Jewelry Box Research Articles

A Study on the Jewelry Box in the National Palace Museum

A Study on the Jewelry Box in the National Palace Museum

Comparative Study of Jepara Carving Design in the Era of Islamic Kingdom and Colonialism Era

Jepara carving experienced the transition of three major cultures, namely Hindu-Buddhist-Javanese to Islam and Islam to the Dutch colonial period. This research uses case studies in the form of artifacts created in each of these periods. In the Demak Kingdom era, the Bledeg Door carving design was used in the Kalinyamat Kingdom era, the Kalinyamat Mosque wall ornament carving design was used. In the Islamic Mataram Kingdom era, the Gong Senen carving was used, while in the colonial era or Kartini era, the Kartini Jewelry Box carving design was used. This research hopes to provide answers and analye whether during these cultural transitions there were significant changes to Jepara carvings, then whether these 3 major cultures had an influence on changes in Jepara carvings and what factors influenced the changes in Jepara carvings. One of the conclusions of this research is that the artifacts made during the golden age of the Islamic Kingdom of Mataram (Gong Senen) do not reflect Islamic culture at all, but instead the principles of Islamic teachings are present in the overall symbolic value of each motif.
 
 Keywords: comparative, design, Jepara carving, Islamic Kingdom, colonial

That Which I Consider Untamable

81 PAIGE QUIÑONES That Which I Consider Untamable • There is an animal behind my house. I can smell him from my bedroom. At night, he pulls at the cellar, claws shapes into trees with scores so deep they pulse. An X, an eye, a goat. Mornings, there are birds in neat rows on my doorstep. Starlings, meadowlarks: each breast splayed open like a gentleman’s waiting hand. I can only imagine his mouth, that primitive hole, lined in feathers as if Hope were a word he could craft. I see him sometimes at the bottom of my stairs, spine low, darkness slinking closer. I light more lanterns. I caught him once, coming away with only a fistful of black and silver fur. Though I keep this tuft in a jewelry box, it is not enough. I would like his entire pelt. I would like to lie in it. ...

Transformations: Creating Character in Contemporary Photography

TransformationsCreating Character in Contemporary Photography Kristine Somerville Click for larger view View full resolution Yinka Shonibare, Medusa West, 2015, digital chromogenic print and bespoke wooden frame, © Yinka Shonibare CBE. All rights reserved, DACS/ARS, NY, 2021. Image courtesy James Cohan Gallery, New York and Shanghai, photo: Adam Reich. [End Page 153] Vain trifles as they seem, clothes have, they say, more important offices than merely to keep us warm. They change our view of the world and the world's view of us. … There is much to support the view that it is clothes that wear us and not we them; we may make them take the mould of arm or breast, but they mould our hearts, our brains, our tongues to their liking. —Virginia Woolf, Orlando As a child during the '60s, I fell in love with the adventurous styles of the era, with their bright colors and patterns, variety of materials and textures, and extreme shapes, from form-fitting to free-flowing and voluminous. I had several pieces of clothing that I adored: a silk shirt patterned with wide-eyed, lush-whiskered cats, light blue patent leather saddle shoes, and a richly embroidered peasant top. I was an awkward, shy child who hid behind her mother when strangers spoke to her, but I was extroverted in my sense of style. The flashier the clothes, the better I liked them and the braver I felt when venturing out into the world. Playing dress-up was a favorite pastime. One of the advantages of being a child of divorce was that once my parents remarried, I had four closets to raid rather than two. In my father's, there were pieces from different phases of his life. From his college years, he kept his letterman sweater and fraternity sweatshirts, and from his mandatory military service in the army in Frankfurt, Germany, he still had his green fatigues, flight jacket, and combat helmet. In his early thirties, he was too old for the swinging '60s, but he had the outfits, a beloved Sonny Bono–inspired suede vest lined with llama fur and wide-checked bell-bottom pants. But his uniform of real life—dress shirts and sharply tailored three-piece business suits, the occasional cashmere sweater—crowded out the flashy phases of youth. Hidden in the recesses of my stepmother's closet was a cornucopia of psychedelic silk minidresses, cotton granny dresses, platform shoes, and floppy hats, but I loved even more the slinky evening gowns that she wore when they went out for a night on the town in Chicago. Her closet resembled a small boutique, with a three-way mirror; sequined handbags and strappy heels lined the top shelves, stored in their original boxes. [End Page 154] Click for larger view View full resolution Silin Liu, Frida Kahlo & Céline Liu, 2017, color photograph, courtesy of the artist My mother and stepfather were more practical and less sentimental about clothes. While they didn't keep much from the past, in my stepfather's closet, among his sensible leisure suits, were a few surprises: a paisley smoking jacket with a tasseled belt and a couple of Western shirts with pearl snap buttons. My mother didn't particularly like clothes and tended toward comfortable permanent-press trousers and matching turtlenecks. But she did have a fondness for wigs. A row of felt-covered Styrofoam heads sat atop her dresser, displaying a frosted shag, a blond pageboy, and a mess of brown, tousled curls. The trials of work and the tribulations of a blended family kept my mother and stepfather exhausted. Their dressier clothes languished in dry cleaners' plastic, and the wigs gathered dust, except when I shook one off, popped [End Page 155] Click for larger view View full resolution Silin Liu, Andy Warhol & Céline Liu, 2015, color photograph, courtesy of the artist it on my head, and paraded around the house while draped in strings of fake pearls that I had pillaged from her jewelry box. Child psychologists often encourage the play of dressing up because it allows children to explore the adult world. This was true for me. I didn't yet have a sense of my...

