Journal articles on the topic 'Boylove novel'

Abstract Reading the Taiwanese author Wu Jiwen's 1996 novel Fin-de-siècle Boylove Reader (Shijimo shaonian’ai duben), this essay considers the age-old figure of the male dan and the critical role it played in the emerging gay scene in the Sinophone world at the turn of the twenty-first century. Based on the Qing author Chen Sen's novel Precious Mirror for the Appreciation of Flowers (Pinhua baojian), Wu's version resorts to the figure of the male dan, often referred to as xianggong, to explore male same-sex intimacies, which were gaining increasing visibility in the 1990s Sinophone world. While scholars generally agree that the male dan in Wu's novel bears considerable resemblance to the figure of the contemporary gay man, some read the ending of Wu's novel, where the two protagonists, Mei Ziyu and Du Qinyan, part ways, as representing a compromise. I contend that this “unhappy ending” points to Wu's most radical departure from Chen's novel. The original novel's ending, where Ziyu lives happily ever after with both his wife and Qinyan, reaffirms the centrality of the “polygamous” patron-patronized relationship in the late imperial imagination of male-male relations. In contrast, the failed relationship between Ziyu and Qinyan in Wu's version points to the obsoleteness of the xiangong system, as well as the polygamous mode in the 1990s, which required new modes, categories, and symbols for the imagination of male same-sex relationships. Arguing that in this novel forces past and present, local and global converge, the author uses it to explore the larger question of how to approach the queer Sinophone.

By the mid-1960s, American writer Kay Boyle was in possession of a three-book contract from Doubleday publishers in New York. The cornerstone of this deal was to be a history of Germany, a manuscript she began in the late 1950s. Boyle encountered difficulties completing this work, and after lobbying successfully to write a history of German women instead, she eventually abandoned the project altogether. To help her meet her professional obligations, Boyle hoped that Doubleday would accept a new plan to republish Three Short Novels, a work that had appeared under the Beacon imprint in 1958. That publisher still had four thousand copies of the book in its warehouse, however, and Doubleday editor Ken McCormick was unable to agree to Boyle’s proposal. McCormick suggested instead that she undertake work revising Robert McAlmon’s 1938 autobiography, Being Geniuses Together. Indeed, in the years following his death in 1956, Boyle had been unsuccessful in locating an American publisher for her friend’s book, so when Doubleday brought forward an edition of the work in 1968, it contained alternate chapters written by Kay Boyle, herself. McAlmon’s original text is approximately one hundred and ten thousand words in length; Boyle’s edition is one hundred and sixty thousand words, only seventy thousand of which were written by Robert McAlmon. ‘‘This present book is his,’’ Boyle wrote of McAlmon’s achievement in her 1984 afterword (333), and while one might argue that this is the case, no one can question the fact that his book was altered substantially from its original form.

This article explores T.C. Boyle’s thirteenth novel When the Killing’s Done (2011) in regard to its representation of ecological crisis and the ensuing environmental activism. In particular, it argues that the distinctly urban background and way of life of the two main protagonists, National Park Service staff member Alma Boyd Takesue and radical eco-hipster Dave LaJoy, foster environmental imaginations of the California Channel Islands that underestimate the centuries-long agricultural uses of the islands and romanticize the islands’ ecosystems as pristine ‘wilderness.’ While this perception in the tradition of the ‘American cult of wilderness’ prompts Alma and the National Park Service to reestablish a historical state of the islands’ ecosystems through the calculated extermination of invasive species, eco-activist Dave fiercely fights for the right of every non-human animal to live. Ultimately, the novel deconstructs both these endeavors to biodiversity and animal rights as highly flawed and environmentally as well as ethically inconsistent. Resumen Este artículo explora la decimotercera novela de T. C. Boyle con el título When the Killing’s Done (2011) en cuanto a la representación de la crisis ecológica y al consiguiente activismo ecologista. En particular, afirma que el fondo y la forma de vida claramente urbanos de los dos protagonistas principales, Alma Boyd Takesue, miembro del personal del Servicio de Parques Nacionales, y Dave LaJoy, un eco-hipster radical, fomentan imaginaciones medioambientales de las islas California Channel Islands que subestiman los largos siglos de uso agrícola de las islas e idealizan los ecosistemas de las islas como ‘naturaleza virgen.’ Mientras esta percepción en la tradición del “culto americano de naturaleza virgen” anima a Alma y al Servicio de Parques Nacionales a restablecer un estado histórico de los ecosistemas de las islas a través del exterminio deliberado de especies invasoras, el eco-activista Dave lucha decididamente por el derecho de todos los animales no-humanos a vivir. En última instancia, la novela deconstruye ambos esfuerzos por la biodiversidad y los derechos de los animales como muy imperfectos e inconsistentes tanto ambiental como éticamente.

AbstractAccording to the transparency approach, achievement of self-knowledge is a two-stage process: first, the subject arrives at the judgment ‘p’; second, the subject proceeds to the judgment ‘I believe thatp.’ The puzzle of transparency is to understand why the transition from the first to the second judgment is rationally permissible. After revisiting the debate between Byrne and Boyle on this matter, I present a novel solution according to which the transition is rationally permissible in virtue of a justifying argument that begins from a premise referring to the mental utterance that is emitted in the course of judging ‘p.’

AbstractT. C. Boyle’s fifteenth novel The Harder They Come (2015) offers a fictional inquiry into the American propensity for violence and takes its title from Jimmy Cliff’s 1972 reggae song and its motto from D. H. Lawrence’s characterization of the “essential American soul [as] hard, isolate, stoic, and a killer” (1978: 68). The article investigates how Boyle creates a metafictional historiography by combining two unrelated historical events – the bare-handed killing of a mugger by an elderly American veteran in Costa Rica and the long police hunt for the schizophrenic murderer Aaron Bassler in the Mendocino Redwoods – with a fictional character who represents the paranoid fringe worlds of sovereign citizens. The article then shows how Boyle embeds his plot in a general atmosphere of menace and incorporates the legend of the heroic mountain man John Colter, thus adding historical depth and evoking the world of wilderness survivalists. It also examines the narrative techniques, such as the choice of a schizophrenic’s point of view, and the stylistic features employed in order to fuse these ingredients into a thrilling tale that reveals the hidden relations between American foundation myths and the threats of contemporary gun violence.

The Tortilla Curtain (1995), a novel by T. Coraghessan Boyle, juxtaposes the existence of southern California's affluent whites and non-white underclass by relating the stories of two couples whose lives become irrevocably entangled following a fateful automobile accident. The period flavour derives from racial tensions that culminated in the Los Angeles riots of 1992 and the passage, two years later, of Proposition 187, a package of prohibitive measures to curb the influx of “undocumented” immigrants from Mexico. Delaney Mossbacher, the book's main character, is a freelance nature writer with orthodox liberal views – a caricatured Sierra Club member. He contributes a monthly, Annie Dillard-esque nature column (“Pilgrim at Topanga Creek”) to an outdoor magazine. He lives in an upscale hilltop community designed in impeccable Spanish mission style – the product of white flight – apparently safe from the Mexican hordes that have broken through the border (the brittle “tortilla curtain” of the novel's title) and are overrunning the flatlands.

True-breeding lines of Zinnia marylandica Spooner, Stimart and Boyle [allotetraploids of Z. angustifolia H.B.K. and Z. violacea Cav. (2n = 46)] were reciprocally backcrossed with diploid and autotetraploid forms of Z. angustifolia (2n =22 or 44) and Z. violacea (2n =24 or 48). In most cases, backcrosses were more successful with Z. angustifolia and Z. violacea as autotetraploids than as diploids. Seed-generated, backcross (BC1) families were obtained by crossing Z. marylandica (as female) with autotetraploid Z. angustifolia or autotetraploid Z. violacea. BC1 plants were phenotypically intermediate between the two parental lines for most morphological characters. Crosses between Z. marylandica and autotetraploid Z. angustifolia yielded BC1 plants with 33% stainable pollen, whereas crosses between Z. marylandica and autotetraploid Z. violacea yielded BC1 plants that produced malformed, poorly-stained pollen. No embryos were observed in capitula collected from field-grown BC1 plants. BC1 hybrids of Z. marylandica and autotetraploid Z. violacea produced larger capitula and more ray florets than Z. marylandica, and exhibited novel combinations of floral pigments not observed in Z. marylandica ray florets. BC1 hybrids of Z. marylandica and Z. violacea have commercial potential as seed-propagated, bedding plants.

Starting with Franco Moretti's hypothesis of a relationship between the experience of modernity and the coming of age narrative in the European novel, this article explores representations of the working-class Bildung in contemporary British films that can be seen as responding to social and economic changes generally associated with neoliberalism. Contrasting the emphasis on the individual negotiation of social space in the films of Danny Boyle with work from a range of directors, including Ken Loach, Penny Woolcock, Shane Meadows and Anton Corbijn, along with recent production cycles such as the football film, the article seeks to identify representations of working-class experiences, both limiting and liberating, which mark the inherently problematic attempt to imagine a successful working-class coming of age. In doing so, the article considers the usefulness of Raymond Williams’ class-inflected account of traditions of the social bond, in particular his notion of a ‘common culture’. At the same time, it examines how such representations of working-class life often emphasise the experience of class conflict, distinguished here from class struggle, and how, formally, this emphasis can result in narratives which are marked less by what Moretti describes as the ‘novelistic’, temporising structures of the classical Bildungsroman and more by the sense of crisis and trauma found in the late Bildungsroman and modern tragedy. Ultimately, the article argues for the relevance of the long view of the social history of Britain, as a pioneer culture of capitalism, in understanding these aspects of the representation of class cultures in contemporary British film.

BackgroundCD20, a membrane B cell marker, is expressed on the majority of mature B cell neoplasms, including diffuse large B cell lymphoma and follicular lymphoma. Importantly, CD20 is the target of rituximab as well as autologous T cell and BiTE® therapies in clinical development. Studies show that one mechanism of resistance to rituximab-containing therapies is downregulation of CD20.1 2 Development of an assay that provides highly sensitive and accurate detection of CD20 levels in the tissue context may help to assess whether there is a minimum CD20 threshold associated with response to rituximab or other CD20-targeted therapies. Here, we describe the development of a novel Quanticell™ assay for sensitive and quantitative detection of CD20 expression in formalin-fixed paraffin-embedded (FFPE) biopsy samples from NHL patients.MethodsA CD20 (Abcam, clone SP32) Quanticell-based assay, which utilizes Konica Minolta’s novel fluorescent phosphor-integrated dots (PIDs)3 was optimized on a panel of B lymphoma cell lines. Flow cytometry was performed to benchmark assay performance. Next, a human B lymphoma tissue microarray (TMA, n=39 cores) was stained using DAB-IHC to evaluate CD20 expression. Tumor cores (n=10) showing CD20highCD19high expression by DAB-IHC and immunofluorescence (IF)-IHC were selected for further evaluation. Human tonsil tissue was used to assess CD20 assay performance as a Quanticell singleplex or duplexed with CD19 IF-IHC. The TMA was stained with CD20 Quanticell plus CD19-AF488 to measure CD20 expression on a per cell basis. To assess sensitivity of CD20 Quanticell detection, a CD19 negative non-B cell core was analyzed. CD20 expression determined by Quanticell was compared to results generated with a commercially available method enabling digital profiling of CD20 protein in FFPE sections.ResultsAnalytical comparison between the Quanticell assay and flow cytometry on cell lines showed strong concordance between the two methods (CD20 Quanticell score versus CD20 receptor number). The Quanticell method demonstrated a broader dynamic range in CD20 expression in the TMA samples compared to DAB-IHC. Both the Quanticell and digital protein detection assays appropriately clustered cores into CD20low and CD20high categories. Notably, the CD20 Quanticell assay demonstrated the ability to measure CD20 expression accurately and precisely over a broader dynamic range when compared to the digital method.ConclusionsRelative to DAB IHC, the novel CD20 Quanticell assay provides significantly enhanced detection and quantification of CD20 in FFPE tissue samples. This technology may be useful to assess whether there are critical antigen densities associated with response to CD20-targeting therapies.AcknowledgementsThe authors gratefully acknowledge technical assistance from Ankit Gandhi and Marie Zamanis. The authors also thank Sean Gerrin for technical writing review.Trial RegistrationN/AEthics ApprovalN/AConsentN/AReferencesJohnson NA, Boyle A, Bashashati A, et al. Diffuse large B-cell lymphoma: Reduced CD20 expression is associated with an inferior survival. Blood; 2009;113:3773.Rasheed AA, Samad A, Raheem A, et al. CD20 expression and effects on outcome of relapsed/refractory diffuse large B cell lymphoma after treatment with Rituximab. Asian Pac J Cancer Prev 2018; 19: 331Gonda K, Watanabe M, Tada H, et al. Quantitative diagnostic imaging of cancer tissues by using phosphor-integrated dots with ultra-high brightness. Sci Rep 2017;7:7509.

We construct Bratteli–Vershik models for Toeplitz flows and characterize a class of properly ordered Bratteli diagrams corresponding to these flows. We use this result to extend by a novel approach—using basic theory of dimension groups—an interesting and non-trivial result about Toeplitz flows, first shown by Downarowicz. (Williams had previously obtained preliminary results in this direction.) The result states that to any Choquet simplex $K$, there exists a $0$–$1$ Toeplitz flow $(Y,\psi)$, so that the set of invariant probability measures of $(Y,\psi)$ is affinely homeomorphic to $K$. Not only do we give a conceptually new proof of this result, we also show that we may choose $(Y,\psi)$ to have zero entropy and to have full rational spectrum.Furthermore, our Bratteli–Vershik model for a given Toeplitz flow explicitly exhibits the factor map onto the maximal equicontinuous (odometer) factor. We utilize this to give a simple proof of the existence of a uniquely ergodic 0–1 Toeplitz flow of zero entropy having a given odometer as its maximal equicontinuous factor and being strongly orbit equivalent to this factor. By the same token, we show the existence of 0–1 Toeplitz flows having the 2-odometer as their maximal equicontinuous factor, being strong orbit equivalent to the same, and assuming any entropy value in $[0,\ln 2)$.Finally, we show by an explicit example, using Bratteli diagrams, that Toeplitz flows are not preserved under Kakutani equivalence (in fact, under inducing)—contrasting what is the case for substitution minimal systems. In fact, the example we exhibit is an induced system of a 0–1 Toeplitz flow which is conjugate to the Chacon substitution system, thus it is prime, i.e. it has no non-trivial factors.The thrust of our paper is to demonstrate the relevance and usefulness of Bratteli–Vershik models and dimension group theory for the study of minimal symbolic systems. This is also exemplified in recent papers by Forrest and by Durand, Host and Skau, treating substitution minimal systems, and by papers by Boyle, Handelman and by Ormes.

