Journal articles on the topic 'Canadian poetry (English) – 21st century'

AbstractA socially stratified sample—the Toronto English Corpus—together with the construct of apparent time (with speakers aged 10–90 years) reveal that certain features are declining, including future will, deontic have got to, possessive have got, intensifier very, and the sentence tag you know. On the other hand, some features are on the rise, including future going to, deontic have to, possessive have, intensifiers really and so, and sentences tags such as whatever, so, and stuff like that. The younger generation is pushing these changes forward more rapidly. While some developments date back hundreds of years in the history of English, they are not particular to Canada, and are consistent with research on other English corpora. Other changes appear to be progressing in a unique way in Canada, including deontic and possessive have. I argue that the broader socio-historical context is a critical factor: geographic and economic mobility as well as changes in communication technology may explain the rapid acceleration of certain types of linguistic change.

This article examines the extent to which the competencies of the 21st century learner are reflected in the learning outcomes within the English language arts curriculum standards documents for the Canadian provinces. Manifest summative content analysis was used to code learning outcomes in accordance with themes derived from the competencies of 21st century learners. For all provinces, there were few learning outcomes that required students to use digital resources to access information or create knowledge / solutions; there were no learning outcomes related to competencies in the context of core subjects or using social media to communicate and learn. Espoused learning pedagogies need to be galvanized into English language arts curriculum standards that are consistent with 21st century and digital literacy learning competencies.

The article is devoted to the study of emotiveness of English divergent and convergent poetic texts. Emotiveness is regarded as a category of the poetic text that is formally represented by emotives (verbal means that name, express, or describe emotions). Emotive units combine within the poem creating the dominant emotive image that accompanies the central concept of the poetic text. The way the author processes and then implements his / her emotional images in the poetic text predetermines the type of poetry (according to R. Tsur) as convergent or divergent. The convergent poetry complies with the rules of traditional poetry writing (that include meter and rhythm, rhyme, etc.) while divergent poetry associates with automatic writing. The former is marked by the aesthetic design, presence of aesthetic feelings or so-called “metamorphic passions” (D. Miall). The latter contains immediate or “raw” feelings of the author, in other words, feelings that he experiences at the moment of writing. Analysis of the poems of the late 18th — early 21st century has revealed that the convergent thinking is more typical of classical poetry (for example, of the period of Romance). The genre system destruction and appearance of new trends in arts have brought forth new techniques of imagery formation. The 20th century experimental poetry becomes less convergent and more biphasic which presupposes implementation of both thinking types in poetic texts writing. Thus, the divergent thinking is called forth to shatter stale images and break them to fragments out of which new fresh images can be created due to convergence techniques. Such transformations within poetic texts have also influenced their emotive side which is closely connected with conceptual nodes. The implementation of divergent, convergent, or biphasic thinking shapes the emotive focus of a poetic piece, which may become implicit, explicit, blurred, sharp, etc.

Canadian novelist, poet and essayist Tim Bowling is one of the most prestigious authors in 21st-century Canadian letters. A prolific and versatile author, he has published twelve poetry collections, four novels, a memoir and a work of creative non-fiction so far. This paper looks at two of his novels, "The Bone Sharps" (2007) and "The Tinsmith" (2012), tools of knowledge that explore not just human consciousness as the lens through which we make sense of reality, including our selves, but also history, memory and identity, epistemology and ethics. A fragment of the world and a piece of human consciousness: this is what both novels are.

Critical cosmopolitan citizenship education is a transformational approach to education that empowers students to become global citizens through active involvement in the local, national and global communities while seeking to build a better world. This study’s objective was to inquire about how Ontario’s official curriculum guides educators to prepare secondary students (Canadian born and those new to Canada) to become effective citizens of the 21st century. A critical discourse analysis was conducted to investigate the Ontario Ministry of Education’s (OME) approach to citizenship education within the frameworks of critical pedagogy and cosmopolitan citizenship education that encourage educators and students to respect human rights and become active citizens who strive towards peace and sustainability. The discourse analysis included two curriculum documents: (1) The Ontario curriculum grades 9 and 10: Canadian and World Studies (OME, 2018), which addresses civic education, and (2) The Ontario Curriculum Grades 9 to 12: English as a Second Language and English Literacy Development (OME, 2007), which prepares newcomers to improve their English proficiency. The findings confirm that the discourse produced by these documents aims to develop students’ understanding of the global world, but does not necessarily prepare them to act for the betterment of the planet. The findings further indicate that citizenship education in the 21st century should dissociate from a nation-centered approach and focus on preparing students for global citizenry.

This paper describes some of the routes taken by Neapolitan poetry during the 21st century, paying particular attention to the most recognizable literary experiences and to authors whose works have been relevant for the evolution of the local poetic language. The paper traces a linguistic and formal path of the main tendencies of Neapolitan poetry: starting from the persistence of dialect, it continues by addressing experimentalism in Italian poetry written in Naples. Then, it focuses on the junction of performance and spoken strategies with long poems and narrative compositions, which I compare to the current directions of contemporary lyric poetry. The purpose of this paper is to offer a preliminary recognition of what happened in Neapolitan poetry from 2000 to 2020, overcoming the critical boycott of an area which has always expressed an outstanding literary and cultural vivacity. Pur senza pretendere di restituirne un quadro completo, il contributo intende descrivere alcuni percorsi della poesia del Duemila prodotta a Napoli. L’attenzione è rivolta alle scritture maggiormente riconoscibili e ad alcuni casi singoli di autrici e autori significativi per l’evoluzione della lingua poetica (non solo) locale. In particolare, l’articolo traccia un itinerario formale e linguistico delle tendenze più marcate della poesia partenopea: partendo dalla resistenza della linea dialettale, si passa allo sperimentalismo nella poesia in lingua italiana; la performatività e le possibilità esecutive del testo poetico si intrecciano poi con la forma-poemetto e le non poche narrazioni in versi, alle quali si contrappone un esame degli orientamenti della produzione lirica contemporanea. L’obiettivo è quello di offrire una prima ricognizione di quanto si è mosso nel primo XXI secolo in area napoletana, superando in questo modo un certo ostracismo critico nei confronti di una zona più che mai in fermento sul fronte poetico e letterario. English title Beyond Marechiare. First notes on Neapolitan poetry of the 21st century

Grounded in poststructuralist understandings of language and identity and Davies and Harré’s (1990) positioning theory, this paper explores one South Korean student’s educational experiences in her English as a Second Language (ESL) classroom, specifically related to subject positions and identity construction pertaining to language. Using a researcher diary, semi-structured interviews, and dialogue journals with one Korean university student, this paper reports findings from a qualitative study. The findings suggest a critical awareness of the effects of positioning on language learning experiences. The results indicate that although a student may exercise agency to take up or resist subject positions, this positioning is part of a greater discourse, generally outside the control of the student that constructs identity through particular social experiences. The results of this study will be of interest to researchers in the areas of language identity, second language learning, and higher education in the 21st century. Keywords: power; positioning; subject positions; identity; English language; discourse; international students

This paper examines the poems of Franny Choi and Victoria Chang within the context of Asian American poetry, poetics, and criticism. It demonstrates how Choi and Chang’s work engage in a destabilization of binaries in order to rewrite and re-construct Asian American identity. A close reading of Choi’s “Chatroulette” from her collection, Soft Science, and Chang’s “Home” from her collection, Obit, reveals disruptions of five binary divisions, broadly identified as “high” poetic form and “low” poetic form, Eastern and Western, English and non-English, embodiment and disembodiment, and past and present. This paper argues that the deconstructions of these five binaries represent a search for belonging in the context of Asian American identity, as it is an identity that itself transverses the boundaries of “Asian” and “American.” This is supported by scholars of Asian American literature such as Michael Leong, Brigitte Wallinger-Schorn, and Zhou Xiaojing, who investigate how Asian American poets navigate alterity and cultural hybridity through innovation. It concludes by examining questions of home and belonging, theorizing that, for Asian American poets, reinventing language in a way that transgresses binaries and dichotomies allows for the construction of a new “home” that accepts the indeterminacies of identity, life, and death rather than resisting them.

When a Canadian exchange student returns home from a semester abroad in the capital city of China, she might tell her friends that she had Peking duck every day, but she would never, as a 21st-century liberal arts student, say that she stayed in Peking for a semester. Rather, she would say Beijing, as would most English speakers in the present day. But such discrepancies between English transliterations of Chinese words are far from uncommon. Is it the Nanking Massacre or the Nanjing Massacre? Who is the author ofTao Te Ching: Lao-Tzu or Laozi? What, then, is theDaodejing? This paper will focus on the English representation of Mandarin Chinese phonology, particularly the consonant sounds. The inconsistency of English transliteration of Mandarin is caused by historical exchanges and encounters between the British and the Chinese and a lack of a monolithic standardization of Mandarin. Paradoxically, while these transliterations attempt to unify and standardize themselves and the representation of Mandarin sounds, they simultaneously represent the concept of a diverse Mandarin.

NOTICIAS / NEWS (“Transfer”, 2015) 1) CONGRESOS / CONFERENCES: 1. First Forlì International Workshop – Corpus-based Interpreting Studies: The State of the Art University of Bologna at Forlì, 7-8 May 2015. http://eventi.sslmit.unibo.it/cis1/<file:///owa/redir.aspx 2. 5th IATIS Conference – Innovation Paths in Translation and Intercultural Studies, Belo Horizonte, Brazil, 7-10 July 2015. www.iatis.org/index.php/iatis-belo-horizonte-conference/itemlist/category/168-call-for-communication-proposals-within-the-general-conference 3. POETRY/TRANSLATION/FILM – POÉSIE/TRADUCTION/FILM PoeTransFi, Paul Valéry University, Montpellier, France, 18-19 June 2015. http://pays-anglophones.upv.univ-montp3.fr/?page_id=1795 4. 6th International Maastricht-Lodz Duo Colloquium on “Translation and Meaning”, Maastricht School of Translation & Interpre-ting, Zuyd University of Applied Sciences, Maastricht, Netherlands 21-22 May 2015. www.translation-and-meaning.nl 5. MiddleWOmen. Networking and cultural mediation with and between women (1850-1950). Centre for Reception Studies (CERES), HERA Travelling TexTs project and Huygens ING KU Leuven campus Brussels 7-8 May 2015. www.receptionstudies.be 6. 5th International Symposium: Respeaking, Live Subtitling and Accessibility, Università degli Studi Internazionali di Roma, Italy, 12 June 2015. www.unint.eu/it/component/content/article/8-pagina/494-respeaking-live-subtitling-and-accessibility.html 7. Conference on Law, Translation and Culture (LTC5) and Legal and Institutional Translation Seminar, University of Geneva, Switzerland 24-26 June 2015. www.unige.ch/traduction-interpretation/recherches/groupes/transius/conference2015_en.html 8. 6th International Conference Media for All – Audiovisual Translation and Media Accessibility: Global Challenges, University of Western Sydney, Australia, 16-18 September 2015. http://uws.edu.au/mediaforall 9. Translation in Exile, Vrije Universiteit Brussel, 10-11 December 2015. www.cliv.be 10. Literary Translation as Creation, Université d’Avignon et des Pays de Vaucluse, 20-21 May 2015. laurence.belingard@univ-avignon.fr marie-francoise.sanconie@univ-avignon.fr 11. 4th International Conference on Language, Medias and Culture (ICLMC 2015) 9-10 April 2015. Kyoto, Japan, www.iclmc.org 12. 9th International Colloquium on Translation Studies in Portugal – Translation & Revolution, Universidade Católica Portuguesa, Lisbon, 22-23 October 2015. ix.translation.revolution@gmail.com 13. Translation as Collaboration: Translaboration?, University of Westminster, London, 18 June 2015 Contact: Alexa Alfer (A.Alfer01@westminster.ac.uk), Steven Cranfield (S.Cranfield@westminster.ac.uk), Paresh Kathrani (P.Kathrani@westminster.ac.uk) 14. Translation/Interpreting Teaching and the Bologna Process: Pathways between Unity and Diversity, FTSK Germersheim, Germany 27–29 November 2015. www.fb06.uni-mainz.de/did2015/index_ENG.php 15. Atlantic Communities: Translation, Mobility, Hospitality, University of Vigo, Spain, 17-18 September 2015. http://translating.hypotheses.org/551 16. Exploring the Literary World III: Transgression and Translation in Literature Chulalongkorn University, Bangkok, Thailand 23-24 April 2015. www.arts.chula.ac.th/~complit/complite/?q=conference 17. Authenticity and Imitation in Translation and Culture, University of Social Sciences and Humanities, Warsaw, Poland, 7 – 9 May 2015. www.swps.pl/english-version/news/conferences/12164-authenticity-and-imitation-in-translation-and-culture 18. Translation in Transition, Barnard College, New York City, USA 1-2 May 2015. barnard.edu/translation/translation-in-transition 19. First Forlì International Workshop – Corpus-based Interpreting Studies: The state of the art, University of Bologna at Forlì, Italy, 7-8 May 2015. http://eventi.sslmit.unibo.it/cis1 20. Translation and Meaning. The Lodz Session of the 6th International Maastricht-Lodz Duo Colloquium, University of Lodz, Poland, 18-19 September 2015. http://duo.uni.lodz.pl 21. TAO-CAT-2015, Université Catholique de l’Ouest, Angers, France 28-30 May 2015. www.tao2015.org/home-new 22. English Language and Literary Studies (ELLS 2015), Chulalongkorn University, Bangkok, Thailand, 3-4 August 2015. http://ells2015.com 23. Talking to the World 2: The Relevance of Translation and Interpreting – Past, Present and Future, Newcastle University, UK, 10-11 September 2015. www.ncl.ac.uk/sml/study/postgraduate/T&I/2015conference/main.htm 24. 6th International Symposium for Young Researchers in Translation, Interpreting, Intercultural Studies and East Asian Studies Universitat Autònoma de Barcelona, Spain, 3 July 2015. www.fti.uab.es/departament/simposi-2015/en/index.htm 25. Portsmouth Translation Conference: Border Crossing or Border Creation?, University of Portsmouth, UK, 14 November 2015. www.port.ac.uk/translation/events/conference 26. New Perspectives in Assessment in Translation Training: Bridging the Gap between Academic and Professional Assessment, University of Westminster, London, UK, 4 September 2015. www.westminster.ac.uk/news-and-events/events/humanities/archive/2014/mlc/new-perspectives-in-assessment-in-translation-training-bridging-the-gap-between-academic-and-professional-assessment 27. III Congreso Internacional de Neología en las Lenguas Románicas University of Salamanca, 22-24 October 2015. http://diarium.usal.es/cineo2015 28. Some Holmes and Popovič in all of us? The Low Countries and the Nitra Schools in the 21st century, Constantine the Philosopher University, Nitra, Slovakia, 8-10 October 2015. Contact: igor.tyss@gmail.com 29. The Cultural Politics of Translation, Cairo, Egypt, 27-29 October 2015. https://culturalpoliticstranslation2015.wordpress.com 30. Journée d’étude « le(s) figure(s) du traducteur », Mount Royal University, Calgary, Canada, 30 April 2015. http://mrujs.mtroyal.ca/index.php/cf/index 31. Mediterranean Editors and Translators Annual Meeting —Versatility and readiness for new challenges, University of Coimbra, Portugal, 29-31 October 2015. www.metmeetings.org/en/preliminary-program:722 32. Lengua, Literatura y Traducción “liLETRAd”, University of Seville, Spain, 7-8 July 2015. http://congreso.us.es/liletrad. 33. Meta: Translators' Journal is celebrating its 60th anniversary in 2015! For the occasion, an anniversary colloquium will be held on August 19th to 21st, 2015 at the Université de Montréal (Montréal, Canada). Colloquium for the 60th Anniversary of META – 1955-2015: Les horizons de la traduction: retour vers le futur. Translation’s horizons: back to the future. Los horizontes de la traducción: regreso al futuro, August 19-21, 2015 – Université de Montréal. Please send your proposal to this address: meta60e@gmail.com, to the attention of Georges L. Bastin or Eve-Marie Gendron-Pontbrian 2) CURSOS DE POSGRADO / MASTERS: 1. Legal Translation, Master universitario di II livello in Traduzione Giuridica University of Trieste, Italy. http://apps.units.it/Sitedirectory/InformazioniSpecificheCdS/Default.aspx?cdsid=10374&ordinamento=2012&sede=1&int=web&lingua=15 2. Traducción Especializada, Universitat Oberta de Catalunya (UOC), Spain. http://estudios.uoc.edu/es/masters-posgrados-especializaciones/master/artes-humanidades/traduccion-especializada/presentacion 3. Online course: La Traducción Audiovisual y el Aprendizaje de Lenguas Extranjeras, Universidad Nacional de Educación a Distancia, Madrid, 1st December 2014 to 31st May 2015. http://formacionpermanente.uned.es/tp_actividad/idactividad/7385 https://canal.uned.es/mmobj/index/id/21174 Contact: Noa Talaván (ntalavan@flog.uned.es), José Javier Ávila (javila@flog.uned.es) 4. Online course: Audio Description and Its Use in the Foreign Language Classroom, UNED, Madrid, Spain http://formacionpermanente.uned.es/tp_actividad/idactividad/7492 5. Online course: Curso de Formación de Profesorado, La Traducción Audiovisual y el Aprendizaje de Lenguas Extranjeras UNED, Madrid, Spain. http://formacionpermanente.uned.es/tp_actividad/idactividad/7385 6. EST Training Seminar for Translation Teachers, Kraków, Poland 29 June – 3 July 2015. www.est-translationstudies.org/events/2015_seminar_teachers/index.html 7. Train the Trainer -Teaching MT: EAMT-funded Workshop, Dublin City University, 30 April- 1 May 2015. https://cttsdcu.wordpress.com/eamt-workshop-on-teaching-mt-to-translator-trainers-30-april-1-may 3) CURSOS DE VERANO / SUMMER COURSES: 1. 2015 Nida School of Translation Studies, Leading Edges in Translation: World Literature and Performativity, San Pellegrino University Foundation campus, Misano Adriatico, Italy, 18-29 may 2015. http://nsts.fusp.it/Nida-Schools/NSTS-2015 2. EMUNI Translation Studies Doctoral and Teacher Training Summer School, University of Turku, Finland, 1-12 June 2015. www.utu.fi/en/units/hum/units/languages/EASS/Pages/home.aspx 3. Chinese-English Translation and Interpretation, School of Translation and Interpretation, University of Ottawa, Canada, 13th July – 7th August 7 2015. http://arts.uottawa.ca/translation/summer-programs 4. Summer Program in Translation Pedagogy, University of Ottawa 13 July – 7 August 2015. http://arts.uottawa.ca/translation/summer-programs 4) LIBROS / BOOKS: 1. Audio Description: New Perspectives Illustrated, Edited by Anna Maszerowska, Anna Matamala and Pilar Orero, John Benjamins, 2014. https://benjamins.com/#catalog/books/btl.112/main 2. Call for papers: Translation Studies in Africa and beyond: Reconsidering the Postcolony, Editors: J Marais & AE Feinauer Contacts: Kobus Marais (jmarais@ufs.ac.za) or Ilse Feinauer (aef@sun.ac.za). 4. Measuring live subtitling quality: Results from the second sampling exercise, Ofcom, UK. http://stakeholders.ofcom.org.uk/consultations/subtitling/sampling-results-2 5. A Training Handbook for Legal and Court Interpreters in Australia by Mary Vasilakakos, ISBN 978-0-9925873-0-7, Publisher: Language Experts Pty Ltd. www.interpreterrevalidationtraining.com www.languageexperts.com.au 6. Call for papers: Opera and Translation: Eastern and Western Perspectives, Edited by Adriana Serban and Kelly Kar Yue Chan http://pays-anglophones.upv.univ-montp3.fr/?page_id=1908 7. The Known Unknowns of Translation Studies, Edited by Elke Brems, Reine Meylaerts and Luc van Doorslaer, Amsterdam/Philadelphia: John Benjamins, 2014. https://benjamins.com/#catalog/books/bct.69/main 8. Translating the Voices of Theory/ La traduction des voi de la théorie Edited by Isabelle Génin and Ida Klitgård, 2014. www.hf.uio.no/ilos/english/research/groups/Voice-in-Translation/ 9. Authorial and Editorial Voices in Translation 1 - Collaborative Relationships between Authors, Translators, and Performers, Eds. Hanne Jansen and Anna Wegener, 2014. http://editionsquebecoisesdeloeuvre.ca/data/documents/AEVA-Flyer-1-190895-Vita-Traductiva-Vol-2-Flyer-EN-100413.pdf 10. Authorial and Editorial Voices in Translation 2 - Editorial and Publishing Practices, Eds. Hanne Jansen and Anna Wegener, 2014. www.editionsquebecoisesdeloeuvre.ca/accueil 11. Call for papers: Achieving Consilience. Translation Theories and Practice. https://cfpachievingconsilience.wordpress.com 12. Framing the Interpreter. Towards a visual perspective. Anxo Fernández-Ocampo & Michaela Wolf (eds.), 2014, London: Routledge. http://routledge-ny.com/books/details/9780415712743 13. Multilingual Information Management: Information, Technology and Translators, Ximo Granell, 2014. http://store.elsevier.com/Multilingual-Information-Management/Ximo-Granell-/isbn-9781843347712/ 14. Writing and Translating Francophone Discourse: Africa, The Caribbean, Diaspora, Paul F. Bandia (ed.), 2014, Amsterdam, Rodopi www.brill.com/products/book/writing-and-translating-francophone-discourse 15. Call for papers (collective volumen): Translation studies in Africa and beyond: Reconsidering the postcolony www.facebook.com/notes/mona-baker/translation-studies-in-africa-and-beyond-reconsidering-the-postcolony/743564399051495 16. Audiovisual Translation in the Digital Age - The Italian Fansubbing Phenomenon, By Serenella Massidda, Palgrave Connect, 2015. www.palgrave.com/page/detail/audiovisual-translation-in-the-digital-age-serenella-massidda/?k=9781137470362 17. Video: First International SOS-VICS Conference - Building communication bridges in gender violence, University of Vigo, Spain 25-26 September 2014. http://cuautla.uvigo.es/CONSOS/ 18. Camps, Assumpta. Traducción y recepción de la literatura italiana, Publicacions i Edicions UB, 2014. ISBN: 978-84-475-3776-1. 19. Camps, Assumpta. Italia en la prensa periódica durante el franquismo, Publicacions i Edicions UB, 2014. ISBN: 978-84-475-3753-2. 5) REVISTAS / JOURNALS: Call for papers: “Altre Modernità – Rivista di studi letterarie e culturali” Special Issue: Ideological Manipulation in Audiovisual Translation, Contact: irene.ranzato@uniroma.it. http://riviste.unimi.it/index.php/AMonline/announcement/view/381 2. Call for papers: “Between, Journal of the Italian Association of Comparative Literature”. Special issue on censorship and self-censorship. http://ojs.unica.it/index.php/between/pages/view/CFP9_censura_auto-censura 3. Open access journal, “Hieronymus, A Journal of Translation Studies and Terminology”, Croatia. www.ffzg.unizg.hr/hieronymus 4. “DIE SCHNAKE. Zeitschrift für Sprachkritik, Satire, Literatur”, Number 39+40, Kleines ABC des Literaturübersetzens. www.rainer-kohlmayer.de 5. Call for papers: “MonTI” 8 (2016) - Economic, Financial and Business Translation: from Theory to Training and Professional Practice. http://dti.ua.es/es/monti-english/monti-authors.html daniel.gallego@ua.es 6. Call for papers: “LINGUISTICA ANTVERPIENSIA”, NEW SERIES -Themes in Translation Studies (15/2016). Interpreting in Conflict Situations and in Conflict Zones throughout History. https://lans.ua.ac.be/index.php/LANS-TTS/announcement 7. Call for papers: “CULTUS: The Journal of Intercultural Mediation and Communication” (8/2016). The Intercultural Question and the Interpreting Professions. www.cultusjournal.com 8. Call for papers: “The Journal of Specialised Translation” Non-thematic issue, Issue 26, July 2016. www.jostrans.org 9. “TranscUlturAl: A journal of Translation and Culture Studies”, Special issue Translating Street Art. http://ejournals.library.ualberta.ca/index.php/TC/issue/view/1634 10. “Przekładaniec 28: Audiodeskrypcja [Audio Description]”, edited by Anna Jankowska and Agnieszka Szarkowska. All papers are published in Polish, with English abstracts. www.ejournals.eu/Przekladaniec/zakladka/66/ 11. Call for papers: “Lingvisticæ Investigationes”, Special issue on Spanish Phraseology: Varieties and Variations. http://dti.ua.es/es/documentos/li-call-for-papers-spanish-phraseology-varieties-and-variations.pdf Further details: Pedro.mogorron@ua.es; xblancoe@gmail.com 13. Call for papers: “Revista de Lenguas para Fines Específicos”, Special issue on The Translation of Advertising. Contact: Laura Cruz (lcruz@dis.ulpgc.es). Deadline: 20th July 2015. www.webs.ulpgc.es/lfe 14. “The AALITRA Review”. www.nla.gov.au/openpublish/index.php/ALLITRA 15. “Current Trends in Translation Teaching and Learning E” www.cttl.org/cttl-e-2014.html 16. Call for papers: “Current Trends in Translation Teaching and Learning E”. www.cttl.org 18. Call for papers: “Translation and Translanguaging in Multilingual Contexts”, Volume 1, Number 2, 2015 Deadline: 10-Jan-2015. https://benjamins.com/#catalog/journals/ttmc/main 19. Call for book reviews: “TRANS. Revista de Traductología,” vol.19, 2015. Deadline: Friday, 30th January 2015. www.trans.uma.es trans@uma.es 20. Call for papers: “a journal of literature, culture and literary Translation”. Special volume – Utopia and Political Theology Today Deadline: 15th January 2015. Contact: sic.journal.contact@gmail.com https://owl.english.purdue.edu/owl/resource/747/01 21. “trans-kom”. www.trans-kom.eu 22. “Linguistica Antverpiensia” NS-TTS 13/2014: Multilingualism at the cinema and on stage: A translation perspective, Edited by Reine Meylaerts and Adriana Şerban. https://lans-tts.uantwerpen.be/index.php/LANS-TTS/issue/current 23. Call for papers: 5th issue (2015) of “Estudios de Traducción”, Deadline: 20 February 2015. www.ucm.es/iulmyt/revista 24. Call for papers: “Journal of Translation Studies” - special issue on Translator & Interpreter Education in East Asia. KATS (Korean Association of Translation Studies), www.kats.or.kr (Go to 'English' page). Contact: Won Jun Nam (wonjun_nam@daum.net, wjnam@hufs.ac.kr). 25. “The Journal of Specialised Translation”, 23, January 2015. www.jostrans.org 26. Call for papers: “TranscUlturAl: A Journal of Translation and Cultural Studies”. Deadline: 15 March 2015. http://ejournals.library.ualberta.ca/index.php/TC/announcement 27. “New Voices in Translation Studies”, Issue 11 (Fall 2014). www.iatis.org/index.php/publications/new-voices-in-translation-studies/item/1034-issue11-2014 28. “The Interpreter and Translator Trainer”, 8:3 (2014). Special issue: Dialogue Interpreting in practice: bridging the gap between empirical research and interpreter education E. Davitti and S. Pasquandrea (eds.) www.tandfonline.com/toc/ritt20/current#.VLQHuyvF-So 6) WEBS DE INTERÉS / WEBSITES OF INTEREST: 1. Support Spanish interpreters to secure the right to translation and interpreting in criminal proceedings: www.change.org/p/pablo-casado-retiren-el-proyecto-de-ley-org%C3%A1nica-que-modifica-la-lecrim

The Refugee Tales project holds a distinctive place amongst 20th and 21st century responses to Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales. The project comprises collections of tales published in textual editions alongside a politically embodied campaign to call an end to the practice of indefinite detention of asylum seekers in the United Kingdom. The tales that are told take the form of an established writer giving voice to those that are caught up in this inhuman process. Some of the oral narratives come from refugees, some from care-workers and supporters, and some from from those caught up in the institutional processes of bureaucracy. These tales are heard and rehearsed on an annual walk that appropriates the pilgrimage route to a new geography that contests political space and its confinements. The project as a whole captures the spirit and purpose of Chaucer’s work. While engagement with textual detail is intermittent, but probing where it appears, this body of work, as Chaucer’s did, gives voice to those whose voices are unheard. The Refugee Tales pick up on how Chaucer integrated a narrative about England into an international geography—though with a difference. While Chaucer sets his stories chiefly outside the shores of England for literary purposes, The Refugee Tales appropriate the space of England to create a borderless nation that is hospitable to persons from Africa, the Middle East, Europe, and in fact a whole international diaspora of nations whose people have become displaced. The Refugee Tales takes its inspiration from Chaucer not to produce a quaint exercise in medievalism or to update his work as a solely intellectual exercise. This project engages minds, body, creativity and political will. International in its remit, it frees the Father of English poetry to kick over the traces of borders that would separate nation from nation, children from parents, and human beings from each other. The Refugee Tales digs deep into the spirit of the medieval past to face up to a pressing and urgent global challenge.

