Academic literature on the topic 'Read-Aloud Original'

Emergent readers draw on a variety of information sources, most notably book illustrations and memory for text that has been read aloud by adults. The present study examines material imported into emergent readings—material that is not contained in the original written text of a book—as evidence of the types of information emergent readers use. Emergent readings of three different books were collected from 33 preschool children after they had heard the stories read repeatedly in class. Imported information in emergent readings was identified, classified, and counted. Results showed four sources of nontext importations in the emergent readings: material from illustrations, from prior read-aloud sessions, from personal experience and background knowledge, and from other texts. Furthermore, readings that were closest to the original text language and content contained the most, rather than the fewest, importations, suggesting that importation of nontextual information is not an indicator of immature emergent reading. Emergent readers' integration of visual and nonvisual sources of information highlights the continuity from emergent to alphabetic reading. A call is made for further research on importations in emergent and alphabetic reading.

Reading span was assessed in three conditions aiming at varying the processing demands of a reading task. In a Sentence Reading Condition, the participants read aloud lists of sentences and memorize the final word of each sentence as in the original task of Daneman and Carpenter. In two other conditions, each sentence was replaced either by a series of unrelated words (Word Reading Condition) or by a series of meaningless syllables (Syllable Reading Condition); in these two conditions, however, each series ended with the same test words as in the Sentence Reading Condition. There was no significant effect of the condition on the scores for reading span. It is concluded that the typically low scores on reading span are not so much due to the processing demands of the task as to the disruptive effects of the articulatory suppression which characterizes the original task.

We present the results of an experimental study which targets prosodic correlates of subclausal quotation marks. We found that written sentences containing passages enclosed by quotation marks were read aloud in a manner that significantly differs in prosody from spoken realizations of corresponding disquoted counterparts. However, we also observed that such prosodic marking of subclausal quotation wasn't strong enough to survive subsequent back-translation into written language: there was no correlation between the presence/absence of quotation marks in the original written examples, and the presence/absence of quotation marks in corresponding back-translations from oral renditions. We investigated three different kinds of uses of quotation marks and found no systematic difference between them with respect to prosodic marking.

Abstract This article argues that the micro-structure of Paul’s letters is intrinsically linked to an aural logic. Taking 2 Corinthians 10:8-11 as an example and using the notions of côlon and period as described in the rhetoric and stylistic treatises of the Graeco-Roman world, I will show both the methods and the extent to which it is possible to reconstitute its original “punctuation” – i.e., the different breaks that punctuated this passage when it was read aloud. This will allow me to shed new light on the structure of the passage and, especially, on the debated question of the place of verse 9, namely the extent to which it is linked with either verse 8 or verses 10-11, or is rather independent. More generally, this article is an invitation to develop colometric analysis as an additional tool in debates concerning micro-structure and punctuation of NT texts.

Introduction. The article is devoted to discussing complex synesthets’ capability of sound-colour-symbol analysis of poetic texts in order to investigate their perception depending on subconsciousness which activity manifests itself in the form of symbolic images of the unconscious (Jung, 1968).
 Research methods. Synesthets were offered the text and the recording of R. L. Stivenson’s poem “The Land of Counterpane” in original and variants of its translation by V. Brjusov and О. Mandelstam (the last one with recording). The tasks were as follws: to read aloud or to listen to the poems trying not to take into account meaning of words, to describe the colour of the texts depending on sound/letter frequency and to report us their image-symbol associations based on sound-colour of the texts. These data were analyzed from the point of view of Jung’s depth analytical psychology and psychology of colour.
 Results and their discussion. Sound-colour analysis executed by respondents show that their perception of sound frequency differs depending on individual peculiarities of synesthesia. Synesthets’ spontaneous incidental image-symbol associated with sound and colour of the same poems have a tendency to be different in most cases and rarely coincide. Various metaphoric images can have close symbolic meaning determined by poet’s primary motivation with help of phonetic means of language expression. Received data show that synesthets’ perception depends on the language, the text is written in, and emotionality/inemotionality (characteristic feature offered by one respondent) of reader’s manner of reciting in the recording. Image symbols evoked while reading and listening to English and Russian texts can be the same in case the tested person regards the translation more successful.
 Conclusion. Image symbols associated by complex synesthts with sound and colour of poetic texts appear in the subconscious on the ground of synesthemia (co-sensation and co-emotion). Sound-colour-symbol perception is determined by individual peculiarities of synesthesia and synesthets’ personal experience.

