Comprised of four separate case studies – one on the Eastern novels of Penelope Aubin and Eliza Haywood written in the 1720’s, one on Lady Mary Wortley Montagu’s Turkish Embassy Letters, one that features female castaway narratives of the later eighteenth century, and a fourth on Isabel Burton’s public mediation of her husband’s writing and the transgressions of her own life – this work argues that discursive constructions of female travel were frequently challenged by women writers and female travelers themselves. Engaging with critics like Amanda Vickery, Robert Shoemaker, and Alison Conway, who wish to call our totalizing, homogenous views of the restrictions placed on women’s lives in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries into question, this dissertation argues that despite the prevalence of works arguing against female travel because it was either too dangerous or too sexually liberating, many women conceived of themselves as not only able to travel but to do so while remaining loyal to British notions of civility and cultural purity. At the same time, the texts studied here demonstrate that, once freed from the restrictive confines of British society, English women were able to make important contributions to Britain’s imperial and mercantile goals overseas that men were unable to make. In this work I examine the ways in which domestic and sexual violence at home prompted the construction of travel as an escape to a fantasy of easy female circulation in less-restrictive public spaces where women could manage their own fates, or indeed spaces in which they were free from the seemingly constant fear of sexual assault at the hands of European men. Travel – in the case of Lady Mary Wortley Montagu and Isabel Burton – offered women an opportunity to transform notions of femininity into ways of making particular and unique claims to knowledge because they had access to information male travelers could not gain. Rather than descending into lust or various forms of cultural degeneration, traveling women in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries opened up a space for women after them to make significant contributions to scientific and ethnographic discourse. The work on fictional female captives and castaways in the first and third chapters of this dissertation indicates that the supposedly corrupting qualities of the “torrid zones” were ones easily fended off by English women, who were thus able to demonstrate that female interactions with so-called ‘male’ spheres of mercantile exchange, seafaring, and captivity abroad could result in greater freedom for women to travel. These texts also highlight the important contributions women could make to public life in England as a result of the knowledge gained during their periods overseas. In every chapter, this work examines the way that violence against women – and the powerlessness of women to counteract it – was a seemingly constant concern during the period Finally, my conclusion gestures toward the possible continuities between ideas about female travel in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries and the twenty-first century. Though much more work is required, I conclude that, from the very brief research I have conducted on the subject, it appears that the inroads made by Aubin, Haywood, Montagu, Burton and others have largely been destroyed by a continual concern with the safety and sexual propriety of the Western woman overseas.

My research explores how the oft-maligned zombie genre reveals deep-seated American cultural tendencies drawn from the nation's history with colonization and imperialism. The zombie genre is a quintessentially American construct that has been flourishing in popular culture for nearly 60 years. Since George A. Romero first pioneered the genre with 1968's Night of the Living Dead, zombie narratives have demonstrated a persistent resilience in American culture to emerge as the ultimate American horror icon. First serving as a method to exploit and react to cultural anxieties in the 1960s, the zombie genre met the decade's tumultuous violence in international conflicts like the Vietnam War and domestic revolutions like the Civil Rights Movement. It adapted in the 1970s to expose a perceived excess in consumer culture before reflecting apocalyptic fears at the height of the Cold War in the 1980s. Following a period of rest in the relatively peaceful 1990s, the genre re-emerged in the early 2000s to reflect cultural anxieties spurred on by the attacks on the World Trade Center in New York and the subsequent resurgence of war those attacks inspired. Its ability to grow with American culture and reflect the relevant crises of the age in which each narrative is conceived suggests the genre can act as a barometer of cultural and social change and unrest. The zombie genre is ultimately an American construct as it is the only folkloric monster born of an American imagination. Romero's re-envisioning of the genre to an apocalyptic siege narrative rather than an icon of Haitian lore presented American audiences with a perfect outlet to embrace survivalist fantasies that hearken back to the nations birth on the frontier. It can be aligned alongside the plight of early settlers, as its characters find themselves displaced between a lost concept of society and the need to rebuild in a new, hostile environment. An environment which allows the return of iconic frontier figures like Daniel Boone, while redefining the role of the family to suit the needs of such an environment. It provides scenarios in which the nation can be regenerated through violence as the emergence of an antagonistic foe devoid of morality and consciousness must be met with extreme prejudice. It strips the antagonist of personality and thought, allowing audiences to return to an imperialistic conquest of a conquerable foe while eliminating any guilt associated with the act of colonization. In doing so, the genre glorifies the American past, allowing the reopening of the frontier in the zombie apocalypse as a method of escaping current cultural anxieties and romanticising concepts like the Indian hunter while stripping them of negative association. This thesis will suggest that the zombie has emerged as the ultimate American horror icon, and that it will continue to remain as such so long as there are instances of tumult and instability in the American cultural zeitgeist to which it can react.

