A Professor of English at Middle Georgia State University, her specialty is 20th Century American Lit, particularly Postmodernism and Speculative Fiction. She has written, presented, and published a lot of essays and articles with semicolons in the title, like “The Masculinized Female Hero: Punishing Misalignment in Battlestar Galactica and Game of Thrones.” Her current work explores class, capitalism, and biopolitics—the value of human life—in contemporary speculative and science fiction, and her newest book is Bodies for Profit and Power: Science Fiction and Biopolitics
Biopolitics and the Regulation of Women's Bodies in "Black Box," The Handmaid's Tale, and Orphan ... more Biopolitics and the Regulation of Women's Bodies in "Black Box," The Handmaid's Tale, and Orphan Black by Lisa Wenger Bro Power. Control. Immortality. Each achieved through male control of women and women's bodies in recent fiction, film, and television series. Charles Darwin's scientific ideas might have given a modern voice to the ideas spurring biopolitics and biopower; however, the ideas related to women, reproduction, and the control of women's bodies, have existed in some form or other through all patriarchal societies. Furthermore, much like Darwin's own views related to gender, these persistent ideas about women stray far from scientific fact. Reproduction, as Darwin comments, is for the advancement of man who "might by [sexual] selection do something not only for the bodily constitution and frame of his offspring, but for their intellectual and moral qualities" (1981, 403). Darwin's scientific ideas related to sexual and natural selection set up the biopolitical, but it's his own opinions that further entrench commonly held views about women's inferiority.1 In fact, these views coincide with the rise of capitalism; consequently, we see the way that the reinforcement of patriarchal views of women and women's roles is connected to the need for more bodies-human capital-for capitalist production. This entangling of women and women's bodies with traditional, patriarchal
“Jim, there’s something you should know” Ade Nygaard tells Holden over the com, and then a blindi... more “Jim, there’s something you should know” Ade Nygaard tells Holden over the com, and then a blinding flash of light as the watercrawler Canterbury disintegrates on torpedo impact. Off ship investigating a distress call, James Holden and his small crew watch helplessly as a Martian torpedoes score a direct hit in The Expanse pilot “Dulcinea.” Nothing is left; no one lives. But, will anyone really care? The Canterbury is home to all those who didn’t fit anywhere else, whose lives were deemed less valuable, for one reason or another, and who now work a menial job hauling chunks of ice across the Belt to replenish water supplies. After all, The Expanse’s world is one of hierarchies and oppression—what do a few more Belter deaths matter to the inners? But Holden refuses to let the deaths go unnoticed and unpunished, calling for justice when he broadcasts Mars’ senseless destruction of both ship and lives across the Belt. What Holden stirs up are long-smoldering problems related to sovereignty, to capitalism’s corruptive influence on sovereign power, and to the biopolitical. At the heart of The Expanse are questions about just who has power over life and about how the quest for profits and power influence ideas about of life and the value of life.
Monsters of Film, Fiction, and Fable: The Cultural Links between the Human and Inhuman, 2018
It's almost impossible to turn on the television or go to a bookstore without encountering the su... more It's almost impossible to turn on the television or go to a bookstore without encountering the supernatural or the futuristic. While we're well accustomed to the technological skepticism and doubt found in science fiction [s.f.], a transformation has occurred in urban fantasy [u.f]. The monsters formerly relegated to horror are no longer the evil Other, but rather the heroic saviors in u.f. 1 Humanizing the former monsters rewrites the mythology, and as Andrew Schopp notes, the new myth "provides a space in which the audience can. .. experience both sublimated and conscious desires" (1997, 232). 2 In fact, immortality, conjoined with identity retention, is one such desire addressed in much u.f. For society, there is an intense desire for immortality, as well as deep-rooted ideas about identity. Conversely, there is a fear over what either extending life or attaining immortality might cost humans, a fear that permeates many s.f. works. Questioning transhuman ideas, Ronald Cole-Turner asks, "[i]s the enhanced person still the same person?. .. Is the enhanced person still human?. .. If this [evolution into a new species] were to happen, would it amount to a kind of species suicide, the death of human nature. .. as we have always known it?" (2011, 10). What emerges across both genres, then, is an exploration of cultural fears and desires related to immortality with particular focus on the retention or loss of the body, identity, and humanity. Science fiction, as we will see, frequently depicts a grim, dystopian view of the technological extension of life and immortality, both of which frequently come at the expense of the self. Urban fantasy, on the other hand, offers an antidote to the picture s.f. paints. Feeding societal desires, u.f. offers an immortality that retains most pertinent aspects of self. What we see, across the two genres, then, is that u.f. tweaks the
Monsters of Film, Fiction, and Fable: The Cultural Links Between the Human and Inhuman, 2018
In a culture that celebrates each technological advance, one would think there would be no room f... more In a culture that celebrates each technological advance, one would think there would be no room for supernatural creatures that fall outside the technocentric focus. And yet, popular media is overrun with mythological beings. In fact, the fey, or fairies, are one of the beings that now populate the pages of fiction. These are not the fairies of popular conception; they are not cute, tiny, winged female creatures who grant our every wish. Instead, we see more monstrous, human-like fey. These fey are capricious and can just as easily end a life as commit a benevolent deed. While there are similarities, these contemporary fey also are not the same as their original counterparts found in Celtic lore. What we see is a remythologizing of the fey that underpins cultural concerns. Conflated with several traditions, they are even more strongly tied to nature. Consequently, these new fey come to represent a loss our society faces in its ongoing quest for scientific and technological advancement, one that suggests our own need for a closer connection to nature as well as a spiritual and/or religious foundation.
