Journal articles on the topic 'Spouses – Fiction'

Abstract Objective Many studies reveal a gender gap in spousal care during late life. However, this gap could be an artifact of methodological limitations (small and unrepresentative cross-sectional samples). Using a data set that overcomes these limitations, we re-examine the question of gender differences in spousal care and housework adjustment when a serious illness occurs. Method We use biannual waves between 2001 and 2015 of the German Socio-Economic Panel Study and growth curve analyses. We follow couples longitudinally (identified in the household questionnaire) to analyze shifts in spousal care hours and housework plus errand hours that occur as a response to the spousal care need. We test for interactions with levels of care need and with gender. Results We found that men increase their care hours as much as women do, resulting in similar care hours. They also increase their housework and errand hours more than women do. Yet at lower levels of spousal care need, women still do more housework and errands because they spent more time doing housework before the illness. Discussion Even in a context of children’s decreasing availability to care for parents, male spouses assume the required caregiving role in systems relying on a mixture of public and private care.

The paper deals with the subject of temporary marriage between Russian sailors and Japanese women in fictional and non-fictional literature. The literary pattern of temporary marriage includes time limitation of the marriage, the language or/and cultural barrier and the man’s leaving at the end. The time limitation sometimes makes one or both spouses consider this marriage as legal, but “not true.” There are two main variants of the pattern in Russian travel notes of the 19th − early 20th century. The first is the positive one (A. Krasnov, D. Schreider, and N. Bartoshewsky). Both husband and wife are kind-hearted people, their family life is pure and real, although they do not entirely understand each other’s language. The second is the negative one (F. Knorring, D. Armfelt, G. de Vollan, and Vinogradov). Husband and wife are both pragmatic, rational, and cold, with the whole tradition turning into a sort of prostitution and insincere comedy. The plot variants, with one of the spouses being pragmatic, mercantile and cruel, and another loving, faithful, and suffering, are not common. Yuzhakov’s travel notes include such a rare case. The asymmetrical variant was more popular in Western fiction (Madame Butterfly). Russian fiction prefers the positive variant of the pattern. In short stories by D. Persky and M. Volkonsky, the authors transform the motives from Madame Chrysanthème by P. Loti and Madame Butterfly by J. L. Long by showing the Russians as noble people and achieving a happy end wherever possible.

The article analyses the peculiarities of bankruptcy of citizens. There are general and special insolvency procedures that are introduced over the property of citizens. The conclusion is made about the identity of regulation of consumer and commercial insolvency of citizens, in connection with which the rehabilitation of the entrepreneur’s enterprises is difficult. Particular attention is paid to the insolvency procedure of the mass of succession, as well as the insolvency procedure of the common property of spouses, qualified as special procedures, to which the rules on ordinary procedures are applied in a subsidiary manner. It is concluded that the heir, by virtue of a legal fiction, fulfils the rights and obligations of the debtor in the insolvency procedure in the event of the death of the testator. The emergence of the insolvency procedure of the common property of the spouses is noted, since it is introduced in judicial practice simultaneously regarding several separate property masses. The comparison of legal regulation and the objectives of procedures concerning separate masses of succession in Russia and Germany is made.

The relevance of the research topic is connected with the fact that marriage and family relations are of the most importance for society. A person's health, well-being, ability to work, and his/her relationship with other members of society depend on family relationships. Today, it is important for the development of law to establish in people's minds the possibility and sometimes even the necessity of concluding marriage contracts, because it makes it possible to discover the reality of the intention of the other spouse, in order to avoid problems with the division of property. But this is possible only if there are available and understandable rules and the mutual desire of both parties. Conducting scientific research makes it possible to identify problematic points and propose more profitable legal mechanisms for the regulation of social relations. The most common and, at the same time, the most complex category are disputes over the recognition of marriage contracts as invalid. In the process of their consideration, many questions arise, the answers to which are missing both in the legislation and in the explanations of the Supreme Court of Ukraine. The situation is complicated by the fact that it is new for law enforcement practice and this category of cases has a certain specificity. In law enforcement, ambiguities arise when resolving cases of invalidity of marriage and application of the consequences of invalidity. There is no uniformity when deciding the issue of persons who have the right to challenge in court a fictitious marriage, another invalid marriage or the abuse of the right. Ambiguities concern the procedure for invalidating a dissolved marriage, concluded with a violation of the degree of consanguinity or in the presence of another registered marriage; approaches to the regulation of relations regarding the exercise of the rights of persons who are or were in an invalid marriage; regulation of contractual relations of persons who entered into civil and family legal relations with them. In the scientific literature, the criteria of invalidity, the grounds and consequences of the invalidity of a fictitious marriage, as well as the common and different between the invalidity of a marriage and an invalid agreement are not sufficiently presented, the concept and content of the invalidity of a marriage contract are not developed. It became necessary to distinguish between persons who are in an invalid marriage and persons whose marriage has been declared invalid. Persons who are in an invalid marriage should be recognized as fictitious spouses. The spouses (or one of them) know that they are in an invalid marriage, but before it is contested, there is a fiction of reality, that is, they (or one of them) create for all other persons the appearance of the reality of marriage, a false idea of marriage. However, according to the legislation of Ukraine, these persons are spouses. Persons whose marriage is declared invalid due to their (one of them) violation of the conditions for the validity of marriage and obstacles are unfaithful spouses. A fictitious marriage can be grounds for invalidating a marriage contract

Joint possession and settlement needed revival in 2011, yet the Legislator did not do much about it. It took from jurisprudence the regulations regarding joint possession (in the broad sense) and simply built a legal regime that in no way can satisfy the economic and social needs of joint holders. And the possibility to enter a management agreement remains in a very theoretical level that is far from practical reality, where such an agreement between joint owners does not exist. Settlement – the place where joint owners end their joint possession – was the second item that required modifications. In 1864, the Legislator took the declarative effect of settlement from French law without an analysis of its consequences on the economic level. Families were protected, but third parties, holders of real rights on the joint goods were sacrificed. This made settlement unattractive and unwanted. In 2011 the Legislator correctly identified the problem and offered the solution – that had been adopted by the French legislator since 2006, even under the rule of the declarative effect – a real subrogation with a particular title: resettlement of the guarantee on the assigned goods. This is sufficient for the rights of guaranteed creditors to be maintained in all cases. With this, the right of each joint owner to fully and efficiently use his joint ownership right was insured. Was another change in this area needed? Apparently not. Nevertheless the Legislator unexpectedly decided in 2011 to renounce the fiction of the declarative effect. What did it replace it with? The translative effect of Roman law? No! It imagined a new effect of settlement: the constitutive effect. The shock of the change was mainly felt psychologically. At that time, the fiction of the declarative effect corresponded to a psychological perception according to which the heir held the goods directly from the decreased, perception that was well grounded after more than 140 years of existence. Just as the fiction of the declarative effect – in fact a rule born out of conjunction –generated numerous debates over centuries, the new constitutive effect of settlement was had to accept in notary practice. The cause? The fear that the new consequences of the constitutive effect will conflict with the imperative rules of the community of goods in the case of settlement parties who were married on the settlement date. Indeed, any community matrimony regime is able to absorb in the settlement estate any goods purchased or obtained with onerous title by any of the spouses. But, the joint ownership right of settlement was that of an own goods. Moreover, the whole settlement was disputing own rights of the married settlement party. The doctrine limited itself to announcing the introduction of the constitutive effect without building a detailed analysis of its effects on the matrimony regimens. On our part, we suggested, at first an exhaustive analysis of the consequences of the translative and declarative effect of settlement. The purpose was to identify a ‛natural’ legal side of settlement that is its constants. Then we proved that the constitutive effect should be unitarily interpreted and applied. First of all, settlement produces a replacing effect. The share is replaced with an exclusive ownership right. It is natural that the exclusive ownership right obtained by each settlement party has the legal nature of the share it replaces. In the marital community field, this is an own goods of the married settlement party. Then, in case of settlement with allowance – that is expected to generate even more controversies – we have shown that is division does not degenerate settlement in two legal acts: settlement and sale. The settlement party who paid the allowance does not purchase anything; the settlement party receiving the allowance does not sell anything. The Legislators does not authorize such an idea, especially now that we are on the realm of the constitutive effect, where the idea of an exchange between settlement parties is excluded. The constitutive effect of settlement with allowance should be unitarily applied. For the married settlement party, the payment of the allowance represents an obligation to give that has the legal nature of an own obligation. Only its execution is carried out by using common funds of the spouses. And the increase acquiring of the goods is not a purchase in itself as it is made in the same spirit of the replacement effect of the share.

The article discusses ageing and old age in three of George Sand’s texts: Indiana (1832), La Mare au diable (1846) and the first part of the novel Consuelo (1842). I use the first two parts of Pat Thane’s subdivision of age into a corporal, a cultural and a chronological component. In Sand’s fiction, the ageing female body withers, while the male body is worn. There are various reasons behind the decline. If the characters age of worries and trouble, the process can be reversed, and the persons can regain youth – at least partly – when the troubles go away. In a cultural perspective, the living conditions vary substantially between classes, specifically if the characters need to work for their living or not. Among peasants and workers, the tolerance for the age gap between spouses is narrower than in the bourgeoisie. The former risk to encounter poverty and need if the husband grows old sooner than the wife, while an elderly man of the bourgeoisie can marry a young woman in order to preserve her social status. In both classes, characters considered as old, while wise and experienced, do not longer interest anyone. Death is their future, and they ridicule themselves if they initiate long-term projects. Another stereotype, the old fool, appears as well, but in the case of Madame Carjaval, it is a role she plays to protect her niece. Many of the attitudes towards old people still exist today. The main difference vis-à-vis George Sand’s time is that, due to the development of longevity, old age arrives to people later now than in the 19th century.

Three types of myths frequently appearing in contemporary romantic fiction deal with traditional family values, spousal relationships, and love. Several myths belonging to each type are illustrated and analyzed. It is argued that by naturalizing some behaviors and idealizing others, romantic novels not only may indoctrinate their readers with a patriarchal ideology but also may inculcate upon them pathogenic family processes.

ABSTRACTThis study compares the normative expectations of 1315 Québécois survey-takers about the responsibilities of spouses and ex-spouses, on the one hand, and adult children and stepchildren, on the other hand, regarding the support they are to offer an elderly family member with incapacities. The comments of survey-takers in relation to fictional yet concrete scenario descriptions provided a basis with which to identify respondents' expectations along with the social factors surrounding these expectations. The results of this survey suggest that the nature and scale of support-related expectations vary according to the family tie with elderly relative. Expectations toward spouses are high and unmitigated, whereas expectations toward ex-spouses and adult stepchildren appear to be limited. Expectations toward adult children are more pronounced than those exhibited toward stepchildren. Where offspring are specifically concerned, expectations are strongly influenced by the given context; for this category of survey-taker, the demands of support should not interfere with their family life and career.

R.K. Narayan is considered one of the most eminent Indian authors in the English language. Narayan mostly focuses on portraying middle-class folks from Malgudi, a fictional location he created in South India. His writings feature a diverse array of male and female characters. Within each of his novels, there exists a female character that holds a significant role in the narrative. Rosie, in The Guide, is one such female character. She embodies a contemporary woman who is well-educated and driven, who aspires to achieve financial independence based on her own preferences and abilities, despite facing significant sacrifices. Raju's mother and Velan's sister are among the other female characters depicted in the story. Raju's mother embodies the conservative and orthodox ladies who adhere to tradition and culture. She is a conscientious spouse and an affectionate parent. She provides guidance to both Raju and Rosie regarding moral principles and ethical conduct. However, if her advice is ignored, she departs from her residence and accompanies her brother to reside with him. Velan's sister has a little yet significant part in the narrative, as her presence contributes to portraying Raju as a saintly figure. This research aims to investigate this particular component of R.K. in a modest manner. The characterisation of Narayan. Keywords: The role of women, fiction, family, stories, novels, general literature

Oates works have been analyzed in the light of violent literature all around the world; however, they are not scruntizied on account of Žižek’s outstanding ideas. Carrying out extensive research, the researcher highlights the positive outcome of Žižek’s “subjective violence”, “objective violence”, and “systemic violence” (Violence 2) in Oates’ Blonde, Black Water and Rape: A love story.This article argues that the common meaning of violence which according to Cambridge Advanced Learner’s Dictionary is “actions or words are intended to hurt people” is not holistically true about the violence portrayed by Oates in her fiction. She depicts that the violence can save one’s life. The reserach presents the idea that outcome of violence can be a means of success in Oates’ stories. Oates’ optimistic view toward violence and positive effects of violence in the life oppressed characters are presented in this article. The writer of this article has made an attempt to attest positive aftermath of violence and to highlight different sorts of violence in Oates’ fiction by referring to aforementioned Žižek’s ideas on violence. Oates has unfolded “symbolic violence”, “objective violence” and “systemic violence” by illuminating violent language and terror which are held by parents, spouse or friends. Furthermore, Oates foregrounds human’s capability of adapting to new situations to create new identity to cope with difficulties.

The Marriage is the norm of life and living in the family’s embrace under the shade of affection and tranquility is a goal that everyone who takes this step seeks, and the happiness and balance of the family can only be achieved by obtaining what can be achieved from the requirements of a decent life.But not everything that a person wishes to realize, some have intervened Factors and inconveniences make married life impossible to continue, and the most important of these factors, according to a scientific study, is money According to ourIslamic law, the offspring must be legitimate, and this will not happen except through legal marriage, and in the verse it is associated. Money with children because it has a strong influence and a close link to married life, which in turn is considered a partnership between two parties. The spouses may not be successful in completing this partnership, and the matter ends in divorce, and often the woman is forced to demand her legal and material rights. In this research, I will discuss, in particular, the tricks that some lawyers use to make things difficult, or to prevent the divorced woman from having her rights, especially material ones.

