"The Rifles": Putting Historical Enquiry to the Test

Studies in Travel Writing, 2016

This article argues that any attempt to conceive of a new narrative of the Postcolonial Arctic will fail, if it does not also entail a new narrative of European history. It starts out by asserting the strong afterlife of colonial narratives of the Arctic, through the example of the author's own difficulty of writing an authentic and ethically acceptable reportage about East Greenland. By drawing on further examples and by introducing narratological theory, the article moves on to consider the colonial narrative of the arctic. It is asserted that the prototypical colonial narrative of the Arctic may be modelled on Moby Dick: a hunting and whaling story, in which the setting is made up landscape, wildlife, and indigenous populations. The colonial narrative is gradually transformed as the indigenous peoples of the Arctic leaves the setting and becomes agents in the narrative. Indeed, it is only when the indigenous attains the place of the subject telling the story that we can seriously claim to have a postcolonial narrative of the Arctic. The article then briefly analyses two instances of such transformations of the colonial narrative: the works of Danish-Greenlandic visual artist and artistic researcher Pia Arke, and of the Sami visual artist Katarina Pirka Sikku. Both question the narrating subject in travel literature and scientific discourse about the Arctic. They reclaim that position for themselves, which results in narrative and visual performances of a immense interest.

Studies in Travel Writing, 2016

Left History, 1999

Listen to the AI-generated podcast based on Ewa's reflection of the shared perspectives between Hayden White and Vine Deloria Jr: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1xF-R0FURkV_vcfP_ZLzRu9fnt7Xo7n3C/view?usp=drive_link This article is a collaborative commentary on the first volume of a two-part anthology of works by Hayden White, The Ethics of Narrative, edited by Robert Doran. Informed by the collection and inspired by the co-authors, in this paper we discuss White's writing. Herman Paul compares White's constructivism with that of Berger and Luckmann, and discusses the extent to which the tools of historical narrative criticism developed by White are expeditious in analyzing stories about the climate crisis. Kalle Pihlainen captures White's writing in a three-stage process of emancipatory politics of history, to further reconfigure it using the concept of fidelity. Jakub Muchowski writes about the relationship between the titular ethics and politics, asking to what extent White regarded them as separate spheres of practice, and whether in choosing the former White was apolitical. Ewa Domańska considers how White's critical approach to history might help to explore possibilities of bridging Indigenous and Western approaches to the past as well as reflects on White's attitude toward metaphysics. Finally, Miguel Valderrama considers the ways in which White uses the concept of event. The exchange closes with Robert Doran's response to all the commentaries.

In my Masters thesis of 2011 I compare two works of captivity literature that emerged from the detention of Lincolnshire ship's blacksmith John R. Jewitt by the Nuu-Chah-Nulth First Nation of Vancouver Island for two years in the early 19th Century, after a standard fur trading visit devolved into diplomatic disaster and the slaughter of nearly all hands. The first text is the 1807 'Diary,' a brief work consisting of short, dated entries. The second is the 1815 'Narrative,' a more elaborate and largely falsified reworking by Connecticut ghostwriter Richard Alsop. In chapters 1 and 2 I consider each text in its generic context, arguing that Jewitt, in his diary, drew on the triumphalist imperialism of eighteenth-century literature of exploration to rewrite his calamity as enduring achievement; while Alsop, an American by birth and familiar with the long tradition of 'Indian captivity narratives' for which the American public showed a voracious interest, reworked the story to conform to the expectations of 'captivity narrative' readers. Chapter three focuses in on a series of moments of heightened sentiment in Alsop’s Narrative which place the text’s representational apparatus under strain, thus opening up for critique aspects of the text’s usually naturalised, and thus occluded, discursive work. The incidents under examination are compared against their representation in Jewitt’s Journal, revealing in that text also troubling incommensurabilities in the construction of the European protagonist and the foreign Others among whom he is forced to make his home. In chapter four I consider the ways in which the conflicting desires and motivations of Jewitt and his captor-hosts register as a struggle for status, both in the historical context of Jewitt’s actual captivity, and in the literary representations this historical event engendered. I submitted this thesis in partial fulfilment of the requirements of an M.A. Research in the Department of English, University of Sydney, 2011.

Renaissance Quarterly, 2020

Rethinking History, 2016

The relationship between history and fiction has long been recognised as close but problematic and there are few places in which the problematics of this relationship manifest more clearly than in the case of the historical novel. Concerned with the borderland space in which history meets fiction, this reading of the historical novel is accompanied by the reading of another borderline case, that of popular narrative history, in the expectation that the proximity of these two modes of writing will allow insight into the workings of both. Drawing on Gérard Genette’s Paratexts (1997), my interpretation of the relation between history and historical fiction turns on notions of hospitality, connecting Genette’s work with that of Jacques Derrida in order to outline a model of generic intersection in which historical fiction appears as the malign guest of historiography, for whom the hospitality of historical writing necessarily entails hostility at the threshold. More precisely, I will argue that it is this hostility (hostipitality) that guarantees the integrity of the threshold dividing history and fiction while at the same time calling into question the assumptions underlying the status of fiction as guest and history as host.

