38 resultados para Mythology, Iberian.
Resumo:
‘O daughter … forget your people and your father’s house’: Early Modern Women Writers and the Spanish ImaginaryAnne Holloway and Ramona WrayHolloway and Wray consider the perspectives offered by two very different seventeenth-century women (Mary Bonaventure Browne, or Mother Browne (b.1615- and Lady Ann Fanshawe (b.1625) both of whom exchanged Ireland for Spain, and both of whom record journeys both ‘real’ and imagined in their writings. Browne’s deployment of hagiographical tropes in her History of the Poor Clares may reveal the potential impact of Iberian conventual culture; her allusions to the markers of sanctity insistent on the immutability of the body, whilst accepting and anticipating spectral presence in the form of bilocation. Fanshawe’s Memoirs are considered alongside the material legacy of her ‘Booke of Receipts of Physickes, Salues, Waters, Cordialls, Preserues and Cookery.’ Her impressions both in transit and within the domus are similarly marked by receptivity and sensitivity to the host culture. Amidst a backdrop of religious persecution and political uncertainty, in both cases Spain emerges as a potentially enabling context for creativity and self-expression.Keywords: Memoir; Franciscan; Poor Clares; Fanshawe; Mary Bonaventure Browne; hagiography; life-writing; autobiography, women writers
Resumo:
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 While such translations seem outdated nowadays (if not quite incomprehensible ), original works written at the time in French by writers inspired by the model of " pseudo- slang" and the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
Resumo:
This chapter examines the ramifications of continental travel and associated epistolary communication for English poets of the period. It argues that recourse to neo-Latin, the universal language of diplomacy, served not only to establish a sense of shared space—linguistic, cultural, generic—between England and the continent, but also to signal self-conscious differences (climatic, geographical, historical, political) between England and her continental peers. Through an investigation of a range of ‘performances’ on stages that were ‘academic’, poetic, autobiographical, and epistolographic, it assesses the central role of neo-Latin as a language that underwent a series of textual itineraries. These ‘itineraries’ manifest themselves in a number of ways. Neo-Latin as a shared linguistic medium can facilitate, and quite uniquely so, intertextual engagement with the classics, but now ancient Rome, its language, its mythology, its hierarchy of genres, are viewed through a seventeenth-century lens and appropriated by poets in both England and Italy to describe contemporary events, whether personal, or political. Close examination of the neo-Latin poetry of Milton and Marvell reveals, it is argued, a self-fashioning coloured by such textual itineraries and interchanges. The absorption and replication of continental literary and linguistic methodologies (the academic debate; the etymological play of Marinism; the hybridity of neo-Latin and Italian voices) reveal in short a linguistic and textual reciprocity that gave birth to something very new.
Resumo:
This article documents the public availability of (i) microbiomes in diet and gut of larvae from the dipteran Dilophus febrilis using massive parallel sequencing, (ii) SNP and SSR discovery and characterization in the transcriptome of the Atlantic mackerel (Scomber scombrus, L) and (iii) assembled transcriptome for an endangered, endemic Iberian cyprinid fish (Squalius pyrenaicus).
Resumo:
At Easter 1916, Dublin city centre was one of a series of sites throughout Ireland where a rebellion was staged against British rule. It was a strategic failure, swiftly crushed by superior British forces. The event, however, subsequently took a central role in the mythology of modern Ireland.
The first visual representations were of the conflict’s aftermath: photographic journeys through landscapes of ruin. From the distance of the camera, we see none of the pockmarks of shell bursts, nor the etchings of machine guns. Instead, traces of life in the city seem to have been swept aside by an unseen hand: the passing of millennia or a violent action of nature. Architecture alone has witnessed and recorded its presence. Amongst the fragments, the shell of the General Post Office (G.P.O.) in Sackville Street is one of the few buildings still wholly recognizable. The remnants of its classical form, portico and pediment, columns and entablature seem to transcend its prosaic modern functions and allude to something more ancient. The bewilderment of city’s inhabitants is also recorded. Dubliners have become inquisitive tourists in streets which hitherto were the locus of everyday life. They wander around aimlessly in a landscape as alien and picturesque as Pompeii. This shift in perception was captured by the Irish poet W.B. Yeats who hinted that Dublin, purged of modern commercialism had transcended its petty inadequacies to revive a slumbering heroic past.
‘I have met them at the close of day
Coming with vivid faces
From counter or desk among grey
Eighteenth-century houses [.]’
All is changed, changed utterly:
A terrible beauty is born.’
His comments were prescient. Initially unpopular, the republican leaders, executed by the British, slowly became recast as heroic martyrs. Similarly, the spaces where their heroism was forged became venerated. The G.P.O. and Sackville Street, however, already had a republican history. It was originally conceived in the eighteenth century as part of a series of magnificent urban spaces to provide an arena of spectacle and self-celebration for the colonial Anglo-Irish and their vision of a Protestant republic. O’Connell/Sackville Street became the temporal, geographical and mythical hinge upon which two different versions of Irish republicanism waxed and waned. Its recasting after independence as a space of Catholic Nationalism bore testimony to its consistency in providing a backdrop for the production of ritual and myth. In the 1920s and 30s, as the nascent country, beset with economic stagnation and political tensions, turned to spectacle as a salve for it social problems, O’Connell Street and the G.P.O. provided its most sacred sites. Within the introduction of new myths, however, individual as well as national identities were created and consolidated. The emerging identity of modern Ireland became inextricably linked with that of one ambitious politician. His uses of the G.P.O. in particular revealed a perceptive understanding of the political uses of classical architecture and urban space.