Journal articles on the topic 'Distributing channel furnace'

Nuclear fuel pellets are sintered in high-temperature furnaces in an atmosphere with strictly defined requirements for the composition of the gas environments in the furnace’s different temperature zones. The preset process conditions in the mixed nitride uranium-plutonium (MNUP) fuel pellet sintering furnace is achieved through the respective gas supply arrangement and by the design of the barriers between the temperature zones and that of the gas supply and discharge units. A CFD model was created in the Ansys Fluent package and validated for testing the functionality of the design concepts used to develop the MNUP fuel sintering furnace channel. A mockup of the sintering furnace channel, which makes a part of the gas-dynamic test bench, was developed and fabricated for the analytical model validation. The paper presents a description of the test bench design and performance for measuring the concentration of gases in the channel simulating the nitride nuclear fuel sintering furnace channel. The results of the test bench gas-dynamic studies were used for the computational and experimental justification of the approaches used to develop the sintering furnace channel. The functionality of the barriers for the sintering furnace channel division into zones with the preset composition of the gas environments and the gas supply and discharge units has been tested experimentally. The obtained experimental data on the distribution of the process gas concentration makes it possible to validate computational thermophysical and gas-dynamic CFD models of the MNUP fuel sintering furnace channel.

In past years, the exploitation of mineral resource in our country was stressed on capacity and the solid waste recycle and innocent treatment was ignored. Much valuable metal is associated and coexist with waste, it is in difficult position for present technology to recycle valuable composition in that waste, which leads to valuable component loss and environment pollution. Therefore, the development and utilization of copper refining slag is in significance. In this paper, the advantages and difficulties to process refining slag by flotation method are discussed based on property analysis of copper refining slag. The refining slag is featured by high specific gravity, high concentration, and its particles distributing at both ends of small and large size. A flotation cell with special structure of barrier grid plate and multi-loop channel is developed for refining slag processing, which provides a proper way to solve the sediment problem during refining slag flotation. The application of CLF-40(effective volume,40m3) flotation cell for processing slag mixture from flash furnace and converter is expounded, the production index shows that the Cu grade is up to 27.18% at recovery of 83.93% when slurry concentrate being 70%

Based on the theory of thermal circuits, a computer model of an induction channel furnace has been developed, which is used to obtain industrial copper wire rods in the mode of continuous casting. The model allows calculating the established electrothermal processes considering the flows of cold and molten metal in its core. In the developed thermal model, it is proposed to consider the convection fluxes of heat in the metal using controlled current sources. The temperature distribution in the active zone of the channel furnace is calculated, and the influence of the mass flow of metal at the inlet and outlet of the furnace on the non-uniformity of temperature distribution in the active zone is shown. The obtained results allow determining the required electric power of the furnace at different values ​​of the flow rate of the metal that moves continuously through its core while heating to a given temperature. The developed model is relatively easy to implement, using the Matlab/Simulink package, and allows online to estimate the melt temperature in different zones depending on the electric power consumed by the furnace and the metal consumption at the outlet of the furnace, as well as to determine rational modes of its operation. Ref. 7, fig. 4.

A three-dimensional mathematical model is developed to describe the influence of AGD beams on gas distribution in COREX-3000 shaft furnace. The calculated result shows that with AGD beams installed, the pressure drop in furnace is decreased while the volume of low velocity zone at bottom of furnace is enlarged. AGD channels can lead reduction gas into shaft center, and increase the gas velocity at slots level, but it have little effect on gas distribution at upper part of the furnace. AGD beams are also good at restraining down pipe gas, and the volume fraction of down pipe gas declines from 9.89 % to 6.41 %, decreases about 35.2%. 2#COREX furnace with AGD beams is better at achieving uniform gas distribution.

This article deals with a strategy of advanced extreme-optimal high-output energy-saving uniform exploratory control for the heating of concast slabs under the broad hot-rolling mill working modes with unsteady outputs to achieve guaranteed metal heating. The implemented advanced extreme-optimal exploratory control development strategy for production processes is analyzed using the specific example of efficient guaranteed optimum control of the heating parameters in through-feed furnaces. We review the best variational and exploratory extreme control methods for three interrelated heating processes: the distribution of fuel along the length of the furnace body and over time; the optimal control of fuel-burning to obtain the best calorific effect possible; the optimum heat-saving control for combustion product ejection through the reduced heat losses due to suction and knocking out. The operability and feasibility of the suggested extreme-optimal control are achieved using the simplified dynamic heat exchange model along the “fuel consumption” - “billet center temperature” channel with the surface temperature of the heated billets used as the main monitoring and control parameter. We analyzed the efficient method of automated autonomous positive control for the real thermal condition of each of the billets before they are ejected from the furnace to prevent the possibility of feeding underheated billets to the rolling mill, as well as emergencies in the mill. This system provides a forecast for the expected breakdown temperature for each of the billets before they are ejected from the furnace under the energy-saving operational mode. We present the results of the practical implementation of the extreme-optimal control for metal heating at four Russian high-output rolling mills that have a significant economic effect with minimum costs of software (digital) implementation of the suggested control concept.

The electrical magnetic field plays an important role in controlling the molten steel flow, heat transfer and migration of inclusions. However, industrial tests for inclusion distribution in a single-strand tundish under the electromagnetic field have never been reported before. The distribution of non-metallic inclusions in steel is still uncertain in an induction-heating (IH) tundish. In the present study, therefore, using numerical simulation methods, we simulate the flow and heat transfer characteristics of molten steel in the channel-type IH tundish, especially in the channel. At the same time, industrial trials were carried out on the channel-type IH tundish, and the temperature distribution of the tundish with or without IH under different pouring ladle furnace was analyzed. The method of scanning electron microscopy was employed to obtain the distribution of inclusions on different channel sections. The flow characteristics of molten steel in the channel change with flow time, and the single vortex and double vortex alternately occur under the electromagnetic field. The heat loss of molten steel can be compensated in a tundish with IH. As heating for 145 s, the temperature of the molten steel in the channel increases by 31.8 K. It demonstrates that the temperature of the molten steel in the tundish can be kept at the target value of around 1813 K, fluctuating up and down 3 K after using electromagnetic IH. In the IH channel, the large inclusions with diameters greater than 9 μm are more concentrated at the edge of the channel, and the effect of IH on the inclusion with diameters less than 9 μm has little effect.