Besides “being in love” and procreation, what is the purpose/function of a spouse? In this work of ethical marriage fiction, Sherry’s husband knows too much about her inner thoughts, specifically, that the barista at the local coffee shop is attractive. When Sherry talks to her neighbor, they piece together that she was unknowingly given a M.I.N.D. implant, allowing her husband to read her thoughts. She confronts him and he argues communication is hard, and this makes it easier. Additionally, if she has nothing to hide, then why does she care? In response, she gets a “mind vault” installed, a place to store thoughts and memories from her husband. He finds out, and goes to even more extreme measures to make Sherry compliant.

The article presents an attempt to conduct a systematical study of the typology of female images in the works of Naki Isanbet, the Tatar scholar-encyclopedist, folklorist, critic, and classic of Tatar literature (1899–1992). Published and unpublished sources were used as the research material. Fiction, journalistic, and scientific texts of N. Isanbet have been analysed using the method of semantic analysis, historical and cultural, comparative methods. The author proves that the ideal of a woman of the Enlightenment epoch, i.e. the “mother of the nation”, dominates in the legacy of the scholar who was the classic of the Tatar literature as well. The images of a devoted spouse, a wise mother, a “mother of the nation” can be encountered in his works. The writer defends the ideas of equality of women and men, women’s active participation in public life, etc. in his works of fiction written in various genres throughout the twentieth century. The poetics of female images depends on the requirements of the genre. When developing the images, the writer relies on the traditions of the Tatar folklore and oriental poetry. In his creative legacy, the encyclopedic scholar immortalised dozens of names of the female contemporaries who made a significant contribution to the history of the Tatar people – teachers, actresses, writers, translators, public figures, etc.

In the scientific article the author considers the question of the grounds for the emergence of family relations in the family law doctrine. On the basis of the conducted research in the scientific article it is established that there are the following bases of occurrence of family relations, family rights and duties of participants of these relations: 1) lawful legal actions: the emergence of a de facto marriage; leaving the family in connection with the establishment of a separate residence of the spouses; non-removal of the child from the maternity hospital by the parents; acquisition of property; concluding an agreement between the parents on the child's place of residence; adoption of a child; adoption; state registration of marriage or residence by one family without marriage between the child's father (mother) and stepmother (stepfather); 2) illegal legal actions: marriage to a person who is already married; evasion of alimony; concluding a fictitious marriage; non-fulfillment of the obligation to register the child; nonsupport; refusal to grant permission for the child to go abroad without sufficient grounds; 3) legal actions to achieve the legal consequences of which require compliance with the procedure: marriage, voluntary recognition of paternity, adoption, divorce, marriage contract; 4) legal acts (transactions, including family contracts, administrative acts, including bodies of state registration of civil status, court decisions on granting the right to marry between the adopter's own child and the adopted child, as well as between children who have been adopted court decision to declare the marriage invalid, etc.); 5) legal events: the birth of a child or the death of a person; the child reaches a certain age; declaring a person dead. A variety of legal events in family law are also recognized terms established by law, contract of the parties or court decision; 6) legal status: kinship, kinship, pregnancy, incapacity for work, cohabitation, paternity, etc .; 7) legal fictions: recognition of marriage as invalid or unconcluded; recognition of property acquired during the marriage as joint joint property of the spouses; establishment of the regime of separate residence of the spouses; determining the origin of a child born as a result of the use of assisted reproductive technologies.

Is it cheating if your spouse gives you permission? In this work of philosophical short story fiction, Chloe and Nick agree on a list; they each have five famous people that, if the opportunity arises, they can sleep with. It’s Nick’s idea they have a list, however, it’s Chloe who goes to a concert and meets the lead singer that is on our list. At first, she declines the lead singer’s offer, but opts to continue texting. Eventually, and without telling Nick ahead of time, she spends the night with the lead singer. Wracked with guilt, a few weeks later she tells Nick what happens, and he leaves her, insisting that she did, in fact, cheat on him, as she should have know the whole idea of a list was being done in nothing more than good fun and was not, in fact, a hall pass to cheat.

How many times would you choose to be reborn? How many times would it take to get it right? In this work of philosophical short story fiction, the narrator lives and dies, and after death, sees the option to try living life again. In his first time he kills himself over a failed love. In his next life he chases power. In the next life, fame. The next time he tries the simple life with a spouse, a family, and an otherwise uneventful existence. Each time he lives and dies he is given the choice to try again while keeping the “instinctual memory” of the time before. How many times will he repeat the process when each time seems to give him an unsatisfactory result. Finally, he questions the being he keeps meeting in the afterlife and wonders if, perhaps, it’s not him, but the being, that has to “Play Again.”

Through a sustained close reading of William Makepeace Thackeray's 1855 novel The Newcomes, this essay examines three analogous types of particularity in the novel: the particularity of loved ones in the social network, of fictional persons in the literary work, and of the individual text. Drawing on recent sociological and network readings of Victorian narrative, I argue that Thackeray's plot about relationships in the marriage market is reflected (on the level of form) by the structural relation between characters and text, and (on the level of the reading experience) by the affective engagement of the reader to the novel. As characters encounter problems in replacing old relations (former lovers, deceased spouses, estranged relatives) with new ones, the novel raises analogous questions about the replaceability of characters as textual constructs or fictional persons, and of the novel itself as one experience among multitudes on offer in the nineteenth-century market. A tension between the continual or particular experience of an individual novel and the felt historical pressure of novels en masse registers in the text itself as a formal and narrative problem, one that leads us suggestively toward recent methodological debates about intimate and distant reading.

What causes a person to cheat on their spouse? How do you know if someone is truly repentant for their actions, or if they are only repentant because they were caught? In this philosophical short story fiction, Jacob is in a stable, if unexciting marriage to Dina, the mother of their two children. However, Jacob is also having an affair with the younger Sasha, the neighborhood barista. Jacob feels some guilt for his actions but heads off to meet and have sex, with Sasha on her break. After intercourse she opens his phone and finds out, for the first time, he is married. Sasha tells Jacob he must tell his wife of his infidelity by 4pm, or she will call herself. Jacob rushes home, a truly penitent man, ready to confess his wrongdoing, and beg for forgiveness. However, moments before confessing to his wife, he sees on the news that Sasha has been killed in a car accident.

Abstract Rapid changes in family structures have expanded caregiving boundaries beyond the level of lineal kin to include extended and fictive kin. Guided by stress process and health behavior models, we analyzed semi-structured interviews with 120 family caregivers of persons with dementia (PWD) in rural Appalachia to explore personal/family circumstances that influence the responsibilities nonlineal kin assumed to meet the needs of PwD. Compared to spouse and adult children caregivers, nonlineal caregivers reported that PWD had similar behavioral problems, but greater ADL limitations. They also expressed greater burden, overload and role captivity; yet, they reported higher personal mastery, and perseverance. Although sisters and nieces did not report using any paid services to care for PwD, grandchildren and fictive kin used paid services such as meal delivery, personal care, and respite services. Findings provide new insights into a more elaborated conception of caregiving that considers the transformations occurring in family life today.

Abstract: In 1875, Parisian daily Le Figaro introduced a personal advertising column called the petite correspondance , which allowed people to write to each other using the newspaper as mediator, avoiding home addresses and the watchful parents or spouses who lived at them. The often-amorous exchanges this facilitated, some fictional (commissioned by the newspaper to entice readers), some real, drew on older forms, such as epistolary novels. In this way, they catered to readers' established taste for voyeurism while drawing them into a new erotic temporality, as these notes were simultaneously exchanged and voyeuristically read. Created in the very years that witnessed the conception of laws granting press freedom and setting the stage for a redefinition of "pornography," the section brought together press and sexuality in novel ways, laying the groundwork for the forms of voyeuristic reading and exhibitionist living we—through social media—are steeped in today.

Employing the distinction between explicit and implicit rules as formulated by psychoanalytic theorist and philosopher Slavoj Žižek, this article examines the way in which challenges toward an initial rule-based fantasy take place within transnational families. In particular, the article employs an implicit, unwritten rules framework to assess the effect of transpacific migration on the institution of family within the Chinese American diaspora as represented in post-World War II fiction by Asian Pacific authors C.Y. Lee and Shawn Wong. Suggesting five implicit rules underpinning Chinese American families, the article examines Lee’s The Flower Drum Songto highlight early challenges to these rules before finding in Wong’s Homebasean unflinching adherence to an implicit rule concerning reverence for ancestors. Wong has the advantage of writing in the wake of the 1965 Immigration and Nationality Act and of being in a position to trace more and more challenges to the initial fantasy following later waves of transpacific migration. His novel American Kneesis then shown to epitomize the implicit rules being stretched almost to breaking point as, for instance, the criteria for spouse selection becomes no longer Chinese or partially Chineseor even Asian or partially Asian but Americanization.

This study examined attitudes toward suicide survivors. Two variables were assessed: the impact of information on attitudes toward suicide survivors and whether the survivor's relationship to the victim affects the attitudes of others towards the survivor. Sixty participants responded to one of three fictional case histories that described a child's suicide, a spouse's suicide, or a parent's suicide. Prior to reading case vignettes, thirty of the participants read an article about suicide; the other thirty read death-related but not suicide-related materials. Results indicated that suicide information did not affect attitudes toward survivors. Further results indicated that reactions to suicide survivors are generally negative and the relationship of survivors to victims affects these reactions. Children of victims were seen least negatively; parents of a child who died by suicide received the most negative reactions.

Tobit was written around the third century B.C. It is considered canonical by the Catholics and the Orthodox believers, but not by Protestants and the Jews. The story is not historical but fictional, with a very dynamic narrative, containing numerous lessons in the spirit of the OT, particularly those relating to Deuteronomy theology. The central theme of the book is marriage and the ideal marriage is portrayed in terms of physical purity, struggling against lust, faithfulness, monogamy, and the permanence of the marriage covenant. It is pointed out in many places that love, fondness, and consideration are necessary for a successful marriage. Another important condition is the endogamy of marriage, so that the spouses would be able to keep and practice their faith more easily. And finally, prayer as the expression of trust in God is posited as the foundation of a marriage whose purpose transcends the erotic and procreative functions and emphasis is also placed on the importance of consecration. So in a fun way, Tobit offers a moral lesson which ties in with Biblical morality.

"Yasmine Chami’s fictional work is made of the meticulous exploration of the sphere of the intimate in the manner of a caving of the consciousness of being in the world. A narrative motif in particular comes off for the systematic nature of its occurrences, that of abandonment (of the woman by her spouse). This leitmotiv strikingly crystallizes the fragility of couple bonds and inevitably induces a profound questioning of the relationships between women and men and the representations that underlie them. In order to shed new light on the life path of her heroines, the author mobilizes a multifaceted imagination. In the present study, the focus will be primarily on the ingenious use she makes of storytelling and mythology as major narrative springs which allow the work to unfold simultaneously on the intimate and the universal level."

The struggle for Indian independence spanned nearly a century and was an epic endeavor. The winds of change that swept across the Indian subcontinent after the 'Sepoy' Mutiny in 1857 left lasting imprints on the political and social landscape. The Indian nation had to overcome centuries of lethargy, transcend religious, caste, and provincial divisions, and move forward on the path of progress. This transformation occurred with the onset of the Gandhian movement, which disrupted established political and social norms, introducing innovative ideas and methods. Mahatma Gandhi's relentless pursuit of freedom marked significant milestones such as the non-violent non-cooperation movement of 1920-22, the civil disobedience movement of 1930-31, and the Quit India movement of 1942. The non-violent non-cooperation movement triggered an unparalleled awakening, shifting Indian nationalism from a "middle-class movement" to a widespread emotional movement. An exploration of Nahal's fiction reveals his alignment with the humanistic tradition pioneered by Anand in the thirties and carried forward by Bhabani Bhattacharya and Kamala Markandaya in the fifties and sixties. Nahal's themes encompass tradition versus Westernization, spousal relationships, internationalism, East-West interactions, satire on anglicized Indians, the three phases of India's epic struggle for freedom, the partition of India into India and Muslim Pakistan, and the resulting agony for millions on both sides of the border.

The purpose of this study was to investigate the use of cultural evidence toward an automatism defense, and whether such evidence would be detrimental or beneficial to a male versus a female defendant. U.S. participants ( N = 208), recruited via Amazon’s Mechanical Turk, read a fictional spousal homicide case in which the defendant claimed to have blacked out during the crime. We manipulated the gender of the defendant and whether a culture-specific issue was claimed to have precipitated the defendant’s blackout. ANOVAs revealed that cultural evidence positively affected perceived credibility for the female defendant, whereas there were no differences for the male defendant. Results also demonstrated that when cultural evidence was presented, the female defendant was seen as less in control of her actions than was the male defendant. Furthermore, lower credibility and higher perceived defendant control predicted harsher verdict decisions. This investigation may aid scholars in discussing concerns regarding a clash between multicultural and feminist objectives in the courtroom.

The current study represents a first attempt at examining the neural basis of dramatic acting. While all people play multiple roles in daily life—for example, ‘spouse' or ‘employee'—these roles are all facets of the ‘self' and thus of the first-person (1P) perspective. Compared to such everyday role playing, actors are required to portray other people and to adopt their gestures, emotions and behaviours. Consequently, actors must think and behave not as themselves but as the characters they are pretending to be. In other words, they have to assume a ‘fictional first-person' (Fic1P) perspective. In this functional MRI study, we sought to identify brain regions preferentially activated when actors adopt a Fic1P perspective during dramatic role playing. In the scanner, university-trained actors responded to a series of hypothetical questions from either their own 1P perspective or from that of Romeo (male participants) or Juliet (female participants) from Shakespeare's drama. Compared to responding as oneself, responding in character produced global reductions in brain activity and, particularly, deactivations in the cortical midline network of the frontal lobe, including the dorsomedial and ventromedial prefrontal cortices. Thus, portraying a character through acting seems to be a deactivation-driven process, perhaps representing a ‘loss of self'.

