Journal articles on the topic 'David Austin roses'

<strong>Purpose.</strong>&nbsp;To study the drought resistance of plants of English roses varieties. <strong>Methods.</strong>&nbsp;Field, anatomical, biometric. The drought resistance of plants in the field was assessed according to S. S. Pyatnitsky 6-point scale (1961). The number of stomata per unit area of the leaf blade was determined using a JSM-6700F scanning electron microscope (JEOL, Tokyo, Japan).&nbsp; <strong>Results.</strong>&nbsp;The drought resistance of plants of English rose varieties was investigated both in the field and laboratory conditions. According to visual observations, during periods with a low level of moisture supply, leaf turgor did not decrease; therefore, the field drought resistance of all varieties was estimated at 5 points. According to the parameters of stomatal density per unit of leaf area, varieties that have the maximum and minimum values of this indicator were identified. <strong>Conclusions.</strong>&nbsp;It was found that all studied varieties of English roses from the collection of the State Dendrological Park &ldquo;Alexandria&rdquo; of the National Academy of Sciences of Ukraine are quite drought-resistant in the field. But they differed significantly in the density of stomata per unit area. The largest average number of stomata per 0.5 mm²&nbsp;(163.67&plusmn;7.93 pcs.) was recorded in the variety &lsquo;Alan Titchmarsh&rsquo;, the lowest (47.67&plusmn;1.94) &ndash; in &lsquo;Charles Austin&rsquo;. Comparison of data on leaf morphology of English roses and stomata density showed that varieties with smaller leaf sizes (&lsquo;Cottage Rose&rsquo;, &lsquo;Fisherman Friend&rsquo;, &lsquo;Noble Antony&rsquo;, &lsquo;Crocus Rose&rsquo;) have a greater number of stomata per unit area, which indicates their high drought resistance. The data obtained from field and laboratory studies will be taken into account in the formation of recommendations on the use of roses for landscaping urban areas, where plants may find themselves in more extreme conditions than in an arboretum.

<strong>Purpose.</strong>&nbsp;To study the morphological features and determine the biometric indices of leaves of English roses. <strong>Methods.&nbsp;</strong>Field, morphological, descriptive, biometric. Morphological descriptions were carried out in accordance with the Atlas of morphological features of rose varieties (<em>Rosa</em>&nbsp;L.) (2009) and the Illustrated Guide to Flowering Plant Morphology (2004). <strong>Results.&nbsp;</strong>The morphological features of the leaves of English rose varieties were determined. Quantitative (length of complex leaf, number of leaf plates, area of leaflet, total leaf area) and qualitative (leaflet shape, leaflet edge shape, leaflet base shape, leaflet tip) were studied. Varieties of English roses that have maximum and minimum values for these indicators were highlighted. <strong>Conclusions.</strong>&nbsp;The morphological features were revealed and the biometric indicators of the leaves of English roses from the collection of the State Dendrological Park &ldquo;Alexandria&rdquo; NAS of Ukraine were determined. The amplitude of variability of morphological characters of the studied varieties was determined. Peculiarities of the morphological structure and biometric parameters of leaves of English rose varieties can be diagnostic signs for determining varieties within the boundaries of the species. Plants with increased photosynthetic productivity of the leaf apparatus, which is characteristic of the &lsquo;James Galway&rsquo; and &lsquo;A Shropshire Lad&rsquo; varieties, have an advantage in landscaping.

Abstract Combinations of ICB and anti-angiogenesis tyrosine kinase inhibitors (aATKIs) are the mainstay of metastatic ccRCC front line treatment, but heterogenous responses and lack of biomarkers strongly emphasizes the need to understand RCC-specific mechanisms of effective anti-tumor immunity in the treatment context. Although prior work highlights the critical role and heterogeneity of tumor associated macrophages (TAMs) in prognosis and response to ICB and aATKIs, TAM modulation has yet to be tested in RCC. We therefore assessed the impact of TAM depletion using a CSF1R inhibitor (BLZ945) on drug sensitivity in a genetically engineered mouse model (GEMM) of ccRCC, comprising inducible kidney-specific Vhl, p53 and Rb1 deletion (KVpR). Following tamoxifen-induced driver gene deletion, male mice were monitored for multifocal kidney tumor development from 25-52 weeks using micro-ultrasound. Tumors were confirmed and their volumes tracked by weekly MRI imaging. Mice were randomized to receive either no treatment, or single agent Lenvatinib, aPD-1, BLZ945 or combinations. A total of 299 tumors from 86 mice were included in the final analysis. A total of 37 tumors across treatment arms were collected at responsive or resistant time points, for profiling by single cell RNA sequencing (scRNAseq; 10X) to elucidate the underlying mechanisms of response. Surprisingly, we found that TAM depletion negated an effective aPD-1 response. ScRNAseq analysis suggests that this is due to selective depletion of antigen presenting TAMs, and a subsequent striking loss of CD8 T cell presence. Since dendritic cells were not depleted by BLZ945, this suggests that intratumor T cell activation by TAMs is a major mechanism of aPD-1 therapeutic targeting. Beyond enhancement of a conventional CD8 T cell response induced by Lenvatinib and aPD-1, we also highlight the potential roles of type 3 immunity in RCC immune surveillance. Our results emphasize the deleterious impact of pan-macrophage depletion approaches that are currently being deployed in clinical trials with ICB, and highlight the importance of lesser studied immune cell types as promising avenues for future validation as novel biomarkers and targets. Citation Format: Lynda Vuong, Fengshen Kuo, Hui Jiang, Eduardo A. Mascareno, Phillip Rappold, Erich Sabio, Kate Weiss, Andrew Cornish, Stephen Reese, Mojca Adlesic, David Solit, Ian Frew, Oguz Akin, Yingbei Chen, Ming O. Li, Timothy A. Chan, Ari A. Hakimi. Tumor immune microenvironment determinants of response to lenvatinib and a PD-1 blockade in clear cell renal cell carcinoma [abstract]. In: Proceedings of the AACR Special Conference: Advances in Kidney Cancer Research; 2023 Jun 24-27; Austin, Texas. Philadelphia (PA): AACR; Cancer Res 2023;83(16 Suppl):Abstract nr B029.

Abstract STK11 (LKB1) is a tumor suppressor, and loss-of-function mutations contribute to tumorigenesis. Mutations in the STK11 gene (STK11m) are present in ~ 20% of NSCLCs and are associated with poor response to chemotherapy and immune checkpoint inhibition (ICI) resulting in inferior survival outcomes. STK11m tumors are characterized by high oxidative stress/ROS, EMT, enhanced replication stress tolerance, resistance to DNA damage and a highly immunosuppressive tumor microenvironment with limited activation and expansion of anti-tumor CD8 T-cells. AXL, a member of the TAM family of receptor tyrosine kinases, is activated in response to cellular stress such as ROS and hypoxia. AXL expression and activation is associated with EMT and drug resistance, tumor tolerance towards oxidative stress and apoptosis, as well as an immunosuppressed tumor microenvironment. We have previously shown that selective AXL inhibition by bemcentinib potentiated ICI in STK11m NSCLC preclinical models and led to objective clinical response in individuals with STK11m NSCLC receiving bemcentinib and pembrolizumab (NCT03184571). Data from this clinical study, an independent real-world cohort of patients studied at the Haukeland Hospital in Bergen, Norway (REC 45562) and published results1, suggest AXL is expressed in ~ 80% of NSCLCs harboring a STK11m, indicating AXL expression is a characteristic of STK11m NSCLC and confirming that AXL is an attractive target in STK11m NSCLC. Inhibition of AXL in dendritic cells has been shown to increase ICI responses in preclinical models of STK11m NSCLC1. The relative contribution of targeting AXL in STK11m tumor cells vs the tumor microenvironment, and the impact on tumor cells after tumor cell targeting needs further exploration. Transcriptional analysis of STK11m and STK11wt sequences from public datasets, NCT03184571 patients and NSCLC cell lines identified transcriptional signatures consistent with the known roles of STK11 in DNA damage response and immunosuppression. Treatment of STK11m NSCLC cell lines with the AXL inhibitor bemcentinib led to a reduction in the STK11-associated DDR signature and increase in inflammatory signatures demonstrating the impact of AXL targeting on tumor cells. Due to the high unmet medical need in individuals harboring a STK11 mutation, the encouraging efficacy in the NCT03184571 clinical trial and the high incidence of AXL protein expression in STK11m tumors, a global, open-label Phase 1b/2a trial to determine the safety, tolerability and anti-tumor activity of bemcentinib with SOC (pembrolizumab, pemetrexed and carboplatin) in 1L advanced/metastatic non-squamous NSCLC patients with STK11 mutations and no actionable mutations is currently enrolling. The Phase 1b part of the study will evaluate the safety and tolerability of bemcentinib regardless of STK11 status, whereas the Phase 2a part will assess the efficacy in NSCLC patients with STK11 mutations. 1 Li et al., 2022; Cell Rep Med., PMID: 35492873 Citation Format: Magnus Blø, Austin Rayford, Noëlly Madeleine, Fabian Gärtner, Dana Bohan, Natalie Ruggio, Huiyu Li, Luc Girard, Rolf Brekken, John Minna, Marianne Ånerud, Wendy Maury, Claudia Gorcea-Carson, Gro Gausdal, David R. Micklem, Nigel McCracken. AXL as a therapeutic target in STK11 mutant NSCLC [abstract]. In: Proceedings of the American Association for Cancer Research Annual Meeting 2023; Part 1 (Regular and Invited Abstracts); 2023 Apr 14-19; Orlando, FL. Philadelphia (PA): AACR; Cancer Res 2023;83(7_Suppl):Abstract nr 3245.

Many English roses have names related to English people, places, even literary characters. The article devoted to the rose "Anne Boleyn" introduced by English hybridizer David Austin for the UK in 1999. He named this rose after Anne Boleyn, the Queen of England from 1533 to 1536 as the second wife of King Henry VIII. On 7 September 1533, she gave birth to the future Queen Elizabeth I. Given biological characteristic of English Rose Anne Boleyn. The authors describe what happened with Henry VIII, King of England, charming, attractive and even kind, for a member of the Royal family. Yet he is most remembered for being gluttonous, impaired and executing wives (Henry VIII and miscarriages; was it the Kell antigen?). Anne Boleyn is a mysterious figure in history. Queen Anne Boleyn is well-known for playing a key figure in the political and religious transformation in England about 500 years ago. Since her death in 1536, Anne Boleyn has appeared in various artistic mediums, with each decade contributing yet another incarnation of the late queen. Other queens of the world have seen their moments in the spotlight come and go sporadically, but Anne Boleyn remains a constant. The authors write that Anne Boleyn is an intriguing historical figure who has been the subject of many biographies, novels, paintings, films, and television series, a tragic opera "Anna Bolena" (1830) composed by Gaetano Donizetti.

Abstract: The narratives of black writers of Caribbean descent living in Canada provide a useful perspective on blacks and belonging in Canada. Their stories elevate the history and legacy of the Domestic Worker Program which from the 1950s brought young black women from the British Caribbean to Canada.1 This program began in an era when Canada's immigration policies severely restricted Caribbean people from migrating to and settling in Canada. These early immigrants were the forerunners of later streams of black immigrants from around the world. In my reading of a selection of fiction by Austin Clarke, Dionne Brand, Cecil Foster, and David Chariandy, I argue that their narratives show that while immigration policies may have changed, the social positioning and inequalities imposed on the domestics still explain the social roles and positioning of blacks in Canada. These writers speculate whether, historically, the narrative of the black female in Canada is always to be imagined as a domestic.

We would like to thank the following abstract graders for their invaluable time and effort in reviewing abstracts for Scientific Sessions 2011. Brian Abbott Friederike K. Keating Geoffrey Abbott John Kern Evan Abel Karl Kern Benjamin S. Abella Morton Kern Theodore Abraham Amit Khera William T. Abraham Raymond J. Kim Stephan Achenbach Sue Kimm Michael A. Acker Carey D. Kimmelstiel Michael J. Ackerman Jacobo Kirsch David H. Adams Joel Kirsh M. Jacob Adams Lorrie Kirshenbaum Ted Adams Raj Kishore Philip A. Ades Masafumi Kitakaze Gail K. Adler Andre Kleber Sunil K. Agarwal Neil S. Kleiman Frank Aguirre George J. Klein Masood Ahmad Helmut U. Klein Bina Ahmed Liviu Klein Gorav Ailawadi Robert A. Kloner Anthony Aizer Bjorn Knollmann Teiji Akagi Kirk Knowlton Fadi Akar Walter J. Koch Shahab Akhter Wolfgang Koenig Khatib Sana Al Stavros Konstantinides Mark J. Alberts Michael C. Kontos John H. Alexander Bruce A. Koplan Karen P. Alexander Gideon Koren Mo Ali Robert Kormos Larry A. Allen Jane M. Kotchen Norrina B. Allen Frederic Kraemer Matthew A. Allison Itzhak Kronzon Mouaz Al-Mallah Harlan M. Krumholz Diego Alvarez Helmut Kuecherer Aman M. Amanullah Aaron Kugelmass Giuseppe Ambrosio Johan Kuiper Amit P. Amin Marrick L. Kukin Philipe Amouyel Lewis H. Kuller Ezra Amsterdam Lih Kuo Inder S. Anand J. W. Kwang Paul Anaya Wai-meng Kwok Gregor Andelfinger Raymond Kwong Jeffrey Anderson Bonnie Ky Rob Andrews Daniel T. Lackland Stefan Anker Wyman Lai David Antoniucci John J. Lamberti Charles Antzelevitch Rachel J. Lampert Piero Anversa Roberto Lang Ani Anyanwu Alexandra Lansky Lawrence J. Appel Warren K. Laskey Juan Aranda Michael Lauer Paul W. Armstrong Harold L. Lazar Suzanne Arnold Eric Lazartigues James Arrighi Ngoc Anh Le James. Arrowood Linda Leatherbury Takayuki Asahara Jonathan W. Lederer Deborah D. Ascheim Byron K. Lee Euan Ashley Christopher Lee Muhammad Ashraf Richard Lee Samuel Asirvatham Vivien Lee Saira Aslam David J. Lefer Dan Atar Thierry Lefevre Dianne L. Atkins Carl V. Leier Pavan Atluri Larry Leiter Andrew M. Atz Thierry LeJemtel John A. Auchampach Scott Lemaire John Augoustides Robert Lemery Robert Augustyniak Isabelle Lemieux Gerard P. Aurigemma Terry A. Lennie Metin. Avkiran Martin Leon Leon Axel Dario Leosco Philip Aylward Stamatios Lerakis Arnold Baas Annarosa Leri Joseph D. Babb Amir Lerman V L. Babikian Israel E. Lev David Bach Sidney Levitsky Michael Bader Jerrold H. Levy Juan Jose Badimon Martin M. Lewinter Steven R. Bailey Ji Li Alison Baird Qian Hong Li Kenneth Baker Ren-Ke Li Robert Balaban Xia Li Sameer Bansilal James K. Liao Lili A.. Barouch Ronglih Liao Gregory W. Barsness Alice H. Lichtenstein Robyn Barst David S. Liebeskind Philip Barter Chee Lim Matthias Barton Joao A. Lima Jozef Bartunek Marian Limacher Craig Todd Basson Michael A. Lincoff Eric R. Bates cecilia Linde Jeroen Bax Jonathan Lindner Christoph R. Becker Bruce Lindsay Lance Becker Frederick Ling Richard Becker Mark Link Theresa Beckie Harold Litt David Beiser Sheldon Litwin Amber Beitelshees Kiang Liu Romualdo Belardinelli Zhi-ping Liu Souad Belmadani Donald M. Lloyd-Jones David Benditt Thomas Lohmeier Frank Bengel Jamie L. Lohr Emelia Benjamin Nicole Lohr Daniel Bensimhon Dawn Lombardo D Woodrow Benson Barry London Robert Berg Carlin Long Alan Keith Berger Gary. Lopaschuk Wolfgang Bergmeier John J. Lopez Daniel S. Berman Jose Lopez-Sendon Kathy A. Berra Chaim Lotan Jarett D. Berry Pamela Lucchesi Donald M. Bers Jennifer Lucitti Michael Bettmann Russell V. Luepker Deepak Bhakta Xin Ma Deepak Bhatt Michael Mack Giuseppe Bianchi Rachel H. Mackey Andrew Bierhals Nigel Mackman Angelika Bierhaus William R.. MacLellan Yochai Birnbaum Kenneth W. Mahaffey John Bisognano William Mahle John Bittl Ronald V. Maier Vera Bittner Alan S. Maisel Henry Black Amgad N. Makaryus James Blankenship S Christopher Malaisrie Burns Blaxall Marek Malik Kenneth Bloch Ziad Mallat Robert Block Craig Malloy David A. Bluemke Judy Mangion Roger Blumenthal Douglas L. Mann Ben Bobrow Warren Manning John Boehmer Steven Manoukian Eric Boersma Michael S. Marber Bernd Boettiger Francis Marchlinski Rainer. Boger Kenneth Margulies Catherine Boisson Ali J. Marian Steven Bolling Bradley Marino Sebastien Bonnet Cindy M. Martin Munir Boodhwani Thomas Marwick Ebony Bookman Steven O. Marx William B. Borden Frederick A. Masoudi Michael A. Borger Steffen Massberg Karin Bornfeldt Barry Massie Steven Borzak Michael A. Mathier Robert Bourge Khalid Matrougui Scott Bradley Rumiko Matsuoka Kelley Branch Susan Mayer Jerome F. Breen Maritza Mayorga H. Bryan Brewer Manuel Mayr Ralph G. Brindis Pamela McCabe Eliot A. Brinton Patrick M. McCarthy Susan C. Brozena Aileen P. McGinn Charles J. Bruce Darren K. McGuire Benoit Bruneau Sharon McKinley Dirk L. Brutsaert John McMurray Matthew Budoff Elizabeth M. McNally L. Maximilian Buja Colleen McNamara Michael Burch Tim C. McQuinn Gregory L. Burke Calum McRae Lora E. Burke Jean C. McSweeney John C. Burnett Mandeep R. Mehra Mary Susan Burnett Roxana Mehran Alex Bustamante Nehal Mehta Brian Buxton Philippe Menasche Lu Cai Raina Merchant David A. Calhoun Daphne Merkus David Callans John Messenger Clifton W. Callaway Marco Metra James Calvin Joseph Miano David S. Cannom Evangelos D. Michelakis Christopher P. Cannon Jennifer H. Mieres Charles E. Canter William Miles Maurizio Capogrossi Dianna Milewicz Thomas Cappola Alan B. Miller Ronald P. Caputo D. Craig Miller Blase A. Carabello Edgar R. Miller Mercedes Carnethon Fletcher A. Miller Peter Carson John Miller Andrea E. Cassidy-Bushrow Todd D. Miller Tara Catanzano James K. Min Yong-mei Cha Wang Min Alejandro Chade Gary S. Mintz Claudia Chae Sanjay Misra Alan Chait Seema Mital Bernard R. chaitman Judith E. Mitchell Hunter Champion Suneet Mittal Kwan Chan Derek Mittleider Paul S. Chan Peter Mohler Krishnaswamy Chandrasekaran Friedrich Mohr Byung-Chul Chang David Moliterno Gene Chang Kevin Monahan Mary Y. Chang Marc Moon Panithaya Chareonthaitawee Michael A. Moore Israel Charo Fred Morady Seemant Chaturvedi Henning Morawietz Farooq Chaudhry Carlos A. Morillo Jersey Chen David Morrow Jonathan Chen Debra K. Moser Ju Chen Martin Moser Peng-Sheng Chen Arthur J. Moss Xiongwen Chen Jochen Muehlschlegel Yeong-renn Chen Kenneth J. Mukamal Alan Cheng Sharon L. Mulvagh Stanley Chetcuti Srinivas Murali Joseph Cheung Anne M. Murphy Yung-wei Chi Elizabeth Murphy Nipavan Chiamvimonvat Ralph Nachman William Chilian Vinay Nadkarni Michael Chin Sherif Nagueh Julio Chirinos Srihari Naidu Yeon H. Choe Yoshifumi Naka Geir Christensen Sanjiv M. Narayan Sumeet Chugh Andrea Natale Mina Chung Stanley Nattel Timothy Church Mohamad Navab Nadine Clausell L Gabriel Navar David Cohen Saman Nazarian Jerome D. Cohen Stefan Neubauer Marc Cohen Robert Neumar Mauricio Cohen Chris Newton-Cheh Michael V. Cohen Graham Nichol Mitchell Cohen Petros Nihoyannopoulos Lola Coke Konstantin Nikolaou Jamie B. Conti John Nixon Joshua M. Cooper Vuyisile T. Nkomo Lawton S. Cooper Koichi Node Leslie Cooper Detlef Obal Ramon Corbalan Edward R. Obrien James Coromilas Erwin Oechslin Marco Costa Richard G. Ohye Tina Costacou Roberta K. Oka Maria Rosa Costanzo Trevor Orchard William G. Cotts Karen Ordovas Dermot Cox Brian O'Rourke Patricia B. Crane David Orsinelli Michael Crow Kinya Otsu Marina Cuchel Catherine M. Otto Jess D. Curb Francis D. Pagani Jeptha Curtis Julio A. Panza Linda K. Curtiss Gilles Paradis Mary Cushman Rahul Parag Donald E. Cutlip Nisha I. Parikh Haim Danenberg Sahil Parikh Werner G. Daniel Michael S. Parmacek Stephen Daniels Sampath Parthasarathy A Danser Rod S. Passman Dipak K. Das Shailesh Patel Mithilesh K. Das Elizabeth Barnett Pathak James Daubert Cam C. Patterson Harold Dauerman Walter Paulsen Alan Daugherty Daniel F. Pauly Sandra Davidge Thomas A. Pearson Charles J. Davidson Patricia A. Pellikka Sean Davidson Michele M. Pelter Martha Daviglus Matthias Peltz Jean Davignon Constantino Pena Victor G. Davila Karsten Peppel Jonathan Davis John R Pepper Michael E. Davis Muthu Periasamy Buddhadeb Dawn Todd S. Perlstein Lemos James de Louis Perrault Tombe Pieter De Karlheinz Peter Barbara J. Deal Anne Peters G William Dec Nancy Petersen Prakash C. Deedwania Pam Peterson Christopher Defilippi Gbaby Kuster Pfister Curt G. DeGroff Otmar Pfister Elisabeth Deindl Ken Philipson Monte Federica del Robert A. Phillips Etienne Delacretaz Robert Piana Mario Delmar Mariann Piano Judy M. Delp Michael H. Picard Pablo Denes Jonathan P. Piccini Margo Denke August Pichard Christophe Depre J Geoffrey Pickering Albert deRoos Luc Pierard Milind Desai Eduardo Pimenta Nimesh D. Desai Ileana L. Pina Isabelle Deschenes Duane Pinto Jean-Pierre Despres Maria Vittoria Pitzalis Naranjan Dhalla Paul Poirier David Dichek Don Poldermans Gregory Dick Jennifer S. Pollock Timm Dickfeld Piotr Ponikowski Kenneth Dickstein Athena Poppas Sean P. Didion Thomas R. Porter Javier Díez Michael Portman Vasken Dilsizian Mark J. Post J. Michael DiMaio Wendy Post John DiMarco Bunny J. Pozehl Stefanie Dimmeler Ashwin Prakash Thomas G. Disalvo J Howard Pratt Daniel J. Diver Susan Pressler Debra I. Diz Silvia G. Priori Lynn V. Doering Eric N. Prystowsky Feng Dong Lu Qi Michael Donino Gangjian Qin Thomas J. Donohue Federico Quaini Gerald Dorn II Arshed Ali Quyyumi David Dostal Philip Raake Mark Drazner Joseph Rabinowitz Barbara J. Drew Glenn Radice Daniel L. Dries Wolfgang A.K. Radtke Xiaoping Du Gilbert Raff Samuel Dudley Shahbudin H. Rahimtoola Barton Duell Leopoldo Raij Srinivas Dukkipati Danny Ramzy Sandra Dunbar Sunil V. Rao Mark Dunlap Vivek Rao Sue Duval Chitra Ravishankar Vladimir Dzavik Rita Redberg Charles B. Eaton Gautham P. Reddy Robert Eberhardt Jalees Rehman Peter Eckman Nathaniel Reichek Dana Edelson James A. Reiffel Igor Efimov Giuseppe Rengo Brent M. Egan Kristi Reynolds Pirooz Eghtesady Michael W. Rich John Eikelboom Stuart Rich David A. Eisner Barbara J. Riegel Daniel Eitzman Vera Rigolin Kenneth A. Ellenbogen Eric Rimm William J. Elliott Maria Teresa Rizzo Helene Eltchaninoff John Robb Masao Endoh Shamburek Robert Stefan Engelhardt Robert Roberts Marguerite M. Engler Richard J. Rodeheffer Mary B. Engler Carlos J. Rodriguez Mark L. Entman E. Rene R odriguez Sabine Ernst Leonardo Rodriguez Abby Ershow Veronique L. Roger Thomas Eschenhagen Anand Rohatgi Lorraine Evangelista Wayne D. Rosamond Brendan M. Everett Sylvia Rosas Gregg C. Ewald Anne G. Rosenfeld Michael D. Ezekowitz lawrence S.. rosenthal Joan Fair Anthony Rosenzweig Michael E. Farkouh Robert S. Ross Sergio Fazio Noreen Rossi Savitri Fedson Daniel G. Rowland Kenneth Feingold Denis Roy Steven Feinstein Yoseph. Rozenman Frederick Feit Melvyn Rubenfire David Feldman Frederick L. Ruberg Michael Felker Ronen Rubinshtein Michael A. Fifer Marc Ruel Gerasimos S. Filippatos Xiao Ruiping Gregory D. Fink Carlos E. Ruiz Peter Fischbach John S. Rumsfeld Tim Fischell Raymond Russell Avi fischer Martin K. Rutter Jens Fischer Michael Ryan John Fisher Catherine Ryan Jerome Fleg Joseph Sabik John Floras Craig Sable Mark A. Fogel Junichi Sadoshima Gregg C. Fonarow Jeffrey E. Saffitz Myriam Fornage Kiran B. Sagar Elyse Foster David J. Sahn Caroline S. Fox Arwa Saidi Gary S. Francis Shuichi Saito Barry Franklin Hajime Sakuma Stanley S. Franklin Adam C. Salisbury John K. French Habib Samady Matthias G. Friedrich Prashanthan Sanders James Froehlich Stephen Sanders Victor Froelicher John L. Sapp Toshiro Fujita Muhamed Saric Keiichi Fukuda Comilla Sasson William H. Gaasch Jonathan Satin Elena Galkina Jorge Saucedo Erhe Gao William Henry Sauer Timothy J. Gardner Andreas Schaefer Vidu Garg Katrin Schaefer Vesna Garovic Urs Scherrer Daniel J. Garry Valerie Schini-Kerth Meinrad Gawaz David Schneider Raúl J. Gazmuri David Schneider Arnar Geirsson Paul Schoenhagen Romergryko Geocadin U Schoepf Demetrios Georgiou Heribert Schunkert Marie D. Gerhard-Herman Arnold Schwartz Edward P. Gerstenfeld Robert Schwartz Robert Gerszten Dawn Schwenke Godfrey S. Getz Udo Sechtem Jalal K. Ghali Frank Sellke Nancy Ghanayem Elizabeth Selvin Nancy Ghanayem Clay F. Semenkovich Shobha Ghosh Patrick W. Serruys C Michael Gibson Howard D. Sesso Samuel S. Gidding Sanjiv Shah Ian Gilchrist Simon F. Shakar Thomas D. Giles Richard P. Shannon Linda D. Gillam Tali Sharir Lawrence W. Gimple William Sharp Frank J. Giordano Steven Shea Anselm K. Gitt Farah Sheikh Groot Adriana Gittenberger-de Robert S. Sheldon Robert P. Giugliano Win Kuang Shen Kathy Glatter James M. Shikany Christian Gleissner Ken Shinmura Donald D. Glower Takahiro Shiota Prospero B. Gogo Sara J. Shumway Michael R. Gold Horst Sievert Anne C. Goldberg Marc Silver Lee R. Goldberg Robert Simari Ron Goldberg Daniel I. Simon Sidney Goldstein David S. Siscovick Mardi Gomberg-Maitland Mark Slaughter Antoinette Gomes Craig Smith Shaun Goodman Susan Smyth John Gorcsan Dirk Snyders Robert Gorman Christopher Sobey Heather Gornik R John Solaro Stephen S. Gottlieb Andrey Sorokin Abhinav Goyal Vincent L. Sorrell Christopher B. Granger James Sowers Guido Grassi John Spertus Kurt Greenlund Francis G. Spinale Gabriel Gregoratos David Spragg Brian Griffin Monvadi B. Srichai Liliana Grinfeld V.S. Srinivas Garrett J. Gross Austin Stack Eugene Grossi William Stanley P Michael Grossman Randall Starling Peter Gruber Charles Steenbergen, Jr. Eliseo Guallar Philippe Gabriel Steg Yiru Guo Barry Stein Himanshu Gupta Richard A. Stein Michelle Gurvitz Nicolas Stettler David D. Gutterman Alex Stewart T. Sloane Guy Kerry Stewart John R. Guyton Charles T. Stier Tomasz Guzik Arthur Stillman Luis A. Guzman Robert Storey Henry R. Halperin Karen Stout Naomi Hamburg Bradley Strauss Larry Hamm S. Adam Strickberger H. Kirk Hammond Mark A. Sussman Diane E. Handy Gopinath Sutendra Arlene Hankinson Filip K. Swirski Joshua Hare Gabor Szabo Robert Harrington Heinrich Taegtmeyer David Harris Genzou Takemura David Hasdai W Tang Gerd Hasenfuss Wilson Tang Richard Hauer Ahmed Tawakol Ed P. Havranek David Taylor David L. Hayes Doris A. Taylor Laura L. Hayman W Robert Taylor Joachim Hebe Alain Tedgui Robert Hegele Usha Tedrow Paul Heidenreich John R. Teerlink Donald D. Heistad Keurs Hendrik Ter Gary Heller Patricia Thistlethwaite Thomas M. Helle-Valle Charles Thodeti Linda Hemphill Eric Thorin Michel Henry Rong Tian Timothy Henry Henry Ting James Hermiller David Tirschwell Adrian F. Hernandez Akihiro Tojo Ray Hershberger Gordon Tomaselli Roland Hetzer Ronald J. Torry Joseph A. Hill Rhian Touyz Michael Hill Dwight Towler Yoshitaka Hirooka Richard Troughton Irl Hirsch Teresa Tsang Michael Ho Sotirios Tsimikas Vincent B. Ho Jonathan Tune Udo Hoffmann James E. Udelson Brian D. Hoit Philip C. Ursell Maureen Hood Karen Uzark John D. Horowitz Alec Vahanian Steven R. Houser Anne Marie Valente Henry H. Hsia Marco Valgimigli Eileen Hsich Eyk Jennifer Van Daphne T. Hsu Horn Linda Van Spencer C. Huang Heide Richard Vander Sally A. Huber Dorothy Vatner Michael P. Hudson Stephen F. Vatner Mark Huffman Emir Veledar William Hundley Lakshmi Venkitachalam Judy Hung Hector O. Ventura Judy Hung Ralph Verdino Paul M. Hwang Giovanni Veronesi Guido Iaccarino Renu Virmani Ahamed H. Idris Robert A. Vogel John Ikonomidis Jens Vogel-Claussen Erik Ingelsson Adriaan Voors Joanne S. Ingwall Saroja Voruganti Paul A. Insel Raju Vulapalli Joseph Izzo Mary B. Wagner Alice K. Jacobs Ron Waksman Jill Jacobs Andrew Wang Terry A. Jacobson Tracy Wang Michael Jaff Xuejun Wang Allan Jaffe Cary C. Ward Mukesh Jain Carole Warnes Ik-Kyung Jang Keith A. Webster Paul Janssen Dorothee. Weihrauch James Januzzi William Weintraub Valluvan Jeevanandam Neil J. Weissman Nancy S. Jenny Cornelia Weyand Allen Jeremias Grayson Wheatley Michael Jerosh-Herold David Whellan Michael Jessen Samuel A. Wickline Michael Jessen Martin Wilkins Ishwarlal Jialal Stephen D. Wiviott Bingbing Jiang Michael Wolin Kai Jiao Kai C. Wollert Suk-Won Jin Anna Woo Roy John Mary Woo Andrew Johnson Y Joseph Woo Jason L. Johnson Malissa Wood W. Schuyler Jones Marcella A. Wozniak Pedro Jose Joseph C. Wu Jerome Jouan Joseph C. Wu Corrine Jurgens Katherine Wu Edmond Kabagambe Sean M. Wu Alan H. Kadish George Wyse Mark Kahn Chen Yan Jan Kajstura Yu Yan Sanjeeva Kalva Demetris Yannopoulos Michael Kapiloff Karen S. Yehle Norman Kaplan Liya Yin Navin Kapur James B. Young Hrayr Karagueuzian Chun Yuan Richard H. Karas Doron Zahger Joel Karliner Mengwei Zang Edward Kasper Julie J. Zerwic Robert Kass David Zhang Prasad Katakam Hao Zhang Sekar Kathiresan Yanqiao Zhang Zvonimir S. Katusic Jie Zheng Amos Katz Michael R. Zile John Kaufman Ronald Zolty Martin Keane Irving H. Zucker