The era of audiovisual culture began more than a hundred years ago with the advent of cinema, and is associated with a special language that underlies non-verbal communication processes. Today, screen influence on humans is dominant, as the generation for which computer is an integral part of everyday life has grown. In recent years, non-verbal language around the world has been a major tool in the fight for influence over human consciousness and intelligence. Formation of basic concepts of media education, which later developed into an international pedagogical movement, in a number of western countries (Great Britain, France, Germany) began in the 60’s and 70’s of the XX century. In Canada, as in most highly developed countries (USA, UK, France, Australia), the history of media education began to emerge from cinematographic material. The concept of screen education was formed by the British Society for Education in Film (SEFT), initiated by a group of enthusiastic educators in 1950. In the second half of the twentieth century, due to the intensive development of television, the initial term “film teaching” was transformed into “screen education”. The high intensity of students’ contact with new audiovisual media has become a subject of pedagogical excitement. There was a problem adjusting your children’s audience and media. The most progressive Canadian educators, who have recognized the futility of trying to differentiate students from the growing impact of TV and cinema, have begun introducing a special course in Screen Arts. The use of teachers of the rich potential of new audiovisual media has greatly optimized the learning process itself, the use of films in the classroom has become increasingly motivated. At the end of 1968, an assistant position was created at the Ontario Department of Education, which coordinated work in the “onscreen education” field. It is worth noting that media education in Canada developed under the influence of English media pedagogy. The first developments in the study of “screen education” were proposed in 1968 by British Professor A. Hodgkinson. Canadian institutions are actively implementing media education programs, as the development of e-learning is linked to the hope of solving a number of socio-economic problems. In particular, raising the general education level of the population, expanding access to higher levels of education, meeting the needs for higher education, organizing regular training of specialists in various fields. After all, on the way of building an e-learning system, countries need to solve a set of complex technological problems to ensure the functioning of an extensive network of training centers, quality control of the educational process, training of teaching staff and other problems. Today, it is safe to say that Canada’s media education is on the rise and occupies a leading position in the world. Thus, at the beginning of the 21st century, Canada’s media education reached a level of mass development, based on serious theoretical and methodological developments. Moreover, Canada remains the world leader in higher education and spends at least $ 25 billion on its universities annually. Only the United States, the United Kingdom and Australia are the biggest competitors in this area.

IntroductionHealthcare is increasingly challenged to meet the demands of user involvement and knowledge mobilisation required by the 21st-century patient-centred and knowledge-based economies. Innovations are needed to reduce problematic barriers to knowledge exchange and improve collaborative problem solving. Living labs, as open knowledge systems, have the potential to address these gaps but are underexplored in healthcare.Methods and analysisWe will conduct the first systematic review of living labs across healthcare contexts. We will comprehensively search the following online databases from inception to 31 December 2020: Scopus, the Cochrane Library (Wiley), Medline (OVID), Embase (OVID), Web of Science, PsycINFO (OVID) and EBSCOhost databases including Academic Search Complete, Business Source Premier, Canadian Reference Centre, CINAHL, MasterFILE Premier, SPORTDiscus, Library & Information Science Source, Library, Information Science & Technology Abstracts, AgeLine, EconLit, Art Full Text, Women’s Studies International and Social Work Abstracts. We will search for grey literature using Google advanced techniques and books/book chapters through scholarly and bibliographical databases. We will use a dual-reviewer, two-step selection process with pre-established inclusion criteria and limit to English language publications. Empirical studies of any design examining living lab development, implementation or evaluation in health or healthcare will be included. We will use the Mixed Methods Appraisal Tool (MMAT) for methodological quality appraisal and Covidence software for review management, and we will extract data on pre-established variables such as lab context and technological platforms. We will create evidence tables and analyse across variables such as focal aim and achievement of living lab principles, such as the use of cocreation and multimethod approaches. We will tabulate data for descriptive reporting and narrative synthesis to identify current applications, approaches and promising areas for living lab development across health contexts.Ethics and disseminationEthical approval was not required for this review. This review will inform research into living labs in health environments, including guidance for a living lab in paediatric rehabilitation. Academic publications shared through collaborative networks and social media channels will provide substantive knowledge to the growing tech-health development sector and to researchers, practitioners and organisations seeking enhanced patient/stakeholder engagement and innovations in knowledge translation and evidence-based practice.PROSPERO registration numberCRD42020175275

In the second decade of the 21st century Russian translation studies are receiving a fresh impetus. Amid attempts the culture-oriented translatology undertakes to disown principles of the linguistic approach that traces its origin to R. Jakobson’s works, Russian scholars are first and foremost keen on ensuring consistency with methodology of the Soviet and French Canadian school (J.-P. Vinay, J. Darbelnet, G. Mounin, Y. I. Retsker, A. V. Fedorov, E. G. Etkind, etc.) while revisiting existing approaches to translation and recognizing a huge impact the culture has on it. In our opinion, their goal is to develop some universally applicable paradigm, a sort of “framework” theory, that can explain an interaction of all old and new factors in an act of intercultural mediation by means of translation without casting doubt upon translation as such given it has been proving itself as a practice for many centuries. The focus of recent theoretical research is gradually shifted from linguistic reasoning per se towards an in-depth analysis of counterproductive ideas and factors of linguistic and literature studies approaches in the development of the Russian translatology (R. R. Chaykovskiy), discourse aspect of translation within the framework of a communication situation that allows of taking into account all formants of the latter, including the goal and strategy of translation as well as tactics of its implementation (V. V. Sdobnikov), analysis of the transition discourse in a self-organizing translation space forming the translator’s harmonious outlook aimed at harmonizing meanings of interacting languages and cultures (L. V. Kushnina), in-depth analysis of audiovisual translation peculiarities within the process-oriented translation approach that indisputably requires conveying an image-sense of the film dialogue (V. E. Gorshkova), representation of translation as a discourse and communication model facilitating creation of a discourse dossier as a basis for a translation strategy development as exemplified by an institutional discourse (T. A. Volkova), consideration of ways the verbal and cogitative process and translator’s understanding take their course in the mono- and cross-cultural communication (P. P. Dashinimaeva), development of a systemological transdisciplinary model of translation (N. K. Garbovskiy). All these studies implicitly or explicitly touch upon the hermeneutic aspect of translation, a deep philosophical rationale of which has been given in a monograph by E. N. Mishkurov who interprets it as “a hermeneutical turn” and undertakes a critical analysis of fundamental works by F. Schleiermacher, H.-G. Gadamer, W. Benjamin, G. Steiner, P. Ricoeur and other western philosophers as well those by Russian scholars. He postulates that, within a proposed hermeneutic paradigm of translation (HPT), a hermeneutic-translation methodological standard (HTMS) is created as a transdisciplinary interlingual “mental generative” model of translation mediation under the principle of “hermeneutic circle / hermeneutic spiral”. An “algorithm” of the model described as a standard one presupposes that there must be four stages in it: pre-understanding, understanding, interpretation and translator’s decision. The latter is regarded as a stage where phenomenological reduction of interpretation of meanings taking place at the three previous stages is completed. Thus, translations activity is a development and one of the forms of philosophical and hermeneutical treatment of discourse phenomena that considers interpretation as its main tool. E. N. Mishkurov believes that the use of the above mentioned standard allows us to take into account all classic and innovative translation models providing for a “discourse equivalent and pragmatically adequate” version when dealing with different types of texts, their genres, and particularly when translating contexts that cannot be re-expressed by means of regular translation correspondences. The author’s ideas are backed up by examples in Russian, English, French and Arabic.

The study of indirect translations (IT) into Ukrainian, viewed from a psycholinguistic perspective, will contribute to a better understanding of Soviet national policies and the post-Soviet linguistic and cultural condition. The paper pioneers a discussion of the strategies and types of IT via Russian in the domains of literature and religion. In many cases the corresponding Russian translation, which serves as a source text for the Ukrainian one, cannot be established with confidence, and the “sticking-out ears” of Russian mediation may only be monitored at the level of sentence structure, when Russian wording underlies the Ukrainian text and distorts its natural fluency. The discussion substantiates the strategies and singles out the types of IT, in particular, (1) Soviet lower-quality retranslations of the recent, and mostly high-quality, translations of literary classics, which deliberately imitated lexical, grammatical, and stylistic patterns of the Russian language (became massive in scope in the mid1930s); (2) the translation-from-crib type, or translations via the Russian interlinear version, which have been especially common in poetry after WWII, from the languages of the USSR nationalities and the socialist camp countries; (3) overt relayed translations, based on the published and intended for the audience Russian translations that can be clearly defined as the source texts for the IT into Ukrainian; this phenomenon may be best illustrated with Patriarch Filaret Version of the Holy Scripture, translated from the Russian Synodal Bible (the translation started in the early 1970s); and, finally, (4) later Soviet (from the mid1950s) and post-Soviet (during Independence period) hidden relayed translations of literary works, which have been declared as direct ones but in fact appeared in print shortly after the publication of the respective works in Russian translation and mirrored Russian lexical and stylistic patterns. References Белецкий, А. Переводная литература на Украине // Красное слово. 1929. № 2. С. 87-96. Цит за вид.: Кальниченко О. А., Полякова Ю. Ю. Українська перекладознавча думка 1920-х – початку 1930-х років: Хрестоматія вибраних праць з перекладознавства до курсу «Історія перекладу» / Укладачі Леонід Чернований і Вячеслав Карабан. Вінниця: Нова Книга, 2011. С. 376-391. Бурґгардт, Осв. Большевицька спадщина // Вістник. 1939. № 1, Кн. 2. С. 94-99. Dollerup, C. (2014). Relay in Translation. Cross-linguistic Interaction: Translation, Contrastive and Cognitive Studies. Liber Amicorum in Honour of Prof. Bistra Alexieva published on the occasion of her eightieth birthday, Diana Yankova, (Ed.). (pp. 21-32). St. Kliminent Ohridski University Press. Retrieved from https://cms13659.hstatic.dk/upload_dir/docs/Publications/232-Relay-in-translation-(1).pdf Dong, Xi (2012). A Probe into Translation Strategies from Relevance Perspective—Direct Translation and Indirect Translation. Canadian Social Science, 8(6), 39-44. Retrieved from http://www.cscanada.org/index.php/css/article/viewFile/j.css.1923669720120806.9252/3281 Дзера, О.. Історія українських перекладів Святого Письма // Іноземна філологія. 2014. Вип. 127, Ч. 2. С. 214–222. Філарет, Патріарх Київський та всієї Руси-України, Василь Шкляр, Микола Вересень, В’ячеслав Кириленко. Розмова В’ячеслава Кириленка із Патріархом Київським та всієї Руси-України Філаретом. Віра. У кн.: Три розмови про Україну. Упорядник та радактор В. Кириленко. Х.: Книжковий Клуб «Клуб Сімейного Дозвілля», 2018. С. 9-92. Flynn, P. (2013). Author and Translator. In Yves Gambier, Luc van Doorslaer (Eds.), Handbook of Translation Studies, 4, (pp. 12-19). Amsterdam / Philadelphia: John Benjamins Publishing Company. Gutt, E.-A. (1990). A theoretical account of translation – without a translation theory. Retrieved from http://cogprints.org/2597/1/THEORACC.htm Коломієць Л. В. Український художній переклад та перекладачі 1920-30-х років: матеріали до курсу «Історія перекладу». Вінниця: «Нова книга», 2015. Іларіон, митр. Біблія – найперше джерело для вивчення своєї літературної мови / Митр. Іларіон // Віра і культура. 1958. Ч. 6 (66). С. 13–17. Іларіон, митр. Біблія, або Книги Святого Письма Старого и Нового Заповіту. Із мови давньоєврейської й грецької на українську дослівно наново перекладена. United Bible Societies, 1962. Jinyu L. (2012). Habitus of Translators as Socialized Individuals: Bourdieu’s Account. Theory and Practice in Language Studies, 2(6), 1168-1173. Leighton, L. (1991). Two Worlds, One Art. Literary Translation in Russia and America. DeKalb, Ill.: Northwestern Illinois UP. Лукаш М. Прогресивна західноєвропейська література в перекладах на українську мову // Протей [редкол. О. Кальниченко (голова) та ін.]. Вип. 2. X.: Вид-во НУА, 2009. С. 560–605. Майфет, Г. [Рецензія] // Червоний шлях. 1930. № 2. С. 252-258. Рец. на кн.: Боккаччо Дж. Декамерон / пер. Л. Пахаревського та П. Майорського; ред. С. Родзевича та П. Мохора; вступ. ст. В. Державіна. [Харків]; ДВУ, 1929. Ч. 1. XXXI, 408 с.; Ч. 2. Цит за вид.: Кальниченко О. А., Полякова Ю. Ю. Українська перекладознавча думка 1920-х – початку 1930-х років: Хрестоматія вибраних праць з перекладознавства до курсу «Історія перекладу» / Укладачі Леонід Чернований і Вячеслав Карабан. Вінниця: Нова Книга, 2011. С. 344-356. Munday, J. (2010). Introducing Translation Studies: Theories and Applications. 2nd Ed. London & New York: Routledge. Pauly, M. D. (2014). Breaking the Tongue: Language, Education, and Power in Soviet Ukraine. Toronto Buffalo London: University of Toronto Press. Pieta, H. & Rosa, A. A. (2013). Panel 7: Indirect translation: exploratory panel on the state-of-the-art and future research avenues. 7th EST Congress – Germersheim, 29 August – 1 September 2013. Retrieved from http://www.fb06.uni-mainz.de/est/51.php Плющ, Б. O. Прямий та неопрямий переклад української художньої прози англійською, німецькою, іспанською та російською мовами. Дис. …канд. філол. наук., Київ: КНУ імені Тараса Шевченка, 2016. Ringmar, M. (2012). Relay translation. In Yves Gambier, Luc van Doorslaer (Eds.), Handbook of Translation Studies, 4 (pp. 141-144). Amsterdam / Philadelphia: John Benjamins Publishing Company. Simeoni, D. (1998). The pivotal status of the translator’s habitus. Target, 10(1), 1-39. Солодовнікова, М. І. Відтворення стилістичних особливостей роману Марка Твена «Пригоди Тома Сойера» в українських перекладах: квантитативний аспект // Перспективи розвитку філологічних наук: Матеріали ІІІ Міжнародної науково-практичної конференції (Хмельницький, 24-25 березня). Херсон: вид-во «Гельветика», 2017. С. 99-103. Sommer, D, ed. (2006). Cultural Agency in the Americas. [Synopsis]. Durham, NC: Duke University Press. Špirk, J. (2014). Censorship, Indirect Translations and Non-translation: The (Fateful) Adventures of Czech Literature in 20th-century Portugal. Newcastle upon Tyne: Cambridge Scholars Publishing. Venuti, L. (2001). Strategies of Translation. In M. Baker (ed.). Routledge Encyclopedia of Translation Studies, (pp. 240-244). London & New York: Routledge. References (translated and transliterated) Beletskii, A. (1929). Perevodnaia literatura na Ukraine [Translated literature in Ukraine]. Krasnoe Slovo [Red Word], 2, 87-96. Reprint in: Kalnychenko, O. A. and Poliakova, Yu. (2011). In Leonid Chernovatyi and Viacheslav Karaban (Eds.). Ukraiins’ka perekladoznavcha dumka 1920-kh – pochatku 1930-kh rokiv: Khrestomatiia vybranykh prats z perekladosnavstva do kursu “Istoriia perekladu” [Ukrainian translation studies of the 1920s – early 1930s: A textbook of selected works in translation studies for a course on the “History of Translation”]. (pp. 376-391). Vinnytsia: Nova Knyha, Burghardt, O. (1939). Bolshevytska spadschyna [The Bolsheviks’ heritage]. Vistnyk [The Herald], Vol. 1, Book 2, 94-99. Dollerup, C. (2014). Relay in Translation. Cross-linguistic Interaction: Translation, Contrastive and Cognitive Studies. Liber Amicorum in Honour of Prof. Bistra Alexieva published on the occasion of her eightieth birthday, Diana Yankova, (Ed.). (pp. 21-32). St. Kliminent Ohridski University Press. Retrieved from https://cms13659.hstatic.dk/upload_dir/docs/Publications/232-Relay-in-translation-(1).pdf Dong, Xi (2012). A Probe into Translation Strategies from Relevance Perspective—Direct Translation and Indirect Translation. Canadian Social Science, 8(6), 39-44. Retrieved from http://www.cscanada.org/index.php/css/article/viewFile/j.css.1923669720120806.9252/3281 Dzera, O. (2014). Istoriia ukraiinskykh perekladiv Sviatoho Pysma [History of Ukrainian translations of the Holy Scripture]. Inozemna Filologiia, 127, Part 2, 214-222. Filaret, Patriarch of Kyiv and all Rus-Ukraine et al. (2018). Rozmova Viacheslava Kyrylenka iz Patriarkhom Kyivskym ta vsiiei Rusy-Ukrainy Filaretom. Vira [A Conversation of Viacheslav Kyrylenko with Patriarch of Kyiv and all Rus-Ukraine Filaret. Faith]. In: Try rozmovy pro Ukrainu [Three Conversations about Ukraine], compiled and edited by V. Kyrylenko. Kharkiv: Family Leisure Club, 9-92. Flynn, P. (2013). Author and Translator. In Yves Gambier, Luc van Doorslaer (Eds.), Handbook of Translation Studies, 4, (pp. 12-19). Amsterdam / Philadelphia: John Benjamins Publishing Company. Gutt, E.-A. (1990). A theoretical account of translation – without a translation theory. Retrieved from http://cogprints.org/2597/1/THEORACC.htm Kolomiyets, L. (2015). Ukraiinskyi khudozhniy pereklad ta perekladachi 1920-30-kh rokiv: Materialy do kursu “Istoriia perekladu” [Ukrainian Literary Translation and Translators in the 1920s-30s: “History of translation” course materials]. Vinnytsia: Nova Knyha. Ilarion, Metropolitan (1958). Bibliia – naipershe dzherelo dlia vyvchennia svoiei literaturnoi movy [The Bible is the first source for studying our literary language]. Vira i kultura [Faith and Culture], No. 6 (66), 13–17. Ilarion, Metropolitan. 1962. Bibliia abo Knyhy Sviatoho Pusma Staroho i Novoho Zapovitu. Iz movy davnioievreiskoi i hretskoi na ukrainsku doslivno nanovo perekladena. Commissioned by United Bible Societies. Jinyu L. (2012). Habitus of Translators as Socialized Individuals: Bourdieu’s Account. Theory and Practice in Language Studies, 2(6), 1168-1173. Leighton, L. (1991). Two Worlds, One Art. Literary Translation in Russia and America. DeKalb, Ill.: Northwestern Illinois UP. Lukash, M. (2009). Prohresyvna zakhidnoievropeiska literatura v perekladakh na ukraiinsku movu [Progressive West European Literature in Ukrainian]. Protei. Vol. 2. Edited by O. Kalnychenko. Kharkiv: Vydavnytstvo NUA, 560-605. Maifet, H. (1930). [Review]. Chervonyi Shliakh [Red Path], 2, 252-258. Review of the book: Boccaccio G. Decameron. Tr. by L. Pakharevskyi and P. Maiorskyi; S. Rodzevych and P. Mokhor (Eds.).; introduction by V. Derzhavyn. Kharkiv: DVU, 1929. Part 1. XXXI; Part 2. Reprint in: Kalnychenko, O. and Poliakova, Yu. (2011). In Leonid Chernovatyi and Viacheslav Karaban (Eds). Ukraiins’ka perekladoznavcha dumka 1920-kh – pochatku 1930-kh rokiv: Khrestomatiia vybranykh prats z perekladosnavstva do kursu “Istoriia perekladu” [Ukrainian translation studies of the 1920s – early 1930s: A textbook of selected works in translation studies for a course on the “History of Translation”]. (pp. 344-356). Vinnytsia: Nova Knyha. Munday, J. (2010). Introducing Translation Studies: Theories and applications. 2nd Ed. London & New York: Routledge. Pauly, M. D. (2014). Breaking the Tongue: Language, Education, and Power in Soviet Ukraine. Toronto Buffalo London: University of Toronto Press. Pieta, H. & Rosa, A. A. (2013). Panel 7: Indirect translation: exploratory panel on the state-of-the-art and future research avenues. 7th EST Congress – Germersheim, 29 August – 1 September 2013. Retrieved from http://www.fb06.uni-mainz.de/est/51.php Pliushch, B. (2016). Direct and Indirect Translations of Ukrainian Literary Prose into English, German, Spanish and Russian. PhD thesis. Manuscript copyright. Kyiv: Taras Shevchenko National University of Kyiv. Ringmar, M. (2012). Relay translation. In Yves Gambier, Luc van Doorslaer (Eds.), Handbook of Translation Studies, 4 (pp. 141-144). Amsterdam / Philadelphia: John Benjamins Publishing Company. Simeoni, D. (1998). The pivotal status of the translator’s habitus. Target, 10(1), 1-39. Solodovnikova. M. I. (2017) Vidtvorennia stylistychnykh osoblyvostei romanu Marka Tvena “Pryhody Toma Soiera” v ukrainskykh perekladakh: kvantytatyvnyi aspekt. Perspektyvy rozvytku filolohichnykh nauk: Book of abstracts of III International Scientific Conference (Khmelnytskyi, 24-25 March). Kherson: Helvetyka Publishing House. (99-103). Sommer, D., Ed. (2006). Cultural Agency in the Americas. [Synopsis]. Durham, NC: Duke University Press. Špirk, J. (2014). Censorship, Indirect Translations and Non-translation: The (Fateful) Adventures of Czech Literature in 20th-century Portugal. Newcastle upon Tyne: Cambridge Scholars Publishing. Venuti, L. (2001). Strategies of Translation. In Routledge Encyclopedia of Translation Studies, (pp. 240-244). M. Baker (ed.). London & New York: Routledge.