Monsters of Film, Fiction, and Fable: The Cultural Links Between the Human and Inhuman, 2018
Monsters are deeply embedded in our cultural fabric, moving across
epochs from ancient mythology... more Monsters are deeply embedded in our cultural fabric, moving across
epochs from ancient mythology to folk and fairy tales to literature, and
then film and television. The collected essays in this volume will explore
the cultural implications of monsters, particularly those of the 20th and 21st
centuries, delving into the various social, economic, and political issues
that these monsters reflect. Long tied to ideas of the Other, the inhuman
have represented societal fears for centuries. In fact, the dawning
imperialist age saw a resurgence of these gothic horrors, particularly in
fiction such as Robert Louis Stevenson’s The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll
and Mr. Hyde and Bram Stoker’s Dracula. Civilized Victorian society
reinvented the monstrous myths, projecting their fears about those they
were colonizing onto the monsters that populated the pages. This
resurgence expanded during Modernist times with the advent of radio,
film, and television. Society quaked in terror over the reported aliens in
War of the Worlds and Count Dracula floated eerily across the screen—
just as ideas related to eugenics and racial purity permeated the Western
world. The monster fiction and media of the postmodernist eras still reflect
societal unease when it comes to issues of race, gender, sexuality, and
other cultural issues. Yet, a transformation has occurred in contemporary
works, a cultural shift, so to speak. In his essay “Monster Theory (Seven
Theses),” Jeffrey Jerome Cohen says, “[t]he monster is . . . an embodiment
of certain cultural moments—of a time, a feeling, and a place. The
monster’s body quite literally incorporates fear, desire, anxiety, and
fantasy . . . giving them life and an uncanny independence. The monstrous
body is pure culture” (1996, 4). What we see as we move across the 20th
and 21st centuries is a reclamation of the monstrous and an exploration of,
as posthuman critics posit, the “us” in “them.” Rather than provoking only
fear, many of these monsters now inspire sympathy, forcing audiences to
question ideas related to the different social, political, and economic issues
contemporary monsters represent as well as ideas about human nature.
Journal of the Georgia Philological Association, 2017
Much has been written, both pro and con, regarding the empowered characters of two popular series... more Much has been written, both pro and con, regarding the empowered characters of two popular series, Kara "Starbuck" Thrace, the fearless Viper pilot in the recent Battlestar Galactica remake, and Brienne of Tarth, the knighthood desiring warrior of George R.R. Martin's Songs of Fire and Ice and its television counterpart, Game of Thrones. For some, these women are the embodiment of female power and agency in a male-dominated world. 1 For others, Starbuck and Brienne of Tarth indicate the way women are forced into certain roles to fit into said male-dominated world. 2 At the height of the latter argument lies Judith Butler's ideas regarding gender performance, and claims abound that women of fiction and film such as Starbuck and Brienne are exemplifying gender mimicry, enacting masculinity their only recourse for fitting into the world around them. 3 Perhaps the masculine attributes they exhibit are performative, perhaps they actually are a natural fit, or perhaps it is a combination of both. What is more interesting, I believe, is how both shows explore the way that such boundary-crossing women are forced into the traditional, male-aligned standards of the hero, and then rejected for upholding those same, masculine ideals. Both Starbuck and Brienne exemplify traditional, heroic ideals, yet when neither can conform to a binary gender system, these characters reject each for the masculine traits she displays, highlighting the rigid, cultural roles and codes still in place for women. What both series underscore is how "traditional" definitions of man/masculinity and woman/femininity are almost impossible to escape as well as the way that ideas about traditional masculinity are linked to the ideal of the hero. As Judith Butler concludes in Gender Trouble, biological sex and gender are not tied together, and gender is not binary-one is not either man or woman. 4 Furthermore,
