Journal articles on the topic 'Horror tales, english – study and teaching'

Objectives The purpose of this study is to analyze in detail the motives and methods of English classes using fairy tales through in-depth interviews with primary school teachers who have conducted English classes using fairy tales. Methods Through the qualitative research method, three primary English teachers were selected as intentional sampling(convenient sampling) method, and data were collected through triangulation such as interviews, non-participatory observation(class videos), documents, and class photos, and analyzed using constant comparative analysis, which is an open coding, categorization, and category confirmation process. Efforts were made to report validity and reliability through member checks with the analyzed data. Results The motivations of primary English teachers who used fairy tales were analyzed as three main themes: ‘Striving for overcoming the limitations of primary English textbooks,’ ‘Development of students' critical thinking skills,’ and ‘Will to improve as English teachers.’ The English class method using fairy tales was analyzed into three main topics: first, ‘whole language learning’, second, ‘real communication-oriented class’, and third, ‘student-centered class’. Conclusions It is not only necessary to develop primary English textbooks that can provide a rich context, communicate in practice, and improve students' interest, motivation, and confidence but also needed to train English teachers as an in-service on related textbooks.

As the objective of EFL teaching is to help students to communicate fluently in the target language, teachers should provide authentic models of language use for every level and age. To hit the target we should focus not only on linguistic, but also on literary and cultural elements. Since fairy tales offer these elements, they are highly beneficial to use in EFL teaching programs, especially for young learners. This objective of this research is to investigate the effectiveness of teaching English pronunciation through fairy tale media. This research was conducted at SMPS PGRI Pondokgede class 8-3. The writer has conducted field research for 1 month. Some data was taken through observation, process, and post-learning and teaching activities. This paper contains ways to improve students’ English pronunciation by providing Thumbelina and Pinocchio fairy tales. The result of this study indicated that: (1) teaching English pronunciation trough fairy tale is effective to increase students’ pronunciation (2) students become easier to understand the subject matter and increase their English vocabulary, and (3) students become more active and confident when reading texts or fairy tales by showing good pronunciation.

This study analyzes the moral values of legends and fairy tales on the English Fairy Tales YouTube channel and examines its relevance to narrative text learning in schools. The approach used is qualitative research, with descriptive type. The sample videos taken from the English Fairy Tales channel are five videos. According to theory, analysis of moral values is carried out by looking at video samples and describing them. In contrast, relevance analysis will be carried out by reviewing the applicable learning syllabus. The research found that the videos analyzed contain values always to be grateful to God, care for others, be diligent, be brave, help each other, keep promises, and never give up. In addition, the moral values found in legends and fairy tales on the English Fairy Tales YouTube channel have relevance to the teaching of narrative texts in class X of Senior High School because the moral values contained in legends and fairy tales on the English Fairy Tales YouTube channel can support the use of English Fairy Tales channel videos as learning media that is in line with the learning competence.

Stoker's „Dracula” is not merely a tale of horror but a intricate interweaving of historical fact and Romanian folklore. The strigoi and nosferatu, while possibly perceived as mere relics of bygone superstitions, are integral facets of Romanian cultural identity. Their tales, replete with the wisdom and anxieties of a civilization, invite us to engage deeply with the narratives that have shaped and continue to influence a nation's collective psyche. It is this intricate dance between the real and the imagined, the living and the undead, that renders the study of Stoker’s Dracula and its Romanian origins a compelling academic endeavor. For educators, the myths of the strigoi and nosferatu, when juxtaposed against Stoker’s Dracula, offer a treasure trove of opportunities. They unveil a society's deep-seated beliefs, fears, and aspirations. Analyzing these tales provides insights into Romania's cultural, religious, and social mores, making them invaluable tools for cultural education. By deconstructing the origins and evolutions of these myths, students can be introduced to broader themes of life, death, societal values, and the interplay of indigenous and external religious influences.

The need for a more critical approach to EFL teaching and learning is undeniable, yet little has been done to prepare teachers for teaching with this approach. This article reports one of the cycles on my action research study, involving a teacher educator and 35 pre-service English teachers. Together with the teacher educator, a unit on critical literacy was developed using fairy tales as the core text. In the unit, we introduced pre-service teachers to critical literacy through the critical reading, analysis, and rewriting of fairy tales for social transformation. They were assigned to rewrite a fairy tale as a form of social action and to reflect on the choices made in the rewriting process. The re-written fairy tales and the accompanying reflection essay were analysed using a rubric adapted from the four dimensions of critical literacy (Lewison et al., 2002). The re-written fairy tales and the reflections suggest the pre-service teachers’ growing understanding of the non-neutrality of text, ability to read from a different perspective and offer an alternative one, and ability to identify socio-political issues, such as stereotypes, and to subvert them.

English Language Teaching (ELT) is inseparable with the teaching of the language’s culture. Indonesia has a national agenda of integrating folklore into the subject of English language in schools. Therefore, this study aims to identify the types of folklore in Indonesian EFL textbooks for secondary high school. This study collected data from 10 textbooks from Grades 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, and 12, which are published by Erlangga, Yrama Widya, Yudhistira, PT Tiga Serangkai Pustaka Mandiri, and Kemdikbud. The data analysis method was content analysis. Results showed that Indonesian EFL textbooks for secondary high school level contains 5 genres of folklore, namely fables, fairy tales, folktales, legends and myths. This study found that the most dominant type of folklore in the textbooks are legends 12 (36,3%), followed by folktales 11 (33,3%), fairy tales 5 (15,1%), fables 3 (9,3%), and lastly myths 2 (6,0%). All genres covered the cultural heritage of nearly every island and major city in Indonesia, including other countries such as Vietnam, Serbia, German and Japan. This means that Indonesia is succeeding in carrying out the national agenda of preserving students' cultural awareness and local wisdom through the teaching of folktales in ELT. The findings of this study are useful to support and enrich cultural elements integrated in English textbooks particularly the for the teaching of folklore in Indonesian EFL classrooms.

The present paper proposes to undertake a deep study of the Death of a Clerk. This beautiful short story has been written by Anton Chekhov, a prominent story teller of Russia. This story has been translated into English from Russian by Ivy Litvinov. This translation of Ivy Litvinov has been made the basis of the present study. The period of 1880-1885 is a very important period in the career of Anton Chekhov. During this period, he wrote hundreds of humorous tales. They show a keen sense of the social scene and of the incongruities of life. These tales reveal a deep feeling for human injustice and suffering. In these stories Anton Chekhov attempted to see things as they were and to deal with them as he saw them. According to him a reasoned life without a clear-cut point of view is not a life, but a burden and a horror. This was a strange idea for that day but it played a significant role in his works. Chekhov’s Death of a Clerk is one of them. It beautifully presents the picture of the life of a society based on tyranny and servility.

This article, a part of dissertation entitled Developing Basic English Grammar Teaching Material based on Interactive Multimedia at University Level, presents the results of a study conducted to find the model of Basic English Grammar teaching material based on interactive multimedia needed by the students. This empirical research employed both quantitative and qualitative analyses. Seventy eight students of English Department of Universitas Negeri Padang were involved. The students were required to articulate their need on a design of Basic English Grammar teaching material based on interactive multimedia. The data were collected through an open questionnaire. The first result is that Basic English Grammar teaching material based on interactive multimedia is very needed (with the score 3.1 out of 4). Second, the result indicates the organization of Basic English Grammar teaching material based on interactive multimedia. The organization consists of six parts. They are Time to watch/sing/read, Time to chat, Time to Focus, Time for fun practice, Time for tube, and Time for action. Third, the students have different learning style. Fourty two students (53.84%) have visual learning style. Twenty two students (28.21%) have audio learning style. The rest, fourteen students (17.95%) have kinestetic learning style. Four, the finding shows the students have their favorite movies, colors, and music. The students like comedy/humor, drama, horror, dokumentary, and action movies; they love pop, jazz, rock, country, and rap music; they adore blue, green, black, pink, and red color. Another important research finding is almost all students (91%) have their own laptop. Those findings will be considerations in designing the Basic English Grammar teaching material based on interactive multimedia. Further research to see the effectiveness of the model of Basic English Grammar teaching material based on interactive multimedia needs to be done.

This study aims to highlight the utilization of literary genre as a well-liked method for instructing both language skills (that is to say, writing, reading, speaking, and listening) and language fields (that are grammar, pronunciation, and vocabulary). Why employing literary textbooks in foreign language classrooms and the main motives for choosing appropriate fictional texts in these classrooms are emphasized to make the reader acquainted with the motivating incentives and standards for foreign language teachers’ employing and picking erudite textbooks. Additionally, the teaching of language skills and literary genre gains benefits of diverse fields of literature (like drama, poems, tragedy and tales) to language teaching and to several difficulties met by language teachers in the sphere of instructing English using fiction (i.e. shortage of training in the field of literature teaching English as a Second English and Teaching English as a Foreign Language curriculums, deficiency of precise aims describing the function of fiction in English as a Foreign Language and English as a Second Language, foreign language teachers’ not possessing the experience and preparation in literature, and lack of suitable teaching tools to be utilized by foreign language teachers in a class milieu) are taken into consideration.

With compact yet captivating tales, short stories have the potential to be an effective tool for enhancing students' writing skills in English language learning classrooms. As a result, this study article gives a complete overview of the literature on the impact of short stories on language learning. A systematic strategy is used in this study to discover and assess relevant nonempirical studies, theoretical frameworks, and expert perspectives on adding short tales to improve students' writing skills. The data for this research were analyzed, and ten published articles on the subject were reviewed. The findings from the evaluated journal papers show that including short stories in English language education, particularly in intensive reading courses, has a good influence. The findings from the evaluated journal papers show that including short stories in English language education, particularly in intensive reading courses, has a good influence. These findings are useful for educators and curriculum makers who want to improve language learning experiences by using short stories. According to the article, various outcomes were discovered during the evaluation, particularly for teachers and students during teaching and learning.Keywords: Short stories, impact, English, language learning classroom

<p>This study compares the English reading comprehension and ethical awareness of 7^th grade students, when using either a directed reading-thinking activity (DR-TA), or a more traditional approach, involving tales of virtue based on His Majesty the King’s teaching concepts. A randomized control group pretest-posttest design was used for the study, and the data were analyzed using one-way MANOVA and t-tests for dependent samples. The results showed a significant difference in English reading comprehension, and ethical awareness of learning English reading, between both groups at .01 level. Students through the DR-TA method had significantly higher English reading comprehension, and increased ethical awareness, at the .01 level.</p>

The research need is determined by active educational partnership between People's Republic of China and other countries, and Ukraine too. The collaboration promotes the comparative pedagogical researches of educational process of both countries. The content of the Recommendations of the European Council, the recommendations of the British Council on language education demand new requirements for the language quality teaching and learning, the development of new forms, methods and tools in the world. In this regard, it is important to study the principles of teaching English in China and Ukraine. The purpose is to outline the basics of teaching English at school in China and Ukraine. Methodology. The analytical method is used to investigate English teaching process; the comparative method is used to analyze the experience of teaching English in two countries. Results. Teaching English in China as the new reality shows that the National Curriculum has made English a compulsory subject for Chinese schools. The teaching method in China differs greatly from the international, Western one. It is based on information memorization, as well as it is focused on the study of the Chinese language, culture, and history. Only in international or private schools in China, teaching is conducted according to international standards. To learn English, the British or American model of learning is used, based on communication and discussing learning material and new information, and not on copying or memorizing it. According to the new Curriculum, for young learners, English is taught as a subject two or three hours a week in 1-3 grades, three or four hours a week in 4-6 grades. International English curricula focus on communication and skills, but the Ministry of Education of the People's Republic of China has decided to expand its goals to national ones and adapt the international English curriculum for Chinese young learners. Experience of teaching English in Ukraine shows that English is studied from the 1st grade, from the age of 6, according to the “New Ukrainian School” curriculum. The British Council in Ukraine took care of teaching English to young learners greatly. It trains a lot of English teachers in Ukraine. Teaching English to young learners has moved very much in providing the communicative approach. At English lessons children learn English by communication using pictures, songs, poems, fairy tales, short plays, games and holidays. Conclusion. China becomes the world leader in the number of English learners as it is necessary for schools, Universities, and future careers. Now about 400 million Chinese learn English, there are more English learners in China than English speakers. The English teaching method is mostly old school, and traditional, but the situation is changing. Most Chinese consider that English is a necessary means of bringing China closer to the whole world. Ukrainian teachers and learners are more trained for the new requirements to teach and learn English due to the British Council's help in Ukraine. The communicative approach is basically used for teaching English. Ukrainian teachers and learners have got a definite positive experience to teach and learn English successfully.

Emotions undoubtedly surface, which teachers face while resulting from the session. It is consistent with Hargreaves' view that teaching, learning, and leadership have an irrevocably emotional nature, whether on purpose or accidentally. The study seeks to evaluate an English teacher's experiences. According to Webster and Mertova (2007), narrative inquiry is based on human tales, which give a framework for investigating how people experience the world through their stories. Webster and Mertova state that narrative inquiry is a subfield of narrative research. The inquiry aimed to examine the emotional geography of team teaching lecturers in the English Language Education Department. A 33-year-old male English lecturer at a private University in Majalengka enhanced his professionalism by participating in several international and national conferences, which reflected the aspects of social and emotional well-being, such as presenting his article and having some discussions with other scholars. During the team teaching, the participants were given the opportunity and trust to do every single activity from the beginning to the end. His teaching partner treated him very well in implementing various programs within the team teaching. In brief, the emotional geographies contribute to developing a lecturer’s professional and cognitive aspects, which have been implemented during the instructional process. They also influence the way students learn and follow the lecturer’s instructions and potentially shape them to have a good attitude when interacting with each other.

Studies conducted on the relevance of literature in boosting language demonstrate that it is an invaluable tool to enhance language skills. However, the role of oral literature in enhancing language performance in secondary schools has not received much investigation. This study investigates the role that teaching oral literature in English plays in learners' language performance. Adopting a quasi-mixed-methods approach, the study was conducted in three selected secondary schools from one district in Rwanda. This study was guided by input and output theory by Krashen Steven. The focused population was 15 participants (12 teachers and 3 deputy headteachers in charge of academic duties) from 3 selected secondary schools. Respondents were selected by a universal and stratified sampling procedure. Using a simple random sample, the study used both a questionnaire and an interview with school staff, with a particular focus on teachers of literature in English. Findings revealed that folk dramas and tales, myths, proverbs, sayings, and tongue twisters were the most focused components of oral literature by English teachers in the sampled schools. It was found that there is a significant positive effect between oral literature and learners’ language performance (r = 746, p < 0.01). The study recommends that efforts be made to enhance the teaching of oral literature as it exposes learners to English language skills.

Introduction. This article is a justification of the possibility of using tales to popularize economics, economic history and the history of economic thought. Theoretical analysis. The historiographic review showed that many prominent English-speaking and Russian-speaking economists in their scientific articles and monographs textually or allegorically use the terms “parables”, “fables”, “stories”, “stories”, “myths”, “saga”, and the like. Therefore, the term “tales” will organically complement this semantic range. The study of the construction of theory and models within the framework of economic theory and economic history in the 20th century revealed that the essence of the methodology of scientific research data (instrumentalism) is very close to the practice of inventing half-truth instructive stories, from which the proper conclusions should be made. Results. Post-modernization of the modern academic environment pluralization, can be used in the process of creative self-expression of economists and progress in the field of economic sciences.

This research was carried out to develop a prototype of a local content-based audio media for teaching listening in English as a Foreign Language (EFL) for senior high school level. The research was conducted under two research questions i.e. What are the learning needs of Senior High Schools students for EFL listening media? How was the Bantenese local content-based media for listening developed? Design based Research was employed to conduct the study. Semi-structure interview and open-ended questionnaire were conducted to collect information about the students needs for listening in EFL teaching and learning activities. To figure out how the process of media development was done, an open-ended questionnaire was administered to students and to teachers in order to assess the quality of the media. Additionally, material and media expert validations were done. Data analysis revealed that first; the students needed Bantense folk tales local content-based audio media for listening materials in EFL classrooms in order to build their local cultural awareness. Second, the audio media was developed by adopting bottom-up approach undergoing iterative processes i.e. the phases of analysis of practical problem, the phases of media development, and testing and refinement phase, and reflection phase. The development processes yielded three products i.e. teacher handbook, student handbook, and MP3 listening materials which accommodates Bantenese folk tales. In conclusion, developing a local-content based learning media aiming at developing students awareness of their local culture and identity could be done through developing a teaching and learning media that addresses the students learning needs and be in accordance with English current curriculum adopted at schools.

ABSTRACT This article presents and briefly discusses some results of a survey conducted as part of a study on multiple literacies and the use of technology in English as a Foreign Language (EFL) classroom. An online questionnaire has been sent to English teachers of the third cycle and secondary education in Portugal with the aim to investigate their perceptions on the use of new technologies, particularly Web 2.0 tools, in their teaching practice. This article focuses particularly on the results from the questions related to materials and digital tools frequently used, teachers’ general view on the use of technology, as well as the digital and critical literacies approach. It has been found that although technology seems to be part of the teaching practice of this group of teachers – and although further research is necessary to deeply understand the actual use of technology in this particular scenario – it can be assumed that suitable guidance, training and further development of appropriate materials for teachers and students are necessary to facilitate and better integrate new technologies in the EFL classroom. Keywords: New technologies and language learning. Multiliteracies. Digital literacies. Critical thinking. English language teaching. RESUMO Este artigo apresenta e discute brevemente alguns resultados de uma pesquisa realizada como parte de um estudo sobre múltiplas literacias e o uso da tecnologia na aula de inglês como língua estrangeira (English as a Foreign Language – EFL) (Cardoso, 2017). Um questionário online foi enviado a professores de inglês do terceiro ciclo e secundário, em Portugal, com o objetivo de investigar as perceções e as opiniões deles a respeito do uso das novas tecnologias, especialmente dos recursos da Web 2.0, em sua prática profissional. O presente artigo enfoca particularmente os resultados obtidos das perguntas relacionadas à frequência de uso de materiais e recursos, à visão dos professores sobre o uso da tecnologia, assim como à abordagem das literacias digitais e críticas. Embora a tecnologia pareça fazer parte da prática discente desse grupo de professores, e ainda que pesquisas adicionais sejam necessárias para entender melhor o uso real dessa tecnologia nesse cenário em particular, é possível dizer que são necessárias algumas medidas para que a integração significativa e eficaz das novas tecnologias nas salas de aula de EFL, tais como, orientações adequadas e treinamento aos professores, e maior desenvolvimento de materiais apropriados. Palavras-chave: Novas tecnologias e ensino de línguas. Multiliteracias. Literaturas digitais. Pensamento crítico. Ensino de língua inglesa. RESUMEN Este artículo presenta y discute brevemente algunos resultados de una investigación realizada como parte de un estudio sobre múltiples literacias y el uso de la tecnología en la clase de inglés como lengua extranjera (Card., 2017). Un cuestionario en línea fue enviado a los profesores de Inglés Graduado de secundaria y, en Portugal, con el fin de investigar las percepciones y sus opiniones sobre el uso de las nuevas tecnologías, especialmente capacidades Web 2.0 en su práctica profesional. El presente artículo se centra particularmente en los resultados obtenidos de las preguntas relativas a la frecuencia de uso de materiales y recursos, a la visión de los profesores sobre el uso de la tecnología, así como al abordaje de las literas digitales y críticas. Aunque la tecnología parece formar parte de la práctica discente de este grupo de profesores, y aún si son necesarias investigaciones adicionales para entender mejor el uso real de esta tecnología en este escenario en particular, es posible decir que son necesarias algunas medidas para que la integración significativa y eficaz de las mismas nuevas tecnologías en las aulas de EFL, tales como orientación adecuada y capacitación a los profesores, y el desarrollo de materiales apropiados. Palabras clave: Nuevas tecnologías y enseñanza de lenguas. Multilenuales. Literaturas digitales. Pensamiento crítico. Enseñanza de lengua inglesa. DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.22169/revint.v14i31.1523

The relevance of the work lies in the understanding that knowledge of logic, epistemology, ontology of language contributes to the competent implementation of the dialogue of cultures. The purpose of the study is to formulate the Cosmo-Psycho-Logos system of the Spanish language in comparison with Russian, English, German and French, as well as to substantiate the importance of introducing CPL in teaching a foreign language. The subject of the study is the CPL of the Spanish language. The methods of our research include general scientific methods of analyzing sources, namely colloquial Spanish speech on the example of 10 films and TV series, Spanish folklore, including modern, selected by random sampling (200 Spanish folk tales recorded by folklorists during the XIX and XX centuries, as well as 200 anecdotes), as well as analysis of secondary research material, i.e. works on this problem. The main approach in the work is a comparative approach, a set of comparative and general scientific methods is used to analyze the features of the Spanish language and systematize the data obtained. Thus, the analysis of the Spanish language is carried out at the morphological, semantic and syntactic levels, the elements of the Spanish language are compared with similar elements and systems of the Russian, English, German and French languages. The results of the study are a description of the CPL of the Spanish language, and also demonstrate that the epistemology, logic, ontology of the language are closely related to its semantics, morphology and syntax. Language ethics and aesthetics are reflected in the vocabulary. Spanish space-time relations are dynamic and inseparable. The Spanish ontology demonstrates the great functionality of the object. Spanish logic is indicative, inductive, coherent. Personal goal determines action, self-organization determines tectology. Spanish ethics is situational, while Spanish aesthetics indicates sensuality. This research can be supplemented by further work on Cosmo-Psycho-Logos of other languages, as well as on the didactics of the use of CPL in teaching a foreign language.

Mongols have a long and rich tradition of translating literary works from many different countries into Mongolian. Specifically, thousands of literary works from over 100 different countries written in dozens of different languages have been translated into Mongolian. Among these, a large number of Italian literary works have been translated into Mongolian from Russian, English, and Romanian. As for the literary genres of these works, they primarily consist of poetry, prose, and plays (including screenplays). Specifically: 1) Poetry: poems (58 works), songs (1), long poems (3); 2) Prose: folktales (33), authored tales (36), short stories (40), traditional jokes (3), novellas (5), framed stories (1), novels (5); 3) Plays (2), and screenplays (1). In addition, works of non-fiction, including stylized biographical sketches, reminiscences, as well as a political philosophical treatise, have been published. Literary works are generally divided into one of the following two different categories depending on whether they have a specific author or not: a) oral folklore; and b) written literature. The following tasks need to be undertaken to properly study Italian literary works which have been translated into Mongolian and published in Mongolia: A complete bibliography of Italian literary works translated into Mongolian must be compiled, All of the Italian originals must be located and correctly identified, The Russian, English, and Romanian intermediate translations must also be found and carefully consulted, If a work has been translated multiple times by a single translator, the multiple translations must be compared with each other and studied, If a work has been translated multiple times by different translators, the multiple translations must likewise be compared with each other and studied, The Italian originals of poems, songs, tales, and short stories which have been translated into Mongolian should be located and juxtaposed with their translations and published in book format for teaching and research purposes.

This study aimed to examine the EFL (English as a foreign language) students’ oral presentation of storytelling. The students performed retelling of narratives such as fables, legends, myths, and fairy tales using their smartphones and video recorder. The participants of the study were 19 students enrolled in the Drama in ELT (English Language Teaching) course at Universitas Syiah Kuala, Banda Aceh, Indonesia. It employed participant observation and interviews to collect data. The results of the study revealed that for non-language aspects, the lowest score was for ‘dress code’ (M=2.1), meaning that the students did not make any efforts to dress and use props that were related to the stories they were telling. While for the language aspects, the lowest score was for ‘communicative abilities with the audience’ (M= 1.2). This shows that even though the participants recorded their performance, and there was no audience watching them directly, they still faced barriers and a lack of confidence when presenting the storytelling. The interviews further supported the findings from the observation such as not being able to use appropriate props for their performance, lack of eye contact, switching voices, use of gestures, difficulty in remembering the script, and needing somebody else to do the recording for them. Therefore, the students need more practice in front of audiences to overcome the problems in the future to ensure that the use of storytelling can improve their oral performance.

AN ACTION RESEARCH STUDY OF LEARNERS’ PERCEPTION OF USING OF INTERNET ACTIVITIES THROUGH CLASS THE NICENET ICA IN THE EFL CLASSROOM IN ECUADORLa incorporación de actividades de Internet y Sistemas de Manejo de Clase en el proceso de enseñanza / aprendizaje en el idioma Inglés ha aumentado su popularidad entre los profesores y estudiantes usuarios de las Tecnologías de Información y Comunicación. La computadora es concebida como una herramientas que favorece el desarrollo cognitivo. Como resultado, tanto profesores como estudiantes están usando frecuentemente estas tecnologías para diferentes propósitos tales como gestión de conocimiento, comunicación, interacción, participación y colaboración cuando son miembros de ambientes de aprendizaje de Inglés en línea.El propósito de este estudio fue investigar las percepciones del proceso, práctica y uso de actividades de Internet a través de Nicenet Asistente de Clase en Internet para descubrir como los estudiantes percibieron la integración y aplicación de estas tecnologías en su proceso de aprendizaje de Inglés. El estudio usó métodos cuantitativos y cualitativos de investigación en acción tales como documentos de clase, una encuesta, diarios y comentarios de los estudiantes para explorar sus reacciones y percepciones a estas dos tecnologías. Dos preguntas de investigación fueron exploradas en este estudio: (1) ¿Cómo pueden ser descritas las percepciones de los estudiantes del proceso del uso de herramientas tecnológicas? y(2) ¿Cuáles son las percepciones de los estudiantes del uso de actividades de Internet para aprender Inglés?Los participantes de este estudio consistieron de estudiantes universitarios en nivel Intermedio Superior de Inglés los cuales se graduaron en colegios públicos, religiosos y bilingües. Los resultados indican que hubo un alto nivel de aceptación de las actividades de Internet a través de Nicenet Asistente de Clase en Internet cuando los estudiantes interactúan, se comunican y gestionan conocimiento para aprender Inglés a través de ambientes colaborativos de aprendizaje en Internet.Palabras clave: Internet, aprendizaje del Inglés online, Nicenet, educaciónAbstract The incorporation of Internet activities and Classroom Management Systems in the English teaching/learning process has increased popularity among teachers and learners of these Information Communication Technologies since computers became cognitive tools to enhance learning. As a result, teachers as well as learners are frequently using these technological tools for different purposes such as knowledge management, communication, interaction, participation and collaboration when they are members of online English learning environments. The aim of this study was to investigate learners’ perceptions of the process, practice and use of Internet activities through the Nicenet Internet Classroom Assistant in order to discover how learners perceived the integration and application of these technologies in their English learning process. The study used qualitative and quantitative methods of action research: class documents, a survey, learners’ journals and learners’ comments in order to explore their reactions and perceptions to these two technologies. Two research questions were explored in this study: (1) How can learners’ perceptions of the process of using technological tools for language learning be described? and (2) What are learners’ perceptions of using Internet activities to learn English? Participants of this study consisted of upper intermediate university English learners who graduated from Ecuadorian public, religious or bilingual high schools. The findings indicate that there was a high learners’ acceptance of the Nicenet ICA Internet activities when they interact, communicate, manage knowledge to learn English through online collaborative English learning environments.Keywords: Internet activities, the Nicenet Internet Classroom Assistant, English Foreign Language Classroom

Creative narrative videos posted on YouTube have been proven to help students learn the narrative text and enhance students’ creativity toward making an excellent creative product. Along with the advantages, there are challenges and risks that teachers must consider since YouTube is an open-access video-sharing platform. This study aims to see whether narrative videos posted on YouTube meet creativity elements that can help ninth-grade junior high school students learn narrative text. This study used a qualitative method with content analysis to analyze fifteen narrative videos from three YouTube channels; Dongeng Kita, English Fairy Tales, and Gigglebox. The selected fifteen videos have been uploaded within the last seven years and are addressed to teenage viewers. Using the framework from D'Souza (2021), the findings show that the selected narrative videos fulfilled around 30% to 80% of the creativity elements. The audience immersive experience aspect, with a percentage of 45%, is the most dominant aspect of the narrative video's creativity elements. In contrast, the development and control aspect is the least in the creativity elements of narrative video, with a percentage of 25,5%. The narrative videos demonstrate diversity, a distinction or feature that distinguishes a narrative video from the previous version (narrative text). This study is expected to be a recommendation for teachers in choosing narrative videos on YouTube to support their teaching materials and simultaneously enhance students' creative thinking skills.

