Television satire, decmocracy and the decay of public language: John Clarke's verbal caricature

This paper examines the contributions of John Clarke to the field of political satire through his interviews with straight-man Bryan Dawe on ABC TV’s The 7.30 Report. Clarke’s work represents one of the last vestiges of what was once a vigorous satiric tradition in TV comedy, specifically the practice of political caricature. There was The Mavis Bramston Show in the 1960s and The Naked Vicar Show in the 1970s, while The Gillies Report in the 1980s was probably the best example of sustained political caricature in television comedy. Even in later sketch-based shows such as Fast Forward and The Late Show in the early 1990s, political caricature was a significant component of the material, whereas it seems to have all but disappeared from current television comedy. The paper investigates the disappearance of this type of comedy from Australian television screens and also discusses why the longevity, consistency, not to mention accuracy, of Clarke’s satire is so important in the current political climate. Clarke’s political caricature is almost entirely language-based, expertly parodying the spin-doctored rhetoric of our elected representatives and business leaders. This leads to a secondary focus of the paper, which is a discussion of Clarke’s unique form of satire in the context of what an historian (and former satirist) identifies as ‘the decay of public language’.

Androiden und (Anti)feminismus in The Stepford Wives

Since the early days of cinema the creation of artificial life with its various implications has been a popular topic on screen. Amongst the large number of films that deal with the theme of androids Bryan Forbes’ "The Stepford Wives" (1975) is noticeable for its focus on questions of gender and the relationship between the sexes. The film is set in a contemporary small suburban town where frustrated husbands have found a special way of dealing with their emancipated wives by replacing them with docile life-like robots. Mixing elements of the thriller and horror genres with farce and comedy "The Stepford Wives" was the first American mainstream film to deal explicitly with Women’s Lib. Unlike Ira Levin in his much more ambivalent novel that the film was based on, Forbes and his actors deliberately set out to make a feminist satire, and according to some critics succeeded in producing an important document of second wave feminism which soon acquired cult status. However, it also provoked a number of negative reactions from feminists who were very uncomfortable with a film in which men get away with murdering the female population of an entire town. A closer inspection reveals that the satirical element of the film is indeed not prominent and frequently counteracted, at times facilitating a misogynist rather than a feminist interpretation. This is mainly due to the ending of the film which implies the murderous elimination of the female protagonist. Unlike all other cinematic and literary works that feature androids "The Stepford Wives" shows the successful creation of artificial life which does not backfire. In addition, the film which clearly categorises itself as a thriller and horror movie, and specifically alludes to the tradition of threatened yet strong female characters in these genres, at the same time defies this convention in favour of a seemingly misogynist ending. Thus the way in which "The Stepford Wives" refuses to comply with the traditions of both the android theme and the horror genre, involuntarily serves to undermine its intention as a feminist social satire.