Sarah Addison Allen's magical realist works, Garden Spells and The Sugar Queen, both show how the... more Sarah Addison Allen's magical realist works, Garden Spells and The Sugar Queen, both show how the social construction of identity has detrimental effects on characters. When it comes to magical realism, critics frequently explore the "decolonizing and "demarginalizing" aspects of the narrative style, with much attention on postcolonial and Western, multiethnic works. 1 Critiques of Western, white magical realist works, however, are still few and far between. Yet, marginalization frequently is at the core of these texts, and, as Theo L. D'haen says, "[i]t is precisely the notion of the ex-centric, in the sense of speaking from the margin, from a place 'other' than 'the' or 'a' center, that seems to me an essential feature of. .. magic realism" (194). In both novels, central characters are outside the "privileged center." In Garden Spells, Sydney Waverley has spent her whole life fighting against her family and her hometown of Bascom, North Carolina. She rejects her family's hereditary, magical abilities because they signal her out as an oddity amongst the upper class citizens with whom she longs to belong. Further setting her apart is the town's knowledge of her mother, a woman who lived a wild life, abandoned her children, and died when Sydney was only six years old-a woman the town believes she is exactly like. Sydney internalizes these negative views of class and gender that the upper class projects on her, allowing those views to shape her identity and lower her self-worth as she runs from one dangerous situation to the next. While Sugar Queen's Josey Cirrini appears to be a member of Bald Slope, North Carolina's upper class, like Sydney, Josey also is marginalized. According to the town's upper class, Josey is the "fat," unattractive daughter of the wealthy and "great" Italian immigrant Marco Cirrini, the man who single-handedly saved the town and made it prosperous again. The derogatory feedback she receives excludes her from upper class society, while her family's money excludes her from middle and lower class society. Additionally, this class and gender-related feedback has a detrimental impact on Josey's identity, her only security found in isolation, devouring junk food. Class and gender expectations, expectations set in place before either woman was born, trap both women, leaving them unsure of who they really are or where they belong.
Critics have pointed out that ghosts allow us to "successfully broaden and deepen our world and p... more Critics have pointed out that ghosts allow us to "successfully broaden and deepen our world and perhaps open ourselves to a greater reality" (Walker 6). Lois Parkinson Zamora also asserts that ghosts often serve as "guides," and they are, along with much magical realism, "particularly well-suited to enlarging and enriching western ontological understanding," for their "counterrealistic conventions" reject "the binarisms, rationalisms, and reductive materialisms of Western ontological understanding" (119). 1 As such guides, the specters in magical realist
And thought and faith and speculation on the future and
the past, the desirable and the ill, wil... more And thought and faith and speculation on the future and
the past, the desirable and the ill, will not be dead, but
will be following as servants in the train of Life, not
clutching at its throat with the fingers of dogma; while on
will sweep the army, ever faster, through the slaveless
kingdom that, completely and imposingly is, is of this
world—B. Russell Herts
Native mythology and folklore is often linked to magical realist texts. Critics
such as Wendy B. Faris and David Mikics both discuss the significant role these aspects
play in the genre. They attribute many magical elements to indigenous or primitive
peoples’ belief systems and/or ideologies. As David Danow notes, those who read
magical realism are thus “rewarded with a perspective on the world that still includes
much that has elsewhere been lost” (67). Three such magical realist texts, Alejo
Carpentier’s The Kingdom of This World, Lewis Nordan’s Wolf Whistle, and Sean
Stewart’s Mockingbird, invite readers to explore such a lost belief system—that of
Voodoo. What the texts uncover is not only past applications of Voodoo beliefs, but also
working applications within present-day society. In fact, through the exploration of these
three texts, a rarely touched on aspect of mythology and magical realism is evident—that
of the effect of primitive religions on non-native characters. In all three texts, white
characters embrace, to varying extents, the Voodoo religion. Chronologically, the three
texts are set in radically different time frames, portraying an evolution in white Voodoo
practices. Through this evolution, we see considerable differences in the way white
characters acquire Voodoo beliefs and practices, as well as in the portrayal of racial
characteristics among Voodooists.
Bodies for Profit and Power: Science Fiction and Biopolitics, 2023
Early dystopian science fiction like George Orwell's 1984 or Thea von Harbou's Metropolis show us... more Early dystopian science fiction like George Orwell's 1984 or Thea von Harbou's Metropolis show us bleak worlds where capitalism has no boundaries and has corrupted sovereign powers, exploiting the lower classes and benefiting only a few at the top. Political laws and policies related to human life--or the biopolitical--devalue that life, making humanity little more than expendable "machines" producing for capitalism, and capitalism's focus on progress has made it a central concern in much of science fiction. Covering science fiction from the early 1900s to present, this book examines the portrayal of capitalism and the biopolitical in works like Brave New World and The Expanse., among many others.
