English

Introduction The situation of women and history's situation: gender and historicism, 1771-79 Spectacles and sentiments: disembodying women's history, 1789-1810 'Beautiful and poetic creations': Scott and the fictions of women's history From good looks to good thoughts: forgetting women's history, c. 1832-c.1876 Families and other fictions: Thackeray's The History of Henry Esmond, anti-catholicism, and the 'Birth' of domesticity Charisi's trunk and Grandcourt's estate: gender, love, and the History in Daniel Deronda, Epilogue, Bibliography, Index.

Dracula pastiches have been popular for decades, but it is only since the 1970s that authors have regularly turned to imagining romances between Dracula and Mina Harker. This article analyzes how Dracula/Mina romance plots exist at the intersection of the paranormal romance and the neo-Victorian novel, illuminating many of the unspoken conventions and assumptions of each genre. I argue that vitalized by Dracula’s attentions, Mina’s body comes to signifies a “modernity” identified loosely with an emergent liberal feminism. Her experiences emphasize erotic pleasure, romantic egalitarianism, and individual liberty in the context of her free choice of motherhood and monogamy, in sharp contradistinction to her Victorian inheritance, which insists on male control of women’s bodies. While the Dracula pastiches join with their neo-Victorian realist counterparts in making egalitarian monogamous relationships the precondition for social stability, they insist that human agency alone cannot br...

Agnes Strickland (1796-1874) was arguably the preeminent biographical historian of the Victorian period. She published actively from the early 1820s, working in genres as varied as the popular natural history, religious fiction, and historical fiction. In her shift to historical writing, Strickland demonstrated that it was possible to meld commercial success with innovative archival research, paving the way for later female professionals such as Mary-Anne Everett Green.

of content is confined to a brief Appendix A, supplemented by a further Appendix C giving the publication and subscription history of the periodical and locations of surviving issues. (Appendix B brings together some of the contemporary press responses to the periodical on its first publication.) At the same time, they will find much to interest them in Logan's work, as will readers who seek to become better informed on the broader area of women's cultural and political work and writing in colonial India.

Dracula pastiches have been popular for decades, but it is only since the 1970s that authors have regularly turned to imagining romances between Dracula and Mina Harker. This article analyzes how Dracula/Mina romance plots exist at the intersection of the paranormal romance and the neo-Victorian novel, illuminating many of the unspoken conventions and assumptions of each genre. I argue that vitalized by Dracula's attentions, Mina's body comes to signifies a "modernity" identified loosely with an emergent liberal feminism. Her experiences emphasize erotic pleasure, romantic egalitarianism, and individual liberty in the context of her free choice of motherhood and monogamy, in sharp contradistinction to her Victorian inheritance, which insists on male control of women's bodies. While the Dracula pastiches join with their neo-Victorian realist counterparts in making egalitarian monogamous relationships the precondition for social stability, they insist that human agency alone cannot bring modernity into being, suggesting that late-Victorian humanity has hit a moral and physical dead end. At the same time, these pastiches challenge the paranormal romance genre's celebration of vampiric sexuality, which they cast as initially attractive but, eventually, too self-obsessed to form the basis of either romance or, ultimately, parenthood.

Agnes Strickland (1796-1874) was arguably the preeminent biographical historian of the Victorian period. She published actively from the early 1820s, working in genres as varied as the popular natural history, religious fiction, and historical fiction. In her shift to historical writing, Strickland demonstrated that it was possible to meld commercial success with innovative archival research, paving the way for later female professionals such as Mary-Anne Everett Green.

Dracula pastiches have been popular for decades, but it is only since the 1970s that authors have regularly turned to imagining romances between Dracula and Mina Harker. This article analyzes how Dracula/Mina romance plots exist at the intersection of the paranormal romance and the neo-Victorian novel, illuminating many of the unspoken conventions and assumptions of each genre. I argue that vitalized by Dracula's attentions, Mina's body comes to signifies a "modernity" identified loosely with an emergent liberal feminism. Her experiences emphasize erotic pleasure, romantic egalitarianism, and individual liberty in the context of her free choice of motherhood and monogamy, in sharp contradistinction to her Victorian inheritance, which insists on male control of women's bodies. While the Dracula pastiches join with their neo-Victorian realist counterparts in making egalitarian monogamous relationships the precondition for social stability, they insist that human agency alone cannot bring modernity into being, suggesting that late-Victorian humanity has hit a moral and physical dead end. At the same time, these pastiches challenge the paranormal romance genre's celebration of vampiric sexuality, which they cast as initially attractive but, eventually, too self-obsessed to form the basis of either romance or, ultimately, parenthood.

