End Of Journey Research Articles

Minding the Wheel: Representations of Women's Time in Victorian Narrative

Minding the Wheel: Representations ofWomen's Time in Victorian Narrative Elizabeth Campbell Oregon State University In this round world of many circles within circles, do we make a weary journey from the high grade to the low, to find at last that they lie close together, that the two extremes touch, and that our journey's end is but our starting-place? Charles Dickens Dombey and Son (495-96; ch. 34) We shall not cease from exploration And the end of all our exploring Will be to arrive where we started And know the place for the first time. T. S. Eliot "Little Gidding" (lines 239-42) Of the many sweeping changes the Industrial Revolution brought to England, one rather small, but nonetheless interesting change was the re-invention of the wheel in Victorian iconography. Primarily becoming a potent symbol for speed and power, the wheel served as a highly appropriate metonym to suggest the accelerated motion of steam-powered trains and machinery—as well as to represent the new glut of urban traffic and of wheeled conveyances in general. By 1871, as Gustave Dore's Ludgate Hill suggests, Victorian London— and by implication, the modern city in general—had come to be defined by its wheels, whether horse-drawn or steam-powered. In the first half of the century, the wheels of trains had already been inserted into Biblical typology. As John Francis noted in A History of the English Railway (1851), the British obsession with the new railway system caused ministers to reinterpret Ezekial's vision as a prophecy of the nineteenth-century changes brought about by steamed locomotion—moving swiftly and powerfully to the farthest corners of England on "the chariot wheels of the Fire King" (139, 147). The many wheels on display at The Great Exhibition in 1851, 45 46Rocky Mountain Review as recorded in the Official Catalogue, further attest to their inextricable association with mid-century faith in "the progress of the human race." They were the means to the end that the Exhibition promoted, according to its royal patron Prince Albert: "we are accomplishing the will of the great and blessed God" (Gibbs-Smith 26). And all these métonymie and metaphorical wheels underlie Dickens' more fanciful and typically shorthand recording of the London inner city in 1852 as a Pantagruelian toy wheel: "the great tee-totum . . . set up for its daily spin and whirl" (Bleak House 275; ch. 16). In more prosaic economic terms, chapter 4 ("Competition") of Engels' The Condition of the Working Class in England serves as a telling example of the Victorian wheel moving from metonym to metaphor. Wheels serve as a motif throughout the chapter to denote a new industrial age, characterized by "a great deal of wheeled traffic " (97); by "the wheels of industry" that metaphorically stand for the new steam-powered "factory wheels" (96, 102); and by the metonymical use of all the above examples to underscore Engels' theory of the English industrial trade cycle as "a continuous series of cycles of boom and slump" (97). In strictly economic terms, the wheel conveniently (and metonymically) denoted the power necessary for operating machines, just as it provided a convenient symbol for the newly created industrial rhythm of life. The wheels and cycles of industry defined a new economic theorem that affected nineteenth -century time more directly than the cycles of seasons or the wheel of the stars—thereby creating a new order of time and being that couched "felt" time almost entirely in economic terms. But the iconographie wheel also carried with it vestiges ofits classical and presumably pagan metaphorical significations. The frequent appearance ofFortune's wheel in Hogarth's engravings and in Fielding's Tom Jones suggests that the goddess and her symbol continued to be a composite, salient feature of the British imagination through the eighteenth century and into the Regency. In engravings like the Benefit Ticket for Spiller (ca. 1720), The South Sea Scheme (1721), and The Lottery (1724), Hogarth had depicted Fortune standing on her wheel or prostrate upon it, suggesting its association with a wheel of torture or a merry-go-round of chance and speculation (Paulson 68, 74-75, 122). Fielding appropriated...

Address by the President. Actuarial highways

AbstractThe Address is a journey in three parts. The first part describes the world scene in the last century when the Institute was founded and traces the development of actuarial work to the present day. The current U.K. pension scene is then broadly reviewed and the journey ends with vistas of the future. The concentration of actuarial work towards life assurance and pensions is attributed to meeting the needs of the past and encouragement is given to the urgent extension of the work of the profession into wider fields.The U.K. pension scene is described as being complex, confused and filled with uncertainty. The profession is urged to assist government actively and positively, to examine the expected future growth of pension funds, and to compare the financing of retirement benefits in the U.K. with other methods adopted in Europe.Work in wider fields is envisaged as embracing general insurance, the health and care of the aged, banking and finance, and the appraisal of capital projects.