Modern technological conditions make it possible to create, quickly replicate and use audio books conveniently. Audio books are one of the fastest growing segments of the global publishing market. Informative issues of creating audio books, not technological ones, are in the research focus of the article. The content of an audiobook is a voiced text that refers to the “auditory literature”. Assessments of the quality of the auditory literature are polar. On the one hand, it is considered secondary to the original literary text; on the other hand, it is a self-contained artistic phenomenon with its own aesthetic nature. In this article, an audiobook is considered precisely in the aspect of its artistic value, which is highlighted when speaking about the genre nature of the voiced text. The genre features of the voiced text in this study are identified taking into account the communicative features of its formal-stylistic features. The communicative nature of the audiobook genre is associated with two types of reading, which reflect the opposite positions of the two participants in communication. On the one hand, this is an expres-sive reading aloud, which can also be defined as staged reading. Genetically, this type of reading is associated with public performances of artists and initially assumed live reading. Further, this type of reading is transformed into the genre of radio plays, called “theater at the microphone”. In modern communicative practices of creating and repli-cating audio content, including one related to the actor’s readings of works of art, there is no binding to time and place. On the other hand, this is auditory reading, a modifica-tion of which is audio reading in modern technological conditions. If auditory reading is the first reading practice of a child mastering books from the voice of a parent, then audio reading is the choice of an adult who can read. The acoustic representation of a literary work is associated not only with the performance of elementary technical characteristics of sound, but also with the introduction of a certain aesthetic value into it. The creative translation of a literary text from verbal to acoustic should preserve its value in the aesthetic plane, without reducing it to a purely pragmatic one. Actualization of the aesthetic value of an audiobook outside of its paper format is associated with the principles of its directing and editorial preparation – the principles associated with the implementation of the stylistic characteristics of the genre form of an audiobook. Translation of a verbal literary text into an audio one is carried out as a result of comparing reading a book to dramatic action. In this case, the forming element of the genre becomes the sounding text itself. In the case of audio books, the reader’s voice as a performer’s instru-ment and the musical noise accompaniment of the text read is a style-forming genre element. The article traces the publishing strategies for the embodiment of the formal-stylistic features of the audiobook genre in the context of modern audio cultural practices.

Abstract The article takes a look at the translation of children’s literature intended for reading aloud. The pragmatic (or theoretical) point of departure is a ‘narrative contract’ between the child (audience) and the reader as in the oral tradition of yesteryear. It is therefore argued that, at least initially, children’s literature for reading aloud was a continuation of the narrative tradition in the extended family adapted to the conditions and mores of the nuclear family. The nuclear family was a 19th century innovation promoted by the new middle classes, and they best carried on the narrative tradition by means of stories such as those of the brothers Grimm in Germany and Hans Christian Andersen in Denmark. Referring to an informal questionnaire among Translation Studies scholars covering eleven countries, it is concluded that the tradition of reading aloud for children is alive and well. This leads to a model for the translational situation for read-aloud literature that calls for guiding principles in the exploration of differences between ‘originals’ and ‘translations.’ Having introduced such layers, viz. the structural, the linguistic, the content and intentional ones, a paratextual and chronological layer are also called for, because of the ubiquity of modern co-prints and the need to introduce diachronic perspectives. The article discusses decision-makers in the process of translation, such as publishers and the like, and also briefly views questions of translational traditions before it discusses translations of the Grimm Tales into English and Danish, to conclude that there are two different schools of ‘respectable translators,’ one targeting stories for reading aloud and another for silent reading, even though the translators may not be aware of this. The final part takes up questions concerning the translation of names, rhymes, and a highly complex text which is discussed in depth. The conclusion is that translation for reading aloud is an art requiring great competence of translators. It also ought to attract more attention from Translation Studies scholars because it questions fundamentals in translation work that are also found in other types of translation. Readers should read aloud the passages cited in order to appreciate the commentary!

Objective: Pregnancy and depression affect each other. The main objective of our study was to find out frequency of antenatal depression during last trimester and associated risk factors among pregnant female visiting a tertiary care private institution of Lahore, Pakistan.
 Methods: This study was conducted at Shalamar Hospital a private tertiary care institution of Lahore during May 2017 to June 2018. Assuming 18% prevalence with design effect 1.5 and 97% confidence interval the calculated sample size was 417. To avoid dropouts the questionnaire was administered to 450 pregnant females in their last trimester that is with gestational age above 28 weeks. In this study we used a modified version of Goldberg’s depression scale in Urdu language for data collection. Wherever needed the data collection team read out aloud the questionnaire to the participants who did not know how to read and write. Informed consent in a written form (in Urdu language) was taken from every study participant after explaining the participants about the research. If the participant did not know how to read and write, the interviewers narrated out aloud the script of informed consent for them and got it signed later by the participants. The confidentiality, anonymity and privacy of the study participants were preserved. Ethical approval of this study was obtained from Institutional Review Board of Shalamar Institute of Health Sciences. Data entry and analysis was finalized by using SPSS version 20.
 Results: The prevalence of depression among women seeking antenatal care during their last trimester according to Goldberg Depression Scale was 40.89% (n=184).Whereas, 30.4% (n=137), 8.67% (n=39) and 1.78% (n=8) suffered from mild, moderate and severe depression respectively. The associations between passive smoking (p < 0.01), family history of preeclampsia (p < 0.05) and depression among family members (p < 0.05) with antenatal depression during last trimester were significant.