Abstract Introduction: Despite novel International Myeloma Working Group (IMWG) criteria, Smoldering Myeloma (SMM) remains a heterogeneous disease for which correctly identifying patients that will eventually progress to myeloma (MM) is essential. The genetic and molecular factors that underlie disease progression are not well elucidated, therefore, we examined samples from SMM patients in order to identify molecular determinants of progression. Methods: CD138-sorted and control samples from 77 non-treated SMM patients according to IMWG 2014 underwent targeted sequencing and gene expression profiling (GEP). The median follow-up was 4.81 years (95% CI: 4.19-6.16). Targeted sequencing consisted of 140 genes and additional regions of interest for copy number, as well as tiling of the immunoglobulin and MYC loci for detection of translocations and was performed on a NextSeq500 using 75 bp paired end sequencing. Results were aligned to the hg19 genome and mutations, translocations and copy number were determined. Nonnegative matrix factorization (NMF) (NMF package in R) was used to identify mutation signatures. The median mean coverage was 365 (88-696) and 783 (161-1559) for translocations (Tx) and mutations respectively. We compared these samples to 199 newly diagnosed MM samples. Results: Significant differences in the frequencies of mutated genes were seen, including fewer NRAS, KRAS, FAM46C, LRRK2 and TP53 mutations and more PCLO and MAFB mutations than expected in comparison to MM (p<0.05). Regarding structural changes, there was no difference in the incidence of Tx (including those involving MAF and MAFB) but significantly fewer del(1p), del(12p) and del(14q) cases in SMM (p<0.05). There was no difference in the incidence of MYC translocations (19% of cases) and MYC rearrangements (23%). The 4-year progression rate was 25 percent. The presence of KRAS mutations (n=9) and del(6q) (n=11) were statistically associated with shorter progression free survival (PFS) [median 49m (26-∞) vs 147m (67.6-∞) and 26m (9.6-∞) vs 147m (80-∞) for KRAS and del(6q) respectively] and treatment free survival (TFS) [median 6m (9.6-∞) vs 19m (9.6-∞) and 9 m (13.4-∞) vs 16m (13.4-∞) for KRAS and del(6q) respectively]. MYC alterations and NF-κB alterations (BIRC2 and BIRC3 loss, TRAF2 and TRAF3 mutation or gain, CYLD loss, MAP3K14 mutations) did not influence progression. There were no double-hit patients in this cohort defined by bi-allelic-TP53 or ISS III with amp(1q). Ten percent of patients were identified as high-risk according to GEP4 risk-score. Pearson correlation was performed between patients that progressed (n=24) against those who did not (n=53) for genetic events with n≥6. Del(6q) [χ2=0.32, p=0.004], LRP1B [χ2=0.27, p=0.015] and KRAS mutations [χ2=0.28, p=0.01] were positively correlated to progression, but only del(6q) remained significant after Bonferroni adjustment. Of particular interest, we did not identify the APOBEC mutational signature in the t(14;16) SMM samples, which is heavily associated with a poor prognosis in t(14;16) MM (4/11 in MM and 0/5 in SMM). Discussion: As previously reported, copy number changes, Tx and mutations predate MM. The lower frequencies of copy number changes and mutations suggest an ongoing process whereby cells acquire successive events eventually leading to MM. KRAS and del(6q) were significant predictors of both PFS and TFS with hazard ratios of 2.8 and 3.71, respectively. We comprehensively analyzed both the NF-κB pathway mutations and copy number changes, that did not bear, unlike previous reports, any clear relationship to PFS. Although we are limited by the power of this analysis, this supports the idea that the NF-κB dependency preexists symptomatic myeloma and is present throughout disease stages. Further analysis of the NF-κB 11-gene signature expression are ongoing. This is the first broad analysis of both MYC rearrangements and Tx in SMM. Previous studies have focused on FISH analysis of IGH-MYC Tx that underestimate the extent of MYC rearrangements present. Finally, our data also shows that absence of an APOBEC signature in SMM may account for the rather indolent phenotype of MAF and MAFB Tx in comparison to MM. Conclusion: KRAS mutations as well as del(6q) were associated with shorter PFS and TFS in this dataset. The absence of APOBEC signature may explain part of the indolent phenotype of the MAF and MAFB translocation SMM patients. Disclosures Boyle: Gilead: Honoraria, Other: travel grants; Amgen: Honoraria, Other: travel grants; Celgene: Honoraria, Other: travel grants; Abbvie: Honoraria; Takeda: Consultancy, Honoraria; La Fondation de Frace: Research Funding; Janssen: Honoraria, Other: travel grants. Facon:Karyopharm: Membership on an entity's Board of Directors or advisory committees; Celgene: Membership on an entity's Board of Directors or advisory committees, Speakers Bureau; Janssen: Membership on an entity's Board of Directors or advisory committees, Speakers Bureau; Amgen: Membership on an entity's Board of Directors or advisory committees; Amgen: Membership on an entity's Board of Directors or advisory committees; Takeda: Membership on an entity's Board of Directors or advisory committees, Speakers Bureau; Takeda: Membership on an entity's Board of Directors or advisory committees, Speakers Bureau; Sanofi: Membership on an entity's Board of Directors or advisory committees; Oncopeptides: Membership on an entity's Board of Directors or advisory committees; Oncopeptides: Membership on an entity's Board of Directors or advisory committees; Karyopharm: Membership on an entity's Board of Directors or advisory committees; Sanofi: Membership on an entity's Board of Directors or advisory committees. Dumontet:Janssen: Honoraria; Merck: Consultancy, Membership on an entity's Board of Directors or advisory committees; Roche: Research Funding; Sanofi: Honoraria. Morgan:Bristol-Myers Squibb: Consultancy, Honoraria; Takeda: Consultancy, Honoraria; Celgene: Consultancy, Honoraria, Research Funding; Janssen: Research Funding. Davies:Abbvie: Consultancy; MMRF: Honoraria; Celgene: Consultancy, Honoraria, Membership on an entity's Board of Directors or advisory committees; TRM Oncology: Honoraria; Takeda: Consultancy, Membership on an entity's Board of Directors or advisory committees; Amgen: Consultancy, Membership on an entity's Board of Directors or advisory committees; ASH: Honoraria; Janssen: Consultancy, Honoraria.

Abstract Introduction: Invasive bone marrow sampling is used in multiple myeloma (MM) diagnosis to obtain biological material, which can then be used to generate prognostically important genetic features. Physically sampling the bone marrow can be uncomfortable for the patient. Also, spatial heterogeneity is a common feature in MM, with multiple focal lesions (FLs) occurring throughout the skeleton, meaning a single sample from the iliac crest may be insufficient to capture intrapatient heterogeneity. An alternative strategy is to extract data directly from diagnostic positron emission tomography-computed tomography (PET-CT) scans of patients. These radiomic features can be used as a proxy from which to infer molecular and clinical phenotypes. Compared to physical sampling, there are several advantages, including rapid analysis, minimalizing patient discomfort, reduced cost and widespread availability of the required scanning equipment in hospitals. Methods: A series of 439 newly diagnosed MM patients were selected, all of which had diagnostic PET-CT scans. A radiologist examined these data and identified focal lesions in the axial skeleton of 136/439 (31%) patients. Focal lesions were manually segmented from the PET portion of the original DICOM data using a density-based thresholding method in 3DSlicer version 4.9.0. Pyradiomics version 1.3 was used to resample the voxels in the PET data to 4x4x4 mm and extract radiomic features from each FL. A combination of 10 filters and 7 feature classes were used and a total of 1679 radiomic features were generated per lesion. Radiomic features were a mixture of first order characteristics such as maximum intensity, shape characteristics and gray level matrix features. Hierarchical clustering was applied to the radiomic features, using the Pearson correlation between features as the distance metric and Ward's method for clustering. Next generation sequencing (NGS) data was available for samples from 58/136 (43%) patients with FLs in whole genome (WGS), whole exome (WES) or targeted panel (TP) modalities. The NGS data was used to detect translocations, copy number aberrations and somatic mutations. Results: There were 789 FLs identified in 136 patients, with each patient containing an average of 5.8 FLs. The median FL volume was 4350 mm3, with a median maximum 3D diameter of 29 mm. Hierarchical clustering across all FLs and radiomic features separated the FLs into 5 discrete clusters associated with various clinical and molecular features. However, clustering appeared to be independent of other classification systems based on gene expression profiling (GEP), including the UAMS classification system and GEP70 risk score. Clustering was also independent of the International Staging System (ISS) status suggesting that it can add additional prognostic information. Clusters also appeared to be independent of somatic mutations in genes previously reported as significantly mutated in MM. Patients commonly had FLs occurring in multiple clusters, suggesting that this method takes into account the heterogeneity between lesions in the same patient. Larger FLs were grouped primarily into two clusters consistent with them having distinct features that can be recognized by this approach. Looking across the different clusters distinct differences in clinical outcome were seen between the groups, with significant differences in both PFS (p=0.007) and overall survival (p=0.005), with worse prognosis being led by a cluster of smaller lesions. Conclusions: Radiomics provides a novel method to extract potentially important data from PET-CT scans which can define individual clusters that have different clinical, molecular and prognostic features. This can provide a novel non-invasive method to assess FLs based on both their physical and radiomic characteristics. Larger study sizes will be needed to confirm the differences in outcomes seen between groups. Disclosures Boyle: Celgene: Honoraria, Other: travel grants; Janssen: Honoraria, Other: travel grants; La Fondation de Frace: Research Funding; Abbvie: Honoraria; Amgen: Honoraria, Other: travel grants; Gilead: Honoraria, Other: travel grants; Takeda: Consultancy, Honoraria. Morgan:Bristol-Myers Squibb: Consultancy, Honoraria; Janssen: Research Funding; Takeda: Consultancy, Honoraria; Celgene: Consultancy, Honoraria, Research Funding. Davies:TRM Oncology: Honoraria; MMRF: Honoraria; Abbvie: Consultancy; Takeda: Consultancy, Membership on an entity's Board of Directors or advisory committees; Janssen: Consultancy, Honoraria; Amgen: Consultancy, Membership on an entity's Board of Directors or advisory committees; Celgene: Consultancy, Honoraria, Membership on an entity's Board of Directors or advisory committees; ASH: Honoraria.

Background:The “Targeting Immune Responses for Prevention of RA” (TIP-RA) collaboration studies individuals at high risk for developing RA because of serum anti-citrullinated protein antibody positivity in absence of arthritis, and is focused on defining how they transition from at-risk to classifiable disease. One potential mechanism is through alterations in epigenetics patterns in adaptive immune cells.Objectives:Previous studies showed that DNA methylation patterns of early RA (ERA) synoviocytes differ from long-standing RA, suggesting that abnormal methylation occurs early in synovium and evolves over time. To extend these observations, we performed a cross-sectional analysis in TIP-RA of DNA methylation signatures in peripheral blood cells in ERA, at-risk anti-CCP3+ individuals and demographically matched CCP- controls.Methods:Genomic DNA was isolated from two independent cohorts of CCP- (cohorts 1 and 2, respectively: B cell: n = 17/34; memory T cell: n = 21/34; and naïve T cell: n = 21/33), CCP3+ (B cell: n = 18/37; memory T cell: n = 20/36; and naïve T cell: n = 20/35), and CCP3+ ERA (B cell: n = 4/18; memory T cell: n = 5/18; and naïve T cell: n = 5/18) after separating PBMCs using antibodies and magnetic beads. Methylation was measured by Illumina Infinium MethylationEPIC chip. Differentially methylated loci (DMLs) were identified using Welch’s t-test and mapped to gene promoter regions to define DM genes (DMGs). Principal component analysis (PCA) was used to represent relationship among groups. Pathway analysis was applied by Reactome.Results:For the initial cohort, 1494, 1097 and 1330 DMLs were identified among CCP+, CCP- and ERA in B cells, memory T cells and naïve T cells, respectively. For the confirmatory cohort, 523, 793 and 548 DMLs were found in corresponding cell populations. The DML overlap between the 2 cohorts was highly significant (p= 2.48E-77). The DMLs were combined for both groups and corresponded to 411, 412, and 351 DMGs in B cells, memory T cells and naïve T cells. Of these, we found 246, 198 and 195 DMGs between CCP3+ and ERA in each peripheral blood cell population, respectively. PCA showed separation of CCP+, CCP- and ERA in each of the three blood cell types by DMLs (Fig. 1). DMGs were mapped to biological pathways to identify DM pathways. Although most were not significant, there were several highly significant differences comparing CCP+, ERA and CCP- in memory T cells involving pathways, including “Interferon gamma signaling” (FDR 7.48E-14), “PD-1 signaling” (FDR 8.71E-10), “Translocation of ZAP-70 to Immunological synapse” (FDR 4.75E-10), and “Phosphorylation of CD3 and TCR zeta chains” (FDR 8.71E-10).Figure 1.PCA shows the separation of CCP+, CCP- and ERA patients in memory T cells in confirmatory cohort.Conclusion:We identified reproducible methylation signatures of CCP-, CCP+, and ERA in peripheral blood B cells, memory T cells and naïve T cells in initial and confirmatory cohorts. The methylome of ERA also demonstrated a distinctive pattern from CCP+, indicating that progression to RA is accompanied by epigenetic remodeling, especially in T cell signaling and interferon responses. These signatures identify critical pathways in CCP positivity and classifiable RA and could provide the basis of novel interventions to prevent disease.Disclosure of Interests:Rizi Ai: None declared, David Boyle: None declared, Deepa Hammaker: None declared, Kevin Deane Grant/research support from: Janssen, Consultant of: Inova, ThermoFisher, Janseen, BMS and Microdrop, V. Michael Holers Grant/research support from: Janssen, Celgene, and BMS, Andre Matti: None declared, William Robinson: None declared, Jane Buckner Grant/research support from: Bristol-Myers Squibb, Janssen, Navin Rao Shareholder of: Janssen Pharmaceuticals, Employee of: Janssen Pharmaceuticals, Frederic Baribaud Shareholder of: Janssen Research & Development, LLC, Employee of: Janssen Research & Development, LLC, Alyssa Johnsen Employee of: Janssen, Sunil Nagpal Shareholder of: Janssen Pharmaceuticals, Employee of: Janssen Pharmaceuticals, Wei Wang: None declared, Gary Firestein Grant/research support from: Lilly, Janssen, Abbvie

Abstract Introduction Hyperdiploidy (HRD) comprises the largest pathogenetic subgroup of myeloma. However, its clinical and molecular characterisation is incomplete. Here, we investigate HRD using a novel high-throughput molecular analysis method (MyMaP - Myeloma MLPA and translocation PCR; Kaiser MF et al., Leukemia 2013; Boyle EM et al., Gen Chrom Canc 2015) in a large cohort of 1,036 patients from the UK NCRI Myeloma XI trial. Materials, Methods and Patients Copy number changes, including gain of chromosomes 5, 9 and 15, as well as translocation status were assayed for 1,036 patients enrolled in the UK NCRI Myeloma XI (NCT01554852) trial using CD138+ selected bone marrow myeloma cells taken at diagnosis. HRD was defined by triploidy of at least 2 of analysed chromosomes 5, 9 or 15. Analysis was performed on standard laboratory equipment with MyMaP, a combination of TC-classification based multiplex qRT-PCR and multiplex ligation-dependent probe amplification (MLPA; MRC Holland). The parallel assessment of multiple loci with copy number alteration (CNA) by MLPA allowed unbiased association studies using a Bayesian approach. Semi-quantitative gene expression data for CCND1 and CCND2 was generated as part of the multiplexed qRT-PCR analysis. Median follow up for the analysis was 24 months. Results Of the 1,036 analysed patients, 475 (46%) were HRD. Of these, 325 (68%) had gain(11q25), 141 (29.7%) gain(1q), 43 (9.1%) del(1p32) and 36 (7.5%) del(17p). Gain(11q25) was significantly associated with HRD (Bayes Factor BF01<0.05) in the entire group of 1,036 cases and occurred in only 17% of non-HRD cases, but frequencies of the other copy number alterations (CNA) were similar to entire group. Although gain(1q) was negatively correlated with gain(11q25) within the HRD group (Corr-0.21, BF=0.0004), the two lesions co-occurred in 73 (15.4%) cases. Analysis of other CNA revealed that del(13q) was significantly less frequent (25%) in HRD cases than in non-HRD (56%) cases (BF<0.0001). Interestingly, del(13q) within HRD was highly associated with gain(1q) (BF<0.0001) and negatively correlated with gain(11q25) (BF<0.0001). Thus, CNA status can help discriminate three distinct molecular subgroups of HRD: gain(11q25), gain(11q25)+gain(1q), gain(1q)[+/-del(13q)]. HRD cases were classified as D1, D2 or D1+D2 according to the TC classification based on qPCR CCND1 and CCND2 expression values and expression was correlated with copy number status. An association of the D1 subtype with gain(11q25) and of D2 with gain(1q) was confirmed. CCND1 expression was significantly (P <0.001) higher in cases with gain(11q) [Mean Relative Quantitative (RQ) value 5,466] than in cases with gain(1q) [Mean RQ value 721]. In contrast, CCND2 expression values were significantly higher in cases with gain(1q) [Mean RQ 8,723] than in cases with gain(11q) [mean RQ 1,087] (P <0.001). Co-occurrence of gain(11q) and gain(1q) was associated with intermediate values with CCND1 mean RQ 5,090 and CCND2 mean RQ 2,776, reminiscent of the D1+D2 subtype. HRD was associated with favourable outcome when compared to non-HRD cases with median PFS 28.8 vs. 21.7 months (P <0.0001) and 24-months OS of 83% vs. 77% (median not reached), respectively. However, cases with t(11;14) had a median PFS of 27.0 months and 24-month OS of 80%, combarable to outcome of the HRD group. Within HRD cases, gain(1q) was associated with shorter PFS (P =0.02) and OS (P =0.009), associating the D2 group with inferior outcome. Presence of del(1p32) was associated with inferior PFS (P =0.01) and OS (P =0.0007) in the HRD subgroup and del(17p) was associated with inferior OS (P =0.04) with a trend for PFS. HRD cases with presence of any of the risk factors gain(1q), del(1p32) or del(17p) in comparison to those without had a median PFS of 25.1 vs 35.1 months (P =0.0001) and 24-month OS of 73.8% vs 89.0% (P <0.0001). Conclusion We describe in a large trial cohort an association between gain(11q25) and the D1 hyperdiploid subtype as well as gain(1q) and the D2 subtype, a finding that has so far only been inferred by gene expression array data in the original TC classification. We also find an association with adverse outcome for the D2/gain(1q) subtype. Our findings demonstrate that the novel molecular approach MyMaP allows precise molecular sub-classification of HRD myeloma. Disclosures Kaiser: BristolMyerSquibb: Consultancy; Chugai: Consultancy; Janssen: Honoraria; Amgen: Consultancy, Honoraria; Celgene: Consultancy, Honoraria, Research Funding. Pawlyn:Celgene: Honoraria, Other: Travel support; The Institute of Cancer Research: Employment. Jones:Celgene: Other: Travel support, Research Funding. Savola:MRC Holland: Employment. Owen:Celgene: Honoraria, Research Funding; Janssen: Honoraria. Cook:Takeda Oncology: Consultancy, Research Funding, Speakers Bureau; Amgen: Consultancy, Speakers Bureau; Sanofi: Consultancy, Speakers Bureau; BMS: Consultancy; Celgene: Consultancy, Research Funding, Speakers Bureau; Janssen: Consultancy, Research Funding, Speakers Bureau. Gregory:Janssen: Honoraria; Celgene: Honoraria. Davies:Onyx-Amgen: Honoraria; Celgene: Honoraria; University of Arkansas for Medical Sciences: Employment; Takeda-Milenium: Honoraria. Jackson:Amgen: Honoraria; Takeda: Honoraria; Celgene: Honoraria. Morgan:Celgene: Honoraria, Membership on an entity's Board of Directors or advisory committees, Research Funding; Weisman Institute: Honoraria; Bristol Myers Squibb: Honoraria, Membership on an entity's Board of Directors or advisory committees; Takeda-Millennium: Honoraria, Membership on an entity's Board of Directors or advisory committees; University of Arkansas for Medical Sciences: Employment; CancerNet: Honoraria; MMRF: Honoraria.