That Which I Consider Untamable

81 PAIGE QUIÑONES That Which I Consider Untamable • There is an animal behind my house. I can smell him from my bedroom. At night, he pulls at the cellar, claws shapes into trees with scores so deep they pulse. An X, an eye, a goat. Mornings, there are birds in neat rows on my doorstep. Starlings, meadowlarks: each breast splayed open like a gentleman’s waiting hand. I can only imagine his mouth, that primitive hole, lined in feathers as if Hope were a word he could craft. I see him sometimes at the bottom of my stairs, spine low, darkness slinking closer. I light more lanterns. I caught him once, coming away with only a fistful of black and silver fur. Though I keep this tuft in a jewelry box, it is not enough. I would like his entire pelt. I would like to lie in it. ...

Female-Star-Authorship across South Asia: Genres and controversy on Pakistani and Indian Screens

ABSTRACT If women’s angry controversies with oppressive systems have been central to feminist consciousness-raising, expressions of systemic female indignation have tended to be marginalized or suppressed in the bourgeois female-and-family-centered “Socials” born of Pakistani and Indian national cinema cultures in the 1950’s through 1970’s. Turning to mainstream cinema that responds to feminist mobilization, this article excavates the reflexive role taken by female-star-directors of postcolonial South Asia in unsettling dominant narratives of family and state by way of working paradoxically through their own star identifications with domestic women in social film traditions. Illuminating a hitherto unexplored industrial genealogy of female authorship across South Asia, this study relates star-director-producer Shamim Ara (1942–2016) from the Lahore film industry (Pakistan) to star-director Aparna Sen (1945-) from the Kolkata film industry (India). My argument is that, despite contextual differences, these stars as ambivalent performative “authors” inhabit both cinematic and extra-cinematic media (television, magazines) to rearrange the generic worlds of their fans and produce desire for improper controversies. I examine these intertextual politics of female-star-authorship through the lenses of two entertainment films: Shamim Ara’s Action Heroine film Lady Smuggler (1987) and Aparna Sen’s Horror Comedy The Jewelry Box (2013)

The function of medial temporal lobe and posterior middle temporal gyrus in forming creative associations.

