Constructing the Architext : Georges Perec's life a user's manual

Mitchell critiques Georges Perec's Life a User's Manual, which articulates compellingly the confluence of literature and architecture studies that emerged in the late twentieth century. He argues the Perec's novel diverges from this tradition, for, rather than being a search for origins and true expression, Life a User's Manual denies the very possibility of originality. He adds that Perec's architext is de-constructive and ironic.

Everything you do : young adult fiction and surveillance in an age of security

Espionage, surveillance and clandestine operations by secret agencies and governments were something of an East–West obsession in the second half of the twentieth century, a fact reflected in literature and film. In the twenty-first century, concerns of the Cold War and the threat of Communism have been rearticulated in the wake of 9/11. Under the rubric of ‘terror’ attacks, the discourses of security and surveillance are now framed within an increasingly global context. As this article illustrates, surveillance fiction written for young people engages with the cultural and political tropes that reflect a new social order that is different from the Cold War era, with its emphasis on spies, counter espionage, brainwashing and psychological warfare. While these tropes are still evident in much recent literature, advances in technology have transformed the means of tracking, profiling and accumulating data on individuals’ daily activities. Little Brother, The Hunger Games and Article 5 reflect the complex relationship between the real and the imaginary in the world of surveillance and, as this paper discusses, raise moral and ethical issues that are important questions for young people in our age of security.

Insurgency

Poem

Talk Underwater

Short story

Lying in all honesty : capturing truth in women’s confessional memoir

This paper explores the slippery nature of illness and diagnosis in Lauren Slater’s memoir, Lying: a Metaphorical Memoir (2000). Speaking from the shadowy intersection of childhood and adolescence, Slater’s narrator, Lauren, uses the metaphor of epilepsy to describe her own predilection for exaggeration. In exploiting the fallibility of the first-person narrator, Slater insists on the legitimacy of metaphor in accounts of childhood illness that are more concerned with narrative truth than historical accuracy. The result of this playfulness and general misrule is that Slater writes herself into a double bind: on one side, she is the child narrator who inadvertently misrepresents events and misdirects readers, and on the other side, she is the untrustworthy author who employs metaphor as a licence to lie.

Pulping affirmation : Danny Wallace’s Yes Man!

If Danny Wallace is a yes man, I am most certainly a no woman. No, I will not agree to anything and everything in an attempt to make my life “more interesting”. No, I do not believe that on “one fateful day a mystery man on a late night bus” will change my life forever. I hate the bus. In fact, I don’t even catch public transport. Wallace’s recent film tie-in Yes Man reeks of such cheesy optimism. The book’s premise is simple and indeed, even alluring at first. When a stranger on the bus tells Danny to “say yes more” (9), his life takes a dramatic turn on the roundabout of possibility. Sad, single, and staying inside a lot, Danny signs himself up for a year of mishap and misadventure, accepting every request, suggestion and invitation offered to him by both friends and strangers.

Getting the right words right

Oscar Wilde once complained that having spent an entire morning putting a comma into one of his poems, he spent the afternoon removing it. Peter Selgin calls this revisionitis: the inability of a writer to part with their work, the compulsion to go on fiddling and picking until there is nothing left to fret about. There can be real danger, Selgin warns, in fussing with things. The question then of how much to revise or how little to rewrite is one without certain answer and writers themselves hold differing views...

Irregular readers : Arthur Conan Doyle’s “six dirty scoundrels”, boyhood and literacy in contemporary Sherlockian children’s literature

Young adult (YA) literature is a socialising genre that encourages young readers to take up particular ways of relating to historical or cultural materials. The first decade of the twenty-first century witnessed a boom in Sherlockian YA fiction using the Conan Doyle canon as a context and vocabulary for stories focused on the Baker Street Irregulars as figures of identification. This paper reads YA fiction’s deployment of Conan Doyle’s fictional universe as a strategy for negotiating anxieties of adolescent masculinity, particularly in relation to literacy and social agency.

"Tess the Obscure"

A review of Robert Hillman's novel Joyful (Text Publishing, 2014).

The hard facts : a brilliant memoir about ancestral silence

A review of A History of Silence by Lloyd Jones (Text Publishing, 2013).

Author in waiting : self-portrait of Peter Goldsworthy as a boy

Review of His Stupid Boyhood by Peter Goldsworthy (Hamish Hamilton, 2013).

A great charmer : The peripatetic and adventurous Patrick Leigh Fermor

Review of Patrick Leigh Fermor : An Adventure by Artemis Cooper (John Murray, 2012).