Background: Structural variants are key recurrent molecular features of myeloma (MM) with two types of complex rearrangement, chromoplexy and chromothripsis, having been described recently. The contribution of these to MM prognosis, rapid changes in clinical behavior and punctuated evolution is currently unknown as is the mechanism by which they deregulate gene function. Methods: We analyzed two sets of newly diagnosed MM data: 85 cases with phased whole genome sequencing; and 812 cases from CoMMpass where long-insert whole-genome sequencing was available. Patient derived xenografts from five MM cases were used to generate epigenetic maps for the histone marks, BRD4, MED1, H3K27Ac, H3K4me1, H3K4me3, H3K9me3, H3K36me3 and H3K27me3. Results: In the 10X data the median number of structural events per case was 25 (range 1 - 182); with a median of 14 intra-chromosomal events (range 1 - 179; P<0.001) and 7 inter-chromosomal events (range 0 - 29). Structural events were seen most frequently on chromosomes 14 (64%), 8 (53%), 1 (44%) and 6 (42%). Complex chromosomal rearrangements involving 3 or more chromosomal sites were seen in 46%, 4 or more sites in 20%, 5 or more in 10% and 6 or more in 5% of samples. There were significantly more structural events in the t(4;14) subgroup compared to the t(11;14) subgroup. Significantly more events were also seen in the bi-allelically inactivated TP53 cases. Using an elbow test defined cutoff, we identified cases with high structural variant load in 10% of cases. Chromoplexy called by "Chainfinder" was seen in 18% of cases. Chromothripsis called by "Shatterseek" was seen in 9% of cases. Cases with a high structural load alone were not associated with an adverse outcome whereas cases with chromoplexy or chromothripsis were associated with adverse PFS and OS, p=0.001. A new high-risk subgroup comprising approximately 5% of cases was identified with chromoplexy, chromothripsis and a high structural load. Gene set enrichment analysis of cases with chromoplexy and chromothripsis showed an excess of MYC, E2F and G2M targets, and a reduction in RAS signaling. Interferon a and g responses, an excess of TP53 and reduction in TRAF3 mutations was associated predominantly with chromothripsis. How chromoplexy and chromothripsis are tolerated by the cell is unknown and the association with the cGAS/STING response is further being explored. To determine how chromoplexy may deregulate multiple genes we identified the full spectrum of structural variants to the immunoglobulin (Ig) and non-Ig loci. A range of genes are deregulated by Ig loci including MAP3K14 at a frequency of 2% confirming the importance of non-canonical NFkB signaling. A novel intra-chromosomal rearrangement to ZFP36L1 was upregulated in 10% of cases but was not prognostic. Gene upregulation by non-Ig super enhancers is frequent and targets include PAX5, GLI3, CD40, NFKB1, MAP3K14, LRRC37A, LIPG, PHLDA3, ZNF267, CENPF, SLC44A2, MIER1, SOX30, TMEM258, PPIL1, and BUB3. The topologically associating domain (TADs) containing super enhancers bringing about gene deregulation include TXNDC5, FOXO3, FCHSD2, SP2, FAM46C, CACNA1C, TLCD2 and PIK3C2G. These super enhancers frequently contain important MM genes, the coding sequence of which are disrupted by the rearrangement and could contribute to the clinical phenotype. Accurately reconstructing the structure of the complex rearrangements will allow us to identify the mechanism of gene deregulation and to distinguish between either gene stacking, receptor stacking or both. Conclusions: Upregulation of gene expression by super enhancer rearrangement is a major mechanism of gene deregulation in MM and complex structural events contribute significantly to adverse prognosis by a range of mechanisms as well as simple gene overexpression. Disclosures Boyle: Amgen, Abbvie, Janssen, Takeda, Celgene Corporation: Honoraria; Amgen, Janssen, Takeda, Celgene Corporation: Other: Travel expenses. Walker:Celgene: Research Funding. Thakurta:Celgene: Employment, Equity Ownership. Flynt:Celgene Corporation: Employment, Equity Ownership. Davies:Amgen, Celgene, Janssen, Oncopeptides, Roche, Takeda: Membership on an entity's Board of Directors or advisory committees, Other: Consultant/Advisor; Janssen, Celgene: Other: Research Grant, Research Funding. Morgan:Amgen, Roche, Abbvie, Takeda, Celgene, Janssen: Honoraria, Membership on an entity's Board of Directors or advisory committees; Celgene: Other: research grant, Research Funding.

Abstract Introduction Identifying molecular high risk myeloma remains a diagnostic challenge. We previously reported co-segregation of >1 adverse lesion [t(4;14), t(14;16), t(14;20), gain(1q), del(17p)] by iFISH to specifically characterise a group of high risk patients (Boyd et al., Leukemia 2012). However, implementation of this approach is difficult using FISH because of its technical limitations. We recently developed and validated a novel high-throughput all-molecular testing strategy against FISH (MyMaP- Myeloma MLPA and translocation PCR; Kaiser MF et al., Leukemia 2013; Boyle EM et al., Gen Chrom Canc 2015). Here, we molecularly characterised 1,036 patients from the NCRI Myeloma XI trial using MyMaP and validated the co-segregation approach. Materials, Methods and Patients Recurrent translocations and copy number changes were assayed for 1,036 patients enrolled in the NCRI Myeloma XI (NCT01554852) trial using CD138+ selected bone marrow myeloma cells taken at diagnosis. The trial included an intensive therapy arm for younger and fitter and a non-intense treatment arm for elderly and frail patients. Analysis was performed using MyMaP, which comprises TC-classification based multiplex qRT-PCR and multiplex ligation-dependent probe amplification (MLPA; MRC Holland). Median follow up for the analysis was 24 months. Results Adverse translocations [t(4;14), t(14;16), t(14;20)] were present in 18.2% of cases, del(17p) in 9.3%, gain(1q) in 34.5% and del(1p32) in 9.4% of cases. All adverse lesions were associated with significantly shorter PFS and OS by univariate analysis (P <0.05 for all). Of the 1,036 analysed cases, 13.5% carried >1 adverse lesion, 33.9% had one isolated adverse lesion and 52.6% had no adverse lesion. Presence of >1, 1 or no adverse lesion was associated with a median PFS of 17.0, 23.9 and 30.6 months (P =3.0x10-9) and OS at 24 months of 67.9%, 75.0% and 86.0% (P =1.8x10-7), respectively. Del(1p) was associated with shorter PFS and OS for the intensive, but not for the non-intensive therapy arm and was independent of the co-segregation model by multivariate analysis regarding OS (P =0.006). We thus included del(1p) as an additional adverse lesion in the model for younger patients. The groups with >1 (19.4% of cases), 1 (31.1%) and no adverse lesions (49.5%) were characterised by median PFS of 19.4, 29.4 and 39.1 months (P =1.2x10-10) and median 24-months survival of 73.8%, 86.4% and 91.5% (P =1.4x10-6), respectively. Hazard Ratio for >1 adverse lesion was 3.0 (95% CI 2.1-4.1) for PFS and 3.8 (95% CI 2.2-6.5) for OS. By multivariate analysis, co-segregation of adverse lesions was independent of ISS for PFS/OS in the entire group of 1,036 cases and in the intensive treatment arm. We integrated adverse lesions and ISS into a combined model defining High Risk (>1 adv les + ISS 2 or 3; 1 adv les + ISS 3) and Low Risk (no adv les + ISS 1 or 2; 1 adv les + ISS 1) and the remainder as Intermediate Risk. The High Risk, Intermediate Risk and Low Risk groups of the total cohort included 11.2%, 41.2% and 41.6% of cases with median PFS of 15.8, 19.8 and 35.2 months (P <2.2x10-16) and median OS at 24 months of 62.9%, 73.7%, and 90.7% (P =4.0x10-14), respectively. Integration of ISS into the model for younger patients resulted in highly specific identification of a High Risk group (15.6% of cases) with HR 3.8 (CI 2.6-5.4) for PFS and 6.2 (CI 3.3-11.6) for OS. Conclusions Co-segregation analysis of adverse genetic lesions is a specific molecular risk stratification tool which has now been validated in two large independent trials including a real-world population of all age groups (UK MRC Myeloma IX; NCRI Myeloma XI; total 1,905 patients). MyMaP is a validated all-molecular analysis approach that makes the otherwise technically challenging assessment of multiple genetic regions by FISH accessible using standard laboratory equipment without bioinformatics requirements. Disclosures Kaiser: BristolMyerSquibb: Consultancy; Chugai: Consultancy; Janssen: Honoraria; Celgene: Consultancy, Honoraria, Research Funding; Amgen: Consultancy, Honoraria. Pawlyn:Celgene: Honoraria, Other: Travel support; The Institute of Cancer Research: Employment. Jones:Celgene: Other: Travel support, Research Funding. Savola:MRC Holland: Employment. Owen:Celgene: Honoraria, Research Funding; Janssen: Honoraria. Cook:Celgene: Consultancy, Research Funding, Speakers Bureau; BMS: Consultancy; Sanofi: Consultancy, Speakers Bureau; Amgen: Consultancy, Speakers Bureau; Takeda Oncology: Consultancy, Research Funding, Speakers Bureau; Janssen: Consultancy, Research Funding, Speakers Bureau. Gregory:Celgene: Honoraria; Janssen: Honoraria. Davies:Takeda-Milenium: Honoraria; Onyx-Amgen: Honoraria; Celgene: Honoraria; University of Arkansas for Medical Sciences: Employment. Jackson:Celgene: Honoraria; Takeda: Honoraria; Amgen: Honoraria. Morgan:Weisman Institute: Honoraria; Takeda-Millennium: Honoraria, Membership on an entity's Board of Directors or advisory committees; Celgene: Honoraria, Membership on an entity's Board of Directors or advisory committees, Research Funding; Bristol Myers Squibb: Honoraria, Membership on an entity's Board of Directors or advisory committees; University of Arkansas for Medical Sciences: Employment; CancerNet: Honoraria; MMRF: Honoraria.

Abstract Introduction: Clustering of gene expression signatures at diagnosis has identified a number of distinct disease groups that correlate with outcome in multiple myeloma (MM). Some of these are defined by an etiologic genetic event whereas others, such as the proliferation cluster (PR) and GEP70 risk relate to acquired clinical behaviors regardless of the underlying background. The PR cluster has a number of important features, including markers of proliferation, and has been associated with an adverse outcome. This logic led us to study how gene expression patterns change over time with the aim of gaining insight into acquired features that could be targeted therapeutically or be used to predict outcome. Methods: We followed 784 newly diagnosed MM patients from the Total Therapy trials over a median of 9.5 years for whom repeated GEP of CD138+ plasma cells using Affymetrix U133 Plus 2.0 plus arrays were obtained. Raw data were MAS5 normalized and GEP70-based high-risk (HR) scores, translocation classification (TC) and molecular cluster classification were derived, as previously reported. Results: At diagnosis, 85.9% percent of patients (666/784) were identified as low-risk (LR). Among them, 23.1% (154/666) went on to develop HR status (defined by a GEP70 score > 0.66) at least once after initial diagnosis. Among the non-PR cases, 28.5% (193/677) were seen to develop a PR phenotype at some point during follow-up. Similarly, among the PR patients (n=107), we observed that 43.1% (25/58) identified as LR by GEP70 at presentation eventually develop HR status at least once during follow-up. We further analyzed 147 patients with paired diagnosis and relapse samples. Seventeen percent of patients (25/147) were PR at diagnosis. Most patients were from favorable TC prognostic groups [80% D1-D2, 8% t(11;14), 8% t(4;14) and 4% t(14;20)]. Seventy-six percent of PR patients remained PR at relapse (19/25) whereas 23% switched cluster in accordance to their translocation group. Fifteen percent of patients (22/147) became PR at relapse. They originated from four clusters and three TC groups [77% from the D1-D2, 14% t(4;14) and 9% from the t(11;14)]. Overall-survival from the time of relapse was inferior for patients categorized as PR at relapse compared to other subgroups (p< 0.0001); among PR patients at relapse, there was no difference in outcome between patients classified as PR or non-PR at diagnosis (p= 0.74). When looking at GEP70 defined risk scores, the incidence of HR status rose from 23% to 39% between diagnosis and relapse with a significant increase in mean GEP70 scores using paired t-test (p<0.0001). Patients identified as HR by GEP70 at relapse had an inferior post-relapse outcome compared to patients identified as LR (p< 0.0001); there was no difference in the outcome of patients identified as HR at relapse depending on their risk status at diagnosis (p = 0.10). Discussion: Following the introduction of therapeutic regimens aimed at maximizing response, long term survival in MM has improved. This also led to an apparent increase in the development of more aggressive disease patterns at relapse including extra-medullary disease and plasma cell leukemia. Here we show, that HR features both in terms of PR and GEP70 risk status, develop as a variable over time. At relapse, most acquired HR cases originate from standard-risk presentation cases, suggesting selective pressure for HR features. Moreover, we show that the detection of such behaviors is associated with an adverse outcome from the time of relapse. These data also suggest that repeating GEP during follow-up adds precision to better comprehend individual risk and may help identify patient specific therapeutic strategies. Indeed, understanding how these patterns develop, which genes are implicated, and their impact on the immune microenvironment should allow us to effectively utilize a wide array of treatment approaches ranging from immune-therapies to novel cell-cycle targeting agents to specifically address this type of aggressive behavior. Conclusion: The acquisition of high risk patterns captured by GEP70 risk and PR status is an ongoing process from initial diagnosis. Such high risk prognostic features have an adverse outcome from the time of development. Repeating GEP during follow-up may therefore help better predict outcome and identify patient specific therapeutic strategies. Disclosures Boyle: Janssen: Honoraria, Other: travel grants; Takeda: Consultancy, Honoraria; Gilead: Honoraria, Other: travel grants; Abbvie: Honoraria; Celgene: Honoraria, Other: travel grants; La Fondation de Frace: Research Funding; Amgen: Honoraria, Other: travel grants. Dumontet:Janssen: Honoraria; Roche: Research Funding; Merck: Consultancy, Membership on an entity's Board of Directors or advisory committees; Sanofi: Honoraria. Facon:Celgene: Honoraria, Research Funding; Janssen: Honoraria, Research Funding. Barlogie:Celgene: Consultancy, Research Funding; Multiple Myeloma Research Foundation: Other: travel stipend; European School of Haematology- International Conference on Multiple Myeloma: Other: travel stipend; Dana Farber Cancer Institute: Other: travel stipend; Millenium: Consultancy, Research Funding; ComtecMed- World Congress on Controversies in Hematology: Other: travel stipend; Myeloma Health, LLC: Patents & Royalties: : Co-inventor of patents and patent applications related to use of GEP in cancer medicine licensed to Myeloma Health, LLC; International Workshop on Waldenström's Macroglobulinemia: Other: travel stipend. Davies:TRM Oncology: Honoraria; Janssen: Consultancy, Honoraria; ASH: Honoraria; Amgen: Consultancy, Membership on an entity's Board of Directors or advisory committees; Abbvie: Consultancy; Takeda: Consultancy, Membership on an entity's Board of Directors or advisory committees; MMRF: Honoraria; Celgene: Consultancy, Honoraria, Membership on an entity's Board of Directors or advisory committees. Morgan:Celgene: Consultancy, Honoraria, Research Funding; Takeda: Consultancy, Honoraria; Janssen: Research Funding; Bristol-Myers Squibb: Consultancy, Honoraria.