STEAM-based learning is a global issue in early-childhood education practice. STEAM content becomes an integrative thematic approach as the main pillar of learning in kindergarten. This study aims to develop a conceptual and practical approach in the implementation of children's education by applying a modification from STEAM Learning to R-SLAMET. The research used a qualitative case study method with data collection through focus group discussions (FGD), involving early-childhood educator's research participants (n = 35), interviews, observation, document analysis such as videos, photos and portfolios. The study found several ideal categories through the use of narrative data analysis techniques. The findings show that educators gain an understanding of the change in learning orientation from competency indicators to play-based learning. Developing thematic play activities into continuum playing scenarios. STEAM learning content modification (Science, Technology, Engineering, Art and Math) to R-SLAMETS content (Religion, Science, Literacy, Art, Math, Engineering, Technology and Social study) in daily class activity. Children activities with R-SLAMETS content can be developed based on an integrative learning flow that empowers loose part media with local materials learning resources. Keyword: STEAM to R-SLAMETS, Early Childhood Education, Integrative Thematic Learning References Ali, E., Kaitlyn M, C., Hussain, A., & Akhtar, Z. (2018). the Effects of Play-Based Learning on Early Childhood Education and Development. Journal of Evolution of Medical and Dental Sciences, 7(43), 4682–4685. https://doi.org/10.14260/jemds/2018/1044 Ata Aktürk, A., & Demircan, O. (2017). A Review of Studies on STEM and STEAM Education in Early Childhood. Journal of Kırşehir Education Faculty, 18(2), 757–776. Azizah, W. A., Sarwi, S., & Ellianawati, E. (2020). Implementation of Project -Based Learning Model (PjBL) Using STREAM-Based Approach in Elementary Schools. Journal of Primary Education, 9(3), 238–247. https://doi.org/10.15294/jpe.v9i3.39950 Badmus, O. (2018). Evolution of STEM, STEAM and STREAM Education in Africa: The Implication of the Knowledge Gap. In Contemporary Issues in Science, Technology, Engineering, Arts and Mathematics Teacher Education in Nigeria. Björklund, C., & Ahlskog-Björkman, E. (2017). Approaches to teaching in thematic work: early childhood teachers’ integration of mathematics and art. International Journal of Early Years Education, 25(2), 98–111. https://doi.org/10.1080/09669760.2017.1287061 Broadhead, P. (2003). Early Years Play and Learning. In Early Years Play and Learning. https://doi.org/10.4324/9780203465257 Canning, N. (2010). The influence of the outdoor environment: Den-making in three different contexts. European Early Childhood Education Research Journal, 18(4), 555–566. https://doi.org/10.1080/1350293X.2010.525961 Clapp, E. P., Solis, S. L., Ho, C. K. N., & Sachdeva, A. R. (2019). Complicating STEAM: A Critical Look at the Arts in the STEAM Agenda. Encyclopedia of Educational Innovation, 1–4. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-981-13-2262-4_54-1 Colucci, L., Burnard, P., Cooke, C., Davies, R., Gray, D., & Trowsdale, J. (2017). Reviewing the potential and challenges of developing STEAM education through creative pedagogies for 21st learning: how can school curricula be broadened towards a more responsive, dynamic, and inclusive form of education? BERA Research Commission, August, 1–105. https://doi.org/10.13140/RG.2.2.22452.76161 Conradty, C., & Bogner, F. X. (2018). From STEM to STEAM: How to Monitor Creativity. Creativity Research Journal, 30(3), 233–240. https://doi.org/10.1080/10400419.2018.1488195 Conradty, C., & Bogner, F. X. (2019). From STEM to STEAM: Cracking the Code? 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Embedding play-based learning into junior primary (Year 1 and 2) Curriculum in WA. Australian Journal of Teacher Education, 43(1), 112–126. https://doi.org/10.14221/ajte.2018v43n1.7 Kennedy, A., & Barblett, L. (2010). Supporting the Early Years Learning Framework. Research in Practise Series, 17(3), 1–12. Keung, C. P. C., & Cheung, A. C. K. (2019). Towards Holistic Supporting of Play-Based Learning Implementation in Kindergartens: A Mixed Method Study. Early Childhood Education Journal, 47(5), 627–640. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10643-019-00956-2 Keung, C. P. C., & Fung, C. K. H. (2020). Exploring kindergarten teachers’ pedagogical content knowledge in the development of play-based learning. Journal of Education for Teaching, 46(2), 244–247. https://doi.org/10.1080/02607476.2020.1724656 Krogh, S., & Morehouse, P. (2014). The Early Childhood Curriculum : Inquiry Learning Through Integration. Liao, C. (2016). 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Early Childhood Education Journal, 43(5), 385–393. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10643-014-0666-1 Pyle, A., & Danniels, E. (2017). A Continuum of Play-Based Learning: The Role of the Teacher in Play-Based Pedagogy and the Fear of Hijacking Play. Early Education and Development, 28(3), 274–289. https://doi.org/10.1080/10409289.2016.1220771 Quigley, C. F., Herro, D., & Jamil, F. M. (2017). Developing a Conceptual Model of STEAM Teaching Practices. School Science and Mathematics, 117(1–2), 1–12. https://doi.org/10.1111/ssm.12201 Ridgers, N. D., Knowles, Z. R., & Sayers, J. (2012). Encouraging play in the natural environment: A child-focused case study of Forest School. Children’s Geographies, 10(1), 49–65. https://doi.org/10.1080/14733285.2011.638176 Ridwan, A., Rahmawati, Y., & Hadinugrahaningsih, T. (2017). Steam Integration in Chemistry Learning for Developing 21st Century Skills. MIER Journail of Educational Studies, Trends & Practices, 7(2), 184–194. Rolling, J. H. (2016). Reinventing the STEAM Engine for Art + Design Education. Art Education, 69(4), 4–7. https://doi.org/10.1080/00043125.2016.1176848 Sancar-Tokmak, H. (2015). The effect of curriculum-generated play instruction on the mathematics teaching efficacies of early childhood education pre-service teachers. European Early Childhood Education Research Journal, 23(1), 5–20. https://doi.org/10.1080/1350293X.2013.788315 Sawangmek, S. (2019). Trends and Issues on STEM and STEAM Education in Early Childhood. Képzés És Gyakorlat, 17(2019/3-4), 97–106. https://doi.org/10.17165/tp.2019.3-4.8 Science, A. I. (n.d.). STEM Project-Based Learning. Spencer, R., Joshi, N., Branje, K., Lee McIsaac, J., Cawley, J., Rehman, L., FL Kirk, S., & Stone, M. (2019). Educator perceptions on the benefits and challenges of loose parts play in the outdoor environments of childcare centres. AIMS Public Health, 6(4), 461–476. https://doi.org/10.3934/publichealth.2019.4.461 Taylor, J., Bond, E., & Woods, M. (2018). A Multidisciplinary and Holistic Introduction. Varun A. (2014). Thematic Approach for Effective Communication in Early Childhood Education Thematic Approach for effective communication in ECCE. International Journal of Education and Psychological Research (IJEPR), 3(3), 49–51. https://www.researchgate.net/publication/289868193 Wang, X., Xu, W., & Guo, L. (2018). The status quo and ways of STEAM education promoting China’s future social sustainable development. Sustainability (Switzerland), 10(12). https://doi.org/10.3390/su10124417 Whitebread, D. D. (2012). The Importance of Play. Toy Industries of Europe, April, 1–55. https://doi.org/10.5455/msm.2015.27.438-441 Wong, S. M., Wang, Z., & Cheng, D. (2011). A play-based curriculum: Hong Kong children’s perception of play and non-play. International Journal of Learning, 17(10), 165–180. https://doi.org/10.18848/1447-9494/cgp/v17i10/47298 Zosh, J. M., Hopkins, E. J., Jensen, H., Liu, C., Neale, D., Hirsh-Pasek, K., Whitebread, Solis, S. L., & David. (2017). Learning through play : a review of the evidence (Issue November). The LEGO Foundation.

This article looks at the use of the essay genre by Canadian and Québécois women writers since 2000, in particular essay writing by authors known primarily for their works of fiction and poetry. For many, the essay form has served as an ideal venue for combining new, innovative, experimental and “alternative” forms of writing with concerns of personal and political struggle for social, cultural, economic, and even psychological recognition and justice. The article begins with a brief overview of aspects of essay writing by Canadian and Québécois women writers at the end of the 20th century before turning to some comparative observations that suggest convergences and differences, as well as continuity and departures in essay writing by Canadian and Québécois women writers since the beginning of the 21st century. Convergences are seen in the combination of personal commentary on topics of social, political, national and global relevance with experimental use of the essay genre. They are seen as well in the continuum of these explorations and practices from the last two decades of the 20th century into the first decade of the 21st century, even as the latter brings about new forms of essay writing in the use of the internet and the blog-essay. Differences between Canadian and Québécois women writers’ practice of the essay may be seen as well, notably in what one literary and critical community reads and knows of the other. This stems in large part from language barriers and limited resources for translation, though these have been overcome in some cases such as the collection of essays by Nicole Brossard in English translation, Fluid Arguments (2005). Whether writing in French or in English, Canadian and Québécois women writers as essayists have produced and continue to produce important work that calls for ongoing critical attention.

Arabic language is a global language and has become one of the most important languages for all language learners around the world. A fundamental component of sound Arabic language acquisition is Arabic poetry which is innately intricate. Hence, deficiency in interactive computer programs specially designed for learning Arabic poetry, has generated apathy that Arabic poetry is superfluous, consequently ensuing impotence to the graduates of Arabic Language and Literature Studies. The existing scenario illustrates the preference and reliance on interactive programs and gadgets among the educators and students. E-Diwan enables the accessibility of teaching and learning Arabic poetry through a mobile device and a mobile interface (Android, iPhone, Windows Mobile) with a designated Arabic poetry electronic portfolio website. E-Diwan keeps the students glued to the screen and are dazzled by the atheistic beauty of Arabic poetry subsequently augmenting them with a corpus of Arabic literary lexis. By a click of a button, the app displays a spectrum analysis of the poems; definition, grammatical and rhetorical properties, a brief biography of the poet, and translation of the poems in English and Malay. It is also equipped with the ability to audio present the above information using a recorded voice of an Arabic native speaker. Built-in are videos designed to simultaneously improve the information outcome and performance skills of the user. E-Diwan’s comprehensive nature facilitates individual learning, which cultivates Life Long Learning. E-Diwan fits as a lecture companion tool for all educators teaching Arabic poetry and Arabic language learners.

The devotional literature we find in India's regional languages is sometimes referred to as Bhakti's literature. Since the poets from Bhakti Panth are more social and cultural, they are more thinkers and more social than literary figures. The translation of classics is particularly meaningful when a native language is translated into English. The classics are introduced to the world. In contemporary Shri Aurobindo and Dilp Chitre did, what Hsuan-tsang did for Sanskrit scripts. A. K. Ramanujan has also made a strong flow of translation in the post-colonial literature and Bhakti has been one of these literatures. This article explores the devotional poems of Narsinh Mehta that are important even in the 21st century.

Quebec has been home to a rich and vibrant English-language literary community since the nineteenth century. The rise of the Canadian small-press movement in the 1960s gave way to a revival of the English-language publishing industry in Montreal, which had considerably dwindled at the turn of the twentieth century. Poets benefited greatly from this phenomenon, and literary coteries of poets were formed as a result, in particular the Vehicule Poets, associated with the Véhicule Art Gallery and with Véhicule Press in the early 1970s, and a group of poets who were associated with New Delta and later with the Signal Editions poetry series. This paper focuses on the ways in which literary circles are formed and how they might be identified, and uses the Jubilate Circle, a group of poets revolving around Signal Editions and consisting of Michael Harris, David Solway, Carmine Starnino and Eric Ormsby, as a case study.

As an unconventional and innovative poet in contemporary modern Indian Writings in English, Khandelwal’s Conch Shells and Cowries, his first Anthology, holds him apart from other present-day writers. In appending such a title to his anthology of love poems, Khandelwal has rationally developed a unique style of his own. His poem ‘Word’, and others in the anthology are not only cloaked in numerous symbols and other figures of speech but are also innovative in their unique structure, form and content. In this manner, he has paved the path for a new concept of writing in expressing his ‘love thoughts,’ pertinently in singular pounding words that nail him as an innovative poet of the 21st century. Khandelwal has thus, effectively established the trend for post-modernist, futuristic poetry in the realm of Indian Writings in English for which he deserves recognition as an eminent poet.

Although critical interest in Roy Campbell’s work remains lively and his place in South African literary history seems secure, he is not a vital presence in the new South Africa; his work has become peripheral to metropolitan English literature, a small manifestation of a more general shift in global culture. Where then does Roy Campbell stand? Is there a new context for his work? In a review of a range of criticism from the first decade of the 21st century, this article finds that Roy Campbell’s work can be rewardingly read in the context of the Graeco-Roman classical inheritance that he embraced and the Romance culture in which he settled. This recognition has both enriched the resonance of Campbell’s poetry and aligned him with other artists who have been re-absorbed into Europe as the colonial appropriation of Africa recedes.

The role and representation of women has been one of the central issues in the societal, aesthetical, philosophical processes of the 20th and 21st centuries, so much so, that it became a turning point of sorts in the development of Western civilization and in shaping it to its current form. Even today, the topic of women remains a measure of the progress of a country, and is one of the main characteristics of social and cultural development. The voice of women, hardly heard in literature over the centuries, was even more silenced in colonized or foreign-dominated societies. The Soviet cultural policy significantly changed the direction of development of Georgian literature, and hindered modernist-avant-garde tendencies and attempts to express women’s genuine feelings and grievances in literature. The article studies the representation of women and gender roles in Georgian poetry of the Soviet thaw and onwards, as compared to the voice of women in the poetry of a number of prominent North American and Canadian poets. The article analyzes the works of Georgian poets who were selected mainly on the basis of the concepts of the national narrative and alternative narrative. In the late 20th century, the national narrative was the real driving force in the literature of Soviet-dominated Georgia, especially in poetry, as opposed to the official, imposed official Soviet narrative. The selected poets are studied in light of different concepts and hypotheses introduced by outstanding feminist scholars and writers. The results show that masculine discourse and double-voiced discourse can be observed in the poetry of Georgian male authors. The tendencies prevalent in the poetry of the Georgian men analyzed were influenced by the national motifs endorsed by both the Stalinist and post-Stalinist cultural policies from the Soviet center, and reinforced in Georgia after Sovietization. The patriotic and masculine tendencies of Georgian literature can be interpreted as an implicit reflection of the attempts of Georgian men to represent themselves as the owners of their land, and consequently their women, thus to oppose the reality of the Russian-Soviet colonization of Georgia. Écriture feminine and a protest against patriarchy is seen to prevail, alongside double-voiced discourse, in the works of female poets from the late 1950s onwards. The Georgian female poets have a lot in common with their North-American counterparts, but also differ from them by expressing their protest less overtly, a fact which changes over time. Écriture feminine in the poetry of the studied female poets, as well as the double-voiced discourse observed in the poetry of the representatives of both genders in Georgia, can be considered as part of the Alternative Narrative Culture. The developments of the 20th century still have an impact on Georgian literature, as well as other fields, in modern Georgia. The alternative narrative which prevails in Georgian literature of the 20th century is regaining momentum in the literature of independent Georgia, making it a full-fledged member of postmodern and post-colonial culture.

The ideas put forth here do not fit perfectly or entirely into the genre and form of what has established itself as the scholarly journal article. What is put forth, instead, is a juxtaposition of lines of thinking about the scholarly and popular in publishing, past, present and future. As such it may indeed be quite appropriate to the occasion and the questions raised in the call for papers for this special issue of M/C Journal. The ideas put forth here are intended as pieces of an ever-changing puzzle of the making public of scholarship, which, I hope, may in some way fit with both the work of others in this special issue and in the discourse more broadly. The first line of thinking presented takes the form of an historical overview of publishing as context to consider a second line of thinking about the current status and future of publishing. The historical context serves as reminder (and cause for celebration) that publishing has not yet perished, contrary to continued doomsday sooth-saying that has come with each new medium since the advent of print. Instead, publishing has continued to transform and it is precisely the transformation of print, print culture and reading publics that are the focus of this article, in particular, in relation to the question of the boundaries between the scholarly and the popular. What follows is a juxtaposition that is part of an investigation in progress. Presented first, therefore, is a mapping of shifts in print culture from the time of Gutenberg to the twentieth century; second, is a contemporary snapshot of the editorial mandates of more than one hundred member journals of the Canadian Association of Learned Journals (CALJ). What such juxtaposition is able to reveal is open to interpretation, of course. And indeed, as I proceed in my investigation of publishing past, present and future, my interpretations are many. The juxtaposition raises a number of issues: of communities of readers and the cultures of reading publics; of privileged and marginalised texts (as well as their authors and their readers); of access and reach (whether in terms of what is quantifiable or in a much more subtle but equally important sense). In Canada, at present, these issues are also intertwined with changes to research funding policies and some attention is given at the end of this article to the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council (SSHRC) of Canada and its recent/current shift in funding policy. Curiously, current shifts in funding policies, considered alongside an historical overview of publishing, would suggest that although publishing continues to transform, at the same time, as they say, plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose. Republics of Letters and Ghosts in Machines Republics of Letters that formed after the advent of the printing press can be conjured up as distant and almost mythical communities of elite literates, ghosts almost lost in a Gutenberg galaxy that today encompasses (and is embodied in) schools, bookshelves, and digital archives in many places across the globe. Conjuring up ghosts of histories past seems always to reveal ironies, and indeed some of the most interesting ironies of the Gutenberg galaxy involve McLuhanesque reversals or, if not full reversals, then in the least some notably sharp turns. There is a need to define some boundaries (and terms) in the framing of the tracing that follows. Given that the time frame in question spans more than five hundred years (from the advent of Gutenberg’s printing press in the fifteenth century to the turn of the 21st century), the tracing must necessarily be done in broad strokes. With regard to what is meant by the “making public of scholarship” in this paper, by “making public” I refer to accounts historians have given in their attempts to reconstruct a history of what was published either in the periodical press or in books. With regard to scholarship (and the making public of it), as with many things in the history of publishing (or any history), this means different things in different times and in different places. The changing meanings of what can be termed “scholarship” and where and how it historically has been made public are the cornerstones on which this article (and a history of the making public of scholarship) turn. The structure of this paper is loosely chronological and is limited to the print cultures and reading publics in France, Britain, and what would eventually be called the US and Canada, and what follows here is an overview of changes in how scholarly and popular texts and publics are variously defined over the course of history. The Construction of Reading Publics and Print Culture In any consideration of “print culture” and reading publics, historical or contemporary, there are two guiding principles that historians suggest should be kept in mind, and, though these may seem self-evident, they are worth stating explicitly (perhaps precisely because they seem self-evident). The first is a reminder from Adrian Johns that “the very identity of print itself has had to be made” (2 italics in original). Just as the identity of print cultures are made, similarly, a history of reading publics and their identities are made, by looking to and interpreting such variables as numbers and genres of titles published and circulated, dates and locations of collections, and information on readers’ experiences of texts. Elizabeth Eisenstein offers a reminder of the “widely varying circumstances” (92) of the print revolution and an explicit acknowledgement of such circumstances provides the second, seemingly self-evident guiding principle: that the construction of reading publics and print culture must not only be understood as constructed, but also that such constructions ought not be understood as uniform. The purpose of the reconstructions of print cultures and reading publics presented here, therefore, is not to arrive at final conclusions, but rather to identify patterns that prove useful in better understanding the current status (and possible future) of publishing. The Fifteenth and Sixteenth Centuries—Boom, then Busted by State and Church In search of what could be termed “scholarship” following the mid-fifteenth century boom of the early days of print, given the ecclesiastical and state censorship in Britain and France and the popularity of religious texts of the 15th and 16th centuries, arguably the closest to “scholarship” that we can come is through the influence of the Italian Renaissance and the revival and translation (into Latin, and to a far lesser extent, vernacular languages) of the classics and indeed the influence of the Italian Renaissance on the “print revolution” is widely recognised by historians. Historians also recognise, however, that it was not long until “the supply of unpublished texts dried up…[yet for authors] to sell the fruits of their intellect—was not yet common practice before the late 16th century” (Febvre and Martin 160). Although this reference is to the book trade in France, in Britain, and in the regions to become the US and Canada, reading of “pious texts” was similarly predominant in the early days of print. Yet, the humanist shift throughout the 16th century is evidenced by titles produced in Paris in the first century of print: in 1501, in a total of 88 works, 53 can be categorised as religious, with 25 categorised as Latin, Greek, or Humanist authors; as compared to titles produced in 1549, in a total of 332 titles, 56 can be categorised as religious with 204 categorised as Latin, Greek, or Humanist authors (Febvre and Martin 264). The Seventeenth Century—Changes in the Political and Print Landscape In the 17th century, printers discovered that their chances of profitability (and survival) could be improved by targeting and developing a popular readership through the periodical press (its very periodicity and relative low cost both contributed to its accessibility by popular publics) in Europe as well as in North America. It is worthwhile to note, however, that “to the end of the seventeenth century, both literacy and leisure were virtually confined to scholars and ‘gentlemen’” (Steinberg 119) particularly where books were concerned and although literacy rates were still low, through the “exceptionally literate villager” there formed “hearing publics” who would have printed texts read to them (Eisenstein 93). For the literate members of the public interested not only in improving their social positions through learning, but also with intellectual (or spiritual or existential) curiosity piqued by forbidden books, it is not surprising that Descartes “wrote in French to a ‘lay audience … open to new ideas’” (Jacob 41). The 17th century also saw the publication of the first scholarly journals. There is a tension that becomes evident in the seventeenth century that can be seen as a tension characteristic of print culture, past and present: on the one hand, the housing of scholarship in scholarly journals as a genre distinct from the genre of the popular periodicals can be interpreted as a continued pattern of (elitist) divide in publics (as seen earlier between the oral and the written word, between Latin and the vernacular, between classic texts and popular texts); while, on the other hand, some thinkers/scholars of the day had an interest in reaching a wider audience, as printers always had, which led to the construction and fragmentation of audiences (whether the printer’s market for his goods or the scholar’s marketplace of ideas). The Eighteenth Century—Republics of Letters Become Concrete and Visible The 18th century saw ever-increasing literacy rates, early copyright legislation (Statute of Anne in 1709), improved printing technology, and ironically (or perhaps on the contrary, quite predictably) severe censorship that in effect led to an increased demand for forbidden books and a vibrant and international underground book trade (Darnton and Roche 138). Alongside a growing book trade, “the pulpit was ultimately displaced by the periodical press” (Eisenstein 94), which had become an “established institution” (Steinberg 125). One history of the periodical press in France finds that the number of periodicals (to remain in publication for three or more years) available to the reading public in 1745 numbered 15, whereas in 1785 this increased to 82 (Censer 7). With regard to scholarly periodicals, another study shows that between 1790 and 1800 there were 640 scientific-technological periodicals being published in Europe (Kronick 1961). Across the Atlantic, earlier difficulties in cultivating intellectual life—such as haphazard transatlantic exchange and limited institutions for learning—began to give way to a “republic of letters” that was “visible and concrete” (Hall 417). The Nineteenth Century—A Second Boom and the Rise of the Periodical Press By the turn of the 19th century, visible and concrete republics of letters become evident on both sides of the Atlantic in the boom in book publishing and in the periodical press, scholarly and popular. State and church controls on printing/publishing had given way to the press as the “fourth estate” or a free press as powerful force. The legislation of public education brought increased literacy rates among members of successive generations. One study of literacy rates in Britain, for example, shows that in the period from 1840–1870 literacy rates increased by 35–70 per cent; then from 1870–1900, literacy increased by 78–261 per cent (Mitch 76). Further, with the growth and changes in universities, “history, languages and literature and, above all, the sciences, became an established part of higher education for the first time,” which translated into growing markets for book publishers (Feather 117). Similarly the periodical press reached ever-increasing and numerous reading publics: one estimate of the increase finds the publication of nine hundred journals in 1800 jumping to almost sixty thousand in 1901 (Brodman, cited in Kronick 127). Further, the important role of the periodical press in developing communities of readers was recognised by publishers, editors and authors of the time, something equally recognised by present-day historians describing the “generic mélange of the periodical … [that] particularly lent itself to the interpenetration of language and ideas…[and] the verbal and conceptual interconnectedness of science, politics, theology, and literature” (Dawson, Noakes and Topham 30). Scientists recognised popular periodicals as “important platforms for addressing a non-specialist but culturally powerful public … [they were seen as public] performances [that] fulfilled important functions in making the claims of science heard among the ruling élite” (Dawson et al. 11). By contrast, however, the scholarly journals of the time, while also increasing in number, were becoming increasingly specialised along the same disciplinary boundaries being established in the universities, fulfilling a very different function of forming scholarly and discipline-specific discourse communities through public (published) performances of a very different nature. The Twentieth Century—The Tension Between Niche Publics and Mass Publics The long-existing tension in print culture between the differentiation of reading publics on the one hand, and the reach to ever-expanding reading publics on the other, in the twentieth century becomes a tension between what have been termed “niche-marketing” and “mass marketing,” between niche publics and mass publics. What this meant for the making public of scholarship was that the divides between discipline-specific discourse communities (and their corresponding genres) became more firmly established and yet, within each discipline, there was further fragmentation and specialisation. The niche-mass tension also meant that although in earlier print culture, “the lines of demarcation between men of science, men of letters, and scientific popularizers were far from clear, and were constantly being renegotiated” (Dawson et al 28), with the increasing professionalisation of academic work (and careers), lines of demarcation became firmly drawn between scholarly and popular titles and authors, as well as readers, who were described as “men of science,” as “educated men,” or as “casual observers” (Klancher 90). The question remains, however, as one historian of science asks, “To whom did the reading public go in order to learn about the ultimate meaning of modern science, the professionals or the popularizers?” (Lightman 191). By whom and for whom, where and how scholarship has historically been made public, are questions worthy of consideration if contemporary scholars are to better understand the current status (and possible future) for the making public of scholarship. A Snapshot of Scholarly Journals in Canada and Current Changes in Funding Policies The here and now of scholarly journal publishing in Canada (a growing, but relatively modest scholarly journal community, compared to the number of scholarly journals published in Europe and the US) serves as an interesting microcosm through which to consider how scholarly journal publishing has evolved since the early days of print. What follows here is an overview of the membership of the Canadian Association of Learned Journals (CALJ), in particular: (1) their target readers as identifiable from their editorial mandates; (2) their print/online/open-access policies; and (3) their publishers (all information gathered from the CALJ website, http://www.calj-acrs.ca/). Analysis of the collected data for the 100 member journals of CALJ (English, French and bilingual journals) with available information on the CALJ website is presented in Table 1 (below). A few observations are noteworthy: (1) in terms of readers, although all 100 journals identify a scholarly audience as their target readership, more than 40% of the journal also identify practitioners, policy-makers, or general readers as members of their target audience; (2) more than 25% of the journals publish online as well as or instead of print editions; and (3) almost all journals are published either by a Canadian university or, in one case, a college (60%) or a scholarly or professional society (31%). Table 1: Target Readership, Publishing Model and Publishers, CALJ Members (N=100) Journals with identifiable scholarly target readership 100 Journals with other identifiable target readership: practitioner 35 Journals with other identifiable target readership: general readers 18 Journals with other identifiable target readership: policy-makers/government 10 Total journals with identifiable target readership other than scholarly 43 Journals publishing in print only 56 Journals publishing in print and online 24 Journals publishing in print, online and open access 16 Journals publishing online only and open access 4 Journals published through a Canadian university press, faculty or department 60 Journals published by a scholarly or professional society 31 Journals published by a research institute 5 Journals published by the private sector 4 In the context of the historical overview presented earlier, this data raises a number of questions. The number of journals with target audiences either within or beyond the academy raises issues akin to the situation in the early days of print, when published works were primarily in Latin, with only 22 per cent in vernacular languages (Febvre and Martin 256), thereby strongly limiting access and reach to diverse audiences until the 17th century when Latin declined as the international language (Febvre and Martin 275) and there is a parallel to scholarly journal publishing and their changing readership(s). Diversity in audiences gradually developed in the early days of print, as Febvre and Martin (263) show by comparing the number of churchmen and lawyers with library collections in Paris: from 1480–1500 one lawyer and 24 churchmen had library collections, compared to 1551–1600, when 71 lawyers and 21 churchmen had library collections. Although the distinctions between present-day target audiences of Canadian scholarly journals (shown in Table 1, above) and 16th-century churchmen or lawyers no doubt are considerable, again there is a parallel with regard to changes in reading audiences. Similarly, the 18th-century increase in literacy rates, education, and technological advances finds a parallel in contemporary questions of computer literacy and access to scholarship (see Willinsky, “How,” Access, “Altering,” and If Only). Print culture historians and historians of science, as noted above, recognise that historically, while scholarly periodicals have increasingly specialised and popular periodicals have served as “important platforms for addressing a non-specialist but culturally powerful public…[and] fulfill[ing] important functions in making the claims of science heard among the ruling élite” (Dawson 11), there is adrift in current policies changes (and in the CALJ data above) a blurring of boundaries that harkens back to earlier days of print culture. As Adrian John reminded us earlier, “the very identity of print itself has had to be made” (2, italics in original) and the same applies to identities or cultures of print and the members of that culture: namely, the readers, the audience. The identities of the readers of scholarship are being made and re-made, as editorial mandates extend the scope of journals beyond strict, academic disciplinary boundaries and as increasing numbers of journals publish online (and open access). In Canada, changes in scholarly journal funding by the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council (SSHRC) of Canada (as well as changes in SSHRC funding for research more generally) place increasing focus on impact factors (an international trend) as well as increased attention on the public benefits and value of social sciences and humanities research and scholarship (see SSHRC 2004, 2005, 2006). There is much debate in the scholarly community in Canada about the implications and possibilities of the direction of the changing funding policies, not least among members of the scholarly journal community. As noted in the table above, most scholarly journal publishers in Canada are independently published, which brings advantages of autonomy but also the disadvantage of very limited budgets and there is a great deal of concern about the future of the journals, about their survival amidst the current changes. Although the future is uncertain, it is perhaps worthwhile to be reminded once again that contrary to doomsday sooth-saying that has come time and time again, publishing has not perished, but rather it has continued to transform. I am inclined against making normative statements about what the future of publishing should be, but, looking at the accounts historians have given of the past and looking at the current publishing community I have come to know in my work in publishing, I am confident that the resourcefulness and commitment of the publishing community shall prevail and, indeed, there appears to be a good deal of promise in the transformation of scholarly journals in the ways they reach their audiences and in what reaches those audiences. Perhaps, as is suggested by the Canadian Centre for Studies in Publishing (CCSP), the future is one of “inventing publishing.” References Canadian Association of Learned Journals. Member Database. 10 June 2008 ‹http://www.calj-acrs.ca/>. Canadian Centre for Studies in Publishing. 10 June 2008. ‹http://www.ccsp.sfu.ca/>. Censer, Jack. The French Press in the Age of Enlightenment. London: Routledge, 1994. Darnton, Robert, Estienne Roche. Revolution in Print: The Press in France, 1775–1800. Berkeley: U of California P, 1989. Dawson, Gowan, Richard Noakes, and Jonathan Topham. Introduction. Science in the Nineteenth-century Periodical: Reading the Magazine of Nature. Ed. Geoffrey Cantor, Gowan Dawson, Richard Noakes, and Jonathan Topham. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2004. 1–37. Eisenstein, Elizabeth. The Printing Revolution in Early Modern Europe. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1983 Feather, John. A History of British Publishing. New York: Routledge, 2006. Febvre, Lucien, and Henri-Jean Martin. The Coming of the Book: The Impact of Printing 1450–1800. London: N.L.B., 1979. Jacob, Margaret. Scientific Culture and the Making of the Industrial West. New York: Oxford UP, 1997. Johns, Adrian. The Nature of the Book: Print and Knowledge in the Making. Chicago: U of Chicago P, 1998. Hall, David, and Hugh Armory. The Colonial Book in the Atlantic World. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2000. Klancher, Jon. The Making of English Reading Audiences. Madison: U of Wisconsin P, 1987. Kronick, David. A History of Scientific and Technical Periodicals: The Origins and Development of the Scientific and Technological Press, 1665–1790. New York: Scarecrow Press, 1961. ---. "Devant le deluge" and Other Essays on Early Modern Scientific Communication. Lanham: Scarecrow Press, 2004. Lightman, Bernard. Victorian Science in Context. Chicago: U of Chicago P, 1997. Mitch, David. The Rise of Popular Literacy in Victorian England: The Influence of Private choice and Public Policy. Philadelphia: U of Pennsylvania P, 1991. Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council. Granting Council to Knowledge Council: Renewing the Social Sciences and Humanities in Canada, Volume 1, 2004. Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council. Granting Council to Knowledge Council: Renewing the Social Sciences and Humanities in Canada, Volume 3, 2005. Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council. Moving Forward As a Knowledge Council: Canada’s Place in a Competitive World. 2006. Steinberg, Sigfrid. Five Hundred Years of Printing. London: Oak Knoll Press, 1996. Willinsky, John. “How to be More of a Public Intellectual by Making your Intellectual Work More Public.” Journal of Curriculum and Pedagogy 3.1 (2006): 92–95. ---. The Access Principle: The Case for Open Access to Research and Scholarship. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 2006. ---. “Altering the Material Conditions of Access to the Humanities.” Ed. Peter Trifonas and Michael Peters. Deconstructing Derrida: Tasks for the New Humanities. London: Palgrave Macmillan, 2005. 118–36. ---. If Only We Knew: Increasing the Public Value of Social-Science Research. New York: Routledge, 2000.

