The World Underfoot: Mosaics and Metaphor in the Greek Symposium by Hallie M. Franks

Reviewed by: From Symposium to Eucharist: The Banquet in the Early Christian World Andrea Lieber Dennis E. Smith. From Symposium to Eucharist: The Banquet in the Early Christian World. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2003. Pp. xi + 411. From Symposium to Eucharist: The Banquet in the Early Christian World brings together an impressive array of source material on meal traditions in antiquity, focusing on the formal banquet as a social institution in the Greco-Roman world. The book, which began as the author's 1980 Harvard University dissertation, represents the culmination of more than twenty years of research. With chapters on Greco-Roman banquets, philosophical banquets, sacrificial banquets, club banquets, Jewish banquets, Pauline banquet traditions, and banquet scenes in Gospel narratives, Smith's text would be extremely useful for an introductory-level course on custom and culture in the ancient world. The original artistic renderings of banquet scenes featured in chapter one, based primarily on vase paintings and ancient literary sources, are especially useful pedagogical tools. The central argument of the book is straightforward. Placing the Eucharist in its sociocultural context, which he defines as predominantly Greco-Roman in influence, Smith asserts that early Christians dined at table simply because it was Greco-Roman custom to do so. He positions his argument against earlier scholarship on the Eucharist which, he charges, focused too much on the variety of discrete meal forms that might have influenced the Eucharist or traced its origins to a particular type of communal meal (e.g., Jewish Passover seder, Greek symposium). Smith argues instead for a simplified model in which all variations of meals in antiquity are subsumed under the general category of the Greco-Roman banquet. His goal is to "provide a common model that can be utilized for the study of all data on formal meals from the Greco-Roman world" (p. 2) and to prove that "the banquet was a single social institution that pervaded the culture as a whole" (p. 12). This argument is clearly articulated in the opening chapter, with the help of detailed diagrams and figures. In support of his thesis, Smith devotes his remaining chapters to a discussion of various types of ancient meals, highlighting what he sees as their common structure. The most comprehensive chapters are those on the Greco-Roman banquet and the Club banquet. These discussions reflect an impressive expertise with an astounding range of ancient sources. According to Smith's typology, the "banquet as social form" consists of [End Page 263] the following elements: the practice of reclining at table; the division of the meal into two courses (deipnon and symposium); the use of formal invitations; the positioning of couches according to rank; the use of servants; the practice of foot washing and anointment; the designation of a symposiarch to lead the banquet; and the central role of entertainment at the meal. Smith then illustrates the ways in which each of the meals he studies conforms to this basic structure. In his concluding paragraphs, Smith suggests that his approach, which situates early Christianity in its Greco-Roman context, "can provide a surer basis for historical reconstruction of Christian origins" and allow for "a greater appreciation for the diversity of early Christian social formation and theological elaboration." "Furthermore," he adds, "if we take full account of the richness of the earliest Christian meal tradition, we can find in it models for renewal of Christian theology and liturgy today toward a greater focus on community" (p. 287). In the end, however, Smith's earnest attempt to broaden the discussion of Christian origins effectively narrows it with an analytical approach that is overly reductive. Although he successfully demonstrates the influence of Greco-Roman banquets on the world of early Christianity, his single-minded focus on only one aspect of the tradition eclipses the important subtleties that make the Eucharist (not to mention early Christianity as a whole) the fascinating, syncretistic tradition it is. While it is undeniable that the various meal traditions Smith analyzes do reflect the influence of Greco-Roman customs, Smith's typology oversimplifies the issues and presents a deceptively monolithic approach. For example, the main focus on Greco-Roman traditions as the overarching framework almost entirely effaces...

From Tarporley to Dolon: The Reattribution of the Early South Italian “New York Goose Vase”