AbstractThis paper deals with the mathematical modeling of atherosclerosis based on a novel hypothesis proposed by a surgeon, Prof. Dr. Axel Haverich (Circulation 135(3):205–207, 2017). Atherosclerosis is referred as the thickening of the artery walls. Currently, there are two schools of thoughts for explaining the root of such phenomenon: thickening due to substance deposition and thickening as a result of inflammatory overgrowth. The hypothesis favored here is the second paradigm stating that the atherosclerosis is nothing else than the inflammatory response of of the wall tissues as a result of disruption in wall nourishment. It is known that a network of capillaries called vasa vasorum (VV) accounts for the nourishment of the wall in addition to the natural diffusion of nutrient from the blood passing through the lumen. Disruption of nutrient flow to the wall tissues may take place due to the occlusion of vasa vasorums with viruses, bacteria and very fine dust particles such as air pollutants referred to as PM 2.5. They can enter the body through the respiratory system at the first place and then reach the circulatory system. Hence in the new hypothesis, the root of atherosclerotic vessel is perceived as the malfunction of microvessels that nourish the vessel. A large number of clinical observation support this hypothesis. Recently and highly related to this work, and after the COVID-19 pandemic, one of the most prevalent disease in the lungs are attributed to the atherosclerotic pulmonary arteries, see Boyle and Haverich (Eur J Cardio Thorac Surg 58(6):1109–1110, 2020). In this work, a general framework is developed based on a multiphysics mathematical model to capture the wall deformation, nutrient availability and the inflammatory response. For the mechanical response an anisotropic constitutive relation is invoked in order to account for the presence of collagen fibers in the artery wall. A diffusion–reaction equation governs the transport of the nutrient within the wall. The inflammation (overgrowth) is described using a phase-field type equation with a double well potential which captures a sharp interface between two regions of the tissues, namely the healthy and the overgrowing part. The kinematics of the growth is treated by classical multiplicative decomposition of the gradient deformation. The inflammation is represented by means of a phase-field variable. A novel driving mechanism for the phase field is proposed for modeling the progression of the pathology. The model is 3D and fully based on the continuum description of the problem. The numerical implementation is carried out using FEM. Predictions of the model are compared with the clinical observations. The versatility and applicability of the model and the numerical tool allow.

Over a period of ten years Paul Ewing documented the life of his family on film – initially using Super 8 film and then converting to VHS with the advent of the new technology. Through the lens of home movies, autoethnography and memory I discuss his approach to amateur image making and its lasting legacy. Home movies have been the driving force behind a number of autobiographical documentaries such as Tarnation, Video Fool for Love and Stories We Tell. Here I take an auto ethnographical look at the films my own father made over a ten year period, prior to my parents divorce, and examine their impact on my own life and look to see if there is any value to them outside of my own personal investment. “Autoethnography is predicated on the ability to invite readers into the lived experience of the presumed “Other” and to experience it viscerally” (Boylorn and Orbe 15). It is a research method that connects “the autobiographical and personal to the cultural, social and political” (Ellis xix). Autoethnography involves the turning of the ethnographic gaze inward on the self (Denzin 227). Autoethnographers use their personal experience as primary data reflexively to bend back on self and look more deeply at self-other interactions.Paul Francis Ewing was born in 1947 in Redhill in the United Kingdom. Inez Anne Taveira was born eight years previously in another part of the world entirely, Taiping in Malaysia or Malaya as it was known then. She immigrated to the UK when she was 21 to study acting and later teaching. She married Paul in 1970 and by 1976 they had two children – my brother Brendan and myself. Around 1978 Paul, or Dad, started to film the family. He wanted to “capture the moment. Like writing a diary”. Patricia Zimmerman writes, “Amateur film represents psychic tracings of diaries and dreams. The family, dreams, and nightmares create new hybrids, new discourses” (276). In the beginning of the last century Pierre Janet already noted that: "certain happenings ... leave indelible and distressing memories – memories to which the sufferer continually returns, and by which he is tormented by day and by night.” Janet, postulated that intense emotional reactions make events traumatic by interfering with the integration of the experience into existing memory schemes. Intense emotions, Janet thought, cause memories of particular events to be dissociated from consciousness, and to be stored, instead, as visceral sensations (anxiety and panic), or as visual images (nightmares and flashbacks). Schachtel defined it as: “Memory as a function of the living personality can be understood as a capacity for the organization and reconstruction of past experiences and impressions in the service of present needs, fears, and interests” (284).The images captured by Paul Ewing are part of both my consciousness and unconsciousness. I have revisited them on numerous occasions for varying reasons. Amateur film’s otherness requires analysis of active relationships between maker and subject (Zimmerman 277). When I questioned Paul in regards to this research, he suggested that screening the films was very important to him. “Mum and I enjoyed them and then later the grand parents. Also you and Bren.” I found it more than interesting that he placed my brother and myself last in the list of those who enjoyed the screenings. As a student of film I have looked for the stories within these images, looking to understand whom the man behind the lens was: potentially who the men behind the lenses have been. Who was the man from my/our memories, who was the boy, who were the boys who became the man/men we are? Van der Kolk and Fisler suggest that ‘dissociation refers to a compartmentalization of experience: elements of the experience are not integrated into a unitary whole, but are stored in memory as isolated fragments consisting of sensory perceptions or affective states” (510). Karen L. Ishizuka insists, “Within home movies ... lie hidden histories of the world.” In this case, perhaps only hidden histories of myself. Given a consistent dissociative reaction to stressful situations my honest agenda in watching and re-watching my father’s home cinema may indeed be to attempt to decode what Janet claimed people experience when intense emotions, memories cannot be transformed into a neutral narrative: a person is “unable to make the recital which we call narrative memory, and yet he remains confronted by the difficult situation” (660). This results in a phobia of memory that prevents the integration of traumatic events and splits off the traumatic memories from ordinary consciousness. Piaget claimed that dissociation occurs when an active failure of semantic memory leads to the organization of memory on somatosensory or iconic levels (201). It cannot be coincidence that these descriptors sound familiar to any student or practitioner of cinema. We, the automaton: a moving mechanical device made in imitation of a human being.“The limbic system is thought to be the part of the central nervous system that maintains and guides the emotions and behavior necessary for self-preservation and survival of the species, and that is critically involved in the storage and retrieval of memory” (Van der Kolk 10). Of all areas in the central nervous system, the amygdala is most clearly implicated in the evaluation of the emotional meaning of incoming stimuli. It is thought to integrate internal representations of the external world in the form of memory images with emotional experiences associated with those memories (Calvin). In a series of experiments, J LeDoux utilized repeated electrical stimulation of the amygdala to produce conditioned fear responses. He found that cortical lesions prevent their extinction. This led him to conclude that, once formed, the subcortical traces of the conditioned fear response are indelible, and that "emotional memory may be forever". Paul filmed us for approximately eight years. First using the Super 8 format and later straight onto VHS using a cumbersome, oversized camera that fed into a VHS deck carried over the shoulder in a plastic satchel. Zimmerman suggests that home movies graph the contradictions between the realities of family life bounded by class, race, and gender expectations and the fantasies of the nuclear family, and they also reveal the unfinished production of obedient subjects and histories (278). They create expectations that wrestle with the fragile nature of family. Paul wasn’t the only “cinematographer” in the family. The camera was often passed to Inez so that Paul’s presence in family occasions could be authenticated. Eventually both Brendan and myself were allowed moments of seeing the world through the black and white view finders. Perhaps those early cinematographic moments started me on the path to today. The picture as a model of reality. The “real” and the “performed” act is twofold in the home movie. Our many different roles exemplify the separation and interrelation of our public and private lives. The act of mimesis seems to signify “I exist” or, rather, “I represent myself here for immortality.” This imitation of ourselves is an authentic “copy” of the original, since actor and role are identical (Forgacs 52). Identical yet problematic: dissociated? Merilee Bennett’s 1987 film, A Song of Air, is a compilation film composed of home movies shot by Merilee’s father, Reverend Arnold Lucas Bennett, who regularly filmed his family with a Paillard Bolex 16mm camera between 1956 and 1983. I saw A Song of Air as an undergraduate and it has never left me. It did not occur to me until years later to work with my own family’s filmic archive but Bennett’s work is undoubtedly a key influence. The film invites two levels of reading: first, the level of the home movies made by the father; second, the analysis made by Merilee of her father’s home movies through her own reediting of the images and her omnipresent commentary in the form of a letter addressed to her father (Odin 256).No other types of films evidence as much direct address as the home movie. The family filmmaker’s camera functions first as a go-between and only secondly as a recording instrument. To film is to take part in a collective game in the family domain. These familial interactions are not always peaceful. In a personal letter, Merilee Bennett recounts one of these conflicts. “The shot of him [my father] talking directly into the camera with a tree and blue sky behind him was shot by me when I was 12 years old and he is actually telling me to stop, that it was enough now. I remember holding my finger on that button knowing that he couldn’t get really mad at me because I would have it on film, so he had to keep smiling even though he was getting cross.” Merilee reclaims her identity through editing, imposing her own order on her father’s films. The father, “like an omnipotent God,” uses cinema to mold his family.Paul Ewing may have been doing the same – he was the only one aware of how fractured the family, his family, our family, my family actually was.In her autobiography The Words to Say It, Marie Cardinal explains to her psychoanalyst that after clinical treatment she had the strength to undertake a search for the origin of her trauma. I had a similar experience in that I was encouraged by a therapist to ask my father about the reasons behind his infidelity and what he felt were the grounds for his divorce. I had for many years believed it was because of me, that I had disappointed him as a son. Cardinal remembered her father filmed her pissing in the forest. Conscious that her urination has not only been watched, but also filmed, she felt traumatized and thought, “I want to hurt him. I want to kill him! (151)” Shooting a home movie does not always have such dramatic consequences, but it always carries a risk for the subjects filmed, especially children. Parents are not aware of the psychic consequences of a seemingly harmless act. Paul Ewing filmed my brother and I in the bath. I was using the toilet as the filming started and jumped, laughing into the tub with my brother. There is nothing suspect in this description. As a father myself I can understand the desire to film all aspects of my child’s life. At last count I have approximately thirty thousand digital photos and videos of my five year old son and the numbers are rising for his one year old sister. As Paul films us, my brother and I, playing with action figures and acting up for the camera, I laugh at my father. Some days later we were assembled to watch Paul’s latest film. The family convened in the living room, along with our maid Yolanda. When the image came on screen, it seemed to slow down. All I saw was my bottom and then as I entered the bath, my penis. And I saw it being seen by Yolanda. I was devastated, ashamed and furious at my father for showing this private moment. I ran off in tears.Unlike traditional cinematographic projection, to watch a home movie is to be involved in a “performance.” Boris Eikhenbaum proposed the notion of “interior language”: “The process of interior discourse resides in the mind of the spectator.” This interior language can be understood without referring to a context because it is located in the Subject. With the home movie, the context resides in the experience of the Subject. This model explains how completely banal images can refer to representations far removed from what is represented. Contrary to the generally euphoric collective experience, this process of returning to the self often conjures painful memories. One image, of Inez, my mother, comes up in my mind a lot. She stares into the camera as my Father films her. She appears to be engaged in a non verbal conversation with him, with the camera. She doesn’t smile but looks ready to resign, the request to stop filming that is present in so many other instances of her in Paul’s films is absent – it seems to suggest there is no point in her asking. Shortly after the date stamped onto the video image, she revealed to my brother and myself that Paul had been having an affair. “Your father does not love us anymore”. In therapy I have explored both moments – the memory and the video taped image. Something in my mother’s gaze suggests the break, the end of the illusion Paul had crafted both on film and video, and in life. Pierre Bourdieu, discussing family photography, argued that nothing could be filmed outside of what must be filmed. The same ritual ceremonies (marriage, birth, family meals, gift-giving), the same daily scenes (a baby in his mother’s arms, a baby having a bath), the same vacation sequences (playtime on the beach, walks in the forest) appear across most home movies. Discussing “common things,” Georges Perec contended the difficulty is “to free these images from the straitjacket in which they are trapped, to make them produce meaning and speak about what they are and what we are.” Home movies are precisely “common things.” Erving Goffman terms the process of “shifting of frame.” A film of minor importance can suddenly become a fabulous document when the historical context of reading changes. Every old home movie that operates within a different spatial, cultural, ethnic, or social framework will benefit from de-framed readings. Even if these images were not documents and were stereotypical home movies, they become precious because they look new. Hungarian filmmaker Péter Forgács “creates masterful reflections on the notion of the document itself: why one makes films; the language of the images and language itself; and the possibilities that the image holds for cognition” (Odin 266). The cinematography of Paul Ewing remains a source of possibilities. ReferencesAnderson, Steve F. Technologies of History: Visual Media and the Eccentricity of the Past. Lebanon, NH: University Press of New England, 2011.Bourdieu, Pierre. Photography: A Middle-Brow Art. Cambridge: Polity, 1990Boylorn, Robin M., and Mark P. Orbe, eds. Critical Autoethnography: Intersecting Cultural Identities in Everyday Life. Walnut Creek, CA: Left Coast Press, 2013.Calvin, WH. The Cerebral Symphony. New York: Bantam, 1990.Cardinal, Marie. The Words to Say It: An Autobiographical Novel. London: Women's Press, 1993.Denzin, NK. Interpretive Ethnography: Ethnographic Practices for the 21st Century. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage, 1997.Ellis, C. The Ethnographic I: A Methodological Novel about Autoethnography. Walnut Creek, CA: AltaMira Press, 2004. Eikhenbaum, Boris. “Problemes de Cine-Stylistique.” Cahiers du Cinema 220-221 (1970): 70-78.Forgacs, Peter. “Wittgenstein Tractatus: Personal Reflections of Home Movies.” Mining the Home Movie: Excavations in Histories and Memories. Berkeley. Eds. Karen Ishizuka and Patricia Zimmermann. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 2007. 47-56.Goffman, Erving. Frame Analysis: An Essay on the Organization of Experience. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1974.Ishizuka, Karen L. “The Home Movie: A Veil of Poetry.” Jubilee Book: Essays on Amateur Film (1997): 45-50.Janet, P. L’Automatisme Psychologique. Paris: Alcan, 1889. Janet, P. Les Medications Psychologiques. Paris: Alcan, 1925. MacLean, PD. “Brain Evolution Relating to Family, Play, and the Separation Call.” Arch Gen Psychiat 42 (1985): 505-517.Odin, Roger. “Reflections on the Family Home Movie as Document: A Semio-Pragmatic Approach.” Mining the Home Movie: Excavations in Histories and Memories. Eds. Karen Ishizuka and Patricia Zimmermann. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 2007. 255-271.Perec, Georges. “Approche de Quoi.” Le Pourrissement des Societies. 1975. 251-255.Piaget, Jean. Play, Dreams and Imitation in Childhood. Florence: Routledge, 2013.Schachtel, Ernest G. Metamorphosis: On the Development of Affect, Perception, Attention, and Memory. New York: Basic Books, 1959.Van der Kolk, Bessel. The Body Keeps the Score: Memory and the Evolving Psychobiology of Post Traumatic Stress. Boston: Harvard Medical School, 1994.Van der Kolk, Bessel, and Rita Fisler. “Dissociation and the Fragmentary Nature of Traumatic Memories: Overview and Exploratory Study.” Journal of Traumatic Stress (1995): 505-525.Wittgenstein, Ludwig. Culture and Value. University of Chicago Press, 1984.Zimmerman, Patricia. “Morphing History into Histories: From Amateur Film to the Archive of the Future.” Mining the Home Movie: Excavations in Histories and Memories. Eds. Karen Ishizuka and Patricia Zimmermann. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 2007. 275-288.