Monsters of Film, Fiction, and Fable: The Cultural Links between the Human and Inhuman, 2018
Monsters are a part of every society, and ours is no exception. They are deeply embedded in our h... more Monsters are a part of every society, and ours is no exception. They are deeply embedded in our history, our mythos, and our culture. However, treating them as simply a facet of childrens stories or escapist entertainment belittles their importance. When examined closely, we see that monsters have always represented the things we fear: that which is different, which we cant understand, which is dangerous, which is Other. But in many ways, monsters also represent our growing awareness of ourselves and our changing place in a continually shrinking world. Contemporary portrayals of the monstrous often have less to do with what we fear in others than with what we fear about ourselves, what we fear we might be capable of. The nineteen essays in this volume explore the place and function of the monstrous in a variety of mediastories and novels like Baums Oz books or Gibsons Neuromancer; television series and feature films like The Walking Dead or Edward Scissorhands; and myths and legends like Beowulf and The Loch Ness Monsterin order to provide a closer understanding of not just who we are and who we have been, but also who we believe we can befor better or worse.
The focus of my dissertation is recent U.S. magical realism, more precisely, the cultural-ideolog... more The focus of my dissertation is recent U.S. magical realism, more precisely, the cultural-ideological role the magic plays as a technique or effect fiction writers use to describe particular transformations characters undergo. Since critics have repeatedly identified the magic within the broader zone of postmodern and postcolonial writing, a first step will involve reexamining the complex relationships of magical realism with the postmodern and the postcolonial in American and international context. Coming to terms with the dynamic of the three terms and related literary-cultural practices will help understanding why and how American writers of the past decades have been using magical realism to suggest how human beings go through a restructuring process wherein beliefs they hold are reassessed and reformed, that is, how the magic acts as a cultural agent. Indeed, as my project will show, not only does the magic open up new possibilities and worlds for the characters; it also allows...
Biopolitics and the Regulation of Women's Bodies in "Black Box," The Handmaid's Tale, and Orphan ... more Biopolitics and the Regulation of Women's Bodies in "Black Box," The Handmaid's Tale, and Orphan Black by Lisa Wenger Bro Power. Control. Immortality. Each achieved through male control of women and women's bodies in recent fiction, film, and television series. Charles Darwin's scientific ideas might have given a modern voice to the ideas spurring biopolitics and biopower; however, the ideas related to women, reproduction, and the control of women's bodies, have existed in some form or other through all patriarchal societies. Furthermore, much like Darwin's own views related to gender, these persistent ideas about women stray far from scientific fact. Reproduction, as Darwin comments, is for the advancement of man who "might by [sexual] selection do something not only for the bodily constitution and frame of his offspring, but for their intellectual and moral qualities" (1981, 403). Darwin's scientific ideas related to sexual and natural selection set up the biopolitical, but it's his own opinions that further entrench commonly held views about women's inferiority.1 In fact, these views coincide with the rise of capitalism; consequently, we see the way that the reinforcement of patriarchal views of women and women's roles is connected to the need for more bodies-human capital-for capitalist production. This entangling of women and women's bodies with traditional, patriarchal
“Jim, there’s something you should know” Ade Nygaard tells Holden over the com, and then a blindi... more “Jim, there’s something you should know” Ade Nygaard tells Holden over the com, and then a blinding flash of light as the watercrawler Canterbury disintegrates on torpedo impact. Off ship investigating a distress call, James Holden and his small crew watch helplessly as a Martian torpedoes score a direct hit in The Expanse pilot “Dulcinea.” Nothing is left; no one lives. But, will anyone really care? The Canterbury is home to all those who didn’t fit anywhere else, whose lives were deemed less valuable, for one reason or another, and who now work a menial job hauling chunks of ice across the Belt to replenish water supplies. After all, The Expanse’s world is one of hierarchies and oppression—what do a few more Belter deaths matter to the inners? But Holden refuses to let the deaths go unnoticed and unpunished, calling for justice when he broadcasts Mars’ senseless destruction of both ship and lives across the Belt. What Holden stirs up are long-smoldering problems related to sovereignty, to capitalism’s corruptive influence on sovereign power, and to the biopolitical. At the heart of The Expanse are questions about just who has power over life and about how the quest for profits and power influence ideas about of life and the value of life.