Blast-iron-furnace plantations were widespread throughout colonial and postcolonial America and therefore represent sites of specific archaeological interest. Because such plantations often were a really extensive, historical reconstruction of a site is challenging using conventional archaeological field techniques alone. Therefore, we appraise the usefulness of integrating magnetic gradiometer, electrical-resistivity tomography (ERT), and electromagnetic (EM31) data in detecting and delineating buried structures related to former operation of the Shade furnace, a typical industrial plantation in 19th-century Pennsylvania. The geophysical results were ground-truthed in seven locations by archaeological excavation. Geophysical results demonstrated that (1) the distribution of remaining original soils could be mapped; (2) waste materials (e.g., slag, used brick, burned charcoal, iron ore, and broken-up sandstone or limestone) within or above the original soils could be detected and delineated, whether the material occurred in pits or lenses or was dispersed across the ground surface; and (3) the location and spatial extent of many former structures related to furnace operation could be identified, such as building or bridge foundations and casting-related structures (e.g., the tapping channel or the casting floor, and the former courses of a water canal (raceway) and a supply road). We conclude that geophysical techniques can play a key role in reconstructing man-made ground at former industrial furnace sites in North America.

The article explores the causes of working environment pollution and identifies the sources of harmful and dangerous emissions in pig iron production, along with searching for rational measures to improve the blast furnace cast house aspiration system efficiency to remove toxic gases, dust and exhaust heat. A mathematical modeling methodology for transfer process of molten iron and slag from the blast furnace to the ladle has been employed. The best practice from Zaporizhstal Steel Works on a new aspiration system at blast furnace casting yard laid the basis for the research. An aerodynamic calculation method was used to detect deficiencies in the aspiration system. Statistical method to validate the results obtained was used for constructing of graphs and nomograms. The major causes of inefficiency of the current system of covering iron and slag troughs of a blast furnace casting yard have been revealed, in particular the bypass channel for slag from the main drain trough for molten iron and high local resistance losses on iron and slag distribution (the skimmers). Total and local resistance losses in various areas of drain gutters and aspiration systems have been calculated along with estimating the locations for additional exhaust hood installation, i.e. the special zones for skimmers, the main, transfer and bypass troughs for cast iron and slag. It is proved that by increasing the aspiration efficiency contamination of the working area is reduced, thus improving labour conditions significantly. It is proposed to use modern heat-resistant concrete troughs with higher resistance and longer life service. The proposed modification of trough slabs will facilitate their replacement when carrying out repair works on trough lining and cleaning. An aspiration system model for a typical blast furnace cast house has been developed and explored. The areas and reasons behind the loss of resistance in the exhaust system of hood covering for molten iron and slag troughs are identified. Recommendations to enhance the system efficiency to reduce contamination of the working environment and improve working conditions have been suggested.

This work studies how non-premixed turbulent combustion in a rotary kiln depends on the geometry of the secondary air inlet channel. We target a kiln in which temperatures can reach values above 1800 degrees Kelvin. Monitoring and possible mitigation of the thermal nitric-oxide (NOx) formation is of utmost importance. The performed reactive flow simulations result in detailed maps of the spatial distribution of the flow, thermodynamics and chemical conditions of the kiln. These maps provide valuable information to the operator of the kiln. The simulations show the difference between the existing and the newly proposed geometry of the secondary air inlet. In the existing configuration, the secondary air inlet is rectangular and located above the base of the burner pipe. The secondary air flows into the furnace from the top of the flame. The heat release by combustion is unevenly distributed throughout the flame. In the new geometry, the secondary air inlet is an annular ring placed around the burner pipe. The secondary air flows circumferentially around the burner pipe. The new secondary air inlet geometry is shown to result in a more homogeneous spatial distribution of the heat release throughout the flame. The peak temperatures of the flame and the production of thermal NOx are significantly reduced. Further research is required to resolve limitations of various choices in our modeling approach.

The high utilization of the melting space for the bubble removal processes asks for the detailed examination of fining space geometry and glass flow character inside the space. The relative significance of the space utilization for fining may be assessed from simplified models of bubble removal from fining spaces. This work demonstrates how the temperature distribution and resulting glass flow patterns in the simple melting space (horizontal channel) affect the character of bubble removal from the melt due to variable utilization of the space for the process. In performed calculations, the fining performance of the channel producing no bubble defects is the followed technological quantity. The experimentally measured bubble growth rates in the TV model glass were used to evaluate the fining process. To appreciate the impact of glass flow character on the fining efficiency, the numerical model (Glass furnace model – Glass Service, Inc.) was applied, providing the temperature and melt velocity fields, as well as bubble pathways in the channel under given temperature boundary conditions. The results have shown that the character of glass melt flow and the space utilization from the point of view of the bubble removal process may be described by two quantities: the virtual height of bubble rising (the height which the bubble has to rise against downward glass melt flow to the level) and the virtual fraction of dead space for the bubble removal process (the space ineffective for the removal of the critical bubble). The results are intended to assist in developing new concepts of industrial fining spaces.

