The devil is not what he used to be. The mythic villain of the Christian tradition has become a cartoon version of his former terrifying self. And nowhere is this more apparent than in the visual arts. Fearsome images of the devil and his minions once adorned church walls, altars, and holy books. He was the very real incarnation of evil and his image was a lesson in the wages of sin. Today, however, when words like "sin" and "evil" have lost their theological if not cultural resonance, the arts have all but abandoned sincere representations of the devil, trading instead on his image as logo or slur. To image the devil after evil is to reimagine the very idea of evil. The artist Fred Stonehouse has accomplished precisely this.In the year 447 the Council of Toledo set out the first official description of the devil. At the council the devil was described as "a large, black, monstrous apparition with horns on his head, cloven hoofs, or one cloven hoof-ass's ears, hair, claws, fiery eyes, terrible teeth, an immense phallus, and a sulphurous smell" (Hughes 104). Since then the devil has morphed into a caricature of this fierce beast of Christian mythology. More recently the devil has made appearances as the logo for Underwood Deviled Ham and as a regular character on South Park. The reason the devil has ceased to function in the cultural imaginary as the personification of evil is because evil itself has become something of a superstitious relic. As Peter Stanford observes in his book, The Devil: A Biography, "Greater knowledge, less dependency on the idea of a figure of evil, and more on the nega- five within each individual has brought a more precise delineation of the unknown, the darkness, the shadow" (284). Like darkness brought to light, evil has lost its frightful mystery.The notion that evil is the willful product of an external cosmic agent bent on the pain, suffering, and misery of humanity has foundered as a viable theory of evil. Consequently, the devil too has lost much of his historical, theological, and cultural cache. Robert Muchembled argues that "[n]ot only has [the devil] ceased to exist as a terrifying external figure, he no longer even provokes a fear of the self, a dread of the inner demon..." (228). Two centuries of the demystification of evil have enfeebled the once mighty icon of incarnate malevolence.If for nearly two millennia the image of the devil was the didactic embodiment of evil, what then does the devil look like after evil? This article addresses that question by turning to the work of contemporary artist Fred Stonehouse, who has been painting the devil for over three decades with an uncanny awareness of, and artistic reflection on, the tradition of representing the devil in the arts.The following is composed of three sections. The first two form an argument regarding the place of the devil-as-villain in modem art, focusing briefly on the art historical trajectory of the image of the devil before attending to the wor
魔鬼已今非昔比。基督教传统中的神话反派已经变成了他以前可怕的自己的卡通版本。这一点在视觉艺术中表现得最为明显。魔鬼及其爪牙的可怕形象曾经装饰过教堂的墙壁、祭坛和圣书。他是邪恶的化身，他的形象是罪的代价的一个教训。然而，今天，当像“罪”和“恶”这样的词失去了神学上的共鸣，如果不是文化上的共鸣，艺术几乎放弃了对魔鬼的真诚表现，而是把他的形象作为标志或诽谤来交易。在邪恶之后想象魔鬼就是重新想象邪恶的概念。艺术家弗雷德·斯通豪斯(Fred Stonehouse)恰恰做到了这一点。公元447年，托莱多议会首次正式描述了魔鬼。在会议上，魔鬼被描述为“一个巨大的，黑色的，可怕的幽灵，头上有角，分蹄，或一个分蹄——驴的耳朵，头发，爪子，火热的眼睛，可怕的牙齿，巨大的阴茎，和硫磺味”(Hughes 104)。从那时起，魔鬼就变成了基督教神话中凶猛野兽的漫画。最近，魔鬼出现在安德伍德魔鬼火腿的标志上，并成为南方公园的常规角色。魔鬼不再在文化想象中扮演邪恶化身的角色，是因为邪恶本身已经变成了迷信的遗物。正如彼得·斯坦福(Peter Stanford)在他的书《魔鬼传》(The Devil: A Biography)中所言，“更多的知识，更少地依赖于邪恶形象的概念，而更多地依赖于每个人内心的负五，这带来了对未知、黑暗和阴影的更精确的描绘”(284)。就像黑暗变成了光明，邪恶失去了它可怕的神秘。认为邪恶是外部宇宙因素对人类痛苦、折磨和不幸的故意产物的观点，已经无法作为一种可行的邪恶理论。因此，魔鬼也失去了许多他的历史、神学和文化宝藏。Robert Muchembled认为“[魔鬼]不仅不再作为一个可怕的外在形象存在，他甚至不再引起对自我的恐惧，对内心恶魔的恐惧……”(228)。两个世纪以来，邪恶的神秘化已经削弱了曾经强大的化身邪恶的象征。如果在近两千年的时间里，魔鬼的形象是邪恶的说教化身，那么邪恶之后的魔鬼是什么样子呢?本文通过当代艺术家弗雷德·斯通豪斯(Fred Stonehouse)的作品来解决这个问题，斯通豪斯三十多年来一直在画魔鬼，他对艺术中表现魔鬼的传统有着不可思议的认识和艺术反思。下面由三个部分组成。前两者形成了关于魔鬼在现代艺术中作为反派的地位的争论，在关注当代艺术家弗雷德·斯通豪斯的作品之前，简要地关注了魔鬼形象的艺术史轨迹。第三部分转向斯通豪斯本人，对这位艺术家进行了深入的采访，谈到了他的作品、他的实践以及魔鬼在他画中的位置。第一节将魔鬼作为复仇式恶棍的宇宙原型。在这里，我关注的是魔鬼在历史上是如何在艺术中被塑造的，以及在弗雷德·斯通豪斯(Fred Stonehouse)的作品中，魔鬼形象在当代文化中的危险地位，在当代文化中，魔鬼已经变得更加俗气，而不是宇宙恶棍。第二部分转向弗雷德·斯通豪斯的艺术，对现代艺术中魔鬼形象的思考。在这一节中，我提出斯通豪斯通过将他从一个恶棍变成一个脆弱的象征，提供了一个罕见的、真诚的魔鬼形象。第三部分是对斯通豪斯的采访，探讨他的艺术实践的演变，他对魔鬼的迷恋的起源，以及他如何理解他作品中这个狡猾的角色。．．．