Quan, Elizabeth. Beyond the Moongate: True Stories of 1920s China. Toronto: Tundra Books, 2013. Print.“Beyond the Moongate” is a reminiscence of two long-ago childhood years spent by the author as a young girl in her father’s hometown in inland China in the 1920s. This is probably an important book that has the potential to complicate history (i.e. make more interesting). I use “probably” and “potential” because a young reader likely would not pick up on these themes. A keen reader willing to question and explore further, however, is rewarded with a deeper understanding not only of Chinese history but also of Canadian history and the discipline of history itself.The “remote village in the south” is described as “not yet touched by technology” and many “pre-technology” examples are given such as brick stoves, wooden wash basins in the courtyard, oil lamps, “primitive machines,” and clothing “stitched entirely by hand.” This implies a contrast to more advanced technology elsewhere (if it was not unusual, why write about it?). Where was this “elsewhere”? Was it Canada in 1920? If so, it might reflect the social class of the author’s family since one can imagine similarly “pre-technology” conditions in parts of Canada at the same time. Or, the “elsewhere” might have been other parts of China – cities like Hong Kong or Shanghai. Or, is the author comparing technological expectations in the 21st-century to remind readers it has not always been so? These options (and more) are potential topics for interesting historical research into the “facts” of when technology arrived in various areas (or didn’t) and what this says about development.One could also explore the concept of “technology” itself. China is often described as the origin of many technologies we take for granted (e.g. paper, gunpowder, ceramics) and each story in this book features various technologies such as fabric for blouses and pants; lumber for houses and furniture; the cultivation of a variety of food; writing with ink, brushes, and paper. The issue then is not so much having technology but the effects of the availability of new or relatively advanced technologies.There are some rich social and cultural research possibilities, too. When they first arrive, the author’s father “kowtows” to his mother which makes her deeply happy. Kowtowing is fascinating because in English it has come to represent “groveling” or “giving in” (not deep respect) and has been the source of much diplomatic tension. Also, the author refers to the people of her ancestral land as the “Hans” which is not the whole story because there are various other “peoples” in China that mean deep discussions about Chinese identity even today.The story hopefully makes one rethink the status of immigrants in Canada. It is often assumed that immigrants to North America came and stayed because they were poor, had escaped poverty or tyranny, and it was impossible to go home (until modern times of cheap airfare). It is sometimes acknowledged that many people (some Chinese and Japanese that I know for sure) dreamed of becoming rich and going home or, at least, having their remains sent home after death. The idea that a whole family could afford to go back to China (or any homeland) for years in the 1920s might seem unusual to some readers. There is, however, much evidence that people came and went quite regularly although the issue of not getting permission to enter Canada (even if your parents and family were allowed) sadly led (and probably still leads) to many heart-breaking stories.The artwork that accompanies each story is brightly coloured and complements the text nicely giving visual representation of the written descriptions. I am curious whether it appeals to other readers because it has a feel (in the colours, lines, and facial expressions) that seems quite different than many other picture books. The author’s bio at the back highlights her watercolourist credentials and mentions a connection to Jack Pollack (not to be confused with Jackson Pollack).I think this is an important book that could be enjoyed by young readers in grades 3-6 but could also be used with older students in high-school or even university to problematize (and thus look beyond) the seemingly simple and factual stories. In fact, such a discussion might start with the subtitle itself by unpacking what the concept of “true stories” might mean.Recommended: 3 out of 4 stars Reviewer: David SulzDavid is a Public Services Librarian at University of Alberta and liaison librarian to Economics, Religious Studies, and Social Work. He has university studies in Library Studies, History, Elementary Education, Japanese, and Economics; he formerly taught in schools and museums. His interests include physical activity, music, home improvements, and above all, things Japanese.