William Morris and 'News from Nowhere': A Vision for Our Time.

Introduction - Utopia today, S.Coleman biographical essay - who was William Morris?, P.O'Sullivan a synopsis of News from Nowhere, C.Slapper the feast's beginning - Nowhere and the Utopian tradition, C.Hampton how the change came - revolution in Nowhere, J.Crump how things are managed - human nature in Nowhere, S.Coleman concerning love - News from Nowhere & Gender, J.Marsh the obstinate refusers - work in News from Nowhere, R.Watkinson an old house amongst new folk - William Morris as designer, C.Ward the Hammersmith guesthouse again - the Architecture of Nowhere, M.Pearson a market by the way - economics of Nowhere, A.Buick the journey's end - William Morris, news from nowhere and ecology, P.O'Sullivan.

Dispersal by macroalgae

Seaweed dispersal is discussed in relation to the properties of the propagules, the parent plant and the water motion. The magnitude of water flow velocities is overwhelmingly important. Even motile propagules have little control over their destiny. The fate of both liberated propagules and drifting plants is discussed in relation to dispersal distance and the likelihood of successful colonization at journey's end. Analogies are drawn between the dispersion and drift of algal propagules and that of smoke particles and fungal spores. The fecundity of the parent plant, the point and mode of propagule release are also influential. Many larger plants have release mechanisms that limit rather than enhance dissemination. Moreover, contrary to accepted dogma, invertebrates that consume or transport spores also tend to limit rather than extend dispersal range. The relative merits of local consolidation vs. widespread dispersal are discussed.

Norton Batkin'sPhotography and Philosophy

Abstract Norton Batkin's Photography and Philosophy was once a Harvard dissertation, accepted in 1981. It is unlike anything else published on the history of the medium, and wiil be of the utmost interest to anyone who has ever been troubled by ‘photography history’. Anyone who makes the effort is likely to emerge the more troubled, but all to the good. The last of its six sections is on some of the photography of Paul Strand, and that warrants close attention. The Strand analyses, though, seem to be in the nature of a reward, attractive and digestible, for those who have made the journey. The preceding five sections invite comparison with Wittgenstein's linguistic analyses, and sometimes with the prose pieces of Samuel Beckett. They are written with declared circumspection, and invite the same. At journey's end a careful and persevering strident will take a sceptical view of what has so far passed for photography history.

Something for Nothing: The Law of Adverse Possession in Alberta

This paper is the winner of this year's William Morrow Essay competition. It traces the origin and evolution of the law of adverse possession. Petersson commences with a thorough overview of the current status of adverse possession in Canada. The reader is then transported back in time to medieval England to bear witness as historical forces forge the law into twin principles of extinction and acquisition. From the regal court of Henry II, the reader is then whisked to the humble offices of the Registrar of Land Titles as the paper guides one through modern property law relating to adverse possession. The journey ends with an enlightening discussion of the justifications for, and future of, adverse possession in Alberta.

"Guarded with Fragments": Body and Discourse in "Rasselas"

Boswell's compelling account of the circumstances which produced inevitably enters readings of the text. Boswell tells us wrote it, that with the profits he might defray the expence of his mother's funeral . . . composed it in the evenings of one week, sent it to the press in portions as it was written, and had never since read it over.1 Critics have used this biographical information to explain and to problematize Johnson's straightforward yet complex tale. For Irvin Ehrenpreis, one possible reading of the text is as concealed autobiography in which Johnson rewrites his Lichfield childhood as the Happy Valley, and his solitary trials in London as the outside Abissinia (I use Johnson's spelling). T. F. Wharton bases his interpretation on the fact that As his mother lay dying, Johnson produced . . . a description of a valley which is extraordinarily womblike and argues that Rasselas's from the Happy Valley may be seen as a kind of escape from the womb. Carey McIntosh implies a similar reading when he says that Rasselas contriving his escape from the Happy Valley is a human being struggling to be born.2 These readings are highly suggestive in connecting the dying maternal body to themes and forms in Rasselas, but they generally omit two related aspects: that is, the way the Happy Valley as maternal body figures in subsequent considerations of gender and discourse in the text, and how the departure (whether seen as journey or flight or escape) for both and affects the way experience is construed by characters and narrator. I argue that leaving the Happy Valley (the womb) produces both gender differentiation and entry into discourse, that what Thomas Laqueur calls the one-sex model changes to sexual differentiation, and seemingly monologic discourse to dialogized heteroglossia-to, in other words, a conscious representation of alternative and competing discourses.3 I conclude, however, that both these irruptions are denied or at least cast into less disruptive modes by the end of the text's journey. If, as Wharton points out, the Happy Valley is figured as a womb, it is not merely a nurturing, or even an over-protective one. It is, rather, a sexualized (rather than reassuringly maternal) female body, and its sexuality is forbidding, dangerous, and exclusionary.4 The only entrance (or exit) is concealed by a thick wood . . . closed with gates of iron . . . so massy that