 Conclusion: According to Goldberg Depression Scale, 40.89% (n=184) of pregnant women seeking antenatal care in private tertiary care institution of Lahore suffered from depression.
 How to cite this:Sabir M, Nagi MLF, Kazmi TH. Prevalence of antenatal depression among women receiving antenatal care during last trimester of pregnancy in a tertiary care private institute of Lahore. Pak J Med Sci. 2019;35(2):---------. doi: https://doi.org/10.12669/pjms.35.2.649
 This is an Open Access article distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution License (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0), which permits unrestricted use, distribution, and reproduction in any medium, provided the original work is properly cited.

McCall Smith, Alexander. The Great Cake Mystery: Precious Ramotswe’s Very First Case. Illus. Iain McIntosh. New York: Anchor, 2012. Print.Adult readers around the world have been charmed by the best-selling “No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency” series, in which Mma Ramotswe tackles the troubling mysteries and personal problems of ordinary people, and does so by relying on her sharp wit and her extraordinary insight into human nature. In this book, young readers will be introduced to a school girl who is destined to become a great detective. Here, Precious Ramotswe – “one of the nicest girls in Botswana” challenges her classmates’ assumptions in order to solve her first case. The story begins when Precious asks her beloved father to recount her favourite story: an account of the time he was “nearly eaten by a lion”. Since young Precious can tell which parts of his story really happened and which parts are made up, her father suggests that she might become a detective someday. His idea is soon put to the test when her classmates begin to notice that their lunch-time treats are being stolen from the outside shelf where they leave their bags during school. When the children scapegoat a shy boy with a sweet tooth, Precious realizes that she will need to do more than find the truth, she will need to prove it.This book has the charm of the original series, and is recommended for readers aged 7-10 years old. It offers an engaging story and several life lessons. Further, the story offers young readers a glimpse of ordinary daily life in Africa, and the author hopes it “will inspire them to read more about that wonderful continent and its remarkable people” .In a note addressed to the reader at the back of the book, the author tells us that families have been reading his “No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency” series aloud together, but acknowledges that the series would be challenging for young readers to read on their own, and so this book has been written with young readers in mind. Teachers and librarians who are fans of Mma Ramotswe will enjoy sharing her adventures with young readers, and will be pleased to find various curriculum materials at the back of the book.Highly recommended: 4 stars out of 4 Reviewer: Linda QuirkLinda is Assistant Special Collections Librarian at the Bruce Peel Special Collections Library at the University of Alberta.

I wake up early, questions buzzing through my mind. While I sip my morning cup of tea and read The Guardian online, the writer, restless because I’m ignoring her, walks around firing questions.“Expecting the patriarchy to want to share its enormous wealth and power with women is extremely naïve.”I nod. Outside the window pieces of sky are framed by trees, fluffy white clouds alternate with bright patches of blue. The sweet, heady first wafts of lavender and citrus drift in through the open window. Spring has come to Hvar. Time to get to work.The more I understand about narcissism, the more I understand the world. I didn’t understand before. In the 1990s.“No—you knew, but you didn’t know at the same time.”I kept telling everybody The River Ophelia wasn’t about sex, (or the sex wasn’t about sex), it was about power. Not many people listened or heard, though. Only some readers.I’ve come here to get away. To disappear. To write.I can’t find the essay I want for my article about the 1990s. I consider the novel I’m reading, I Love Dick by Chris Kraus and wonder whether I should write about it instead? It’s just been reprinted, twenty years after its initial release. The back cover boasts, “widely considered to be the most important feminist novel of the past two decades.” It was first published in the 1990s. So far it’s about a woman named Chris who’s addictively obsessed with an unavailable man, though I’m yet to unravel Kraus’s particular brand of feminism—abjection? Maybe, maybe … while I think, I click through my storage folder. Half way through, I find a piece I wrote about Kathy Acker in 1997, a tribute of sorts that was never published. The last I’d heard from Kathy before this had been that she was heading down to Mexico to try shark cartilage for her breast cancer. That was just before she died.When I was first introduced to the work of Foucault and Deleuze, it was very political; it was about what was happening to the economy and about changing the political system. By the time it was taken up by the American academy, the politics had gone to hell. (Acker qtd. in Friedman 20)Looking back, I’d have to say my friendship with Kathy Acker was intense and short-lived.In the original I’d written “was a little off and on.” But I prefer the new version. I first met Kathy in person in Sydney, in 1995. We were at a World Art launch at Ariel bookshop and I remember feeling distinctly nervous. As it turned out, I needn’t have been. Nervous, that is.Reading this now brings it all back: how Kathy and I lost touch in the intervening two years and the sudden fact of her death. I turn to the end and read, “She died tragically, not only because she was much too young, but because American literature seems rather frumpy without her, of cancer on the 30th November 1997, aged 53.”The same age as I am now. (While some believe Kathy was 50 when she died, Kathy told me she lied about her age even to the point of changing her passport. Women who lie about their age tend to want to be younger than they are, so I’m sticking with 53.) This coincidence spooks me a little.I make a cup of tea and eat some chocolate.