Neil Jordan’s Breakfast on Pluto (2005) reconceives transience and domesticity together. This queer Irish road film collapses opposition between mobility and home by uncoupling them from heteronormative structures of gender, desire, and space—male/female, public/private. The film’s protagonist, Patrick “Kitten” Braden (Cillian Murphy), wanders in search of a loved one without whom she does not feel at home. Along the way, the film exposes and exploits the doubleness of both “mobility” and “home” in the traditional road narrative, queering the conventions of the road film to convey the desire and possibilities for an alternative domesticity. In its rerouting of the traditional road plot, Breakfast on Pluto does not follow a hero escaping the obligations of home and family to find autonomy on the road. Instead, the film charts Kitten’s quest to realise a sense of home through trans-domesticity—that is, to find shelter in non-heteronormative, mutual care while in both transient and public spaces.I affix “trans-” to “domesticity” to signal both the queerness and mobility that transform understandings of domestic spaces and practices in Breakfast on Pluto. To clarify, trans-domesticity is not queer assimilation to heteronormative domesticity, nor is it a relegation of queer culture to privatised and demobilised spaces. Rather, trans-domesticity challenges the assumption that all forms of domesticity are inherently normalising and demobilising. In other words, trans-domesticity uncovers tensions and violence swept under the rugs of hegemonic domesticity. Moreover, this alternative domesticity moves between and beyond the terms of gender and spatial oppositions that delimit the normative home.Specifically, “trans-domesticity” names non-normative homemaking practices that arise out of the “desire to feel at home”, a desire that Anne-Marie Fortier identifies in queer diasporic narratives (1890-90). Accordingly, “trans-domesticity” also registers the affective processes that foster the connectedness and belonging of “home” away from private domestic spaces and places of origin, a “rethinking of the concept of home”, which Ed Madden traces in lesbian and gay migrant narratives (175-77). Building on the assumption of queer diaspora theorists “that not only can one be at home in movement, but that movement can be one’s very own home” (Rapport and Dawson 27), trans-domesticity focuses critical attention on the everyday practices and emotional labour that create a home in transience.As Breakfast on Pluto tracks its transgender protagonist’s movement between a small Irish border town, Northern Ireland, and London, the film invokes both a specifically Irish migration and the broader queer diaspora of which it is a part. While trans-domesticity is a recurring theme across a wide range of queer diasporic narratives, in Breakfast on Pluto it also simultaneously drives the plot and functions as a narrative frame. The film begins and ends with Kitten telling her story as she wanders through the streets of Soho and cares for a member of her made family, her friend Charlie’s baby.Although I am concerned with the film adaptation, Patrick McCabe’s “Prelude” to his novel, Breakfast on Pluto (1998), offers a useful point of departure: Patrick “Pussy” Braden’s dream, “as he negotiates the minefields of this world”, is “ending, once and for all, this ugly state of perpetual limbo” and “finding a map which might lead to that place called home” (McCabe x). In such a place, McCabe’s hero might lay “his head beneath a flower-bordered print that bears the words at last ‘You’re home’”(McCabe xi). By contrast, the film posits that “home” is never a “place” apart from “the minefields of this world”, and that while being in transit and in limbo might be a perpetual state, it is not necessarily an ugly one.Jordan’s film thus addresses the same questions as does Susan Fraiman in her book Extreme Domesticity: “But what about those for whom dislocation is not back story but main event? Those who, having pulled themselves apart, realize no timely arrival at a place of their own, so that being not-unpacked is an ongoing condition?” (155). Through her trans-domestic shelter-making and caregiving practices, Kitten enacts “home” in motion and in public spaces, and thereby realises the elision in the flower-bordered print in McCabe’s “Prelude” (xi), which does not assure “You are at home” but, rather, “You are home”.From Housed to Trans-Domestic SubjectivitySelf and home are equated in the dominant cultural narratives of Western modernity, but “home” in such formulations is assumed to be a self-owned, self-contained space. Psychoanalytic theorist Carl Jung describes this Ur-house as “a concretization of the individuation process, […] a symbol of psychic wholeness” (225). Philosopher Gaston Bachelard sees in the home “the topography of our intimate being”, a structure that “concentrates being within limits that protect” (xxxii). However, as historian Carolyn Steedman suggests, the mythic house that has become “the stuff of our ‘cultural psychology,’ the system of everyday metaphors by which we see ourselves”, is far from universal; rather, it reflects “the topography of the houses” of those who stand “in a central relationship to the dominant culture” (75, 17).For others, the lack of such housing correlates with political marginalisation, as the house functions as both a metaphor and material marker for culturally-recognised selfhood. As cultural geographer John Agnew argues, in capitalist societies the self-owned home is both a sign of autonomous individuality and a prerequisite for full political subjectivity (60). Philosopher Rosi Braidotti asserts that this figuration of subjectivity in “the phallo-Eurocentric master code” treats as “disposable” the “bodies of women, youth, and others who are racialised or marked off by age, gender, sexuality, and income” (6). These bodies are “reduced to marginality” and subsequently “experience dispossession of their embodied and embedded selves, in a political economy of repeated and structurally enforced eviction” (Braidotti 6).To shift the meaning of “home” and the intimately-linked “self” from a privately-owned, autonomous structure to trans-domesticity, to an ethos of care enacted even, and especially in, transient and public spaces, is not to romanticise homelessness or to deny the urgent necessity of material shelter. Breakfast on Pluto certainly does not allow viewers to do either. Rather, the figure of a trans-domestic self, like Braidotti’s “nomadic subject”, has the potential to challenge and transform the terms of power relations. Those now on the margins might then be seen as equally-embodied selves and full political subjects with the right to shelter and care.Such a political project also entails recognising and revaluing—without appropriating and demobilising—existing trans-domesticity. As Fraiman argues, “domesticity” must be “map[ped] from the margins” in order to include the homemaking practices of gender rebels and the precariously housed, of castaways and outcasts (4-5). This alternative map would allow “outsiders to normative domesticity” to “claim domesticity while wrenching it away from such things as compulsory heterosexuality […] and the illusion of a safely barricaded life” (Fraiman 4-5). Breakfast on Pluto shares in this re-mapping work by exposing the violence embedded in heteronormative domestic structures, and by charting the radical political potential of trans-domesticity.Unsettling HousesIn the traditional road narrative, “home” tends to be a static, confining structure from which the protagonist escapes, a space that then functions as “a structuring absence” on the road (Robertson 271). Bachelard describes this normative structure as a “dream house” that constitutes “a body of images that give mankind proofs or illusions of stability” (17); the house functions, Henri Lefebvre argues, as “the epitome of immobility” (92). Whether the dream is to escape and/or to return, “to write of houses”, as Adam Hanna asserts, “is to raise ideas of shelters that are fixed and secure” (113).Breakfast on Pluto quickly gives lie to those expectations. Kitten is adopted by Ma Braden (Ruth McCabe), a single woman who raises Kitten and her adopted sister in domestic space that is connected to, and part of, a public house. That spatial contiguity undermines any illusion of privacy and security, as is evident in the scene in which a school-aged Kitten, who thought herself safely home alone and thus able to dress in her mother’s and sister’s clothes, is discovered in the act by her mother and sister from the pub’s street entrance. Further, the film lays bare the built-in mechanisms of surveillance and violence that reinforce heteronormative, patriarchal structures. After discovering Kitten in women’s clothes, Ma Braden violently scrubs her clean and whacks her with a brush until Kitten says, “I’m a boy, not a girl”. The public/house space facilitates Ma Braden’s close monitoring of Kitten thereafter.As a young writer in secondary school, Kitten satirises the violence within the hegemonic home by narrating the story of the rape of her biological mother, Eily Bergin (Eva Birthistle), by Kitten’s father, Father Liam (Liam Neeson) in a scene of hyper-domesticity set in the rectory kitchen. As Patrick Mullen notes, “the rendition of the event follows the bubble-gum logic and tone of 1950s Hollywood culture” (130). The relationship between the ideal domesticity thereby invoked and the rape then depicted exposes the sexual violence for what it is: not an external violation of the double sanctity of church and home space, but rather an internal and even intrinsic violence that reinforces and is shielded by the power structures from which normative domesticity is never separate.The only sense of home that seems to bind Kitten to her place of origin is based in her affective bonds to friends Charlie (Ruth Negga) and Lawrence (Seamus Reilly). When Lawrence is killed by a bomb, Kitten is no longer at home, and she leaves town to search for the “phantom” mother she never knew. The impetus for Kitten’s wandering, then, is connection rather than autonomy, and neither the home she leaves, nor the sense of home she seeks, are fixed structures.Mobile Homes and Queering of the Western RoadBreakfast on Pluto tracks how the oppositions that seem to structure traditional road films—such as that between home and mobility, and between domestic and open spaces—continually collapse. The film invokes the “cowboy and Indian” mythology from which the Western road narrative descends (Boyle 19), but to different ends: to capture a desire for non-heteronormative affective bonds rather than “lone ranger” autonomy, and to convey a longing for domesticity on the trail, for a home that is both mobile and open. Across the past century of Irish fiction and film, “cowboy and Indian” mythology has often intersected with queer wandering, from James Joyce’s Dubliners story “An Encounter” (1914) to Lenny Abrahamson’s film Adam & Paul (2004). In this tradition, Breakfast on Pluto queers “cowboy and Indian” iconography to convey an alternative conception of domesticity and home. The prevailing ethos in the film’s queered Western scenes is of trans-domesticity—of inclusion and care during transience and in open spaces. After bar bouncers exclude Kitten and friends because of her transgenderism and Lawrence’s Down syndrome, “The Border Knights” (hippie-bikers-cum-cowboys) ride to their rescue and bring them to their temporary home under the stars. Once settled around the campfire, the first biker shares his philosophy with a cuddled-up Kitten: “When I’m riding my hog, you think I’m riding the road? No way, man. I’m travelling from the past into the future with a druid at my back”. “Druid man or woman?” Kitten asks. “That doesn’t matter”, the biker clarifies, “What matters is the journey”. What matters is not place as fixed destination or gender as static difference, but rather the practice of travelling with open relationships to space, to time, and to others. The bikers welcome all to their fire and include both Kitten and Lawrence in their sharing of jokes and joints. The only exclusion is of reference to political violence, which Charlie’s boyfriend, Irwin (Laurence Kinlan), tries to bring into the conversation.Further, Kitten uses domesticity to try to establish a place for herself while on the road with “Billy Hatchett and The Mohawks”, the touring band that picks her up when she leaves Ma Braden’s. As Mullen notes, “Kitten literally works herself into the band by hand sewing a ‘squaw’ outfit to complement the group’s glam-rock Native American image” (Mullen 141). The duet that Kitten performs with Billy (Gavin Friday), a song about a woman inviting “a wandering man” to share the temporary shelter of her campfire, invokes trans-domesticity. But the film intercuts their performance with scenes of violent border-policing: first, by British soldiers at a checkpoint who threaten the group and boast about the “13 less to deal with” in Derry, and then by members of the Republican Prisoners Welfare Association, who throw cans at the group and yell them off stage. A number of critics have noted the postcolonial implications of Breakfast on Pluto’s use of Native American iconography, which in these intercut scenes clearly raises the national stakes of constructions of domestic belonging (see, for instance, Winston 153-71). In complementary ways, the film queers “cowboy and Indian” mythology to reimagine “mobility” and “home” together.After Kitten is forced out by the rest of the band, Billy sets her up in a caravan, a mobile home left to him by his mother. Though Billy “wouldn’t exactly call it a house”, Kitten sees in it her first chance at a Bachelardian “dream house”: she calls it a “house of dreams and longing” and cries, “Oh, to have a little house, to own the hearth, stool, and all”. Kitten ecstatically begins to tidy the place, performing what Fraiman terms a “hyper-investment in homemaking” that functions “as compensation for domestic deprivation” (20).Aisling Cormack suggests that Kitten’s hyper-investment in homemaking signals the film’s “radical disengagement with politics” to a “femininity that is inherently apolitical” (169-70). But that reading holds only if viewers assume a gendered, spatial divide between public and private, and between the political and the domestic. As Fraiman asserts, “the political meaning of fixating on domestic arrangements is more complex […] For the poor or transgendered person, the placeless immigrant or the woman on her own, aspiring to a safe, affirming home doesn’t reinforce hierarchical social relations but is pitched, precisely, against them” (20).Trans-Domesticity as Political ActEven as Kitten invokes the idea of a Bachelardian dream house, she performs a trans-domesticity that exposes the falseness of the gendered, spatial oppositions assumed to structure the normative home. Her domesticity is not an apolitical retreat; rather, it is pitched, precisely, against the violence that public/private and political/domestic oppositions enable within the house, as well as beyond it. As she cleans, Kitten discovers that violence is literally embedded in her caravan home when she finds a cache of Irish Republican Army (IRA) guns under the floor. After a bomb kills Lawrence, Kitten throws the guns into a reservoir, a defiant act that she describes to the IRA paramilitaries who come looking for the guns as “spring cleaning”. Cormack asserts that Kitten “describing her perilous destruction of the guns in terms of domestic labor” strips it “of all political significance” (179). I argue instead that it demonstrates the radical potential of trans-domesticity, of an ethos of care-taking and shelter-making asserted in public and political spaces. Kitten’s act is not apolitical, though it is decidedly anti-violence.From the beginning of Breakfast on Pluto, Kitten’s trans-domesticity exposes the violence structurally embedded in heteronormative domestic ideology. Additionally, the film’s regular juxtaposition of scenes of Kitten’s homemaking practices with scenes of political violence demonstrates that no form of domesticity functions as a private, apolitical retreat from “the minefields of this world” (McCabe x). This latter counterpoint throws into relief the political significance of Kitten’s trans-domesticity. Her domestic practices are her means of resisting and transforming the structural violence that poses an existential threat to marginalised and dispossessed people.After Kitten is accused of being responsible for an IRA bombing in London, the ruthless, violent interrogation of Kitten by British police officers begins to break down her sense of self. Throughout this brutal scene, Kitten compulsively straightens the chairs and tidies the room, and she responds to her interrogators with kindness and even affection. Fraiman’s theorisation of “extreme domesticity” helps to articulate how Kitten’s homemaking in carceral space—she calls it “My Sweet Little Cell”—is an “urgent” act that, “in the wake of dislocation”, can mean “safety, sanity, and self-expression; survival in the most basic sense” (25). Cormack reads Kitten’s reactions in this scene as “masochistic” and the male police officers’ nurturing response as of a piece with the film’s “more-feminine-than-feminine disengagement from political realities” (185-89). However, I disagree: Kitten’s trans-domesticity is a political act that both sustains her within structures that would erase her and converts officers of the state to an ethos of care and shelter. Inspector Routledge, for example, gently carries Kitten back to her cell, and after her release, PC Wallis ensures that she is safely (if not privately) housed with a cooperatively-run peep show, the address at which an atoning Father Liam locates her in London.After Kitten and a pregnant Charlie are burned out of the refuge that they temporarily find with Father Liam, Kitten and Charlie return to London, where Charlie’s baby is born soon after into the trans-domesticity that opens the film. Rejoining the story’s frame, Breakfast on Pluto ends close to where it begins: Kitten and the baby meet Charlie outside a London hospital, where Kitten sees Eily Bergin with her new son, Patrick. Instead of meeting where their paths intersect, the two families pass each other and turn in opposite directions. Kitten now knows that hers is both a different road and a different kind of home. “Home”, then, is not a place gained once and for all. Rather, home is a perpetual practice that does not separate one from the world, but can create the shelter of mutual care as one wanders through it.The Radical Potential and Structural Limits of Trans-DomesticityBreakfast on Pluto demonstrates the agency that trans-domesticity can afford in the lives of marginalised and dispossessed individuals, as well as the power of the structures that militate against its broader realisation. The radical political potential of trans-domesticity manifests in the transformation in the two police officers’ relational practices. Kitten’s trans-domesticity also inspires a reformation in Father Liam, the film’s representative of the Catholic Church and a man whose relationship to others transmutes from sexual violence and repressive secrecy to mutual nurturance and inclusive love. Although these individual conversions do not signify changes in structures of power, they do allow viewers to imagine the possibility of a state and a church that cherish, shelter, and care for all people equally. The film’s ending conveys this sense of fairy-tale-like possibility through its Disney-esque chattering birds and the bubble-gum pop song, “Sugar Baby Love”.In the end, the sense of hopefulness that closes Breakfast on Pluto coexists with the reality that dominant power structures will not recognise Kitten’s trans-domestic subjectivity and family, and that those structures will work to contain any perceived threat, just as the Catholic Church banishes the converted Father Liam to Kilburn Parish. That Kitten and Charlie nevertheless realise a clear contentment in themselves and in their made family demonstrates the vital importance of trans-domesticity and other forms of “extreme domesticity” in the lives of those who wander.ReferencesAgnew, John. “Home Ownership and Identity in Capitalist Societies.” Housing and Identity: Cross Cultural Perspectives. Ed. James S. Duncan. New York: Holmes and Meier, 1982. 60–97.Bachelard, Gaston. The Poetics of Space. 1957. Trans. Maria Jolas. Boston: Beacon Press, 1969.Boyle, Kevin Jon, ed. Rear View Mirror: Automobile Images and American Identities. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2000.Braidotti, Rosi. Nomadic Subjects: Embodiment and Sexual Difference in Contemporary Feminist Theory. 2nd ed. New York: Columbia University Press, 2011.Breakfast on Pluto. Dir. Neil Jordan. Pathé Pictures International, 2005.Cormack, Aisling B. “Toward a ‘Post-Troubles’ Cinema? The Troubled Intersection of Political Violence and Gender in Neil Jordan’s The Crying Game and Breakfast on Pluto.” Éire-Ireland 49.1–2 (2014): 164–92.Fortier, Anne-Marie. “Queer Diaspora.” Handbook of Lesbian and Gay Studies. Eds. Diane Richardson and Steven Seidman. London: Sage Publishing, 2002. 183–97.Fraiman, Susan. Extreme Domesticity: A View from the Margins. New York: Columbia University Press, 2017.Hanna, Adam. Northern Irish Poetry and Domestic Space. London: Palgrave Macmillan, 2015. Jung, Carl. Memories, Dreams, Reflections. 1957. Ed. Aniela Jaffe. Trans. Clara Winston and Richard Winston. New York: Vintage Books, 1989.Lefebvre, Henri. The Production of Social Space. Trans. Donald Nicholson-Smith. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991.Madden, Ed. “Queering the Irish Diaspora: David Rees and Padraig Rooney.” Éire-Ireland 47.1–2 (2012): 172–200.McCabe, Patrick. Breakfast on Pluto. London: Picador, 1998.Mullen, Patrick R. The Poor Bugger’s Tool: Irish Modernism, Queer Labor, and Postcolonial History. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012.Rapport, Nigel, and Andrew Dawson. Migrants of Identity: Perceptions of ‘Home’ in a World of Movement. Oxford: Berg, 1998.Robertson, Pamela. “Home and Away: Friends of Dorothy on the Road in Oz.” The Road Movie Book. Eds. Steven Cohen and Ina Rae Hark. London: Routledge, 1997. 271–306.Steedman, Carolyn. Landscape for a Good Woman: A Story of Two Lives. New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press, 1987.Winston, Greg. “‘Reluctant Indians’: Irish Identity and Racial Masquerade.” Irish Modernism and the Global Primitive. Eds. Maria McGarrity and Claire A. Culleton. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2009. 153–71.