As Earth heats up and water vapourises, “Adapt” is a word that is frequently invoked right now, in a world seething with change and challenge. Its Oxford English Dictionary definitions—“to fit, to make suitable; to alter so as to fit for a new use”—give little hint of the strangely divergent moral values associated with its use. There is, of course, the word’s unavoidable Darwinian connotations which, in spite of creationist controversy, communicate a cluster of positive values linked with progress. By contrast, the literary use of adapt is frequently linked with negative moral values. Even in our current “hyper-adaptive environment” (Rizzo)—in which a novel can become a theme park ride can become a film can become a computer game can become a novelisation—an adaptation is seen as a debasement of an original, inauthentic, inferior, parasitic (Hutcheon, 2-3). A starting point from which to explore the word’s “positive”—that is, evolutionary—use is the recently released Stern Review: The Economics of Climate Change, which argues the necessity of adapting in order to survive. Indeed, an entire section is titled “Policy responses for adaptation,” outlining—among other things—“an economic framework for adaptation”; “barriers and constraints to adaptation”; and “how developing countries can adapt to climate change” (403). Although evolution is not directly mentioned, it is evoked through the review’s analysis of a dire situation which compels humans to change in response to their changing environment. Yet the mere existence of the review, and its enumeration of problems and solutions, suggests that human adaptive abilities are up to the task, drawing on positive traits such as resilience, flexibility, agility, innovation, creativity, progressiveness, appropriateness, and so on. These values, and their connection to the evolutionary use of “adapt”, infuse 21st-century life. “Adapt,” “evolution”, and that cluster of values are entwined so closely that recalling effort is required to remind oneself that “adapt” existed before evolutionary theory. And whether or not one accepts the premise of evolution—or even understands it beyond the level of reductive popular science—it provides an irresistible metaphor that underlies areas as diverse as education, business, organisational culture, politics, and law. For example, Judith Robinson’s article “Education as the Foundation of the New Economy” quotes Canada’s former deputy prime minister John Manley: “The future holds nothing but change. … Charles Darwin said, ‘It is not the strongest of the species that survives, nor the most intelligent, but the most responsive to change.’” Robinson adds: “Education is how we equip our people with the ability to adapt to change.” Further examples show “adapt” as a positive metaphor for government. A study into towns in rural Queensland discovered that while some towns “have reinvented themselves and are thriving,” others “that are not innovative or adaptable” are in decline (Plowman, Ashkanasy, Gardner and Letts, 8). The Queensland Government’s Smart State Strategy also refers to the desirability of adapting: “The pace of change in the world is now so rapid—and sometimes so unpredictable—that our best prospects for maintaining our lead lie in our agility, flexibility and adaptability.” The Australian Government Department of Education, Science and Training, in setting national research priorities, identifies “An Environmentally Sustainable Australia” and in that context specifically mentions the need to adapt: “there needs to be an increased understanding of the contributions of human behaviour to environmental and climate change, and on [sic] appropriate adaptive responses and strategies.” In the corporate world, the Darwinian allusion is explicit in book titles such as Geoffrey Moore’s 2005 Dealing with Darwin: How Great Companies Innovate at Every Phase of their Evolution: “Moore’s theme is innovation, which he sees as being necessary to the survival of business as a plant or animal adapting to changes in habitat” (Johnson). Within organisations, the metaphor is also useful, for instance in D. Keith Denton’s article, “What Darwin Can Teach Us about Success:” “In order to understand how to create and manage adaptability, we need to look first at how nature uses it. … Species that fail to adapt have only one option left.” That option is extinction, which is the fate of “over 99% of all species that have ever existed.” However, any understanding of “adapt” as wholly positive and forward-moving is too simplistic. It ignores, for example, aspects of adaptation that are dangerous to people (such as the way the avian influenza virus or simian AIDS can adapt so that humans can become their hosts). Bacteria rapidly adapt to antibiotics; insects rapidly adapt to pesticides. Furthermore, an organism that is exquisitely adapted to a specific niche becomes vulnerable with even a small disturbance in its environment. The high attrition rate of species is breathtakingly “wasteful” and points to the limitations of the evolutionary metaphor. Although corporations and education have embraced the image, it is unthinkable that any corporation or educational system would countenance either evolution’s tiny adaptive adjustments over a long period of time, or the high “failure” rate. Furthermore, evolution can only be considered “progress” if there is an ultimate goal towards which evolution is progressing: the anthropocentric viewpoint that holds that “the logical and inevitable endpoint of the evolutionary process is the human individual,” as Rizzo puts it. This suggests that the “positive” values connected with this notion of “adapt” are a form of self-congratulation among those who consider themselves the “survivors”. A hierarchy of evolution-thought places “agile,” “flexible” “adaptors” at the top, while at the bottom of the hierarchy are “stagnant,” “atrophied” “non-adaptors”. The “positive” values then form the basis for exclusionary prejudices directed at those human and non-human beings seen as being “lower” on the evolutionary scale. Here we have arrived at Social Darwinism, the Great-Chain-of-Being perspective, Manifest Destiny—all of which still justify many kinds of unjust treatment of humans, animals, and ecosystems. Literary or artistic meanings of “adapt”—although similarly based on hierarchical thinking (Shiloh)—are, as mentioned earlier, frequently laden with negative moral values. Directly contrasting with the evolutionary adaptation we have just discussed, value in literary adaptation is attached to “being first” rather than to the success of successors. Invidious dichotomies that actually reverse the moral polarity of Darwinian adaptation come into play: “authentic” versus “fake”, “original” versus “copy”, “strong” versus “weak”, “superior” versus “inferior”. But, as the authors collected in this issue demonstrate, the assignment of a moral value to evolutionary “adapt”, and another to literary “adapt”, is too simplistic. The film Adaptation (Spike Jonze, 2002)—discussed in three articles in this issue—deals with both these uses of the word, and provides the impetus to these authors’ explorations of possible connections and contrasts between them. Evidence of the pervasiveness of the concept is seen in the work of other writers, who explore the same issues in a range of cultural phenomena, such as graffiti, music sampling, a range of activities in and around the film industry, and several forms of identity formation. A common theme is the utter inadequacy of a single moral value being assigned to “adapt”. For example, McMerrin quotes Ghandi in her paper: “Adaptability is not imitation. It means power of resistance and assimilation.” Shiloh argues: “If all texts quote or embed fragments of earlier texts, the notion of an authoritative literary source, which the cinematic version should faithfully reproduce, is no longer valid.” Furnica, citing Rudolf Arnheim, points out that an adaptation “increases our understanding of the adapted work.” All of which suggests that the application of “adapt” to circumstances of culture and nature suggests an “infinite onion” both of adaptations and of the “core samples of difference” that are the inevitable corollary of this issue’s theme. To drill down into the products of culture, to peel back the “facts” of nature, is only ever to encounter additional and increasingly minute variations of the activity of “adapt”. One never hits the bottom of difference and adaptation. Still, why would you want to, when the stakes of “adapt” might be little different from the stakes of life itself? At least, this is the insight that the philosophy of Gilles Deleuze—in all its rhizomatic variations—seems constantly to be leading us towards: “Life” (capitalised) is a continual germination that feeds on a thousand tiny adaptations of open-ended desire and of a ceaselessly productive mode of difference. Besides everything else that they do, all of the articles in this issue participate—in one way or another—in this notion of “adapt” as a constant impetus towards new configurations of culture and of nature. They are the proof (if such proof were to be requested or required) that the “infinite onion” of adaptation and difference, while certainly a mise en abyme, is much more a positive “placing into infinity” than a negative “placing into the abyss.” Adaptation is nothing to be feared; stasis alone spells death. What this suggests, furthermore, is that a contemporary ethics of difference and alterity might not go far wrong if it were to adopt “adapt” as its signature experience. To be ever more sensitive to the subtle nuances, to the evanescences on the cusp of nothingness … of adaptation … is perhaps to place oneself at the leading edge of cultural activity, where the boundaries of self and other have, arguably, never been more fraught. Again, all of the contributors to this issue dive—“Alice-like”—down their own particular rabbit holes, in order to bring back to the surface something previously unthought or unrecognised. However, two recent trends in the sciences and humanities—or rather at the complex intersection of these disciplines—might serve as useful, generalised frameworks for the work on “adapt” that this issue pursues. The first of these is the upwelling of interest (contra Darwinism) in the theories of Jean-Baptiste Lamarck (1744-1829). For Lamarck, adaptation takes a deviation from the Darwinian view of Natural Selection. Lamarckism holds, in distinction from Darwin, that the characteristics acquired by individuals in the course of their (culturally produced) lifetimes can be transmitted down the generations. If your bandy-legged great-grandfather learnt to bend it like Beckham, for example, then Manchester United would do well to sign you up in the cradle. Lamarck’s ideas are an encouragement to gather up, for cultural purposes, ever more refined understandings of “adapt”. What this pro-Lamarckian movement also implies is a new “crossing-over point” of the natural/biological with the cultural/acquired. The second trend to be highlighted here, however, does more than merely imply such a refreshed configuration of nature and culture. Elizabeth Grosz’s recent work directly calls the bluff of the traditional Darwinian (not to mention Freudian) understanding of “biology as destiny”. In outline form, we propose that she does this by running together notions of biological difference (the male/female split) with the “ungrounded” difference of Deleuzean thinking and its derivatives. Adaptation thus shakes free, on Grosz’s reading, from the (Darwinian and Freudian) vestiges of biological determinism and becomes, rather, a productive mode of (cultural) difference. Grosz makes the further move of transporting such a “shaken and stirred” version of biological difference into the domains of artistic “excess”, on the basis that “excessive” display (as in the courting rituals of the male peacock) is fundamentally crucial to those Darwinian axioms centred on the survival of the species. By a long route, therefore, we are returned, through Grosz, to the interest in art and adaptation that has, for better or for worse, tended to dominate studies of “adapt”, and which this issue also touches upon. But Grosz returns us to art very differently, which points the way, perhaps, to as yet barely recognised new directions in the field of adaptation studies. We ask, then, where to from here? Responding to this question, we—the editors of this issue—are keen to build upon the groundswell of interest in 21st-century adaptation studies with an international conference, entitled “Adaptation & Application”, to be held on the Gold Coast, Queensland, Australia in early 2009. The “Application” part of this title reflects, among other things, the fact that our conference will be, perhaps uniquely, itself an example of “adapt”, to the extent that it will have two parallel but also interlocking strands: adaptation; application. Forward-thinking architects Arakawa and Gins have expressed an interest in being part of this event. (We also observe, in passing, that “application”, or “apply”, may be an excellent theme for a future issue of M/C Journal…) Those interested in knowing more about the “Adaptation and Application” conference may contact either of us on the email addresses given in our biographical notes. There are several groups and individuals that deserve public acknowledgement here. Of course, we thank the authors of these fourteen articles for their stimulating and reflective contributions to the various debates around “adapt”. We would also like to acknowledge the hugely supportive efforts of our hard-pressed referees. Equally, our gratitude goes out to those respondents to our call for papers whose submissions could not be fitted into this already overflowing issue. What they sent us kept the standard high, and many of the articles rejected for publication on this occasion will, we feel sure, soon find a wider audience in another venue (the excellent advice provided by our referees has an influence, in this way, beyond the life of this issue). We also wish to offer a very special note of thanks to Linda Hutcheon, who took time out from her exceptionally busy schedule to contribute the feature article for this issue. Her recent monograph A Theory of Adaptation is essential reading for all serious scholars of “adapt”, as is her contribution here. We are honoured to have Professor Hutcheon’s input into our project. Special thanks are also due to Gold-Coast based visual artist Judy Anderson for her “adaptation of adaptation” into a visual motif for our cover image. This inspiring piece is entitled “Between Two” (2005; digital image on cotton paper). Accessing experiences perhaps not accessible through words alone, Anderson’s image nevertheless “speaks adaptation”, as her Artist’s Statement suggests: The surface for me is a sensual encounter; an event, shifting form. As an eroticised site, it evokes memories of touch. … Body, object, place are woven together with memory; forgetting and remembering. The tactility and materiality of touching the surface is offered back to the viewer. These images are transitions themselves. As places of slippage and adaptation, they embody intervals on many levels; between the material and the immaterial, the familiar and the strange. Their source remains obscure so that they might represent spaces in-between—overlooked places that open up unexpectedly. If we have learned just one thing from the experience of editing the M/C Journal ‘adapt’ issue, it is that our theme richly rewards the sort of intellectual and creative activity demonstrated by our contributors. Much has been done here; much remains to be done. Some of this work will take place, no doubt, at the “Adaptation and Application” conference, and we hope to see many of you on the Gold Coast in 2009. But for now, it’s over to you, to engage with what you might encounter here, and to work new “adaptations” upon it. References Australian Government Department of Education, Science and Training. Environmentally Sustainable Australia. 2005. 28 Apr. 2007 http://www.dest.gov.au/sectors/research_sector/policies_issues_reviews /key_issues/national_research_priorities/priority_goals /environmentally_sustainable_australia.htm>. Deleuze, Gilles, and Félix Guattari. A Thousand Plateaux. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1987. Denton, D Keith. “What Darwin Can Teach Us about Success.” Development and Learning in Organizations 20.1 (2006): 7ff. Furnica, Ioana. “Subverting the ‘Good, Old Tune’: Carlos Saura’s Carmen Adaptation.” M/C Journal 10.2 (2007). 28 Apr. 2007 . Grosz, Elizabeth. In the Nick of Time: Politics, Evolution and the Untimely. Durham: Duke University Press, 2004. Grosz, Elizabeth. “Sensation”. Plenary III Session. 9th Annual Comparative Literature Conference. Gilles Deleuze: Texts and Images: An International Conference. University of South Carolina, Columbia. 7 April 2007. Grosz, Elizabeth. Time Travels: Feminism, Nature, Power. Durham: Duke University Press, 2005. Hutcheon, Linda. A Theory of Adaptation. New York and London: Routledge, 2006. Johnson, Cecil. “Darwinian Notions of Corporate Innovation,” Boston Globe, 15 Jan. 2006: L.2. McMerrin, Michelle. “Agency in Adaptation.” M/C Journal 10.2 (2007). 28 Apr. 2007 http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0705/03 mcmerrin.php mcmerrin.php>. Neimanis, Astrida. “A Feminist Deleuzian Politics? It’s About Time.” TOPIA: Canadian Journal of Cultural Studies 16 (2006): 154-8. Plowman, Ian, Neal M. Ashkanasy, John Gardner, and Malcolm Letts. Innovation in Rural Queensland: Why Some Towns Thrive while Others Languish: Main Report. University of Queensland/Department of Primary Industries. Queensland, Dec. 2003. 28 Apr. 2007 http://www2.dpi.qld.gov.au/business/14778.html>. Queensland Government. Smart State Strategy 2005-2015 Timeframe. 2007. 28 Apr. 2007 http://www.smartstate.qld.gov.au/strategy/strategy05_15/timeframes.shtm>. Rizzo, Sergio. “Adaptation and the Art of Survival.” M/C Journal 10.2 (2007). 28 Apr. 2007 http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0705/02-rizzo.php>. Shiloh, Ilana. “Adaptation, Intertextuality, and the Endless Deferral of Meaning: Memento.” M/C Journal 10.2 (2007). 28 Apr. 2007 http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0705/08-shiloh.php>. Stern Review: The Economics of Climate Change. 2006. 28 Apr. 2007 http://www.hm-treasury.gov.uk/independent_reviews/stern_review_ economics_climate_change/stern_review_report.cfm>. Citation reference for this article MLA Style Delamoir, Jeannette, and Patrick West. 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The mediocre teacher tells. The good teacher explains. The superior teacher demonstrates. The great teacher inspires. — William Arthur WardIntroductionThe first documented use of the term Mentor can be traced back to the 8th century BC poem by Homer entitled Odyssey (Hay, Gerber and Minichiello). Although this original representation of Mentor is contested in the literature (Colley), historically the term mentor has evolved to imply a wise and trusted other who advises, teaches, protects and supports someone younger who is inexperienced and not so knowledgeable with the ways of the world. The mentor within a 21st century construct still aligns to this historical portrayal, however the evolution of society, the influence of technology, the growth of entrepreneurship, and a greater understanding of the impact of our interactions with others has forced us to consider mentoring in contemporary ways. As such, popular culture, through books, film and images, provide many impressions of the mentor and what it means to mentor in both historical and contemporary circumstances. Similarly, popular culture provides us with a variety of impressions of the teacher. Throughout old and new history, teaching is considered to be a honourable profession, one that is complex and involves specific skills and knowledge to be effective (Marsh). Society has high expectations of teachers as they are entrusted with shaping the future generation (Parkay). Although the levels of respect and trust of teachers changes within different cultural circumstances, society allows teachers to be one of the most influential figures in a child’s life. Popular film often picks up on this theme and portrays teachers as inspirational figures, pillars of society and those that can have a major influence over the development of the student’s in their care. Within the brief story that a film provides, teachers are more often than not, positioned as a ‘mentor type’ figure to the students entrusted in their care, who guides and supports them to become who they want to be. This paper explores the constructs of the mentor and mentorship through a popular culture lens. Culture is broadly described as the “bricks and mortar of our most commonplace understandings” (Willis 185) and our understandings are shaped by what we see, hear and do. The paper is framed by and seeks to answer the following question: To what extent is the teacher as mentor portrayed in popular film a realistic image? Accordingly this paper will examine the rise of the teacher as mentor and determine what images are portrayed through the medium of film. In order to answer the question, the paper will briefly examine current literature for the characteristics and roles of mentors and teachers. The paper will then delve into the way that teachers are portrayed in film and will be followed by an examination of a selection of films that portray teachers as mentors. A comparison will be made between the characteristics of mentors and the characteristics that the movie teachers display. Analysis through the use of reader-response theory will provide insight into the extent of the reality of the teacher as mentor that are portrayed. Mentors and Teachers: A Review of Selected Literature Mentoring consists of a series of interactions that can be of a social, intellectual or emotional nature (Lentz and Allen). Mentoring can be described as a helping relationship whereby two or more people work together in order to achieve personal and professional goals (Johnson and Ridley). Effective mentoring is also known to be mutually beneficial to all participants (Ambrosetti, Knight and Dekkers). When scanning the literature there are a number of common descriptors that are used consistently to situate the interactions a mentor undertakes: supporter, guide, advisor, teacher, protector and counselor (Sundli; Hall et al.). Such descriptors indicate that a mentor performs a series of roles that change according to the needs of those being mentored (Ambrosetti and Dekkers). If the mentor has a series of roles to perform, then it is logical that the mentee also will also have a number of roles to play, however these are lnot well documented in the literature. The roles that both mentors and mentees play during a relationship can be identified and underpinned through the three dimensions of mentoring: the relationship itself, the developmental needs of the participants and the integration of the context in which the mentoring is situated (Ambrosetti, Knight and Dekkers). The interactions that a mentor engages in with a mentee span over a number of dimensions and are often reactive in nature. The three dimensions of mentoring can assist in describing a mentor and the roles they play. The relational dimension includes such roles as supporter, protector, friend and counselor. The roles of guide, teacher/trainer, collaborator, facilitator and reflector can be classified as developmental whereas being a role model can be both a developmental role and contextual role (230). There are a number of characteristics that are common to a mentor. Johnson and Ridley summarize them to include the following traits: exuding warmth, listening actively, showing unconditional regard, tolerating idealization, embracing humor, not expecting perfection, being trustworthy, having interpersonal competence, respecting another’s values and not being jealous of the mentee (43-62). The above list of traits are personal and often linked to personality, thus can be connected explicitly to the relational dimension of mentoring. The possession (or non-possession) of such traits can impact on the interactions that occur within mentorship. Accordingly it can be assumed that the characteristics, in conjunction with the roles that mentors play, that not everyone is suited to the role of mentor. Most people have experienced schooling at some stage in their life and is therefore familiar with the role of a teacher. Teaching is one most well known professions and can be described as a “creative act in which teachers continually shape and reshape lessons, events and the experiences of their students”(Parkay 45). The role of a teacher is to teach both knowledge and skills to their learners in order to prepare them as citizens for the future. More specifically, the role of the teacher is to design and deliver learning experiences that cater for and challenge the learners, that develop skills and knowledge both inside and outside of the classroom, and help them become confident, creative and responsible citizens. Despite this important role, the image of teachers is split between two types: one that is bitter, spiteful and egocentric, and the other being caring, accepting and reflective (Connell). We remember teachers according to such categories. The types of characteristics that teachers hold are extensive, however the following encompasses those that are key within the literature. Teachers generally have compassion, empathy and a caring nature. They can be flexible, creative, personable, humorous, positive, knowledgeable, motivational and dependable. Teachers are often well organised people, fair minded and resourceful (Howell). When examining the characteristics of teachers and the traits of mentors, similarities can be seen indicating that a particular type of person may be more suited to being a teacher and/or mentor. Teachers as Mentors in Film Teachers seem to be a popular subject of feature films. Films such as Goodbye Mr Chips (1939), Blackboard Jungle (1955) and To Sir with Love (1967) provide us with insight into the way teachers are portrayed in society and the role they play. Film however, has the specific ability to shape the cultural understanding we develop and allows us to make comparisons to our own experiences and those that are played out in fictional circumstances (Delamarter). While there are some films that provide a negative portrayal of teachers, generally they provide a view that teachers are positive influences on the students in their care.A search of the World Wide Web about the teacher as mentor brings up a treasure trove of film titles that span from the 1930s to the present day. Despite such a choice of titles, the following films have been selected to examine in this paper: Dead Poets Society (1989), Dangerous Minds (1995), Freedom Writers (2007) and the Harry Potter series of films (2001-2011). Selection of these films was based on the following two criteria: 1) they occurred within in a school setting and 2) are embedded within a contemporary theme of struggle where rebellion and/or other teenage angst are highlighted. Reader-response theory will underpin the analysis of the teachers in each of the films selected, so that an answer to the earlier posed question can be illuminated. Broadly speaking, reader-response theory is concerned with how readers, or in this case viewers, “make meaning from their experience with the text” (Beach 1). There are many perspectives on reader-response theory and how one might focus upon when responding to a text. In this instance the author will highlight the transaction that occurs between the reader, the text and the context. The transactions will include the social, cultural, experiential, psychological and textual viewpoints (Beach 8). Firstly, each film will be briefly described. This will be followed by an analysis of the teachers portrayed in the films. Dead Poets Society (1989) is set at a conservative secondary boys academy in the late 1950s and focuses on a group of students completing their senior year. Mr Keating is a new English teacher who uses unconventional teaching methods in the classroom. He inspires his students to ‘seize the day’ and ‘make your lives extraordinary’ and does this through the teaching of poetry. He encourages them to stand on desks during his lessons and to throw out tradition. It is Keating’s messages to his students to question what they believe that permeates the film and inspires his students to pursue what they want to do and become. The film Dangerous Minds (1995) is set in a low socio-economic area, where un-privilege and protecting yourself is a way of life. The teacher in this film is new and young, but is an ex US Marine. The class the film centres on is a difficult one to teach. This teacher uses unorthodox methods to gain the attention and trust of her students. The film makes a point to show us that she makes particular effort to relate the curriculum to the students’ interests in order to engage them in learning. Emphasis is also on the fact that she takes an interest in the students and many become her ‘personal projects’ and helping them to realize who they can become. Freedom Writers (2007) is set in the years directly following the Los Angeles riots of 1992 whereby issues of racism, segregation and inequality along with the changing view of the world is the focus. The students in the classrooms of this film are from diverse backgrounds and un-trusting of the education system. Their teacher is new and young and her first attempts to earn their trust fail until she begins to get to know the students and make links between what is being taught to their own lives. She inspires her class to learn tolerance, apply themselves and pursue further education. In the Harry Potter (2001-2011) series of films, there are several teachers who make an impact upon the young wizards. Although set in a fantasy world, the audience is treated to both inspirational teachers looking to nurture, protect and develop their charges, and teachers who are painted as egocentric and suspicious. Inspirational teachers include Dumbledore and McGonagall who offer subtle life lessons, specific skills and knowledge and protect the young wizards from danger. Egocentric and somewhat suspicious teachers include Snape and Quirrell who look to thwart the wizard’s time at school, however they too offer subtle life lessons to their students. The theme of good versus evil is paramount throughout the film series and the teachers are aligned with this theme.Teachers as Mentors – An AnalysisAlthough only a brief description of each film has been offered, the teachers as mentors to their students is the focus. Mr Keating (Dead Poets Society) and LouAnne Johnson (Dangerous Minds) are both described as unorthodox as they each use teaching methods that are frowned upon by others. However their purposeful and different teaching methods draw their students into their lessons so that life learning can occur. In each film, the unorthodox teaching touches the students in ways unknown to them before and in both cases the students demonstrate intellectual and personal growth. The unorthodox methods provide an avenue for a different relationship that is far from the traditional. In some scenes friendship is hinted at where guiding and supporting the students towards their hopes and dreams is highlighted. Aspects of mentoring can be seen through relational, developmental and contextual domains as the students are supported, guided and provided explicit role modeling. The young teacher in Freedom Writers, Erin Gruwell, uses a teaching approach that includes taking time to get to know her students. This approach, like Keating and Johnson, provides the opportunity to tweak the curriculum to the interests of the students and thus engage them in academic learning. They teach skills and knowledge in ways which relate to the students’ lives and interests. They guide, support the students towards the unfamiliar and facilitate opportunities for success. They help them to set goals and make them realise that they have a future and can be successful in their lives. The transformations that occur due to the teaching approaches used by the teachers cause their students admire and want to be like them. In Harry Potter, teachers Dumbledore and McGonagall are wise in years and life experience. They offer wisdom, protection and guidance to the young wizards throughout the series. These teachers, like Keating, Johnson and Gruwell, are role models in that they represent what life can be like and how best to achieve that life. Snape and Quirell also take an interest in their students, but represent an alternative view of life and learning. The difference between the four Harry Potter teachers can be drilled down to the traits of effective teachers. Two of which emulate the traits and two whom do not readily display any of the traits. Dumbledore and McGonagall can be considered as teacher mentors whereas Snape and Quirell cannot. In each film the student can be seen as central to the teacher as mentor and this in turn influences the way in which they behave. The teachers in these films pass on life lessons through their teaching. Throughout the films the teachers are guiding, supporting, befriending, protecting and training their charges. Interactions that occur between the teachers and the students are followed by a reflective phase by the teachers, whereby solutions to problems are sought or self-realisation occurs. In many instances the films show the teacher learning from the student and thus learning their own life lessons through reflection. From a social and cultural perspective, what is portrayed within the storylines are often close to the reality of what is expected from teachers. In many instances these lead towards a stereotyping of who teachers are and how they behave. However, from an experiential point of view, our expectations of the actions that teachers undertake do not usually take such form. In reality, teachers are busy people with a complex job to do (Connell) and often do not have time to take personal interest in all of their students individually. The teachers within the films chosen seem to have one class to prepare for, whereas in reality, a school teacher will have many classes to consider. Psychologically, some teachers and the style they embrace appeal to a particular a type of student or group of students. In the case of Dead Poets Society, Dangerous Minds and Freedom Writers, the storyline painted the students as those needing a particular type of teacher, someone who would save them from their circumstance and visa versa. The textual perspective was well highlighted by the teachers in the Harry Potter films as the viewer expects to see teachers with rather unusual but interesting teaching styles. However the text (within all films) included insight into mentor characteristics such as warmth, humour, tolerance, respect and unconditional regards. Generally, the films examined highlight two different types of teachers, challenging the categories written about by Connell. The first type of teacher highlighted was one who was seen as being more contemporary. One who is individual, unorthodox, and maybe a little rebellious; this teacher highlights that you need to be ‘different’ to make a difference. The second type was one who aligns to the traditional form of teacher; one who uses their knowledge, wisdom and life experience to break through to their student. Each of the films were underpinned by the relationship, the developmental needs and the context in which the narrative was played out, however the relationship between the students and the teacher was highlighted as being central to the storyline. Thus films of this nature often portray teachers as those who help their students in the emotional sense rather than the intellectual sense (Delamarter). Conclusion Several understandings about the teacher as mentor have been brought to light through the examination of the teacher as mentor in film. Firstly, in revisiting the mentoring definitions offered within this paper, it can be said that the teachers highlighted in the discussed films were mentoring their students in a way unique to the relationship developed between teacher and student. In each instance the teacher worked with their students to identify teaching approaches that would be successful in the context in which they were situated. Each film demonstrated that the teachers were committed to creating a relationship that met the developmental needs of their students. Interestingly, it was observed that the relationships were mutually beneficial in that the teachers grew along with the students with many coming to realisations about themselves through reflection and self thought. Secondly, the teachers within the films were portrayed as playing several important roles within their students’ lives. The teachers were role models inside and outside of the classroom. Each film’s storyline positioned the teacher as an influential other, whether they be portrayed as rebellious and unorthodox, evil and suspicious or inspirational and wise. The teachers in these films can be considered as mentors as they were supporting, guiding, protecting and nurturing the students to become better versions of themselves. However, the question that this article sought to answer was: to what extent is the teacher as mentor portrayed in popular film a realistic image? In looking back at the image the teacher in society and the role that they play in developing citizens of the future, it can be said the image presented has slivers of realism. In the real world, teachers must conform to society’s expectations, educational policies and codes of professionalism. Professional relationships with students do not encompass them in behave a student as a ‘personal project’, although catering to their needs is encouraged within the curriculum. It would be thought that if teachers did not encourage their students to be the best they can be, then they would not be doing their job. Many figures throughout our cultural history have been viewed as a mentor due to the role they play and how these roles align to societal beliefs and values. Thus, the portrayal of mentors and mentorship through a popular culture lens provides insight into our understanding about what mentorship is and how this may develop in the future. Both in the past and present, teachers are seen as inspirational figures and pillars of society, and are often considered a mentor by default. Films portray teachers in a variety of fashions, however there are many films that subtly position the teacher as a mentor to their students and it is this that this article has focused on. ReferencesAmbrosetti, Angelina, and John Dekkers. “The Interconnectedness of the Roles of Mentors and Mentees in Pre-Service Teacher Education Mentoring Relationships.” Australian Journal of Teacher Education 35.6 (2010): 42-55.Ambrosetti, Angelina, Bruce Allen Knight, and John Dekkers. “Maximizing the Potential of Mentoring: A Framework for Pre-Service Teacher Education.” Mentoring and Tutoring: Partnership in Learning 22.3 (2014): 224-39.Beach, Richard. A Teacher’s Response to Reader-Response Theories. Illinois: National Council Teachers of English, 1993.Blackboard Jungle. Directed by Richard Brooks. Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1955.Colley, Helen. “Righting Rewritings of the Myth of Mentor: A Critical Perspective on Career Guidance Mentoring.” British Journal of Guidance & Counselling 29.2 (2001): 177-197.Connell, Raewyn. “Teachers.” Education, Change and Society. Eds. Raewyn Connell, Anthony Welch, Margaret Vickers, Dennis Foley, Nigel Bagnall, Debra Hayes, Helen Proctor, Arathi Sriprakash, and Craig Campbell. South Melbourne: Oxford, 2013. 261-275.Dangerous Minds. Directed by John N. Smith. Hollywood Pictures/Don Simpson/Jerry Bruckheimer Films/Via Rosa Productions, 1995.Dead Poets Society. Directed by Peter Weir. Touchstone Pictures/Silver Screen Partners IV, 1989.Delamater, Jeremy. “Avoiding Practice Shock: Using Teacher Movies to Realign Pre-Service Teachers’ Expectations of Teaching.” Australian Journal of Teacher Education 40.2 (2015): 1-14.Freedom Writers. Directed by Richard LaGravenese. Paramount Pictures, 2007.Goodbye Mr Chips. Directed by Sam Wood. Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Denham Studios, 1939.Hall, Kendra M., Rani Jo Draper, Leigh K. Smith, and Robert V. Bullough. “More than a Place to Teach: Exploring the Perceptions of the Roles and Responsibilities of Mentor Teachers.” Mentoring and Tutoring: Partnership in Learning 16.3 (2008): 328-45.Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone. Directed by Chris Columbus. Heyday Films/1492 Pictures, 2001.Hay, Terence, Rod Gerber, and Victor Minichiello. “Mentorship: A Review of the Concept.” Unicorn 25.2 (1999): 84-95.Howell, Jennifer. Teaching and Learning: Building Effective Pedagogies. South Melbourne, Vic.: Oxford University Press, 2014.Lentz, Elizabeth, and Tammy D. Allen. “Reflections on Naturally Occurring Mentoring Relationships.” The Blackwell Handbook of Mentoring: A Multiple Perspectives Approach. Eds. Tammy D. Allen and Lillian T. Eby. Malden, MA: Blackwell, 2007. 159-162.Johnson, W. Brad, and Charles R. Ridley. The Elements of Mentoring. New York, NY: Palgrave Macmillan, 2004. Marsh, Colin. Becoming a Teacher: Knowledge Skills and Issues. 5th ed. Frenchs Forest Pearson, 2010.Parkay, Forrest W. Becoming a Teacher. 9th ed. Upper Saddle River, NJ: Pearson.Sundli, Liv. “Mentoring: A New Mantra for Education?” Teaching and Teacher Education 23 (2007): 201-14.To Sir with Love. Directed by James Clavell. Columbia British Productions, 1967.Willis, Paul. “Shop-Floor Culture, Masculinity and the Wage Form.” Working Class Culture: Studies in History and Theory. Eds. John Clarke, Chas Critcher, and Richard Johnson. Abingdon, Oxon: Routledge, 2007. 185-200.

