Journal articles on the topic 'Psychological aspects of Irish mythology'

In our article, we paid attention to the history of the concept of archetype, studied and analyzed the concepts of archetypal plot, motive, and stopped at its place in literature, mythology, psychology, and culture. We paid special attention to the work of the Swiss scientist-psychologist C. G. Jung, who introduced the term archetype into science and studied it in psychological, philosophical, and cultural aspects. Having identified the first archetypal images shown by Jung, we made an analysis, giving importance to the role of the concept of" collective unconscious " in the archetype. In addition, we determined the scientific significance of philological research. The concepts of archetypal plot and archetypal motif introduced by the Russian scientist Meletensky were defined, and examples of archetypal motifs and plots in mythology were given. We have analyzed the concepts of myth and archetype, citing the scientific justifications in the literature. The development of the mythical motif in the works of modern Kazakh writers requires a detailed study of the concept of archetype. At all times, literature cannot separate itself from its original source –myth. Since the Archetype is closely related to mythology, we believe that the importance of this topic is very high today

The recent plays of Martin McDonagh have fascinated and repelled critics for nearly a decade. His idiosyncratic blend of rural Irish mythology and ‘in-yer-face’ aggression has both caused consternation and won high praise, but the motivations and inspirations of McDonagh's work have not been widely discussed. Here, Catherine Rees addresses some of the common critical assaults on one of his most contentious plays, The Lieutenant of Inishmore (2001), and seeks to rescue the playwright from misunderstanding and heavy-handed critical treatment. She also aims to clarify some of the issues surrounding this politically charged and controversial work, and discusses it within the wider context of British and Irish drama. An earlier version of this article was given as a paper at the ‘Contemporary Irish Literature: Diverse Voices’ conference at the University of Central Lancaster in April 2003. Rees has presented on various aspects of McDonagh's work at a joint American Conference for Irish Studies and British Association of Irish Studies conference, and is currently working on a PhD about his plays at the University of Wales, Aberystwyth.

Myths are metaphors that convey truth about the indescribable through powerful images and experiences. The mythological models synthesized by Joseph Campbell, such as the monomyth with its attendant metaphysical. cosmological, sociological, and psychological purposes, underscore the fundamental unity of human spiritual experience. The Bahá’í Faith employs three significant spiritual verities to fulfil the purposes of myth and to open for all Bahá’í the full depth and range of the world’s mythologies: The unknowable nature of the Ultimate Mystery; the relativity of religious/mythological truth; and the necessity of science and investigation of reality. The Bahá’í Faith also possesses a sacred drama—history as myth—from which the Bahá’í community takes its signposts for individual and collective development. All of these aspects of Bahá’í mythology are the basis for a coherent mythological landscape through which each human being must travel. The mythological universe created by Bahá’u’lláh frees the soul to experience and understand all mythologies, to explore and be awed by the physical universe understood by science and reason, and to undertake the universal adventure through which all may become fully human.

The paper analyses the philosophical aspects of the 'religion - national mythology' synthesis. The main directions of the study are as follows: 1. Both on the individual and social plan, the orientation of the transcending universalizing power of religion could vary depending on the macro-social movements a community /or an individual/ is involved in. For the individual as for the community, religion could be a cultural position transcending ego and ethno-centrism, mono-cultural tendencies; in situations of internal differentiation and disintegration of these entities, the universalizing binding role of religion is partialized and determined by various social groups, who are often in opposition to each other due to their economic political, ethnic, psychological features; 2. This process is usually related to the invalidation of universally uniting religious-moral bonds and values and intensification of differences: power, property, doctrinal differences to a shift of the weight center from internal spiritual movements /particularly typical of mysticism, asceticism, priesthood/ on to practical social action - reformist heresies, the various practical theologies of revolution, liberation, the religious-motivated wars; 3. When reduced to an ethnic, political, or state emblem, religious affiliation to Judaism, Islam Orthodoxy, Catholicism, Protestantism has become and still remain a tool for the sacralization of military and political conflicts. In religion-motivated conflict situations, opposing parties de-sacralize their Sacred Books as their acts contradict the books' moral content; 4. The power of historical mythologies is in reverse proportion to the capacity of a nation to periodically renew its social life world - its psychological attitudes labour relations, political stereotypes; 5. In this type of situation religion is usually reduced to 'belonging', as G. Davie put it, at the expense of 'believing' and a corresponding moral behavior. The religious universe becomes thus subordinated to partial group values, instead of standing above them.

In the advertisement prefacing Charles O’Conor’s Dissertations on the antient history of Ireland (1753), the editor challenged an unnamed gentleman who had, apparently, smeared the good name of the author. The editor, Michael Reily (who went under the cognomen ‘Civicus’) was intricately involved in this dispute from its early stages and did not spare any criticism for the individual he deemed responsible, Dr John Fergus, the erstwhile friend and associate of both Reily and O’Conor. ‘A Gentleman of great Reputation’ alleged Reily, had branded O’Conor with ‘the meanest Species of Immorality’. The dispute did not centre on some esoteric point of Irish mythology or any disagreement over issues of interpretation. It was not even, at least not in any direct way, a rift over political issues regarding the penal laws and the status of papists in the Irish polity, a tendency quite prevalent among the fissiparous Catholic organisations and pugilistic personalities of this period. Rather, it was wholly concerned with those most pertinent aspects of existence for an eighteenth century gentlemen – credit and honour. The disagreement was about Newton’s Chronology and its application to the Irish annalistic corpus as a means of validating the latter – not about the principle of its applicability, nor regarding the minutiae of dates or similar arcana, but to who should gain the credit for appropriating Newton’s prestige to such a particularly Irish topic.

The article considers psychological aspects of androgynous, dual human nature promoting harmonious relationship among the people, interaction between feminity and masculinity. The concepts of androgyne, androgynity and androgynization which correspond to cultural and socio-political conditions of traditional, modern and post-modern society are introduced. The article examines the history and evolution of the phenomenon of androgyne in ancient mythology, medieval religious philosophy, modern philosophy, present-day psychological science and practice. The author comes to the conclusion that there are two kinds of psychological androgynity: symbolic and real. The real androgynity became the subject of special psychological researches, caused the renunciation of the symbolic one and can be regarded as an important individual feature and human advantage. The transformation of the concept of androgyne is analyzed: from its interpretation as а first man to divine, ritual, psychological androgyne finally regarded as a "post-gender". The results of the study on "Psychological gender in socio-cultural dimension" conducted under the auspices of the Laboratory for Sociological Researches of MGIMO-University (School of International Journalism) are presented.

Purpose of the study: This study investigates the relevance of the aesthetic values to the cognitive values in the poetry of the Anglo-Irish poet Seamus Heaney 1939-2013. It examines “The Tollund Man,” “Servant Boy,” “Gifts of Rain” and “Limbo” from his poetry collection Wintering Out (1972), and focuses on their treatment of rebirth imagery and archetypes aiming to address their aesthetic and conceptual features. Methodology: The study approaches the poetry of Seamus Heaney using Northrop Frye’s critical archetypal approach to literature. It is based on examining the mythical aspects and archetypes of the literary text as a way to highlight its value, whether the aesthetic which is concerned with the artistic side of literature or the cognitive which is related to its epistemological value. Main Findings: The study concludes with the assumption that Heaney’s poetry, which is part of the modern poetic tradition, occasionally resorts to mythology as a way of intensifying its both aesthetic and cognitive values. The reason lies in the beauty mythology adds to the poetic creation, and the focus it sheds on the thematic features of the work. Applications of this study: This study proposes a creative-critical model that can help the scholars of literature, particularly those who study the cognitive value of literature and the literary archetypal theory to employ while dealing with literary texts that utilize mythical archetypes so as to distinguish their aesthetic and cognitive features. Novelty/Originality of this study: This study proposes an application of Frye’s theories to Heaney’s poetry which former scholarship on Heaney, and to the best of my knowledge, hasn’t examined. Besides, Frye’s archetypal theory is applied in a creative way seeking to examine the mythical aspects of Heaney’s poetry aiming to emphasize aspects that are not only cognitive and thematic but also cultural and aesthetic.

This study measured levels of psychological distress among a sample of Irish occupational therapy students. Students from all four undergraduate classes (n=102) were surveyed, using the General Health Questionnaire (GHQ-28). Over 40% of the students scored as having a ‘just significant clinical disturbance’ on the GHQ-28. Mean GHQ scores (or symptom levels) varied throughout the 4-year course and were highest just before examinations and during fieldwork placements. Students who had unhealthy diets or who smoked had significantly higher levels of psychiatric symptomatology. The prevalence of psychological distress among occupational therapy students was similar to that found in students from four other disciplines; however, the university students had much higher levels of symptomatology than the non-university peer group. The article concludes with some suggestions for dealing with stressful aspects of professional education and some recommendations for further research.

Aims1. To compare the experience of psychiatric trainees in Ireland of online Balint Groups (BG) in contrast to face to face groups.2. To assess the general attitudes of trainees to BG using the Psychological Medical Inventory (PMI) (Ireton and Sherman, 1988) scale.MethodAn online survey comprising two sections: 1. A questionnaire exploring participants experience, effectiveness and obstacles to attending the two formats of BG with a free text box response. 2. General attitude of trainees towards BG using PMI scale.An online cross-sectional survey using Survey Monkey. An invitation to participate in the survey was emailed to all trainees by the College of Psychiatrists in Ireland. All data were anonymised, and all data processing was conducted in line with GDPR. Statistical analysis was undertaken using Microsoft Excel. Thematic analysis was applied to the free-text box responses.Result16.49% (64/388) responded to the survey. Responses were uniform across all stages of training. 97% of respondents attended BG; 72% attended both formats, 25% attended only face-to-face and 3% online only. 65% of respondents preferred face to face compared to 18% online, whilst 11% stated no preference.On thematic analysis, trainees asserted a preference for face-to-face, describing better group cohesion, feeling safer to share, increased ease of interpreting non-verbal communication, and that conversation was more fluid. They described greater ease of engagement with the group/facilitator and preferred direct social interaction with peers.Conversely, most trainees acknowledged that online groups were convenient to attend, less time consuming & mitigated COVID risk associated with face-to-face meetings. Common themes against the use of online groups were: less psychotherapeutic in nature, technical issues, silences, unable to see participants faces and as though speaking “into the void”.Regarding trainees' attitudes to attending BG, most of the trainees found BG had been beneficial in developing more interest and confidence in dealing with the psychological aspects of patient care. Trainees agreed that skills improved in developing an excellent doctor-patient relationship, recognising patients under stress/ in distress, systemically obtaining psychological information and making treatment decisions based upon psychological needs and psychotherapeutic engagement. They agreed that they could better understand the influence of doctors' emotions on the doctor-patient relationship.ConclusionThis survey showed that most trainees find BG beneficial in developing better doctor-patient relationships, preferring face-to-face rather than online BG. However, they found online more convenient. A blended learning approach could provide trainees with the benefits of both formats of BG.

Aims: This study aimed to assess the validity of two models which integrate the cognitive (satisfaction with life) and affective (symptoms of anxiety and depression) aspects of subjective well-being within the framework of rational emotive behaviour therapy (REBT) theory; specifically REBT's theory of psychopathology and theory of psychological health. Method: 397 Irish and Northern Irish undergraduate students completed measures of rational/irrational beliefs, satisfaction with life, and anxiety/depression symptoms. Structural equation modelling techniques were used in order to test our hypothesis within a cross-sectional design. Results: REBT's theory of psychopathology (χ2 = 373.78, d.f. = 163, p < .001; comparative fit index (CFI) = .92; Tucker Lewis index (TLI) = .91; root mean square error of approximation (RMSEA) = .06 (95% CI = .05 to .07); standardized root mean square residual (SRMR) = .07) and psychological health (χ2 = 371.89, d.f. = 181, p < .001; CFI = .93; TLI = .92; RMSEA = .05 (95% CI = .04 to .06); SRMR = .06) provided acceptable fit of the data. Moreover, the psychopathology model explained 34% of variance in levels of anxiety/depression, while the psychological health model explained 33% of variance. Conclusions: This study provides important findings linking the fields of clinical and positive psychology within a comprehensible framework for both researchers and clinicians. Findings are discussed in relation to the possibility of more effective interventions, incorporating and targeting not only negative outcomes, but also positive concepts within the same model.