The community service program conducted by the English Study Program held from April to July, 2019 was the fourth in a series of activities in cooperation with Balai Budaya Minomartani and the community radio station, Balai Budaya Minomartani FM 107.7 MHz. It aims to increase the community capacity by training high school students living in Minomartani and its vicinity to become broadcasters of an educational entertainment radio program. In this program, Indonesian folktales in English translation are used as a medium for teaching English through storytelling. In achieving the aim, a two day workshop on radio broadcasting was held at the Faculty of Cultural Sciences, Universitas Gadjah Mada. The resource persons presenting in the workshop are community radio practitioners from the community radio station and lecturers from the English Study Program, Universitas Gadjah Mada. In the workshop, participants learned how to operate audio mixer, tell stories and present material on the radio. The participants were also provided with a module to help them identify language items to teach and select, modify, and convert the folk tales into audio scripts. Under the guidance and supervision of tutors from the English Study Program, the participants selected the language items in the folktales and developed them into teaching materials, made audio scripts and presented them. The participants were recorded reading their scripts. The audio recording was then broadcasted by the community radio station, Balai Budaya Minomartani FM 107.7 MHz. As the community radio is internet-based, the broadcast could be heard world wide. In this way, Indonesian folktales are also promoted to the world.--------------------------------------------------------------Pengabdian kepada Masyarakat yang dilaksanakan Prodi Sastra Inggris sejak April–Juli 2019 bekerja sama dengan Balai Budaya Minomartani dan Radio Komunitas Balai Budaya Minomartani FM 107.7 MHz, merupakan yang keempat kalinya dalam serangkaian kegiatan kerjasama. Pengabdian kepada Masyarakat ini bertujuan mengembangkan kapasitas masyarakat dengan melatih siswa SMA/SMK yang tinggal di Minomartani dan sekitarnya untuk menjadi penyiar program pendidikan dan hiburan. Dalam program ini, cerita rakyat Indonesia yang telah diterjemahkan ke dalam bahasa Inggris digunakan sebagai media pembelajaran bahasa Inggris dengan memakai metode storytelling. Untuk mencapai tujuannya, Prodi Sastra Inggris menyelenggarakan workshop yang berlangsung selama dua hari di Fakultas Ilmu Budaya, Universitas Gadjah Mada. Para narasumber merupakan praktisi radio komunitas dan dosen dosen Prodi Sastra Inggris, Universitas Gadjah Mada. Para peserta workshop diajarkan bagaimana mengoperasikan audiomixer, bercerita dan menyiarkan materi. Di samping itu, para peserta diberikan modul untuk membantu mereka dalam mengidentifikasi butir bahasa yang akan diajarkan, memilih, memodifikasi dan mengubah cerita rakyat menjadi audio script. Di bawah bimbingan tutor dari Prodi Sastra Inggris, peserta memilih unsur bahasa yang terdapat dalam cerita rakyat dan mengembangkannya menjadi bahan ajar, membuat audio script, membacakannya sambil direkam untuk kemudian disiarkan di radio komunitas Balai Budaya Minomartani FM 107.7 MHz. Karena radio komunitas BBM sudah berbasis internet, siaran ini dapat didengarkan di seluruh dunia sehingga menjadi sarana promosi cerita rakyat Indonesia.

This paper aims to evaluate the students’ feedback of Poetry course. This course includes a total of thirty-four poems of prominent poets ranging from the 14th century till18th century. The course contents are annexed as A. This study will evaluate the pedagogical appropriateness of the overall course and with a zero lecture in the course to critically evaluate the pedagogical appropriateness of the following four poems in particular. The study also aims at the evaluation of the course design to see whether management of course curriculum has an impact on the course overall success. The study applied the theory of ‘Pedagogic Critique’ presented and explicated in the work of Paulo Freire titled as ‘Pedagogy of the Oppressed (Paulo Freire, 2000)’. Freire explains that power dynamics behind everything determines the way how any educational course and setting get underway and proceeded. Books, according to him, are never rated beyond their scope until they are associated with their expected readers and audience (Patton, 2017). The study finds out a mixture of complicated feedback from the students who appeared in their MA English course. The study was devised through a questionnaire indexed at the end of the paper. Their feedback was analysed and the conclusion was made. Most of the students through a resultant questionnaire were unable to reply exactly to the course they read and some of the students could not appropriately connect their initial aptitude to the courses they read and what they had initially antipiated. The study also finds out that some of the students selected their course vaguely without having any firsthand knowledge about they would later on study. Prologue to the Canterbury Tales were considered to be most complicated course since it has a little complicated archaic diction, whereas Spencer’s Faerie Queene was considered through a feedback to be outmoted and less universally applied to modern teaching practicum and literary pragmatics. Most pragmatic and creative work that was recommended and liked by both the teachers and studetns was ‘Paradise Lost’. The study eventually conludes that the potery-1 course should stand modied and there is a lot of room for research on this aspect. The course needs an overhauling to better engineer it for the students’ comprehension and understability. Keywords: Pedagogy; poetry; syllabus; Pakistan

Этнографическое изучение народов обычно сопровождается сбором фольклорного материала, так как фольклор – ценный источник информации для этнографа. Экспликация разного рода информации из текста – известный прием в гуманитарных науках, поэтому привлечение фольклора как источника для поиска и интерпретации культурных ценностей представляется перспективным. Цель данного исследования состоит в том, чтобы рассмотреть фольклор этнических групп Кении и сопредельных регионов в качестве источника для выявления и интерпретации социокультурных ценностей. В ходе исследования применяется ценностный подход к изучению культуры. Ключевой вклад этой статьи в образовательную модель по преподаванию русского языка как иностранного в учебных заведениях Кении заключается в том, чтобы дать представление о традиционных ценностях народов Кении и показать важность фольклора для преподавания. В африканских сказках, как и в сказках народов всего мира, представлен определенный моральный кодекс и отражены культ предков, вера в духов, талисманы и силы природы. В связи с трудностями получить информацию непосредственно от народов Кении идея использовать фольклор для интерпретации культурных ценностей кажется достаточно перспективной, особенно в свете усилий кенийской интеллигенции приобщить к родной культуре урбанизированную кенийскую молодежь, получающую школьное и университетское образование на английском языке. Рассматриваются примеры применения этнографического анализа на материале африканских сказок с целью интерпретации социокультурных ценностей. Высказывается предположение, что в фольклоре комбинаторика универсальных (общечеловеческих) и идеоэтнических (национальных) ценностей отражается специфическим образом: рассмотренные примеры ценностей являются универсальными, но реализуются они идеоэтнически. Folklore collections usually complement ethnographic studies, as folklore provides ethnographers with valuable sources of information. Extracting and analyzing different types of text information is a well-known technique in the humanities. Therefore, it is promising to use folklore as a source for exploring and interpreting cultural values. This article uses a value-based approach to the study of culture. It aims to examine the folklore of ethnic groups in Kenya and neighboring regions as a source for identifying and interpreting sociocultural values. The main contribution of this article to a model for teaching Russian as a foreign language in educational institutions in Kenya is to give an idea of the traditional values of the peoples of Kenya and to show the importance of folklore for teaching as it appears in the fairy tales of peoples around the world. African fairy tales convey certain morals and reflect ancestor worship, beliefs in spirits, talismans, and the forces of nature. Since it is difficult to obtain information directly from the peoples of Kenya, the idea of using folklore to interpret cultural values seems quite promising, especially given the efforts of the Kenyan intelligentsia to focus the attention of urbanized Kenyan youth on their native culture while they receive their school and university education in English. The article discusses examples of applying ethnographic analysis to African fairy tale material to interpret sociocultural values. It suggests that folklore reflects the combination of universal and ethno-national values in a particular way: The examples of values considered are universal, but their expression is ethnic.

This paper focuses on my study of a narrative research inquiry and interpretative paradigm under a qualitative research approach of in-service secondary level mathematics teacher of Kavrepalanchok district in Nepal based on my research. The study included five in-service teachers from the district chosen using a purposive sampling strategy. As a data collection strategy, I conducted in-depth interviews utilizing interview guidelines to elicit the narrative stories of response participants. I used qualitative data analysis methods to transcribe the participants' shared tales in order to generate themes. I gained the insight that absolutism and positivistic notions of mathematics education had influenced assessment practices in Nepal fifteen years ago from 2005 AD to 2020 AD. At the time, constructionist education for creating mathematical knowledge through assessment was uncommon. To enable mathematical learning, the students had fewer possibilities for competition-based learning, engagement, communication, and teamwork. Furthermore, the curriculum design of secondary level mathematics at that time was exclusive to focus on students' need, interests, and individual learning capacities Instead, math teachers took mathematics as a subject for gifted children and did not focus enough attention on individualized education for low-performing students. Students learned mathematics designed with a disengaged curriculum, non-participatory teaching, and insufficient evaluation using technology. Mathematics teachers did not frequently choose to develop a questioning environment in the classroom as part of the students' assessment. By focusing on summative assessment and paper pencil tests as a typical assessment approach, teachers overlooked student variety. Students lacked motivation, feedback, and encouragement from teachers when it came to assessment, which resulted in poor academic performance. Because the mathematics textbooks were published in English, students frequently had issues with the medium of instruction, particularly at the plus two (+2) level or equivalent to the intermediate level.

The article is devoted to linguistic universals as one of the most important term of typology and the foundation of comparative research. Purpose. The analysis is aimed at tracing the history of the emergence and formation of the term linguistic universals, as well as analyzing the available definitions and classifications of universals on the basis of the synthesis of the views of famous linguists and the authors’ own observations, and determining the place of verbal constructions with an aspectual meaning in the system of linguistic universals. The relevance of the research is due to the constant interest of scientists in particular languages as a product of universal thinking, as well as the discovery of new universals and the need for their description and systematization. The research material is the texts of translations of Ossetian folk tales into Russian, English and Turkish. Materials and methods. The methodological basis of the study is theoretical analysis of literary sources, comparison, generalization, systematization оf empirical data. Results. The article concludes that there is no unambiguous interpretation of linguistic universals and, consequently, there are different approaches to the definition of the term universals depending on the volume of linguistic phenomena covered by this term. Discrepancies in the set of tools for implementing universal aspectual meanings of the compared languages can be explained by the peculiarities of the structural and typological organization of each specific language. Practical implications. The results of the analysis can be used in routine didactic processes, contributing to the improvement of the methodology of teaching a practical course of languages, a course of theoretical grammar, translation theory.

В рамках настоящей статьи предпринята попытка сопоставительного анализа отдельных способов действия, участвующих в формировании аспектуальных значений осетинского и английского языков. Языковые факты и явления рассматриваются с позиций функционально-семантического анализа, который представляется нам некоей лингвистической универсалией, позволяющей дифференцировать вид как морфологическую категорию и способы глагольного действия, в образовании которых участвуют лексические, лексико-синтаксические, а также морфологические средства в их разнообразных проявлениях. Изучению способов глагольного действия, как одного из составляющих функционально-семантического поля (ФСП) аспектуальности, посвящено немало работ и все же многие вопросы, затрагивающие классификацию способов действия, схему организации ФСП аспектуальности в языках разной типологической отнесенности и статуса его (ФСП) компонентов (ядра и периферии) интерпретируются учеными неоднозначно и нуждаются в дальнейшей разработке. Материалом для исследования послужили тексты осетинских нартских сказаний и их англоязычные переводы Уолтера Мэя. Методологическую базу исследования составили анализ литературных источников, посвященных вопросам аспектуальности, сравнение, обобщение, систематизация языкового материала, полученного эмпирическим путем. Делается вывод о том, что любой язык располагает разноуровневыми языковыми средствами для передачи аспектуальных значений. По своему внутреннему устройству ФСП аспектуальности в осетинском и английском языках существенно разнятся, что находит подтверждение в фактологическом материале статьи. Сопоставительное изучение языков, помимо теоретического значения, имеет и прикладную значимость. Результаты проведенного анализа могут быть использованы для решения практических задач межкультурной коммуникации, способствовать совершенствованию методики преподавания практического курса изучаемых лингвосистем, теоретической грамматики и теории перевода. При дальнейшей разработке темы предполагается разбор способов действия, не нашедших отражения в настоящей статье. In the present article, a comparative analysis of individual aktionsarten involved in the building of aspect meanings in the Ossetian and English is attempted. A functional-semantic approach to the analysis of linguistic phenomena seems to us to be a kind of linguistic universal, which allows us to differentiate the species as a morphological category (if any in the language) and aktionsart, in the formation of which lexical, lexical-syntactic, as well as morphological means in their various manifestations participate. Despite the rich history and advances in aspectology, many questions interpreted differently by scientists and require further research. The research was based on the texts of Ossetian Tales of the Narts and their English translation by Walter May. The methodological basis of the study was: analysis of literary sources devoted to the issues of aspect, comparison, generalization, systematization of linguistic material obtained by using empirical way. It is concluded that every language has different levels of tools for the transmission of aspect meanings. Functional-semantic fields in the languages of different typological organizations differ significantly in their design, which is confirmed in the research materials. The comparative study of languages has not only theoretical but also applied relevance. The results of the study can be used to solve practical problems of intercultural communication, contribute to the improvement of methods of teaching a practical course of language systems under study, theoretical grammar and translation theory.

The preschool period is an important phase of child development, which includes cognitive aspects, especially in terms of growth and creative thinking, but many teachers still use conventional learning strategies. This study aimed to investigate effective teacher strategies for improving creative thinking in preschool children in a multiliteracy-based learning environment. The research method used a qualitative approach with a multisite case study research involving a kindergarten school. The informants were selected using a purposive sampling technique involving nine informants, including teachers, assistant teachers, and school principals. The research findings show that implementing the strategy steps can create a dynamic and creative learning environment that supports literacy development in various contexts. Factors such as competent teachers, access to resources, and management of barriers shape an effective multi-literacy environment. The positive impact motivates students to continue thinking creatively and exploratively. The multiliteracies approach enhances preschoolers' creativity through purposeful strategies, teacher collaboration, resource support, and the use of diverse media, which empowers literacy in education. Keywords: creative thinking, multiliteracy, teacher, preschoolers References: Auris Villegas, D., Colquepisco Paucar, N. T., Cuba Garcia, S., & Vilca Arana, M. (2021). Revista Innova Educación. Revista Innova Educación, 3(1), 6–19. Behnamnia, N., Kamsin, A., Ismail, M. A. B., & Hayati, A. (2020). The effective components of creativity in digital game-based learning among young children: A case study. Children and Youth Services Review. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.childyouth.2020.105227 Bergen, E. van, Zuijen, T. van, Bishop, D., & Jong, P. F. de. (2017). Why Are Home Literacy Environment and Children’s Reading Skills Associated? What Parental Skills Reveal. Reading Research Quarterly, 52(2), 147–160. https://doi.org/10.1002/RRQ.160 Bohn, M. F., & de Freitas, E. C. (2020). Under multiliteracy lenses: Reading and comprehension of meaning in texts of multimodal genres. Revista Conhecimento Online. https://doi.org/10.25112/RCO.V3I0.1878 Brezovszky, B., McMullen, J., Veermans, K., Hannula-Sormunen, M. M., Rodríguez-Aflecht, G., Pongsakdi, N., Laakkonen, E., & Lehtinen, E. (2019). Effects of a mathematics game-based learning environment on primary school students’ adaptive number knowledge. Computers and Education. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.compedu.2018.09.011 Cortés Loyola, C., Adlerstein Grimberg, C., & Bravo Colomer, Ú. (2020). Early childhood teachers making multiliterate learning environments: The emergence of a spatial design thinking process. Thinking Skills and Creativity, 36(March), 100655. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.tsc.2020.100655 Daulay, U., Adisaputera, A., & Eviyanti, E. (2022). Multiliteracy-Based Teaching Materials To Improve Student Understanding. https://doi.org/10.4108/eai.20-9-2022.2324513 Díaz-Díaz, M., Sanz, Y. E., & Ezpeleta, A. L. M. (2022). Reading on digital media and the reading process of teachers in training. Pixel-Bit, Revista de Medios y Educacion. https://doi.org/10.12795/PIXELBIT.91903 Do, H., Do, B. N., & Nguyen, M. H. (2023). Heliyon 3How do constructivism learning environments generate better motivation and learning strategies ? The Design Science Approach. Heliyon, 9(12), e22862. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.heliyon.2023.e22862 Evans, C. (2020). Measuring Student Success Skills: a Review of the Literature on Critical Thinking. Center For Assessment. Galaktionova, T., & Kazakova, O. (2022). Multiliterate Person: the View of Students and Teachers. Media Education (Mediaobrazovanie). https://doi.org/10.13187/me.2022.2.221 Gube, M., & Lajoie, S. (2020). Adaptive expertise and creative thinking : A synthetic review and implications for practice. Thinking Skills and Creativity, 35(August 2019), 100630. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.tsc.2020.100630 Hapidin, Pujianti, Y., Syarah, E. S., & Gunarti, W. (2023). Teacher’s Understanding of Project Learning Models through Children’s Comics with STEAM Content in Indonesia. JPUD - Jurnal Pendidikan Usia Dini. https://doi.org/10.21009/jpud.171.06 Huang, J., Zang, Y., Ren, L. H., Li, F. J., & Lu, H. (2019). A review and comparison of common maternal positions during the second-stage of labor. International Journal of Nursing Sciences, 6(4), 460–467. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.ijnss.2019.06.007 Kulju, P., Kupiainen, R., Wiseman, A. M., Jyrkiäinen, A., Koskinen-Sinisalo, K.-L., & Mäkinen, M. (2018). A Review of Multiliteracies Pedagogy in Primary Classrooms. Language and Literacy, 20(2), 80–101. https://doi.org/10.20360/langandlit29333 Kustiawan, U., & Yafie, E. (2021). The Effect of Storytelling Assisted by Pop-Up Media to Improve Language Development Skills and Attitude of Opinion. International Journal of Research and Review, 11(18), 114–128. https://doi.org/10.52403/ijrr.20210897 Malmia, W., Makatita, S. H., Lisaholit, S., Azwan, A., Magfirah, I., Tinggapi, H., & Umanailo, M. C. B. (2019). Problem-based learning as an effort to improve student learning outcomes. International Journal of Scientific and Technology Research. Miles, M. B., & Huberman, A. M. (2018). Qualitative Data Analysis: A Methods Sourcebook. Miller, T., Daugherty, L., Martorell, P., & Gerber, R. (2022). Assessing the Effect of Corequisite English Instruction Using a Randomized Controlled Trial. Journal of Research on Educational Effectiveness. https://doi.org/10.1080/19345747.2021.1932000 Murray, C. J. L., Callender, C. S. K. H., Kulikoff, X. R., Srinivasan, V., Abate, D., Abate, K. H., Abay, S. M., Abbasi, N., Abbastabar, H., Abdela, J., Abdelalim, A., Abdel-Rahman, O., Abdi, A., Abdoli, N., Abdollahpour, I., Abdulkader, R. S., Abebe, H. T., Abebe, M., Abebe, Z., … Lim, S. S. (2018). Population and fertility by age and sex for 195 countries and territories, 1950–2017: a systematic analysis for the Global Burden of Disease Study 2017. The Lancet. https://doi.org/10.1016/S0140-6736(18)32278-5 Nikkola, T., Reunamo, J., & Ruokonen, I. (2022). Children’s creative thinking abilities and social orientations in Finnish early childhood education and care. Early Child Development and Care, 192(6), 872–886. https://doi.org/10.1080/03004430.2020.1813122 Nopilda, L., & Kristiawan, M. (2018). Gerakan Literasi Sekolah Berbasis Pembelajaran Multiliterasi Sebuah Paradigma Pendidikan Abad Ke- 21. JMKSP (Jurnal Manajemen, Kepemimpinan, Dan Supervisi Pendidikan). https://doi.org/https://doi.org/10.31851/jmksp.v3i2.1862 Nuryani, P., Abidin, Y., & Herlambang, Y. T. (2019). Model Pedagogik Multiliterasi Dalam Mengembangkan Keterampilan Berpikir Abad Ke-21. EduHumaniora | Jurnal Pendidikan Dasar Kampus Cibiru, 11(2), 117–126. https://doi.org/10.17509/eh.v11i2.18821 O’Reilly, C., Devitt, A., & Hayes, N. (2022). Critical thinking in the preschool classroom - A systematic literature review. Thinking Skills and Creativity, 46(August). https://doi.org/10.1016/j.tsc.2022.101110 Palsa, L., & Mertala, P. (2019). Multiliteracies in local curricula: conceptual contextualizations of transversal competence in the finnish curricular framework. Nordic Journal of Studies in Educational Policy. https://doi.org/10.1080/20020317.2019.1635845 Papadopoulos, I., & Bisiri, E. (2020). Fostering Critical Thinking Skills in Preschool Education: Designing, Implementing and Assessing a Multiliteracies-Oriented Program Based on Intercultural Tales. Multilingual Academic Journal of Education and Social Sciences, 8(1). https://doi.org/10.46886/majess/v8-i1/7263 Pristiwo, S. B., & Muflihah, M. (2023). Practice of the Socratic Seminar Method in Teaching Speaking at the 10th Grade of State Vocational High School 3 Purwokerto. English Education: Jurnal Tadris Bahasa Inggris. https://doi.org/10.24042/ee-jtbi.v16i1.15795 Pye, R. E., & Chan, H. H. (2023). Dynamic tests as a language-free method for assessing reading in a multilingual setting. Journal of Cultural Cognitive Science. https://doi.org/10.1007/s41809-023-00120-8 Qadri, L., Ikhsan, M., & Yusrizal, Y. (2019). Mathematical Creative Thinking Ability for Students Through REACT Strategies. International Journal for Educational and Vocational Studies, 1(1), 58. https://doi.org/10.29103/ijevs.v1i1.1483 Rahman, M. A., Melliyani, M., Handrianto, C., Erma, E., & Rasool, S. (2022). PROSPECT AND PROMISE IN INTEGRATING MULTILITERACY PEDAGOGY IN THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE CLASSROOM IN INDONESIA. ETERNAL (English, Teaching, Learning, and Research Journal). https://doi.org/10.24252/eternal.v81.2022.a3 Richard, V., Lebeau, J. C., Becker, F., Inglis, E. R., & Tenenbaum, G. (2018). Do more creative people adapt better? An investigation into the association between creativity and adaptation. Psychology of Sport and Exercise, 38(September), 80–89. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.psychsport.2018.06.001 Rosen, Y., Stoeffler, K., & Simmering, V. (2020). Imagine: Design for creative thinking, learning, and assessment in schools. Journal of Intelligence, 8(2). https://doi.org/10.3390/jintelligence8020016 Saregar, A., Cahyanti, U. N., Misbah, Susilowati, N. E., Anugrah, A., & Muhammad, N. (2021). Core learning model: Its effectiveness towards students’ creative thinking. International Journal of Evaluation and Research in Education, 10(1), 35–41. https://doi.org/10.11591/ijere.v10i1.20813 Scott-Barrett, J., Johnston, S. K., Denton-Calabrese, T., McGrane, J. A., & Hopfenbeck, T. N. (2023). Nurturing curiosity and creativity in primary school classrooms. Teaching and Teacher Education, 135(June 2022), 104356. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.tate.2023.104356 Selayani, N. K., & Bayu, G. W. (2023). Pembelajaran Berbasis Multiliterasi di Sekolah Dasar: Bagaimana Mengoptimalkannya? Jurnal Ilmiah Pendidikan Profesi Guru, 5(3), 466–478. https://doi.org/10.23887/jippg.v5i3.57400 Shah, B., & Gustafsson, E. (2021). Exploring the Effects of Age, Gender, and School Setting on Children’s Creative Thinking Skills. Journal of Creative Behavior, 55(2), 546–553. https://doi.org/10.1002/jocb.480 Sitepu, K. B., Adisaputera, A., & Lubis, M. (2022). Development of Interactive Learning Media Based on Multiliteration for Ability to Develop Exposition Texts in Class X Students of SMA Negeri 1 Salapian. https://doi.org/10.4108/eai.20-9-2022.2324547 Tang, T., Vezzani, V., & Eriksson, V. (2020). Developing critical thinking, collective creativity skills and problem solving through playful design jams. Thinking Skills and Creativity. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.tsc.2020.100696 Torrance, E. P. (1968). A longitudinal examination of the fourth grade slump in creativity. The Gifted Child Quarterly, 12(4). https://doi.org/https://doi.org/10.1177/ 001698626801200401 Trisnayanti, Y., Khoiri, A., Miterianifa, & Ayu, H. D. (2019). Development of Torrance test creativity thinking (TTCT) instrument in science learning. AIP Conference Proceedings, 2194(December). https://doi.org/10.1063/1.5139861 Ulger, K. (2018). The effect of problem-based learning on the creative thinking and critical thinking disposition of students in visual arts education. Interdisciplinary Journal of Problem-Based Learning, 12(1). Untari, E. (2017). Pentingnya Pembelajaran Multiliterasi untuk Mahasiswa Pendidikan Guru Sekolah Dasar dalam Mempersiapkan Diri Menghadapi Kurikulum 2013. Wahana Sekolah Dasar, 25(1), 16–22. https://doi.org/10.17977/um035v25i12017p016 Wu, Y., Lian, K., Hong, P., Liu, S., Lin, R. M., & Lian, R. (2019). Teachers’ Emotional Intelligence and Self-efficacy: Mediating Role Of Teaching Performance. Social Behavior and Personality, 47(3). https://doi.org/10.2224/SBP.7869 Yafie, E., Ashari, Z. M., Samah, N. A., Widiyawati, R., Setyaningsih, D., & Haqqi, Y. A. (2023). The Effectiveness of Seamless Mobile Assisted Real Training for Parents (SMART-P) Usage to Improve Parenting Knowledge and Children’s Cognitive Development. International Journal of Interactive Mobile Technologies. https://doi.org/10.3991/ijim.v17i10.37883 Yafie, E., Giavarini, I., & Maulidia, L. N. (2020). Stimulating strategy children experiencing late language emergence (LLE) during pandemic covid-19. 193–197. https://doi.org/10.2991/ASSEHR.K.201112.034 Yafie, E., Olufunke, O.-F. T., Ali, M., Robbaniyah, I., Maulidia, L. N., & Setyaningsih, D. (2021). The Combination of Imaginative Teaching Methods and Multimedia Learning in Early Childhood Education during COVID Pandemic: Social-Emotional and Language Development. Al-Athfal: Jurnal Pendidikan Anak, 7(1), 1–14. https://doi.org/10.14421/al-athfal.2021.71-01 Yildiz, C., & Yildiz, T. G. (2021). Exploring the relationship between creative thinking and scientific process skills of preschool children. Thinking Skills and Creativity. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.tsc.2021.100795

In the light of #FeesMustFall, decolonisation has come to the fore in the South African higher education landscape. Decolonisation proposes the overthrow of entrenched European power relations in higher education and the study of fairy tales within a pre-service teaching degree in a university English curriculum provides an ideal opportunity for lecturers to challenge this dominance. All too often, cultural fairy tales are analysed and studied within the European trajectory of the structuralist/formalist classification tradition, often rendering the tale to an oversimplified outline which has been reduced to archetypes, motifs and memes which are universalised across cultures and texts. Epistemic awareness of Afrikology has been suggested as a way of facilitating the inclusion of Afrocentric thinking in the English curriculum and giving pre-service teachers a voice in their own learning. The purpose of this paper is to track the creation of context-relevant cultural capital in the writing of fairy tales. An analysis of the results shows that deep critical engagement with the cultural metaphors presented in fairy tales leads to the development of Afrocentric cultural capital that is highly contextualised and rooted in the language and customs of the cultural identity of the writers who transcoded the fairy tales.

Using literature in language teaching as authentic material has many advantages such as developing learners’ intercultural competence, personal involvement, proficiency in the target language, creativity, critical, and analytical thinking, interpreting, speaking and communication skills. Correspondingly, the purposes of this study are to explore how many state universities have the syllabus for English Literature courses on their official websites and to find out the most preferred topics of English Literature courses in ELT programs. As a part of the qualitative data collection, online curriculums of 59 state universities were explored to find the most preferred topics of these courses. Based on the findings of the study, out of 59 universities, only 37 universities’ online syllabi of “English Literature Course I and II” were available. Also, common topics in English Literature courses’ syllabi of 37 universities were listed. Medieval English Literature - The Canterbury Tales Geoffrey Chaucer, Old English Period - Beowulf, and Elizabethan Era - Shakespeare were among the most preferred topics, while Middle Age period: historic, social, literary events, Contemporary English Literature, 20th-century literature were the least preferred ones. In the conclusion part of the study, some suggestions were presented for syllabi of English Literature courses in ELT departments of universities.

AbstractThis paper introduces a teaching experiment that uses a set of local translations of a European medieval text—in this case, Korean translations of Chaucer's Canterbury Tales—as teaching texts in the Korean classroom alongside the original work. Students compare a range of translations dating from all periods of the 20th century, including one from as early as 1915 and others from the 1960s, 1980s, and 2000s. Tracking the variety of translation methods and different linguistic and artistic choices employed by these multiple translations allows even students unfamiliar with Middle English to gain a better sense of the particulars of Chaucer's language and character‐making. Treating translation itself as a creative mode, this paper argues that even bad translations and messy histories of linguistic interference can be put to productive pedagogical use. Recuperated local translation archives can be used in the teaching of Middle English literature by helping students understand Chaucer's own positionality as a translator and compiler. Such archives also contribute to the study of comparative literature more broadly as they present case studies of how ideas of world literature are formed over time and space, and encourage a critical engagement with the canon even as it is being taught.

