Добірка наукової літератури з теми "Himalaya Mountains Region – Description and travel"

Aim: promotion of the walking route by the Chornohora Ridge of the Ukrainian Carpathians in the section from Hoverla to Pip Ivan mountain. Methods: observation, measurement, description, comparison, analysis, analogy, cartographic, statistical. Based on radar survey data SRTM and Global Mapper program it was created a three-dimensional image of the studied region. The SAS.Planet program was used to measure distances. Results: A three-dimensional image of the Ukrainian Carpathians was created using SRTM data. The main information about the highest Chornohirskyi Ridge in these mountains was presented. The route from Hoverla to Pip Ivan mountain is described. It is proposed to call it the Chernohirskyi Trail. Data on the height of the terrain at the beginning and end of the route are shown. A brief description of the tourist attractions on the trail is provided, including lakes Nesamovyte and Brebeneskul. Information on the meteorological and at the same time astronomical observatory "White Elephant", which was built on the eve of the Second World War was presented. Modern measures for its restoration are described, in particular as to installation of an automated meteorological station on its roof. Based on observations on nearby meteorological stations, the climatic conditions on the route were identified. Data about air temperature in January and in the warm period of the year are presented. The features of air temperature changes, depending on elevation, are established. Data on the amount of precipitation at existing meteorological stations in the mountains are provided. Information on the height of snow cover was presented. The features of snow formation and its disappearance in the southeastern part of the Ukrainian Carpathians are shown. Scientific novelty. The hiking route by the Chornohora Ridge of the Ukrainian Carpathians is substantiated as brand of Ukrainian hiking tourism. The expediency of traffic from Hoverla to Pip Ivan has been proved. It was found that at altitudes above 1000 m the decrease in air temperature in July is 0.40 C per 100 m altitude, in August – 0.30 C per 100 m. It is substantiated that the best time to travel along the Chornohirskyi Ridge is August. The significant distribution of snow cover on the Chornohirskyi Ridge, which is the highest within the Ukrainian Carpathians, is shown. Practical significance: popularization of tourism in the Ukrainian Carpathians, providing tourists with information to make travel more interesting and safe.

The paper deals with the taxonomy of brachypterous species of the subgenus Bottchrus Jedlička, 1935 of the genus Trichotichnus Morawitz, 1863 occurring in the Himalayan region. The following new species are described: T. (B.) baglungensis sp. n. from the Baglung Lekh mountain range, Baglung District, western Central Nepal; T. (B.) parvulus sp. n. from Mt. Panchhase and the Krapa Danda mountain range, Kaski District, western Central Nepal; T. (B.) bubsaensis sp. n. from the eastern slope of the middle Dudh Koshi Valley near Bubsa, Solu Khumbu District, eastern Central Nepal; T. (B.) schawalleri sp. n. from the western slope of the Arun Valley, Bhojpur District, East Nepal; T. (B.) obliquebasalis sp. n. from the Khimti Khola Valley near Shivalaya, Dolakha District, eastern Central Nepal; T. (B.) panchhaseensis sp. n. from Mt. Panchhase, Kaski District, western Central Nepal; T. (B.) siklesensis sp. n. from the Sikles mountain range on the southern slope of Annapurna Peak II, western Central Nepal; T. (B.) pusillus sp. n. from the south-western slopes of Manaslu Himal (Bara Pokhari Lekh and Dudh Pokhari Lekh mountain ranges), and from the south-eastern slope of Annapurna Himal (Telbrung Danda mountain range), Lamjung District, western Central Nepal; T. (B.) ganeshensis sp. n. from the south-western slope of Ganesh Himal, Nuwakot District, Central Nepal; T. (B.) minutus sp. n. from the mountains surrounding the Kathmandu Valley (Shivapuri Lekh, Mt. Phulchoki), Central Nepal; T. (B.) gupchiensis sp. n. from the Gupchi Danda mountain range on the south-eastern slope of Manaslu Himal, Gorkha District, western Central Nepal; T. (B.) brancuccii sp. n. from the southern slope of the Helambu mountain range, Sindhupalchok District, Central Nepal; T. (B.) manasluensis sp. n. from the Bara Pokhari Lekh mountain range on the south-western slope of Manaslu Himal, Lamjung District, western Central Nepal; T. (B.) sikkimensis sp. n. from Pelling near Geyzing, West Sikkim, India; T. (B.) martensi sp. n. from the western slopes of the Singalila mountain range, Taplejung District, East Nepal. The following four species are redescribed: brachypterous T. (B.) holzschuhi Kirschenhofer, 1992; T. (B.) cyanescens Ito, 1998; T. (B.) hingstoni Andrewes, 1930; and dimorphic T. (B.) birmanicus Bates, 1892; and new data on their distribution are provided. The lectotype is designated for T. hingstoni Andrewes, 1930. The following two new synonyms are proposed: Trichotichnus birmanicus Bates, 1892 = T. (Bellogenus) probsti Kirschenhofer, 1992, syn. n., and T. hingstoni Andrewes, 1930 = T. (Pseudotrichotichnus) curvatus Ito, 1996, syn. n. The brachypterous and dimorphic species of Bottchrus known from the Himalaya are divided into eight informal groups based mostly on the degree of reduction of hindwings and the configuration of the median lobe of the aedeagus, and their relationships are briefly discussed. The distributional data of all these species are mapped.