Monsters of Film, Fiction, and Fable: The Cultural Links between the Human and Inhuman, 2018
It's almost impossible to turn on the television or go to a bookstore without encountering the su... more It's almost impossible to turn on the television or go to a bookstore without encountering the supernatural or the futuristic. While we're well accustomed to the technological skepticism and doubt found in science fiction [s.f.], a transformation has occurred in urban fantasy [u.f]. The monsters formerly relegated to horror are no longer the evil Other, but rather the heroic saviors in u.f. 1 Humanizing the former monsters rewrites the mythology, and as Andrew Schopp notes, the new myth "provides a space in which the audience can. .. experience both sublimated and conscious desires" (1997, 232). 2 In fact, immortality, conjoined with identity retention, is one such desire addressed in much u.f. For society, there is an intense desire for immortality, as well as deep-rooted ideas about identity. Conversely, there is a fear over what either extending life or attaining immortality might cost humans, a fear that permeates many s.f. works. Questioning transhuman ideas, Ronald Cole-Turner asks, "[i]s the enhanced person still the same person?. .. Is the enhanced person still human?. .. If this [evolution into a new species] were to happen, would it amount to a kind of species suicide, the death of human nature. .. as we have always known it?" (2011, 10). What emerges across both genres, then, is an exploration of cultural fears and desires related to immortality with particular focus on the retention or loss of the body, identity, and humanity. Science fiction, as we will see, frequently depicts a grim, dystopian view of the technological extension of life and immortality, both of which frequently come at the expense of the self. Urban fantasy, on the other hand, offers an antidote to the picture s.f. paints. Feeding societal desires, u.f. offers an immortality that retains most pertinent aspects of self. What we see, across the two genres, then, is that u.f. tweaks the
Monsters of Film, Fiction, and Fable: The Cultural Links Between the Human and Inhuman, 2018
In a culture that celebrates each technological advance, one would think there would be no room f... more In a culture that celebrates each technological advance, one would think there would be no room for supernatural creatures that fall outside the technocentric focus. And yet, popular media is overrun with mythological beings. In fact, the fey, or fairies, are one of the beings that now populate the pages of fiction. These are not the fairies of popular conception; they are not cute, tiny, winged female creatures who grant our every wish. Instead, we see more monstrous, human-like fey. These fey are capricious and can just as easily end a life as commit a benevolent deed. While there are similarities, these contemporary fey also are not the same as their original counterparts found in Celtic lore. What we see is a remythologizing of the fey that underpins cultural concerns. Conflated with several traditions, they are even more strongly tied to nature. Consequently, these new fey come to represent a loss our society faces in its ongoing quest for scientific and technological advancement, one that suggests our own need for a closer connection to nature as well as a spiritual and/or religious foundation.
Monsters of Film, Fiction, and Fable: The Cultural Links Between the Human and Inhuman, 2018
Monsters are deeply embedded in our cultural fabric, moving across
epochs from ancient mythology... more Monsters are deeply embedded in our cultural fabric, moving across
epochs from ancient mythology to folk and fairy tales to literature, and
then film and television. The collected essays in this volume will explore
the cultural implications of monsters, particularly those of the 20th and 21st
centuries, delving into the various social, economic, and political issues
that these monsters reflect. Long tied to ideas of the Other, the inhuman
have represented societal fears for centuries. In fact, the dawning
imperialist age saw a resurgence of these gothic horrors, particularly in
fiction such as Robert Louis Stevenson’s The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll
and Mr. Hyde and Bram Stoker’s Dracula. Civilized Victorian society
reinvented the monstrous myths, projecting their fears about those they
were colonizing onto the monsters that populated the pages. This
resurgence expanded during Modernist times with the advent of radio,
film, and television. Society quaked in terror over the reported aliens in
War of the Worlds and Count Dracula floated eerily across the screen—
just as ideas related to eugenics and racial purity permeated the Western
world. The monster fiction and media of the postmodernist eras still reflect
societal unease when it comes to issues of race, gender, sexuality, and
other cultural issues. Yet, a transformation has occurred in contemporary
works, a cultural shift, so to speak. In his essay “Monster Theory (Seven
Theses),” Jeffrey Jerome Cohen says, “[t]he monster is . . . an embodiment
of certain cultural moments—of a time, a feeling, and a place. The
monster’s body quite literally incorporates fear, desire, anxiety, and
fantasy . . . giving them life and an uncanny independence. The monstrous
body is pure culture” (1996, 4). What we see as we move across the 20th
and 21st centuries is a reclamation of the monstrous and an exploration of,
as posthuman critics posit, the “us” in “them.” Rather than provoking only
fear, many of these monsters now inspire sympathy, forcing audiences to
question ideas related to the different social, political, and economic issues
contemporary monsters represent as well as ideas about human nature.