“This could work …” the writer says. My reasons for feeling nervous were historical. I’d spoken to Kathy once previously (before the publication of The River Ophelia on the phone from Seattle to San Francisco in 1993) and the conversation had ended abruptly. I’d wanted to interview Kathy for my PhD on American fiction but Kathy wouldn’t commit. Now I was meeting her face to face and trying to push the past to the back of my mind.The evening turned out to be a memorable one. A whole bunch of us—a mixture of writers, publishers, academics and literati—went out to dinner and then carried on drinking well into the night. I made plans to see Kathy again. She struck me as a warm, generous, sincere and intensely engaging person. It seemed we might become friends. I hesitated: should I include the rest? Or was that too much?The first thing Kathy had said when we were introduced was, “I loved your book, The River Ophelia. I found it as soon as I arrived. I bought it from the bookshop at the airport. I saw your amazing cover and then I read on the back that it was influenced by the work of Kathy Acker. I was like, wow, no one in America has ever put that on the back cover of a novel. So I read it immediately and I couldn’t put it down. I love the way you’ve deconstructed the canon but still managed to put a compelling narrative to it. I never did that.”Why didn’t I include that? It had given me more satisfaction than anything anyone else had said.I remember how quickly I abandoned my bestselling life in Sydney, sexual harassment had all but ruined my career, and exchanged it for an uncertain future in London. My notoriety as an author was damaging my books and my relationship with my publisher had become toxic. The first thing I did in London was hire a lawyer, break my contract with Picador and take both novels out of print.Reality intrudes in the form of a phone call from my mother. Terminally ill with cancer, she informs me that she’s off her food. For a retired chef, the loss of appetite is not inconsiderable. Her dying is a dull ache, a constant tiredness and sadness in me. She’s just arrived in London. I will go there next week to meet her.(1)I first came across Kathy’s work in 1991. I’d just finished my MA thesis on postmodernism and parody and was rewarding myself with some real reading (i.e. not related to my thesis) when I came across the novel Don Quixote. This novel had a tremendous impact on me. Those familiar with DQ may recall that it begins with an abortion that transforms its female narrator into a knight.When she was finally crazy because she was about to have an abortion, she conceived of the most insane idea that any woman can think of. Which is to love. How can a woman love? By loving someone other than herself. (Acker Quixote 9)Kathy’s opening sentences produced a powerful emotional response in me and her bold confronting account of an abortion both put me in touch with feelings I was trying to avoid and connected these disturbing feelings with a broader political context. Kathy’s technique of linking the personal and emotional with the political changed the way I worked as a writer.I’d submitted the piece as an obituary for publication to an Australian journal; the editor had written suggestions in the margin in red. All about making the piece a more conventional academic essay. I hadn’t been sure that was what I wanted to do. Ambitious, creative, I was trying to put poststructuralist theory into practice, to write theoretical fiction. It’s true, I hadn’t been to the Sorbonne, but so what? What was the point of studying theory if one didn’t put it into practice? I was trying to write like French theorists, not to write about them. The editor’s remarks would have made a better academic essay, it’s just I’m not sure that’s where I wanted to go. I never rewrote it and it was never published.I first encountered I Love Dick (2017) during a film course at the AFTVRS when the lecturer presented a short clip of the adaptation for the class to analyse. When I later saw the novel in a bookshop I bought a copy. Given my discovery of the unpublished obituary it is also a bit spooky that I’m reading this book as both Chris Kraus and Kathy Acker had relationships with academic and Semiotext(e) publisher Sylvère Lotringer. Chris as his wife, Kathy as his lover. Kraus wrote a biography of Acker called After Kathy Acker: A Biography, which seems fairly unsympathetic according to the review I read in The Guardian. (Cooke 2017) Intrigued, I add Kraus’s biography to my growing pile of Acker related reading, the Acker/Wark letters I’m Very Into You and Olivia Laing’s novel, Crudo. While I’ve not read the letters yet, Crudo’s breathless yet rhythmic layering of images and it’s fragmented reflections upon war, women and politics reminded me less of Acker and more of Woolf; Mrs Dalloway, in fact.