{"title":"Avant-Garde Difficulty and the Shape of Claudia Rankine's Poetic Career","authors":"Eric Weiskott","doi":"10.1111/criq.12799","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1111/criq.12799","url":null,"abstract":"","PeriodicalId":44341,"journal":{"name":"CRITICAL QUARTERLY","volume":"67 1","pages":"72-100"},"PeriodicalIF":0.2,"publicationDate":"2024-11-27","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"144148632","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":4,"RegionCategory":"文学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
{"title":"Defined As","authors":"Peter Womack","doi":"10.1111/criq.12800","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1111/criq.12800","url":null,"abstract":"<p>In March 2024, the then UK Communities Secretary, Michael Gove, unveiled a new official definition of ‘extremism’. It turned out to be something of a damp squib, but the attendant announcements and guidance notes suggested that he meant it to be important. The exercise was informed, then, by the assumption that defining a word may be a consequential political act in itself. Is that so? Is there a politics of lexicography?</p><p>The definition is politically slanted, but it presents itself as the straight answer to a straight question: what is extremism? It does not even admit to having an author; the definition of the word appears as an impersonal fact. This effect of objectivity has obvious ideological advantages. In Orwell's <i>1984</i>, sinister philologists rewrite the dictionary so as to make the English language incapable of expressing liberal ideas. If you can determine what words mean, you can control thought.</p><p>Of course that is one of Orwell's boldly Swiftian simplifications. Real-life lexicographers do not wield such power, and a definition is not a once-for-all edict; it is common for a single word to be defined variously, depending on what the definition is for. So ‘salt’, say, will have one definition in a dictionary for foreign learners of English, and a different one in a glossary for students of chemistry. Definitions which are adapted to particular contexts in this way can hardly claim general authority. But among these contexts, there is at least one in which definitions really are designed to be arbitrarily authoritative—namely, the specification of terms that normally forms part of the text of a law. A legislator's definition is not the same thing as a lexicographer's, because the legislator actually is in the business of exercising power.</p><p>So far from explaining what is meant by ‘infrastructure’, this merely repeats the word itself, apparently in the belief that it is self-explanatory. Despite what they say, the authors of this section are not really interested in meaning. Rather, the function of their definition is to delineate a class of objects which one can be prosecuted for disrupting. The class has no general validity: it exists only for the purposes of this law, and according to a later clause it can be altered by statutory instrument—that is to say, ‘key national infrastructure’ denotes what the Secretary of State may at any time say it does. The expression is semantically empty in the same way as ‘category A prison’ or ‘grade 2 listed building’: the definition is not an exposition of what the words mean, it is the label on a box.</p><p>The opposite kind of definition is elegantly exemplified, as it happens, by another account of ‘extremism’, produced in 2016 as part of the judgment in a libel case.<sup>4</sup> The Chief Imam at an Islamic centre, Shakeel Begg, had been described as an extremist on a BBC current affairs television programme and was seeking damages; the BBC's defence was that what had been","PeriodicalId":44341,"journal":{"name":"CRITICAL QUARTERLY","volume":"67 1","pages":"101-110"},"PeriodicalIF":0.2,"publicationDate":"2024-10-23","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/epdf/10.1111/criq.12800","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"144148617","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":4,"RegionCategory":"文学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"OA","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
{"title":"Keywords: Decolonise","authors":"Seth Mehl","doi":"10.1111/criq.12798","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1111/criq.12798","url":null,"abstract":"<p><i>Decolonising</i> has become central to contentious discourses connecting historical (in)equalities and (in)justice to the present day. Recent debates have revolved around proactive inclusion and forcible exclusion, and the concrete and abstract elements of <i>decolonising</i>, and it is these competing semantic elements, alongside recent rapid semantic change, that render <i>decolonising</i> a keyword. In this journal, <i>decolonising the curriculum</i> was described as ‘perhaps the most important slogan in British academic letters in recent years’.<sup>1</sup> Usage of <i>decolonise</i> has recently extended well beyond narrow, established specialist or technical debates, such as the decline of empires or <i>decolonising the curriculum</i>. Even as those debates have hit mainstream news, <i>decolonising</i> itself has spread to other domains and expanded semantically into equalities discourses unrelated to colonial histories.