Emergence of the concept of endocrine function and endocrinology

Reviewed by: Performing Pain: Music and Trauma in Eastern Europe by Maria Cizmic Alice Miller Cotter Performing Pain: Music and Trauma in Eastern Europe. By Maria Cizmic. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012. [xii, 233 p. ISBN 9780199734603. $65.] Music examples, illustrations, bibliography, index, companion Web site. Since the late 1970s and early 1980s, the field of trauma studies has become vast. Primarily as a result of the feminist movement, the return of Vietnam War veterans, and the rise of Holocaust survivor testimonies, researchers began to show widespread interest in understanding the psychological effects of trauma. Although terms such as “shellshock,” “wound to the mind,” and “lasting effect” have been used since the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, it was not until 1980 that the first formal category of trauma, specifically “post-traumatic stress disorder” (PTSD), appeared in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders I (DSM-I) and became recognized as an acute public health concern in the United States. By the 1990s, scholars had begun to find that trauma studies aligned well with the values of interdisciplinary study, and now, with more than thirty years of research from neuroscience and clinical psychology as well as the humanities, this relatively new area of study has given rise to a substantial body of scholarship. Yet despite increased interest in trauma, musicologists have scarcely explored the topic—and likely with reason, since the articulation of connections between music and lived experience is no easy task. Maria Cizmic’s Performing Pain: Music and Trauma in Eastern Europe is more than a pioneering study; it represents a real breakthrough. Stemming from her 2004 dissertation, it is the first book-length investigation to focus on music in relation to trauma. In a sweeping discussion that weaves together issues surrounding memory, truth, ethics, and spirituality as they existed in Eastern Europe and Russia prior to and during glasnost, Cizmic examines how four musical compositions by Alfred Schnittke, Galina Ustvolskaya, Arvo Pärt, and Henryk Górecki bear witness to trauma. She is not afraid to ask big questions of these works: how they metaphorically perform the psychological effects of trauma, how they participate in public conversations regarding suffering, how they shape the meaning of a testimonial act, and how listeners respond (p. 3). In return, her discussion (addressed to both non-specialists and scholars in a variety of disciplines) is as wide-ranging as it is ambitious and requires a reader willing to traverse complicated interdisciplinary terrain. The effort is well worthwhile. To be sure, Cizmic’s work is an important addition to a growing subfield in studies of twentieth-century composers who have used music to engage in a range of reflections in the midst of and aftermath of violence, censorship, and the terror of “not knowing the rules” in totalitarian Eastern European societies. Yet her chief contribution lies in the use of trauma theory as a conceptual tool for understanding how these composers found ways to respond to the brutality, instability, and psychological damage suffered by survivors of the gulag era. The author’s methodological underpinning is fundamentally hermeneutic in scope and draws on a dichotomy in trauma theory, namely that “trauma forces representation to fall apart at the same time that representation offers an important path for recovery” (p. 169). This tension between unspeakability and the need for expression influences how individuals respond to traumatic events, and, as Cizmic shows, aesthetic [End Page 527] corollaries often surface. The matter is further complicated by the fact that the Soviet government managed the meanings of historical traumas by “ignoring them, falsifying records, or transforming them into narratives of heroic triumph” (p. 4), yet people inevitably participated in creative acts to make sense of the realities of suffering and to reckon with what the State did not. Without using overly technical language, the author emphasizes the flexibility of musical expression for engaging the effects of trauma just as composers might use music to reflect on other aspects of human experience. Cizmic strikes a remarkable balance between relying on trauma theory to guide her discussion and stepping back to assess its explanatory work. The most nuanced passages involve Cizmic’s revision of Cathy Caruth and...