{"title":"The Devil in Fred Stonehouse: The Aesthetics of Evil After Evil","authors":"J. Elwell","doi":"10.17077/2168-569X.1413","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.17077/2168-569X.1413","url":null,"abstract":"The devil is not what he used to be. The mythic villain of the Christian tradition has become a cartoon version of his former terrifying self. And nowhere is this more apparent than in the visual arts. Fearsome images of the devil and his minions once adorned church walls, altars, and holy books. He was the very real incarnation of evil and his image was a lesson in the wages of sin. Today, however, when words like \"sin\" and \"evil\" have lost their theological if not cultural resonance, the arts have all but abandoned sincere representations of the devil, trading instead on his image as logo or slur. To image the devil after evil is to reimagine the very idea of evil. The artist Fred Stonehouse has accomplished precisely this.In the year 447 the Council of Toledo set out the first official description of the devil. At the council the devil was described as \"a large, black, monstrous apparition with horns on his head, cloven hoofs, or one cloven hoof-ass's ears, hair, claws, fiery eyes, terrible teeth, an immense phallus, and a sulphurous smell\" (Hughes 104). Since then the devil has morphed into a caricature of this fierce beast of Christian mythology. More recently the devil has made appearances as the logo for Underwood Deviled Ham and as a regular character on South Park. The reason the devil has ceased to function in the cultural imaginary as the personification of evil is because evil itself has become something of a superstitious relic. As Peter Stanford observes in his book, The Devil: A Biography, \"Greater knowledge, less dependency on the idea of a figure of evil, and more on the nega- five within each individual has brought a more precise delineation of the unknown, the darkness, the shadow\" (284). Like darkness brought to light, evil has lost its frightful mystery.The notion that evil is the willful product of an external cosmic agent bent on the pain, suffering, and misery of humanity has foundered as a viable theory of evil. Consequently, the devil too has lost much of his historical, theological, and cultural cache. Robert Muchembled argues that \"[n]ot only has [the devil] ceased to exist as a terrifying external figure, he no longer even provokes a fear of the self, a dread of the inner demon...\" (228). Two centuries of the demystification of evil have enfeebled the once mighty icon of incarnate malevolence.If for nearly two millennia the image of the devil was the didactic embodiment of evil, what then does the devil look like after evil? This article addresses that question by turning to the work of contemporary artist Fred Stonehouse, who has been painting the devil for over three decades with an uncanny awareness of, and artistic reflection on, the tradition of representing the devil in the arts.The following is composed of three sections. The first two form an argument regarding the place of the devil-as-villain in modem art, focusing briefly on the art historical trajectory of the image of the devil before attending to the wor","PeriodicalId":448595,"journal":{"name":"The Iowa Journal of Cultural Studies","volume":"12 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2013-04-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"131375513","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