Kangatarianism is the rather inelegant word coined in the first decade of the twenty-first century to describe an omnivorous diet in which the only meat consumed is that of the kangaroo. First published in the media in 2010 (Barone; Zukerman), the term circulated in Australian environmental and academic circles including the Global Animal conference at the University of Wollongong in July 2011 where I first heard it from members of the Think Tank for Kangaroos (THINKK) group. By June 2017, it had gained enough attention to be named the Oxford English Dictionary’s Australian word of the month (following on from May’s “smashed avo,” another Australian food innovation), but it took the Nine Network reality television series Love Island Australia to raise kangatarian to trending status on social media (Oxford UP). During the first episode, aired in late May 2018, Justin, a concreter and fashion model from Melbourne, declared himself to have previously been a kangatarian as he chatted with fellow contestant, Millie. Vet nurse and animal lover Millie appeared to be shocked by his revelation but was tentatively accepting when Justin explained what kangatarian meant, and justified his choice on the grounds that kangaroo are not farmed. In the social media response, it was clear that eating only the meat of kangaroos as an ethical choice was an entirely new concept to many viewers, with one tweet stating “Kangatarian isn’t a thing”, while others variously labelled the diet brutal, intriguing, or quintessentially Australian (see #kangatarian on Twitter).There is a well developed literature around the arguments for and against eating kangaroo, and why settler Australians tend to be so reluctant to do so (see for example, Probyn; Cawthorn and Hoffman). Here, I will concentrate on the role that ethics play in this food choice by examining how the adoption of kangatarianism can be understood as a bargain struck to help to manage grief in the Anthropocene, and the limitations of that bargain. As Lesley Head has argued, we are living in a time of loss and of grieving, when much that has been taken for granted is becoming unstable, and “we must imagine that drastic changes to everyday life are in the offing” (313). Applying the classic (and contested) model of five stages of grief, first proposed by Elisabeth Kübler-Ross in her book On Death and Dying in 1969, much of the population of the western world seems to be now experiencing denial, her first stage of loss, while those in the most vulnerable environments have moved on to anger with developed countries for destructive actions in the past and inaction in the present. The next stages (or states) of grieving—bargaining, depression, and acceptance—are likely to be manifested, although not in any predictable sequence, as the grief over current and future losses continues (Haslam).The great expansion of food restrictive diets in the Anthropocene can be interpreted as part of this bargaining state of grieving as individuals attempt to respond to the imperative to reduce their environmental impact but also to limit the degree of change to their own diet required to do so. Meat has long been identified as a key component of an individual’s environmental footprint. From Frances Moore Lappé’s 1971 Diet for a Small Planet through the United Nations’ Food and Agriculture Organisation’s 2006 report Livestock’s Long Shadow to the 2019 report of the EAT–Lancet Commission on Healthy Diets from Sustainable Food Systems, the advice has been consistent: meat consumption should be minimised in, if not eradicated from, the human diet. The EAT–Lancet Commission Report quantified this to less than 28 grams (just under one ounce) of beef, lamb or pork per day (12, 25). For many this would be keenly felt, in terms of how meals are constructed, the sensory experiences associated with eating meat and perceptions of well-being but meat is offered up as a sacrifice to bring about the return of the beloved healthy planet.Rather than accept the advice to cut out meat entirely, those seeking to bargain with the Anthropocene also find other options. This has given rise to a suite of foodways based around restricting meat intake in volume or type. Reducing the amount of commercially produced beef, lamb and pork eaten is one approach, while substituting a meat the production of which has a smaller environmental footprint, most commonly chicken or fish, is another. For those willing to make deeper changes, the meat of free living animals, especially those which are killed accidentally on the roads or for deliberately for environmental management purposes, is another option. Further along this spectrum are the novel protein sources suggested in the Lancet report, including insects, blue-green algae and laboratory-cultured meats.Kangatarianism is another form of this bargain, and is backed by at least half a century of advocacy. The Australian Conservation Foundation made calls to reduce the numbers of other livestock and begin a sustainable harvest of kangaroo for food in 1970 when the sale of kangaroo meat for human consumption was still illegal across the country (Conservation of Kangaroos). The idea was repeated by biologist Gordon Grigg in the late 1980s (Jackson and Vernes 173), and again in the Garnaut Climate Change Review in 2008 (547–48). Kangaroo meat is high in protein and iron, low in fat, and high in healthy polyunsaturated fatty acids and conjugated linoleic acid, and, as these authors showed, has a smaller environmental footprint than beef, lamb, or pork. Kangaroo require less water than cattle, sheep or pigs, and no land is cleared to grow feed for them or give them space to graze. Their paws cause less erosion and compaction of soil than do the hooves of common livestock. They eat less fodder than ruminants and their digestive processes result in lower emissions of the powerful greenhouse gas methane and less solid waste.As Justin of Love Island was aware, kangaroo are not farmed in the sense of being deliberately bred, fed, confined, or treated with hormones, drugs or chemicals, which also adds to their lighter impact on the environment. However, some pastoralists argue that because they cannot prevent kangaroos from accessing the food, water, shelter, and protection from predators they provide for their livestock, they do effectively farm them, although they receive no income from sales of kangaroo meat. This type of light touch farming of kangaroos has a very long history in Australia going back to the continent’s first peopling some 60,000 years ago. Kangaroos were so important to Aboriginal people that a wide range of environments were manipulated to produce their favoured habitats of open grasslands edged by sheltering trees. As Bill Gammage demonstrated, fire was used as a tool to preserve and extend grassy areas, to encourage regrowth which would attract kangaroos and to drive the animals from one patch to another or towards hunters waiting with spears (passim, for example, 58, 72, 76, 93). Gammage and Bruce Pascoe agree that this was a form of animal husbandry in which the kangaroos were drawn to the areas prepared for them for the young grass or, more forcefully, physically directed using nets, brush fences or stone walls. Burnt ground served to contain the animals in place of fencing, and regular harvesting kept numbers from rising to levels which would place pressure on other species (Gammage 79, 281–86; Pascoe 42–43). Contemporary advocates of eating kangaroo have promoted the idea that they should be deliberately co-produced with other livestock instead of being killed to preserve feed and water for sheep and cattle (Ellicott; Wilson 39). Substituting kangaroo for the meat of more environmentally damaging animals would facilitate a reduction in the numbers of cattle and sheep, lessening the harm they do.Most proponents have assumed that their audience is current meat eaters who would substitute kangaroo for the meat of other more environmentally costly animals, but kangatarianism can also emerge from vegetarianism. Wendy Zukerman, who wrote about kangaroo hunting for New Scientist in 2010, was motivated to conduct the research because she was considering becoming an early adopter of kangatarianism as the least environmentally taxing way to counter the longterm anaemia she had developed as a vegetarian. In 2018, George Wilson, honorary professor in the Australian National University’s Fenner School of Environment and Society called for vegetarians to become kangatarians as a means of boosting overall consumption of kangaroo for environmental and economic benefits to rural Australia (39).Given these persuasive environmental arguments, it might be expected that many people would have perceived eating kangaroo instead of other meat as a favourable bargain and taken up the call to become kangatarian. Certainly, there has been widespread interest in trying kangaroo meat. In 1997, only five years after the sale of kangaroo meat for human consumption had been legalised in most states (South Australia did so in 1980), 51% of 500 people surveyed in five capital cities said they had tried kangaroo. However, it had not become a meat of choice with very few found to eat it more than three times a year (Des Purtell and Associates iv). Just over a decade later, a study by Ampt and Owen found an increase to 58% of 1599 Australians surveyed across the country who had tried kangaroo but just 4.7% eating it at least monthly (14). Bryce Appleby, in his study of kangaroo consumption in the home based on interviews with 28 residents of Wollongong in 2010, specifically noted the absence of kangatarians—then a very new concept. A study of 261 Sydney university students in 2014 found that half had tried kangaroo meat and 10% continued to eat it with any regularity. Only two respondents identified themselves as kangatarian (Grant 14–15). Kangaroo meat advocate Michael Archer declared in 2017 that “there’s an awful lot of very, very smart vegetarians [who] have opted for semi vegetarianism and they’re calling themselves ‘kangatarians’, as they’re quite happy to eat kangaroo meat”, but unless there had been a significant change in a few years, the surveys did not bear out his assertion (154).The ethical calculations around eating kangaroo are complicated by factors beyond the strictly environmental. One Tweeter advised Justin: “‘I’m a kangatarian’ isn’t a pickup line, mate”, and certainly the reception of his declaration could have been very cool, especially as it was delivered to a self declared animal warrior (N’Tash Aha). All of the studies of beliefs and practices around the eating of kangaroo have noted a significant minority of Australians who would not consider eating kangaroo based on issues of animal welfare and animal rights. The 1997 study found that 11% were opposed to the idea of eating kangaroo, while in Grant’s 2014 study, 15% were ethically opposed to eating kangaroo meat (Des Purtell and Associates iv; Grant 14–15). Animal ethics complicate the bargains calculated principally on environmental grounds.These ethical concerns work across several registers. One is around the flesh and blood kangaroo as a charismatic native animal unique to Australia and which Australians have an obligation to respect and nurture. Sheep, cattle and pigs have been subject to longterm propaganda campaigns which entrench the idea that they are unattractive and unintelligent, and veil their transition to meat behind euphemistic language and abattoir walls, making it easier to eat them. Kangaroos are still seen as resourceful and graceful animals, and no linguistic tricks shield consumers from the knowledge that it is a roo on their plate. A proposal in 2009 to market a “coat of arms” emu and kangaroo-flavoured potato chip brought complaints to the Advertising Standards Bureau that this was disrespectful to these native animals, although the flavours were to be simulated and the product vegetarian (Black). Coexisting with this high regard to kangaroos is its antithesis. That is, a valuation of them informed by their designation as a pest in the pastoral industry, and the use of the carcasses of those killed to feed dogs and other companion animals. Appleby identified a visceral, disgust response to the idea of eating kangaroo in many of his informants, including both vegetarians who would not consider eating kangaroo because of their commitment to a plant-based diet, and at least one omnivore who would prefer to give up all meat rather than eat kangaroo. While diametrically opposed, the end point of both positions is that kangaroo meat should not be eaten.A second animal ethics stance relates to the imagined kangaroo, a cultural construct which for most urban Australians is much more present in their lives and likely to shape their actions than the living animals. It is behind the rejection of eating an animal which holds such an iconic place in Australian culture: to the dexter on the 1912 national coat of arms; hopping through the Hundred Acre Wood as Kanga and Roo in A.A. Milne’s Winnie-the-Pooh children’s books from the 1920s and the Disney movies later made from them; as a boy’s best friend as Skippy the Bush Kangaroo in a fondly remembered 1970s television series; and high in the sky on QANTAS planes. The anthropomorphising of kangaroos permitted the spectacle of the boxing kangaroo from the late nineteenth century. By framing natural kangaroo behaviours as boxing, these exhibitions encouraged an ambiguous understanding of kangaroos as human-like, moving them further from the category of food (Golder and Kirkby). Australian government bodies used this idea of the kangaroo to support food exports to Britain, with kangaroos as cooks or diners rather than ingredients. The Kangaroo Kookery Book of 1932 (see fig. 1 below) portrayed kangaroos as a nuclear family in a suburban kitchen and another official campaign supporting sales of Australian produce in Britain in the 1950s featured a Disney-inspired kangaroo eating apples and chops washed down with wine (“Kangaroo to Be ‘Food Salesman’”). This imagining of kangaroos as human-like has persisted, leading to the opinion expressed in a 2008 focus group, that consuming kangaroo amounted to “‘eating an icon’ … Although they are pests they are still human nature … these are native animals, people and I believe that is a form of cannibalism!” (Ampt and Owen 26). Figure 1: Rather than promoting the eating of kangaroos, the portrayal of kangaroos as a modern suburban family in the Kangaroo Kookery Book (1932) made it unthinkable. (Source: Kangaroo Kookery Book, Director of Australian Trade Publicity, Australia House, London, 1932.)The third layer of ethical objection on the ground of animal welfare is more specific, being directed to the method of killing the kangaroos which become food. Kangaroos are perhaps the only native animals for which state governments set quotas for commercial harvest, on the grounds that they compete with livestock for pasturage and water. In most jurisdictions, commercially harvested kangaroo carcasses can be processed for human consumption, and they are the ones which ultimately appear in supermarket display cases.Kangaroos are killed by professional shooters at night using swivelling spotlights mounted on their vehicles to locate and daze the animals. While clean head shots are the ideal and regulations state that animals should be killed when at rest and without causing “undue agonal struggle”, this is not always achieved and some animals do suffer prolonged deaths (NSW Code of Practice for Kangaroo Meat for Human Consumption). By regulation, the young of any female kangaroo must be killed along with her. While averting a slow death by neglect, this is considered cruel and wasteful. The hunt has drawn international criticism, including from Greenpeace which organised campaigns against the sale of kangaroo meat in Europe in the 1980s, and Viva! which was successful in securing the withdrawal of kangaroo from sale in British supermarkets (“Kangaroo Meat Sales Criticised”). These arguments circulate and influence opinion within Australia.A final animal ethics issue is that what is actually behind the push for greater use of kangaroo meat is not concern for the environment or animal welfare but the quest to turn a profit from these animals. The Kangaroo Industries Association of Australia, formed in 1970 to represent those who dealt in the marsupials’ meat, fur and skins, has been a vocal advocate of eating kangaroo and a sponsor of market research into how it can be made more appealing to the market. The Association argued in 1971 that commercial harvest was part of the intelligent conservation of the kangaroo. They sought minimum size regulations to prevent overharvesting and protect their livelihoods (“Assn. Backs Kangaroo Conservation”). The Association’s current website makes the claim that wild harvested “Australian kangaroo meat is among the healthiest, tastiest and most sustainable red meats in the world” (Kangaroo Industries Association of Australia). That this is intended to initiate a new and less controlled branch of the meat industry for the benefit of hunters and processors, rather than foster a shift from sheep or cattle to kangaroos which might serve farmers and the environment, is the opinion of Dr. Louise Boronyak, of the Centre for Compassionate Conservation at the University of Technology Sydney (Boyle 19).Concerns such as these have meant that kangaroo is most consumed where it is least familiar, with most of the meat for human consumption recovered from culled animals being exported to Europe and Asia. Russia has been the largest export market. There, kangaroo meat is made less strange by blending it with other meats and traditional spices to make processed meats, avoiding objections to its appearance and uncertainty around preparation. With only a low profile as a novelty animal in Russia, there are fewer sentimental concerns about consuming kangaroo, although the additional food miles undermine its environmental credentials. The variable acceptability of kangaroo in more distant markets speaks to the role of culture in determining how patterns of eating are formed and can be shifted, or, as Elspeth Probyn phrased it “how natural entities are transformed into commodities within a context of globalisation and local communities”, underlining the impossibility of any straightforward ethics of eating kangaroo (33, 35).Kangatarianism is a neologism which makes the eating of kangaroo meat something it has not been in the past, a voluntary restriction based on environmental ethics. These environmental benefits are well founded and eating kangaroo can be understood as an Anthropocenic bargain struck to allow the continuation of the consumption of red meat while reducing one’s environmental footprint. Although superficially attractive, the numbers entering into this bargain remain small because environmental ethics cannot be disentangled from animal ethics. The anthropomorphising of the kangaroo and its use as a national symbol coexist with its categorisation as a pest and use of its meat as food for companion animals. Both understandings of kangaroos made their meat uneatable for many Australians. Paired with concerns over how kangaroos are killed and the commercialisation of a native species, kangaroo meat has a very mixed reception despite decades of advocacy for eating its meat in favour of that of more harmed and more harmful introduced species. Given these constraints, kangatarianism is unlikely to become widespread and indeed it should be viewed as at best a temporary exigency. As the climate warms and rainfall becomes more erratic, even animals which have evolved to suit Australian conditions will come under increasing pressure, and humans will need to reach Kübler-Ross’ final state of grief: acceptance. In this case, this would mean acceptance that our needs cannot be placed ahead of those of other animals.ReferencesAmpt, Peter, and Kate Owen. Consumer Attitudes to Kangaroo Meat Products. Canberra: Rural Industries Research and Development Corporation, 2008.Appleby, Bryce. “Skippy the ‘Green’ Kangaroo: Identifying Resistances to Eating Kangaroo in the Home in a Context of Climate Change.” BSc Hons, U of Wollongong, 2010 <http://ro.uow.edu.au/thsci/103>.Archer, Michael. “Zoology on the Table: Plenary Session 4.” Australian Zoologist 39, 1 (2017): 154–60.“Assn. Backs Kangaroo Conservation.” The Beverley Times 26 Feb. 1971: 3. 22 Feb. 2019 <http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article202738733>.Barone, Tayissa. “Kangatarians Jump the Divide.” Sydney Morning Herald 9 Feb. 2010. 13 Apr. 2019 <https://www.smh.com.au/lifestyle/kangatarians-jump-the-divide-20100209-gdtvd8.html>.Black, Rosemary. “Some Australians Angry over Idea for Kangaroo and Emu-Flavored Potato Chips.” New York Daily News 4 Dec. 2009. 5 Feb. 2019 <https://www.nydailynews.com/life-style/eats/australians-angry-idea-kangaroo-emu-flavored-potato-chips-article-1.431865>.Boyle, Rhianna. “Eating Skippy.” Big Issue Australia 578 11-24 Jan. 2019: 16–19.Cawthorn, Donna-Mareè, and Louwrens C. Hoffman. “Controversial Cuisine: A Global Account of the Demand, Supply and Acceptance of ‘Unconventional’ and ‘Exotic’ Meats.” Meat Science 120 (2016): 26–7.Conservation of Kangaroos. Melbourne: Australian Conservation Foundation, 1970.Des Purtell and Associates. Improving Consumer Perceptions of Kangaroo Products: A Survey and Report. Canberra: Rural Industries Research and Development Corporation, 1997.Ellicott, John. “Little Pay Incentive for Shooters to Join Kangaroo Meat Industry.” The Land 15 Mar. 2018. 28 Mar. 2019 <https://www.theland.com.au/story/5285265/top-roo-shooter-says-harvesting-is-a-low-paid-job/>.Garnaut, Ross. Garnaut Climate Change Review. 2008. 26 Feb. 2019 <http://www.garnautreview.org.au/index.htm>.Gammage, Bill. The Biggest Estate on Earth: How Aborigines Made Australia. Sydney: Allen and Unwin, 2012.Golder, Hilary, and Diane Kirkby. “Mrs. Mayne and Her Boxing Kangaroo: A Married Woman Tests Her Property Rights in Colonial New South Wales.” Law and History Review 21.3 (2003): 585–605.Grant, Elisabeth. “Sustainable Kangaroo Harvesting: Perceptions and Consumption of Kangaroo Meat among University Students in New South Wales.” Independent Study Project (ISP). U of NSW, 2014. <https://digitalcollections.sit.edu/isp_collection/1755>.Haslam, Nick. “The Five Stages of Grief Don’t Come in Fixed Steps – Everyone Feels Differently.” The Conversation 22 Oct. 2018. 28 Mar. 2019 <https://theconversation.com/the-five-stages-of-grief-dont-come-in-fixed-steps-everyone-feels-differently-96111>.Head, Lesley. “The Anthropoceans.” Geographical Research 53.3 (2015): 313–20.Kangaroo Industries Association of Australia. Kangaroo Meat. 26 Feb. 2019 <http://www.kangarooindustry.com/products/meat/>.“Kangaroo Meat Sales Criticised.” The Canberra Times 13 Sep. 1984: 14. 22 Feb 2019 <http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article136915919>.“Kangaroo to Be Food ‘Salesman.’” Newcastle Morning Herald and Miners’ Advocate, 2 Dec. 1954. 22 Feb 2019 <http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article134089767>.Kübler-Ross, Elisabeth. On Death and Dying: What the Dying Have to Teach Doctors, Nurses, Clergy, and their own Families. New York: Touchstone, 1997.Jackson, Stephen, and Karl Vernes. Kangaroo: Portrait of an Extraordinary Marsupial. Sydney: Allen and Unwin, 2010.Lappé, Frances Moore. Diet for a Small Planet. New York: Ballantine Books, 1971.N’Tash Aha (@Nsvasey). “‘I’m a Kangatarian’ isn’t a Pickup Line, Mate. #LoveIslandAU.” Twitter post. 27 May 2018. 5 Apr. 2019 <https://twitter.com/Nsvasey/status/1000697124122644480>.“NSW Code of Practice for Kangaroo Meat for Human Consumption.” Government Gazette of the State of New South Wales 24 Mar. 1993. 22 Feb. 2019 <http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-page14638033>.Oxford University Press, Australia and New Zealand. Word of the Month. June 2017. <https://www.oup.com.au/dictionaries/word-of-the-month>.Pascoe, Bruce. Dark Emu, Black Seeds: Agriculture or Accident? Broome: Magabala Books, 2014.Probyn, Elspeth. “Eating Roo: Of Things That Become Food.” New Formations 74.1 (2011): 33–45.Steinfeld, Henning, Pierre Gerber, Tom Wassenaar, Vicent Castel, Mauricio Rosales, and Cees d Haan. Livestock’s Long Shadow: Environmental Issues and Options. Rome: Food and Agriculture Organisation of the United Nations, 2006.Trust Nature. Essence of Kangaroo Capsules. 26 Feb. 2019 <http://ncpro.com.au/products/all-products/item/88139-essence-of-kangaroo-35000>.Victoria Department of Environment, Land, Water and Planning. Kangaroo Pet Food Trial. 28 Mar. 2019 <https://www.wildlife.vic.gov.au/managing-wildlife/wildlife-management-and-control-authorisations/kangaroo-pet-food-trial>.Willett, Walter, et al. “Food in the Anthropocene: The EAT–Lancet Commission on Healthy Diets from Sustainable Food Systems.” The Lancet 16 Jan. 2019. 26 Feb. 2019 <https://www.thelancet.com/commissions/EAT>.Wilson, George. “Kangaroos Can Be an Asset Rather than a Pest.” Australasian Science 39.1 (2018): 39.Zukerman, Wendy. “Eating Skippy: The Future of Kangaroo Meat.” New Scientist 208.2781 (2010): 42–5.

