LITERATURE AND MEDICINE最新文献

{"title":"Better Medicine: Shared Suffering and Chronic Vulnerability in Brian Teare's The Empty Form Goes All the Way to Heaven","authors":"Tana Jean Welch","doi":"10.1353/lm.2023.a911448","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1353/lm.2023.a911448","url":null,"abstract":"Abstract: A posthumanist understanding of the body does not view \"illness\" and \"health\" as properties of the individual body, but as emergent features of the relationships between bodies. As such, a relational view of health opens up avenues for the betterment of both human bodies and their social and physical environments. Drawing on posthumanism and the ethics of vulnerability, this article demonstrates how Brian Teare's The Empty Form Goes All the Way to Heaven (2015) provides a different way of thinking (and doing) illness, death, and vulnerability. With his acceptance and promotion of the body's dynamic materiality and chronic vulnerability, Teare advances a posthuman ethics based on our shared embodied condition.","PeriodicalId":44538,"journal":{"name":"LITERATURE AND MEDICINE","volume":"39 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2023-03-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"135532789","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":"Becoming-Amazon: Femininity, Embodiment, and Sexuality in a Photographic and Digital Breast Cancer Project","authors":"Katja Herges","doi":"10.1353/lm.2023.a911446","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1353/lm.2023.a911446","url":null,"abstract":"Abstract: In recent decades, digital and photographic life narratives by women living with breast cancer and mastectomy have gained public visibility. This article examines how a documentary and fashion photography project in contemporary Berlin rethinks normative concepts of femininity, embodiment, and sexuality through the performance of the breast cancer patient as Amazon warrior. Based on feminist theory, disability studies, media studies, and in particular Gilles Deleuze's concept of becoming , I coin the term \"becoming-Amazon\" for the process of relational subjectivity formation that the project opens up. Uta Melle's project shifts notions of post-mastectomy bodies as unfeminine, incomplete, or asexual and envisions and celebrates a multiplicity of relational femininities, embodiments, and erotic zones with difference. By combining digital cancer activism and an aesthetics and politics of visibility, difference, and intercorporeality, Melle's project intervenes in contemporary cancer discourse and unsettles what has been considered as redemptive cancer culture.","PeriodicalId":44538,"journal":{"name":"LITERATURE AND MEDICINE","volume":"5 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2023-03-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"135532544","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":"Foreword to Front Matter: Recovery","authors":"Michael Blackie","doi":"10.1353/lm.2023.a911438","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1353/lm.2023.a911438","url":null,"abstract":"Foreword to Front Matter:Recovery Michael Blackie We all know something about recovery. The return of a lost object, like health or dignity, maybe a cherished memento, or a talisman from another time. It is a narrative driven experience, propelled by expectation, a story we tell to make sense of what can be recovered or to put into perspective that which remains beyond reach. In either case, getting there or not is the story. In this time of Covid, many of us can now describe recovering from an infection, an idea that seemed frighteningly uncertain before vaccines became available. And for too many, recovery doesn't come, like for my dear mentor Carol Donley, who died this past April from complications of Covid, or for those enduring symptoms of long Covid, like the author whose relapse prevented her from completing her contribution to this issue's Front Matter. There are even grimmer realities, like when a search-and-rescue mission becomes a recovery operation. Yes, we all know something about recovery and we're drawn to stories about someone, even a stranger, who has triumphed over illness, adversity, or injustice. The six contributions that follow tell stories about recovery or challenge the narrative conventions upon which they are told. Here is mine. Each spring I teach a session on close reading to nursing students in a seminar on hospice care. The literary text I assign is Sherman Alexie's \"Blankets,\" told by a narrator who is the son of an elderly Indian man who has just undergone a surgical amputation of his right foot and several toes from his left, the consequences of alcoholism and diabetes.1 Most of the story takes place in what the son calls a \"recovery hallway\" in a busy urban hospital in Washington state (44). The story's rich descriptions and metaphors reward close reading, but it's an odd story for a class on hospice care because no one in it dies or enters hospice. The focus is, rather, on becoming a caregiver. The son's growing awareness of what his father's recovery will demand [End Page 5] from him as his caretaker illuminates the dynamics of informal care- giving for these future nurses. The recovery ahead promises to be daunting. The son knows his father will continue to drink once he is discharged, that he will likely put his disfigurement to work in the local bar, winning bets doing wheelies in his new wheelchair. As the son begins to see traditional roles reversing, with the adult child now caring for the ill parent (the \"circle of life\" he calls \"poetic bullshit\"), students inevitably begin sharing their own experiences with caregiving (47). They will differ in the details, but where we get to is mostly the same: how the idea of recovery can become oppressive when it seems always out of reach, when one realizes recovery's narrative expectations will go unmet. It is at this point in the discussion when I draw students back to the text, back to the \"recovery hallway\" specifically, to highlight its liminality and ask them","PeriodicalId":44538,"journal":{"name":"LITERATURE AND MEDICINE","volume":"29 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2023-03-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"135532542","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":"Are We Ever Really Recovered?","authors":"Gianna Paniagua","doi":"10.1353/lm.2023.a911443","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1353/lm.2023.a911443","url":null,"abstract":"Are We Ever Really Recovered? Gianna Paniagua (bio) [End Page 51] Click for larger view View full resolution [End Page 52] Click for larger view View full resolution [End Page 53] Click for larger view View full resolution [End Page 54] Click for larger view View full resolution [End Page 55] Click for larger view View full resolution [End Page 56] Click for larger view View full resolution [End Page 57] Click for larger view View full resolution [End Page 58] Click for larger view View full resolution [End Page 59] Click for larger view View full resolution [End Page 60] Gianna Paniagua Gianna Paniagua is a two-time heart transplant recipient of 30+ years, papercutting sculptor, and graphic medicine artist who is from and based in NYC. She utilizes her lifetime of experiences in medicine to create artwork about the dualities of the human body, as well as comics that ask questions about the chronic illness patient experience. The core of her practice is trying to find a visual vocabulary when there is loss of language due to medical trauma. Her lifelong goal is to find solutions to problems that exist in the field of transplantation for young adult patients. Copyright © 2023 Johns Hopkins University Press","PeriodicalId":44538,"journal":{"name":"LITERATURE AND MEDICINE","volume":"179 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2023-03-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"135532543","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":"High Rates","authors":"E. T. Russian, Juliet McMullin, Delight Satter","doi":"10.1353/lm.2023.a911440","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1353/lm.2023.a911440","url":null,"abstract":"High Rates E. T. Russian (bio), Juliet McMullin (bio), and Delight Satter (bio) [End Page 13] Click for larger view View full resolution [End Page 14] Click for larger view View full resolution [End Page 15] Click for larger view View full resolution [End Page 16] Click for larger view View full resolution [End Page 17] Click for larger view View full resolution [End Page 18] Click for larger view View full resolution [End Page 19] Click for larger view View full resolution [End Page 20] Click for larger view View full resolution [End Page 21] Click for larger view View full resolution [End Page 22] Click for larger view View full resolution [End Page 23] Click for larger view View full resolution [End Page 24] Click for larger view View full resolution [End Page 25] E. T. Russian E. T. Russian is a multi-sensory installation artist, maker of comics and zines, disability justice advocate, and healer. Russian is the author of The Ring of Fire Anthology (Left Bank, 2014), codirector of documentary Third Antenna, and a featured artist with Sins Invalid. Russian has been published in Graphic Public Health (Penn State University, 2022), Disability in American Life: An Encyclopedia of Concepts, Politics, and Controversies (ABL-CLIO, 2018), Skin, Tooth & Bone (Sins Invalid, 2016, 2019), and Gay Genius (Sparkplug, 2011). Their comics are in the permanent collections of the Library of Congress and the Washington State Convention Center. ETRUSSIAN.com. Juliet McMullin Juliet McMullin is a Professor of Family Medicine and Director for Medical Humanities and Arts in the School of Medicine at the University of California, Irvine. Her research focuses on health equity and relational practices of being, explorations of intersectional approaches in medicine, and creative reimagining for care through community-engaged research. The community-engaged project Chihuum Piiuywmk Inach/A Gathering of Good Minds led to the creation of the Historical Wisdom podcast: https://gogm.live/podcast. Her research in graphic medicine engages the role of comics-making and visual narratives of diverse experiences of health equity. Delight Satter Delight Satter, MPH, is a Senior Advisor for Native and Tribal Affairs with the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention; her participation in the development of this comic is in her personal capacity. She is a tribal member and Elder of the Confederated Tribes of Grand Ronde, Oregon. Satter co-leads the Tribal data modernization initiative and has co-authored numerous peer-reviewed publications focused on improving data capacity for American Indian/Alaska Native populations. She is Faculty Associate for UCLA's Center for Health Policy Research and served on the board for the California Pan-Ethnic Health Network and Native American Cancer Research Center. Copyright © 2023 Johns Hopkins University Press","PeriodicalId":44538,"journal":{"name":"LITERATURE AND MEDICINE","volume":"91 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2023-03-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"135532783","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":"Prairie Madness: Mental Illness and Norwegian Immigration to