(2)What most inspired me, and what makes Kathy such a great writer, is her manner of writing politically. For the purposes of this piece, when I say Kathy writes politically, I’m referring to what happens when you read her books. That is, your mind—fuelled by powerful feelings—makes creative leaps that link everyday things and ideas with political discourses and debates (for Kathy, these were usually critiques of bourgeois society, of oedipal culture and of the patriarchy).In the first pages of Don Quixote, for example, an abortion becomes synonymous with the process of becoming a knight. The links Kathy makes between these two seemingly unrelated events yields a political message for the creative reader. There is more at stake than just gender-bending or metamorphoses here: a reversal of power seems to have taken place. A relatively powerless woman (a female victim except for the fact that in having an abortion she’s exerting some measure of control over her life), far from being destroyed by the experience of aborting her foetus, actually gains power—power to become a knight and go about the world fulfilling a quest. In writing about an abortion in this way, Kathy challenges our assumptions about this controversial topic: beyond the moral debate, there are other issues at stake, like identity and power. An abortion becomes a birth, rather than a banal tragedy.When I think about the 1990s, I automatically think of shoulder pads, cocktails and expense accounts (the consumption of the former, in my case, dependent on the latter). But on reflection, I think about the corporatisation of the publishing industry, the Backlash and films like Thelma and Louise, (1991) Basic Instinct (1992) and Single White Female (1992). It occurs to me that the Hollywood movie star glamorous #MeToo has its origin in the turbulent 1990s Backlash. When I first saw each of these films I thought they were exciting, controversial. I loved the provocative stance they took about women. But looking back I can’t help wondering: whose stories were they really, why were we hearing them and what was the political point?It was a confusing time in terms of debates about gender equality.Excluding the premise for Thelma and Louise, all three films present as narrative truth scenarios that ran in stark contrast to reality. When it came to violence and women, most domestic homicide and violence was perpetrated by men. And violence towards women, in the 1990s, was statistically on the rise and there’s little improvement in these statistics today.Utter chaos, having a British passport never feels quite so wonderful as it does in the arrivals hall at Heathrow.“Perhaps these films allow women to fantasise about killing the men who are violent towards them?”Nyah, BI is chick killing chick … and think about the moral to the story. Fantasy OK, concrete action painful, even deadly.“Different story today …”How so?“Violent female protagonists are all the rage and definitely profitable. Killing Eve (2018) and A Simple Favour (2018).”I don’t have an immediate answer here. Killing Eve is a TV series, I think aloud, A Simple Favour structurally similar to Single White Female … “Why don’t you try self-publishing? It’ll be 20 years since you took The River Ophelia out of print, bit of an anniversary, maybe it’s time?”Not a bad idea. I’m now on the tube to meet mum at her bed and breakfast but the writer is impatient to get back to work. Maybe I should just write the screenplay instead?“Try both. If you don’t believe in your writing, who else will?”She has a point. I’m not getting anywhere with my new novel.A message pips through on Facebook. Want to catch up?What? Talk about out of the blue. I haven’t heard from Sade in twenty years … and how on earth did he get through my privacy settings?After meeting mum, the next thing I do is go to the doctor. My old doctor from West Kensington, she asks me how I’m going and I say I’m fine except that mum’s dying and this awful narcissistic ex-partner of mine has contacted me on Facebook. She recommends I read the following article, “The Highly Sensitive Person and the Narcissist” (Psychology Today).“Sometimes being a kind caring person makes you vulnerable to abusers.”After the appointment I can’t get her words out of my head.I dash into a Starbucks, I’m in Notting Hill just near the tube station, and read the article on my laptop on wifi. I highlight various sections. Narcissists “have a complete lack of empathy for others including their own family and friends, so that they will take advantage of people to get their own needs and desires met, even if it hurts someone.” That sounds about right, Sade could always find some way of masking his real motives in charm, or twisting reality around to make it look like things weren’t his fault, they were mine. How cleverly he’d lied! Narcissists, I read, are attracted to kind, compassionate people who they then use and lie to without remorse.But the bit that really makes me sit up is towards the end of the article. “For someone on the outside looking at a relationship between a highly sensitive person and a narcissist, it’s all too easy to blame the HSP. How and why would anyone want to stay in such a relationship?” Narcissists are incredibly good at making you doubt yourself, especially the part of you that says: this has happened before, it’ll happen again. You need to leave.The opening paragraph of the psychology textbook I read next uses Donald Trump as an example. Trump is also Patrick Bateman’s hero, the misogynistic serial killer protagonist of Bret Easton Ellis’s notorious American Psycho. Despite an earlier version that broadly focused on New York fiction of the 1990s, Ellis’s novel and the feminist outcry it provoked became the central topic of my PhD.“Are you alright mum?”I’ve just picked Mum up and I’m driving her to Paris for a night and then on to Switzerland where she’s going to have voluntary euthanasia. Despite the London drizzle and the horrific traffic the whole thing has a Thelma and Louise feel about it. I tell mum and she laughs.