</p><p><i>Decolonise</i> is formed from <i>de-</i> and <i>colonise</i>, which in turn derives from <i>colony</i>. <i>Colony</i> itself has a rich history, borrowed into Early Modern English from Middle French <i>colonie</i>. <i>Colony</i> has referred to a wide range of specific human settlements established by emigrants, whether under political and economic control by the emigrants' country of origin or not (C16). In extended use, it could refer to a sub-group moving away from a larger population to pursue a disparate lifestyle, as in <i>artists' colony</i> or <i>nudist colony</i> (from C17); or, in contrast, forcibly removed, as in <i>leper colony</i> or <i>penal colony</i> (from C19). In broader usage, it could refer to a sub-group living within a larger population, but distinguished from that population by, for example, status or occupation (from C16), or nationality, race or religion (from C19). <i>Colony</i> thus refers from earliest usage to in-group and out-group status.</p><p><i>Colonise</i> has currency from C17, first referring simply to the settlement in a new territory by a group of people; then (from early C18) to settlement by a group alongside deliberate political, military, and economic appropriation, occupation and/or exploitation by that group's country of origin; and finally (from late C18) to such deliberate exploitation without any population settlement at all.</p><p><i>Decolonise</i> was rare before late C20. Early examples from C19 have one of three senses: (1) to ‘undermine’ colonial occupation; (2) to free from the political and military occupation of a colonial power; (3) to free from the social and cultural influence of a colonial power. It seems that the first sense can represent only the stance of the coloniser, implying legitimacy to the colonial enterprise. The second and third senses can reflect the stance of the colonised and the work for liberation, and it is these two senses that reappear in mid-C20. <i>Colonise</i> develops a variation of this third sense in late C20, meaning to soc","PeriodicalId":44341,"journal":{"name":"CRITICAL QUARTERLY","volume":"67 1","pages":"111-116"},"PeriodicalIF":0.2,"publicationDate":"2024-10-14","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/epdf/10.1111/criq.12798","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"144148424","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":4,"RegionCategory":"文学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"OA","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
{"title":"The Clinch","authors":"Anna Devereux","doi":"10.1111/criq.12801","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1111/criq.12801","url":null,"abstract":"<p>It was Jane Austen who clinched it. When Martin Amis died last year, an essay he had written for <i>The New Yorker</i> in 1995 titled ‘Jane's World’ resurfaced on Twitter.<sup>1</sup> In this essay, Amis recounts how he and Salman Rushdie found themselves trapped in the cinema confronted with Richard Curtis's <i>Four Weddings and a Funeral</i>, a film they both loathed; Amis wrote it off as ‘Jane Austen, in a vile new outfit’. I have always hated this film: how Andie MacDowell's career survived this bafflingly empty performance long enough for her to gain my favour with her charming turn in <i>Magic Mike XXL</i> I will never understand. To discover that Amis felt the same way (about <i>Four Weddings</i>—he never voiced publicly his views on the <i>Magic Mike</i> franchise) warmed me to him. I read on to find that we felt the same way about many things, the most crucial being Jane Austen. Here was Amis, unashamedly calling himself a ‘pious and vigilant Janeite’, his tirade against the film quickly morphing into a celebration of Austen's <i>Pride and Prejudice</i>.<sup>2</sup> Amis praises that, 200 years after Austen's death, her most celebrated novel ‘<i>goes on</i> suckering you’; it is obvious that Elizabeth and Darcy must end up together by the nature of the genre, Amis admits, but even so, Austen inspires a ‘panic of unsatisfied expectation’ in readers who know the plot back to front. Amis's <i>London Fields</i> (1989) suckers its readers too: It is a story that from the outset tells you where it will end and yet torments you with panicked imaginations of what might take place.<sup>3</sup></p><p>Labelled as a ‘Who'll do it’ rather than a ‘whodunnit’, the novel follows American writer Samson Young (Sam), on a stay in London to cure his writer's block. Sam, through an unlikely friendship with professional cheat and darts extraordinaire Keith Talent and wretchedly good Guy Clinch, uncovers a plot by the irresistible Nicola Six to bring about her own murder. Nicola, an erotic cartoon of a femme fatale who employs sexual prowess to tempt fate, has garnered much attention in the critical discourse surrounding Amis, many citing her as prime evidence for their arguments that his writing about women is misogynistic. In a 2001 episode of BBC Radio 4's <i>Bookclub</i>,<sup>4</sup> the discussion heads straight for Nicola. One reader raises Amis's claim that reading Gloria