Transnational Fantômas: The Influence of Feuillade’s Series on International Cinema during the 1910s

The influence of Fantômas novels and films on global popular culture is widely acknowledged. From the 1915 Spanish musical "Cine-fantomas" to the 1960s Italian comic book series "Diabolik," "Kriminal" and "Satanik," from Turkish B-movies such as "Fantoma Istanbulda Bulusalim" (dir. Natuk Baytan, 1967) to Julio Cortazar’s anti-imperialist pamphlet "Fantômas contra los vampiros multinacionales" (1975), Pierre Souvestre and Marcel Allain’s original literary series have engendered uncountable translations, adaptations, imitations and plagiarisms that have spread the character’s fame worldwide since its first appearance in 1911.
By focusing on the influence of Louis Feuillade’s film adaptations during the first decade of Fantômas’ long history as a transnational and transmedia icon, this paper aims to contribute to the growing interdisciplinary field that deals with the history of the supranational cultural sphere created by modern media culture. As a sort of archaeology of contemporary cultural globalization, this form of study intends to enrich previous historical surveys that had only taken into consideration specific national contexts. Moreover, it might also rebalance certain “colonizing” accounts that overemphasize the role of the cultural superpowers such as France, the UK or the US, often forgetting the appropriation of the products of international popular culture to be found in other countries. Therefore, this paper examines the transnational circulation of Fantômas films and, in particular, the creative processes engendered outside of France their origin country. As a controversial character and a central player in the relationship between cinema and literature in the crucial years when the feature and serial film boosted and legitimized the film industry, Fantômas represents an exemplary case study to discuss the cross-cultural and cross-media dynamics engendered by popular fiction.

Transgressing Contemporary Boundaries:The Narrator as True Custodian of Cultural Knowledge in Ulster Society

Historically in Gaelic culture, the bard was greatly valued and admired as an important and integral part of society. Travelled, schooled and specifically trained in their art, the bard helped ensure identity and reassurance for Gaelic families by grounding them both temporarily and spatially into their landscape. Entrusted with the duty and responsibility of recording place and event, the bards worked without writing and by transgressing man-made boundaries, travelled throughout the land weaving their histories into the very fabric of society.

Now no longer with us, we find ourselves without the distinguished chronicler to undertake this duty. Yet the responsibility of the Gaelic bard is one still shared by all artists today; to facilitate memory and identity, whether good or bad. Many Ulster writers, by happenstance and geography have found themselves located in a place of painful histories. An immediate difficulty for those local writers becomes manifest by being intrinsically implicated into those histories – whilst having first-hand knowledge and comprehension beyond that of the outsider, the local writer is automatically damned by association and relationship, thereby tarnishing their voice in comparison to the perceived impartiality of others.
Some writers however have successfully sought ways to escape this limitation and have worked in ways that can transgress the restrictions of prejudgement. John Hewitt, by purposely becoming a self-imposed tourist was able to distance himself to write impartially about the past, recognising that ’the place without its ghosts is a barren place.’1 In ‘The Colony’,2 tradition, peoples and mapping of the land are all narrated by Hewitt in a similar way to the Gaelic bardic topographic poems of Sean O'Dubhagain and Giolla Na Naomh O'Huidhrin3 in compiling a rich cultural atlas.

Similarly the Belfast poet and novelist Ciaran Carson also writes and records the city from an intermediary position; that of translator. Mediating between reader and aisling,4 Carson himself takes the reader on a journey into name, meaning, time and place, focusing primarily on the city of Belfast, familiar in name but impenetrable in depth to most.

Furthermore, this once-forgotten tradition to chronicle is now being continued by the new breed of Irish crime writers where the likes of Brian McGilloway, Stuart Neville and Adrian McKinty can, by way of the crime novel, accurately record contemporary society. Thus, ghost estates, listed buildings, archaeological digs, street and city have all provided setting and subject matter for recent novels. Moreover by choosing the ‘outsider from within’ as their chief protagonist, whether detective or criminal, each author is able to transgress the boundaries of prejudice and preconception that hinder genuine understanding and knowledge.

Looking in turn at the Gaelic bard, the twentieth century Ulster poet and the new breed of Irish crime writer, the authors will outline the real value of the narrator, by being able to act as cultural transgressor beyond the seeming and alleged as the true chronicler in society, and then with specific reference to city and countryside in Ireland, as a valuable custodian of knowledge in architecture and place.

Keywords
Architecture, Crime Fiction, Cultural Atlas, Place, Poetry.