Shortly before C. R. Ashbee transplanted a hundred and fifty Cockneys to Chipping Campden, Gloucestershire, in 1902 to form a utopian arts-and-crafts community, two other back-to-the-land settlements were also established, one located outside the market town of Stroud, a mere bicycle ride away from Ashbee and his guild. These Tolstoyan colonies – Purleigh, founded in 1896 in Essex, and Whiteway, founded in 1898 in the Cotswolds – fostered goals of fellowship and the simplification of life, as had been modeled by Henry Thoreau, Ralph Waldo Emerson, and Walt Whitman in the United States and Edward Carpenter in Britain. Yet, whereas Ashbee was inspired by the model of William Morris and nostalgia for a pre-industrial England, English Tolstoyans looked not to craft, but to a less Aesthetic “bread labor” as a respite from modernity's corruption. Visiting Whiteway in 1904, Ashbee observed the Tolstoyans’ struggles to live off the land and commented, “they hold the other end of the stick we are ourselves shaping at Campden” (qtd. in MacCarthy 100). As his metaphor implied, both groups shared utopian aspirations, but Whiteway's settlers had sought the perfection of life from another vantage point and through other means. Ashbee regarded the austerity of their lives with distance and, as we will see, even with some distaste. Nevertheless, some features of the guildsmen's lifestyle at Chipping Campden mirrored those at Whiteway. This essay uses memoirs and fictions by C. R. Ashbee, his spouse, Janet Ashbee, and the Tolstoyans to disentangle the threads of “Aestheticism” and “simplification,” and to mark places of their conflation.

Abstract Transportation serves a basic human need for older adults and is firmly linked to independence, quality of life, and access to essential services (e.g., medical, nutritional, social). The matter of transportation and driving reduction/cessation is especially challenging in regard to people with Alzheimer’s and related dementias (ADRD). Many individuals with ADRD rely on cohabitating caregiver(s) (e.g., spouse, partner, adult children) to arrange and execute essential transportation needs. However, little is known about how individuals with ADRD who reside alone in the community navigate required transportation. In order to address this gap in the literature, this paper combines narrative data from two ongoing National Institutes of Health (NIH)-funded interview-based protocols that focus on understanding the needs of community-dwelling older adults with ADRD and a collateral informant (N=84). Interview data underwent thematic analyses. Findings indicate four overarching themes: 1. Nuances of ridesharing apps, 2. Family/fictive kin transportation network(s), 3. Unpredictable public transportation, 4. Unmet needs exacerbated by inadequate transportation, and 5. Balancing driving autonomy and risk of harm to self/others. These thematic illations have implications to assist development of strategies for continued mobility and appropriate access to required services for those who reside alone with ADRD, despite changing needs and capabilities. Historically, the focus on transportation among those with ADRD has centered on those with a cohabitating caregiver, however, our findings provide insights into the nuances of how this understudied subpopulation with ADRD experience and navigate their mobility needs.

The article deals with inceptive constructions in Lithuanian in a systemic way. In the article a thorough overview of eighteen Lithuanian verbs taking infinitives as their complements is given. They are (given in the preterital form): pradėjo, ėmė (‘started’; ‘began’); puolė, šoko, metėsi (orig. ‘rushed at, to’; ‘jum- ped forward’); suskato, suskubo, sukruto, subruzdo, sujudo (orig. ‘stirred’; ‘moved’; ‘bustled up’); prapliupo, pratrūko (orig. ‘burst’; ‘broke open’; ‘gushed’; ‘spouted’), pasiuto and (synonymous with it) pašėlo (orig. ‘went mad’; ‘got furious’); leidosi, pasileido (orig. ‘let, allowed, permitted oneself’); griebėsi (/ griebė), kibo (orig. ‘grasp’; ‘get hold of’). When used in a construction with the infinitive, these verbs serve the grammatical function of inceptive markers designating the beginning (or start) of an infinitival event. They thus belong to the family of so-called phasal verbs, and the constructions they underlie are phasal constructions. They are, however, scarcely recognized as such (maybe except for the pradėjo and ėmė constructions with infinitive) in traditional Lithuanian lexicography. A construction grammar approach to the phenomenon of the phasal complementation allows us to treat the inceptive constructions under discussion uniformly, as members of the same grammatical category, and the verbs mentioned above, when serving as inceptive markers of the infinitival event, can reasonably go under separate senses in dictionary entries, especially in the cases when the inceptive constructions these verbs underlie are well entrenched in language usage. As inceptive markers, the verbs listed above are in different stages of grammaticalization. As can be seen from their original meanings, these inceptive markers were grammaticalized from various lexical sources (resp. source constructions). Many of them still preserve, to a different extent, a vestige of the previous meanings they had in the source constructions. For instance, the inceptive markers puolė, šoko, metėsi, leidosi, pasileido are, in some syntactic contexts, still reminiscent of motion verbs. Accordingly, the range of lexical types of infinitival complements such a “semi-grammaticalized” inceptive marker selects for is to some degree determined by its inherited semantics (backward pull; Traugott 2008, 34). Or, to put it in other words, the inceptive constructions headed by such verbs form their own specific designation zones, or niches (they can overlap more or less, according to the semantic similarity of the head verbs). It goes without discussion that the main inceptive markers in Lithuania are the verbs pradėjo and ėmė: they are the most desemanticized lexemes in the list and can have the widest range of lexical types of infinitives as their complements. Both of these verbs can designate the beginning of not only voluntary but involuntary infinitival events as well. The remaining verbs in the list mostly presuppose agentive, intentional referents as their subjects. Exceptions here are the verbs prapliupo, pratrūko and pasiuto, pašėlo which designate the beginning of spontaneous, uncontrolled events. Except for pradėjo and ėmė, which are indifferent in this respect, other inceptive markers in the list designate the beginning of intensive, energetic infinitival events. According to their inherited semantics (or the semantics developed in the course of grammaticalization) all inceptive markers in the list can be divided into minor groups. The members of these groups, with respect to infinitival complementation (resp. designation tendencies) share with each other one or another common feature. From a cognitive linguistics perspective all these head verbs can be seen as members of the same grammatical category (that of the inceptive markers) interconnected with each other in a network according to the principle of Ludwig Wittgenstein’s (1958) family resemblances. The fact that in some neutral contexts these verbs can, in their inceptive function, be used interchangeably, gives us empirical grounds to state that the corresponding inceptive constructions share the same schematic meaning. This fact, following William Croft’s (2001, 18) conventions, can formally be represented as a form-meaning pairing: [[HeadV CompVINF] [process inception]]. Of course, the schematic meaning of the category of inceptive constructions is best instantiated by its prototypical members headed by the verbs pradėjo and ėmė. These verbs, correspondingly, take the highest position on the prototypicality scale of the inceptive markers. As the semantic analysis of the data in the samples compiled from the Corpus of Modern Lithuanian shows, even the inceptive constructions headed by the same verb represent different stages of grammaticalization. For example, even some constructions of the verb puolė with infinitive (as a quantitative analysis of the Corpus data shows, this inceptive marker takes third place on the prototypicality scale, just after the verbs pradėjo and ėmė) may be, without sufficient context, ambiguous between intentional and inceptive readings, the former being inherited from the source construction. The probability of the intentional reading is higher when the verb (which happens rarely) selects for the perfective infinitive, but in some cases such a reading is still an option in the default cases of the construction when the verb selects for the imperfective infinitive. From the emergent grammar (Hopper 2011, 26–29) perspective, adopted in the article, all such “semi-grammaticalized” cases in the samples can reasonably be seen as instantiations of the category of inceptive constructions along with its more grammaticalized instances. In overviewing in detail the semantic distribution of the inceptive markers in the list, each within the group of its closest semantic allies, an attempt was made to establish their source constructions and to trace their potential paths of grammaticalization. For instance, the verbs puolė and šoko are originally typical motion predicates designating rushing at, to or jumping forward (from the rest position) of the subject referent. Correspondingly, the source constructions of the inceptive constructions headed by these verbs are motion constructions and, importantly, their structural extension with infinitive gives rise to purpose constructions, where the added infinitive expresses the purpose of the motion. The latter could easily be reanalyzed into the corresponding inceptive constructions. Naturally, the verbs puolė and šoko first of all develop their inceptive marker function in the construction with infinitives designating quick and energetic movement, such as running, pursuing, or chasing. The next stop on the path of grammaticalization of the inceptive constructions these verbs underlie is when their infinitival complements designate events that imply motion (for example, puolė ieškoti (ko nors) ‘started (lit. rushed) to search (for somebody or something)’) or just presuppose it. In the latter case, in the frame of the infinitive, a motion of the subject referent towards the place where she starts (or intends to start) the infinitival event is presupposed (for example, Jis puolė (ką) mušti ‘He started (lit. rushed) to beat (somebody)’). In all these cases the inherited motion component in the semantics of the head verbs of the inceptive constructions is supported by the very semantics of its infinitives, it is more or less present. In the routine of usage, though, this presupposed motion of the subject referent towards the destination can easily be conceived subjectively by the speaker (/ hearer) (when she covers the distance only in her mind). Through this cognitive mechanism, called subjectification by Ronald Langacker (2000, 297–315), the motion component in the semantics of the head verbs is backgrounded and, respectively, their grammatical function (that of the inceptive markers) is foregrounded. Thus, in the constructions of this kind their head verbs, originating as the motion predicates, are prepared to take as their infinitival complements lexical types that have nothing to do with the concept of motion. For instance, they can designate the begin- ning of the verbal event, as in Ji puolė jo klausinėti ‘She started to interrogate him’. Such instances represent the last stage of the grammaticalization of the inceptive markers under discussion. As it is revealed in the article, subjectification took part in the processes of grammaticalization of some other Lithuanian inceptive marker as well. In this respect other cognitive devices, such as conceptual metaphor or / and metonymy, are also worth mentioning. For instance, they played a significant role in the adaptation of the verbs prapliupo and pratrūko, originally designating phenomena of the physical world, to designate outburst of some emo- tion, such as joy (for example, Ji prapliupo juoktis ‘She began (lit. burst) to laugh / laughing’), sadness (for example, Ji pratrūko verkti ‘She began (lit. burst) to cry / crying’) or anger (for example, Jis prapliupo keiktis ‘He began (lit. burst) to swear / swearing’). In the article the judgments about the entrenchment of the Lithuanian inceptive markers in the language usage were substantiated by quantitative analysis of the data extracted from the Corpus of Modern Lithuanian (one may reasonably assume that the entrenchment of such functional words is indicative of their gram- maticalization). These judgments, as was mentioned above, are of importance for lexicographical practice. The samples for the quantitative analysis were mainly compiled from the fiction register of the Corpus that is in many respects reminiscent of the spoken language. In some cases, though, the relevant data from the mass media register of the Corpus were added. For these samples only inceptive constructions with preterital forms of their head verbs were picked out from the register (or registers), as they are assumed to be the most representative of the narrative contexts characteristic of the Corpus. The judgments on the entrenchment of the inceptive markers were mainly based on the number of hits of the constructions they underlie in the register. Additionally, in some cases the productivity indexes for the corresponding construction types were calculated. The productivity index consists of the number of hapaxes (lexical types of infinitival complements that occur only once in the sample) divided by the total number of those lexical types here — it characterizes the extensibility of the construction type. Thus understood, the productivity of the construction type is expected to correlate with the entrenchment of its head verb in language usage. Because of the lack of the data in the Corpus, though, in most cases (except for the inceptive constructions headed by the verbs pradėjo, ėmė and puolė) one cannot compile reliable samples from the same and a sufficient number (for example, 100) of running lines featuring the construction types under discussion, so as to get productivity indexes for these construction types that might have comparability value. So, in the judgments on the entrenchment of the inceptive markers the productivity indexes for the corresponding construction types played only a subsidiary role in most cases.

This essay explores one of the distinctive features of Western Christian thought in the Middle Ages: medieval canon lawyers’ highly abstract and legalistic treatment of sexual intercourse within marriage, a product of their efforts to give legal meaning to the biblical injunction that spouses “shall be one flesh.” It does so by describing the lawyers’ development of a ius in corpus, a right of each spouse to the body of the other for the purpose of sexual intercourse. The canon lawyers treat the ius in corpus as a property right: either as one spouse’s ownership of the other’s body or as a real servitude--a type of easement--that the body of one spouse holds over the body of the other. Moreover, a spouse can demand that “possession” of that right be restored to him or her by court order. The canon lawyers’ reasoning “purifies” marital sex of its concrete, physical features and instead transforms it into a legal act that reifies the fiction of the one marital flesh.

Although women have been continuously ordained as rabbis since 1972, fictional depictions of these women rabbis did not appear for several years. Now, some five decades on, there are over four dozen works of fiction that mention women rabbis. As in real life these rabbis lead congregations and work in the wider community. This article surveys the fictional descriptions of women rabbis. Those rabbis are compared and contrasted with some data concerning real-life women rabbis. There are six sections: “The development of women rabbis as fictional characters;” “An overview of the presence and professional choices of fictional women rabbis”; “Balance, Intimacy, and Empowerment”; “Encountering God”; “Coping with double standards and harassment”; and “Rabbinic spouses/partners.”

Externalising can be useful in addressing conflict in relationships. It can provide space for deconstruction, the consideration of shared values and new meaning-making. It also avoids the labelling and deficit identity conclusions that can accompany internalised accounts. This audio practice note describes an emerging practice for working with couples experiencing conflict: using an artificial intelligence tool to generate science fiction stories to support the externalising of a problem and open space for reauthoring conversations. Andrea Ng Siu Har shares her work with Amy (pseudonym), whose husband valued punctuality while Amy preferred to prioritise being relaxed over arriving on time. As part of a playful enquiry into this cultural difference between the spouses, Andrea and Amy prompted ChatGPT to produce a science fiction story about daily life on a planet whose inhabitants were always late. As well as being funny and resonant, the resulting story helped to elicit Amys own values and to identify skills she had developed, including being able to remain calm and work quickly under pressure. It also prompted discussion of the family history of these skills and values. A subsequent AI story about a planet whose inhabitants were impatient facilitated insight into Amys husbands perspective, and prompted conversations about shared values and the work of achieving mutual understanding, accommodation and harmony. Andrea also shares some cautions for working with AI in this way, and emphasizes the importance of keeping the person, and their knowledge and preferences, at the Centre

With an eye to joining literary and family history, this article examines Boccaccio's role in consolidating a new genre regarding the struggles of young people to choose their own paths against the constraints of paternal authority. In works of fiction, humanist scholarship, and biography, Boccaccio portrayed the struggle for filial freedom, both in terms of his own vocational aspirations as a young poet and in the struggle of young women to assert their freedom in the choice of spouse or vocation.

