This dissertation on “Climate Change, the Ruined Island, and British Metamodernism” proceeds from the premise that a perspectival shift occurred in the early 2000s that altered the tenor of British climate fiction published in the decade that followed. The release of a third Assessment Report by the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC), less than a month after the 9/11 terrorist attacks, prompted an acute awareness of the present as a post-apocalyptic condition bracketed by catastrophe and extinction. In response, British authors experimented with double-mapping techniques designed to concretize the supranational scope of advanced climate change. An increasing number of British authors projected the historical ruination of remote island communities onto speculative topographies extrapolated from IPCC Assessments to compel contemporary readers to conceive of a climate-changed planet aslant. Given the spate of ruined-island- as-future-Earth novels published at the turn of the millennium, this dissertation intervenes in extant criticism by identifying David Mitchell’s Cloud Atlas (2004), Will Self’s The Book of Dave (2006), and Jeanette Winterson’s The Stone Gods (2007) as noteworthy examples of a metamodernist subgenre that makes a distant future of a “futureless” past to position the reader in a state of imagined obsolescence. This project consequently draws on metamodernist theory as a useful heuristic for articulating the traits that distinguish metamodernist cli-fi from precursory texts, with the aim to connect British post-apocalyptic fiction, climate-fiction, and literary metamodernism in productive ways. As the body chapters of this dissertation demonstrate, metamodernist cli-fi primarily uses the double-mapped island to structurally discredit the present as singular in cataclysmic consequence and, therefore, deserving of an unprecedented technological fix. Ultimately, in attempting to refute the moment of completion that would mark history’s end, metamodernist cli-fi challenges the givenness of an anticipated future through which to anchor the advent of an irreversible tipping point. Given the relative dearth of literary scholarship devoted to metamodernist cli-fi, this project posits that this subgenre warrants greater critical attention because it offers potent means for short-circuiting the type of cynical optimism that insists on envisioning human survival in terms of divine, authoritarian, or techno-escapist interventions. / Graduate / 2021-08-08

This essay explores the application of zoomorphism and anthropomorphism in Yann Martel’s novel Life of Pi. The novel, rather than being a mere shipwreck-narrative or a miraculous tale with religious overtones, is also a story about the complicated and perhaps inevitably divided relationship between humans and animals. This essay introduces the fields of ecocriticism and animal studies and defines anthropomorphism and zoomorphism in the context of literary criticism. The essay goes on to discuss the layers of meaning behind the names and naming of the two main characters using Burke’s rhetoric of identification, analyses the anthropomorphism and religiosity in the novel’s two stories, and analyses the two accepted readings of the novel from a zoomorphic perspective. The essay looks at the human-animal divide and its problems in literature, going into Derrida’s animal philosophy to provide a counterpoint to a view derived from Cartesian dualism. In a straight reading of the novel, the first story is regarded as metaphoric while the second story is regarded as literal. There is an alternative reading where it is left to the reader to decide which story is true, but this essay argues that this reading negates a metaphoric interpretation of either story and therefore dismisses the straight reading. Instead, this essay proposes a third, zoomorphic reading, fully compatible with the straight reading, where anthropomorphism is employed to externalize human actions onto animals, but where zoomorphism is employed to project animals onto humans in order to externalize their cannibalism. In the zoomorphic reading, both stories are interpreted as vehicles of projection while avoiding the logical pitfall of the alternative reading.

This essay analyzes the depictions of urban nature in Ottessa Moshfegh’s novel My Year of Rest and Relaxation (2018). The theoretical framework consists primarily of Astrid Bracke’s thoughts on “urban ecology”, Christophe Den Tant’s descriptions of “the urban sublime” and William Cronon’s thoughts on the concept of “Wilderness”, all of which work in the ecocritical field. My Year of Rest and Relaxation explores the concepts of naturalness and artificiality through language and various themes. It takes place in an urban environment where the main character chooses to isolate herself in her city apartment, hence the existence of nature in the traditional sense is absent, yet the text works consistently with elements of urban nature in varying situations. The way in which this urban nature is presented relates to other themes such as the exploration of borders and dichotomies such as nature and culture, organic and artificial as well as animate and inanimate.

<p>  </p> <p>The garden and garden like spaces are ubiquitous in the Romantic narrative and my argument engages the (neo)colonial politics involved in their creation and maintenance within and outside of the Spanish Empire: the majestic and creole garden of Colombia and Cuba, the enslaved subsistence plot or <em>conuco </em>in Cuba, and the sacred, indigenous garden of Mexico, through writers such as Jorge Isaacs, Gertrudis Gómez de Avellaneda, Anselmo Suárez y Romero, Cirilo Villaverde, and Ignacio Manuel Altamirano, amongst others. I address how these garden spaces exist within and alongside of what I term the garden state: the transformation and domestication of nature through agriculture and horticulture. This is an imperial and neo-imperial environmental aesthetic that emerges in response to the rise of liberal agro-economic policies in the light of industrialization, the entrance of the West into ‘modernity,’ and the proliferation of the <em>hacienda </em>and <em>ingenio</em>. It is with the garden’s function as descriptor for nation and as discrete, enclosed space for the cultivation of nature that I engage with its capacity to mediate the politics of belonging and civilization in Romantic literature and mid-century cultural and political discourse. Traditionally read, the Romantic narrative centers around erotic productivity, through romantic couplings as a measure for the success or failure of the family. Parallel to this erotic drive, the garden state introduces a narrative of economic productivity that the presence of the garden, its creation, maintenance, and decline interrupts. The failure of the garden state parallels not only that of erotic productivity in the narratives, but rather it brings to the fore the fundamental contradictions of the civilizing project. These narratives are predicated on the continued exclusion of those exploited and displaced under the Spanish Empire—namely Indigenous Peoples, the enslaved, and women. However, as I develop a politics of belonging and labor, I posit that these same narratives complicate exclusionary politics through the environmental emplacement of their marginalized protagonists. As such their subsequent deaths or further displacement undermine the very places they were to uphold, causing the gardens’ destruction. I analyze the interaction of the politics of race and gender within the garden and garden state through death, labor, desire, and secularization to highlight the complexity of “civilization,” offering novel readings on how nature aides in questioning the broader limits of the nation in nineteenth-century Latin America and the waning Spanish Empire. </p>