There was a moment just after September 11, 2001, that many commentators heralded the end of our celebrity obsessions and the emergence of a new sobriety in politics and culture. We had the mediated version of atonement when the famous presented their most serious sides for television specials in support of the families of the victims of the September 11 attacks. But within a matter of weeks the celebrity industry was back on its old track – salacious rumors about J-Lo and her movement through the entertainment industry A-List, further debates about the propriety of Michael Jackson’s behaviour, Demi Moore’s new love interest Ashton Kutcher – who is and was young enough to be her son and so on. The machine and industry that had been in place tested whether it could continue its dance with public intimacy and private turmoils of the rich and famed. Fame is both fickle and incredibly enduring. It relies on a public individual’s connection to an audience and how that persona can embody some form of affective investment (Marshall, Celebrity and Power). Audience’s loyalty can migrate, but the machinery of fame can produce new variations for newly minted moments of affection or even its opposite, intense dislike. What is enduring is the process. There is the manufacture of celebrities and stars that were produced with regularity by the old movie studios in the first half of the twentieth century that are now produced with astonishing levels of success through the current array of reality/game shows via television. Beyond these public variations, there is the will-to-fame that is expressed by the various webcam sites and weblogs where a new era of public narcissism is mutating with new media forms. This issue deals with fame; but it is not alone. The academy has embraced the study of celebrity and fame over the last decade and it has accelerated in recent years. Sport stardom (Andrews and Jackson), film stardom (Austin and Barker), literary celebrity (Moran; Glass), journalism and celebrity (Ponce de Leon; Marshall, “Intimately Intertwined”), the psychology of fame (Giles), and media and the celebrity (Turner; Marshall, Celebrity and Power) have appeared as full-fledged books with the regularity that echoes the celebrity system’s own production process. This burgeoning interest in fame cuts across disciplinary study in surprising ways. Chris Rojek’s discussion of religion and celebrity is but one interesting recent variation in the study of fame (Rojek). The interest in this issue has been impressive and, for an editor, at times overwhelming. Nonetheless, we have collected an intriguing array of articles to advance the study of fame and to engage with the way it reflects and refracts the complex crystalline structure of popular culture. Understanding fame demands a form of perceptive interdisciplinarity that our group of 18 authors has worked to achieve. Gerard Goggin and Christopher Newell’s article on how Christopher Reeve’s fame has transformed and disciplined international debates on disability to narrowly focus on the agenda of the “cure” serves as our feature article. The article paints a fascinating picture on the reconstruction of this particular dimension of the public sphere via the agency of a persona. Goggin and Newell’s writing is particularly valuable to understand the legacy of Reeve since his recent death and how it will continue to shape the concepts of disability for years if not decades to come. Dealing with Ziggy Stardust, the contrived fictional star that Bowie incarnated in the early 1970s, allows Suzanne Rintoul to work through how celebrity and fame provide a discursive narrative that can be the source for performance of the public self. Bowie plays with ironic distance that is understood as a debate about authenticity in a way that is implicitly understood as a trope of contemporary popular culture and the audience’s understanding of popular figures. William Tregonning explains that authenticity remains a central feature of how the famed – in popular music at the very least – refer to their identities. Via Britney Spears, Jennifer Lopez and Christine Aguilera, the author weaves a reading of their moments of their publicly reported self-reflection that entreats their audiences to understand their desire to be seen as real and identical to their pre-famous identities despite/because of their heavily hyped and inauthentic pop presence. Jonathan Goldman’s reading of Charlie Chaplin provides one of the more fascinating intertextual readings of how the famed persona can be used and turned back towards the production of the film narrative and how it can be read by audiences. Goldman deftly reads the closing image of the film Modern Times as an epigraph that identifies how the extratextual of celebrity and persona flow back into informing the reading of an actor’s work. And all of this “work” is done quite consciously by Chaplin as his own persona – his “trademark” as tramp – can work as a powerful shorthand for his films. Gordon Fletcher provides an entry point to determine the extent and reach of fame through a study of the frequency with which different public figures’ names are used in Internet searches. Fletcher’s work presents “an index of fame” as these particular personalities intersect with the promotional culture’s intentions via releases and with specific events that have clear connections to public individuals. The Web serves as a way to map these cultural trends in a manner that was more difficult to undertake in the past. Reality television internationally has produced famous people with astounding regularity and three of our authors have tried to address the way in which television practices have articulated fame and celebritydom. Su Holmes’s inspection of reality television programmes explicates that the production of the celebrity is revealed as much as traditional notions of earning one’s acclaim through talent, hard work and understanding the industry. Tom Mole’s “hypertrophic celebrity” refers to the way that the entertainment industry via reality television has engaged in many more ways of promoting and cross-promoting individuals through a variety of technologies and “intertextual networks”. Ultimately, it is the formats that have been more successful and sustained than any individual star that is created and quickly disappears. Mole indicates that observing this element of celebrity culture reveals a great deal about the new machinations of sophistication of the entertainment industry. Douglas Fairchild’s study of Australian Idol dovetails into Mole’s insights. One of the lacunae of research in popular music, according to Fairchild, is the operation of public relations in musical cultural production. Fairchild draws on research that discusses how the “attention economy” wraps around contemporary cultural production through the techniques of publicity and public relations to deepen their significance and play in popular culture. The decline in recorded music – or its change to downloading – has demanded a refocusing of an industry to make particular individuals as entertainment stars that move between the media of television and music (and other cultural forms and venues if possible) and thereby produce a strong divertissement for the attention economy. Fame and infamy blur in David Schmid’s study of the collection of serial killer memorabilia online. Collectors are condemned for their fascination, but contemporary culture’s relationship to the fetish objects of infamy demands a more careful reading. Schmid relates the fascination with how central serial killers are to the celebrity system and “America” and become prominent idols for consumption – to paraphrase Leo Lowenthal. In three of our articles, artistic practices are investigated but from quite different perspectives. It seems almost de rigeur to have some mention of Andy Warhol in an issue devoted to fame. Michael Angelo Tata’s work moves laterally (which is always appropriate for Warhol…) along the surface of Warhol to debate his ruminations of the fabrication of the self through his fascination and play with the world of modeling. Davin Heckman explores the production of persona not through the extensions of fame provided by contemporary mass media, but rather through the intensive production of graffiti tags in Los Angeles by the irrepressible “Chaka”. Heckman’s study of fame makes us think how the enigmatic can be played out in a geographical space (contemporary Los Angeles) that is inundated with the production of other images of fame. Carrie LeBlanc’s analysis of the British celebrity-artist Damien Hirst attempts to tread the line between the value of the artist persona to the meaning of artistic practice and what we could now call – thanks to Fairchild’s article in this issue – the ‘attention economy’ that circulates around the meaning of the artist and art work. Celebrity is integral to the interpretation of Hirst and his working class persona is integral to his play in British media as much as the meaning of his shock-art. The Harry Potter phenomenon has produced a number of famed individuals, from its author to the actors associated with the three principal roles; but this fame presents an elaborate textual field that becomes the territory of fan fiction. Lelia Green and Carmen Guinery investigate the permutations of fame that envelope fan fiction and provide one of the motivations for fan fiction authors and the expansion of their influence among fan groups. Fame is a kind of moving signification system that draws on popular culture fragments and elements to buttress the centrality of its various personalities. Mohmin Rahman has posited that David Beckham’s fame in both photos in magazines and in descriptions of his body rely knowingly on queer iconography but only as a surface meaning system. Ultimately, Beckham after playing with the codes of queer must reassert the bedrock of his identity through heterosexuality; nonetheless, Rahman identifies the uses made of queer representations in displaying the male sporting hero in the most coded way. The last two articles deal with the politics of fame and its projections on to obvious personas. Paul Allatson writes a wonderful review of the existent but non-existent Elián Gonzalez and how the virtual Elián is deployed as a persona for all sorts of positions in the United States and Cuba for specific political ends. As much as Elián was converted and passed between countries, the virtual Elián becomes a vessel for the construction of a variety of political postures that can be framed in national desires and ethnic ambitions. Kevin Howley, drawing insights from the remarkable reincarnation of the legacy of Reagan through his death and funeral, provides an outline of how the myth of the famed president is maintained and actively fostered by a variety of groups. Embedded in the production of Reagan in death is his originary filmic persona, transplanted into the Teflon presidency and finally into a conservative politics of the future of the right. This collection on the concept of fame provides an intellectual gestalt of the some of the tropes that circulate around the production of public personalities. The ephemeral nature of fame means that it can be attached to and detached from individuals relatively easily. Fame is surface meaning that may correlate with deeper issues and more profound essences, but fundamentally fame is designed to be a play on the surface and to allow that surface pattern to circulate widely across a culture or, on occasion, transculturally. Fame moves readily and easily between the domains of the public and the private for public consumption. Reading the production of fame is a reading of popular culture itself as it is reproduced and expanded via its various forms of mediation. In this issue of M/C Journal, we can see the dispositifs of how public identities – the material instances of fame production – refract publics and popular desires. Dig into the various narratives of fame that these 16 articles present – they are both intellectually challenging and – in the wonderful tradition of M/C Journal – great reads as well. References Andrews, David, and Steven Jackson (eds.). Sport Stars: The Cultural Politics of the Sporting Celebrity. London: Routledge, 2001. Austin, Thomas and Martin Barker (eds.). Contemporary Hollywood Stardom. London: Edward Arnold, 2003. Glass, Loren. Authors Inc: Literary Celebrity in the Modern United States. New York: New York UP, 2004. Marshall, P. David. “Intimately Intertwined in the Most Public Way: Celebrity and Journalism.” Journalism: Critical Issues. Ed. Stuart Allen. Maidenhead, Berkshire, UK: McGraw-Hill/Open UP, 2005. 19-29 Marshall, P. David. Celebrity and Power: Fame in Contemporary Culture. U of Minnesota P, 1997. Moran, Joe. Star Authors: Literary Celebrity in America. Pluto Press, 2000. Ponce De Leon, Charles S. Self-Exposure: Human Interest Journalism and the Emergence of Celebrity in America, 1890-1940. Chapel Hill, N.C.: U of North Carolina P, 2002. Rojek, Chris. Celebrity. London: Reaktion, 2001. Turner, Graeme. Understanding Celebrity. London: Sage, 2004. Citation reference for this article MLA Style Marshall, P. David. "Fame's Perpetual Moment." M/C Journal 7.5 (2004). echo date('d M. Y'); ?&gt; &lt;http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0411/01-editorial.php&gt;. APA Style Marshall, P. (Nov. 2004) "Fame's Perpetual Moment," M/C Journal, 7(5). Retrieved echo date('d M. Y'); ?&gt; from &lt;http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0411/01-editorial.php&gt;.