Abstract In the 18th-19th-century ‘criminal conversation’ legal action, a spouse could sue his wife’s lover for economic compensation. The wife was not party to the action, even though she was implicitly ‘on trial’. This article argues that the absence of the wife’s perspective permitted the court to manipulate her image conservatively and enabled English Marriage Law to evade enlightenment pressure for reform. The counter-pressure she may have exerted is deflected elsewhere. This article shows that women’s private defences could infiltrate the public imagination obliquely, if not the legal process directly, using as examples three very different letters: a purloined love letter from an adulterous wife, a fictional letter of frank testimony from Wollstonecraft’s Maria, and a forensic analysis under a masculine pseudonym from an indignant ‘victim’.

In this study, Ankara, which is one of the important works of Turkish literature in the Republican period, has been considered as a utopia and it is aimed to be written, by those who are members of the Kadro Movement including Yakup Kadri along with characters and the story meeting for its storyline, to discuss, have it sense and hear out political issues whose purposes are to direct Turkish Revolution. To make it more specific, Lady Selma, who is the protagonist of the novel, has been allegorically associated either with her home country or the Turkish government. Moreover, her last spouse Mr. Neşet Sabit has also been allegorically associated with the members of Kadro magazine. It has been emphasized that the intellectual discussion environment of the period in which the Ankara novel was written has an important place in Turkish literature in terms of handling it in a literary work. In order to reach these inferences, firstly, the concepts of utopia and political utopia has been briefly discussed along with the historical reasons and facts in the emergence of the Kadro Movement and its product Kadro magazine. As a result of these, the basic elements of the Kadro Movement ideology has been summarized. Finally, the suggestion that there is a relationship between the utopia fiction and the ideology of the Kadro, which Yakup Kadri, one of the representatives of the movement, revealed in his novel Ankara, is supported by the quotations from the third part of the novel.

Introduction: Latinas with breast cancer draw on a diverse range of family members for informal care. Latin cultures typically prescribe high levels of support and care for an ill family member that leave caregivers vulnerable to compromised well-being. Method: In this cross-sectional survey study, 258 family caregivers of Latinas with breast cancer completed reports of psychological distress, availability of social support, and acculturation. Results: Mothers who provide care to a daughter with breast cancer experience higher levels of psychological distress and report lower availability of informational support than most other types of family caregivers. Mothers’ lower levels of acculturation may at least partially explain these reductions in well-being. Discussion: This study highlights the diverse range of family and fictive kin who participate in family caregiving for Latina breast cancer survivors. Spousal caregivers may not represent a unique population, whereas mothers as caregivers are indeed distinct for their higher distress levels.

