introduces crisis … The ‘third’ is a mode of articulation, a way of describing a space of possibility. Three puts in question the idea of one: of identity, self-sufficiency, self-knowledge.
In her conclusion, Garber insists that ‘the wolf inscribes itself all over the text of transvestism’, drawing attention to a number of apparently coincidental references to wolves in transvestite texts
first group seeks legislative means to halt wolf re-emergence or at least to restrict it. The second also seeks such measures to ensure their continued protection and wolves’ rights to exist in their new territories.
New narratives, and contested opinions, will also emerge about the ways of these new wolves but, from my social constructivist perspective, it is impossible to discover a true wolf lurking within them, or between them. Karen Jones comments, on the contested positions of science and literature in terms
, still inhabit the northern reaches of Norway, Sweden, Finland and Russia is central and informs these narratives in different ways, as this chapter will discuss in detail.
Because the Arctic and sub-Arctic in Greenland, Sweden, Norway and Finland have long been, and remain, the home of indigenous populations that still contest Nordic colonialism, it is not surprising that Nordic Gothic set in this region brings up colonial issues. However, Nordic Gothic that considers colonialism also takes place in very different locations. John Ajvide Lindqvist
textuality, new media identities, and the boundaries of the human offered by an engagement with digital frameworks for storytelling. This is in addition to the great extent to which the themes pursued in the text resonate with contemporary concerns around biotechnology, genetic modification, and the threat of a posthuman future. Shelley Jackson’s CD-ROM-based multimedia work Patchwork Girl, by Mary/Shelley and Herself (1995), composed and published in the early days of hypertext enthusiasm, is an early new media work that grapples with Shelley’s novel and its themes
Places and spaces in Johan Theorin’s Öland quartet series
. This kind of series often opens with the female protagonist leaving her everyday life in the city for a new job in a distant area on the outskirts of modern civilisation. Anders Engström and Henrik Björn's Swedish TV drama Jordskott (2015) and Johan Kindblom and Thomas Tivemark's Ängelby (2015) are both set in fictitious communities in Swedish forests and the two female protagonists’ mystical experiences contest the customary image of today's Nordic society. As in some of these TV productions, the story revolves around the mystery of a missing person, a child in
Mary Shelley’s motivic novel as adjacent adaptation
Kyle William Bishop
adapted text itself. According to Shelley’s introduction to the third edition of Frankenstein (1831), she consciously sought secondary source material in her efforts to construct her ‘original’ contribution to Lord Byron’s famous ‘ghost story contest’ of 1816. Drawing from a number of inspirations, Shelley crafted her story as a deliberate adaptation, one that ‘must be linked to something that went before’ (167). In a process notably similar to that undertaken by her fictional Victor Frankenstein, Shelley’s creative effort became one of invention and organisation
Frankenstein meets H.P. Lovecraft’s ‘Herbert West – Reanimator’
Jeffrey Andrew Weinstock
identity and the relationships of the ‘I’ to the ‘not-I’, of subject to object, of self to world, and of self to body. And, in a cultural moment saturated with zombie imagery, the animate corpse finally asks us what it means to be human at all (on the ontological questions raised by zombies, see Cohen’s ‘Undead’ and McRobert’s ‘Shoot Everything’).
Interestingly, at the same moment in which zombies have achieved unprecedented cultural prominence, these questions of the relationships of self to non-self and of the animate to the inanimate are
anxiety I would thus like to add age to Clover's list. For, rather than gender, age is the category under scrutiny in Strandberg's possession narrative, although it of course intersects with other thematically subordinate identity markers. In a culture obsessed with youth, ageing – depicted as bodies that are out of control and losing their grip, leaking, drying out and becoming ugly – can be associated with feelings of fear and disgust. Ageing and dying are processes to be contested and repressed and the elderly are among the most vulnerable and powerless in society
Frankenstein, neo-Victorian fiction, and the palimpsestuous literary past
‘conventions of narrative, of reference, of the inscribing of subjectivity, of [their] identity as textuality, and even of [their] implication in ideology’ (106). A neo-Victorian novel might recreate a version of Victorian London, Manchester, or Birmingham that captures the past with great historical accuracy, 3 but its primary motivation in doing so would be ‘an essentially revisionist impulse to reconstruct the past by questioning the certitude of our historical knowledge’ (Shiller 541). There is always, as Peter Widdowson explains, a ‘“present understanding” of past
Graphic children’s texts and the twenty-first-century monster
about swinging baseball bats with a ‘BASH!’ The next page tells us: ‘Huffing and puffing, mad about NOTHING, their ten favorite words were NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, and NO!’ Grouch, Grump, and Gloom ’n’ Doom fight, complain, and throw tantrums in their ongoing competition to determine who is the most monstrous – or naughtiest – child. Their contest culminates in their plan to ‘make a MONSTER monster. The biggest, baddest monster EVER!’ McDonnell adds an ironic inversion of Shelley’s text when the threesome is disappointed not at their creation’s monstrosity