The Romanian Orthodox Church

At first glance, the nationalist ideology of the French Revolution seems to have had little impact on the Orthodox Church in Romanian-speaking territories. Romanians were the predominant inhabitants of the principalities of Wallachia and Moldavia and the neighboring territories of Transylvania (including Crişana, Maramureş and Banat), Bukovina, Bessarabia, and Dobrudja. The majority of ethnic Romanians belonged to the Orthodox faith while their communities were at the intersection of geopo liti cal interests of the Rus sian, Ottoman, and Habsburg empires. In 1859 the Principalities of Wallachia and Moldavia (known as the Old Kingdom between 1866 and 1918) united into a single state under the rule of a local prince. The term "Romania" began to be used by the new state in its of cial documents in 1862. Two years later, the state supported the declaration of a Romanian autocephalous (in de pen dent) church that was recognized by the Ecumenical Patriarchate in 1885. As an integrative part of the Orthodox commonwealth, the church was situated between the competing jurisdictions of the Ecumenical Patriarchate and the Rus sian Orthodox Church, while its declaration of autocephaly followed a pattern in the spread of national churches in Southeastern Europe. From the Treaty of Kuchuk Kainardji of 1774 to the beginning of the Greek War for In de pen dence in 1821, the Romanian principalities were under the suzerainty of the Ottoman Empire, which had full control of their po liti cal and economic affairs. The sultan appointed princes, and the Porte determined their po liti cal and judicial status. The princes were drawn from the "Phanariots," and were directly appointed by the Porte from preponderantly Greek elite rather than the Romanian local elite, the boyars (boieri).1 In each principality, the church was headed by a metropolitan who was under the direct jurisdiction of the Ecumenical Patriarchate. That religion mattered to local population as a means of social cohesion was suggestively depicted by Anatole de Demidoff, an En glish traveler in the region in 1837. Arriving in Bucharest, the capital of Wallachia, he claimed that: I know of no city in Europe in which it is possible to find more agreeable society, or in which there is a better tone, united with the most charming gaiety⋯. Religion, which is here of the schismatic Greek creed, does not, properly speaking, hold any great empire over the minds of the Wallachian people, but they observe its outward forms, and particularly the austerities of fasting, with scrupulous exactitude. The people are seen to attend divine ser vice with every sign of respect, and the great number of churches existing in Wallachia, bear witness to the ardent zeal with which outward worship is honored.2 The Romanian Orthodox Church was a national institution, closely linked to social, economic, and po liti cal structures. In most cases, Orthodox hierarchs were appointed from the families of boyars, thus ensuring a close relationship with the state authorities and its policies. As one of the largest landowners in the principalities, the church had a prime role in administrating healthcare and education. Although the majority of the clergy was uneducated, it dispensed both ecclesiastical and civil justice and in many cases worked closely with boyars in local administration.3 The lower clergy not only contributed directly to the economy but also benefited from tax privileges. Some small villages had an unusually high proportion of clergy in comparison to the overall population. For example, in 1810, Stənisləveşti, a village in the south of Wallachia, was composed of eleven houses and had two priests, five deacons, and three cantors; similarly, the Frəsinet village of nineteen houses had two priests and five deacons.4 Although these cases were exceptional, they indicate both the economic value of being a member of the clergy and the wider canonical dimension of church jurisdiction. The special status of the clergy was reflected not only at lower but also at higher levels. Bishops and metropolitans engaged with state policy and in many cases opposition to the authorities led to the loss of a spiritual seat. The metropolitan of each principality worked with the prince and was president of the divan, the gathering of all boyars. He held the right to be the first person to comment on state policy and to make recommendations when the prince was absent. The metropolitan replaced the prince when the principality had no political ruler, such as in the cases of Metropolitan Veniamin Costachi of Moldavia in 1806 and Metropolitan Dositei Filitti of Wallachia, while the bishops of Buzəu and Argeş were members of the provisional government during the Rus sian occupation of the principalities in 1808. The higher clergy had both religious and political prerogatives in relation to foreign powers as evident in their heading of the boyars' delegation to peace negotiation between the Rus sian and Ottoman empires at Focşani in 1772 and addressing memoranda to the Austrian and Rus sian governments in 1802.5 The primary role of the church in the principalities of Moldavia and Wallachia was paralleled by the national mobilization of Orthodox communities in the neighboring territories that had Romanian inhabitants. Although throughout the region Orthodox communities were incorporated into church structures as part of the Habsburg, Austrian or Rus sian empires, the nineteenth century was characterized by the leadership's search for political autonomy and the building of a Romanian national identity. The Orthodox communities outside the Old Kingdom maintained relations with the faithful in principalities across the Carpathian Mountains and the Dniester River and sought support in their struggle for political and religious rights.

The fevered novel from Balzac to Bernanos:frenetic Catholicism in crisis, delirium and revolution