Irish medical schools attract an increasingly diverse student population and produce graduates who will practise in many parts of the world. There are particular implications in this for the planning and delivery of the undergraduate psychiatry curriculum. In all countries, mental health services struggle for equitable resourcing, and mental health care within general medical services remains relatively neglected. The traditional undergraduate psychiatry offering has been justifiably criticised for being excessively oriented towards secondary care when the vast majority of medical graduates will pursue careers in primary care or in specialties other than psychiatry. Recently published articles in the Irish Journal of Psychological Medicine address the current challenges and opportunities in providing an undergraduate experience that better prepares students for the mental health aspects of medical practice in a global context. We summarise and discuss these contributions and the recent Royal College of Psychiatrists publication Choose Psychiatry: Guidance for Medical Schools.

We analyse data collected from a survey of Northern Irish low-income households experiencing varying degrees of financial hardship and examine how debt affects health and health-related behaviours. Our results indicate that the subjective experience of feeling financially stressed has a robust relationship with most aspects of health, including ability to self-care, problems performing usual activities, pain problems and psychological health. In contrast, the size of the debt, the type of debt or the number of different lenders does not add any extra explanatory power. Additionally, our results indicate that the pathway from financial difficulties to worse health runs through worse diets and increased consumption of cigarettes and drugs. This research is timely as household debt burdens will soon surpass the high levels seen at the time of the financial crisis and the introduction of welfare reform in Northern Ireland will put additional strain on low-income households.

Purpose – The purpose of this paper is to examine the levels of job satisfaction (JS) and burnout among psychologists working in Irish community mental health teams (CMHTs), and the relationships between these factors and three relational predictors: teamwork, liaison with management/supervisor and relationships among co-workers. Associations with absenteeism and participants’ turnover potential were also explored. Design/methodology/approach – Participants were 77 psychologists currently working in CMHTs nationwide or who had left a CMHT in the previous three years. Findings – Liaison with management/supervisor and teamwork emerged as significant predictors of JS but not of burnout. Relationships among co-workers emerged as a significant predictor of two dimensions of burnout. JS and burnout levels had no overall significant association with absenteeism or turnover potential. Practical/implications – This study confirmed that well-known associations between relational aspects of one’s job and the levels of JS and burnout were also present in this sample of psychologists, highlighting the vulnerability of these professionals to the same risks that affect workers in positions requiring comparatively lower psychological-mindedness. Service providers need to consider this important factor in their efforts to enhance productivity and prevent turnover, and it can be addressed at no extra costs by optimising the use of existing resources. Originality/Value – This study is one of the first to focus on relational aspects of CMHTs considering a sample of psychologists. Furthermore, while the three relational factors considered have been examined before in their individual relationships to JS and burnout, this study investigates their interactions with each other.

John Keats’ ‘Ode to Psyche’ is steeped in mythology and dream symbolism, which encourages us to understand it from the perspective of depth psychology/archetypal criticism. The odes of John Keats have been studied from historicist, feminist, and biographical perspectives. This paper aims to complement these perspectives by elaborating the mythical dream imagery of the poem as referring symbolically to the process of psychic integration and poetic creativity. The paper also views the poem as exemplifying the need for a complementary ongoing communication between the conscious and the unconscious aspects of the mind to maintain a holistic psyche. Archetypal theory is used to frame the figurative structure of the poem as a symbolic mythical variant of the process of poetic creativity. The paper employs three theoretical constructs, namely syzygy or complementation of opposites; active imagination; and individuation, as a framework to analyze the poem from an archetypal perspective. Employing a depth psychological perspective to understand poetry enhances the aesthetic pleasure derived from reading poetry and enhances the 'healing effect' of poetry by illuminating the psychological connotations of the poem. The paper concludes by attempting to answer two research questions explored in the analysis. First, does archetypal perspective contribute to enhancing readers' aesthetic pleasure derived from reading poetry? Second, what are the theoretical contributions of the current analysis towards contemporary Jungian literary theory?

Superficially there are many parallels between the Chilembwe Rising of 1915 in Nyasaland and the Easter Rising of 1916 in Ireland – both were anti-colonial rebellions against British rule. One interesting difference, however, occurs in the way academics have treated John Chilembwe, leader of the Nyasaland Rising, and Patrick Pearse, one of the leaders of the Irish Rising and the man who was proclaimed head of state of the Provisional government of Ireland. For while much research on Pearse has dealt with his religious ideas, comparatively little on Chilembwe has looked in detail at his religious motivation – even though he was the leader of an independent church. This paper begins by looking at some of the major strands in the religious thinking of Pearse, before going on to concentrate on the people and ideas which influenced Chilembwe both in Nyasaland and the United States. It argues that while many of these ideas were initially influenced by radical evangelical thought in the area of racial injustice, Chilembwe's thinking in the months immediately preceding his rebellion became increasingly obsessed by the possibility that the End Time prophecies of the Book of Daniel might apply to the current political position in Nyasaland. The conclusion is that much more academic attention needs to be given to the millennial aspects of Chilembwe's thinking as a contributory motivation for rebellion.

AbstractThere are disagreements about the key factors affecting a line manager’s conflict management modes. Psychologists emphasise the role of the conflict situation and personal traits, while other scholars focus on the impact of organisational aspects in managing interpersonal conflict. This paper provides empirical evidence suggesting that three sets of factors, namely, situational, personal and organisational aspects, influence the mode of handling conflict by line managers. Mixed methods were used to collect primary data from 19 line managers and two human resources managers working in two Irish subsidiaries of multinational companies. Although the research design did not allow for a verification of whether each of those three sets of factors has a significant influence on managing conflict by line managers, the paper suggests that combining psychological and managerial approaches to managing conflict provides a fuller understanding of handling interpersonal conflict. It also provides original findings on how line managers handle interpersonal conflicts, contributing to a better understanding of the under-researched area of the actual role of line managers in dealing with negative HR aspects.

Recent data on the inequities in mortality, health, and access to health services experienced by the Traveller community in Ireland show higher rates of death by suicide and other sudden causes among members of this marginalized minority group than in the general population. Psychological literature on bereavement suggests that traumatic deaths and multiple deaths within a close network may be more likely to lead to complicated grief reactions. The aim of this study is to add to our understanding of the effects of the differential mortality rate by exploring how grief is experienced within the Traveller community in the context of bereavement from multiple deaths or sudden deaths (including suicide). Data from three semistructured focus group interviews with a total of 10 Traveller Community Health Worker participants (nine female and one male) were analyzed using Interpretative Phenomenological Analysis. Two master themes organized the salient phenomenological aspects of the grief experience: Living with Tragic Loss and Communicating Tragic Loss. A picture emerged of individual and community-level loss that is extensive, profound, and enduring. The sequelae of deaths by suicide include difficulties in coping, a search for meaning, and a pervasive sense of fear. Silence, the embodied act of giving voice to tragic loss, and strategies for managing disclosure of tragic deaths with children were all strong themes which emerged from the analysis. This study uses interpretative phenomenological analysis to generate a vivid picture of the lived psychological experience of grief as it is experienced by members of a minority group with above average rates of sudden and early deaths. This contributes to understanding the burden of health inequality in an underresearched population. Findings in relation to challenges in communicating with children about tragic deaths can be integrated into bereavement support resources.

Background: Older adults are the most at-risk of contracting severe acute respiratory syndrome coronavirus 2 (SARS-CoV-2), and among the most affected by measures put in place to prevent the spread of the virus. While the full effect of the public health measures, such as social distancing and wearing masks in public spaces, implemented since March 2020 are not yet known, it is expected that they will have a severely damaging effect on physical and psychological wellbeing. The Irish Longitudinal Study on Ageing (TILDA) has been researching the lives of older adults in Ireland since 2008 with data collection conducted at two-year intervals. With an established research infrastructure, TILDA was ideally placed to examine the effect of the coronavirus disease 2019 (COVID-19) pandemic on older adults. The aim of this study is to document the lives of older adults during the COVID-19 pandemic to understand the effect of the pandemic and public health responses on their wellbeing. Methods: Data was collected from TILDA participants via self-completion-questionnaire (SCQ). The SCQ contains ten sections that capture information on many aspects of people’s lives during the pandemic including, changes in behaviour and social interactions, physical and psychological wellbeing indicators, healthcare utilisation, and exposure to SARS-CoV-2. Ethical approval was granted by the National Research Ethics Committee (NREC). Conclusions: Research findings will be shared in a variety of formats including research reports and briefs, presentations, and academic papers. Data will be archived in the Irish Social Science Data Archive (ISSDA) and the Inter-university Consortium for Political and Social Research (ICPSR). As well as documenting the impact of the COVID-19 pandemic on older adults, findings from this study will provide important information to policy-makers as we respond to the damage caused by the COVID-19 pandemic.

The terrors of flying are as old as the dreams of it. The first flight of man, reported in Greek mythology, ended with the crashing down of Icarus. Today, planes have become indispensable. Air transport companies boast the fact that travel by air is the safest, despite the fact that fear is ever present. There is little knowledge about fears and passenger behavior. Accident statistics turn terrifying events into “cases”. Tribute is paid to “technical progress” and to “more quality of life.” Measures must be taken to reduce the reasons for apprehension to achieve some kind of rationally based safety to relate to behavior. One should, however, not aim to abolish fear to an irrational and unrealistic degree. Such induced behavior cannot be firm in a real crisis. Fears are founded upon social and personal reasons: (1) Predominantly sociological aspects: the fact of airplane disasters; obscurity of the causes and effects of such disasters; inadequate knowledge of technical facts; doubts about disaster prevention; and “technology trauma.” (2) Predominantly socio-psychological aspects: alien surroundings; isolation; don't know what to do; inescapability; and “Mogadishou-effect.” Anthropological and socio-cultural factors also have an impact.Fear of flying of pilot and crew: Their reasons for fear are related to the exact knowledge of dangers and risks, which are involved in economic and job efficiency oriented requirements and obligations. We recommend: improving information and explanation of risks and the related behavioral safety; improving technical means and management of disaster prevention along with appropriate mediation; courses to decrease fears of flying, including safety training; and decreasing potential conflict with airline personnel.

The general subject of this analysis is the presence of myths on social media, a heritage of the previous century’s mass culture, and in particular, for social movements. Social movements within networked communication are particularly endowed with mythologies, which draw on mass culture and on societies’ archetypal and psychological backgrounds. This fact justifies the hypothesis that the most effective and popular social movements resort to deeper mythological forms. The specific objective is to describe concrete myths in the language of digital social movements and to review the aspects of mythology in the scholarly literature on mythology from four fields. After tracing contents and impact, a qualitative analysis, focused on two examples justified by their digital origin, is performed: the “Anonymous” movement and “Je Suis Charlie” social mobilisation. Results show the persistence of two mythological motives: the profound hero’s monomyth, playing an essential identifying role, channelled through social networks, with hashtags as slogans, and the related myth of the shadow, the dark, “Anonymous” and hybrid identity. Connections and analogies with other recent examples are discussed ?such as the “Me Too” and “Black Lives Matter” cases?. The conclusion is the clear connection between these two myths and the communicative strength of social movements transmitted through social networks. El tema general de este análisis es la presencia de los mitos en las redes sociales, herencia de la cultura de masas del siglo anterior y en particular, en los movimientos sociales. Los movimientos sociales en las redes digitales se dotan de mitologías, sean retomadas del siglo anterior sean formas del fondo arquetípico y psicológico intemporal. Esta presencia justifica la hipótesis sobre si los movimientos más eficaces y populares recurren a formas mitológicas más profundas. El objetivo específico es describir mitos concretos que aparezcan en el lenguaje de los movimientos sociales específicamente digitales. Se revisan los rasgos de los mitos de acuerdo con los autores más prestigiosos de cuatro ámbitos científicos. Se extraen del rastreo de contenido e impacto dos ejemplos de origen digital: el movimiento «Anonymous» y la movilización social «Je Suis Charlie». Aplicando análisis heurístico, los resultados muestran la persistencia de dos motivos mitológicos muy concretos: el profundo monomito del héroe, que cumple un papel crucial identificativo en las canalizaciones mediante redes como Twitter, a partir del uso específico de los hashtags como eslóganes, y el mito asociado de la sombra, la identidad anónima, híbrida y oscura. Se presentan las funciones y analogías en otros movimientos recientes –como «Me Too» y «Black Lives Matter»–. Se concluye la conexión entre estos mitos y la fuerza comunicativa de los movimientos sociales que se transmiten en las redes.

