This article discusses the genre of family narratives in contemporary German literature against the backdrop of cultural memory in postunification Germany.1 Family narratives lend themselves to a critical study of memory as they enact the transmission and transformation of memories from one generation to the next. Thus, these texts serve a pivotal role as both archives for and reflections on individual and collective memories of 20th century Germany history. Since the late 1990s, i.e., almost a decade after the collapse
Erica Morales, Alex Blower, Samantha White, Angelica Puzio, and Matthew Zbaracki
Ingram, Nicola. 2018. Working-Class Boys and Educational Success: Teenage Identities, Masculinities, and Urban Schooling. London: Palgrave Macmillan.
Pinkett, Matt, and Mark Roberts. 2019. Boys Don’t Try? Rethinking Masculinity in Schools. London: Routledge.
Agyepong, Tera Eva. 2018. The Criminalization of Black Children: Race, Gender, and Delinquency in Chicago’s Juvenile Justice System, 1899–1945. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press.
Farrell, Warren, and John Gray. 2018. The Boy Crisis. Dallas, TX: BenBella Books.
Potter, Troy. 2018. Books for Boys: Manipulating Genre in Contemporary Australian Young Adult Fiction.Wissenschaftlicher Verlag Trier.
Joshua A. Fogel
As is certainly true elsewhere in the world, the East Asian region has its own traditions of travel and travel writing (Fogel 1996: 13–42; Strassberg 1994). These date back many centuries and until relatively recently continued to influence the ways in which men and women actually travelled (how they moved from place to place, what itineraries they followed, and the like) and the genres of travel writings that they produced (prose, poetry and combinations of the two, e.g. Yosano 2001). Tracing the origins and influences of these traditions as well as understanding the impact exerted by Chinese traditions on those of Japan and elsewhere in the region remain important scholarly desiderata.
This article starts from three preliminary and interrelated issues: the status of travel writing as a literary genre and its development in the first half of the twentieth century; the social/textual figures that define the tendencies in travel culture and its main protagonists (especially the dichotomy of traveller/tourist as a particular figure of the dichotomy of high/popular culture); and, finally, the concept of modernism that enables a sound integration of all the elements necessary for such an analysis. In order to facilitate understanding, examples from English literature and travel writing will occasionally be given.
The Classical Union of Athletic and Intellectual Masculinities in Charles Reade's Hard Cash
Marc Milton Ducusin
Charles Reade's sensation novel Hard Cash (1863) ostensibly divides the qualities of athletic and intellectual prowess between its two main male characters, the Oxford rower Edward Dodd and the more academically inclined Alfred Hardie. Their contrasted pairing iterates the sensation genre's trope of doubled identities, while Reade's depiction of their respective aptitudes draws heavily on Classical ideals of male beauty and philosophical learning. Complicating the dichotomy, Alfred increasingly comes to embody the need for cohesion of body and intellect, thus illustrating Reade's vision of Oxford as a 'modern Athens' that 'cultivates muscle as well as mind.'
un mal français
Les deux dernières décennies de la chronique politique française ont été caractérisées, entre autres, par l’éclosion incessante d’« affaires » mettant en cause la probité des dirigeants. Les « scandales » à répétition qui émaillent désormais le débat public en ont profondément affecté la nature. Cet article ne prétend pas proposer une interprétation d’ensemble du phénomène. Il se contente, sur la base des observations de l’auteur, d’avancer quelques pistes de compréhension de cette « corruption » à la française. Nous nous limiterons ici à la sphère proprement politique, même si les « affaires » de ce genre n’épargnent évidemment pas les domaines administratif et économique.
Textbooks as Discourse and Genre
This article examines textbooks, especially history textbooks, seeking to contribute to an emerging body of scholarship that endeavors to understand the nature, specific properties, and characteristics of this medium. Using systemic functional linguistics and a context-based perspective of language as its theoretical point of departure, it argues for a dual imagining of the textbook as discourse and genre. In imagining the textbook, the article calls for a rethinking of comparative textbook research in the future, based on a novel cluster of conceptual priorities deriving from postmodern thought.
Janice M. Allan
Written in 2005 – at which point research into sensation fiction was seen to have reached a ‘crossroads’ – the sentiments expressed by Andrew Maunder resonated widely with those working within the field. Thanks, in part, to the work of Maunder himself, we have made considerable progress in effecting this ‘shift’, not simply in our thinking, but also in the subject of thought. I have in mind here his six volume collection, Varieties of Women’s Sensation Fiction: 1855–1890 (2004) which, together with the scholarly editions published by Broadview Press, Valancourt Books, and, most recently, Victorian Secrets, has served to broaden substantially the field of study and alert us to the breadth and diversity of the genre as a whole. For many of us, myself included, Maunder’s collection represented the first opportunity to read the novels of such ‘forgotten’ sensationalists as Florence Marryat, Felicia Skene, Mary Cecil Hay, and Dora Russell. The fruit of such recovery work has been evident in a number of recent publications, such as Kimberley Harrison and Richard Fantina’s Victorian Sensations: Essays on a Scandalous Genre (2006), as well as a range of journal articles, most obviously those published by Women’s Writing, that move us beyond sensationalism’s most famous triptych of texts.
The World of Irish Women's Best-sellers
This is the opening of Patricia Scanlan’s first best-seller, City Girl, and it also marks the beginning of a compelling chapter in Irish publishing. In 1990, City Girl made the publishers, Poolbeg, a household name in Ireland, finally establishing them in the commercial market they had been chasing since Meave Binchy defected to English publishers with her break through novel Light a Penny Candle (1982). Within twelve months of City Girl’s first run, Scanlan and her editor were media celebrities and other publishers were finding suitable candidates for the packaging process – resulting in best-sellers Deirdre Purcell and Liz Ryan. By best-selling fiction I am referring to high-selling, widely read, popular fiction. The genre is identifiable by packaging, location and theme: fat books about love and relationships, four hundred pages at the least; two or three word titles often eclipsed in size and prominence by the author’s name. These books are widely available outside conventional bookshops, on sale in airports, train stations, supermarkets, large newsagents and corner shops. This thriving best-seller genre has gone largely unremarked in Irish cultural criticism. Yet there has been a remarkable coincidence between its appearance and an upsurge of feminist writing questioning the literary, historical and political heritage of ‘mother Ireland’ for Irish women.
Embracing Contamination in Twentieth-Century Crime Fiction
In Powers of Horror (1982), Julia Kristeva suggests that the corpse is ‘the utmost in abjection. It is death infecting life’. This categorical statement, while not intended for the genre of crime fiction, nonetheless does much to explain the power and appeal of the twentieth century’s most successful fictional formula. For Kristeva, the abject is ‘the in-between, the ambiguous, the composite’ (4); it is experienced as an encounter with ‘an other who precedes and possesses me’ (10) and it is ‘a border that has encroached upon everything’ (3). Borders both defend and confine. They are the necessary limits that protect the subject from psychosis, and they are that which deny us our desired return to a lost imaginary plenitude. Kristeva’s abject evokes seepage, it speaks to the instability of borders, and the impossibility of the pristine, the firm, the uncontaminated. And it is just this sense of unavoidable defilement, this tension between the maintenance and collapse of cultural and social boundaries, that underpins both the crime genre and our fascination with the form.