06–743Amador moreno, Carolina, stephanie o'riordan &amp; angela chambers (U de Extremadura, Spain; camador@unex.es), Integrating a corpus of classroom discourse in language teacher education: The case of discourse markers. ReCALL (Cambridge University Press) 18.1 (2006), 83–104.06–744Arnold, Ewen (U Leeds, UK; mahakand@omantel.net.om), Assessing the quality of mentoring: Sinking or learning to swim?ELT Journal (Oxford University Press) 60.2 (2006), 117–124.06–745Cary, Lisa J. &amp; Stuart Reifel (U Texas-Austin, USA), Cinematic landscapes of teaching: Lessons from a narrative of classic film, Action in Teacher Education (Association of Teacher Educators) 27.3 (2005), 95–109.06–746Commins, Nancy L. &amp; Ofelia B. Miramontes (U Colorado-Boulder, USA), Addressing linguistic diversity from the outset. Journal of Teacher Education (Sage) 57.3 (2006), 240–246.06–747Donnelly, Anna M. (Washington College, USA), Let me show you my portfolio! Demonstrating competence through peer interviews. Action in Teacher Education (Association of Teacher Educators) 27.3 (2005), 55–63.06–748Ellis, Elizabeth Margaret (U New England, Australia; liz.ellis@une.edu.au), Language learning experience as a contributor to ESOL teacher cognition. TESL-EJ (http://www.tesl-ej.org) 10.1 (2006), 26 pp.06–749Ezer, Hanna (Levinsky College of Education, Israel), Shoshy Millet &amp; Dorit Pakin, Multicultural perspectives in the curricula of two colleges of education in Israel: ‘The curriculum is a cruel mirror of our society’. Teachers and Teaching: Theory and Practice (Routledge/Taylor &amp; Francis) 12.4 (2006), 391–406.06–750Farrel, Thomas (Brock U, Canada; tfarrell@brocku.ca), The first year of language teaching: Imposing order. System (Elsevier) 34.2 (2006), 211–221.06–751Garrido, Cecilia &amp; Inma Álvarez (The Open U, UK), Language teacher education for intercultural understanding. European Journal of Teacher Education (Routledge/Taylor &amp; Francis) 29.2 (2006), 163–179.06–752Goker, Suleyman Davut (Eastern Mediterranean U, Turkey; suleyman.goker@emu.edu.tr), Impact of peer coaching on self-efficacy and instructional skills in TEFL teacher education. System (Elsevier) 34.2 (2006), 239–254.06–753Grant, Carl A. (U Wisconsin-Madison, USA) &amp; Maureen Gillette, A candid talk to teacher educators about effectively preparing teachers who can teach everyone's children. Journal of Teacher Education (Sage) 57.3 (2006), 292–299.06–754Jones, Phyllis (U South Florida, USA; pjones@banshee.sar.usf.edu), Elizabeth West &amp; Dana Stevens, Nurturing moments of transformation in teachers – Comparative perspectives on the challenges of professional development. British Journal of Special Education (Blackwell) 33.2 (2006), 82–90.06–755Kupetz, Rita &amp; Birgit zeigenmeyer (U Hannover, Germany; Rita.Kupetz@anglistik.uni-hannover.de), Flexible learning activities fostering autonomy in teaching training. ReCALL (Cambridge University Press) 18.1 (2006), 63–82.06–756Kwan, Tammy &amp; Francis Lopez-Real (U Hong Kong, China), Mentors' perceptions of their roles in mentoring student teachers. Asia-Pacific Journal of Teacher Education (Routledge/Taylor &amp; Francis) 33.3 (2005), 275–287.06–757Lenski, Susan Davis (Portland State U, USA), Kathleen Crawford, Thomas Crumpler &amp; Corsandra Stallworth, Preparing pre-service teachers in a diverse world. Action in Teacher Education (Association of Teacher Educators) 27.3 (2005), 3–12.06–758Martin, Andrew J. (U Western Sydney, Australia), The relationship between teachers' perceptions of student motivation and engagement and teachers' enjoyment of and confidence in teaching. Asia-Pacific Journal of Teacher Education (Routledge/Taylor &amp; Francis) 34.1 (2006), 73–93.06–759Mayer, Diane (U California, USA), The changing face of the Australian teaching profession: New generations and new ways of working and learning. Asia-Pacific Journal of Teacher Education (Routledge/Taylor &amp; Francis) 34.1 (2006), 57–71.06–760McCormack, Ann, Jennifer Gore &amp; Kaye Thomas (U Newcastle, Australia), Early career teacher professional learning. Asia-Pacific Journal of Teacher Education (Routledge/Taylor &amp; Francis) 34.1 (2006), 95–113.06–761Olson, Susan J. &amp; Carol Werhan (U Akron, USA), Teacher preparation via on-line learning: A growing alternative for many. Action in Teacher Education (Association of Teacher Educators) 27.3 (2005), 76–84.06–762Otero, Valerie K. (U Colorado-Boulder, USA), Moving beyond the ‘get it or don't’ conception of formative assessment. Journal of Teacher Education (Sage) 57.3 (2006), 240–246.06–763Phelan, Anne M. (U British Columbia, Canada), Russell Sawa, Constance Barlow, Deborah Hurlock, Katherine Irvine, Gayla Rogers &amp; Florence Myrick, Violence and subjectivity in teacher education. Asia-Pacific Journal of Teacher Education (Routledge/Taylor &amp; Francis) 34.2 (2006), 161–179.06–764Rantz, Frédérique (Kildare Education Centre, Ireland), Exploring intercultural awareness in the primary modern language classroom: The potential of the new model of European language portfolio developed by the Irish Modern Languages in Primary Schools Initiative (MLPSI). Language and International Communication (Multilingual Matters) 5.3&amp;4 (2005), 209–221.06–765Reid, Jo-Anne &amp; Ninetta Santoro (Charles Sturt U, Australia), Cinders in snow? Indigenous teacher identities in formation. Asia-Pacific Journal of Teacher Education (Routledge/Taylor &amp; Francis) 34.2 (2006), 143–160.06–766Reis-Jorge, José M. (Instituto Superior de Educação e Ciências, Portugal), Developing teachers' knowledge and skills as researchers: A conceptual framework. Asia-Pacific Journal of Teacher Education (Routledge/Taylor &amp; Francis) 33.3 (2005), 303–319.06–767Richardson, Paul W. &amp; Helen M. G. Watt (Monash U, Australia), Who chooses teaching and why? Profiling characteristics and motivations across three Australian universities. Asia-Pacific Journal of Teacher Education (Routledge/Taylor &amp; Francis) 34.1 (2006), 27–56.06–768Romano, Molly (U Arizona, USA), Assessing and meeting the needs of pre-service teachers: A programmatic perspective. Action in Teacher Education (Association of Teacher Educators) 27.3 (2005), 40–54.06–769Ruan, Jiening &amp; Sara Ann Beach (U Oklahoma, USA), Using online peer dialogue journaling to promote reflection in elementary pre-service teachers. Action in Teacher Education (Association of Teacher Educators) 27.3 (2005), 64–75.06–770Shaw, Carla Cooper (Northern Illinois U, USA) &amp; Deborah Dobbins Nederhouser, Reel teachers: References for reflection for real teachers. Action in Teacher Education (Association of Teacher Educators) 27.3 (2005), 85–94.06–771Shin, Sarah (U Maryland Baltimore County, USA), Learning to teach writing through tutoring and journal writing. Teachers and Teaching: Theory and Practice (Routledge/Taylor &amp; Francis) 12.3 (2006), 325–345.06–772Smith, Erica (Charles Sturt U, Australia), A rich tapestry: Changing views of teaching and teaching qualifications in the vocational education and training sector. Asia-Pacific Journal of Teacher Education (Routledge/Taylor &amp; Francis) 33.3 (2005), 339–351.06–773Smith, Kari &amp; Lilach Lev-Ari (Oranim Academic College of Education, Israel), The place of the practicum in pre-service teacher education: The voice of the students. Asia-Pacific Journal of Teacher Education (Routledge/Taylor &amp; Francis) 33.3 (2005), 289–302.06–774Stern, Lesa A. (Southern Illinois U, USA; Lstern@siue.edu) &amp; Amanda Solomon, Effective faculty feedback: The road less travelled. Assessing Writing (Elsevier) 11.1 (2006), 22–41.06–775Tate, Patricia, Curtis Pyke, Karen Kortecamp (The George Washington U, USA) &amp; CarolMuskin, Developing an ethical orientation toward supervisory practice through collaborative case writing. Action in Teacher Education (Association of Teacher Educators) 27.3 (2005), 13–25.06–776Tin, Tan Bee (U Auckland, New Zealand; tb.tin@auckland.ac.nz), Investigating the nature of ‘interest’ reported by a group of postgraduate students in an MA in English language teacher education programme. System (Elsevier) 34.2 (2006), 222–238.06–777Vick, Malcolm (James Cook U, Australia), ‘It's a difficult matter’: Historical perspectives on the enduring problem of the practicum in teacher preparation. Asia-Pacific Journal of Teacher Education (Routledge/Taylor &amp; Francis) 34.2 (2006), 181–198.06–778Walsh, Steve (Queens U Belfast, UK), Talking the talk of the TESOL classroom. ELT Journal (Oxford University Press) 60.2 (2006), 133–141.06–779Wasburn-Moses, Leah (Miami U, Ohio, USA), Preparing special educators for secondary positions. Action in Teacher Education (Association of Teacher Educators) 27.3 (2005), 26–39.06–780Wubbels, Theo (Utrecht U, the Netherlands), Perry Den Brok, Letje Veldman&amp;Jan Van Tartvijk, Teacher interpersonal competence for Dutch secondary multicultural classrooms. Teachers and Teaching: Theory and Practice (Routledge/Taylor &amp; Francis) 12.4 (2006), 407–433.06–781Yee Fan Tang, Sylvia, May May Hung Cheng &amp; Winnie Wing Mui So (Hong Kong Institute of Education, China), Supporting student teachers' professional learning with standards-referenced assessment. Asia-Pacific Journal of Teacher Education (Routledge/Taylor &amp; Francis) 34.2 (2006), 223–244.

‘Country’ is a word that is made to do much discursive work. In one common configuration, country is synonymous with ‘rural’, also evinced through terms like countryside and country-minded. Yet, at the same time, country is synonymous with ‘nation’. This usage is more emotive and identificatory than administrative, as in ‘my country’, ‘my land’, ‘my homeland’. Augmenting a sense of national allegiance, this use of country evokes something of the connection between people, landscape, belonging, identity and subjectivity. Moreover, country-as-rural(ity) and country-as-nation(ality) have significant overlaps. The rural landscape – the countryside – is often imagined as the ‘heartland’ of the modern Western nation-state – a source of national identity and a storehouse for values ‘lost’ through the experience of progress, modernity and industrialisation (Bell). Here, the countryside, supposedly, is a traditional material and discursive site for family, community and well-being (Little and Austin). From yet another angle, country is a genre or style, as in country music, country and western film, country living, country comfort and country cooking. In this way, country becomes a commercial selling point and a commodified imaginary – although this is not at all mutually exclusive with the evocation of belonging, identity and national cultural values through the countryside. This commodification is seen in the recent revaluing of country getaways (McCarthy), sea-change (Burnley and Murphy) and tree-change (Costello), which in turn invokes the notion of country as a store of traditional values, moral restoration and physical revitalisation. Clearly, then, these multifaceted invocations of country – as rurality, nationality and commodity – interleave and overlap in various and complex ways. The papers comprising this issue of M/C Journal seek to explore the intermingling discourses of country, and how these have changed (and continue to change) over time and between places. Indeed, many of these meanings have heightened importance in the present cultural and political moment, and the contents of the papers draw attention to these emerging currencies. Country-as-nation(ality) – and as homeland – is reinforced in the current context of social unrest around terror, security, minority political rights, and climate change threats. And as people search for anchors of security, reinvestments are made in the ‘authenticity’ of rurality and rural communities as sources of both personal respite and wider national cultural values. This has flow on effects in the sphere of the cultural economy, where country living, rustic style and bucolic retreats are increasingly sought by cultural consumers. These affiliations between country, nation, rurality, security, community and consumption are critically interrogated in the subsequent papers. One key theme elicited across the collection is how country – as style, commodity, rurality and/or nationality – shapes social and cultural identities. Annabel Cooper, Chris Gibson, Loria Maxwell and Kara Stooksbury, Anthony Lambert and Catherine Simpson, and Andrew Gorman-Murray, explore the links between country and national identities, and how these interconnections take both similar and different contours across the United States, Europe and the Antipodes. In their papers, Cooper and Gibson also consider the connections between national identities, country style and gendered subjectivities. Simpson and Lambert, Michael Wesch and Clemence Due, meanwhile, draw attention to the links between land, country and Indigenous subjectivities. In doing so, Due and Lambert and Simpson, as well as Lelia Green, Gerry Bloustien and Mark Balnaves, elicit how discourses of country exclude particular identities, and leave certain social groups with a sense of unease. Terry Maybury, Donna Lee Brien and Jesse Schlotterbeck focus on the broader intermingling of rurality, regionality and identity. Another key theme traced through the papers is how county is also linked with a range of media and cultural commodities. Country music is most well-known in this regard, but also prominent are country and western films and country cooking. Several authors in this collection – Gibson, Maxwell and Stooksbury, and Brien – show the ongoing importance of these products, and their role in linking different notions of country across the scales and sites of the rural, the national and the transnational. Cooper, Schlotterbeck, and Lambert and Simpson reveal how ideas of country seep into films not specifically designated as country films, such as the noir, period and thriller genres. The deployment of country in a range of other cultural and media products is explored in this collection as well, including print news media (Due; Gorman-Murray), tourist promotions (Brien; Gorman-Murray), archival photographs (Gorman-Murray), statecraft (Wesch), and social mores and practices of belonging, attachment and alienation (Green et al; Maybury). Importantly, then, the papers in this collection, drawing on a range of data, entry points and conceptual lenses, explore the way different meanings and scales country overlap, and how notions of country ‘travel’ between places and contexts, in the process transforming and taking on new inflections. In the lead paper, Annabel Cooper explores the way country, national identities and feminine subjectivities come together in Jane Campion’s Portrait of a Lady. In this evocative discussion she shows how gender is modulated by national identities as much as other subjectivities, and moreover, how the insertion of an Antipodean femininity in the film version of Portrait reworked the geographical underpinnings of Henry James’ novel. She argues that the United States’ national self-imagination has moved on in the century between the novel and the film, and that Campion rearticulated the story through a feminine Antipodean lens. In Campion’s Portrait, notions of country and narratives of national femininities travel not only between the United States and Europe, but between the Americas and the Antipodes as well. Chris Gibson provides a complementary piece. Focusing on the imagery and lyrics of country sheet music in pre-war Australia, he shows how masculinities are inflected by discourses of both country-as-rurality and country-as-nation. In this case, images of masculinities from the American West insinuated into Australia through the trans-Pacific transaction of country music, particularly in the simultaneously visual and oral register of sheet music. For both Gibson and Cooper, country, whether associated with rurality or nationality, is not singularly emplaced, but travels transnationally as well. Lori Maxwell and Kara Stooksbury also turn their attention to country music. In their case the focus is contemporary country music in the United States, and the role this genre and its artists has played in recent American political culture, particularly Republican positions on ‘love of country’ and national allegiance. Their analysis shows how country, as a commodity linked with a particular species of rurality, is used by presidents, politicians and commentators to frame discourses of patriotic nationalism and appropriate notions of American belonging. Also focusing on cultural production in the United States’ context, Jesse Schlotterbeck critically examines the diverse roles of rurality and rural places in film noir, helping to define a subgenre of ‘rural noir’. He not only discusses the deployment of the rural in noir as a place of goodness, decency and traditional values, but also how the rural is simultaneously drawn into networks of crime, and even becomes a haven for criminality. This adds to work which challenges the romantic idyllisation of the countryside as a site of moral integrity and a store of ‘proper’ national cultural values. Anthony Lambert and Catherine Simpson similarly raise the spectre of criminality in the countryside through film analysis, but their focus is on the Australian film Jindabyne and the associated geographical context of the Australian Alps. The issues around criminality and country(side) in their analysis is broader than legal transcendence, encompassing contemporary cultural politics and social justice. Jindabyne’s narrative focus on the murder of a young Aboriginal woman provides a catalyst for interrogating Indigenous dispossession, postcolonial race relations, environmental change, and the shifting senses of belonging to country for settler Australians negotiating this ‘aftermath culture’. Andrew Gorman-Murray also concentrates on the Australian Alps, and explores the changing links between this countryside and national identity in a postcolonial settler society, but his cultural political context and catalyst are different: the threats to landscape, country and national values from imminent climate change impacts in the Australian Alps. Cultural dimensions and meanings of climate change are an emerging and important research concern (Hulme), and his analysis demonstrates how national identities and ideals of country(side) are reconfigured through the anticipated effects of climate change on the landscape. The next few papers turn to minority or Indigenous social groups’ belonging and attachment to country, both as nation and (home)land, through various experiences of insecurity. Lelia Green, Gerry Bloustien and Mark Balnaves discuss their survey finding that Jewish-Australians express the highest level of fear amongst religious groups in this country. Analysing both survey responses and additional narratives, they comprehensively interpret this heightened fear through intersecting contemporary processes of terror, insecurity, anti-Semitism, and diasporic community-formation, which collide in the context of cultural and political rhetoric about national homeland security. Complimenting both this paper and Simpson and Lambert’s discussion, Clemence Due considers the vexed question of who can lay claim to country in Australia – understood at-once as the nation, the rural countryside, and its resources – in the cultural political context of Indigenous dispossession and native title issues. She examines how this debate – about negotiating Indigenous rights to country in a political and legal context of white sovereignty – has been depicted in The Australian during 2008. Michael Wesch explores similar tensions between government authority and Indigenous sovereignty in a different context, that of New Guinea. His ethnographic analysis is evocative, showing the quite different concepts of country deployed by the state and local peoples in relation to land, settlement and governance, where Indigenous relational connections to land and belonging rub up against the categorical imperatives of statecraft. The final two papers return to rural and regional areas of Australia, and consider embodied connections to place for settler Australians. Situating her discussion within the academic arenas of food studies and the cultural economy, Donna Lee Brien provides an illuminating analysis of the role and significance of rural and regional chefs within their local communities. Her geographical focus is Armidale and Guyra, in northern New South Wales. Linking country as a generic commodity and as a rural locality, she shows how ‘foodie culture’ is not merely a tourist drawcard, but also deeply implicated in the maintenance of the local community. Terry Maybury, meanwhile, delivers a provocative discussion of the links between country, regionality and belonging through a diagrammatical analysis of ‘home’ – home understood as both “the virtuality of digital flows and the reality of architectural footings.” In this conceptualisation, home provides a nexus for self in a global/regional network, the site which allows one to gather the various elements, scales and nuances of country together in a comprehensible fashion. Home, in this way, lies at the heart of country, and makes sense of all its multifarious and interleaving dimensions and meanings. I would also like to acknowledge and thank Rohan Tate, our cover artist, for providing a photographic montage of ‘country’ which draws together the various strands explored through this collection – as nationality, rurality and commodity. The collection of various signifiers and objects prompts one to question what country is and where it is to be found. I extend thanks to those who reviewed the submissions for this issue. I trust the readers find this collection of papers as stimulating as I have. I hope the juxtaposition of various takes on country, and discussions of how those meanings and experiences intermingle, prompt further exploration and conceptualisation of the discursive and material significance of country in contemporary society and culture. References Bell, David. “Variations on the Rural Idyll.” Handbook of Rural Studies. Eds. Paul Cloke, Terry Marsden and Patrick Mooney. London: Sage, 2006. 149-160. Burnley, Ian and Peter Murphy. Sea Change: Movement from Metropolitan to Arcadian Australia. Sydney: UNSW Press, 2004. Costello, Lauren. “Going bush: the implications of urban-rural migration.” Geographical Research 45.1 (2007): 85-94. Hulme, Mike. “Geographical work at the boundaries of climate change.” Transactions of the Institute of British Geographers 33.1 (2008): 5-11. Little, Jo and Patricia Austin. “Women and the Rural Idyll.” Journal of Rural Studies 12.1 (1996): 101-111. McCarthy, James. “Rural Geography: Globalizing the Countryside.” Progress in Human Geography 32.1 (2008): 129-137.

07–91Almaguer, Isela (The U Texas-Pan American, USA), Effects of dyad reading instruction on the reading achievement of Hispanic third-grade English language learners. Bilingual Research Journal (National Association for Bilingual Education) 29.3 (2005), 509–526.07–92Almarza, Dario J. (U Missouri-Columbia, USA), Connecting multicultural education theories with practice: A case study of an intervention course using the realistic approach in teacher education. Bilingual Research Journal (National Association for Bilingual Education) 29.3 (2005), 527–539.07–93Arkoudis, Sophie (U Melbourne, Australia), Negotiating the rough ground between ESL and mainstream teachers. International Journal of Bilingual Education and Bilingualism (Multilingual Matters) 9.4 (2006), 415–433.07–94Arteagoitia, Igone, Elizabeth R. Howard, Mohammed Louguit, Valerie Malabonga &amp; Dorry M. Kenyon (Center for Applied Linguistics, USA), The Spanish developmental contrastive spelling test: An instrument for investigating intra-linguistic and crosslinguistic influences on Spanish-spelling development. Bilingual Research Journal (National Association for Bilingual Education) 29.3 (2005), 541–560.07–95Branum-Martin, Lee (U Houston, USA; Lee.Branum-Martin@times.uh.edu),Paras D. Mehta, Jack M. Fletcher, Coleen D. Carlson, Alba Ortiz, Maria Carlo &amp; David J. Francis, Bilingual phonological awareness: Multilevel construct validation among Spanish-speaking kindergarteners in transitional bilingual education classrooms. Journal of Educational Psychology (American Psychological Association) 98.1 (2006), 170–181.07–96Brown, Clara Lee (The U Tennessee, Knoxville, USA), Equity of literacy-based math performance assessments for English language learners. Bilingual Research Journal (National Association for Bilingual Education) 29.2 (2005), 337–363.07–97Callahan, Rebecca M. (U Texas, USA), The intersection of accountability and language: Can reading intervention replace English language development?Bilingual Research Journal (National Association for Bilingual Education) 30.1 (2006), 1–21.07–98Cavallaro, Francesco (Nanyang Technological U, Singapore), Language maintenance revisited: An Australian perspective. Bilingual Research Journal (National Association for Bilingual Education) 29.3 (2005), 561–582.07–99Cheung, Alan &amp; Robert E. Slavin (Center for Data-Driven Reform in Education, USA), Effective reading programs for English language learners and other language-minority students. Bilingual Research Journal (National Association for Bilingual Education) 29.2 (2005), 244–267.07–100Courtney, Michael (Springdale Public Schools, USA), Teaching Roberto. Bilingual Research Journal (National Association for Bilingual Education) 29.2 (2005), 475–484.07–101Creese, Angela (U Birmingham, UK), Supporting talk? Partnership teachers in classroom interaction. International Journal of Bilingual Education and Bilingualism (Multilingual Matters) 9.4 (2006), 434–453.07–102Davison, Chris (U Hong Kong, China), Collaboration between ESL and content teachers: How do we know when we are doing it right?International Journal of Bilingual Education and Bilingualism (Multilingual Matters) 9.4 (2006), 454–475.07–103de Jong, Ester (U Florida, USA), Integrated bilingual education: An alternative approach. Bilingual Research Journal (National Association for Bilingual Education) 30.1 (2006), 22–44.07–104Domínguez, Higinio (U Texas at Austin, USA), Bilingual students' articulation and gesticulation of mathematical knowledge during problem solving. Bilingual Research Journal (National Association for Bilingual Education) 29.2 (2005), 269–293.07–105Duren Green, Tonika, MyLuong Tran &amp; Russell Young (San Diego State U, USA), The impact of ethnicity, socioeconomic status, language, and training program on teaching choice among new teachers in California. Bilingual Research Journal (National Association for Bilingual Education) 29.3 (2005), 583–598.07–106García-Nevarez, Ana G. (California State U, Sacramento, USA), Mary E. Stafford &amp; Beatriz Arias, Arizona elementary teachers' attitudes toward English language learners and the use of Spanish in classroom instruction. Bilingual Research Journal (National Association for Bilingual Education) 29.2 (2005), 295–317.07–107Gardner, Sheena (U Warwick, UK), Centre-stage in the instructional register: Partnership talk in Primary EAL. International Journal of Bilingual Education and Bilingualism (Multilingual Matters) 9.4 (2006), 476–494.07–108Garza, Aimee V. &amp; Lindy Crawford (U Colorado at Colorado Springs, USA), Hegemonic multiculturalism: English immersion, ideology, and subtractive schooling. Bilingual Research Journal (National Association for Bilingual Education) 29.3 (2005), 598–619.07–109Hasson, Deborah J. (Florida State U, USA), Bilingual language use in Hispanic young adults: Did elementary bilingual programs help?Bilingual Research Journal (National Association for Bilingual Education) 30.1 (2006), 45–64.07–110Helmberger, Janet L. (Minneapolis Public Schools, USA), Language and ethnicity: Multiple literacies in context, language education in Guatemala. Bilingual Research Journal (National Association for Bilingual Education) 30.1 (2006), 65–86.07–111Johnson, Eric (Arizona State U, USA), WAR in the media: Metaphors, ideology, and the formation of language policy. Bilingual Research Journal (National Association for Bilingual Education) 29.3 (2005), 621–640.07–112Kandel, Sonia (U Pierre Mendes, France; Sonia.Kandel@upmf-grenoble.fr),Carlos J. Álvarez &amp; Nathalie Vallée, Syllables as processing units in handwriting production. Journal of Experimental Psychology: Human Perception and Performance (American Psychological Association) 32.1 (2006), 18–31.07–113Laija-Rodríguez, Wilda (California State U, USA), Salvador Hector Ochoa &amp; Richard Parker, The crosslinguistic role of cognitive academic language proficiency on reading growth in Spanish and English. Bilingual Research Journal (National Association for Bilingual Education) 30.1 (2006), 87–106.07–114Langdon, Henriette W. (San José State U, USA),Elisabeth H. Wiig &amp; Niels Peter Nielsen, Dual-dimension naming speed and language-dominance ratings by bilingual Hispanic adults. Bilingual Research Journal (National Association for Bilingual Education) 29.2 (2005), 319–336.07–115Lee, Steven K. (Portland State U, USA), The Latino students’ attitudes, perceptions, and views on bilingual education. Bilingual Research Journal (National Association for Bilingual Education) 30.1 (2006), 107–122.07–116Leung, Constant (King's College London, UK; constant.leung@kcl.ac.uk), Language and content in bilingual education. Linguistics and Education (Elsevier) 16.2 (2005), 238–252.07–117Lindholm-Leary, Kathryn (San Jose State U, USA) &amp; Graciela Borsato, Hispanic high schoolers and mathematics: Follow-up of students who had participated in two-way bilingual elementary programs. Bilingual Research Journal (National Association for Bilingual Education) 29.3 (2005), 641–652.07–118López, María G. &amp; Abbas Tashakkori (Florida International U, USA), Differential outcomes of two bilingual education programs on English language learners. Bilingual Research Journal (National Association for Bilingual Education) 30.1 (2006), 123–144.07–119Lung, Rachel (Lingnan U, Hong Kong, China; wclung@ln.edu.hk), Translation training needs for adult learners. Babel (John Benjamins) 51.3 (2005), 224–237.07–120MacSwan, Jeff (Arizona State U, USA) &amp; Lisa Pray, Learning English bilingually: Age of onset of exposure and rate of acquisition among English language learners in a bilingual education program. Bilingual Research Journal (National Association for Bilingual Education) 29.3 (2005), 653–678.07–121Monzó, Lilia D. (U California, Los Angeles, USA), Latino parents' ‘choice’ for bilingual education in an urban California school: language politics in the aftermath of proposition 227. Bilingual Research Journal (National Association for Bilingual Education) 29.2 (2005), 365–386.07–122Mugaddam, Abdel Rahim Hamid (U Khartoum, Sudan), Language status and use in Dilling City, the Nuba Mountains. Journal of Multilingual and Multicultural Development (Multilingual Matters) 27.4 (2006), 290–304.07–123Napier, Jemina (Macquarie U, Australia; jemina.napier@ling.mq.edu.au), Training sign language interpreters in Australia: An innovative approach. Babel (John Benjamins) 51.3 (2005), 207–223.07–124Oladejo, James (National Kaohsiung Normal U, Taiwan), Parents’ attitudes towards bilingual education policy in Taiwan. Bilingual Research Journal (National Association for Bilingual Education) 30.1 (2006), 147–170.07–125Paneque, Oneyda M. (Barry U, USA) &amp; Patricia M. Barbetta, A study of teacher efficacy of special education teachers of English language learners with disabilities. Bilingual Research Journal (National Association for Bilingual Education) 30.1 (2006), 171–193.07–126Proctor, Patrick C. (Center for Applied Special Technology, USA), Diane August, María S. Carlo &amp; Catherine Snow, The intriguing role of Spanish language vocabulary knowledge in predicting English reading comprehension. Journal of Educational Psychology (American Psychological Association) 98.1 (2006), 159–169.07–127Ramírez-Esparza, Nairán (U Texas, USA; nairan@mail.utexas.edu), Samuel D. Gosling, Verónica Benet-Martínez, Jeffrey P. Potter &amp; James W. Pennebaker, Do bilinguals have two personalities? A special case of cultural frame switching. Journal of Research in Personality (Elsevier) 40.2 (2006), 99–120.07–128Ramos, Francisco (Loyola Marymount U, USA), Spanish teachers’ opinions about the use of Spanish in mainstream English classrooms before and after their first year in California. Bilingual Research Journal (National Association for Bilingual Education) 29.2 (2005), 411–433.07–129Reese, Leslie (California State U, USA),Ronald Gallimore &amp; Donald Guthrie, Reading trajectories of immigrant Latino students in transitional bilingual programs. Bilingual Research Journal (National Association for Bilingual Education) 29.3 (2005), 679–697.07–130Rogers, Catherine, L. (U South Florida USA; crogers@cas.usf.edu),Jennifer J. Lister, Dashielle M. Febo, Joan M. Besing &amp; Harvey B. Abrams, Effects of bilingualism, noise and reverberation on speech perception by listeners with normal hearing. Applied Psycholinguistics (Cambridge University Press) 27.3 (2006), 465–485.07–131Sandoval-Lucero, Elena (U Colorado at Denver, USA), Recruiting paraeducators into bilingual teaching roles: The importance of support, supervision, and self-efficacy. Bilingual Research Journal (National Association for Bilingual Education) 30.1 (2006), 195–218.07–132Stritikus, Tom T. (U Washington, USA), Making meaning matter: A look at instructional practice in additive and subtractive contexts. Bilingual Research Journal (National Association for Bilingual Education) 30.1 (2006), 219–227.07–133Sutterby, John A., Javier Ayala &amp; Sandra Murillo (U Texas at Brownsville, USA), El sendero torcido al español [The twisted path to Spanish]: The development of bilingual teachers’ Spanish-language proficiency. Bilingual Research Journal (National Association for Bilingual Education) 29.2 (2005), 435–452.07–134 Takeuchi, Masae (Victoria U, Australia), The Japanese language development of children through the ‘one parent–one language’ approach in Melbourne. Journal of Multilingual and Multicultural Development (Multilingual Matters) 27.4 (2006), 319–331.07–135Torres-Guzmán, María E. &amp; Tatyana Kleyn (Teachers College, Columbia U, USA) &amp; Stella Morales-Rodríguez,Annie Han, Self-designated dual-language programs: Is there a gap between labeling and implementation? Bilingual Research Journal (National Association for Bilingual Education) 29.2 (2005), 453–474.07–136Wang, Min (U Maryland, USA; minwag@umd.edu),Yoonjung Park &amp; Kyoung Rang Lee, Korean–English biliteracy acquisition: Cross-language phonological and orthographic transfer. Journal of Educational Psychology (American Psychological Association) 98.1 (2006), 148–158.07–137Weisskirch, Robert S. (California State U, Monterey Bay, USA), Emotional aspects of language brokering among Mexican American adults. Journal of Multilingual and Multicultural Development (Multilingual Matters) 27.4 (2006), 332–343.07–138You, Byeong-keun (Arizona State U, USA), Children negotiating Korean American ethnic identity through their heritage language. Bilingual Research Journal (National Association for Bilingual Education) 29.3 (2005), 711–721.