In 2009, not one, but two pop culture products, Columbia Pictures's Zombieland and the Valve Corporation video game Left 4 Dead 2, decided to give the "zombie-apocalypse" plot a twist. Interestingly enough, they picked the same one. Zombies arrived at the amusement park. Both works still fall neatly within the zombie apocalypse genre. Their plots focus on a rag-tag band of survivors struggling to stay alive in a world overrun by the dead. However, both locate major portions of that struggle inside abandoned American fun lands. What's interesting is that these amusement parks aren't just grim, devastated ruins, backdrops used to contrast the levity of a pre-zombie world with the horror of a post-zombie one. Instead, both parks remain the pleasure centers they once were, although the "fun" is now not just in sampling the park's offerings; it is in fighting off the undead horde. In Zombieland and Left 4 Dead 2, the survivors bask in the adolescent dream of having the run of a carnival while delighting in combat against their assailants. They laugh and whoop for joy as they see the sights and ride the rides, their automatic weapons blaring. They diverge from the task of survival on the off chance of finding an unharmed Twinkie or concession stand, hoping to be the last person on Earth to savor the ambrosial flavor of junk food.While these post-apocalyptic trips serve mostly as light-hearted entries into the zombie-apocalypse megatext, they represent a compelling site for critical consid- eration when examined alongside earlier zombie narratives which have received attention from the academy, notably George A. Romero's Dawn of the Dead. Through such intertextual comparison, Zombieland and Left 4 Dead 2's respective uses of the amusement park will provide an avenue through which insight may be gleaned into a spate of changes the zombie has undergone as a villain figure in past years. Part of the reason for this is that, while Left 4 Dead 2 and Zombieland do enter various zones of commerce throughout their plots, their move to place significant portions of their narratives at amusement parks seems a bid to establish the carnival as a new canonical setting for zombie combat, just as Romero did with the American mega mall in Dawn of the Dead. The mall, made famous via Dawn's scathing commentary on materialism, has become inextricably connected to the zombie apocalypse. In fact, critics have argued that Dawn's mall-based meditation was so influential that it created a situation in which modem zombie narratives are "irrevocably associated with a critique of consumer culture" (Robbins 75). Yet, in Zombieland and Left 4 Dead 2, a discussion of materialism is largely elided. Instead, the characters are incorrigible seekers of pleasure, hunters of junk food and joy, and ardent fans of the entertainment industry with propensities towards fan worship that cannot be obliterated even by a zombie apocalypse. This new generation of entertainment-fixated zombie surviv
2009 年，哥伦比亚电影公司（Columbia Pictures）的《僵尸之地》（Zombieland）和 Valve 公司（Valve Corporation）的电子游戏《Left 4 Dead 2》（Left 4 Dead 2）这两部流行文化产品决定给 "僵尸启示录 "情节来个大转弯。有趣的是，它们选择了同一个情节。僵尸来到了游乐园。这两部作品仍然属于僵尸启示录类型。它们的情节都集中在一帮幸存者在一个被死人占领的世界里挣扎求生的故事。不过，这两部影片都将这场斗争的主要部分放在了美国废弃的游乐场内。有趣的是，这些游乐园并不只是灰暗、满目疮痍的废墟，也不是用来对比僵尸前世界的轻松与僵尸后世界的恐怖的背景。相反，这两个公园仍然是它们曾经的娱乐中心，不过现在的 "乐趣 "不仅仅在于品尝公园里的美食，还在于击退亡灵大军。在《僵尸之地》和《Left 4 Dead 2》中，幸存者们沉浸在青春期的梦想中，一边享受着狂欢的乐趣，一边与袭击者搏斗。他们一边大笑，一边欢呼，一边拿着自动武器大喊大叫。虽然这些末世之旅主要是作为僵尸启示录大文本中轻松愉快的条目，但如果将它们与受到学术界关注的早期僵尸叙事（尤其是乔治-A-罗梅罗的《死神的黎明》）放在一起进行研究，就会发现它们是一个引人注目的批判性思考场所。通过这种互文比较，《僵尸世界》和《Left 4 Dead 2》各自对游乐园的使用将提供一种途径，通过这种途径可以深入了解僵尸作为反派形象在过去几年中所经历的一系列变化。部分原因在于，虽然《左4死2》和《僵尸之地》在剧情中确实进入了各种商业区，但它们将叙事的重要部分放在游乐园的举动似乎是为了将嘉年华会确立为僵尸战斗的新经典场景，就像罗梅罗在《黎明杀机》中对美国大型购物中心所做的那样。购物中心因《黎明杀机》中对物质主义的嘲讽而闻名，如今已与僵尸启示录密不可分。事实上，评论家们认为，《黎明杀机》以购物中心为基础的冥想非常有影响力，它创造了这样一种局面，即现代僵尸叙事 "不可逆转地与消费文化批判联系在一起"（Robbins 75）。然而，在《僵尸之地》和《Left 4 Dead 2》中，对物质主义的讨论在很大程度上被忽略了。取而代之的是，剧中人物是无可救药的快乐追求者、垃圾食品和欢乐的猎手、娱乐产业的狂热粉丝，他们对粉丝的崇拜倾向即使是僵尸启示录也无法抹杀。通过对《左4 右2 》和《僵尸世界》的媒介和影像研究，将它们与《黎明时分》放在一起对话，我们将能够看到当今生活的物质变化与僵尸作为流行小说中的反派形象所经历的转变之间的相互关系，尤其是在暴力和享乐的动态方面。通过《Left 4 Dead 2》和《Zombieland》，我们将看到僵尸叙事的蜕变，从以商场为基础的物质主义批判，到在游乐园中血腥但不失娱乐性的狂欢，与当代生活的非物质化和数字化相呼应。简而言之，我们会发现僵尸已经从一种文化沉思的工具转变为一个血腥娱乐的焦点，一个新的合理的攻击目标。这些变化（从作为僵尸战场的商场到公园的转变中可以隐喻地捕捉到）是实体经济和社会向非物质和基于信息的经济和社会持续过渡的征兆。...