The carbon dissolution of coke pieces in hot metal mainly influences the carbon content and carbon saturation temperature in the ironmaking process. The liquid metal and slag start to drop down in the dripping zone (DZ) which is located the lower part of blast furnaces. The dissolution of carbon in liquid metal and slag droplets passing the stagnant hot gas flow in the fixed coke bed of the dripping zone were observed by a multi-droplet model based on the Computational Fluid Dynamics (CFD) method. The uniform-coke pattern was set in the model following the preferred distribution of a one-layer packed bed from a water droplet experiment. The different coke shapes relating to the shape factor from 0.75-1.0 were observed in a 40mm-coke bed. For one-time drainage, the carbon dissolution slightly increased after flow in the coke bed zone and showed a high percentage on the coke surface. The concavity and convexity of coke pieces have more effect on the interaction between liquid and coke surface. Besides, the carbon dissolution can be investigated to approach the coke consumption in one coke channel and estimate the carbon content and carbon saturation temperature of liquid metal after draining.

Effective control of thermal state of a blast furnace (BF), considerably depending on the qualification of the technological personal, is an important condition for smelting of hot metal of required composition. Application of computer training systems (CTS) in the process of education of technological personal of BF shops is one of the effective methods of professional knowledge and skill perfection. The CTS, implemented at PAO NLMK, based on a model of thermal state of BF, elaborated in Ural Federal University and supplemented with the models of existing disturbances. Adjusting of dynamic characteristics accomplished on the base of regularity of heat- and mass exchange. According to the tasks of BF heat operative control, during the training at the CTS transient processes are studied through channels of BF thermal state control, skill is mastered to identify the tendencies of BF thermal state change in case of non-controlled disturbances action. Most important stage of the training – implementation of adequate solutions to compensate declination of BF thermal state parameters from the set-up level. The CTS implemented at PAO NLMK is operating in the mode of training and testing. The main parameters of BF operation for every particular scenario are displayed at a mnemonic diagram, which completely corresponds to the mnemonic diagram of particular BF. Within the frame of transient processes dynamics studies, tasks are stipulated to modify a BF thermal state by application of control programs. When a scenario of BF thermal state control in case of non-controlled disturbances action is realized, the process parameters change is imitated at the mnemonic diagram. It will be done in case of one of the following parameters change: coke quality change, reducibility change, iron ore material grain size change, distribution of ore by radius change. The CTS includes a module of administration, which allows collecting the statistics of tasks fulfilment by pupils and estimating the results according to accepted algorithm. The application of CTS enabled to perfect the competence of technological personal, which was expressed by declining of off-grade hot metal share.

The theoretical foundations of construction, mathematical description and engineering calculation of heat exchangers of the serpentine type in blocks of heat-using equipment of tube furnaces and other types of reactors designed for carrying out endothermic reactions (in particular, reforming of natural gas with water vapor) are considered. It is shown that the thermal efficiency of heat exchangers of the coil type is significantly affected by the correct choice of parameters ensuring a uniform distribution of energy flows over the surface of heat-resistant heat exchange tubes. This technological problem is solved by compiling the heat balance and selecting the system of the corresponding equations, which allows to calculate the temperature contour of the coil heat exchanger, its hydrodynamic characteristics and the distribution of mass and heat flows through the heat exchange tubes. The use of the tensor form of the Boussinesq hypothesis is considered, with which the Reynolds equation describing a turbulent flow is transformed to a partial differential equation for a single unknown function and its averaged form is obtained. In relation to the problem under consideration, the correctness of the chosen approach was confirmed both theoretically and experimentally. It is shown that in the core of a turbulent flow with an intense suction or injection, the liquid behaves almost as ideal and the well-known Helmholtz – Friedmann theorem holds with the necessary accuracy. From the aforementioned averaged equation, expressions are obtained that are suitable for describing heat fluxes in channels with suction or injection. According to this theoretical model, thermal calculations of coil-type heat exchangers were carried out, a more accurate assessment of the temperature of the heated medium in each coil tube was made, and the temperature gradient of the external heat carrier over the cross section of the gas duct was found. For the first time in the practice of calculations when choosing the parameters of coils, a number of boundary conditions were taken into account, such as the condition of the coil layout, the necessary heat exchange surface, permissible restrictions on hydraulic resistance, etc.

The Rivulidae fish family, which includes Neotropical seasonal killifishes, is one of the most diverse taxonomic groups in the aquatic systems of Caatinga in Brazil. Cynolebias and Hypsolebias genera, with 20 and 35 endemic species, respectively, concentrate the greatest diversity of rivulid species in the semiarid. Sixty-eight years after the first records of annual killifishes in the Mid-Northeastern Caatinga ecoregion (MNCE), only four valid species have been sampled in this area. Here we combined bibliographic surveys and recent samplings to investigate the distribution of seasonal rivulids in MNCE. Twenty-one records were obtained, nine of which are new localities, expanding the distribution of three species: Hypsolebias martinsi, H. antenori and Cynolebias microphthalmus. Hypsolebias longignatus is still only known from its type locality in Ceará, near the Environmental Protection Area in Pacoti River, and has not been sampled ever since its description in 2008. Among the four species present in MNCE, H. antenori is the only species occurring within the limits of a conservation unit in the Furna Feia National Park. Anthropogenic impacts were observed in most temporary habitats visited, which ranged from river channel to small ponds in cave entrances. All records are found in coastal basins that discharge in the northern coast of the MNCE, in Ceará and Rio Grande do Norte states, which are crucial for the conservation of the Caatinga’s killifishes. The results also evidenced the importance of karstic habitats in the Jandaíra Formation as potential biotopes for seasonal fish in MNCE. This information must be used to update the conservation status of these species and highlight the importance of strategies for preserving the Caatinga’s temporary aquatic habitats, which should be considered for environmental licensing purposes.