The article specifies the type locality of the Steppe Ribbon Racer. The holotype Coluber (Taphrometopon) lineolatus Brandt, 1838 is stored in the reptile collection of the Zoological Institute of the Russian Academy of Sciences (ZISP No 2042). Literature sources provide different information about the type locality. A mistake has been made in the title of the work with the original species description: the western coast of the sea was indicated instead of the eastern one. The place of capture was indicated as “M. Caspium” (Caspian Sea) on the label and in the reptile inventory book of the Zoological Museum of the Academy of Sciences. The specimen was sent to the museum by G.S. Karelin. The “1842” indicated on the labels and in the inventory book cannot be the year of capture of the type specimen, just as the “1837” indicated by A.M. Nikolsky. In 1837, Karelin was in Saint Petersburg and in 1842 in Siberia. Most likely, 1837 is the year when the collection arrived at the Museum, and 1842 is the year when the information about the specimen was recorded in the inventory book (catalog) of the Zoological Museum of the Academy of Sciences. In our opinion, the holotype was caught in 1932. From Karelin’s travel notes of the expedition to the Caspian Sea in 1832, follows that the snake was recorded in two regions adjacent to the eastern coast of the Caspian Sea – Ungoza Mountain (“Mangyshlak Mountains”) and site of the Western Chink of Ustyurt between Zhamanairakty and Kyzyltas Mountains (inclusive) on the northeast coast of Kaydak Sor (“Misty Mountains”). In our article, Karelin’s route to the northeastern coast of the Caspian Sea in 1832 and photographs of these localities are given. The type locality of Psammophis lineolatus (Brandt, 1838) should be restricted to the Mangystau Region of the Kazakhstan: Ungoza Mountain south of Sarytash Gulf, Mangystau (Mangyshlak) Penninsula (44°26´ N, 51°12´ E).

The study analyzes an important fragment from the text of Ibn Battuta, which can be identified as relating to the south-east of Ukraine, which for a long time was absent in Russian language translations of memoirs. The purposeof the research is to find the facts from the history of Russia described by comparing Ibn Battuta’s translations, and to use the methods of related sciences to identify objects mentioned by the traveler as belonging to the south-east of Ukraine. The methods of research are based on a comparative analysis of the English translation of Ibn Battuta in the early 19th century. comparing it to Russian translations written at the same time. Having singled out the text that was “abbreviated” in the early Russian translations, we identify the areas described by the traveler thanks to the existing data on the geology of Ukraine. Results: 1) the silver ingots of the Ruthenians mentioned by Ibn Battuta (suwam), according to the description and the named weight correspond to the Kyiv hryvnia of the 12th–13th centuries; 2) the way of travel from the Tatar capital to the Azov and Tavria described by the traveler identifies the “Ruthenian Mountains” as an element of the landscape in the south-east of Ukraine; 3) the geological data allow further identification of these mountains as the Donets Ridge, according to information about silver deposits in the Donbas; 4) these facts, together with materials on the locations of the Crimea, were in one form or another omitted in Russian translations of memoirs. Conclusions: 1) the Kyiv hryvnia continued to be used in Ukraine in the 14th century. and was recognized in the Golden Horde; 2) silver deposits in Donetsk region could have been a source of Ruthenian silver mining, possibly in the past as well (minting of silver coins by Vladimir the Great); 3) the region was strongly associated with Ruthenia, the Tatars called it the “Ruthenians’ mountains”, belonging to, or associated with “their country”; 4) further research is required on why the excerpts regarding the weight of “suwam”, allowing to identify it as the Kiev hryvnia, were hidden for Russian language readers until 1884, and those on Saltuk the diviner, which show more details on Crimean and Azov geography and history of Muslim settlement, were changed in translation.Key words: Donbas, Donets Ridge, Crimea, memoirs, travelogue, Pryazovia. У дослідженні аналізується важливий фрагмент із тексту Ібн Баттути, який можна ідентифікувати як такий, що стосується південного сходу України, але при цьому тривалий час його не наводили в російськомовних перекладах мемуарів. Мета дослідження – шляхом порівняння перекладів Ібн Баттути знайти описані ним факти з історії Русі, а також за допомогою методів суміжних наук ідентифікувати згадані мандрівником об’єкти як такі, що стосуються південного сходу України. Методи дослідження ґрунтуються на компаративному аналізі англомовного перекладу Ібн Баттути початку XIX ст. порівняно з російськими «ровісниками». Шляхом виокремлення тексту, який було «скорочено» в ранніх російських перекладах, ми ідентифікуємо окреслені мандрівником території завдяки дослідженим даним із геології України. Результати дослідження: 1) згадані Ібн Баттутою срібні злитки русинів (сувам, саум, суми) за описом і названою вагою відповідають київській гривні XII–XIII ст.; 2) описаний мандрівником шлях подорожі з татарської столиці до Візантії ідентифікує «Руські гори» як елемент ландшафту на південному сході України; 3) дані геології дають змогу надалі ідентифікувати ці гори як Донецький кряж (згідно з інформацією про родовища срібла на Донбасі); 4) ці дані разом із матеріалами про локації Криму були в тому чи іншому вигляді скорочені в російськомовних перекладах мемуарів. Висновки: 1) київська гривня продовжувала використовуватися в Україні в XIV ст. та була визнана в Золотій Орді; 2) срібні родовища Донеччини могли бути джерелом руського видобутку срібла, можливо, і в минулі століття (карбування срібної монети Володимиром); 3) зазначений регіон настільки міцно асоціювався з Руссю, що татари звали його «горами Русів», визначали як належний до «їхньої країни» або пов’язаний із ними; 4) подальшого дослідження вимагає з’ясування того, чому матеріали про вагу «сувам», які дають можливість ідентифікувати його як київську гривню, приховувалися в російському перекладі до 1884 р., а матеріали про Салтука-віщуна, які дають змогу більш детально розкрити особливості кримської і приазовської географії та історію мусульманського заселення, були змінені.Ключові слова: Донбас, Донецький кряж, Крим, мемуари, травелог, Приазов’я.