Steinem made him a feminist, asking the author if he would have written Nicola differently had he read Steinem first. ‘I did,’ corrects Amis, meaning that Nicola was informed by his engagement with feminism. Amis insists that Nicola ‘wonderfully satirises male illusions’. For Amis, Nicola holds all the power, within both the text and his own writing practice: ‘I felt very much that Nicola Six was writing this novel with me and I would sometimes, as the narrator does, appeal to her,’ just as Sam laments in the novel's final pages, ‘She outwrote me. Her story worked. And mine didn't.’","PeriodicalId":44341,"journal":{"name":"CRITICAL QUARTERLY","volume":"67 1","pages":"117-121"},"PeriodicalIF":0.2,"publicationDate":"2024-10-10","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/epdf/10.1111/criq.12801","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"144148325","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":4,"RegionCategory":"文学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"OA","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
{"title":"‘Notebook Literature’: Virginia Woolf and Marion Milner","authors":"Helen Tyson","doi":"10.1111/criq.12784","DOIUrl":"10.1111/criq.12784","url":null,"abstract":"<p>In February 1933, Virginia Woolf found herself ‘quivering’, ‘itching’ with anticipation at her next writing project, ‘the sequel’ to <i>A Room of One's Own</i>, for which she had ‘collected enough powder to blow up St Pauls’.<sup>1</sup> In three large notebooks compiled between 1931 and 1937, Woolf pasted newspaper clippings, letters, photographs, political pamphlets, handwritten and typewritten quotations, and other ephemera, testimonials of everyday life lived in early 20th-century Britain. The three now-crumbling scrapbooks that Woolf compiled in the 1930s speak eloquently to her methods. Covering her notebooks by hand with cloth and marbled paper, Woolf made detailed typed index pages for each volume and abbreviated handwritten indexes, which she pasted onto the top left-hand corner of each cover (see Figures 1 and 2). Inside these notebooks, clippings detailing university accounts appear side-by-side with letters asking for donations to women's colleges, while photographs of men in ceremonial and military garb jostle with quotations from ‘lectures by men’ on their ‘Hatred of w[omen]’, handwritten notes about women's access to abortion, men's opinions on women's smoking, nail polish and football, and newspaper cuttings quoting the speeches of Hitler, Goebbels and Goering.<sup>2</sup> Drawing on these ‘scrapbooks’ (as many scholars have come to call them) in <i>Three Guineas</i> (1938), Woolf would draw a line from the ‘tyrannies and servilities’ of the English private house to the toxic growth of fascism taking hold across both Europe and Britain in the 1930s, arguing that the germ of fascism could be found in British broadsheet newspapers as much as in the speeches of Hitler and Mussolini.<sup>3</sup> For Woolf, women's position as ‘outsiders’ gave them a unique vantage point from which to criticise the reigning structures of capitalist, patriarchal and fascist power.<sup>4</sup> For Woolf, keeping scrapbooks formed part of her own outsiders' experiment—an experiment not only in criticising capitalist, patriarchal and fascist power but also in imagining an alternative society freed from servility to (what she described as) the ‘manly satisfaction’ of war.<sup>5</sup></p><p>In the years that Woolf was compiling her scrapbooks, the writer, educationist and soon-to-be psychoanalyst, Marion Milner, was preoccupied with her own project of keeping notebooks and diaries. In her notebooks from the 1930s, Milner recorded thoughts, desires, doodles, drawings and quotations, gathering up the raw material for the books that she would publish under the penname Joanna Field as <i>A Life of One's Own</i> (1934) and <i>An Experiment in Leisure</i> (1937). In these books, Milner developed a ‘method’ for tracking her own wants, desires and interests, attempting to disentangle that vexed question of what a woman wants, from the pleasures imposed upon us by the outside world.<sup>6</sup> And yet, in the course of her experiments, Milner found herself strugg","PeriodicalId":44341,"journal":{"name":"CRITICAL QUARTERLY","volume":"66 3","pages":"4-37"},"PeriodicalIF":0.2,"publicationDate":"2024-08-07","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/epdf/10.1111/criq.12784","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"141949422","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":4,"RegionCategory":"文学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"OA","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
