Academic literature on the topic 'John Francis (Fictitious character)'

Francis Willughby and John Ray were at the forefront of the natural history of insects in the second half of the seventeenth century. Willughby in particular had a deep interest in insects' metamorphosis, behaviour and diversity, an interest that he passed on to his friend and mentor Ray. By examining Willughby's contributions to John Wilkins's Essay towards a Real Character (1668) and Ray's Methodus insectorum (1705) and Historia insectorum (1710), which contained substantial material from Willughby's manuscript history of insects, one may reconstruct how the two naturalists studied insects, their innovative use of metamorphosis in insect classification, and the sheer diversity of insect forms that they described on the basis of their own collections and those of London and Oxford virtuosi. Imperfect as it was, Historia insectorum was recognized by contemporaries as a significant contribution to the emerging field of entomology.

John Bulwer (1606–1656) published five books on the semiotics of the human body, with most attention given to gesture. His ideas on gesture have previously been studied from the standpoint of rhetorical theory, but hardly at all in relation to language and cognition. With regard to the cognitive aspects of gesture, Bulwer was a conscious disciple of Francis Bacon, who characterized gesture as a “transient hieroglyphic” in the same passage of De Augmentis Scientiarum (1605) in which he discussed the possibility of a “real character” — a sort of rationalized, non-figurative hieroglyphic intended to bypass natural language by directly symbolizing things and notions. Bulwer, however, completely ignored the real character and concentrated solely on gesture. This was in part because he retained older views on the inherent ontological harmony between man and the universe, but also because, for Bulwer the physician, the underlying neurophysiological basis of gesture confirmed it as the universal “language” of humanity. In this respect his ideas foreshadow recent scientific work on gesture, language and cognition, such as that of Lakoff, Bouvet, and Armstrong, Stokoe & Wilcox.

This is the first translation into Russian of the “Martyrdom of John of Phanijoit”. The text is written in Coptic and originates from the beginning of the 13th cent. AD. The translation is preceded by an introduction, which comprises the history of the research as well as lists all the modern editions and translations of the “Martyrdom”. It is pointed out that there are some doubts about the original language of the text: some scholars argue that it could have been Arabic. There are also different speculations regarding the motives, which prompted the author to use Coptic, although at that time the Egyptian Christians almost completely switched to Arabic in everyday life. The composition of the “Martyrdom” follows the hagiographic canon, however, some expected topoi are missing. Among those are the torture of the Saint, the intervention of Heavenly Forces to strengthen the martyr. The main character in the “Martyrdom” is John, the flax seller. Having married a Muslim woman, he converted from Christianity to Islam. The narrative deals with what happened to John, when he decided to return to Christianity openly. The author of “Martyrdom” was a contemporary of the martyr and likely witnessed the events he described. Some of the characters mentioned in the “Martyrdom” are not fictitious but did exist indeed. All this makes the text a valuable source for the history of the Eastern Christianity in the Middle Ages.

Summary In the aftermath of the publication of John Wilkins’s Essay towards a Real Character and a Philosophical Language (1668), the Royal Society established a committee to consider and develop Wilkins’s proposals, whose members included Seth Ward (1617–89), Robert Hooke (1635–1703), Robert Boyle (1627–1691), John Wallis (1616–1703), John Ray (1627–1705), Christopher Wren (1632–1723) and William Holder (1616–1698). Despite the fact that this committee never reported, work on the Essay did continue, with many of the individual members conducting a detailed correspondence, marshalled by John Aubrey (1626–1697). In addition to the members of the original Royal Society committee, this group’s participants included Francis Lodwick (1619–1694), the Somerset clergyman Andrew Paschall (c.1630–c.1696), and Thomas Pigott (1657–1686), fellow of Wadham College, Oxford. The correspondents could not, however, agree on the best means of advancing the Essay, with the principal bone of contention being the ideas of Seth Ward. Thus, their efforts were eventually fruitless. This article traces the activities of this group and the intellectual milieu in which the revision of Wilkins’s Essay took place.

This research aims to analyze lie and types of lie in Mark Haddon’s novel entitled The Curious Incident of The Dog in the Night-Time. The fifteen-year-old narrator of the story, Christopher John Francis Boone discovers the slain body of his neighbor’s Poodle Wellington, on the neighbor front lawn, one evening and sets out to uncover the murderer. His investigation is at times aided, and at other times hampered, by the mild form of Autism he lives with. Christopher has a certain character. He finds difficulty in his social interaction; be it in his appearance, language attitude, or thinking. In addition, Christopher has an intelligent ability. He is able to interpret objects around him well. The novel ends with Christopher planning to take A-level exams in physics and further math, and then attend a university in another town. The method of the data analysis in this research uses descriptive qualitative method, and the theory applied in this research was following Bryant (2008) who divided lie into 3 types, i.e. real lies, white lies, and gray lies. The research result shows that all the three types of lie proposed by Bryant are vividly reflected by Christopher in the novel.