IntroductionThe debate about the responsibility of museums to respect Indigenous peoples’ rights (Kelly and Gordon; Butts) has caught our attention on the basis of our previous research experience with regard to the protection of the tangible and intangible heritage of the San (former hunter gatherers) in Southern Africa (Martin and Vermeylen; Vermeylen, Contextualising; Vermeylen, Life Force; Vermeylen et al.; Vermeylen, Land Rights). This paper contributes to the critical debate about curatorial practices and the recovery of Indigenous peoples’ cultural practices and explores how museums can be transformed into cultural centres that “decolonise” their objects while simultaneously providing social agency to marginalised groups such as the San. Indigenous MuseumTraditional methods of displaying Indigenous heritage are now regarded with deep suspicion and resentment by Indigenous peoples (Simpson). A number of related issues such as the appropriation, ownership and repatriation of culture together with the treatment of sensitive and sacred materials and the stereotyping of Indigenous peoples’ identity (Carter; Simpson) have been identified as the main problems in the debate about museum curatorship and Indigenous heritage. The poignant question remains whether the concept of a classical museum—in the sense of how it continues to classify, value and display non-Western artworks—will ever be able to provide agency to Indigenous peoples as long as “their lives are reduced to an abstract set of largely arbitrary material items displayed without much sense of meaning” (Stanley 3). Indeed, as Salvador has argued, no matter how much Indigenous peoples have been involved in the planning and implementation of an exhibition, some issues remain problematic. First, there is the problem of representation: who speaks for the group; who should make decisions and under what circumstances; when is it acceptable for “outsiders” to be involved? Furthermore, Salvador raises another area of contestation and that is the issue of intention. As we agree with Salvador, no matter how good the intention to include Indigenous peoples in the curatorial practices, the fact that Indigenous peoples may have a (political) perspective about the exhibition that differs from the ideological foundation of the museum enterprise, is, indeed, a challenge that must not be overlooked in the discussion of the inclusive museum. This relates to, arguably, one of the most important challenges in respect to the concept of an Indigenous museum: how to present the past and present without creating an essentialising “Other”? As Stanley summarises, the modernising agenda of the museum, including those museums that claim to be Indigenous museums, continues to be heavily embedded in the belief that traditional cultural beliefs, practices and material manifestations must be saved. In other words, exhibitions focusing on Indigenous peoples fail to show them as dynamic, living cultures (Simpson). This raises the issue that museums recreate the past (Sepúlveda dos Santos) while Indigenous peoples’ interests can be best described “in terms of contemporaneity” (Bolton qtd. in Stanley 7). According to Bolton, Indigenous peoples’ interest in museums can be best understood in terms of using these (historical) collections and institutions to address contemporary issues. Or, as Sepúlveda dos Santos argues, in order for museums to be a true place of memory—or indeed a true place of recovery—it is important that the museum makes the link between the past and contemporary issues or to use its objects in such a way that these objects emphasize “the persistence of lived experiences transmitted through generations” (29). Under pressure from Indigenous rights movements, the major aim of some museums is now reconciliation with Indigenous peoples which, ultimately, should result in the return of the cultural objects to the originators of these objects (Kelly and Gordon). Using the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act of 1990 (NAGPRA) as an illustration, we argue that the whole debate of returning or recovering Indigenous peoples’ cultural objects to the original source is still embedded in a discourse that emphasises the mummified aspect of these materials. As Harding argues, NAGPRA is provoking an image of “native Americans as mere passive recipients of their cultural identity, beholden to their ancestors and the museum community for the re-creation of their cultures” (137) when it defines cultural patrimony as objects having ongoing historical, traditional or cultural importance, central to the Native American group or culture itself. According to Harding (2005) NAGPRA’s dominating narrative focuses on the loss, alienation and cultural genocide of the objects as long as these are not returned to their originators. The recovery or the return of the objects to their “original” culture has been applauded as one of the most liberating and emancipatory events in recent years for Indigenous peoples. However, as we have argued elsewhere, the process of recovery needs to do more than just smother the object in its past; recovery can only happen when heritage or tradition is connected to the experience of everyday life. One way of achieving this is to move away from the objectification of Indigenous peoples’ cultures. ObjectificationIn our exploratory enquiry about new museum practices our attention was drawn to a recent debate about ownership and personhood within the context of museology (Busse; Baker; Herle; Bell; Geismar). Busse, in particular, makes the point that in order to reformulate curatorial practices it is important to redefine the concept and meaning of objects. While the above authors do not question the importance of the objects, they all argue that the real importance does not lie in the objects themselves but in the way these objects embody the physical manifestation of social relations. The whole idea that objects matter because they have agency and efficacy, and as such become a kind of person, draws upon recent anthropological theorising by Gell and Strathern. Furthermore, we have not only been inspired by Gell’s and Strathern’s approaches that suggests that objects are social persons, we have also been influenced by Appadurai’s and Kopytoff’s defining of objects as biographical agents and therefore valued because of the associations they have acquired throughout time. We argue that by framing objects in a social network throughout its lifecycle we can avoid the recurrent pitfalls of essentialising objects in terms of their “primitive” or “traditional” (aesthetic) qualities and mystifying the identity of Indigenous peoples as “noble savages.” Focusing more on the social network that surrounds a particular object opens up new avenues of enquiry as to how, and to what extent, museums can become more inclusive vis-à-vis Indigenous peoples. It allows moving beyond the current discourse that approaches the history of the (ethnographic) museum from only one dominant perspective. By tracing an artwork throughout its lifecycle a new metaphor can be discovered; one that shows that Indigenous peoples have not always been victims, but maybe more importantly it allows us to show a more complex narrative of the object itself. It gives us the space to counterweight some of the discourses that have steeped Indigenous artworks in a “postcolonial” framework of sacredness and mythical meaning. This is not to argue that it is not important to be reminded of the dangers of appropriating other cultures’ heritage, but we would argue that it is equally important to show that approaching a story from a one-sided perspective will create a dualism (Bush) and reducing the differences between different cultures to a dualistic opposition fails to recognise the fundamental areas of agency (Morphy). In order for museums to enliven and engage with objects, they must become institutions that emphasise a relational approach towards displaying and curating objects. In the next part of this paper we will explore to what extent an online museum could progressively facilitate the process of providing agency to the social relations that link objects, persons, environments and memories. As Solanilla argues, what has been described as cybermuseology may further transform the museum landscape and provide an opportunity to challenge some of the problems identified above (e.g. essentialising practices). Or to quote the museologist Langlais: “The communication and interaction possibilities offered by the Web to layer information and to allow exploration of multiple meanings are only starting to be exploited. In this context, cybermuseology is known as a practice that is knowledge-driven rather than object-driven, and its main goal is to disseminate knowledge using the interaction possibilities of Information Communication Technologies” (Langlais qtd. in Solanilla 108). One thing which shows promise and merits further exploration is the idea of transforming the act of exhibiting ethnographic objects accompanied by texts and graphics into an act of cyber discourse that allows Indigenous peoples through their own voices and gestures to involve us in their own history. This is particularly the case since Indigenous peoples are using technologies, such as the Internet, as a new medium through which they can recuperate their histories, land rights, knowledge and cultural heritage (Zimmerman et al.). As such, new technology has played a significant role in the contestation and formation of Indigenous peoples’ current identity by creating new social and political spaces through visual and narrative cultural praxis (Ginsburg).Online MuseumsIt has been acknowledged for some time that a presence on the Web might mitigate the effects of what has been described as the “unassailable voice” in the recovery process undertaken by museums (Walsh 77). However, a museum’s online engagement with an Indigenous culture may have significance beyond undercutting the univocal authority of a museum. In the case of the South African National Gallery it was charged with challenging the extent to which it represents entrenched but unacceptable political ideologies. Online museums may provide opportunities in the conservation and dissemination of “life stories” that give an account of an Indigenous culture as it is experienced (Solanilla 105). We argue that in engaging with Indigenous cultural heritage a distinction needs to be drawn between data and the cognitive capacity to learn, “which enables us to extrapolate and learn new knowledge” (Langlois 74). The problem is that access to data about an Indigenous culture does not necessarily lead to an understanding of its knowledge. It has been argued that cybermuseology loses the essential interpersonal element that needs to be present if intangible heritage is understood as “the process of making sense that is generally transmitted orally and through face-to-face experience” (Langlois 78). We agree that the online museum does not enable a reality to be reproduced (Langlois 78).This does not mean that cybermuseology should be dismissed. Instead it provides the opportunity to construct a valuable, but completely new, experience of cultural knowledge (Langlois 78). The technology employed in cybermuseology provides the means by which control over meaning may, at least to some extent, be dispersed (Langlois 78). In this way online museums provide the opportunity for Indigenous peoples to challenge being subjected to manipulation by one authoritative museological voice. One of the ways this may be achieved is through interactivity by enabling the use of social tagging and folksonomy (Solanilla 110; Trant 2). In these processes keywords (tags) are supplied and shared by visitors as a means of accessing museum content. These tags in turn give rise to a classification system (folksonomy). In the context of an online museum engaging with an Indigenous culture we have reservations about the undifferentiated interactivity on the part of all visitors. This issue may be investigated further by examining how interactivity relates to communication. Arguably, an online museum is engaged in communicating Indigenous cultural heritage because it helps to keep it alive and pass it on to others (Langlois 77). However, enabling all visitors to structure online access to that culture may be detrimental to the communication of knowledge that might otherwise occur. The narratives by which Indigenous cultures, rather than visitors, order access to information about their cultures may lead to the communication of important knowledge. An illustration of the potential of this approach is the work Sharon Daniel has been involved with, which enables communities to “produce knowledge and interpret their own experience using media and information technologies” (Daniel, Palabras) partly by means of generating folksonomies. One way in which such issues may be engaged with in the context of online museums is through the argument that database and narrative in such new media objects are opposed to each other (Manovich, New Media 225). A new media work such as an online museum may be understood to be comprised of a database and an interface to that database. A visitor to an online museum may only move through the content of the database by following those paths that have been enabled by those who created the museum (Manovich, New Media 227). In short it is by means of the interface provided to the viewer that the content of the database is structured into a narrative (Manovich, New Media: 226). It is possible to understand online museums as constructions in which narrative and database aspects are emphasized to varying degrees for users. There are a variety of museum projects in which the importance of the interface in creating a narrative interface has been acknowledged. Goldblum et al. describe three examples of websites in which interfaces may be understood as, and explicitly designed for, carrying meaning as well as enabling interactivity: Life after the Holocaust; Ripples of Genocide; and Yearbook 2006.As with these examples, we suggest that it is important there be an explicit engagement with the significance of interface(s) for online museums about Indigenous peoples. The means by which visitors access content is important not only for the way in which visitors interact with material, but also as to what is communicated about, culture. It has been suggested that the curator’s role should be moved away from expertly representing knowledge toward that of assisting people outside the museum to make “authored statements” within it (Bennett 11). In this regard it seems to us that involvement of Indigenous peoples with the construction of the interface(s) to online museums is of considerable significance. Pieterse suggests that ethnographic museums should be guided by a process of self-representation by the “others” portrayed (Pieterse 133). Moreover it should not be forgotten that, because of the separation of content and interface, it is possible to have access to a database of material through more than one interface (Manovich, New Media 226-7). Online museums provide a means by which the artificial homogenization of Indigenous peoples may be challenged.We regard an important potential benefit of an online museum as the replacement of accessing material through the “unassailable voice” with the multiplicity of Indigenous voices. A number of ways to do this are suggested by a variety of new media artworks, including those that employ a database to rearrange information to reveal underlying cultural positions (Paul 100). Paul discusses the work of, amongst others, George Legrady. She describes how it engages with the archive and database as sites that record culture (104-6). Paul specifically discusses Legrady’s work Slippery Traces. This involved viewers navigating through more than 240 postcards. Viewers of work were invited to “first chose one of three quotes appearing on the screen, each of which embodies a different perspective—anthropological, colonialist, or media theory—and thus provides an interpretive angle for the experience of the projects” (104-5). In the same way visitors to an online museum could be provided with a choice of possible Indigenous voices by which its collection might be experienced. We are specifically interested in the implications that such approaches have for the way in which online museums could engage with film. Inspired by Basu’s work on reframing ethnographic film, we see the online museum as providing the possibility of a platform to experiment with new media art in order to expose the meta-narrative(s) about the politics of film making. As Basu argues, in order to provoke a feeling of involvement with the viewer, it is important that the viewer becomes aware “of the plurality of alternative readings/navigations that they might have made” (105). As Weinbren has observed, where a fixed narrative pathway has been constructed by a film, digital technology provides a particularly effective means to challenge it. It would be possible to reveal the way in which dominant political interests regarding Indigenous cultures have been asserted, such as for example in the popular film The Gods Must Be Crazy. New media art once again provides some interesting examples of the way ideology, that might otherwise remain unclear, may be exposed. Paul describes the example of Jennifer and Kevin McCoy’s project How I learned. The work restructures a television series Kung Fu by employing “categories such as ‘how I learned about blocking punches,’ ‘how I learned about exploiting workers,’ or ‘how I learned to love the land’” (Paul 103) to reveal in greater clarity, than otherwise might be possible, the cultural stereotypes used in the visual narratives of the program (Paul 102-4). We suggest that such examples suggest the ways in which online museums could work to reveal and explore the existence not only of meta-narratives expressed by museums as a whole, but also the means by which they are realised within existing items held in museum collections.ConclusionWe argue that the agency for such reflective moments between the San, who have been repeatedly misrepresented or underrepresented in exhibitions and films, and multiple audiences, may be enabled through the generation of multiple narratives within online museums. We would like to make the point that, first and foremost, the theory of representation must be fully understood and acknowledged in order to determine whether, and how, modes of online curating are censorious. As such we see online museums having the potential to play a significant role in illuminating for both the San and multiple audiences the way that any form of representation or displaying restricts the meanings that may be recovered about Indigenous peoples. ReferencesAppadurai, Arjun. The Social Life of Things: Commodities in Cultural Perspective. Cambridge: Harvard UP, 1986. Bal, Mieke. “Exhibition as Film.” Exhibition Experiments. Ed. Sharon Macdonald and Paul Basu. Malden: Blackwell Publishing 2007. 71-93. Basu, Paul. “Reframing Ethnographic Film.” Rethinking Documentary. Eds. Thomas Austin and Wilma de Jong. Maidenhead: Open U P, 2008. 94-106.Barringer, Tim, and Tom Flynn. Colonialism and the Object: Empire, Material Culture and the Museum. London: Routledge, 1998. Baxandall, Michael. "Exhibiting Intention: Some Preconditions of the Visual Display of Culturally Purposeful Objects." Exhibiting Cultures. Ed. Ivan Karp and Steven Lavine. Washington: Smithsonian Institution P. 1991. 33-41.Bell, Joshua. “Promiscuous Things: Perspectives on Cultural Property through Photographs in the Purari Delta of Papa New Guinea.” International Journal of Cultural Property 15 (2008): 123-39.Bennett, Tony. “The Political Rationality of the Museum.” Continuum: The Australian Journal of Media &amp; Culture 3 No.1 (1990). 8 Oct. 2008 ‹http://wwwmcc.murdoch.edu.au/ReadingRoom/3.1/Bennett.html›. Bolton, Lissant. “The Object in View: Aborigines, Melanesians and Museums.” Emplaced Myth: Space, Narrative and Knowledge in Australia and Papua New Guinea. Eds. Alan Rumsey &amp; James Weiner. Honolulu: U of Hawai`i P. 2001. 215-32. Bush, Martin. “Shifting Sands: Museum Representations of Science and Indigenous Knowledge Traditions.” Open Museum Journal 7 (2005). 8 Oct. 2008 ‹http://archive.amol.org.au/craft/omjournal/volume7/docs/MBush_ab.asp?ID=›.Busse, Mark. “Museums and the Things in Them Should Be Alive.” International Journal of Cultural Property 15 (2008): 189-200.Butts, David. “Māori and Museums: the Politics of Indigenous Recognition.” Museums, Society and Inequality. Ed. Richard Sandell. London: Routledge, 2002. 225-43.Casey, Dawn. “Culture Wars: Museums, Politics and Controversy.” Open Museum Journal 6 (2003). 8 Oct. 2008 ‹http://archive.amol.org.au/omj/volume6/casey.pdf›.Carter, J. “Museums and Indigenous Peoples in Canada.” Museums and the Appropriation of Culture. Ed. Susan Pearce. London: Athlone P, 1994. 213-33.Carolin, Clare, and Cathy Haynes. “The Politics of Display: Ann-Sofi Sidén’s Warte Mal!, Art History and Social Documentary.” Exhibition Experiments. Eds. Sharon Macdonald and Paul Basu. Malden: Blackwell Publishing, 2007. 154-74.Cooper, Jonathan. “Beyond the On-line Museum: Participatory Virtual Exhibitions.” Museums and the Web 2006: Proceedings. Eds. Jennifer Trant and David Bearman. Albuquerque: Archives &amp; Museum Informatics, 2006. 8 Oct. 2008 ‹www.archimuse.com/mw2006/papers/cooper/cooper.html›.Daniel, Sharon. “The Database: An Aesthetics of Dignity.” Database Aesthetics: Art in the Age of Information Overflow. Ed. Victoria Vesner. Minneapolis: U of Minnesota P, 2007. 142-82.Daniel, Sharon, and Casa Segura. “Need_ X_ Change.” 8 Oct. 2008 ‹http://arts.ucsc.edu/sdaniel/need/›.Daniel, Sharon. “Palabras” 8 Oct. 2008 ‹http://palabrastranquilas.ucsc.edu/›.Daniel, Sharon, and Erik Loyer. “Public Secrets.” Vectors. Winter (2007). 8 Oct. 2008 ‹http://vectors.usc.edu/index.php?page=7&amp;projectId=57›.Dietz, Steve. “Curating (on) the Web.” Museums and the Web 1998: Proceedings. Eds. Jennifer Trant and David Bearman. Toronto: Archives &amp; Museum Informatics, 1998. 8 Oct. 2008 ‹http://www.archimuse.com/mw98/papers/dietz/dietz_curatingtheweb.html›.Dietz, Steve. “Telling Stories: Procedural Authorship and Extracting Meanings from Museum Databases.” Museums and the Web 1999: Proceedings. Eds. Jennifer Trant and David Bearman. New Orleans: Archives &amp; Museum Informatics, 1999. 8 Oct. 2008 ‹http://www.archimuse.com/mw99/papers/dietz/dietz.html›.Gell, Alfred. Art and Agency: An Anthropological Theory. Oxford: Clarendon P, 1998.Geismar, Haidy. (2008) “Cultural Property, Museums, and the Pacific: Reframing the Debates.” International Journal of Cultural Property 15: 109-22.Ginsburg, Faye. “Resources of Hope: Learning from the Local in a Transnational Era.” Indigenous Cultures in an Interconnected World. Ed. Claire Smith &amp; Graeme Ward. St Leonards: Allen &amp; Unwin, 2000. 27-47.Goldblum, Josh, Adele O’Dowd, and Traci Sym. “Considerations and Strategies for Creating Interactive Narratives.” Museums and the Web 2007: Proceedings. Ed. Jennifer Trant and David Bearman. Toronto: Archives &amp; Museum Informatics, 2007. 8 Oct. 2008 ‹www.archimuse.com/mw2007/papers/goldblum/goldblum.html›.Guenther, Matthias. “Contemporary Bushman Art, Identity Politics, and the Primitive Discourse.” The Politics of Egalitarianism: Theory and Practice. Ed. Jacqueline Solway. New York: Berghahn Books, 2006. 159-88. Harding, Sarah. “Culture, Commodification, and Native American Cultural Patrimony.” Rethinking Commodification: Cases and Readings in Law and Culture. Ed. Martha Ertman and Joan Williams. New York: New York U P, 2005. 137-63.Herle, Anita. “Relational Objects: Connecting People and Things through Pasifika Styles.” International Journal of Cultural Property 15 (2008): 159-79.Hoopes, John. “The Future of the Past: Archaeology and Anthropology on the World Wide Web.” Archives and Museum Informatics 11 (1997): 87-105.“South African National Gallery.” Iziko: Museums of Cape Town. 8 Oct. 2008 ‹http://www.iziko.org.za/iziko/ourname.html›.Jones, Anna. “Exploding Canons: The Anthropology of Museums.” Annual Review of Anthropology 22 (1993): 201-20. Kelly, Lynda, and Phil Gordon. “Developing a Community of Practice: Museums and Reconciliation in Australia.” Museums, Society and Inequality. Ed. Richard Sandell. London: Routledge, 2002. 153-74.Kopytoff, Igor. “The Cultural Biography of Things: Commoditization as Process.” The Social Life of Things: Commodities in Cultural Perspective. Ed. Arjun Appadurai. Cambridge: Harvard U P, 1986. 64-91. Kreps, Christina. Theorising Cultural Heritage. Indigenous Curation as Intangible Cultural Heritage: Thoughts on the Relevance of the 2003 UNESCO Convention. Washington: Smithsonian Center for Folklife and Cultural Heritage, 2005.Langlois, Dominique. “Cybermuseology and Intangible Cultural Heritage.” Intersection Conference 2005. York U: Toronto, 2005. 8 Oct. 2008 ‹http://yorku.ca/topia/docs/conference/langlais.pdf›.“Life after the Holocaust.” United States Holocaust Memorial Museum. 8 Oct. 2008 ‹http://www.ushmm.org/museum/exhibit/online/life_after_holocaust/›.Manovich, Lev. The Language of New Media. Cambridge: MIT P, 2001.———. Making Art of Databases. Rotterdam: V2_Publishing/NAi Publishers, 2003.Martin, George, and Saskia Vermeylen. “Intellectual Property, Indigenous Knowledge, and Biodiversity.” Capitalism Nature Socialism 16 (2005): 27-48. Martínez, David. “Re-visioning the Hopi Fourth World: Dan Namingha, Indigenous Modernism, and the Hopivotskwani.” Art History 29 (2006): 145-72. McGee, Julie. “Restructuring South African Museums: Reality and Rhetoric within Cape Town.” New Museum Theory and Practice: An Introduction. Ed. Janet Marstine. Oxford: Blackwell, 2006. 178-99.McTavish, Lianne. “Visiting the Virtual Museum: Art and Experience Online.” New Museum Theory and Practice: An Introduction. Ed. Janet Marstine. Oxford: Blackwell, 2006. 226-45.Morphy, Howard. “Elite Art for Cultural Elites: Adding Value to Indigenous Arts.” Indigenous Cultures in an Interconnected World. Ed. Claire Smith and Graeme Ward. St Leonards: Allen &amp; Unwin, 2000. 129- 43.Paul, Christiane. “The Database as System and Cultural Form: Anatomies of Cultural Narratives.” Database Aesthetics: Art in the Age of Information Overflow. Ed. Victoria Vesner. Minneapolis: U of Minnesota P, 2007. 95-109.Pearce, Susan. Museums and the Appropriation of Culture. London: Athlone P, 1994.Pieterse, Jan Nederveen. “Multiculturalism and Museums: Discourse about Others in the Age of Globalisation.” Theory, Culture &amp; Society 14. 4 (1997): 123-46.“Ripples of Genocide: Journey through Eastern Congo.” United States Holocaust Memorial Museum. 8 Oct. 2008 ‹www.ushmm.org/museum/exhibit/online/congojournal›.Salvador, Mari Lyn. “‘The Kuna Way’: Museums, Exhbitions, and the Politics of Representation of Kuna Art.” Museum Anthropology 18 (1994): 48-52. Samis, Peter. “Artwork as Interface” Archives and Museum Informatics 13.2 (1999): 191-98.Sandell, Richard. “Museums and the Combating of Social Inequality: Roles, Responsibilities, Resistance.” Museums, Society and Inequality. Ed. Richard Sandell. London: Routledge, 2002. 3-23.Seaman, Bill. “Recombinant Poetics and Related Database Aesthetics.” Database Aesthetics: Art in the Age of Information Overflow. Ed. Victoria Vesner. Minneapolis: U of Minnesota P, 2007. 121-41.Sepúlveda dos Santos, Myrian. “Museums and Memory: The Enchanted Modernity.” Journal for Cultural Research 7 (2003): 27-46.Simpson, Moira. Making Representations. Museums in the Post-Colonial Era. London: Routledge, 2001.Skotnes, Pippa. “The Politics of Bushman Representations.” Images and Empires: Visuality in Colonial and Postcolonial Africa. Ed. Paul Landau and Deborah Kaspin. London: U of London P, 2002. 253-74.Sledge, Jane. “Stewarding Potential.” First Monday 12.7 (2007). 8 Oct. 2008 ‹http://www.firstmonday.org/issues/issue12_7/sledge/index.html›.Solanilla, Laura. “The Internet as a Tool for Communicating Life Stories: A New Challenge for Memory Institutions.” International Journal for Intangible Heritage 3 (2008): 103-16.Stalbaum, Brett. “An Interpretive Framework for Contemporary Database Practice in the Arts.” (2004). 8 Oct. 2008 ‹http://www.cityarts.com/paulc/database/Database_Stalbaum.doc›.Suzman, James. An Introduction to the Regional Assessment of the Status of the San in Southern Africa. Windhoek: Legal Assistance Centre, 2001.Stanley, Nick. “Introduction: Indigeneity and Museum Practice in the Southwest Pacific.” The Future of Indigenous Museums: Perspectives from the Southwest Pacific. Ed. Nick Stanley. New York: Berghahn Books, 2007. 1-37. Strathern, Marilyn. Property, Substance and Effect: Anthropological Essays on Persons and Things. London: Athlone, 1999. The Gods Must Be Crazy. Dir. Jamie Uys. Mimosa Films, 1980.Tomaselli, Keyan. “Rereading the Gods Must be Crazy Films.” Visual Anthropology 19 (2006):171-200.Trant, Jennifer. “Exploring the Potential for Social Tagging and Folksonomy in Art Museums: Proof of Concept.” New Review of Hypermedia and Multimedia 12.1 (2006). 8 Oct. 2008 ‹www.archimuse.com/papers/steve-nrhm-0605preprint.pdf›.Vermeylen, Saskia. “Contextualising ‘Fair’ and ‘Equitable’: the San’s Reflections on the Hoodia Benefit Sharing Agreement.” Local Environment 12.4 (2007): 1-14.———. “From Life Force to Slimming Aid: Exploring Views on the Commodification of Traditional Medicinal Knowledge.” Applied Geography 28 (2008): 224-35.———. Martin, George, and Roland Clift. “Intellectual Property Rights Systems and the ‘Assemblage’ of Local Knowledge Systems.” International Journal of Cultural Property 15 (2008): 201-21.———. “Land Rights and the Legacy of Colonialism.” Community Consent and Benefit-Sharing: Learning Lessons from the San Hoodia Case Ed. Rachel Wynberg and Roger Chennells. Berlin: Springer. Forthcoming.———, and Jeremy Pilcher. Indigenous Cultural Heritage and the Virtual Museum. Conference Paper. International Conference on the Inclusive Museum. Leiden, The Netherlands. 8-11 June 2008.Walsh, Peter. “The Web and the Unassailable Voice.” Archives and Museum Informatics 11 (1997): 77-85.Weinbren, Grahame. “Ocean, Database, Recut.” Database Aesthetics: Art in the Age of Information Overflow. Ed. Victoria. Vesner. Minneapolis: U of Minnesota P, 2007. 61-85.Weiner, James. “Televisualist Anthropology: Representation, Aesthetics, Politics [and Comments and Reply].” Current Anthropology 38 (1997): 197-235.“Yearbook 2006.” 8 Oct. 2008 ‹http://www.y06.org/›.Zimmerman, Larry, Karen Zimmerman, and Leonard Bruguier. “Cyberspace Smoke Signals: New Technologies and Native American Ethnicity.” Indigenous Cultures in an Interconnected World. Ed. Claire Smith &amp; Graeme Ward. St Leonards: Allen &amp; Unwin, 2000. 69-86.