This thesis is a literary analysis of American settlement fiction, using a spatially-informed cultural historicist approach. The settlement movement in the U.S. was both a Progressive Era reform movement and a precursor to modern-day social welfare systems. As such, it has typically been viewed in either laudatory or censorious terms –- as an innovative force for social good, or as a negative source of social control. Drawing on Edward Soja’s concept of Thirdspace as a uniquely generative and semiotically rich cultural site, and focusing on Hull House as an example of Thirdspace, I argue that the settlement movement was in fact an extraordinarily multivalent phenomenon. Hull House (and the many settlement houses modeled after it) instantiated issues of gender, class, and race in complex ways that both reflected and refracted larger patterns in American culture. Moreover, these same patterns are evident in fiction that incorporates the spaces of the settlement house and the figure of the settlement worker. Contextualized readings of five novels (Elia Wilkinson Peattie’s The Precipice, Clara Laughlin’s Just Folks, Hervey White’s Differences, Sherwood Anderson’s Marching Men, and W.E.B. Du Bois’ The Quest of the Silver Fleece) provide evidence of the value of further recovering this dramatically understudied area of settlement discourse.

My research explores how the oft-maligned zombie genre reveals deep-seated American cultural tendencies drawn from the nation's history with colonization and imperialism. The zombie genre is a quintessentially American construct that has been flourishing in popular culture for nearly 60 years. Since George A. Romero first pioneered the genre with 1968's Night of the Living Dead, zombie narratives have demonstrated a persistent resilience in American culture to emerge as the ultimate American horror icon. First serving as a method to exploit and react to cultural anxieties in the 1960s, the zombie genre met the decade's tumultuous violence in international conflicts like the Vietnam War and domestic revolutions like the Civil Rights Movement. It adapted in the 1970s to expose a perceived excess in consumer culture before reflecting apocalyptic fears at the height of the Cold War in the 1980s. Following a period of rest in the relatively peaceful 1990s, the genre re-emerged in the early 2000s to reflect cultural anxieties spurred on by the attacks on the World Trade Center in New York and the subsequent resurgence of war those attacks inspired. Its ability to grow with American culture and reflect the relevant crises of the age in which each narrative is conceived suggests the genre can act as a barometer of cultural and social change and unrest. The zombie genre is ultimately an American construct as it is the only folkloric monster born of an American imagination. Romero's re-envisioning of the genre to an apocalyptic siege narrative rather than an icon of Haitian lore presented American audiences with a perfect outlet to embrace survivalist fantasies that hearken back to the nations birth on the frontier. It can be aligned alongside the plight of early settlers, as its characters find themselves displaced between a lost concept of society and the need to rebuild in a new, hostile environment. An environment which allows the return of iconic frontier figures like Daniel Boone, while redefining the role of the family to suit the needs of such an environment. It provides scenarios in which the nation can be regenerated through violence as the emergence of an antagonistic foe devoid of morality and consciousness must be met with extreme prejudice. It strips the antagonist of personality and thought, allowing audiences to return to an imperialistic conquest of a conquerable foe while eliminating any guilt associated with the act of colonization. In doing so, the genre glorifies the American past, allowing the reopening of the frontier in the zombie apocalypse as a method of escaping current cultural anxieties and romanticising concepts like the Indian hunter while stripping them of negative association. This thesis will suggest that the zombie has emerged as the ultimate American horror icon, and that it will continue to remain as such so long as there are instances of tumult and instability in the American cultural zeitgeist to which it can react.

This thesis is a literary analysis of American settlement fiction, using a spatially-informed cultural historicist approach. The settlement movement in the U.S. was both a Progressive Era reform movement and a precursor to modern-day social welfare systems. As such, it has typically been viewed in either laudatory or censorious terms –- as an innovative force for social good, or as a negative source of social control. Drawing on Edward Soja’s concept of Thirdspace as a uniquely generative and semiotically rich cultural site, and focusing on Hull House as an example of Thirdspace, I argue that the settlement movement was in fact an extraordinarily multivalent phenomenon. Hull House (and the many settlement houses modeled after it) instantiated issues of gender, class, and race in complex ways that both reflected and refracted larger patterns in American culture. Moreover, these same patterns are evident in fiction that incorporates the spaces of the settlement house and the figure of the settlement worker. Contextualized readings of five novels (Elia Wilkinson Peattie’s The Precipice, Clara Laughlin’s Just Folks, Hervey White’s Differences, Sherwood Anderson’s Marching Men, and W.E.B. Du Bois’ The Quest of the Silver Fleece) provide evidence of the value of further recovering this dramatically understudied area of settlement discourse.