The traditional German tale of the Pied Piper of Hamelin inhabits an ambiguous narrative borderland, a liminal space between fact and fiction, fantasy and horror, concrete details and elusive mystery. In his study of the Pied Piper in Tradition and Innovation in Folk Literature, Wolfgang Mieder describes how manuscripts and other evidence appear to confirm the historical base of the story. Precise details from a fifteenth-century manuscript, based on earlier sources, specify that in 1284 on the 26th of June, the feast-day of Saints John and Paul, 130 children from Hamelin were led away by a piper clothed in many colours to the Koppen Hill, and there vanished (Mieder 48). Later manuscripts add details familiar today, such as a plague of rats and a broken bargain with burghers as a motive for the Piper’s actions, while in the seventeenth century the first English-language version advances what might also be the first attempt at a “rational” explanation for the children’s disappearance, claiming that they were taken to Transylvania. The uncommon pairing of such precise factual detail with enigmatic mystery has encouraged many theories. These have ranged from references to the Children’s Crusade, or other religious fervours, to the devastation caused by the Black Death, from the colonisation of Romania by young German migrants to a murderous rampage by a paedophile. Fictional interpretations of the story have multiplied, with the classic versions of the Brothers Grimm and Robert Browning being most widely known, but with contemporary creators exploring the theme too. This includes interpretations in Hamelin itself. On 26 June 2015, in Hamelin Museum, I watched a wordless five-minute play, entirely performed not by humans but by animatronic stylised figures built out of scrap iron, against a montage of multilingual, confused voices and eerie music, with the vanished children represented by a long line of small empty shirts floating by. The uncanny, liminal nature of the story was perfectly captured. Australia is a world away from German fairy tale mysteries, historically, geographically, and culturally. Yet, as Lisa M. Fiander has persuasively argued, contemporary Australian fiction has been more influenced by fairy tales than might be assumed, and in this essay it is proposed that major motifs from the Pied Piper appear in several Australian novels, transformed not only by distance of setting and time from that of the original narrative, but also by elements specific to the Australian imaginative space. These motifs are lost children, the enigmatic figure of the Piper himself, and the power of a very particular place (as Hamelin and its Koppen Hill are particularised in the original tale). Three major Australian novels will be examined in this essay: Joan Lindsay’s Picnic at Hanging Rock (1967), Christopher Koch’s The Doubleman (1985), and Ursula Dubosarsky’s The Golden Day (2011). Dubosarsky’s novel was written for children; both Koch’s and Lindsay’s novels were published as adult fiction. In each of these works of fiction, the original tale’s motifs have been developed and transformed to express unique evocations of the Pied Piper theme. As noted by Fiander, fiction writers are “most likely to draw upon fairy tales when they are framing, in writing, a subject that generates anxiety in their culture” (158). Her analysis is about anxieties of place within Australian fiction, but this insight could be usefully extended to the motifs which I have identified as inherent in the Pied Piper story. Prominent among these is the lost children motif, whose importance in the Australian imagination has been well-established by scholars such as Peter Pierce. Pierce’s The Country of Lost Children: An Australian Anxiety explores this preoccupation from the earliest beginnings of European settlement, through analysis of fiction, newspaper reports, paintings, and films. As Pierce observed in a later interview in the Sydney Morning Herald (Knox), over time the focus changed from rural children and the nineteenth-century fear of the vast impersonal nature of the bush, where children of colonists could easily get lost, to urban children and the contemporary fear of human predators.In each of the three novels under examination in this essay, lost children—whether literal or metaphorical—feature prominently. Writer Carmel Bird, whose fiction has also frequently centred on the theme of the lost child, observes in “Dreaming the Place” that the lost child, the stolen child – this must be a narrative that is lodged in the heart and imagination, nightmare and dream, of all human beings. In Australia the nightmare became reality. The child is the future, and if the child goes, there can be no future. The true stories and the folk tales on this theme are mirror images of each other. (7) The motif of lost children—and of children in danger—is not unique to the Pied Piper. Other fairy tales, such as Hansel and Gretel and Little Red Riding Hood, contain it, and it is those antecedents which Bird cites in her essay. But within the Pied Piper story it has three features which distinguish it from other traditional tales. First, unlike in the classic versions of Hansel and Gretel or Red Riding Hood, the children do not return. Neither are there bodies to find. The children have vanished into thin air, never to be seen again. Second, it is not only parents who have lost them, but an entire community whose future has been snatched away: a community once safe, ordered, even complacent, traumatised by loss. The lack of hope, of a happy ending for anyone, is striking. And thirdly, the children are not lost or abandoned or even, strictly speaking, stolen: they are lured away, semi-willingly, by the central yet curiously marginal figure of the Piper himself. In the original story there is no mention of motive and no indication of malice on the part of the Piper. There is only his inexplicable presence, a figure out of fairy folklore appearing in the midst of concrete historical dates and numbers. Clearly, he links to the liminal, complex world of the fairies, found in folklore around the world—beings from a world close to the human one, yet alien. Whimsical and unpredictable by human standards, such beings are nevertheless bound by mysteriously arbitrary rules and taboos, and haunt the borders of the human world, disturbing its rational edges and transforming lives forever. It is this sense of disturbance, that enchanting yet frightening sudden shifting of the border of reality and of the comforting order of things, the essence of transformation itself, which can also be seen at the core of the three novels under examination in this essay, with the Piper represented in each of them but in different ways. The third motif within the Pied Piper is a focus on place as a source of uncanny power, a theme which particularly resonates within an Australian context. Fiander argues that if contemporary British fiction writers use fairy tale to explore questions of community and alienation, and Canadian fiction writers use it to explore questions of identity, then Australian writers use it to explore the unease of place. She writes of the enduring legacy of Australia’s history “as a settler colony which invests the landscape with strangeness for many protagonists” (157). Furthermore, she suggests that “when Australian fiction writers, using fairy tales, describe the landscape as divorced from reality, they might be signalling anxiety about their own connection with the land which had already seen tens of thousands of years of occupation when Captain James Cook ‘found’ it in 1770” (160). I would argue, however, that in the case of the Pied Piper motifs, it is less clear that it is solely settler anxieties which are driving the depiction of the power of place in these three novels. There is no divorce from reality here, but rather an eruption of the metaphysical potency of place within the usual, “normal” order of reality. This follows the pattern of the original tale, where the Piper and all the children, except for one or two stragglers, disappear at Koppen Hill, vanishing literally into the hill itself. In traditional European folklore, hollow hills are associated with fairies and their uncanny power, but other places, especially those of water—springs, streams, even the sea—may also be associated with their liminal world (in the original tale, the River Weser is another important locus for power). In Joan Lindsay’s Picnic at Hanging Rock, it is another outcrop in the landscape which holds that power and claims the “lost children.” Inspired partly by a painting by nineteenth-century Australian artist William Ford, titled At the Hanging Rock (1875), depicting a group of elegant people picnicking in the bush, this influential novel, which inspired an equally successful film adaptation, revolves around an incident in 1900 when four girls from Appleyard College, an exclusive school in Victoria, disappear with one of their teachers whilst climbing Hanging Rock, where they have gone for a picnic. Only one of their number, a girl called Irma, is ever found, and she has no memory of how and why she found herself on the Rock, and what has happened to the others. This inexplicable event is the precursor to a string of tragedies which leads to the violent deaths of several people, and which transforms the sleepy and apparently content little community around Appleyard College into a centre of loss, horror, and scandal.Told in a way which makes it appear that the novelist is merely recounting a true story—Lindsay even tells readers in an author’s note that they must decide for themselves if it is fact or fiction—Picnic at Hanging Rock shares the disturbingly liminal fact-fiction territory of the Piper tale. Many readers did in fact believe that the novel was based on historical events and combed newspaper files, attempting to propound ingenious “rational” explanations for what happened on the Rock. Picnic at Hanging Rock has been the subject of many studies, with the novel being analysed through various prisms, including the Gothic, the pastoral, historiography, and philosophy. In “Fear and Loathing in the Australian Bush,” Kathleen Steele has depicted Picnic at Hanging Rock as embodying the idea that “Ordered ‘civilisation’ cannot overcome the gothic landscapes of settler imaginations: landscapes where time and people disappear” (44). She proposes that Lindsay intimates that the landscape swallows the “lost children” of the novel because there is a great absence in that place: that of Aboriginal people. In this reading of the novel, it is that absence which becomes, in a sense, a malevolent presence that will reach out beyond the initial disappearance of the three people on the Rock to destroy the bonds that held the settler community together. It is a powerfully-made argument, which has been taken up by other scholars and writers, including studies which link the theme of the novel with real-life lost-children cases such as that of Azaria Chamberlain, who disappeared near another “Rock” of great Indigenous metaphysical potency—Uluru, or Ayers Rock. However, to date there has been little exploration of the fairy tale quality of the novel, and none at all of the striking ways in which it evokes Pied Piper motifs, whilst transforming them to suit the exigencies of its particular narrative world. The motif of lost children disappearing from an ordered, safe, even complacent community into a place of mysterious power is extended into an exploration of the continued effects of those disappearances, depicting the disastrous impact on those left behind and the wider community in a way that the original tale does not. There is no literal Pied Piper figure in this novel, though various theories are evoked by characters as to who might have lured the girls and their teacher, and who might be responsible for the disappearances. Instead, there is a powerful atmosphere of inevitability and enchantment within the landscape itself which both illustrates the potency of place, and exemplifies the Piper’s hold on his followers. In Picnic at Hanging Rock, place and Piper are synonymous: the Piper has been transformed into the land itself. Yet this is not the “vast impersonal bush,” nor is it malevolent or vengeful. It is a living, seductive metaphysical presence: “Everything, if only you could see it clearly enough, is beautiful and complete . . .” (Lindsay 35). Just as in the original tale, the lost children follow the “Piper” willingly, without regret. Their disappearance is a happiness to them, in that moment, as it is for the lost children of Hamelin, and quite unlike how it must be for those torn apart by that loss—the community around Appleyard, the townspeople of Hamelin. Music, long associated with fairy “takings,” is also a subtle feature of the story. In the novel, just before the luring, Irma hears a sound like the beating of far-off drums. In the film, which more overtly evokes fairy tale elements than does the novel, it is noteworthy that the music at that point is based on traditional tunes for Pan-pipes, played by the great Romanian piper Gheorge Zamfir. The ending of the novel, with questions left unanswered, and lives blighted by the forever-inexplicable, may be seen as also following the trajectory of the original tale. Readers as much as the fictional characters are left with an enigma that continues to perplex and inspire. Picnic at Hanging Rock was one of the inspirations for another significant Australian fiction, this time a contemporary novel for children. Ursula Dubosarsky’s The Golden Day (2011) is an elegant and subtle short novel, set in Sydney at an exclusive girls’ school, in 1967. Like the earlier novel, The Golden Day is also partly inspired by visual art, in this case the Schoolgirl series of paintings by Charles Blackman. Combining a fairy tale atmosphere with historical details—the Vietnam War, the hanging of Ronald Ryan, the drowning of Harold Holt—the story is told through the eyes of several girls, especially one, known as Cubby. The Golden Day echoes the core narrative patterns of the earlier novel, but intriguingly transformed: a group of young girls goes with their teacher on an outing to a mysterious place (in this case, a cave on the beach—note the potent elements of rock and water, combined), and something inexplicable happens which results in a disappearance. Only this time, the girls are much younger than the characters of Lindsay’s novel, pre-pubertal in fact at eleven years old, and it is their teacher, a young, idealistic woman known only as Miss Renshaw, who disappears, apparently into thin air, with only an amber bead from her necklace ever found. But it is not only Miss Renshaw who vanishes: the other is a poet and gardener named Morgan who is also Miss Renshaw’s secret lover. Later, with the revelation of a dark past, he is suspected in absentia of being responsible for Miss Renshaw’s vanishment, with implications of rape and murder, though her body is never found. Morgan, who could partly figure as the Piper, is described early on in the novel as having “beautiful eyes, soft, brown, wet with tears, like a stuffed toy” (Dubosarsky 11). This disarming image may seem a world away from the ambiguously disturbing figure of the legendary Piper, yet not only does it fit with the children’s naïve perception of the world, it also echoes the fact that the children in the original story were not afraid of the Piper, but followed him willingly. However, that is complicated by the fact that Morgan does not lure the children; it is Miss Renshaw who follows him—and the children follow her, who could be seen as the other half of the Piper. The Golden Day similarly transforms the other Piper motifs in its own original way. The children are only literally lost for a short time, when their teacher vanishes and they are left to make their own way back from the cave; yet it could be argued that metaphorically, the girls are “lost” to childhood from that moment, in terms of never being able to go back to the state of innocence in which they were before that day. Their safe, ordered school community will never be the same again, haunted by the inexplicability of the events of that day. Meanwhile, the exploration of Australian place—the depiction of the Memorial Gardens where Miss Renshaw enjoins them to write poetry, the uncomfortable descent over rocks to the beach, and the fateful cave—is made through the eyes of children, not the adolescents and adults of Picnic at Hanging Rock. The girls are not yet in that liminal space which is adolescence and so their impressions of what the places represent are immediate, instinctive, yet confused. They don’t like the cave and can’t wait to get out of it, whereas the beach inspires them with a sense of freedom and the gardens with a sense of enchantment. But in each place, those feelings are mixed both with ordinary concerns and with seemingly random associations that are nevertheless potently evocative. For example, in the cave, Cubby senses a threateningly weightless atmosphere, a feeling of reality shifting, which she associates, apparently confusedly, with the hanging of Ronald Ryan, reported that very day. In this way, Dubosarsky subtly gestures towards the sinister inevitability of the following events, and creates a growing tension that will eventually fade but never fully dissipate. At the end, the novel takes an unexpected turn which is as destabilising as the ending of the Pied Piper story, and as open-ended in its transformative effects as the original tale: “And at that moment Cubby realised she was not going to turn into the person she had thought she would become. There was something inside her head now that would make her a different person, though she scarcely understood what it was” (Dubosarsky 148). The eruption of the uncanny into ordinary life will never leave her now, as it will never leave the other girls who followed Miss Renshaw and Morgan into the literally hollow hill of the cave and emerged alone into a transformed world. It isn’t just childhood that Cubby has lost but also any possibility of a comforting sense of the firm borders of reality. As in the Pied Piper, ambiguity and loss combine to create questions which cannot be logically answered, only dimly apprehended.Christopher Koch’s 1985 novel The Doubleman, winner of the Miles Franklin Award, also explores the power of place and the motif of lost children, but unlike the other two novels examined in this essay depicts an actual “incarnated” Piper motif in the mysteriously powerful figure of Clive Broderick, brilliant guitarist and charismatic teacher/guru, whose office, significantly, is situated in a subterranean space of knowledge—a basement room beneath a bookshop. Both central yet peripheral to the main action of the novel, touched with hints of the supernatural which never veer into overt fantasy, Broderick remains an enigma to the end. Set, like The Golden Day, in the 1960s, The Doubleman is narrated in the first person by Richard Miller, in adulthood a producer of a successful folk-rock group, the Rymers, but in childhood an imaginative, troubled polio survivor, with a crutch and a limp. It is noteworthy here that in the Grimms’ version of the Pied Piper, two children are left behind, despite following the Piper: one is blind, one is lame. And it is the lame boy who tells the townspeople what he glimpsed at Koppen Hill. In creating the character of Broderick, the author blends the traditional tropes of the Piper figure with Mephistophelian overtones and a strong influence from fairy lore, specifically the idea of the “doubleman,” here drawn from the writings of seventeenth-century Scottish pastor, the Reverend Robert Kirk of Aberfoyle. Kirk’s 1691 book The Secret Commonwealth of Elves, Fauns and Fairies is the earliest known serious attempt at objective description of the fairy beliefs of Gaelic-speaking Highlanders. His own precisely dated life-story and ambiguous end—it is said he did not die but is forever a prisoner of the fairies—has eerie parallels to the Piper story. “And there is the uncanny, powerful and ambiguous fact of the matter. Here is a man, named, born, lived, who lived a fairy story, really lived it: and in the popular imagination, he lives still” (Masson).Both in his creative and his non-fiction work Koch frequently evoked what he called “the Otherland,” which he depicted as a liminal, ambiguous, destabilising but nevertheless very real and potent presence only thinly veiled by the everyday world. This Otherland is not the same in all his fictions, but is always part of an actual place, whether that be Java in The Year of Living Dangerously, Hobart and Sydney in The Doubleman, Tasmania, Vietnam and Cambodia in Highways to a War, and Ireland and Tasmania in Out of Ireland. It is this sense of the “Otherland” below the surface, a fairy tale, mythical realm beyond logic or explanation, which gives his work its distinctive and particular power. And in The Doubleman, this motif, set within a vividly evoked real world, complete with precise period detail, transforms the Piper figure into one which could easily appear in a Hobart lane, yet which loses none of its uncanny potency. As Noel Henricksen writes in his study of Koch’s work, Island and Otherland, “Behind the membrane of Hobart is Otherland, its manifestations a spectrum stretched between the mystical and the spiritually perverted” (213).This is Broderick’s first appearance, described through twelve-year-old Richard Miller’s eyes: Tall and thin in his long dark overcoat, he studied me for the whole way as he approached, his face absolutely serious . . . The man made me uneasy to a degree for which there seemed to be no explanation . . . I was troubled by the notion that he was no ordinary man going to work at all: that he was not like other people, and that his interest couldn’t be explained so simply. (Koch, Doubleman 3)That first encounter is followed by another, more disturbing still, when Broderick speaks to the boy, eyes fixed on him: “. . . hooded by drooping lids, they were entirely without sympathy, yet nevertheless interested, and formidably intelligent” (5).The sense of danger that Broderick evokes in the boy could be explained by a sinister hint of paedophilia. But though Broderick is a predator of sorts on young people, nothing is what it seems; no rational explanation encompasses the strange effect of his presence. It is not until Richard is a young man, in the company of his musical friend Brian Brady, that he comes across Broderick again. The two young men are looking in the window of a music shop, when Broderick appears beside them, and as Richard observes, just as in a fairy tale, “He didn’t seem to have changed or aged . . .” (44). But the shock of his sudden re-appearance is mixed with something else now, as Broderick engages Brady in conversation, ignoring Richard, “. . . as though I had failed some test, all that time ago, and the man had no further use for me” (45).What happens next, as Broderick demonstrates his musical prowess, becomes Brady’s teacher, and introduces them to his disciple, young bass player Darcy Burr, will change the young men’s lives forever and set them on a path that leads both to great success and to living nightmare, even after Broderick’s apparent disappearance, for Burr will take on the Piper’s mantle. Koch’s depiction of the lost children motif is distinctively different to the other two novels examined in this essay. Their fate is not so much a mystery as a tragedy and a warning. The lost children of The Doubleman are also lost children of the sixties, bright, talented young people drawn through drugs, immersive music, and half-baked mysticism into darkness and horrifying violence. In his essay “California Dreaming,” published in the collection Crossing the Gap, Koch wrote about this subterranean aspect of the sixties, drawing a connection between it and such real-life sinister “Pipers” as Charles Manson (60). Broderick and Burr are not the same as the serial killer Manson, of course; but the spell they cast over the “lost children” who follow them is only different in degree, not in kind. In the end of the novel, the spell is broken and the world is again transformed. Yet fittingly it is a melancholy transformation: an end of childhood dreams of imaginative potential, as well as dangerous illusions: “And I knew now that it was all gone—like Harrigan Street, and Broderick, and the district of Second-Hand” (Koch, Doubleman 357). The power of place, the last of the Piper motifs, is also deeply embedded in The Doubleman. In fact, as with the idea of Otherland, place—or Island, as Henricksen evocatively puts it—is a recurring theme in Koch’s work. He identified primarily and specifically as a Tasmanian writer rather than as simply Australian, pointing out in an essay, “The Lost Hemisphere,” that because of its landscape and latitude, different to the mainland of Australia, Tasmania “genuinely belongs to a different region from the continent” (Crossing the Gap 92). In The Doubleman, Richard Miller imbues his familiar and deeply loved home landscape with great mystical power, a power which is both inherent within it as it is, but also expressive of the Otherland. In “A Tasmanian Tone,” another essay from Crossing the Gap, Koch describes that tone as springing “from a sense of waiting in the landscape: the tense yet serene expectancy of some nameless revelation” (118). But Koch could also write evocatively of landscapes other than Tasmanian ones. The unnerving climax of The Doubleman takes place in Sydney—significantly, as in The Golden Day, in a liminal, metaphysically charged place of rocks and water. That place, which is real, is called Point Piper. In conclusion, the original tale’s three main motifs—lost children, the enigma of the Piper, and the power of place—have been explored in distinctive ways in each of the three novels examined in this article. Contemporary Australia may be a world away from medieval Germany, but the uncanny liminality and capacious ambiguity of the Pied Piper tale has made it resonate potently within these major Australian fictions. Transformed and transformative within the Australian imagination, the theme of the Pied Piper threads like a faintly-heard snatch of unearthly music through the apparently mimetic realism of the novels, destabilising readers’ expectations and leaving them with subversively unanswered questions. ReferencesBird, Carmel. “Dreaming the Place: An Exploration of Antipodean Narratives.” Griffith Review 42 (2013). 1 May 2016 <https://griffithreview.com/articles/dreaming-the-place/>.Dubosarsky, Ursula. The Golden Day. Sydney: Allen and Unwin, 2011.Fiander, Lisa M. “Writing in A Fairy Story Landscape: Fairy Tales and Contemporary Australian Fiction.” Journal of the Association for the Study of Australian Literature 2 (2003). 30 April 2016 <http://openjournals.library.usyd.edu.au/index.php/JASAL/index>.Henricksen, Noel. Island and Otherland: Christopher Koch and His Books. Melbourne: Educare, 2003.Knox, Malcolm. “A Country of Lost Children.” Sydney Morning Herald 15 Aug. 2009. 1 May 2016 <http://www.smh.com.au/national/a-country-of-lost-children-20090814-el8d.html>.Koch, Christopher. The Doubleman. 1985. Sydney: Minerva, 1996.Koch, Christopher. Crossing the Gap: Memories and Reflections. 1987. Sydney: Vintage, 2000. Lindsay, Joan. Picnic at Hanging Rock. 1967. Melbourne: Penguin, 1977.Masson, Sophie. “Captive in Fairyland: The Strange Case of Robert Kirk of Aberfoyle.” Nation and Federation in the Celtic World: Papers from the Fourth Australian Conference of Celtic Studies, University of Sydney, June–July 2001. Ed. Pamela O’Neil. Sydney: University of Sydney Celtic Studies Foundation, 2003. Mieder, Wolfgang. “The Pied Piper: Origin, History, and Survival of a Legend.” Tradition and Innovation in Folk Literature. 1987. London: Routledge Revivals, 2015.Pierce, Peter. The Country of Lost Children: An Australian Anxiety. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1999.Steele, Kathleen. “Fear and Loathing in the Australian Bush: Gothic Landscapes in Bush Studies and Picnic at Hanging Rock.” Colloquy 20 (2010): 33–56. 27 July 2016 <http://artsonline.monash.edu.au/wp-content/arts/files/colloquy/colloquy_issue_20_december_2010/steele.pdf>.

Introduction Most developed countries, including Australia, have a strong focus on national, state and local strategies for emergency management and response in the face of disasters and crises. This framework can include coping with catastrophic dislocation, service disruption, injury or loss of life in the face of natural disasters such as major fires, floods, earthquakes or other large-impact natural events, as well as dealing with similar catastrophes resulting from human actions such as bombs, biological agents, cyber-attacks targeting essential services such as communications networks, or other crises affecting large populations. Emergency management frameworks for crisis and disaster response are distinguished by their focus on the domestic context for such events; that is, how to manage and assist the ways in which civilian populations, who are for the most part inexperienced and untrained in dealing with crises and disasters, are able to respond and behave in such situations so as to minimise the impacts of a catastrophic event. Even in countries like Australia that demonstrate a strong public commitment to cultural pluralism and social cohesion, ethno-cultural diversity can be seen as a risk or threat to national security and values at times of political, natural, economic and/or social tensions and crises. Australian government policymakers have recently focused, with increasing intensity, on “community resilience” as a key element in countering extremism and enhancing emergency preparedness and response. In some sense, this is the result of a tacit acknowledgement by government agencies that there are limits to what they can do for domestic communities should such a catastrophic event occur, and accordingly, the focus in recent times has shifted to how governments can best help people to help themselves in such situations, a key element of the contemporary “resilience” approach. Yet despite the robustly multicultural nature of Australian society, explicit engagement with Australia’s cultural diversity flickers only fleetingly on this agenda, which continues to pursue approaches to community resilience in the absence of understandings about how these terms and formations may themselves need to be diversified to maximise engagement by all citizens in a multicultural polity. There have been some recent efforts in Australia to move in this direction, for example the Australian Emergency Management Institute (AEMI)’s recent suite of projects with culturally and linguistically diverse (CALD) communities (2006-2010) and the current Australia-New Zealand Counter-Terrorism Committee-supported project on “Harnessing Resilience Capital in Culturally Diverse Communities to Counter Violent Extremism” (Grossman and Tahiri), which I discuss in a longer forthcoming version of this essay (Grossman). Yet the understanding of ethno-cultural identity and difference that underlies much policy thinking on resilience remains problematic for the way in which it invests in a view of the cultural dimensions of community resilience as relic rather than resource – valorising the preservation of and respect for cultural norms and traditions, but silent on what different ethno-cultural communities might contribute toward expanded definitions of both “community” and “resilience” by virtue of the transformative potential and existing cultural capital they bring with them into new national and also translocal settings. For example, a primary conclusion of the joint program between AEMI and the Australian Multicultural Commission is that CALD communities are largely “vulnerable” in the context of disasters and emergency management and need to be better integrated into majority-culture models of theorising and embedding community resilience. This focus on stronger national integration and the “vulnerability” of culturally diverse ethno-cultural communities in the Australian context echoes the work of scholars beyond Australia such as McGhee, Mouritsen (Reflections, Citizenship) and Joppke. They argue that the “civic turn” in debates around resurgent contemporary nationalism and multicultural immigration policies privileges civic integration over genuine two-way multiculturalism. This approach sidesteps the transculturational (Ortiz; Welsch; Mignolo; Bennesaieh; Robins; Stein) aspects of contemporary social identities and exchange by paying lip-service to cultural diversity while affirming a neo-liberal construct of civic values and principles as a universalising goal of Western democratic states within a global market economy. It also suggests a superficial tribute to cultural diversity that does not embed diversity comprehensively at the levels of either conceptualising or resourcing different elements of Australian transcultural communities within the generalised framework of “community resilience.” And by emphasising cultural difference as vulnerability rather than as resource or asset, it fails to acknowledge the varieties of resilience capital that many culturally diverse individuals and communities may bring with them when they resettle in new environments, by ignoring the question of what “resilience” actually means to those from culturally diverse communities. In so doing, it also avoids the critical task of incorporating intercultural definitional diversity around the concepts of both “community” and “resilience” used to promote social cohesion and the capacity to recover from disasters and crises. How we might do differently in thinking about the broader challenges for multiculturalism itself as a resilient transnational concept and practice? The Concept of Resilience The meanings of resilience vary by disciplinary perspective. While there is no universally accepted definition of the concept, it is widely acknowledged that resilience refers to the capacity of an individual to do well in spite of exposure to acute trauma or sustained adversity (Liebenberg 219). Originating in the Latin word resilio, meaning ‘to jump back’, there is general consensus that resilience pertains to an individual’s, community’s or system’s ability to adapt to and ‘bounce back’ from a disruptive event (Mohaupt 63, Longstaff et al. 3). Over the past decade there has been a dramatic rise in interest in the clinical, community and family sciences concerning resilience to a broad range of adversities (Weine 62). While debate continues over which discipline can be credited with first employing resilience as a concept, Mohaupt argues that most of the literature on resilience cites social psychology and psychiatry as the origin for the concept beginning in the mid-20th century. The pioneer researchers of what became known as resilience research studied the impact on children living in dysfunctional families. For example, the findings of work by Garmezy, Werner and Smith and Rutter showed that about one third of children in these studies were coping very well despite considerable adversities and traumas. In asking what it was that prevented the children in their research from being negatively influenced by their home environments, such research provided the basis for future research on resilience. Such work was also ground-breaking for identifying the so-called ‘protective factors’ or resources that individuals can operationalise when dealing with adversity. In essence, protective factors are those conditions in the individual that protect them from the risk of dysfunction and enable recovery from trauma. They mitigate the effects of stressors or risk factors, that is, those conditions that predispose one to harm (Hajek 15). Protective factors include the inborn traits or qualities within an individual, those defining an individual’s environment, and also the interaction between the two. Together, these factors give people the strength, skills and motivation to cope in difficult situations and re-establish (a version of) ‘normal’ life (Gunnestad). Identifying protective factors is important in terms of understanding the particular resources a given sociocultural group has at its disposal, but it is also vital to consider the interconnections between various protective mechanisms, how they might influence each other, and to what degree. An individual, for instance, might display resilience or adaptive functioning in a particular domain (e.g. emotional functioning) but experience significant deficits in another (e.g. academic achievement) (Hunter 2). It is also essential to scrutinise how the interaction between protective factors and risk factors creates patterns of resilience. Finally, a comprehensive understanding of the interrelated nature of protective mechanisms and risk factors is imperative for designing effective interventions and tailored preventive strategies (Weine 65). In short, contemporary thinking about resilience suggests it is neither entirely personal nor strictly social, but an interactive and iterative combination of the two. It is a quality of the environment as much as the individual. For Ungar, resilience is the complex entanglements between “individuals and their social ecologies [that] will determine the degree of positive outcomes experienced” (3). Thinking about resilience as context-dependent is important because research that is too trait-based or actor-centred risks ignoring any structural or institutional forces. A more ecological interpretation of resilience, one that takes into a person’s context and environment into account, is vital in order to avoid blaming the victim for any hardships they face, or relieving state and institutional structures from their responsibilities in addressing social adversity, which can “emphasise self-help in line with a neo-conservative agenda instead of stimulating state responsibility” (Mohaupt 67). Nevertheless, Ungar posits that a coherent definition of resilience has yet to be developed that adequately ‘captures the dual focus of the individual and the individual’s social ecology and how the two must both be accounted for when determining the criteria for judging outcomes and discerning processes associated with resilience’ (7). Recent resilience research has consequently prompted a shift away from vulnerability towards protective processes — a shift that highlights the sustained capabilities of individuals and communities under threat or at risk. Locating ‘Culture’ in the Literature on Resilience However, an understanding of the role of culture has remained elusive or marginalised within this trend; there has been comparatively little sustained investigation into the applicability of resilience constructs to non-western cultures, or how the resources available for survival might differ from those accessible to western populations (Ungar 4). As such, a growing body of researchers is calling for more rigorous inquiry into culturally determined outcomes that might be associated with resilience in non-western or multicultural cultures and contexts, for example where Indigenous and minority immigrant communities live side by side with their ‘mainstream’ neighbours in western settings (Ungar 2). ‘Cultural resilience’ considers the role that cultural background plays in determining the ability of individuals and communities to be resilient in the face of adversity. For Clauss-Ehlers, the term describes the degree to which the strengths of one’s culture promote the development of coping (198). Culturally-focused resilience suggests that people can manage and overcome stress and trauma based not on individual characteristics alone, but also from the support of broader sociocultural factors (culture, cultural values, language, customs, norms) (Clauss-Ehlers 324). The innate cultural strengths of a culture may or may not differ from the strengths of other cultures; the emphasis here is not so much comparatively inter-cultural as intensively intra-cultural (VanBreda 215). A culturally focused resilience model thus involves “a dynamic, interactive process in which the individual negotiates stress through a combination of character traits, cultural background, cultural values, and facilitating factors in the sociocultural environment” (Clauss-Ehlers 199). In understanding ways of ‘coping and hoping, surviving and thriving’, it is thus crucial to consider how culturally and linguistically diverse minorities navigate the cultural understandings and assumptions of both their countries of origin and those of their current domicile (Ungar 12). Gunnestad claims that people who master the rules and norms of their new culture without abandoning their own language, values and social support are more resilient than those who tenaciously maintain their own culture at the expense of adjusting to their new environment. They are also more resilient than those who forego their own culture and assimilate with the host society (14). Accordingly, if the combination of both valuing one’s culture as well as learning about the culture of the new system produces greater resilience and adaptive capacities, serious problems can arise when a majority tries to acculturate a minority to the mainstream by taking away or not recognising important parts of the minority culture. In terms of resilience, if cultural factors are denied or diminished in accounting for and strengthening resilience – in other words, if people are stripped of what they possess by way of resilience built through cultural knowledge, disposition and networks – they do in fact become vulnerable, because ‘they do not automatically gain those cultural strengths that the majority has acquired over generations’ (Gunnestad 14). Mobilising ‘Culture’ in Australian Approaches to Community Resilience The realpolitik of how concepts of resilience and culture are mobilised is highly relevant here. As noted above, when ethnocultural difference is positioned as a risk or a threat to national identity, security and values, this is precisely the moment when vigorously, even aggressively, nationalised definitions of ‘community’ and ‘identity’ that minoritise or disavow cultural diversities come to the fore in public discourse. The Australian evocation of nationalism and national identity, particularly in the way it has framed policy discussion on managing national responses to disasters and threats, has arguably been more muted than some of the European hysteria witnessed recently around cultural diversity and national life. Yet we still struggle with the idea that newcomers to Australia might fall on the surplus rather than the deficit side of the ledger when it comes to identifying and harnessing resilience capital. A brief example of this trend is explored here. From 2006 to 2010, the Australian Emergency Management Institute embarked on an ambitious government-funded four-year program devoted to strengthening community resilience in relation to disasters with specific reference to engaging CALD communities across Australia. The program, Inclusive Emergency Management with CALD Communities, was part of a wider Australian National Action Plan to Build Social Cohesion, Harmony and Security in the wake of the London terrorist bombings in July 2005. Involving CALD community organisations as well as various emergency and disaster management agencies, the program ran various workshops and agency-community partnership pilots, developed national school education resources, and commissioned an evaluation of the program’s effectiveness (Farrow et al.). While my critique here is certainly not aimed at emergency management or disaster response agencies and personnel themselves – dedicated professionals who often achieve remarkable results in emergency and disaster response under extraordinarily difficult circumstances – it is nevertheless important to highlight how the assumptions underlying elements of AEMI’s experience and outcomes reflect the persistent ways in which ethnocultural diversity is rendered as a problem to be surmounted or a liability to be redressed, rather than as an asset to be built upon or a resource to be valued and mobilised. AEMI’s explicit effort to engage with CALD communities in building overall community resilience was important in its tacit acknowledgement that emergency and disaster services were (and often remain) under-resourced and under-prepared in dealing with the complexities of cultural diversity in emergency situations. Despite these good intentions, however, while the program produced some positive outcomes and contributed to crucial relationship building between CALD communities and emergency services within various jurisdictions, it also continued to frame the challenge of working with cultural diversity as a problem of increased vulnerability during disasters for recently arrived and refugee background CALD individuals and communities. This highlights a common feature in community resilience-building initiatives, which is to focus on those who are already ‘robust’ versus those who are ‘vulnerable’ in relation to resilience indicators, and whose needs may require different or additional resources in order to be met. At one level, this is a pragmatic resourcing issue: national agencies understandably want to put their people, energy and dollars where they are most needed in pursuit of a steady-state unified national response at times of crisis. Nor should it be argued that at least some CALD groups, particularly those from new arrival and refugee communities, are not vulnerable in at least some of the ways and for some of the reasons suggested in the program evaluation. However, the consistent focus on CALD communities as ‘vulnerable’ and ‘in need’ is problematic, as well as partial. It casts members of these communities as structurally and inherently less able and less resilient in the context of disasters and emergencies: in some sense, as those who, already ‘victims’ of chronic social deficits such as low English proficiency, social isolation and a mysterious unidentified set of ‘cultural factors’, can become doubly victimised in acute crisis and disaster scenarios. In what is by now a familiar trope, the description of CALD communities as ‘vulnerable’ precludes asking questions about what they do have, what they do know, and what they do or can contribute to how we respond to disaster and emergency events in our communities. A more profound problem in this sphere revolves around working out how best to engage CALD communities and individuals within existing approaches to disaster and emergency preparedness and response. This reflects a fundamental but unavoidable limitation of disaster preparedness models: they are innately spatially and geographically bounded, and consequently understand ‘communities’ in these terms, rather than expanding definitions of ‘community’ to include the dimensions of community-as-social-relations. While some good engagement outcomes were achieved locally around cross-cultural knowledge for emergency services workers, the AEMI program fell short of asking some of the harder questions about how emergency and disaster service scaffolding and resilience-building approaches might themselves need to change or transform, using a cross-cutting model of ‘communities’ as both geographic places and multicultural spaces (Bartowiak-Théron and Crehan) in order to be more effective in national scenarios in which cultural diversity should be taken for granted. Toward Acknowledgement of Resilience Capital Most significantly, the AEMI program did not produce any recognition of the ways in which CALD communities already possess resilience capital, or consider how this might be drawn on in formulating stronger community initiatives around disaster and threats preparedness for the future. Of course, not all individuals within such communities, nor all communities across varying circumstances, will demonstrate resilience, and we need to be careful of either overgeneralising or romanticising the kinds and degrees of ‘resilience capital’ that may exist within them. Nevertheless, at least some have developed ways of withstanding crises and adapting to new conditions of living. This is particularly so in connection with individual and group behaviours around resource sharing, care-giving and social responsibility under adverse circumstances (Grossman and Tahiri) – all of which are directly relevant to emergency and disaster response. While some of these resilient behaviours may have been nurtured or enhanced by particular experiences and environments, they can, as the discussion of recent literature above suggests, also be rooted more deeply in cultural norms, habits and beliefs. Whatever their origins, for culturally diverse societies to achieve genuine resilience in the face of both natural and human-made disasters, it is critical to call on the ‘social memory’ (Folke et al.) of communities faced with responding to emergencies and crises. Such wellsprings of social memory ‘come from the diversity of individuals and institutions that draw on reservoirs of practices, knowledge, values, and worldviews and is crucial for preparing the system for change, building resilience, and for coping with surprise’ (Adger et al.). Consequently, if we accept the challenge of mapping an approach to cultural diversity as resource rather than relic into our thinking around strengthening community resilience, there are significant gains to be made. For a whole range of reasons, no diversity-sensitive model or measure of resilience should invest in static understandings of ethnicities and cultures; all around the world, ethnocultural identities and communities are in a constant and sometimes accelerated state of dynamism, reconfiguration and flux. But to ignore the resilience capital and potential protective factors that ethnocultural diversity can offer to the strengthening of community resilience more broadly is to miss important opportunities that can help suture the existing disconnects between proactive approaches to intercultural connectedness and social inclusion on the one hand, and reactive approaches to threats, national security and disaster response on the other, undermining the effort to advance effectively on either front. This means that dominant social institutions and structures must be willing to contemplate their own transformation as the result of transcultural engagement, rather than merely insisting, as is often the case, that ‘other’ cultures and communities conform to existing hegemonic paradigms of being and of living. In many ways, this is the most critical step of all. A resilience model and strategy that questions its own culturally informed yet taken-for-granted assumptions and premises, goes out into communities to test and refine these, and returns to redesign its approach based on the new knowledge it acquires, would reflect genuine progress toward an effective transculturational approach to community resilience in culturally diverse contexts.References Adger, W. Neil, Terry P. Hughes, Carl Folke, Stephen R. Carpenter and Johan Rockström. “Social-Ecological Resilience to Coastal Disasters.” Science 309.5737 (2005): 1036-1039. ‹http://www.sciencemag.org/content/309/5737/1036.full> Bartowiak-Théron, Isabelle, and Anna Corbo Crehan. “The Changing Nature of Communities: Implications for Police and Community Policing.” Community Policing in Australia: Australian Institute of Criminology (AIC) Reports, Research and Policy Series 111 (2010): 8-15. Benessaieh, Afef. “Multiculturalism, Interculturality, Transculturality.” Ed. A. Benessaieh. Transcultural Americas/Ameriques Transculturelles. Ottawa: U of Ottawa Press/Les Presses de l’Unversite d’Ottawa, 2010. 11-38. Clauss-Ehlers, Caroline S. “Sociocultural Factors, Resilience and Coping: Support for a Culturally Sensitive Measure of Resilience.” Journal of Applied Developmental Psychology 29 (2008): 197-212. Clauss-Ehlers, Caroline S. “Cultural Resilience.” Encyclopedia of Cross-Cultural School Psychology. Ed. C. S. Clauss-Ehlers. New York: Springer, 2010. 324-326. Farrow, David, Anthea Rutter and Rosalind Hurworth. Evaluation of the Inclusive Emergency Management with Culturally and Linguistically Diverse (CALD) Communities Program. Parkville, Vic.: Centre for Program Evaluation, U of Melbourne, July 2009. ‹http://www.ag.gov.au/www/emaweb/rwpattach.nsf/VAP/(9A5D88DBA63D32A661E6369859739356)~Final+Evaluation+Report+-+July+2009.pdf/$file/Final+Evaluation+Report+-+July+2009.pdf>.Folke, Carl, Thomas Hahn, Per Olsson, and Jon Norberg. “Adaptive Governance of Social-Ecological Systems.” Annual Review of Environment and Resources 30 (2005): 441-73. ‹http://arjournals.annualreviews.org/doi/pdf/10.1146/annurev.energy.30.050504.144511>. Garmezy, Norman. “The Study of Competence in Children at Risk for Severe Psychopathology.” The Child in His Family: Children at Psychiatric Risk. Vol. 3. Eds. E. J. Anthony and C. Koupernick. New York: Wiley, 1974. 77-97. Grossman, Michele. “Resilient Multiculturalism? Diversifying Australian Approaches to Community Resilience and Cultural Difference”. Global Perspectives on Multiculturalism in the 21st Century. Eds. B. E. de B’beri and F. Mansouri. London: Routledge, 2014. Grossman, Michele, and Hussein Tahiri. Harnessing Resilience Capital in Culturally Diverse Communities to Counter Violent Extremism. Canberra: Australia-New Zealand Counter-Terrorism Committee, forthcoming 2014. Grossman, Michele. “Cultural Resilience and Strengthening Communities”. Safeguarding Australia Summit, Canberra. 23 Sep. 2010. ‹http://www.safeguardingaustraliasummit.org.au/uploader/resources/Michele_Grossman.pdf>. Gunnestad, Arve. “Resilience in a Cross-Cultural Perspective: How Resilience Is Generated in Different Cultures.” Journal of Intercultural Communication 11 (2006). ‹http://www.immi.se/intercultural/nr11/gunnestad.htm>. Hajek, Lisa J. “Belonging and Resilience: A Phenomenological Study.” Unpublished Master of Science thesis, U of Wisconsin-Stout. Menomonie, Wisconsin, 2003. Hunter, Cathryn. “Is Resilience Still a Useful Concept When Working with Children and Young People?” Child Family Community Australia (CFA) Paper 2. Melbourne: Australian Institute of Family Studies, 2012.Joppke, Christian. "Beyond National Models: Civic Integration Policies for Immigrants in Western Europe". West European Politics 30.1 (2007): 1-22. Liebenberg, Linda, Michael Ungar, and Fons van de Vijver. “Validation of the Child and Youth Resilience Measure-28 (CYRM-28) among Canadian Youth.” Research on Social Work Practice 22.2 (2012): 219-226. Longstaff, Patricia H., Nicholas J. Armstrong, Keli Perrin, Whitney May Parker, and Matthew A. Hidek. “Building Resilient Communities: A Preliminary Framework for Assessment.” Homeland Security Affairs 6.3 (2010): 1-23. ‹http://www.hsaj.org/?fullarticle=6.3.6>. McGhee, Derek. The End of Multiculturalism? Terrorism, Integration and Human Rights. Maidenhead: Open U P, 2008.Mignolo, Walter. Local Histories/Global Designs: Coloniality, Subaltern Knowledges, and Border Thinking. Princeton: Princeton U P, 2000. Mohaupt, Sarah. “Review Article: Resilience and Social Exclusion.” Social Policy and Society 8 (2009): 63-71.Mouritsen, Per. "The Culture of Citizenship: A Reflection on Civic Integration in Europe." Ed. R. Zapata-Barrero. Citizenship Policies in the Age of Diversity: Europe at the Crossroad." Barcelona: CIDOB Foundation, 2009: 23-35. Mouritsen, Per. “Political Responses to Cultural Conflict: Reflections on the Ambiguities of the Civic Turn.” Ed. P. Mouritsen and K.E. Jørgensen. Constituting Communities. Political Solutions to Cultural Conflict, London: Palgrave, 2008. 1-30. Ortiz, Fernando. Cuban Counterpoint: Tobacco and Sugar. Trans. Harriet de Onís. Intr. Fernando Coronil and Bronislaw Malinowski. Durham, NC: Duke U P, 1995 [1940]. Robins, Kevin. The Challenge of Transcultural Diversities: Final Report on the Transversal Study on Cultural Policy and Cultural Diversity. Culture and Cultural Heritage Department. Strasbourg: Council of European Publishing, 2006. Rutter, Michael. “Protective Factors in Children’s Responses to Stress and Disadvantage.” Annals of the Academy of Medicine, Singapore 8 (1979): 324-38. Stein, Mark. “The Location of Transculture.” Transcultural English Studies: Fictions, Theories, Realities. Eds. F. Schulze-Engler and S. Helff. Cross/Cultures 102/ANSEL Papers 12. Amsterdam and New York: Rodopi, 2009. 251-266. Ungar, Michael. “Resilience across Cultures.” British Journal of Social Work 38.2 (2008): 218-235. First published online 2006: 1-18. In-text references refer to the online Advance Access edition ‹http://bjsw.oxfordjournals.org/content/early/2006/10/18/bjsw.bcl343.full.pdf>. VanBreda, Adrian DuPlessis. Resilience Theory: A Literature Review. Erasmuskloof: South African Military Health Service, Military Psychological Institute, Social Work Research & Development, 2001. Weine, Stevan. “Building Resilience to Violent Extremism in Muslim Diaspora Communities in the United States.” Dynamics of Asymmetric Conflict 5.1 (2012): 60-73. Welsch, Wolfgang. “Transculturality: The Puzzling Form of Cultures Today.” Spaces of Culture: City, Nation World. Eds. M. Featherstone and S. Lash. London: Sage, 1999. 194-213. Werner, Emmy E., and Ruth S. Smith. Vulnerable But Invincible: A Longitudinal Study of\ Resilience and Youth. New York: McGraw Hill, 1982. NotesThe concept of ‘resilience capital’ I offer here is in line with one strand of contemporary theorising around resilience – that of resilience as social or socio-ecological capital – but moves beyond the idea of enhancing general social connectedness and community cohesion by emphasising the ways in which culturally diverse communities may already be robustly networked and resourceful within micro-communal settings, with new resources and knowledge both to draw on and to offer other communities or the ‘national community’ at large. In effect, ‘resilience capital’ speaks to the importance of finding ‘the communities within the community’ (Bartowiak-Théron and Crehan 11) and recognising their capacity to contribute to broad-scale resilience and recovery.I am indebted for the discussion of the literature on resilience here to Dr Peta Stephenson, Centre for Cultural Diversity and Wellbeing, Victoria University, who is working on a related project (M. Grossman and H. Tahiri, Harnessing Resilience Capital in Culturally Diverse Communities to Counter Violent Extremism, forthcoming 2014).