Introduction: Serial Space“It feels …like the edge of the world; far more remote than it actually is, perhaps because it looks at such immensity” (Godden “Black,” 38). This is the priest’s warning to Sister Clodagh in Rumer Godden’s 1939 novel Black Narcissus. The young, inexperienced Clodagh leads a group of British nuns through the Indian Himalayas and onto a remote mountain top above Mopu. Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger adapted Godden’s novel into the celebrated feature film, Black Narcissus (1947). Following the novel, the film narrates the nuns’ mission to establish a convent, school, and hospital for the local population. Yet, immensity moves in mysterious ways. Sister Clodagh (Deborah Kerr) loses her managerial grip. Sister Philippa (Flora Robson) cultivates wild flowers instead of vegetables. Sister Ruth (Kathleen Byron) sheds nun’s attire for red lipstick and a Parisian dress. The young Indian woman Kanchi (Jean Simmons) becomes a force of libidinous disturbance. At the twilight of the British Empire, white, western nuns experience the psychical effects of colonialism at the precipice. Taking such cues from Pressburger and Powell’s film, Michelle Williams Gamaker, an artist, filmmaker, and scholar, responds to Black Narcissus, both film and novel. She does so through a radical interpretation of her own. Gamaker William’s 24-minute film, The Fruit Is There to Be Eaten (forthcoming, London 2018) is a longer “short,” which breaks the mould of what scholar Linda Hutcheon would term an “adaptation” (2006). For Hutcheon, there is a double “mode of engagement” between an original work and its adapted form (22). On the one hand, there is a “transcoding” (22). This involves “transporting” characters from a precedent work to its adapted form (11). On the other, there is an act of “creative interpretation” (22). The Fruit Is There to Be Eaten transports yet recreates the Indian “beggar girl” Kanchi, played by a “blacked up” white Hollywood actor Jean Simmons (Black Narcissus), into Williams Gamaker’s contemporary Kanchi, played by Krishna Istha. In this 2018 instalment, Kanchi is an Asian and transgender protagonist of political articulacy. Hence, Williams Gamaker’s film engages a double tactic of both transporting yet transforming Kanchi, as well as Sisters Clodagh and Philippa, from the feature film into The Fruit Is There to Be Eaten. To analyse Williams Gamaker’s film, I will make a theoretical jump off the precipice, stepping from Hutcheon’s malleable concept of adaptation into a space of “trans-serial” narrative.In what follows, I shall read The Fruit Is There to Be Eaten as an “episode” in a serial. The prior episodes, Williams Gamaker’s House of Women (London 2017, Berlin 2018) is a short, fictional, and surreal documentary about casting the role of Kanchi. It can be read as the next episode in Kanchi’s many incarnations. The relationship between Sister Clodagh (Kelly Hunter as voiceover) and Kanchi in House of Women develops from one of confrontation to a transgender kiss in the climatic beat of The Fruit Is There to Be Eaten. Williams Gamaker’s film can be read as one of a series which is itself inflected with the elements of a “trans-serial.” Henry Jenkins argues that “transmedia storytelling represents a process where integral elements of a fiction get dispersed systematically across multiple delivery channels” (emphasis in original, “Transmedia”). I use the word “trans” to define the gap between novelistic texts and film. Throughout Williams Gamaker’s series, she uses many textual citations from Godden’s novel, and dialogue from Pressburger and Powell’s film. In other words, verbal elements as well as filmic images are adapted in Hutcheon’s sense and transmediated in Jenkins’s sense. To build the “serial” concept for my analysis requires re-working concepts from television studies. Jason Mittell introduces “narrative complexity” as the “redefinition of episodic forms under serial narration” (“Narrative,” 32). In serial TV, characters and narratives develop over a sequence of episodes and seasons. In serial TV, missing one episode can thwart the viewer’s reception of later ones. Mittell’s examples reveal the plasticity of the narrative complexity concept. He mentions TV series that play games with the audience’s expectations. As Mittell points out, Seinfeld has reflexive qualities (“Narrative,” 35) and Twin Peaks mixes genres (“Narrative,” 33). I would add that Lynch’s creative liberties offered characters who could appear and disappear while leaving their arcs hanging intriguingly unresolved. The creative possibilities of reflexivity via seriality, of characters who appear and disappear or return in different guises, are strategies that underpin William’s Gamaker’s short film serial. The third in her trilogy, The Eternal Return (in post-production 2018) fictionalises the life of Sabu, the actor who played the General’s son in Black Narcissus. Once again, the protagonist, this time male, is played by Krishna Istha, a non-binary transgender actor who, by taking all the lead roles in William’s Gamaker’s trilogy, grows over the serial as a malleable ethnic and transgender subject. Importantly, The Eternal Return carries residues of the characters from The Fruit Is There to Be Eaten by casting the same team of actors again (Charlotte Gallagher and myself Catherine Lord), and switching their genders. Istha played Kanchi in the previous two episodes. The General’s son, played by Sabu, courted Kanchi in Black Narcissus. In The Eternal Return, Istha crosses the character and gender boundary by playing Sabu. Such casting tactics subvert the gender and colonial hegemonies inherent in