Comprised of four separate case studies – one on the Eastern novels of Penelope Aubin and Eliza Haywood written in the 1720’s, one on Lady Mary Wortley Montagu’s Turkish Embassy Letters, one that features female castaway narratives of the later eighteenth century, and a fourth on Isabel Burton’s public mediation of her husband’s writing and the transgressions of her own life – this work argues that discursive constructions of female travel were frequently challenged by women writers and female travelers themselves. Engaging with critics like Amanda Vickery, Robert Shoemaker, and Alison Conway, who wish to call our totalizing, homogenous views of the restrictions placed on women’s lives in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries into question, this dissertation argues that despite the prevalence of works arguing against female travel because it was either too dangerous or too sexually liberating, many women conceived of themselves as not only able to travel but to do so while remaining loyal to British notions of civility and cultural purity. At the same time, the texts studied here demonstrate that, once freed from the restrictive confines of British society, English women were able to make important contributions to Britain’s imperial and mercantile goals overseas that men were unable to make. In this work I examine the ways in which domestic and sexual violence at home prompted the construction of travel as an escape to a fantasy of easy female circulation in less-restrictive public spaces where women could manage their own fates, or indeed spaces in which they were free from the seemingly constant fear of sexual assault at the hands of European men. Travel – in the case of Lady Mary Wortley Montagu and Isabel Burton – offered women an opportunity to transform notions of femininity into ways of making particular and unique claims to knowledge because they had access to information male travelers could not gain. Rather than descending into lust or various forms of cultural degeneration, traveling women in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries opened up a space for women after them to make significant contributions to scientific and ethnographic discourse. The work on fictional female captives and castaways in the first and third chapters of this dissertation indicates that the supposedly corrupting qualities of the “torrid zones” were ones easily fended off by English women, who were thus able to demonstrate that female interactions with so-called ‘male’ spheres of mercantile exchange, seafaring, and captivity abroad could result in greater freedom for women to travel. These texts also highlight the important contributions women could make to public life in England as a result of the knowledge gained during their periods overseas. In every chapter, this work examines the way that violence against women – and the powerlessness of women to counteract it – was a seemingly constant concern during the period Finally, my conclusion gestures toward the possible continuities between ideas about female travel in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries and the twenty-first century. Though much more work is required, I conclude that, from the very brief research I have conducted on the subject, it appears that the inroads made by Aubin, Haywood, Montagu, Burton and others have largely been destroyed by a continual concern with the safety and sexual propriety of the Western woman overseas.

Bibliography: leaves 53. / In the Introduction of this minor dissertation, Margaret Atwood as a post-modern writer and her interest in fictional autobiographies are considered, particularly with regard to memory, the formation of self-identity and amnesia. Parallels are drawn between Surfacing and Cat's Eye as fictional works. and Alias Grace, which is based on the life of a historical person. The novel Alias Grace alternates between first- and third-person accounts, and reflects Atwood's preoccupation with narrative techniques. The definition of post-modernism is regarded, as well as Atwood's own acknowledgements in her ""Author's Afterword"" on how she proceeds to write this fictional autobiography. Her focus on mental illnesses is given perspective in a brief discussion on different sorts of memory loss. These manifestations affect the concept of truth, which is explored in the first section of the dissertation. This section draws on the unreliability of Grace's first-person accounts and the question of whether she is fabricating the truth or has simply forgotten crucial moments of her past. The reader is also constantly made aware that Grace attempts to ensure better conditions for herself in the penitentiary, and she will therefore not disclose any information that might be damaging to her character. That which she discloses partly depends on her relationship in terms of trust with Doctor Jordan. A few episodes where Grace loses consciousness are reviewed, as well as instances where she exposes her literary background and her ability to change words or ideas in texts that she has read. It is concluded at the end of the first section that the truth eludes the reader. With this in mind, it is examined in the second section that the issue of truth is complicated, and even undermined, by the gender and class inequity of the patriarchal society in which Grace, Mary and Nancy are instrumentalised and exploited. The relationship between Grace and Mary is explored in order to demonstrate the happy memories that are relevant in Grace's present, where her past remains illusive. The reader is also drawn into these cheerful experiences, and takes Mary's presence for granted until the neuro-hypnotic seance, during which Grace's double consciousness is revealed. Her 'friend' Mary is exposed as a facet of Grace's own personality. Class oppression is explored further through the characters of Nancy and Mrs Humphrey, who are trapped in a vicious circle that Grace escapes by engaging in the creative activity of quilt-making. In this way she is able to express her solidarity with Mary and Nancy as victims of patriarchal injustice. In the Conclusion an overview of the question of truth is given and it is demonstrated how truth is inseparable from the issues of class and gender relations. The lack of traditional closure in Alias Grace is explored briefly. Grace's camaraderie and solidarity with her two friends, as well as her retelling of the Biblical account of the Garden of Eden through her tapestry work, is shown to be a transgressive agency that marks the greater significance of the novel.