“We should watch it again. Have you seen it since it first came out?”“Sounds like a good idea.”Mum, tiny, pointy-kneed and wearing an out-of-character fluoro green beanie given to her at the oncology clinic in Sydney, is being very stoic but I can tell from the way she constantly wrings her hands that she’s actually quite terrified.“OK Louise,” she says as I unfold her Zimmer frame later that evening.“OK Thelma,” I reply as she walks off towards the hotel.Paris is a treat. My brother is waiting inside and we’re hoping to enjoy one last meal together.Mum didn’t want to continue with chemo at 83, but she’s frightened of dying a horrific death. As we approach hotel reception Mum can’t help taking a detour to inspect the dinner menu at the hotel restaurant.“Oysters naturel. That sounds nice.”I smile, wait, and take her by the elbow.I’ve completely forgotten. The interview/review I wrote of Acker’s Pussy, King of the Pirates, in 1995 for Rolling Stone. Where is it? I open my laptop and quickly click through the endless publicity and reviews of The River Ophelia, the interview/review came out around the same time the novel was published, but I can’t find it. I know I had it out just a few months ago, when I was chasing up some freelance book reviews.I make a fresh pot of tea from the mini bar, green, and return to my Acker tribute. Should I try to get it published? Here, or back in Australia? Ever the émigré’s dilemma. I decide I like the Parisian sense of style in this room, especially the cotton-linen sheets.Finally, I find it, it’s in the wrong folder. Printing it out, I remember how Kathy had called her agent and publisher in New York, and her disbelief when I’d told her the book hadn’t been picked up overseas. Kathy’s call resulted in my first New York agent. I scrutinise its pages.Kathy smiles benign childlike creativity in the larger photo, and gestures in passionate exasperation in the smaller group, her baby face framed by countless metal ear piercings. The interview takes place—at Kathy’s insistence—on her futon in her hotel room. My memories clarify. It wasn’t that we drifted apart, or rather we did, but only after men had come between us first. Neither of us had much luck in that department.(4)Kathy’s writing is also political because her characters don’t act or speak the way you’d expect them to. They don’t seem to follow the rules or behave in the way your average fictional character tends to do. From sentence to sentence, Kathy’s characters either change into different people, or live revolutionary lives, or even more radical still, live impossible lives.When the narrator of DQ transforms herself into a knight (and lives an impossible life); she turns a situation in which she is passive and relatively powerless—she is about to be operated on and drugged—into an empowering experience (and lives a creative revolutionary life). Ironically, getting power means she turns herself into a male knight. But Kathy gets around the problem that power is male by not letting things rest there. The female, aborting Kathy isn’t actually replaced by a male knight, bits of him are just grafted onto her. Sure, she sets out on a quest, but the other aspects of her empowerment are pretty superficial: she does adopt a new name (which is more like a disguise), and identity (appearance); and picks up a bad habit or two—a tendency to talk in the language used by knights.“But who’s the father?” the writer wants to know. “I mean isn’t that the real question here?”No, that is exactly not the real question here and not the point. It is not about who the father is—it’s about what happens to a woman who has an unwanted unplanned pregnancy.The phone rings. It’s my brother. Mum’s waiting for me downstairs and the oysters are beckoning.(5)The idea that writing could be political was very appealing. The transformation between my first novel, Marilyn’s Almost Terminal New York Adventure and my second, The River Ophelia (Picador insisted on publishing them in reverse chronology) was partly a result of my discovery of Kathy’s work and the ideas it set off in me. Kathy wasn’t the first novelist to write politically, but she was the first female novelist to do so in a way that had an immediate impact on me at an emotional level. And it was this powerful emotional response that inspired me as a writer—I wanted to affect my readers in a similar way (because reading Kathy’s work, I felt less alone and that my darkest experiences, so long silenced by shame and skirted around in the interests of maintaining appearances, could be given a voice).We’re driving through Switzerland and I’m thinking about narcissism and the way the narcissists in my personal and professional life overshadowed everything else. But now it’s time to give the rest of the world some attention. It’s also one way of pulling back the power from the psychopaths who rule the world.As we approach Zurich, my mother asks to pull over so she can use the ladies. When she comes out I can see she’s been crying. Inside the car, she reaches for my hand and clasps it. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough to say goodbye.”