Pressburger and Powell’s film.The reflexive and experimental approach of Williams Gamaker’s filmmaking deploys serial narrative tactics for its political goals. Yet, the use of “serial” needs to be nuanced. Glen Creeber sets out three terms: “episodic,” “series” and “serial.” For Creeber, a series provides continuous storylines in which the connection between episodes is strong. In the serial format, the connection between the episodes is less foregrounded. While it is not possible to enjoy stand-alone episodes in a serial, at the same time, serials produce inviting gaps between episodes. Final resolutions are discouraged so that there are greater narrative possibilities for later seasons and the audience’s own game of speculative storytelling (11).The emerging “serial” gaps between Williams Gamaker’s episodes offer opportunities for political interpretation. From House of Women and The Fruit Is There to Be Eaten, Kanchi develops an even stronger political voice. Kanchi’s character arc moves from the wordless obedience of Pressburger and Powell’s feature to the transgender voice of post-colonial discourse in House of Women. In the next episode, The Fruit Is There to Be Eaten, Kanchi becomes Clodagh’s guide both politically, spiritually, and erotically.I will read The Fruit Is There to Be Eaten as both my primary case-study and as the third episode in what I shall theorise to be a four-part serial. The first is the feature film Black Narcissus. After this is Williams Gamaker’s House of Women, which is then followed by The Fruit Is There to Be Eaten, my central case study here. There may be immediate objections to my argument that Williams Gamaker’s series can be read by treating Pressburger and Powell’s feature as the first in the series. After all, Godden’s novel could be theorised as the camouflaged pilot. Yet, a series or serial is defined as such when it is in the same medium. Game of Thrones (2011-) is a TV series that adapts George R.R. Martin’s novel cycle, but the novels are not episodes. In this regard, I follow Hutcheon’s emphasis on theorising adapted works as forged between different media, most commonly novels to films. The adaptive “deliveries” scatter through The Fruit Is There to Be Eaten with an ecological precision.Eco SeriesEcological descriptions from Godden’s novel and Pressburger and Powell’s mise-en-scene are performed in The Fruit Is There to Be Eaten through Kelly Hunter’s velvety voiceover as it enjoys a painterly language: butterflies daub the ferns with “spots of ochre, scarlet, and lemon sherbet.” Hutcheon’s term transcoding usefully describes the channelling of particles from the novelist’s text into an intensified, ecological language and cinematic mise-en-scene. The intensification involves an ingestion of Godden’s descriptive prose, which both mimics and adds an adjectival and alliterative density. The opening descriptions of the nuns’ arrival in Mopu is a case in point. In the novel, the grooms joke about the nuns’ habits appearing as “snows, tall and white” (Godden “Black,” 1). One man remarks that they look like “a row of teeth” (Godden “Black,” 2). Williams Gamaker resists shots of nuns as Godden described them, namely on Bhotiya ponies. Rather, projected onto a white screen is an image of white and red flowers slowly coming into focus. Kelly Hunter’s voiceover describes the white habits as a set of “pearly whites” which are “hungry for knowledge” and “eat into the landscape.” White, western nuns in white habits are metaphorically implied to be like a consuming mouth, eating into Indian territories and Indian people.This metaphor of colonial consumption finds its corollary in Godden’s memoirs where she describes the Pressburger, Powell, and Simons representation of Kanchi as “a basket of fruit, piled high and luscious and ready to eat” (“A House,” 24-5; 52). The nun’s quest colonially consumes Mopu’s natural environment. Presumably, nuns who colonially eat consume the colonised Other like fruit. The Kanchi of the feature film Black Narcissus is a supporting character, performed by Simmons as mute, feral and objectified. If Kanchi is to release herself from the “fruity” projections of sexism and racism, it will be through the filmmaker’s aesthetic and feminist tactic of ensuring that planets, trees, fruits and flowers become members of the film cast. If in episode 1 (Black Narcissus), plants and Asian subalterns are colonised, in episode 2, House of Women, these fruits and flowers turn up as smart, young Asian women actors with degrees in law and photography, ready to hold their own in the face of a faceless interviewer. In episode 3, The Fruit Is There to Be Eaten, it is important that Krishna Istha’s Kanchi, turning up like a magical character from another time and space (transformed from episode 1), commands the film set amidst an excess of flowers, plants and fruits. The visual overflow correlates with Kanchi’s assertiveness. Flowers and Kanchi know how to “answer back.”Like Black Narcissus the feature, The Fruit Is There to Be Eaten relies heavily on a mise-en-scene of horticultural and mountain ecology. Just as Michael Powell filmed at Pinewood and Leonardslee Gardens in East Sussex, Williams Gamaker used Rotherhithe’s Brunel Museum roof Gardens and Sands Film Studios. The lusciousness of Leonardslee is film-intertextually echoed in the floral exuberance of the 2018 shots of Rotherhithe. After the crew have set up the classroom, interwoven with Kelly Hunter’s voiceover, there is a hard cut to a full, cinematic shot of the Leonardslee garden (fig. 1).Then cutting back to the classroom, we see Kanchi calmly surveying the set, of which she is the protagonist, with a