Narratives of possession : reading for saga authorship

The aim of this thesis is to show how character analysis can be used to approach conceptions of saga authorship in medieval Iceland. The idea of possession is a metaphor that is adopted early in the thesis, and is used to describe Icelandic sagas as works in which traditional material is subtly interpreted by medieval authors. For example, we can say that if authors claim greater possession of the sagas, they interpret, and not merely record, the sagas' historical information. On the other hand, tradition holds onto its possession of the narrative whenever it is not possible for an author to develop his own creative and historical interests. The metaphor of possession also underpins the character analysis in the thesis, which is based on the idea that saga authors used characters as a vehicle by which to possess saga narratives and so develop their own historical interests. The idea of possession signals the kinds of problems of authorship study which are addressed here, in particular, the question of the authors' sense of saga writing as an act either of preservation or of creation. While, in that sense, the thesis represents an additional voice in a long-standing debate about the saga writers' relation to their source materials, I argue against a clear-cut distinction between creative and non-creative authors, and focus instead on the wide variation in authorial control over saga materials. This variation suggests that saga authorship is a multi-functional activity, or one which co-exists with tradition. Further, by emphasising characterisation as a method, I am adding to the weight of scholarship that seeks to understand the sagas in terms of their literary effects. The Introduction and chapter one lay out the theoretical scope of this thesis. My aim in these first two sections is to inform the reader of the type of critical questions that arise when authorship is approached in relation to characterisation, and to suggest an interpretive framework with which to approach these questions. In the Introduction this aim manifests as a brief discussion of the application of the term "authorship" to the medieval Icelandic corpus, a definition of the scope of this study, and an introduction to the connections, made throughout this thesis, between saga authors, the sagas' narrative style, and the style of characterisation in the sagas. Chapter one is a far more detailed discussion of our ability to make these connections. In particular, the chapter develops the definition of the analytical term "secondary authorship" that I introduce in order to delineate the type of characterisation that is of most interest in this thesis. "Secondary authorship" is a literary term that aims to sharpen our approach to saga authors' relationship to their characters by focusing on characters who make representations about the events of the saga. The term refers to any instance in which characters behave in a manner that resembles the creativity, interpretation, and understanding associated with authorship more generally. Character analysis cannot, however, be divorced from socio-historical approaches to the saga corpus. Most importantly, the sagas themselves are socio-historical representations that claim some degree of truth value. This claim that the sagas make by implication about their historicity is the starting point of a discussion of authorship in medieval Iceland. Therefore, at the beginning of chapter one I discuss some of the approaches to the social context of saga writing. This discussion serves as an introduction to both the culture of saga writing in medieval Iceland and to the nature of the sagas' historical perspective, and reflects my sense that literary interpretations of the sagas cannot be isolated from the historical discourses that frame them. The chapter also discusses possession, which, as I note above, is used alongside the concept of secondary authorship to describe the saga authors' relationship with the stories and characters of the past. At the close of chapter one, I offer a preliminary list the various functions of saga authorship, and give some examples of secondary authorship. From this point I am able to tie my argument about secondary authorship to specific examples from the sagas. Chapter two examines the effect of family obligations and domestic points of view in the depiction of characters' choices and conception of themselves. The examples that are given in that chapter - from Gisla saga Súrssonar and Íslendinga saga - are the first of a number of textual analyses that demonstrate the application of the concepts of secondary authorship and possession of saga narratives. The relationship between narratives about national and domestic matters shows how authorial creativity in the area of kinship obligation provides the basis for the saga's development of historical themes. Thus, the two major case studies given in chapter two tie authorial engagement with characters to the most influential social institution in early and medieval Iceland, the family. The remaining chapters represent similar attempts to relate authorial possession of saga characters to central socio-historical themes in the sagas, such as the settlement process in early Iceland and its influence on the development of regional political life (chapter three). Likewise, the strong authorial interest in an Icelander's journey to Norway in Heimskringla is presented as evidence of the author's use of a saga character to express an Icelandic interpretation of Norwegian history and to promote a sense that Iceland shared the ownership of regal history with Norway (chapter four). In that authorial engagement with the Icelander abroad, we witness saga characterisation being used as a basis for historical interpretation and the means by which foreign traditions and influence, not least the narratives of royal lives and of the Christianisation, are claimed as part of medieval Icelanders' self-conception. While saga authors observe the conventions of saga narration, characters are often subtly positioned as the authors' interpretive mirrors, especially clear than when they act as secondary authors. Nowhere is this more apparent than in Brennu- Njáls saga, which contains many characters who voice the author's claim to interpret the past. Even Hrútr Herjólfsson, through his remarkable perception of events and his conspicuous comments about them, acts as a secondary author by enabling the author to emphasise the importance of the disposition of characters. In Laxdœla saga and Þorgils saga ok Hafliða, authorial interest in characters' perception is matched by the thematising of learning, from the inception of knowledge as prophecy or advice to complete understanding by saga characters (chapter six). In Þorgils saga skarða, a character's inner development from an excessively ambitious and politically ruthless youth to a Christian leader killed by his kinsman allows the author to shape a political life into a lesson about leadership and the community's ability to moderate and contain the behaviour of extraordinary individuals. The portrayal draws on methods of characterisation that we can identify in Grettis saga Ásmundarson, Fóstbrœðra saga, and Orkneyinga saga. A comparison of the characterisation of figures with intense political or military ambitions suggests that saga authors were interested in the community's ability to balance their strength and ability with a degree of social moderation. The discussion of these sagas shows that character study can be used to analyse how the saga authors added their own voice to the voices passed down to medieval Icelanders in traditional narratives. Authorial engagement with characters allowed inherited traditions about early Norway and Iceland and records of thirteenth century events to be transformed into sophisticated historical works with highly creative elements. Through secondary authorship, saga authors took joint-possession of narratives and contested the power of tradition in setting the interpretive framework of a saga.

