Relevant Resources Corresponding with Blog Postings
{Image via "As Above, So Below", Dowdle 2014.}
Re: Possession, A. S. Byatt
Though the blog posts of The Neo-Victorian Faux Historian are centered around the Neo-Victorian course that I am taking as a Graduate student, I often find the greatest joy in my academic career is the opportunity to make contemporary film connections. With the point of the resources on this page being to move the discussion of these novels forward, I would like to enhance the critical conversation of the novels by pairing them with appropriate films while also offering some scholarship, should readers be more interested in the latter.
One of the key focuses within Possession is the question of who has the right to what, if any have a right at all? Who has the right to keep important discoveries to themselves? Who has the right to keep an individual to themselves, even if they are unhappy? One film from 2014 answers these questions in an interesting parallel to Byatt's novel. Directed by John Erick Dowdle, the horror film titled As Above, So Below is a film that follows a scholar in their pursuit of knowledge to its bitter end. Echoing Byatt's protagonist's desire to prove something to the world with never-before-seen letters, the film's protagonist is searching after something that is believed to be completely fictitious... The Philosopher's Stone. Without giving too much away, the found-footage film follows the scholar and her company through Hell (literally) to find Nicolas Flamel's famed stone. The moral of the story in As Above, So Below is that the world is what you make of it, leaving the power of the fictional stone to be within each individual should they find it in themselves. Similarly, Byatt's novel ends with Roland and Maud discovering the truths within themselves. The strongest connection between these two stories, though, is found at their start. Both journeys begin with stealing artifacts, with placing oneself where they do not have the authority to be. Though the outcome may be learning the truth, whether it be a personal or historical truth, the cost of taking artifacts for personal gain causes strife and turmoil throughout both journeys.
At the core of Byatt's Neo-Victorian novel, Possession shows Post Structuralism in full motion. Through breaking down personal relationships, the history of a famed poet, and the understanding of oneself, Byatt moves readers through the process of understanding one's own motives. As Above, So Below calls for the same self-discovery. In learning what really drives our own actions, we learn about ourselves. To this note, I present an overview of Post Structuralism, produced by the trusted Purdue OWL, as well as an article from Edge Hill University that reflects on Literature as a historical source and questions what readers are meant to take, or leave behind. Lastly, the third link below leads to an article written by John J. Su, found on JSTOR, which offers insight into the "Lures of Collecting" and the "Truth of Objects".
- "Literature as a Historical Source", Edge Hill University
- "Post-Structuralism, Deconstruction, Postmodernism", Owl Purdue
- "Fantasies of (Re)Collection: Collecting and Imagination in A. S. Byatt's 'Possession: A Romance'", Contemporary Literature
Though the blog posts of The Neo-Victorian Faux Historian are centered around the Neo-Victorian course that I am taking as a Graduate student, I often find the greatest joy in my academic career is the opportunity to make contemporary film connections. With the point of the resources on this page being to move the discussion of these novels forward, I would like to enhance the critical conversation of the novels by pairing them with appropriate films while also offering some scholarship, should readers be more interested in the latter.
One of the key focuses within Possession is the question of who has the right to what, if any have a right at all? Who has the right to keep important discoveries to themselves? Who has the right to keep an individual to themselves, even if they are unhappy? One film from 2014 answers these questions in an interesting parallel to Byatt's novel. Directed by John Erick Dowdle, the horror film titled As Above, So Below is a film that follows a scholar in their pursuit of knowledge to its bitter end. Echoing Byatt's protagonist's desire to prove something to the world with never-before-seen letters, the film's protagonist is searching after something that is believed to be completely fictitious... The Philosopher's Stone. Without giving too much away, the found-footage film follows the scholar and her company through Hell (literally) to find Nicolas Flamel's famed stone. The moral of the story in As Above, So Below is that the world is what you make of it, leaving the power of the fictional stone to be within each individual should they find it in themselves. Similarly, Byatt's novel ends with Roland and Maud discovering the truths within themselves. The strongest connection between these two stories, though, is found at their start. Both journeys begin with stealing artifacts, with placing oneself where they do not have the authority to be. Though the outcome may be learning the truth, whether it be a personal or historical truth, the cost of taking artifacts for personal gain causes strife and turmoil throughout both journeys.