Although the function of the hippocampus and adjacent medial temporal lobe (MTL) areas in forming associations is generally recognized, how MTL contributes to form creative associations that could result in novel and appropriate functions or meanings remains unclear. In this study, we compared highly creative combinations (HCCs) of two objects (e.g., that of "lifejacket" and "distress signal device") that resulted in genuine innovative designs comprising additionally unprecedented functions (the "1 + 1 > 2" effects) with the lowly creative combinations (LCCs, e.g., the combination of "set-top box" and "jewelry box") that resulted in nothing more than simple "1 + 1 = 2" effects. The event-related functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI) study found that during the "early binding phase," when the combinations of the two objects were initially encoded, the right parahippocampus was more intensively activated during the encoding of HCC relative to LCC trials. However, during the "late integration phase," when participants finally formed a holistic mental representation of new products based on the two-object combinations, both HCCs and LCCs were found to be associated with significantly increased hippocampal and parahippocampal activation relative to the baseline condition, but at a similar level. In this "late integration phase," the functional areas appeared to be more intensively activated in HCCs relative to LCCs located in the posterior middle temporal gyrus (pMTG), the area known to mediate category-related processing. Consistently, our supplementary behavioral study found that, relative to LCCs, HCCs had a higher possibility of resulting in some new conceptual expansions that differed from each of the original two objects that constituted the combinations. These findings indicate that the formation of creative combinations not only require MTL-based novel association-formation, but also pMTG-based novel concept-expansion.

The Box, the Fish, and Lost Homes

The Partition of 1947 is a seminal episode in the history of the Indian subcontinent. Partition is still a living reality; it continues to define the everydayness of lives in the partitioned states. Memory is an important topic in the field of Partition Studies: the act of remembering and the subject of remembrance illuminate our understanding of Partition in more ways than one. Personal memories hold special significance in this regard. This article comprises two personal memory pieces on the cascading effects of Partition in individuals’ lives. The first story is a retelling of my grandmother’s experience of displacement and her subsequent relocation in newly formed India. The story brings forth memories associated with her wedding jewelry box, which she brought with her across the border. The second story focuses on the life experiences of my domestic helper, a second generation recipient of Partition memories.

Resignation, and: Reckoning

Resignation, and: Reckoning Jane Miller (bio) RESIGNATION This world is not puréed, but for youI make it so. Every day a blender grindsraw morning smooth against the chanceyou will disgorge food barely chewed. When I was young you forced the spoon,such rough devotion to nourish, to schoolthe stubborn in me. Now I motherproduce to appease. The texture your life wants, I cannot tender,though I wish it could be. Dementiahas choked you out of speech,your memory, a raging fist.What kindness can, let me blendwith anger, carrot, banana, fear. [End Page 119] RECKONING The coffin where I keep my dead wordsis open. The jewelry box, pink like young skin,where I store trinkets is shut. The ballerina inside her pink tutu face downon her footed spring, waits for the handthat opens her. She must be tired, always rising over the horizon of my face. Outside, an egret standsin the marsh, a white flag marking my surrenderto the wind. On my walls, swallows painted in their frames are gone. Where wormswill crawl, they peck at my casket words, beakstyping on pine, fresh-cut unlined. In bed, I am a ghost form breathing rufflesinto sheets pulled taut as paper,my wallpaper wilting like corsages that once romanced my wrist, my shoulderwhere babies clung. On the blanket stand,my burial dress, all scattered florals. I will be nosegay, cabbage headwith blue hydrangea perm,my eyes’ fringed curtains finally [End Page 120] closed, my nose never moreto be unstuffed, and my mouth,with helpful stitching, seamed shut. Where are my babies now? I have seen enough bodiesto know how rouge helps deathblush. I hope the satin words comfort me,that the birds leave enough. [End Page 121] Jane Miller Jane Miller’s poetry has appeared in the Iron Horse Literary Review, Summerset Review, cahoodaloodaling, Mojave River Review, and Pittsburgh Poetry Review, among others. A nominee for Best New Poets and Best of the Net, she was a finalist in the 2017 Red Wheelbarrow Poetry Contest. Copyright © 2018 Berea College