The usual postmodern suspicions about diligently deciphering authorial intent or stridently seeking fixed meaning/s and/or binary distinctions in an artistic work aside, this self-indulgent essay pushes the boundaries regarding normative academic research, for it focusses on my own (minimally celebrated) published creative writing’s status as a literary innovation. Dedicated to illuminating some of the less common denominators at play in Australian horror, my paper recalls the creative writing process involved when I set upon the (arrogant?) goal of creating a new genre of creative writing: that of the ‘Aboriginal Fantastic’. I compare my work to the literary output of a small but significant group (2.5% of the population), of which I am a member: Aboriginal Australians. I narrow my focus even further by examining that creative writing known as Aboriginal horror. And I reduce the sample size of my study to an exceptionally small number by restricting my view to one type of Aboriginal horror literature only: the Aboriginal vampire novel, a genre to which I have contributed professionally with the 2011 paperback and 2012 e-book publication of That Blackfella Bloodsucka Dance! However, as this paper hopefully demonstrates, and despite what may be interpreted by some cynical commentators as the faux sincerity of my taxonomic fervour, Aboriginal horror is a genre noteworthy for its instability and worthy of further academic interrogation.Surprising to many, Aboriginal Australian mythology includes at least one truly vampire-like entity, despite Althans’ confident assertion that the Bunyip is “Australia’s only monster” (16) which followed McKee’s equally fearless claim that “there is no blackfella tradition of zombies or vampires” (201). Gelder’s Ghost Stories anthology also only mentions the Bunyip, in a tale narrated by Indigenous man Percy Mumbulla (250). Certainly, neither of these academics claim Indigeneity in their ethnicity and most Aboriginal Australian scholars will happily agree that our heterogeneous Indigenous cultures and traditions are devoid of opera-cape wearing Counts who sleep in coffins or are repelled by crucifix-wielding Catholics. Nevertheless, there are fascinating stories--handed down orally from one generation to the next (Australian Aborigines, of course, have no ancestral writing system)--informing wide-eyed youngsters of bloodsucking, supernatural entities that return from the grave to feed upon still living blackfellas: hence Unaipon describes the red-skinned, fig tree-dwelling monster, the “Yara Ma Yha Who […] which sucks the blood from the victim and leaves him helpless upon the ground” (218). Like most vampires, this monster imparts a similarly monstrous existence upon his prey, which it drains of blood through the suckers on its fingers, not its teeth. Additionally, Reed warns: “Little children, beware of the Yara-ma-yha-who! If you do not behave yourselves and do as you are told, they will come and eat you!” (410), but no-one suggests this horrible creature is actually an undead human.For the purposes of this paper at least, the defining characteristics of a vampire are firstly that it must have once been an ordinary, living human. Secondly, it must have an appetite for human blood. Thirdly, it must have a ghoulish inability to undergo a permanent death (note, zombies, unlike vampires it seems, are fonder of brains than fresh hemoglobin and are particularly easy to dispatch). Thus, according to my criteria, an arguably genuine Aboriginal Australian vampire is referred to when Bunson writes of the Mrart being an improperly buried member of the tribe who has returned after death to feed upon the living (13) and when Cheung notes “a number of vampire-like creatures were feared, most especially the mrart, the ghost of a dead person who attacked victims at night and dragged them away from campsites” (40). Unfortunately, details regarding this “number of vampire-like creatures” have not been collated, nor I fear, in this era of rapidly extinguishing Aboriginal Australian language use, are they ever likely to be.Perhaps the best hope for preservation of these little known treasures of our mythology lies not with anthropologists but with the nation’s Indigenous creative writers. Yet no blackfella novelist, apparently, has been interested in the monstrous, bloodsucking, Aboriginal Undead. Despite being described as dominating the “Black Australian novel” (Shoemaker 1), writer Mudrooroo--who has authored three vampire novels--reveals nothing of Aboriginal Australian vampirology in his texts. Significantly, however, Mudrooroo states that Aboriginal Australian novelists such as he “are devoting their words to the Indigenous existential being” (Indigenous 3). Existentiality, of course, has to do with questions of life, death and dying and, for we Aboriginal Australians, such questions inevitably lead to us addressing the terrible consequences of British invasion and genocide upon our cultural identity, and this is reflected in Mudrooroo’s effective use of the vampire trope in his three ‘Ghost Dreaming’ novels, as they are also known. Mudrooroo’s bloodsuckers, however, are the invading British and Europeans in his extended ‘white man as ghost’ metaphor: they are not sourced from Aboriginal Australian mythology.Mudrooroo does, notably, intertwine his story of colonising vampires in Australia with characters created by Bram Stoker in his classic novel Dracula (1897). He calls his first Aborigine to become a familiar “Renfield” (Undying 93), and even includes a soft-porn re-imagining of an encounter between characters he has inter-textually named “Lucy” and “Mina” (Promised 3). This potential for a contemporary transplantation of Stoker’s European characters to Australia was another aspect I sought to explore in my novel, especially regarding semi-autobiographical writing by mixed-race Aboriginal Australians such as Mudrooroo and myself. I wanted to meta-fictionally insert my self-styled anti-hero into a Stoker-inspired milieu. Thus my work features a protagonist who is confused and occasionally ambivalent about his Aboriginal identity. Brought up as Catholic, as I was, he succumbs to an Australian re-incarnation of Stoker’s Dracula as Anti-Christ and finds himself battling the true-believers of the Catholic Church, including a Moroccan version of Professor Van Helsing and a Buffy-like, quasi-Islamic vampire slayer.Despite his once revered status, Mudrooroo is now exiled from the Australian literary scene as a result of his claim to Indigeneity being (apparently) disproven (see Clark). Illness and old age prevent him from defending the charges, hence it is unlikely that Mudrooroo (or Colin Johnson as he was formerly known) will further develop the Aboriginal Australian vampire trope in his writing. Which situation leaves me to cautiously identify myself as the sole Aboriginal Australian novelist exploring Indigenous vampires in his/her creative writing, as evidenced by my 312 page novel That Blackfella Bloodsucka Dance!, which was a prescribed text in a 2014 Indiana University course on World Literature (Halloran).Set in a contemporary Australia where disparate existential explanations including the Aboriginal Dreamtime, Catholicism, vampirism and atheism all co-exist, the writing of my novel was motivated by the question: ‘How can such incongruent ideologies be reconciled or bridged?’ My personal worldview is influenced by all four of these explanations for the mysteries of life and death: I was brought up in Catholicism but schooled in scientific methodology, which evolved into an insipid atheism. Culturally I was drawn to the gothic novel and developed an intellectual interest in Stoker’sDracula and its significance as a pro-Catholic, covert mission of proselytization (see Starrs 2004), whilst simultaneously learning more of my totem, Garrawi (the Sulphur-crested White Cockatoo), and the Aboriginal Dreamtime legends of my ancestral forebears. Much of my novel concerns questions of identity for a relatively light-complexioned, mixed ancestry Aboriginal Australian such as myself, and the place such individuals occupy in the post-colonial world. Mudrooroo, perhaps, was right in surmising that we Aboriginal Australian authors are devoted to writing about “the Indigenous existential being” for my Aboriginal vampire novel is at least semi-autobiographical and fixated on the protagonist’s attempts to reconcile his atheism with his Dreamtime teachings and Catholicism. But Mudrooroo’s writing differs markedly from my own when it comes to the expectations he has regarding the audience’s acceptance of supernatural themes. He apparently fully believed in the possibility of such unearthly spirits existing, and wrote of the “Maban Reality” whereby supernatural events are entirely tenable in the Aboriginal Australian world-view, and the way these matters are presented suggests he expects the reader to be similarly convinced. With this Zeitgeist, Mudrooroo’s ‘Ghost Dreaming’ novels can be accurately described as Aboriginal Gothic. In this genre, Chanady explains, “the supernatural, as well as highly improbable events, are presented without any comment by the magical realist narrator” ("Magic Realism" 431).What, then, is the meaning of Aboriginal Gothic, given we Aboriginal peoples have no haunted castles or mist-shrouded graveyards? Again according to Chanady, as she set out in her groundbreaking monograph of 1985, in a work of Magical Realism the author unquestioningly accepts the supernatural as credible (10-12), even as, according to Althans, it combines “the magical and realist, into a new perspective of the world, thus offering alternative ways and new approaches to reality” (26). From this general categorisation, Althans proposes, comes the specific genre of Aboriginal Gothic, which is Magical Realism in an Indigenous context that creates a “cultural matrix foreign to a European audience [...] through blending the Gothic mode in its European tradition with the myths and customs of Aboriginal culture” (28-29). She relates the Aboriginal Gothic to Mudrooroo’s Maban Reality due to its acting “as counter-reality, grounded in the earth or country, to a rational worldview and the demands of a European realism” (28). Within this category sit not only the works of Aboriginal Australian novelists such as Mudrooroo, but also more recent novels by Aboriginal Australian writers Kim Scott and Alexis Wright, who occasionally indulge in improbable narratives informed by supernatural beings (while steering disappointingly clear of vampires).But there is more to the Aboriginal Gothic than a naïve acceptance of Maban Reality, or, for that matter, any other Magical Realist treatments of Aboriginal Australian mythology. Typically, the work of Aboriginal Gothic writers speaks to the historical horrors of colonisation. In contrast to the usually white-authored Australian Gothic, in which the land down under was seen as terrifying by the awestruck colonisers, and the Aborigine was portrayed as “more frightening than any European demon” (Turcotte, "Australian Gothic" 10), the Aboriginal Gothic sometimes reverses roles and makes the invading white man the monster. The Australian Gothic was for Aborigines, “a disabling, rather than enabling, discourse” (Turcotte, "Australian Gothic" 10) whilst colonial Gothic texts egregiously portrayed the colonised subject as a fearsome and savage Other. Ostensibly sub-human, from a psychoanalytic point of view, the Aborigine may even have symbolised the dark side of the British settler, but who, in the very act of his being subjugated, assures the white invader of his racial superiority, moral integrity and righteous identity. However, when Aboriginal Australian authors reiterate, when we subjugated savages wrestle the keyboard away, readers witness the Other writing back, critically. Receivers of our words see the distorted and silencing master discourse subverted and, indeed, inverted. Our audiences are subjectively repositioned to see the British Crown as the monster. The previously presumed civil coloniser is instead depicted as the author and perpetrator of a violently racist, criminal discourse, until, eventually, s/he is ultimately ‘Gothicised’: eroded and made into the Other, the villainous, predatory savage. In this style of vicious literary retaliation Mudrooroo excelled. Furthermore, as a mixed ancestry Aborigine, like myself, Mudrooroo represented in his very existence, the personification of Aboriginal Gothic, for as Idilko Riendes writes, “The half caste is reminiscent of the Gothic monstrous, as the half caste is something that seems unnatural at first, evoking fears” (107). Perhaps therein lies a source of the vehemency with which some commentators have pilloried Mudrooroo after the somewhat unconvincing evidence of his non-Indigeneity? But I digress from my goal of explicating the meaning of the term Aboriginal Gothic.The boundaries of any genre are slippery and one of the features of postmodern literature is its deliberate blurring of boundaries, hence defining genres is not easy. Perhaps the Gothic can be better understood when the meaning of its polar opposite, the Fantastic, is better understood. Ethnic authorial controversies aside and returning to the equally shady subject of authorial intent, in contrast to the Aboriginal Gothic of novelists Mudrooroo, Scott and Wright, and their accepting of the supernatural as plausible, the Fantastic in literature is characterised by an enlightened rationality in which the supernatural is introduced but ultimately rejected by the author, a literary approach that certainly sits better with my existential atheism. Chanady defined and illustrated the genre as follows: “the fantastic […] reaffirmed hegemonic Western rational paradigms by portraying the supernatural in a contradictory manner as both terrifying and logically impossible […] My examples of the fantastic were drawn from the work of major French writers such as Merimee and Maupassant” ("Magic Realism" 430). Unfortunately, Chanady was unable to illustrate her concept of the Fantastic with examples of Aboriginal horror writing. Why? Because none existed until my novel was published. Whereas Mudrooroo, Scott and Wright incorporated the Magical Realism of Aboriginal Australian mythology into their novels, and asked their readers to accept it as not only plausible but realistic and even factual, I wanted to create a style that blends Aboriginal mythology with the European tradition of vampires, but ultimately rejects this “cultural matrix” due to enlightened rationality, as I deliberately and cynically denounce it all as fanciful superstition.Certainly, the adjective “fantastic” is liberally applied to much of what we call Gothic horror literature, and the sub-genre of Indigenous vampire literature is not immune to this confusion, with non-Australian Indigenous author Aaron Carr’s 1995 Native American vampire novel, The Eye Killers, unhelpfully described in terms of the “fantastic nature of the genre” (Tillett 149). In this novel,Carr exposes contemporary Native American political concerns by skillfully weaving multiple interactive dialogues with horror literature and film, contemporary U.S. cultural preoccupations, postmodern philosophies, traditional vampire lore, contemporary Native literature, and Native oral traditions. (Tillett 150)It must be noted, however, that Carr does not denounce the supernatural vampire and its associated folklore, be it European or Laguna/Kerasan/Navajo, as illogical or fanciful. This despite his “dialogues with […] contemporary U.S. cultural preoccupations [and] postmodern philosophies”. Indeed, the character “Diana” at one stage pretends to pragmatically denounce the supernatural whilst her interior monologue strenuously defends her irrational beliefs: the novel reads: “‘Of course there aren’t any ghosts,’ Diana said sharply, thinking: Of course there were ghosts. In this room. Everywhere” (197). In taking this stock-standard approach of expecting the reader to believe wholeheartedly in the existence of the Undead, Carr locates his work firmly in the Aboriginal Gothic camp and renders commentators such as Tillett liable to be called ignorant and uninformed when they label his work fantastic.The Aboriginal Gothic would leave the reader convinced a belief in the supernatural is non-problematic, whereas the Aboriginal Fantastic novel, where it exists, would, while enjoying the temporary departure from the restraints of reality, eventually conclude there are no such things as ghosts or vampires. Thus, my Aboriginal Fantastic novel That Blackfella Bloodsucka Dance! was intended from the very beginning of the creative writing process to be an existentially diametric alternative to Magical Realism and the Aboriginal Gothic (at least in its climactic denouement). The narrative features a protagonist who, in his defeat, realises the danger in superstitious devotion and in doing so his interior monologue introduces to the literary world the new Aboriginal Fantastic genre. Despite a Foucauldian emphasis in most of my critical analysis in which an awareness of the constructed status and nature of the subject/focus of knowledge undermines the foundations of any reductive typology, I am unhesitant in my claim to having invented a new genre of literature here. Unless there is, undiscovered by my research, a yet-to-be heralded work of Aboriginal horror that recognises the impossibility of its subject, my novel is unique even while my attitude might be decried as hubristic. I am also cognizant of the potential for angry feedback from my Aboriginal Australian kin, for my innovative genre is ultimately denigrating of all supernatural devotion, be it vampiric or Dreamtime. Aboriginal Fantastic writing rejects such mythologies as dangerous, fanciful superstition, but I make the (probably) too-little-too-late defence that it rejects the Indigenous existential rationale somewhat less vigorously than it rejects the existential superstitions of Catholicism and/or vampirism.This potential criticism I will forbear, perhaps sullenly and hopefully silently, but I am likely to be goaded to defensiveness by those who argue that like any Indigenous literature, Aboriginal Australian writing is inherently Magical Realist, and that I forsake my culture when I appeal to the rational. Chanady sees “magic realism as a mode that expresses important points of view, often related to marginality and subalternity” ("Magic Realism" 442). She is not alone in seeing it as the generic cultural expression of Indigenous peoples everywhere, for Bhabha writes of it as being the literature of the postcolonial world (6) whilst Rushdie sees it as the expression of a third world consciousness (301). But am I truly betraying my ancestral culture when I dismiss the Mrart as mere superstition? Just because it has colour should we revere ‘black magic’ over other (white or colourless) superstitions? Should we not suspect, as we do when seated before stage show illusionists, some sleight of (writing) hand? Some hidden/sub-textual agenda meant to entertain not educate? Our world has many previously declared mysteries now easily explained by science, and the notion of Earth being created by a Rainbow Serpent is as farcical to me as the notion it was created a few thousand years ago in seven days by an omniscient human-like being called God. If, in expressing this dubiousness, I am betraying my ancestors, I can only offer detractors the feeble defence that I sincerely respect their beliefs whilst not personally sharing them. I attempt no delegitimising of Aboriginal Australian mythology. Indeed, I celebrate different cultural imaginaries for they make our quotidian existence more colourful and enjoyable. There is much pleasure to be had in such excursions from the pedantry of the rational.Another criticism I might hear out--intellectually--would be: “Most successful literature is Magical Realist, and supernatural stories are irresistible”, a truism most commercially successful authors recognise. But my work was never about sales, indeed, the improbability of my (irresistible?) fiction is didactically yoked to a somewhat sanctimonious moral. My protagonist realises the folly and danger in superstitious devotion, although his atheistic epiphany occurs only during his last seconds of life. Thus, whilst pushing this barrow of enlightened rationality, my novel makes a somewhat original contribution to contemporary Australian culture, presenting in a creative writing form rather than anthropological report, an understanding of the potential for melding Aboriginal mythology with Catholicism, the “competing Dreamtimes, white and black” as Turcotte writes ("Re-mastering" 132), if only at the level of ultimately accepting, atheistically, that all are fanciful examples of self-created beyond-death identity, as real--or unreal--as any other religious meme. Whatever vampire literature people read, most such consumers do not believe in the otherworldly antagonists, although there is profound enjoyment to be had in temporarily suspending disbelief and even perpetuating the meme into the mindsets of others. Perhaps, somewhere in the sub-conscious, pre-rational recesses of our caveman-like brains, we still wonder if such supernatural entities reflect a symbolic truth we can’t quite apprehend. Instead, we use a totemic figure like the sultry but terrifying Count Dracula as a proxy for other kinds of primordial anxieties we cannot easily articulate, whether that fear is the child rapist on the loose or impending financial ruin or just the overwhelming sense that our contemporary lifestyles contain the very seeds of our own destruction, and we are actively watering them with our insouciance.In other words, there is little that is new in horror. Yes, That Blackfella Bloodsucka Dance! is an example of what I call the new genre of Aboriginal Fantastic but that claim is not much of an original contribution to knowledge, other than being the invention of an extra label in an unnecessarily formalist/idealist lexicon of literary taxonomy. Certainly, it will not create a legion of fans. But these days it is difficult for a novelist to find anything really new to write about, genre-wise, and if there is a reader prepared to pay hard-earned money for a copy, then I sincerely hope they do not feel they have purchased yet another example of what the HBO television show Californication’s creative writing tutor Hank Moody (David Duchovny) derides as “lame vampire fiction” (episode 2, 2007). I like to think my Aboriginal Fantastic novel has legs as well as fangs. References Althans, Katrin. Darkness Subverted: Aboriginal Gothic in Black Australian Literature and Film. Bonn: Bonn UP, 2010. Bhabha, Homi. Nation and Narration. London and New York: Routledge, 1990. Bunson, Matthew. The Vampire Encyclopedia. New York: Gramercy Books, 1993. Carr, Aaron A. Eye Killers. Norman: U of Oklahoma P, 1995. Chanady, Amaryll. Magical Realism and the Fantastic: Resolved versus Unresolved Antinomy. New York: Garland Publishing, 1985. Chanady, Amaryll. “Magic Realism Revisited: The Deconstruction of Antinomies.” Canadian Review of Comparative Literature (June 2003): 428-444. Cheung, Theresa. The Element Encyclopaedia of Vampires. London: Harper Collins, 2009. Clark, Maureen. Mudrooroo: A Likely Story: Identity and Belonging in Postcolonial Australia. Frankfurt: Peter Lang, 2007. Gelder, Ken. The Oxford Book of Australian Ghost Stories. Oxford: Oxford UP, 1994. Halloran, Vivien. “L224: Introduction to World Literatures in English.” Department of English, Indiana University, 2014. 2 Aug. 2014 ‹http://www.indiana.edu/~engweb/undergradCourses_spring.shtml›. McKee, Alan. “White Stories, Black Magic: Australian Horror Films of the Aboriginal.”Aratjara: Aboriginal Culture and Literature in Australia. Eds. Dieter Riemenschneider and Geoffrey V. Davis. Amsterdam: Rodopi Press (1997): 193-210. Mudrooroo. The Indigenous Literature of Australia. Melbourne: Hyland House, 1997. Mudrooroo. The Undying. Sydney: Harper Collins, 1998. Mudrooroo. The Promised Land. Sydney: Harper Collins, 2000. Reed, Alexander W. Aboriginal Myths, Legends and Fables. Sydney: Reed New Holland, 1999. Riendes, Ildiko. “The Use of Gothic Elements as Manifestations of Regaining Aboriginal Identity in Kim Scott’s Benang: From the Heart.” Topos 1.1 (2012): 100-114. Rushdie, Salman. “Gabriel Garcia Marquez.” Imaginary Homelands: Essays and Criticism 1981-1991. London: Granta and Penguin Books, 1991. Shoemaker, Adam. Mudrooroo. Sydney: Harper Collins, 1993. Starrs, D. Bruno. “Keeping the Faith: Catholicism in Dracula and its Adaptations.” Journal of Dracula Studies 6 (2004): 13-18. Starrs, D. Bruno. That Blackfella Bloodsucka Dance! Saarbrücken, Germany: Just Fiction Edition (paperback), 2011; Starrs via Smashwords (e-book), 2012. Tillett, Rebecca. “‘Your Story Reminds Me of Something’: Spectacle and Speculation in Aaron Carr’s Eye Killers.” Ariel: A Review of International English Literature 33.1 (2002): 149-73. Turcotte, Gerry. “Australian Gothic.” Faculty of Arts — Papers, University of Wollongong, 1998. 2 Aug. 2014 ‹http://ro.uow.edu.au/artspapers/60/›. Turcotte, Gerry. “Re-mastering the Ghosts: Mudrooroo and Gothic Refigurations.” Mongrel Signatures: Reflections on the Work of Mudrooroo. Ed. Annalisa Oboe. Amsterdam: Rodopi Press (2003): 129-151. Unaipon, David. Legendary Tales of the Australian Aborigines. Eds. Stephen Muecke and Adam Shoemaker. Carlton: The Miegunyah Press, 2006.

Abstract: Learning to write in a foreign language requires the mastery of L2 discursive items. However, teaching practices in the field have traditionally focused on a grammatical level, leaving other macro–linguistic aspects aside such as coherence and cohesion. In this paper, we are analysing the written academic discourse of a group of intermediate–level students of English to see how textual structures actually affect their final written output in L2. In order to obtain a coherent and cohesive text, explicit language awareness must be fostered in class on a daily basis: the teaching of L2 writing needs to be meaning–based so that text composition becomes more flexible and natural. Título en español: “Más allá del nivel oracional en la E.S.O.: estudio de caso de análisis del discurso de textos en L2”Resumen: Aprender a escribir en una lengua extranjera requiere dominar los elementos discursivos en la L2. Sin embargo, las corrientes pedagógicas de enseñanza de lenguas tienden a centrarse en un nivel gramatical, dejando estos aspectos discursivos de lado tales como la coherencia y la cohesión. En este artículo, analizamos el discurso acadé- mico de un grupo de estudiantes españoles de nivel intermedio de inglés para ver cómo las estructuras textuales influyen en el escrito final en L2. Con el fin de obtener un texto coherente y cohesivo, se necesita trabajar la conciencia lingüística en clase a diario: la enseñanza del inglés como L2 debe ser significativa para que la composición de textos pueda ser más flexible y natural.

El presente estudio compara el discurso oficial del Programa Nacional de Inglés (PRONI) sobre la evaluación y lo que realmente sucede en la práctica. Para ello se estudian las percepciones de nueve docentes del PRONI de escuelas primarias de Xalapa, Veracruz, México, acerca de sus propios contextos de enseñanza. Se optó por un enfoque cualitativo donde se utilizaron las entrevistas semiestructuradas para la recolección de los datos. Los resultados revelaron que hay una falta de correspondencia entre el discurso oficial del PRONI sobre la evaluación del aprendizaje y la práctica en las aulas. Los participantes dieron a conocer que algunas condiciones contextuales en el aula, tales como la falta de tiempo y los grupos muy numerosos, así como los multiniveles de competencia de inglés dentro de un mismo grupo, dificultan la evaluación del aprendizaje. Estas condiciones contextuales a veces generan actitudes negativas de los estudiantes hacia la evaluación. English as a Foreign Language Assessment to children in Mexico in the National English Program Abstract This study compares the official discourse of the National English Program (PRONI) on assessment and what actually happens in practice. To do this, the perceptions of nine PRONI teachers from primary schools in Xalapa, Veracruz, Mexico, about their own teaching contexts, are studied. A qualitative approach was chosen where semi-structured interviews were used for data collection. The results revealed that there is a lack of correspondence between the official discourse of PRONI on the evaluation of learning and the practice in the classroom. Participants revealed that some contextual conditions in the classroom, such as lack of time and large groups, as well as multiple levels of English proficiency within the same group, make it difficult to assess learning. These contextual conditions sometimes generate negative attitudes of the students towards the evaluation.

The usage of national cultural peculiarities for university students, i.e. the native language (Russian and Tatar) folklore in teaching a foreign language at Kazan Federal University is considered. The research aimed to study the pedagogical potential of folklore of the native language in the training of future primary school teachers. The students of the 5th year of the Institute of Psychology and Education took part in the experiment. The work lasted for one year. The authors held the English language classes where they used the genres of the folklore (Russian and Tatar) for different educational purposes. The results of the study were the creation of some interesting exercises which helped students master their communicative skills, improve their pronunciation, grammar, and expand their vocabulary. The future primary school teachers actively participated in the research and creation of the exercises. Students were involved into the atmosphere of studying history and culture of the country they live in by reading, retelling, and analyzing fairy tales, myths, legends, baits. Translating folklore genres from their native language into a foreign one, students developed and improved their vocabulary, communication, and translation skills. According to the experience the future primary school teachers worked hard in self-development, they tried to find and use additional sources: dictionaries, literature, textbooks, encyclopedias and publications.