Journey's beginning and end.

Journey's beginning and end.

Fiction and Aging: “Ripeness is All”

ABSTRACTIn response to recent claims for the role of the humanities in understanding aging, this paper identifies certain works of fiction which illustrate and dramatize such concepts as life review and integrity. In its consideration of novels by Muriel Spark, Tillie Olsen, Margaret Laurence, and Jessica Anderson, the essay argues that complex fiction about old persons refuses to over-simplify or sentimentalize the problems of aging but often finds poetic and symbolic means of affirming the positive values of life review and spiritual growth at the end of life's journey.

Hostage to Fortune: Time, Chance, and Laurence Sterne

Less than ten years after Sterne published the ninth and final volume of his novel, Samuel Johnson asserted, Nothing odd will do long. Tristram Shandy did not last.1 The judgment doubtless seems as odd to us today as the novel did to him and his contemporaries. But let others grasp the nettles of Johnson's displeasure and reexamine the grounds of his critical assumptions. As for Sterne's eccentricities, these will no longer be troublesome as such to generations of readers brought up on interiorized explorations by modern novelists. Tristram Shandy continues to encourage analytical study because of its structural and esthetic inventiveness.2 The novel as Sterne conceived it set new directions, probing ways in which conscious and subconscious time contribute to an understanding of human nature, and of ways also in which life is shaped by chance. Tristram himself, the engaging hero manque, stumbles through days and nights in an unpatterned movement of transverse zigzaggery.3 As the central figure of this autobiography, he is vulnerable to countless accidents, interruptions, and digressions; moreover, everyone whose life touches upon his appears to be at risk. The span from birth to death creates an illusion of disorientation as the prevailing reality. Existence, never quite in focus, appears to be made up of uncontrolled events and meetings within a nonsequential time frame. As the narrator sets forth a rationale for his storytelling scheme: Could a historiographer drive on his history, as a muleteer drives on his mule,-straight forward . . . he might venture to foretell you to an hour when he should get to his journey's end;-but the thing is, morally speaking, impossible: For, if he is a man of the least spirit, he will have fifty

Long Lasting Sitting Position and Haemostasis

Blood coagulation, fibrinolysis and platelet aggregability were assessed in 8 physicians aged 30-40 years, who had travelled non-stop by car from Salonica to Athens (510 km) and returned to Salonica after 48 h of rest and after administration of 1 g of aspirin. At the end of journey A, platelet aggregability was found to be increased (6 out of 8 persons), AT III was decreased by 30% (p less than 0.001), the F VIII:C / F VIIIR: Ag ratio was decreased (p less than 0.02) and ELT was prolonged. At the end of journey B the findings were the following: platelet aggregation was not affected, the decrease of AT III was not statistically significant and ELT was significantly shortened (p less than 0.005). A common finding of both journeys was the increase of platelet counts at the end (p less than 0.005). The correlation between long lasting sitting and the response of the haemostatic balance is suggested. The influence of aspirin is discussed.