{"title":"Poetic Licentiousness and the Destitutions of High Culture","authors":"Rick de Villiers","doi":"10.1111/criq.12786","DOIUrl":"10.1111/criq.12786","url":null,"abstract":"<p>In his primer for chroniclers of the African condition, the Kenyan writer Binyavanga Wainaina makes a modest proposal: exploit the poor.<sup>1</sup> Protruding ribs, fly-tormented eyelids and the potbellies of skeletal children are key. Other essentials include careful descriptions of crumbling infrastructure and rotting (black) corpses. The same depth and detail should not extend to the characters themselves. ‘The Starving African can have no past, no history …. She must never say anything about herself in the dialogue except to speak of her (unspeakable) suffering.’<sup>2</sup> However ugly, such stereotypes are means to a greater end—winning the observer's pity, perhaps even their charity.</p><p>Wainaina's ‘How to Write About Africa’ is clearly not an <i>ars poetica</i> but a parody. And like all good parody, it magnifies things that never move quite below the threshold of our perception. We see in the parodist's crosshairs those authors who perpetuate market-ready exoticism, but also those readers whose leering sympathy sustains the trend, which is to say we recognise the trappings of poverty porn. And we recognise poverty porn when we see it, as it too trades in hyperbole and caricature: oversaturated images, blunt realism, morbidity and pathos crudely mixed. Poverty porn caters to low tastes and base desires on the one hand, to disingenuously altruistic sentiments on the other. Yet such a definition neglects how poverty can be differently fetishised. It ignores a type of writing that turns abjection into artistic ideals; it passes over works that appear to insist that something will indeed come of nothing. Standing notions of poverty porn do not therefore trouble the destitutions of high culture—not Beckett's tramps, Shakespeare's beggars, Baudelaire's wretches, nor the shepherds of the pastoral tradition whose humility is the ground for their exaltation.</p><p>What follows is not an attempt to make poverty porn a more capacious category. Already, the term is used to dismiss writing whose context allows for little separation between fictive and documentary modes, or whose authors deliberately pursue the conflation of these modes.<sup>3</sup> By the same token, crying ‘poverty porn’ is a kind of apotropaic act. It not only declares a work to be aesthetically suspect but also uses this suspicion to ward off any affective or ethical demands, any possibility that the reader might somehow be implicated by the representation of inequality. My concern, instead, is to define the features of another type of poverty fiction: an overtly literary type that fails to trigger moral-aesthetic outrage precisely because of this emphatic literariness—a type that doesn't tug at the heart but excites the imagination.<sup>4</sup> The word <i>imagination</i> will be key, as it suggests that poverty can be the object of poesis as much as mimesis, the stuff of dubious fantasy and not just dubious reality.<sup>5</sup> Where poverty porn tends to let poverty speak","PeriodicalId":44341,"journal":{"name":"CRITICAL QUARTERLY","volume":"67 1","pages":"50-71"},"PeriodicalIF":0.2,"publicationDate":"2024-05-16","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/epdf/10.1111/criq.12786","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"140966335","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":4,"RegionCategory":"文学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"OA","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
{"title":"A Surface Reading of Vladimir Nabokov","authors":"Aleksandra Violana","doi":"10.1111/criq.12783","DOIUrl":"10.1111/criq.12783","url":null,"abstract":"<p>Within Vladimir Nabokov’s repertory of elaborate trickery, <i>Transparent Things</i><sup>1</sup> stands out as an unusually slim, schematic volume, in the words of the <i>New York Times Book Review</i> ‘a small mock replica’ of a grander, life-long architectural enterprise.<sup>2</sup> Nabokov first published the 104-page novella in 1972, to little critical consensus. If some described it as the work of an author ‘at the height of his style, and the full complexity of his artistic understanding’,<sup>3</sup> others received it as ‘a mere fragment’, ‘black humour its only attraction’.<sup>4</sup> Among those who read it favourably enough to hazard an interpretation, attention was as likely to be paid to Nabokov’s construction of a schematic ‘X-ray of a novel’,<sup>5</sup> as to the ‘grotesque comic’ of a ‘hero’, who is, ‘like <i>Lolita</i>’s Humbert Humbert, entranced by a creature preposterously inadequate to the adoration’<sup>6</sup> — an interpretation less likely to offer insight into <i>Transparent Things</i> than evidence a tradition of readings of <i>Lolita</i> for which the novel itself has often been panned.<sup>7</sup> Nabokov’s own diary entry from 1972 documents ‘Reviews oscillating between hopeless adoration and helpless hatred. Very amusing’.<sup>8</sup> It may be this which prompted him to uncharacteristically offer an interpretation, if with tongue held firmly in cheek: in an interview with an unnamed New York newspaper stylised on the pages of 1973’s <i>Strong Opinions</i>, Nabokov frames <i>Transparent Things</i>’ as ‘merely a beyond-the-cypress inquiry into a tangle of random destinies’, creating a ‘structural knot’.<sup>9</sup> As Eric Jarosinski would later remark, this in fact also functions as a ‘structural <i>not</i>’:<sup>10</sup> a skein of briefly glimpsed, tangled and matted moments presented out of order, precluding the easy extraction of any central thread teased by the author.