Reviewed by: Exhortations to Philosophy: The Protreptics of Plato, Isocrates, and Aristotle by James Henderson Collins II Svetla Slaveva-Griffin James Henderson Collins II. Exhortations to Philosophy: The Protreptics of Plato, Isocrates, and Aristotle. New York: Oxford University Press, 2015. Pp. xiv, 300. $74.00. ISBN 978–0-19–935859–5. This book examines the origin of the genre of philosophical and rhetorical protreptics (“turnings toward”) in the classical period. The topic is timely, despite the latest insurgent scholarly interest in physics as opposed to the traditionally predominant study of ethics. Although the question of recruitment strategies, as used by philosophy and rhetoric, carries in itself deep ethical connotations about the wares the two disciplines have to offer, Collins’ examination is not, nor does it intend to be, a philosophical analysis of their ethical nature. Instead, it falls—and markedly so—in the category of Quellenforschung and the theorization of literary genres such as F. Cairns’ Generic Composition in Greek and Roman Poetry (Edinburgh 1972) and M. M. Bakhtin’s Speech Genres and Other Late Essays (Austin 1986). Bringing his predecessors’ course of study up to date, Collins applies to his investigation the trendy repertoire of intellectual culture as “a marketplace of ideas” wherein philosophic discourse becomes “philosophic advertising,” students are “prospective clients” and “consumers,” and philosophers and rhetoricians are “professional intellectuals” and “competitors” with “marketing campaigns” (ix–xiv). While the above branding may seem to some excessive, the book makes an original contribution to the study of the origin of philosophical (and, secondarily, of rhetorical) protreptics in fourth-century Athens. After a hefty introduction (hefty both in length and theoretical content), the book is divided into two parts, featuring the Platonic and the Isocratean sides of exhortative literature (parts 1 and 2, respectively), followed by an epilogue on the stabilization of the genre in Aristotle. For economy of space, I will highlight the main course of the argument in the individual parts, not in the individual chapters. The core argument is presented in the introduction. In it, Collins introduces what he refers to as “my theory of protreptic” (3) or “our more fluid model” (33) as configured against the background of the aforementioned studies and Aristotle’s rhetorical theory. Collins’ theory/model proposes that in the fourth century philosophy and rhetoric compete with each other to attract students as consumers of the different lifestyles they have to offer. While this competition gives the two disciplines an at first unique, and later a characteristic, protreptic bent (33), the protreptic genre itself does not mature in its fully-fledged form until Aristotle. The fluidity of the genre, Collins argues, is based on the interaction between external and internal levels of discourse. With time, this dynamic interaction, the author concludes, defines the form and content of the protreptic genre as found in Aristotle. The two parts of the main body illustrate the above thesis. Part 1 dissects the discursive levels of Plato’s dialogues into the categories of the intra- and extra-diegetic, the metaleptic, and the pro- and apotreptic. Collins correctly understands these levels as mutually embedded in the structure of the individual works, as, for example, in Plato’s Euthydemus. The dialogue aims at attracting and ultimately at converting an external audience to philosophy, in direct competition with the wares of the rhetoric-based model, by narrating its own internal “conversion” story. Part 2 turns to the Isocratean model. In comparison and [End Page 433] in competition with the Platonic model, the rhetorical model is more flexible, according to Collins. It stems from “lived experience” and allows the audience to voice its beliefs—beliefs that are only afterwards corrected by professional teachers. The epilogue examines the stabilization of the genre in Aristotle’s Protrepticus, now lost but indirectly documented through its rich reception. The organization of the work is unbalanced, and the inclusion of Aristotle in its title is an overstatement. The book is about the origin of the protreptic genre in the Platonic dialogue, with Isocrates’ speeches as a corollary, and Aristotle’s contribution as an aftermath. This imbalance, however, works well in proving the main thesis of the book: that, in the fourth century, there is no protreptic...

INTRODUCTION: TRANSFORMING APHRODITE FROM THE CLASSICAL TO HELLENISTIC ERAS This chapter examines the creation and early Greek reception of the Aphrodite of Capua type, c. 350–50 B.C. It analyzes some of the ways in which Late Classical and Hellenistic artists gave a sensuous yet powerful form to Aphrodite, a goddess central to the traditional Greek pantheon and newly prominent at this time. Images of Aphrodite permeated the visual culture of the Hellenistic world – from the imposing civic spaces of the polis, to luxurious private homes, to generously outfitted tombs. For the well-off inhabitants of traditional Greek cities, these images were particularly desirable and popular. Like the sentimental epic of Apollonios Rhodios or the early Greek romance novels, these Hellenistic Aphrodites offered their patrons an attractive vision of sensual pleasure and romantic passion. They gave concrete visual form to a newly emerging ideal: individual fulfillment through love. For such images, Late Classical cult statues of Aphrodite provided particularly appropriate models. In the late fifth and fourth centuries B.C., Aphrodite's sensuous power – erotic, seductive, irresistible – was rendered more overtly and effectively than before in monumental sculpture and vase painting. The best-known example is the Aphrodite of Knidos, a revolutionary depiction of the goddess as an idealized female nude. But the Knidia was by no means unique.

Sixth-Form Citizens. An inquiry of the Schools Committee of the Association for Education in Citizenship into the Social Content of Sixth-form Curricula. Pp. xvi, 287. 10s. 6d. 1950. (Geoffrey Cumberlege, Oxford University Press) - Volume 35 Issue 311