Book Review: The Fevered Novel from Balzac to Bernanos: Frenetic Catholicism in Crisis, Delirium and Revolution. By Francesco Manzini. (IGRS Books). London: Institute of Germanic and Romance Studies, 2011. 264 pp. Full text: This monograph is an important and compelling account of a novelistic tradition that stretches from Georges Bernanos back to Balzac, by way of Léon Bloy, Joris-Karl Huysmans, and Barbey d'Aurevilly. Depending on a master plot that evokes Maistrean themes of blood, sacrifice, and redemption, working in a feverish female body, this canon combines Romantic freneticism and anti-Enlightenment religion to create a compound that Francesco Manzini calls ‘frenetic Catholicism’. The theme of fever, Manzini tells us, was commented on by Huysmans in writing about Barbey d'Aurevilly. When André Gide read Bernanos's Sous le soleil de Satan, he dismissed it as a rehash of Bloy and Barbey. In this present work Manzini aims to make us aware once more of the gradually intensifying themacity of fever in writings more usually classed in theologo-literary categories. His analysis encompasses (though is not restricted to) Balzac's Ursule Mirouët, Barbey d'Aurevilly's Un prêtre marié, Huysmans's En rade, Bloy's Le Désespéré and La Femme pauvre, and Bernanos's Nouvelle histoire de Mouchette. Thus, as Manzini argues in his conclusion, between the freneticism of the Romantics and that of the surrealists this corpus represents an intermediary wave of freneticism, foregrounding fever, hyperconsciousness, dreamlike episodes, and female automatism. Manzini's knowledge of, and ease amidst, the sources is constantly impressive. Much like Richard Griffiths before him (The Reactionary Revolution: The Catholic Revival in French Literature, 1870–1914 (London: Constable, 1966)), he has read both the bad novels and the good ones. For that we are in his debt. His commentary thrives on the oddities of his subjects. He points quite rightly to the peculiar hubris of writers whose contempt for the secular excesses of scientism leads them down a cul-de-sac of primitive medical quackery. Likewise, he underlines how Zola's attempt to unwrite Barbey — exorcising the former's anti-Romantic animus, as much as scratching his anticlerical itch — leads him to recapitulate Barbey's religious authoritarianism in the secular vernacular of patriarchy. Les espèces qui se rapprochent se mangent, to paraphrase Bernanos (Les Grands Cimetières sous la lune). In spite of all Manzini's tightly organized analysis, however, this reader wonders whether the fevered novel ‘best allowed contemporaries — and now […] literary critics and historians — to imagine the issues at stake in the amorphous scientistic, religious, and political debates’ of the period (p. 17). Below the ideological clashes of nineteenth-century science and religion, the two contending dynamics of anthropocentrism and theocentrism are attested and, it can be argued, even more perfectly dramatized in other Catholic literature (Charles Péguy's poetry, for example). In these terms, what distinguishes the Catholic frenetics from their Romantic or surrealist counterparts is that their fevered subject represents an attempt to build a road out of what Canadian philosopher Charles Taylor calls ‘buffered’ individuality, and back towards the theocentric porous subject who is open to divine influence. By way of minor corrections, nuns do not take holy orders (p. 94) but make religious profession by taking vows. Also, the last Eucharistic host is not extreme unction (p. 119) but viaticum.

The unhappy marriage of religion and politics:problems and pitfalls for gender equality

This article explores how religion as a political force shapes and deflects the struggle for gender equality in contexts marked by different histories of nation building and challenges of ethnic diversity, different state–society relations (from the more authoritarian to the more democratic), and different relations between state power and religion (especially in the domain of marriage, family and personal laws). It shows how ‘private’ issues, related to the family, sexuality and reproduction, have become sites of intense public contestation between conservative religious actors wishing to regulate them based on some transcendent moral principle, and feminist and other human rights advocates basing their claims on pluralist and time- and context-specific solutions. Not only are claims of ‘divine truth’ justifying discriminatory practices against women hard to challenge, but the struggle for gender equality is further complicated by the manner in which it is closely tied up with, and inseparable from, struggles for social and economic justice, ethnic/racial recognition, and national self-determination vis-à-vis imperial/global domination.

Reconcilable differences, a dark comedy

Reconcilable Differences is the story of Miami radio host Adam Painter. Confused about relationships, Adam cancels his wedding and, under the guidance of his bad-boy best friend, delves into the demi-monde inhabited by strippers and hookers. On the air he begins to examine how men and women interact. Adam explores the night world, moving from a connection with its denizens through his talk show to direct experience of its license and loneliness. He fails miserably in his clumsy efforts with women and is fired, sued and arrested. An unlikely, unwilling rebel, Adam confronts change and stumbles almost truculently toward self-discovery. This picaresque novel is told in the third person closely attached to the protagonist. The time scheme covers a thirteen-week radio ratings period. The story encompasses the worlds of radio and the sex industry, using South Florida settings to re-inforce character, plot and theme.

“Doctor my eyes” : A natural experiment on the demand for eye care services

This paper is dedicated to our friend Divine Ikenwilo, who passed away on the 27th November 2015. Divine was a gifted researcher who was taken from us too early and will be sorely missed by everyone in the team. Our thoughts are with his family. This research was funded by a research grant (CGZ/2/533) from the Chief Scientist Office of the Scottish Government. The Health Economics Research Unit is funded by the Scottish Government Health and Social Care Directorate. The usual disclaimer applies.