‘I am not so vain to think’, wrote Locke in his Essay Concerning Human Understanding (1690) ‘that any one can pretend to attempt the perfect reforming the languages of the world, no not so much as that of his own country, without rendring himself ridiculous’. It seems highly probable that among the objects of Locke’s scorn were the universal or philosophical language planners, whose extravagant movement was approaching its unhappy end when he was formulating his masterpiece in the 1670s and ’80s. This article investigates what it was about their plans that made Locke jeer. While their schemes varied considerably, all were broadly con- cerned to map precisely and transparently the order of thoughts and things, often by means of ‘real characters’—written signs which can be understood by people who speak different languages. These projects were informed by a diverse and overlapping assortment of motivations and beliefs, such as irenicism, millenarianism, and Latitudinarianism, but two ambitions run prominently, if not completely, through the movement. The first looked to restore the Adamic harmony between language, mind, and world, whereby words would deliver knowledge of nature, and thereby read God’s other book in an act of piety. The second was that language should be universal. While the two overlap, in so far as the unity of the world vouchsafes semantic uniformity, and while commentators have often, and rightly, paid attention to the first of these ambitions, I am going to focus on the second. The goal to renovate a language which could be understood by all was nurtured in the shadow of Babel, and sparked by those injunctions of Francis Bacon which shaped the movement as a whole. Certain passages of The Advancement of Learning (1605), and especially of its Latin version, De dignitate et augmentis scientiarum (1623), exhorted philosophers to inquire further into ‘the notes of things and cogitations’. In particular, Bacon proposed that a ‘philosophical grammar’ might serve as ‘an antidote against the curse of the confusion of tongues’. In his Academiarum examen (1654), John Webster agreed that a ‘universal character’ would repair ‘the ruines of Babell’. The otherwise often distinctive voice of George Dalgarno chimed in with the promise in his first broadsheet, Character Universalis (1657), that by means of his ‘universal character’, ‘men of all nations may enjoy the benefit of conversing one with another’. And in his dedicatory letter to leading lights of the movement John Wilkins and Seth Ward, which prefaces his second broadsheet (Tables of the Universal Character, 1657), Dalgarno explained that what follows is intended ‘towards the releife of the confusion of languages’. Drawing on widespread, often tacit, suppositions, the planners premised their belief in the possibility of a shared language on the assumption that the entities which words represent are shared, that the meanings of words are the same for all.

The organization of numerous religious mass events of international, or even global, reach is a phenomenon of the early 21st century. It is sometimes termed “eventization of faith”. This article presents a multifaceted analysis of the initial stage of the World Youth Day in 2016, which took place in the Archdiocese of Łódź (Poland). While multiple scholarly publications have been written about World Youth Day (WYD) itself, its first part of preparatory nature, the so-called “Days in Dioceses”, has not been studied yet. The authors of this paper used a wide array of research methods, such as participant observation, questionnaire (official statistics concerning 10,000 pilgrims), pilot survey (258 respondents), and analysis of media reports (over 100 films and 30 articles). The analysis of the organizational method of such a major religious event leads to a conclusion that it is a complex logistic undertaking, which requires professional preparation and implementation by a team of specialists in different fields as well as an army of deeply involved volunteers and public services employees. Over 10.2 thousand young pilgrims (mostly at the age of 15–29) participated in the youth meeting in the Archdiocese of Łódź; apart from spiritual motives (strengthening faith, meeting Pope Francis, following in the footsteps of St. John Paul II) they exhibited strong social (willingness to be in the community of believers, making new friends), recreational and tourist (visiting Poland) needs as well. In view of the hermetic and low-budget character of World Youth Day, its impact on the economy of the region was deemed negligible. Above all, the event played a promotional and image-building part, which perhaps in the years to come will result in an increase in visits of foreign tourists to Łódź.