projection of an encyclopaedic display of the flowers behind her. The soundtrack plays the voices of young women students intoning the names of flowers from delphinium to lupens.These meta-filmic moments are supported by the film’s sharp juxtaposition between classroom and outdoor scenes. In Pressburger and Powell’s school scenes, Sister Ruth attempts to teach the young General how to conjugate the French verb “recevoir.” But the lesson is not successfully received. The young General becomes aphasic, Kanchi is predictably mute and the children remain demure. Will colonialism let the Other speak? One way to answer back in episode 3 is through that transgressive discourse, the language of flowers.In The Fruit Is There to Be Eaten, the young women study under Sister Clodagh and Sister Philippa (myself, Catherine Lord). The nuns teach botanical lists and their ecological contexts through rote learning. The young women learn unenthusiastically. What is highlighted is the ludicrous activity of repetition and abstractions. When knowledge becomes so objectified, so do natural environments, territories and people. Clodagh aligns floral species to British locations. The young women are relatively more engaged in the garden with Sister Philippa. They study their environment through sketching and painting a diverse range of flowers that could grow in non-British territory. Philippa is the now the one who becomes feral and silent, stroking stalks and petals, eschewing for the time being, the game of naming (fig. 2).However, lessons with colonial lexicons will be back. The young women look at screen projections of flowers. Sister Philippa takes the class through an alphabet: “D is for Dogbright … L is for Ladies’ Fingers.” Clodagh whirls through a list of long, Latin names for wild flowers in British Woodlands. Kanchi halts Clodagh’s act of associating the flowers with the British location, which colonizes them. Kanchi asks: “How many of us will actually travel, and which immigration border will test our botanical knowledge?” Kanchi then presents a radically different alphabet, including “Anne is African … Ian is Intersex … Lucy loves Lucy.” These are British names attributed to Africans, Arabs, and Asians, many of their identities revealed to be LGBQT-POC, non-binary, transgender, and on the move. Clodagh’s riposte is “How do you know you are not travelling already?” The flowers cannot be pinned down to one location. They cannot be owned by one nation.Like characters who travel between episodes, the travelling flowers represent a collision of spaces that undermine the hegemonies of race, gender and sexuality. In episode 1, Black Narcissus the feature film, the western nuns face the immensities of mountain atmosphere, ecology and an unfamiliar ethnic group. In episode 2, House of Women, the subalterns have transformed their role, achieving educational and career status. Such political and dramatic stakes are raised in episode 3, The Fruit Is There to Be Eaten. There is a strong focus on the overlapping oppressions of racial, colonial and ecological exploitation. Just as Kanchi has a character arc and serial development, so do plants, fauna, fruits, flowers and trees. ‘Post’-Space and Its AtmosphereThe British Empire colonised India’s ecological space. “Remember you and your God aren't on British Territory anymore” declares the auditioning Krishna Istha in House of Women. Kanchi’s calm, civil disobedience continues its migration into The Fruit is There to be Eaten between two simultaneously existing spaces, Mopu and Rotherhithe, London. According to literature scholar Brian McHale, postmodern worlds raise ontological questions about the dramatic space into which we are drawn. “Which” worlds are we in? Postmodern worlds can overlap between separate spaces and different temporalities (McHale 34-35). As McHale notes, “If entities can migrate across the semipermeable membrane that divides a fictional world from the real, they can also migrate between two different fictional worlds” (35).In The Fruit Is There to Be Eaten, the semipermeable membrane between it and Black Narcissus folds together the temporalities of 1947 and 2018, and the terrains of India and London. Sister Philippa tells a Kanchi seeking Mopu, that “My dear, you are already here.” This would seem odd as Sister Philippa describes the death of a young man close to Saint Mary’s Church, London. The British capital and woodlands and the Himalayas co-exist as intensified, inter-crossing universes that disrupt the membranes between both colonial and ecological space-time, or what I term “post-space.”Williams Gamaker’s post-spaces further develop Pressburger and Powell’s latent critique of post-colonialism. As film scholar Sarah Street has observed, Black Narcissus the film performs a “post-colonial” exploration of the waning British Empire: “Out of the persistence of the colonial past the present is inflected with a haunting resonance, creating gaps and fissures” (31). This occurs in Powell’s film in the initial Calcutta scenes. The designer Alfred Junge made “God shots” of the nuns at dinner, creating from them the iconic shape of a cross. This image produces a sense of over-exactness. Once in the mountains, it is the spirit of exactitude that deteriorates. In contrast, Williams Gamaker prefers to reveal the relative chaos of setting up her world. We watch as the crew dress the school room. Un-ceremoniously, Kanchi arrives in shorts before she picks up a floral dress bearing the label “Kanchi.” There is then a shot in which Kanchi purveys the organised set, as though she is its organiser (fig. 3).Post-spaces are rich in atmosphere. The British agent Dean tells Clodagh in