Plato's Cretan Colony: Theology and Religion in the Political Philosophy of the Laws

The Laws is generally regarded as Plato’s attempt to engage with the practical realities of political life, as opposed to the more idealistic, or utopian, vision of the Republic. Yet modern scholars have often felt disquieted at the central role of religion in the Laws’ second-best city and regime. There are essentially the two dominant interpretations on offer today: either religion supports a repressive theocracy, which controls every aspect of the citizens’ lives to such an extent that even philosophy itself is discouraged, or religion is an example of the kind of noble lie, which the philosopher must deceive the citizens into believing—viz., that a god, not a man, is the author of the regime’s laws. I argue that neither of these interpretations do justice to the dialogue’s intricately dramatic structure, and therefore to Plato’s treatment of civil religion. What I propose is a third position in which Plato both takes seriously the social and political utility of religion, and views theology as a legitimate, and even necessary, subject of philosophical inquiry without going so far as to advocate theocracy as the second best form of regime.

I conclude that a proper focus on the dialogue form, combined with a careful historical analysis of Plato’s use of social and political institutions, reveals an innovative yet traditional form of civil religion, purified of the harmful influence of the poets, based on the authority of the oracle at Delphi, and grounded on a philosophical conception of god as the eternal source of order, wisdom, and all that is good. Through a union of traditional Delphic theology and Platonic natural theology, Plato gives the city of the Laws a common cult acceptable to philosopher and non-philosopher alike, and thus, not only bridges the gap between religion and philosophy, but also creates a sense of community, political identity, and social harmony—the prerequisites for political order and stability. The political theology of the Laws, therefore, provides a rational defense of the rule of law (νόμος) re-conceived as the application of divine Reason (νοῦς) to human affairs.

Chaucer and the Disconsolations of Philosophy: Boethius, Agency, and Literary Form in Late Medieval Literature

This study argues that Chaucer's poetry belongs to a far-reaching conversation about the forms of consolation (philosophical, theological, and poetic) that are available to human persons. Chaucer's entry point to this conversation was Boethius's Consolation of Philosophy, a sixth-century dialogue that tried to show how the Stoic ideals of autonomy and self-possession are not simply normative for human beings but remain within the grasp of every individual. Drawing on biblical commentary, consolation literature, and political theory, this study contends that Chaucer's interrogation of the moral and intellectual ideals of the Consolation took the form of philosophical disconsolations: scenes of profound poetic rupture in which a character, sometimes even Chaucer himself, turns to philosophy for solace and yet fails to be consoled. Indeed, philosophy itself becomes a source of despair. In staging these disconsolations, I contend that Chaucer asks his readers to consider the moral dimensions of the aspirations internal to ancient philosophy and the assumptions about the self that must be true if its insights are to console and instruct. For Chaucer, the self must be seen as a gift that flowers through reciprocity (both human and divine) and not as an object to be disciplined and regulated.

Chapter one focuses on the Consolation of Philosophy. I argue that recent attempts to characterize Chaucer's relationship to this text as skeptical fail to engage the Consolation on its own terms. The allegory of Lady Philosophy's revelation to a disconsolate Boethius enables philosophy to become both an agent and an object of inquiry. I argue that Boethius's initial skepticism about the pretentions of philosophy is in part what Philosophy's therapies are meant to respond to. The pressures that Chaucer's poetry exerts on the ideals of autonomy and self-possession sharpen one of the major absences of the Consolation: viz., the unanswered question of whether Philosophy's therapies have actually consoled Boethius. Chapter two considers one of the Consolation's fascinating and paradoxical afterlives: Robert Holcot's Postilla super librum sapientiae (1340-43). I argue that Holcot's Stoic conception of wisdom, a conception he explicitly links with Boethius's Consolation, relies on a model of agency that is strikingly similar to the powers of self-knowledge that Philosophy argues Boethius to posses. Chapter three examines Chaucer's fullest exploration of the Boethian model of selfhood and his ultimate rejection of it in Troilus and Criseyde. The poem, which Chaucer called his "tragedy," belonged to a genre of classical writing he knew of only from Philosophy's brief mention of it in the Consolation. Chaucer appropriates the genre to explore and recover mourning as a meaningful act. In Chapter four, I turn to Dante and the House of Fame to consider Chaucer's self-reflections about his ambitions as a poet and the demands of truth-telling.

