Search Results (21)

Curiosity lies at the heart of the sixteenth-century miscellany books, which served as precursors to the essay genre. Among them, a truly exceptional piece stands out: La silva curiosa by Julián de Medrano, published in 1583. This work pushes the boundaries of curiosity to such an extent that it challenges its classification within the genre of miscellany owing to its unconventional and strange nature. Julián de Medrano, the author of this outlandish work, transforms himself into a character and protagonist, defining himself as an “extremely curious” individual. During his extensive travels, he curates a collection of “curious” epitaphs associated with often comical and peculiar deaths, spanning Latin, Spanish, Portuguese, French, Galician, and Italian. In addition to this, La silva curiosa includes an autobiographical narrative, a precursor to the Gothic genre, in which Medrano recounts unsettling encounters with black magic. This work offers a multifaceted exploration of curiosity, taking it to the extreme by narrating the author’s life experiences driven by a relentless pursuit of the curious, which is synonymous with the bizarre, extraordinary, marvelous, and unexpected. La silva curiosa emerges from a time marked by an almost nihilistic void, as the full force of the Baroque era has not yet arrived, and the ideals of humanism are fading away. It stands as a unique document that unveils an unexpected facet of the concept of curiosity within Spanish Renaissance culture. Full article

Australian author Garth Nix has set six critically acclaimed and internationally bestselling novels and several shorter works in and around the fictional world of the Old Kingdom, beginning with Sabriel (1995) and continuing most recently with Terciel & Elinor (2021). This loose series of texts, with its bellringing protagonists, is the prime contributor to his reputation as an author of high fantasy fiction, although he is also marketed as and known for writing science fiction and other related subgenres. Most notably, his work prominently features elements of the Gothic. This aspect of his work and the ways in which it creates tension within the “high” fantasy genre becomes increasingly apparent when examined through the lens of sound—a critical method that has potential for charting the entanglements of this genre with other popular genres of fiction. Full article

Can we think of the legendary Wandering Jew as a monster? The figure does not easily fit the common definition of a monster and yet, the Wandering Jew is extraordinary. In the medieval and early modern sources of the legend, the Wandering Jew, who once sinned against Christ and is therefore doomed to be an immortal eyewitness to the Passion, serves as a model for the faithful. In his 1796 gothic novel, The Monk, Matthew Lewis creates a new strand of the Wandering Jew tradition, a gothic Wandering Jew, a being transformed from wonder to horror through association with centuries of antisemitic accusations against Jews as agents of conspiracy, ritual murder, nefarious magic, and disease. This essay argues that a variation on the representation of the gothic Wandering Jew, which began with Coleridge’s Rime of the Ancient Mariner, further adapts the legend to make the Wanderer not a sign of redemption, but the monstrous cause of catastrophe not only for himself, but for those he encounters. This article, the first scholarly examination of John Blackburn’s 1972 Wandering Jew novel, Devil Daddy, situates it within the strand of the legend that represents the Wandering Jew as a monstrous source of destruction. Blackburn’s novel, written during a time of global concern over the development of biological weapons of mass destruction, portrays the Wandering Jew’s curse as a source of manmade global environmental catastrophe. In this way, the sin of the monstrous Wandering Jew becomes one not against Christ, but against humankind. Even as Devil Daddy explicitly references the horrors of the Holocaust, this representation of a monstrous Wandering Jew haunts the text, undermining its sympathetic representation of Jewish suffering. Full article