Education for Citizenship in Secondary Schools; Greater London: A Social Geography; Downs and Weald: A Social Geography of South-East England; Young Pegasus: An Anthology of Verse; A Short Course in English Grammar; Common Sense in the English Examination; The Master Craftsmen; Over My Shoulder; Records of a Family, 1800-1933; The Book World Education for Citizenship in Secondary Schools . With a Foreword by the Right Oliver Stanley , M.C., M.P. Issued under the auspices of the Association for Education in Citizenship. Oxford University Press . 4 s . 6 d . Greater London: A Social Geography . With a Foreword by the Right F. P. Thornhiix . Christopher's . 3 s . 6 d . Downs and Weald: A Social Geography of South-East England . By J. F. P. Thornhiix . Christopher's . 2 s . 6 d . Young Pegasus: An Anthology of Verse . Arranged by A. A. Le M. Simpson . Bell & Sons . 2 s . A Short Course in English Grammar . Lancelot Oliphant . Oxford University Press . 2 s . Common Sense in the English Examination . Sylvester Lavtpear . Pitman's . 5 s . The Master Craftsmen . M. Gompertz . Nelson . Pp. 268 Many illustrations. 2 s . 6 d . Over My Shoulder . By Bernard Martin . Duckworth . 10 s . 6 d . net. Records of a Family, 1800-1933 . By H. McLachlan . Manchester University Press . 8 s . 6 d . net. The Book World . By various Authors. Edited by John Hampden . London : Nelson . 6 s . net. English: Journal of the English Association, Volume 1, Issue 2, 1936, Pages 183–190, https://doi.org/10.1093/english/1.2.183 Published: 01 August 1936

Greek vase-painting is one of the best studied areas of classical antiquity. Figure decorated pottery, often called “vases,” was produced in large quantities in many regions of the ancient Greek world. Although decorated pottery had been made in Greece since prehistoric times, the field of Greek vase-painting is a branch of classical archaeology which focuses on vessels produced between the late Geometric and late classical/early Hellenistic periods (8th–3rd century bce). Early modern connoisseurs and collectors during the 18th century were attracted to Greek vases coming out of tombs in Italy, often mistakenly considering them to be Etruscan rather than Greek. Formal study of vases began during the late 19th century, but it was throughout the 20th that the sub-discipline truly gained momentum. Through the efforts of J. D. Beazley (b. 1885–d. 1970), a professor at Oxford University, the black- and red-figure vases of Athens (also termed “Attic”) which survive in enormous quantities were categorized according to painter and published in his magisterial lists (Attic Black-Figure Vase-Painters, 1956; Attic Red-Figure Vase-Painters, 1963; see Beazley 1956 and Beazley 1963 under Connoisseurship and Attribution). Beazley concentrated on attributing unsigned works, and his attributions remain for many scholars an important framework for the study of Greek vases. A. D. Trendall (b. 1909–d. 1995) created a similar typology for the Greek vase-painters of South Italy and Sicily. Also foundational is the Corpus Vasorum Antiquorum, launched by the Louvre in 1922 (see under Digital and Special Resources), which provides illustrated catalogues of Greek vases from museum collections, and also continues to feature vital information about individual vessels. Since the death of Beazley, research on Greek vase-painting has evolved greatly. The 1980s and 1990s saw increased attention to vase iconography, including studies of both myth and everyday life. At the same time, there emerged an updated series of regional studies for vases made outside of Athens, including those of Corinth, Boeotia, Laconia, East Greece, and western Greece. These studies too have focused to an extent on painter attribution, production, and distribution, while important developments in archaeological science have greatly benefited our understanding of local fabrics and techniques. In recent decades, scholarship has shifted toward contextual studies that emphasize social, historical, and religious functions and meanings of vases and their images. At present, there is an interest in the role of archaeological context and how it may have impacted the choices of both artist and consumer.

This article is a survey of familiar ground—those passages of the Poetics of Aristotle which throw light on the treatment of legend by the tragic poets. Although sweeping generalizations are often made on the use of the traditional stories in drama, our evidence on the subject is slight and inconclusive. We have little knowledge of the form in which most of the legends were known to the Attic playwrights, for the few we find in the Iliad and Odyssey appear there in very different versions from those they take on in the plays, and the fragmentary remains of epic and lyric poetry between Homer and the fifth century B.C. present us with a wide field for speculation, but few certain facts; while vase paintings and other works of art supplement only here and there the scanty information gained from literature.The comments of ancient writers on this aspect of tragedy are surprisingly few, and carry us little farther. The Poetics stands out as the one source from which we can draw any substantial account of the matter. Even Aristotle, of course, is not directly concerned with the history of drama, and deals with it only incidentally in isolated passages; and in considering these it must constantly be borne in mind that he is discussing tragedy as he knew it in the late fourth century, for the benefit of fourth-century readers. But even so, his statements are the main foundation on which our view of the dramatists' use of legend must be built.