AbstractTwo things long stood in the way of the erection of statues in public in the Northern Netherlands, on the one hand the lack of a strong central government and on the other the wrongly interpreted - Calvinist interdict on them (Note 1). The first statue of this kind, that of Erasmus in Rotterdam by De Keyser (1622), was attacked by strict Calvinists, but noted throughout Europe as an early paradigm (Note 3). Not until the 19th century did the Netherlands join in the nationalistic 'statue craze', which was just breaking out then, with two monuments to the supposed Dutch inventor of printing, Laurens Janszoon Coster. These statues of a private citizen had a predecessor in the 18th century, while a statue had already been demanded in the 17th-century eulogies of Coster. Cities had long honoured their famous inventors as important contributors to civilization and praise of the inventor was also a fundampental ingredient of the history of learning (e.g. in Pliny). In the Renaissance scientific inventions acquired a special emphasis, modern inventors being held up as evidence that the model of Antiquity could be not only equalled, but also surpassed, while both Christian civilization and the northern countries could also gain credit here (cf. Johannes Stradanus, Figs. 2, 3, Note 9, and Francis Bacon, Note 10). The significance of the invention of printing for Christianity was soon recognized, so that it was lauded above other inventions as 'divine', an attitude that was certainly also strengthened by its decisive role in the Reformation. In the Netherlands in particular, where religious and political developments were so closely interwoven, printing was regarded as an important aid to both (Notes 14, 15), while the young Dutch Republic, in which printing played such an important part, could claim the honour of counting the inventor of this important art among its citizens. This 'pious fraud' (Hellinga) is fundamental to the discussion of the history of the statues. The Coster tradition can only be traced back to about a century after the supposed invention, acquiring its definitive form at the end of the 16th century in Hadrianus Junius' Batavia Illustrata of 1598. The further enlargement on the merits of Coster also necessitated a portrait of him which, in de fault of an authentic one, had to be fabricated for the purpose, the features of the statue of Erasmus being taken over for a full-length portrait (Fig. 5), which served as a 'graphic monument'. A fictitious bust of Coster was also cited in the 17th century (Fig. 7) and this, like the early sculptural marks of honour to him (Fig. 16), belongs to the iconography of printing, the practitioners of the craft evoking their inventor. Such representations - a more or less life-size statue of Coster is still to be seen on the house of the Haarlem printer Enschedé - were not yet very public in character. The statue of Coster projected from the end of the 17th century for the garden of the Hortus Medicus in Haarlem did acquire greater publicity, however. This humanist garden of a bourgeois learned society (Note 28), reflected not only nature, but also the world of learning, as a microcosm of the arts, with sixteen busts of connoisseurs and scholars under the leadership of a full-length statue of Coster, since it was he who by his art had made the dissemination of learning possible, although he owed his place here largely to his Haarlem origins, of course. The designs made by Romeyn de Hooghe for this statue (Note 29) were only realized in 1722 in a statue by Gerrit van Heerstal, which tried to unite historical and classical features (Figs. 8-13). In the years thereafter, up to the tercentenary of the invention, the poems, medals and a weighty commemorative publication (Fig. 14, Note 35) celebrating the Haarlem inventor of printing all referred to this statue in his birthplace. Meanwhile Germany too had honoured her inventors of printing - Fust in addition to Gutenberg, initially - in 1640 and 1710 by centenary festivities often of a Protestant cast. Privileges relating to public statues may have been one of the reasons why no monuments were erected on these occasions. These privileges were, however, annulled by the French Revolution, just as the Enlightenment and political renewal furthered the cult of honouring leading civic 'geniuses'. Two Gutenberg cities under French rule took pride of pace here, but only in 1840 did Strasbourg acquire a statue of Gutenberg by David d'Angers, which illustrated his role as the enlightener of all mankind (Figs. 15-18, Note 39). In Mainz a private initiative of 1794 came to nothing (Note 40), as did a Napoleonic rebuilding plan centred on a Gutenberg Square with a statue. Not until 1829 was a semi-public statue by Joseph Stok set up there (Note 41), while in 1837 the Gutenberg monument designed by Bartel Thorwaldsen was unveiled with great ceremony (Fig. 19). The two last-mentioned statues in Mainz, like the many others erected after 1814, were the products of the nationalistic pride in the country's past history that flared up after the defeat of Napoleon. This pride in the past generally took on a nostalgic cast and served to compensate for the failure of current political ambitions: The unity of Germany long a dream, while the hoped-for great changes in the Kingdom of the Netherlands were dealt a bitter blow by the breakaway of the 'southern provinces' in 1831 (Note 44). This last event marked the start for the Northern Netherlands of a long-lasting rivalry with their Belgian neighbours, which was pursued by means of monumental art, from the statue of Rembrandt (1852) as an answer to that of Rubens (1840) to the Rijksmuseum (1885). The great importance attached to Coster in the 19th century was already manifested in 1801 by the removal of the statue in Haarlem from the Hortus Medicus to the marketplace (Note 45). National pride is abundantly evident in the prizewinning treatise published in 1816 by Jacobus Koning, who is a weighty investigation confirmed Coster's right to the invention and with it that of the Netherlands to a leading place among the civilized nations. The quatercentenary, fixed surprisingly early, in 1823, comprised every imaginable type of public entertainment and demonstration of scholarship. It is, however, striking that these expressions of national pride were still balanced by references to the elevating effect of the invention (Note 56). The most lasting mark of honour of the celebration of 1823, the abstract monument by the Haarlem sculptor D. Douglas, also looked back to the sensibilities of the 18th century in its placing on the spot where the invention had come into being in the Haarlem Wood (Fig. 23, Note 59). After this Haarlem monument of 1823 had been adduced in the discussions about the statue in Mainz before 1829, Thorwaldsen's statue, which attracted great international attention, became a greater source of annoyance to the Dutch adversaries of Gutenberg after 1829 than the statue to the Belgian inventor Dirck Martens in Aalst (Note 63) or the projected monument to William Caxton in England. Jan Jacob Frederik. Noordziek summed up this dissatisfaction in his call in 1847 to 'uphold the honour of the fatherland', in which he pleaded for a monument that would surpass the Gutenberg statue and thus serve as an argument that would establish the Dutch claim for good (Note 64). The erection of this statue was further expressly intended to be an exclusively national affair: the citizens of the Netherlands must raise the money and only Dutch artists be charged with the execution. The general discussion about the statues appears to have been less virulent than was usually the case in the preliminaries to other monuments (Note 66), Coster's merits evidently being little contested within the country itself. There were two notable critical voices, however (see Appendix). Professor M. Siegenbeek rang the changes on an old Calvinist argument in refusing a seat on the preparatory committee: in addition to the fact that there were certainly more people who deserved statues, he pointed out that the great expense involved merely evinced ostentation and that the money would be better spent on social ends. The Neo-Classicist Humbert de Superville, on the other hand, did express doubts as to Coster's right to the title, repeating aesthetic arguments which had been adduced before: statues ought, in his view, to be made in the form of durable stone herms, but he thought there was as little chance of that in this 'age of modish lay-figures' in the bronze of melted-down coins, as that the statue would be made by a Dutchman (Note 67). A typical Romantic historical controversy threw the organizers into turmoil, namely the authenticity of the representations of Coster. In particular Westreenen van Tielland unmasked the idealizing and forged portraits, arguing against the erection of a historicizing representational statue. But the defenders of Coster's honour opted for the usual historical realism (Note 68). The tenor of these polemics is found again in the conflict over the 'historical or allegorical' nature of the composition, which can be seen in the designs. Louis Royer, to whom the commission was given in 1848, wanted to show Coster walking with a winged letter A in his hand, as if on his way to show people his discovery, which was soon to wing its way round the world (cf. Fig. 22). However, this allegorical element disappeared completely in the final version, in which the choice fell on a realistic portrait, albeit Coster was still shown walking like a classical predecessor, Archimedes, who could not keep his discovery to himself (Fig. 23, Note 69). The architect H. M. Tetar van Elven was commissioned to make a base in the style of 'the last era of the Middle Ages'. The inscriptions also presented problems, but were finally agreed on in September 1855. The ceremonies, which after all manner of altercation between Royer and the main committee (Note 70) and various financial problems, were finally able to be staged from 15 to 17 July) 1856, included, in addition to the actual unveiling of the statue on the marketplace ( Van Heerstal's statue being returned to the garden again) , pageants, meetings, an exhibition and all sorts of popular entertainments. Everything was on a grander and more extensive scale than 33 years before and little remained of the motif of enlightenment through printing which had been so important then. Nalionalistic merry-making now predominated, along with expressions of devotion to the House of Orange. Less emphasis was also given to the 'darkness' of the Middle Ages, which were now beginning to be valued as part of the nation's history. The most monumental homage to this monument was a 360-page account of the events by the indefatigable Noordziek. His dream of the recognition of Coster and the nation as a whole seemed to have become a reality. But it was not to be so for long. Only fifteen years after the unveiling A. van de Linde unmasked the' 'Haarlem Coster legend' and called for the demolition of the statue, again in the interests of the nation (Note 81).