This article uses the English Gothic’s eighteenth-century dismantling of male lineage and Enlightenment certainty in Horace Walpole’s The Castle Otranto as a lens for understanding the twenty-first-century commercial popularity of director Mike Flanagan’s Gothic films, particularly Doctor Sleep. Building on Stephen King’s 2013 novel and Stanley Kubrick’s 1980 film The Shining, Flanagan’s Doctor Sleep establishes a new lineage of male writers who value how the Gothic traditions of irrational emotion and doubt can inspire new realms of knowledge to lessen psychological suffering caused by traumatic lineage. By “traumatic lineage” I mean the threat and violence some find necessary to maintain the patrilineal claim that it is “naturally” the only way to organize society. Like Walpole’s mythopoeic Gothic novel, Flanagan’s Gothic films demonstrate how patrilineal lineage damages other men, not just women; thus, Flanagan’s films offer psychological workbooks for practicing a type of reparative masculinity that involves exposure-exercises of cognitive behavior therapy (Doctor Sleep’s “boxing” intrusive, traumatic memories), male communities of care, and interdependent empathy. I support this argument by closely reading how Flanagan’s filmic tools of domestic metaphor, uncanny casting, and repurposed sets from Kubrick’s The Shining not only tell how to exorcise the inherited stills of the Overlook Hotel but also show viewers how to do so. We experience Dan Torrance’s reparative masculinity in real-time, communally sharing and recasting Dan’s horrific images of 40 years ago, but we now relate to them in psychologically helpful ways that enable community. In this way, I illustrate and encourage future study of how Gothic texts not only point to marginalized, repressed problems, but more importantly, how they help us relate differently to a traumatic past and innovate strategies for immediate relief from inherited suffering. Full article

This article reads Karl Marx’s Capital (volume 1, 1867) as the Bildungsroman of a congenital criminal: its eponymous character, Capital. Following Friedrich Engels’s The Condition of the Working Class in England (1845), Marx detects and dissects capitalism’s crimes. Capital has been called Marx’s ‘Victorian novel’ and compared to English realism’s triple-deckers. Yet his indispensable informants include factory inspectors whose reports, according to Fredric Jameson, provide testimony beyond anything realism can represent. How, then, does Marx’s apparently realist aesthetic convey Capital’s criminal deeds and criminogenic drive? To address this matter, the article examines the Gothicism of Marx’s realism. It highlights his development of Engels’s Gothic realism, demonstrates how Capital begins in media res—its first sentence presenting an immense, monstrous collection of evidence of Capital’s cannibalism—and links this opening crime scene to Marx’s portrayal of the 1863 case of Mary Anne Walkley. Murdered in her workplace, Walkley inhabits an underworld overpopulated by fellow workers killed by wage-labour. The article argues that, because actuality under the rule of Capital is structurally and monstrously criminal, Marx’s Gothic constitutes a realistic medium to represent criminal monsters and structures. Full article

By modernizing Gothic tropes within a narrative exploring the trauma of intimate partner violence, the latest film adaptation of The Invisible Man from Leigh Whannel draws attention to the invisibility of the psychological and societal horrors of abuse. With a blend of psychological and physical horror, this feminist reinterpretation of H.G. Wells’ classic novel navigates intersecting genres of horror to facilitate its emotional impact. In a close reading of the cinematic techniques and plot through a Gothic lens, Whannell’s version of ‘The Invisible Man’ reveals its successful reflection of the dangers of technology-enabled control’s capacity to reinforce societal compliance in gender-based violence. Full article

This article merges evaluations of Black life through the Southern Gothic and the intersection of Black studies to conceptualize the “Black Gothic”. The Black Gothic conceives of a future that requires closely examining the past and the present primarily through a Southern Gothic and Black horror lens. Much of Black Gothic’s analytics depended upon the framework outlined within Afro-pessimism and the subprime; however, it differs in its pursuits of reparations as a way forward. The Black Gothic focuses on intermingling the lived anti-Black experiences of Black existence with supernatural gothic traditions, forcing readers to determine which experience is more horrific. The Black Gothic functions as a mode of interaction with the Southern Gothic and the Black horror visual genres; its definition invokes literary and visual modes and genres that expand the many depictions of Black life in America when it is constantly threatened by elimination and devaluation. The Black horror genre seeks to expose the “afterlife of slavery” through actual and speculative means. Meanwhile, Southern Gothic’s ability to cross temporal bounds makes these the ideal genres to present the enslaved’s repressed and debted history. Southern Gothic replaced ruined gothic castles with plantations; Black Gothic replaced plantations and the monolithic “South” with northern sundown towns, redlining, and subprime mortgages. The Black Gothic’s methodology uses a systemic fiscal devaluation of Black ownership, self, and property through the subprime. In company with Fred Moten’s conceptualization of the subprime, the Black Gothic views being marked as “subprime” as an antecedent to predatory housing practices; it is instead the moment that captured Africans experience social death. Using Toni Morrison’s Beloved and Misha Green’s HBO adaptation of Matt Ruff’s novel Lovecraft Country, I define the Black Gothic and then outline its capacity to function as an analytic to further both the Southern Gothic and Black horror genres. The Black Gothic transcends gothic traditions by including films and texts that are not categorically gothic or horror and exposes the horrific and gothic modes primarily exhibited through the treatment of the descendants of enslaved Africans. Comprehensively, this article argues for a space to view the future re-evaluation of Black life through speculative and practical reparations. Full article