Heavy Metal: An essay on Certainty

Heavy MetalAn essay on Certainty Robin Romm (bio) Click for larger view View full resolution Photo by Maximilian Paradiz [End Page 104] Jeff and I are headed east of town to pawn our gold. I have silver, too—or silver-plated plates, boxed five years ago when my grandfather died. The plates rattle in the back of my hatchback. We take the freeway, Jeff squinting into my iPhone for directions. Jeff is in his forties, somewhat aloof, in work pants and a navy [End Page 105] jacket. I don't know him all that well; he was briefly in a writing group of mine that he suddenly abandoned for reasons he won't explain. He's quick-witted and arch, judgmental and deadpan, and I feel both liked and scorned by him, an experience I find familial. The refinery is set behind barbed-wire fencing. I parallel park between two old pickup trucks on a gravel road. I tried to research a reputable melting place, but the Yelp reviews in a city like Portland tend to focus on yoga studios and vegan cupcakes. During interviews for a journalism piece on pawnshops, I'd heard about this place and thought it sounded under the radar, efficient. A refinery. Refine, from the Latin "finire," to finish again. It almost had the sound of a fairy-tale business. Straw into gold. Or, in this case, gold into lots of cash. The rates for gold have never been higher. The sound of thick traffic mixes with the squawk of crows and a whirgrinding from one of the nearby warehouses. My car crackles from exertion and settles onto the dust. Jeff raises his eyebrows slightly, assessing the squat, black-windowed building surrounded by barbed wire. He opens the door wordlessly and stands, the fall light on his pale face revealing the lines in his face, the soft gaps in his thinning hair. I don't know what happened to Jeff's marriage. He's not a forthcoming person, which has the curious effect of making me divulge too much about my life. I have filled his restrained silences, not with chitchat about lunches in Portland or the weather but with how I couldn't move to Iowa with Don, my boyfriend of ten years, because I wasn't ready to move anywhere yet, to lose the fragile sense of home I'd just started to feel after a three-year career debacle. I wanted more stability, not more moving, not more questing. I wanted a house on a foundation, a man with a plan, a child. I wanted stillness. I didn't tell Jeff all of this, just that when I'd gone to move, I'd packed one cupboard in the bathroom and then couldn't make my hands do any more packing. I literally could not move them. Jeff raised his eyebrows. I shut up. Jeff fell in love and fell out of love. He had the whole thing: a purchased house on a foundation, the woman with a plan (she was a doctor), and two kids. But he still wound up on this Wednesday afternoon at the refinery, his wedding ring bound for the pot. The truth is, Jeff has been sending me highly crafted literary e-mails for several months. If I ask him to read a page of my novel, since he offered to be a reader, he writes me back in dense detail, letters filled [End Page 106] with observations, literary allusions, jokes. They must take him hours. I tell myself they are friendly, but no other friends do this for me. When I asked him to research refineries for his ring and my jewelry, he pretended to find the following businesses: Smelt Away the Memories; Heavy Metal, Light Heart. ________ My gold nestles in an old white box, a box I found in my mother's stuff out in Eugene in a closet that hadn't been gone through for years. In it: bat mitzvah earrings of mine, shaped like clams on steroids, so ugly that they have sat in a jewelry box for twenty-two years. Two hoop earrings of my mother's that I loved...

Intuitive Navigation in Computer Applications for People with Parkinson’s

Research is reported concerning the development of intuitive navigation within a music-dance application designed for people with Parkinson’s disease (PD). Following a review of current research into the use of motion-sensing cameras in therapeutic contexts, we describe the method by which a relatively low-cost motion-sensing camera was coupled with a rotatable function menu. The rotatable element of the system enabled navigation of the entire menu using only two, readily performable and distinct gestures: side-swipe for function browsing; down-swipe for function selecting. To aid acceptance amongst the target audience, people with PD (who tend to be relatively elderly), the rotatable function menu was rendered as a ballerina jewelry box, with appropriate texturing and music-box style musical accompaniment. Menu implementation employed a game engine, and a software development kit allowed direct access to the camera’s functionality, enabling gesture recognition. For example, users’ side-swipe gestures spun the jewelry box (as if interacting with an object in the real world) until a desired function, presented on each facet of the box, was forward facing. Also described are features and settings, designed to ensure safe and effective use of the application, and help maintain user motivation and interest.