For seven months in 1999/2000, six-year old Cuban Elián González was embroiled in a family feud plotted along rival national and ideological lines, and relayed televisually as soap opera across the planet. In Miami, apparitions of the Virgin Mary were reported after Elián’s arrival; adherents of Afro-Cuban santería similarly regarded Elián as divinely touched. In Cuba, Elián’s “kidnapping” briefly reinvigorated a torpid revolutionary project. He was hailed by Fidel Castro as the symbolic descendant of José Martí and Che Guevara, and of the patriotic rigour they embodied. Cubans massed to demand his return. In the U.S.A., Elián’s case was arbitrated at every level of the juridical system. The “Save Elián” campaign generated widespread debate about godless versus godly family values, the contours of the American Dream, and consumerist excess. By the end of 2000 Elián had generated the second largest volume of TV news coverage to that date in U.S. history, surpassed only by the O. J. Simpson case (Fasulo). After Fidel Castro, and perhaps the geriatric music ensemble manufactured by Ry Cooder, the Buena Vista Social Club, Elián became the most famous Cuban of our era. Elián also emerged as the unlikeliest of popular-cultural icons, the focus and subject of cyber-sites, books, films, talk-back radio programs, art exhibits, murals, statues, documentaries, a South Park episode, poetry, songs, t-shirts, posters, newspaper editorials in dozens of languages, demonstrations, speeches, political cartoons, letters, legal writs, U.S. Congress records, opinion polls, prayers, and, on both sides of the Florida Strait, museums consecrated in his memory. Confronted by Elián’s extraordinary renown and historical impact, John Carlos Rowe suggests that the Elián story confirms the need for a post-national and transdisciplinary American Studies, one whose practitioners “will have to be attentive to the strange intersections of politics, law, mass media, popular folklore, literary rhetoric, history, and economics that allow such events to be understood.” (204). I share Rowe’s reading of Elián’s story and the clear challenges it presents to analysis of “America,” to which I would add “Cuba” as well. But Elián’s story is also significant for the ways it challenges critical understandings of fame and its construction. No longer, to paraphrase Leo Braudy (566), definable as an accidental hostage of the mass-mediated eye, Elián’s fame has no certain relation to the child at its discursive centre. Elián’s story is not about an individuated, conscious, performing, desiring, and ambivalently rewarded ego. Elián was never what P. David Marshall calls “part of the public sphere, essentially an actor or, … a player” in it (19). The living/breathing Elián is absent from what I call the virtualizing drives that famously reproduced him. As a result of this virtualization, while one Elián now attends school in Cuba, many other Eliáns continue to populate myriad popular-cultural texts and to proliferate away from the states that tried to contain him. According to Jerry Everard, “States are above all cultural artefacts” that emerge, virtually, “as information produced by and through practices of signification,” as bits, bites, networks, and flows (7). All of us, he claims, reside in “virtual states,” in “legal fictions” based on the elusive and contested capacity to generate national identities in an imaginary bounded space (152). Cuba, the origin of Elián, is a virtual case in point. To augment Nicole Stenger’s definition of cyberspace, Cuba, like “Cyberspace, is like Oz — it is, we get there, but it has no location” (53). As a no-place, Cuba emerges in signifying terms as an illusion with the potential to produce and host Cubanness, as well as rival ideals of nation that can be accessed intact, at will, and ready for ideological deployment. Crude dichotomies of antagonism — Cuba/U.S.A., home/exile, democracy/communism, freedom/tyranny, North/South, godlessness/blessedness, consumption/want — characterize the hegemonic struggle over the Cuban nowhere. Split and splintered, hypersensitive and labyrinthine, guarded and hysterical, and always active elsewhere, the Cuban cultural artefact — an “atmospheric depression in history” (Stenger 56) — very much conforms to the logics that guide the appeal, and danger, of cyberspace. Cuba occupies an inexhaustible “ontological time … that can be reintegrated at any time” (Stenger 55), but it is always haunted by the prospect of ontological stalling and proliferation. The cyber-like struggle over reintegration, of course, evokes the Elián González affair, which began on 25 November 1999, when five-year old Elián set foot on U.S. soil, and ended on 28 June 2000, when Elián, age six, returned to Cuba with his father. Elián left one Cuba and found himself in another Cuba, in the U.S.A., each national claimant asserting virtuously that its other was a no-place and therefore illegitimate. For many exiles, Elián’s arrival in Miami confirmed that Castro’s Cuba is on the point of collapse and hence on the virtual verge of reintegration into the democratic fold as determined by the true upholders of the nation, the exile community. It was also argued that Elián’s biological father could never be the boy’s true father because he was a mere emasculated puppet of Castro himself. The Cuban state, then, had forfeited its claims to generate and host Cubanness. Succoured by this logic, the “Save Elián” campaign began, with organizations like the Cuban American National Foundation (CANF) bankrolling protests, leaflet and poster production, and official “Elián” websites, providing financial assistance to and arranging employment for some of Elián’s Miami relatives, lobbying the U.S. Congress and the Florida legislature, and contributing funds to the legal challenges on behalf of Elián at state and federal levels. (Founded in 1981, the CANF is the largest and most powerful Cuban exile organization, and one that regards itself as the virtual government-in-waiting. CANF emerged with the backing of the Reagan administration and the C.I.A. as a “private sector initiative” to support U.S. efforts against its long-time ideological adversary across the Florida Strait [Arboleya 224-5].) While the “Save Elián” campaign failed, the result of a Cuban American misreading of public opinion and overestimation of the community’s lobbying power with the Clinton administration, the struggle continues in cyberspace. CANF.net.org registers its central role in this intense period with silence; but many of the “Save Elián” websites constructed after November 1999 continue to function as sad memento moris of Elián’s shipwreck in U.S. virtual space. (The CANF website does provide links to articles and opinion pieces about Elián from the U.S. media, but its own editorializing on the Elián affair has disappeared. Two keys to this silence were the election of George W. Bush, and the events of 11 Sep. 2001, which have enabled a revision of the Elián saga as a mere temporary setback on the Cuban-exile historical horizon. Indeed, since 9/11, the CANF website has altered the terms of its campaign against Castro, posting photos of Castro with Arab leaders and implicating him in a world-wide web of terrorism. Elián’s return to Cuba may thus be viewed retrospectively as an act that galvanized Cuban-exile support for the Republican Party and their disdain for the Democratic rival, and this support became pivotal in the Republican electoral victory in Florida and in the U.S.A. as a whole.) For many months after Elián’s return to Cuba, the official Liberty for Elián site, established in April 2000, was urging visitors to make a donation, volunteer for the Save Elián taskforce, send email petitions, and “invite a friend to help Elián.” (Since I last accessed “Liberty for Elián” in March 2004 it has become a gambling site.) Another site, Elian’s Home Page, still implores visitors to pray for Elián. Some of the links no longer function, and imperatives to “Click here” lead to that dead zone called “URL not found on this server.” A similar stalling of the exile aspirations invested in Elián is evident on most remaining Elián websites, official and unofficial, the latter including The Sad Saga of Elian Gonzalez, which exhorts “Cuban Exiles! Now You Can Save Elián!” In these sites, a U.S. resident Elián lives on as an archival curiosity, a sign of pathos, and a reminder of what was, for a time, a Cuban-exile PR disaster. If such cybersites confirm the shipwrecked coordinates of Elián’s fame, the “Save Elián” campaign also provided a focus for unrestrained criticism of the Cuban exile community’s imbrication in U.S. foreign policy initiatives and its embrace of American Dream logics. Within weeks of Elián’s arrival in Florida, cyberspace was hosting myriad Eliáns on sites unbeholden to Cuban-U.S. antagonisms, thus consolidating Elián’s function as a disputed icon of virtualized celebrity and focus for parody. A sense of this carnivalesque proliferation can be gained from the many doctored versions of the now iconic photograph of Elián’s seizure by the INS. Still posted, the jpegs and flashes — Elián and Michael Jackson, Elián and Homer Simpson, Elián and Darth Vader, among others (these and other doctored versions are archived on Hypercenter.com) — confirm the extraordinary domestication of Elián in local pop-cultural terms that also resonate as parodies of U.S. consumerist and voyeuristic excess. Indeed, the parodic responses to Elián’s fame set the virtual tone in cyberspace where ostensibly serious sites can themselves be approached as send ups. One example is Lois Rodden’s Astrodatabank, which, since early 2000, has asked visitors to assist in interpreting Elián’s astrological chart in order to confirm whether or not he will remain in the U.S.A. To this end the site provides Elián’s astro-biography and birth chart — a Sagittarius with a Virgo moon, Elián’s planetary alignments form a bucket — and conveys such information as “To the people of Little Havana [Miami], Elian has achieved mystical status as a ‘miracle child.’” (An aside: Elián and I share the same birthday.) Elián’s virtual reputation for divinely sanctioned “blessedness” within a Cuban exile-meets-American Dream typology provided Tom Tomorrow with the target in his 31 January 2000, cartoon, This Modern World, on Salon.com. Here, six-year old Arkansas resident Allen Consalis loses his mother on the New York subway. His relatives decide to take care of him since “New York has much more to offer him than Arkansas! I mean get real!” A custody battle ensues in which Allan’s heavily Arkansas-accented father requires translation, and the case inspires heated debate: “can we really condemn him to a life in Arkansas?” The cartoon ends with the relatives tempting Allan with the delights offered by the Disney Store, a sign of Elián’s contested insertion into an American Dreamscape that not only promises an endless supply of consumer goods but provides a purportedly safe venue for the alternative Cuban nation. The illusory virtuality of that nation also animates a futuristic scenario, written in Spanish by Camilo Hernández, and circulated via email in May 2000. In this text, Elián sparks a corporate battle between Firestone and Goodyear to claim credit for his inner-tubed survival. Cuban Americans regard Elián as the Messiah come to lead them to the promised land. His ability to walk on water is scientifically tested: he sinks and has to be rescued again. In the ensuing custody battle, Cuban state-run demonstrations allow mothers of lesbians and of children who fail maths to have their say on Elián. Andrew Lloyd Weber wins awards for “Elián the Musical,” and for the film version, Madonna plays the role of the dolphin that saved Elián. Laws are enacted to punish people who mispronounce “Elián” but these do not help Elián’s family. All legal avenues exhausted, the entire exile community moves to Canada, and then to North Dakota where a full-scale replica of Cuba has been built. Visa problems spark another migration; the exiles are welcomed by Israel, thus inspiring a new Intifada that impels their return to the U.S.A. Things settle down by 2014, when Elián, his wife and daughter celebrate his 21st birthday as guests of the Kennedys. The text ends in 2062, when the great-great-grandson of Ry Cooder encounters an elderly Elián in Wyoming, thus providing Elián with his second fifteen minutes of fame. Hernández’s text confirms the impatience with which the Cuban-exile community was regarded by other U.S. Latino sectors, and exemplifies the loss of control over Elián experienced by both sides in the righteous Cuban “moral crusade” to save or repatriate Elián (Fernández xv). (Many Chicanos, for example, were angered at Cuban-exile arguments that Elián should remain in the U.S.A. when, in 1999 alone, 8,000 Mexican children were repatriated to Mexico (Ramos 126), statistical confirmation of the favored status that Cubans enjoy, and Mexicans do not, vis-à-vis U.S. immigration policy. Tom Tomorrow’s cartoon and Camilo Hernández’s email text are part of what I call the “What-if?” sub-genre of Elián representations. Another example is “If Elián Gonzalez was Jewish,” archived on Lori’s Mishmash Humor page, in which Eliat Ginsburg is rescued after floating on a giant matzoh in the Florida Strait, and his Florida relatives fight to prevent his return to Israel, where “he had no freedom, no rights, no tennis lessons”.) Nonetheless, that “moral crusade” has continued in the Cuban state. During the custody battle, Elián was virtualized into a hero of national sovereignty, an embodied fix for a revolutionary project in strain due to the U.S. embargo, the collapse of Soviet socialism, and the symbolic threat posed by the virtual Cuban nation-in-waiting in Florida. Indeed, for the Castro regime, the exile wing of the national family is virtual precisely because it conveniently overlooks two facts: the continued survival of the Cuban state itself; and the exile community’s forty-plus-year slide into permanent U.S. residency as one migrant sector among many. Such rhetoric has not faded since Elián’s return. On December 5, 2003, Castro visited Cárdenas for Elián’s tenth birthday celebration and a quick tour of the Museo a la batalla de ideas (Museum for the Battle of Ideas), the museum dedicated to Elián’s “victory” over U.S. imperialism and opened by Castro on July 14, 2001. At Elián’s school Castro gave a speech in which he recalled the struggle to save “that little boy, whose absence caused everyone, and the whole people of Cuba, so much sorrow and such determination to struggle.” The conflation of Cuban state rhetoric and an Elián mnemonic in Cárdenas is repeated in Havana’s “Plaza de Elián,” or more formally Tribuna Anti-imperialista José Martí, where a statue of José Martí, the nineteenth-century Cuban nationalist, holds Elián in his arms while pointing to Florida. Meanwhile, in Little Havana, Miami, a sun-faded set of photographs and hand-painted signs, which insist God will save Elián yet, hang along the front fence of the house — now also a museum and site of pilgrimage — where Elián once lived in a state of siege. While Elián’s centrality in a struggle between virtuality and virtue continues on both sides of the Florida Strait, the Cuban nowhere could not contain Elián. During his U.S. sojourn many commentators noted that his travails were relayed in serial fashion to an international audience that also claimed intimate knowledge of the boy. Coming after the O.J. Simpson saga and the Clinton-Lewinsky affair, the Elián story confirmed journalist Rick Kushman’s identification of a ceaseless, restless U.S. media attention shift from one story to the next, generating an “übercoverage” that engulfs the country “in mini-hysteria” (Calvert 107). But In Elián’s case, the voyeuristic media-machine attained unprecedented intensity because it met and worked with the virtualities of the Cuban nowhere, part of it in the U.S.A. Thus, a transnational surfeit of Elián-narrative options was guaranteed for participants, audiences and commentators alike, wherever they resided. In Cuba, Elián was hailed as the child-hero of the Revolution. In Miami he was a savior sent by God, the proof supplied by the dolphins that saved him from sharks, and the Virgins who appeared in Little Havana after his arrival (De La Torre 3-5). Along the U.S.A.-Mexico border in 2000, Elián’s name was given to hundreds of Mexican babies whose parents thought the gesture would guarantee their sons a U.S. future. Day by day, Elián’s story was propelled across the globe by melodramatic plot devices familiar to viewers of soap opera: doubtful paternities; familial crimes; identity secrets and their revelation; conflicts of good over evil; the reuniting of long-lost relatives; and the operations of chance and its attendant “hand of Destiny, arcane and vaguely supernatural, transcending probability of doubt” (Welsh 22). Those devices were also favored by the amateur author, whose narratives confirm that the delirious parameters of cyberspace are easily matched in the worldly text. In Michael John’s self-published “history,” Betrayal of Elian Gonzalez, Elián is cast as the victim of a conspiracy traceable back to the hydra-headed monster of Castro-Clinton and the world media: “Elian’s case was MANIPULATED to achieve THEIR OVER-ALL AGENDA. Only time will bear that out” (143). His book is now out of print, and the last time I looked (August 2004) one copy was being offered on Amazon.com for US$186.30 (original price, $9.95). Guyana-born, Canadian-resident Frank Senauth’s eccentric novel, A Cry for Help: The Fantastic Adventures of Elian Gonzalez, joins his other ventures into vanity publishing: To Save the Titanic from Disaster I and II; To Save Flight 608 From Disaster; A Wish to Die – A Will to Live; A Time to Live, A Time to Die; and A Day of Terror: The Sagas of 11th September, 2001. In A Cry for Help, Rachel, a white witch and student of writing, travels back in time in order to save Elián’s mother and her fellow travelers from drowning in the Florida Strait. As Senauth says, “I was only able to write this dramatic story because of my gift for seeing things as they really are and sharing my mystic imagination with you the public” (25). As such texts confirm, Elián González is an aberrant addition to the traditional U.S.-sponsored celebrity roll-call. He had no ontological capacity to take advantage of, intervene in, comment on, or be known outside, the parallel narrative universe into which he was cast and remade. He was cast adrift as a mere proper name that impelled numerous authors to supply the boy with the biography he purportedly lacked. Resident of an “atmospheric depression in history” (Stenger 56), Elián was battled over by virtualized national rivals, mass-mediated, and laid bare for endless signification. Even before his return to Cuba, one commentator noted that Elián had been consumed, denied corporeality, and condemned to “live out his life in hyper-space” (Buzachero). That space includes the infamous episode of South Park from May 2000, in which Kenny, simulating Elián, is killed off as per the show’s episodic protocols. Symptomatic of Elián’s narrative dispersal, the Kenny-Elián simulation keeps on living and dying whenever the episode is re-broadcast on TV sets across the world. Appropriated and relocated to strange and estranging narrative terrain, one Elián now lives out his multiple existences in the Cuban-U.S. “atmosphere in history,” and the Elián icon continues to proliferate virtually anywhere. References Arboleya, Jesús. The Cuban Counter-Revolution. Trans. Rafael Betancourt. Research in International Studies, Latin America Series no. 33. Athens, OH: Ohio Center for International Studies, 2000. Braudy, Leo. The Frenzy of Renown: Fame and Its History. New York and Oxford: Oxford UP, 1986. Buzachero, Chris. “Elian Gonzalez in Hyper-Space.” Ctheory.net 24 May 2000. 19 Aug. 2004: http://www.ctheory.net/text_file.asp?pick=222>. Calvert, Clay. Voyeur Nation: Media, Privacy, and Peering in Modern Culture. Boulder: Westview, 2000. Castro, Fidel. “Speech Given by Fidel Castro, at the Ceremony Marking the Birthday of Elian Gonzalez and the Fourth Anniversary of the Battle of Ideas, Held at ‘Marcello Salado’ Primary School in Cardenas, Matanzas on December 5, 2003.” 15 Aug. 2004 http://www.revolutionarycommunist.org.uk/fidel_castro3.htm>. Cuban American National Foundation. Official Website. 2004. 20 Aug. 2004 http://www.canf.org/2004/principal-ingles.htm>. De La Torre, Miguel A. La Lucha For Cuba: Religion and Politics on the Streets of Miami. Berkeley: U of California P, 2003. “Elian Jokes.” Hypercenter.com 2000. 19 Aug. 2004 http://www.hypercenter.com/jokes/elian/index.shtml>. “Elian’s Home Page.” 2000. 19 Aug. 2004 http://elian.8k.com>. Everard, Jerry. Virtual States: The Internet and the Boundaries of the Nation-State. London and New York, Routledge, 2000. Fernández, Damián J. Cuba and the Politics of Passion. Austin: U of Texas P, 2000. Hernández, Camilo. “Cronología de Elián.” E-mail. 2000. Received 6 May 2000. “If Elian Gonzalez Was Jewish.” Lori’s Mishmash Humor Page. 2000. 10 Aug. 2004 http://www.geocities.com/CollegePark/6174/jokes/if-elian-was-jewish.htm>. John, Michael. Betrayal of Elian Gonzalez. MaxGo, 2000. “Liberty for Elián.” Official Save Elián Website 2000. June 2003 http://www.libertyforelian.org>. Marshall, P. David. Celebrity and Power: Fame in Contemporary Culture. Minneapolis and London: U of Minnesota P, 1997. Ramos, Jorge. La otra cara de América: Historias de los inmigrantes latinoamericanos que están cambiando a Estados Unidos. México, DF: Grijalbo, 2000. Rodden, Lois. “Elian Gonzalez.” Astrodatabank 2000. 20 Aug. 2004 http://www.astrodatabank.com/NM/GonzalezElian.htm>. Rowe, John Carlos. 2002. The New American Studies. Minneapolis and London: U of Minnesota P, 2002. “The Sad Saga of Elian Gonzalez.” July 2004. 19 Aug. 2004 http://www.revlu.com/Elian.html>. Senauth, Frank. A Cry for Help: The Fantastic Adventures of Elian Gonzalez. Victoria, Canada: Trafford, 2000. Stenger, Nicole. “Mind Is a Leaking Rainbow.” Cyberspace: First Steps. Ed. Michael Benedikt. Cambridge, MA: MIT P, 1991. 49-58. Welsh, Alexander. George Eliot and Blackmail. Cambridge, MA: Harvard UP, 1985. Citation reference for this article MLA Style Allatson, Paul. "The Virtualization of Elián González." M/C Journal 7.5 (2004). echo date('d M. Y'); ?> <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0411/16-allatson.php>. APA Style Allatson, P. (Nov. 2004) "The Virtualization of Elián González," M/C Journal, 7(5). Retrieved echo date('d M. Y'); ?> from <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0411/16-allatson.php>.