Journal of the Georgia Philological Association, 2017
Much has been written, both pro and con, regarding the empowered characters of two popular series... more Much has been written, both pro and con, regarding the empowered characters of two popular series, Kara "Starbuck" Thrace, the fearless Viper pilot in the recent Battlestar Galactica remake, and Brienne of Tarth, the knighthood desiring warrior of George R.R. Martin's Songs of Fire and Ice and its television counterpart, Game of Thrones. For some, these women are the embodiment of female power and agency in a male-dominated world. 1 For others, Starbuck and Brienne of Tarth indicate the way women are forced into certain roles to fit into said male-dominated world. 2 At the height of the latter argument lies Judith Butler's ideas regarding gender performance, and claims abound that women of fiction and film such as Starbuck and Brienne are exemplifying gender mimicry, enacting masculinity their only recourse for fitting into the world around them. 3 Perhaps the masculine attributes they exhibit are performative, perhaps they actually are a natural fit, or perhaps it is a combination of both. What is more interesting, I believe, is how both shows explore the way that such boundary-crossing women are forced into the traditional, male-aligned standards of the hero, and then rejected for upholding those same, masculine ideals. Both Starbuck and Brienne exemplify traditional, heroic ideals, yet when neither can conform to a binary gender system, these characters reject each for the masculine traits she displays, highlighting the rigid, cultural roles and codes still in place for women. What both series underscore is how "traditional" definitions of man/masculinity and woman/femininity are almost impossible to escape as well as the way that ideas about traditional masculinity are linked to the ideal of the hero. As Judith Butler concludes in Gender Trouble, biological sex and gender are not tied together, and gender is not binary-one is not either man or woman. 4 Furthermore,
Sarah Addison Allen's magical realist works, Garden Spells and The Sugar Queen, both show how the... more Sarah Addison Allen's magical realist works, Garden Spells and The Sugar Queen, both show how the social construction of identity has detrimental effects on characters. When it comes to magical realism, critics frequently explore the "decolonizing and "demarginalizing" aspects of the narrative style, with much attention on postcolonial and Western, multiethnic works. 1 Critiques of Western, white magical realist works, however, are still few and far between. Yet, marginalization frequently is at the core of these texts, and, as Theo L. D'haen says, "[i]t is precisely the notion of the ex-centric, in the sense of speaking from the margin, from a place 'other' than 'the' or 'a' center, that seems to me an essential feature of. .. magic realism" (194). In both novels, central characters are outside the "privileged center." In Garden Spells, Sydney Waverley has spent her whole life fighting against her family and her hometown of Bascom, North Carolina. She rejects her family's hereditary, magical abilities because they signal her out as an oddity amongst the upper class citizens with whom she longs to belong. Further setting her apart is the town's knowledge of her mother, a woman who lived a wild life, abandoned her children, and died when Sydney was only six years old-a woman the town believes she is exactly like. Sydney internalizes these negative views of class and gender that the upper class projects on her, allowing those views to shape her identity and lower her self-worth as she runs from one dangerous situation to the next. While Sugar Queen's Josey Cirrini appears to be a member of Bald Slope, North Carolina's upper class, like Sydney, Josey also is marginalized. According to the town's upper class, Josey is the "fat," unattractive daughter of the wealthy and "great" Italian immigrant Marco Cirrini, the man who single-handedly saved the town and made it prosperous again. The derogatory feedback she receives excludes her from upper class society, while her family's money excludes her from middle and lower class society. Additionally, this class and gender-related feedback has a detrimental impact on Josey's identity, her only security found in isolation, devouring junk food. Class and gender expectations, expectations set in place before either woman was born, trap both women, leaving them unsure of who they really are or where they belong.
Critics have pointed out that ghosts allow us to "successfully broaden and deepen our world and p... more Critics have pointed out that ghosts allow us to "successfully broaden and deepen our world and perhaps open ourselves to a greater reality" (Walker 6). Lois Parkinson Zamora also asserts that ghosts often serve as "guides," and they are, along with much magical realism, "particularly well-suited to enlarging and enriching western ontological understanding," for their "counterrealistic conventions" reject "the binarisms, rationalisms, and reductive materialisms of Western ontological understanding" (119). 1 As such guides, the specters in magical realist
And thought and faith and speculation on the future and
the past, the desirable and the ill, wil... more And thought and faith and speculation on the future and
the past, the desirable and the ill, will not be dead, but
will be following as servants in the train of Life, not
clutching at its throat with the fingers of dogma; while on
will sweep the army, ever faster, through the slaveless
kingdom that, completely and imposingly is, is of this
world—B. Russell Herts
Native mythology and folklore is often linked to magical realist texts. Critics
such as Wendy B. Faris and David Mikics both discuss the significant role these aspects
play in the genre. They attribute many magical elements to indigenous or primitive
peoples’ belief systems and/or ideologies. As David Danow notes, those who read
magical realism are thus “rewarded with a perspective on the world that still includes
much that has elsewhere been lost” (67). Three such magical realist texts, Alejo
Carpentier’s The Kingdom of This World, Lewis Nordan’s Wolf Whistle, and Sean
Stewart’s Mockingbird, invite readers to explore such a lost belief system—that of
Voodoo. What the texts uncover is not only past applications of Voodoo beliefs, but also
working applications within present-day society. In fact, through the exploration of these
three texts, a rarely touched on aspect of mythology and magical realism is evident—that
of the effect of primitive religions on non-native characters. In all three texts, white
characters embrace, to varying extents, the Voodoo religion. Chronologically, the three
texts are set in radically different time frames, portraying an evolution in white Voodoo
practices. Through this evolution, we see considerable differences in the way white
characters acquire Voodoo beliefs and practices, as well as in the portrayal of racial
characteristics among Voodooists.