As the single most successful social-networking Website to date, Facebook has caused a shift in both practice and perception of online socialisation, and its relationship to the offline world. While not the first online social networking service, Facebook’s user base dwarfs its nearest competitors. Mark Zuckerberg’s creation boasts more than 750 million users (Facebook). The currently ailing MySpace claimed a ceiling of 100 million users in 2006 (Cashmore). Further, the accuracy of this number has been contested due to a high proportion of fake or inactive accounts. Facebook by contrast, claims 50% of its user base logs in at least once a day (Facebook). The popular and mainstream uptake of Facebook has shifted social use of the Internet from various and fragmented niche groups towards a common hub or portal around which much everyday Internet use is centred. The implications are many, but this paper will focus on the progress what Mimi Marinucci terms the “Facebook effect” (70) and the evolution of lists as a filtering mechanism representing one’s social zones within Facebook. This is in part inspired by the launch of Google’s new social networking service Google+ which includes “circles” as a fundamental design feature for sorting contacts. Circles are an acknowledgement of the shortcomings of a single, unified friends list that defines the Facebook experience. These lists and circles are both manifestations of the same essential concept: our social lives are, in fact, divided into various zones not defined by an online/offline dichotomy, by fantasy role-play, deviant sexual practices, or other marginal or minority interests. What the lists and circles demonstrate is that even very common, mainstream people occupy different roles in everyday life, and that to be effective social tools, social networking sites must grant users control over their various identities and over who knows what about them. Even so, the very nature of computer-based social tools lead to problematic definitions of identities and relationships using discreet terms, in contrast to more fluid, performative constructions of an individual and their relations to others. Building the Monolith In 1995, Sherry Turkle wrote that “the Internet has become a significant social laboratory for experimenting with the constructions and reconstructions of self that characterize postmodern life” (180). Turkle describes the various deliberate acts of personnae creation possible online in contrast to earlier constraints placed upon the “cycling through different identities” (179). In the past, Turkle argues, “lifelong involvement with families and communities kept such cycling through under fairly stringent control” (180). In effect, Turkle was documenting the proliferation of identity games early adopters of Internet technologies played through various means. Much of what Turkle focused on were MUDs (Multi-User Dungeons) and MOOs (MUD Object Oriented), explicit play-spaces that encouraged identity-play of various kinds. Her contemporary Howard Rheingold focused on what may be described as the more “true to life” communities of the WELL (Whole Earth ‘Lectronic Link) (1–38). In particular, Rheingold explored a community established around the shared experience of parenting, especially of young children. While that community was not explicitly built on the notion of role-play, the parental identity was an important quality of community members. Unlike contemporary social media networks, these early communities were built on discreet platforms. MUDs, MOOs, Bulletin Board Systems, UseNet Groups and other early Internet communication platforms were generally hosted independently of one another, and even had to be dialled into via modem separately in some cases (such as the WELL). The Internet was a truly disparate entity in 1995. The discreetness of each community supported the cordoning off of individual roles or identities between them. Thus, an individual could quite easily be “Pete” a member of the parental WELL group and “Gorak the Destroyer,” a role-player on a fantasy MUD without the two roles ever being associated with each other. As Turkle points out, even within each MUD ample opportunity existed to play multiple characters (183–192). With only a screen name and associated description to identify an individual within the MUD environment, nothing technical existed to connect one player’s multiple identities, even within the same community. As the Internet has matured, however, the tendency has been shifting towards monolithic hubs, a notion of collecting all of “the Internet” together. From a purely technical and operational perspective, this has led to the emergence of the ISP (Internet service provider). Users can make a connection to one point, and then be connected to everything “on the Net” instead of individually dialling into servers and services one at a time as was the case in the early 1980s with companies such as Prodigy, the Source, CompuServe, and America On-Line (AOL). The early information service providers were largely walled gardens. A CompuServe user could only access information on the CompuServe network. Eventually the Internet became the network of choice and services migrated to it. Standards such as HTTP for Web page delivery and SMTP for email became established and dominate the Internet today. Technically, this has made the Internet much easier to use. The services that have developed on this more rationalised and unified platform have also tended toward monolithic, centralised architectures, despite the Internet’s apparent fundamental lack of a hierarchy. As the Internet replaced the closed networks, the wider Web of HTTP pages, forums, mailing lists and other forms of Internet communication and community thrived. Perhaps they required slightly more technological savvy than the carefully designed experience of walled-garden ISPs such as AOL, but these fora and IRC (Internet Relay Chat) rooms still provided the discreet environments within which to role-play. An individual could hold dozens of login names to as many different communities. These various niches could be simply hobby sites and forums where a user would deploy their identity as model train enthusiast, musician, or pet owner. They could also be explicitly about role-play, continuing the tradition of MUDs and MOOs into the new millennium. Pseudo- and polynymity were still very much part of the Internet experience. Even into the early parts of the so-called Web 2.0 explosion of more interactive Websites which allowed for easier dialog between site owner and viewer, a given identity would be very much tied to a single site, blog or even individual comments. There was no “single sign on” to link my thread from a music forum to the comments I made on a videogame blog to my aquarium photos at an image gallery site. Today, Facebook and Google, among others, seek to change all that. The Facebook Effect Working from a psychological background Turkle explored the multiplicity of online identities as a valuable learning, even therapeutic, experience. She assessed the experiences of individuals who were coming to terms with aspects of their own personalities, from simple shyness to exploring their sexuality. In “You Can’t Front on Facebook,” Mimi Marinucci summarizes an analysis of online behaviour by another psychologist, John Suler (67–70). Suler observed an “online disinhibition effect” characterised by users’ tendency to express themselves more openly online than offline (321). Awareness of this effect was drawn (no pun intended) into popular culture by cartoonist Mike Krahulik’s protagonist John Gabriel. Although Krahulik’s summation is straight to the point, Suler offers a more considered explanation. There are six general reasons for the online disinhibition effect: being anonymous, being invisible, the communications being out of sync, the strange sensation that a virtual interlocutor is all in the mind of the user, the general sense that the online world simply is not real and the minimisation of status and authority (321–325). Of the six, the notion of anonymity is most problematic, as briefly explored above in the case of AOL. The role of pseudonymity has been explored in more detail in Ruch, and will be considered with regard to Facebook and Google+ below. The Facebook effect, Marinucci argues, mitigates all six of these issues. Though Marinucci explains the mitigation of each factor individually, her final conclusion is the most compelling reason: “Facebook often facilitates what is best described as an integration of identities, and this integration of identities in turn functions as something of an inhibiting factor” (73). Ruch identifies this phenomenon as the “aggregation of identities” (219). Similarly, Brady Robards observes that “social network sites such as MySpace and Facebook collapse the entire array of social relationships into just one category, that of ‘Friend’” (20). Unlike earlier community sites, Ruch notes “Facebook rejects both the mythical anonymity of the Internet, but also the actual pseudo- or polynonymous potential of the technologies” (219). Essentially, Facebook works to bring the offline social world online, along with all the conventional baggage that accompanies the individual’s real-world social life. Facebook, and now Google+, present a hard, dichotomous approach to online identity: anonymous and authentic. Their socially networked individual is the “real” one, using a person’s given name, and bringing all (or as many as the sites can capture) their contacts from the offline world into the online one, regardless of context. The Facebook experience is one of “friending” everyone one has any social contact with into one homogeneous group. Not only is Facebook avoiding the multiple online identities that interested Turkle, but it is disregarding any multiplicity of identity anywhere, including any online/offline split. David Kirkpatrick reports Mark Zuckerberg’s rejection of this construction of identity is explained by his belief that “You have one identity … having two identities for yourself is an example of a lack of integrity” (199). Arguably, Zuckerberg’s calls for accountability through identity continue a perennial concern for anonymity online fuelled by “on the Internet no one knows you’re a dog” style moral panics. Over two decades ago Lindsy Van Gelder recounted the now infamous case of “Joan and Alex” (533) and Julian Dibbell recounted “a rape in cyberspace” (11). More recent anxieties concern the hacking escapades of Anonymous and LulzSec. Zuckerberg’s approach has been criticised by Christopher Poole, the founder of 4Chan—a bastion of Internet anonymity. During his keynote presentation at South by SouthWest 2011 Poole argued that Zuckerberg “equates anonymity with a lack of authenticity, almost a cowardice.” Yet in spite of these objections, Facebook has mainstream appeal. From a social constructivist perspective, this approach to identity would be satisfying the (perceived?) need for a mainstream, context-free, general social space online to cater for the hundreds of millions of people who now use the Internet. There is no specific, pre-defined reason to join Facebook in the way there is a particular reason to join a heavy metal music message board. Facebook is catering to the need to bring “real” social life online generally, with “real” in this case meaning “offline and pre-existing.” Very real risks of missing “real life” social events (engagements, new babies, party invitations etc) that were shared primarily via Facebook became salient to large groups of individuals not consciously concerned with some particular facet of identity performance. The commercial imperatives towards monolithic Internet and identity are obvious. Given that both Facebook and Google+ are in the business of facilitating the sale of advertising, their core business value is the demographic information they can sell to various companies for target advertising. Knowing a user’s individual identity and tastes is extremely important to those in the business of selling consumers what they currently want as well as predicting their future desires. The problem with this is the dawning realisation that even for the average person, role-playing is part of everyday life. We simply aren’t the same person in all contexts. None of the roles we play need to be particularly scandalous for this to be true, but we have different comfort zones with people that are fuelled by context. Suler proposes and Marinucci confirms that inhibition may be just as much part of our authentic self as the uninhibited expression experienced in more anonymous circumstances. Further, different contexts will inform what we inhibit and what we express. It is not as though there is a simple binary between two different groups and two different personal characteristics to oscillate between. The inhibited personnae one occupies at one’s grandmother’s home is a different inhibited self one plays at a job interview or in a heated discussion with faculty members at a university. One is politeness, the second professionalism, the third scholarly—yet they all restrain the individual in different ways. The Importance of Control over Circles Google+ is Google’s latest foray into the social networking arena. Its previous ventures Orkut and Google Buzz did not fare well, both were variously marred by legal issues concerning privacy, security, SPAM and hate groups. Buzz in particular fell afoul of associating Google accounts with users” real life identities, and (as noted earlier), all the baggage that comes with it. “One user blogged about how Buzz automatically added her abusive ex-boyfriend as a follower and exposed her communications with a current partner to him. Other bloggers commented that repressive governments in countries such as China or Iran could use Buzz to expose dissidents” (Novak). Google+ takes a different approach to its predecessors and its main rival, Facebook. Facebook allows for the organisation of “friends” into lists. Individuals can span more than one list. This is an exercise analogous to what Erving Goffman refers to as “audience segregation” (139). According to the site’s own statistics the average Facebook user has 130 friends, we anticipate it would be time-consuming to organise one’s friends according to real life social contexts. Yet without such organisation, Facebook overlooks the social structures and concomitant behaviours inherent in everyday life. Even broad groups offer little assistance. For example, an academic’s “Work People” list may include the Head of Department as well as numerous other lecturers with whom a workspace is shared. There are things one might share with immediate colleagues that should not be shared with the Head of Department. As Goffman states, “when audience segregation fails and an outsider happens upon a performance that was not meant for him, difficult problems in impression management arise” (139). By homogenising “friends” and social contexts users are either inhibited or run the risk of some future awkward encounters. Google+ utilises “circles” as its method for organising contacts. The graphical user interface is intuitive, facilitated by an easy drag and drop function. Use of “circles” already exists in the vocabulary used to describe our social structures. “List” by contrast reduces the subject matter to simple data. The utility of Facebook’s friends lists is hindered by usability issues—an unintuitive and convoluted process that was added to Facebook well after its launch, perhaps a reaction to privacy concerns rather than a genuine attempt to emulate social organisation. For a cogent breakdown of these technical and design problems see Augusto Sellhorn. Organising friends into lists is a function offered by Facebook, but Google+ takes a different approach: organising friends in circles is a central feature; the whole experience is centred around attempting to mirror the social relations of real life. Google’s promotional video explains the centrality of emulating “real life relationships” (Google). Effectively, Facebook and Google+ have adopted two different systemic approaches to dealing with the same issue. Facebook places the burden of organising a homogeneous mass of “friends” into lists on the user as an afterthought of connecting with another user. In contrast, Google+ builds organisation into the act of connecting. Whilst Google+’s approach is more intuitive and designed to facilitate social networking that more accurately reflects how real life social relationships are structured, it suffers from forcing direct correlation between an account and the account holder. That is, use of Google+ mandates bringing online the offline. Google+ operates a real names policy and on the weekend of 23 July 2011 suspended a number of accounts for violation of Google’s Community Standards. A suspension notice posted by Violet Blue reads: “After reviewing your profile, we determined the name you provided violates our Community Standards.” Open Source technologist Kirrily Robert polled 119 Google+ users about their experiences with the real names policy. The results posted to her on blog reveal that users desire pseudonymity, many for reasons of privacy and/or safety rather than the lack of integrity thought by Zuckerberg. boyd argues that Google’s real names policy is an abuse of power and poses danger to those users employing “nicks” for reasons including being a government employment or the victim of stalking, rape or domestic abuse. A comprehensive list of those at risk has been posted to the Geek Feminism Wiki (ironically, the Wiki utilises “Connect”, Facebook’s attempt at a single sign on solution for the Web that connects users’ movements with their Facebook profile). Facebook has a culture of real names stemming from its early adopters drawn from trusted communities, and this culture became a norm for that service (boyd). But as boyd also points out, “[r]eal names are by no means universal on Facebook.” Google+ demands real names, a demand justified by rhetoric of designing a social networking system that is more like real life. “Real”, in this case, is represented by one’s given name—irrespective of the authenticity of one’s pseudonym or the complications and dangers of using one’s given name. Conclusion There is a multiplicity of issues concerning social networks and identities, privacy and safety. This paper has outlined the challenges involved in moving real life to the online environment and the contests in trying to designate zones of social context. Where some earlier research into the social Internet has had a positive (even utopian) feel, the contemporary Internet is increasingly influenced by powerful and competing corporations. As a result, the experience of the Internet is not necessarily as flexible as Turkle or Rheingold might have envisioned. Rather than conducting identity experimentation or exercising multiple personnae, we are increasingly obligated to perform identity as it is defined by the monolithic service providers such as Facebook and Google+. This is not purely an indictment of Facebook or Google’s corporate drive, though they are obviously implicated, but has as much to do with the new social practice of “being online.” So, while there are myriad benefits to participating in this new social context, as Poole noted, the “cost of failure is really high when you’re contributing as yourself.” Areas for further exploration include the implications of Facebook positioning itself as a general-purpose user authentication tool whereby users can log into a wide array of Websites using their Facebook credentials. If Google were to take a similar action the implications would be even more convoluted, given the range of other services Google offers, from GMail to the Google Checkout payment service. While the monolithic centralisation of these services will have obvious benefits, there will be many more subtle problems which must be addressed. References Blue, Violet. “Google Plus Deleting Accounts en Masse: No Clear Answers.” zdnet.com (2011). 10 Aug. 2011 ‹http://www.zdnet.com/blog/violetblue/google-plus-deleting-accounts-en-masse-no-clear-answers/56›. boyd, danah. “Real Names Policies Are an Abuse of Power.” zephoria.org (2011). 10 Aug. 2011 ‹http://www.zephoria.org/thoughts/archives/2011/08/04/real-names.html›. Cashmore, Pete. “MySpace Hits 100 Million Accounts.” mashable.com (2006). 10 Aug. 2011 ‹http://mashable.com/2006/08/09/myspace-hits-100-million-accounts›. Dibble, Julian. My Tiny Life: Crime and Passion in a Virtual World. New York: Henry Holt &amp; Company, 1998. Facebook. “Fact Sheet.” Facebook (2011). 10 Aug. 2011 ‹http://www.facebook.com/press/info.php?statistic›. Geek Feminism Wiki. “Who Is Harmed by a Real Names Policy?” 2011. 10 Aug. 2011 ‹http://geekfeminism.wikia.com/wiki/Who_is_harmed_by_a_%22Real_Names%22_policy› Goffman, Erving. The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life. London: Penguin, 1959. Google. “The Google+ Project: Explore Circles.” Youtube.com (2011). 10 Aug. 2011 ‹http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ocPeAdpe_A8›. Kirkpatrick, David. The Facebook Effect. New York: Simon &amp; Schuster, 2010. Marinucci, Mimi. “You Can’t Front on Facebook.” Facebook and Philosophy. Ed. Dylan Wittkower. Chicago &amp; La Salle, Illinois: Open Court, 2010. 65–74. Novak, Peter. “Privacy Commissioner Reviewing Google Buzz.” CBC News: Technology and Science (2010). 10 Aug. 2011 ‹http://www.cbc.ca/news/technology/story/2010/02/16/google-buzz-privacy.html›. Poole, Christopher. Keynote presentation. South by SouthWest. Texas, Austin, 2011. Robards, Brady. “Negotiating Identity and Integrity on Social Network Sites for Educators.” International Journal for Educational Integrity 6.2 (2010): 19–23. Robert, Kirrily. “Preliminary Results of My Survey of Suspended Google Accounts.” 2011. 10 Aug. 2011 ‹http://infotrope.net/2011/07/25/preliminary-results-of-my-survey-of-suspended-google-accounts/›. Rheingold, Howard. The Virtual Community: Homesteading on the Electronic Frontier. New York: Harper Perennial, 1993. Ruch, Adam. “The Decline of Pseudonymity.” Posthumanity. Eds. Adam Ruch and Ewan Kirkland. Oxford: Inter-Disciplinary.net Press, 2010: 211–220. Sellhorn, Augusto. “Facebook Friend Lists Suck When Compared to Google+ Circles.” sellmic.com (2011). 10 Aug. 2011 ‹http://sellmic.com/blog/2011/07/01/facebook-friend-lists-suck-when-compared-to-googleplus-circles›. Suler, John. “The Online Disinhibition Effect.” CyberPsychology and Behavior 7 (2004): 321–326. Turkle, Sherry. Life on the Screen: Identity in the Age of the Internet. New York: Simon &amp; Schuster, 1995. Van Gelder, Lindsy. “The Strange Case of the Electronic Lover.” Computerization and Controversy: Value Conflicts and Social Choices Ed. Rob Kling. New York: Academic Press, 1996: 533–46.