I have decided to launch a campaign against the skyscraper, that hideous, mediocre form of architecture…. Today we only have an empty version of it, only competing in height.— Rem Koolhaas, “Kool Enough for Beijing?”Figure 1: The CCTV Headquarters—A Courtyard in the Air. Cher Coad, 2020.Introduction: An Anomaly within an Anomaly Construction of Beijing’s China Central Television Headquarters (henceforth CCTV Headquarters) began in 2004 and the building was officially completed in 2012. It is a project by the Office for Metropolitan Architecture (OMA) headed by Rem Koolhaas (1944-), who has been called “the coolest, hippest, and most cutting-edge architect on the planet”(“Rem Koolhaas Biography”). The CCTV Headquarters is a distinctive feature of downtown Beijing and is heavily associated in the Western world with 21st-century China. It is often used as the backdrop for reports from the China correspondent for the Australian Broadcasting Corporation (ABC), Bill Birtles. The construction of the CCTV Headquarters, however, was very much an international enterprise. Koolhaas himself is Dutch, and the building was one of the first projects the OMA did outside of America after 9/11. As Koolhaas describes it: we had incredible emphasis on New York for five years, and America for five years, and what we decided to do after September 11 when we realized that, you know, things were going to be different in America: [was] to also orient ourselves eastwards [Koolhaas goes on to describe two projects: the Hermitage Museum, St. Petersburg, Russia and the CCTV Headquarters]. (Rem Koolhaas Interview) Problematically, Koolhaas claims that the building we created for CCTV could never have been conceived by the Chinese and could never have been built by Europeans. It is a hybrid by definition. It was also a partnership, not a foreign imposition…. There was a huge Chinese component from the very beginning. We tried to do a building that conveys that it has emerged from the local situation. (Fraioli 117) Our article reinterprets this reading. We suggest that the OMA’s “incredible emphasis” on America—home of the world’s first skyscraper: the Home Insurance Building built in 1885 in Chicago, Illinois—pivotally spills over into its engagement with China. The emergence of the CCTV Headquarters “from the local situation”, such as it is, is more in spite of Koolhaas’s stated “hybrid” approach than because of it, for what’s missing from his analysis of the CCTV Headquarters’ provenance is the siheyuan or classical Chinese courtyard house. We will argue that the CCTV Headquarters is an anomaly within an anomaly in contemporary Beijing’s urban landscape, to the extent that it turns the typologies of both the (vertical, American) skyscraper and the (horizontal, Chinese) siheyuan on a 90 degree angle. The important point to make here, however, is that these two anomalous elements of the building are not of the same order. While the anomalous re-configuration of the skyscraper typology is clearly part of Koolhaas’s architectural manifesto, it is against his architectural intentionality that the CCTV Headquarters sustains the typology of the siheyuan. This bespeaks the persistent and perhaps functional presence of traditional Chinese architecture and urbanism in the building. Koolhaas’s building contains both starkly evident and more secretive anomalies. Ironically then, there is a certain truth in Koolhaas’s words, beneath the critique we made of it above as an example of American-dominated, homogenising globalisation. And the significance of the CCTV Headquarters’ hybridity as both skyscraper and siheyuan can be elaborated through Daniel M. Abramson’s thesis that a consideration of unbuilt architecture has the potential to re-open architecture to its historical conditions. Roberto Schwarz argues that “forms are the abstract of specific social relationships” (53). Drawing on Schwarz’s work and Abramson’s, we conclude that the historical presence—as secretive anomaly—of the siheyuan in the CCTV Headquarters suggests that the building’s formal debt to the siheyuan (more so than to the American skyscraper) may continue to unsettle the “specific social relationship” of Chinese to Western society (Schwarz 53). The site of this unsettlement, we suggest, is data. The CCTV Headquarters might well be the most data-rich site in all of China—it is, after all, a monumental television station. Suggestively, this wealth of airborne data is literally enclosed within the aerial “courtyard”, with its classical Chinese form, of the CCTV Headquarters. This could hardly be irrelevant in the context of the geo-politics of globalised data. The “form of data”, to coin a phrase, radiates through all the social consequences of data flow and usage, and here the form of data is entwined with a form always already saturated with social consequence. The secretive architectural anomaly of Koolhaas’s building is thus a heterotopic space within the broader Western engagement with China, so much of which relates to flows and captures of data. The Ubiquitous Siheyuan or Classical Chinese Courtyard House According to Ying Liu and Adenrele Awotona, “the courtyard house, a residential compound with buildings surrounding a courtyard on four (or sometimes three) sides, has been representative of housing patterns for over one thousand years in China” (248). Liu and Awotona state that “courtyard house patterns could be found in many parts of China, but the most typical forms are those located in the Old City in Beijing, the capital of China for over eight hundred years” (252). In their reading, the siheyuan is a peculiarly elastic architectural typology, whose influence is present as much in the Forbidden City as in the humble family home (252). Prima facie then, it is not surprising that it has also secreted itself within the architectural form of Koolhaas’s creation. It is important to note, however, that while the “most typical forms” of the siheyuan are indeed still to be found in Beijing, the courtyard house is an increasingly uncommon sight in the Chinese capital. An article in the China Daily from 2004 refers to the “few remaining siheyuan” (“Kool Enough for Beijing?”). That said, all is not lost for the siheyuan. Liu and Awotona discuss how the classical form of the courtyard house has been modified to more effectively house current residents in the older parts of Beijing while protecting “the horizontal planning feature of traditional Beijing” (254). “Basic design principles” (255) of the siheyuan have supported “a transition from the traditional single-household courtyard housing form to a contemporary multi-household courtyard housing form” (254). In this process, approaches of “urban renewal [involving] demolition” and “preservation, renovation and rebuilding” have been taken (255). Donia Zhang extends the work of Liu and Awotona in the elaboration of her thesis that “Chinese-Americans interested in building Chinese-style courtyard houses in America are keen to learn about their architectural heritage” (47). Zhang’s article concludes with an illustration that shows how the siheyuan may be merged with the typical American suburban dwelling (66). The final thing to emphasise about the siheyuan is what Liu and Awotona describe as its “special introverted quality” (249). The form is saturated with social consequence by virtue of its philosophical undergirding. The coincidence of philosophies of Daoism (including feng-shui) and Confucianism in the architecture and spatiality of the classical Chinese courtyard house makes it an exceedingly odd anomaly of passivity and power (250-51). The courtyard itself has a highly charged role in the management of family, social and cultural life, which, we suggest, survives its transposition into novel architectural environments. Figure 2: The CCTV Headquarters—Looking Up at “The Overhang”. Cher Coad, 2020. The CCTV Headquarters: A New Type of Skyscraper? Rem Koolhaas is not the only architect to interrogate the standard skyscraper typology. In his essay from 1999, “The Architecture of the Future”, Norman Foster argues that “the world’s increasing ecological crisis” (278) is in part a function of “unchecked urban sprawl” (279). A new type of skyscraper, he suggests, might at least ameliorate the sprawl of our cities: the Millennium Tower that we have proposed in Tokyo takes a traditional horizontal city quarter—housing, shops, restaurants, cinemas, museums, sporting facilities, green spaces and public transport networks—and turns it on its side to create a super-tall building with a multiplicity of uses … . It would create a virtually self-sufficient, fully self-sustaining community in the sky. (279) Koolhaas follows suit, arguing that “the actual point of the skyscraper—to increase worker density—has been lost. Skyscrapers are now only momentary points of high density spaced so far apart that they don’t actually increase density at all” (“Kool Enough for Beijing?”). Foster’s solution to urban sprawl is to make the horizontal (an urban segment) vertical; Koolhaas’s is to make the vertical horizontal: “we’ve [OMA] come up with two types: a very low-rise series of buildings, or a single, condensed hyperbuilding. What we’re doing with CCTV is a prototype of the hyperbuilding” (“Kool Enough for Beijing?”). Interestingly, the “low-rise” type mentioned here brings to mind the siheyuan—textual evidence, perhaps, that the siheyuan is always already a silent fellow traveller of the CCTV Headquarters project. The CCTV Headquarters is, even at over 200 metres tall itself, an anomaly of horizontalism amidst Beijing’s pervasive skyscraper verticality. As Paul Goldberger reports, “some Beijingers have taken to calling it Big Shorts”, which again evokes horizontality. This is its most obvious anomaly, and a somewhat melancholy reminder of “the horizontal planning feature of traditional Beijing” now mutilated by skyscrapers (Liu and Awotona 254). In the same gesture, however, with which it lays the skyscraper on its side, Koolhaas’s creation raises into the air the shape of the courtyard of a classical Chinese house. To our knowledge, no one has noticed this before, let alone written about it. It is, to be sure, a genuine courtyard shape—not merely an archway or a bridge with unoccupied space between. Pure building entirely surrounds the vertical courtyard shape formed in the air. Most images of the building provide an orientation that maximises the size of its vertical courtyard. To this extent, the (secret) courtyard shape of the building is hidden in plain sight. It is possible, however, to make the courtyard narrow to a mere slit of space, and finally to nothing, by circumnavigating the building. Certain perspectives on the building can even make it look like a more-or-less ordinary skyscraper. But, as a quick google-image search reveals, such views are rare. What seems to make the building special to people is precisely that part of it that is not building. Furthermore, anyone approaching the CCTV Headquarters with the intention of locating a courtyard typology within its form will be disappointed unless they look to its vertical plane. There is no hint of a courtyard at the base of the building. Figure 3: The CCTV Headquarters—View from “The Overhang”. Cher Coad, 2020.Figure 4: The CCTV Headquarters—Looking through the Floor of “The Overhang”. Cher Coad, 2020.Visiting the CCTV Headquarters: A “Special Introverted Quality?” In January 2020, we visited the CCTV Headquarters, ostensibly as audience members for a recording of a science spectacular show. Towards the end of the recording, we were granted a quick tour of the building. It is rare for foreigners to gain access to the sections of the building we visited. Taking the lift about 40 floors up, we arrived at the cantilever level—known informally as “the overhang”. Glass discs in the floor allow one to walk out over nothingness, looking down on ant-like pedestrians. Looking down like this was also to peer into the vacant “courtyard” of the building—into a structure “turned or pushed inward on itself”, which is the anatomical definition of “introverted” (Oxford Languages Dictionary). Workers in the building evinced no great affection for it, and certainly nothing of our wide-eyed wonder. Somebody said, “it’s just a place to work”. One of this article’s authors, Patrick West, seemed to feel the overhang almost imperceptibly vibrating beneath him. (Still, he has also experienced this sensation in conventional skyscrapers.) We were told the rumour that the building has started to tilt over dangerously. Being high in the air, but also high on the air, with nothing but air beneath us, felt edgy—somehow special—our own little world. Koolhaas promotes the CCTV Headquarters as (in paraphrase) “its own city, its own community” (“Kool Enough for Beijing?”). This resonated with us on our visit. Conventional skyscrapers fracture any sense of community through their segregated floor-upon-floor verticality; there is never enough room for a little patch of horizontal urbanism to unroll. Within “the overhang”, the CCTV Headquarters felt unlike a standard skyscraper, as if we were in an urban space magically levitated from the streets below. Sure, we had been told by one of the building’s inhabitants that it was “just a place to work”—but compared to the bleak sterility of most skyscraper work places, it wasn’t that sterile. The phrase Liu and Awotona use of the siheyuan comes to mind here, as we recall our experience; somehow, we had been inside a different type of building, one with its own “special introverted quality” (249). Special, that is, in the sense of containing just so much of horizontal urbanism as allows the building to retain its introverted quality as “its own city” (“Kool Enough for Beijing?”). Figure 5: The CCTV Headquarters—View from “The Overhang”. Cher Coad, 2020.Figure 6: The CCTV Headquarters—Inside “The Overhang”. Cher Coad, 2020. Unbuilt Architecture: The Visionary and the Contingent Within the present that it constitutes, built architecture is surrounded by unbuilt architecture at two interfaces: where the past ends; where the future begins. The soupy mix of urbanism continually spawns myriad architectural possibilities, and any given skyscraper is haunted by all the skyscrapers it might have been. History and the past hang heavily from them. Meanwhile, architectural programme or ambition—such as it is—pulls in the other direction: towards an idealised (if not impossible to practically realise) future. Along these lines, Koolhaas and the OMA are plainly a future-directed, as well as self-aware, architectural unit: at OMA we try to build in the greatest possible tolerance and the least amount of rigidity in terms of embodying one particular moment. We want our buildings to evolve. A building has at least two lives—the one imagined by its maker and the life it lives afterward—and they are never the same. (Fraioli 115) Koolhaas makes the same point even more starkly with regard to the CCTV Headquarters project through his use of the word “prototype”: “what we’re doing with CCTV is a prototype of the hyperbuilding” (“Kool Enough for Beijing?”). At the same time, however, as the presence of the siheyuan within the architecture of the CCTV Headquarters shows, the work of the OMA cannot escape from the superabundance of history, within which, as Roberto Schwarz claims, “forms are the abstract of specific social relationships” (53). Supporting our contentions here, Daniel M. Abramson notes that unbuilt architecture implies two sub-categories … the visionary unbuilt, and the contingent … . Visionary schemes invite a forward glance, down one true, vanguard path to a reformed society and discipline. The contingent unbuilts, conversely, invite a backward glance, along multiple routes history might have gone, each with its own likelihood and validity; no privileged truths. (Abramson)Introducing Abramson’s theory to the example of the CCTV Headquarters, the “visionary unbuilt” lines up with Koolhaas’ thesis that the building is a future-directed “prototype”. while the clearest candidate for the “contingent unbuilt”, we suggest, is the siheyuan. Why? Firstly, the siheyuan is hidden in plain sight, within the framing architecture of the CCTV Headquarters; secondly, it is ubiquitous in Beijing urbanism—little wonder then that it turns up, unannounced, in this Beijing building; thirdly, and related to the second point, the two buildings share a “special introverted quality” (Liu and Awotona 249). “The contingent”, in this case, is the anomaly nestled within the much more blatant “visionary” (or futuristic) anomaly—the hyperbuilding to come—of the Beijing-embedded CCTV Headquarters. Koolhaas’s building’s most fascinating anomaly relates, not to any forecast of the future, but to the subtle persistence of the past—its muted quotation of the ancient siheyuan form. Our article is, in part, a response to Abramson’s invitation to “pursue … the consequences of the unbuilt … [and thus] to open architectural history more fully to history”. We have supplemented Abramson’s idea with Schwarz’s suggestion that “forms are the abstract of specific social relationships” (53). The anomaly of the siheyuan—alongside that of the hyperbuilding—within the CCTV headquarters, opens the building up (paraphrasing Abramson) to a fuller analysis of its historical positioning within Western and Eastern flows of globalisation (or better, as we are about to suggest, of glocalisation). In parallel, its form (paraphrasing Schwarz) abstracts and re-presents this history’s specific social relationships. Figure 7: The CCTV Headquarters—A Courtyard of Data. Cher Coad, 2020.Conclusion: A Courtyard of Data and Tensions of Glocalisation Koolhaas proposes that the CCTV Headquarters was “a partnership, not a foreign imposition” and that the building “emerged from the local situation” (Fraioli 117). To us, this smacks of Pollyanna globalisation. The CCTV Headquarters is, we suggest, more accurately read as an imposition of the American skyscraper typology, albeit in anomalous form. (One might even argue that the building’s horizontal deviation from the vertical norm reinforces that norm.) Still, amidst a thicket of conventionally vertical skyscrapers, the building’s horizontalism does have the anomalous effect of recalling “the horizontal planning feature of traditional Beijing” (Liu and Awotona 254). Buried within its horizontalism, however, lies a more secretive anomaly in the form of a vertical siheyuan. This anomaly, we contend, motivates a terminological shift from “globalisation” to “glocalisation”, for the latter term better captures the notion of a lack of reconciliation between the “global” and the “local” in the building. Koolhaas’s visionary architectural programme explicitly advances anomaly. The CCTV Headquarters radically reworks the skyscraper typology as the prototype of a hyperbuilding defined by horizontalism. Certainly, such horizontalism recalls the horizontal plane of pre-skyscraper Beijing and, if faintly, that plane’s ubiquitous feature: the classical courtyard house. Simultaneously, however, the siheyuan has a direct if secretive presence within the morphology of the CCTV Headquarters, even as any suggestion of a vertical courtyard is strikingly absent from Koolhaas’s vanguard manifesto. To this extent, the hyperbuilding fits within Abramson’s category of “the visionary unbuilt”, while the siheyuan aligns with Abramson’s “contingent unbuilt” descriptor. The latter is the “might have been” that, largely under the pressure of its ubiquity as Beijing vernacular architecture, “very nearly is”. Drawing on Schwarz’s idea that “forms are the abstract of specific social relationships”, we propose that the siheyuan, as anomalous form of the CCTV Headquarters, is a heterotopic space within the hybrid global harmony (to paraphrase Koolhaas) purportedly represented by the building (53). In this space thus formed collides the built-up historical and philosophical social intensity of the classical Chinese courtyard house and the intensities of data flows and captures that help constitute the predominantly capitalist and neo-liberalist “social relationship” of China and the Western world—the world of the skyscraper (Schwarz). Within the siheyuan of the CCTV Headquarters, globalised data is literally enveloped by Daoism and Confucianism; it is saturated with the social consequence of local place. The term “glocalisation” is, we suggest, to be preferred here to “globalisation”, because of how it better reflects such vernacular interruptions to the hegemony of globalised space. Forms delineate social relationships, and data, which both forms and is formed by social relationships, may be formed by architecture as much as anything else within social space. Attention to the unbuilt architectural forms (vanguard and contingent) contained within the CCTV Headquarters reveals layers of anomaly that might, ultimately, point to another form of architecture entirely, in which glocal tensions are not only recognised, but resolved. Here, Abramson’s historical project intersects, in the final analysis, with a worldwide politics. Figure 8: The CCTV Headquarters—A Sound Stage in Action. Cher Coad, 2020. References Abramson, Daniel M. “Stakes of the Unbuilt.” Aggregate Architectural History Collaborative. 20 July 2020. <http://we-aggregate.org/piece/stakes-of-the-unbuilt>.Foster, N. “The Architecture of the Future.” The Architecture Reader: Essential Writings from Vitruvius to the Present. Ed. A. Krista Sykes. New York: George Braziller, 2007: 276-79. Fraioli, Paul. “The Invention and Reinvention of the City: An Interview with Rem Koolhaas.” Journal of International Affairs 65.2 (Spring/Summer 2012): 113-19. Goldberger, Paul. “Forbidden Cities: Beijing’s Great New Architecture Is a Mixed Blessing for the City.” The New Yorker—The Sky Line. 23 June 2008. <https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2008/06/30/forbidden-cities>.“Kool Enough for Beijing?” China Daily. 2 March 2004. <https://www.chinadaily.com.cn/english/doc/2004-03/02/content_310800.htm>. Liu, Ying, and Adenrele Awotona. “The Traditional Courtyard House in China: Its Formation and Transition.” Evolving Environmental Ideals—Changing Way of Life, Values and Design Practices: IAPS 14 Conference Proceedings. IAPS. Stockholm, Sweden: Royal Institute of Technology, 1996: 248-60. <https://iaps.architexturez.net/system/files/pdf/1202bm1029.content.pdf>.Oxford Languages Dictionary. “Rem Koolhaas Biography.” Encyclopedia of World Biography. 20 July 2020. <https://www.notablebiographies.com/news/Ge-La/Koolhaas-Rem.html>. “Rem Koolhaas Interview.” Manufacturing Intellect. Canadian Broadcasting Corporation. 2003. <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oW187PwSjY0>.Schwarz, Roberto. Misplaced Ideas: Essays on Brazilian Culture. New York: Verso, 1992. Zhang, Donia. “Classical Courtyard Houses of Beijing: Architecture as Cultural Artifact.” Space and Communication 1.1 (Dec. 2015): 47-68.