At the core of Byatt's Neo-Victorian novel, Possession shows Post Structuralism in full motion. Through breaking down personal relationships, the history of a famed poet, and the understanding of oneself, Byatt moves readers through the process of understanding one's own motives. As Above, So Below calls for the same self-discovery. In learning what really drives our own actions, we learn about ourselves. To this note, I present an overview of Post Structuralism, produced by the trusted Purdue OWL, as well as an article from Edge Hill University that reflects on Literature as a historical source and questions what readers are meant to take, or leave behind. Lastly, the third link below leads to an article written by John J. Su, found on JSTOR, which offers insight into the "Lures of Collecting" and the "Truth of Objects".
- "Literature as a Historical Source", Edge Hill University
- "Post-Structuralism, Deconstruction, Postmodernism", Owl Purdue
- "Fantasies of (Re)Collection: Collecting and Imagination in A. S. Byatt's 'Possession: A Romance'", Contemporary Literature
{Image via "Shutter Island", Scorsese 2010.}
Re: Alias Grace, Margaret Atwood
With regards to Alias Grace, Margaret Atwood's great murder mystery, readers get a unique twist on a"who dunnit" story line as they read not only from the perspective of the murder suspect but the doctors attempting to treat her. As readers of Atwood's novel begin annotating moments they believe will lead them to the truth, they will soon find what they thought to be an answer was only a misdirection. The novel ends with readers unsure of Grace's innocence, which identically mimics how audiences felt after watching Martin Scorsese's Shutter Island.
Leonardo DiCaprio plays the role of a U. S. Marshal who was sent to an island to evaluate and perhaps solve a missing persons case at an isolated mental health hospital. As the film unfolds, the audience discovers that the faculty of the facility could be performing unethical experiments on the patients at Ashecliffe, much like those that the Nazis performed in during the war that the Marshal had fought in. Though the only questionable treatment that Atwood's alleged murderess Grace Marks must go through is hypnotherapy, she relates to DiCaprio's character in the way that she gives her audience, both within the novel and reading the novel, just enough to make them believe her. By the end of Alias Grace, the reader cannot say for certain if Grace was in the wrong place at the wrong time, if she was guilty, or Grace is even her real name. Shutter Island reveals in its end that the Marshal had been searching for someone whose name was an anagram for his own, with the head of the facility suggesting that he had created this false narrative so that he could cope. All things considered alongside my blog post for this novel, truly the most interesting question to consider here has to do with perspective, perception, and purpose... What is in a name?
For those interested less in popular culture parallels, considering how the novel has been adapted as an on-screen experience is always an easy way to get juices flowing. Though themes of identity, troubling systems, and the issue of romanticizing murders are all present within Atwood's Alias Grace, gender plays a large role. Almost like an umbrella to everything else, the center bubble of the concept map, gender influences all angles of Alias Grace in how it is read as well as how Grace is read in the novel. Should anyone be looking for ways to engage in discussions regarding this matter, the links below would be a great place to start.
- "'Alias Grace', How a True-Crime Drama Became the Most Relevant Show on TV", Phoebe Reilly, Rolling Stones. Atwood's novel has once again been turned into a series that demands attention. Much like Handmaid's Tale, a popular streaming site has seen the genius of Atwood's interpretation of the world we find ourselves in. If you are interested in learning more about the adaptation, relevant gender politics, and the appeal of this fantasy, browse through this article.
- "The Real Villain in Netflix’s ‘Alias Grace’ Is the Male Gaze", Genevieve Valentine, Electric Lit. For further gender-focused discussion, particularly about Grace's suffering at the hands of the men in her life, take a moment to read this article. Valentine delves even deeper into Dr. Jordan's role and the lens through which he views Grace.
With regards to Alias Grace, Margaret Atwood's great murder mystery, readers get a unique twist on a"who dunnit" story line as they read not only from the perspective of the murder suspect but the doctors attempting to treat her. As readers of Atwood's novel begin annotating moments they believe will lead them to the truth, they will soon find what they thought to be an answer was only a misdirection. The novel ends with readers unsure of Grace's innocence, which identically mimics how audiences felt after watching Martin Scorsese's Shutter Island.
Leonardo DiCaprio plays the role of a U. S. Marshal who was sent to an island to evaluate and perhaps solve a missing persons case at an isolated mental health hospital. As the film unfolds, the audience discovers that the faculty of the facility could be performing unethical experiments on the patients at Ashecliffe, much like those that the Nazis performed in during the war that the Marshal had fought in. Though the only questionable treatment that Atwood's alleged murderess Grace Marks must go through is hypnotherapy, she relates to DiCaprio's character in the way that she gives her audience, both within the novel and reading the novel, just enough to make them believe her. By the end of Alias Grace, the reader cannot say for certain if Grace was in the wrong place at the wrong time, if she was guilty, or Grace is even her real name. Shutter Island reveals in its end that the Marshal had been searching for someone whose name was an anagram for his own, with the head of the facility suggesting that he had created this false narrative so that he could cope. All things considered alongside my blog post for this novel, truly the most interesting question to consider here has to do with perspective, perception, and purpose... What is in a name?