{"title":"Zombies Go to the Amusement Park: Entertainment, Violence, and the 21st Century Zombie in Zombieland and Left 4 Dead 2","authors":"N. Kelly","doi":"10.17077/2168-569X.1414","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.17077/2168-569X.1414","url":null,"abstract":"In 2009, not one, but two pop culture products, Columbia Pictures's Zombieland and the Valve Corporation video game Left 4 Dead 2, decided to give the \"zombie-apocalypse\" plot a twist. Interestingly enough, they picked the same one. Zombies arrived at the amusement park. Both works still fall neatly within the zombie apocalypse genre. Their plots focus on a rag-tag band of survivors struggling to stay alive in a world overrun by the dead. However, both locate major portions of that struggle inside abandoned American fun lands. What's interesting is that these amusement parks aren't just grim, devastated ruins, backdrops used to contrast the levity of a pre-zombie world with the horror of a post-zombie one. Instead, both parks remain the pleasure centers they once were, although the \"fun\" is now not just in sampling the park's offerings; it is in fighting off the undead horde. In Zombieland and Left 4 Dead 2, the survivors bask in the adolescent dream of having the run of a carnival while delighting in combat against their assailants. They laugh and whoop for joy as they see the sights and ride the rides, their automatic weapons blaring. They diverge from the task of survival on the off chance of finding an unharmed Twinkie or concession stand, hoping to be the last person on Earth to savor the ambrosial flavor of junk food.While these post-apocalyptic trips serve mostly as light-hearted entries into the zombie-apocalypse megatext, they represent a compelling site for critical consid- eration when examined alongside earlier zombie narratives which have received attention from the academy, notably George A. Romero's Dawn of the Dead. Through such intertextual comparison, Zombieland and Left 4 Dead 2's respective uses of the amusement park will provide an avenue through which insight may be gleaned into a spate of changes the zombie has undergone as a villain figure in past years. Part of the reason for this is that, while Left 4 Dead 2 and Zombieland do enter various zones of commerce throughout their plots, their move to place significant portions of their narratives at amusement parks seems a bid to establish the carnival as a new canonical setting for zombie combat, just as Romero did with the American mega mall in Dawn of the Dead. The mall, made famous via Dawn's scathing commentary on materialism, has become inextricably connected to the zombie apocalypse. In fact, critics have argued that Dawn's mall-based meditation was so influential that it created a situation in which modem zombie narratives are \"irrevocably associated with a critique of consumer culture\" (Robbins 75). Yet, in Zombieland and Left 4 Dead 2, a discussion of materialism is largely elided. Instead, the characters are incorrigible seekers of pleasure, hunters of junk food and joy, and ardent fans of the entertainment industry with propensities towards fan worship that cannot be obliterated even by a zombie apocalypse. This new generation of entertainment-fixated zombie surviv","PeriodicalId":448595,"journal":{"name":"The Iowa Journal of Cultural Studies","volume":"57 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2013-04-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"130041806","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
