Gothic, in a sense, has always been 'queer'. This book illustrates the rich critical complexity which is involved in reading texts through queer theories. It provides a queer reading of such early Gothic romances as William Beckford's Vathek, Matthew Gregory Lewis's The Monk, and Charles Maturin's Melmoth the Wanderer. Building upon critical trend of desire between men, the book examines Frankenstein's engagement with sexual rhetoric in the early nineteenth century. It explores some ways in which the signifying practices of queerness are written into the language and, therefore, the signifying practices of Gothic fiction. Teleny's apparently medicalised representation of homosexual erotic love contains some strikingly Gothic elements. The book examines how the courtroom drama of the E. M. Forster's A Passage to India focuses on the monstrous possibility of miscegenation, an Indian accused of raping an Englishwoman. Antonia White's Frost in May can be contextualised to the concept of the 'lesbian Gothic', which helpfully illuminates the representation of adolescent female subjectivity and sexuality. Same-sex desire is represented indirectly through sensuous descriptions of the female body and intertextual allusions to other erotic texts. The book considers how the vampire has become an ambivalent emblem of gay sexuality in late twentieth-century Gothic fiction by examining Interview with the Vampire and Lost Souls. The understanding of the Gothic and queer theory in a pop video is achieved by considering how Michael Jackson's use of the Gothic in Thriller and Ghosts queers the temporality of childhood.
This book demonstrates a fruitful cross-fertilisation of ideas between British queer history and art history. It engages with self-identified lesbians and with another highly important source for queer history: oral history. The book highlights the international dimension of what to date has been told as a classic British tale of homosexual law reform and also illuminates the choices made and constraints imposed at the national level. It embarks on a queer critical history, arguing for the centrality, in John Everett Millais's life-writing, of the strange-to-us category of unconventionality. The book aims to expose the queer implications of celebrity gossip writing. It offers a historical analysis of the link between homosexual men and gossip by examining the origins of the gossip column in the British tabloid press in the three decades after 1910. The book provides an overview of the emergence and consolidation of a number of new discourses of homosexuality as a social practice in postwar Britain. It explores a British variant on homophile internationalism before and immediately after the 1967 Sexual Offences Act by mapping Grey's cross-border connections while noting strain against transnational solidarity. The book focuses on evidence collected by the 1977 Committee on Obscenity and Film Censorship to illustrate how gay men conceptualised the place of pornography in their lives and its role in the broader struggle for the freedom.
This book is a study of solo performance in the UK and Western Europe since the
turn of millennium that explores the contentious relationship between identity,
individuality and the demands of neoliberalism. With case studies drawn from
across theatre, cabaret, comedy and live art – and featuring artists,
playwrights and performers as varied as La Ribot, David Hoyle, Neil Bartlett,
Bridget Christie and Tanja Ostojić – it provides an essential account of the
diverse practices which characterise contemporary solo performance, and their
significance to contemporary debates concerning subjectivity, equality and
social participation. Beginning in a study of the arts festivals which
characterise the economies in which solo performance is made, each chapter
animates a different cultural trope – including the martyr, the killjoy, the
misfit and the stranger – to explore the significance of ‘exceptional’ subjects
whose uncertain social status challenges assumed notions of communal
sociability. These figures invite us to re-examine theatre’s attachment to
singular lives and experiences, as well as the evolving role of autobiographical
performance and the explicit body in negotiating the relationship between the
personal and the political. Informed by the work of scholars including Sara
Ahmed, Zygmunt Bauman and Giorgio Agamben, this interdisciplinary text offers an
incisive analysis of the cultural significance of solo performance for students
and scholars across the fields of theatre and performance studies, sociology,
gender studies and political philosophy.
Can reading make us better citizens? This book sheds light on how the act of reading can be mobilised as a powerful civic tool in service of contemporary civil and political struggles for minority recognition, rights, and representation in North America. Crossing borders and queering citizenship reimagines the contours of contemporary citizenship by connecting queer and citizenship theories to the idea of an engaged reading subject. This book offers a new approach to studying the act of reading, theorises reading as an integral element of the basic unit of the state: the citizen. By theorising the act of reading across borders as a civic act that queers citizenship, the book advances an alternative model of belonging through civic readerly engagement. Exploring work by seven US, Mexican, Canadian, and Indigenous authors, including Gloria Anzaldúa, Dorothy Allison, Gregory Scofield, Guillermo Gómez-Peña, Erín Moure, Junot Díaz, and Yann Martel, the book offers sensitive interpretations of how reading can create citizenship practices that foreground and value recognition, rights, and representation for all members of a political system.