Cerita rakyat dan dongeng dianggap materi tidak formal dalam penyusunan materi di perguruan tinggi karena struktur narasi sederhana, pemakaian kalimat dan kosakata sehari-hari, dan isi cerita yang tidak ada kaitan dengan materi formal yang dibahas dan dikerjakan dalam tugas atau ujian. Tujuan penelitian ini adalah untuk menganalisis alasan, keuntungan, dan batasan penggunaan cerita rakyat dan dongeng sebagai materi yang patut diperhitungkan oleh para pendidik tingkat perguruan tinggi untuk penguatan pendidikan karakter. Penelitian ini merupakan kajian pustaka dengan menggunakan teknik analisis wacana. Sumber data utama berupa kumpulan pustaka berupa artikel hasil eksperimen, wacana atau gagasan tertulis dalam artikel, dan hasil pemaparan ide lewat seminar tentang cerita rakyat pada pelajaran bahasa Inggris di perguruan tinggi. Pengumpulan data dengan teknik pembacaan teks. Data yang terkumpul dianalisis dengan teknik analisis isi. Hasil penelitian menunjukkan bahwa cerita rakyat tidak hanya dapat dipakai dalam pelajaran budi pekerti dan perkembangan karakter, tetapi juga bermanfaat untuk pembelajaran bahasa Inggirs dalam konteks pendidikan formal di perguruan tinggi. Kesadaran akan konten naratif khusus budaya dan nilai moral dalam setiap cerita lokal atau internasional dapat membantu mahasiswa perguruan tinggi untuk penguatan karakternya.Kata Kunci: cerita rakyat, perguruan tinggi, pendidikan karakter, pengajaran bahasa asing.STRENGTHENING CHARACTER EDUCATION THROUGH FOLKSTALES IN ENGLISH LESSONS IN HIGHER EDUCATION Abstract: Folktales and fairy tales are considered informal material in the preparation of material in higher education because of the simple narrative structure, daily use of sentences and vocabulary, and story content that has no connection with formal material that is discussed and worked on in assignments or examinations. The purpose of this research paper is to analyze the reasons, advantages, and limitations of using folktales and fairy tales as material that should be taken into college-level educators to strengthen character education. This research is a literature study using discourse analysis techniques. The main data source in the form of a collection of literature in the form of articles of experimental results, discourse or ideas written in the article, and the results of the presentation of ideas through seminars about folktale in English lessons in college. Data were collected by text reading techniques. The collected data ware analyzed using content analysis techniques. The results showed that folkltales can not only be used in the lessons of character building and character development, but also beneficial for English language learning in the context of formal education in higher education. Awareness of specific cultural narrative content and moral values in any local or international story can help college students to strengthen their character.Keywords: folktales, higher education, character education, foreign language teaching

Considering a sociocultural perspective, the role of language in the teaching and learning process in Chemistry goes beyond a simple vehicle for the transfer of information, such as names of substances, laboratory glassware and formulas. This new reading of the role of language in the process of teaching and learning is anchored in Vygostsky's studies, which emphasizes the importance of the social and cultural nature of mental activities. The Tomasello's ideas can clarify the discussion about cultural processes at the origin of language acquisition. For this discussion, in the form of a theoretical essay, from contemporary readings of these authors, some approximations between their ideas are established, highlighting some implications on language in the teaching and learning process in Chemistry, such as: i) students need to participate in their own acquisition of the scientific language; (ii) this acquisition is not through memorization, but through problematization, and (iii) teachers must recognize how students are perceiving that language and not simply consider it as already acquired. However, this debate on the new role of language must be investigated by researchers in the field, since in addition to the difficulties pointed out in this essay, the nominalization process and the grammatical metaphor, for example, are important sources of difficulties found in the acquisition of scientific language.Resumo A partir de uma perspectiva sociocultural, o papel da linguagem no processo de ensino e aprendizagem em Química ultrapassa a característica de um simples veículo para a transferência de informações, como por exemplo, nomes de substâncias, vidrarias de laboratório e fórmulas. Neste contexto, o papel da linguagem no processo de ensino e aprendizagem baseado nos estudos de Vigostski ressalta a importância da natureza social e cultural das atividades mentais. E, a inserção das ideias de Tomasello enriquece a discussão dos processos culturais no desenvolvimento da aquisição da linguagem. Para essa discussão, em forma de ensaio teórico, a partir de leituras contemporâneas desses autores, são estabelecidas algumas aproximações entre suas ideias. A apresentação dessas semelhanças permite clarear o entendimento dos professores acerca do novo papel da linguagem, além de enfatizar implicações importantes relacionadas ao processo de ensino e aprendizagem em Química, tais como: i) os estudantes precisam participar de sua própria aquisição da linguagem científica; ii) essa aquisição pode ser mais efetiva pela problematização, e não pela memorização e, iii) os professores devem reconhecer como os estudantes estão percebendo essa linguagem, e não, simplesmente, considerá-la como já adquirida. No entanto, esse debate sobre o novo papel da linguagem deve seguir adiante pelos pesquisadores da área, visto que, além das dificuldades apontadas neste ensaio, há de se considerar que, o processo de nominalização e a metáfora gramatical, por exemplo, são fontes importantes de dificuldades para a aquisição da linguagem científica.ResumenDesde de una perspectiva sociocultural, el papel del lenguaje en el proceso de enseñanza y aprendizaje en Química excede la característica de un vehículo para la transferencia de informaciones, como por ejemplo nombres de sustancias, vidriería de laboratorio y fórmulas. En este contexto, el papel del lenguaje en el proceso de enseñanza y aprendizaje se ancla en los estudios de Vygostsky, que resalta la importancia de la naturaleza social y cultural de las actividades mentales. Y la inserción de las ideas de Tomasello enriquece la discusión de los procesos culturales en el desarrollo de la adquisición del lenguaje. Para esta discusión, en forma de ensayo teórico, a partir de lecturas contemporáneas de esos autores, se establecen algunas aproximaciones entre sus ideas. La presentación de estas semejanzas permite clarificar el entendimiento de los profesores acerca del nuevo papel del lenguaje, además de enfatizar implicaciones importantes relacionadas al proceso de enseñanza y aprendizaje en Química, tales como: i) los estudiantes necesitan participar de su propia adquisición del lenguaje científico; ii) esa adquisición puede ser más efectiva por la problematización, no por la memorización y, iii) los profesores deben reconocer cómo los estudiantes están percibiendo ese lenguaje, y no, simplemente, considerarla como ya adquirida. Sin embargo, este debate sobre el nuevo papel del lenguaje debe seguir adelante por investigadores del área de Educación, ya que, además de las dificultades señaladas en este ensayo, hay que considerar que el proceso de nominalización y la metáfora gramatical, por ejemplo, son fuentes importantes de dificultades para la adquisición del lenguaje científico.Keywords: Sociocultural perspective, Chemistry Education, Language.Palabras clave: Perspectiva sociocultural, Educación Química, Lenguaje.Palavras-chave: Abordagem sociocultural, Educação em Química, Linguagem.ReferencesÁLLAN, S.; Souza, C. B. A. O modelo de Tomasello sobre a evolução cognitivo-linguística humana. Psicologia: Teoria e Pesquisa, v. 25, n. 2, p. 161-168, 2009.CHILDS, P. E.; MARKIC, S.; RYAN, M. C. The role of language in the teaching and learning of Chemistry. In: GARCÍA-MARTÍNEZ, J.; SERRANO-TORREGROSA, E. (Eds.). Chemistry Education: Best Practices, Opportunities and Trends. Weinheim: Wiley-VCH Verlag GmbH & Co, 2015. Cap. 17. p. 421-445.DRIVER, R.; ASOKO, H.; LEACH, J.; MORTIMER, E.; Scott, P. Constructing scientific knowledge in the classroom. Educational Researcher, v. 23, n. 7, p. 5-12, 1994.HALLIDAY, M.A.K. Some grammatical problems in scientific English. In: Halliday, M. A. K.; MARTIN, J. R. Writing science. London: Falmer Press, 1993.HODSON, D. Teaching and learning science: towards a personalized approach. Berkshire, UK: Open University Press, 1998.JACOB, C. Interdependent operations in chemical language and practice. HYLE–International Journal for Philosophy of Chemistry, v. 7, n. 1, p. 31-50, 2001.KOKKOTAS, Panagiotis V.; RIZAKI, Aikaterini A. Does history of science contribute to the construction of knowledge in the constructivist environments of learning? In: KOKKOTAS, Panagiotis V.; MALAMITZA, Katerina S.; RIZAKI, Aikaterini A. (Eds.). Adapting historical knowledge production to the classroom. Rotterdam: Sense Publishers, 2011. Cap. 5, p. 61-84.LABINGER, Jay A.; WEININGER, Stephen J. Controversy in chemistry: how do you prove a negative? – The cases of Phlogiston and Cold Fusion. Angewandte Chemie International Edition, v. 44, p. 1916-1922, 2005.MARKIC, S.; CHILDS, P. E. How to deal with linguistic issues in chemistry classes. In: Eilks, I.; Hofstein, A. (Eds). Teaching chemistry: a study book. Rotterdam: Sense Publishers, 2013. Cap. 5. p 127-152.MARKIC, S.; CHILDS, P. E. Language and teaching and learning of chemistry. Chemistry Education Research and Practice, v. 17, p. 434-438, 2016.MORTIMER, E. F. Construtivismo, mudança conceitual e ensino de Ciências: para onde vamos? Investigações em Ensino de Ciências, v. 1, n. 1, p. 20-39, 1996.MORTIMER, E. F.; SCOTT, P. Atividade discursiva nas salas de aula de Ciências: uma ferramenta sociocultural para analisar e planejar o ensino. Investigações em Ensino de Ciências, v .7, n. 3, p. 283-306, 2002.MORTIMER, E. F. Linguagem e formação de conceitos no ensino de Ciências. Belo Horizonte: Editora UFMG, 2011. 373 p.MORTIMER, E. F.; SCOTT, p.; EL-HANI, C. N. Bases teóricas e epistemológicas da abordagem dos perfis conceituais. Tecné, Episteme y Didaxis, n. 30, p. 111-125, 2011.MORTIMER, E. F.; EL-HANI, C. N. Uma visão sócio-interacionista e situada dos conceitos e a internalização em Vygotsky. In: IX ENCONTRO NACIONAL DE PESQUISA EM EDUCAÇÃO EM CIÊNCIAS, 2013, Águas de Lindóia. Anais... São Paulo: IX ENPEC, 2013. p. 1-9.PEREIRA, A. P. Distribuição conceitual no Ensino de Física Quântica: uma aproximação sociocultural às teorias de mudança conceitual. 2012. 210f. Tese (Doutorado em Ensino de Física) – Instituto de Física, Universidade Federal do Rio Grande do Sul, Porto Alegre, Rio Grande do Sul, 2012.TABER, K. S. Exploring the language(s) of chemistry education. Chemistry Education Research and Practice, v. 16, p. 193-197, 2015.TOMASELLO, M. Origens culturais da aquisição do conhecimento humano. Martins Fontes: São Paulo, 2003.VIGOTSKI, L. S. A formação social da mente: o desenvolvimento dos processos psicológicos superiores. 5. ed. São Paulo: Martins Fontes, 1994.VYGOTSKY, L. S. The genesis of higher mental functions. In: WERTSCH, J. V. (Ed.). The concept of activity in Soviet psychology, Armonk, NY: Sharpe, 1931/1981. p. 144-188.WELLS, G. Learning and teaching “scientific concepts”: Vygotsky’s ideas revisited. Conference, “Vygotsky and the Human Sciences”, Moscow, Sept. 1994.WERTSCH, J. V. Vygotsky y la formacion social de la mente. Barcelona: Ediciones Paidós, 1988.WOCH, J. The language of chemistry: A study of English chemical vocabulary. Beyond Philology, v. 12, p. 77-108, 2015.

Este artigo fundamenta-se teoricamente à Linguística Sistêmico-funcional de Halliday (2014) e à Pedagogia de Gêneros (Martin; Rose, 2008, 2012) e tem como objetivo apresentar a implementação do Ciclo de Aprendizagem com alunos do sexto ano do Ensino Fundamental em uma escola da rede pública. Buscou-se, dessa forma, evidenciar possíveis formas de aprendizagem explícita do gênero notícias, bem como a escrita autônoma de textos. A metodologia aplicada é estabelecida pelo Ciclo de Aprendizagem com alunos que frequentam o turno inverso para um projeto de letramento, oferecido por uma professora da rede municipal. Apresenta-se a análise da produção de um aluno e discute-se a influência da implementação do Ciclo no letramento dos alunos envolvidos. Ah duvido – O que são lendas urbanas. Disponível em: http://ahduvido.com.br/50-lendasurbanas. Acesso em: 11 abr 2016BRASIL. Ministério da Educação/Diretoria de Avaliação da Educação Básica (DAEB). Brasil no PISA 2015. Sumário Executivo, Brasília, DF, 2016BERNSTEIN, B. The structuring of pedagogic discourse. Routledge, 1990.BERNSTEIN, B. Pedagogy, symbolic control, and identity: Theory, research, critique. Rowman & Littlefield, 2000.BUTT, D.; FAHEY, R.; SPINKS, S. & ALLOP, C. Using Functional. Grammar: An Explorer's Guide. NationaL. Centre for English Language Teaching and Research, Sidney: Claredon Printing, 2003.EGGINS, S. Introduction to systemic functional linguistics. New York/London: Continuum. 2014.GOUVEIA, C. A. M. Compreensão leitora como base instrumental do ensino da produção escrita. In: SILVA, W. R.; SANTOS, J. S.; MELO, M. A. (org.), Pesquisas em Língua(gem) e demandas do ensino básico. Campinas, Pontes Editores, p. 203-231, 2014HALLIDAY, M. A. K. An introduction to functional grammar. 5a ed. Revisada por MATTHIESSEN, C. M. I. M. London: Edward Arnold, 2014.HALLIDAY, M. A. K.; An introduction to functional grammar. 2ª ed. London E. Arnold, 1994.HALLIDAY, M. A. K. Language as social semiotics. 1978.HALLIDAY, M. A. K.; HASAN, R. Language, context, and text: Aspects of language in a social-semiotic perspective. 1989.MARTIN, J. R. Grammar meets genre: Reflections on the “Sydney School”. Arts: the journal of the Sydney University Arts Association, 22, 47-95, 2000.MARTIN, J. R.; ROSE, D. Learning to write, reading to learn: Genre, knowledge and pedagogy in the Sydney School. Equinox, 2012.MARTIN, J. R.; ROSE, D. Genre relations: Mapping culture. Equinox, 2008PAINTER, C. Into the Mother Tongue: a case study of early language development, London, 1984.ROSE, D. Genre, knowledge and pedagogy in the ‘Sydney School’ David Rose Artemeva, N & A Freedman (Eds.) 2015 Trends and traditions in genre studies. Alberta, Canada: Inkshed, 2015a.ROSE, D. New developments in genre-based literacy pedagogy David Rose In C A. MacArthur,S Graham, J Fitzgerald [Eds.] 2015 Handbook of Writing Research, 2nd Edition. New York: Guilford, 2015cROSE, D. Analysing pedagogic discourse: an approach from genre and register. Functional Linguistics, 2014. Disponível em https://www.readingtolearn.com.au/wpcontent/uploads/2016/01/Analysing-pedagogic-iscourse.pdf>. Disponível em 21 abr 2020.ROTHERY, J. Making changes: developing an educational linguistics. Hasan & Williams. 1996, p. 86-123.WHITE P. R. R. Telling Media Tales: The News Story as Rhetoric. Unpublished PhD thesis, University of Sydney. 1998.

LANGUAGE NOTE | Document text in Chinese; abstract also in English. 本活躍於民間的目連戲，進入清宮，已產生變化，演出時不以中元節爲主，亦不偏重於超渡亡魂，並省略許多民間信仰複雜的禁忌與儀式。《勸善金科》演於歲暮，具有“代古人行儺祓”之性質，若就其編演之意義與目的，則可析分爲二：其一，在政治作用方面，張照秉持著王化觀再造《勸善金科》，乃欲藉由目連戲這類勸善懲惡、宣揚因果報應的載體，達到“人文化成”的效益，清廷甚至將之視作一部能演的善書，務使觀者能忠君愛國、隨順不逆。其二，在宗教作用方面，因該劇爲替代宮儺而演，故劇中的跳靈官與扮仙，別具特殊的宗教儀式意義，這兩種小戲，一反常態，已被容納於內容情節之中，且主題思想與全劇也是一脈相承，不可任意獨立或剔除，此爲相當特別的現象。 This essay is a study of a Qing-dynasty palace Mulian play, Zhang Zhao’s The Golden Rule for Guiding to Good, with a focus on the political and religious functions of its script. The investigation found that the plays featuring the story of Mulian, originally a repertoire of popular tales for common people, underwent some changes when they were introduced to the Qing palace. These plays were not merely performed on the Hungry Ghost festival, as transcendence of the souls of the dead was no longer the only function of these plays. Moreover, many complicated taboos and rituals in folk beliefs were also omitted. The Golden Rule for Guiding to Good was performed at the end of the year as a means for “lustrating and exorcising evils on behalf of ancient people.” The significance and purpose of writing and performing this opera can be summed up in two points. The first is its political function. Zhang Zhao recreated The Golden Rule for Guiding to Good in accordance with the teaching principle of the monarch and used the Mulian play as a means to exhort people to good and punish evil in order to advocate the retribution karmic cycle and to achieve the effect of “educating people with humanity-based virtues.” The Qing palace even regarded the play script as a book of benevolence that could be acted out to educate the audience about loyalty and obedience to the monarch and empire without engaging in rebellion. The second is a religious function. As this opera was played in place of some palace rituals, the role-play of the numinous and the one of immortals in the opera had unique significance in religious rituals. These two small plays were exceptionally included in the plots, and their themes were also closely related to the whole opera and could not be arbitrarily isolated or removed. This was a very special phenomenon.

05–486Balnaves, Edmund (U of Sydney, Australia; ejb@it.usyd.edu.au), Systematic approaches to long term digital collection management. Literary and Linguistic Computing (Oxford, UK) 20.4 (2005), 399–413.05–487Barwell, Graham (U of Wollongong, Australia; gbarwell@uow.edu.au), Original, authentic, copy: conceptual issues in digital texts. Literary and Linguistic Computing (Oxford, UK) 20.4 (2005), 415–424.05–488Beech, John R. & Kate A. Mayall (U of Leicester, UK; JRB@Leicester.ac.uk), The word shape hypothesis re-examined: evidence for an external feature advantage in visual word recognition. Journal of Research in Reading (Oxford, UK) 28.3 (2005), 302–319.05–489Belcher, Diane (Georgia State U, USA; dbelcher1@gsu.edu) & Alan Hirvela, Writing the qualitative dissertation: what motivates and sustains commitment to a fuzzy genre?Journal of English for Academic Purposes (Amsterdam, the Netherlands) 4.3 (2005), 187–205.05–490Bernhardt, Elisabeth (U of Minnesota, USA; ebernhar@stanford.edu), Progress and procrastination in second language reading. Annual Review of Applied Linguistics (Cambridge, UK) 25 (2005), 133–150.05–491Bishop, Dorothy (U of Oxford, UK; dorothy.bishop@psy.ox.ac.uk), Caroline Adams, Annukka Lehtonen & Stuart Rosen, Effectiveness of computerised spelling training in children with language impairments: a comparison of modified and unmodified speech input. Journal of Research in Reading (Oxford, UK) 28.2 (2005), 144–157.05–492Bowey, Judith A., Michaela McGuigan & Annette Ruschena (U of Queensland, Australia; j.bowey@psy.uq.edu.au), On the association between serial naming speed for letters and digits and word-reading skill: towards a developmental account. Journal of Research in Reading (Oxford, UK) 28.4 (2005), 400–422.05–493Bowyer-Crane, Claudine & Margaret J. Snowling (U of York, UK; c.crane@psych.york.ac.uk), Assessing children's inference generation: what do tests of reading comprehension measure?British Journal of Educational Psychology (Leicester, UK) 75.2 (2005), 189–201.05–494Bruce, Ian (U of Waikato, Hamilton, New Zealand; ibruce@waikato.ac.nz), Syllabus design for general EAP writing courses: a cognitive approach. Journal of English for Academic Purposes (Amsterdam, the Netherlands) 4.3 (2005), 239–256.05–495Burrows, John (U of Newcastle, Australia; john.burrows@netcentral.com.au), Who wroteShamela? Verifying the authorship of a parodic text. Literary and Linguistic Computing (Oxford, UK) 20.4 (2005), 437–450.05–496Clarke, Paula, Charles Hulme & Margaret Snowling (U of York, UK; CH1@york.ac.uk), Individual differences in RAN and reading: a response timing analysis. Journal of Research in Reading (Oxford, UK) 28.2 (2005), 73–86.05–497Colledge, Marion (Metropolitan U, London, UK; m.colledge@londonmet.ac.uk), Baby Bear or Mrs Bear? Young English Bengali-speaking children's responses to narrative picture books at school. Literacy (Oxford, UK) 39.1 (2005), 24–30.05–498De Pew, Kevin Eric (Old Dominion U, Norfolk, USA; Kdepew@odu.edu) & Susan Kay Miller, Studying L2 writers' digital writing: an argument for post-critical methods. Computers and Composition (Amsterdam, the Netherlands) 22.3 (2005), 259–278.05–499Dekydtspotter, Laurent (Indiana U, USA; ldekydts@indiana.edu) & Samantha D. Outcalt, A syntactic bias in scope ambiguity resolution in the processing of English French cardinality interrogatives: evidence for informational encapsulation. Language Learning (Malden, MA, USA) 55.1 (2005), 1–36.05–500Fernández Toledo, Piedad (Universidad de Murcia, Spain; piedad@um.es), Genre analysis and reading of English as a foreign language: genre schemata beyond text typologies. Journal of Pragmatics37.7 (2005), 1059–1079.05–501French, Gary (Chukyo U, Japan; french@lets.chukyo-u.ac.jp), The cline of errors in the writing of Japanese university students. World Englishes (Oxford, UK) 24.3 (2005), 371–382.05–502Green, Chris (Hong Kong Polytechnic U, Hong Kong, China), Profiles of strategic expertise in second language reading. Hong Kong Journal of Applied Linguistics (Hong Kong, China) 9.2 (2004), 1–16.05–503Groom, Nicholas (U of Birmingham, UK; nick@nicholasgroom.fsnet.co.uk), Pattern and meaning across genres and disciplines: an exploratory study. Journal of English for Academic Purposes (Amsterdam, the Netherlands) 4.3 (2005), 257–277.05–504Harris, Pauline & Barbara McKenzie (U of Wollongong, Australia; pharris@uow.edu.au), Networking aroundThe Waterholeand other tales: the importance of relationships among texts for reading and related instruction. Literacy (Oxford, UK) 39.1 (2005), 31–37.05–505Harrison, Allyson G. & Eva Nichols (Queen's U, Canada; harrisna@post.queensu.ca), A validation of the Dyslexia Adult Screening Test (DAST) in a post-secondary population. Journal of Research in Reading (Oxford, UK) 28.4 (2005), 423–434.05–506Hirvela, Alan (Ohio State U, USA; hirvela.1@osu.edu), Computer-based reading and writing across the curriculum: two case studies of L2 writers. Computers and Composition (Amsterdam, the Netherlands) 22.3 (2005), 337–356.05–507Holdom, Shoshannah (Oxford U, UK; shoshannah.holdom@oucs.ox.ac.uk), E-journal proliferation in emerging economies: the case of Latin America. Literary and Linguistic Computing (Oxford, UK) 20.3 (2005), 351–365.05–508Hopper, Rosemary (U of Exeter, UK; r.hopper@ex.ac.uk), What are teenagers reading? Adolescent fiction reading habits and reading choices. Literacy (Oxford, UK) 39.3 (2005), 113–120.05–509Jarman, Ruth & Billy McClune (Queen's U, Northern Ireland; r.jarman@qub.ac.uk), Space Science News: Special Edition, a resource for extending reading and promoting engagement with newspapers in the science classroom. Literacy (Oxford, UK) 39.3 (2005), 121–128.05–510Jia-ling Charlene Yau (Ming Chuan U, Taiwan; jyau@mcu.edu.tw), Two Mandarin readers in Taiwan: characteristics of children with higher and lower reading proficiency levels. Journal of Research in Reading (Oxford, UK) 28.2 (2005), 108–124.05–511Justice, Laura M, Lori Skibbel, Andrea Canning & Chris Lankford (U of Virginia, USA; ljustice@virginia.edu), Pre-schoolers, print and storybooks: an observational study using eye movement analysis. Journal of Research in Reading (Oxford, UK) 28.3 (2005), 229–243.05–512Kelly, Alison (Roehampton U, UK; a.m.kelly@roehampton.ac.uk), ‘Poetry? Of course we do it. It's in the National Curriculum.’ Primary children's perceptions of poetry. Literacy (Oxford, UK) 39.3 (2005), 129–134.05–513Kern, Richard (U of California, Berkeley, USA; rkern@berkeley.edu) & Jean Marie Schultz, Beyond orality: investigating literacy and the literary in second and foreign language instruction. The Modern Language Journal (Malden, MA, USA) 89.3 (2005), 381–392.05–514Kispal, Anne (National Foundation for Educational Research, UK; a.kispal@nfer.ac.uk), Examining England's National Curriculum assessments: an analysis of the KS2 reading test questions, 1993–2004. Literacy (Oxford, UK) 39.3 (2005), 149–157.05–515Kriss, Isla & Bruce J. W. Evans (Institute of Optometry, London, UK), The relationship between dyslexia and Meares-Irlen Syndrome. Journal of Research in Reading (Oxford, UK) 28.3 (2005), 350–364.05–516Lavidor, Michal & Peter J. Bailey (U of Hull, UK; M.Lavidor@hull.ac.uk), Dissociations between serial position and number of letters effects in lateralised visual word recognition. Journal of Research in Reading (Oxford, UK) 28.3 (2005), 258–273.05–517Lee, Sy-ying (Taipei, Taiwan, China; syying.lee@msa.hinet.net), Facilitating and inhibiting factors in English as a foreign language writing performance: a model testing with structural equation modelling. Language Learning (Malden, MA, USA) 55.2 (2005), 335–374.05–518Leppänen, Ulla, Kaisa Aunola & Jari-Erik Nurmi (U of Jyväskylä, Finland; uleppane@psyka.jyu.fi), Beginning readers' reading performance and reading habits. Journal of Research in Reading (Oxford, UK) 28.4 (2005), 383–399.05–519Lingard, Tony (Newquay, Cornwall, UK; tonylingard@awled.co.uk), Literacy Acceleration and the Key Stage 3 English strategy–comparing two approaches for secondary-age pupils with literacy difficulties. British Journal of Special Education32.2, 67–77.05–520Liu, Meihua (Tsinghua U, China; ellenlmh@yahoo.com) & George Braine, Cohesive features in argumentative writing produced by Chinese undergraduates. System (Amsterdam, the Netherlands) 33.4 (2005), 623–636.05–521Masterson, Jackie, Veronica Laxon, Emma Carnegie, Sheila Wright & Janice Horslen (U of Essex; mastj@essex.ac.uk), Nonword recall and phonemic discrimination in four- to six-year-old children. Journal of Research in Reading (Oxford, UK) 28.2 (2005), 183–201.05–522Merttens, Ruth & Catherine Robertson (Hamilton Reading Project, Oxford, UK; ruthmerttens@onetel.net.uk), Rhyme and Ritual: a new approach to teaching children to read and write. Literacy (Oxford, UK) 39.1 (2005), 18–23.05–523Min Wang (U of Maryland, USA; minwang@umd.edu) & Keiko Koda, Commonalities and differences in word identification skills among learners of English as a Second Language. Language Learning (Malden, MA, USA) 55.1 (2005), 71–98.05–524O'Brien, Beth A., J. Stephen Mansfield & Gordon E. Legge (Tufts U, Medford, USA; beth.obrien@tufts.edu), The effect of print size on reading speed in dyslexia. Journal of Research in Reading (Oxford, UK) 28.3 (2005), 332–349.05–525Pisanski Peterlin, Agnes (U of Ljubljana, Slovenia; agnes.pisanski@guest.arnes.si), Text-organising metatext in research articles: an English–Slovene contrastive analysis. English for Specific Purposes (Amsterdam, the Netherlands) 24.3 (2005), 307–319.05–526Rilling, Sarah (Kent State U, Kent, USA; srilling@kent.edu), The development of an ESL OWL, or learning how to tutor writing online. Computers and Composition (Amsterdam, the Netherlands) 22.3 (2005), 357–374.05–527Schacter, John & Jo Booil (Milken Family Foundation, Santa Monica, USA; schacter@sbcglobal.net), Learning when school is not in session: a reading summer day-camp intervention to improve the achievement of exiting First-Grade students who are economically disadvantaged. Journal of Research in Reading (Oxford, UK) 28.2 (2005), 158–169.05–528Shapira, Anat (Gordon College of Education, Israel) & Rachel Hertz-Lazarowitz, Opening windows on Arab and Jewish children's strategies as writers. Language, Culture and Curriculum (Clevedon, UK) 18.1 (2005), 72–90.05–529Shillcock, Richard C. & Scott A. McDonald (U of Edinburgh, UK; rcs@inf.ed.ac.uk), Hemispheric division of labour in reading. Journal of Research in Reading (Oxford, UK) 28.3 (2005), 244–257.05–530Singleton, Chris & Susannah Trotter (U of Hull, UK; c.singleton@hull.ac.uk), Visual stress in adults with and without dyslexia. Journal of Research in Reading (Oxford, UK) 28.3 (2005), 365–378.05–531Spelman Miller, Kristyan (Reading U, UK; k.s.miller@reading.ac.uk), Second language writing research and pedagogy: a role for computer logging?Computers and Composition (Amsterdam, the Netherlands) 22.3 (2005), 297–317.05–532Su, Susan Shiou-mai (Chang Gung College of Technology, Taiwan, China) & Huei-mei Chu, Motivations in the code-switching of nursing notes in EFL Taiwan. Hong Kong Journal of Applied Linguistics (Hong Kong, China) 9.2 (2004), 55–71.05–533Taillefer, Gail (Toulouse U, France; gail.taillefer@univ-tlse1.fr), Reading for academic purposes: the literacy practices of British, French and Spanish Law and Economics students as background for study abroad. Journal of Research in Reading (Oxford, UK) 28.4 (2005), 435–451.05–534Tardy, Christine M. (DePaul U, Chicago, USA; ctardy@depaul.edu), Expressions of disciplinarity and individuality in a multimodal genre. Computers and Composition (Amsterdam, the Netherlands) 22.3 (2005), 319–336.05–535Thatcher, Barry (New Mexico State U, USA; bathatch@nmsu.edu), Situating L2 writing in global communication technologies. Computers and Composition (Amsterdam, the Netherlands) 22.3 (2005), 279–295.05–536Topping, Keith & Nancy Ferguson (U of Dundee, UK; k.j.topping@dundee.ac.uk), Effective literacy teaching behaviours. Journal of Research in Reading (Oxford, UK) 28.2 (2005), 125–143.05–537Torgerson, Carole (U of York, UK; cjt3@york.ac.uk), Jill Porthouse & Greg Brooks, A systematic review of controlled trials evaluating interventions in adult literacy and numeracy. Journal of Research in Reading (Oxford, UK) 28.2 (2005), 87–107.05–538Willett, Rebekah (U of London, UK; r.willett@ioe.ac.uk), ‘Baddies’ in the classroom: media education and narrative writing. Literacy (Oxford, UK) 39.3 (2005), 142–148.05–539Wood, Clara, Karen Littleton & Pav Chera (Coventry U, UK; c.wood@coventry.ac.uk), Beginning readers' use of talking books: styles of working. Literacy (Oxford, UK) 39.3 (2005), 135–141.05–540Wood, Clare (The Open U, UK; c.p.wood@open.ac.uk), Beginning readers' use of ‘talking books’ software can affect their reading strategies. Journal of Research in Reading (Oxford, UK) 28.2 (2005), 170–182.05–541Yasuda, Sachiko (Waseda U, Japan), Different activities in the same task: an activity theory approach to ESL students' writing process. JALT Journal (Tokyo, Japan) 27.2 (2005), 139–168.05–542Zelniker, Tamar (Tel-Aviv U, Israel) & Rachel Hertz-Lazarowitz, School–Family Partnership for Coexistence (SFPC) in the city of Acre: promoting Arab and Jewish parents' role as facilitators of children's literacy development and as agents of coexistence. Language, Culture and Curriculum (Clevedon, UK) 18.1 (2005), 114–138.