This article analyzes the hysterical narration styles of two major characters in Richard Marsh’s The Beetle (1897) to reveal the ways late-Victorian discourses attempted (and often failed) to distance particular social anxieties from their modern origins. Attending to previous literary criticism regarding socially Othered groups of this period—racialized foreigners, New Women, and the urban poor—as well as (pseudo)scientific studies from the 1870s–80s, this reading notes the ways that Victorian cultural biases surrounding race, gender, and class could be projected onto Gothicized, Orientalized figures in literary texts. Pairing a postcolonial examination of the novel’s spatial and temporal elements with a psychoanalytic reading of this text, I argue that the slowing pace in Robert Holt’s narrative and the compulsive repetition of Marjorie Lindon’s both reflect the novel’s disruption of space and time and structurally parallel the symptoms of a “hallucinatory hysterical attack,” as conceived by Josef Breuer and Sigmund Freud. Together, these hysterical narratives reveal the failure of particular cultural and scientific discourses to completely bury Victorian anxieties about modernity into different, explicitly Othered spaces and times by collapsing both space and time in the narration of psychic trauma. Full article

This article examines the Gothic trope of White racial transformation in Robert Montgomery Bird’s Sheppard Lee (1836) and Jordan Peele’s Get Out (2017). These seemingly disparate texts both feature White men who turn Black via supernatural body hopping or experimental surgery. In these texts, Blackness acts as an emotional and material resource for White characters that perversely bolsters Whiteness by escaping it. Little-known outside of antebellum specialisms, Sheppard Lee enhances our understanding of race in the Gothic by considering why Whiteness may be rejected in the early nation. Written in the context of blackface minstrelsy, the novel transforms downwardly mobile Sheppard into an enslaved man as a respite from the pressures of economic success. Get Out builds on its nineteenth-century precursors by showing the Black body as a desired and necessary vessel for the “post-racial” White American self, who swaps their physical Whiteness for Blackness to extend or enhance their own life, turning Black men into extensions and enforcers of White middle-class culture. In uniting these texts through the lens of critical Whiteness studies, this article argues that White racial transformation is a long-held tradition in the US Gothic that not only expresses White desires and anxieties, but itself transforms in each specific historical racial context. Full article

African American science fiction writer Octavia E. Butler’s works have attracted a great deal of academic interest since the 1990s onwards. Clay’s Ark (1984), however, has not gained as much scholarly attention as some of her other novels, and the centrality of Gothic aspects, in particular those related to body horror, has not been addressed. By focusing on how these aspects inform the structure, setting, and characters’ actions and relationships in this novel about an extraterrestrial infection that threatens and changes humanity, this article demonstrates how Butler employs and adapts strategies and conventions of Gothic horror and body horror in order to explore various attitudes towards difference and transformation, paralleling these with a particular brand of antiblack racism growing out of American slavery. Although the 1980s are already receding into American history, and a few aspects of the imagined twenty-first century in this novel may feel dated today (while many are uncomfortably close to home), Clay’s Ark is a prime example of how aspects of popular culture genres and media—such as science fiction, the Gothic, and horror films—can be employed in an American novel to worry, question, and destabilize ingrained historical and cultural patterns. Full article