“It’s alright Mum,” I say and hold her while we both cry.A police car drives by and my mother’s eyes snag. Harassed by the police in Australia and unable to obtain Nembutal in the UK, Mum has run out of options.To be a woman in this society is to find oneself living outside the law. Maybe this is what Acker meant when she wrote about becoming a pirate, or a knight?Textual deconstruction can be a risky business and writers like Acker walk a fine line when it comes to the law. Empire of the Senseless ran into a plagiarism suit in the UK and her publishers forced Acker to sign an apology to Harold Robbins (Acker Hannibal Lecter 13). My third novel Dependency similarly fell foul of the law when I discovered that in deconstructing gossip and myths about celebrities, drawing on their lives and then making stuff up, the result proved prophetic. When my publisher, Harper Collins, refused to indemnify me against potential unintended defamation I pulled the book from its contract on the advice of a lawyer. I was worth seven million pounds on paper at that point, the internet travel site my then husband and I had founded with Bob Geldof had taken off, and the novel was a radical hybrid text comprised of Rupert Murdoch’s biography, Shakespeare’s King Lear and Hello Magazine and I was worried that Murdoch might come after me personally. I’d fictionalised him as a King Lear type, writing his Cordelia out of his will and leaving everything to his Goneril and Reagan.Recent theoretical studies argue that Acker’s appropriation and deconstruction constitute a feminist politics as “fragmentation” (June 2) and as “agency” (Pitchford 22). As Acker puts it. “And then it’s like a kid: suddenly a toy shop opens up and the toy shop was called culture.” (Acker Hannibal Lecter 11).We don’t easily fit in a system that wasn’t ever designed to meet our needs.(6)By writing about the most private parts of women’s lives, I’ve tried to show how far there is to go before women and men are equal on a personal level. The River Ophelia is about a young woman whose public life might seem a success from the outside (she is a student doing an honours year at university in receipt of a scholarship), but whose private life is insufferable (she knows nothing about dealing with misogyny on an intimate level and she has no real relationship-survival skills, partly as a result of her family history, partly because the only survival skills she has have been inscribed by patriarchy and leave her vulnerable to more abuse). When Justine-the-character learns how to get around sexism of the personal variety (by re-inventing her life through parodies of classic texts about oedipal society) she not only changes her life, but she passes on her new-found survival skills to the reader.A disturbing tale about a young university student who loses herself in a destructive relationship, The River Ophelia is a postmodern novel about domestic violence and sexual harassment in the academy, contrary to its marketing campaign at the time. It’s protagonist, Justine, loves Sade but Sade is only interested in sex; indeed, he’s a brutish sex addict. Despite this, Justine can’t seem to leave: for all her education, she’s looking for love and commitment in all the wrong places. While the feminist lore of previous generations seems to work well in theory, Justine can’t seem to make it work in practise. Owning her power and experimenting with her own sexuality only leaves her feeling more despairing than before. Unconventional, compelling and controversial, The River Ophelia became an instant best-seller and is credited with beginning the Australian literary movement known as grunge/dirty realism.But there is always the possibility, given the rich intertextuality and self referentiality, that The River Ophelia is Justine’s honours thesis in creative writing. In this case, Sade, Juliette, Ophelia, Hamlet, Bataille, Simone, Marcelle and Leopold become hybrids made up from appropriated canonical characters, fragments of Justine’s turbulent student’s world and invented sections. But The River Ophelia is also a feminist novel that partly began as a dialogue with Ellis whose scandalous American Psycho it parodies even as it reinvents. This creative activity, which also involves the reader by inviting her to participate in the textual play, eventually empowers Justine over the canon and over her perpetrator, Sade.Another hotel room. This one, just out of Zürich, is tiny. I place my suitcase on the rack beneath the window overlooking the narrow street and start to unpack.“Hasn’t this all been said before, about The River Ophelia?” The writer says, trying out the bed. I’m in the middle of an email about self-publishing a new edition of TRO.Some of it. While the grunge label has been refuted, Acker’s influence has been underplayed.Acker often named her protagonists after herself, so losing the Acker part of my textual filiation plays into the whole grunge/dirty realism marketing campaign. I’ve talked about how I always name protagonists after famous women but not linked this to Acker. Bohemia Beach has a protagonist named after Cathy as in Wuthering Heights. Justine of The River Ophelia was doubly an Acker trait: firstly, she was named Justine after De Sade’s character and is a deconstruction of that character, and secondly she was named Justine self-reflexively after me, as a tribute to Kathy as in Kathy Goes to Haiti.The other context for The River Ophelia that has been lost is to do with the early work of Mary Gaitskill, and Catherine Texier. The narcissists were so destructive and so powerful they left no time for the relatively more subtle Gaitskill or Texier. Prototypes for Sex in the City, the 1990s was also a time when Downtown New York women writers explored the idea that gender equality meant women could do anything men did sexually, that they deserved the full gamut of libertine sexual freedoms. Twenty years on it should also be said that women who push the envelope by writing women protagonists who are every bit as sexually transgressive as men, every bit as addictively self-destructive as male protagonists deserve not to be shamed for that experimentation. They deserve to be celebrated and read.AfterwordI’d like to remember Kathy as I knew her briefly in Sydney. A bottle-blonde with a number two haircut, a leopard-skin bikini and a totally tattooed body, she swam a surprisingly genteel breast-stroke in the next lane in one of the world’s most macho lap-swimming pools.ReferencesA Simple Favour. Dir. Paul Feig. Lionsgate, 2018.Acker, Kathy. Don Quixote. London: Collins, 1986.