Anecdotal evidence of the testimonies of patients who received treatments for sexual deviations and medical attitudes towards them are scattered in the recorded accounts of gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgendered, intersex and queer/questioning (GLBTIQ) people. This book examines the plight of men who were institutionalised in British mental hospitals to receive 'treatment' for homosexuality and transvestism, and the perceptions and actions of the men and women who nursed them. It explores why the majority of the nurses followed orders in administering the treatment - in spite of the zero success-rate in 'straightening out' queer men - but also why a small number surreptitiously defied their superiors by engaging in fascinating subversive behaviours. The book is specifically about the treatments developed for sexual deviations in the UK. Transvestism was also treated fairly widely; however, not to the same extent as homosexuality. After an examination of the oppression and suppression of the sexual deviant, the introduction of aversion therapies for sexual deviance is considered. During the 1930s-1950s, mental health care witnessed a spirit of 'therapeutic optimism' as new somatic treatments and therapies were introduced in mental hospitals. The book also examines the impact these had on the role of mental nurses and explores how such treatments may have essentially normalised nurses to implement painful and distressing 'therapeutic' interventions . The book interprets the testimonies of these 'subversive nurses'. Finally, it explores the inception of 'nurse therapists' and discusses their role in administering aversion therapy.
In this chapter I want to argue for the importance of thinking queer in our practice as historians. Engaging with what I see as a persistent tendency in recent work on modern British same-sexualities, I tease out the possibilities opened up by shifting our definition of queer from a position to a process; from a mode of sexual selfhood – however unstable – to a set of critical practices; from something we consider our subjects to be, to something we do. In so doing I draw upon Laura Doan’s recent work, particularly the challenging reading of
This book explores representations of queer migrant Muslims in international
literature and film from the 1980s to the present. It brings together a variety
of contemporary writers and filmmakers of Muslim heritage engaged in vindicating
same-sex desire from several Western locations. The book approaches queer
Muslims as figures forced to negotiate their identities according to the
expectations of the West and of their migrant Muslim communities. It coins the
concept of queer micropolitical disorientation via the work of Gilles Deleuze
and Félix Guattari, Sara Ahmed and Gayatri Gopinath. The author argues that
depictions of queer Muslims in the West disorganise the social categories that
make up contemporary Western societies. The study covers three main themes:
queer desire across racial and national borders; Islamic femininities and
masculinities; and the queer Muslim self in time and place. These thematic
clusters examine the nuances of artistic depictions of queer Muslims’ mundane
challenges to Western Islamophobia and Islamicate heteronormativity. Written in
a scholarly but accessible style, this is a timely contribution to the
controversial topic of Islam and homosexuality, forging understanding about the
dissident position of Muslims who contravene heteronormative values and their
equivocal political position in the West.
C an there
be a queer Michael Jackson?
In some ways the question is naive: Michael Jackson can
be nothing but queer , if we take ‘queer’ to mean
sexually ambiguous, protean, corporally illegible. Yet critically
speaking, there is no queer Michael Jackson: the MLA on-line
bibliography gives me no hits for Michael+Jackson+queer (or
Matrilinearity, Sufism, and l’errance in the autofictional works of
Alberto Fernández Carbajal
F ROM THE disquisition of gender and sexuality in the literary and film work of Shamim Sarif, Sally El Hosaini, and Rolla Selbak, I now move on to interrogate the interaction of the queer self with Islamicate ideologies and cultures as located in time and place. In the story ‘From Jenih to Genet’, originally published in Abdellah Taïa’s Le rouge du tarbouche (The red of the fez) in 2005, the author’s young autobiographical counterpart is taken by his distant cousin Ali on a pilgrimage to the Moroccan city of Larache. Taïa’s first two
MISCEGENATIONS AND FORSTER’S HOMOSEXUALITY 1
were round white clouds in the sky, and white pools on the
earth; the hills in the distance were purple. The scene was
as park-like as England, but did not cease being queer. 2