ABSTRACTIn order to prevent boron penetration in PMOS transistors without degrading channel mobility, it is necessary to engineer the distribution of nitrogen introduced into the gate oxide. We have investigated methods of engineering this distribution using nitric oxide (NO) gas in an RTP system to thermally nitride ultra-thin gate oxides. In one approach, the gate oxide is simultaneously grown and nitrided in a mixture of nitric oxide and oxygen. For a 40 Å film, SIMS depth profiling shows that this process moves the nitrogen peak into the bulk of the oxide away from the oxide silicon interface. In another approach, an 11 Å chemical oxide produced by a standard pre-furnace wet clean is nitrided in NO at 800 deg. C. This film is subsequently reoxidized in either oxygen or steam. For an 1100 deg. C., 120 sec RTP reoxidation in oxygen, the final film thickness is 41 Å. The nitrogen has a peak concentration of 5 at. % and the peak is located in the oxide 25 Åfrom the oxide/silicon interface. Ramped voltage breakdown testing was carried out on MOS capacitors built using reoxidized NO nitrided films. They have breakdown characteristics that are equivalent to conventional furnace grown oxides. These films show considerable promise as gate dielectrics for CMOS technologies at geometries of 0.25um and below.

Soil and groundwater remediation Act was enacted in year 2000. More than ten years has already passed, Monitoring project has been completed,pollution status has been defined,contaminated sites depollution have been launched,a great progress has been made. This paper majorly to depict the extensive farmland soil qauality monittoring which is unpredent in Taiwan and believe has never been done worldwide. This project was initiated from February 8th, 2002 to August 8th, 2002. The project tasks including digitalization of cadastre, farmland listing, basic information collecting, field investigation, sampling & analysis planning, field sampling, soil sample analysis, data evaluation, suggestion of contaminated farmland control, and analysis of potential pollution sources and transfer routes. 2,251 soil samples,had been sampled from Chang-Hwa County, Yun-Lin County, Nan-Tao County, and Chia-Yi City, and been analyzed in this project. 44% of these samples concentration exceed the soil pollution control standard (Table 1), including 492 farmlands (125.65 ha registered) with total contaminated farming area of 108.38 ha in Chang-Hwa, and 6 farmlands (0.39 ha registered) with total contaminated farming area of 0.39 ha in Nan-Tao County. However, the concentration of samples from Ynu-Lin County and Chia-Yi City do not exceed the soil pollution control standard. To coordinate with the investigation results of the relative project regarding to water and sediment quality of irrigation channels in Chang-Hwa area, the pollution sources are preliminary concluded to be the irrigation channels surrounding the farmlands in Chang-Hwa area. As to the Nan-Tao County, the abandoned brick furnace plants neighboring the farmland are suspected to beThe pollution sources. The results show that the soil of the investigation area in Chang-Hwa County is the most polluted. Base on the Geostatistics study and the distribution of the irrigation channels; the area neighboring the investigated farmland in this project is suspected being polluted. For the farmlands exceeding soil control standard, Geostatistics method is suggested to coordinate with the information of the irrigation system to clarify the contaminated area so as to be the basis of land control and remediation work. As to the farmlands, not being investigated in this project but with high pollution potential according to the Geostatistics study, detail investigations are suggested. Regarding to soil pollution remediation, it is suggested to coordinate with the effluent control and irrigation channel remediationto achieve an all-out success.

Abstract Carbon black pigments are manufactured today mainly by modern chemical processes in industrial scale production. They are the most important representatives of black pigments. Carbon black pigments have a number of advantages compared with other inorganic black pigments and with black organic colorants. Hiding power, color stability, solvent resistance, acid and alkali resistance as well as thermal stability are excellent good properties that are not achieved from other blacks. Carbon black pigments are applied in most of the pigment relevant systems, such as printing inks, paints and coatings, plastics, and cosmetics. They are produced by several industrial processes. Furnace blacks, channel blacks and gas blacks have the highest importance among the various carbon blacks. Particle size, particle size distribution, surface quality and structure determine the coloristic and application technical properties of the individual pigments. Oxidative aftertreatment is used in many cases to modify the surface of the pigments concerning the stability and the compatibility with the application system. Particle management, aftertreatment and the provision of pigment preparations are suitable ways for the improvement of the pigments and the optimization of the dosage form.