Hands-On Russian Culture Lessons

The global diverse society necessitates that teachers develop cultural competency and use authentic resources for teaching. This article presents classroom-tested materials for teaching elementary students about aspects of Russian culture, developed by a native Russian and two education professors. Multiage, multi-racial American Midwestern students from a homeschooling cooperative learned vocabulary and concepts with statistically significant increases from pretest to posttest and a large effect size. The lessons began with recognition of human commonalities between Russian people and Americans, in accordance with omniculturalism theory. Lessons then highlighted and celebrated cultural differences through an exploration of Russian literature and culture. Culminating creative craft-making activities included simulating a Gzhel porcelain statue in white air-dry clay with blue markings, making a pop-up version of a matryoshka nesting doll set, constructing a papier-mache building with onion-domed towers and a Maslenitsa holiday scene, and decorating a paper-covered plastic egg with gems to make a Faberge-style jewelry box. The lessons, greeted with enthusiasm from students, included classification tasks, observation activities, and a Bingo-type game. Students evidenced deeper learning by continuing to connect their lives to Russian cultural content after the lesson unit had concluded.

Spontaneous Firing, and: A House on the Cliff

Spontaneous Firing, and: A House on the Cliff Joel Peckham Jr. (bio) Spontaneous Firing Neuropathy, the doctor says, without expression. The bodyshouting out its false report incessantly. But nothingis really wrong. Like a fire alarm going off becausethe batteries are low. Of course no warning is really false,just late or premature, misheard or heard wrongly. Woodwants to burn and burns and, like a poem, a flamecan leap a long way from its origins. Its logic is its own. Somewhere, someone feels a stabbing in his chest.The breath stops in a crib while parents sleep. Two girlsmake it halfway down the steps, their lungs fullof smoke. Everything burns. And I just feel it. A month ago,down Chellis Road at four in the morning, a house caught fire.It burns still, smolders in the mind's thick peat. If I had notbeen sleeping, I might have seen from my bedroom window, a glowing just beyond the ridge—or maybe heard the shotsthe whole town swears were there amid the pop and blastof glass and falling beams. And maybe they were. For somesay last spring they heard the husband pointed a gun into the air and screamed at the rain—police were called, a warningissued, and then there were the rumors: a troubledmarriage, debt. So when the papers named it "accident,"cause of death, "asphyxia," no one believed. They heard what they heard. And that man was crazy a good friendsays. Anyone could have seen it. Even the ministershakes his head. There has to be a reason. I nod. I knowmore than I'm saying—yes, they're always there—the signs.Like that numbness in your left arm. Is it a pinched nervelike you tell yourself. Or maybe heartburn. Maybe a burning [End Page 57] more distinct. Is it bad wiring in the walls or in the chest?From where and when will the flame leap, the muzzle flash?Our knowledge works only in reverse. Like a poem, likeprophecy. The fire has a logic. And like the body wants to burn. A House on the Cliff At night the ocean shook the cottagelike an angry man will shake the shouldersof a boy, shouting Listen. Listen to me. I've heardit fill me like a sail the way a prophet hearsGod: its harsh refusal to be shut out:a force to be lived with not withstood. There was a house on the cliffside—They fought to save it. First with tiresfilled with stone, poured concrete. Then shovels.Backhoes. Cables at every joist. But one winterstorm spooned out the sand beneath. It slid,in stages, the deck leaning down the dunelike a bather stretching out one long leg to test the water. Then the acrobatic pause—the kitewhen the string snaps or the stunned silencein the stare of the child just stepping offthe curb as the car appears aroundthe corner. The no, not yet clinging onthe diving down and in. I've heard the moanand shriek of nails, crack of wood and glass-shatter. [End Page 58] Still, among the stones and driftwood,sea glass, bones of fish, the remnants whisperin the sand. Broken picture frames,a clock with the face gone—a jewelry box of silt. Joel Peckham Joel Peckham Jr. has published two full-length poetry collections, nightwalking and the heat of what comes (Pecan Grove). His latest chapbook, Movers and Shakers, was recently published by Pudding House Press. His essays and poetry have appeared in many journals, including Black Warrior Review, North American Review, Prairie Schooner, and Southern Review. His poems have also appeared in Contemporary Poetry of New England (UP of New England) and Poets Against the War (Nation P). Copyright © 2011 University of Nebraska Press