The article describes the main thesis of the teaching of the Chuvash ethnic religion Sardash, which is based on the key principles of Zoroastrianism; highlights some of its history and research issues; analyzes the current state of the traditional faith and its importance in the life of the people. An attempt was also made to reveal the role of the religious factor in ethnic identification and the formation of the ethnic mentality of the Chuvash people from the historical and socio-cultural perspective. The problem is considered in three aspects: 1) the interaction of traditional religious belief of the Chuvashes with Orthodox Christianity; 2) the influence of Islam (the religion of the related Turkic peoples – Tatars and Bashkirs) on the mentality of the Chuvashes; 3) the functioning of the Chuvash ethnic religion Sardash in modern conditions. The authors conclude that ethnic religion, which is preserved in the daily life of the Chuvashes in the form of «teaching of ancestors», as well as in prayers, mythology and folklore, forms the basis of centuries-old ethnic mentality, expressing spiritual values, behavioral principles and life aspirations of people. Ethnic religion contains the psychological roots of the Chuvash mentality, the phenomenon of the Chuvash inflexibility and the Chuvash character. Traditional faith has a profound impact on the lifestyle and behavior of many modern Chuvashes, determines their worldview and ethnic identity. The adherence of the Chuvash people to the «teaching of ancestors» is explained by the need to survive in difficult geopolitical and demographic conditions, the desire to preserve the lifestyles and social arrangements that have been established for centuries, and the aspiration to communal and economic well-being. In modern conditions, the rites of the Chuvash ethnic religion can be a significant factor in the development of ethnic tourism in the Chuvash Republic.

From certain point of view a desperate defense of an aesthetic doctrine of classicism, undertaken by Jan Śniadecki, a Polish mathematician and astronomer of the eighteenth century, resembles the E. R. Curtius’ thesis on “Latinism” as a universal factor integrating European culture; it may be stated that post-Stanislavian classical writers in Poland were driven by the same “concern for the preservation of Western culture” which motivated Ernst Robert Curtius in the times of the Third Reich and after its collapse. But the noble-minded intentions were in both cases grounded on similarly distorted perspective, which ensued from a mistificatory attitude towards a non-Latin heritage of the European culture. The range of that mystification or delusion has been fully revealed by findings made by modern so-called new comparative mythology/philology. Another aspect of the problem is an uniform model of the Middle Ages, partially correlated with the Enlightenment-based stereotype of “the dark Middle Ages”, which despite of its anachronism existed in literary studies for a surprisingly long period of time. Although the Romantic Movement of 18th – 19th centuries has been quite correctly acknowledged as an anti-Latinistic upheaval, its real connections with certain traditions of Middle Ages still remain not properly understood. Some concepts concerning Macpherson’s The Works of ossian, put forward by modern ethnology, may yield clues to the research on the question. As suggested by Joseph Falaky Nagy, Macpherson’s literary undertaking may by looked into as a parallel to Acallam na Senórach compiled in Ireland between 11th and 13th centuries: in both cases to respond to threats to the Gaelic culture there arose a literary monument and compendium of the commendable past with the core based on the Fenian heroic tradition that was the common legacy for the Irish and Highlanders. Taking into consideration some other evidence, it can be ascertained that Celtic and Germanic revival initiated in the second half of 18th century was not only one of the most important impulses for the Romantic Movement, but it was also, in a sense, an actual continuation of the efforts of mediaeval writers and compilers (Geoffrey of Monmouth, Snorri Sturluson, Saxo Grammaticus, anonymous compilers of Lebor gabála Érenn and Acallam, Wincenty Kadłubek), who would successfully combine Latin, i.e. classical, and ecclesiastical erudition with a desire to preserve and adapt in a creative way their own “pagan” and “barbarian” legacy. A special case of this (pre)Romantic revival concerns Slavic cultures, in particular the Polish one. Lack of source data on the oldest historical and cultural tradition of Slavic languages, especially in the Western region, and no record about Slavic tradition in highbrow literary culture induced two solutions: the first one was a production of philological forgeries (like Rukopis královédvorský and Rukopis zelenohorský), the second one was an attempt to someway reconstruct that lost heritage. Works of three Romantic historians, W. Surowiecki, W. A. Maciejowski, F. H. Lewestam, shows the method. Seemingly contradicting theories they put forward share common ground in aspects which are related to the characteristics of the first Slavic societies: a sense of being native inhabitants, pacifism, rich natural resources based on highly-effective agriculture, dynamic demography, a flattened social hierarchy and physical prowess. The fact of even greater importance is that the image of that kind has the mythological core, the circumstance which remains hitherto unnoticed. Polish historians not only tended to identify historical ancient Slavs with mythical Scandinavian Vanir (regarding it obvious), but also managed to recall the great Indo-European theme of ”founding conflict” (in Dumézilian terms), despite whole that mythological model being far beyond the horizon of knowledge at that time. Despite all anachronisms, lack of knowledge and instrumental involvement in aesthetic, political or religious ideology, Romanticism really started the restitution of the cultural legacy of the Middle Ages, also in domain of linguistic and philological research. The consequences of that fact should be taken into account in literary history studies.

One article describes the writings of Uldis Bērziņš, one of the most prominent Latvian poets and translators (and also a dissident) who made his debut in the 1960s. It focuses on the aspect of time and space. The 20th century is a time of re-evaluation of values and of a search for new ways of self-expression. Entrenched mythical notions experience transformation and renaissance. Hystorical myths as a source of instigation for Latvian literature (also in folklore) reach their climax in the 1920-40s and 1960-80s, i.e. in a period when problems of ethnic identity were emphasized more than ever. Uldis Bērziņš in his poetry successfully blends trends of modernism (and some of postmodernism) with mythical reality. He thereby refreshes the message of Latvian life, as well as reinforces particular trends common for whole humankind, which the author accomplishes with the help of cultural signs densely introduced into the texts. The objective of the paper is therefore to identify and emphasize dominant details of mythical time and space in the following anthologies by the Uldis Bērziņš: „Piemineklis kazai” („A Goat’s Monument”, 1980), „Poētisms baltkrievs” („The Poetism Belarussian”, 1984), „Nenotikuši atentāti” („Assassinations which never took place”, 1990), „Laiks” („Time”, together with Juris Kronbergs, 1994) and „Nozagti velosipēdi” („Stolen bicycles”, 1999). For the more detailed description of the peculiarities of the author’s works and for understanding the connection between the linguistic elements and the ethnical specifics of thinking, it was decided to use methods which are new to Latvian literary theory and are not so commonly referred to. Namely, a philological method was used for the in-depth text analysis (Николина 2007), and a linguo-culturological one for researching the connection of language and culture (Хороленко 2006). Speaking about U. Bērziņš’ notion of mythical time and space, it is referred to as an „eternal now” situation, which also includes details of historical and psychological time and space. However, mythical time and space is dominant: texts of the poems contain a very dense layer of mythologems (Odin, Odysseus, Thor), images (trees, mountains, wheels) and mythical concepts. This layer very often merges with the layers of folklore and religion which are introduced into the texts by means of stylization and reminiscences or allusions. The paper is organized according to the three dominant features of myths in the texts of Uldis Bērziņš – dichotomy, cyclicity, and syncretism. These are revealed with the help of particularly rich micro details and cultural signs and the transformation of folklore motives. Dichotomy as a disclosure of two aspects of one whole is carried out in the artistic space within the oppositions here and there, on the top and on the bottom, center and periphery, or insider and alien. These are characterized by symbolic notions of a mountain or a bridge, images of Riga and the Daugava, as well as the introduction of a mediator (a goat, bird or a ghost), which reach over the borders of time and space. Thereby the poet emphasizes fundamental ontological aspects which are concentrated in the semantic meanings of the notions of time, eternity and lifetime. In turn, by means of linguistic elements (not only semes, but also syntactical structure and pragmatic elements) Uldis Bērziņš pays attention to the multifunctionality and uniqueness of a language, and is trying to reach the level of a parent language. Within these dichotomies, the images, motives and signs also actualize a historic time and space. Thereby, a background for the disclosure of subtextual layers is organized, and simultaneously a point of view for several artistic chronotopes is expressed, which is interpreted as a symbiotic process in the poetry of Uldis Bērziņš. The search of oneself in the context of eternity is expressed with the help of the cyclicity principle. This is at the same time a tool for the illustration of different time spaces, which creates a synthesized model of an artistic world with a polyphony of linguistic elements. The cyclicity indicators in the poetry of Uldis Bērziņš are the images of a wheel, mill, and ball, as well as the interaction of the change of cycles of nature and human life. Special attention is paid to the points of intersection of time, thereby marking the Latvian year and the course of human life. In addition, the acknowledgment that the cycle is never-ending and repetitive, makes us look for interconnections with the philosophy of existentialism and a possible fulfillment of the meaning of life. Syncretism, on the contrary, as a combination of several different traditions, allows Uldis Bērziņš to emphasize features of cultural, linguistic and ethnic identity. In the united whole, i.e. in the interpretations of a sign, motive, image or myth, there is an accumulation of a few notions that create a peculiar effect of surrealism in a poetic text. For Bērziņš, syncretism is discovered in an image of a city, a sound, personal names (Peteris, Juris), religious characters (Jesus Christ, Krishna), and myths of the creation of the world. To find features of syncretism in a text, a reader does not only have to have some knowledge of mythology, religion, or culturology, but also needs associative thinking, since the poet often plays with phonemes and facts by linking them in rhythmically symbolic combinations. To sum up Uldis Bērziņš’ notions of mythical time and space, it can be concluded that the poet successfully uses the means of language, its meanings, its peculiar functions and associative nets in order to create a synthesized model of the mythical, historical, and psychological time space. This requires additional attention from a reader, because each poem is a subtextually dense discloser of a cultural heritage and an indicator of the search of oneself.

The Brazilian author Paulo Coelho is a winner of Guinness Book of World Records and the world ambassador of psychological literature. The present paper intends to study the selected works of Paulo Coelho in the light of the reputed American mythologist and psychoanalyst Joseph Campbell’s theory on Emanations which is depicted in his seminal work The Hero With A Thousand Faces. Campbell’s thoughts revolving around mythology, metaphysics, and psychology, forming the structural principles of literature, do essentially evolve a story pattern. Campbell like Freud and Jung regards dreams highly significant, as dreams provide a thoughtstructure and express the unconscious. Campbell’s psychoanalytical theory largely bears on that of Jung. For Campbell myths and dreams have their origin in the unconscious wells of fantasy, though they may differ on some aspects. He considers the mythic heroes as archetypes representing the collective unconscious and, also as the versions of those archetypes both in spiritual and psychological terms. The paper intends to develop the mythical and psychological bearings in the novels of Coelho as it describes the adventure, quest, and transformation of the hero, supernatural power, occult rituals, destiny, and the interpretations of dreams in the Jungian terms, besides retaining their fictional element. Coelho’s novels The Pilgrimage, The Alchemist and The Zahir very well exemplify that how can a literary writer translate the myths which contain the eternal values afresh in terms of the existing realities through the use of the modern psychology.