IntroductionDespite claims that the importance of distance has been reduced due to technological and communications improvements (Cairncross; Friedman; O’Brien), the ‘power of place’ still resonates, often intensifying the role of geography (Christopherson et al.; Morgan; Pratt; Scott and Storper). Within the film industry, there has been a decentralisation of production from Hollywood, but there remains a spatial logic which has preferenced particular centres, such as Toronto, Vancouver, Sydney and Prague often led by a combination of incentives (Christopherson and Storper; Goldsmith and O’Regan; Goldsmith et al.; Miller et al.; Mould). The emergence of high end television, television programming for which the production budget is more than £1 million per television hour, has presented new opportunities for screen hubs sharing a very similar value chain to the film industry (OlsbergSPI with Nordicity).In recent years, interventions have proliferated with the aim of capitalising on the decentralisation of certain activities in order to attract international screen industries production and embed it within local hubs. Tools for building capacity and expertise have proliferated, including support for studio complex facilities, infrastructural investments, tax breaks and other economic incentives (Cucco; Goldsmith and O’Regan; Jensen; Goldsmith et al.; McDonald; Miller et al.; Mould). Yet experience tells us that these will not succeed everywhere. There is a need for a better understanding of both the capacity for places to build a distinctive and competitive advantage within a highly globalised landscape and the relative merits of alternative interventions designed to generate a sustainable production base.This article first sets out the rationale for the appetite identified in the screen industries for co-location, or clustering and concentration in a tightly drawn physical area, in global hubs of production. It goes on to explore the latest trends of decentralisation and examines the upturn in interventions aimed at attracting mobile screen industries capital and labour. Finally it introduces the Scottish screen industries and explores some of the ways in which Scotland has sought to position itself as a recipient of screen industries activity. The paper identifies some key gaps in infrastructure, most notably a studio, and calls for closer examination of the essential ingredients of, and possible interventions needed for, a vibrant and sustainable industry.A Compulsion for ProximityIt has been argued that particular spatial and place-based factors are central to the development and organisation of the screen industries. The film and television sector, the particular focus of this article, exhibit an extraordinarily high degree of spatial agglomeration, especially favouring centres with global status. It is worth noting that the computer games sector, not explored in this article, slightly diverges from this trend displaying more spatial patterns of decentralisation (Vallance), although key physical hubs of activity have been identified (Champion). Creative products often possess a cachet that is directly associated with their point of origin, for example fashion from Paris, films from Hollywood and country music from Nashville – although it can also be acknowledged that these are often strategic commercial constructions (Pecknold). The place of production represents a unique component of the final product as well as an authentication of substantive and symbolic quality (Scott, “Creative cities”). Place can act as part of a brand or image for creative industries, often reinforcing the advantage of being based in particular centres of production.Very localised historical, cultural, social and physical factors may also influence the success of creative production in particular places. Place-based factors relating to the built environment, including cheap space, public-sector support framework, connectivity, local identity, institutional environment and availability of amenities, are seen as possible influences in the locational choices of creative industry firms (see, for example, Drake; Helbrecht; Hutton; Leadbeater and Oakley; Markusen).Employment trends are notoriously difficult to measure in the screen industries (Christopherson, “Hollywood in decline?”), but the sector does contain large numbers of very small firms and freelancers. This allows them to be flexible but poses certain problems that can be somewhat offset by co-location. The findings of Antcliff et al.’s study of workers in the audiovisual industry in the UK suggested that individuals sought to reconstruct stable employment relations through their involvement in and use of networks. The trust and reciprocity engendered by stable networks, built up over time, were used to offset the risk associated with the erosion of stable employment. These findings are echoed by a study of TV content production in two media regions in Germany by Sydow and Staber who found that, although firms come together to work on particular projects, typically their business relations extend for a much longer period than this. Commonly, firms and individuals who have worked together previously will reassemble for further project work aided by their past experiences and expectations.Co-location allows the development of shared structures: language, technical attitudes, interpretative schemes and ‘communities of practice’ (Bathelt, et al.). Grabher describes this process as ‘hanging out’. Deep local pools of creative and skilled labour are advantageous both to firms and employees (Reimer et al.) by allowing flexibility, developing networks and offsetting risk (Banks et al.; Scott, “Global City Regions”). For example in Cook and Pandit’s study comparing the broadcasting industry in three city-regions, London was found to be hugely advantaged by its unrivalled talent pool, high financial rewards and prestigious projects. As Barnes and Hutton assert in relation to the wider creative industries, “if place matters, it matters most to them” (1251). This is certainly true for the screen industries and their spatial logic points towards a compulsion for proximity in large global hubs.Decentralisation and ‘Sticky’ PlacesDespite the attraction of global production hubs, there has been a decentralisation of screen industries from key centres, starting with the film industry and the vertical disintegration of Hollywood studios (Christopherson and Storper). There are instances of ‘runaway production’ from the 1920s onwards with around 40 per cent of all features being accounted for by offshore production in 1960 (Miller et al., 133). This trend has been increasing significantly in the last 20 years, leading to the genesis of new hubs of screen activity such as Toronto, Vancouver, Sydney and Prague (Christopherson, “Project work in context”; Goldsmith et al.; Mould; Miller et al.; Szczepanik). This development has been prompted by a multiplicity of reasons including favourable currency value differentials and economic incentives. Subsidies and tax breaks have been offered to secure international productions with most countries demanding that, in order to qualify for tax relief, productions have to spend a certain amount of their budget within the local economy, employ local crew and use domestic creative talent (Hill). Extensive infrastructure has been developed including studio complexes to attempt to lure productions with the advantage of a full service offering (Goldsmith and O’Regan).Internationally, Canada has been the greatest beneficiary of ‘runaway production’ with a state-led enactment of generous film incentives since the late 1990s (McDonald). Vancouver and Toronto are the busiest locations for North American Screen production after Los Angeles and New York, due to exchange rates and tax rebates on labour costs (Miller et al., 141). 80% of Vancouver’s production is attributable to runaway production (Jensen, 27) and the city is considered by some to have crossed a threshold as:It now possesses sufficient depth and breadth of talent to undertake the full array of pre-production, production and post-production services for the delivery of major motion pictures and TV programmes. (Barnes and Coe, 19)Similarly, Toronto is considered to have established a “comprehensive set of horizontal and vertical media capabilities” to ensure its status as a “full function media centre” (Davis, 98). These cities have successfully engaged in entrepreneurial activity to attract production (Christopherson, “Project Work in Context”) and in Vancouver the proactive role of provincial government and labour unions are, in part, credited with its success (Barnes and Coe). Studio-complex infrastructure has also been used to lure global productions, with Toronto, Melbourne and Sydney all being seen as key examples of where such developments have been used as a strategic priority to take local production capacity to the next level (Goldsmith and O’Regan).Studies which provide a historiography of the development of screen-industry hubs emphasise a complex interplay of social, cultural and physical conditions. In the complex and global flows of the screen industries, ‘sticky’ hubs have emerged with the ability to attract and retain capital and skilled labour. Despite being principally organised to attract international production, most studio complexes, especially those outside of global centres need to have a strong relationship to local or national film and television production to ensure the sustainability and depth of the labour pool (Goldsmith and O’Regan, 2003). Many have a broadcaster on site as well as a range of companies with a media orientation and training facilities (Goldsmith and O’Regan, 2003; Picard, 2008). The emergence of film studio complexes in the Australian Gold Coast and Vancouver was accompanied by an increasing role for television production and this multi-purpose nature was important for the continuity of production.Fostering a strong community of below the line workers, such as set designers, locations managers, make-up artists and props manufacturers, can also be a clear advantage in attracting international productions. For example at Cinecitta in Italy, the expertise of set designers and experienced crews in the Barrandov Studios of Prague are regarded as major selling points of the studio complexes there (Goldsmith and O’Regan; Miller et al.; Szczepanik). Natural and built environments are also considered very important for film and television firms and it is a useful advantage for capturing international production when cities can double for other locations as in the cases of Toronto, Vancouver, Prague for example (Evans; Goldsmith and O’Regan; Szczepanik). Toronto, for instance, has doubled for New York in over 100 films and with regard to television Due South’s (1994-1998) use of Toronto as Chicago was estimated to have saved 40 per cent in costs (Miller et al., 141).The Scottish Screen Industries Within mobile flows of capital and labour, Scotland has sought to position itself as a recipient of screen industries activity through multiple interventions, including investment in institutional frameworks, direct and indirect economic subsidies and the development of physical infrastructure. Traditionally creative industry activity in the UK has been concentrated in London and the South East which together account for 43% of the creative economy workforce (Bakhshi et al.). In order, in part to redress this imbalance and more generally to encourage the attraction and retention of international production a range of policies have been introduced focused on the screen industries. A revised Film Tax Relief was introduced in 2007 to encourage inward investment and prevent offshoring of indigenous production, and this has since been extended to high-end television, animation and children’s programming. Broadcasting has also experienced a push for decentralisation led by public funding with a responsibility to be regionally representative. The BBC (“BBC Annual Report and Accounts 2014/15”) is currently exceeding its target of 50% network spend outside London by 2016, with 17% spent in Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland. Channel 4 has similarly committed to commission at least 9% of its original spend from the nations by 2020. Studios have been also developed across the UK including at Roath Lock (Cardiff), Titanic Studios (Belfast), MedicaCity (Salford) and The Sharp Project (Manchester).The creative industries have been identified as one of seven growth sectors for Scotland by the government (Scottish Government). In 2010, the film and video sector employed 3,500 people and contributed £120 million GVA and £120 million adjusted GVA to the economy and the radio and TV sector employed 3,500 people and contributed £50 million GVA and £400 million adjusted GVA (The Scottish Parliament). Beyond the direct economic benefits of sectors, the on-screen representation of Scotland has been claimed to boost visitor numbers to the country (EKOS) and high profile international film productions have been attracted including Skyfall (2012) and WWZ (2013).Scotland has historically attracted international film and TV productions due to its natural locations (VisitScotland) and on average, between 2009-2014, six big budget films a year used Scottish locations both urban and rural (BOP Consulting, 2014). In all, a total of £20 million was generated by film-making in Glasgow during 2011 (Balkind) with WWZ (2013) and Cloud Atlas (2013), representing Philadelphia and San Francisco respectively, as well as doubling for Edinburgh for the recent acclaimed Scottish films Filth (2013) and Sunshine on Leith (2013). Sanson (80) asserts that the use of the city as a site for international productions not only brings in direct revenue from production money but also promotes the city as a “fashionable place to live, work and visit. Creativity makes the city both profitable and ‘cool’”.Nonetheless, issues persist and it has been suggested that Scotland lacks a stable and sustainable film industry, with low indigenous production levels and variable success from year to year in attracting inward investment (BOP Consulting). With regard to crew, problems with an insufficient production base have been identified as an issue in maintaining a pipeline of skills (BOP Consulting). Developing ‘talent’ is a central aspect of the Scottish Government’s Strategy for the Creative Industries, yet there remains the core challenge of retaining skills and encouraging new talent into the industry (BOP Consulting).With regard to film, a lack of substantial funding incentives and the absence of a studio have been identified as a key concern for the sector. For example, within the film industry the majority of inward investment filming in Scotland is location work as it lacks the studio facilities that would enable it to sustain a big-budget production in its entirety (BOP Consulting). The absence of such infrastructure has been seen as contributing to a drain of Scottish talent from these industries to other areas and countries where there is a more vibrant sector (BOP Consulting). The loss of Scottish talent to Northern Ireland was attributed to the longevity of the work being provided by Games of Thrones (2011-) now having completed its six series at the Titanic Studios in Belfast (EKOS) although this may have been stemmed somewhat recently with the attraction of US high-end TV series Outlander (2014-) which has been based at Wardpark in Cumbernauld since 2013.Television, both high-end production and local broadcasting, appears crucial to the sustainability of screen production in Scotland. Outlander has been estimated to contribute to Scotland’s production spend figures reaching a historic high of £45.8 million in 2014 (Creative Scotland ”Creative Scotland Screen Strategy Update”). The arrival of the program has almost doubled production spend in Scotland, offering the chance for increased stability for screen industries workers. Qualifying for UK High-End Television Tax Relief, Outlander has engaged a crew of approximately 300 across props, filming and set build, and cast over 2,000 supporting artist roles from within Scotland and the UK.Long running drama, in particular, offers key opportunities for both those cutting their teeth in the screen industries and also by providing more consistent and longer-term employment to existing workers. BBC television soap River City (2002-) has been identified as a key example of such an opportunity and the programme has been credited with providing a springboard for developing the skills of local actors, writers and production crew (Hibberd). This kind of pipeline of production is critical given the work patterns of the sector. According to Creative Skillset, of the 4,000 people in Scotland are employed in the film and television industries, 40% of television workers are freelance and 90% of film production work in freelance (EKOS).In an attempt to address skills gaps, the Outlander Trainee Placement Scheme has been devised in collaboration with Creative Scotland and Creative Skillset. During filming of Season One, thirty-eight trainees were supported across a range of production and craft roles, followed by a further twenty-five in Season Two. Encouragingly Outlander, and the books it is based on, is set in Scotland so the authenticity of place has played a strong component in the decision to locate production there. Producer David Brown began his career on Bill Forsyth films Gregory’s Girl (1981), Local Hero (1983) and Comfort and Joy (1984) and has a strong existing relationship to Scotland. He has been very vocal in his support for the trainee program, contending that “training is the future of our industry and we at Outlander see the growth of talent and opportunities as part of our mission here in Scotland” (“Outlander fast tracks next generation of skilled screen talent”).ConclusionsThis article has aimed to explore the relationship between place and the screen industries and, taking Scotland as its focus, has outlined a need to more closely examine the ways in which the sector can be supported. Despite the possible gains in terms of building a sustainable industry, the state-led funding of the global screen industries is contested. The use of tax breaks and incentives has been problematised and critiques range from use of public funding to attract footloose media industries to the increasingly zero sum game of competition between competing places (Morawetz; McDonald). In relation to broadcasting, there have been critiques of a ‘lift and shift’ approach to policy in the UK, with TV production companies moving to the nations and regions temporarily to meet the quota and leaving once a production has finished (House of Commons). Further to this, issues have been raised regarding how far such interventions can seed and develop a rich production ecology that offers opportunities for indigenous talent (Christopherson and Rightor).Nonetheless recent success for the screen industries in Scotland can, at least in part, be attributed to interventions including increased decentralisation of broadcasting and the high-end television tax incentives. This article has identified gaps in infrastructure which continue to stymie growth and have led to production drain to other centres. Important gaps in knowledge can also be acknowledged that warrant further investigation and unpacking including the relationship between film, high-end television and broadcasting, especially in terms of the opportunities they offer for screen industries workers to build a career in Scotland and notable gaps in infrastructure and the impact they have on the loss of production.ReferencesAntcliff, Valerie, Richard Saundry, and Mark Stuart. Freelance Worker Networks in Audio-Visual Industries. University of Central Lancashire, 2004.Bakhshi, Hasan, John Davies, Alan Freeman, and Peter Higgs. "The Geography of the UK’s Creative and High–Tech Economies." 2015.Balkind, Nicola. World Film Locations: Glasgow. Intellect Books, 2013.Banks, Mark, Andy Lovatt, Justin O’Connor, and Carlo Raffo. "Risk and Trust in the Cultural Industries." Geoforum 31.4 (2000): 453-464.Barnes, Trevor, and Neil M. Coe. “Vancouver as Media Cluster: The Cases of Video Games and Film/TV." Media Clusters: Spatial Agglomeration and Content Capabilities (2011): 251-277.Barnes, Trevor, and Thomas Hutton. "Situating the New Economy: Contingencies of Regeneration and Dislocation in Vancouver's Inner City." Urban Studies 46.5-6 (2009): 1247-1269.Bathelt, Harald, Anders Malmberg, and Peter Maskell. "Clusters and Knowledge: Local Buzz, Global Pipelines and the Process of Knowledge Creation." Progress in Human Geography 28.1 (2004): 31-56.BBC Annual Report and Accounts 2014/15 London: BBC (2015)BOP Consulting Review of the Film Sector in Glasgow: Report for Creative Scotland. Edinburgh: BOP Consulting, 2014.Champion, Katherine. "Problematizing a Homogeneous Spatial Logic for the Creative Industries: The Case of the Digital Games Industry." Changing the Rules of the Game. Palgrave Macmillan UK, 2013. 9-27.Cairncross, Francis. The Death of Distance London: Orion Business, 1997.Channel 4. Annual Report. London: Channel 4, 2014.Christopherson, Susan. "Project Work in Context: Regulatory Change and the New Geography of Media." Environment and Planning A 34.11 (2002): 2003-2015.———. "Hollywood in Decline? US Film and Television Producers beyond the Era of Fiscal Crisis." Cambridge Journal of Regions, Economy and Society 6.1 (2013): 141-157.Christopherson, Susan, and Michael Storper. "The City as Studio; the World as Back Lot: The Impact of Vertical Disintegration on the Location of the Motion Picture Industry." Environment and Planning D: Society and Space 4.3 (1986): 305-320.Christopherson, Susan, and Ned Rightor. "The Creative Economy as “Big Business”: Evaluating State Strategies to Lure Filmmakers." Journal of Planning Education and Research 29.3 (2010): 336-352.Christopherson, Susan, Harry Garretsen, and Ron Martin. "The World Is Not Flat: Putting Globalization in Its Place." Cambridge Journal of Regions, Economy and Society 1.3 (2008): 343-349.Cook, Gary A.S., and Naresh R. Pandit. "Service Industry Clustering: A Comparison of Broadcasting in Three City-Regions." The Service Industries Journal 27.4 (2007): 453-469.Creative Scotland Creative Scotland Screen Strategy Update. 2016. &lt;http://www.creativescotland.com/__data/assets/pdf_file/0008/33992/Creative-Scotland-Screen-Strategy-Update-Feb2016.pdf&gt;.———. Outlander Fast Tracks Next Generation of Skilled Screen Talent. 2016. &lt;http://www.creativescotland.com/what-we-do/latest-news/archive/2016/02/outlander-fast-tracks-next-generation-of-skilled-screen-talent&gt;.Cucco, Marco. "Blockbuster Outsourcing: Is There Really No Place like Home?" Film Studies 13.1 (2015): 73-93.Davis, Charles H. "Media Industry Clusters and Public Policy." Media Clusters: Spatial Agglomeration and Content Capabilities (2011): 72-98.Drake, Graham. "‘This Place Gives Me Space’: Place and Creativity in the Creative Industries." Geoforum 34.4 (2003): 511-524.EKOS. “Options for a Film and TV Production Space: Report for Scottish Enterprise.” Glasgow: EKOS, March 2014.Evans, Graeme. "Creative Cities, Creative Spaces and Urban Policy." Urban Studies 46.5-6 (2009): 1003-1040.Freidman, Thomas. "The World Is Flat." New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2006.Goldsmith, Ben, and Tom O’Regan. “Cinema Cities, Media Cities: The Contemporary International Studio Complex.” Screen Industry, Culture and Policy Research Series. Sydney: Australian Film Commission, Sep. 2003.Goldsmith, Ben, Susan Ward, and Tom O’Regan. "Global and Local Hollywood." InMedia. The French Journal of Media and Media Representations in the English-Speaking World 1 (2012).Grabher, Gernot. "The Project Ecology of Advertising: Tasks, Talents and Teams." Regional Studies 36.3 (2002): 245-262.Helbrecht, Ilse. "The Creative Metropolis Services, Symbols and Spaces." Zeitschrift für Kanada Studien 18 (1998): 79-93.Hibberd, Lynne. "Devolution in Policy and Practice: A Study of River City and BBC Scotland." Westminster Papers in Communication and Culture 4.3 (2007): 107-205.Hill, John. "'This Is for the Batmans as Well as the Vera Drakes': Economics, Culture and UK Government Film Production Policy in the 2000s." Journal of British Cinema and Television 9.3 (2012): 333-356.House of Commons Scottish Affairs Committee. “Creative Industries in Scotland.” Second Report of Session 2015–16. London: House of Commons, 2016.Hutton, Thomas A. "The New Economy of the Inner City." Cities 21.2 (2004): 89-108.Jensen, Rodney J.C. "The Spatial and Economic Contribution of Sydney's Visual Entertainment Industries." Australian Planner 48.1 (2011): 24-36.Leadbeater, Charles, and Kate Oakley. Surfing the Long Wave: Knowledge Entrepreneurship in Britain. London: Demos, 2001.McDonald, Adrian H. "Down the Rabbit Hole: The Madness of State Film Incentives as a 'Solution' to Runaway Production." University of Pennsylvania Journal of Business Law 14.85 (2011): 85-163.Markusen, Ann. "Sticky Places in Slippery Space: A Typology of Industrial Districts." Economic Geography (1996): 293-313.———. "Urban Development and the Politics of a Creative Class: Evidence from a Study of Artists." Environment and Planning A 38.10 (2006): 1921-1940.Miller, Toby, N. Govil, J. McMurria, R. Maxwell, and T. Wang. Global Hollywood 2. London: BFI, 2005.Morawetz, Norbert, et al. "Finance, Policy and Industrial Dynamics—The Rise of Co‐productions in the Film Industry." Industry and Innovation 14.4 (2007): 421-443.Morgan, Kevin. "The Exaggerated Death of Geography: Learning, Proximity and Territorial Innovation Systems." Journal of Economic Geography 4.1 (2004): 3-21.Mould, Oli. "Mission Impossible? Reconsidering the Research into Sydney's Film Industry." Studies in Australasian Cinema 1.1 (2007): 47-60.O’Brien, Richard. "Global Financial Integration: The End of Geography." London: Royal Institute of International Affairs, Pinter Publishers, 2002.OlsbergSPI with Nordicity. “Economic Contribution of the UK’s Film, High-End TV, Video Game, and Animation Programming Sectors.” Report presented to the BFI, Pinewood Shepperton plc, Ukie, the British Film Commission and Pact. London: BFI, Feb. 2015.Pecknold, Diane. "Heart of the Country? The Construction of Nashville as the Capital of Country Music." Sounds and the City. London: Palgrave Macmillan UK, 2014. 19-37.Picard, Robert G. Media Clusters: Local Agglomeration in an Industry Developing Networked Virtual Clusters. Jönköping International Business School, 2008.Pratt, Andy C. "New Media, the New Economy and New Spaces." Geoforum 31.4 (2000): 425-436.Reimer, Suzanne, Steven Pinch, and Peter Sunley. "Design Spaces: Agglomeration and Creativity in British Design Agencies." Geografiska Annaler: Series B, Human Geography 90.2 (2008): 151-172.Sanson, Kevin. Goodbye Brigadoon: Place, Production, and Identity in Global Glasgow. Diss. University of Texas at Austin, 2011.Scott, Allen J. "Creative Cities: Conceptual Issues and Policy Questions." Journal of Urban Affairs 28.1 (2006): 1-17.———. Global City-Regions: Trends, Theory, Policy. Oxford University Press, 2002.Scott, Allen J., and Michael Storper. "Regions, Globalization, Development." Regional Studies 41.S1 (2007): S191-S205.The Scottish Government. The Scottish Government Economic Strategy. Edinburgh: Scottish Government, 2015.———. Growth, Talent, Ambition – the Government’s Strategy for the Creative Industries. Edinburgh: Scottish Government, 2011.The Scottish Parliament Economy, Energy and Tourism Committee. The Economic Impact of the Film, TV and Video Games Industries. Edinburgh: Scottish Parliament, 2015.Sydow, Jörg, and Udo Staber. "The Institutional Embeddedness of Project Networks: The Case of Content Production in German Television." Regional Studies 36.3 (2002): 215-227.Szczepanik, Petr. "Globalization through the Eyes of Runners: Student Interns as Ethnographers on Runaway Productions in Prague." Media Industries 1.1 (2014).Vallance, Paul. "Creative Knowing, Organisational Learning, and Socio-Spatial Expansion in UK Videogame Development Studios." Geoforum 51 (2014): 15-26.Visit Scotland. “Scotland Voted Best Cinematic Destination in the World.” 2015. &lt;https://www.visitscotland.com/blog/films/scotland-voted-best-cinematic-destination-in-the-world/&gt;.

