For the record

Discusses her film, For the Record, the making of which was funded by the Arts and Humanities Research Council. The research material used in the making of FOR THE RECORD consists of official records, private diaries, personal testimony, historical expert interviews and archive footage - all related to the Internment period 1956-1960 in Northern Ireland. Through the use of clips from the film and footage that did not make it into the final cut, this talk examines how selected material is used and to what purpose. FOR THE RECORD is a film about a daughter documenting a period in her father's life and centres on PJ McClean's prison diary, secretly written on the inside of envelopes during the first 30 days in his cell. This brings the viewer into the intimate space of personal testimony. This intimacy is also reflected in the interviews between father and daughter. Throughout the film the diaries are illustrated by experimental Super8 and 16mm footage shot by the filmmaker, over a period of 10 years, of home life. The film unravels the complex story of internment; the why, the how and the ‘for what’? Official records obtained from the Public Records Office Northern Ireland (which have been closed to the public for the past fifty years) combine with archive footage of the then Northern Irish Prime Minister, Basil Brookeborough, to give a wider political perspective to this personal testament. FOR THE RECORD deals with memory, memorabilia and the question of testimony in a complex political landscape. [From the Author]

Rats, floods and flowers: London's Gothicized nature

AUTHOR's OVERVIEW This chapter attempts a definition of London eco-gothic, beginning with an ecocritical reading of the ubiquitous London rat. Following Dracula, popular London gothic has been overrun, from the blunt horror-schlock of James Herbert’s 1970s Rats series to China Miéville’s King Rat. Maud Ellman’s elegant discussion of the modernist rat as a protean figure associated with a ‘panoply of fears and fetishes’, underlines how the rat has always featured in anti-urban discourse: as part of racist representations of immigration; as an expression of fear of disease and poverty; or through a quasi-supernatural anxiety about their indestructible and illimitable nature which makes them a staple feature of post-apocalyptic landscapes. Even so, the London rat is a rather more mundane manifestation of urban eco-gothic than the ‘city wilderness’ metaphors common to representations of New York or Los Angles as identified by eco-critic Andrew White. London’s gothic noses its way out through cracks in the pavements, grows from seeds in suburban gardens or accumulates through the steady drip of rainwater. However, I will suggest, in texts such as Maggie Gee’s The Flood and P. D. James’ Children of Men, London eco-gothic becomes less local and familiar as it responds to global environmental crisis with more dramatic tales of minatorial nature.