When Malcolm Fraser opened The Australian Captioning Centre in 1982, he emphasised the importance of changing technology in improving the provision of captions:there is always going to be new technology coming forward, there will always be better ways of doing it if you wait a while. This has been delayed a long while already and I don't believe that there is any excuse for further delay by the ABC or by commercial stations on the grounds of technology.New captioning technologies are coming forward at a rapid pace. In the time we have been preparing this issue, Facebook announced it would offer users the ability to have live videos captioned, a group of fansubbers in the Netherlands were found to be engaging in illegal activities (see Hollier et al this issue), the Australian copyright Act was amended to allow the creation of accessible versions of content to address any form of disability, and The National Center for Accessible Media in the US launched a free Caption and Description Editing Tool (CADET) following a crowd funding campaign.Captions are most often associated with making audiovisual content accessible to people who are D/deaf or hard of hearing; however, with technological advancements, people are increasingly finding mainstream benefits for captions, whether as a learning tool in education, or to capture the attention of Facebook users quickly scrolling through their news feeds, or to watch television in a crowded or noisy area such as bars and gyms. Captions have also taken on a central role in popular memes, social media, and Web-based creativity. Historically, the mainstream benefits of captions have been integral to their increasingly widespread availability (Downey). This issue of M/C seeks to investigate the changing uses of captions in media and culture.We begin with a feature article from Catherine Burwell exploring the use of captions in Al Jazeera Plus (AJ+) news videos created in response to Facebook’s autoplay feature. Analysing two recent AJ+ videos, Burwell shows how captions add new layers of meaning to the already multimodal form of the video, and how they change the way that news stories are communicated. The broader role that captions play in audience engagement, branding, and profit-making extends these textual interpretations, and the paper ends with a brief enquiry into the implications of captions for our understanding of literacy in an age of constantly shifting media.Melissa Merchant, Katie Ellis and Natalie Latter offer a historical progression of the availability of captions on television—using the cooking genre as their case study—to identify three stages of caption availability and quality. These can be broadly summarised as early yet inconsistent captions, captions becoming more widely available and accurate—often as a direct result of activism and legislation—but not yet fully verbatim, and verbatim captions as adopted within mainstream augmentative uses.Mike Kent, Katie Ellis and Gwyneth Peaty take up the shifting concept of literacy and the potential uses of mainstreaming captions to consider what happens when captioned online university lectures are made available to the entire student population. Their article reports findings of research assessing the usefulness of captioned recorded lectures as a mainstream learning tool to determine their usefulness in enhancing inclusivity and learning outcomes for the disabled, international, and broader student population.Beth Haller’s essay reflects on the Switched at Birth all American Sign Language (ASL) episode Uprising to consider what happens when captions are opened to and utilised by the majority of the population. The US cable television show Switched at Birth (2011-2017) broke new ground within mass media by hiring numerous deaf actors and allowing those actors to perform using sign language rather than vocalizing English. The show’s honouring of Deaf culture and language reflects a new openness from television executives toward integrating more people with a variety of visible and invisible physical embodiments, such as hearing loss, into television content. This article looks at the cultural inclusivity fostered by the show. Gwyneth Peaty’s article likewise considers the interplay between silence, sound, and text in the horror film Hush (2016). Within this film, deafness is utilised as a source of tension and empowerment for the main character, and offers a reworking of the ‘Final Girl’ trope in horror. Text and captioning are subtly woven into the film, and function to create character development and narrative cohesion. The use of both sound and silence in this film also convey complexities in audience and text relationships.While Haller and Peaty offer some contemporary examples of captions and reflect on the ways ASL and captioning can be used in new and innovative ways in audio visual media, Scott Hollier, Katie Ellis and Mike Kent argue commercial providers are not always meeting their legislative or best practice requirements in the provision of captions. Their paper explores an interesting mix of activism, volunteer effort, and hacking whereby Netflix users compile instructions to allow users to upload their own captions and make content accessible by essentially hacking into secret caption files in the Netflix media player. They conceive of this user-generated practice as a conflation of the hacker and the acknowledged digital influencer, but caution that copyright restrictions may drive this practice of sharing information for accessibility underground.Katy Galiardi brings together two key concerns explored throughout this issue—social justice for people with disability and the use of captions in online communication. The paper redefines Facebook comments as a form of cultural captioning to explore critiques and examples of what disability activists describe as inspiration porn. The paper offers critique and analysis of the ways comments on an Autism Speaks Facebook post about a young man with autism fit the inspiration porn narrative. Through quantitative and qualitative analyses of comments on this post, this paper argues language use and over-disclosure are two contributing factors to the discrimination inherent within inspiration porn.Nicole Erin Morse also considers the role of captions in social media but with a focus on Instagram. Within social media visibility campaigns, selfie captions usually work to produce coherent identity categories, linking disparate selfies together through hashtags. Furthering visibility politics, such selfie captions claim that authentic identities can be made visible through selfies and can be described and defined by these captions. However, selfie captions by the trans-artist Alok Vaid-Menon challenge the assumption that selfies and their captions can make authentic identity legible. Through hashtags, emojis, and punning text, Vaid-Menon’s selfie captions interrogate visibility politics from within one of visibility politics most popular contemporary tools, demonstrating how social media can be used to theorise representation.The final paper in this issue by Katie Ellis, Mike Kent and Kathryn Locke explores a discrepancy between the provision of captions and audio description on Australian broadcast television and video on demand. While audio description as a technology, like captions, was developed in the 1960s, it remains largely absent from current Australian television. In the current media climate of multiple platform and content delivery options, it was envisaged that television would become more accessible. However, despite multiple audio description trials on both broadcast and catch-up television, and an increase in political and advocate attention, the availability of audio description is still nowhere near the level of captions.“To caption” is to take, catch, seize, capture, subtitle, title, and/or translate. The articles collected in this issue demonstrate the increasing potential of captions to augment communication and highlight a range of emerging issues, practices, and focal points. The use of captions as a vital accessibility feature for people who are D/deaf or hard of hearing is acknowledged throughout all of the papers. The role of captions in activist efforts of people with disability is also emphasised—from criticisms of inspiration porn, to hacking the back end of Netflix, to recent calls to raise the importance of audio description to the level of captions in the Australian Broadcasting Act (1992). The mainstream use of captions to augment visual imagery, memes, television, and video is also recognised throughout this issue as a vital tool for expression, identity formation, and personalised learning styles. Collectively, these articles demonstrate the changing uses of captions in media and culture, examining the ways they are also increasingly used by larger portions of the population.AcknowledgmentsThe editors acknowledge the support of the Curtin University Teaching Excellence Development Fund in the development of this issue. We also offer our sincerest thanks to the referees who shared their time and insight and particularly those who were also contributors. ReferencesDowney, Greg. “Constructing Closed-Captioning in the Public Interest: From Minority Media Accessibility to Mainstream Educational Technology.” Info 9.2–3 (2007): 69–82.Fraser, Malcolm. “Address at the Opening of the Caption Centre Sydney.” PM Transcripts 13 Sep. 1982. 14 June 2017 <http://pmtranscripts.pmc.gov.au/release/transcript-5907>.

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>.

IntroductionThis article suggests extensions to the place of ‘national collections’ of Australia’s migration histories, and considers the role of regional libraries and museums in collecting, preserving, and making accessible the history of migration. The article describes a recent collaboration between the Bonegilla Migrant Experience site, the Albury LibraryMuseum and the regionally-based Charles Sturt University (CSU) to develop a virtual, three-dimensional tour of Bonegilla, a former migrant arrival centre. Through this, the role of regional collections as keeping places of migration memories and narratives outside of those institutions charged with preserving the nation’s memory is highlighted and explored.What Makes a Nation’s Memory?In 2018 the Australian Research Council (ARC) awarded a Linkage grant to a collaboration between two universities (RMIT and Deakin), and the National Library of Australia, State Library of South Australia, State Library of Victoria, and State Library of New South Wales titled “Representing Multicultural Australia in National and State Libraries” (LP170100222). This Linkage project aimed to “develop a new methodology for evaluating multicultural collections, and new policies and strategies to develop and provide access to these collections” (RMIT Centre for Urban Research).One planned output of the Linkage project was a conference, to be held in early 2019, titled “Collecting for a Society’s Memory: National and State Libraries in Culturally Diverse Societies.” The conference call for papers suggested themes that included an interrogation of the relationship between libraries and ‘the collecting sector’, but with a focus still on National and State Libraries (Boyd). As an aside, the correlation between libraries and memories seemed slightly incongruous here, as archives and museums in particular would also be key in this collecting (and preserving) society’s memory, and also the libraries that exist outside of the national and state capitals.It felt like the project and conference had a definite ‘national’ focus, with the ‘regional’ mentioned only briefly in a suggested theme.At the same time that I was reading this call for papers and about the Linkage, I was part of a CSU Learning and Teaching project to develop online learning materials for students in our Teacher Education programs (history in particular) based around the Bonegilla Migrant Arrival Centre in Wodonga, Victoria. This project uses three-dimensional film technology to bring students to the Centre site, where they can take an interactive, curriculum-based tour of the site. Alongside the interactive online tour, a series of curricula were developed to work with the Australian History Curriculum. I wondered why community-led collections like these in the regions fall to the side in discussions of a ‘national’ (aka institutional) memory, or as part of a representation of a multicultural Australia, such as in this Linkage.Before I start exploring this question I want to acknowledge the limitations of the ARC Linkage framework in terms of the project mentioned above, and that the work that is being done in the “Representing Multicultural Australia in National and State Libraries” project is of value to professional practice and community; in this article I am using the juxtaposition of the two projects as an impetus to interrogate the role of regional collaboration, and to argue for a notion of national memory as a regional collecting concern.Bonegilla: A Contested SiteFrom 1947 through to 1971 over 300,000 migrants to Australia passed through the Bonegilla Migrant Reception and Training Centre (“Bonegilla”) at a defining time in Australia’s immigration history, as post-World War II migration policies encompassed non-English speaking Europeans displaced by the war (Pennay "Remembering Bonegilla" 43). Bonegilla itself is a small settlement near the Hume Dam, 10 km from the New South Wales town of Albury and the Victorian town of Wodonga. Bonegilla was a former Army Camp repurposed to meet the settlement agendas of multiple Australian governments.New migrants spent weeks and months at Bonegilla, learning English, and securing work. The site was the largest (covering 130 hectares of land) and longest-lasting reception centre in post-war Australia, and has been confirmed bureaucratically as nationally significant, having been added to the National Heritage Register in 2007 (see Pennay “Remembering Bonegilla” for an in-depth discussion of this listing process). Bonegilla has played a part in defining and redefining Australia’s migrant and multicultural history through the years, with Bruce Pennay suggesting thatperhaps Bonegilla has warranted national notice as part of an officially initiated endeavour to develop a more inclusive narrative of nation, for the National Heritage List was almost contemporaneously expanded to include Myall Creek. Perhaps it is exemplary in raising questions about the roles of the nation and the community in reception and training that morph into modern day equivalents. (“Memories and Representations” 46)Given its national significance, both formally and colloquially, Bonegilla has provided rich material for critical thinking around, for example, Australian multicultural identity, migration commemorations and the construction of cultural memory. Alexandra Dellios argues that Bonegilla and its role in Australia’s memory is a contested site, and thatdespite criticisms from historians such as Persian and Ashton regarding Bonegilla’s adherence to a revisionist narrative of multicultural progress, visitor book comments, as well as exchanges and performances at reunions and festivals, demonstrate that visitors take what they will from available frameworks, and fill in the ‘gaps’ according to their own collective memories, needs and expectations. (1075)This recognition of Bonegilla as a significant, albeit “heritage noir” (Pennay, “Memories and Representations” 48), agent of Australia’s heritage and memory makes it a productive site to investigate the question of regional collections and collaborations in constructing a national memory.Recordkeeping: By Government and CommunityThe past decade has seen a growth in the prominence of community archives as places of memory for communities (for example Flinn; Flinn, Stevens, and Shepherd; Zavala et al.). This prominence has come through the recognition of community archives as both valid sites of study as well as repositories of memory. In turn, this body of knowledge has offered new ways to think about collection practices outside of the mainstream, where “communities can make collective decisions about what is of enduring value to them, shape collective memory of their own pasts, and control the means through which stories about their past are constructed” (Caswell, Cifor, and Ramirez 58). Jimmy Zavala, and colleagues, argue that these collections “challenge hierarchical structures of governance found in mainstream archival institutions” (212), and offer different perspectives to those kept on the official record. By recognising both the official record and the collections developed and developing outside of official repositories, there are opportunities to deepen understandings and interpretations of historical moments in time.There are at least three possible formal keeping places of memories for those who passed through, worked at, or lived alongside Bonegilla: the National Archives of Australia, the Albury LibraryMuseum in Albury, New South Wales, and the Bonegilla Migrant Experience site itself outside of Wodonga. There will of course be records in other national, state, local, and community repositories, along with newspaper articles, people’s homes, and oral lore that contribute to the narrative of Bonegilla memories, but the focus for this article are these three key sites as the main sources of primary source material about the Bonegilla experience.Official administrative and organisational records of activity during Bonegilla’s reception period are held at the National Archives of Australia in the national capital, Canberra; these records contribute to the memory of Bonegilla from a nation-state perspective, building an administrative record of the Centre’s history and of a significant period of migration in Australia’s past. Of note, Bonegilla was the only migrant centre that created its own records on site, and these records form part of the series known as NAA: A2567, NAA A2571 1949–56 and A2572 1957–71 (Hutchison 70). Records of local staff employed at the site will also be included in these administrative files. Very few of these records are publicly accessible online, although work is underway to provide enhanced online and analogue access to the popular arrival cards (NAA A2571 1949-56 and A2572 1957–71) onsite at Bonegilla (Pennay, personal communication) as they are in high demand by visitors to the site, who are often looking for traces of themselves or their families in the official record. The National Archives site Destination Australia is an example of an attempt by the holder of these administrative records to collect personal stories of this period in Australia’s history through an online photograph gallery and story register, but by 2019 less than 150 stories have been published to the site, which was launched in 2014 (National Archives of Australia).This national collection is complemented and enhanced by the Bonegilla Migration Collection at the Albury LibraryMuseum in southern New South Wales, which holds non-government records and memories of life at Bonegilla. This collection “contains over 20 sustained interviews; 357 personal history database entries; over 500 short memory pieces and 700 photographs” (Pennay “Memories and Representations” 45). It is a ‘live’ collection, growing through contributions to the Bonegilla Personal History Register by the migrants and others who experienced the Centre, and through an ongoing relationship with the current Bonegilla Migrant Experience site to act as a collection home for their materials.Alongside the collection in the LibraryMuseum, there is the collection of infrastructure at the Bonegilla Migrant Experience (BME) site itself. These buildings and other assets, and indeed the absence of buildings, plus the interpretative material developed by BME staff, give further depth and meaning to the lived experience of post-war migration to Australia. Whilst both of these collections are housed and managed by local government agencies, I suggest in this article that these collections can still be considered community archives, given the regional setting of the collections, and the community created records included in the collections.The choice to locate Bonegilla in a fairly isolated regional setting was a strategy of the governments of the time (Persian), and in turn has had an impact on how the site is accessed; by who, and how often (see Dellios for a discussion of the visitor numbers over the history of the Bonegilla Migrant Experience over its time as a commemorative and tourist site). The closest cities to Bonegilla, Albury and Wodonga, sit on the border of New South Wales and Victoria, separated by the Murray River and located 300 km from Melbourne and 550 km from Sydney. The ‘twin towns’ work collaboratively on many civic activities, and are an example of a 1970s-era regional development project that in the twenty-first century is still growing, despite the regional setting (Stein 345).This regional setting justifies a consideration of virtual, and online access to what some argue is a site of national memory loaded with place-based connections, with Jayne Persian arguing that “the most successful forays into commemoration of Bonegilla appear to be website-based and institution-led” (81). This sentiment is reflected in the motivation to create further online access points to Bonegilla, such as the one discussed in this article.Enhancing Teaching, Learning, and Public Access to CollectionsIn 2018 these concepts of significant heritage sites, community archives, national records, and an understanding of migration history came together in a regionally-based Teaching and Learning project funded through a CSU internal grant scheme. The scheme, designed to support scholarship and enhance learning and teaching at CSU, funded a small pilot project to pilot a virtual visit to a real-life destination: the Bonegilla Migrant Experience site. The project was designed to provide key teaching and learning material for students in CSU Education courses, and those training to teach history in particular, but also enhance virtual access to the site for the wider public.The project was developed as a partnership between CSU, Albury LibraryMuseum, and Bonegilla Migrant Experience, and formalised through a Memorandum of Understanding with shared intellectual property. The virtual visit includes a three-dimensional walkthrough created using Matterport software, intuitive navigation of the walkthrough, and four embedded videos linked with online investigation guides. The site is intended to help online visitors ‘do history’ by locating and evaluating sources related to a heritage site with many layers and voices, and whose narrative and history is contested and told through many lenses (Grover and Pennay).As you walk through the virtual site, you get a sense of the size and scope of the Migrant Arrival Centre. The current Bonegilla Migrant Experience site sits at Block 19, one of 24 blocks that formed part of the Centre in its peak time. The guiding path takes you through the Reception area and then to the ‘Beginning Place’, a purpose built interpretative structure that “introduces why people came to Australia searching for a new beginning” (Bonegilla site guide). Moving through, you pass markers on the walls and other surfaces that link through to further interpretative materials and investigation guides. These guides are designed to introduce K-10 students and their teachers to practices such as exploring online archives and thematic inquiry learning aligned to the Australian History Curriculum. Each guide is accompanied by teacher support material and further classroom activities.The guides prompt and guide visitors through an investigation of online archives, and other repositories, including sourcing files held by the National Archives of Australia, searching for newspaper accounts of controversial events through the National Library of Australia’s digital repository Trove, and access to personal testimonies of migrants and refugees through the Albury LibraryMuseum Bonegilla Migration Collection. Whilst designed to support teachers and students engaging with the Australian History Curriculum, these resources are available to the public. They provide visitors to the virtual site an opportunity to develop their own critical digital literacy skills and further their understanding of the official records along with the community created records such as those held by the Albury LibraryMuseum.The project partnership developed from existing relationships between cultural heritage professionals in the Albury Wodonga region along with new relationships developed for technology support from local companies. The project also reinforced the role of CSU, with its regional footprint, in being able to connect and activate regionally-based projects for community benefit along with teaching and learning outcomes.Regional CollaborationsLiz Bishoff argues for a “collaboration imperative” when it comes to the galleries, libraries, archives, and museums (GLAM) sector’s efficacy, and it is the collaborative nature of this project that I draw on in this article. Previous work has also suggested models of convergence, where multiple institutions in the GLAM sector become a single institution (Warren and Matthews 3). In fact the Albury LibraryMuseum is an example of this model. These converged models have been critiqued from resourcing, professionalisation and economic perspectives (see for example Jones; Hider et al.; Wellington), but in some cases for local government agencies especially, they are an effective way of delivering services to communities (Warren and Matthews 9). In the case of this virtual tour, the collaboration between local government and university agencies was temporal for the length of the project, where the pooling of skills, resources, and networks has enabled the development of the resource.In this project, the regional setting has allowed and taken advantage of an intimacy that I argue may not have been possible in a metropolitan or urban setting. The social intimacies of regional town living mean that jobs are often ‘for a long time (if not for life)’, lives intersect in more than a professional context, and that because there are few pathways or options for alternative work opportunities in the GLAM professions, there is a vested interest in progress and success in project-based work. The relationships that underpinned the Bonegilla virtual tour project reflect many of these social intimacies, which included former students, former colleagues, and family relationships.The project has modelled future strategies for collaboration, including open discussions about intellectual property created, the auspicing of financial arrangements and the shared professional skills and knowledge. There has been a significant enhancement of collaborative partnerships between stakeholders, along with further development of professional and personal networks.National Memories: Regional ConcernsThe focus of this article has been on records created about a significant period in Australia’s migration history, and the meaning that these records hold based on who created them, where they are held, and how they are accessed and interpreted. Using the case study of the development of a virtual tour of a significant site—Bonegilla—I have highlighted the value of regional, non-national collections in providing access to and understanding of national memories, and the importance of collaborative practice to working with these collections. These collections sit physically in the regional communities of Albury and Wodonga, along with at the National Archives of Australia in Canberra, where they are cared for by professional staff across the GLAM sector and accessed both physically and virtually by students, researchers, and those whose lives intersected with Bonegilla.From this, I argue that by understanding national and institutional recordkeeping spaces such as the National Archives of Australia as just one example of a place of ‘national memory’, we can make space for regional and community-based repositories as important and valuable sources of records about the lived experience of migration. Extending this further, I suggest a recognition of the role of the regional setting in enabling strong collaborations to make these records visible and accessible.Further research in this area could include exploring the possibility of giving meaning to the place of record creation, especially community records, and oral histories, and how collaborations are enabling this. In contrast to this question, I also suggest an exploration of the role of the Commonwealth staff who created the records during the period of Bonegilla’s existence, and their social and cultural history, to give more meaning and context to the setting of the currently held records.ReferencesBishoff, Liz. “The Collaboration Imperative.” Library Journal 129.1 (2004): 34–35.Boyd, Jodie. “Call for Papers: Collecting for a Society’s Memory: National and State Libraries in Culturally Diverse Societies.” 2018. 1 Apr. 2019 <https://networks.h-net.org/node/73374/announcements/2079324/collecting-society%E2%80%99s-memory-national-and-state-libraries>.Caswell, Michelle, Marika Cifor, and Mario H. Ramirez. “‘To Suddenly Discover Yourself Existing': Uncovering the Impact of Community Archives.” The American Archivist 79.1 (2016): 56–81.Dellios, Alexandra. “Marginal or Mainstream? Migrant Centres as Grassroots and Official Heritage.” International Journal of Heritage Studies 21.10 (2015): 1068–83.Flinn, Andrew. “Community Histories, Community Archives: Some Opportunities and Challenges.” Journal of the Society of Archivists 28.2 (2007): 151–76.Flinn, Andrew, Mary Stevens, and Elizabeth Shepherd. “Whose Memories, Whose Archives? Independent Community Archives, Autonomy and the Mainstream.” Archival Science 9.1–2 (2009): 71.Grover, Paul, and Bruce Pennay. “Learning & Teaching Grant Progress Report.” Albury Wodonga: Charles Sturt U, 2019.Hider, Philip, Mary Anne Kennan, Mary Carroll, and Jessie Lymn. “Exploring Potential Barriers to Lam Synergies in the Academy: Institutional Locations and Publishing Outlets.” The Expanding LIS Education Universe (2018): 104.Hutchison, Mary. “Accommodating Strangers: Commonwealth Government Records of Bonegilla and Other Migrant Accommodation Centres.” Public History Review 11 (2004): 63–79.Jones, Michael. “Innovation Study: Challenges and Opportunities for Australia’s Galleries, Libraries, Archives and Museums.” Archives & Manuscripts 43.2 (2015): 149–51.National Archives of Australia. “Snakes in the Laundry... and Other Horrors”. Canberra, 29 May 2014. <http://www.naa.gov.au/about-us/media/media-releases/2014/25.aspx>.Pennay, Bruce. “‘But No One Can Say He Was Hungry’: Memories and Representations of Bonegilla Reception and Training Centre.” History Australia 9.1 (2012): 43–63.———. “Remembering Bonegilla: The Construction of a Public Memory Place at Block 19.” Public History Review 16 (2009): 43–63.Persian, Jayne. “Bonegilla: A Failed Narrative.” History Australia 9.1 (2012): 64–83.RMIT Centre for Urban Research. “Representing Multicultural Australia in National and State Libraries”. 2018. 11 Feb. 2019 <http://cur.org.au/project/representing-multicultural-australia-national-state-libraries/>.Stein, Clara. “The Growth and Development of Albury-Wodonga 1972–2006: United and Divided.” Macquarie U, 2012.Warren, Emily, and Graham Matthews. “Public Libraries, Museums and Physical Convergence: Context, Issues, Opportunities: A Literature Review Part 1.” Journal of Librarianship and Information Science (2018): 1–14.Wellington, Shannon. “Building Glamour: Converging Practice between Gallery, Library, Archive and Museum Entities in New Zealand Memory Institutions.” Wellington: Victoria U, 2013.Zavala, Jimmy, Alda Allina Migoni, Michelle Caswell, Noah Geraci, and Marika Cifor. “‘A Process Where We’re All at the Table’: Community Archives Challenging Dominant Modes of Archival Practice.” Archives and Manuscripts 45.3 (2017): 202–15.