</p><p>Of course, Nabokov’s fictions have always been prone to inviting a measure of detective work on the part of his readers. It has become customary to read his novels as structurally indebted to games, riddles and puzzles, especially following the publication of his <i>Lectures on Literature</i> in the 1980s.<sup>11</sup> Extending the logic of Nabokov’s earlier <i>Poems and Problems</i>, which placed literary texts alongside invented chess scenarios with a presumed single solution,<sup>12</sup> Nabokov’s lectures posit an even more general affinity between textual and tactical games by reading authors from Dostoevsky to Austen as grandmasters of strategy games of their own invention.<sup>13</sup> What distinguishes <i>Transparent Things</i>, published five years before the author’s death in 1977 and well into his repertoire of play, however, is that it from the first frames its activities as the matter of a game played between the literal figures of author and reader. That is, the text is unfailingly ‘transparent’ about its existence as","PeriodicalId":44341,"journal":{"name":"CRITICAL QUARTERLY","volume":"67 1","pages":"4-29"},"PeriodicalIF":0.2,"publicationDate":"2024-05-14","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/epdf/10.1111/criq.12783","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"140981642","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":4,"RegionCategory":"文学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"OA","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
{"title":"Mrs Gulliver's Travels: Minor-Character Elaboration in Theory and Practice","authors":"Daniel Cook","doi":"10.1111/criq.12785","DOIUrl":"10.1111/criq.12785","url":null,"abstract":"<p>Mary Burton, a hosier's daughter from London, married a 20-something seafaring surgeon from Nottinghamshire in 1688. Eleven years later, her husband undertook the first of four voyages to several remote nations that later became the basis of bestselling memoirs. This book is Jonathan Swift's <i>Gulliver's Travels</i> (1726), a prose satire that has been abridged, adapted and reworked for different audiences ever since. Mary barely features in <i>Travels</i>, and even then Lemuel mostly refers to her in passing as ‘my Wife’ (on nineteen occasions). A faint paranarrative can be salvaged from such asides. By the third voyage, we detect marital conflict in the casual remark that the ‘only' difficulty Lemuel faces in undertaking the latest journey entails securing his wife's consent.<sup>1</sup> For each voyage, the narratorial imperative demanded Gulliver's wanderlust over familial dutifulness: ‘I stayed but two Months with my Wife and Family; for my insatiable Desire of seeing foreign Countries would suffer me to continue no longer’.<sup>2</sup> In moments of despair, Gulliver can engage our empathy: ‘I slept about two Hours, and dreamed I was at home with my Wife and Children, which aggravated my Sorrows when I awaked and found my self alone in a vast Room’.<sup>3</sup> More often, Swift's characters service comedy: ‘My Wife ran out to embrace me, but I stooped lower than her Knees, thinking she could otherwise never be able to reach my Mouth’.<sup>4</sup> And finally, after living with the Houyhnhnms he so greatly admired, Lemuel rejects his kin and kind: ‘During the first Year I could not endure my Wife or Children in my Presence, the very Smell of them was intolerable’.<sup>5</sup> Here, the satire darkens into a misanthropic comment on the hypocrisies of civilised society. When brought to the surface, the paranarrative of the domestic lives of the Gullivers undermines critical assumptions about the extent to which <i>Travels</i> can be understood in the formal context of ‘the novel’. In that specific context, Gulliver fulfils a narrative function that anchors the prose satire and is not what John Frow calls a quasi-person.<sup>6</sup> Novelistic elements nevertheless haunt the pages of the mock-memoirs. To unravel the puzzle of the novelistic non-novel, we should turn our attention to other aspects of form or genre, such as secondary characters.</p><p>Even though she does not appear in <i>Travels</i> as such, Mary Gulliver's quasi-personhood is more readily assured by the coherence of her implicit role as the loyal wife and mother waiting in London. And yet the gendered limitation of such a specific archetype, in subservience to a neglectful male protagonist, has enticed secondary authors to round out the character more fully in recent reworkings. What is <i>post scriptum</i> fulness of character, and how is it achieved? Not only is Mary given direct speech in modern novels and short stories, she also revises the fantastical voyaging that ha","PeriodicalId":44341,"journal":{"name":"CRITICAL QUARTERLY","volume":"67 1","pages":"30-49"},"PeriodicalIF":0.2,"publicationDate":"2024-05-14","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/epdf/10.1111/criq.12785","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"140978531","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":4,"RegionCategory":"文学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"OA","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}