The subject of theoretical revision is the impairment of social cognition, which is wellknown in the clinics of borderline personality disorders. Mentalization is understood as a form of social cognition, which allows to perceive, imagine and emotionally relate, make sense and causality of what’s happening in a subjective world – of self and another person. Mentalization supposes integration of contextual factors, material and physical aspects of situation and behavior, as well as inner subjective feelings, beliefs, goals and intentional states as representative motives for a given behavior. In the perspective of the cultural-historical theory and methodology by L.S. Vygotsky a new interpretation is offered for the clinical phenomena of mentalizationdeficit, an understanding is given for transformation of its structure and functions as a consequence of the person’s loss of interpsychic social connections and disintegration of intrapsychic organization of consciousness, impairment of its systemic structure, narrowing and simplification of cross-functional bonds and intrapsychic “mythology”. In the result of this double destruction of bonds, ontogenetically early and primitiveforms of mentalization are «splitting off», isolated and start holding a domineering position in psychic functioning. The process of mentalization regresses to its pre-categorical and cognitive-affective non-differentiated levels and structures (syncretic and complex organization), unfolding involuntarily and unconsciously, lacking meaningful coherence, symbolic mediation and focus for understanding thesubjective world – of self and the Other. The unconscious substitution of the psychic picture of the inner world with impulsive actions, hypochondriac and narcissistic fixations, autistic pseudo-mentalization and manipulation is lacking the meaningful and sanguineous dialogue with the Other. The loss of social connections (interpsychic communication), without being mediated by the addressed to the Other speech dialogue is interiorized into the inner “muteness” – the loss of not only understanding of others, but the interruption of meaningful inner and “worded” dialogue with the self, self-understanding. Keywords: mentalization disorders, cultural-historical approach, structure-functional disorganization.

This paper compares the debate quality in the plenary sessions of an Irish Citizens’ Assembly and an Irish parliamentary committee to assess the epistemic effects of public deliberation on a contentious subject: abortion. The unusual occurrence of a similar process of detailed discussion on the same topic in different institutions at around the same time (in 2016–2017) allows us to compare the deliberative capacities of these institutions and thus contribute to discussions on the appropriateness of an increasingly debated democratic reform: assigning political offices by lot. We suggest that the epistemic effect of deliberation on abortion should facilitate nuanced multi-layered discussion that is both ‘deeper’ in being based on multi-faceted arguments and ‘wider’ in terms of a more accommodative view. We anticipate that these effects should be more pronounced in the more deliberative, less polarized, environment of a citizens’ assembly rather than in a parliamentary committee. The analysis deploys the psychological concept of ‘cognitive complexity’. We find that members of the Citizens’ Assembly demonstrate a deeper cognitively complex grasp of the subject matter. In contrast, experts and parliamentarians tend to adjust their mode of delivery at a parliamentary committee reflecting the conflictual and strategic aspects of political debates in such a forum.