Black Narcissus the film that the mountain “is no place to put a nunnery” due its “atmosphere.” In the climactic scene of The Fruit Is There to Be Eaten, Kanchi and Clodagh face two screens revealing the atmospheric projection of the high mountains, the black cut between them visible, like some shadowy membrane. Such aesthetic strategies continue Powell’s use of technical artifice. Street details the extensive labour of technical and craft work involved in creating the artificial world of Black Narcissus, its mountains, artificial colours, and hence atmosphere, all constructed at Pinewood studios. There was a vast amount of matte painting and painting on glass for special effects (19).William Gamaker’s screens (projection work by Sophie Bramley and Nick Jaffe) reflexively emphasise atmosphere as artifices. The atmosphere intensifies with the soundscape of mountain air and Wayne Urquhart’s original and haunting music. In Powell and Pressburger’s feature, Brian Easdale’s music also invokes a sense of mystery and vastness. Just as TV series and serials maintain musical and mise-scene-scene signatures from one episode to another, so too does Williams Gamaker reframe her precursor’s cinematic aesthetics with that of her own episode. Thus, serial as stylistic consistency is maintained between episodes and their post-spaces.At the edge of such spaces, Kanchi will scare Clodagh by miming a tight-rope walk across the mountain: it is both real and pretend, dramatic, but reflexively so. Kanchi walks a membrane between colliding worlds, between colonialism and its transgression. In this episode of extreme spirituality and eroticism, Kanchi reaches greater heights than in previous episodes, discoursing on the poetics of atmosphere: “… in the midst of such peaks, one can draw near what is truly placeless … the really divine.” Here, the membrane between the political and cultural regions and the mountains that eschew even the human, is about to be breached. Kanchi relates the legend of those who go naked in the snow. These “Abominable Men” are creatures who become phantoms when they merge with the mountain. If the fractures between locations are too spacious, as Kanchi warns, one can go mad. In this episode 3, Kanchi and Clodagh may have completed their journeys. In Powell and Pressburger’s interpretation, Sister Ruth discards nun’s attire for a Parisian, seductive dress and red lipstick. Yet, she does so for a man, Dean. However, the Sister Clodagh of 2018 is filmed in a very long take as she puts on an elegant dress and does her make-up. In a scene of philosophical intimacy with Kanchi, the newly dressed Clodagh confesses her experience of “immensity.” As they break through the erotic membrane separating their identities, both immersed in their full, queer, transgender kiss, all racial hierarchies melt into atmosphere (fig. 4).Conclusion: For a Pitch By making a film as one episode in a series, Williams Gamaker’s accomplishment is to enhance the meeting of narrative and political aims. As an arthouse film serial, The Fruit Is There to Be Eaten has enabled definitions of “serial” to migrate from the field of television studies. Between Hutcheon’s “adaptation” and Mittell and Creeber’s articulations of “narrative complexity,” a malleable concept for arthouse seriality has emerged. It has stretched the theoretical limits of what can be meant by a serial in an arthouse context. By allowing the notion of works “adapted” to occur between different media, Henry Jenkins’ broader term of “transmedia storytelling” (Convergence) can describe how particles of Godden’s work transmigrate through episodes 1, 2, and 3, where the citational richness emerges most in episodes 3, The Fruit Is There to Be Eaten.Because one novel informs all the episodes while each has entirely different narratives and genres, The Fruit Is There to Be Eaten is not a serial adaptation, as is Game of Thrones. It is an experimental serial inflected with trans-serial properties. Kanchi evolves into a postcolonial, transgender, ecological protagonist who can traverse postmodern worlds. Perhaps the witty producer in a pitch meeting might say that in its serial context, The Fruit Is There to Be Eaten is like a cross between two fantasy TV serials, still to be written: Transgender Peaks meets Kanchi Is the New Black. The “new black” is multifaceted and occupies multi-worlds in a post-space environment. ReferencesCreeber, Glen. Serial Television: Big Drama on the Small Screen. London: BFI, 2004.Godden, Rumer. 1939. Black Narcissus: A Virago Modern Classic. London: Hatchette Digital, 2013.———. A House with Four Rooms. New York: William Morrow, 1989. Hutcheon, Linda. A Theory of Adaptation. 2nd ed. New York: New York University Press, 2012.Jenkins, Henry. Convergence Culture: Where Old and New Media Collide. New York: New York University Press, 2006.———. “Transmedia, 202: Further Reflections.” Confessions of an Aca-Fan 1 Aug. 2011. 1 May 2012 <http://henryjenkins.org/blog/2011/08/defining_transmedia_further_re.html>.McHale, Brian. Postmodernist Fiction. London: Routledge, 1987.Powell, Michael. A Life in Movies: An Autobiography. London: Heinemann, 1986.Mittell, Jason. “Narrative Complexity in Contemporary American Television.” The Velvet Light Trap 58 (Fall 2006): 29-40. Street, Sarah. Black Narcissus. London: I.B. Tauris, 2005.FilmographyBlack Narcissus. Dirs. Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger. Pinewood Studios, 1947.House of Women. Dir. Michelle Williams Gamaker. Cinema Suitcase, 2017.The Fruit Is There to Be Eaten. Dir. Michelle Williams Gamaker. Cinema Suitcase, 2018.The Eternal Return. Dir. Michelle Williams Gamaker. Cinema Suitcase, 2018-2019.