Jacoby's influential opinion that the Atthidographers were part of the political discourse of the fourth century has been the subject of revision in recent years. His critics have argued that the genre of Atthidography is primarily antiquarian and that to look for partisan political attitudes in the Atthides is a mistake. An examination of the work of Kleidemos, however, reveals a coherent presentation of the Athenian past designed to vindicate the democratic constitution and to demonstrate the close connection between the democracy and Athens' naval power. This emerges most clearly in Kleidemos's treatment of three important democratic heroes: Theseus, Kleisthenes, and Themistokles. By the fourth century, Theseus had already emerged as the most popular Athenian hero. His accomplishments were modeled in part on the deeds of Herakles and were recorded in vase painting and relief sculpture, and on the walls of the Stoa Poikile. Kleidemos presented a distinctive account of Theseus, emphasizing his role in founding the Athenian navy in preparation for the expedition to Krete. Kleidemos portrayed him as a leader capable of defending Athens and making peace with Athens' enemies, first the Kretans and later the Amazons. This is a king in the tradition of Euripides' Theseus in the Suppliants, the ruler of a free and democratic city. The connection between democratic leadership, Athenian might, and the naval power of Athens is also underscored in Kleidemos's handling of Kleisthenes. Again, the information provided by Kleidemos is distinctive, inasmuch as he reports that it was Kleisthenes who was responsible for the system of naukrariai, which he likens to the symmories of the fourth century. Unlike the version of the Ath. Pol., which imagines the Kleisthenic demes replacing the Solonian naukrariai, Kleidemos saw the demes and naukrariai as complementary divisions, the former organizing the state's resources for the upkeep of the navy, and the latter establishing the political basis for the democracy. Themistokles is also given unique treatment. Kleidemos records the anecdote according to which Themistokles was responsible for the Battle of Salamis because he found sufficient money to man the ships when the generals had run out of funds and had ordered the abandonment of the city. He used the disappearance of the gorgoneion of the statue of Athena as an excuse to ransack the baggage of the Athenians and collect enough wealth to pay the fleet. The story is as tendentious as the account in the Ath. Pol., which gives the credit to the Areopagos. Both versions demonstrate how Athens' past had become a battleground in the political debates of the mid-fourth century. Unlike the epitaphios logos with its emphasis on the eternal and unchanging glory of Athens, the "Atthis" of Kleidemos attempted to prove that the greatness of Athens rested historically on three foundations: the heroes of the democracy, the democratic constitution, and the navy.

This essay deals with two conspicuous and disparate features of archaic Greece, tyrants and epic poetry, at a key moment when the two intersect. It is a rare instance in which not simply is a tyrant recorded as the patron of one or another famous poet, but the tyrant seems to have played a direct role in determining the form and shape of poems as they have come down to us - and not just any poems, but the Homeric Iliad and Odyssey. I propose to bring to bear some modest iconographical evidence on this nexus of thorny problems: Who were these rhapsodes of the sixth century? What exactly did they do at the Panathenaic festival in Athens, and when did they start doing it? And what did they contribute to the shaping of our Iliad and Odyssey? The main text related to my topic is well known, and I will present it briefly as a prologue to the evidence from vase painting. It occurs in a dialogue named Hipparchos, after the son of the tyrant Peisistratos and co-tyrant himself, with his brother Hippias, from the death of their father in 528. The dialogue has come down to us in the corpus of Plato; opinion nowadays generally considers it not by Plato, but by someone writing perhaps a generation after Plato’s death, still well within the fourth century.’ Though nominally a discussion of to philokerdes (love of profit) between Socrates and an unnamed interlocutor, the dialogue becomes, in the middle section, a kind of encomium of the enlightened tyrant Hipparchos. Here we learn, among other things, of Hipparchos’ strong literary bent (a judgment confirmed by Arist. Ath. Pol. 18.1), manifested in the celebrated poets he brought to Athens (Anakreon and Simonides), as well as the verses he himself composed to be carved on herms set up as road signs in the Attic countryside. Judging from the two examples quoted in the dialogue (229a-b), Simonides and Anakreon had no cause to fear Hipparchos as a rival.

The characteristic costume of Greek comic actors has been widely represented iconographically in statuettes and vase paintings from the fifth and fourth centuries B.C. Theatre historians instantly recognize the grotesquely distorted expressions on the masks, the rotund shapes formed by ill-concealed padding, and, most distinctively, the comic phallus. A “dangling leather symbol… red at the tip, swollen,” the comic phallus, of course, represents male genitalia.