Introduction Crime fiction is one of the world’s most popular genres. Indeed, it has been estimated that as many as one in every three new novels, published in English, is classified within the crime fiction category (Knight xi). These new entrants to the market are forced to jostle for space on bookstore and library shelves with reprints of classic crime novels; such works placed in, often fierce, competition against their contemporaries as well as many of their predecessors. Raymond Chandler, in his well-known essay The Simple Art of Murder, noted Ernest Hemingway’s observation that “the good writer competes only with the dead. The good detective story writer […] competes not only with all the unburied dead but with all the hosts of the living as well” (3). In fact, there are so many examples of crime fiction works that, as early as the 1920s, one of the original ‘Queens of Crime’, Dorothy L. Sayers, complained: It is impossible to keep track of all the detective-stories produced to-day [sic]. Book upon book, magazine upon magazine pour out from the Press, crammed with murders, thefts, arsons, frauds, conspiracies, problems, puzzles, mysteries, thrills, maniacs, crooks, poisoners, forgers, garrotters, police, spies, secret-service men, detectives, until it seems that half the world must be engaged in setting riddles for the other half to solve (95). Twenty years after Sayers wrote on the matter of the vast quantities of crime fiction available, W.H. Auden wrote one of the more famous essays on the genre: The Guilty Vicarage: Notes on the Detective Story, by an Addict. Auden is, perhaps, better known as a poet but his connection to the crime fiction genre is undisputed. As well as his poetic works that reference crime fiction and commentaries on crime fiction, one of Auden’s fellow poets, Cecil Day-Lewis, wrote a series of crime fiction novels under the pseudonym Nicholas Blake: the central protagonist of these novels, Nigel Strangeways, was modelled upon Auden (Scaggs 27). Interestingly, some writers whose names are now synonymous with the genre, such as Edgar Allan Poe and Raymond Chandler, established the link between poetry and crime fiction many years before the publication of The Guilty Vicarage. Edmund Wilson suggested that “reading detective stories is simply a kind of vice that, for silliness and minor harmfulness, ranks somewhere between crossword puzzles and smoking” (395). In the first line of The Guilty Vicarage, Auden supports Wilson’s claim and confesses that: “For me, as for many others, the reading of detective stories is an addiction like tobacco or alcohol” (406). This indicates that the genre is at best a trivial pursuit, at worst a pursuit that is bad for your health and is, increasingly, socially unacceptable, while Auden’s ideas around taste—high and low—are made clear when he declares that “detective stories have nothing to do with works of art” (406). The debates that surround genre and taste are many and varied. The mid-1920s was a point in time which had witnessed crime fiction writers produce some of the finest examples of fiction to ever be published and when readers and publishers were watching, with anticipation, as a new generation of crime fiction writers were readying themselves to enter what would become known as the genre’s Golden Age. At this time, R. Austin Freeman wrote that: By the critic and the professedly literary person the detective story is apt to be dismissed contemptuously as outside the pale of literature, to be conceived of as a type of work produced by half-educated and wholly incompetent writers for consumption by office boys, factory girls, and other persons devoid of culture and literary taste (7). This article responds to Auden’s essay and explores how crime fiction appeals to many different tastes: tastes that are acquired, change over time, are embraced, or kept as guilty secrets. In addition, this article will challenge Auden’s very narrow definition of crime fiction and suggest how Auden’s religious imagery, deployed to explain why many people choose to read crime fiction, can be incorporated into a broader popular discourse on punishment. This latter argument demonstrates that a taste for crime fiction and a taste for justice are inextricably intertwined. Crime Fiction: A Type For Every Taste Cathy Cole has observed that “crime novels are housed in their own section in many bookshops, separated from literary novels much as you’d keep a child with measles away from the rest of the class” (116). Times have changed. So too, have our tastes. Crime fiction, once sequestered in corners, now demands vast tracts of prime real estate in bookstores allowing readers to “make their way to the appropriate shelves, and begin to browse […] sorting through a wide variety of very different types of novels” (Malmgren 115). This is a result of the sheer size of the genre, noted above, as well as the genre’s expanding scope. Indeed, those who worked to re-invent crime fiction in the 1800s could not have envisaged the “taxonomic exuberance” (Derrida 206) of the writers who have defined crime fiction sub-genres, as well as how readers would respond by not only wanting to read crime fiction but also wanting to read many different types of crime fiction tailored to their particular tastes. To understand the demand for this diversity, it is important to reflect upon some of the appeal factors of crime fiction for readers. Many rules have been promulgated for the writers of crime fiction to follow. Ronald Knox produced a set of 10 rules in 1928. These included Rule 3 “Not more than one secret room or passage is allowable”, and Rule 10 “Twin brothers, and doubles generally, must not appear unless we have been duly prepared for them” (194–6). In the same year, S.S. Van Dine produced another list of 20 rules, which included Rule 3 “There must be no love interest: The business in hand is to bring a criminal to the bar of justice, not to bring a lovelorn couple to the hymeneal altar”, and Rule 7 “There simply must be a corpse in a detective novel, and the deader the corpse the better” (189–93). Some of these directives have been deliberately ignored or have become out-of-date over time while others continue to be followed in contemporary crime writing practice. In sharp contrast, there are no rules for reading this genre. Individuals are, generally, free to choose what, where, when, why, and how they read crime fiction. There are, however, different appeal factors for readers. The most common of these appeal factors, often described as doorways, are story, setting, character, and language. As the following passage explains: The story doorway beckons those who enjoy reading to find out what happens next. The setting doorway opens widest for readers who enjoy being immersed in an evocation of place or time. The doorway of character is for readers who enjoy looking at the world through others’ eyes. Readers who most appreciate skilful writing enter through the doorway of language (Wyatt online). These doorways draw readers to the crime fiction genre. There are stories that allow us to easily predict what will come next or make us hold our breath until the very last page, the books that we will cheerfully lend to a family member or a friend and those that we keep close to hand to re-read again and again. There are settings as diverse as country manors, exotic locations, and familiar city streets, places we have been and others that we might want to explore. There are characters such as the accidental sleuth, the hardboiled detective, and the refined police officer, amongst many others, the men and women—complete with idiosyncrasies and flaws—who we have grown to admire and trust. There is also the language that all writers, regardless of genre, depend upon to tell their tales. In crime fiction, even the most basic task of describing where the murder victim was found can range from words that convey the genteel—“The room of the tragedy” (Christie 62)—to the absurd: “There it was, jammed between a pallet load of best export boneless beef and half a tonne of spring lamb” (Maloney 1). These appeal factors indicate why readers might choose crime fiction over another genre, or choose one type of crime fiction over another. Yet such factors fail to explain what crime fiction is or adequately answer why the genre is devoured in such vast quantities. Firstly, crime fiction stories are those in which there is the committing of a crime, or at least the suspicion of a crime (Cole), and the story that unfolds revolves around the efforts of an amateur or professional detective to solve that crime (Scaggs). Secondly, crime fiction offers the reassurance of resolution, a guarantee that from “previous experience and from certain cultural conventions associated with this genre that ultimately the mystery will be fully explained” (Zunshine 122). For Auden, the definition of the crime novel was quite specific, and he argued that referring to the genre by “the vulgar definition, ‘a Whodunit’ is correct” (407). Auden went on to offer a basic formula stating that: “a murder occurs; many are suspected; all but one suspect, who is the murderer, are eliminated; the murderer is arrested or dies” (407). The idea of a formula is certainly a useful one, particularly when production demands—in terms of both quality and quantity—are so high, because the formula facilitates creators in the “rapid and efficient production of new works” (Cawelti 9). For contemporary crime fiction readers, the doorways to reading, discussed briefly above, have been cast wide open. Stories relying upon the basic crime fiction formula as a foundation can be gothic tales, clue puzzles, forensic procedurals, spy thrillers, hardboiled narratives, or violent crime narratives, amongst many others. The settings can be quiet villages or busy metropolises, landscapes that readers actually inhabit or that provide a form of affordable tourism. These stories can be set in the past, the here and now, or the future. Characters can range from Edgar Allan Poe’s C. Auguste Dupin to Dashiell Hammett’s Sam Spade, from Agatha Christie’s Miss Jane Marple to Kerry Greenwood’s Honourable Phryne Fisher. Similarly, language can come in numerous styles from the direct (even rough) words of Carter Brown to the literary prose of Peter Temple. Anything is possible, meaning everything is available to readers. For Auden—although he required a crime to be committed and expected that crime to be resolved—these doorways were only slightly ajar. For him, the story had to be a Whodunit; the setting had to be rural England, though a college setting was also considered suitable; the characters had to be “eccentric (aesthetically interesting individuals) and good (instinctively ethical)” and there needed to be a “completely satisfactory detective” (Sherlock Holmes, Inspector French, and Father Brown were identified as “satisfactory”); and the language descriptive and detailed (406, 409, 408). To illustrate this point, Auden’s concept of crime fiction has been plotted on a taxonomy, below, that traces the genre’s main developments over a period of three centuries. As can be seen, much of what is, today, taken for granted as being classified as crime fiction is completely excluded from Auden’s ideal. Figure 1: Taxonomy of Crime Fiction (Adapted from Franks, Murder 136) Crime Fiction: A Personal Journey I discovered crime fiction the summer before I started high school when I saw the film version of The Big Sleep starring Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall. A few days after I had seen the film I started reading the Raymond Chandler novel of the same title, featuring his famous detective Philip Marlowe, and was transfixed by the second paragraph: The main hallway of the Sternwood place was two stories high. Over the entrance doors, which would have let in a troop of Indian elephants, there was a broad stained-glass panel showing a knight in dark armour rescuing a lady who was tied to a tree and didn’t have any clothes on but some very long and convenient hair. The knight had pushed the visor of his helmet back to be sociable, and he was fiddling with the knots on the ropes that tied the lady to the tree and not getting anywhere. I stood there and thought that if I lived in the house, I would sooner or later have to climb up there and help him. He didn’t seem to be really trying (9). John Scaggs has written that this passage indicates Marlowe is an idealised figure, a knight of romance rewritten onto the mean streets of mid-20th century Los Angeles (62); a relocation Susan Roland calls a “secular form of the divinely sanctioned knight errant on a quest for metaphysical justice” (139): my kind of guy. Like many young people I looked for adventure and escape in books, a search that was realised with Raymond Chandler and his contemporaries. On the escapism scale, these men with their stories of tough-talking detectives taking on murderers and other criminals, law enforcement officers, and the occasional femme fatale, were certainly a sharp upgrade from C.S. Lewis and the Chronicles of Narnia. After reading the works written by the pioneers of the hardboiled and roman noir traditions, I looked to other American authors such as Edgar Allan Poe who, in the mid-1800s, became the father of the modern detective story, and Thorne Smith who, in the 1920s and 1930s, produced magical realist tales with characters who often chose to dabble on the wrong side of the law. This led me to the works of British crime writers including Arthur Conan Doyle, Agatha Christie, and Dorothy L. Sayers. My personal library then became dominated by Australian writers of crime fiction, from the stories of bushrangers and convicts of the Colonial era to contemporary tales of police and private investigators. There have been various attempts to “improve” or “refine” my tastes: to convince me that serious literature is real reading and frivolous fiction is merely a distraction. Certainly, the reading of those novels, often described as classics, provide perfect combinations of beauty and brilliance. Their narratives, however, do not often result in satisfactory endings. This routinely frustrates me because, while I understand the philosophical frameworks that many writers operate within, I believe the characters of such works are too often treated unfairly in the final pages. For example, at the end of Ernest Hemingway’s A Farewell to Arms, Frederick Henry “left the hospital and walked back to the hotel in the rain” after his son is stillborn and “Mrs Henry” becomes “very ill” and dies (292–93). Another example can be found on the last page of George Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four when Winston Smith “gazed up at the enormous face” and he realised that he “loved Big Brother” (311). Endings such as these provide a space for reflection about the world around us but rarely spark an immediate response of how great that world is to live in (Franks Motive). The subject matter of crime fiction does not easily facilitate fairy-tale finishes, yet, people continue to read the genre because, generally, the concluding chapter will show that justice, of some form, will be done. Punishment will be meted out to the ‘bad characters’ that have broken society’s moral or legal laws; the ‘good characters’ may experience hardships and may suffer but they will, generally, prevail. Crime Fiction: A Taste For Justice Superimposed upon Auden’s parameters around crime fiction, are his ideas of the law in the real world and how such laws are interwoven with the Christian-based system of ethics. This can be seen in Auden’s listing of three classes of crime: “(a) offenses against God and one’s neighbor or neighbors; (b) offenses against God and society; (c) offenses against God” (407). Murder, in Auden’s opinion, is a class (b) offense: for the crime fiction novel, the society reflected within the story should be one in “a state of grace, i.e., a society where there is no need of the law, no contradiction between the aesthetic individual and the ethical universal, and where murder, therefore, is the unheard-of act which precipitates a crisis” (408). Additionally, in the crime novel “as in its mirror image, the Quest for the Grail, maps (the ritual of space) and timetables (the ritual of time) are desirable. Nature should reflect its human inhabitants, i.e., it should be the Great Good Place; for the more Eden-like it is, the greater the contradiction of murder” (408). Thus, as Charles J. Rzepka notes, “according to W.H. Auden, the ‘classical’ English detective story typically re-enacts rites of scapegoating and expulsion that affirm the innocence of a community of good people supposedly ignorant of evil” (12). This premise—of good versus evil—supports Auden’s claim that the punishment of wrongdoers, particularly those who claim the “right to be omnipotent” and commit murder (409), should be swift and final: As to the murderer’s end, of the three alternatives—execution, suicide, and madness—the first is preferable; for if he commits suicide he refuses to repent, and if he goes mad he cannot repent, but if he does not repent society cannot forgive. Execution, on the other hand, is the act of atonement by which the murderer is forgiven by society (409). The unilateral endorsement of state-sanctioned murder is problematic, however, because—of the main justifications for punishment: retribution; deterrence; incapacitation; and rehabilitation (Carter Snead 1245)—punishment, in this context, focuses exclusively upon retribution and deterrence, incapacitation is achieved by default, but the idea of rehabilitation is completely ignored. This, in turn, ignores how the reading of crime fiction can be incorporated into a broader popular discourse on punishment and how a taste for crime fiction and a taste for justice are inextricably intertwined. One of the ways to explore the connection between crime fiction and justice is through the lens of Emile Durkheim’s thesis on the conscience collective which proposes punishment is a process allowing for the demonstration of group norms and the strengthening of moral boundaries. David Garland, in summarising this thesis, states: So although the modern state has a near monopoly of penal violence and controls the administration of penalties, a much wider population feels itself to be involved in the process of punishment, and supplies the context of social support and valorization within which state punishment takes place (32). It is claimed here that this “much wider population” connecting with the task of punishment can be taken further. Crime fiction, above all other forms of literary production, which, for those who do not directly contribute to the maintenance of their respective legal systems, facilitates a feeling of active participation in the penalising of a variety of perpetrators: from the issuing of fines to incarceration (Franks Punishment). Crime fiction readers are therefore, temporarily at least, direct contributors to a more stable society: one that is clearly based upon right and wrong and reliant upon the conscience collective to maintain and reaffirm order. In this context, the reader is no longer alone, with only their crime fiction novel for company, but has become an active member of “a moral framework which binds individuals to each other and to its conventions and institutions” (Garland 51). This allows crime fiction, once viewed as a “vice” (Wilson 395) or an “addiction” (Auden 406), to be seen as playing a crucial role in the preservation of social mores. It has been argued “only the most literal of literary minds would dispute the claim that fictional characters help shape the way we think of ourselves, and hence help us articulate more clearly what it means to be human” (Galgut 190). Crime fiction focuses on what it means to be human, and how complex humans are, because stories of murders, and the men and women who perpetrate and solve them, comment on what drives some people to take a life and others to avenge that life which is lost and, by extension, engages with a broad community of readers around ideas of justice and punishment. It is, furthermore, argued here that the idea of the story is one of the more important doorways for crime fiction and, more specifically, the conclusions that these stories, traditionally, offer. For Auden, the ending should be one of restoration of the spirit, as he suspected that “the typical reader of detective stories is, like myself, a person who suffers from a sense of sin” (411). In this way, the “phantasy, then, which the detective story addict indulges is the phantasy of being restored to the Garden of Eden, to a state of innocence, where he may know love as love and not as the law” (412), indicating that it was not necessarily an accident that “the detective story has flourished most in predominantly Protestant countries” (408). Today, modern crime fiction is a “broad church, where talented authors raise questions and cast light on a variety of societal and other issues through the prism of an exciting, page-turning story” (Sisterson). Moreover, our tastes in crime fiction have been tempered by a growing fear of real crime, particularly murder, “a crime of unique horror” (Hitchens 200). This has seen some readers develop a taste for crime fiction that is not produced within a framework of ecclesiastical faith but is rather grounded in reliance upon those who enact punishment in both the fictional and real worlds. As P.D. James has written: [N]ot by luck or divine intervention, but by human ingenuity, human intelligence and human courage. It confirms our hope that, despite some evidence to the contrary, we live in a beneficent and moral universe in which problems can be solved by rational means and peace and order restored from communal or personal disruption and chaos (174). Dorothy L. Sayers, despite her work to legitimise crime fiction, wrote that there: “certainly does seem a possibility that the detective story will some time come to an end, simply because the public will have learnt all the tricks” (108). Of course, many readers have “learnt all the tricks”, or most of them. This does not, however, detract from the genre’s overall appeal. We have not grown bored with, or become tired of, the formula that revolves around good and evil, and justice and punishment. Quite the opposite. Our knowledge of, as well as our faith in, the genre’s “tricks” gives a level of confidence to readers who are looking for endings that punish murderers and other wrongdoers, allowing for more satisfactory conclusions than the, rather depressing, ends given to Mr. Henry and Mr. Smith by Ernest Hemingway and George Orwell noted above. Conclusion For some, the popularity of crime fiction is a curious case indeed. When Penguin and Collins published the Marsh Million—100,000 copies each of 10 Ngaio Marsh titles in 1949—the author’s relief at the success of the project was palpable when she commented that “it was pleasant to find detective fiction being discussed as a tolerable form of reading by people whose opinion one valued” (172). More recently, upon the announcement that a Miles Franklin Award would be given to Peter Temple for his crime novel Truth, John Sutherland, a former chairman of the judges for one of the world’s most famous literary awards, suggested that submitting a crime novel for the Booker Prize would be: “like putting a donkey into the Grand National”. Much like art, fashion, food, and home furnishings or any one of the innumerable fields of activity and endeavour that are subject to opinion, there will always be those within the world of fiction who claim positions as arbiters of taste. Yet reading is intensely personal. I like a strong, well-plotted story, appreciate a carefully researched setting, and can admire elegant language, but if a character is too difficult to embrace—if I find I cannot make an emotional connection, if I find myself ambivalent about their fate—then a book is discarded as not being to my taste. It is also important to recognise that some tastes are transient. Crime fiction stories that are popular today could be forgotten tomorrow. Some stories appeal to such a broad range of tastes they are immediately included in the crime fiction canon. Yet others evolve over time to accommodate widespread changes in taste (an excellent example of this can be seen in the continual re-imagining of the stories of Sherlock Holmes). Personal tastes also adapt to our experiences and our surroundings. A book that someone adores in their 20s might be dismissed in their 40s. A storyline that was meaningful when read abroad may lose some of its magic when read at home. Personal events, from a change in employment to the loss of a loved one, can also impact upon what we want to read. Similarly, world events, such as economic crises and military conflicts, can also influence our reading preferences. Auden professed an almost insatiable appetite for crime fiction, describing the reading of detective stories as an addiction, and listed a very specific set of criteria to define the Whodunit. Today, such self-imposed restrictions are rare as, while there are many rules for writing crime fiction, there are no rules for reading this (or any other) genre. People are, generally, free to choose what, where, when, why, and how they read crime fiction, and to follow the deliberate or whimsical paths that their tastes may lay down for them. Crime fiction writers, past and present, offer: an incredible array of detective stories from the locked room to the clue puzzle; settings that range from the English country estate to city skyscrapers in glamorous locations around the world; numerous characters from cerebral sleuths who can solve a crime in their living room over a nice, hot cup of tea to weapon wielding heroes who track down villains on foot in darkened alleyways; and, language that ranges from the cultured conversations from the novels of the genre’s Golden Age to the hard-hitting terminology of forensic and legal procedurals. Overlaid on these appeal factors is the capacity of crime fiction to feed a taste for justice: to engage, vicariously at least, in the establishment of a more stable society. Of course, there are those who turn to the genre for a temporary distraction, an occasional guilty pleasure. There are those who stumble across the genre by accident or deliberately seek it out. There are also those, like Auden, who are addicted to crime fiction. So there are corpses for the conservative and dead bodies for the bloodthirsty. There is, indeed, a murder victim, and a murder story, to suit every reader’s taste. References Auden, W.H. “The Guilty Vicarage: Notes on The Detective Story, By an Addict.” Harper’s Magazine May (1948): 406–12. 1 Dec. 2013 ‹http://www.harpers.org/archive/1948/05/0033206›. Carter Snead, O. “Memory and Punishment.” Vanderbilt Law Review 64.4 (2011): 1195–264. Cawelti, John G. Adventure, Mystery and Romance: Formula Stories as Art and Popular Culture. Chicago: U of Chicago P, 1976/1977. Chandler, Raymond. The Big Sleep. London: Penguin, 1939/1970. ––. The Simple Art of Murder. New York: Vintage Books, 1950/1988. Christie, Agatha. The Mysterious Affair at Styles. London: HarperCollins, 1920/2007. Cole, Cathy. Private Dicks and Feisty Chicks: An Interrogation of Crime Fiction. Fremantle: Curtin UP, 2004. Derrida, Jacques. “The Law of Genre.” Glyph 7 (1980): 202–32. Franks, Rachel. “May I Suggest Murder?: An Overview of Crime Fiction for Readers’ Advisory Services Staff.” Australian Library Journal 60.2 (2011): 133–43. ––. “Motive for Murder: Reading Crime Fiction.” The Australian Library and Information Association Biennial Conference. Sydney: Jul. 2012. ––. “Punishment by the Book: Delivering and Evading Punishment in Crime Fiction.” Inter-Disciplinary.Net 3rd Global Conference on Punishment. Oxford: Sep. 2013. Freeman, R.A. “The Art of the Detective Story.” The Art of the Mystery Story: A Collection of Critical Essays. Ed. Howard Haycraft. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1924/1947. 7–17. Galgut, E. “Poetic Faith and Prosaic Concerns: A Defense of Suspension of Disbelief.” South African Journal of Philosophy 21.3 (2002): 190–99. Garland, David. Punishment and Modern Society: A Study in Social Theory. Chicago: U of Chicago P, 1993. Hemingway, Ernest. A Farewell to Arms. London: Random House, 1929/2004. ––. in R. Chandler. The Simple Art of Murder. New York: Vintage Books, 1950/1988. Hitchens, P. A Brief History of Crime: The Decline of Order, Justice and Liberty in England. London: Atlantic Books, 2003. James, P.D. Talking About Detective Fiction. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2009. Knight, Stephen. Crime Fiction since 1800: Death, Detection, Diversity, 2nd ed. New York: Palgrave Macmillian, 2010. Knox, Ronald A. “Club Rules: The 10 Commandments for Detective Novelists, 1928.” Ronald Knox Society of North America. 1 Dec. 2013 ‹http://www.ronaldknoxsociety.com/detective.html›. Malmgren, C.D. “Anatomy of Murder: Mystery, Detective and Crime Fiction.” Journal of Popular Culture Spring (1997): 115–21. Maloney, Shane. The Murray Whelan Trilogy: Stiff, The Brush-Off and Nice Try. Melbourne: Text Publishing, 1994/2008. Marsh, Ngaio in J. Drayton. Ngaio Marsh: Her Life in Crime. Auckland: Harper Collins, 2008. Orwell, George. Nineteen Eighty-Four. London: Penguin Books, 1949/1989. Roland, Susan. From Agatha Christie to Ruth Rendell: British Women Writers in Detective and Crime Fiction. London: Palgrave, 2001. Rzepka, Charles J. Detective Fiction. Cambridge: Polity, 2005. Sayers, Dorothy L. “The Omnibus of Crime.” The Art of the Mystery Story: A Collection of Critical Essays. Ed. Howard Haycraft. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1928/1947. 71–109. Scaggs, John. Crime Fiction: The New Critical Idiom. London: Routledge, 2005. Sisterson, C. “Battle for the Marsh: Awards 2013.” Black Mask: Pulps, Noir and News of Same. 1 Jan. 2014 http://www.blackmask.com/category/awards-2013/ Sutherland, John. in A. Flood. “Could Miles Franklin turn the Booker Prize to Crime?” The Guardian. 1 Jan. 2014 ‹http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2010/jun/25/miles-franklin-booker-prize-crime›. Van Dine, S.S. “Twenty Rules for Writing Detective Stories.” The Art of the Mystery Story: A Collection of Critical Essays. Ed. Howard Haycraft. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1928/1947. 189-93. Wilson, Edmund. “Who Cares Who Killed Roger Ackroyd.” The Art of the Mystery Story: A Collection of Critical Essays. Ed. Howard Haycraft. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1944/1947. 390–97. Wyatt, N. “Redefining RA: A RA Big Think.” Library Journal Online. 1 Jan. 2014 ‹http://lj.libraryjournal.com/2007/07/ljarchives/lj-series-redefining-ra-an-ra-big-think›. Zunshine, Lisa. Why We Read Fiction: Theory of Mind and the Novel. Columbus: Ohio State UP, 2006.