Comparison of accelerometer cut points for predicting activity intensity in youth

The absence of comparative validity studies has prevented researchers from reaching consensus regarding the application of intensity-related accelerometer cut points for children and adolescents. PURPOSE This study aimed to evaluate the classification accuracy of five sets of independently developed ActiGraph cut points using energy expenditure, measured by indirect calorimetry, as a criterion reference standard. METHODS A total of 206 participants between the ages of 5 and 15 yr completed 12 standardized activity trials. Trials consisted of sedentary activities (lying down, writing, computer game), lifestyle activities (sweeping, laundry, throw and catch, aerobics, basketball), and ambulatory activities (comfortable walk, brisk walk, brisk treadmill walk, running). During each trial, participants wore an ActiGraph GT1M, and VO 2 was measured breath-by-breath using the Oxycon Mobile portable metabolic system. Physical activity intensity was estimated using five independently developed cut points: Freedson/Trost (FT), Puyau (PU), Treuth (TR), Mattocks (MT), and Evenson (EV). Classification accuracy was evaluated via weighted κ statistics and area under the receiver operating characteristic curve (ROC-AUC). RESULTS Across all four intensity levels, the EV (κ = 0.68) and FT (κ = 0.66) cut points exhibited significantly better agreement than TR (κ = 0.62), MT (κ = 0.54), and PU (κ = 0.36). The EV and FT cut points exhibited significantly better classification accuracy for moderate-to vigorous-intensity physical activity (ROC-AUC = 0.90) than TR, PU, or MT cut points (ROC-AUC = 0.77-0.85). Only the EV cut points provided acceptable classification accuracy for all four levels of physical activity intensity and performed well among children of all ages. The widely applied sedentary cut point of 100 counts per minute exhibited excellent classification accuracy (ROC-AUC = 0.90). CONCLUSIONS On the basis of these findings, we recommend that researchers use the EV ActiGraph cut points to estimate time spent in sedentary, light-, moderate-, and vigorous-intensity activity in children and adolescents. Copyright © 2011 by the American College of Sports Medicine.

Requiem for a beast : a case study in controversy

In 2008, Matt Ottley’s Requiem for a Beast: A Work for Image, Word and Music was awarded the Book of the Year: Picture Book by the Children’s Book Council of Australia (CBCA). Ottley’s book is challenging in its form and content: it uses words, illustrations, and music to tell a sustained, multi-layered narrative about one young man’s attempts to reconcile his family’s and his nation’s shameful history of violence against Aboriginal Australians, while also coming to terms with his own attempts to commit suicide. Given the ways in which the CBCA’s annual book awards are used by teachers, librarians, and parents to select the “best” books for young readers, it is unsurprising that the prizing of Requiem for a Beast stirred up controversy. Responses to the book proliferated across professional and popular outlets—it even received coverage on an Australian tabloid television program—and initiated a variety of conversations about what constitutes appropriate reading for young people. Perhaps more significantly, the controversy over Requiem winning picture book of the year forced the CBCA, teacher librarians, and caregivers to examine (and, often, defend) their roles and responsibilities in the circulation and promotion of children’s literature. This paper reads the Requiem controversies as a case study for understanding the complementary and contradictory roles of institutions and individuals in the ethical circulation of children’s literature in contemporary Australia and beyond.