1996

The use of imaginative literature as a source of philosophical inquiry into the nature of social order, oppression or conflict, as weIl as the role of violence and nonviolence in personal and political action, has been largely neglected by the field of peace studies. Similarly, literary criticism has failed to confront the se issues. While war literature has been used, primarily , as a source of insight into the war experience, peace-studies literary critics, such as Michael True, Gregory Mason and John Getz have sought to identify a literary canon which embodies and inspires the values of peace or the principles of nonviolence. In an attempt to open new critical territory for both the field of peace studies and literary criticism, this thesis investigates the relationship between twentieth-century violence/nonviolence and fiction/literary theory. Based upon a historical and theoretical framework concerned with events such as the Holocaust and the American civil rights movement, as weIl as the philosophical and social issues which arose from these events, Martin Amis ' s Time's Arrow (1991), Timothy Findley's Not Wanted on the Voyage (1984) and Alice Walker's Meridian (1976) are analysed from a "postwar" perspective. The "postwar", as 1 conceive of it, refers not to a historical period but to the act, in practical and symbolic terms, of undermining oppressive and violent relations of power. It does not connote an ideal, just and violence-free society, but the process of moving away from warfare and violence to an undetermined end. In each novel , the authors draw upon established, cuiturally significant stories to "twist around" history to confront the reader, in the present, with the "meaning" of the se (hi)stories. These three novels receive critical attention which confronts such issues as violence, nonviolence, resistance to oppression, and the relationship between means and ends. iii 1 would also like to express my appreciation to Graeme MacQueen, Michael True, John Getz and Lorraine York for their time and encouragement. Thanks also to Erin and Becky for their constructive criticism. ÎV

"As то GHOSTS OR SPIRITS," wrote Mrs. Traill in The Backwoods of Canada, "they appear totally banished from Canada. This is too matterof-fact country for such supernaturals to visit. Here there are no historical associations, no legendary tales of those that came before us. Fancy would starve for lack of marvellous food to keep her alive in the backwoods." From our own vantage point in time, such a dearth no longer confronts us. The work of anthropological investigators like Marius Barbeau has familiarized us with the stories and traditions of our native peoples ; and folklorists like Helen Creighton, Edith Fowke and Germain Lemieux have recorded an impressive variety of songs, tales and superstitions handed down by generations of French and English Canadians. We have our heroes and villains, our myths and monsters ; and every region of Canada can boast its legendary, literary or historical associations. Sadly, to most of us the cultural and political history of our country still remains a blur, and we are more familiar with the legendary exploits of other nations' heroes than with those of our own. This is less true, perhaps, in Quebec, where the homogeneity of a society long closed in on itself has facilitated the survival and encouragement of cultural traditions. English Canada, by contrast, too often seems impervious to its past, eager to establish an unmistakably modern identity. So books like Pierre Berton's The Wild Frontier ( McClelland & Stewart ), unsatisfactory as they must seem to a professional historian, have a value beyond their obvious popular appeal : they put us in touch with our past, and bring before us the men and women who, through their ambition, or greed, or love of adventure, opened up this country and laid the foundation of our society. Berton focusses on individuals whose lives were filled with action : men like Wilfred Grenfell, "the perfect schoolboy hero"; Sam Steele, the Mountie who commanded the force's H.J.R. available at the bookstore UNIVERSITY OF BRITISH COLUMBIA 2075 WESBROOK PLACE VANCOUVER, B.C. V6T 1W5 / 228-4741 David Jackel G IEORGE MONRO GRANT'S Ocean to Ocean has often been described as a classic Canadian travel book, and rightly so. Few other works of its kind retain their appeal three generations after publication, when the novelty of the experiences described has long dissipated and the writer himself has long ceased to be a figure in the popular mind. Grant still speaks to us, more than a hundred years after his journey, and his book would, I think, stand comparison with such non-Canadian classics of the genre as Defoe's Tour through the Whole Island of Great Britain and Boswell's Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides. Such a comparison is not, however, my purpose here. Although Grant's Ocean to Ocean is, indeed, a masterful travel narrative, it is also much more than that, and just how much more does not seem to have been recognized. In the revised Literary History of Canada R. G. Moyles does make brief reference to Grant's "narrative stances" and proposes that we view the book as a "combination of adventurestory and mythic chronicle." 1 These comments are suggestive, but they do not go nearly far enough to explain either the significance of Grant's ideas or his artistry in expressing them. The word artistry I choose deliberately, because a literary analysis of Ocean to Ocean reveals that Grant has, notwithstanding his disclaimers, done more than simply forward to the printer the notes hastily taken during his transcontinental journey. A close reading of the book, with particular attention to its narrative method, its structure, and its recurring themes, shows that its author was no mere diarist but rather a prose writer of some considerable talent who has produced an important document in Canadian cultural history. Ocean to Ocean gives us a vision of social and political relationships akin to that afforded by the major Victorian novelists, an expression of the aspirations and ideals of an influential segment of nineteenth-century Canada. What we see in Grant's work is not so much a vision of the west as it was in 1872 but of the west as Canada of the post-Confederation period wanted it to be. It is the intensity of this vision, and the moral basis on which it rested, which give Ocean to Ocean a significance not