Biology teaches us that organisms adapt—or don’t; sociology claims that people adapt—or don’t. We know that ideas can adapt; sometimes even institutions can adapt. Or not. Various papers in this issue attest in exciting ways to precisely such adaptations and maladaptations. (See, for example, the articles in this issue by Lelia Green, Leesa Bonniface, and Tami McMahon, by Lexey A. Bartlett, and by Debra Ferreday.) Adaptation is a part of nature and culture, but it’s the latter alone that interests me here. (However, see the article by Hutcheon and Bortolotti for a discussion of nature and culture together.) It’s no news to anyone that not only adaptations, but all art is bred of other art, though sometimes artists seem to get carried away. My favourite example of excess of association or attribution can be found in the acknowledgements page to a verse drama called Beatrice Chancy by the self-defined “maximalist” (not minimalist) poet, novelist, librettist, and critic, George Elliot Clarke. His selected list of the incarnations of the story of Beatrice Cenci, a sixteenth-century Italian noblewoman put to death for the murder of her father, includes dramas, romances, chronicles, screenplays, parodies, sculptures, photographs, and operas: dramas by Vincenzo Pieracci (1816), Percy Bysshe Shelley (1819), Juliusz Slowacki (1843), Waldter Landor (1851), Antonin Artaud (1935) and Alberto Moravia (1958); the romances by Francesco Guerrazi (1854), Henri Pierangeli (1933), Philip Lindsay (1940), Frederic Prokosch (1955) and Susanne Kircher (1976); the chronicles by Stendhal (1839), Mary Shelley (1839), Alexandre Dumas, père (1939-40), Robert Browning (1864), Charles Swinburne (1883), Corrado Ricci (1923), Sir Lionel Cust (1929), Kurt Pfister (1946) and Irene Mitchell (1991); the film/screenplay by Bertrand Tavernier and Colo O’Hagan (1988); the parody by Kathy Acker (1993); the sculpture by Harriet Hosmer (1857); the photograph by Julia Ward Cameron (1866); and the operas by Guido Pannain (1942), Berthold Goldschmidt (1951, 1995) and Havergal Brian (1962). (Beatrice Chancy, 152) He concludes the list with: “These creators have dallied with Beatrice Cenci, but I have committed indiscretions” (152). An “intertextual feast”, by Clarke’s own admission, this rewriting of Beatrice’s story—especially Percy Bysshe Shelley’s own verse play, The Cenci—illustrates brilliantly what Northrop Frye offered as the first principle of the production of literature: “literature can only derive its form from itself” (15). But in the last several decades, what has come to be called intertextuality theory has shifted thinking away from looking at this phenomenon from the point of view of authorial influences on the writing of literature (and works like Harold Bloom’s famous study of the Anxiety of Influence) and toward considering our readerly associations with literature, the connections we (not the author) make—as we read. We, the readers, have become “empowered”, as we say, and we’ve become the object of academic study in our own right. Among the many associations we inevitably make, as readers, is with adaptations of the literature we read, be it of Jane Austin novels or Beowulf. Some of us may have seen the 2006 rock opera of Beowulf done by the Irish Repertory Theatre; others await the new Neil Gaiman animated film. Some may have played the Beowulf videogame. I personally plan to miss the upcoming updated version that makes Beowulf into the son of an African explorer. But I did see Sturla Gunnarsson’s Beowulf and Grendel film, and yearned to see the comic opera at the Lincoln Centre Festival in 2006 called Grendel, the Transcendence of the Great Big Bad. I am not really interested in whether these adaptations—all in the last year or so—signify Hollywood’s need for a new “monster of the week” or are just the sign of a desire to cash in on the success of The Lord of the Rings. For all I know they might well act as an ethical reminder of the human in the alien in a time of global strife (see McGee, A4). What interests me is the impact these multiple adaptations can have on the reader of literature as well as on the production of literature. Literature, like painting, is usually thought of as what Nelson Goodman (114) calls a one-stage art form: what we read (like what we see on a canvas) is what is put there by the originating artist. Several major consequences follow from this view. First, the implication is that the work is thus an original and new creation by that artist. However, even the most original of novelists—like Salman Rushdie—are the first to tell you that stories get told and retold over and over. Indeed his controversial novel, The Satanic Verses, takes this as a major theme. Works like the Thousand and One Nights are crucial references in all of his work. As he writes in Haroun and the Sea of Stories: “no story comes from nowhere; new stories are born of old” (86). But illusion of originality is only one of the implications of seeing literature as a one-stage art form. Another is the assumption that what the writer put on paper is what we read. But entire doctoral programs in literary production and book history have been set up to study how this is not the case, in fact. Editors influence, even change, what authors want to write. Designers control how we literally see the work of literature. Beatrice Chancy’s bookend maps of historical Acadia literally frame how we read the historical story of the title’s mixed-race offspring of an African slave and a white slave owner in colonial Nova Scotia in 1801. Media interest or fashion or academic ideological focus may provoke a publisher to foreground in the physical presentation different elements of a text like this—its stress on race, or gender, or sexuality. The fact that its author won Canada’s Governor General’s Award for poetry might mean that the fact that this is a verse play is emphasised. If the book goes into a second edition, will a new preface get added, changing the framework for the reader once again? As Katherine Larson has convincingly shown, the paratextual elements that surround a work of literature like this one become a major site of meaning generation. What if literature were not a one-stage an art form at all? What if it were, rather, what Goodman calls “two-stage” (114)? What if we accept that other artists, other creators, are needed to bring it to life—editors, publishers, and indeed readers? In a very real and literal sense, from our (audience) point of view, there may be no such thing as a one-stage art work. Just as the experience of literature is made possible for readers by the writer, in conjunction with a team of professional and creative people, so, arguably all art needs its audience to be art; the un-interpreted, un-experienced art work is not worth calling art. Goodman resists this move to considering literature a two-stage art, not at all sure that readings are end products the way that performance works are (114). Plays, films, television shows, or operas would be his prime examples of two-stage arts. In each of these, a text (a playtext, a screenplay, a score, a libretto) is moved from page to stage or screen and given life, by an entire team of creative individuals: directors, actors, designers, musicians, and so on. Literary adaptations to the screen or stage are usually considered as yet another form of this kind of transcription or transposition of a written text to a performance medium. But the verbal move from the “book” to the diminutive “libretto” (in Italian, little book or booklet) is