From antiquity to the present, social theory has often fused critical and creative discourse, esoteric and exhibitionistic tendencies. Socrates and Diogenes first announced many of their most radical propositions in the Athenian marketplace. Thoreau sowed his solitary beans while remaining (as scholar Stanley Cavell suggests) just barely within his neighbors' view. And now, as archivists of evanescent urban experience, as grazers of the public space, we have recorded forty-five-minute dialogues for thirty straight days around New York City.Flalf these talks took place at a Union Square health-food store which, for legal reasons, we call "W.F." Other locations included MoMA, the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Metropolitan Opera House, Central Park, Prospect Park, and a Tribeca parking garage. For this special issue on villains, we present the first dialogue.7:43p.m. Friday, December 30Union Square W.F.[First minute garbled]A: .. .scone and bagel, told her I'd already purchased them. I paid for a turkey burger (three dollars ninety-six cents). I held in my gloved hand a kiwi, and as I peeled off the glove I wrapped the kiwi in the glove. I put the gloves in my hat and put that in the cart-then I grabbed a bowl of spinach, baby spinach, organic of course. That cost a dollar five. So so I did spend more than hoped: 5.01 altogether.J: But getting a considerable...A: Yeah. A full meal.J: And allowing us to have this conversation.A: Correct, which at eight dollars might seem extravagant. It would mean the night had to end immediately. When I bought the turkey burger, or selected the turkey burger, the cashier, I mean deli guy, said he sensed I want to party tonight.J: And this is your idea of a party right?A: Oh yeah. Oh yeah. We've seen people we know. There's that man I have a crush on. There's the boy I saw. A former student stepped into the aisle. Her name's Fong.J: Fawn, is that right?A: F-o-n-g. Like fang.J: Oh Fong.A: Fang with an O.J: I've read an email she once sent you.A: Extremely polite.J: And as as I remember, you said a great student.A: One of my best.J: A hard worker and talented.A: It frightened me in the bread aisle. Fong craved discipline and I pictured her disciplining me tonight. So have you adjusted to being back, back back in New York?J: That's tough, let me tell you: it's an expensive city. I could never return if you hadn't arranged...A: Happy to do so. Can I interrupt one sec? Does this have saffron, or curry or something?J: I don't know what's all...A: [Muffled] out later.J: in Royal Ginseng tea. Though I've stashed the box...A: With aromatic...J: right here. Here's the list of ingredients.A: Maybe cinnamon bark?J: Cinnamon bark you've tasted.A: Honeybush. Licorice.J: Black pepper.A: Possible. But sorry, I shouldn't interrupt. New York seemed more...J: It's an expensive city; I couldn't move back from Providence if you hadn't arranged this cat-sitting gig. Still the place needs work. I didn't get good sleep. The cat would jump
{"title":"Florestan (from Conversations over Stolen Food)","authors":"Jon Cotner, Andy Fitch","doi":"10.17077/2168-569X.1415","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.17077/2168-569X.1415","url":null,"abstract":"From antiquity to the present, social theory has often fused critical and creative discourse, esoteric and exhibitionistic tendencies. Socrates and Diogenes first announced many of their most radical propositions in the Athenian marketplace. Thoreau sowed his solitary beans while remaining (as scholar Stanley Cavell suggests) just barely within his neighbors' view. And now, as archivists of evanescent urban experience, as grazers of the public space, we have recorded forty-five-minute dialogues for thirty straight days around New York City.Flalf these talks took place at a Union Square health-food store which, for legal reasons, we call \"W.F.\" Other locations included MoMA, the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Metropolitan Opera House, Central Park, Prospect Park, and a Tribeca parking garage. For this special issue on villains, we present the first dialogue.7:43p.m. Friday, December 30Union Square W.F.