For those interested less in popular culture parallels, considering how the novel has been adapted as an on-screen experience is always an easy way to get juices flowing. Though themes of identity, troubling systems, and the issue of romanticizing murders are all present within Atwood's Alias Grace, gender plays a large role. Almost like an umbrella to everything else, the center bubble of the concept map, gender influences all angles of Alias Grace in how it is read as well as how Grace is read in the novel. Should anyone be looking for ways to engage in discussions regarding this matter, the links below would be a great place to start.
- "'Alias Grace', How a True-Crime Drama Became the Most Relevant Show on TV", Phoebe Reilly, Rolling Stones. Atwood's novel has once again been turned into a series that demands attention. Much like Handmaid's Tale, a popular streaming site has seen the genius of Atwood's interpretation of the world we find ourselves in. If you are interested in learning more about the adaptation, relevant gender politics, and the appeal of this fantasy, browse through this article.
- "The Real Villain in Netflix’s ‘Alias Grace’ Is the Male Gaze", Genevieve Valentine, Electric Lit. For further gender-focused discussion, particularly about Grace's suffering at the hands of the men in her life, take a moment to read this article. Valentine delves even deeper into Dr. Jordan's role and the lens through which he views Grace.
{Image via "The Green Mile', Darabont 1999.}
Re: Arthur & George, Julian Barnes
With regards to Barnes' novel titled Arthur & George, one of the first film parallels that came to mind was the on-screen adaptation of Stephen King's novel, The Green Mile. In Barnes' tale, a man of color has his innocence proven by a knight in shining white armor. However, the discussion for the accused had nothing to do about race from where he was sitting. To George, the color of his skin or his birthplace did not matter as he simply saw himself as a person belonging to the area and society he was currently involved with. Of course, with my blog mentioning Arthur's name being a play on "author" and the question of who was writing which part of the story and with what motive, I wonder here about John Coffey from The Green Mile.
As innocent of a soul as ever, John Coffey is a large black man who truly found himself in the wrong place at the wrong time, of the wrong era (much like Grace Marks, perhaps?). Portrayed by the talented Michael Clarke, the audience understand Coffey to be more of a sensitive and simple type of man who was sent to death row on account of the murder of two young girls. During his time on death row, though, he shows the correction officers and his fellow inmates how magical he is. Though he is still put to death, John Coffey's battle is one that is heavily rooted in racism though the audience is meant to believe he did not understand that aspect. A commonly quoted line of Coffey's is that he is tired of hurting, of people hurting each other. Truly a simple man who sees things in black in white, in love and understanding, Coffey reflects arguably the best parts of George.
When reading Barnes' Arthur & George and viewing The Green Mile, some questions that could be asked are:
- How else is John Coffey like Barnes' George?
- How is Barnes' Arthur like Paul Edgecomb, the commanding correctional officer?
- Considering the times in which these works take place and were published, what is being said about the author's/director's perspective on the society they find themselves to be a part of?
- How do the endings for the protagonists and antagonists differ between Arthur & George and The Green Mile? What is the significance of these differences?
For those looking for a discussion more rooted in diplomatic sources, or perhaps direct on-screen adaptations of Arthur & George, the following links might lead them to the right place.
- "Victorian: English Criminal Justice in the Nineteenth Century", Anna Castle. Diving into the truth of the Victorian justice system, this web page offers intriguing imagery and descriptions of aspects of the Victorian justice system. When considering the authors of trials and justice, look to this web page for the opportunity to discuss Sir Arthur's motives in proving George's innocence compared to Dr. Jordan's motives with Grace in Atwood's novel from previous postings.
- Clip from Arthur & George, the PBS Series Adaptation. This small clip captures the essence of Sir Arthur's persuasiveness mixed with a bit of Sherlockian whimsy, as he not only foresees the dubiousness and doubt but counters it immediately. The difference between Barnes' novel and the PBS adaptation, for me, is Sir Arthur's similarities with his created character, Sherlock Holmes, that are shown in the adaptation but lacking in the novel.