IntroductionThe common origin of the adjective “corporeal” and the noun “corpse” in the Latin root corpus points to the value of mortuary practices for investigating how the human body is objectified. In post-mortem rituals, the body—formerly the manipulator of objects—becomes itself the object that is manipulated. Thus, these funerary rituals provide a type of double reflexivity, where the object and subject of manipulation can be used to reciprocally illuminate one another. To this extent, any consideration of corporeality can only benefit from a discussion of how the body is objectified through mortuary practices. This paper offers just such a discussion with respect to a selection of two contrasting mortuary practices, in the context of the prehistoric past and the Classical Era respectively. At the most general level, we are motivated by the same intellectual impulse that has stimulated expositions on corporeality, materiality, and incarnation in areas like phenomenology (Merleau-Ponty 77–234), Marxism (Adorno 112–119), gender studies (Grosz vii–xvi), history (Laqueur 193–244), and theology (Henry 33–53). That is to say, our goal is to show that the body, far from being a transparent frame through which we encounter the world, is in fact a locus where historical, social, cultural, and psychological forces intersect. On this view, “the body vanishes as a biological entity and becomes an infinitely malleable and highly unstable culturally constructed product” (Shilling 78). However, for all that the cited paradigms offer culturally situated appreciations of corporeality; our particular intellectual framework will be provided by cognitive science. Two reasons impel us towards this methodological choice.In the first instance, the study of ritual has, after several decades of stagnation, been rewarded—even revolutionised—by the application of insights from the new sciences of the mind (Whitehouse 1–12; McCauley and Lawson 1–37). Thus, there are good reasons to think that ritual treatments of the body will refract historical and social forces through empirically attested tendencies in human cognition. In the present connection, this means that knowledge of these tendencies will reward any attempt to theorise the objectification of the body in mortuary rituals.In the second instance, because beliefs concerning the afterlife can never be definitively judged to be true or false, they give free expression to tendencies in cognition that are otherwise constrained by the need to reflect external realities accurately. To this extent, they grant direct access to the intuitive ideas and biases that shape how we think about the world. Already, this idea has been exploited to good effect in areas like the cognitive anthropology of religion, which explores how counterfactual beings like ghosts, spirits, and gods conform to (and deviate from) pre-reflective cognitive patterns (Atran 83–112; Barrett and Keil 219–224; Barrett and Reed 252–255; Boyer 876–886). Necessarily, this implies that targeting post-mortem treatments of the body will offer unmediated access to some of the conceptual schemes that inform thinking about human corporeality.At a more detailed level, the specific methodology we propose to use will be provided by conceptual blending theory—a framework developed by Gilles Fauconnier, Mark Turner, and others to describe how structures from different areas of experience are creatively blended to form a new conceptual frame. In this system, a generic space provides the ground for coordinating two or more input spaces into a blended space that synthesises them into a single output. Here this would entail using natural or technological processes to structure mortuary practices in a way that satisfies various psychological needs.Take, for instance, W.B. Yeats’s famous claim that “Too long a sacrifice / Can make a stone of the heart” (“Easter 1916” in Yeats 57-8). Here, the poet exploits a generic space—that of everyday objects and the effort involved in manipulating them—to coordinate an organic input from that taxonomy (the heart) with an inorganic input (a stone) to create the blended idea that too energetic a pursuit of an abstract ideal turns a person into an unfeeling object (the heart-as-stone). Although this particular example corresponds to a familiar rhetorical figure (the metaphor), the value of conceptual blending theory is that it cuts across distinctions of genre, media, language, and discourse level to provide a versatile framework for expressing how one area of human experience is related to another.As indicated, we will exploit this versatility to investigate two ways of objectifying the body through the examination of two contrasting mortuary practices—cremation and inhumation—against different cultural horizons. The first of these is the conceptualisation of the body as an object of a technical process, where the post-mortem cremation of the corpse is analogically correlated with the metallurgical refining of ore into base metal. Our area of focus here will be Bronze Age cremation practices. The second conceptual scheme we will investigate focuses on treatments of the body as a vegetable object; here, the relevant analogy likens the inhumation of the corpse to the planting of a seed in the soil from which future growth will come. This discussion will centre on the Classical Era. Burning: The Body as Manufactured ObjectThe Early and Middle Bronze Age in Western Europe (2500-1200 BCE) represented a period of change in funerary practices relative to the preceding Neolithic, exemplified by a move away from the use of Megalithic monuments, a proliferation of grave goods, and an increase in the use of cremation (Barrett 38-9; Cooney and Grogan 105-121; Brück, Material Metaphors 308; Waddell, Bronze Age 141-149). Moreover, the Western European Bronze Age is characterised by a shift away from communal burial towards single interment (Barrett 32; Bradley 158-168). Equally, the Bronze Age in Western Europe provides us with evidence of an increased use of cist and pit cremation burials concentrated in low-lying areas (Woodman 254; Waddell, Prehistoric 16; Cooney and Grogan 105-121; Bettencourt 103). This greater preference for lower-lying location appears to reflect a distinctive change in comparison to the distribution patterns of the Neolithic burials; these are often located on prominent, visible aspects of a landscape (Cooney and Grogan 53-61). These new Bronze Age burial practices appear to reflect a distancing in relation to the territories of the “old ancestors” typified by Megalithic monuments (Bettencourt 101-103). Crucially, the Bronze Age archaeological record provides us with evidence that indicates that cremation was becoming the dominant form of deposition of human remains throughout Central and Western Europe (Sørensen and Rebay 59-60).The activities associated with Bronze Age cremations such as the burning of the body and the fragmentation of the remains have often been considered as corporeal equivalents (or expressions) of the activities involved in metal (bronze) production (Brück, Death 84-86; Sørensen and Rebay 60–1; Rebay-Salisbury, Cremations 66-67). There are unequivocal similarities between the practices of cremation and contemporary bronze production technologies—particularly as both processes involve the transformation of material through the application of fire at temperatures between 700 ºC to 1000 ºC (Musgrove 272-276; Walker et al. 132; de Becdelievre et al. 222-223).We assert that the technologies that define the European Bronze Age—those involved in alloying copper and tin to produce bronze—offered a new conceptual frame that enabled the body to be objectified in new ways. The fundamental idea explored here is that the displacement of inhumation by cremation in the European Bronze Age was motivated by a cognitive shift, where new smelting technologies provided novel conceptual metaphors for thinking about age-old problems concerning human mortality and post-mortem survival. The increased use of cremation in the European Bronze Age contrasts with the archaeological record of the Near Eastern—where, despite the earlier emergence of metallurgy (3300–3000 BCE), we do not see a notable proliferation in the use of cremation in this region. Thus, mortuary practices (i.e. cremation) provide us with an insight into how Western European Bronze Age cultures mediated the body through changes in technological objects and processes.In the terminology of conceptual blending, the generic space in question centres on the technical manipulation of the material world. The first input space is associated with the anxiety attending mortality—specifically, the cessation of personal identity and the extinction of interpersonal relationships. The second input space represents the technical knowledge associated with bronze production; in particular, the extraction of ore from source material and its mixing with other metals to form an alloy. The blended space coordinates these inputs to objectify the human body as an object that is ritually transformed into a new but more durable substance via the cremation process. In this contention we use the archaeological record to draw a conceptual parallel between the emergence of bronze production technology—centring on transition of naturally occurring material to a new subsistence (bronze)—and the transitional nature of the cremation process.In this theoretical framework, treating the body as a mixture of substances that can be reduced to its constituents and transformed through technologies of cremation enabled Western European Bronze Age society to intervene in the natural process of putrefaction and transform the organic matter into something more permanent. This transformative aspect of the cremation is seen in the evidence we have for secondary burial practices involving the curation and circulation of cremated bones of deceased members of a group (Brück, Death 87-93). This evidence allows us to assert that cremated human remains and objects were considered products of the same transformation into a more permanent state via burning, fragmentation, dispersal, and curation. Sofaer (62-69) states that the living body is regarded as a person, but as soon as the transition to death is made, the body becomes an object; this is an “ontological shift in the perception of the body that assumes a sudden change in its qualities” (62).Moreover, some authors have proposed that the exchange of fragmented human remains was central to mortuary practices and was central in establishing and maintaining social relations (Brück, Death 76-88). It is suggested that in the Early Bronze Age the perceptions of the human body mirrored the perceptions of objects associated with the arrival of the new bronze technology (Brück, Death 88-92). This idea is more pronounced if we consider the emergence of bronze technology as the beginning of a period of capital intensification of natural resources. Through this connection, the Bronze Age can be regarded as the point at which a particular natural resource—in this case, copper—went through myriad intensive manufacturing stages, which are still present today (intensive extraction, production/manufacturing, and distribution). Unlike stone tool production, bronze production had the addition of fire as the explicit method of transformation (Brück, Death 88-92). Thus, such views maintain that the transition achieved by cremation—i.e. reducing the human remains to objects or tokens that could be exchanged and curated relatively soon after the death of the individual—is equivalent to the framework of commodification connected with bronze production.A sample of cremated remains from Castlehyde in County Cork, Ireland, provides us with an example of a Bronze Age cremation burial in a Western European context (McCarthy). This is chosen because it is a typical example of a Bronze Age cremation burial in the context of Western Europe; also, one of the authors (MG) has first-hand experience in the analysis of its associated remains. The Castlehyde cremation burial consisted of a rectangular, stone-lined cist (McCarthy). The cist contained cremated, calcined human remains, with the fragments generally ranging from a greyish white to white in colour; this indicates that the bones were subject to a temperature range of 700-900ºC. The organic content of bone was destroyed during the cremation process, leaving only the inorganic matrix (brittle bone which is, often, described as metallic in consistency—e.g. Gejvall 470-475). There is evidence that remains may have been circulated in a manner akin to valuable metal objects. First of all, the absence of long bones indicates that there may have been a practice of removing salient remains as curatable records of ancestral ties. Secondly, remains show traces of metal staining from objects that are no longer extant, which suggests that graves were subject to secondary burial practices involving the removal of metal objects and/or human bone. To this extent, we can discern that human remains were being processed, curated, and circulated in a similar manner to metal objects.Thus, there are remarkable similarities between the treatment of the human body in cremation and bronze metal production technologies in the European Bronze Age. On the one hand, the parallel between smelting and cremation allowed death to be understood as a process of transformation in which the individual was removed from processes of organic decay. On the other hand, the circulation of the transformed remains conferred a type of post-mortem survival on the deceased. In this way, cremation practices may have enabled Bronze Age society to symbolically overcome the existential anxiety concerning the loss of personhood and the breaking of human relationships through death. In relation to the former point, the resurgence of cremation in nineteenth century Europe provides us with an example of how the disposal of a human body can be contextualised in relation to socio-technological advancements. The (re)emergence of cremation in this period reflects the post-Enlightenment shift from an understanding of the world through religious beliefs to the use of rational, scientific approaches to examine the natural world, including the human body (and death). The controlled use of fire in the cremation process, as well as the architecture of crematories, reflected the industrial context of the period (Rebay-Salisbury, Inhumation 16).With respect to the circulation of cremated remains, Smith suggests that Early Medieval Christian relics of individual bones or bone fragments reflect a reconceptualised continuation of pre-Christian practices (beginning in Christian areas of the Roman Empire). In this context, it is claimed, firstly, that the curation of bone relics and the use of mobile bone relics of important, saintly individuals provided an embodied connection between the sacred sphere and the earthly world; and secondly, that the use of individual bones or fragments of bone made the Christian message something portable, which could be used to reinforce individual or collective adherence to Christianity (Smith 143-167). Using the example of the Christian bone relics, we can thus propose that the curation and circulation of Bronze Age cremated material may have served a role similar to tools for focusing religiously oriented cognition. Burying: The Body as a Vegetable ObjectGiven that the designation “the Classical Era” nominates the entirety of the Graeco-Roman world (including the Near East and North Africa) from about 800 BCE to 600 CE, there were obviously no mortuary practices common to all cultures. Nevertheless, in both classical Greece and Rome, we have examples of periods when either cremation or inhumation was the principal funerary custom (Rebay-Salisbury, Inhumation 19-21).For instance, the ancient Homeric texts inform us that the ancient Greeks believed that “the spirit of the departed was sentient and still in the world of the living as long as the flesh was in existence […] and would rather have the body devoured by purifying fire than by dogs or worms” (Mylonas 484). However, the primary sources and archaeological record indicate that cremation practices declined in Athens circa 400 BCE (Rebay-Salisbury, Inhumation 20). With respect to the Roman Empire, scholarly opinion argues that inhumation was the dominant funerary rite in the eastern part of the Empire (Rebay-Salisbury, Inhumation 17-21; Morris 52). Complementing this, the archaeological and historical record indicates that inhumation became the primary rite throughout the Roman Empire in the first century CE. Inhumation was considered to be an essential rite in the context of an emerging belief that a peaceful afterlife was reflected by a peaceful burial in which bodily integrity was maintained (Rebay-Salisbury, Inhumation 19-21; Morris 52; Toynbee 41). The question that this poses is how these beliefs were framed in the broader discourses of Classical culture.In this regard, our claim is that the growth in inhumation was driven (at least in part) by the spread of a conceptual scheme, implicit in Greek fertility myths that objectify the body as a seed. The conceptual logic here is that the post-mortem continuation of personal identity is (symbolically) achieved by objectifying the body as a vegetable object that will re-grow from its