieving a transvaluation of Richardson‘s novel. He also literalizes many of Richardson‘s metaphors, a process which, as Tzvetan Todorov argues in The Fantastic, is essential to the fantastic, and which as Margaret Homans argues in Bearing the Word, enables the articulation of womens experiences. As a result, The Monk, despite its conflicted sexual politics, does contribute to the feminization of fiction that was part of the historical project of the Gothic.
surrealists’ attempts to ‘reproduce the marvellous, to
create a borderline world between dream and reality’ ( 2002 : 45). A more general preoccupation with
play, inherited from the surrealists, runs through her work in the form
of dreams, collage aesthetics and games. Implicated in complex
operations of excess and boundedness, chance and convention, the notion
of play brings into focus the tension between Carter’s textual
Twenty-first-century Scottish play-acting draws depth and energy from a European and Western tradition of dreaming Scottish dreams, and this tradition dates back to at least the late eighteenth century, to the beginnings of European Romanticism. This book explores how contemporary celebrations of Scotland build upon earlier Scottish fantasies. The Scottish dreamscape is one of several pre-modern counter-worlds which have been approached through imitation in the past. The book examines the 'Scotland' that is on the play-actors' minds. The Scottish dreamscape was formed in an eighteenth- and nineteenth-century process now best known as Highlandism. It was then that Scotland became associated with the aesthetics and supposed characteristics of its Highland periphery. The book also explores the Scottish dreamscape's spread via the channels of the British Empire and American popular culture. It identifies five key carriers which helped to disseminate the Scottish aesthetic across the world, namely epic poetry, the Highland regiments, music hall entertainment, Hollywood films, and romance novels. The book further focuses on fieldwork conducted in 2009 and 2010. It sheds some light on the different forms of Scottish play-acting, on musicians, athletes, commemorators, and historical re-enactors. The pipers and athletes do not imitate the past; they perform in what they hope are old but living Scottish traditions. Commemorators and historical re-enactors have a different aim. They seek to recreate the past in the present. Finally, the book identifies some of the main reasons for the Scottish dreamscape's special resonance in northern and western Europe.
‘Sublime dreams’: ruin paintings
and architectural fantasies
From the beginning of the eighteenth century, ruins, vestiges of the
past and architectural fragments became an essential feature of the
British cultural imaginary and a recurrent topos in the arts. For more
than a century, the fascination they exerted was fuelled by archaeological discoveries, direct encounters with classical sites by British
visitors on the Grand Tour and then social and political upheavals
which forcefully drew attention to the transience of all things. Such