The Routledge Handbook of language and culture represents a comprehensive study on the inextricable relationship between language and culture. It is structured into seven parts and 33 chapters. Part 1, Overview and historical background, by Farzad Sharifian, starts with an outline of the book and a synopsis of research on language and culture. The second chapter, John Leavitt’s Linguistic relativity: precursors and transformations discusses further the historical development of the concept of linguistic relativity, identifying different schools’ of thought views on the relation between language and culture. He also tries to demystify some misrepresentations held towards Boas, Sapir, and Whorf’ theories (pp. 24-26). Chapter 3, Ethnosyntax, by Anna Gladkova provides an overview of research on ethnosyntax, starting from the theoretical basis laid by Sapir and Whorf and investigates the differences between a narrow sense of ethnosyntax, which focuses on cultural meanings of various grammatical structures and a broader sense, which emphasises the pragmatic and cultural norms’ impact on the choice of grammatical structures. John Leavitt presents in the fourth chapter, titled Ethnosemantics, a historical account of research on meaning across cultures, introducing three traditions, i.e. ‘classical’ ethnosemantics (also referred to as ethnoscience or cognitive anthropology), Boasian cultural semantics (linguistically inspired anthropology) and Neohumboldtian comparative semantics (word-field theory, or content-oriented Linguistics). In Chapter 5, Goddard underlines the fact that ethnopragmatics investigates emic (or culture-internal) approaches to the use of different speech practices across various world languages, which accounts for the fact that there exists a connection between the cultural values or norms and the speech practices peculiar to a speech community. One of the key objectives of ethnopragmatics is to investigate ‘cultural key words’, i.e. words that encapsulate culturally construed concepts. The concept of ‘linguaculture’ (or languaculture) is tackled in Risager’s Chapter 6, Linguaculture: the language–culture nexus in transnational perspective. The author makes reference to American scholars that first introduced this notion, Paul Friedrich, who looks at language and culture as a single domain in which verbal aspects of culture are mingled with semantic meanings, and Michael Agar, for whom culture resides in language while language is loaded with culture. Risager himself brought forth a new global and transnational perspective on the concept of linguaculture, i.e. the use of language (linguistic practice) is seen as flows in people’s social networks and speech communities. These flows enhance as people migrate or learn new languages, in permanent dynamics. Lidia Tanaka’s Chapter 7, Language, gender, and culture deals with research on language, gender, and culture. According to her, the language-gender relationship has been studied by researchers from various fields, including psychology, linguistics, and anthropology, who mainly consider gender as a construct that preserves inequalities in society, with the help of language, too. Tanaka lists diachronically different approaches to language and gender, focusing on three specific ones: gender stereotyped linguistic resources, semantically, pragmatically or lexically designated language features (including register) and gender-based spoken discourse strategies (talking-time imbalances or interruptions). In Chapter 8, Language, culture, and context, Istvan Kecskes delves into the relationship between language, culture, and context from a socio-cognitive perspective. The author considers culture to be a set of shared knowledge structures that encapsulate the values, norms, and customs that the members of a society have in common. According to him, both language and context are rooted in culture and carriers of it, though reflecting culture in a different way. Language encodes past experience with different contexts, whereas context reflects present experience. The author also provides relevant examples of formulaic language that demonstrate the functioning of both types of context, within the larger interplay between language, culture, and context. Sara Miller’s Chapter 9, Language, culture, and politeness reviews traditional approaches to politeness research, with particular attention given to ‘discursive approach’ to politeness. Much along the lines of the previous chapter, Miller stresses the role of context in judgements of (im)polite language, maintaining that individuals represent active agents who challenge and negotiate cultural as well as linguistic norms in actual communicative contexts. Chapter 10, Language, culture, and interaction, by Peter Eglin focuses on language, culture and interaction from the perspective of the correspondence theory of meaning. According to him, abstracting language and culture from their current uses, as if they were not interdependent would not lead to an understanding of words’ true meaning. David Kronenfeld introduces in Chapter 11, Culture and kinship language, a review of research on culture and kinship language, starting with linguistic anthropology. He explains two formal analytic definitional systems of kinship terms: the semantic (distinctions between kin categories, i.e. father vs mother) and pragmatic (interrelations between referents of kin terms, i.e. ‘nephew’ = ‘child of a sibling’). Chapter 12, Cultural semiotics, by Peeter Torop deals with the field of ‘semiotics of culture’, which may refer either to methodological instrument, to a whole array of methods or to a sub-discipline of general semiotics. In this last respect, it investigates cultures as a form of human symbolic activity, as well as a system of cultural languages (i.e. sign systems). Language, as “the preserver of the culture’s collective experience and the reflector of its creativity” represents an essential component of cultural semiotics, being a major sign system. Nigel Armstrong, in Chapter 13, Culture and translation, tackles the interrelation between language, culture, and translation, with an emphasis on the complexities entailed by translation