With regards to Barnes' novel titled Arthur & George, one of the first film parallels that came to mind was the on-screen adaptation of Stephen King's novel, The Green Mile. In Barnes' tale, a man of color has his innocence proven by a knight in shining white armor. However, the discussion for the accused had nothing to do about race from where he was sitting. To George, the color of his skin or his birthplace did not matter as he simply saw himself as a person belonging to the area and society he was currently involved with. Of course, with my blog mentioning Arthur's name being a play on "author" and the question of who was writing which part of the story and with what motive, I wonder here about John Coffey from The Green Mile.
As innocent of a soul as ever, John Coffey is a large black man who truly found himself in the wrong place at the wrong time, of the wrong era (much like Grace Marks, perhaps?). Portrayed by the talented Michael Clarke, the audience understand Coffey to be more of a sensitive and simple type of man who was sent to death row on account of the murder of two young girls. During his time on death row, though, he shows the correction officers and his fellow inmates how magical he is. Though he is still put to death, John Coffey's battle is one that is heavily rooted in racism though the audience is meant to believe he did not understand that aspect. A commonly quoted line of Coffey's is that he is tired of hurting, of people hurting each other. Truly a simple man who sees things in black in white, in love and understanding, Coffey reflects arguably the best parts of George.
When reading Barnes' Arthur & George and viewing The Green Mile, some questions that could be asked are:
- How else is John Coffey like Barnes' George?
- How is Barnes' Arthur like Paul Edgecomb, the commanding correctional officer?
- Considering the times in which these works take place and were published, what is being said about the author's/director's perspective on the society they find themselves to be a part of?
- How do the endings for the protagonists and antagonists differ between Arthur & George and The Green Mile? What is the significance of these differences?
For those looking for a discussion more rooted in diplomatic sources, or perhaps direct on-screen adaptations of Arthur & George, the following links might lead them to the right place.
- "Victorian: English Criminal Justice in the Nineteenth Century", Anna Castle. Diving into the truth of the Victorian justice system, this web page offers intriguing imagery and descriptions of aspects of the Victorian justice system. When considering the authors of trials and justice, look to this web page for the opportunity to discuss Sir Arthur's motives in proving George's innocence compared to Dr. Jordan's motives with Grace in Atwood's novel from previous postings.
- Clip from Arthur & George, the PBS Series Adaptation. This small clip captures the essence of Sir Arthur's persuasiveness mixed with a bit of Sherlockian whimsy, as he not only foresees the dubiousness and doubt but counters it immediately. The difference between Barnes' novel and the PBS adaptation, for me, is Sir Arthur's similarities with his created character, Sherlock Holmes, that are shown in the adaptation but lacking in the novel.
Re: Poor Things, Alasdair Gray
Alasdair Gray's Poor Things captures what might be looked at as the direct inverse of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein as it follows a version of the classic monster story that focuses instead on a reanimated woman. Though many Frankenstein-inspired stories focus on the creation of the monster, or whether the monster can be considered as such, there is one silver screen story that puts an excellent twist in the monstrous narrative.
Tim Burton's Edward Scissorhands, which debuted in 1990, reflects what the Franksteinian story might look like should a motherly figure find the monster and attempt to show him love in an unloving world. Considering Alasdair Gray's Bella turned Victoria, she was never abandoned or set loose as the original monster was. Instead, she had creators and teachers that were, perhaps, hyper-involved in her development. With Tim Burton's Edward, he also had someone who focused all of their energy into helping them grow, though the mother figure of the film was much less assertive over Edward compared to what Victoria had been through. Taking the time to explore significant influences, and insertions of self, both within Gray's novel and Burton's film might lead to interesting discoveries, both on an individual level or societal level.
Alasdair Gray's Poor Things captures what might be looked at as the direct inverse of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein as it follows a version of the classic monster story that focuses instead on a reanimated woman. Though many Frankenstein-inspired stories focus on the creation of the monster, or whether the monster can be considered as such, there is one silver screen story that puts an excellent twist in the monstrous narrative.
Tim Burton's Edward Scissorhands, which debuted in 1990, reflects what the Franksteinian story might look like should a motherly figure find the monster and attempt to show him love in an unloving world. Considering Alasdair Gray's Bella turned Victoria, she was never abandoned or set loose as the original monster was. Instead, she had creators and teachers that were, perhaps, hyper-involved in her development. With Tim Burton's Edward, he also had someone who focused all of their energy into helping them grow, though the mother figure of the film was much less assertive over Edward compared to what Victoria had been through. Taking the time to explore significant influences, and insertions of self, both within Gray's novel and Burton's film might lead to interesting discoveries, both on an individual level or societal level.