Decolonisation flooded through Africa after WW2, spearheaded by national liberation movements, apparently. In most cases, this did not lead to national sovereignty or independence, and did not alleviate poverty. Decolonisation eventually led to inequality, economic stagnation, and new, subtle forms of outside control. Fanon's incomplete work shows contradictions in national liberation (and the parties which represent it). Using Fanon's work, I criticise nationalism, the expected role of the national bourgeoisie, racism and consumerism, and reified conceptions of politics, democracy, corruption and socialism. Each of these reified conceptions, common to decolonial movements, is presented by the national liberation movements as the overcoming of problems of Western modernity. In fact, I show that these conceptions are all new forms of the problems they claim to overcome. I supplement Fanon's work with ideas and arguments from Marxism and psychoanalysis, as well as many interesting examples from decolonisation. These show how Fanon's predictions were frequently correct, though he lived to see few of them. I use Fanon's writing to show some of the ideologies underlying the worldview of national liberation. Those ideological motifs that are continually present include Freudian illusion, reification (I show how countries, leaders, people etc. are erroneously represented as independent of each other), false identification (particularly the representation of a whole thing by its parts or its symbols, including operationalism), interpellation of individuals as subjects, and images and symbols that manipulate the unconscious. These lead to false interpretations of decolonisation, and individuals celebrating their own domination. Fanon understands decolonisation as not an end to colonisation but a continuation of imperialism; we will read it thus, not as a break from the past but a continuation of its problems.

This thesis is a critical inquiry into the nature of the postcolonial African city as represented in fiction. It examines how the Nigerian novel represents the postcolonial African city and the extent to which it confirms or contests the dominant paradigms of scholarship in urban studies. In it, perspectives from urban studies are brought into conversation with literary representations of the postcolonial African city in contemporary Nigerian fiction thereby creating a nuanced synthesis of postcolonial literary studies and urban scholarship. Its provocative argument is that the postcolonial African city is both functional and legible despite its arguably squalid state and the undesirable living conditions of its subjects. Approaches that denigrate so-called Third World cities as particularly dystopic and illegible do not present the whole picture and are therefore one-sided and misleading. The Nigerian novel, it argues, reflects the need for rethinking of the dominant templates of urban studies to take into consideration the particularities and complexities of postcolonial cities. The thesis examines representations of the postcolonial city in four recent Nigerian novels: Ben Okri's The Famished Road (1991), Okey Ndibe's Arrows of Rain (2000), Chris Abani's GraceLand (2004), and Sefi Ata's Everything Good Will Come (2006). The selected novels' analyses foreground the argument that there is no universal template for theorizing the city; hence, there is a legitimate basis for talking about the postcolonial city both in conception and fictional representation. The thesis begins with an introduction which encompasses the aim, focal question, rationale, design/structure and the definition of key terms. This is followed by Chapter One which gives an insight into the state of the research field. The chapter reviews relevant scholarship with a view to situating modernity and the postcolonial city in Africa. In Chapters Two, Three, Four and Five, the primary texts, under various subtitles, are analyzed. The novels' representation(s) of the postcolonial (African) city, from different perspectives – like the problematic of legibility and spatial morphology, infrastructure, agency, urban governmentality, etc. – are critically examined. Chapter Six examines the place of bars and gender in determining the metro poetics of the postcolonial African city and how they are depicted in the selected novels. This is followed by the Conclusion, which summarizes the thesis by restating and highlighting its major argument and the ways in which it is elaborated upon in the fictional texts analyzed in the various chapters.

Includes bibliographical references (leaves 62-63). / Since the famous 9/11 terrorist attacks in America, the American government has increased their military presence across the world, most notably by occupying Iraq and Afghanistan. This they have done under the banner of spreading liberal democracy to oppressed peoples in far off places, arguing that their actions represent asense of moral clarity and are necessary if the world is going to be safe from evil. This paper argues that the term liberal democracy and all the ideological rhetoric of freedom that is employed give the Americans a moral high ground from which they seek to excuse and legitimise their actions. This thesis shows how the framework of spreading liberal democracy has been and is being used in order to legitimise actions which appear to be contradictory to the professed goals of spreading liberty and equality, to oppressed people.