own physical remains. Although the dominant metaphor here is vegetable, there is no doubt that the motivating concern of this mythological fabulation is human mortality. As Jon Davies notes, “the myths of Hades, Persephone and Demeter, of Orpheus and Eurydice, of Adonis and Aphrodite, of Selene and Endymion, of Herakles and Dionysus, are myths of death and rebirth, of journeys into and out of the underworld, of transactions and transformations between gods and humans” (128). Thus, such myths reveal important patterns in how the post-mortem fate of the body was conceptualised.In the terminology of mental mapping, the generic space relevant to inhumation contains knowledge pertaining to folk biology—specifically, pre-theoretical ideas concerning regeneration, survival, and mortality. The first input space attaches to human mortality; it departs from the anxiety associated with the seeming cessation of personal identity and dissolution of kin relationships subsequent to death. The second input space is the subset of knowledge concerning vegetable life, and how the immersion of seeds in the soil produces a new generation of plants with the passage of time. The blended space combines the two input spaces by way of the funerary script, which involves depositing the body in the soil with a view to securing its eventual rebirth by analogy with the sprouting of a planted seed.As indicated, the most important illustration of this conceptual pattern can be found in the fertility myths of ancient Greece. The Homeric Hymns, in particular, provide a number of narratives that trace out correspondences between vegetation cycles, human mortality, and inhumation, which inform ritual practice (Frazer 223–404; Carney 355–65; Sowa 121–44). The Homeric Hymn to Demeter, for instance, charts how Persephone is abducted by Hades, god of the dead, and taken to his underground kingdom. While searching for her missing daughter, Demeter, goddess of fertility, neglects the earth, causing widespread devastation. Matters are resolved when Zeus intervenes to restore Persephone to Demeter. However, having ingested part of Hades’s kingdom (a pomegranate seed), Persephone is obliged to spend half the year below ground with her captor and the other half above ground with her mother.The objectification of Persephone as both a seed and a corpse in this narrative is clearly signalled by her seasonal inhumation in Hades’ chthonic realm, which is at once both the soil and the grave. And, just as the planting of seeds in autumn ensures rebirth in spring, Persephone’s seasonal passage from the Kingdom of the Dead nominates the individual human life as just one season in an endless cycle of death and rebirth. A further signifying element is added by the ingestion of the pomegranate seed. This is evocative of her being inseminated by Hades; thus, the coordination of vegetation cycles with life and death is correlated with secondary transition—that from childhood to adulthood (Kerényi 119–183).In the examples given, we can see how the Homeric Hymn objectifies both the mortal and sexual destiny of the body in terms of thresholds derived from the vegetable world. Moreover, this mapping is not merely an intellectual exercise. Its emotional and social appeal is visible in the fact that the Eleusinian mysteries—which offered the ritual homologue to the Homeric Hymn to Demeter—persisted from the Mycenaean period to 396 CE, one of the longest recorded durations for any ritual (Ferguson 254–9; Cosmopoulos 1–24). In sum, then, classical myth provided a precedent for treating the body as a vegetable object—most often, a seed—that would, in turn, have driven the move towards inhumation as an important mortuary practice. The result is to create a ritual form that makes key aspects of human experience intelligible by connecting them with cyclical processes like the seasons of the year, the harvesting of crops, and the intergenerational oscillation between the roles of parent and child. Indeed, this pattern remains visible in the germination metaphors and burial practices of contemporary religions such as Christianity, which draw heavily on the symbolism associated with mystery cults like that at Eleusis (Nock 177–213).ConclusionWe acknowledge that our examples offer a limited reflection of the ethnographic and archaeological data, and that they need to be expanded to a much greater degree if they are to be more than merely suggestive. Nevertheless, suggestiveness has its value, too, and we submit that the speculations explored here may well offer a useful starting point for a larger survey. In particular, they showcase how a recurring existential anxiety concerning death—involving the fear of loss of personal identity and kinship relations—is addressed by different ways of objectifying the body. Given that the body is not reducible to the objects with which it is identified, these objectifications can never be entirely successful in negotiating the boundary between life and death. In the words of Jon Davies, “there is simply no let-up in the efforts by human beings to transcend this boundary, no matter how poignantly each failure seemed to reinforce it” (128). For this reason, we can expect that the record will be replete with conceptual and cognitive schemes that mediate the experience of death.At a more general level, it should also be clear that our understanding of human corporeality is rewarded by the study of mortuary practices. 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Discussing the interaction between representation and narrative structures, Anthony Mandal argues that the Gothic has always been “an intrinsically intertextual genre” (Mandal 350). From its inception, the intertextuality of the Gothic has taken many and varied incarnations, from simple references and allusions between texts—dates, locations, characters, and “creatures”—to intricate and evocative uses of style and plot organisation. And even though it would be unwise to reduce the Gothic “text” to a simple master narrative, one cannot deny that, in the midst of re-elaborations and re-interpretations, interconnections and interpolations also appear, a collective gathering of ideas and writing practices that construct what is known as “the Gothic intertext” (Mishra 235). As far as storytelling, characterisation, and symbolism are concerned, the Gothic finds strength in its ability to develop as well as negate expectation, re-moulding the culturally known and the aesthetically acceptable in order to present its audience with a multi-faceted and multi-layered narrative. Although the Gothic has traditionally found fertile ground in literary works—a connection that is now a legacy as much as an origin—other contemporary media, such as animation, have offered the Gothic a privileged chance for growth and adaptation. An evocative example of the mergence between the Gothic mode and the animated medium is Alex Hirsch’s Gravity Falls. This visual text provides an example of the reach of the Gothic within popular culture, where intersecting hideous creatures and interconnected narrative structures, although simple and “for children” on the surface, reveal the presence of a dense and intertextual Gothic network. Those interlacings are, of course, never disconnected from the wider cultural framework, and clearly occupy an important part in unravelling the insidious aspects of human nature, from the difficulties of finding “oneself” to the loneliness of the everyday. Gravity Falls is an animated television series created by Alex Hirsch. It premiered on the Disney Channel in the United States on 15 June 2012. Now scheduled for its second season of running, Gravity Falls follows the adventures of 12-year-old twin siblings Dipper and Mabel Pines while on their summer vacation in the small town of Gravity Falls, Oregon. The choice of “twins” as main characters reveals, even at such an embryonic level, a connection to Gothicised structures, as the mode itself, as Vijay Mishra suggests, finds an affinity with doublings and “specular identifications” that “confuse the norm” (63). The presence of twins makes the double nature of character, traditionally a metaphorical and implicit idea in the Gothic, a very obvious and explicit one. Dipper and Mabel are staying with their eccentric and money-grabbing Great Uncle Stan—often referred to as “Grunkle Stan”—who runs the local curiosity shop known as the Mystery Shack. It becomes very obvious from the very beginning that an air of mystery truly surrounds the Shack, which quickly lives up to its name, and the eponymous town. In an aptly Gothic manner, things are definitely not what they seem and the twins are caught in odd plots, eerily occurrences, and haunted/haunting experiences on a daily basis. The instigator for the twins’ interest in the odd manifestations is the finding of a mysterious journal, a manual the relays detailed descriptions of the creatures that inhabit the forest in the town of Gravity Falls. The author of the journal remains unknown, and is commonly known only as “3”, an unexplained number that marks the cover of the book itself. Although the connection between the Gothic and animation may be obscure, it is in fact possible to identify many common and intersecting elements—aesthetically, narratively, and conceptually—that highlight the two as being intrinsically connected. The successful relation that the Gothic holds with animation is based in the mode’s fundamental predilection for not only subversion, excess and the exploration of the realm of the “imagination”, but also humour and self-reflexivity. These aspects are shared with animation which, as a medium, is ideally placed for exploring and presenting the imaginative and the bizarre, while pushing the boundaries of the known and the proper. Julia Round suggests that the Gothic “has long been identified as containing a dual sense of play and fear” (7). The playfulness and destabilisation that are proper to the mode find a fertile territory in animation in view of not only its many genres, but also its style and usually sensational subject matter. This discourse becomes particularly relevant if one takes into consideration matters of audienceship, or, at least, receivership. Although not historically intended for younger viewers, the animation has evolved into a profoundly children-orientated medium. From cinema to television, animated features and series are the domain of children of various ages. Big production houses such as Disney and Warner Bros have capitalised on the potential of the medium, and established its place in broadcasting slots for young viewers. Not unlike comics—which is, in a way, its ancestral medium—animation is such a malleable and contextual form that it requires a far-reaching and inclusive approach, one that is often interdisciplinary in scope; within this, where the multi-faceted nature of the Gothic opens up the way for seeing animated narratives as the highly socio-historical mediums they are. And not unlike comics, animation shares a common ground with the Gothic in requiring a vast scope of analysis, one that is intrinsically based on the conceptual connections between “texts”. Round has also aptly argued that, like comics, animated series lend themselves to malleable and mouldable re-elaboration: “from the cultural to the aesthetic, the structural to the thematic”, graphic media always reflect the impact of “intertextual and historical references” (8). Animation’s ability to convey, connect, and revolutionise ideas is, therefore, well-matched to the aesthetic and conceptual idiosyncrasies of Gothic tropes. Dipper and Mabel’s vacation in the town of Gravity Falls is characterised by the appearance of numerous super- and preter-natural creatures. The list of “monsters” encountered by the twins is long and growing, from gnomes, goblins, mermaids and zombies, to ghosts, clones, and a wide and colourful variety of demons. And although, at first glance, this list would appear to be a simple and simplistic grouping of bizarre and creatively assembled creatures, it is made quickly apparent that these “monsters” are all inspired, often very directly, by “existing”—or, at least, well-known—Gothic creatures, and their respective contexts of development. Indeed, the links to the Gothic in contemporary popular culture are unavoidable. The creatures in Gravity Falls are presented with subtle references to Gothic literature and cinema, from John Carpenter’s Halloween (1978) and Joe Dante’s Gremlins (1984), to Stephen King’s The Shining (1977) and Needful Things (1991). Borrowing from these texts, the creatures in the series all have strange names that rely on play-on-words and re-inventions, and the rubric twists that they undertake are part of a system of both homage and conceptual interdependency. One can find, for instance, “Manotaurs”—creatures that are half-bull and half-man, and that value “manliness” in their society above all else—and the “Gremlobin” – a gigantic monster somewhere in between, we are told, a “gremlin” and a “goblin”, whose eyes can show “your worst nightmares”. But the range extends to other bizarre “creatures” that are clearly very spooky, such as the “Summewrween Trickster”—a large, shadowy, purple/orange monster with a “jack-o’-melon” mask – the living “mailbox”—a sentient and omniscient object—and the truly haunting Bill Cipher—a mind demon that can be summoned through an incantation and enter a person’s subconscious. The connection to the Gothic in popular culture is instrumental for the construction of the Gothic intertext in Gravity Falls. In episode One, “Tourist Trapped” (1.01), Mabel is kidnapped by a tribe of gnomes, who are set on making her their queen. The gnomes are incongruous creatures: on the one hand, they are vengeful and spiteful, recalling the horror monsters found in movies such as the questionable Blood Gnome (2004). On the other, however, they wear red pointy hats and white beards, and their friendly smiles recall the harmless appearance of actual garden gnomes. When the gnomes grow upset, they throw up rainbows; this strange fact destroys their potential as a Gothic horror icon, and makes them accessible and amusing. This subversion of iconography takes place with a number of other “creatures” in Gravity Falls, with the Summerween Trickster—subverting the “terror” of Hallowe’en—being another fitting example. When the gnomes are attempting to woe Mabel, they do not appear to her in their real form: they camouflage themselves into a teenage boy— one who is moody, brooding, and mysterious—and become Mabel’s boyfriend; the “boy’s” interest in her, however, is so intense, that Dipper suspects him to be a member of “The Undead”, a category of monster that is closely described in 3’s journal: due to their “pale skin” and “bad attitudes”, they are often mistaken for “teenagers”. Clues to Dipper’s doubts include the teenage boy’s hand “falling off” while he is hugging Mabel, a clear sign—it would seem—that the boy is obviously a decaying, zombie corpse. The intertextual connection to several horror visual narratives where limbs “fall off” the undead and the monstrous is clear here, with apt film examples being Dawn of the Dead (1978), The Fly (1986), horror comedy Army of Darkness (1992), and, more recently, television’s The Walking Dead (2010-). The references to well-known horror films are scattered throughout the series, and comprise the majority of the lampooned cultural context in which the creatures appear. In spite of Dipper’s suspicions, the situation is revealed to have a rather different outcome. When the boyfriend tells Mabel he has a big secret to reveal, her mind wanders into another direction, choosing a different type of undead, as she expectantly thinks: “Please be a vampire…please be a vampire”. It is not difficult to spot the conceptual connection here to narratives such as Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight saga (2005-2008), both in its literary and cinematic variations, where brooding and mysterious teenage boys find ideal incarnations as the undead creature. The romanticised nature of teenage fictional narratives such as the Twilight saga is also mirrored in Mabel’s distinctive love-centred interest in the potential vampire, revealing an intertextual and highly contextual association to seeing the creature as part of an amorous relationship, as opposed to a blood-thirsty murderer. Mabel’s dreams of vampric love are unfortunately shattered when the boyfriend is revealed to be several gnomes carefully assembled to operate a human-like body, rather than one immortal lover. Irrespective of its desire to parody the Gothic, however, Gravity Falls still maintains unavoidable links to the notion of terror. Clear evidence of this is to be found in the fact that all “creatures” in the series present a level of anthropomorphism about them, and this is interpreted by the characters—and the viewers—as one of their scariest aspects. Leigh Blackmore suggests that a special brand of terror can be found in “anthropomorphic beings” that are in fact not human (Blackmore 95). Most of the creatures in the series are humanoid in shape, and can speak like humans. From gnomes to mermaids, mailboxes and demons, the creatures act as humans, but they are in fact something “other”, something that only recalls the human itself. This idea of being “almost human”, but “not quite”, is disturbing in itself, and connects the presentation of the creatures to the Gothic via the notion of the uncanny: “a crisis of the natural, touching upon everything that one might have thought was ‘part of nature’ […] human nature, the nature of reality and the world” (Royle 1). The uncanny nature of the creatures in Gravity Falls is maintained through their profound inhumanity, and their simultaneous links to human ways of acting, speaking, and even thinking. Indeed, most of the creatures are presented as petty, bitter, and childish, and often seen as greedy and sulking. In a way, the creatures lampoon some of the most intrinsic qualities of the human species, what separates us from animals. The supernatural creatures operate here as a critique of the humans themselves, exposing, as the Gothic often does, the most disturbing parts of humanity. The creatures are presented initially as scary, recalling—albeit very briefly—notions of terror and horror, but that façade is quickly destroyed as their “real nature” is exposed. They are de-terrorised by not only making them common, but also ridiculing their habits and de-constructing their thinly-veiled Gothic personas. The creatures in Gravity Falls are a subversion of the subversion, a re-thinking of the Gothic through parody that allows their conceptual, and culturally relevant, function to be rapidly exposed. The impact of the Gothic intertext in Gravity Falls is not only visible in its representational forms—its monsters and “creatures”—but also extends to its structural organisation. Jerrold Hogle has argued that, although they maintain a heterogeneous construction of texts and contexts, there are certain qualities applicable to “Gothic texts”: an antiquated space (often decaying); a concealed secret from the historical past; a physical or psychological haunting; and an oscillation between “reality” and the “supernatural” (3). Although Hogle’s pinpointing of what he calls the “Gothic matrix” (3) is mainly focused on the literary world, a broader and more wide-reaching understanding of the Gothic text allows these qualities to be clearly identifiable in other narrative mediums, such as an animated series. Indeed, Gravity Falls presents the main elements of the “Gothic matrix”: the Mystery Shack is an old and isolated place, physically crumbling and in constant state of disrepair; it is made clear that the Shack harbours many secrets—filled as it is with hidden passageways and underground vaults—connected to the shady past of Grunkle Stan and its unresolved connections to mysticism and magic; there are plenty of hauntings to be found in the series: from physical ones—in the form of demons and ghosts—to psychological ones, condensed in Dipper and Mabel’s difficulties with their approaching puberties and “growing up”; finally, the line between reality and supernatural is constantly challenged by the appearance of multiple creatures that are clearly not of this world, and even though several characters doubt their existence within the story, their very presence challenges the stability of the boundaries between real and unreal. On the surface, the series is presented as a standard linear narrative, where the linear journey of each 20-minute episode culminates with the resolution of the main “haunting”, and the usual destruction or appeasing of the “creature”. And while the series’ use of cliff-hangers is, in true television style, a common presence, they also expose and recall the unresolved nature of the narrative. Indeed, the story’s structure in Gravity Falls is reliant on narrative undertellings and off-shoots that often lie underneath the logical “line” of the plot. Sub-plots reign supreme, and multiple motives for the characters’ actions are introduced but not expanded upon, leaving the series impregnated with an aura of uncertainty and chaos. The focus of the storytelling is also denied; one moment, it appears to be Dipper’s desire to discover the “secrets” of the forest; the other, it is Grunkle Stan’s long-time battle with his arch-nemesis Gideon over the ownership of the Shack. This plot confusion in Gravity Falls continues to expose its narrative debt to the Gothic intertext, since “structural multiplicity”, as Round suggests, is “a defining feature of the Gothic” (19). The series’ narrative structure is based on numerous multiplicities, an open denial of linear journeys that is dependant, paradoxically, on the illusion of resolution. The most evocative example of Gravity Falls’ denial of clear-cut structures is arguably to be found in the narrative underlayers added by 3’s monster manual. It is obvious from the beginning that 3’s stay in the town of Gravity Falls was riddled with strange experiences, and that his sojourn intersected, at one point or the other, with the lives and secrets of Grunkle Stan and his enemies. It is also made clear that 3’s journal is not a solitary presence in the narrative, but is in fact only one in a triad of mystical books—these books, it is suggested, have great power once put together, but the resolution to this mystery is yet to be revealed. As Grunkle Stan and Gideon fight (secretly) over the possession of the three books, it is openly suggested that several uncovered stories haunt the main narrative in the series and, unknown Dipper and Mabel, are responsible for many of the strange occurrences during their stay at the Shack. Jean-Jacques Lecercle has long argued that one of the defining characteristics of the Gothic, and its intertextual structure, is the presence of “embedded narratives” (72). In Gravity Falls, the use of 3’s manual as not only an initiator of the plot, but also as a continuous performative link to the “haunted” past, uncovers the series’ re-elaboration of the traditional structure of Gothic narratives. As a paratextual presence in the story—one that is, however, often responsible for the development of the main narrative—3’s manual draws attention to the importance of constructing layered stories in order to create the structures of terror, and subsequent horror, that are essential to the Gothic itself. Although it often provides Dipper with information for solving the mysteries of the Shack, and subduing the supernatural creatures that overtake it, 3’s manual is, in reality, a very disruptive presence in the story. It creates confusion as it begins storytelling without concluding it, and opens the way to narrative pathways that are never fully explored. This is of course in keeping with the traditional narrative structures of the Gothic mode, where ancient books and stories— belonging to “antiquity”—are used as a catalyst for the present narrative to take place, but are also strangely displaced from it. This notion recalls Victor Sage’s suggestion that, in Gothic narratives, ancient books and stories paradoxically “disrupt” the main narrative, starting a separate dialogue with a storytelling structure that is inevitably unexplored and left unanswered (86). Canonical examples such as Ann Radcliffe’s The Mysteries of Udolpho (1794) and Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights (1847) inevitably come to mind here, but also more recent cinematic examples such as the Evil Dead franchise (1978-), where ancient books and old storytellers uncover hoary secrets that instigate, as well as obscure, the main narrative. In Gravity Falls, the interaction with 3’s manual is inherently performative, and continuously intertextual, but it is also deeply confusing, adding to the feeling of strangeness and mystery that is the conceptual basis for the series itself. The intertextual connections that drive the narrative in Gravity Falls construct lampooned versions of both the traditional concepts of Gothic horror and Gothic terror. Hogle has suggested that Gothic terror is apparent in the construction of suspense, achieved through an exploration of psychological hauntings, human nature and its un/limitations, and that which is kept out sight, the expected “hidden secrets” (3). Gothic horror, on the other hand, is characterised by the consequences of these occurrences; the physical manifestation of the “haunting”, so to speak, is achieved through the presentation of something repulsive and horrific, the monstrous in its various incarnations (Hogle 3). In Gravity Falls, the connection to the traditional Gothic intertext is made clear through both elicitations of “terror”, and subsequent manifestations of “horror”. Indeed, the “hidden secrets” of the Shack, and to some extent, the fears and insecurities of the characters, are mediated through the appearance of horrific machinery and creatures. The Shack always conceals something hidden, a magical element of sort that is kept secret by intricate passageways. The shadowy nature of the building – evoking the psychological hauntings of Gothic terror – inevitably causes the appearance of something physically disturbing, finding its apogee in a Gothic horror experience. A clear example of this can be found in the episode “Double Dipper” (1.07). Desperate to impress his co-worker and secret love-interest Wendy, and “haunted” by his lack of self-worth, Dipper roams the rooms of the Shack and discovers a very old and enchanted photocopier machine; the machine copies “people”, making clones of the original. The “clones” themselves are a manifestation of horror, a presence that breaks the boundaries of propriety, and worries its viewers in view of its very existence. The cloning copy machine is strongly intertextual as it not only provides conceptual links to numerous cinematic and literary examples where a “haunted machine” threats to destroy humanity— in examples such as Stephen King’s Christine (1983) —but also evokes the threat of “doubles”, another powerfully Gothic conduit (Royle). As it is often the case in Gravity Falls, Dipper loses control of the situation, and the dozens of clones he unwittingly created take over his life and threaten to annihilate him. Dipper must destroy the “horror” —the clones—and confront the “terror”—his haunting insecurities and personal secrets—in order to restore the original balance. This intertextual dynamic validates Hogle’s contention that, in Gothic narratives, both the physical and the psychological “hauntings” rise from view “within the antiquated space” and “manifest unresolved conflicts that can no longer be successfully buried from view” (Hogle 2). The “hidden secrets” of Gravity Falls, and their manifestations through both Gothic horror and terror, are clearly connected to explorations of human nature and deeply existentialist crises that are put forward through humour and parody. These range from Grunkle Stan’ inability to commit to a relationship—and his feeling that life is slipping away in his old age—to the twins’ constant insecurities about pre-teen amorous encounters. Not to mention the knowledge that, in reality, Dipper and Mabel were “abandoned” by their mother in the care of Stan, as she had other plans for the summer. As Round has argued, the Gothic’s most significant development seems to have been the “transvaluation of moral issues”, as notions of “monsters have become less clear cut” (18). The series’ successful engagement with the wider “monstrous” intertext, and its connection to moral issues and “hidden” preoccupations, uncovers the ability of the Gothic, as Catherine Spooner puts it, to act as “commodity”, no longer a marginalised cultural presence, but a fully purchasable item in consumer-capitalist systems (Spooner 2007). The evocations of both horror and terror in Gravity Falls are, naturally, unavoidably diluted, a homage as much as a direct encounter. The use of the monstrous and the haunted in the series is domesticated, made accessible so that it can be presented to a younger and more commercial audience. The profound interlacings with the Gothic intertext remain, however, unchanged, as the series reconciles its subversive, uncanny elements with the inevitably conventional, Disney-fied context in which it is placed. References Blackmore, Leigh. “Marvels and Horrors: Terry Dowling’s Clowns at Midnight”. 21st Century Gothic: Great Gothic Novels Since 2000, ed. Danel Olson. Lanham: Rowman & Littlefield, 2011. 87-97. Gravity Falls. Disney Television. Disney Channel, Los Angeles. 2012-2014. Hogle, Jerrold. “Introduction: The Gothic in Western Culture”. The Cambridge Companion of Gothic Fiction, ed. Jerrold Hogle. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002. 1-20. Lecercle, Jean-Jacques. “The Kitten’s Nose: Dracula and Witchcraft”. The Gothic, ed. Fred Botting. D.S Brewer: Cambridge, 2001. 71-86. Mandal, Anthony. “Intertext”. The Encyclopaedia of the Gothic, ed. David Punter, Bill Hughes and Andrew Smith. Basingstoke: Wiley, 2013. 350-355. Mishra, Vijay. The Gothic Sublime. 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Film directors in American cinema have used the artist (painter, singer, thespian, writer, etc.) as a vehicle for auteurist identification in feature bio-pics for decades. The portrayal of the protagonists in these films usually falls victim to the "Van Gogh" syndrome, that is, the insistance on the creative inner turmoil, the solitary, misunderstood genius, and brave rebellion of its central character. This approach, however, breaks down completely when confronted with the void that is the historical figure known as "Andy Warhol." The popular image of Warhol, his studied superficiality, unapologetic commercialism, and outright catatonic demeanour, is completely disruptive to the traditional humanist artist biography. It is unsurprising, then, that recent film protagonists within the more traditional bio-pic framework found Warhol a figure that needed to be contained, neutralised, discredited, and even shot. Mainstream cinematic narrative has added little to the conventions of the artist biography since the Renaissance. Renaissance painter and biographer Giorgio Vasari appropriated the Petrarchian edifying "Great Lives" model to ennoble and sanitise the often problematic and distasteful personalities who populated the Italian art world. This approach prevailed over the next several hundred years, and was expanded upon by the intellectual figures of the Romantic period (who were very aware of Vasari's work). The Romantics contributed to the profile of a proper artist the following traits: misunderstood intellectual fury, dark psychological depths, and flouting of social convention. The bio-pic genre, especially as it relates to biographies of artists, also lauds humanistic "greatness" as its standard of significance. The bio-pic absolutely relies on a strong central figure, who can be shown in about two hours to have some substantial educational value, worthy of the expense of the film-makers and the attention of the viewer. In the mid-1990s, not long after his unexpected death in 1987, a character called "Andy Warhol" appeared in supporting roles in a number of feature films. The Doors (1991), Basquiat (1996), and I Shot Andy Warhol (1996) all feature an Andy Warhol character grounded squarely in various popular myths. All of the three 90s feature films which include Warhol in a substantial speaking role explicitly contrast him against another artist-figure. This other artist is presented as somehow preferable to Warhol, whether in conviction, authenticity, or validity of vision. The artist in question, Basquiat/Morrison/Solanas, predictably serves as the film-makers' lens through which the past is refracted (though more problematically in the case of Solanas). Warhol is outward sign of Basquiat's slide, the danger of fame-mongering for Morrison, and Valerie Solanas's misogynist nemesis. In each case, the more valorised figure is at first twinned with Warhol when drawn into his orbit. Eventually, the film's narrative contrasts the main subject against what the diegetic Warhol represents. In each case, Warhol becomes a metonymic representation of a larger organising factor: the economic/personality-driven entertainment industry, phallocentric hegemony, art's dead end, etc. The demonisation of Warhol in recent bio-pics is a good starting point for examining how his image is being interpreted by the mainstream media. It is clear that in this particular forum, Warhol's impact is understood only negatively. The purpose of this study will be to demonstrate how uncomfortable the creative arts world in general, and narrative film-making in particular, is with the "empty" legacy of Warhol and his Factory, and how the reactions against it illustrate a fear of Warhol's anti-humanist, subject-less project. It is fascinating that in the feature films, Warhol appears solely as a character in other people's stories rather than as the focus of biographical treatment. Warhol's very conscious emptying-out project has made nearly impossible any effort to deal with him and his legacy in any traditional narrative manner. Warhol's public persona -- simple, boring, derivative, and unheroic -- is directly at odds with the conventional "artist-hero" subjects necessary to the bio pic genre. This type is seen most typically in the old potboilers The Agony and the Extasy, about Michelangelo, and Lust for Life, about Van Gogh, as well as the more recent Artemisia about Artemisia Gentileschi. The very fact of Andy's posthumous film career fits neatly into his performative œuvre as a whole, and is easily interpreted as an extension