A PROTESTANT CLERGYMAN exhorts a young Jewish woman to tell her father of her conversion, and reminds her of Matthew 10.37: "He that loveth father and mother more than me, is not worthy of me" (Ball 36). A Roman Catholic priest rebukes a young woman who worries that a monastic vocation would be disloyal to her mother, and reminds her too of Matthew 10.37: "I must choose between God and my mother. I could not serve both; and if I made choice of the latter, I would lose my immortal soul, and be damned, quoting the passage, 'whoever loveth father or mother more than me, is not worthy to be my disciple" (O'Gorman 12-13). The same Biblical text-yet each polemicist appropriates it for noticeably different ends. In the first case, the danger lies not in young Thirza's own rejection of her father but his rejection of her; his anti-Christian sentiments have negated in advance her own challenge to his authority. But in the second, Edith O'Gorman faces a church hierarchy that equates familial affection with demonic evil. Whereas the Jewish convert mournfully recognizes that her decision may alienate her parents, the would-be nun must actively repudiate her own family. In both of these texts-one evangelical Protestant, one a questionable woman's appeal to Protestantism in shifty self-defense-false religious belief undermines familial allegiances. This parallel should not surprise us; as both David Feldman and Frank Wallis have pointed out, most Protestant denominations represented Roman Catholicism and Judaism as structurally and temperamentally identical, a claim stretching back at least to Martin Luther (Feldman 48-71; Wallis 171-82; Edwards 358-59). Yet the significance of this parallel in Victorian fictional and theological polemic has gone almost wholly unexamined-perhaps because it seems, to early twenty-first-century eyes, decidedly bizarre. But Victorian Protestants accused both religions of substituting man-made laws for biblical truths; of elevating priestly authority above private judgment; and of forbidding the laity access to the Bible. Thus, Charlotte Elizabeth Phelan Tonna had no trouble killing two birds with one stone in Judah's Lion (1843): when one Jew denounces Roman Catholicism because "through the assumed power of what they call the church," it adds "to the word of God" in order to "bind the people's consciences to do not only what he has not commanded, but what he has forbidden," he accidentally denounces Judaism's reliance on the Talmud at the same time (302; ch. 20). Protestants, and especially evangelicals, further claimed that Judaism and Roman Catholicism were ultimately fatal to the family and its virtues. Domesticity often appears in evangelical literature as the guarantor of spiritual health, with women responsible for setting

Surveying the religious landscape of Victorian England, Protestants saw no heretics burning at the stake, no racks, no fearful imprisonments. Yet this absence of violent martyrdoms turned out to be deeply (if paradoxically) disquieting to many Victorian observers, who feared that England was mutating into the England of 1555 to 1558-the years in which Protestant heretics were burned during the reign of Mary I. The Evangelical Irish novelist Charlotte Elizabeth Tonna warned parents and children of the threat in her pedagogical dialogue Alice Benden; Or, the Bowed Shilling (1846), which retells the martyrdom of Alice Benden (betrayed by her own husband) in 1557. But why must this story be told now? Explains the dialogue's Evangelical Mamma: "The greatest danger lies in our having so entirely forgotten its [Catholicism's] real character, and being so willing to judge of it by what we see around us, not from what we know, from past history" (Tonna 1846: 68). Far from being viewed as a positive development, this disappearance of martyrdom into the confines of historical narrative seems to endanger England's national stability. Nineteenth-century Englishmen and women mistake, as it were, their comfortable encounters with contemporary Catholics for authentic knowledge, derived from the authenticated testimony of the past. Personal experience erases Catholic history, and thus the "essence" of Catholicism, from the Protestant mind. In this account, the "victory" of Protestantism trembles on the verge of self-destruction. For novelists, historians, and poets, the reign of Mary I (1553-1558) epitomized the physical and spiritual violence finally suppressed (but, Protestants feared, not eradicated) by English Protestant policy under Elizabeth's regime. In and of itself, the polemical turn to the Reformation was nothing new; seventeenth-and eighteenth-century writers drew on the Reformation, including the Marian persecutions, to work through such crises as the attempt to exclude James II from the succession or the growing popularity of Dissenting sects (Miller 67-90; Lynch 78-96). The "vivid, lurid and crude" (Wheeler 77) terms of the nineteenth-century debate about the persecutions, however, pointed to

Some of this might have to do with the question of audience. Scholars will not always be surprised by what is in this book (even if we might often be delighted by it); work on nineteenth-century literature and culture has long attended to Victorian bodies. But this may not be so in popular culture, where "Victorian" sometimes still (though perhaps less than it used to be) is code for a fearful disengagement with the body. The book, that is, is written more for a literate popular audience than for Victorianists. Despite this qualification, I massively enjoyed reading Victorians Undone, in part because it puts in the place of theory or system the valorization of stubborn particularity as idea and as method. And, in Hughes's writing, where particularity often takes the form of lists (beards are not only muttonchops but chinstraps, Newgate frills, Piccadilly weepers, and Dundrearies; a woman's tasks in the dairy are exhaustive and exhausting), the work done by particularity is smart and joyful.