1 From ‘The Bloody Brae’, a one act play written by John Hewitt in the 1930’s.
2 Hewitt, J. (1968) published in Collected Poems 1932-67. London:McGibbon & Kee.
3 Lengthy and detailed medieval Gaelic poems composed in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries first edited by John O'Donovan in 1862 for the Irish Archaeological and Celtic Society in Dublin.
4 The aisling is the Irish song or poem genre when the poet is visited by their muse in a daydream or dream-vision state.

Les Français de la Série Noire (2)

This chapter in an edited volume to be published in autumn 2015 (Paris, Gallimard), looks at the global output of French authors, representing a corpus of 600 novels, in an iconic and genre defining series of 2500 Crime Fiction books published since 1945 by Les Editions Gallimard. It contrasts the view usually held of a predominance of American Authors and shows, in the period considered, the role of French authors in defining the series identity, their decisive contribution to its success, and how they not only distance themselves from an American model, but partially reinvent it.

Cockney, pseudo-slang et argot de série noire : San-Antonio et le moment Peter Cheyney du roman noir français

This article examines how in post-war France slang became a byword for the noir genre. It considers the mechanisms, models, networks and translators' practices which set the tone for the "Série Noire”, whose influence, both written and on the screen, had, within a decade, become, a "mythology" studied by Roland Barthes. It argues that this use of slang is redolent of the inauthenticity which characterises this stage in the reception of the Noir genre in France. It is certain that this artificial French slang is far from devoid of charm, or even mystery. But it tends to depreciate and deform the translated works and seems to be the hallmark of an era that might have defined and acclimatised Noir fiction in France, yet remains one which has not fully understood the gravity of its purpose. While such translations seem outdated nowadays (if not quite incomprehensible ), original works written at the time in French by writers inspired by the model of " pseudo- slang" and the fashionability of American popular culture have benefited from them. In this very inauthenticity, derivative novels have found a licence for invention and freedom, with authors such as Cocteau hailing it as a revival of the French written language. We see here how the adventures of Commissaire San Antonio, by Frédéric Dard constitute the best examples of this new creativity in French and draw upon a template set for the reception of American literature

Navigating the Borderlands: Brian McGilloway as Contemporary Cartographer of the Liminal in the Ulster Landscape

Set in the borderlands between Letterkenny and Derry-Londonderry, a landscape scarred by geological fold, river and cartographer’s pen, the Ulster crime novelist Brian McGilloway chronicles the hopes and fears of a contemporary society unable to escape a complicated history, redolent and entwined with the voices of its ‘ghosts of its past.’ Through his choice of chief protagonist, An Garda Síochána officer Benedict Devlin, McGilloway turns detective to critically investigate the both the seemingly straightforward and the unseen dwelling in the rural Ulster landscape. Following in the footsteps of Nordic and Tartan Noir in making commentary on current societ,y McGilloway recognises the importance of the past in trying to reach an understanding of the present. His critique however goes beyond criminal behaviour motivated primarily by politics or religion, allowing a deeper and more meaningful diagnosis of the ‘state of the nation’. Place, name and event become especially important in contextualising the liminality of McGilloway’s real rural border settings. In doing so, McGilloway continues in the rich tradition of Ulster poet such as Heaney, MacNiece, Muldoon and Hewitt in trying to rationalise the man-made amidst the elemental in the land of both the ‘Planter & The Gael.’ History, language, tradition and the sacral are all instruments of investigation in helping McGilloway present a revealing pathology and atlas of our times to his readers. Turning literary investigator, the author contends that there is much to learn from this physiography, not just for the borderlands region, but for the wider countryside and society beyond. Keywords Cultural Atlas, Crime Fiction, Place, Poetry, Rural.

Policing the Globe: State Sovereignty and the International in the Post-9/11 Crime Novel

Two recent studies of 9/11 literature are dismissive of the contributions that crime and espionage novels have made to ongoing efforts to map the significance of 9/11 and its aftermath. My essay contests the assumption that only literary fiction – which pays sufficient attention to trauma – can “bear witness” to the events of 9/11 and argues that such fiction is, in fact, singularly ill-equipped to illuminate the complex geo-political circumstances that 9/11 entrenched and transformed. By contrast, genre novels by John Le Carré and Don Winslow have responded in imaginative and critical ways to post-9/11 and avowedly trans-national securitization initiatives and hence to efforts to trouble traditional accounts of state sovereignty.