2016

This article suggests that narrative studies would benefit from (hermeneutically informed) philosophical reflection on the basic assumptions underlying different conceptions of narrative, a sense of history in conceptualizing narrative and experience, and nuanced reflection on the significance of narrative for agency and our sense of the possible. It argues for conceptualizing narrative as an interpretative, dialogical, and performative activity of cultural sense-making that is integral to how we understand our past, present, and future possibilities. It proposes three ways in which acknowledging the historicity of experience allows us to explore how narratives shape historical imagination. Arguing for approaching literary narratives as explorations of human possibilities, the article ends by showing, through an analysis of Michel Houellebecq’s Submission (2015), how narrative fiction can contribute to our sense of the possible and to our understanding of narrative agency.

Public History Review, 2022

Joanna Grochowicz ( JG): As a writer of narrative non-fiction, my desire is to employ the narrative form to portray historical figures and events. I draw heavily on archival material -diaries, letters, drawings and photos, official journals, first-hand accounts, and speeches, as well as secondary sources such as published histories, the work of polar scholars and researchers. Dates, events, 'characters', and locations, the immutable facts as recorded in official narratives can 'take care of themselves'; where my work departs markedly from non-fiction (and perhaps this is where I am likely to attract the greatest scrutiny) is in my reimagining of dialogue. This is where writers and historians often part ways because a certain amount of invention must take place. However, given the sources I draw on, I feel confident that my version of particular episodes and historical characters is as close to the 'truth' as is possible. I'm not so much a filler-in of blanks as an arranger of known facts. If there is no evidence to support a detail, I will not include that detail in my work. By and large private diaries provide a level of candour and honesty. Thoughts are expressed in a more direct, uncensored fashion than they would be in an official expedition narrative or correspondence, and reflections contained within their pages can offer a solid basis for an imagined inner monologue. Sometimes it is possible to find two people writing about the same episode from different points of view. When materials allow me to 'triangulate' -that is, pinpoint a discussion more accurately from multiple known points -then I feel as if I've hit the jackpot. For me, this is as close to achieving verisimilitude as I can come as an author. This makes for a very labour-intensive research phase. I feel the need for my work to carry historical validity, partly to adhere to my own code of conduct, partly to ensure my readers' historical understanding is not contaminated, and partly because I feel a responsibility towards the individuals depicted in my work (and their descendants) to avoid misrepresentations. Cristina Sanders (CS): In his 1982 review in the New York Times, Paul Zweig comments that Thomas Keneally's brilliant Schindler's List 'reads like a novel… its scenes are so vivid they appear to result from a kind of ventriloquism'. 2 This is a lovely description of hitting the right balance between fact and fiction. Keneally himself, in an interview with reviewer Sue Lawson, admits that in his 2020 novel The Dicken's Boy he messes about with the details of his real characters, adding scenes to fit the plot. When challenged by a critic that he stretched facts, he replied, 'Well that is the truth… where the facts are missing, I wasn't slow to supply them '. 3

Miscelánea: A Journal of English and American Studies, 2021

This article explores the implications of Lauren Berlant's essay "Trauma and Ineloquence" (2001) regarding the therapeutic effects of narrative, also addressing the critical work of other theorists that have tackled the question of the artificiality of personal and historical narratives. By connecting Berlant's insights into the notion of intelligibility with those of Roland Barthes, of testimony theorists and of other critics on ineloquence, my analysis aims to throw light on two historical novels that are articulated through intimate events that prevent certain speakers (Berlant's negated subjects) from producing testimony and, therefore, participating in mainstream narratives and accessing justice. The novels River Thieves (2001) by Michael Crummey and The Big Why (2004) by Michael Winter hold the past as a scandal where carnal entanglements degrade the epic sweep of the events and show the disruptive effects of non-normative knowledges. Intimacy, thus defined as a lawless and shameful element in society, intersects with the economic and sexual pressures imported into the colonies by the empire (Povinelli 2006; Stoler 2006a). In this context, Newfoundland, in Canada, represents a colony where the ethics of European and American civilization are called into question.

2017

23 Christina Adcock points to other explorers' doubts about Stefansson's explorative method in Adcock 2010: 86. 24 Amundsen's criticism was first published in English as an article titled "Arctic Follies and how Careful Planning Eliminates Them" in The World's Work 54 (Sept. 1927). 39 Blanton's examples include works by the travel writers Graham Greene, V.S. Naipaul and Bruce Chatwin (Blanton 2002: Chapters 4, 6 and 7). 40 As indirectly suggested in the previous chapter, such models are often based on the works of discourse analysists and postcolonial theorists. For a general overview of travel writing theory, see e.g. Campbell 2002. The Formal Method in Literary Scholarship [1928]), which were published under the names of V. N. Voloshinov and P. N. Medvedev. I do not go into this query here, however. 50 This essay was written in 1937-38; however, it was not published until 1974 in the literary journal Voprosy Literatury (Problems of Literature). The previous year Bakhtin had added the "Concluding Remarks" to his essay, and here his theory of the chronotope had been further developed.