The Channel Posts

Awad’s novel retains the central tropes of a chick flick—namely, an outsider protagonist both repulsed by and attracted to an ‘in-group’ of mean girls—but Awad uses the traditionally youthful and feminine elements of this group to undermine the inculcated reverence of universities as the end-all-be-all of higher education.

Through the analysis of the Arcadia, The Faerie Queene and Pandosto, the assumption that Fortune is infallible is superseded by an emphasis on active human intention, which proves capable of surpassing Fortune’s negativities. Rather than ultimately favouring Fortune, these texts reveal how romance as a genre opens a space for human agency.

Through H.D.’s Hermione and Anand’s Bakha, the process through which ideology is unconsciously reproduced is revealed; however, these characters internalize their respective social misrecognitions differently, illustrating the impact of the caste system in one’s attempts to escape societal confinements.

For Moll, the construction of this alternative identity is a dignified rejection of social expectation; for Erauso it is the adoption of a brutal society he admires. I argue that these gender transgressions are acts of self-identification, not motivated by fear and desperation, but by pride and pleasure. 

TW: This essay contains references to violence throughout and a brief mention of SA in the author’s analysis of power and violence in Titus Andronicus.

His argument presents an antinomy that reveals the contingency behind the process of meaning-making: Socrates’ wisdom is a ‘nothing,’ as it were, in so far as he claims to not know anything; however, by being conscious of this non-wisdom, his comprehension of this fact becomes a form of knowledge that he can possess.

By way of synthesis, I argue that memories of colonial trauma haunt the domestic spaces of Jane Eyre and subsequently disrupt the linear trajectory of Britain’s national history. As such, a central predicament of the novel revolves around the means to purge both its characters and their dwellings of the racialized other to restore a pure and untainted British past in order to transition into an untroubled future. 

The circumstances in which Malory invokes “the Freynshe booke” are varied, but they each operate in one of three distinguishable yet interrelated ways: marking especially notable events and actions as (un)certain, validating conflicted or ambiguous emotional responses, and calling attention to the act of recording or producing truth.

By tracking this evolution of the tongue from an idiom to a personal organ, one sees a parallel progression of the genre’s characters: whereas earlier speakers of autobiographical slave narratives served editor-mediated, abolitionist motives, later contemporary writers reformed the genre by depicting fully fleshed, self-governing individuals.

Though Philip, like Derrida, treats language—specifically the financial and legal language associated with the court cases around the Zong massacre—as an entity that neutralises the violence of the Zong massacre, I nevertheless invoke Derrida, since his focus is on language as such as a metaphysics of presence that will always fail to capture force, which is, in some ways, a broader claim than Philip’s