Introduction This article aims to explore some of the ideological discourses that reinforce marriage as a central social and cultural institution in US-American society. Andrew Cherlin argues that despite social secularisation, rising divorce rates and the emergence of other, alternative forms of love and living, marriage “remains the most highly valued form of family life in American culture, the most prestigious way to live your life” (9). Indeed, marriage in the US has become an ideological and political battlefield, with charged debates about who is entitled to this form of state-sanctioned relationship, with the government spending large sums of money to promote the value of marriage and the highest number of people projected to get married (nearly 90 per cent of all people) compared to other Western nations (Cherlin 4). I argue here that the idea of marriage as the ideal form for an intimate relationship permeates US-American culture to an extent that we can speak of a marital hegemony. This hegemony is fuelled by and reflected in the saturation of American popular culture with celebratory depictions of the white wedding as public performance and symbolic manifestation of the values associated with marriage. These depictions contribute to the discursive production of weddings as “one of the major events that signal readiness and prepare heterosexuals for membership in marriage as an organizing practice for the institution of marriage” (Ingraham 4). From the representation of weddings as cinematic climax in a huge number of films, to TV shows such as The Bachelor, Bridezillas and Race to the Altar, to the advertisement industry and the bridal magazines that construct the figure of the bride as an ideal that every girl and woman should aspire to, popular discourses promote the desirability of marriage in a wide range of media spheres. These representations, which I call bridal fictions, do not only shape and regulate the production of gendered, raced, classed and sexual identities in the media in fundamental ways. They also promote the idea that marriage is the only adequate framework for an intimate relationship and for the constitution of an acceptable gendered identity, meanwhile reproducing heterosexuality as norm and monogamy as societal duty. Thus I argue that we can understand contemporary bridal fictions as a symbolic legitimation of marital hegemony that perpetuates the idea that “lifelong marriage is a moral imperative” (Coontz 292). Marital Hegemony By drawing on Gramsci’s term and argument of cultural hegemony, I propose that public, political, religious and popular discourses work together in intersecting, overlapping, ideologically motivated and often even contradictory ways to produce what can be conceptualised as marital hegemony. Gramsci understands the relationship between state coercion and legitimation as crucial to an understanding of constituted consensus and co-operation. By legitimation Gramsci refers to processes through which social elites constitute their leadership through the universalizing of their own class-based self-interests. These self-interests are adopted by the greater majority of people, who apprehend them as natural or universal standards of value (common sense). This ‘hegemony’ neutralizes dissent, instilling the values, beliefs and cultural meanings into the generalized social structures. (Lewis 76-77)Marital hegemony also consists of those two mechanisms, coercion and legitimation. Coercion by the social elites, in this case by the state, is conducted through intervening in the private life of citizens in order to regulate and control their intimate relationships. Through the offering of financial benefits, medical insurance, tax cuts and various other privileges to married partners only (see Ingraham 175-76), the state withholds these benefits from all those that do not conform to this kind of state-sanctioned relationship. However, this must serve as the topic of another discussion, as this paper is more interested in the second aspect of hegemony, the symbolic legitimation. Symbolic legitimation works through the depiction of the white wedding as the occasion on which entering the institution of marriage is publicly celebrated and marital identity is socially validated. Bridal fictions work on a semiotic and symbolic level to display and perpetuate the idea of marriage as the most desirable and ultimately only legitimate form of intimate, heterosexual relationships. This is not to say that there is no resistance to this form of hegemony, as Foucault argues, eventually there is no “power without resistances” (142). However, as Engstrom contends, contemporary bridal fictions “reinforce and endorse the idea that romantic relationships should and must lead to marriage, which requires public display—the wedding” (3). Thus I argue that we can understand contemporary bridal fictions as one key symbolic factor in the production of marital hegemony. The ongoing centrality of marriage as an institution finds its reflection, as Otnes and Pleck argue, in the fact that the white wedding, in spite of all changes and processes of liberalisation in regard to gender, family and sexuality, “remains the most significant ritual in contemporary culture” (5). Accordingly, popular culture, reflective as well as constitutive of existing cultural paradigms, is saturated with what I have termed here bridal fictions. Bridal representations have been subject to rigorous academic investigation (c.f. Currie, Geller, Bambacas, Boden, Otnes and Pleck, Wallace and Howard). But, by using the term “bridal fictions”, I seek to underscore the fictional nature of these apparent “representations”, emphasising their role in producing pervasive utopias, rather than representing reality. This is not to say that bridal fictions are solely fictive. In fact, my argument here is that these bridal fictions do have discursive influence on contemporary wedding culture and practices. With my analysis of a bridal advertisement campaign later on in this paper, I aim to show exemplarily how bridal fictions work not only in perpetuating marriage, monogamy and heteronormativity as central organizing principles of intimate life. But moreover, how bridal fictions use this framework to promote certain kinds of white, heterosexual, upper-class identities that normatively inform our understanding of who is seen as entitled to this form of state-sanctioned relationship. Furthermore my aim is to highlight the role of postfeminist frames in sustaining marital hegemony. Second Wave feminism, seeing marriage as a form of “intimate colonization” (in Finlay and Clarke 416), has always been one of the few sources of critique in regard to this institution. In contrast, postfeminist accounts, now informing a significant amount of contemporary bridal fictions, evoke marriage as actively chosen, unproblematic and innately desired state of being for women. By constructing the liberated, self-determined figure of the postfeminist bride, contemporary bridal fictions naturalise and re-modernise marriage as framework for the constitution of modern feminine identity. An analysis of postfeminist bridal identities, as done in the following, is thus vital to my argument, because it highlights how postfeminist accounts deflect feminism’s critique of marriage as patriarchal, political and hegemonic institution and hence contribute to the perpetuation and production of marital hegemony. The Postfeminist Bride Postfeminism has emerged since the early 1990s as the dominant mode of constructing femininities in the media. Angela McRobbie understands postfeminism as “to refer to an active process by which feminist gains of the 1970s and 80s come to be undermined”, while simultaneously appearing to be “a well-informed and even well-intended response to feminism” (“Postfeminism” 255). Based on the assumption that women nowadays are no longer subjected to patriarchal power structures anymore, postfeminism actively takes feminism into account while, at the same time, “undoing” it (McRobbie “Postfeminism” 255). In contemporary postfeminist culture, feminism is “decisively aged and made to seem redundant”, which allows a conscious “dis-identification” and/or “forceful non-identity” with accounts of Second Wave feminism (McRobbie Aftermath 15). This demarcation from earlier forms of feminism is particularly evident with regard to marriage and wedding discourses. Second wave feminist critics such as Betty Friedan (1973) and Carole Pateman were critical of the influence of marriage on women’s psychological, financial and sexual freedom. This generation of feminists saw marriage as a manifestation of patriarchal power, which is based on women’s total emotional and erotic loyalty and subservience (Rich 1980), as well as on “men’s domination over women, and the right of men to enjoy equal sexual access to women” (Pateman 1988 2). In contrast, contemporary postfeminism enunciates now that “equality is achieved, in order to install a whole repertoire of new meanings which emphasise that it [feminism] is no longer needed, it is a spent force” (McRobbie “Postfeminism” 255). Instead of seeing marriage as institutionlised subjugation of women, the postfeminist generation of “educated women who have come of age in the 1990s feel that the women’s liberation movement has achieved its goals and that marriage is now an even playing field in which the two sexes operate as equal partners” (Geller 110). As McRobbie argues “feminism was anti-marriage and this can now to be shown to be great mistake” (Aftermath 20). Accordingly, postfeminist bridal fictions do not depict the bride as passive and waiting to be married, relying on conservative and patriarchal notions of hegemonic femininity, but as an active agent using the white wedding as occasion to act out choice, autonomy and power. Genz argues that a characteristic of postfemininities is that they re-negotiate femininity and feminism no longer as mutually exclusive and irreconcilable categories, but as constitutive of each other (Genz; Genz and Brabon). What I term the postfeminist bride embodies this shifted understanding of feminism and femininity. The postfeminist bride is a figure that is often celebrated in terms of individual freedom, professional success and self-determination, instead of resting on traditional notions of female domesticity and passivity. Rather than fulfilling clichés of the homemaker and traditional wife, the postfeminist bride is characterised by an emphasis on power, agency and pleasure. Characteristic of this figure, as with other postfemininities in popular culture, is a simultaneous appropriation and repudiation of feminist critique. Within postfeminist bridal culture, the performance of traditional femininity through the figure of the bride, or by identification with it, is framed in terms of individual choice, depicted as standing outside of the political and ideological struggles surrounding gender, equality, class, sexuality and race. In this way, as Engstrom argues, “bridal media’s popularity in the late 20th and early 21st centuries in the United States as indicative of a postfeminist cultural environment” (18). And although the contemporary white wedding still rests on patriarchal traditions that symbolise what the Second Wave called an “intimate colonization” (such as the bride’s vow of obedience; the giving away of the bride by one male chaperone, her father, to the next, the husband; her loss of name in marriage etc.), feminist awareness of the patriarchal dimensions of marriage and the ritual of the wedding is virtually absent from contemporary bridal culture. Instead, the patriarchal customs of the white wedding are now actively embraced by the women themselves in the name of tradition and choice. This reflects a prevailing characteristic of postfeminism, which is a trend towards the reclamation of conservative ideals of femininity, following the assumption that the goals of traditional feminist politics have been attained. This recuperation of traditional forms of femininity is one key characteristic of postfeminist bridal culture, as Engstrom argues: “bridal media collectively have become the epitomic example of women’s culture, a genre of popular culture that promotes, defends, and celebrates femininity” (21). Bridal fictions indeed produce traditional femininity by positioning the cultural, social and historical significance of the wedding as a necessary rite of passage for women and as the most important framework for the constitution of their (hetero)sexual, classed and gendered identities. Embodied in its ritual qualities, the white wedding symbolises the transition of women from single to belonging, from girlhood to womanhood and implicitly from childlessness to motherhood. However, instead of seeing this form of hegemonic femininity as a product of unequal, patriarchal power relations as Second Wave did, postfeminism celebrates traditional femininity in modernised versions. Embracing conservative feminine roles (e.g. that of the bride/wife) is now a matter of personal choice, individuality and freedom, characterised by awareness, knowingness and sometimes even irony (McRobbie “Postfeminism”). Nevertheless, the wedding is not only positioned as the pinnacle of a monogamous, heterosexual relationship, but also as the climax of a (female) life-story (“the happiest day of the life”). Combining feminist informed notions of power and choice, the postfeminist wedding is constructed as an event which supposedly enables women to act out those notions, while serving as a framework for gendered identity formation and self-realisation within the boundaries of an officialised and institutionalised relationship. “Modern” Brides I would like to exemplarily illustrate how postfeminism informs contemporary bridal fictions by analysing an advertising campaign of the US bridal magazine Modern Bride that paradigmatically and emblematically shows how postfeminist frames are used to construct the ‘modern’ bride. These advertisements feature American celebrities Guiliana Rancic (“host of E! News”), Daisy Fuentes (“host of Ultimate Style”) and Layla Ali, (“TV host and world champion”) stating why they qualify as a “modern bride”. Instead of drawing on notions of passive femininity, these advertisements have a distinct emphasis on power and agency. All advertisements include the women’s profession and other accomplishments. Rancic claims that she is a modern bride because: “I chased my career instead of guys.” These advertisements emphasise choice and empowerment, the key features of postfeminism, as Angela McRobbie (“Postfeminism”) and Rosalind Gill argue. Femininity, feminism and professionalism here are not framed as mutually exclusive, but are reconciled in the identity of the “modern” bride. Marriage and the white wedding are clearly bracketed in a liberal framework of individual choice, underpinned by a grammar of self-determination and individualism. Layla Ali states that she is a modern bride: “Because I refuse to let anything stand in the way of my happiness.” This not only communicates the message that happiness is intrinsically linked to marriage, but clearly resembles the figure that Sharon Boden terms the “super bride”, a role which allows women to be in control of every aspect of their wedding and “the heroic creator of her big day” while being part of a fairy-tale narrative in which they are the centre of attention (74). Agency and power are clearly visible in all of these ads. These brides are not passive victims of the male gaze, instead they are themselves gazing. In Rancic’s advertisement this is particularly evident, as she is looking directly at the viewer, where her husband, looking into another direction, remains rather face- and gazeless. This is in accord with bridal fictions in general, where husbands are often invisible, serving as bystanders or absent others, reinforcing the ideal that this is the special day of the bride and no one else. Furthermore, all of these advertisements remain within the limited visual repertoire that is common within bridal culture: young to middle-aged, heterosexual, able-bodied, conventionally attractive women. The featuring of the non-white bride Layla Ali is a rare occasion in contemporary bridal fictions. And although this can be seen as a welcomed exception, this advertisement remains eventually within the hegemonic and racial boundaries of contemporary bridal fictions. As Ingraham argues, ultimately “the white wedding in American culture is primarily a ritual by, for, and about the white middle to upper classes. Truly, the white wedding” (33). Furthermore, these advertisements illustrate another key feature of bridal culture, the “privileging of white middle- to upper-class heterosexual marriage over all other forms” (Ingraham 164). Semiotically, the discussed advertisements reflect the understanding of the white wedding as occasion to perform a certain classed identity: the luscious white dresses, the tuxedos, the jewellery and make up, etc. are all signifiers for a particular social standing. This is also emphasised by the mentioning of the prestigious jobs these brides hold, which presents a postfeminist twist on the otherwise common depictions of brides as practising hypergamy, meaning the marrying of a spouse of higher socio-economic status. But significantly, upward social mobility is usually presented as only acceptable for women, reinforcing the image of the husband as the provider. Another key feature of postfeminism, the centrality of heterosexual romance, becomes evident through Daisy Fuentes’ statement: “I’m a modern bride, because I believe that old-school values enhance a modern romance.” Having been liberated from the shackles of second wave feminism, which dismissed romance as “dope for dupes” (Greer in Pearce and Stacey 50), the postfeminist bride unapologetically embraces romance as central part of her life and relationship. Romance is here equated with traditionalism and “old school” values, thus reinforcing sexual exclusiveness, traditional gender roles and marriage as re-modernised, romantic norms. Angela McRobbie describes this “double entanglement” as a key feature of postfeminism that is comprised of “the co-existence of neo-conservative values in relation to gender, sexuality and family life […] with processes of liberalisation in regard to choice and diversity in domestic, sexual and kinship relations” (“Postfeminism” 255–56). These advertisements illustrate quite palpably that the postfeminist bride is a complex figure. It is simultaneously progressive and conservative, fulfilling ideals of conservative femininity while actively negotiating in the complex field of personal choice, individualism and social conventions; it oscillates between power and passivity, tradition and modern womanhood, between feminism and femininity. It is precisely this contradictory nature of the postfeminist bride that makes the figure so appealing, as it allows women to participate in the fantasy world of bridal utopias while still providing possibilities to construct themselves as active and powerful agents. Conclusion While we can generally welcome the reconfiguration of brides as powerful and self-determined, we have to remain critical of the postfeminist assumption of women as “autonomous agents no longer constrained by any inequalities or power imbalances whatsoever” (Gill 153). Where marriage is assumed to be an “even playing field” as Geller argues (110), feminism is no longer needed and traditional marital femininity can be, once again, performed without guilt. In these ways postfeminism deflects feminist criticism with regard to the political dimensions of marital femininity and thus contributes to the production of marital hegemony. But why is marital hegemony per se problematic? Firstly, by presenting marital identity as essential for the construction of gendered identity, bridal fictions leave little room for (female) self-definition outside of the single/married binary. As Ingraham argues, not only “are these categories presented as significant indices of social identity, they are offered as the only options, implying that the organization of identity in relation to marriage is universal and in no need of explanation” (17). Hence, by positioning marriage and singledom as opposite poles on the axis of proper femininity, bridal fictions stigmatise single women as selfish, narcissistic, hedonistic, immature and unable to attract a suitable husband (Taylor 20, 40). Secondly, within bridal fictions “weddings, marriage, romance, and heterosexuality become naturalized to the point where we consent to the belief that marriage is necessary to achieve a sense of well-being, belonging, passion, morality and love” (Ingraham 120). By presenting the white wedding as a publicly endorsed and visible entry to marriage, bridal fictions produce in fundamental ways normative notions about who is ‘fit’ for marriage and therefore capable of the associated cultural and social values of maturity, responsibility, ‘family values’ and so on. This is particularly critical, as postfeminist identities “are structured by, stark and continuing inequalities and exclusions that relate to ‘race’ and ethnicity, class, age, sexuality and disability as well as gender” (Gill 149). These postfeminist exclusions are very evident in contemporary bridal fictions that feature almost exclusively young to middle-aged, white, able-bodied couples with upper to middle class identities that conform to the heteronormative matrix, both physically and socially. By depicting weddings almost exclusively in this kind of raced, classed and gendered framework, bridal fictions associate the above mentioned values, that are seen as markers for responsible adulthood and citizenship, with those who comply with these norms. In these ways bridal fictions stigmatise those who are not able or do not want to get married, and, moreover, produce a visual regime that determines who is seen as entitled to this kind of socially validated identity. The fact that bridal fictions indeed play a major role in producing marital hegemony is further reflected in the increasing presence of same-sex white weddings in popular culture. These representations, despite their message of equality for everyone, usually replicate rather than re-negotiate the heteronormative terms of bridal culture. This can be regarded as evidence of bridal fiction’s scope and reach in naturalising marriage not only as the most ideal form of a heterosexual relationship, but increasingly as the ideal for any kind of intimate relationship. References Bambacas, Christyana. “Thinking about White Weddings.” Journal of Australian Studies 26.72 (2002): 191–200.The Bachelor, ABC, 2002–present. Boden, Sharon. Consumerism, Romance and the Wedding Experience. Houndsmills: Palgrave Macmillan, 2003. Bridezillas, We TV, 2004–present. Cherlin, Andrew. The-Marriage-Go-Round. The State of Marriage and the Family in America Today. New York: Vintage, 2010. Coontz, Stephanie. Marriage. A History. New York: Penguin, 2005. Currie, Dawn. “‘Here Comes the Bride’: The Making of a ‘Modern Traditional’ Wedding in Western Culture.” Journal of Comparative Family Studies 24.3 (1993): 403–21. Engstrom, Erika. The Bride Factory. Mass Portrayals of Women and Weddings. New York: Peter Lang, 2012. Fairchild Bridal Study (2005) 27 May 2012. ‹http://www.sellthebride.com/documents/americanweddingsurvey.pdf›. Finlay, Sara-Jane, and Victoria Clarke. “‘A Marriage of Inconvenience?’ Feminist Perspectives on Marriage.” Feminism & Psychology 13.4 (2003): 415–20. Foucault, M. (1980) “Body/Power and Truth/Power” in Gordon, C. (ed.) Michel Foucault: Power/Knowledge, Harvester, U.K. Friedan, Betty. The Feminine Mystique. Ringwood: Penguin Books, 1973. Geller, Jaqlyn. Here Comes the Bride. Women, Weddings, and the Marriage Mystique. New York: Four Walls Eight Windows, 2001. Genz, Stéphanie. Postfemininities in Popular Culture. New York: Palgrave, 2009. Genz, Stéphanie, and Benjamin Brabon. Postfeminsm. Cultural Texts and Theories. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2009. Gill, Rosalind. “Postfeminist Media Culture. Elements of a Sensibility.” European Journal of Cultural Studies 10.2 (2007): 147–66. Gramsci, Antonio. Selections from the Prison Notebooks. London: Lawrence and Wishart, 1971. Howard, Vicki. Brides, Inc. American Weddings and the Business of Tradition. Philadelphia: U of Pen Press, 2006. Ingraham, Chrys. White Weddings. Romancing Heterosexuality in Popular Discourse. New York: Routledge, 1999. Lewis, Jeff. Cultural Studies. London: Sage, 2008. McRobbie, Angela. “Post-Feminism and Popular Culture.” Feminist Media Studies 4.3 (2004): 255– 64. McRobbie, A. (2009). The Aftermath of Feminism. Gender, Culture and Social Change. London: Sage. Modern Bride, Condé Nast. Otnes, Cele, and Elizabeth Pleck. Cinderella Dreams. The Allure of the Lavish Wedding. Berkeley: U of California P, 2003. Pateman, Carole. The Sexual Contract. Cambridge: Polity Press, 1988. Pearce, Lynn, and Jackie Stacey. Romance Revisited. London: Lawrence and Wishart, 1995. Race to the Altar, NBC, 2003. Rich, Adrienne. “Compulsory Heterosexuality and Lesbian Existence.” Signs Summer.5 (1980): 631–60. Taylor, Anthea. Single Women in Popular Culture. The Limits of Postfeminism. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2012. Wallace, Carol. All Dressed in White. The Irresistible Rise of the American Wedding. London: Penguin Books, 2004. Advertisements Analysed Guiliana Rancic. 29 Sept. 2012 ‹http://slackerchic.blogspot.de/2008/06/im-modern-bride-because-my-witness-was.html›. Daisy Fuentes. 29 Sept. 2012 ‹http://slackerchic.blogspot.de/2008/06/im-modern-bride-because-my-witness-was.html›. Layla Ali. 29 Sept. 2012 ‹http://slackerchic.blogspot.de/2008/06/im-modern-bride-because-my-witness-was.html›.

Abstract Background Given the rapidly aging society, shrinking workforce, and reducing dependency ratio, there is an increasing challenge for family members to provide care for older adults. While a broad understanding of caregiver burden and its consequences have been studied across various contexts, there is a need to better understand this challenge among family caregivers in Asian societies. Methods This study is a cross-sectional observational study. A total of 20 dyads of community-based older adults, who required assistance with at least one activities of daily living, and family caregivers in Thailand participated in the study. We used the first three stages out of five stages of human-centered design: empathize, define, and ideate. Results On average caregivers were 59.2 years old, with 43% still employed. Of the older adult participants, 10 were interviewed, the others had moderate-to-severe cognitive impairment. Based on the analysis, six caregiver personas (i.e. semi-fictional characters) are identified. Caregiver personas of “The 2-Jober” and “My Life Purpose” has the highest caregiver burden score whereas “The Spouse” has the lowest. Based on the specific needs of the caregiver persona “My Life Purpose”, the team brainstormed more than 80 potential solutions which were classified into three categories of solutions that satisfied the metrics of desirability, feasibility and viability: distributed medical care system, technology-charged care network, and community gathering for rest and recuperation. Conclusions These solutions are culturally sensitive given that they are built around established behavioral patterns. This is an illustration of a method of innovation that can be applied to bring a culturally specific understanding, and to develop products and services to enable further independent aging.

Arrow, Emily. Studio: A Place for Art to Start. Illustrated by The Little Friends of Printmaking. Tundra, 2020. With its saturated colour palate and complex, pop-y imagery, Studio exudes cover appeal and an abundance of cool charm. Studio is a first-time venture into creating a children’s book by both writer, Emily Arrow, and the illustrators, husband-and-wife team, The Little Friends of Printmaking. Both contributors bring a huge amount of talent, experience and enthusiasm to this collaboration. Emily Arrow is a bona fide children’s lit social media celeb and, as Arrow’s wider oeuvre of literacy focused YouTube videos illustrates, she understands the pacing and tempo well-suited to an engaging children’s book. Studio has a fresh idea to convey to its younger readers and the decision to tackle representing these ideas in verse deserves legitimate praise. The cadence of the verse does stumble occasionally, but as it’s in pursuit of the complex, conceptual topic of the book, that can be forgiven.The characters' faces and the detail in their depiction is appealingly reminiscent of children’s author and illustrator Richard Scarry, while the excellent use of black for framing and detail in contrast with a supersaturated palate is an assertive, design-influenced aesthetic. These elements give Studio a fresh but endearingly retro equilibrium. Studio offers a visually rich introduction and warm homage to the concept of the multidisciplinary studio. The premise of Studio is a challenging one to negotiate and represent. A careful reading reveals “for rent” signs on the available studio spaces depicted in the book, so this is not focused on the sort of urban, community arts studios that children might already be familiar with. The adult caregiver accompanying the child on the tour of Studio is the one shopping for a studio space and is revealed at the end of the book as the primary user of the studio. The caregiver is sharing their experience of finding a studio with the child at the centre of the narrative. This is slightly problematic in a children’s book as this scenario doesn’t provide the child with agency in motivation, selection, or even autonomous use of the creative space being lauded. Studio is bringing an interesting concept and opportunity to a young audience in a very attractive way but, realistically, it’s one that probably won’t be accessible to a child until they are older. This tension would function similarly if the child and caregiver in the book were exploring any workplace. While the child might be permitted to indulge in a sense of ownership, this isn’t a child’s space. It’s a space where children would be entirely guided, carefully supervised or absent. So, what is a creative child to do in this circumstance? Happily, Studio doesn’t overlook this dilemma and resolves the problem of agency with the book’s conclusion. The child, having been inspired by their tour of the studio and their caregiver’s newly found studio space, has set up an art space in their own home. In this way, Studio functions as a creative call to action, offering children the aspirational goal of pursuing creative work. With its dynamic details and artful page design, Studio absolutely succeeds in conveying the appeal and functionality of a studio space and encourages creative children to understand it as an exciting and achievable goal. Highly Recommended: 4 out of 4 starsReviewer: Matilda Roche Matilda Roche holds a BA in English, with a minor in Fine Art. She worked as a Library Technician at the University of Alberta for a number of years before leaving to assist in the operation of a family dental practice. She has published literature reviews and non-fiction, and now writes adult fiction when she’s not learning karate, grocery shopping and watching xianxia rom-com with her two lovely children and patient spouse.