North America in the Late Nineteenth and Early Twentieth Centuries","authors":"Virginia Langum","doi":"10.1353/lm.2023.a911451","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1353/lm.2023.a911451","url":null,"abstract":"Abstract: In the late nineteenth and twentieth centuries, there was widespread concern about the fate of immigrants to the United States. One area of particular concern was mentally ill immigrants, as illustrated in contemporaneous screening procedures, asylum reports, government commissions, popular media, fiction, and scientific studies. This article examines the depiction of one mentally ill immigrant in O. E. Rølvaag's novel Giants in the Earth within the context of these discussions. The novel, published originally in two parts in 1924 and 1925 in Norwegian, was translated in collaboration with the author into English in 1927. While many explanations were posited for rates of mental illness among immigrants to North America in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, Rølvaag presents a more nuanced view which accounts for mental responses to change of climate, environment, and cultural loss.","PeriodicalId":44538,"journal":{"name":"LITERATURE AND MEDICINE","volume":"688 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2023-03-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"135532537","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":"Seeing Horror through the Lens of Health: Embodying Dissociative Identity Disorder in The Babadook","authors":"Paul Mitchell","doi":"10.1353/lm.2023.a911447","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1353/lm.2023.a911447","url":null,"abstract":"Abstract: This essay analyzes the representation of dissociative identity disorder in Jennifer Kent's debut feature, The Babadook (2014). Although the film's exploration of psychological themes such as maternal ambivalence, grief, and repression have already been widely discussed in the critical literature, I argue that such readings tend to mitigate the embodied nature of the suffering that Kent's film depicts. Using Arthur Frank's concept of chaos stories as well as Edward Branigan's work on film narrative, I show how The Babadook provides a valuable, fictional example of how dissociative identity disorder can be depicted in cinematic language. Through Kent's use of internal and external focalization, amongst other filmic techniques, the film promotes an ethic of witnessing whereby spectators can actively see the disorienting impact the protagonist's suffering has on her life. In this way, The Babadook gives health care practitioners insight into the complexity of her subjectivized illness experience.","PeriodicalId":44538,"journal":{"name":"LITERATURE AND MEDICINE","volume":"58 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2023-03-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"135532780","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":"Amidst, By, Near, With: Locating Recovery and Forgetting in the Shadow of COVID","authors":"Hosanna Krienke","doi":"10.1353/lm.2023.a911439","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1353/lm.2023.a911439","url":null,"abstract":"Amidst, By, Near, With:Locating Recovery and Forgetting in the Shadow of COVID Hosanna Krienke (bio) Here are some perhaps too-personal questions to ask yourself: Have you stopped wearing a mask? When did you stop? Do you even remember? When was the first time you forgot to wash your hands as soon as you got home? Do you still hold your breath when a stranger passes too near you on the sidewalk? It has been more than three years since COVID came crashing down on the world. And now, after all this time, we may be wondering what it all meant. When is COVID \"over\"? What precautions do we keep? What have we learned? Will this experience help us face the next pandemic, or will we forget it ever happened? These questions can be painful for several reasons. Of course, for many people, COVID never ended because of the grief for lost loved ones, because of the lingering symptoms of long COVID, because of the constant vulnerability of chronic conditions, or because of the continued inaccessibility of mRNA vaccines and boosters across the globe. Yet I imagine that many of us can acknowledge a change—perhaps not an ending per se—only a subtle letting-down-your-guard sometime between 2020 and now. We did it at different times. We did it in different ways. We chose different risks. COVID isn't really over; yet that live-wire attentiveness felt by whole communities in the early days may feel like another reality. My goal here is not to shake a finger at our complacency but to think more deeply about the present moment. What can this transitional period—precisely when a new normal emerges to replace the old—tell us about the experience of recovery? [End Page 8] In early 2023, the Washington Post ran a series of articles under the headline \"Pandemic: Three Years In.\" I was immediately struck by the word \"in,\" as if we are buried, or mired, or \"in the thick of.