indicative of a view that sees adaptation as a step downward, a move away from a primary literary “source”. In fact, an entire negative rhetoric of “infidelity” has developed in both journalistic reviewing and academic discourse about adaptations, and it is a morally loaded rhetoric that I find surprising in its intensity. Here is the wonderfully critical description of that rhetoric by the king of film adaptation critics, Robert Stam: Terms like “infidelity,” “betrayal,” “deformation,” “violation,” “bastardisation,” “vulgarisation,” and “desecration” proliferate in adaptation discourse, each word carrying its specific charge of opprobrium. “Infidelity” carries overtones of Victorian prudishness; “betrayal” evokes ethical perfidy; “bastardisation” connotes illegitimacy; “deformation” implies aesthetic disgust and monstrosity; “violation” calls to mind sexual violence; “vulgarisation” conjures up class degradation; and “desecration” intimates religious sacrilege and blasphemy. (3) I join many others today, like Stam, in challenging the persistence of this fidelity discourse in adaptation studies, thereby providing yet another example of what, in his article here called “The Persistence of Fidelity: Adaptation Theory Today,” John Connor has called the “fidelity reflex”—the call to end an obsession with fidelity as the sole criterion for judging the success of an adaptation. But here I want to come at this same issue of the relation of adaptation to the adapted text from another angle. When considering an adaptation of a literary work, there are other reasons why the literary “source” text might be privileged. Literature has historical priority as an art form, Stam claims, and so in some people’s eyes will always be superior to other forms. But does it actually have priority? What about even earlier performative forms like ritual and song? Or to look forward, instead of back, as Tim Barker urges us to do in his article here, what about the new media’s additions to our repertoire with the advent of electronic technology? How can we retain this hierarchy of artistic forms—with literature inevitably on top—in a world like ours today? How can both the Romantic ideology of original genius and the capitalist notion of individual authorship hold up in the face of the complex reality of the production of literature today (as well as in the past)? (In “Amen to That: Sampling and Adapting the Past”, Steve Collins shows how digital technology has changed the possibilities of musical creativity in adapting/sampling.) Like many other ages before our own, adaptation is rampant today, as director Spike Jonze and screenwriter Charlie Kaufman clearly realised in creating Adaptation, their meta-cinematic illustration-as-send-up film about adaptation. But rarely has a culture denigrated the adapter as a secondary and derivative creator as much as we do the screenwriter today—as Jonze explores with great irony. Michelle McMerrin and Sergio Rizzo helpfully explain in their pieces here that one of the reasons for this is the strength of auteur theory in film criticism. But we live in a world in which works of literature have been turned into more than films. We now have literary adaptations in the forms of interactive new media works and videogames; we have theme parks; and of course, we have the more common television series, radio and stage plays, musicals, dance works, and operas. And, of course, we now have novelisations of films—and they are not given the respect that originary novels are given: it is the adaptation as adaptation that is denigrated, as Deborah Allison shows in “Film/Print: Novelisations and Capricorn One”. Adaptations across media are inevitably fraught, and for complex and multiple reasons. The financing and distribution issues of these widely different media alone inevitably challenge older capitalist models. The need or desire to appeal to a global market has consequences for adaptations of literature, especially with regard to its regional and historical specificities. These particularities are what usually get adapted or “indigenised” for new audiences—be they the particularities of the Spanish gypsy Carmen (see Ioana Furnica, “Subverting the ‘Good, Old Tune’”), those of the Japanese samurai genre (see Kevin P. Eubanks, “Becoming-Samurai: Samurai [Films], Kung-Fu [Flicks] and Hip-Hop [Soundtracks]”), of American hip hop graffiti (see Kara-Jane Lombard, “‘To Us Writers, the Differences Are Obvious’: The Adaptation of Hip Hop Graffiti to an Australian Context”) or of Jane Austen’s fiction (see Suchitra Mathur, “From British ‘Pride’ to Indian ‘Bride’: Mapping the Contours of a Globalised (Post?)Colonialism”). What happens to the literary text that is being adapted, often multiple times? Rather than being displaced by the adaptation (as is often feared), it most frequently gets a new life: new editions of the book appear, with stills from the movie adaptation on its cover. But if I buy and read the book after seeing the movie, I read it differently than I would have before I had seen the film: in effect, the book, not the adaptation, has become the second and even secondary text for me. And as I read, I can only “see” characters as imagined by the director of the film; the cinematic version has taken over, has even colonised, my reader’s imagination. The literary “source” text, in my readerly, experiential terms, becomes the secondary work. It exists on an experiential continuum, in other words, with its adaptations. It may have been created before, but I only came to know it after. What if I have read the literary work first, and then see the movie? In my imagination, I have already cast the characters: I know what Gabriel and Gretta Conroy of James Joyce’s story, “The Dead,” look and sound like—in my imagination, at least. Then along comes John Huston’s lush period piece cinematic adaptation and the director superimposes his vision upon mine; his forcibly replaces mine. But, in this particular case, Huston still arguably needs my imagination, or at least my memory—though he may not have realised it fully in making the film. When, in a central scene in the narrative, Gabriel watches his wife listening, moved, to the singing of the Irish song, “The Lass of Aughrim,” what we see on screen is a concerned, intrigued, but in the end rather blank face: Gabriel doesn’t alter his expression as he listens and watches. His expression may not change—but I know exactly what he is thinking. Huston does not tell us; indeed, without the use of voice-over, he cannot. And since the song itself is important, voice-over is impossible. But I know exactly what he is thinking: I’ve read the book. I fill in the blank, so to speak. Gabriel looks at Gretta and thinks: There was grace and mystery in her attitude as if she were a symbol of something. He asked himself what is a woman standing on the stairs in the shadow, listening to distant music, a symbol of. If he were a painter he would paint her in that attitude. … Distant Music he would call the picture if he were a painter. (210) A few pages later the narrator will tell us: At last she turned towards them and Gabriel saw that there was colour on her cheeks and that her eyes were shining. A sudden tide of joy went leaping out of his heart. (212) This joy, of course, puts him in a very different—disastrously different—state of mind than his wife, who (we later learn) is remembering a young man who sang that song to her when she was a girl—and who died, for love of her. I know this—because I’ve read the book. Watching the movie, I interpret