In August 2006 the LiveJournal (hereafter LJ) community sga_flashfic posted its bimonthly challenge: a “Mission Report” challenge. Challenge communities are fandom-specific sites where moderators pick a theme or prompt to which writers respond and then post their specific fan works. The terms of this challenge were to encourage participants to invent a new mission and create a piece of fan fiction in the form of a mission report from the point of view of the Stargate Atlantis team of explorers. As an alternative possibility, and this is where the trouble started, the challenge also allowed to “take another author’s story and write a report” of its mission. Moderator Cesperanza then explained, “if you choose to write a mission report of somebody else’s story, we’ll ask you to credit them, but we won’t require you to ask their permission” (sga_flashfic LJ, 21 Aug. 2006, emphasis added). Whereas most announcement posts would only gather a few comments, this reached more than a hundred responses within hours, mostly complaints. Even though the community administrators quickly backtracked and posted a revision of the challenge not 12 hours later, the fannish LiveJournal sphere debated the challenge for days, reaching far beyond the specific fandom of Stargate Atlantis to discuss the ethical questions surrounding fannish appropriation and remix. At the center of the debate were the last eight words: “we won’t require you to ask their permission.” By encouraging fans to effectively write fan fiction of fan fiction and by not requiring permission, the moderators had violated an unwritten norm within this fannish community. Like all fan communities, western media fans have developed internal rules covering everything from what to include in a story header to how long to include a spoiler warning following aired episodes (for a definition and overview of western media fandom, see Coppa). In this example, the mods violated the fannish prohibition against the borrowing of original characters, settings, plot points, or narrative structures from other fan writers without permission—even though as fan fiction, the source of the inspiration engages in such borrowing itself. These kinds of normative rules can be altered, of course, but any change requires long and involved discussions. In this essay, we look at various debates that showcase how this fan community—media fandom on LiveJournal—creates and enforces but also discusses and changes its normative behavior. Fan fiction authors’ desire to prevent their work from being remixed may seem hypocritical, but we argue that underlying these conversations are complex negotiations of online privacy and control, affective aesthetics, and the value of fan labor. This is not to say that all fan communities address issues of remixing in the same way media fandom at this point in time did nor to suggest that they should; rather, we want to highlight a specific community’s internal ethics, the fervor with which members defend their rules, and the complex arguments that evolve from all sides when rules are questioned. Moreover, we suggest that these conversations offer insight into the specific relation many fan writers have to their stories and how it may differ from a more universal authorial affect. In order to fully understand the underlying motivations and the community ethos that spawned the sga_flashfic debates, we first want to differentiate between forms of unauthorised (re)uses and the legal, moral, and artistic concerns they create. Only with a clear definition of copyright infringement and plagiarism, as well as a clear understanding of who is affected (and in what ways) in any of these cases, can we fully understand the social and moral intersection of fan remixing of fan fiction. Only when sidestepping the legal and economic concerns surrounding remix can we focus on the ethical intricacies between copyright holders and fan writers and, more importantly, within fan communities. Fan communities differ greatly over time, between fandoms, and even depending on their central social interfaces (such as con-based zines, email-based listservs, journal-based online communities, etc.), and as a result they also develop a diverse range of internal community rules (Busse and Hellekson, “Works”; Busker). Much strife is caused when different traditions and their associated mores intersect. We’d argue, however, that the issues in the case of the Stargate Atlantis Remix Challenge were less the confrontation of different communities and more the slowly changing attitudes within one. In fact, looking at media fandom today, we may already be seeing changed attitudes—even as the debates continue over remix permission and unauthorised use. Why Remixes Are Not Copyright Infringement In discussing the limits of unauthorised use, it is important to distinguish plagiarism and copyright violation from forms of remix. While we are more concerned with the ethical issues surrounding plagiarism, we want to briefly address copyright infringement, simply because it often gets mixed into the ethics of remixes. Copyright is strictly defined as a matter of law; in many of the online debates in media fandom, it is often further restricted to U.S. Law, because a large number of the source texts are owned by U.S. companies. According to the U.S. Constitution (Article I, Section 8), Congress has the power to secure an “exclusive Right” “for limited Times.” Given that intellectual property rights have to be granted and are limited, legal scholars read this statute as a delicate balance between offering authors exclusive rights and allowing the public to flourish by building on these works. Over the years, however, intellectual property rights have been expanded and increased at the expense of the public commons (Lessig, Boyle). The main exception to this exclusive right is the concept of “fair use,” defined as use “for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching..., scholarship, or research” (§107). Case law circumscribes the limits of fair use, distinguishing works that are merely “derivative” from those that are “transformative” and thus add value (Chander and Sunder, Fiesler, Katyal, McCardle, Tushnet). The legal status of fan fiction remains undefined without a specific case that would test the fair use doctrine in regards to fan fiction, yet fair use and fan fiction advocates argue that fan fiction should be understood as eminently transformative and thus protected under fair use. The nonprofit fan advocacy group, the Organization for Transformative Works, in fact makes clear its position by including the legal term in their name, reflecting a changing understanding of both fans and scholars. Why Remixes Are Not Plagiarism Whereas copyright infringement is a legal concept that punishes violations between fan writers and commercial copyright holders, plagiarism instead is defined by the norms of the audience for which a piece is written: definitions of plagiarism thus differ from academic to journalist to literary contexts. Within fandom one of the most blatant (and most easily detectable) forms of plagiarism is when a fan copies another work wholesale and publishes it under their own name, either within the same fandom or by simply searching and replacing names to make it fit another fandom. Other times, fan writers may take selections of published pro or fan fiction and insert them into their works. Within fandom accusations of plagiarism are taken seriously, and fandom as a whole polices itself with regards to plagiarism: the LiveJournal community stop_plagiarism, for example, was created in 2005 specifically to report and pursue accusations of plagiarism within fandom. The community keeps a list of known plagiarisers that include the names of over 100 fan writers. Fan fiction plagiarism can only be determined on a case-by-case basis—and fans remain hypervigilant simply because they are all too often falsely accused as merely plagiarising when instead they are interpreting, translating, and transforming. There is another form of fannish offense that does not actually constitute plagiarism but is closely connected to it, namely the wholesale reposting of stories with attributions intact. This practice is frowned upon for two main reasons. Writers like to maintain at least some control over their works, often deriving from anxieties over being able to delete one’s digital footprint if desired or necessary. Archiving stories without authorial permission strips authors of this ability. More importantly, media fandom is a gift economy, in which labor is not reimbursed economically but rather rewarded with feedback (such as comments and kudos) and the growth of a writer’s reputation (Hellekson, Scott). Hosting a story in a place where readers cannot easily give thanks and feedback to the author, the rewards for the writer’s fan labor are effectively taken from her. Reposting thus removes the story from the fannish gift exchange—or, worse, inserts the archivist in lieu of the author as the recipient of thanks and comments. Unauthorised reposting is not plagiarism, as the author’s name remains attached, but it tends to go against fannish mores nonetheless as it deprives the writer of her “payment” of feedback and recognition. When Copyright Holders Object to Fan Fiction A small group of professional authors vocally proclaim fan fiction as unethical, illegal, or both. In her “Fan Fiction Rant” Robin Hobbs declares that “Fan fiction is to writing what a cake mix is to gourmet cooking” and then calls it outright theft: “Fan fiction is like any other form of identity theft. It injures the name of the party whose identity is stolen.” Anne Rice shares her feelings about fan fiction on her web site with a permanent message: “I do not allow fan fiction. The characters are copyrighted. It upsets me terribly to even think about fan fiction with my characters. I advise my readers to write your own original stories with your own characters. It is absolutely essential that you respect my wishes.” Diana Gabaldon calls fan fiction immoral and describes, “it makes me want to barf whenever I’ve inadvertently encountered some of it involving my characters.” Moreover, in a move shared by other anti-fan fiction writers, she compares her characters to family members: “I wouldn’t like people writing sex fantasies for public consumption about me or members of my family—why would I be all right with them doing it to the intimate creations of my imagination and personality?” George R.R. Martin similarly evokes familial intimacy when he writes, “My characters are my children, I have been heard to say. I don’t want people making off with them.” What is interesting in these—and other authors’—articulations of why they disapprove of fan fiction of their works is that their strongest and ultimate argument is neither legal nor economic reasoning but an emotional plea: being a good fan means coloring within the lines laid out by the initial creator, putting one’s toys back exactly as one found them, and never ever getting creative or transformative with them. Many fan fiction writers respect these wishes and do not write in book fandoms where the authors have expressed their desires clearly. Sometimes entire archives respect an author’s desires: fanfiction.net, the largest repository of fic online, removed all stories based on Rice’s work and does not allow any new ones to be posted. However, fandom is a heterogeneous culture with no centralised authority, and it is not difficult to find fic based on Rice’s characters and settings if one knows where to look. Most of these debates are restricted to book fandoms, likely for two reasons: (1) film and TV fan fiction alters the medium, so that there is no possibility that the two works might be mistaken for one another; and (2) film and TV authorship tends to be collaborative and thus lowers the individual sense of ownership (Mann, Sellors). How Fannish Remixes Are like Fan Fiction Most fan fiction writers strongly dismiss accusations of plagiarism and theft, two accusations that all too easily are raised against fan fiction and yet, as we have shown, such accusations actually misdefine terms. Fans extensively debate the artistic values of fan fiction, often drawing from classical literary discussions and examples. Clearly echoing Wilde’s creed that “there is no such thing as a moral or immoral book,” Kalichan, for example, argues in one LJ conversation that “whenever I hear about writers asserting that other writing is immoral, I become violently ill. Aside from this, morality & legality are far from necessarily connected. Lots of things are immoral and legal, illegal and moral and so on, in every permutation imaginable, so let’s just not confuse the two, shall we” (Kalichan LJ, 3 May 2010). Aja Romano concludes an epic list of remixed works ranging from the Aeneid to The Wind Done Gone, from All’s Well That Ends Well to Wicked with a passionate appeal to authors objecting to fan fiction: the story is not defined by the barriers you place around it. The moment you gave it to us, those walls broke. You may hate the fact people are imagining more to your story than what you put there. But if I were you, I’d be grateful that I got the chance to create a story that has a culture around it, a story that people want to keep talking about, reworking, remixing, living in, fantasizing about, thinking about, writing about. (Bookshop LJ, 3 May 2010)Many fan writers view their own remixes as part of a larger cultural movement that appropriates found objects and culturally relevant materials to create new things, much like larger twentieth century movements that include Dada and Pop Art, as well as feminist and postcolonial challenges to the literary canon. Finally, fan fiction partakes in 21st century ideas of social anarchy to create a cultural creative commons of openly shared ideas. Fan Cupidsbow describes strong parallels and cross-connection between all sorts of different movements, from Warhol to opensource, DeviantArt to AMV, fanfiction to mashups, sampling to critique and review. All these things are about how people are interacting with technology every day, and not just digital technology, but pens and paper and clothes and food fusions and everything else. (Cupidsbow LJ, 20 May 2009) Legally, of course, these reuses of collectively shared materials are often treated quite differently, which is why fan fiction advocates often maintain that all remixes be treated equally—regardless of whether their source text is film, TV, literature, or fan fiction. The Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works, for example, does not distinguish in its Content and Abuse Policy section between commercial and fan works in regard to plagiarism and copyright. Returning to the initial case of the Stargate Atlantis Mission Report Challenge, we can thus see how the moderator clearly positions herself within a framework that considers all remixes equally remixable. Even after changing the guidelines to require permission for the remixing of existing fan stories, moderator Cesperanza notes that she “remain[s] philosophically committed to the idea that people have