As a medium of modernity, film has always been entwined with the energy regime sustaining it. This thesis is interested in the interrelation between film and oil, and approached as a piece of petro-fiction, Henri-Georges Clouzot’s film The Wages of Fear (1953) is subject to a close, ecocritical analysis. A selection of four additional oil-films are used as points of comparison. By looking at a variety of representational and aesthetic aspects, the study explores how the film visualises the Anthropocene and negotiates the oil culture in which it exists. By reading the film in terms of oil, this thesis finds that the film in various ways expresses an entanglement with oil culture, while also criticising the same dependency. From the five oil films that have been analysed, catastrophe is an inherent motif, and part of the attraction of oil as subject matter, mirrored in broader culture of exuberance. In contrast to the other films, The Wages of Fear plays less into spectacle but opens to a critical examination of the various exploitations involved at the hands of the oil industry.

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In The Machine in the Garden: Technology and the Pastoral Idea in America, Leo Marx “evaluates the uses of the pastoral ideal in the interpretation of American experience” (Marx 4). While Marx explores ways that pastoralism has been impacted by factors such as industrialism, it is the purpose of this project to explore Marx’s assertion regarding the presence of the figurative and literal machine within the poetry of Robinson Jeffers. Jeffers’ poetry is generally located within the landscapes of California. His lyric poetry has a distinct connection to the land and is driven by inhumanism, which works to shift the “emphasis and significance from man to not-man…” (Oelschlaeger 246). Jeffers’ machine like elements highlight the relationship between the natural world and humanity’s intrusion; in doing so, Jeffers furthers Marx’s supposition that American literature continues to be impacted by the machine, by “forces working against the dream of pastoral fulfillment” (Marx 358).

Denna uppsats analyserar dikterna ”(Österöd)”, ”(Återbesök – 26 augusti)” och ”(Koelbjergkvinden)” ur Gunnar D Hanssons diktsamling Tapeshavet. Dikterna undersöks i förhållande till Timothy Mortons ekokritik, samt ur ett metapoetiskt och etiskt perspektiv. Vad dikterna framhåller är det problematiska i att försöka skriva fram en anti-antropocentrisk värld eftersom det mänskliga subjektet alltid finns implicerad i det metapoetiska greppet som Hansson använder sig av. Dikterna bär i och med detta också på en etisk aspekt eftersom de engagerar sig i frågor om både hur man bör och kan dikta om miljön. / This essay analyses the poems ”(Österöd)”, ”(Återbesök – 26 augusti)” and ”(Koelbjergkvinden)” from Gunnar D Hansson’s collection of poems Tapeshavet. The poems are examined in relation to Timothy Morton’s ecocriticism, and from a meta-poetic and ethical perspective. What the poems emphasize is the problematic aspect of trying to convey an anti-anthropocentric world, as the human subject is always implicated in the meta-poetic grip which Hansson uses. Subsequently, the poems also carry an ethical aspect because they engage in questions about both how one ought and can write about the environment.

In this comparative examination of cinematic representations of American and Brazilian wildernesses, I argue for the necessity of a transnational, postregional, and ecocritical approach to film studies. The way that the deserts of the American West are represented by Hollywood Western filmmakers reveal underlying ecological and political philosophies, and provide a productive contrast with representations of the sertão, a similarly arid biome in Brazil. Among other theoretical approaches, this study uses W. J. T. Mitchell’s idea of “landscape” as a verb to examine the formal devices by which filmmakers and audiences “landscape” these “wildernesses.” Using John Ford’s The Searchers (1956) as an example, I suggest that Hollywood Westerns inscribe the land with a colonial gaze that reflects and perpetuates a dualistic conception of nature, one that sees nature as separate and distinct from humankind. Cinema Novo, the radical anticolonial movement in Brazilian cinema, provides an aesthetic and philosophical alternative. Through an analysis of one of Cinema Novo’s foundational works by one of its founding figures—Glauber Rocha’s Deus e o diabo na terra do sol [Black God, White Devil] (1964)—I demonstrate how the theory and practice of Rocha’s anticolonial “aesthetic of hunger” has an ecological dimension, one that rejects and collapses a binary opposition between humans and nature. By looking beyond borders which too often function not only as national boundaries but to delimit fields of academic study, this project finds common ground for comparison in representations of nature, and demonstrates the political and ecological implications thereof.