'Let me give you an analogy; analogies, it is true, decide nothing, but they can make one feel more at home.' -- Sigmund Freud, New Introductory Lectures 72 (1933) This paper emerged from a larger study of Freud's view of culture, which used elements of Freud's own way of proceeding to mount a critique of the elaboration of that view. It is proposed here that the use of analogy is foundational to Freud's procedure in building his model of the mind, rather than just a temporary means to an end, and, crucially, that Freud is himself unaware of both the necessity of the analogical move and also of his desire for it. The creation of the concept of the Freudian psyche is a rhetorical tour de force, a structure made of figures of speech, the chief among which is the analogy. Freud constructs an analogy between culture and mind: what is left of his theory of both if this rhetorical connexion is removed? In the opening pages of one of his last works Freud considers the problem of the interpretation of culture, and he concludes that there too it is a question of getting the patient on the couch: '... one is justified [he writes] in attempting to discover a psychoanalytic -- that is, a genetic explanation ...' -- in that psychoanalysis is a method of explaining the origins of present condition of such things as states of mind, to which culture more generally is analogous (Civilization 65). Understanding may be an end in itself, but there may be a more practical purpose in bringing psychoanalysis to bear: a culture may become sick, neurotic, and psychoanalysis may be able to play a part in understanding the nature of the problem, if not also in treating it. Civilization and Its Discontents concludes with the idea that 'we may expect that one day someone will venture to embark upon a pathology of cultural communities' (144). What Freud has to say about culture can be read, I propose, on a number of levels. The smallest elements which begin to reveal meaning -- which are capable of being differentiated in a meaningful way, and therefore analysed as texts -- are parapraxes and the minute revelations of the psychoanalytic techniques of free association and dream analysis. A second level of text is that produced by a unitary, identified 'author', such as Wilhelm Jensen's Gradiva, or Leonardo da Vinci's Virgin with St Anne. An epoch, such as Freud's Civilization (and its Discontents), and then his view of a species (as in Totem and Taboo), each with its own teleology, form texts of a higher order. My engagement with Freud here is with his method of argument by analogy. On some occasions he makes explicit the extent to which he is dependent on (flexible!) analogies of the description of his method -- as when he writes this in The Question of Lay Analysis: 'In psychology we can only describe things by the help of analogies. There is nothing peculiar in this, it is the case elsewhere as well. But we have constantly to keep changing these analogies, for none of them lasts us long enough. (195) In a key moment in The Psychopathology of Everyday Life, he again explicitly uses analogy instead of argument, writing: 'Instead of a discussion, however, I shall bring forward an analogy to deal with the objection' (21). This is a point at which he is dealing with the reason for the forgetting of names, and although he is not yet prepared to indicate what is in his view the precise reason for this (namely: repression), he wishes to persuade his reader to stay with him; and so he inserts a narrative about what we would now call a mugging, an event with just the right combination of violence and yet familiarity to allow readers to accept that such things happen but that the agents are usually unknown. That he is confident of the efficacy of this procedure is indicated by that fact that he uses the same analogy again in the Lecture 3 of the Introductory Lectures on Psychoanalysis (40-59). Although Freud uses analogy -- as a comparison between two separate and distinct and different things -- what he is most interested in is primary process. This is a mode of thinking which may be capable of an awareness of the differences between things, but is more interested in their confluences (overdetermination and condensation), and their similarities and ability to replace each other (displacement). I suggest that analogy is actually primary process subjected to 'secondary revision', and that Freud is himself unaware of the source of his recurrent need to use analogy. Consider also the 'Slovakia' example in Lecture 23 of the New Introductory Lectures on Psychoanalysis, in which Freud is extrapolating his division of the mind into the three parts: super-ego, ego and id, the 'three realms, regions, provinces, into which we divide an individual's mental apparatus...' He introduces this in a characteristically persuasive way: 'Let me give you an analogy; analogies, it is true, decide nothing, but they can make one feel more at home' (New Introductory Lectures 72). He then proceeds to a brief description of some of the characteristics of (what is now) Slovakia, in which German, Magyars and Slovaks live, in which there are three kinds of topography and also three groups of industry. He constructs the image partly to demonstrate the complexity of the interrelationships of the parts of the mental apparatus (and partly to have a shot at the powers that at Versailles divided up parts of Europe), and to show that the assignment of distinct names to them tends to obscure the way in which they in fact overlap and interact. However, what the analogy powerfully imports is the 'naturalness', indeed the inevitability, of the division into three. Despite the argument actually being that this division is in fact not clear-cut, it nevertheless implies the necessity of the division. So that his audience is all the more ready the accept the tripartite model of the mind. We could analyse this analogy between the two 'geographies' somewhat in the way that Freud would examine the account of a dream. Firstly, there are the day's residues: in this case his experiences in growing up in this part of Europe together with his reflections on the politics of defining a nation. Then we see the conflation of the two different realms of human experience, political geography and metapsychology; and the displacement of the one set of structures for the other. There is also the overdetermination of the tripartite structures: German, Magyars, Slovaks; hills, plains, lakes; cattle, cereals, fish; superego, ego, id. Finally an instance of secondary revision can be clearly seen in the conclusion of Freud's demonstration. If the partitioning could be neat and clear-cut like this, a Woodrow Wilson would be delighted by it; it would also be convenient for a lecture in a geography lesson. The probability is, however, that you will find less orderliness and more missing, if you travel through the region. ... A few things are naturally as you expected, for fish cannot be caught in the mountains and wine does not grow in the water. Indeed, the picture of the region that you brought with you may on the whole fit the facts; but you will have to put up with deviations in the details. (New Introductory Lectures 73) The implication for my analogy (with dream-analysis) is clearly that there will be a slippage between the different meanings of the images as the process of overdetermination