the right to make art based on other art provided that due credit is given the original artist” (sga_flashfic LJ, 21 Aug. 2006). Indeed, other fans agree with her position in the ensuing discussions, drawing attention to the hypocrisy of demanding different rules for what appears to be the exact same actions: “So explain to me how you can defend fanfiction as legitimate derivative work if it’s based on one type of source material (professional writing or TV shows), yet decry it as ‘stealing’ and plagiarism if it’s based on another type of source material (fanfiction)” (Marythefan LJ, 21 Aug. 2006). Many fans assert that all remixes should be tolerated by the creators of their respective source texts—be they pro or fan. Fans expect Rowling to be accepting of Harry Potter’s underage romance with a nice and insecure Severus Snape, and they expect Matthew Weiner to be accepting of stories that kill off Don Draper and have his (ex)wives join a commune together. So fans should equally accept fan fiction that presents the grand love of Rodney McKay and John Sheppard, the most popular non-canonical fan fiction pairing on Stargate Atlantis, to be transformed into an abusive and manipulative relationship or rewritten with one of them dying tragically. Lydiabell, for example, argues that “there’s [no]thing wrong with creating a piece of art that uses elements of another work to create something new, always assuming that proper credit is given to the original... even if your interpretation is at odds with everything the original artist wanted to convey” (Lydiabell LJ, 22 Aug. 2006). Transforming works can often move them into territory that is critical of the source text, mocks the source text, rearranges relationships, and alters characterisations. It is here that we reach the central issue of this article: many fans indeed do view intrafandom interactions as fundamentally different to their interactions with professional authors or commercial entertainment companies. While everyone agrees that there are no legal, economic, or even ultimately moral arguments to be made against remixing fan fiction (because any such argument would nullify the fan’s right to create their fan fiction in the first place), the discourses against open remixing tend to revolve around community norms, politeness, and respect. How Fannish Remixes Are Not like Fan Fiction At the heart of the debate lie issues of community norms: taking another fan’s stories as the basis for one’s own fiction is regarded as a violation of manners, at least the way certain sections of the community define them. This, in fact, is not unlike the way many fan academics engage with fandom research. While it may be perfectly legal to directly cite fans’ blog posts, and while it may even be in compliance with institutional ethical research requirements (such as Internal Review Boards at U.S. universities), the academic fan writing about her own community may indeed choose to take extra precautions to protect herself and that community. As Kristina Busse and Karen Hellekson have argued, fan studies often exists at the intersection of language and social studies, and thus written text may simultaneously be treated as artistic works and as utterances by human subjects (“Identity”). In this essay (and elsewhere), we thus limit direct linking into fannish spaces, instead giving site, date, and author, and we have consent from all fans we cite in this essay. The community of fans who write fic in a particular fandom is relatively small, and most of them are familiar with each other, or can trace a connection via one or two degrees of separation only. While writing fan fiction about Harry Potter may influence the way you and your particular circle of friends interpret the novels, it is unlikely to affect the overall reception of the work. During the remix debate, fan no_pseud articulates the differing power dynamic: When someone bases fanfic on another piece of fanfic, the balance of power in the relationship between the two things is completely different to the relationship between a piece of fanfic and the canon source. The two stories have exactly equal authority, exactly equal validity, exactly equal ‘reality’ in fandom. (nopseud LJ, 21 Aug. 2006) Within fandom, there are few stories that have the kind of reach that professional fiction does, and it is just as likely that a fan will come across an unauthorised remix of a piece of fan fiction as the original piece itself. In that way, the reception of fan fiction is more fragile, and fans are justifiably anxious about it. In a recent conversation about proper etiquette within Glee fandom, fan writer flaming_muse articulates her reasons for expecting different behavior from fandom writers who borrow ideas from each other: But there’s a huge difference between fanfic of media and fanfic of other fanfic authors. Part of it is a question of the relationship of the author to the source material … but part of it is just about not hurting or diminishing the other creative people around you. We aren’t hurting Glee by writing fic in their ‘verse; we are hurting other people if we write fanfic of fanfic. We’re taking away what’s special about their particular stories and all of the work they put into them. (Stoney321 LJ, 12 Feb. 2012)Flaming_muse brings together several concepts but underlying all is a sense of community. Thus she equates remixing within the community without permission as a violation of fannish etiquette. The sense of community also plays a role in another reason given by fans who prefer permission, which is the actual ease of getting it. Many fandoms are fairly small communities, which makes it more possible to ask for permission before doing a translation, adaptation, or other kind of rewrite of another person’s fic. Often a fan may have already given feedback to the story or shared some form of conversation with the writer, so that requesting permission seems fairly innocuous. Moreover, fandom is a community based on the economy of gifting and sharing (Hellekson), so that etiquette becomes that much more important. Unlike pro authors who are financially reimbursed for their works, feedback is effectively a fan writer’s only payment. Getting comments, kudos, or recommendations for their stories are ways in which readers reward and thank the writers for their work. Many fans feel that a gift economy functions only through the goodwill of all its participants, which remixing without permission violates. How Fan Writing May Differ From Pro Writing Fans have a different emotional investment in their creations, only partially connected to writing solely for love (as opposed to professional writers who may write for love but also write for their livelihood in the best-case scenarios). One fan, who writes both pro and fan fiction, describes her more distanced emotional involvement with her professional writing as follows, When I’m writing for money, I limit my emotional investment in the material I produce. Ultimately what I am producing does not belong to me. Someone else is buying it and I am serving their needs, not my own. (St_Crispins LJ, 27 Aug. 2006)The sense of writing for oneself as part of a community also comes through in a comment by pro and fan writer Matociquala, who describes the specificity and often quite limited audience of fan fiction as follows: Fanfiction is written in the expectation of being enjoyed in an open membership but tight-knit community, and the writer has an expectation of being included in the enjoyment and discussion. It is the difference, in other words, between throwing a fair on the high road, and a party in a back yard. Sure, you might be able to see what’s going on from the street, but you’re expected not to stare. (Matociquala LJ, 18 May 2006)What we find important here is the way both writers seem to suggest that fan fiction allows for a greater intimacy and immediacy on the whole. So while not all writers write to fulfill (their own or other’s) emotional and narrative desires, this seems to be more acceptable in fan fiction. Intimacy, i.e., the emotional and, often sexual, openness and vulnerability readers and writers exhibit in the stories and surrounding interaction, can thus constitute a central aspect for readers and writers alike. Again, none of these aspects are particular to fan fiction alone, but, unlike in much other writing, they are such a central component that the stories divorced from their context—textual, social, and emotional—may not be fully comprehensible. In a discussion several years ago, Ellen Fremedon coined the term Id Vortex, by which she refers to that very tailored and customised writing that caters to the writers’ and/or readers’ kinks, that creates stories that not only move us emotionally because we already care about the characters but also because it uses tropes, characterisations, and scenes that appeal very viscerally: In fandom, we’ve all got this agreement to just suspend shame. I mean, a lot of what we write is masturbation material, and we all know it, and so we can’t really pretend that we’re only trying to write for our readers’ most rarefied sensibilities, you know? We all know right where the Id Vortex is, and we have this agreement to approach it with caution, but without any shame at all. (Ellen Fremedon LJ, 2 Dec. 2004)Writing stories for a particular sexual kink may be the most obvious way fans tailor stories to their own (or others’) desires, but in general, fan stories often seem to be more immediate, more intimate, more revealing than most published writing. This attachment is only strengthened by fans’ immense emotional attachment to the characters, as they may spend years if not decades rewatching their show, discussing all its details, and reading and writing stories upon stories. From Community to Commons These norms and mores continue to evolve as fannish activity becomes more and more visible to the mainstream, and new generations of fans enter fandom within a culture where media is increasingly spreadable across social networks and all fannish activity is collectively described and recognised as “fandom” (Jenkins, Ford, and Green). The default mode of the mainstream often treats “found” material as disseminable, and interfaces encourage such engagement by inviting users to “share” on their collection of social networks. As a result, many new fans see remixing as not only part of their fannish right, but engage in their activity on platforms that make sharing with or without attribution both increasingly easy and normative. Tumblr is the most recent and obvious example of a platform in which reblogging other users’ posts, with or without commentary, is the normative mode. Instead of (or in addition to) uploading one’s story to an archive, a fan writer might post it on Tumblr and consider reblogs as another form of feedback. In fact, our case study and its associated differentiation of legal, moral, and artistic justifications for and against remixing fan works, may indeed be an historical artifact in its own right: media fandom as a small and well-defined community of fans with a common interest and a shared history is the exception rather than the norm in today’s fan culture. When access to stories and other fans required personal initiation, it was easy to teach and enforce a community ethos. Now, however, fan fiction tops Google searches for strings that include both Harry and Draco or Spock and Uhura, and fan art is readily reblogged by sites for shows ranging from MTV’s Teen Wolf to NBC’s Hannibal. Our essay thus must be understood as a brief glimpse into the internal debates of media fans at a particular historical juncture: showcasing not only the clear separation media fan writers make between professional and fan works, but also the strong ethos that online communities can hold and defend—if only for a little while. References Boyle, James. The Public Domain: Enclosing the Commons of the Mind. Ithaca: Yale University Press, 2008. Busker, Rebecca Lucy. “On Symposia: LiveJournal and the Shape of Fannish Discourse.” Transformative Works and Cultures 1 (2008). http://journal.transformativeworks.org/index.php/twc/article/view/49. Busse, Kristina, and Karen Hellekson. “Work in Progress.” In Karen Hellekson and Kristina Busse, eds., Fan Fiction and Fan Communities in the Age of the Internet: New Essays. Jefferson, N.C.: McFarland, 2006. 5–40. Busse, Kristina, and Karen Hellekson. “Identity, Ethics, and Fan Privacy.” In Katherine Larsen and Lynn Zubernis, eds., Fan Culture: Theory/Practice. Newcastle upon Tyne: Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 2012. 38-56. Chander, Anupam, and Madhavi Sunder. “Everyone’s a Superhero: A Cultural Theory of ‘Mary Sue’ Fan Fiction as Fair Use.” California Law Review 95 (2007): 597-626. Coppa, Francesca. “A Brief History of Media Fandom.” In Karen Hellekson and Kristina Busse, eds., Fan Fiction and Fan Communities in the Age of the Internet: New Essays. Jefferson, N.C.: McFarland, 2006. 41–59. Fiesler, Casey. “Everything I Need to Know I Learned from Fandom: How Existing Social Norms Can Help Shape the Next Generation of User-Generated Content.” Vanderbilt Journal of Entertainment and Technology Law 10 (2008): 729-62. Gabaldon, Diana. “Fan Fiction and Moral Conundrums.” Voyages of the Artemis. Blog. 3 May 2010. 7 May 2010 http://voyagesoftheartemis.blogspot.com/2010/05/fan-fiction-and-moral-conundrums.html. Hellekson, Karen. “A Fannish Field of Value: Online Fan Gift Culture.” Cinema Journal 48.4 (2009): 113–18. Hobbs, Robin. “The Fan Fiction Rant.” Robin Hobb’s Home. 2005. 14 May 2006 http://www.robinhobb.com/rant.html. Jenkins, Henry, Sam Ford, and Joshua Green. Spreadable Media: Creating Value and Meaning in a Networked Culture. New York: New York University Press, 2013. Katyal, Sonia. “Performance, Property, and the Slashing of Gender in Fan Fiction.” Journal of Gender, Social Policy, and the Law 14 (2006): 463-518. Lessig, Lawrence. Remix: Making Art and Commerce Thrive in a Hybrid Economy. New York: Penguin, 2008. Mann, Denise. “It’s Not TV, It’s Brand Management.” In Vicki Mayer, Miranda Banks, and John Thornton Caldwell, eds., Production Studies: Cultural Studies of Media Industries. New York: Routledge, 2009. 99-114. Martin, George R.R. “Someone is Angry on the Internet.” LiveJournal. 7 May 2010. 15 May 2013. http://grrm.livejournal.com/151914.html. McCardle, Meredith. “Fandom, Fan Fiction and Fanfare: What’s All the Fuss?” Boston University Journal of Science and Technology Law 9 (2003): 443-68. Rice, Anne. “Important Message From Anne on ‘Fan Fiction’.” n.d. 15 May 2013. http://www.annerice.com/readerinteraction-messagestofans.html. Scott, Suzanne. “Repackaging Fan Culture: The Regifting Economy of Ancillary Content Models.” Transformative Works and Cultures 3 (2009). http://dx.doi.org/10.3983/twc.2009.0150. Sellors, C. Paul. Film Authorship: Auteurs and Other Myths. London: Wallflower, 2010. Tushnet, Rebecca. “Copyright Law, Fan Practices, and the Rights of the Author.” In Jonathan Gray, Cornel Sandvoss, and C. Lee Harrington, eds., Fandom: Identities and Communities in a Mediated World. New York: New York University Press, 2007. 60-71.