Music videos of the MTV era often use gothic visual signifiers as decorative elements or creative expressions of the musician’s star persona or latest record. But several video clips from the early 1980s adapt the figure of gothic monstrosity, and in particular, the images and stories of the undead or beastly Other, in ways that dramatize the music video’s evolving aesthetic, commercial, and technological character and its unpredictable relation to Gothic. In this article, I look closely at the narrative elements of two important configurations of gothic-themed video clips: “Don’t Go” (1982) by Yazoo, “Telefone (Long Distance Love Affair)” (1983) by Sheena Easton, and “Mary Jane’s Last Dance” (1993) by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, which creatively adapt textual elements of Mary Shelley’s 1818 novel Frankenstein and its various film adaptations and parodies and its cultural significance in the modern Western imaginary; and “Thriller” (1983) by Michael Jackson and “Heads Will Roll” (2009) by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, which likewise adapt and reimagine aspects of John Landis’s 1981 horror comedy film An American Werewolf in London and its afterlife in the modern media ecosystem. These videos, I argue, trouble conventional understandings of the practice of adaptation as a one-to-one line of inheritance between source material and destination text. In so doing, furthermore, these clips amplify and elaborate certain socio-cultural anxieties about gender and race, personal and professional identity and autonomy, and technological innovation and automation that animate their source materials. Full article

This feminist semiotic study explores the folkloric imaginary of the jinn in the context of children’s and young adults’ Arab Gothic literature. Across the Middle East, the jinn is a common trope in literature, folklore and oral storytelling who, in diegetic terms, can manifest as the Gothic figure of an aging female, deranged older woman or succubus (known as sa’lawwa in Arabic). In this study, a novel feminist semiotic framework is developed to explore the extent to which the Gothic female succubus either haunts or liberates Arab girls’ coming-of-age fictions. This issue is addressed via a feminist semiotic reading of the narratives of Middle Eastern woman author @Ranoy7, exploring the appeal of her scary stories presented on YouTube. Findings reveal tacit fears, ambivalences and tensions embodied within the Arab Gothic sign of the aging female succubus or jinn. Overall, the research develops feminist insights into the semiotic motif of the female jinn and its role in constituting Arab females as misogynistic gendered sign objects in the context of the social media story explored. Full article

The gothic genre in Latin American literature has been the object of fashionable interest in recent decades and seems to absorb all the elements of the politically correct agenda; however, in the current trend of absolute presentism that seems regular in the critics, it is not taken into account that there exists a previous tradition more or less connected with its European sources but in search of its own cultural character. I would like to comment on some specifically gothic novels published in Argentina between the 1980s and the 1990s, as well as a recent one by the prolific writer César Aira. Prins can be analyzed as an ambiguous culmination of the gothic tendency, as well as a symptom of the disorientation of a genre that threatens to become a label as broad as it is empty. Full article

Jeanette Winterson’s magical realist love stories, such as The Passion, have been read by some critics in terms of a tendency to idealise romance as a transformative passion that transcends social structures. In this article, I propose that Winterson’s recent gothic novel, The Daylight Gate, critically revises a set of Romantic themes first broached in The Passion, exposing and interrogating the fantasy scenario at the centre of romantic love. This narrative about magic and the devil explores the ambivalence of passion as possession—diabolical and contractual—before using this to critique the desire for transcendence implied by “undying love”. Metaphysics becomes a metaphor for metapsychology, where the Romantic motif of undying love as connected to fatal desire is complicated by a traversal of the fantasy of the union of two immortal souls. These revisions have the effect of reversing the implications of Winterson’s earlier treatment of romantic love, turning it back from the personal towards engagement with the political. Full article

This article describes a Smart Heritage computational system that automatically produces a wide range of design proposals for new timber Gothic churches based on an intelligent interpretation of an architectural database of historic churches. The system enlists the software ‘Houdini’ and a digitally archived dataset of 19th Century timber Gothic churches. The cases presented here focus primarily on timber churches built in Wellington, New Zealand. Through a process of analysis and deconstruction of these historic churches into their characteristic architectural components, spatial organisation and geometric relationships, the system assembles them into novel designs based on high-level design parameters. This paper details this computational system, its development, its operation and its outputs. The role of the system that has been developed is two-fold. One is designing in an architectural heritage context, and one is as an aid to historical architectural investigations, or what can be called digital forensics. The particular outputs are automatically generated hybrid churches that capture the historical design values and complexities of Gothic inspired churches in New Zealand. However, the broader applications are as an investigative tool for historians, and as an objective generative tool for those involved in heritage reconstruction. Full article