‘Historiographic Metafiction’ (HM) is a literary term first coined by creative writing academic Linda Hutcheon in 1988, and which refers to the postmodern practice of a fiction author inserting imagined--or illegitimate--characters into narratives that are intended to be received as authentic and historically accurate, that is, ostensibly legitimate. Such adventurous and bold authorial strategies frequently result in “novels which are both intensely self-reflexive and yet paradoxically also lay claim to historical events and personages” (Hutcheon, A Poetics 5). They can be so entertaining and engaging that the overtly intertextual, explicitly inventive work of biographical HM can even change the “hegemonic discourse of history” (Nunning 353) for, as Philippa Gregory, the author of HM novel The Other Boleyn Girl (2001), has said regarding this genre of creative writing: “Fiction is about imagined feelings and thoughts. History depends on the outer life. The novel is always about the inner life. Fiction can sometimes do more than history. It can fill the gaps” (University of Sussex). In a way, this article will be filling one of the gaps regarding HM.Forrest Gump (Robert Zemeckis, 1994) is possibly the best known cinematic example of HM, and this film version of the 1986 novel by Winston Groom particularly excels in seamlessly inserting images of a fictional character into verified history, as represented by well-known television newsreel footage. In Zemeckis’s adaptation, gaps were created in the celluloid artefact and filled digitally with images of the actor, Tom Hanks, playing the eponymous role. Words are often deemed less trustworthy than images, however, and fiction is considered particularly unreliable--although there are some exceptions conceded. In addition to Gregory’s novel; Midnight’s Children (1980) by Salman Rushdie; The Name of the Rose (1983) by Umberto Eco; and The Flashman Papers (1969-2005) by George MacDonald Fraser, are three well-known, loved and lauded examples of literary HM, which even if they fail to convince the reader of their bona fides, nevertheless win a place in many hearts. But despite the genre’s popularity, there is nevertheless a conceptual gap in the literary theory of Hutcheon given her (perfectly understandable) inability in 1988 to predict the future of e-publishing. This article will attempt to address that shortcoming by exploring the potential for authors of HM e-novels to use hyperlinks which immediately direct the reader to fact providing webpages such as those available at the website Wikipedia, like a much speedier (and more independent) version of the footnotes in Fraser’s Flashman novels.Of course, as Roland Barthes declared in 1977, “the text is a tissue of quotations drawn from innumerable centres of culture” (146) and, as per any academic work that attempts to contribute to knowledge, a text’s sources--its “quotations”--must be properly identified and acknowledged via checkable references if credibility is to be securely established. Hence, in explaining the way claims to fact in the HM novel can be confirmed by independently published experts on the Internet, this article will also address the problem Hutcheon identifies, in that for many readers the entirety of the HM novel assumes questionable authenticity, that is, the novel’s “meta-fictional self-reflexivity (and intertextuality) renders their claims to historical veracity somewhat problematic, to say the least” ("Historiographic Metafiction: Parody", 3). This article (and the PhD in creative writing I am presently working on at Murdoch University in Perth, Western Australia) will possibly develop the concept of HM to a new level: one at which the Internet-connected reader of the hyperlinked e-novel is made fully (and even instantly) aware of those literary elements of the narrative that are legitimate and factual as distinct from those that are fictional, that is, illegitimate. Furthermore, utilising examples from my own (yet-to-be published) hyperlinked HM e-novel, this article demonstrates that such hyperlinking can add an ironic sub-text to a fictional character’s thoughts and utterances, through highlighting the reality concerning their mistaken or naïve beliefs, thus creating HM narratives that serve an entertainingly complex yet nevertheless truly educational purpose.As a relatively new and under-researched genre of historical writing, HM differs dramatically from the better known style of standard historical or biographical narrative, which typically tends to emphasise mimesis, the cataloguing of major “players” in historical events and encyclopaedic accuracy of dates, deaths and places. Instead, HM involves the re-contextualisation of real-life figures from the past, incorporating the lives of entirely (or, as in the case of Gregory’s Mary Boleyn, at least partly) fictitious characters into their generally accepted famous and factual activities, and/or the invention of scenarios that gel realistically--but entertainingly--within a landscape of well-known and well-documented events. As Hutcheon herself states: “The formal linking of history and fiction through the common denominators of intertextuality and narrativity is usually offered not as a reduction, as a shrinking of the scope and value of fiction, but rather as an expansion of these” ("Intertextuality", 11). Similarly, Gregory emphasises the need for authors of HM to extend themselves beyond the encyclopaedic archive: “Archives are not history. The trouble with archives is that the material is often random and atypical. To have history, you have to have a narrative” (University of Sussex). Functionally then, HM is an intertextual narrative genre which serves to communicate to a contemporary audience an expanded story or stories of the past which present an ultimately more self-reflective, personal and unpredictable authorship: it is a distinctly auteurial mode of biographical history writing for it places the postmodern author’s imaginative “signature” front and foremost.Hutcheon later clarified that the quest for historical truth in fiction cannot possibly hold up to the persuasive powers of a master novelist, as per the following rationale: “Fact is discourse-defined: an event is not” ("Historiographic Metafiction", 843). This means, in a rather simplistic nutshell, that the new breed of HM novel writer is not constrained by what others may call fact: s/he knows that the alleged “fact” can be renegotiated and redefined by an inventive discourse. An event, on the other hand, is responsible for too many incontrovertible consequences for it to be contested by her/his mere discourse. So-called facts are much easier for the HM writer to play with than world changing events. This notion was further popularised by Ansgar Nunning when he claimed the overtly explicit work of HM can even change the “hegemonic discourse of history” (353). HM authors can radically alter, it seems, the way the reader perceives the facts of history especially when entertaining, engaging and believable characters are deliberately devised and manipulated into the narrative by the writer. Little wonder, then, that Hutcheon bemoans the unfortunate reality that for many readers the entirety of a HM work assumes questionable “veracity” due to its author’s insertion of imaginary and therefore illegitimate personages.But there is an advantage to be found in this, the digital era, and that is the Internet’s hyperlink. In our ubiquitously networked electronic information age, novels written for publication as e-books may, I propose, include clickable links on the names of actual people and events to Wikipedia entries or the like, thus strengthening the reception of the work as being based on real history (the occasional unreliability of Wikipedia notwithstanding). If picked up for hard copy publication this function of the HM e-novel can be replicated with the inclusion of icons in the printed margins that can be scanned by smartphones or similar gadgets. This small but significant element of the production reinforces the e-novel’s potential status as a new form of HM and addresses Hutcheon’s concern that for HM novels, their imaginative but illegitimate invention of characters “renders their claims to historical veracity somewhat problematic, to say the least” ("Historiographic Metafiction: Parody", 3).Some historic scenarios are so little researched or so misunderstood and discoloured by the muddy waters of time and/or rumour that such hyperlinking will be a boon to HM writers. Where an obscure facet of Australian history is being fictionalised, for example, these edifying hyperlinks can provide additional background information, as Glenda Banks and Martin Andrew might have wished for when they wrote regarding Bank’s Victorian goldfields based HM novel A Respectable Married Woman. This 2012 printed work explores the lives of several under-researched and under-represented minorities, such as settler women and Aboriginal Australians, and the author Banks lamented the dearth of public awareness regarding these peoples. Indeed, HM seems tailor-made for exposing the subaltern lives of those repressed individuals who form the human “backdrop” to the lives of more famous personages. Banks and Andrew explain:To echo the writings of Homi K. Bhaba (1990), this sets up a creative site for interrogating the dominant, hegemonic, ‘normalised’ master narratives about the Victorian goldfields and ‘re-membering’ a marginalised group - the women of the goldfields, the indigenous [sic], the Chinese - and their culture (2013).In my own hyperlinked short story (presently under consideration for publishing elsewhere), which is actually a standalone version of the first chapter of a full-length HM e-novel about Aboriginal Australian activists Eddie Mabo and Chicka Dixon and the history of the Aboriginal Tent Embassy in Canberra, entitled The Bullroarers, I have focussed on a similarly under-represented minority, that being light-complexioned, mixed race Aboriginal Australians. My second novel to deal with Indigenous Australian issues (see Starrs, That Blackfella Bloodsucka Dance), it is my first attempt at writing HM. Hopefully avoiding overkill whilst alerting readers to those Wikipedia pages with relevance to the narrative theme of non-Indigenous attitudes towards light-complexioned Indigenous Australians, I have inserted a total of only six hyperlinks in this 2200-word piece, plus the explanatory foreword stating: “Note, except where they are well-known place names or are indicated as factual by the insertion of Internet hyperlinks verifying such, all persons, organisations, businesses and places named in this text are entirely fictitious.”The hyperlinks in my short story all take the reader not to stubs but to well-established Wikipedia pages, and provide for the uninformed audience the following near-unassailable facts (i.e. events):The TV program, A Current Affair, which the racist character of the short story taken from The Bullroarers, Mrs Poulter, relies on for her prejudicial opinions linking Aborigines with the dealing of illegal drugs, is a long-running, prime-time Channel Nine production. Of particular relevance in the Wikipedia entry is the comment: “Like its main rival broadcast on the Seven Network, Today Tonight, A Current Affair is often considered by media critics and the public at large to use sensationalist journalism” (Wikipedia, “A Current Affair”).The Aboriginal Tent Embassy, located on the lawns opposite the Old Parliament House in Canberra, was established in 1972 and ever since has been the focus of Aboriginal Australian land rights activism and political agitation. In 1995 the Australian Register of the National Estate listed it as the only Aboriginal site in Australia that is recognised nationally for representing Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people and their political struggles (Wikipedia, “The Aboriginal Tent Embassy”).In 1992, during an Aboriginal land rights case known as Mabo, the High Court of Australia issued a judgment constituting a direct overturning of terra nullius, which is a Latin term meaning “land belonging to no one”, and which had previously formed the legal rationale and justification for the British invasion and colonisation of Aboriginal Australia (Wikipedia, “Terra Nullius”).Aboriginal rights activist and Torres Strait Islander, Eddie Koiki Mabo (1936 to 1992), was instrumental in the High Court decision to overturn the doctrine of terra nullius in 1992. In that same year, Eddie Mabo was posthumously awarded the Australian Human Rights Medal in the Human Rights and Equal Opportunity Commission Awards (Wikipedia, “Eddie Mabo”).The full name of what Mrs Poulter blithely refers to as “the Department of Families and that” is the Australian Government’s Department of Families, Housing, Community Services and Indigenous Affairs (Wikipedia, “The Department of Families, Housing, Community Services and Indigenous Affairs”).The British colonisation of Australia was a bloody, murderous affair: “continuous Aboriginal resistance for well over a century belies the ‘myth’ of peaceful settlement in Australia. Settlers in turn often reacted to Aboriginal resistance with great violence, resulting in numerous indiscriminate massacres by whites of Aboriginal men, women and children” (Wikipedia, “History of Australia (1788 - 1850)”).Basically, what is not evidenced empirically with regard to the subject matter of my text, that is, the egregious attitudes of non-Indigenous Australians towards Indigenous Australians, can be extrapolated thanks to the hyperlinks. This resonates strongly with Linda Tuhiwai Smith’s assertion in 2012 that those under-represented by mainstream, patriarchal epistemologies need to be engaged in acts of “reclaiming, reformulating and reconstituting” (143) so as to be re-presented as authentic identities in these HM artefacts of literary research.Exerting auteurial power as an Aboriginal Australian author myself, I have sought to imprint on my writing a multi-levelled signature pertaining to my people’s under-representation: there is not just the text I have created but another level to be considered by the reader, that being my careful choice of Wikipedia pages to hyperlink certain aspects of the creative writing to. These electronic footnotes serve as politically charged acts of “reclaiming, reformulating and reconstituting” Aboriginal Australian history, to reuse the words of Smith, for when we Aboriginal Australian authors reiterate, when we subjugated savages wrestle the keyboard away from the colonising overseers, our readers witness the Other writing back, critically. As I have stated previously (see Starrs, "Writing"), 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 rational, enlightened and civil coloniser is instead depicted as the author and perpetrator of a violently racist, criminal discourse, until, eventually, s/he is ultimately eroded and made into the Other: s/he is rendered the villainous, predatory savage by the auteurial signatures in revisionist histories such as The Bullroarers.Whilst the benefit in these hyperlinks as electronic educational footnotes in my short story is fairly obvious, what may not be so obvious is the ironic commentary they can make, when read in conjunction with the rest of The Bullroarers. Although one must reluctantly agree with Wayne C. Booth’s comment in his classic 1974 study A Rhetoric of Irony that, in some regards, “the very spirit and value [of irony] are violated by the effort to be clear about it” (ix), I will nevertheless strive for clarity and understanding by utilizing Booth’s definition of irony “as something that under-mines clarities, opens up vistas of chaos, and either liberates by destroying all dogmas or destroys by revealing the inescapable canker of negation at the heart of every affirmation” (ix). The reader of The Bullroarers is not expecting the main character, Mrs Poulter, to be the subject of erosive criticism that destroys her “dogmas” about Aboriginal Australians--certainly not so early in the narrative when it is unclear if she is or is not the protagonist of the story--and yet that’s exactly what the hyperlinks do. They expose her as hopelessly unreliable, laughably misinformed and yes, unforgivably stupid. They reveal the illegitimacy of her beliefs. Perhaps the most personally excoriating of these revelations is provided by the link to the Wikipedia entry on the Australian Government’s Department of Families, Housing, Community Services and Indigenous Affairs, which is where her own daughter, Roxy, works, but which Mrs Poulter knows, gormlessly, as “the Department of Families and that”. The ignorant woman spouts racist diatribes against Aboriginal Australians without even realising how inextricably linked she and her family, who live at the deliberately named Boomerang Crescent, really are. Therein lies the irony I am trying to create with my use of hyperlinks: an independent, expert adjudication reveals my character, Mrs Poulter, and her opinions, are hiding an “inescapable canker of negation at the heart of every affirmation” (Booth ix), despite the air of easy confidence she projects.Is the novel-reading public ready for these HM hyperlinked e-novels and their potentially ironic sub-texts? Indeed, the question must be asked: can the e-book ever compete with the tactile sensations a finely crafted, perfectly bound hardcover publication provides? Perhaps, if the economics of book buying comes into consideration. E-novels are cheap to publish and cheap to purchase, hence they are becoming hugely popular with the book buying public. Writes Mark Coker, the founder of Smashwords, a successful online publisher and distributor of e-books: “We incorporated in 2007, and we officially launched the business in May 2008. In our first year, we published 140 books from 90 authors. Our catalog reached 6,000 books in 2009, 28,800 in 2010, 92,000 in 2011, 191,000 in 2012 and as of this writing (November 2013) stands at over 250,000 titles” (Coker 2013). Coker divulged more about his company’s success in an interview with Forbes online magazine: “‘It costs essentially the same to pump 10,000 new books a month through our network as it will cost to do 100,000 a month,’ he reasons. Smashwords book retails, on average, for just above $3; 15,000 titles are free” (Colao 2012).In such a burgeoning environment of technological progress in publishing I am tempted to say that yes, the time of the hyperlinked e-novel has come, and to even predict that HM will be a big part of this new wave of postmodern literature. The hyperlinked HM e-novel’s strategy invites the reader to reflect on the legitimacy and illegitimacy of different forms of narrative, possibly concluding, thanks to ironic electronic footnoting, that not all the novel’s characters and their commentary are to be trusted. Perhaps my HM e-novel will, with its untrustworthy Mrs Poulter and its little-known history of the Aboriginal Tent Embassy addressed by gap-filling hyperlinks, establish a legitimising narrative for a people who have traditionally in white Australian society been deemed the Other and illegitimate. Perhaps The Bullroarers will someday alter attitudes of non-Indigenous Australians to the history and political activities of this country’s first peoples, to the point even, that as Nunning warns, we witness a change in the “hegemonic discourse of history” (353). If that happens we must be thankful for our Internet-enabled information age and its concomitant possibilities for hyperlinked e-publications, for technology may be separated from the world of art, but it can nevertheless be effectively used to recreate, enhance and access that world, to the extent texts previously considered illegitimate achieve authenticity and veracity.ReferencesBanks, Glenda. A Respectable Married Woman. Melbourne: Lacuna, 2012.Banks, Glenda, and Martin Andrew. “Populating a Historical Novel: A Case Study of a Practice-led Research Approach to Historiographic Metafiction.” Bukker Tillibul 7 (2013). 19 Sep. 2014 ‹http://bukkertillibul.net/Text.html?VOL=7&INDEX=2›.Barthes, Roland. Image, Music, Text. Trans. Stephen Heath. London: Fontana Press, 1977.Booth, Wayne C. A Rhetoric of Irony. Chicago: U of Chicago P, 1974.Colao, J.J. “Apple’s Biggest (Unknown) Supplier of E-books.” Forbes 7 June 2012. 19 Sep. 2014 ‹http://www.forbes.com/sites/jjcolao/2012/06/07/apples-biggest-unknown-supplier-of-e-books/›.Coker, Mark. “Q & A with Smashwords Founder, Mark Coker.” About Smashwords 2013. 19 Sep. 2014 ‹https://www.smashwords.com/about›.Eco, Umberto. The Name of the Rose. Trans. William Weaver, San Diego: Harcourt, 1983.Forrest Gump. Dir. Robert Zemeckis. Paramount Pictures, 1994.Fraser, George MacDonald. The Flashman Papers. Various publishers, 1969-2005.Groom, Winston. Forrest Gump. NY: Doubleday, 1986.Gregory, Philippa. The Other Boleyn Girl. UK: Scribner, 2001.Hutcheon, Linda. A Poetics of Postmodernism: History, Theory, Fiction, 2nd ed. Abingdon, UK: Taylor and Francis, 1988.---. “Intertextuality, Parody, and the Discourses of History: A Poetics of Postmodernism History, Theory, Fiction.” 1988. 19 Sep. 2014 ‹http://ieas.unideb.hu/admin/file_3553.pdf›.---. “Historiographic Metafiction: Parody and the Intertextuality of History.” Eds. P. O’Donnell and R.C. Davis, Intertextuality and Contemporary American Fiction. Baltimore, Maryland: John Hopkins UP, 1989. 3-32.---. “Historiographic Metafiction.” Ed. Michael McKeon, Theory of the Novel: A Historical Approach Baltimore, Maryland: Johns Hopkins UP, 2000. 830-50.Nunning, Ansgar. “Where Historiographic Metafiction and Narratology Meet.” Style 38.3 (2004): 352-75.Rushdie, Salman. Midnight’s Children. London: Jonathan Cape, 1980.Starrs, D. Bruno. That Blackfella Bloodsucka Dance! Saarbrücken, Germany: Just Fiction Edition (paperback), 2011; Starrs via Smashwords (e-book), 2012.---. “Writing Indigenous Vampires: Aboriginal Gothic or Aboriginal Fantastic?” M/C Journal 17.4 (2014). 19 Sep. 2014 ‹http://journal.media-culture.org.au/index.php/mcjournal/article/viewArticle/834›.Tuhiwai Smith, Linda. Decolonizing Methodologies. London & New York: Zed Books, 2012.University of Sussex. “Philippa Gregory Fills the Historical Gaps.” University of Sussex Alumni Magazine 51 (2012). 19 Sep. 2014 ‹http://www.scribd.com/doc/136033913/University-of-Sussex-Alumni-Magazine-Falmer-issue-51›.Wikipedia. “A Current Affair.” 2014. 19 Sep. 2014 ‹http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Current_Affair›.---. “Aboriginal Tent Embassy.” 2014. 19 Sep. 2014 ‹http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aboriginal_Tent_Embassy›.---. “Department of Families, Housing, Community Services and Indigenous Affairs.” 2014. 19 Sep. 2014 ‹http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Department_of_Families,_Housing,_Community_Services_and_Indigenous_Affairs›.---. “Eddie Mabo.” 2014. 19 Sep. 2014 ‹http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eddie_Mabo›.---. “History of Australia (1788 – 1850).” 2014. 19 Sep. 2014 ‹http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/History_of_Australia_(1788%E2%80%931850)#Aboriginal_resistance›.---. “Terra Nullius.” 2014. 19 Sep. 2014 ‹http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Terra_nullius›.