Gabriel’s blank expression in this knowledge. Just as the director’s vision can colonise my visual and aural imagination, so too can I, as reader, supplement the film’s silence with the literary text’s inner knowledge. The question, of course, is: should I have to do so? Because I have read the book, I will. But what if I haven’t read the book? Will I substitute my own ideas, from what I’ve seen in the rest of the film, or from what I’ve experienced in my own life? Filmmakers always have to deal with this problem, of course, since the camera is resolutely externalising, and actors must reveal their inner worlds through bodily gesture or facial expression for the camera to record and for the spectator to witness and comprehend. But film is not only a visual medium: it uses music and sound, and it also uses words—spoken words within the dramatic situation, words overheard on the street, on television, but also voice-over words, spoken by a narrating figure. Stephen Dedalus escapes from Ireland at the end of Joseph Strick’s 1978 adaptation of Joyce’s A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man with the same words as he does in the novel, where they appear as Stephen’s diary entry: Amen. So be it. Welcome, O life! I go to encounter for the millionth time the reality of experience and to forge in the smithy of my soul the uncreated conscience of my race. … Old father, old artificer, stand me now and ever in good stead. (253) The words from the novel also belong to the film as film, with its very different story, less about an artist than about a young Irishman finally able to escape his family, his religion and his country. What’s deliberately NOT in the movie is the irony of Joyce’s final, benign-looking textual signal to his reader: Dublin, 1904 Trieste, 1914 The first date is the time of Stephen’s leaving Dublin—and the time of his return, as we know from the novel Ulysses, the sequel, if you like, to this novel. The escape was short-lived! Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man has an ironic structure that has primed its readers to expect not escape and triumph but something else. Each chapter of the novel has ended on this kind of personal triumphant high; the next has ironically opened with Stephen mired in the mundane and in failure. Stephen’s final words in both film and novel remind us that he really is an Icarus figure, following his “Old father, old artificer”, his namesake, Daedalus. And Icarus, we recall, takes a tumble. In the novel version, we are reminded that this is the portrait of the artist “as a young man”—later, in 1914, from the distance of Trieste (to which he has escaped) Joyce, writing this story, could take some ironic distance from his earlier persona. There is no such distance in the film version. However, it stands alone, on its own; Joyce’s irony is not appropriate in Strick’s vision. His is a different work, with its own message and its own, considerably more romantic and less ironic power. Literary adaptations are their own things—inspired by, based on an adapted text but something different, something other. I want to argue that these works adapted from literature are now part of our readerly experience of that literature, and for that reason deserve the same attention we give to the literary, and not only the same attention, but also the same respect. I am a literarily trained person. People like me who love words, already love plays, but shouldn’t we also love films—and operas, and musicals, and even videogames? There is no need to denigrate words that are heard (and visualised) in order to privilege words that are read. Works of literature can have afterlives in their adaptations and translations, just as they have pre-lives, in terms of influences and models, as George Eliot Clarke openly allows in those acknowledgements to Beatrice Chancy. I want to return to that Canadian work, because it raises for me many of the issues about adaptation and language that I see at the core of our literary distrust of the move away from the written, printed text. I ended my recent book on adaptation with a brief examination of this work, but I didn’t deal with this particular issue of language. So I want to return to it, as to unfinished business. Clarke is, by the way, clear in the verse drama as well as in articles and interviews that among the many intertexts to Beatrice Chancy, the most important are slave narratives, especially one called Celia, a Slave, and Shelley’s play, The Cenci. Both are stories of mistreated and subordinated women who fight back. Since Clarke himself has written at length about the slave narratives, I’m going to concentrate here on Shelley’s The Cenci. The distance from Shelley’s verse play to Clarke’s verse play is a temporal one, but it is also geographic and ideological one: from the old to the new world, and from a European to what Clarke calls an “Africadian” (African Canadian/African Acadian) perspective. Yet both poets were writing political protest plays against unjust authority and despotic power. And they have both become plays that are more read than performed—a sad fate, according to Clarke, for two works that are so concerned with voice. We know that Shelley sought to calibrate the stylistic registers of his work with various dramatic characters and effects to create a modern “mixed” style that was both a return to the ancients and offered a new drama of great range and flexibility where the expression fits what is being expressed (see Bruhn). His polemic against eighteenth-century European dramatic conventions has been seen as leading the way for realist drama later in the nineteenth century, with what has been called its “mixed style mimesis” (Bruhn) Clarke’s adaptation does not aim for Shelley’s perfect linguistic decorum. It mixes the elevated and the biblical with the idiomatic and the sensual—even the vulgar—the lushly poetic with the coarsely powerful. But perhaps Shelley’s idea of appropriate language fits, after all: Beatrice Chancy is a woman of mixed blood—the child of a slave woman and her slave owner; she has been educated by her white father in a convent school. Sometimes that educated, elevated discourse is heard; at other times, she uses the variety of discourses operative within slave society—from religious to colloquial. But all the time, words count—as in all printed and oral literature. Clarke’s verse drama was given a staged reading in Toronto in 1997, but the story’s, if not the book’s, real second life came when it was used as the basis for an opera libretto. Actually the libretto commission came first (from Queen of Puddings Theatre in Toronto), and Clarke started writing what was to be his first of many opera texts. Constantly frustrated by the art form’s demands for concision, he found himself writing two texts at once—a short libretto and a longer, five-act tragic verse play to be published separately. Since it takes considerably longer to sing than to speak (or read) a line of text, the composer James Rolfe keep asking for cuts—in the name of economy (too many singers), because of clarity of action for audience comprehension, or because of sheer length. Opera audiences have to sit in a theatre for a fixed length of time, unlike readers who can put a book down and return to it later. However, what was never sacrificed to length or to the demands of the music was the language. In fact, the double impact of the powerful mixed language and the equally potent music, increases the impact of the literary text when performed in its operatic adaptation. Here is