Thesis (M.A.)--Florida State University, 2003. / Advisor: Dr. Dennis Moore, Florida State University, College of Arts and Sciences, Dept. of English. Title and description from dissertation home page (viewed Mar. 4, 2004). Includes bibliographical references.

Thesis (Ph.D.)--York University, 2004. Graduate Programme in History. / Typescript. Includes bibliographical references (leaves [386]-425). Also available on the Internet. MODE OF ACCESS via web browser by entering the following URL: http://wwwlib.umi.com/cr/yorku/fullcit?pNQ99176

Thesis (M.A.)--Eastern Illinois University, 2008. / Includes bibliographical references (leaves 57-62).

This study seeks to understand the development of early American ideas of race, religion, and gender as reflected in Indian and Barbary captivity narratives (tales of individuals taken captive by privateers in North Africa) and in plays that take American captives as their subject. Writers of both Indian and Barbary captivity narratives used racial and religious language – references to Indians and North Africans as demonic, physically monstrous, and animal – simultaneously to delineate Native American and North African otherness. The narrative writers reserved particular scorn for the figure of the Renegade – the willful cultural convert who chose to live among the Native Americans or adopt Islam and live among his North African captors. The narratives, too, reflect Early American gendered norms by defining the role of men as heads of household and women’s protectors, and by defining women by their status as dutiful wives and mothers. Furthermore, the narratives carefully treat the figure of the female captive with particular care – resisting implications of captive rape, even while describing graphic scenes of physical torture, and denying the possibility of willful transcultural sexual relationships.

Thesis (Ph.D.)--University of Delaware, 2007. / Principal faculty advisor: Peter R. Kolchin, Dept. of History. Includes bibliographical references.

Indiana University-Purdue University Indianapolis (IUPUI) / Historic monuments and markers can be found across the United States. There are always different motivations involving why they were placed and who or what is being acknowledged. Markers and memorials remembering a white woman named Frances Slocum recognize that she was taken by Delaware Indians in 1778 and eventually married a Miami chief before dying in Indiana in 1847. What the markers and memorials fail to show is the life of Maconaquah, a Miami woman that was adopted by a Delaware family after being taken in Pennsylvania. Since being located by her white family, Maconaquah’s story has been retold, celebrated, and remembered as the story of Frances Slocum, a lost but now found sister. The memorialization of Frances Slocum and erasure of Maconaquah began with the captivity narratives that told the story of Slocum from the perspective of her being lost and then found by her white relatives. Native captivity narratives began when the increased colonization of the North American continent led to conflict and violence between the white colonists and Indigenous tribes; popular narratives began as early as 1624 with Captain John Smith’s Generall Historie. When captives shared their stories, it was a way to share information about the different cultures they had encountered, as well as created a division of white colonial cultural and Indigenous cultures. Narratives like the ones written about Maconaquah focus on her white identity and family and firmly emphasize any difference in dress, home, or demeanor. Maconaquah is not recognized so much for the life she created among the Miami as she is mourned for the life she could have had with her white family. This dismissal of her Indigenous identity continued onto her monuments and markers that refused to acknowledge her name or her legacy. To properly remember Maconaquah’s life and legacy, any potential monument or marker will need to disrupt the narrative previously presented in favor of centering her Miami identity.

Thesis (M.A.)--Youngstown State University, 2000. / Includes bibliographical references (leaves 109-125).

Thesis (Ph. D.)--Georgia State University, 2007. / Thomas L. McHaney, committee chair; Audrey Goodman, Pearl A. McHaney, committee members. Electronic text (247 p.) : digital, PDF file. Title from file title page. Description based on contents viewed Mar. 27, 2008. Includes bibliographical references (p. 233-247).

The Captive Press argues that nineteenth-century Indian captivity narratives escaped from the expectations of the American literary marketplace through manipulations of the material text. With modern methods of production, promotion, and dissemination, captivity narratives dominated the reading public even as Native peoples were forced to submit to governmental encroachments. This study focuses on narratives produced by and about Anglo-American women whose impoverished return from captivity motivated them to write for their livelihood. The narratives of Rachel Parker Plummer, Sarah Larimer, Fanny Kelly, and Abbie Gardner-Sharp were designed to appeal to local readers who were likely to become financial sponsors through direct marketing. Later editions added para-textual material, developed textual content, and introduced illustrations such as wood engravings or photographs to increase marketability for broader audiences. By publishing captivity narratives on state presses and distributing them through regional print networks, nineteenth-century producers maintained the homegrown flavor of the genre while expanding readership beyond local boundaries. This dissertation demonstrates how, with the assistance of editors, illustrators, and publishers, these entrepreneurial women reversed their subject position to hold the popular press captive.

[First paragraph of Preface] I set out to write an essay three years ago that started with the line “I always find God in the bathroom—don’t ask me why,” which is entirely true and says so much while explaining so little. Within a page and a half I briefly introduced a scene, a memory,where I had sequestered myself in a toilet stall in the bathroom on my sorority’s dorm floor at Eastern Kentucky University. I mentioned the scenario—I was hiding from a serial rapist who, for some reason, decided I’d be a good target—in just a few paragraphs and moved on as if it had the paltry significance of last week’s soggy newspaper lying under the dog bowl. After all, I only wrote it because it was a required exercise in my first graduate writing class; I was going to write my thesis in fiction.