of culturally laden aspects. In his opinion, culture has a double-sided dimension: the anthropological sense (referring to practices and traditions which characterise a community) and a narrower sense, related to artistic endeavours. However, both sides of culture permeate language at all levels. Chapter 14, Language, culture, and identity, by Sandra Schecter tackles several approaches to research on language, culture, and identity: social anthropological (the limits at play in the social construction of differences between various groups of people), sociocultural (the interplay between an individual’s various identities, which can be both externally and internally construed, in sociocultural contexts), participatory-relational (the manner in which individuals create their social–linguistic identities). Patrick McConvell, in Chapter 15, Language and culture history: the contribution of linguistic prehistory reviews research in this field where historical linguistic evidence is exploited in the reconstruction and understanding of prehistoric cultures. He makes an account of research in linguistic prehistory, with a focus on proto- and early Indo-European cultures, on several North American language families, on Africa, Australian, and Austronesian Aboriginal languages. McConvell also underlines the importance of interdisciplinary research in this area, which greatly benefits from studies in other disciplines, such as archaeology, palaeobiology, or biological genetics. Part four starts with Ning Yu’s Chapter 16, Embodiment, culture, and language, which gives an account of theory and research on the interplay between language, culture, and body, as seen from the standpoint of Cultural Linguistics. Yu presents a survey of embodiment (in embodied cognition research) from a multidisciplinary perspective, starting with the rather universalistic Conceptual Metaphor Theory. On the other hand, Cultural Linguistics has concentrated on the role played by culture in shaping embodied language, as various cultures conceptualise body and bodily experience in different ways. Chapter 17, Culture and language processing, by Crystal Robinson and Jeanette Altarriba deals with research in the field of how culture influence language processing, in particular in the case of bilingualism and emotion, alongside language and memory. Clearly, the linguistic and cultural character of each individual’s background has to be considered as a variable in research on cognition and cognitive processing. Frank Polzenhagen and Xiaoyan Xia, in Chapter 18, Language, culture, and prototypicality bring forth a survey of prototypicality across different disciplines, including cognitive linguistics and cognitive psychology. According to them, linguistic prototypes play a critical part in social (re-)cognition, as they are socially diagnostic and function as linguistic identity markers. Moreover, individuals may develop ‘culturally blended concepts’ as a result of exposure to several systems of conceptual categorisation, especially in the case of L2 learning (language-contact or culture-contact situations). In Chapter 19, Colour language, thought, and culture, Don Dedrick investigates the issue of the colour words in different languages and how these influence cognition, a question that has been addressed by researchers from various disciplines, such as anthropology, linguistics, cognitive psychology, or neuroscience. He cannot but observe the constant debate in this respect, and he argues that it is indeed difficult to reach consensus, as colour language occasionally reveals effects of language on thought and, at other times, it is impervious to such effects. Chapter 20, Language, culture, and spatial cognition, by Penelope Brown concentrates on conceptualisations of space, providing a framework for thinking about and referring to objects and events, along with more abstract notions such as time, number, or kinship. She lists three frames of reference used by languages in order to refer to spatial relations, i.e. a) an ‘absolute’ coordinate system, like north, south, east, west; b) a ‘relative’ coordinate system envisaged from the body’s standpoint; and c) an intrinsic, object-centred coordinate system. Chris Sinha and Enrique Bernárdez focus on, in Chapter 21, Space, time, and space–time: metaphors, maps, and fusions, research on linguistic and cultural concepts of time and space, starting with the seminal Conceptual Metaphor Theory (CMT), which they denounce for failing to situate space–time mapping within the broader patterns of culture and world perspective. Sinha and Bernárdez further argue that although it is possible in all cultures for individuals to experience and discuss about events in terms of their duration and succession, the specific words and concepts they use to refer to temporal landmarks temporal and duration are most of the time language and culture specific. Chapter 22, Culture and language development, by Laura Sterponi and Paul Lai provides an account of research on the interplay between culture and language acquisition. They refer to two widely accepted perspectives in this respect: a developmental mechanism inherent in human beings and a set of particular social contexts in which children are ‘initiated’ into the cultural meaning systems. Both perspectives define culture as “both related to the psychological make-up of the individual and to the socio-historical contexts in which s/he is born and develops”. Anna Wierzbicka presents, in Chapter 23, Language and cultural scripts discusses representations of cultural norms which are encoded in language. She contends that the system of meaning interpretation developed by herself and her colleagues, i.e. Natural Semantic Metalanguage (NSM), may easily be used to capture and convey cultural scripts. Through NSM cross-cultural experiences can be captured in a thorough manner by using a reduced number of conceptual primes which seem to exist in all languages. Chapter 24, Culture and emotional language, by Jean-Marc Dewaele brings forth the issue of the relationship between language, culture, and emotion, which has been researched by cultural and cognitive psychologists and applied linguists