Artikkelissa tarkastellaan yhtä imperatiivin prototyyppisestä poikkeavaa käyttötapaa, jolla ilmaistaan kielteistä suhtautumista puhuteltavan toimintaa kohtaan. Esimerkiksi äidin lapsilleen lausuma repikää nyt se mun hame siinä ilmaisee paheksuntaa ja varoittaa samalla toiminnan ei-toivotuista seurauksista. Käyttötapaa nimitetään paheksuntaimperatiiviksi, ja sen osoitetaan olevan itsenäinen affektinen lausekonstruktio. Artikkelin yleisempänä tavoitteena on näyttää imperatiivin käyttötapojen moninaisuus ja sen hienojakoinen konstruktioituminen. Tutkimuksen teoreettinen lähestymistapa on konstruktionaalinen ja vuorovaikutuslingvistinen. Artikkeli perustuu noin 90 esiintymän aineistoon, joka on koottu monenlaisista puhutun ja kirjoitetun kielen lähteistä, muiden muassa murrearkistoista, haastattelulitteraatioista, puheesta tehdyistä muistiinpanoista, kaunokirjallisuudesta ja internetistä. Paheksuntaimperatiivi on yleiskielessä harvinainen; sen alueellinen tausta on aineiston perusteella itä- ja pohjalaismurteissa. Aineiston esiintymiä analysoidaan muodon ja merkityksen kannalta vuorovaikutuskonteksti huomioon ottaen. Paheksuntaimperatiivin itsenäisen konstruktiostatuksen osoittamiseksi sitä vertaillaan myös eräisiin sen lähikonstruktioihin, esimerkiksi imperatiivimuotoisiin kieltoihin ja uhkauksiin. Paheksuntaimperatiivilla on monia rakenteellisia ja semanttisia ominaispiirteitä, kuten tietyt partikkelit, affektiset verbit ja verbirakenteet. Se voidaan muodostaa myös verbeistä, jotka eivät ilmaise tahdonalaista toimintaa. Tyypilliseen imperatiivin käyttöön paheksuntaimperatiivin yhdistää toimintaa ohjaileva tehtävä ja lausuman suuntaaminen tietylle vastaanottajalle tietyssä tilanteessa. Direktiivisyys jää kuitenkin taka-alalle. Vaikka konstruktiolla voidaan pyrkiä keskeyttämään meneillään oleva toiminta, puhuteltavat tulkitsevat lausumat ennen kaikkea toimintaansa kohdistuviksi moitteiksi. Affektin voimakkuus vaihtelee tilannekontekstista riippuen; yleensä se on hyvin vahva. Paheksuntaimperatiivia käytetään muun muassa perheenjäsenten välisissä keskusteluissa ja niiden fiktiivisissä kuvauksissa, esimerkiksi varoitettaessa lapsia tai riideltäessä, sekä kirjoitetuissa verkkokeskusteluissa, joissa anonyymit osallistujat arvostelevat toistensa toimintaa. The reproachful imperative as affective construction This article examines a non-prototypical use of the Finnish imperative: an affective clause construction displaying a negative stance towards the action performed by the addressee. An example of this is a mother’s utterance to her children repikää nyt se mun hame siinä (‘go on, tear my skirt there’), which indicates that she strongly disapproves of the action; simultaneously she may be signalling potential, undesirable consequences. The author terms the above construction the ‘Reproachful Imperative’. The broader aim of the article is to demonstrate the variety of imperative clause types and their constructionalisation. The theoretical framework of the study shares many assumptions with Construction Grammar and Interactional Linguistics. The study is based on empirical data from spoken and written language consisting of approximately 90 instantiations of the construction. The data has been gathered from dialect archives, interview transcriptions, field notes taken by individual researchers, fictive dialogue in novels, and the internet. The ‘Reproachful Imperative’ is rare in Standard Finnish. It is mostly used in Eastern dialects and in the dialects of Ostrobothnia. In analysing the data in conversational contexts, both form and meaning are examined. In order to demonstrate that the ‘Reproachful Imperative’ has the status of an independent construction, the author compares it with various closely related imperative constructions, such as prohibitions and threats. The ‘Reproachful Imperative’ is characterised by several structural and semantic features, e.g. particles, affective verbs and verb constructions, and the possibility of formation from verbs expressing an un-controllable action. The use of the ‘Reproachful Imperative’ resembles the prototypical directive use of the imperative in that it is directed to a specific addressee in a specific situation. However, the directivity of the imperative is not emphasised when using the construction. Although it may be used to stop the on-going activity, the recipients interpret the utterances primarily as a reproach. The strength of the affective stance varies depending on the context; it is usually very strong. A typical context in which the construction is used is in conversations between family members – spouses quarrelling with each other or parents warning and reproaching their children. In written online discussions the construction is used by anonymous participants who criticise each other’s acts