Of course, those looking for scholarship could turn to the following TEDTalk:
- "Frankenstein AI: A Future Shaped by Many", Rachel Ginsburg. Exploring the natural human anxiety of "creating something we cannot control" and human biases, Rachel Ginsburg provides a TEDTalk that elevates Alasdair Gray's novel to the next level. Ginsburg lifts the inspiration behind Gray's novel to a contemporary level for contemporary readers.
- "Frankenstein AI: A Future Shaped by Many", Rachel Ginsburg. Exploring the natural human anxiety of "creating something we cannot control" and human biases, Rachel Ginsburg provides a TEDTalk that elevates Alasdair Gray's novel to the next level. Ginsburg lifts the inspiration behind Gray's novel to a contemporary level for contemporary readers.
{Images via "Pretty Woman", Marshall 1990.}
Re: The Crimson Petal and the White, Michel Faber
Sadly, this will be the last update to this blog site. Happily, though, the film to be paired with Michael Faber's excellent novel titled The Crimson Petal and the White, is none other than... Pretty Woman, directed by Garry Marshall in 1990. Pretty Woman is so closely related to Faber's novel regarding mistresses, monogamy, gender roles, sex worker discrimination, stereotyping, and more, that it would seem Faber owes Marshall some credit. All jokes aside, the two works share important themes in common with identical scenes leading to different outcomes. In my last message, I strongly urge any readers of my blog to watch the film and at least watch the on-screen adaptation of The Crimson Petal and the White so that they might make their own connections. Though reading the novel will always be more rewarding and offer more depth to the story line, simply taking in the stories will do.
Should readers decide to watch Marshall's Pretty Woman expecting to compare it to Faber's The Crimson Petal and the White, I offer my Google Slides Presentation for assistance. This presentation lists similarities in key scenes and key themes of each work so as to highlight some of the many brilliant ways these works are connected (even down to the mistresses' hair). The links below are for readers looking to see this task through. Thank you for every visit and for every word you have read.
- "Pretty Woman", Gary Marshall. Though the film has created a divide amongst feminists, should readers wish to form their own opinion without watching the film in its entirety they could begin with this scene. Reflecting Vivian's childhood dreams of romance and Edward's emotional unavailability, this scene is the perfect kindling for a dynamic conversation regarding several layers of gender and feminism.
- Clip from The Crimson Petal and the White, the BBC Series Adaptation. Offering more insight into William's character, this scene reflects some of what could be called his "performance", as I mentioned in my blog post. My classmate, Jenya Hughes, argues that William is performing his masculinity and harshness as society demands of him. I argue that he performs everything always, including in seeking Sugar's forgiveness. Should readers of Faber be looking for topics other than Feminism, this scene is a wonderful place to start regarding expectations of what and who, and how we as a society react to them.
Sadly, this will be the last update to this blog site. Happily, though, the film to be paired with Michael Faber's excellent novel titled The Crimson Petal and the White, is none other than... Pretty Woman, directed by Garry Marshall in 1990. Pretty Woman is so closely related to Faber's novel regarding mistresses, monogamy, gender roles, sex worker discrimination, stereotyping, and more, that it would seem Faber owes Marshall some credit. All jokes aside, the two works share important themes in common with identical scenes leading to different outcomes. In my last message, I strongly urge any readers of my blog to watch the film and at least watch the on-screen adaptation of The Crimson Petal and the White so that they might make their own connections. Though reading the novel will always be more rewarding and offer more depth to the story line, simply taking in the stories will do.
Should readers decide to watch Marshall's Pretty Woman expecting to compare it to Faber's The Crimson Petal and the White, I offer my Google Slides Presentation for assistance. This presentation lists similarities in key scenes and key themes of each work so as to highlight some of the many brilliant ways these works are connected (even down to the mistresses' hair). The links below are for readers looking to see this task through. Thank you for every visit and for every word you have read.
- "Pretty Woman", Gary Marshall. Though the film has created a divide amongst feminists, should readers wish to form their own opinion without watching the film in its entirety they could begin with this scene. Reflecting Vivian's childhood dreams of romance and Edward's emotional unavailability, this scene is the perfect kindling for a dynamic conversation regarding several layers of gender and feminism.
- Clip from The Crimson Petal and the White, the BBC Series Adaptation. Offering more insight into William's character, this scene reflects some of what could be called his "performance", as I mentioned in my blog post. My classmate, Jenya Hughes, argues that William is performing his masculinity and harshness as society demands of him. I argue that he performs everything always, including in seeking Sugar's forgiveness. Should readers of Faber be looking for topics other than Feminism, this scene is a wonderful place to start regarding expectations of what and who, and how we as a society react to them.