alike, although with some differences in focus. He considers that within this context, it is important to see differences between emotion contexts in bilinguals, since these may lead to different perceptions of the self. He infers that generally, culture revolves around the experience and communication of emotions, conveyed through linguistic expression. The fifth part starts with Chapter 25, Language and culture in sociolinguistics, by Meredith Marra, who underlines that culture is a central concept in Interactional Sociolinguistics, where language is considered as social interaction. In linguistic interaction, culture, and especially cultural differences are deemed as a cause of potential miscommunication. Mara also remarks that the paradigm change in sociolinguistics, from Interactional Sociolinguistics to social constructionism reshaped ‘culture’ into a more dynamic as well as less rigid concept. Claudia Strauss’ Chapter 26, Language and culture in cognitive anthropology deals with the relationship between human society and human thought/thinking. The author contends that cognitive anthropologists may be subdivided into two groups, i.e. ones that are concerned with the process of thinking (cognition-in-practice scholars), and the others focusing on the product of thinking or thoughts (concerned with shared cultural understandings). She goes on to explore how different approaches to cognitive anthropology have counted on units of language, i.e. lexical items and their meanings, along with larger chunks of discourse, as information, which may represent learned cultural schemata. Part VI starts with Chapter 27, Language and culture in second language learning, by Claire Kramsch, in which she makes a survey of the definition of ‘culture’ in foreign language learning and its evolution from a component of literature and the arts to a more comprehensive purport, that of culturally appropriate use of language, along with an appropriate use of sociopragmatic and pragmalinguistic norms. According to her, in the postmodern era, communication is not only mere transmission of information, it represents construal and positioning of the self and of self-identity. Chapter 28, Writing across cultures: ‘culture’ in second language writing studies, by Dwight Atkinson focuses on the usefulness of culture in second-language writing (SLW). He reviews several approaches to the issue: contrastive rhetoric (dealing with the impact of first-language patterns of text organisation on writers in a second language), or even alternate notions, like‘ cosmopolitanism’, ‘critical multiculturalism’, and hybridity, as of late native culture is becoming irrelevant or at best far less significant. Ian Malcolm tackles, in Chapter 29, Language and culture in second dialect learning, the issue of ‘standard’ Englishes (e.g., Standard American English, Standard Australian English) versus minority ‘non-standard’ speakers of English. He deplores the fact that in US specialist literature, speaking the ‘non-standard’ variety of English was associated with cognitive, cultural, and linguistic insufficiency. He further refers to other specialists who have demonstrated that ‘non-standard’ varieties can be just as systematic and highly structured as the standard variety. Chapter 30, Language and culture in intercultural communication, by Hans-Georg Wolf gives an account of research in intercultural education, focusing on several paradigms, i.e. the dominant one, investigating successful functioning in intercultural encounters, the minor one, exploring intercultural understanding and the ‘deconstructionist, and or postmodernist’. He further examines different interpretations of the concepts associated with intercultural communication, including the functionalist school, the intercultural understanding approach and a third one, the most removed from culture, focusing on socio-political inequalities, fluidity, situationality, and negotiability. Andy Kirkpatrick’s Chapter 31, World Englishes and local cultures gives a synopsis of research paradigm from applied linguistics which investigates the development of Englishes around the world, through processes like indigenisation or nativisation of the language. Kirkpatrick discusses the ways in which new Englishes accommodate the culture of the very speech community which develops them, e.g. adopting lexical items to express to express culture-specific concepts. Speakers of new varieties could use pragmatic norms rooted in cultural values and norms of the specific new speech community which have not previously been associated with English. Moreover, they can use these new Englishes to write local literatures, often exploiting culturally preferred rhetorical norms. Part seven starts with Chapter 32, Cultural Linguistics, by Farzad Sharifian gives an account of the recent multidisciplinary research field of Cultural Linguistics, which explores the relationship between language and cultural cognition, particularly in the case of cultural conceptualisations. Sharifian also brings forth illustrations of how cultural conceptualisations may be linguistically encoded. The last chapter, A future agenda for research on language and culture, by Roslyn Frank provides an appraisal of Cultural Linguistics as a prospective path for research in the field of language and culture. She states that ‘Cultural Linguistics could potentially create a paradigm that “successfully melds together complementary approaches, e.g., viewing language as ‘a complex adaptive system’ and bringing to bear upon it concepts drawn from cognitive science such as ‘distributed cognition’ and ‘multi-agent dynamic systems theory’.” She further asserts that Cultural Linguistics has the potential to function as “a bridge that brings together researchers from a variety of fields, allowing them to focus on problems of mutual concern from a new perspective” and most likely unveil new issues (as well as solutions) which have not been evident so far. In conclusion, the Handbook will most certainly serve as clear and coherent guidelines for scholarly thinking and further research on language and culture, and also open up new investigative vistas in each of the areas tackled.