Could we also imagine a language in which a person could write down or give vocal expression to his inner experiences -- his feelings, moods, and the rest -- for his private use? Well, can't we do so in our ordinary language? -- But that is not what I mean. The individual words of this language are to refer to what can only be known to the person speaking; to his immediate private sensations. So another person cannot understand the language. -- Ludwig Wittgenstein, Philosophical Investigations par. 243 I will be using 'audience' in two ways in the following essay: as a phenomenon that produces and is produced by media technologies (readers, hearers, viewers, Internet-users), and as something, audiens, that is essential to language itself, something without which language cannot be. I shall do so in specific references to invented languages. Who, then, are the 'consumers' of invented languages? In referring to invented languages, I am not talking about speakers of Esperanto or Occidental; I am not concerned with the invention of international auxiliary languages. These projects, already well-debated, have roots that go back at least as far as the 17th-century language philosophers who were at pains to undo the damage of Babel and restore a common language to the world. While Esperanto never became what it intended to be, it at least has readers and speakers. I am also not even talking about speakers of Klingon or Quenya. These privately invented languages have had the good fortune to be attached to popular invented cultures, and to media with enough money and publicity to generate a multitude of fans. Rather, I am talking about a phenomenon on the Internet and in a well- populated listserv whereby a number of people from all over the globe have discovered each other on-line. They all have a passion for what Jeffrey Schnapp calls uglossia ('no-language', after utopia, 'no-place'). Umberto Eco calls it 'technical insanity' or glottomania. Linguist Marina Yaguello calls language inventors fous du langage ('language lunatics') in her book of the same title. Jeffrey Henning prefers the term 'model language' in his on-line newsletter: 'miniaturized versions that provide the essence of something'. On CONLANG, people call themselves conlangers (from 'constructed language') and what they do conlanging. By forming this list, they have created a media audience for themselves, in the first sense of the term, and also literally in the second sense, as a number of them are setting up soundbytes on their elaborately illustrated and explicated Webpages. Originally devoted to advocates for international auxiliary languages, CONLANG started out about eight years ago, and as members joined who were less interested in the politics than in the hobby of language invention, the list has become almost solely the domain of the latter, whereas the 'auxlangers', as they are called, have moved to another list. An important distinguishing feature of 'conlangers' is that, unlike the 'auxlangers', there is no sustained hope that their languages will have a wide-body of hearers or users. They may wish it, but they do not advocate for it, and as a consequence their languages are free to be a lot weirder, whereas the auxlangs tend to strive for regularity and useability. CONLANG is populated by highschool, college, and graduate students; linguists; computer programmers; housewives; librarians; professors; and other users worldwide. The old debate about whether the Internet has become the 'global village' that Marshall McLuhan predicted, or whether it threatens to atomise communication 'into ever smaller worlds where enthusiasms mutate into obsessions', as Jeff Salamon warns, seems especially relevant to a study of CONLANG whose members indulge in an invention that by its very nature excludes the casual listener-in. And yet the audio-visual capacities of the Internet, along with its speed and efficiency of communication, have made it the ideal forum for conlangers. Prior to the Web, how were fellow inventors to know that others were doing -- in secret? J.R.R. Tolkien has been lauded as a rare exception in the world of invention, but would his elaborate linguistic creations have become so famous had he not published The Lord of the Rings and its Appendix? Poignantly, he tells in "A Secret Vice" about accidentally overhearing another army recruit say aloud: 'Yes! I think I shall express the accusative by a prefix!'. Obviously, silent others besides Tolkien were inventing languages, but they did not have the means provided by the Internet to discover one another except by chance. Tolkien speaks of the 'shyness' and 'shame' attached to this pursuit, where 'higher developments are locked in secret places'. It can win no prizes, he says, nor make birthday presents for aunts. His choice of title ("A Secret Vice") echoes a Victorian phrase for the closet, and conlangers have frequently compared conlanging to homosexuality, both being what conservative opinion expects one to grow out of after puberty. The number of gay men on the list has been wondered at as more than coincidental. In a survey I conducted in October 1998, many of the contributors to CONLANG felt that the list put them in touch with an audience that provided them with intellectual and emotional feedback. Their interests were misunderstood by parents, spouses, lovers, and employers alike, and had to be kept under wraps. Most of those I surveyed said that they had been inventing a language well before they had heard of the list; that they had conceived of what they were doing as unique or peculiar, until discovery of CONLANG; and that other people's Websites astounded them with the pervasive fascination of this pursuit. There are two ways to look at it: conlanging, as Henning writes, may be as common and as humanly creative as any kind of model-making, i.e., dollhouses, model trains, role-playing, or even the constructed cultures with city plans and maps in fantasy novels such as Terry Pratchett's Discworld. The Web is merely a means to bring enthusiasts together. Or it may provide a site that, with the impetus of competition and showmanship, encourages inutile and obsessive activity. Take your pick. From Hildegard von Bingen's Lingua Ignota to Dante's Inferno and the babbling Nimrod to John Dee's Enochian and on, invented languages have smacked of religious ecstacy, necromancy, pathology, and the demonic. Twin speech, or 'pathological idioglossia', was dramatised by Jodie Foster in Nell. Hannah Green's 'Language of Yr' was the invention of her schizophrenic protagonist in I Never Promised You a Rose Garden. Language itself is the centre of furious theoretical debate. Despite the inventive 'deformities' it is put to in poetry, punning, jest, singing, and lying, human language, our most 'natural' of technologies, is a social machine, used by multitudes and expected to get things done. It is expected of language that it be understood and that it have not only hearers but also answerers. All human production is founded on this assumption. A language without an audience of other speakers is no language. 'Why aren't you concentrating on real languages?' continues to be the most stinging criticism. Audience is essential to Wittgenstein's remark quoted at the beginning of this essay. Wittgenstein posits his 'private languages theory' as a kind of impossibility: all natural languages, because they exist by consensus, can only refer to private experience externally. Hence, a truly private language, devoted to naming 'feelings and moods' which the subject has never heard about or shared with others, is impossible among socialised speakers who are called upon to define subjective experience in public terms. His is a critique of solipsism, a charge often directed at language inventors. But very few conlangers that I have encountered are making private languages in Wittgenstein's sense, because most of them are interested in investing their private words with public meaning, even when they are doing it privately. For them, it is audience, deeply desireable, that has been impossible until now. Writing well before the development of CONLANG, Yaguello takes the stance that inventing a language is an act of madness. 'Just look at the lunatic in love with language', she writes: sitting in his book-lined study, he collects great piles of information, he collates and classifies it, he makes lists and fills card indexes. He is in the clutches of a denominatory delirium, of a taxonomic madness. He has to name everything, but before being able to name, he has to recognize and classify concepts, to enclose the whole Universe in a system of notation: produce enumerations, hierarchies, and paradigms. She is of course describing John Wilkins, whose Real Character and Universal Language in 1668 was an attempt to make each syllable of his every invented word denote its placement in a logical scheme of classification. 'A lunatic ambition', Yaguello pronounces, because it missed the essential quality of language: that its signs are arbitrary, practical, and changeable, so as to admit neologism and cultural difference. But Yaguello denounces auxiliary language makers in general as amateurs 'in love with language and with languages, and ignorant of the science of language'. Her example of 'feminine' invention comes from Helene Smith, the medium who claimed to be channeling Martian (badly disguised French). One conlanger noted that Yaguello's chapter entitled 'In Defence of Natural Languages' reminded him of the US Federal 'Defense of Marriage Act', whereby the institution of heterosexual marriage is 'defended' from homosexual marriage. Let homosexuals marry or lunatics invent language, and both marriage and English (or French) will come crashing to the ground. Schnapp praises Yaguello's work for being the most comprehensive examination of the phenomenon to date, but neither he nor she addresses linguist Suzette Haden Elgin's creative work on Láadan, a language designed for women, or even Quenya or Klingon -- languages that have acquired at least an audience of readers. Schnapp is less condemnatory than Yaguello, and interested in seeing language inventors as the 'philologists of imaginary worlds', 'nos semblables, nos frères, nos soeurs' -- after all. Like Yaguello, he is given to some generalities: imaginary languages are 'infantile': 'the result is always [my emphasis] an "impoverishment" of the natural languages in question: reduced to a limited set of open vowels [he means "open syllables"], prone to syllabic reduplication and to excessive syntactical parallelisms and symmetries'. To be sure, conlangs will never replicate the detail and history of a real language, but to call them 'impoverishments of the natural languages' seems as strange as calling dollhouses 'impoverishments of actual houses'. Why this perception of threat or diminishment? The critical, academic "audience" for language invention has come largely from non-language inventors and it is woefully uninformed. It is this audience that conlangers dislike the most: the outsiders who cannot understand what they are doing and who belittle it. The field, then, is open to re-examination, and the recent phenomenon of conlanging is evidence that the art of inventing languages is neither lunatic nor infantile. But if one is not Tolkien or a linguist supported by the fans of Star Trek, how does one justify the worthwhile nature of one's art? Is it even art if it has an audience of one ... its artist? Conlanging remains a highly specialised and technical pursuit that is, in the end, deeply subjective. Model builders and map-makers can expect their consumers to enjoy their products without having to participate in the minutia of their building. Not so the conlanger, whose consumer must internalise it, and who must understand and absorb complex linguistic concepts. It is different in the world of music. The Cocteau Twins, Bobby McFerrin in his Circle Songs, Lisa Gerrard in Duality, and the new group Ekova in Heaven's Dust all use 'nonsense' words set to music -- either to make songs that sound like exotic languages or to convey a kind of melodic glossolalia. Knowing the words is not important to their hearers, but few conlangers yet have that outlet, and must rely on text and graphs to give a sense of their language's structure. To this end, then, these are unheard, unaudienced languages, existing mostly on screen. A few conlangers have set their languages to music and recorded them. What they are doing, however, is decidedly different from the extempore of McFerrin. Their words mean something, and are carefully worked out lexically and grammatically. So What Are These Conlangs Like? On CONLANG and their links to Websites you will find information on almost every kind of no-language imaginable. Some sites are text only; some are lavishly illustrated, like the pages for Denden, or they feature a huge inventory of RealAudio and MP3 files, like The Kolagian Languages, or the songs of Teonaht. Some have elaborate scripts that the newest developments in fontography have been able to showcase. Some, like Tokana and Amman-Iar, are the result of decades of work and are immensely sophisticated. Valdyan has a Website with almost as much information about the 'conculture' as the conlang. Many are a posteriori languages, that is, variations on natural languages, like Brithenig (a mixture of the features of Brythonic and Romance languages); others are a priori -- starting from scratch -- like Elet Anta. Many conlangers strive to make their languages as different from European paradigms as possible. If imaginary languages are bricolages, as Schnapp writes, then conlangers are now looking to Tagalog, Basque, Georgian, Malagasay, and Aztec for ideas, instead of to Welsh, Finnish, and Hebrew, languages Tolkien drew upon for his Elvish. "Ergative" and "trigger" languages are often preferred to the "nominative" languages of Europe. Some people invent for sheer intellectual challenge; others for the beauty and sensuality of combining new and privately meaningful sounds. There are many calls for translation exercises, one of the most popular being 'The Tower of Babel' (Genesis 10: 1-9). The most recent innovation, and one that not only showcases these languages in all their variety but provides an incentive to learn another conlanger's conlang, is the Translation Relay Game: someone writes a short poem or composition in his or her language and sends it with linguistic information to someone else, who sends a translation with directions to the next in line all the way around again, like playing 'telephone'. The permutations that the Valdyan Starling Song went through give good evidence that these languages are not just relexes, or codes, of natural languages, but have their own linguistic, cultural, and poetic parameters of expression. They differ from real languages in one important respect that has bearing on my remarks about audience: very few conlangers have mastered their languages in the way one masters a native tongue. These creations are more like artefacts (several have compared it to poetry) than they are like languages. One does not live in a dollhouse. One does not normally think or speak in one's conlang, much less speak to another, except through a laborious process of translation. It remains to a longer cultural and sociolinguistic study (underway) to tease out the possibilities and problems of conlanging: why it is done, what does it satisfy, why so few women do it, what are its demographics, or whether it can be turned to pedagogical use in a 'hands-on', high- participation study of language. In this respect, CONLANG is one of the 'coolest' of on-line media. Only time will show what direction conlanging and attitudes towards it will take as the Internet becomes more powerful and widely used. Will the Internet democratise, and eventually make banal, a pursuit that has until now been painted with the romantic brush of lunacy and secrecy? (You can currently download LangMaker, invented by Jeff Henning, to help you construct your own language.) Or will it do the opposite and make language and linguistics -- so often avoided by students or reduced in university programs -- inventive and cutting edge? (The inventor of Tokana has used in-class language invention as a means to study language typology.) Now that we have it, the Internet at least provides conlangers with a place to hang their logodaedalic tapestries, and the technology for some of them to be heard. References Von Bingen, Hildegard. Lingua Ignota, or Wörterbuch der unbekannten Sprache. Eds. Marie-Louise Portmann and Alois Odermatt. Basel: Verlag Basler Hildegard-Gesellschaft, 1986. Eco, Umberto. The Search for the Perfect Language. Trans. James Fentress. Oxford, England, and Cambridge, Mass.: Blackwell, 1995, 1997. Elgin, Suzette Haden. A First Dictionary and Grammar of Láadan. Madison, WI: Society for the Furtherance and Study of Fantasy and Science- Fiction, 1985. Henning, Jeffrey. Model Languages: The Newsletter Discussing Newly Imagined Words for Newly Imagined Worlds. <http://www.Langmaker.com/ml00.htm>. Kennaway, Richard. Some Internet Resources Relating to Constructed Languages. <http://www.sys.uea.ac.uk/jrk/conlang.php>. (The most comprehensive list (with links) of invented languages on the Internet.) Laycock, Donald C. The Complete Enochian Dictionary: A Dictionary of the Angelic Language as Revealed to Dr. John Dee and Edward Kelley. York Beach, Maine: Samuel Weiser, 1994. McLuhan, Marshall. Understanding Media. Reprinted. Cambridge, MA: MIT P, 1994. Salamon, Jeff. "Revenge of the Fanboys." Village Voice 13 Sep., 1994. Schnapp, Jeffrey. "Virgin Words: Hildegard of Bingen's Lingua Ignota and the Development of Imaginary Languages Ancient and Modern." Exemplaria 3.2 (1991): 267-98. Tolkien, J.R.R. "A Secret Vice." The Monsters and the Critics and Other Essays. Ed. Christopher Tolkien. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1984. 198-223. Wilkins, John. An Essay Towards a Real Character and a Philosophical Language. Presented to the Royal Society of England in 1668. Wittgenstein, Ludwig. Philosophical Investigations. 3rd ed. Trans. G.E.M. Anscombe. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice Hall, 1958. Yaguello, Marina. Lunatic Lovers of Language: Imaginary Languages and Their Inventors. Trans. Catherine Slater. (Les fous du langage. 1985.) London: The Athlone Press, 1991. Citation reference for this article MLA style: Sarah L. Higley. "Audience, Uglossia, and CONLANG: Inventing Languages on the Internet." M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 3.1 (2000). [your date of access] <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/0003/languages.php>. Chicago style: Sarah L. Higley, "Audience, Uglossia, and CONLANG: Inventing Languages on the Internet," M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 3, no. 1 (2000), <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/0003/languages.php> ([your date of access]). APA style: Sarah L. Higley. (2000) Audience, Uglossia, and CONLANG: Inventing Languages on the Internet. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 3(1). <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/0003/languages.php> ([your date of access]).