In recent years, the US television landscape has been flooded with reboots, remakes, and revivals of “classic” nineties television series, such as Full/er House (1987-1995, 2016-present), Will &amp; Grace (1998-2006, 2017-present), Roseanne (1988-1977, 2018), and Charmed (1998-2006, 2018-present). The term “reboot” is often used as a catchall for different kinds of revivals and remakes. “Remakes” are derivations or reimaginings of known properties with new characters, cast, and stories (Loock; Lavigne). “Revivals” bring back an existing property in the form of a continuation with the same cast and/or setting. “Revivals” and “remakes” both seek to capitalise on nostalgia for a specific notion of the past and access the (presumed) existing audience of the earlier series (Mittell; Rebecca Williams; Johnson).Reboots operate around two key pleasures. First, there is the pleasure of revisiting and/or reimagining characters that are “known” to audiences. Whether continuations or remakes, reboots are invested in the audience’s desire to see familiar characters. Second, there is the desire to “fix” and/or recuperate an earlier series. Some reboots, such as the Charmed remake attempt to recuperate the whiteness of the original series, whereas others such as Gilmore Girls: A Life in the Year (2017) set out to fix the ending of the original series by giving audiences a new “official” conclusion.The Roseanne reboot is invested in both these pleasures. It reunites the original cast for a short-lived, but impactful nine-episode tenth season. There is pleasure in seeing Roseanne (Roseanne Barr), Dan (John Goodman), Jackie (Laurie Metcalf), Becky (Lecy Goranson [seasons one to six, ten], Sarah Chalke [seasons six to nine]), Darlene (Sara Gilbert), and DJ (Michael Fishman) back in the Conner house with the same well-worn couch and afghan. The (attempted) recuperation is of author-star Barr, whose recent politics are in stark contrast to the working-class second-wave feminist politics of her nineties’ persona. This article is particularly interested in the second pleasure, because both the original series and the reboot situate the voice of Barr as central to the series’ narrative and politics.Despite achieving the highest ratings of any US sitcom in the past three years (O’Connell), on 29 May 2018, ABC announced that it was cancelling the Roseanne reboot. This decision came about in the wake of a racist tweet, where Barr compared a black woman (high-ranking Obama aide Valerie Jarrett) to an ape. Barr’s tweet and the cancellation of Roseanne, highlight the limits of nostalgia and Roseanne/Barr’s particular brand of white feminism. While whiteness and a lack of racial awareness are (and always have been) at the centre of Barr’s performance of feminism, the political landscape has shifted since the 1990s, with the rise of third and fourth-wave feminisms and intersectional activism. As such in the contemporary landscape, there is the expectation that white feminist figures take on and endorse anti-racist stances.This article argues that the reboot’s attempt to capitalise on nineties nostalgia exposes the limits of Roseanne/Barr’s feminism, as well as the limits of nostalgia. The feminist legacy of nineties-era Roseanne cannot and does not recuperate Barr’s star-persona. Also, the reboot and its subsequent cancellation highlight how the feminism of the series is embodied by Barr and her whiteness. This article will situate Roseanne and Barr within a feminist tradition on US television, before exploring how the reboot operates and circulates differently to the original series.From Roseanne (1988-1997) to Roseanne (2018)In its original form, Roseanne holds the distinction of being one of the most highly discussed and canonised feminist-leaning television series of all time, alongside The Mary Tyler Moore Show (1970-1977), Cagney and Lacey (1981-1988), and Buffy the Vampire Slayer (1997-2004). Roseanne also enabled and informed many popular feminist-leaning contemporary series, including Girls (2012-2017), Mom (2013-present), Better Things (2016-present), and Dietland (2018). Although it may seem anachronistic today, Roseanne and Barr helped define what it means to be a feminist and speak feminist politics on US television.Roseanne depicts the lives of the Conner family, headed by parents Roseanne and Dan. They live in the fictional blue-collar town of Lanford, Illinois with their three children Becky, Darlene, and DJ. Both Roseanne and Dan experience precarious employment and embark on numerous (mostly failed) business ventures throughout the series’ run. The reboot catches up with the Conner family in 2018, after Roseanne has experienced a health scare and single mom Darlene has moved into her parents’ house with her two children Harris (Emma Kenney) and Mark (Ames McNamara). In the new season, Roseanne and Dan’s children are experiencing similar working conditions to their parents in the 1990s. Becky works at a Mexican restaurant and is eager to act as surrogate mother to earn $50,000, Darlene is recently unemployed and looking for work, and DJ has just returned from military service.A stated objective of reviving Roseanne was to address the contentious US political landscape after the election of President Donald J. Trump (VanDerWerff). Barr is a vocal supporter of President Trump, as is her character in the reboot. The election plays a key role in the new season’s premise. The first episode of season 10 establishes that the titular Roseanne has not spoken to her sister Jackie (who is a Hillary Clinton supporter) in over a year. In both its nineties and 2018 incarnations, Roseanne makes apparent the extent to which feminist politics are indebted to and spoken through the author-star. The series is based on a character that Barr created and is grounded in her life experience. Barr and her character Roseanne are icons of nineties televisual feminism. While the other members of the Conner family are richly drawn and compelling, Roseanne is the centre of the series. It is her voice and perspective that drives the series and gives it its political resonance. Roseanne’s power in the text is authorised by Barr’s stardom. As Melissa Williams writes: “For nearly a decade, Barr was one of the most powerful women in Hollywood” (180).In the late 1980s and into the 1990s, Roseanne (and Barr) represented a new kind of feminist voice on US television, which at that stage (and still today) was dominated by middle-class women. Unlike Mary Richards (Mary Tyler Moore), Claire Huxtable (Phylicia Rashad), or Murphy Brown (Candice Bergen), Roseanne did not have a stable job and her family’s economic situation was often precarious. Roseanne/Barr adopted and used a feminism of personality popularised on television by Mary Tyler Moore and Lucille Ball. Unlike her foremothers, though, Roseanne/Barr was not slender, feminine, or interested in being likeable to men. Roseanne did not choose to work outside of the home, which marked her as different from many of US television’s other second-wave feminists and/or mothers. As Rachael Horowitz writes: “Roseanne’s feminism was for women who have to work because bills must get paid, who assert their role as head of the house despite the degrading work they often do during the day to pay for their kids’ food and clothes” (9).According to Kathleen Rowe, Barr is part of a long line of “female grotesques” whose defining features are excess and looseness (2-3). Rowe links Barr’s fatness or physical excess with her refusal to shut up and subversive speech. The feminism of Roseanne is contained within and expressed through Barr’s unruly white body (and voice). Barr’s unruliness and her unwillingness to follow the social conventions of politeness and decorum are tied to her (perceived) feminist politics.Understandings of Barr’s stardom, however, have shifted considerably in the years since the publication of Rowe’s analysis. While Barr is still “unruly,” her unruliness is no longer located in her body (which has been transformed to meet more conventional standards of western beauty), but rather in her Twitter presence, which is pro-Israel, pro-Trump, and anti-immigration. As Roxane Gay writes of the reboot: “Whatever charm and intelligence she [Barr] brought to the first nine seasons of her show, a show I very much loved, are absolutely absent in her current persona, particularly as it manifests on Twitter.”Feminist Voice and Stardom on US TVRoseanne performs what Julie D’Acci calls “explicit general feminism,” which is defined by “dialogue and scenes that straightforwardly addressed discrimination against women in both public and private spheres, stories structured around topical feminist causes, and the use of unequivocal feminist language and slogans” (147). However, the feminist politics of Roseanne and Barr are (and never were) straightforward or uncomplicated.Studies of feminism on US television have primarily focused on comedies that feature female television stars who function as advocates for feminism and women’s issues (Spigel; Rabinovitz; D’Acci). Much of the critical discussion of feminist voice in US female-led television identifies the feminist intervention as taking place at the level of performance (Dow; Spigel; Spangler). Comedic series such as I Love Lucy (1951-1957), Murphy Brown (1988-1998, 2018-present), and Grace Under Fire (1993-1998), and dramatic series’, such as Cagney and Lacey and Buffy the Vampire Slayer, privilege the articulation of feminist ideas through performance and character.Roseanne is not a series that derives its comedy from a clash of different perspectives or a series where politics are debated and explored in a nuanced a complex way. Roseanne promotes a distinct singular perspective – that of Roseanne Barr. In seasons one to nine, the character Roseanne is rarely persuaded to think differently about an issue or situation or depicted as “wrong.” The series centres Roseanne’s pain and distress when Becky elopes with Mark (Glenn Quinn), or when Jackie is abused by her boyfriend Fisher (Matt Roth), or when Darlene accidently gets pregnant. Although those storylines are about other characters, Roseanne’s emotions are central. Roseanne/Barr’s perspective (as fictional character and media personality) informs the narrative, sensibility, and tone. Roseanne is not designed to contain multiple perspectives.Roseanne is acutely aware of its place in the history of feminist voice and representations of women on US television. Television is central to the series’ articulation of feminism and feminist voice. In season seven episode “All About Rosey,” the series breaks the fourth wall (as it does many times throughout its run), taking the audience behind the scenes where some of US television’s most well-known (and traditional) mothers are cleaning the Conner’s kitchen. June Cleaver (Barbara Billingsley) from Leave It to Beaver (1957-1963), Joan Nash (Pat Crowley) from Please Don’t Eat the Daisies (1965-1967), Ruth Martin (June Lockhart) from Lassie (1958-1964), Norma Arnold (Alley Mills) from The Wonder Years (1988-1993), and Louise Jefferson (Isabel Sanford) from The Jeffersons (1975-1985) at first sit in judgment of Barr and her character Roseanne, claiming she presents “wrong image” for a TV mother. However, Roseanne/Barr eventually wins over the TV mothers, declaring “the important thing is on my show, I’m the boss and father knows squat” (7.19). It is in contrast to more traditional television mothers that Roseanne/Barr’s feminist voice comes into focus.In the ninth and final season of Roseanne’s initial run, the series (arguably) becomes a parody of its former self. By this point in the series, “Barr was seen as the sole cause of the show’s demise, as a woman who was ‘imploding,’ ‘losing the plot,’ or ‘out of control’” (White 234). White argues that depicting the working-class Conners’ social and economic ascension to upper-class diminishes the distinction between Barr and her character (243). White writes that in the series’ finale, the “line between performer and character is irrevocably blurred; it is unclear whether the voice we are hearing is that of Roseanne Conner or Roseanne Barr” (244). This blurring between Roseanne and Barr becomes particularly contentious in season 10.Rebooting Roseanne: Season 10Season 10 redacts and erases most of the events of season nine, which itself was a fantasy, as revealed in the season nine finale. As such, the reboot is not a simple continuation, because in the season nine finale it is revealed that Dan suffered a fatal heart attack a year earlier. The final monologue (delivered in voice-over by Barr) “reveals” that Roseanne has been writing and editing her experiences into a digestible story. The “Conners winning the lottery” storyline that dominated season nine was imagined by Roseanne as an elaborate coping strategy after Dan’s death. Yet in the season 10 reboot, Dan is revealed to be alive, as is Darlene and David’s (Johnny Galecki) daughter Harris, who was born during the events of season nine.The limits of Roseanne/Barr’s feminism within the contemporary political landscape come into focus around issues of race. This is partly because the incident that incited ABC to cancel the reboot of Roseanne was racially motivated, and partly because Roseanne/Barr’s feminism has always relied on whiteness. Between 1997 and 2018, Barr’s unruliness has become less associated with empowering working-class women and more with railing against minorities and immigrants. In redacting and erasing the events of season nine, the reboot attempts to step back the conflation between Roseanne and Barr with little success.In the first episode of season 10, “Twenty Years to Life”, Roseanne is positioned as the loud-mouthed victim of circumstance and systemic inequality – similar to her nineties-persona. Yet in 2018, Roseanne mocks same things that nineties’ Roseanne took seriously, including collective action, community building, and labour conditions. Roseanne claims: “It is not my fault that I just happen to be a charismatic person that’s right about everything” (10.01). Here, the series attempts to make light of a now-outdated understanding of Barr’s persona, but it comes off as tone-deaf and lacking self-awareness.Roseanne has bigoted tendencies in both the 1990s and in 2018, but the political resonance of those tendencies and their relationships to feminisms and nostalgia differs greatly from the original series to the reboot. This is best illustrated by comparing season seven episode “White Men Can’t Kiss” and season 10 episode “Go Cubs.” In the former, Roseanne is appalled that she may have raised a racist son and insists DJ must kiss his black classmate Geena (Rae’Ven Larrymore Kelly) in the school play. Towards the end of this episode, Geena’s father comes by the restaurant where Roseanne and Jackie are closing up. When the tall black man knocks on the locked door, Roseanne refuses to let him inside. She appears visibly afraid. Once Roseanne knows he is Geena’s father, she lets him in and he confronts her about her racist attitude. Roseanne (and the audience) is forced to sit in the discomfort of having her bigotry exposed. While there are no material consequences for Roseanne or DJ’s racism, within the context of the less intersectional 1990s, this interaction does not call into question Roseanne or Barr’s feminist credentials.In season 10, Roseanne tackles similar issues around race, ignorance, and bigotry, but it plays out very differently. In the reboot’s seventh episode, Roseanne suspects her Muslim refugee neighbours Fatima (Anne Bedian) and Samir (Alain Washnevky) are terrorists. Although Roseanne is proven wrong, she is not forced to reckon with her bigotry. Instead, she is positioned as a “hero” later in the episode, when she berates a supermarket cashier for her racist treatment of Fatima. Given what audiences know about Barr’s off-screen politics, this does not counteract the impression of racism, but compounds it. It also highlights the whiteness of the politics embodied by Roseanne/Barr both on-screen and off. Although these are two very different racial configurations (anti-blackness and Islamophobia), these episodes underline the shifting reception and resonance of the feminism Roseanne/Barr embodies.ConclusionIn June 2018, shortly after the cancellation of the Roseanne reboot, ABC announced that it was developing a spin-off without Barr called The Conners (2018-present). In the spin-off Roseanne is dead and her family is dealing with life after Roseanne/Roseanne (Crucchiola). Here, Roseanne suffers the same fate as Dan in season nine (she dies off-screen), but now it is Barr who is fictionally buried. While The Conners attempts to rewrite the story of the Conner family by rejecting Barr’s racist views and removing her financial and creative stake in their stories, Barr cannot be erased or redacted from Roseanne or the story of the Conner family, because it is her story.The reboot and its cancellation illuminate how Barr and Roseanne’s feminist voice has not evolved past its white second-wave roots. The feminism of Roseanne is embodied by Barr in all her unruliness and whiteness. Roseanne/Barr/Roseanne has not taken on the third and fourth-wave critiques of second-wave feminisms, which emphasise the limits of white feminisms. The failure of the Roseanne reboot reveals that the pleasure and nostalgia of seeing the Conner family back together is not enough. Ultimately, Roseanne is without intersectionality, and thus cannot (and should not) be recognised as feminist in the contemporary political landscape.ReferencesBetter Things. Cr. Pamela Adlon and Louis C.K. FX, 2016 to present.Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Cr. Joss Whedon. Mutant Enemy Productions, 1997-2004.Cagney and Lacey. Cr. Barbara Avedon and Barbara Corday. Orion Television, 1981-1988.Charmed. Cr. Constance M. Burge. Spelling Television, 1998-2006.Charmed. Cr. Jessica O’Toole, Amy Rardin, and Jennie Snyder Urman. CBS Television, 2018 to present.Conners, The. Cr. Bruce Helford and Matt Williams. Werner Entertainment, 2018 to present.Crucchiola, Jordan. “Roseanne Might Have Just Spoiled Her Own Death in The Conners.” Vulture, 17 Sep. 2018. &lt;https://www.vulture.com/2018/09/roseanne-may-have-just-spoiled-her-own-death-in-the-conners.html&gt;.D’Acci, Julie. Defining Women: Television and the Case of Cagney and Lacey. Chapel Hill, NC: U of North Carolina P, 1994.Dietland. Cr. Marti Noxon. Skydance Television, 2018.Dow, Bonnie J. Prime-Time Feminism: Television, Media Culture, and the Women’s Movement since 1970. Philadelphia, PA: U of Pennsylvania P, 1996.Full House. Cr. Jeff Franklin, Warner Bros. Television, 1987-1995.Fuller House. Cr. Jeff Franklin. Warner Horizon Television, 2016 to present.Gay, Roxane. “The ‘Roseanne’ Reboot Is Funny. I’m Not Going to Keep Watching.” New York Times, 29 Mar. 2018. 2 Dec. 2018 &lt;https://www.nytimes.com/2018/03/29/opinion/roseanne-reboot-trump.html&gt;.Gilmore Girls: A Life in the Year. Cr. Amy Sherman-Palladino. Netflix, 2017.Girls. Cr. Lena Dunham. Apatow Productions, 2012-2017.Grace under Fire. Cr. Chuck Lorre. Carsey-Werner, 1993-1998.Horowitz, Rachael. “Mary, Roseanne, and Carrie: Television and Fictional Feminism.” Michigan Journal of History 2.2 (2005). 24 Sep. 2018 &lt;https://michiganjournalhistory.files.wordpress.com/2014/02/horowitz_rachel.pdf&gt;.I Love Lucy. Desilu Productions, 1951-1957.Jeffersons, The. Cr. Don Nicholl, Michael Ross, and Bernie West. CBS, 1975-1985Johnson, Derek. “Party like It’s 1999: Another Wave of Network Nostalgia.” Flow Journal (2015). 2 Oct. 2018 &lt;https://www.flowjournal.org/2015/04/party-like-it%E2%80%99s-1999/&gt;.Lavigne, Carlen, ed. Remake Television: Reboot, Re-Use, Recycle. Lanham: Lexington Books, 2014.Lassie. Cr. Robert Maxwell. CBS, 1958-1964.Leave It to Beaver. Cr. Joe Connelly and Bob Mosher. MCA TV, 1957-1963.Loock, Kathleen. “American TV Series Revivals: Introduction.” Television &amp; New Media 19.4 (2018): 299-309.Mary Tyler Moore Show, The. Cr. James L. Brooks and Allan Burns. MTM Enterprises, 1970-1977.Mittell, Jason. Complex TV: The Poetics of Contemporary Television Storytelling. New York, NY: New York UP, 2015.Mom. Cr. Chuck Lorre, Eddie Gorodetsky, and Gemma Baker. Warner Bros. Television, 2013 to present.Murphy Brown. Cr. Diane English. Warner Bros. Television, 1988-1998, 2018.O’Connell, Michael. “TV Ratings: 'Roseanne' Revival Skyrockets with Stunning Premiere.” The Hollywood Reporter. 28 Mar. 2018. 2 Dec. 2018 &lt;https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/live-feed/tv-ratings-roseanne-revival-skyrockets-stunning-premiere-1097943&gt;.Please Don’t Eat the Daisies. Warner Bros. Television, 1965-1967Rabinovitz, Lauren. “Ms.-Representation: The Politics of Feminist Sitcoms.” Television, History, and American Culture: Feminist Critical Essays. Eds. Mary Beth Haralovich and Lauren Rabinovitz. Durham, NC: Duke UP, 1999. 144-167.Roseanne. Cr. Matt Williams. Carsey-Werner, 1988-1997, 2018.Rowe, Kathleen. The Unruly Woman: Gender and the Genres of Laughter. Austin, TX: U of Texas P, 1995.Spigel, Lynn. Welcome to the Dreamhouse: Popular Media and the Postwar Suburbs. Durham, NC: Duke UP, 2001.Spangler, Lynn C. Television Women from Lucy to Friends: Fifty Years of Sitcoms and Feminism. Westport, CT: Praeger, 2003.VanDerWerff, Todd. “The Roseanne Revival, and the Argument over How TV Depicts Trump Supporters, Explained.” Vox. 30 Mar. 2018. 2 Dec. 2018 &lt;https://www.vox.com/culture/2018/3/30/17174720/roseanne-2018-reboot-controversy-trump-explained-review&gt;.Will and Grace. Cr. Max Mutchnick and David Kohan. Warner Bros. Television, 1998-2006, 2017 to present.Williams, Melissa. “‘Excuse the Mess, But We Live Here:’ Roseanne Barr’s Stardom and the Politics of Class.” Film and Television Stardom. Ed. Kylo-Patrick R. Hart, Cambridge: Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 2009. 180-204.Williams, Rebecca. Post-Object Fandom: Television, Identity and Self-Narrative. New York, NY: Bloomsbury, 2015.White, Rosie. “Roseanne Barr: Remembering Roseanne.” Hysterical: Women in American Comedy. Eds. Linda Mizejewski and Victoria Sturtevant. Austin, TX: U of Texas P, 2017. 233-250.Wonder Years, The. Cr. Neal Marlens and Carol Black. ABC, 1988-1993.