the verse play version of the scene after Beatrice’s rape by her own father, Francis Chancey: I was black but comely. Don’t glance Upon me. This flesh is crumbling Like proved lies. I’m perfumed, ruddied Carrion. Assassinated. Screams of mucking juncos scrawled Over the chapel and my nerves, A stickiness, as when he finished Maculating my thighs and dress. My eyes seep pus; I can’t walk: the floors Are tizzy, dented by stout mauling. Suddenly I would like poison. The flesh limps from my spine. My inlets crimp. Vultures flutter, ghastly, without meaning. I can see lice swarming the air. … His scythe went shick shick shick and slashed My flowers; they lay, murdered, in heaps. (90) The biblical and the violent meet in the texture of the language. And none of that power gets lost in the opera adaptation, despite cuts and alterations for easier aural comprehension. I was black but comely. Don’t look Upon me: this flesh is dying. I’m perfumed, bleeding carrion, My eyes weep pus, my womb’s sopping With tears; I can hardly walk: the floors Are tizzy, the sick walls tumbling, Crumbling like proved lies. His scythe went shick shick shick and cut My flowers; they lay in heaps, murdered. (95) Clarke has said that he feels the libretto is less “literary” in his words than the verse play, for it removes the lines of French, Latin, Spanish and Italian that pepper the play as part of the author’s critique of the highly educated planter class in Nova Scotia: their education did not guarantee ethical behaviour (“Adaptation” 14). I have not concentrated on the music of the opera, because I wanted to keep the focus on the language. But I should say that the Rolfe’s score is as historically grounded as Clarke’s libretto: it is rooted in African Canadian music (from ring shouts to spirituals to blues) and in Scottish fiddle music and local reels of the time, not to mention bel canto Italian opera. However, the music consciously links black and white traditions in a way that Clarke’s words and story refuse: they remain stubbornly separate, set in deliberate tension with the music’s resolution. Beatrice will murder her father, and, at the very moment that Nova Scotia slaves are liberated, she and her co-conspirators will be hanged for that murder. Unlike the printed verse drama, the shorter opera libretto functions like a screenplay, if you will. It is not so much an autonomous work unto itself, but it points toward a potential enactment or embodiment in performance. Yet, even there, Clarke cannot resist the lure of words—even though they are words that no audience will ever hear. The stage directions for Act 3, scene 2 of the opera read: “The garden. Slaves, sunflowers, stars, sparks” (98). The printed verse play is full of these poetic associative stage directions, suggesting that despite his protestations to the contrary, Clarke may have thought of that version as one meant to be read by the eye. After Beatrice’s rape, the stage directions read: “A violin mopes. Invisible shovelsful of dirt thud upon the scene—as if those present were being buried alive—like ourselves” (91). Our imaginations—and emotions—go to work, assisted by the poet’s associations. There are many such textual helpers—epigraphs, photographs, notes—that we do not have when we watch and listen to the opera. We do have the music, the staged drama, the colours and sounds as well as the words of the text. As Clarke puts the difference: “as a chamber opera, Beatrice Chancy has ascended to television broadcast. But as a closet drama, it play only within the reader’s head” (“Adaptation” 14). Clarke’s work of literature, his verse drama, is a “situated utterance, produced in one medium and in one historical and social context,” to use Robert Stam’s terms. In the opera version, it was transformed into another “equally situated utterance, produced in a different context and relayed through a different medium” (45-6). I want to argue that both are worthy of study and respect by wordsmiths, by people like me. I realise I’ve loaded the dice: here neither the verse play nor the libretto is primary; neither is really the “source” text, for they were written at the same time and by the same person. But for readers and audiences (my focus and interest here), they exist on a continuum—depending on which we happen to experience first. As Ilana Shiloh explores here, the same is true about the short story and film of Memento. I am not alone in wanting to mount a defence of adaptations. Julie Sanders ends her new book called Adaptation and Appropriation with these words: “Adaptation and appropriation … are, endlessly and wonderfully, about seeing things come back to us in as many forms as possible” (160). The storytelling imagination is an adaptive mechanism—whether manifesting itself in print or on stage or on screen. The study of the production of literature should, I would like to argue, include those other forms taken by that storytelling drive. If I can be forgiven a move to the amusing—but still serious—in concluding, Terry Pratchett puts it beautifully in his fantasy story, Witches Abroad: “Stories, great flapping ribbons of shaped space-time, have been blowing and uncoiling around the universe since the beginning of time. And they have evolved. The weakest have died and the strongest have survived and they have grown fat on the retelling.” In biology as in culture, adaptations reign. References Bloom, Harold. The Anxiety of Influence. New York: Oxford University Press, 1975. Bruhn, Mark J. “’Prodigious Mixtures and Confusions Strange’: The Self-Subverting Mixed Style of The Cenci.” Poetics Today 22.4 (2001). Clarke, George Elliott. “Beatrice Chancy: A Libretto in Four Acts.” Canadian Theatre Review 96 (1998): 62-79. ———. Beatrice Chancy. Victoria, BC: Polestar, 1999. ———. “Adaptation: Love or Cannibalism? Some Personal Observations”, unpublished manuscript of article. Frye, Northrop. The Educated Imagination. Toronto: CBC, 1963. Goodman, Nelson. Languages of Art: An Approach to a Theory of Symbols. Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill, 1968. Hutcheon, Linda, and Gary R. Bortolotti. “On the Origin of Adaptations: Rethinking Fidelity Discourse and “Success”—Biologically.” New Literary History. Forthcoming. Joyce, James. Dubliners. 1916. New York: Viking, 1967. ———. A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. 1916. Penguin: Harmondsworth, 1960. Larson, Katherine. “Resistance from the Margins in George Elliott Clarke’s Beatrice Chancy.” Canadian Literature 189 (2006): 103-118. McGee, Celia. “Beowulf on Demand.” New York Times, Arts and Leisure. 30 April 2006. A4. Rushdie, Salman. The Satanic Verses. New York: Viking, 1988. ———. Haroun and the Sea of Stories. London: Granta/Penguin, 1990. Sanders, Julie. Adaptation and Appropriation. London and New York: Routledge, 160. Shelley, Percy Bysshe. The Cenci. Ed. George Edward Woodberry. Boston and London: Heath, 1909. Stam, Robert. “Introduction: The Theory and Practice of Adaptation.” Literature and Film: A Guide to the Theory and Practice of Film Adaptation. Oxford: Blackwell, 2005. 1-52. Citation reference for this article MLA Style Hutcheon, Linda. "In Defence of Literary Adaptation as Cultural Production." M/C Journal 10.2 (2007). echo date('d M. Y'); ?> <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0705/01-hutcheon.php>. APA Style Hutcheon, L. (May 2007) "In Defence of Literary Adaptation as Cultural Production," M/C Journal, 10(2). Retrieved echo date('d M. Y'); ?> from <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0705/01-hutcheon.php>.