Reviewed by: Charles Dickens and the Properties of Fiction: The Lodger World by Ushashi Dasgupta Molly Boggs (bio) Charles Dickens and the Properties of Fiction: The Lodger World, by Ushashi Dasgupta; pp. xv + 307. Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press, 2020, £63.00, $85.00. In Charles Dickens and the Properties of Fiction: The Lodger World, Ushashi Dasgupta reminds us that, while Charles Dickens has become inexorably associated with images of cozy Victorian domesticity, this is the product of careful ideological work that began soon after his death. When John Forster wrote in his biography of Dickens that his genius was in his "domestic nature," or when Robert William Buss painted him imagining his characters from a snug seat in his study at Gad's Hill, they were actively creating this image of Dickens situated in the comfortable, private middle-class home (The Life of Charles Dickens [Chapman, 1899], 282). Dasgupta asks us to consider Dickens's domestic legacy alongside "an alternative, equally powerful narrative: he was a tenant for much of his life, and considered tenancy to be a reality worthy of serious exploration" (23). Throughout his career, Dasgupta argues, Dickens would remain fascinated by the question of whether "moving house, and the flexibility and transformation that mobility brings, can be healthier than attachment to place" (8). Dasgupta invites us not into Dickens's idealized homes, but rather into his drafty rented rooms, where lonely bachelors write home with tallies of complaints, the landlady pockets your tea, and strangers eavesdrop just on the other side of the wall. This is the Lodger World. Investing tenancy with its own agency and subjectivity, Dasgupta declares that "this book revolves around an economic transaction, the spaces in which it is realized, and the people it touches" (2). In doing so she aligns herself with what has been called the new [End Page 306] economic criticism: the study of the ways in which the material conditions of financial systems shape literary form. Dasgupta pays close attention to the granular historical detail of life in lodgings: which chores a landlady was responsible for undertaking; the implied class distinction between a ground floor and a second-story room; and the particular characters of neighborhoods like Leicester Square. She also draws on the work of William Makepeace Thackeray, Wilkie Collins, Henry Mayhew, George Augustus Sala, Anthony Trollope, and other mid-century writers to flesh out a canon of Victorian literature of the lodging house, which provides an exciting new context for reading Dickens. In chapter 1, Dasgupta contextualizes Dickens's early fiction against the lodging-house farce, a popular early-nineteenth-century theatrical genre. By learning more about the day-to-day experience of life in the lodging house, where the complex individuality of lodgers necessarily becomes distilled into stereotypes and tropes, we can see the lasting influence of both lodging-house life and the farce tradition on Dickens's writing career. Dasgupta pays special attention to Dickens's continued fascination with live-in landladies. Successfully bridging the spheres of economic and domestic life, the Victorian landlady occupied "a genuinely subversive position in nineteenth-century culture." While other contemporary authors played up the grotesquerie of this position, Dickens instead aligns himself with his "irrepressible" landladies (77)—sources of constant narrative, deeply concerned with issues of character, and with the power to create "tiny worlds of their own from nothing" (85)—and subsumes them into his developing authorial voice. Dasgupta is most exciting when she reveals, as she does here, that what we think of as idiosyncratic stylistic quirks in Dickens can be connected to specific and complex material realities. In chapter 2, Dasgupta continues her focus on genre by turning to Dickens's experiments with the Bildungsroman in David Copperfield (1849) and Great Expectations (1861). Both David and Pip experience bachelor life in London lodgings as a kind of domestic hazing on the path that, they hope, will ultimately lead to marriage and domestic peace. Yet readers must learn, as David does, that "living in lodgings is less a droll initiation ritual than a complex and prolonged state of being" (107). The lodger's independence can quickly turn into loneliness, and the motherly care of...

Anchored in transnational feminist citizenship theories, this narrative inquiry study delves into the lived experiences and citizenship education pedagogies of a female migrant social studies teacher named Ms. Bailey who works in a school in New York City. The findings of the study demonstrate the ways Ms. Bailey incorporates multiple borders and private/informal arenas in her senses of belonging and caring practices. The findings also highlight how Ms. Bailey’s transnational trajectories inform her perceptions and pedagogies of citizenship education, which are centred on affective, cultural, and trans-communal realms. By illuminating Ms. Bailey’s fluid and multilayered citizen-subjects as well as her distinctive citizenship education, this study challenges and complicates normative, patriarchal, political-juridical, and nation-centric ideas of citizens. The study also contributes to an emergent body of work on migrant social studies teachers’ citizenship education and the ways it is shaped by their distinctive personal, familial, and transnational experiences.