\" None of these feels quite right. Yet it also makes me question alternate vocabularies, and so (as one does) I try to envision other options by Googling a list of prepositions. I wonder, are we \"in\" or \"out\" of the pandemic? Are we \"after\" or even \"beyond\"? As I look down the list, it strikes me that perhaps the problem is the fundamental linearity of our most conventional terms, as if illness is a one-way street, or a roadside accident you are supposed to see ahead of you, then inch past, and ultimately leave behind. Yet how can this insistent directionality in our language account for three years of grief and hope, boredom and innovation, abject illness and everyday life? In my own scholarship, I have spent years dwelling on the term convalescence, which describes a period of time between the crisis of illness and the mundane routine of life. To me, the months of COVID restrictions, both self-enforced and mandated, felt like convalescence. My world was small. I taught on Zoom. My dog invited me on walks. The bag of dusty carrots at the bottom of my crisper drawer reassured me that I could eke out a few mo","PeriodicalId":44538,"journal":{"name":"LITERATURE AND MEDICINE","volume":"9 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2023-03-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"135532781","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":"Something Is Wrong","authors":"Rachel Fein-Smolinski","doi":"10.1353/lm.2023.a911441","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1353/lm.2023.a911441","url":null,"abstract":"Something Is Wrong Rachel Fein-Smolinski (bio) \"Relief from pain through palliative artmaking can save us from the discomfort of living with this injustice and violence that we see every day, but it does not treat the basis for the pain. […] Is the artist perhaps unconsciously at first trying to fight inevitable death by stacking up the artworks? Hiding the foregone erasure of the body?\" —Barbara Hammer, The Art of Dying or (Palliative Art Making in the Age of Anxiety) (2018) \"Dr. Bailey: What is the most important step in the treatment process? Anyone? Dr. Avery: Physical Exam. Dr. Bailey: No, no chocolate for you. Dr. Yang: Lab and radiology evaluation. Dr. Bailey: Uh, oh, come on people. Now you're embarrassing me. Dr. Grey: Patient history. Dr. Bailey: Thank you.\" —Grey's Anatomy, Season 6, Episode 15 (2010) Fun fact: Something is wrong, and it has been for a long time. The epigraphs are from Barbara Hammer's final lecture on death, illness, and art as a prolific experimental filmmaker living with cancer, and Dr. Miranda Bailey, a fictional surgeon who values her patients' voices more than any other character in the medical drama Grey's Anatomy. In Hammer's lecture she used the term palliative artmaking to describe her practice. Palliative care is a medical practice focused on comfort, support, and symptom relief as opposed to cure. Reframing art making (and life) with those goals in mind informs how I make work as a chronically ill artist and educator. The many hours I have spent watching Grey's Anatomy—and other sexy, utopian (at least the early seasons) healthcare fantasies—informs this work as well. [End Page 26] Art and medicine are estranged siblings. Photographs are good at decontextualizing their subjects from the world that they exist in. A medical exam room is good at decontextualizing a person from the world they exist in. A person becomes a patient when their first-person experience is translated into third-person narrative. When looking at medical archives, the preservation of the historical context of the experiences of patients is a vital job of archivists and researchers. I collect and make images of the visual codices of illness, and share my own archive of experiences as a sick artist to explore mythologies of recovery. I began visiting medical archives in 2018 while I was working a 9 to 5 job, teaching part time, and unsuccessfully trying to manage worsening chronic pain that I have had since I was a child. I started going to the Archives and Special Collections at SUNY Upstate Medical University Health Sciences Library in the morning before work to photograph objects from their collections and to look through unprocessed negatives, usually large-format portraits of patients. Through this I have found a deep well of documentation of intimate patient experience in a field whose narrative is often told from the perspective of the clinician. I have been hearing the term \"evidence-based\" a lot lately, mostly from my health insu","PeriodicalId":44538,"journal":{"name":"LITERATURE AND MEDICINE","volume":"35 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2023-03-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"135532785","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":"Allegorical Investigations: Autism, Applied Behavioral Analysis, and Medieval Poetry","authors":"Kate Crassons","doi":"10.1353/lm.2023.a911445","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1353/lm.2023.a911445","url":null,"abstract":"Abstract:This essay explores the connections between the modern autism intervention Applied Behavioral Analysis (ABA) and medieval personification allegory to show how literature powerfully enables the work of neurodiversity. Invoking the theory of the language game to investigate the clinical history of ABA, the essay puts the fourteenth-century poet William Langland in dialogue with Ludwig Wittgenstein and Stanley Cavell. I argue that the approach to language emerging from this constellation of voices works as a precise tool for diagnosing the ethical liabilities of ABA. By highlighting the shared interest in a set of animated terms across different historical and disciplinary domains, we can see how allegorical writing becomes an essential resource for exposing how ABA travesties human need and emotion. Working against the ethos of this \"therapeutic\" intervention, Langland, Wittgenstein, and Cavell join with autistic writers in advancing a model of language development based on mutuality, reciprocity, and shared forms of life.","PeriodicalId":44538,"journal":{"name":"LITERATURE AND MEDICINE","volume":"202 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2023-03-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"135532782","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}