The candidate : a novella and examination of Australian Gothic crime fiction

Australia is a land without haunted castles or subterranean corridors, without ancient graveyards or decaying monasteries, a land whose climate is rarely gloomy. Yet, the literary landscape is splattered with shades of the Gothic genre. This Gothic heritage is especially evident within elements of nineteenth century Australian sensation fiction. Australian crime fiction in the twentieth century, in keeping with this lineage, repeatedly employs elements of the Gothic, adapting and appropriating these conventions for literary effect. I believe that a ‘mélange’ of historical Gothic crime traditions could produce an exciting new mode of Gothic crime writing in the Australian context. As such, I have written a contemporary literary experiment in a Gothic crime ‘hybrid’ style: this novella forms my creative practice. The accompanying exegesis is a critical study of a selection of Australian literary works that exhibit the characteristics of both Gothic and crime genres. Through an analysis of these creative works, this study argues that the interlacing of Gothic traditions with crime writing conventions has been a noteworthy practice in Australian fiction during both the nineteenth and twentieth centuries and these literary tropes are interwoven in the writing of ‘The Candidate’, a Gothic crime novella.

Wolf Creek, rurality and the Australian gothic

As with Crocodile Dundee before it, the recent Australian film Wolf Creek promotes a specific and arguably urban-centric understanding of rural Australia. However, whilst the former film is couched in mythologized notions of the rural idyll, Wolf Creek is based firmly around the concept of rural horror. Wolf Creek is both a horror movie and a road movie, one which relies heavily upon landscape in order to tell its story. Here we argue that the film continues a tradition in the New Australian Cinema of depicting the outback and its inhabitants as something the country's mostly coastal population do not understand. Wolf Creek skilfully plays on popular conceptions of inland Australia as empty and harsh. But more than this, the film brings to the fore tensions in the rural idyll associated with the ownership and use of rural space. As an object of urban consumption, rural space may appear passive and familiar, but in the context of rural horror iconic aspects of the Australian landscape become a source of fear – a space of abjection.

Australasian horror special issue editorial : putting Australian and New Zealand horror movies on the map of cinema studies

This Australasian horror special issue is an important step forward in putting Australian and New Zealand horror movies on the map of film and cinema studies as a subject worthy of intellectual debate. The journal issue is the first devoted solely to the academic discussion of Australasian horror movies. While an Australian horror movie tradition has produced numerous titles since the 1970s achieving commercial success and cult popularity worldwide, the horror genre is largely missing from Australian film history. While there have been occasional essays on standout titles such as Wolf Creek (Mclean, 2005), an increasing number of articles on ‘Ozploitation’ movies, and irregular discussion about Australian Gothic, overall the nature of Australian horror as a genre remains poorly understood. In terms of New Zealand, debate has tended to revolve around ‘Kiwi Gothic’ and of course Peter Jackon’s early splatter films, rather than Kiwi horror as a specific filmmaking tradition.

Sing fox to me : an investigation into the "use" of Down Syndrome in both the Down Syndrome and Gothic novel

This project investigates the current borders around and within, what I have in this exegesis termed, "the Down Syndrome novel", using a close reading analysis of literary texts containing characters with Down syndrome and contextualised by theoretical works drawn from both disability and literary theory. This practice-led thesis introduces and discusses select fictional characters with Down syndrome from numerous genres, revealing them as highly contained, or "boundaried", spoken for, and generally used for narrative conflict rather than included as individuals with agency and a legitimate, autonomous voice and narrative point of view. In reframing the Australian landscape as "disabled" this exegesis illustrates that the Australian Gothic novel can shift, and sometimes even remove, the boundary around characters with intellectual disabilities, allowing a space where the stories of characters with Down syndrome can emerge.

Australasian horror

This Australasian horror special issue is an important step forward in putting Australian and New Zealand horror movies on the map of film and cinema studies as a subject worthy of intellectual debate. The journal issue is the first devoted solely to the academic discussion of Australasian horror movies. While an Australian horror movie tradition has produced numerous titles since the 1970s achieving commercial success and cult popularity worldwide, the horror genre is largely missing from Australian film history. While there have been occasional essays on standout titles such as Wolf Creek (Mclean, 2005), an increasing number of articles on ‘Ozploitation’ movies, and irregular discussion about Australian Gothic, overall the nature of Australian horror as a genre remains poorly understood. In terms of New Zealand, debate has tended to revolve around ‘Kiwi Gothic’ and of course Peter Jackon’s early splatter films, rather than Kiwi horror as a specific filmmaking tradition.

Horror

The monstrous landscape and the revenge of nature are recurring motifs in Australian cinema. In the horror genre, the idea of the monstrous landscape emerges from, and builds upon, an established tradition in Australian cinema in which landscape functions not just as a setting for action, but also as a character in its own right. Rather than a picturesque wilderness or countryside, or a serene natural world untainted by civilisation – representations common in landscape cinema celebrating positive aspects of the Australian ‘outback’ – the monstrous landscape is a dangerous, malevolent and threatening force. Drawing upon themes also common in Australian Gothic narratives such as entrapment in a hostile environment, isolation and fear of the unknown (Turcotte, 1988, see also Jonathan Rayner’s essay in this volume), the monstrous landscape acts according to its own logic indecipherable to non-Indigenous Australians and is represented in terms of its alien-ness and inhuman horror.

"Has Gothic cake and eats it too : dreaming of Amelia" by Jaclyn Moriarty

Dreaming of Amelia (2009) recounts a small group of HSC students’ final year of high school. Told from multiple perspectives, the novel focuses on shifting senses of self, maturity, and agency as the protagonists move from adolescence to adulthood. The central conflict of the novel results from two ‘bad kids from the bad crowd at bad Brookfield High’ (blurb) transferring to wealthy private school, Ashbury; Amelia and Riley are scholarship students who do not fit with Ashbury’s profile of 'normal student' as it is understood by the school’s students or staff, and their presence in the school community forces many people to reassess their understanding of individual value (or, at least, that’s what the novel claims happens). In the shifting of perceptions, allegiances, and relationships, each of the main characters achieves a stronger sense of their identity, and Dreaming of Amelia is thus firmly located within the tradition of Young Adult (YA) literature, with all its stereotypes of adolescence.

Writing Indigenous vampires: Aboriginal gothic or Aboriginal fantastic?

The usual postmodern suspicions about diligently deciphering authorial intent or stridently seeking fixed meaning/s and/or binary distinctions in an artistic work aside, this self-indulgent essay pushes the boundaries regarding normative academic research, for it focusses on my own (minimally celebrated) published creative writing’s status as a literary innovation. Dedicated to illuminating some of the less common denominators at play in Australian horror, my paper recalls the creative writing process involved when I set upon the (arrogant?) goal of creating a new genre of creative writing: that of the ‘Aboriginal Fantastic’. I compare my work to the literary output of a small but significant group (2.5% of the population), of which I am a member: Aboriginal Australians. I narrow my focus even further by examining that creative writing known as Aboriginal horror. And I reduce the sample size of my study to an exceptionally small number by restricting my view to one type of Aboriginal horror literature only: the Aboriginal vampire novel, a genre to which I have contributed professionally with the 2011 paperback and 2012 e-book publication of That Blackfella Bloodsucka Dance! However, as this paper hopefully demonstrates, and despite what may be interpreted by some cynical commentators as the faux sincerity of my taxonomic fervour, Aboriginal horror is a genre noteworthy for its instability and worthy of further academic interrogation. (first paragraph)