of his life-long project. Warhol's entire self-imaging stratagem steadfastly affirmed that there is no center to illuminate -- no "real" Andy Warhol behind the persona. Warhol constantly disavowed any "meaning" beyond the surface of his art works, and ascribed it no value beyond market price. He preferred methods and forms (advertising, silk-screening, and film-making) that were easy for his Factory workers to execute and endlessly duplicate after his vague orders. Further, he ascribed no importance to his own bodily shell as "artist Andy Warhol". In an act of supreme self-branding, Warhol sent actors to impersonate him at lectures (most famously at University of Utah, who demanded he return the lecture fee), since he was only a packaged, reproducible product himself. In Warhol's art, there is no hand-made integrity, no originality, no agonised genius in a garret. He displays none of the traits that traditionally have allowed artists to be called geniuses. Warhol's studio's automation, the laying bare of the cheapest and slickest aspects of the culture industry, has long been the most feared facet of Warhol's artistic legacy. It is beside the point to argue that Warhol's meaninglessness is thematised to the degree that it has meaning. Warhol's erasure of all humanistic "aura" clearly remains threatening to a great number of artists, who rely heavily on such artistic stereotypes. Basquiat In 1996's Basquiat, painter/director Julian Schnabel used the dead painter as a proxy for telling his "I was there" version of the 80s New York art scene. In Schnabel's rather heavy-handed morality tale, young African-American painter Jean-Michel Basquiat's meteoric burn-out career is treated as a metaphor for the 80s art world as a whole. Schnabel clearly knows his Vasari. His film's scenario is a barely modified adaptation of humanist/romantic artist mythology. Traces of Vasari's tale of Cimabue's discovery of Giotto, as well as Van Gogh's various misunderstood artist scenarios are laboriously played out. In fact, the first words in the film invoke the Van Gogh cliché, foregrounding Schnabel's myth-making impulse. They are art critic Rene Ricard's, speaking over Basquiat waking up in a cardboard box in Central Park: "everyone wants to get on the Van Gogh boat. ... No one wants to be part of a generation that ignores another Van Gogh, ... When you first see a new picture, you have to be very careful. You might be staring at Van Gogh's ear." This quote sets the tone for Basquiat's art world experience narrative, trotting out every single Van Gogh-inspired legend (with heroin abuse standing in for the cut-off ear) to apply to Basquiat. In fact, the film veritably thematises Romantic cliché. The film's main project is the mythologisation of Jean-Michel and by extension Schnabel. However, by foregrounding the Van Gogh/Basquiat connection in such self-conscious terms, it seems the viewer is supposed to find it "ironic". (The irony is really that this po-mo window dressing is otherwise deeply at odds with the rest of the film's message.) The film suggests that Basquiat is both worthy of the allusion to the great humanistic tradition, and that his special case ("the first great black painter") changes all the rules and makes all clichés inapplicable. Schnabel's art, which is usually described as "Neo-Abstract Expressionist", and particularly his market value, relies heavily on the aura created by previous artists in the macho heroic mold. His paintings take up Pollock's "all over" effect but with de Kooning's jauntier color. He also fastens found objects, most famously broken plates, in a pastiche of Rauschenberg and Jasper Johns. Like Warhol, Schnabel often borrows recognisable motifs. However, instead of advertising and popular culture, Schnabel's come from a more elevated tradition; Old Master paintings appropriated from "legitimate" art history. Needless to say, Julian Schnabel himself has much invested in reaffirming the artist-genius myth that is threatening to be deconstructed by a good number of art critics and historians. Schnabel's agenda is specifically art historical, though no less political. Schnabel, through Basquiat, restores the artist to his proper place as individual creator challenging the outmoded conventions of established art. Warhol, portrayed as the quintessential post-modern artist, represents all that has gone wrong in the art world: superficiality, mass production, commodification, popular culture influence, and the erasure of art history and deep significance. In spite of the film's self-consciousness about the phoniness of the gallery scene, Basquiat's lionisation by it validates a retrograde concept of "pure" artist's vision. Schnabel is attacking what he sees as the deadening effect of post-modernism that threatens Schnabel's own place in art history. Basquiat's escalating drug problem and alliance late in the film with Warhol signals that he has followed the wrong direction, that he is hitting a dead end. The character Milo (Gary Oldman), the Schnabel manqué, sets up the contrast to illustrate Basquiat's slide. Milo is aligned with all that is exemplary in establishment virtues of hearth and home (doting fatherhood, settled domesticity, good living). The wholesome hand-made integrity of Milo/Schnabel's art, in line with traditional definitions of artistic greatness, is deeply at odds with the affected commercialism of Warhol's work. Schnabel's artistic influences show up clearly in his very marked progressive view of art history and clearly named privileged pantheon. In the film, Schnabel is at pains to insert Basquiat and himself into this tradition. The very first scene of the film sees Jean-Michel as a child with his mother at the MOMA, where she is in tears in front of Picasso's Guernica. In the narrative, this is quickly followed by Ricard's Van Gogh quote above. As an adult, Jean-Michel enacts Rauschenberg's edict, to "narrow the gap between art and life". This is illustrated by Jean-Michel not restricting his artistic output to work on canvas in a studio. He graffitis walls, signs table tops à la Rauschenberg, and makes designs on a diner countertop in maple syrup. Later, Jean-Michel is shown painting in his studio walking around the canvas on the floor, in an all-over technique, mirroring the familiar Hans Namuth film of Jackson Pollock. Aligning Jean-Michel with the pre-Warhol, and especially Abstract Expressionist artists, positions Basquiat and Schnabel together against the "dead end" of Warhol's version of Pop. Basquiat and the director have inherited the "right" kind of art, and will be the progenitors of the next generation. Warhol as a "dead end" leads to a discussion of the relationship between artists' procreative sexuality and their art. In the film, Warhol is assumed to be asexual (rather than homosexual), and this lack of virility is clearly linked to the sterility, transitoriness, and barrenness of his art. Schnabel/Milo and Basquiat, in their marked heterosexuality, are the "fathers" of the next generation. In Basquiat's collaboration with Warhol, even Andy understands his own impotence. Warhol says, "I can't teach you anything, you're a natural, are you kidding me?", and most importantly, "you paint out everything I do, Jean-Michel". By privileging Jean-Michel's art (and his own) over Warhol's, Schnabel is clearly trying to paint out the mutation of the Warholisation of art, and paint in his own art historical eugenics. The Doors In a less substantial role but in a similar vein, Warhol also appears briefly in Oliver Stone's 1991 The Doors, as part of a brief "rising fame" montage of New York incidents. Like Schnabel, Stone has a lot to lose from investment in Warhol's spiritual and aesthetic emptiness. Though brief, Warhol's appearance in the film, like in Basquiat, serves as a cautionary tale for its hero. The contrast made between the vacuous Factory crowd and the "authentic" Doors presages the dominant trope for the Warhol character that Schnabel would expand upon later. The Factory sequence dramatises the glamour and seductiveness of the hollow side of fame that may lead Morrison off his spiritual-quest path. The Native American shaman who Jim sees at pivotal points in his life appears at the Factory, warning him not to take the wrong path represented by Warhol. The Doors are at a pivotal moment, the onset of fame, and must act carefully or risk ending up as meaningless as Warhol. Stone's chronicling of the 60s relies heavily on what could be called the humanist ideal of the power of the individual to effect change, raise consciousness, and open minds. Via Stone's simple reductiveness, Warhol represents here the wrong kind of counter-culture, the anti-hippie. By emulating Warhol, the Doors follow the wrong shaman. To Stone, Warhol's superficiality represents all that is dangerous about celebrity and entertainment: the empty, mind-destroying cocaine high of the masses. I Shot Andy Warhol The film I Shot Andy Warhol (1996) problematises the idea put forth in the other films of Warhol as artistic anti-Christ, simply because the film's subject is much more difficult to heroise, and like Warhol does not fit snugly into bio-pic conventions. Like Basquiat, the film also takes the point of view of a protagonist at the edge of Warhol's sphere of influence, here radical feminist and S.C.U.M. (the Society for Cutting Up Men) Manifesto scribe Valerie Solanas, in order to criticise what Warhol represents. Unlike the previous films, here Warhol's character is central to the narrative. Although Warhol clearly represents something very negative to the Solanas character, the film never fully endorses its subject's point of view. That Warhol deserved and needed to be shot for any reason beyond Solanas's personal demons is never established. Perhaps this ambivalence is a flaw of the film, but it is also telling about the problematic legacies of feminism and Pop, two movements that have led to challenges of the hero-artist ideal. In this film, the relationship between Warhol and the main protagonist is extremely complex. Andy and his crowd are presented as clearly odious. Though Valerie comes off as more interesting and sympathetic, she is also still clearly an unhinged oddball spewing specious ideology. Within the film, Valerie's attraction to the Factory scene seems to stem from something her friend, transvestite Candy Darling, says: "if anyone can make you a star, Andy Warhol can". Valerie desperately wants attention for her radicalism (and likely for other psychological reasons, which make radicalism attractive to her, as well), and sees Andy's power for "star-making", especially among the more marginal of society, as something from which she can profit. Valerie's mistake seems to be in confusing the artistic avant-garde with the politically radical. Valerie finds kinship in Warhol's androgyny and lack of enthusiasm for sex, but does not realise immediately that Andy is interested in her play Up Your Ass primarily for its titillation and shock value, and is entirely uninterested in it from a content standpoint. The content/emptiness conflict in Valerie and Andy's "artistic visions" becomes one of the major thematics in the film. Though like Solanas, he finds community with margin-dwellers, Andy is portrayed as far too implicated in and dependent on the so-called culture industry in order to be "Andy Warhol -- Superstar". Andy's interest in the low-life that Valerie represents is, of course, wholly superficial, which enrages her. She sees no worthy theoretical position in the banal contentlessness of Andy's circle. Valerie's manifesto and dramatic works have almost an excess of content. They work to kick people in the balls to get them to open their eyes and see the appalling conditions around them. The Warhol here, like in The Doors, wants people to see empty banality, but has no interest in effecting change. Valerie's play, as read simultaneously in the lesbian coffee shop and at Andy's studio, dramatises this divergence. When Warhol and crowd read the script with dull inflection, inert on the couch, one can imagine the very words being put to use in a Warhol film. When Valerie and friends perform those same words, the passionate engagement and deep meaningfulness -- at least to Valerie -- capture her urgent commitment to her ideas. As Valerie gets more desperate to disseminate her ideas, and thus begins to further alienate the Factory crowd, she starts to see Andy as in fact the bodily symbol of the "man" she wants cut up. Not only does he represent the patriarch of the art world who has dismissed her and has invalidated her vision, but also more broadly the hierarchy and deep structure of Andy's world parallels the consumeristic and image-driven society at large. If Valerie wants to live with integrity within her own code, the "man" must be deposed. On top of the personal gratification she would receive in this act, Solanas would also finally find a world-wide audience for her views. Now we can understand why, when asked by the press why she shot Andy, Valerie tells them "he had too much control over my life." Unhappily, instead of women rising up against their male oppressors to take up their rightful place of superiority, Solanas gets labeled a "lunatic" by the same media and larger establishment which (in this film) proclaim Warhol a genius. Solanas dissolves into a bit-player in the Andy Warhol story. One of the major interests of this film is that it excerpts a player from the limits of that "master narrative" story and allows them their own subjecthood. I Shot Andy Warhol, with its assertive quotational title, seems to want to reinscribe subjecthood to one of the most truly radical of Andy's superstars, reclaiming the value of Valerie's polemics from the emptiness of her anecdotal role in Warhol's biography. Though Valerie clearly sees Andy as her nemesis, the film constructs him as a boring, ineffectual, self-absorbed effete. The great weakness of the film is that their conflict begins to look like a midget wrestling contest. Since both are competing for higher freakdom, the broader implications of either of their projects are only rarely glimpsed. It should be clear by now that for so many, fictional Warhol is not just a problematic figure, but nearly a monstrous one. The film-makers clearly show what elements of Warhol's representative strategy they find so threatening. Schnabel and Stone have the most to lose in the replacement of their value systems (genius investment and 60s macho spirituality) by what they perceive as postmodern de-centredness, and therefore need to attack that threat the most forcefully. Less conservatively, for Harron, Warhol's Pop objectification of everyone, including women, seems to threaten women's hard-won subjectivity through feminism. Warhol, Morrison, Basquiat and Solanas were all artists who played heavily on their roles as outsiders to mainstream society. These films build the film-makers' soapbox on the "right" way to be alienated, bourgeois-hating, and rebellious, and the films assume a sympathetic viewing audience. Even though the interest in Warhol and his flashy milieu probably got at least two of these films made in the first place, it seems clear that even the more independently-minded film establishment would rather align themselves with the romanticised artist bio-pic subject than the black hole they fear Warhol personifies. Perhaps the character Andy Warhol is put to most appropriate use when he is only glimpsed, such as in the films Death Becomes Her, where he appears as one of the party guests for people who have taken the magic potion to live forever, and as part of the 70s glam wallpaper in 54. This kind of "product placement" use of Warhol most succinctly encapsulates the vacant banality he espoused. In these films, Warhol is unburdened by other artists' attempts to fill him up with meaning. Warhol is taken at his word. His easily recognisable and reproducible bodily shell is hollow and superficial, just as he said it was. Warhol, Morrison, Basquiat and Solanas were all artists who played heavily on their roles as outsiders to mainstream society. These films build the film-makers' soapbox on the "right" way to be alienated, bourgeois-hating, and rebellious, and the films assume a sympathetic viewing audience. Even though the interest in Warhol and his flashy milieu probably got at least two of these films made in the first place, it seems clear that even the more independently-minded film establishment would rather align themselves with the romanticised artist bio-pic subject than the black hole they fear Warhol personifies. Citation reference for this article MLA style: Julie Turnock. "Painting Out Pop: "Andy Warhol" as a Character in 90s Films." M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2.4 (1999). [your date of access] <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9906/warhol.php>. Chicago style: Julie Turnock, "Painting Out Pop: "Andy Warhol" as a Character in 90s Films," M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2, no. 4 (1999), <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9906/warhol.php> ([your date of access]). APA style: Julie Turnock. (1999) Painting out pop: "Andy Warhol" as a character in 90s films. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture 2(4). <http://www.uq.edu.au/mc/9906/warhol.php> ([your date of access]).