Turning around the poorest neighbourhoods: learning the lessons from twenty years of neighbourhood-based regeneration strategies in England

In the past two decades governments in Britain have launched a series of initiatives designed to reduce the disparities between areas of affluence and deprivation. These initiatives were funded by central government and were delivered through a series of partnership boards operating at the neighbourhood level in areas with high levels of deprivation. Drawing on similar approaches in the US War on Poverty, the engagement of residents in the planning and delivery of projects was a major priority. This chapter draws on the national evaluations of three of these programmes in England: the Single Regeneration Budget, the New Deal for Communities and the Neighbourhood Management Pathfinders. The chapter begins by identifying the common characteristics of these programmes, known as area-based initiatives because they targeted areas of concentrated deprivation with a population of about 10,000 people each. It then goes on to discuss the three national programmes and summarises the main findings in relation to how far key indicators changed for the better. The final section sets out the ways in which policy objectives changed in 2010 after the election of a coalition government. This produced a shift to what was called the ‘Big Society’ where the rhetoric favoured a transfer of power away from central government towards the local, neighbourhood, level. This approach favoured self-help and a call to volunteering rather than channelling resources to the areas in greatest need. The chapter closes by reviewing the relatively modest achievements of this centralist, big-state approach to distressed neighbourhoods of 1990–2010.

Repressive desublimation and the great refusal in Bret Easton Ellis's fiction

In 1968, Herbert Marcuse believed that a Great Refusal was possible, one that would deny the exploitative power of corporate capitalism. Marcuse's vision was never realised. This essay argues that society today is in an advanced state of that which the Frankfurt School termed repressive desublimation and questions whether a liberationary praxis is still possible. It claims that Bret Easton Ellis's fiction choreographs an internalising of the forms of critique that marked 1968 and about which Marcuse writes. It is Ellis's act of double voicing that allows him to develop a duplicitous recalcitrant voice within the state of assimilation and it is double voicing which emerges as the key technique in Ellis's work that effects an ongoing critique in commodity society. Looking at Slavoj iek's recent revisionism of the notion of repressive desublimation, which connects Marxism and psychoanalysis, the essay considers how Ellis's novels, American Psycho, Glamorama and Lunar Park, function to address and reconfigure the relationship between the status of the Marxist fetishised object and the psychoanalytic phobic object in the present-day era of late capitalism. This essay seeks to illuminate how Ellis's fiction, through an involution of Marcuse's political theories, enacts a contemporary refusal from within the state of reification.

“My people seem to be falling to bits”: impotence, memory, and the co-possibility of body and mind in Samuel Beckett’s works

The present thesis examines the representation of the impotent body and mind in a selection of Samuel Beckett’s dramatic and prose works. Aiming to show that the body-mind relation is represented as one of co-implication and co-constitution, this thesis also takes the representation of memory in Beckett’s work as a key site for examining this relation. The thesis seeks to address the centrality of the body and embodied subjectivity in the experience of memory and indeed in signification and experience more generally. In these terms, Chapter 1 analyzes the representation of the figure of the couple in Beckett’s drama of the 1950s – as a metaphor of the body-mind relation – and, in light of Jacques Derrida’s theory of the supplement and Bernard Stiegler’s theory of technics, it discusses how the relationship between physical body and mind is defined by an essential supplementarity that is revealed even (or especially) in their apparent separation. Furthermore, the impotence that marks both elements in Beckett’s writings, when it is seen to lay bare this intrication, can be viewed, in important respects, as enabling rather than merely privative. Chapter 2 discusses the somatic structure of memory as represented in four of Beckett’s later dramatic works composed in the 1970s and 1980s. Similarly to Chapter 1, the second chapter focuses on the more “extreme” representation of bodily impotence in Beckett and demonstrates that rather than a merely “mental” recollection, memory in the work of Beckett is presented as necessarily experienced through, and shaped by, the body itself. In this light, then, it is shown that despite the impotence that marks the body in Beckett’s work of the 1970s and 1980s, the body is a necessary site of memory and retains or discovers a kind of activity in this impotence. Finally, Chapter 3 shifts its attention to Beckett’s prose works in order to explore how such works, reliant on language rather than the physical performance of actors onstage, sustain questions of embodied subjectivity at their heart. Specifically, the chapter argues that, on closer inspection, Beckett’s “literature of the unword” is not an abstention from meaning and its materialization, but one that paradoxically foregrounds that “something” which remains an essential part of it, that is, an embodied subjectivity.

‘The voice speaking, desired, awaited’: Jack Lindsay’s 1649, Textual Form and Communist Historiography

This article examines the 1938 historical novel 1649: A Novel of a Year by the Anglo-Australian communist polymath Jack Lindsay in the context of the politics of the Popular Front, and identifies the aesthetic and historiographic debates questions that inform Lindsay’s inventive rendition of the historical novel. The novel may be considered in light of what Lindsay later called his desire ‘to use the novel to revive revolutionary traditions’, as well as his ‘struggle to achieve an understanding of the Novel while writing novels’. Lindsay’s novel figures a reality becoming prosaic: it reproduces contemporary textual sources – tracts, pamphlets, newspapers – as part of its meditation on a nascent print culture whose products circulate in processes that mirror the increasingly conspicuous flow of commodities. In this sense, the novel offers a marxist reflection on its own conditions of possibility in emergent bourgeois culture, as well as intervening in the vexed question of the Civil War as a ‘bourgeois revolution’. The novel however seeks to capture a dialectical method of representing the revolution that acknowledges defeat while rearticulating the utopian content of the defeated radicals, a practice integral to Lindsay’s vision of popular history as a transhistorical dialogue. That utopian content is transmitted through two forms: popular song, which acts to supplement political writing; and the heroic portrayal of the Leveller John Lilburne on trial, whose conduct exemplifies praxis conceived as a unity of word, thought and action.