———. Empire of the Senseless. New York: Grove, 1988.———. Hannibal Lecter, My Father. New York: Semiotext(e), 1991.———. Kathy Goes to Haiti. New York: Grove Press/Atlantic Monthly, 1994.——— and McKenzie Wark. I’m Very into You: Correspondence 1995-1996. New York: Semiotext(e), 2015.Basic Instinct. Dir. Paul Verhoeven. TriStar Pictures, 1992.Brontë, Emily. Wuthering Heights. New York: Norton and Co, 2003.Bushnell, Candace. Sex in the City. United States: Grand Central Publishing, 1996.Cooke, Rachel. “Review of After Kathy Acker: A Biography by Chris Kraus—Baffling Life Study.” The Guardian 4 Sep. 2017. 4 Dec. 2018 <https://www.theguardian.com/books/2017/sep/04/after-kathy-acker-a-biography-chris-kraus-review>.Deleuze, Gilles, and Felix Guattari. A Thousand Plateaus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1987.Ellis, Bret Easton. American Psycho. New York: Vintage, 1991.Ettler, Justine. Bohemia Beach. Melbourne: Transit Lounge. 2018.———. “Kathy Acker: King of the Pussies.” Review of Pussy, King of the Pirates, by Kathy Acker. Rolling Stone. Nov. 1995: 60-61.———. Marilyn’s Almost Terminal New York Adventure. Sydney: Picador, 1996.———. “La Trobe University Essay: Bret Easton Ellis’s Glamorama, and Catherine Texier’s Break Up.” Australian Book Review, 1995.———. The Best Ellis for Business: A Re-Examination of the Mass Media Feminist Critique of “American Psycho.” PhD. Sydney: University of Sydney, 2013.———. The River Ophelia. Sydney: Picador, 1995.Faludi, Susan. Backlash: The Undeclared War against American Women. New York: Crown, 1991.Friedman, Ellen G. “A Conversation with Kathy Acker.” The Review of Contemporary Fiction 9.3 (Fall 1989): 20-21.Gaitskill, Mary. Bad Behaviour. New York: Random House, 1988.I Love Dick. Dir. Jill Soloway. Amazon Video, 2017.June, Pamela B. The Fragmented Female Body and Identity: The Postmodern Feminist and Multiethnic Writings of Toni Morrison, Therese Huk, Kyung Cha, Phyllis Alesia Perry, Gayl Jones, Emma Perez, Paula Gunn Allen, and Kathy Acker. New York: Peter Lang Publishing, 2010.Killing Eve. Dir. Phoebe Waller-Bridge. BBC America, 2018.Kraus, Chris. After Kathy Acker: A Biography. London: Penguin, 2017.———. I Love Dick. London: Serpent’s Tail, 2016.Laing, Olivia. Crudo. London: Picador, 2018.Lee, Bandy. The Case of Donald Trump: 27 Psychiatrists and Mental Health Experts Assess a President. New York: St Martin’s Press. 2017.Lombard, Nancy, and Lesley McMillan. “Introduction.” Violence against Women. Eds. Nancy Lombard and Lesley McMillan. London: Jessica Kingsley Publishers, 2013.Pitchford, Nicola. Tactical Readings: Feminist Postmodernism in the Novels of Kathy Acker and Angela Carter. London: Associated Uni Press, 2002.Schiffrin, André. The Business of Books: How International Conglomerates Took Over Publishing and Changed the Way We Read. London and New York: Verso, 2000.Shakespeare, William. King Lear. London: Penguin Classics, 2015.Siegle, Robert. Suburban Ambush: Downtown Writing and the Fiction of Insurgency. United States: John Hopkins Press, 1989.Single White Female. Dir. Barbet Schroeder. Columbia Pictures, 1992.Texier, Catherine. Panic Blood. London: Collins, 1991.Thelma and Louise. Dir. Ridley Scott. Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1991.Ward, Deborah. “Sense and Sensitivity: The Highly Sensitive Person and the Narcissist.” Psychology Today (16 Jan. 2012). 4 Dec. 2018 <https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/sense-and-sensitivity/201201/the-highly-sensitive-person-and-the-narcissist>.

There comes a point when students who are reading older texts want to hear how those texts sounded and thus try to read them aloud themselves. At this point, historical phonology becomes not just a fascinating intellectual exercise but something practical and useful. It isn’t just students of English language who are interested but students of literature and theatre too. This chapter reports the author’s experience in teaching Shakespearean original pronunciation to voice specialists, dialect coaches, theatre companies, and students of English, in both first-language and second-language contexts. It reviews the kinds of question students ask and discusses teaching strategies.

Tony Harrison has always had a deep connection with Italy and Italian poets, above all Naples and Leopardi. The article tries to show that Harrison’s sentence ‘it’s all poetry to me, whether it is for the printed page, or for reading aloud, or for the theatre, or the opera house, or concert hall, or even for television’ can be read as ‘it’s all translation to me’. The main idea is that translation works as the volcanic wine, Falanghina, disaster-nourished’, which transforms the lava of Vesuvius into a tasteful wine as described in Harrison's poem Piazza Sannazzaro. The process of translating from Latin and Greek or from other modern languages seems to equate, for Harrison, with the general process of creation either in a positive or in a negative sense. Translating, like poetry, is at the same time impossible and necessary, cannibalisation/Calibanisation of the original text (the case of The Trackers of Oxyrhynchus) and negotiation with the ruina of ‘the fleeting life’ represented by the Volcano, in order to find a new-ancient voice, the half-pissed poet-translator’s voice, that always sounds political, contains a public, even hectoring relevance (the case, among many others, of The Krieg Anthology).