The redemption of the past. On a main motif in Walter Benjamin’s work

The following paper examines Walter Benjamin’s reflection on the category of “redemption”, mainly developed in the theses On the concept of History. To this end, we will try firstly to reconstruct Benjamin’s critique of “fate”, as it unfolds in the twenties on the field of right, economy and, especially, history. The critique of the expiatory logic of “fate” – developed in essays such as Fate and Character, Critique of violence or Capitalism as religion – will then allow us to disclose the “dialectical” structure of redemption, whereby Benjamin mobilizes his previous theory of knowledge against the doctrine of progress.

"Lancea", Lusitanian Word, and the "Lancienses" Ethnogenesis

Analysis of the word lancea, of Hispanic origin after Varro, and of place names, people´s names and personal names derived from it. It confirms that the spear was the most important weapon in the Bronze Age, belonging to the iuventus and used as heroic and divine symbol. This analysis confirms also the personality of the Lusitanians, a people related to the Celts but with more archaic archaeological, linguistic and cultural characteristics originated in the tradition of the Atlantic Bronze in the II millennium BC. It is also relevant to better know the organisation of Broze and Iron Age societies and the origin of Indo-Europeans peoples in Western Europe and of pre-Roman peoples of Iberia.

The magical transformation contest in the ancient storytelling tradition

El concurso de transformación mágica, esquema narrativo difundido en la tradición popular, se presenta en dos variantes principales: los hechiceros que compiten pueden metamorfosearse en varios seres o crear esos seres por medios mágicos. En cualquier caso el concursante ganador da a luz criaturas más fuertes que superan las de su oponente. La segunda variante fue preferida en el antiguo Cercano Oriente (Sumeria, Egipto, Israel). La primera se puede encontrar en algunos mitos griegos sobre cambiadores de forma (por ejemplo, Zeus y Némesis). El mismo esquema narrativo puede haber influido en un episodio de la Novela de Alejandro (1.36-38), en el que Darío envía regalos simbólicos a Alejandro y los dos monarcas enemigos ofrecen contrastantes explicaciones de ellos. Esta historia griega racionaliza el concurso de cuento de hadas, transfiriendo las fantásticas hazañas de creaciones milagrosas a un plano secundario pero realista de metáfora lingüística.

Jan Steen and The doctor’s visit: Classical Tradition in Golden Age Dutch painting (1st Part)

First one of a two-part analysis on the influence of the Classical Tradition on a favourite theme along the Dutch painters of the Golden Age, The doctor’s visit or The lovesick maiden, especially in the Leiden artist’s production, Jan Steen (1626-1679).

The Devil and Views on the “Other” in Part One of Pedro Cieza de León’s "Crónica del Perú" (1553)

Many 16th century Spanish chroniclers and missionaries, arriving at what they interpreted as a New World, saw the Devil as a “hermeneutic wildcard” that allowed them to comprehend indigenous religions. Pedro Cieza de León, a soldier in the conquest of Peru, is a case in point. Cieza considers the Devil responsible for the most aberrant religious practices and customs of the Indians, although he views the natives in a positive light, as men susceptible to divine salvation. From a providentialist perspective of the history of the conquest, Cieza interprets that the evangelization and conversion of the Indians and the implantation of Christian civilization by the Spanish Crown, were able to defeat the Devil.

The Gospel of Something or Other / Critical mass

This thesis is comprised of two components: a creative work of fiction and a critical analysis of the fiction through a discussion of craft and creative influence. The creative section, the novel The Gospel of Something or Other, is a formally experimental work that explores authenticity - of both narrative and voice - authorial identity, the performativity of grief and sincerity, and the aesthetic function of narratalogical failure. The critical section of the thesis, Critical Mass, analyses the work of David Foster Wallace and James Wood in relation to the aforementioned fiction, discussing aspects of craft most relevant to the novel: the function of comedy and the function of manipulation. The critical piece investigates the extent to which influence can be identified in the creative process and the unstable relationship between critical interpretation and authorial intent.