The aim of this thesis is to introduce, justify, and apply a better framework for analysing Sherlock Holmes, one of the most adapted characters of all time. The project works to resituate the focus of those involved in studying adaptations of Sherlock Holmes from an examination of the discrete transition of a text from page to screen, to the evolution of the character as it changes across various intertexts and through time. The purpose is to show that it is the character specifically, and not the literary text with its narrative, genric, and aesthetic qualifications, that is being adapted, and that with this in mind, studying adaptations of Sherlock Holmes should involve a study of the various processes, pressures, and mechanisms that shape, change, and define the character throughout its hundreds of screen afterlives. This thesis then analyses many of these processes with the aim of contributing to our understanding of how a character like Holmes is moulded through remediation. It takes into account how the character’s indices shift and accumulate as they are variously performed. It also considers how the mechanisms of selection function to privilege certain incarnations of the character, and how that privileging becomes a part of future readings. Finally, it addresses how reception and perception by audiences influence how the character is read, and thus how it is understood. By considering all of these aspects of the evolutionary process, and by avoiding a chronological or even a linear organization of the texts under scrutiny, this work seeks to offer a more complete answer to the question of how a single source can support a multitude of varied, even contradictory adaptations and remain relevant and interesting through the years.

xx, 800 p. : music. A print copy of this thesis is available through the UO Libraries. Search the library catalog for the location and call number.
Despite the immense popular and critical response given to the Harry Potter narrative and phenomenon, little has been written about the music for the Harry Potter films. I establish that the aesthetic differences that viewers perceive between the different Harry Potter films are largely due to the musical approaches of composers John Williams, Patrick Doyle, and Nicholas Hooper over the course of four director/composer collaborations for the first five films. This study provides a rare opportunity to examine the work of different composers for a continuing narrative. Moreover, when we explore how music is used in varied ways within the films, we see how each musical approach shapes film visuals into the narrative that the filmmakers sought to convey; when the music changes, the story changes. Music creates the geographic, cultural, and temporal landscapes that draw us in to Harry's 'muggle' and magical worlds. Music defines the way we perceive Harry's emotional experiences of love, joy, loss, and death, and also defines the philosophical perspectives on the nature of evil and its conquest. Sometimes, the music provides clues to the mystery long before visuals and dialogue address them, and musical relationships (with visuals and within the music itself) allow us to perceive the properties and powers of magic and humanity that may otherwise transpire unseen. Music also plays a role in the types of humor that are represented in the films--from socially-sanctioned transgressions, to macabre, to bawdy, deadpan, and caricature. However, while the core narrative themes in the films are closely related to the main themes in Rowling's original novels, an examination of how Rowling's descriptions of musical events compare with representations of these events in the films reveals that Rowling created a more nuanced social landscape (especially with regard to gender) than is re-contextualized with music in the films.
Committee in charge: Marian Smith, Chairperson, Music; Anne McLucas, Member, Music; Mark Levy, Member, Music; Carl Bybee, Outside Member, Journalism and Communication