tries to get each to do different work at the same time, and certain elements will have to be refined or retuned, whether in the service of more or less precise relation. A final point might be made, while still on the topic of Slovakia. Freud is, as we have seen, critical to some extent of the political-geographical situation that he receives and describes in his image. The reference to the American president suggests that there might have been a better way to carry out the partition, and certainly events in the region in our own very recent past suggest that this is so. Freud, however, is ultimately accepting of many of the aspects of the picture. He takes the different kinds of primary industry as givens: agriculture, viticulture, and the human culture implied in the national names. The fact that an outsider like Wilson might get it wrong only makes clearer the implication that received political geography is meaningful and in some senses right. This is an example of a cultural unconscious about which Freud does not speak because he cannot. It is not that his assumption about this matter, that which is taken-for-granted, is unthinkable: it is unsayable, something which is outside consciousness because it is so taken-for-granted. This kind of unconscious, which I am calling a kind of cultural unconscious for want of a better term -- and perhaps a notion of the 'non-conscious' might be more accurate -- simply cannot be accommodated by consciousness. Here Freud was appealing to geography to make his point. He far more often appeals to the authority of literature. To give a crude example, it is well known that it was the essay on nature -- thought at one time to be by Goethe -- which is supposed to have been the spur that pricked the side of Freud's intent and actually drove him into what was to become psychoanalysis. So literature not only has an inspirational effect for him, but is also evidence of the interpenetration of Freud's mind -- his way of thinking by analogy and citation -- and the culture of which he is the recipient, and in which he is caught up. If analogy is essential to Freud's theory, rather than just part of its explication (and space has permitted mention of only a few instances) -- if analogy functions as the clasps that hold together the new clothes of the Emperor of Psychoanalysis - what happens when the clasps are removed? References References to the works of Freud in English refer by volume to the Standard Edition (SE): Freud, Sigmund. The Standard Edition of the the Complete Psychological Works. 24 vols. London: The Hogarth Press and the Institute of Psychoanalysis, 1953-74. Freud, Sigmund. Civilization and its Discontents. SE 21. (1930.) 59-145. ---. "Delusions and Dreams in Jensen's 'Gradiva'." SE 9. (1907 [1906].) 1-95. ---. Introductory Lectures on Psychoanalysis. SE 15-6. (1916-17.) ---. "Leonardo da Vinci and a Memory of his Childhood." SE 11. (1910.) 59-137. ---. Postscript. SE 20. (1927.) 251-8. ---. New Introductory Lectures on Psychoanalysis. SE 22. (1933.) ---. The Origins of Psychoanalysis. Trans. Eric Mosbacher & James Strachey. Ed. Marie Bonaparte, Anna Freud and Ernst Kris. London: Imago; New York: Basic Books, 1950. (1887-1902.) Partly including "A Project for a Scientific Psychology" (1895), in SE 1. Freud, Sigmund. The Psychopathology of Everyday Life. SE 6. (1901.) ---. "The Question of Lay Analysis." SE 20. (1926.) 177-250. ---. Totem and Taboo. SE 13. (1912-13.) 1-161. Citation reference for this article MLA style: Garry Gillard. "Mind and Culture: Freud and Slovakia." M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 3.2 (2000). [your date of access] <http://www.api-network.com/mc/0005/freud.php>. Chicago style: Garry Gillard, "Mind and Culture: Freud and Slovakia," M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 3, no. 2 (2000), <http://www.api-network.com/mc/0005/freud.php> ([your date of access]). APA style: Garry Gillard. (2000) Mind and culture: Freud and Slovakia. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 3(2). <http://www.api-network.com/mc/0005/freud.php> ([your date of access]).

The period between the 1750s and 1830s witnessed a major change in travel practices in Europe, moving away from the traditional Grand Tour and focusing more on natural places, their visual power, and their influence on individual emotions. Such changes meant that the Alps ceased to be seen as a natural obstacle that had to be crossed in order to access Italy, and became a place to explore and a mountainous space par excellence. This thesis addresses the importance of mental mapping in travel literature and its impact on the construction of the Alps as a transnational space, which eventually facilitated the creation of a viable touristic market in the Alps as we know it today. The first part of the thesis analyses the transformation of the Alps from a natural frontier to a border region explored by travellers and their networks. The second part discusses the consequences of these changes on mental mapping and spatial representations of the Alps by travellers: it highlights the way external visitors often had very subjective interpretations of what the Alps meant as a term and a place, and conveyed those to other travellers through travel writing. Finally, the third part of this work investigates the development of an Alpine myth as a product of these shifting mental representations: the Alps became a set of expectations, typical images, and encounters to be expected.

To understand how the Himalaya were formed it seemed logical to start at the actual zone of plate collision, the Indus suture zone. Most of this collision zone runs across southern Tibet, which in the 1970s was almost impossible to travel through. Following Mao Tse-tung’s Red Army’s invasion and occupation of Tibet in October 1950, that region had remained firmly closed to all foreigners. In the western Himalaya the Indus suture zone runs right across the northernmost province of Ladakh. Ladakh used to be a part of southwestern Tibet before the British annexed it during the Raj. Leh, the ancient capital of Ladakh at 3,500 metres in the Indus Valley, was the final outpost of British India before the great trans-Himalayan barrier of the Karakoram Range. Only the Nubra Valley and the Tangtse Valley north of Leh were beyond the Indus, and these valleys led directly up to the desolate high plateau of Tibet. Leh was a major caravan route and a crossroads of high Asia, with double-humped dromedary camel caravans coming south from the Silk Route towns of Yarkhand and Khotan; Kashmiris and Baltis came from the west and Indian traders from the Hindu regions of Himachal and Chamba to the south. Ladakh, Zanskar, and Zangla were three ancient Himalayan kingdoms ruled by a Giapo, or King, each from a palace that resembled a small version of the Potala Palace in Lhasa. In 1978, when we were climbing in the mountains of Kulu, I had looked from our high summits across to the desert mountains of Lahoul and Zanskar, north of the main Himalayan watershed. Here, in the ancient Buddhist kingdoms of Zanskar and Ladakh lay wave upon wave of unexplored and unclimbed mountains. They lay north of the monsoon limits and in the rain shadow of the main Himalaya, so the vegetation was sparse, and the geology was laid bare. Flying north from Delhi, or east from Kashmir into Leh, the views were simply mesmerizing.