At one point in Victor Hugo’s novel, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, the archdeacon, Claude Frollo, looked up from a book on his table to the edifice of the gothic cathedral, visible from his canon’s cell in the cloister of Notre Dame: “Alas!” he said, “this will kill that” (146). Frollo’s lament, that the book would destroy the edifice, captures the medieval cleric’s anxiety about the way in which Gutenberg’s print technology would become the new universal means for recording and communicating humanity’s ideas and artistic expression, replacing the grand monuments of architecture, human engineering, and craftsmanship. For Hugo, architecture was “the great handwriting of humankind” (149). The cathedral as the material outcome of human technology was being replaced by the first great machine—the printing press. At this point in the third millennium, some people undoubtedly have similar anxieties to Frollo: is it now the book’s turn to be destroyed by yet another great machine? The inclusion of “post print” in our title is not intended to sound the death knell of the book. Rather, we contend that despite the enduring value of print, digital publishing is “present and active” and is changing the way in which research, particularly in the humanities, is being undertaken. Our approach has three related parts. First, we consider how digital technologies are changing the way in which content is constructed, customised, modified, disseminated, and accessed within a global, distributed network. This section argues that the transition from print to electronic or digital publishing means both losses and gains, particularly with respect to shifts in our approaches to textuality, information, and innovative publishing. Second, we discuss the Children’s Literature Digital Resources (CLDR) project, with which we are involved. This case study of a digitising initiative opens out the transformative possibilities and challenges of digital publishing and e-scholarship for research communities. Third, we reflect on technology’s capacity to bring about major changes in the light of the theoretical and practical issues that have arisen from our discussion. I. Digitising in a “post-print age” We are living in an era that is commonly referred to as “the late age of print” (see Kho) or the “post-print age” (see Gunkel). According to Aarseth, we have reached a point whereby nearly all of our public and personal media have become more or less digital (37). As Kho notes, web newspapers are not only becoming increasingly more popular, but they are also making rather than losing money, and paper-based newspapers are finding it difficult to recruit new readers from the younger generations (37). Not only can such online-only publications update format, content, and structure more economically than print-based publications, but their wide distribution network, speed, and flexibility attract advertising revenue. Hype and hyperbole aside, publishers are not so much discarding their legacy of print, but recognising the folly of not embracing innovative technologies that can add value by presenting information in ways that satisfy users’ needs for content to-go or for edutainment. As Kho notes: “no longer able to satisfy customer demand by producing print-only products, or even by enabling online access to semi-static content, established publishers are embracing new models for publishing, web-style” (42). Advocates of online publishing contend that the major benefits of online publishing over print technology are that it is faster, more economical, and more interactive. However, as Hovav and Gray caution, “e-publishing also involves risks, hidden costs, and trade-offs” (79). The specific focus for these authors is e-journal publishing and they contend that while cost reduction is in editing, production and distribution, if the journal is not open access, then costs relating to storage and bandwith will be transferred to the user. If we put economics aside for the moment, the transition from print to electronic text (e-text), especially with electronic literary works, brings additional considerations, particularly in their ability to make available different reading strategies to print, such as “animation, rollovers, screen design, navigation strategies, and so on” (Hayles 38). Transition from print to e-text In his book, Writing Space, David Bolter follows Victor Hugo’s lead, but does not ask if print technology will be destroyed. Rather, he argues that “the idea and ideal of the book will change: print will no longer define the organization and presentation of knowledge, as it has for the past five centuries” (2). As Hayles noted above, one significant indicator of this change, which is a consequence of the shift from analogue to digital, is the addition of graphical, audio, visual, sonic, and kinetic elements to the written word. A significant consequence of this transition is the reinvention of the book in a networked environment. Unlike the printed book, the networked book is not bound by space and time. Rather, it is an evolving entity within an ecology of readers, authors, and texts. The Web 2.0 platform has enabled more experimentation with blending of digital technology and traditional writing, particularly in the use of blogs, which have spawned blogwriting and the wikinovel. Siva Vaidhyanathan’s The Googlization of Everything: How One Company is Disrupting Culture, Commerce and Community … and Why We Should Worry is a wikinovel or blog book that was produced over a series of weeks with contributions from other bloggers (see: http://www.sivacracy.net/). Penguin Books, in collaboration with a media company, “Six Stories to Start,” have developed six stories—“We Tell Stories,” which involve different forms of interactivity from users through blog entries, Twitter text messages, an interactive google map, and other features. For example, the story titled “Fairy Tales” allows users to customise the story using their own choice of names for characters and descriptions of character traits. Each story is loosely based on a classic story and links take users to synopses of these original stories and their authors and to online purchase of the texts through the Penguin Books sales website. These examples of digital stories are a small part of the digital environment, which exploits computer and online technologies’ capacity to be interactive and immersive. As Janet Murray notes, the interactive qualities of digital environments are characterised by their procedural and participatory abilities, while their immersive qualities are characterised by their spatial and encyclopedic dimensions (71–89). These immersive and interactive qualities highlight different ways of reading texts, which entail different embodied and cognitive functions from those that reading print texts requires. As Hayles argues: the advent of electronic textuality presents us with an unparalleled opportunity to reformulate fundamental ideas about texts and, in the process, to see print as well as electronic texts with fresh eyes (89–90). The transition to e-text also highlights how digitality is changing all aspects of everyday life both inside and outside the academy. Online teaching and e-research Another aspect of the commercial arm of publishing that is impacting on academe and other organisations is the digitising and indexing of print content for niche distribution. Kho offers the example of the Mark Logic Corporation, which uses its XML content platform to repurpose content, create new content, and distribute this content through multiple portals. As the promotional website video for Mark Logic explains, academics can use this service to customise their own textbooks for students by including only articles and book chapters that are relevant to their subject. These are then organised, bound, and distributed by Mark Logic for sale to students at a cost that is generally cheaper than most textbooks. A further example of how print and digital materials can form an integrated, customised source for teachers and students is eFictions (Trimmer, Jennings, & Patterson). eFictions was one of the first print and online short story anthologies that teachers of literature could customise to their own needs. Produced as both a print text collection and a website, eFictions offers popular short stories in English by well-known traditional and contemporary writers from the US, Australia, New Zealand, UK, and Europe, with summaries, notes on literary features, author biographies, and, in one instance, a YouTube movie of the story. In using the eFictions website, teachers can build a customised anthology of traditional and innovative stories to suit their teaching preferences. These examples provide useful indicators of how content is constructed, customised, modified, disseminated, and accessed within a distributed network. However, the question remains as to how to measure their impact and outcomes within teaching and learning communities. As Harley suggests in her study on the use and users of digital resources in the humanities and social sciences, several factors warrant attention, such as personal teaching style, philosophy, and specific disciplinary requirements. However, in terms of understanding the benefits of digital resources for teaching and learning, Harley notes that few providers in her sample had developed any plans to evaluate use and users in a systematic way. In addition to the problems raised in Harley’s study, another relates to how researchers can be supported to take full advantage of digital technologies for e-research. The transformation brought about by information and communication technologies extends and broadens the impact of research, by making its outputs more discoverable and usable by other researchers, and its benefits more available to industry, governments, and the wider community. Traditional repositories of knowledge and information, such as libraries, are juggling the space demands of books and computer hardware alongside increasing reader demand for anywhere, anytime, anyplace access to information. Researchers’ expectations about online access to journals, eprints, bibliographic data, and the views of others through wikis, blogs, and associated social and information networking sites such as YouTube compete with the traditional expectations of the institutions that fund libraries for paper-based archives and book repositories. While university libraries are finding it increasingly difficult to purchase all hardcover books relevant to numerous and varied disciplines, a significant proportion of their budgets goes towards digital repositories (e.g., STORS), indexes, and other resources, such as full-text electronic specialised and multidisciplinary journal databases (e.g., Project Muse and Proquest); electronic serials; e-books; and specialised information sources through fast (online) document delivery services. An area that is becoming increasingly significant for those working in the humanities is the digitising of historical and cultural texts. II. Bringing back the dead: The CLDR project The CLDR project is led by researchers and librarians at the Queensland University of Technology, in collaboration with Deakin University, University of Sydney, and members of the AustLit team at The University of Queensland. The CLDR project is a “Research Community” of the electronic bibliographic database AustLit: The Australian Literature Resource, which is working towards the goal of providing a complete bibliographic record of the nation’s literature. AustLit offers users with a single entry point to enhanced scholarly resources on Australian writers, their works, and other aspects of Australian literary culture and activities. AustLit and its Research Communities are supported by grants from the Australian Research Council and financial and in-kind contributions from a consortium of Australian universities, and by other external funding sources such as the National Collaborative Research Infrastructure Strategy. Like other more extensive digitisation projects, such as Project Gutenberg and the Rosetta Project, the CLDR project aims to provide a centralised access point for digital surrogates of early published works of Australian children’s literature, with access pathways to existing resources. The first stage of the CLDR project is to provide access to digitised, full-text, out-of-copyright Australian children’s literature from European settlement to 1945, with selected digitised critical works relevant to the field. Texts comprise a range of genres, including poetry, drama, and narrative for young readers and picture books, songs, and rhymes for infants. Currently, a selection of 75 e-texts and digital scans of original texts from Project Gutenberg and Internet Archive have been linked to the Children’s Literature Research Community. By the end of 2009, the CLDR will have digitised approximately 1000 literary texts and a significant number of critical works. Stage II and subsequent development will involve digitisation of selected texts from 1945 onwards. A precursor to the CLDR project has been undertaken by Deakin University in collaboration with the State Library of Victoria, whereby a digital bibliographic index comprising Victorian School Readers has been completed with plans for full-text digital surrogates of a selection of these texts. These texts provide valuable insights into citizenship, identity, and values formation from the 1930s onwards. At the time of writing, the CLDR is at an early stage of development. An extensive survey of out-of-copyright texts has been completed and the digitisation of these resources is about to commence. The project plans to make rich content searchable, allowing scholars from children’s literature studies and education to benefit from the many advantages of online scholarship. What digital publishing and associated digital archives, electronic texts, hypermedia, and so forth foreground is the fact that writers, readers, publishers, programmers, designers, critics, booksellers, teachers, and copyright laws operate within a context that is highly mediated by technology. In his article on large-scale digitisation projects carried out by Cornell and University of Michigan with the Making of America collection of 19th-century American serials and monographs, Hirtle notes that when special collections’ materials are available via the Web, with appropriate metadata and software, then they can “increase use of the material, contribute to new forms of research, and attract new users to the material” (44). Furthermore, Hirtle contends that despite the poor ergonomics associated with most electronic displays and e-book readers, “people will, when given the opportunity, consult an electronic text over the print original” (46). If this preference is universally accurate, especially for researchers and students, then it follows that not only will the preference for electronic surrogates of original material increase, but preference for other kinds of electronic texts will also increase. It is with this preference for electronic resources in mind that we approached the field of children’s literature in Australia and asked questions about how future generations of researchers would prefer to work. If electronic texts become the reference of choice for primary as well as secondary sources, then it seems sensible to assume that researchers would prefer to sit at the end of the keyboard than to travel considerable distances at considerable cost to access paper-based print texts in distant libraries and archives. We considered the best means for providing access to digitised primary and secondary, full text material, and digital pathways to existing online resources, particularly an extensive indexing and bibliographic database. Prior to the commencement of the CLDR project, AustLit had already indexed an extensive number of children’s literature. Challenges and dilemmas The CLDR project, even in its early stages of development, has encountered a number of challenges and dilemmas that centre on access, copyright, economic capital, and practical aspects of digitisation, and sustainability. These issues have relevance for digital publishing and e-research. A decision is yet to be made as to whether the digital texts in CLDR will be available on open or closed/tolled access. The preference is for open access. As Hayles argues, copyright is more than a legal basis for intellectual property, as it also entails ideas about authorship, creativity, and the work as an “immaterial mental construct” that goes “beyond the paper, binding, or ink” (144). Seeking copyright permission is therefore only part of the issue. Determining how the item will be accessed is a further matter, particularly as future technologies may impact upon how a digital item is used. In the case of e-journals, the issue of copyright payment structures are evolving towards a collective licensing system, pay-per-view, and other combinations of print and electronic subscription (see Hovav and Gray). For research purposes, digitisation of items for CLDR is not simply a scan and deliver process. Rather it is one that needs to ensure that the best quality is provided and that the item is both accessible and usable by researchers, and sustainable for future researchers. Sustainability is an important consideration and provides a challenge for institutions that host projects such as CLDR. Therefore, items need to be scanned to a high quality and this requires an expensive scanner and personnel costs. Files need to be in a variety of formats for preservation purposes and so that they may be manipulated to be useable in different technologies (for example, Archival Tiff, Tiff, Jpeg, PDF, HTML). Hovav and Gray warn that when technology becomes obsolete, then content becomes unreadable unless backward integration is maintained. The CLDR items will be annotatable given AustLit’s NeAt funded project: Aus-e-Lit. The Aus-e-Lit project will extend and enhance the existing AustLit web portal with data integration and search services, empirical reporting services, collaborative annotation services, and compound object authoring, editing, and publishing services. For users to be able to get the most out of a digital item, it needs to be searchable, either through double keying or OCR (optimal character recognition). The value of CLDR’s contribution The value of the CLDR project lies in its goal to provide a comprehensive, searchable body of texts (fictional and critical) to researchers across the humanities and social sciences. Other projects seem to be intent on putting up as many items as possible to be considered as a first resort for online texts. CLDR is more specific and is not interested in simply generating a presence on the Web. Rather, it is research driven both in its design and implementation, and in its focussed outcomes of assisting academics and students primarily in their e-research endeavours. To this end, we have concentrated on the following: an extensive survey of appropriate texts; best models for file location, distribution, and use; and high standards of digitising protocols. These issues that relate to data storage, digitisation, collections, management, and end-users of data are aligned with the “Development of an Australian Research Data Strategy” outlined in An Australian e-Research Strategy and Implementation Framework (2006). CLDR is not designed to simply replicate resources, as it has a distinct focus, audience, and research potential. In addition, it looks at resources that may be forgotten or are no longer available in reproduction by current publishing companies. Thus, the aim of CLDR is to preserve both the time and a period of Australian history and literary culture. It will also provide users with an accessible repository of rare and early texts written for children. III. Future directions It is now commonplace to recognize that the Web’s role as information provider has changed over the past decade. New forms of “collective intelligence” or “distributed cognition” (Oblinger and Lombardi) are emerging within and outside formal research communities. Technology’s capacity to initiate major cultural, social, educational, economic, political and commercial shifts has conditioned us to expect the “next big thing.” We have learnt to adapt swiftly to the many challenges that online technologies have presented, and we have reaped the benefits. As the examples in this discussion have highlighted, the changes in online publishing and digitisation have provided many material, network, pedagogical, and research possibilities: we teach online units providing students with access to e-journals, e-books, and customized archives of digitised materials; we communicate via various online technologies; we attend virtual conferences; and we participate in e-research through a global, digital network. In other words, technology is deeply engrained in our everyday lives. In returning to Frollo’s concern that the book would destroy architecture, Umberto Eco offers a placatory note: “in the history of culture it has never happened that something has simply killed something else. Something has profoundly changed something else” (n. pag.). Eco’s point has relevance to our discussion of digital publishing. The transition from print to digital necessitates a profound change that impacts on the ways we read, write, and research. As we have illustrated with our case study of the CLDR project, the move to creating digitised texts of print literature needs to be considered within a dynamic network of multiple causalities, emergent technological processes, and complex negotiations through which digital texts are created, stored, disseminated, and used. Technological changes in just the past five years have, in many ways, created an expectation in the minds of people that the future is no longer some distant time from the present. Rather, as our title suggests, the future is both present and active. References Aarseth, Espen. “How we became Postdigital: From Cyberstudies to Game Studies.” Critical Cyber-culture Studies. Ed. David Silver and Adrienne Massanari. New York: New York UP, 2006. 37–46. An Australian e-Research Strategy and Implementation Framework: Final Report of the e-Research Coordinating Committee. Commonwealth of Australia, 2006. Bolter, Jay David. Writing Space: The Computer, Hypertext, and the History of Writing. Hillsdale, NJ: Erlbaum, 1991. Eco, Umberto. “The Future of the Book.” 1994. 3 June 2008 ‹http://www.themodernword.com/eco/eco_future_of_book.html>. Gunkel, David. J. “What's the Matter with Books?” Configurations 11.3 (2003): 277–303. Harley, Diane. “Use and Users of Digital Resources: A Focus on Undergraduate Education in the Humanities and Social Sciences.” Research and Occasional Papers Series. Berkeley: University of California. Centre for Studies in Higher Education. 12 June 2008 ‹http://www.themodernword.com/eco/eco_future_of_book.html>. Hayles, N. Katherine. My Mother was a Computer: Digital Subjects and Literary Texts. Chicago: U of Chicago P, 2005. Hirtle, Peter B. “The Impact of Digitization on Special Collections in Libraries.” Libraries & Culture 37.1 (2002): 42–52. Hovav, Anat and Paul Gray. “Managing Academic E-journals.” Communications of the ACM 47.4 (2004): 79–82. Hugo, Victor. The Hunchback of Notre Dame (Notre-Dame de Paris). Ware, Hertfordshire: Wordsworth editions, 1993. Kho, Nancy D. “The Medium Gets the Message: Post-Print Publishing Models.” EContent 30.6 (2007): 42–48. Oblinger, Diana and Marilyn Lombardi. “Common Knowledge: Openness in Higher Education.” Opening up Education: The Collective Advancement of Education Through Open Technology, Open Content and Open Knowledge. Ed. Toru Liyoshi and M. S. Vijay Kumar. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 2007. 389–400. Murray, Janet H. Hamlet on the Holodeck: The Future of Narrative in Cyberspace. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 2001. Trimmer, Joseph F., Wade Jennings, and Annette Patterson. eFictions. New York: Harcourt, 2001.

In 1999, the TV movie Shark Attack depicted an attack by mutant great white sharks on the population of Cape Town. By the time the third entry in the series, Shark Attack 3, aired in 2002, mutant great whites had lost their lustre and were replaced as antagonists with the megalodon: a giant shark originating not in any laboratory, but history, having lived from approximately 23 to 3.6 million years ago. The megalodon was resurrected again in May 2021 through a trifecta of events. A video of a basking shark encounter in the Atlantic went viral on the social media platform TikTok, due to users misidentifying it as a megalodon caught on tape. At the same time a boy received publicity for finding a megalodon tooth on a beach in South Carolina on his fifth birthday (Scott). And finally, the video game Stranded Deep, in which a megalodon is featured as a major enemy, was released as one of the monthly free games on the PlayStation Plus gaming service. These examples form part of a larger trend of alleged megalodon sightings in recent years, emerging as a component of the modern resurgence of cryptozoology. In the words of Bernard Heuvelmans, the Belgian zoologist who both popularised the term and was a leading figure of the field, cryptozoology is the “science of hidden animals”, which he further explained were more generally referred to as ‘unknowns’, even though they are typically known to local populations—at least sufficiently so that we often indirectly know of their existence, and certain aspects of their appearance and behaviour. It would be better to call them animals ‘undescribed by science,’ at least according to prescribed zoological rules. (1-2) In other words, a large aspect of cryptozoology as a field is taking the legendary creatures of non-Western mythology and finding materialist explanations for them compatible with Western biology. In many ways, this is a relic of the era of European imperialism, when many creatures of Africa and the Americas were “hidden animals” to European eyes (Dendle 200-01; Flores 557; Guimont). A major example of this is Bigfoot beliefs, a large subset of which took Native American legends about hairy wild men and attempted to prove that they were actually sightings of relict Gigantopithecus. These “hidden animals”—Bigfoot, Nessie, the chupacabra, the glawackus—are referred to as ‘cryptids’ by cryptozoologists (Regal 22, 81-104). Almost unique in cryptozoology, the megalodon is a cryptid based entirely on Western scientific development, and even the notion that it survives comes from standard scientific analysis (albeit analysis which was later superseded). Much like living mammoths and Bigfoot, what might be called the ‘megalodon as cryptid hypothesis’ serves to reinforce a fairy tale of its own. It reflects the desire to believe that there are still areas of the Earth untouched enough by human destruction to sustain massive animal life (Dendle 199-200). Indeed, megalodon’s continued existence would help absolve humanity for the oceanic aspect of the Sixth Extinction, by its role as an alternative apex predator; cryptozoologist Michael Goss even proposed that whales and giant squids are rare not from human causes, but precisely because megalodons are feeding on them (40). Horror scholar Michael Fuchs has pointed out that shark media, particularly the 1975 film Jaws and its 2006 video game adaptation Jaws Unleashed, are imbued with eco-politics (Fuchs 172-83). These connections, as well as the modern megalodon’s surge in popularity, make it notable that none of Syfy’s climate change-focused Sharknado films featured a megalodon. Despite the lack of a Megalodonado, the popular appeal of the megalodon serves as an important case study. Given its scientific origin and dynamic relationship with popular culture, I argue that the ‘megalodon as cryptid hypothesis’ illustrates how the boundaries between ‘hard’ science and mythology, fiction and reality, as well as ‘monster’ and ‘animal’, are not as firm as advocates of the Western science tradition might believe. As this essay highlights, science can be a mythology of its own, and monsters can serve as its gods of the gaps—or, in the case of megalodon, the god of the depths. Megalodon Fossils: A Short History Ancient peoples of various cultures likely viewed fossilised teeth of megalodons in the area of modern-day Syria (Mayor, First Fossil Hunters 257). Over the past 2500 years, Native American cultures in North America used megalodon teeth both as curios and cutting tools, due to their large size and serrated edges. A substantial trade in megalodon teeth fossils existed between the cultures inhabiting the areas of the Chesapeake Bay and Ohio River Valley (Lowery et al. 93-108). A 1961 study found megalodon teeth present as offerings in pre-Columbian temples across Central America, including in the Mayan city of Palenque in Mexico and Sitio Conte in Panama (de Borhegyi 273-96). But these cases led to no mythologies incorporating megalodons, in contrast to examples such as the Unktehi, a Sioux water monster of myth likely inspired by a combination of mammoth and mosasaur fossils (Mayor, First Americans 221-38). In early modern Europe, megalodon teeth were initially referred to as ‘tongue stones’, due to their similarity in size and shape to human tongues—just one of many ways modern cryptozoology comes from European religious and mystical thought (Dendle 190-216). In 1605, English scholar Richard Verstegan published his book A Restitution of Decayed Intelligence in Antiquities, which included an engraving of a tongue stone, making megalodon teeth potentially the subject of the first known illustration of any fossil (Davidson 333). In Malta, from the sixteenth through eighteenth centuries, megalodon teeth, known as ‘St. Paul’s tongue’, were used as charms to ward off the evil eye, dipped into drinks suspected of being poisoned, and even ground into powder and consumed as medicine (Zammit-Maempel, “Evil Eye” plate III; Zammit-Maempel, “Handbills” 220; Freller 31-32). While megalodon teeth were valued in and of themselves, they were not incorporated into myths, or led to a belief in megalodons still being extant. Indeed, save for their size, megalodon teeth were hard to distinguish from those of living sharks, like great whites. Instead, both the identification of megalodons as a species, and the idea that they might still be alive, were notions which originated from extrapolations of the results of nineteenth and twentieth century European scientific studies. In particular, the major culprit was the famous British 1872-76 HMS Challenger expedition, which led to the establishment of oceanography as a branch of science. In 1873, Challenger recovered fossilised megalodon teeth from the South Pacific, the first recovered in the open ocean (Shuker 48; Goss 35; Roesch). In 1959, the zoologist Wladimir Tschernezky of Queen Mary College analysed the teeth recovered by the Challenger and argued (erroneously, as later seen) that the accumulation of manganese dioxide on its surface indicated that one had to have been deposited within the last 11,000 years, while another was given an age of 24,000 years (1331-32). However, these views have more recently been debunked, with megalodon extinction occurring over two million years ago at the absolute latest (Pimiento and Clements 1-5; Coleman and Huyghe 138; Roesch). Tschernezky’s 1959 claim that megalodons still existed as of 9000 BCE was followed by the 1963 book Sharks and Rays of Australian Seas, a posthumous publication by ichthyologist David George Stead. Stead recounted a story told to him in 1918 by fishermen in Port Stephens, New South Wales, of an encounter with a fully white shark in the 115-300 foot range, which Stead argued was a living megalodon. That this account came from Stead was notable as he held a PhD in biology, had founded the Wildlife Preservation Society of Australia, and had debunked an earlier supposed sea monster sighting in Sydney Harbor in 1907 (45-46). The Stead account formed the backbone of cryptozoological claims for the continued existence of the megalodon, and after the book’s publication, multiple reports of giant shark sightings in the Pacific from the 1920s and 1930s were retroactively associated with relict megalodons (Shuker 43, 49; Coleman and Huyghe 139-40; Goss 40-41; Roesch). A Monster of Science and Culture As I have outlined above, the ‘megalodon as cryptid hypothesis’ had as its origin story not in Native American or African myth, but Western science: the Challenger Expedition, a London zoologist, and an Australian ichthyologist. Nor was the idea of a living megalodon necessarily outlandish; in the decades after the Challenger Expedition, a number of supposedly extinct fish species had been discovered to be anything but. In the late 1800s, the goblin shark and frilled shark, both considered ‘living fossils’, had been found in the Pacific (Goss 34-35). In 1938, the coelacanth, also believed by Western naturalists to have been extinct for millions of years, was rediscovered (at least by Europeans) in South Africa, samples having occasionally been caught by local fishermen for centuries. The coelacanth in particular helped give scientific legitimacy to the idea, prevalent for decades by that point, that living dinosaurs—associated with a legendary creature called the mokele-mbembe—might still exist in the heart of Central Africa (Guimont). In 1976, a US Navy ship off Hawaii recovered a megamouth shark, a deep-water species completely unknown prior. All of these oceanic discoveries gave credence to the idea that the megalodon might also still survive (Coleman and Clark 66-68, 156-57; Shuker 41; Goss 35; Roesch). Indeed, Goss has noted that prior to 1938, respectable ichthyologists were more likely to believe in the continued existence of the megalodon than the coelacanth (39-40). Of course, the major reason why speculation over megalodon survival had such public resonance was completely unscientific: the already-entrenched fascination with the fact that it had been a locomotive-sized killer. This had most clearly been driven home by a 1909 display at the American Museum of Natural History in New York City. There, Bashford Dean, an ichthyologist at the museum, reconstructed an immense megalodon jaw, complete with actual fossil teeth. However, due to the fact that Dean assumed that all megalodon teeth were approximately the same size as the largest examples medially in the jaws, Dean’s jaw was at least one third larger than the likely upper limit of megalodon size. Nevertheless, the public perception of the megalodon remained at the 80-foot length that Dean extrapolated, rather than the more realistic 55-foot length that was the likely approximate upper size (Randall 170; Shuker 47; Goss 36-39). In particular, this inaccurate size estimate became entrenched in public thought due to a famous photograph of Dean and other museum officials posing inside his reconstructed jaw—a photograph which appeared in perhaps the most famous piece of shark fiction of all time, Steven Spielberg’s 1975 film Jaws. As it would turn out, the megalodon connection was itself a relic from the movie’s evolutionary ancestor, Peter Benchley’s novel, Jaws, from the year before. In the novel, the Woods Hole ichthyologist Matt Hooper (played by Richard Dreyfuss in the film) proposes that megalodons not only still exist, but they are the same species as great white sharks, with the smaller size of traditional great whites being due to the fact that they are simply on the small end of the megalodon size range (257-59). Benchley was reflecting on what was then the contemporary idea that megalodons likely resembled scaled-up great white sharks; something which is no longer as accepted. This was particularly notable as a number of claimed sightings stated that the alleged megalodons were larger great whites (Shuker 48-49), perhaps circuitously due to the Jaws influence. However, Goss was apparently unaware of Benchley’s linkage when he noted in 1987 (incidentally the year of the fourth and final Jaws movie) that to a megalodon, “the great white shark of Jaws would have been a stripling and perhaps a between-meals snack” (36). The publication of the Jaws novel led to an increased interest in the megalodon amongst cryptozoologists (Coleman and Clark 154; Mullis, “Cryptofiction” 246). But even so, it attracted rather less attention than other cryptids. From 1982-98, Heuvelmans served as president of the International Society of Cryptozoology, whose official journal was simply titled Cryptozoology. The notion of megalodon survival was addressed only once in its pages, and that as a brief mention in a letter to the editor (Raynal 112). This was in stark contrast to the oft-discussed potential for dinosaurs, mammoths, and Neanderthals to remain alive in the present day. In 1991, prominent British cryptozoologist Karl Shuker published an article endorsing the idea of extant megalodons (46-49). But this was followed by a 1998 article by Ben S. Roesch in The Cryptozoology Review severely criticising the methodology of Shuker and others who believed in the megalodon’s existence (Roesch). Writing in 1999, Loren Coleman and Jerome Clark, arguably the most prominent post-Heuvelmans cryptozoologists, were agnostic on the megalodon’s survival (155). The British palaeozoologist Darren Naish, a critic of cryptozoology, has pointed out that even if Shuker and others are correct and the megalodon continues to live in deep sea crevasses, it would be distinct enough from the historical surface-dwelling megalodon to be a separate species, to which he gave the hypothetical classification Carcharocles modernicus (Naish). And even the public fascination with the megalodon has its limits: at a 24 June 2004 auction in New York City, a set of megalodon jaws went on sale for $400,000, but were left unpurchased (Couzin 174). New Mythologies The ‘megalodon as cryptid hypothesis’ is effectively a fairy tale born of the blending of science, mythology, and most importantly, fiction. Beyond Jaws or Shark Attack 3—and potentially having inspired the latter (Weinberg)—perhaps the key patient zero of megalodon fiction is Steve Alten’s 1997 novel Meg: A Novel of Deep Terror, which went through a tortuous development adaptation process to become the 2018 film The Meg (Mullis, “Journey” 291-95). In the novel, the USS Nautilus, the US Navy’s first nuclear submarine and now a museum ship in Connecticut, is relaunched in order to hunt down the megalodon, only to be chomped in half by the shark. This is a clear allusion to Jules Verne’s 20,000 Leagues under the Sea (1870), where his Nautilus (namesake of the real submarine) is less successfully attacked by a giant cuttlefish (Alten, Meg 198; Verne 309-17). Meanwhile, in Alten’s 1999 sequel The Trench, an industrialist’s attempts to study the megalodon are revealed as an excuse to mine helium-3 from the seafloor to build fusion reactors, a plot financed by none other than a pre-9/11 Osama bin Laden in order to allow the Saudis to take over the global economy, in the process linking the megalodon with a monster of an entirely different type (Alten, Trench 261-62). In most adaptations of Verne’s novel, the cuttlefish that attacks the Nautilus is replaced by a giant squid, traditionally seen as the basis for the kraken of Norse myth (Thone 191). The kraken/giant squid dichotomy is present in the video game Stranded Deep. In it, the player’s unnamed avatar is a businessman whose plane crashes into a tropical sea, and must survive by scavenging resources, crafting shelters, and fighting predators across various islands. Which sea in particular does the player crash into? It is hard to say, as the only indication of specific location comes from the three ‘boss’ creatures the player must fight. One of them is Abaia, a creature from Melanesian mythology; another is Lusca, a creature from Caribbean mythology; the third is a megalodon. Lusca and Abaia, despite being creatures of mythology, are depicted as a giant squid and a giant moray eel, respectively. But the megalodon is portrayed as itself. Stranded Deep serves as a perfect distillation of the megalodon mythos: the shark is its own mythological basis, and its own cryptid equivalent. References Alten, Steven. Meg: A Novel of Deep Terror. New York: Doubleday, 1997. Alten, Steven. The Trench. New York: Pinnacle Books, 1999. Atherton, Darren. Jaws Unleashed. Videogame. Hungary: Appaloosa Interactive, 2006. Benchley, Peter. Jaws: A Novel. New York: Doubleday, 1974. Coleman, Loren, and Jerome Clark. Cryptozoology A to Z: The Encyclopedia of Loch Monsters, Sasquatch, Chupacabras, and Other Authentic Mysteries of Nature. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1999. Coleman, Loren, and Patrick Huyghe. The Field Guide to Lake Monsters, Sea Serpents, and Other Mystery Denizens of the Deep. Los Angeles: TarcherPerigee, 2003. Couzin, Jennifer. “Random Samples.” Science 305.5681 (2004): 174. Davidson, Jane P. “Fish Tales: Attributing the First Illustration of a Fossil Shark’s Tooth to Richard Verstegan (1605) and Nicolas Steno (1667).” Proceedings of the Academy of Natural Sciences of Philadelphia 150 (2000): 329–44. De Borhegyi, Stephan F. “Shark Teeth, Stingray Spines, and Shark Fishing in Ancient Mexico and Central America.” Southwestern Journal of Anthropology 17.3 (1961): 273–96. Dendle, Peter. “Cryptozoology in the Medieval and Modern Worlds.” Folklore 117.2 (2006): 190–206. Flores, Jorge, “Distant Wonders: The Strange and the Marvelous between Mughal India and Habsburg Iberia in the Early Seventeenth Century.” Comparative Studies in Society and History 49.3 (2007): 553–81. Freller, Thomas. “The Pauline Cult in Malta and the Movement of the Counter-Reformation: The Development of Its International Reputation.” The Catholic Historical Review 85.1 (1999): 15–34. Fuchs, Michael. “Becoming-Shark? Jaws Unleashed, the Animal Avatar, and Popular Culture’s Eco-Politics.” Beasts of the Deep: Sea Creatures and Popular Culture. Jon Hackett and Seán Harrington. Bloomington: Indiana UP, 2018. 172–83. Goss, Michael. “Do Giant Prehistoric Sharks Survive?” Fate 40.11 (1987): 32–41. Guimont, Edward. “Hunting Dinosaurs in Central Africa.” Contingent Magazine, 18 Mar. 2019. 26 May 2021 <http://contingentmagazine.org/2019/03/18/hunting-dinosaurs-africa/>. Heuvelmans, Bernard. “What is Cryptozoology?” Trans. Ron Westrum. Cryptozoology 1 (1982): 1–12. Jaws. Dir. Steven Spielberg. Universal Pictures, 1975. Lowery, Darrin, Stephen J. Godfrey, and Ralph Eshelman. “Integrated Geology, Paleontology, and Archaeology: Native American Use of Fossil Shark Teeth in the Chesapeake Bay Region.” Archaeology of Eastern North America 39 (2011): 93–108. Mayor, Adrienne. The First Fossil Hunters: Dinosaurs, Mammoths, and Myth in Greek and Roman Times. Princeton: Princeton UP, 2000. Mayor, Adrienne. Fossil Legends of the First Americans. Princeton: Princeton UP, 2005. Meg, The. Dir. Jon Turteltaub. Warner Brothers, 2018. Mullis, Justin. “Cryptofiction! Science Fiction and the Rise of Cryptozoology.” The Paranormal and Popular Culture: A Postmodern Religious Landscape. Eds. Darryl Caterine and John W. Morehead. London: Routledge, 2019. 240–52. Mullis, Justin. “The Meg’s Long Journey to the Big Screen.” Jaws Unmade: The Lost Sequels, Prequels, Remakes, and Rip-Offs. John LeMay. Roswell: Bicep Books, 2020. 291–95. Naish, Darren. “Tales from the Cryptozoologicon: Megalodon!” Scientific American, 5 Aug. 2013. 27 May 2021 <https://blogs.scientificamerican.com/tetrapod-zoology/cryptozoologicon-megalodon-teaser/>. Pimiento, Catalina, and Christopher F. Clements. “When Did Carcharocles Megalodon Become Extinct? A New Analysis of the Fossil Record.” PLoS One 9.10 (2014): 1–5. Randall, John E. “Size of the Great White Shark (Carcharodon).” Science 181.4095 (1973): 169–70. Raynal, Michel. “The Linnaeus of the Zoology of Tomorrow.” Cryptozoology 6 (1987): 110–15. Regal, Brian. Searching for Sasquatch: Crackpots, Eggheads, and Cryptozoology. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2011. Roesch, Ben S. “A Critical Evaluation of the Supposed Contemporary Existence of Carcharodon Megalodon.” Internet Archive, 1999. 28 May 2021 <https://web.archive.org/web/20131021005820/http:/web.ncf.ca/bz050/megalodon.html>. Scott, Ryan. “TikTok of Giant Shark Terrorizing Tourists Ignites Megalodon Theories.” Movieweb, 27 May 2021. 28 May 2021 <https://movieweb.com/giant-shark-tiktok-video-megalodon/>. Shark Attack. Dir. Bob Misiorowski. Martien Holdings A.V.V., 1999. Shark Attack 3: Megalodon. Dir. David Worth. Nu Image Films, 2002. Shuker, Karl P.N. “The Search for Monster Sharks.” Fate 44.3 (1991): 41–49. Stead, David G. Sharks and Rays of Australian Seas. Sydney: Angus & Robertson, 1963. Stranded Deep. Australia: Beam Team Games, 2015. Thone, Frank. “Nature Ramblings: Leviathan and the Kraken.” The Science News-Letter 33.12 (1938): 191. Tschernezky, Wladimir. “Age of Carcharodon Megalodon?” Nature 184.4695 (1959): 1331–32. Verne, Jules. Twenty Thousand Leagues under the Sea. 1870. New York: M. A. Donohue & Company, 1895. Weinberg, Scott. “Shark Attack 3: Megalodon.” eFilmCritic! 3 May 2004. 20 Sep. 2021 <https://www.efilmcritic.com/review.php?movie=9135&reviewer=128>. Zammit-Maempel, George. “The Evil Eye and Protective Cattle Horns in Malta.” Folklore 79.1 (1968): 1–16. ———. “Handbills Extolling the Virtues of Fossil Shark’s Teeth.” Melita Historica 7.3 (1978): 211–24.