Bodies for Profit and Power: Science Fiction and Biopolitics, 2023
Early dystopian science fiction like George Orwell's 1984 or Thea von Harbou's Metropolis show us... more Early dystopian science fiction like George Orwell's 1984 or Thea von Harbou's Metropolis show us bleak worlds where capitalism has no boundaries and has corrupted sovereign powers, exploiting the lower classes and benefiting only a few at the top. Political laws and policies related to human life--or the biopolitical--devalue that life, making humanity little more than expendable "machines" producing for capitalism, and capitalism's focus on progress has made it a central concern in much of science fiction. Covering science fiction from the early 1900s to present, this book examines the portrayal of capitalism and the biopolitical in works like Brave New World and The Expanse., among many others.
Monsters of Film, Fiction, and Fable: The Cultural Links between the Human and Inhuman, 2018
Monsters are a part of every society, and ours is no exception. They are deeply embedded in our h... more Monsters are a part of every society, and ours is no exception. They are deeply embedded in our history, our mythos, and our culture. However, treating them as simply a facet of childrens stories or escapist entertainment belittles their importance. When examined closely, we see that monsters have always represented the things we fear: that which is different, which we cant understand, which is dangerous, which is Other. But in many ways, monsters also represent our growing awareness of ourselves and our changing place in a continually shrinking world. Contemporary portrayals of the monstrous often have less to do with what we fear in others than with what we fear about ourselves, what we fear we might be capable of. The nineteen essays in this volume explore the place and function of the monstrous in a variety of mediastories and novels like Baums Oz books or Gibsons Neuromancer; television series and feature films like The Walking Dead or Edward Scissorhands; and myths and legends like Beowulf and The Loch Ness Monsterin order to provide a closer understanding of not just who we are and who we have been, but also who we believe we can befor better or worse.
The focus of my dissertation is recent U.S. magical realism, more precisely, the cultural-ideolog... more The focus of my dissertation is recent U.S. magical realism, more precisely, the cultural-ideological role the magic plays as a technique or effect fiction writers use to describe particular transformations characters undergo. Since critics have repeatedly identified the magic within the broader zone of postmodern and postcolonial writing, a first step will involve reexamining the complex relationships of magical realism with the postmodern and the postcolonial in American and international context. Coming to terms with the dynamic of the three terms and related literary-cultural practices will help understanding why and how American writers of the past decades have been using magical realism to suggest how human beings go through a restructuring process wherein beliefs they hold are reassessed and reformed, that is, how the magic acts as a cultural agent. Indeed, as my project will show, not only does the magic open up new possibilities and worlds for the characters; it also allows...
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Papers by Lisa Wenger Bro
epochs from ancient mythology to folk and fairy tales to literature, and
then film and television. The collected essays in this volume will explore
the cultural implications of monsters, particularly those of the 20th and 21st
centuries, delving into the various social, economic, and political issues
that these monsters reflect. Long tied to ideas of the Other, the inhuman
have represented societal fears for centuries. In fact, the dawning
imperialist age saw a resurgence of these gothic horrors, particularly in
fiction such as Robert Louis Stevenson’s The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll
and Mr. Hyde and Bram Stoker’s Dracula. Civilized Victorian society
reinvented the monstrous myths, projecting their fears about those they
were colonizing onto the monsters that populated the pages. This
resurgence expanded during Modernist times with the advent of radio,
film, and television. Society quaked in terror over the reported aliens in
War of the Worlds and Count Dracula floated eerily across the screen—
just as ideas related to eugenics and racial purity permeated the Western
world. The monster fiction and media of the postmodernist eras still reflect
societal unease when it comes to issues of race, gender, sexuality, and
other cultural issues. Yet, a transformation has occurred in contemporary
works, a cultural shift, so to speak. In his essay “Monster Theory (Seven
Theses),” Jeffrey Jerome Cohen says, “[t]he monster is . . . an embodiment
of certain cultural moments—of a time, a feeling, and a place. The
monster’s body quite literally incorporates fear, desire, anxiety, and
fantasy . . . giving them life and an uncanny independence. The monstrous
body is pure culture” (1996, 4). What we see as we move across the 20th
and 21st centuries is a reclamation of the monstrous and an exploration of,
as posthuman critics posit, the “us” in “them.” Rather than provoking only
fear, many of these monsters now inspire sympathy, forcing audiences to
question ideas related to the different social, political, and economic issues
contemporary monsters represent as well as ideas about human nature.