[First minute garbled]A: .. .scone and bagel, told her I'd already purchased them. I paid for a turkey burger (three dollars ninety-six cents). I held in my gloved hand a kiwi, and as I peeled off the glove I wrapped the kiwi in the glove. I put the gloves in my hat and put that in the cart-then I grabbed a bowl of spinach, baby spinach, organic of course. That cost a dollar five. So so I did spend more than hoped: 5.01 altogether.J: But getting a considerable...A: Yeah. A full meal.J: And allowing us to have this conversation.A: Correct, which at eight dollars might seem extravagant. It would mean the night had to end immediately. When I bought the turkey burger, or selected the turkey burger, the cashier, I mean deli guy, said he sensed I want to party tonight.J: And this is your idea of a party right?A: Oh yeah. Oh yeah. We've seen people we know. There's that man I have a crush on. There's the boy I saw. A former student stepped into the aisle. Her name's Fong.J: Fawn, is that right?A: F-o-n-g. Like fang.J: Oh Fong.A: Fang with an O.J: I've read an email she once sent you.A: Extremely polite.J: And as as I remember, you said a great student.A: One of my best.J: A hard worker and talented.A: It frightened me in the bread aisle. Fong craved discipline and I pictured her disciplining me tonight. So have you adjusted to being back, back back in New York?J: That's tough, let me tell you: it's an expensive city. I could never return if you hadn't arranged...A: Happy to do so. Can I interrupt one sec? Does this have saffron, or curry or something?J: I don't know what's all...A: [Muffled] out later.J: in Royal Ginseng tea. Though I've stashed the box...A: With aromatic...J: right here. Here's the list of ingredients.A: Maybe cinnamon bark?J: Cinnamon bark you've tasted.A: Honeybush. Licorice.J: Black pepper.A: Possible. But sorry, I shouldn't interrupt. New York seemed more...J: It's an expensive city; I couldn't move back from Providence if you hadn't arranged this cat-sitting gig. Still the place needs work. I didn't get good sleep. The cat would jump","PeriodicalId":448595,"journal":{"name":"The Iowa Journal of Cultural Studies","volume":"11 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2013-04-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"128034568","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
Six minutes into Todd Haynes’s film Far From Heaven, the fragility of the domestic facade (of a harmonious, loving family) becomes obvious as the supposedly per fect, happy wife Cathy Whittaker receives a phone call from the police informing her that her husband is at the station (picked up, we later learn, for “loitering”). But we expected as much. From the film’s opening frames, Far From Heaven's satu rated “technicolor” palette, its mournful yet resolute full-orchestra soundtrack, its gleaming vintage cars, spotless sets, and well-starched costumes all point to the film’s reconstitution of a particular past, a re-presentation that relies on our cin ematic knowledge. We recognize the narrative and mise-en-scene as intertextual, as generally drawing on a past representational style that includes most Hollywood film productions from the 1950s. For those audience members in the know, the film has a more specific intertext in its recreation of the “woman’s weepie” (Singer 37), a melodramatic mode characterized by female protagonists forced to bear heartache, betrayal, prejudice, and other great injustices. Reproducing cinematic melodrama, particularly the “woman’s” domestic melo drama that reached its apotheosis in the work of Douglas Sirk, is a hazardous move, fraught with the usual dangers of reconstituting past forms (audience confusion and rejection, accusations of derivative filmmaking) and the added risk of trivialization stemming from the marginalized socio-historical position of the genre. As Christine Gledhill explains, “the relative invisibility of melodrama today is due to the rise of realism as a touchstone of cultural worth and to its ghettoisation as a Amelia DeFalco is a doctoral candidate at the University of Toronto working on aging and the uncanny in contemporary literature and film.