A New Mimesis: Unbinding Textual Possibilities in William Carlos Williams’s “Composition”

COMPOSITION, lyric XII from Spring and All (1 923), is one of the more aggressively fragmentary of William Carlos Williams's improvisational lyrics: red box with cloth is lined and with leather It is the sun the table with dinner on for these the same Its twoinch have that convey glue airplanes or for ladies that darn socks clips and red - is the end insects that suck gummed for this is eternity through its discover transparent tissue on a spool But the cardboard with a tin and a ring fasten a trunk for the vacation- (CP1 210-11) best readers of Composition, Peter Schmidt and Marjorie Perloff, argue that the poem is thoroughly antimimetic. red box for has no definable referent in the outside world; the box exists only within the boundaries of the poem. For Schmidt, Composition is antimimetic because is so self-contradictory. [!Infinitely expandable, the box constantly takes on shapes, undercutting and transforming itself (Schmidt 164). These contradictions and transformations destroy the poem's referential power. Perloff's reading is similar, but she grounds her reading in a larger literary-historical argument than does Schmidt. She identifies a countertradition of indeterminacy in modern poetry that begins with Rimbaud and includes the Will iams of the improvisations. of this countertradition are composed of particulars that cannot be specified, of images that refuse cohere in a consistent referential scheme. Indeed, external reference seems peculiarly irrelevant in the case of these poems (Perloff 45). Perloff places Composition squarely within this antimimetic tradition; is the lynchpin of her reading of Williams. poem for her is entirely nonrepresentational: The 'box' is purely the poet's construction. We cannot visualize (128). Her insistence on non representational ity and discursive incoherence leads her pose this analysis of Composition, framed as a series of questions: poem's particulars [ . . . ] refuse cohere. red box turns be hinged with cloth. If is lined inside and out (an odd description for lining usually refers what is inside) not outside, with imitation / leather, how can be made of paper? If its two-inch trays have engineers / that convey glue / airplanes, may have large hinges; if, on the other hand, holds paper clips / and red elastics for old ladies / that darn socks, must be one of those delicate little boxes with tiny compartments and drawers. What is the end, the poet asks, to insects / that suck gummed labels? But how do insects get at these drawers? And what is the dial by means of which we discover/ transparent tissue / on a spool? Perhaps the combination lock of a jewelry box. But then, would a box that contains airplane glue have a lock? Finally, and most confusing, the stars made of round / cardboard / with a tin edge the box or do they decorate its surface? How and why would one fasten them as opposed it (the box) to a trunk / for the vacation? (128) While Schmidt and Perloff place Composition in different literary avant-gardes - Schmidt sees as Dadaist, Perloff as Cubist - both believe that the box has no referent outside the poem. Perloff takes her analysis a step further. Not only does Williams shatter mimesis in Composition, but he replaces with a new verbal construct (Perloff 129). Indeed, Perloff shatters mimesis in order create a verbal construct. abolition of the one enables the creation or revelation of the other. …

Jewelry Box of Morphologies with Mesoscopic Length Scales – ABC Star‐shaped Terpolymers

Among several star molecules studied so far, the results for two similar but slightly different systems composed of all hydrophobic components, i.e. one low T(g) arm and two high T(g) arms were compared and discussed mainly. They are polyisoprene-arm-polystyrene-arm-poly(2-vinylpyridine) stars and polystyrene-arm-polybutadiene-arm-poly(2-vinylpyridine) ones, and are abbreviated as ISP and SBV, respectively, in the original literatures. Several periodic Archimedean tiling patterns can be naturally formed when the relative lengths of three chains are similar one another in both series. Core-shell type morphologies and actually three-phase four layer lamellar structures were also commonly observed for two series. A quasicrystalline tiling with dodecagonal symmetry can also be conformed at the targeted composition of ISP/homopolymer blend and a zinc-blende type structure was created at just a little outside of tiling region for the same blend. Furthermore, the several interesting structures from amphiphilic molecules, composed of a hydrophilic component, poly(ethylene oxide), a hydrophobic component, polymethylmethacrylate and a highly water-repellent polymer poly(perfluoropropyleneoxide) are described and introduced.