the past, the desirable and the ill, will not be dead, but
will be following as servants in the train of Life, not
clutching at its throat with the fingers of dogma; while on
will sweep the army, ever faster, through the slaveless
kingdom that, completely and imposingly is, is of this
world—B. Russell Herts
Native mythology and folklore is often linked to magical realist texts. Critics
such as Wendy B. Faris and David Mikics both discuss the significant role these aspects
play in the genre. They attribute many magical elements to indigenous or primitive
peoples’ belief systems and/or ideologies. As David Danow notes, those who read
magical realism are thus “rewarded with a perspective on the world that still includes
much that has elsewhere been lost” (67). Three such magical realist texts, Alejo
Carpentier’s The Kingdom of This World, Lewis Nordan’s Wolf Whistle, and Sean
Stewart’s Mockingbird, invite readers to explore such a lost belief system—that of
Voodoo. What the texts uncover is not only past applications of Voodoo beliefs, but also
working applications within present-day society. In fact, through the exploration of these
three texts, a rarely touched on aspect of mythology and magical realism is evident—that
of the effect of primitive religions on non-native characters. In all three texts, white
characters embrace, to varying extents, the Voodoo religion. Chronologically, the three
texts are set in radically different time frames, portraying an evolution in white Voodoo
practices. Through this evolution, we see considerable differences in the way white
characters acquire Voodoo beliefs and practices, as well as in the portrayal of racial
characteristics among Voodooists.
Books by Lisa Wenger Bro
epochs from ancient mythology to folk and fairy tales to literature, and
then film and television. The collected essays in this volume will explore
the cultural implications of monsters, particularly those of the 20th and 21st
centuries, delving into the various social, economic, and political issues
that these monsters reflect. Long tied to ideas of the Other, the inhuman
have represented societal fears for centuries. In fact, the dawning
imperialist age saw a resurgence of these gothic horrors, particularly in
fiction such as Robert Louis Stevenson’s The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll
and Mr. Hyde and Bram Stoker’s Dracula. Civilized Victorian society
reinvented the monstrous myths, projecting their fears about those they
were colonizing onto the monsters that populated the pages. This
resurgence expanded during Modernist times with the advent of radio,
film, and television. Society quaked in terror over the reported aliens in
War of the Worlds and Count Dracula floated eerily across the screen—
just as ideas related to eugenics and racial purity permeated the Western
world. The monster fiction and media of the postmodernist eras still reflect
societal unease when it comes to issues of race, gender, sexuality, and
other cultural issues. Yet, a transformation has occurred in contemporary
works, a cultural shift, so to speak. In his essay “Monster Theory (Seven
Theses),” Jeffrey Jerome Cohen says, “[t]he monster is . . . an embodiment
of certain cultural moments—of a time, a feeling, and a place. The
monster’s body quite literally incorporates fear, desire, anxiety, and
fantasy . . . giving them life and an uncanny independence. The monstrous
body is pure culture” (1996, 4). What we see as we move across the 20th
and 21st centuries is a reclamation of the monstrous and an exploration of,
as posthuman critics posit, the “us” in “them.” Rather than provoking only
fear, many of these monsters now inspire sympathy, forcing audiences to
question ideas related to the different social, political, and economic issues
contemporary monsters represent as well as ideas about human nature.
the past, the desirable and the ill, will not be dead, but
will be following as servants in the train of Life, not
clutching at its throat with the fingers of dogma; while on
will sweep the army, ever faster, through the slaveless
kingdom that, completely and imposingly is, is of this
world—B. Russell Herts
Native mythology and folklore is often linked to magical realist texts. Critics
such as Wendy B. Faris and David Mikics both discuss the significant role these aspects
play in the genre. They attribute many magical elements to indigenous or primitive
peoples’ belief systems and/or ideologies. As David Danow notes, those who read
magical realism are thus “rewarded with a perspective on the world that still includes
much that has elsewhere been lost” (67). Three such magical realist texts, Alejo
Carpentier’s The Kingdom of This World, Lewis Nordan’s Wolf Whistle, and Sean
Stewart’s Mockingbird, invite readers to explore such a lost belief system—that of
Voodoo. What the texts uncover is not only past applications of Voodoo beliefs, but also
working applications within present-day society. In fact, through the exploration of these
three texts, a rarely touched on aspect of mythology and magical realism is evident—that
of the effect of primitive religions on non-native characters. In all three texts, white
characters embrace, to varying extents, the Voodoo religion. Chronologically, the three
texts are set in radically different time frames, portraying an evolution in white Voodoo
practices. Through this evolution, we see considerable differences in the way white
characters acquire Voodoo beliefs and practices, as well as in the portrayal of racial
characteristics among Voodooists.