Since Benoit de Sainte-Maure's creation of the Briseida story, Criseida has evolved as one of the most infamous heroines in European literature, an inconstant femme fatale. This study analyzes four different receptions of the Criseida story with a special emphasis on the antifeminist tradition. An interesting pattern arises from the ways in which four British writers render Criseida: Geoffrey Chaucer's Troilus and Crisevde is a response to the antifeminist tradition of the story (particularly to Giovanni Boccaccio's II Filostrato); Robert Henryson's Testament of Cresseid is a direct response to Chaucer's poem; William Shakespeare's Troilus and Cressida aligns itself with the antifeminist tradition, but in a different way; and John Dryden's Troilus and Cressida or Truth Found Too Late is a straight rewriting of Shakespeare's play. These works themselves form an interesting canon within the whole tradition. All four writers are not only readers of the continually evolving story of Criseida but also critics, writers, and literary historians in the Jaussian sense. They critique their predecessors' works, write what they have conceived from the tradition of the story, and reinterpret the old works in that historical context.

In response to the events on September the Eleventh, various media attempted to make sense of the seemingly radical altered political landscape. Comic books, though traditionally framed as low brow pulp, were no exception. This thesis is a work of rhetorical criticism. It applies Walter Fisher's Narrative Paradigm to a specific set of artifacts: John Ney Rieber and John Cassaday's six-part comic series, collectively titled Captain America: The New Deal (2010). The question that is the focus of this thesis is: Does The New Deal, framed as a response to the events surrounding September the Eleventh, form a rhetorically effective narrative? The analysis that follows demonstrates the importance of meeting audience expectations when presenting them with controversial viewpoints.
Graduation date: 2012

Trees, as threshold beings, effectively blur the line between the real world and fantastical alternate worlds, and destabilise traditional binary classification systems that distinguish humanity, and Culture, from Nature. Though the presence of trees is often peripheral to the main narrative action, their representation is necessary within the fantasy trope. Their consistent inclusion within fantasy texts of the twentieth century demonstrates an enduring arboreal legacy that cannot be disregarded in its contemporary relevance, whether they are represented individually or in collective forests. The purpose of my dissertation is to conduct a study of various prominent fantasy texts of the twentieth century, including the fantasy works of J.R.R. Tolkien, C.S. Lewis, Robert Holdstock, Diana Wynne Jones, Natalie Babbitt, and J.K. Rowling. In scrutinising these texts, and drawing on insights offered by liminal, ecocritical, ecofeminist, mythological and psychological theorists, I identify the primary function of trees within fantasy narratives as liminal: what Victor Turner identifies as a ‘betwixt and between’ state (1991:95) where binaries are suspended in favour of embracing potentiality. This liminality is constituted by three central dimensions: the ecological, the mythological, and the psychological. Each dimension informs the relationship between the arboreal as grounded in reality, and represented in fantasy. Trees, as literary and cinematic arboreal totems are positioned within fantasy narratives in such a way as to emphasise an underlying call to bio-conservatorship, to enable a connection to a larger scope of cultural expectation, and to act as a means through which human self-awareness is developed.
English Studies
D. Litt. et Phil. (English)

In addition to the celebrations of Gunpowder Day every November 5, Guy Fawkes appears in 17th-century literature as an arch-villain. Thomas Decker wrote a play in 1611 that encounters Guy in Hell. In 1614 in his play “Bartholomew Faire”; Ben Jonson’s character Lanthorn boasts of his success as a puppeteer with the topic of the Gunpowder Plot. In 1622 young John Milton wrote a 226-line poem in Latin referring to Gunpowder Treason. By 1641, Francis Herring could make Fawkes a son of the devil. The poem “Remember, Remember” reflects the later development of November 5. As the centuries went on, anti-Catholic sentiment in England finally diminished, making Fawkes even more the focus of what often now was called Guy Fawkes Day.

Chapter 2 examines the Gesta Grayorum, an account of the 1594-5 Christmas revels at Gray’s Inn, one of the English common-law societies and educational institutions. The Christmas revelers mounted a large mock court, and the elaborate entertainments for their fictional Prince of Purpoole were performed by and before a community of Inn members and associates that included common-law students, legal professionals, courtiers, parliamentarians, and statesmen. In their abridged parliament, they mock the general pardon that historically compensated for the numerous ‘snaring’ statutes that had accrued over the course of the sixteenth century. These statutes, which turned subjects into unintentional lawbreakers, found their way into Shakespeare’s comedies, like A Midsummer Night’s Dream and The Comedy of Errors, and John Donne’s satires. In parodying the terms and structure of the Elizabethan general pardon, the revelers target a legal-political device that publicly forgave select statutory infractions and broadcasted the sovereign’s merciful character. If the revels open with a mock parliament, Francis Bacon’s subsequent orations on government redirect the entertainments away from the comical errors of lawmakers and legal representatives toward the systematic reform of the fictional state.