What My Patients Taught Me About Love

What My Patients Taught Me About Love

Microscopic and Endoscopic Extracranial Approaches to the Cavernous Sinus: An Anatomical Study

Objective: Surgery of cavernous sinus lesions has always represented a challenge, due to the high anatomical complexity and the importance of the structures contained in this “jewelry box.” In the last decade various extracranial approaches have been described by different authors. The aim of this study was to describe the important anatomical features of each approach and to attempt a comparison between them.

Microscopic and Endoscopic Extracranial Approaches to the Cavernous Sinus: An Anatomical Study

Objective: Surgery of cavernous sinus lesions has always represented a challenge, due to the high anatomical complexity and the importance of the structures contained in this “jewelry box.” In the last decade various extracranial approaches have been described by different authors. The aim of this study was to describe the important anatomical features of each approach and to attempt a comparison between them.

Tautological Crimes: Why Women Can’t Steal Jewels

Max Ophuls's 1953 film de... begins with a close-up of a woman's gloved hands opening a jewelry box and carefully handling its contents. The camera follows her fingers as they visit her exhaustive collection of beautiful things, caressing and evaluating each one. is the nameless (and, at this point, faceless) woman hoping to find? Despite her apparent devotion to these precious possessions, Louise de... is in the process of locating the single object from which she can separate herself most painlessly. As her face appears in the ornate mirror hanging over her jewelry box, she begins to delimit the boundaries of her search. She pronounces that she would rather commit suicide than separate herself from her diamond necklace and that she adores her cross too much to part with it. Although-and possibly because-they were a wedding present from her husband, she settles on a pair of heart-shaped earrings as the precious objects she must sacrifice to pay her debts. She returns them to M. Remy, the jeweler who initially sold them to her husband. Later that evening, she stages a frantic search for the jewels at the opera to allay her husband's suspicions about the missing objects. Her plot is foiled when M. Remy resells the earrings to her husband. The film traces how these previously unwanted jewels move in and out of Louise's life through a series of fortunate and unfortunate coincidences. Later, when they become gifts from her lover and are confiscated by her husband, their value in her eyes increases exponentially; ultimately, she offers M. Remy the expensive clothing and jewels of the beginning scene in exchange for the earrings. While these jewels begin as the most dispensable objects for the heroine, they end up at the center of her and the narrative's lives. As the opening titles read, Madame de... was a very lovely, elegant and adulated woman. It seemed that she could look forward to a serene, uncomplicated life. And probably nothing would have happened were it not for this jewel.... Ophuls's nineteenth-century period piece maps the process through which what Louise desires least is transformed into her most treasured possession. The film suggests that the answer to Freud's famous question What does a woman want? is What she seems to want the least. In what follows, I will trace this formula for female desire to a period in literary history that engaged in public debates on the legal relationship between women and property. Wilkie Collins's The Moonstone (1968) and Anthony Trollope's The Eustace Diamonds (1872) narrate the conflicts emerging around the reform of the married women's property laws beginning in the late 1860s. In response to the anxieties surrounding married women's emerging status as property holders, these novels introduce the narrative tradition of the tautological crime. Through their depiction of woman's overly intimate relationship to her gems and to herself as gem, they figure female ownership as redundant. These narratives deploy a discourse of fakes and

A301「データ宝石箱II」を用いた分散プロセスの可視化

It is important to visualize status of distributed processes for the purpose of management of very large-scale distributed computing systems. This paper proposes the architecture for visualization of distributed processes using "Data Jewelry Box II" algorithm, which is suited to visualize seamless time-varying data. This architecture categorizes a set of processes, and creates hierarchical structure to monitor status of processes by applying "Data Jewelry Box II". Our implementation classifies processes into "assigned process" and "unassigned process", and again classifies the assigned processes according to the instances which processes are assigned. Then, our implementation displays whole of distributed processes in one window, because "Data Jewelry Box II" is suited to visualize large-scale hierarchical data in a small display area.