Introduction Crime fiction is one of the world’s most popular genres. Indeed, it has been estimated that as many as one in every three new novels, published in English, is classified within the crime fiction category (Knight xi). These new entrants to the market are forced to jostle for space on bookstore and library shelves with reprints of classic crime novels; such works placed in, often fierce, competition against their contemporaries as well as many of their predecessors. Raymond Chandler, in his well-known essay The Simple Art of Murder, noted Ernest Hemingway’s observation that “the good writer competes only with the dead. The good detective story writer […] competes not only with all the unburied dead but with all the hosts of the living as well” (3). In fact, there are so many examples of crime fiction works that, as early as the 1920s, one of the original ‘Queens of Crime’, Dorothy L. Sayers, complained: It is impossible to keep track of all the detective-stories produced to-day [sic]. Book upon book, magazine upon magazine pour out from the Press, crammed with murders, thefts, arsons, frauds, conspiracies, problems, puzzles, mysteries, thrills, maniacs, crooks, poisoners, forgers, garrotters, police, spies, secret-service men, detectives, until it seems that half the world must be engaged in setting riddles for the other half to solve (95). Twenty years after Sayers wrote on the matter of the vast quantities of crime fiction available, W.H. Auden wrote one of the more famous essays on the genre: The Guilty Vicarage: Notes on the Detective Story, by an Addict. Auden is, perhaps, better known as a poet but his connection to the crime fiction genre is undisputed. As well as his poetic works that reference crime fiction and commentaries on crime fiction, one of Auden’s fellow poets, Cecil Day-Lewis, wrote a series of crime fiction novels under the pseudonym Nicholas Blake: the central protagonist of these novels, Nigel Strangeways, was modelled upon Auden (Scaggs 27). Interestingly, some writers whose names are now synonymous with the genre, such as Edgar Allan Poe and Raymond Chandler, established the link between poetry and crime fiction many years before the publication of The Guilty Vicarage. Edmund Wilson suggested that “reading detective stories is simply a kind of vice that, for silliness and minor harmfulness, ranks somewhere between crossword puzzles and smoking” (395). In the first line of The Guilty Vicarage, Auden supports Wilson’s claim and confesses that: “For me, as for many others, the reading of detective stories is an addiction like tobacco or alcohol” (406). This indicates that the genre is at best a trivial pursuit, at worst a pursuit that is bad for your health and is, increasingly, socially unacceptable, while Auden’s ideas around taste—high and low—are made clear when he declares that “detective stories have nothing to do with works of art” (406). The debates that surround genre and taste are many and varied. The mid-1920s was a point in time which had witnessed crime fiction writers produce some of the finest examples of fiction to ever be published and when readers and publishers were watching, with anticipation, as a new generation of crime fiction writers were readying themselves to enter what would become known as the genre’s Golden Age. At this time, R. Austin Freeman wrote that: By the critic and the professedly literary person the detective story is apt to be dismissed contemptuously as outside the pale of literature, to be conceived of as a type of work produced by half-educated and wholly incompetent writers for consumption by office boys, factory girls, and other persons devoid of culture and literary taste (7). This article responds to Auden’s essay and explores how crime fiction appeals to many different tastes: tastes that are acquired, change over time, are embraced, or kept as guilty secrets. In addition, this article will challenge Auden’s very narrow definition of crime fiction and suggest how Auden’s religious imagery, deployed to explain why many people choose to read crime fiction, can be incorporated into a broader popular discourse on punishment. This latter argument demonstrates that a taste for crime fiction and a taste for justice are inextricably intertwined. Crime Fiction: A Type For Every Taste Cathy Cole has observed that “crime novels are housed in their own section in many bookshops, separated from literary novels much as you’d keep a child with measles away from the rest of the class” (116). Times have changed. So too, have our tastes. Crime fiction, once sequestered in corners, now demands vast tracts of prime real estate in bookstores allowing readers to “make their way to the appropriate shelves, and begin to browse […] sorting through a wide variety of very different types of novels” (Malmgren 115). This is a result of the sheer size of the genre, noted above, as well as the genre’s expanding scope. Indeed, those who worked to re-invent crime fiction in the 1800s could not have envisaged the “taxonomic exuberance” (Derrida 206) of the writers who have defined crime fiction sub-genres, as well as how readers would respond by not only wanting to read crime fiction but also wanting to read many different types of crime fiction tailored to their particular tastes. To understand the demand for this diversity, it is important to reflect upon some of the appeal factors of crime fiction for readers. Many rules have been promulgated for the writers of crime fiction to follow. Ronald Knox produced a set of 10 rules in 1928. These included Rule 3 “Not more than one secret room or passage is allowable”, and Rule 10 “Twin brothers, and doubles generally, must not appear unless we have been duly prepared for them” (194–6). In the same year, S.S. Van Dine produced another list of 20 rules, which included Rule 3 “There must be no love interest: The business in hand is to bring a criminal to the bar of justice, not to bring a lovelorn couple to the hymeneal altar”, and Rule 7 “There simply must be a corpse in a detective novel, and the deader the corpse the better” (189–93). Some of these directives have been deliberately ignored or have become out-of-date over time while others continue to be followed in contemporary crime writing practice. In sharp contrast, there are no rules for reading this genre. Individuals are, generally, free to choose what, where, when, why, and how they read crime fiction. There are, however, different appeal factors for readers. The most common of these appeal factors, often described as doorways, are story, setting, character, and language. As the following passage explains: The story doorway beckons those who enjoy reading to find out what happens next. The setting doorway opens widest for readers who enjoy being immersed in an evocation of place or time. The doorway of character is for readers who enjoy looking at the world through others’ eyes. Readers who most appreciate skilful writing enter through the doorway of language (Wyatt online). These doorways draw readers to the crime fiction genre. There are stories that allow us to easily predict what will come next or make us hold our breath until the very last page, the books that we will cheerfully lend to a family member or a friend and those that we keep close to hand to re-read again and again. There are settings as diverse as country manors, exotic locations, and familiar city streets, places we have been and others that we might want to explore. There are characters such as the accidental sleuth, the hardboiled detective, and the refined police officer, amongst many others, the men and women—complete with idiosyncrasies and flaws—who we have grown to admire and trust. There is also the language that all writers, regardless of genre, depend upon to tell their tales. In crime fiction, even the most basic task of describing where the murder victim was found can range from words that convey the genteel—“The room of the tragedy” (Christie 62)—to the absurd: “There it was, jammed between a pallet load of best export boneless beef and half a tonne of spring lamb” (Maloney 1). These appeal factors indicate why readers might choose crime fiction over another genre, or choose one type of crime fiction over another. Yet such factors fail to explain what crime fiction is or adequately answer why the genre is devoured in such vast quantities. Firstly, crime fiction stories are those in which there is the committing of a crime, or at least the suspicion of a crime (Cole), and the story that unfolds revolves around the efforts of an amateur or professional detective to solve that crime (Scaggs). Secondly, crime fiction offers the reassurance of resolution, a guarantee that from “previous experience and from certain cultural conventions associated with this genre that ultimately the mystery will be fully explained” (Zunshine 122). For Auden, the definition of the crime novel was quite specific, and he argued that referring to the genre by “the vulgar definition, ‘a Whodunit’ is correct” (407). Auden went on to offer a basic formula stating that: “a murder occurs; many are suspected; all but one suspect, who is the murderer, are eliminated; the murderer is arrested or dies” (407). The idea of a formula is certainly a useful one, particularly when production demands—in terms of both quality and quantity—are so high, because the formula facilitates creators in the “rapid and efficient production of new works” (Cawelti 9). For contemporary crime fiction readers, the doorways to reading, discussed briefly above, have been cast wide open. Stories relying upon the basic crime fiction formula as a foundation can be gothic tales, clue puzzles, forensic procedurals, spy thrillers, hardboiled narratives, or violent crime narratives, amongst many others. The settings can be quiet villages or busy metropolises, landscapes that readers actually inhabit or that provide a form of affordable tourism. These stories can be set in the past, the here and now, or the future. Characters can range from Edgar Allan Poe’s C. Auguste Dupin to Dashiell Hammett’s Sam Spade, from Agatha Christie’s Miss Jane Marple to Kerry Greenwood’s Honourable Phryne Fisher. Similarly, language can come in numerous styles from the direct (even rough) words of Carter Brown to the literary prose of Peter Temple. Anything is possible, meaning everything is available to readers. For Auden—although he required a crime to be committed and expected that crime to be resolved—these doorways were only slightly ajar. For him, the story had to be a Whodunit; the setting had to be rural England, though a college setting was also considered suitable; the characters had to be “eccentric (aesthetically interesting individuals) and good (instinctively ethical)” and there needed to be a “completely satisfactory detective” (Sherlock Holmes, Inspector French, and Father Brown were identified as “satisfactory”); and the language descriptive and detailed (406, 409, 408). To illustrate this point, Auden’s concept of crime fiction has been plotted on a taxonomy, below, that traces the genre’s main developments over a period of three centuries. As can be seen, much of what is, today, taken for granted as being classified as crime fiction is completely excluded from Auden’s ideal. Figure 1: Taxonomy of Crime Fiction (Adapted from Franks, Murder 136) Crime Fiction: A Personal Journey I discovered crime fiction the summer before I started high school when I saw the film version of The Big Sleep starring Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall. A few days after I had seen the film I started reading the Raymond Chandler novel of the same title, featuring his famous detective Philip Marlowe, and was transfixed by the second paragraph: The main hallway of the Sternwood place was two stories high. Over the entrance doors, which would have let in a troop of Indian elephants, there was a broad stained-glass panel showing a knight in dark armour rescuing a lady who was tied to a tree and didn’t have any clothes on but some very long and convenient hair. The knight had pushed the visor of his helmet back to be sociable, and he was fiddling with the knots on the ropes that tied the lady to the tree and not getting anywhere. I stood there and thought that if I lived in the house, I would sooner or later have to climb up there and help him. He didn’t seem to be really trying (9). John Scaggs has written that this passage indicates Marlowe is an idealised figure, a knight of romance rewritten onto the mean streets of mid-20th century Los Angeles (62); a relocation Susan Roland calls a “secular form of the divinely sanctioned knight errant on a quest for metaphysical justice” (139): my kind of guy. Like many young people I looked for adventure and escape in books, a search that was realised with Raymond Chandler and his contemporaries. On the escapism scale, these men with their stories of tough-talking detectives taking on murderers and other criminals, law enforcement officers, and the occasional femme fatale, were certainly a sharp upgrade from C.S. Lewis and the Chronicles of Narnia. After reading the works written by the pioneers of the hardboiled and roman noir traditions, I looked to other American authors such as Edgar Allan Poe who, in the mid-1800s, became the father of the modern detective story, and Thorne Smith who, in the 1920s and 1930s, produced magical realist tales with characters who often chose to dabble on the wrong side of the law. This led me to the works of British crime writers including Arthur Conan Doyle, Agatha Christie, and Dorothy L. Sayers. My personal library then became dominated by Australian writers of crime fiction, from the stories of bushrangers and convicts of the Colonial era to contemporary tales of police and private investigators. There have been various attempts to “improve” or “refine” my tastes: to convince me that serious literature is real reading and frivolous fiction is merely a distraction. Certainly, the reading of those novels, often described as classics, provide perfect combinations of beauty and brilliance. Their narratives, however, do not often result in satisfactory endings. This routinely frustrates me because, while I understand the philosophical frameworks that many writers operate within, I believe the characters of such works are too often treated unfairly in the final pages. For example, at the end of Ernest Hemingway’s A Farewell to Arms, Frederick Henry “left the hospital and walked back to the hotel in the rain” after his son is stillborn and “Mrs Henry” becomes “very ill” and dies (292–93). Another example can be found on the last page of George Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four when Winston Smith “gazed up at the enormous face” and he realised that he “loved Big Brother” (311). Endings such as these provide a space for reflection about the world around us but rarely spark an immediate response of how great that world is to live in (Franks Motive). The subject matter of crime fiction does not easily facilitate fairy-tale finishes, yet, people continue to read the genre because, generally, the concluding chapter will show that justice, of some form, will be done. Punishment will be meted out to the ‘bad characters’ that have broken society’s moral or legal laws; the ‘good characters’ may experience hardships and may suffer but they will, generally, prevail. Crime Fiction: A Taste For Justice Superimposed upon Auden’s parameters around crime fiction, are his ideas of the law in the real world and how such laws are interwoven with the Christian-based system of ethics. This can be seen in Auden’s listing of three classes of crime: “(a) offenses against God and one’s neighbor or neighbors; (b) offenses against God and society; (c) offenses against God” (407). Murder, in Auden’s opinion, is a class (b) offense: for the crime fiction novel, the society reflected within the story should be one in “a state of grace, i.e., a society where there is no need of the law, no contradiction between the aesthetic individual and the ethical universal, and where murder, therefore, is the unheard-of act which precipitates a crisis” (408). Additionally, in the crime novel “as in its mirror image, the Quest for the Grail, maps (the ritual of space) and timetables (the ritual of time) are desirable. Nature should reflect its human inhabitants, i.e., it should be the Great Good Place; for the more Eden-like it is, the greater the contradiction of murder” (408). Thus, as Charles J. Rzepka notes, “according to W.H. Auden, the ‘classical’ English detective story typically re-enacts rites of scapegoating and expulsion that affirm the innocence of a community of good people supposedly ignorant of evil” (12). This premise—of good versus evil—supports Auden’s claim that the punishment of wrongdoers, particularly those who claim the “right to be omnipotent” and commit murder (409), should be swift and final: As to the murderer’s end, of the three alternatives—execution, suicide, and madness—the first is preferable; for if he commits suicide he refuses to repent, and if he goes mad he cannot repent, but if he does not repent society cannot forgive. Execution, on the other hand, is the act of atonement by which the murderer is forgiven by society (409). The unilateral endorsement of state-sanctioned murder is problematic, however, because—of the main justifications for punishment: retribution; deterrence; incapacitation; and rehabilitation (Carter Snead 1245)—punishment, in this context, focuses exclusively upon retribution and deterrence, incapacitation is achieved by default, but the idea of rehabilitation is completely ignored. This, in turn, ignores how the reading of crime fiction can be incorporated into a broader popular discourse on punishment and how a taste for crime fiction and a taste for justice are inextricably intertwined. One of the ways to explore the connection between crime fiction and justice is through the lens of Emile Durkheim’s thesis on the conscience collective which proposes punishment is a process allowing for the demonstration of group norms and the strengthening of moral boundaries. David Garland, in summarising this thesis, states: So although the modern state has a near monopoly of penal violence and controls the administration of penalties, a much wider population feels itself to be involved in the process of punishment, and supplies the context of social support and valorization within which state punishment takes place (32). It is claimed here that this “much wider population” connecting with the task of punishment can be taken further. Crime fiction, above all other forms of literary production, which, for those who do not directly contribute to the maintenance of their respective legal systems, facilitates a feeling of active participation in the penalising of a variety of perpetrators: from the issuing of fines to incarceration (Franks Punishment). Crime fiction readers are therefore, temporarily at least, direct contributors to a more stable society: one that is clearly based upon right and wrong and reliant upon the conscience collective to maintain and reaffirm order. In this context, the reader is no longer alone, with only their crime fiction novel for company, but has become an active member of “a moral framework which binds individuals to each other and to its conventions and institutions” (Garland 51). This allows crime fiction, once viewed as a “vice” (Wilson 395) or an “addiction” (Auden 406), to be seen as playing a crucial role in the preservation of social mores. It has been argued “only the most literal of literary minds would dispute the claim that fictional characters help shape the way we think of ourselves, and hence help us articulate more clearly what it means to be human” (Galgut 190). Crime fiction focuses on what it means to be human, and how complex humans are, because stories of murders, and the men and women who perpetrate and solve them, comment on what drives some people to take a life and others to avenge that life which is lost and, by extension, engages with a broad community of readers around ideas of justice and punishment. It is, furthermore, argued here that the idea of the story is one of the more important doorways for crime fiction and, more specifically, the conclusions that these stories, traditionally, offer. For Auden, the ending should be one of restoration of the spirit, as he suspected that “the typical reader of detective stories is, like myself, a person who suffers from a sense of sin” (411). In this way, the “phantasy, then, which the detective story addict indulges is the phantasy of being restored to the Garden of Eden, to a state of innocence, where he may know love as love and not as the law” (412), indicating that it was not necessarily an accident that “the detective story has flourished most in predominantly Protestant countries” (408). Today, modern crime fiction is a “broad church, where talented authors raise questions and cast light on a variety of societal and other issues through the prism of an exciting, page-turning story” (Sisterson). Moreover, our tastes in crime fiction have been tempered by a growing fear of real crime, particularly murder, “a crime of unique horror” (Hitchens 200). This has seen some readers develop a taste for crime fiction that is not produced within a framework of ecclesiastical faith but is rather grounded in reliance upon those who enact punishment in both the fictional and real worlds. As P.D. James has written: [N]ot by luck or divine intervention, but by human ingenuity, human intelligence and human courage. It confirms our hope that, despite some evidence to the contrary, we live in a beneficent and moral universe in which problems can be solved by rational means and peace and order restored from communal or personal disruption and chaos (174). Dorothy L. Sayers, despite her work to legitimise crime fiction, wrote that there: “certainly does seem a possibility that the detective story will some time come to an end, simply because the public will have learnt all the tricks” (108). Of course, many readers have “learnt all the tricks”, or most of them. This does not, however, detract from the genre’s overall appeal. We have not grown bored with, or become tired of, the formula that revolves around good and evil, and justice and punishment. Quite the opposite. Our knowledge of, as well as our faith in, the genre’s “tricks” gives a level of confidence to readers who are looking for endings that punish murderers and other wrongdoers, allowing for more satisfactory conclusions than the, rather depressing, ends given to Mr. Henry and Mr. Smith by Ernest Hemingway and George Orwell noted above. Conclusion For some, the popularity of crime fiction is a curious case indeed. When Penguin and Collins published the Marsh Million—100,000 copies each of 10 Ngaio Marsh titles in 1949—the author’s relief at the success of the project was palpable when she commented that “it was pleasant to find detective fiction being discussed as a tolerable form of reading by people whose opinion one valued” (172). More recently, upon the announcement that a Miles Franklin Award would be given to Peter Temple for his crime novel Truth, John Sutherland, a former chairman of the judges for one of the world’s most famous literary awards, suggested that submitting a crime novel for the Booker Prize would be: “like putting a donkey into the Grand National”. Much like art, fashion, food, and home furnishings or any one of the innumerable fields of activity and endeavour that are subject to opinion, there will always be those within the world of fiction who claim positions as arbiters of taste. Yet reading is intensely personal. I like a strong, well-plotted story, appreciate a carefully researched setting, and can admire elegant language, but if a character is too difficult to embrace—if I find I cannot make an emotional connection, if I find myself ambivalent about their fate—then a book is discarded as not being to my taste. It is also important to recognise that some tastes are transient. Crime fiction stories that are popular today could be forgotten tomorrow. Some stories appeal to such a broad range of tastes they are immediately included in the crime fiction canon. Yet others evolve over time to accommodate widespread changes in taste (an excellent example of this can be seen in the continual re-imagining of the stories of Sherlock Holmes). Personal tastes also adapt to our experiences and our surroundings. A book that someone adores in their 20s might be dismissed in their 40s. A storyline that was meaningful when read abroad may lose some of its magic when read at home. Personal events, from a change in employment to the loss of a loved one, can also impact upon what we want to read. Similarly, world events, such as economic crises and military conflicts, can also influence our reading preferences. Auden professed an almost insatiable appetite for crime fiction, describing the reading of detective stories as an addiction, and listed a very specific set of criteria to define the Whodunit. Today, such self-imposed restrictions are rare as, while there are many rules for writing crime fiction, there are no rules for reading this (or any other) genre. People are, generally, free to choose what, where, when, why, and how they read crime fiction, and to follow the deliberate or whimsical paths that their tastes may lay down for them. Crime fiction writers, past and present, offer: an incredible array of detective stories from the locked room to the clue puzzle; settings that range from the English country estate to city skyscrapers in glamorous locations around the world; numerous characters from cerebral sleuths who can solve a crime in their living room over a nice, hot cup of tea to weapon wielding heroes who track down villains on foot in darkened alleyways; and, language that ranges from the cultured conversations from the novels of the genre’s Golden Age to the hard-hitting terminology of forensic and legal procedurals. Overlaid on these appeal factors is the capacity of crime fiction to feed a taste for justice: to engage, vicariously at least, in the establishment of a more stable society. Of course, there are those who turn to the genre for a temporary distraction, an occasional guilty pleasure. There are those who stumble across the genre by accident or deliberately seek it out. There are also those, like Auden, who are addicted to crime fiction. So there are corpses for the conservative and dead bodies for the bloodthirsty. There is, indeed, a murder victim, and a murder story, to suit every reader’s taste. References Auden, W.H. “The Guilty Vicarage: Notes on The Detective Story, By an Addict.” Harper’s Magazine May (1948): 406–12. 1 Dec. 2013 ‹http://www.harpers.org/archive/1948/05/0033206›. Carter Snead, O. “Memory and Punishment.” Vanderbilt Law Review 64.4 (2011): 1195–264. Cawelti, John G. Adventure, Mystery and Romance: Formula Stories as Art and Popular Culture. Chicago: U of Chicago P, 1976/1977. Chandler, Raymond. The Big Sleep. London: Penguin, 1939/1970. ––. The Simple Art of Murder. New York: Vintage Books, 1950/1988. Christie, Agatha. The Mysterious Affair at Styles. London: HarperCollins, 1920/2007. Cole, Cathy. Private Dicks and Feisty Chicks: An Interrogation of Crime Fiction. Fremantle: Curtin UP, 2004. Derrida, Jacques. “The Law of Genre.” Glyph 7 (1980): 202–32. Franks, Rachel. “May I Suggest Murder?: An Overview of Crime Fiction for Readers’ Advisory Services Staff.” Australian Library Journal 60.2 (2011): 133–43. ––. “Motive for Murder: Reading Crime Fiction.” The Australian Library and Information Association Biennial Conference. Sydney: Jul. 2012. ––. “Punishment by the Book: Delivering and Evading Punishment in Crime Fiction.” Inter-Disciplinary.Net 3rd Global Conference on Punishment. Oxford: Sep. 2013. Freeman, R.A. “The Art of the Detective Story.” The Art of the Mystery Story: A Collection of Critical Essays. Ed. Howard Haycraft. New York: Simon &amp; Schuster, 1924/1947. 7–17. Galgut, E. “Poetic Faith and Prosaic Concerns: A Defense of Suspension of Disbelief.” South African Journal of Philosophy 21.3 (2002): 190–99. Garland, David. Punishment and Modern Society: A Study in Social Theory. Chicago: U of Chicago P, 1993. Hemingway, Ernest. A Farewell to Arms. London: Random House, 1929/2004. ––. in R. Chandler. The Simple Art of Murder. New York: Vintage Books, 1950/1988. Hitchens, P. A Brief History of Crime: The Decline of Order, Justice and Liberty in England. London: Atlantic Books, 2003. James, P.D. Talking About Detective Fiction. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2009. Knight, Stephen. Crime Fiction since 1800: Death, Detection, Diversity, 2nd ed. New York: Palgrave Macmillian, 2010. Knox, Ronald A. “Club Rules: The 10 Commandments for Detective Novelists, 1928.” Ronald Knox Society of North America. 1 Dec. 2013 ‹http://www.ronaldknoxsociety.com/detective.html›. Malmgren, C.D. “Anatomy of Murder: Mystery, Detective and Crime Fiction.” Journal of Popular Culture Spring (1997): 115–21. Maloney, Shane. The Murray Whelan Trilogy: Stiff, The Brush-Off and Nice Try. Melbourne: Text Publishing, 1994/2008. Marsh, Ngaio in J. Drayton. Ngaio Marsh: Her Life in Crime. Auckland: Harper Collins, 2008. Orwell, George. Nineteen Eighty-Four. London: Penguin Books, 1949/1989. Roland, Susan. From Agatha Christie to Ruth Rendell: British Women Writers in Detective and Crime Fiction. London: Palgrave, 2001. Rzepka, Charles J. Detective Fiction. Cambridge: Polity, 2005. Sayers, Dorothy L. “The Omnibus of Crime.” The Art of the Mystery Story: A Collection of Critical Essays. Ed. Howard Haycraft. New York: Simon &amp; Schuster, 1928/1947. 71–109. Scaggs, John. Crime Fiction: The New Critical Idiom. London: Routledge, 2005. Sisterson, C. “Battle for the Marsh: Awards 2013.” Black Mask: Pulps, Noir and News of Same. 1 Jan. 2014 http://www.blackmask.com/category/awards-2013/ Sutherland, John. in A. Flood. “Could Miles Franklin turn the Booker Prize to Crime?” The Guardian. 1 Jan. 2014 ‹http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2010/jun/25/miles-franklin-booker-prize-crime›. Van Dine, S.S. “Twenty Rules for Writing Detective Stories.” The Art of the Mystery Story: A Collection of Critical Essays. Ed. Howard Haycraft. New York: Simon &amp; Schuster, 1928/1947. 189-93. Wilson, Edmund. “Who Cares Who Killed Roger Ackroyd.” The Art of the Mystery Story: A Collection of Critical Essays. Ed. Howard Haycraft. New York: Simon &amp; Schuster, 1944/1947. 390–97. Wyatt, N. “Redefining RA: A RA Big Think.” Library Journal Online. 1 Jan. 2014 ‹http://lj.libraryjournal.com/2007/07/ljarchives/lj-series-redefining-ra-an-ra-big-think›. Zunshine, Lisa. Why We Read Fiction: Theory of Mind and the Novel. Columbus: Ohio State UP, 2006.