托德·海恩斯的电影《远离天堂》上映六分钟后，家庭表面(和谐、充满爱的家庭)的脆弱变得显而易见，本应完美、幸福的妻子凯茜·惠特克接到警察的电话，通知她丈夫在警察局(后来我们得知，她是因为“闲逛”而被抓的)。但我们的预期也是如此。从影片开头的画面来看，《远离天堂》中饱和的“彩色”调色板，悲伤而坚定的全管弦配乐，闪闪发光的老式汽车，一尘不染的布景，以及上浆良好的服装，都表明这部电影是对特定过去的重构，是一种依赖于我们的科学知识的再现。我们认识到叙事和场景布置是互文的，总体上借鉴了过去的代表性风格，包括20世纪50年代以来的大多数好莱坞电影作品。对于那些知情的观众来说，这部电影在“女人的哭泣”(歌手37)的再现中有一个更具体的互文，这是一种情节剧模式，以女性主角被迫承受心痛、背叛、偏见和其他巨大的不公正为特征。复制电影情节剧，尤其是在道格拉斯·瑟克(Douglas Sirk)的作品中达到顶峰的“女性”家庭情节剧，是一个危险的举动，充满了重构过去形式的危险(观众的困惑和排斥，对衍生电影制作的指责)，以及由于该类型的边缘化社会历史地位而产生的平庸化的额外风险。正如克里斯汀·格莱德希尔(Christine Gledhill)所解释的那样，“今天情节剧的相对不被关注，是因为现实主义作为文化价值的试金石的兴起，以及它的狭隘化。”阿米莉亚·德法尔科(Amelia DeFalco)是多伦多大学(University of Toronto)的博士候选人，研究当代文学和电影中的老龄化和神秘。
{"title":"A Double-Edged Longing: Nostalgia, Melodrama, and Todd Haynes's Far from Heaven","authors":"A. DeFalco","doi":"10.17077/2168-569X.1114","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.17077/2168-569X.1114","url":null,"abstract":"Six minutes into Todd Haynes’s film Far From Heaven, the fragility of the domestic facade (of a harmonious, loving family) becomes obvious as the supposedly per fect, happy wife Cathy Whittaker receives a phone call from the police informing her that her husband is at the station (picked up, we later learn, for “loitering”). But we expected as much. From the film’s opening frames, Far From Heaven's satu rated “technicolor” palette, its mournful yet resolute full-orchestra soundtrack, its gleaming vintage cars, spotless sets, and well-starched costumes all point to the film’s reconstitution of a particular past, a re-presentation that relies on our cin ematic knowledge. We recognize the narrative and mise-en-scene as intertextual, as generally drawing on a past representational style that includes most Hollywood film productions from the 1950s. For those audience members in the know, the film has a more specific intertext in its recreation of the “woman’s weepie” (Singer 37), a melodramatic mode characterized by female protagonists forced to bear heartache, betrayal, prejudice, and other great injustices. Reproducing cinematic melodrama, particularly the “woman’s” domestic melo drama that reached its apotheosis in the work of Douglas Sirk, is a hazardous move, fraught with the usual dangers of reconstituting past forms (audience confusion and rejection, accusations of derivative filmmaking) and the added risk of trivialization stemming from the marginalized socio-historical position of the genre. As Christine Gledhill explains, “the relative invisibility of melodrama today is due to the rise of realism as a touchstone of cultural worth and to its ghettoisation as a Amelia DeFalco is a doctoral candidate at the University of Toronto working on aging and the uncanny in contemporary literature and film.","PeriodicalId":448595,"journal":{"name":"The Iowa Journal of Cultural Studies","volume":"32 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2004-09-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"128232638","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
In this article I am suggesting that Feidelson’s approach be appropriated for the contemplation and understanding of extra-literary phenomena like the extreme machine. As Russell Reising points out, Feidelson’s “historical premise—that symbolism arose at a particular historical moment —could generate semiotic analyses of the relationships between cultural texts (literature, advertising, political discourses and so on) and social contexts, even though the texts themselves purport to transcend social determination” (180). One might extrapolate from this passage to ask the following questions: How do popular mass-produced objects and trends take on symbolic weight in American culture? What connections might we make between these commodities and American literary texts that represent historical events, debates, and individual psychology? And more specifically, if also more whimsically, is there a secret symbolic relationship between Melville’s Moby-Dick and the extreme machine?