Over the past century, many books for general readers have styled sharks as “monsters of the deep” (Steele). In recent decades, however, at least some writers have also turned to representing how sharks are seriously threatened by human activities. At a time when media coverage of shark sightings seems ever increasing in Australia, scholarship has begun to consider people’s attitudes to sharks and how these are formed, investigating the representation of sharks (Peschak; Ostrovski et al.) in films (Le Busque and Litchfield; Neff; Schwanebeck), newspaper reports (Muter et al.), and social media (Le Busque et al., “An Analysis”). My own research into representations of surfing and sharks in Australian writing (Brien) has, however, revealed that, although reporting of shark sightings and human-shark interactions are prominent in the news, and sharks function as vivid and commanding images and metaphors in art and writing (Ellis; Westbrook et al.), little scholarship has investigated their representation in Australian books published for a general readership. While recognising representations of sharks in other book-length narrative forms in Australia, including Australian fiction, poetry, and film (Ryan and Ellison), this enquiry is focussed on non-fiction books for general readers, to provide an initial review. Sampling holdings of non-fiction books in the National Library of Australia, crosschecked with Google Books, in early 2021, this investigation identified 50 Australian books for general readers that are principally about sharks, or that feature attitudes to them, published from 1911 to 2021. Although not seeking to capture all Australian non-fiction books for general readers that feature sharks, the sampling attempted to locate a wide range of representations and genres across the time frame from the earliest identified text until the time of the survey. The books located include works of natural and popular history, travel writing, memoir, biography, humour, and other long-form non-fiction for adult and younger readers, including hybrid works. A thematic analysis (Guest et al.) of the representation of sharks in these texts identified five themes that moved from understanding sharks as fishes to seeing them as monsters, then prey, and finally to endangered species needing conservation. Many books contained more than one theme, and not all examples identified have been quoted in the discussion of the themes below. Sharks as Part of the Natural Environment Drawing on oral histories passed through generations, two memoirs (Bradley et al.; Fossa) narrate Indigenous stories in which sharks play a central role. These reveal that sharks are part of both the world and a wider cosmology for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people (Clua and Guiart). In these representations, sharks are integrated with, and integral to, Indigenous life, with one writer suggesting they are “creator beings, ancestors, totems. Their lifecycles reflect the seasons, the landscape and sea country. They are seen in the movement of the stars” (Allam). A series of natural history narratives focus on zoological studies of Australian sharks, describing shark species and their anatomy and physiology, as well as discussing shark genetics, behaviour, habitats, and distribution. A foundational and relatively early Australian example is Gilbert P. Whitley’s The Fishes of Australia: The Sharks, Rays, Devil-fish, and Other Primitive Fishes of Australia and New Zealand, published in 1940. Ichthyologist at the Australian Museum in Sydney from the early 1920s to 1964, Whitley authored several books which furthered scientific thought on sharks. Four editions of his Australian Sharks were published between 1983 and 1991 in English, and the book is still held in many libraries and other collections worldwide. In this text, Whitley described a wide variety of sharks, noting shared as well as individual features. Beautiful drawings contribute information on shape, colouring, markings, and other recognisable features to assist with correct identification. Although a scientist and a Fellow and then President of the Royal Zoological Society of New South Wales, Whitley recognised it was important to communicate with general readers and his books are accessible, the prose crisp and clear. Books published after this text (Aiken; Ayling; Last and Stevens; Tricas and Carwardine) share Whitley’s regard for the diversity of sharks as well as his desire to educate a general readership. By 2002, the CSIRO’s Field Guide to Australian Sharks & Rays (Daley et al.) also featured numerous striking photographs of these creatures. Titles such as Australia’s Amazing Sharks (Australian Geographic) emphasise sharks’ unique qualities, including their agility and speed in the water, sensitive sight and smell, and ability to detect changes in water pressure around them, heal rapidly, and replace their teeth. These books also emphasise the central role that sharks play in the marine ecosystem. There are also such field guides to sharks in specific parts of Australia (Allen). This attention to disseminating accurate zoological information about sharks is also evident in books written for younger readers including very young children (Berkes; Kear; Parker and Parker). In these and other similar books, sharks are imaged as a central and vital component of the ocean environment, and the narratives focus on their features and qualities as wondrous rather than monstrous. Sharks as Predatory Monsters A number of books for general readers do, however, image sharks as monsters. In 1911, in his travel narrative Peeps at Many Lands: Australia, Frank Fox describes sharks as “the most dangerous foes of man in Australia” (23) and many books have reinforced this view over the following century. This can be seen in titles that refer to sharks as dangerous predatory killers (Fox and Ruhen; Goadby; Reid; Riley; Sharpe; Taylor and Taylor). The covers of a large proportion of such books feature sharks emerging from the water, jaws wide open in explicit homage to the imaging of the monster shark in the film Jaws (Spielberg). Shark!: Killer Tales from the Dangerous Depths (Reid) is characteristic of books that portray encounters with sharks as terrifying and dramatic, using emotive language and stories that describe sharks as “the world’s most feared sea creature” (47) because they are such “highly efficient killing machines” (iv, see also 127, 129). This representation of sharks is also common in several books for younger readers (Moriarty; Rohr). Although the risk of being injured by an unprovoked shark is extremely low (Chapman; Fletcher et al.), fear of sharks is prevalent and real (Le Busque et al., “People’s Fear”) and described in a number of these texts. Several of the memoirs located describe surfers’ fear of sharks (Muirhead; Orgias), as do those of swimmers, divers, and other frequent users of the sea (Denness; de Gelder; McAloon), even if the author has never encountered a shark in the wild. In these texts, this fear of sharks is often traced to viewing Jaws, and especially to how the film’s huge, bloodthirsty great white shark persistently and determinedly attacks its human hunters. Pioneer Australian shark expert Valerie Taylor describes such great white sharks as “very big, powerful … and amazingly beautiful” but accurately notes that “revenge is not part of their thought process” (Kindle version). Two books explicitly seek to map and explain Australians’ fear of sharks. In Sharks: A History of Fear in Australia, Callum Denness charts this fear across time, beginning with his own “shark story”: a panicked, terror-filled evacuation from the sea, following the sighting of a shadow which turned out not to be a shark. Blake Chapman’s Shark Attacks: Myths, Misunderstandings and Human Fears explains commonly held fearful perceptions of sharks. Acknowledging that sharks are a “highly emotive topic”, the author of this text does not deny “the terror [that] they invoke in our psyche” but makes a case that this is “only a minor characteristic of what makes them such intriguing animals” (ix). In Death by Coconut: 50 Things More Dangerous than a Shark and Why You Shouldn’t Be Afraid of the Ocean, Ruby Ashby Orr utilises humour to educate younger readers about the real risk humans face from sharks and, as per the book’s title, why they should not be feared, listing champagne corks and falling coconuts among the many everyday activities more likely to lead to injury and death in Australia than encountering a shark. Taylor goes further in her memoir – not only describing her wonder at swimming with these creatures, but also her calm acceptance of the possibility of being injured by a shark: "if we are to be bitten, then we are to be bitten … . One must choose a life of adventure, and of mystery and discovery, but with that choice, one must also choose the attendant risks" (2019: Kindle version). Such an attitude is very rare in the books located, with even some of the most positive about these sea creatures still quite sensibly fearful of potentially dangerous encounters with them. Sharks as Prey There is a long history of sharks being fished in Australia (Clark). The killing of sharks for sport is detailed in An American Angler in Australia, which describes popular adventure writer Zane Grey’s visit to Australia and New Zealand in the 1930s to fish ‘big game’. This text includes many bloody accounts of killing sharks, which are justified with explanations about how sharks are dangerous. It is also illustrated with gruesome pictures of dead sharks. Australian fisher Alf Dean’s biography describes him as the “World’s Greatest Shark Hunter” (Thiele), this text similarly illustrated with photographs of some of the gigantic sharks he caught and killed in the second half of the twentieth century. Apart from being killed during pleasure and sport fishing, sharks are also hunted by spearfishers. Valerie Taylor and her late husband, Ron Taylor, are well known in Australia and internationally as shark experts, but they began their careers as spearfishers and shark hunters (Taylor, Ron Taylor’s), with the documentary Shark Hunters gruesomely detailing their killing of many sharks. The couple have produced several books that recount their close encounters with sharks (Taylor; Taylor, Taylor and Goadby; Taylor and Taylor), charting their movement from killers to conservationists as they learned more about the ocean and its inhabitants. Now a passionate campaigner against the past butchery she participated in, Taylor’s memoir describes her shift to a more respectful relationship with sharks, driven by her desire to understand and protect them. In Australia, the culling of sharks is supposedly carried out to ensure human safety in the ocean, although this practice has long been questioned. In 1983, for instance, Whitley noted the “indiscriminate” killing of grey nurse sharks, despite this species largely being very docile and of little threat to people (Australian Sharks, 10). This is repeated by Tony Ayling twenty-five years later who adds the information that the generally harmless grey nurse sharks have been killed to the point of extinction, as it was wrongly believed they preyed on surfers and swimmers. Shark researcher and conservationist Riley Elliott, author of Shark Man: One Kiwi Man’s Mission to Save Our Most Feared and Misunderstood Predator (2014), includes an extremely critical chapter on Western Australian shark ‘management’ through culling, summing up the problems associated with this approach: it seems to me that this cull involved no science or logic, just waste and politics. It’s sickening that the people behind this cull were the Fisheries department, which prior to this was the very department responsible for setting up the world’s best acoustic tagging system for sharks. (Kindle version, Chapter 7) Describing sharks as “misunderstood creatures”, Orr is also clear in her opposition to killing sharks to ‘protect’ swimmers noting that “each year only around 10 people are killed in shark attacks worldwide, while around 73 million sharks are killed by humans”. She adds the question and answer, “sounds unfair? Of course it is, but when an attack is all over the news and the people are baying for shark blood, it’s easy to lose perspective. But culling them? Seriously?” (back cover). The condemnation of culling is also evident in David Brooks’s recent essay on the topic in his collection of essays about animal welfare, conservation and the relationship between humans and other species, Animal Dreams. This disapproval is also evident in narratives by those who have been injured by sharks. Navy diver Paul de Gelder and surfer Glen Orgias were both bitten by sharks in Sydney in 2009 and both their memoirs detail their fear of sharks and the pain they suffered from these interactions and their lengthy recoveries. However, despite their undoubted suffering – both men lost limbs due to these encounters – they also attest to their ongoing respect for these creatures and specify a shared desire not to see them culled. Orgias, instead, charts the life story of the shark who bit him alongside his own story in his memoir, musing at the end of the book, not about himself or his injury, but about the fate of the shark he had encountered: great whites are portrayed … as pathological creatures, and as malevolent. That’s rubbish … they are graceful, mighty beasts. I respect them, and fear them … [but] the thought of them fighting, dying, in a net upsets me. I hope this great white shark doesn’t end up like that. (271–271) Several of the more recent books identified in this study acknowledge that, despite growing understanding of sharks, the popular press and many policy makers continue to advocate for shark culls, these calls especially vocal after a shark-related human death or injury (Peppin-Neff). The damage to shark species involved caused by their killing – either directly by fishing, spearing, finning, or otherwise hunting them, or inadvertently as they become caught in nets or affected by human pollution of the ocean – is discussed in many of the more recent books identified in this study. Sharks as Endangered Alongside fishing, finning, and hunting, human actions and their effects such as beach netting, pollution and habitat change are killing many sharks, to the point where many shark species are threatened. Several recent books follow Orr in noting that an estimated 100 million sharks are now killed annually across the globe and that this, as well as changes to their habitats, are driving many shark species to the status of vulnerable, threatened or towards extinction (Dulvy et al.). This is detailed in texts about biodiversity and climate change in Australia (Steffen et al.) as well as in many of the zoologically focussed books discussed above under the theme of “Sharks as part of the natural environment”. The CSIRO’s Field Guide to Australian Sharks & Rays (Daley et al.), for example, emphasises not only that several shark species are under threat (and protected) (8–9) but also that sharks are, as individuals, themselves very fragile creatures. Their skeletons are made from flexible, soft cartilage rather than bone, meaning that although they are “often thought of as being incredibly tough; in reality, they need to be handled carefully to maximise their chance of survival following capture” (9). Material on this theme is included in books for younger readers on Australia’s endangered animals (Bourke; Roc and Hawke). Shark Conservation By 1991, shark conservation in Australia and overseas was a topic of serious discussion in Sydney, with an international workshop on the subject held at Taronga Zoo and the proceedings published (Pepperell et al.). Since then, the movement to protect sharks has grown, with marine scientists, high-profile figures and other writers promoting shark conservation, especially through attempts to educate the general public about sharks. De Gelder’s memoir, for instance, describes how he now champions sharks, promoting shark conservation in his work as a public speaker. Peter Benchley, who (with Carl Gottlieb) recast his novel Jaws for the film’s screenplay, later attested to regretting his portrayal of sharks as aggressive and became a prominent spokesperson for shark conservation. In explaining his change of heart, he stated that when he wrote the novel, he was reflecting the general belief that sharks would both seek out human prey and attack boats, but he later discovered this to be untrue (Benchley, “Without Malice”). Many recent books about sharks for younger readers convey a conservation message, underscoring how, instead of fearing or killing sharks, or doing nothing, humans need to actively assist these vulnerable creatures to survive. In the children’s book series featuring Bindi Irwin and her “wildlife adventures”, there is a volume where Bindi and a friend are on a diving holiday when they find a dead shark whose fin has been removed. The book not only describes how shark finning is illegal, but also how Bindi and friend are “determined to bring the culprits to justice” (Browne). This narrative, like the other books in this series, has a dual focus; highlighting the beauty of wildlife and its value, but also how the creatures described need protection and assistance. Concluding Discussion This study was prompted by the understanding that the Earth is currently in the epoch known as the Anthropocene, a time in which humans have significantly altered, and continue to alter, the Earth by our activities (Myers), resulting in numerous species becoming threatened, endangered, or extinct. It acknowledges the pressing need for not only natural science research on these actions and their effects, but also for such scientists to publish their findings in more accessible ways (see, Paulin and Green). It specifically responds to demands for scholarship outside the relevant areas of science and conservation to encourage widespread thinking and action (Mascia et al.; Bennett et al.). As understanding public perceptions and overcoming widely held fear of sharks can facilitate their conservation (Panoch and Pearson), the way sharks are imaged is integral to their survival. The five themes identified in this study reveal vastly different ways of viewing and writing about sharks. These range from seeing sharks as nothing more than large fishes to be killed for pleasure, to viewing them as terrifying monsters, to finally understanding that they are amazing creatures who play an important role in the world’s environment and are in urgent need of conservation. This range of representation is important, for if sharks are understood as demon monsters which hunt humans, then it is much more ‘reasonable’ to not care about their future than if they are understood to be fascinating and fragile creatures suffering from their interactions with humans and our effect on the environment. Further research could conduct a textual analysis of these books. In this context, it is interesting to note that, although in 1949 C. Bede Maxwell suggested describing human deaths and injuries from sharks as “accidents” (182) and in 2013 Christopher Neff and Robert Hueter proposed using “sightings, encounters, bites, and the rare cases of fatal bites” (70) to accurately represent “the true risk posed by sharks” to humans (70), the majority of the books in this study, like mass media reports, continue to use the ubiquitous and more dramatic terminology of “shark attack”. The books identified in this analysis could also be compared with international texts to reveal and investigate global similarities and differences. While the focus of this discussion has been on non-fiction texts, a companion analysis of representation of sharks in Australian fiction, poetry, films, and other narratives could also be undertaken, in the hope that such investigations contribute to more nuanced understandings of these majestic sea creatures. References Aitken, Kelvin. Sharks & Rays of Australia. New Holland, 1998. Allam, Lorena. “Indigenous Cultural Views of the Shark.” Earshot, ABC Radio, 24 Sep. 2015. 1 Mar. 2021 <https://www.abc.net.au/radionational/programs/earshot/indigenous-cultural-views-of-the-shark/6798174>. Allen, Gerald R. Field Guide to Marine Fishes of Tropical Australia and South-East Asia. 4th ed. Welshpool: Western Australian Museum, 2009. Australian Geographic. Australia’s Amazing Sharks. Bauer Media, 2020. Ayling, Tony. Sharks & Rays. Steve Parish, 2008. Benchley, Peter. Jaws. New York: Doubleday, 1974. Benchley, Peter. “Without Malice: In Defence of the Shark.” The Guardian 9 Nov. 2000. 1 Mar. 2021 <https://www.theguardian.com/theguardian/2000/nov/09/features11.g22>. Bennett, Nathan J., Robin Roth, Sarah C. Klain, Kai M.A. Chan, Douglas A. Clark, Georgina Cullman, Graham Epstein, Michael Paul Nelson, Richard Stedman, Tara L. Teel, Rebecca E. W. Thomas, Carina Wyborn, Deborah Curran, Alison Greenberg, John Sandlos, and Diogo Veríssimo. “Mainstreaming the Social Sciences in Conservation.” Conservation Biology 31.1 (2017): 56–66. Berkes, Marianne. Over in Australia: Amazing Animals Down Under. Sourcebooks, 2011. Bourke, Jane. Endangered Species of Australia. Ready-Ed Publications, 2006. Bradley, John, and Yanyuwa Families. Singing Saltwater Country: Journey to the Songlines of Carpentaria. Allen & Unwin, 2010. Brien, Donna Lee. “Surfing with Sharks: A Survey of Australian Non-Fiction Writing about Surfing and Sharks.” TEXT: Journal of Writing and Writing Programs, forthcoming. Brooks, David. Animal Dreams. Sydney: Sydney University Press, 2021. Browne, Ellie. Island Ambush. Random House Australia, 2011. Chapman, Blake. Shark Attacks: Myths, Misunderstandings and Human Fears. CSIRO, 2017. Clark, Anna. The Catch: The Story of Fishing in Australia. National Library of Australia, 2017. Clua, Eric, and Jean Guiart. “Why the Kanak Don’t Fear Sharks: Myths as a Coherent but Dangerous Mirror of Nature.” Oceania 90 (2020): 151–166. Daley, R.K., J.D. Stevens, P.R. Last, and G.R. Yearsly. Field Guide to Australian Sharks & Rays. CSIRO Marine Research, 2002. De Gelder, Paul. No Time For Fear: How a Shark Attack Survivor Beat the Odds. Penguin, 2011. Denness, Callum. Sharks: A History of Fear in Australia. Affirm Press, 2019. Dulvy, Nicholas K., Sarah L. Fowler, John A. Musick, Rachel D. Cavanagh, Peter M. Kyne, Lucy R. Harrison, John K. Carlson, Lindsay N.K. Davidson, Sonja V. Fordham, Malcolm P. Francis, Caroline M. Pollock, Colin A. Simpfendorfer, George H. Burgess, Kent E. Carpenter, Leonard J.V. Compagno, David A. Ebert, Claudine Gibson, Michelle R. Heupel, Suzanne R. Livingstone, Jonnell C. Sanciangco, John D. Stevens, Sarah Valenti, and William T. White. “Extinction Risk and Conservation of the World’s Sharks and Rays.” eLife 3 (2014): e00590. DOI: 10.7554/eLife.00590. Elliott, Riley. Shark Man: One Kiwi Man’s Mission to Save Our Most Feared and Misunderstood Predator. Penguin Random House New Zealand, 2014. Ellis, Richard. Shark: A Visual History. New York: Lyons Press, 2012. Fletcher, Garth L., Erich Ritter, Raid Amin, Kevin Cahn, and Jonathan Lee. “Against Common Assumptions, the World’s Shark Bite Rates are Decreasing.” Journal of Marine Biology 2019: art ID 7184634. <https://doi.org/10.1155/2019/7184634>. Fossa, Ada. Stories, Laughter and Tears Through Bygone Years in Shark Bay. Morrisville, Lulu.com, 2017. Fox, Frank. Peeps at Many Lands: Australia. Adam and Charles Black, 1911. Fox, Rodney, and Olaf Ruhen. Shark Attacks and Adventures with Rodney Fox. O’Neill Wetsuits, 1975. Gerhardt, Karin. Indigenous Knowledge and Cultural Values of Hammerhead Sharks in Northern Australia. James Cook University, 2018. Goadby, Peter. Sharks and Other Predatory Fish of Australia. 2nd ed. Jacaranda Press, 1968. Grey, Zane. An American Angler in Australia. 1st ed. 1937. Derrydale Press, 2002. Guest, Greg, Kathleen M. MacQueen, and Emily E. Namey. Applied Thematic Analysis. Sage, 2012. Jaws. Dir. Steven Spielberg. Universal Pictures, 1975. Kear, Katie. Baby Shark: Adventure Down Under. North Sydney: Puffin/Penguin Random House, 2020. Last, Peter R., and John Donald Stevens. Sharks and Rays of Australia. CSIRO, 2009. Le Busque, Brianna, and Carla Litchfield. “Sharks on Film: An Analysis of How Shark-Human Interactions Are Portrayed in Films.” Human Dimensions of Wildlife (2021). DOI: 10.1080/10871209.2021.1951399. Le Busque, Brianna, Philip Roetman, Jillian Dorrian, and Carla Litchfield. “An Analysis of Australian News and Current Affair Program Coverage of Sharks on Facebook.” Conservation Science and Practice 1.11 (2019): e111. <https://doi.org/10.1111/csp2.111>. Le Busque, Brianna, Philip Roetman, Jillian Dorrian, and Carl Litchfield. “People’s Fear of Sharks: A Qualitative Analysis.” Journal of Environmental Studies and Sciences 11 (2021): 258–265. Lucrezi, Serena, Suria Ellis, and Enrico Gennari. “A Test of Causative and Moderator Effects in Human Perceptions of Sharks, Their Control and Framing.” Marine Policy 109 (2019): art 103687. <https://doi.org/10.1016/j.marpol.2019.103687>. Mascia, Michael B., C. Anne Claus, and Robin Naidoo. “Impacts of Marine Protected Areas on Fishing Communities.” Conservation Biology 24.5 (2010): 1424–1429. Maxwell, C. Bede. Surf: Australians against the Sea. Angus and Robertson, 1949. McAloon, Brendan. Sharks Never Sleep: First-Hand Encounters with Killers of the Sea. Updated ed. Hardie Grant, 2018. Moriarty, Ros. Ten Scared Fish. Sydney, Allen & Unwin, 2012. Muirhead, Desmond. Surfing in Hawaii: A Personal Memoir. Northland, 1962. Muter, Bret A., Meredith L. Gore, Katie S. Gledhill, Christopher Lamont, and Charlie Huveneers. “Australian and U.S. News Media Portrayal of Sharks and Their Conservation.” Conservation Biology 27 (2012): 187–196. Myers, Joe. “What Is the Anthropocene? And Why Does It Matter?” World Economic Forum 31 Aug. 2016. 6 Aug. 2021 <https://www.weforum.org/agenda/2016/08/what-is-the-anthropocene-and-why-does-it-matter>. Neff, Christopher. “The Jaws Effect: How Movie Narratives Are Used to Influence Policy Responses to Shark Bites in Western Australia.” Australian Journal of Political Science 50.1 (2015): 114–127. Neff, Christopher, and Robert Hueter. “Science, Policy, and the Public Discourse of Shark 'Attack': A Proposal for Reclassifying Human–Shark Interactions.” Journal of Environmental Studies and Sciences 3 (2013): 65–73. Orgias, Glenn. Man in a Grey Suit: A Memoir of Surfing, Shark Attack and Survival. Penguin, 2012. Orr, Ruby Ashby. Death by Coconut: 50 Things More Dangerous than a Shark and Why You Shouldn’t Be Afraid of the Ocean. Affirm Press, 2015. Ostrovski, Raquel Lubambo, Guilherme Martins Violante, Mariana Reis de Brito, Jean Louis Valentin, and Marcelo Vianna. “The Media Paradox: Influence on Human Shark Perceptions and Potential Conservation Impacts.” Ethnobiology and Conservation 10.12 (2021): 1–15. Panoch, Rainera, and Elissa L. Pearson. “Humans and Sharks: Changing Public Perceptions and Overcoming Fear to Facilitate Shark Conservation.” Society & Animals 25.1 (2017): 57–76 Parker Steve, and Jane Parker. The Encyclopedia of Sharks. Universal International, 1999. Paulin, Mike, and David Green. “Mostly Harmless: Sharks We Have Met.” Junctures 19 (2018): 117–122. Pepin-Neff, Christopher L. Flaws: Shark Bites and Emotional Public Policymaking. Palgrave Macmilliam, 2019. Pepperell, Julian, John West, and Peter Woon, eds. Shark Conservation: Proceedings of an International Workshop on the Conservation of Elasmobranchs Held at Taronga Zoo, Sydney, Australia, 24 February 1991. Zoological Parks Board of New South Wales, 1993. Peschak, Thomas P. “Sharks and Shark Bites in the Media.” Finding a Balance: White Shark Conservation and Recreational Safety in the Inshore Waters of Cape Town, South Africa. Eds. Deon C. Nel and Thomas P. Peschak. Cape Town: World Wildlife Fund, 2006. 159–163. Reid, Robert. Shark!: Killer Tales from the Dangerous Depths. Allen & Unwin Kindle version, 2010. Riley, Kathy. Australia’s Most Dangerous Sharks. Australian Geographic, 2013. Roc, Margaret, and Kathleen Hawke. Australia’s Critically Endangered Animals. Heinemann Library, 2006. Rohr, Ian. Snappers, Stingers and Stabbers of Australia. Young Reed, 2006. Royal Zoological Society of New South Wales. “RZS NSW Fellows.” 2021. 6 Aug. 2021 <https://www.rzsnsw.org.au/about-us/rzs-nsw-fellows/rzs-nsw-fellows>. Ryan, Mark David, and Elizabeth Ellison. “Beaches in Australian Horror Films: Sites of Fear and Retreat.” Writing the Australian Beach Local Site, Global Idea. Eds. Elizabeth Ellison and Donna Lee Brien. Palgrave/Springer, 2020. 125–141. Schwanebeck, Wieland, ed. Der Weisse Hai revisited: Steven Spielberg’s Jaws und die Geburt eines amerikanischen Albtraums. Bertz & Fischer, 2015. Shark Hunters. Dirs. Ben Cropp and Ron Tayor. Sydney, 1962. Sharpe, Alan. Shark Down Under: The History Shark Attacks in Australian Waters. Dominion Publishing, 1976. Steele, Philip. Sharks and Other Monsters of the Deep. London: DK, 1998. Steffen, Will, Andrew A. Burbidge, Lesley Hughes, Roger Kitching, David Lindenmayer, Warren Musgrave, Mark Stafford Smith, and Patricia A. Werner. Australia’s Biodiversity and Climate Change. CSIRO Publishing, 2009. Taylor, Ron. Ron Taylor’s Shark Fighters: Underwater in Colour. John Harding Underwater Promotions, 1965. Taylor, Ron, and Valerie Taylor. Sharks: Silent Hunters of the Deep. Reader’s Digest, 1990. Taylor, Ron, Valerie Taylor, and Peter Goadby, eds. Great Shark Stories. Harper & Row, 1978. Repub. 1986 and 2000. Taylor, Valerie. Valerie Taylor: An Adventurous Life. Hachette Australia, 2019. Thiele, Colin. Maneater Man: Alf Dean, the World’s Greatest Shark Hunter. Rigby, 1979. Tricas, Timothy C., and Mark Carwardine. Sharks and Whales. Five Mile Press, 2002 Westbrook, Vivienne R., Shaun Collin, Dean Crawford, and Mark Nicholls. Sharks in the Arts: From Feared to Revered. Routledge, 2018. Whitley, Gilbert Percy. The Fishes of Australia: The Sharks, Rays, Devil-Fish, and other Primitive Fishes of Australia and New Zealand. Royal Zoological Society of New South Wales, 1940. Whitley, Gilbert Percy. Australian Sharks. Lloyd O’Neil, 1983.