{"title":"The Evil of Banality: Moby Dick vs. the Extreme Machine","authors":"Caroline V. Hamilton","doi":"10.17077/2168-569X.1045","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.17077/2168-569X.1045","url":null,"abstract":"In this article I am suggesting that Feidelson’s approach be appropriated for the contemplation and understanding of extra-literary phenomena like the extreme machine. As Russell Reising points out, Feidelson’s “historical premise—that symbolism arose at a particular historical moment —could generate semiotic analyses of the relationships between cultural texts (literature, advertising, political discourses and so on) and social contexts, even though the texts themselves purport to transcend social determination” (180). One might extrapolate from this passage to ask the following questions: How do popular mass-produced objects and trends take on symbolic weight in American culture? What connections might we make between these commodities and American literary texts that represent historical events, debates, and individual psychology? And more specifically, if also more whimsically, is there a secret symbolic relationship between Melville’s Moby-Dick and the extreme machine?","PeriodicalId":448595,"journal":{"name":"The Iowa Journal of Cultural Studies","volume":"290 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2004-05-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"133121441","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
Many filmmakers have chosen what they would call a “faithful” approach to adap tation, in which the plot and characters are extracted and utilized as the basis of the action represented in the film. The resulting adaptations have catapulted classic narratives (usually novels or plays) into a more lucrative medium, thereby exploit ing the text as a template or stencil and reducing the adapter to a mere copier of plot. What the adapter borrows is essentially the narrative, which, as Seymour Chatman points out, lends itself most easily to such borrowing. Chatman writes:
{"title":"Towards an Art of Adaptation: Film and the New Criticism-as-Creation","authors":"L. Dovey","doi":"10.17077/2168-569X.1017","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.17077/2168-569X.1017","url":null,"abstract":"Many filmmakers have chosen what they would call a “faithful” approach to adap tation, in which the plot and characters are extracted and utilized as the basis of the action represented in the film. The resulting adaptations have catapulted classic narratives (usually novels or plays) into a more lucrative medium, thereby exploit ing the text as a template or stencil and reducing the adapter to a mere copier of plot. What the adapter borrows is essentially the narrative, which, as Seymour Chatman points out, lends itself most easily to such borrowing. Chatman writes:","PeriodicalId":448595,"journal":{"name":"The Iowa Journal of Cultural Studies","volume":"114 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2002-09-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"128432906","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
{"title":"View Viewed and Viewer Views: A \"Book Review\" of Trinh T. Minh-Ha's Framer Framed","authors":"B. Attias","doi":"10.17077/2168-569X.1155","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.17077/2168-569X.1155","url":null,"abstract":"","PeriodicalId":448595,"journal":{"name":"The Iowa Journal of Cultural Studies","volume":"74 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"1900-01-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"117179180","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
{"title":"Review: Best of Times, Worst of Times: Contemporary American Short Stories from the New Gilded Age. Wendy Martin and Cecilia Tichi, eds.","authors":"Elizabeth Lundberg","doi":"10.17077/2168-569X.1416","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.17077/2168-569X.1416","url":null,"abstract":"","PeriodicalId":448595,"journal":{"name":"The Iowa Journal of Cultural Studies","volume":"243 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"1900-01-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"121244501","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
The sacred image, the liturgical icon, principally represents Christ. It cannot represent the invisible and incomprehensible God, but the incarnation of the Son of God has ushered in a new “economy of images”: “Previously God, who has neither a Body nor a face, absolutely could not be represented by an image. But now that he has made himself visible in the flesh and has lived with men, I can make an image of what I have seen of God . . . and contemplate the glory of the Lord, his face unveiled.” —Catechism of the Catholic Church
{"title":"Watching Critics, Watching Journalists, Watching Cameras, Watching Sheriffs, Watching Pee-wee Herman Watch: The Extraordinary Case of the Saturday Morning Children's Show Celebrity Who Masturbated","authors":"W. Nericcio","doi":"10.17077/2168-569X.1048","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.17077/2168-569X.1048","url":null,"abstract":"The sacred image, the liturgical icon, principally represents Christ. It cannot represent the invisible and incomprehensible God, but the incarnation of the Son of God has ushered in a new “economy of images”: “Previously God, who has neither a Body nor a face, absolutely could not be represented by an image. But now that he has made himself visible in the flesh and has lived with men, I can make an image of what I have seen of God . . . and contemplate the glory of the Lord, his face unveiled.” —Catechism of the Catholic Church","PeriodicalId":448595,"journal":{"name":"The Iowa Journal of Cultural Studies","volume":"31 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"1900-01-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"127064764","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
{"title":"On Queer Intercourse","authors":"B. Beemyn, K. Floyd, Teresa Konechne","doi":"10.17077/2168-569X.1189","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.17077/2168-569X.1189","url":null,"abstract":"","PeriodicalId":448595,"journal":{"name":"The Iowa Journal of Cultural Studies","volume":"6 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"1900-01-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"127204478","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
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