Dickens and Women by Michael Slater (review)

86Rocky Mountain Review even more inaccessible" (86). In discussing How It Is, he relies on Paul Ricoeur's tenet that metaphor is in itself a discontinuity and that in its discontinuity lies its productive agency. It becomes really a matter of predication (a favorite Singer word) and production served out of difference rather than resemblance. The binding element to the three chapters devoted to these three novels is that metaphor and catachresis are disruptive, discontinuous, and hence productive of meaning in their own right. They may also symbolize authorial presence and freedom or set their own rules for textual coherence. Two chapters elaborating on these possibilities precede the chapters on the novels. Relying upon the likes of Lacan, Ricoeur, Derrida, and de Man, and sweeping away the likes of Booth, Lodge, and Freedman, Singer makes his allegiances clear. But the jungle of Singer's own verbal exorbitance is a thick one indeed (perhaps in this way he is metatextualizing on his own and thus practicing what he preaches). And, quite frankly, I am not certain if there is a temple of gold to be found at the journey's end. But for those who can appreciate the journey as a worthwhile reward, then Singer's text should work. It is a text which makes a rigorous attempt to muscle for elbow room and to position itself as a progenitive stepchild capable of surviving on its own. JAMES L. MARRA Texas Tech University MICHAEL SLATER. Dickens and Women. Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1983. 465 p. For the reader who has usually found greater realism, more psychological depth, and stronger interest in Dorothea Brooke, Gwendolen Harleth, Margaret Hale, Lucy Snowe, and Becky Sharp, and would like to be convinced that such women also exist in Dickens, Michael Slater's book will be a disappointment. Except in the case of David Copperfield's Dora, where Slater points out subtleties often overlooked, this eminent Dickens scholar affirms the often noted limitations in the attitudes of"our Shakespeare of the novel," to use Slater's own introductory phrase (xii). Thus, Dickens, despite his promotion of the domestic ideal, has difficulty depicting strong and positive mother-child relationships (because, Slater says, of his own mother's willingness that he remain in the blacking factory even after it ceased to be necessary to the family fortunes). And, Dickens was especially fond of illustrating the domestic ideal through a brother-sister relationship, preferring the idea of an innocent marriage of children perhaps, Slater suggests, because he had problems accepting the sexual nature of adult relationships (sometimes Dickens mixes the two, however, and Slater comments wryly on the sexual overtones in the Ruth and Tom Pinch relationship). And again, Dickens is apprehensive of strong, passionate women, tending to turn them into comic characters of the Mrs. Jellyby and Mrs. Pardiggle sort, which infuriated feminist thinkers like John Stuart Mill, or to make them victim-villains, like Louisa Gradgrind, Lady Dedlock, or Edith Dombey. These and other clichés about Dickens and his women characters are true. And yet, while affirming their content, Slater's book removes the statements Book Reviews87 from the realm of cliché by providing a context in which the reader comes to understand better both writer and his writings. Likewise, in the section on the actual women in Dickens' life, Slater, in his detached and careful scholarship and his avoidance of sensationalism and vague speculation, leads the reader to an understanding of Dickens rather than a condemnation, even in the case of Dickens' treatment of his wife, which seems to have been rather shabby. The book is divided into three main sections. The first, "Experience and Art," explores Dickens' relationships with women in his life, starting with his mother and ending with Ellen Ternan; this section, which includes salient references to the stories and novels, is the longest, taking up over half the book. The second section, "The Women of the Novels," divided into three chapters, works chronologically through Dickens' fiction. "Dickens and Woman," the third section, consists of a single long chapter titled "The Womanly Ideal." The first and third sections are the most engaging and useful. The first provides an overview of all the...

Railways, Hotels, and Tourism in Great Britain 1839-1914

The original purpose of the development of railways in Britain was for the carriage of heavy freight, above all coal. Though passengers were conveyed in horse-drawn coaches on one or two of them, that was an insignificant part of their business. The Stockton & Darlington Railway, opened in 1825, provided for the regular carriage of passengers too, somewhat more extensively; but it kept its steam locomotives for the coal traffic, leaving the coaches still to be hauled by horses. It was the Liverpool & Manchester Railway, opened in 1830, that first surprised the world (and itself also) by its immediate success in transporting passengers on a really large scale. In the first year of operation, it carried four times as many passengers as could have been conveyed by all the coaches between the two cities, if every place in them had been taken.' This was not the experience of one company alone. Over the next twenty years the same was true of nearly all the larger railways in Britain. It was not until 1852 that the receipts from freight traffic in the United Kingdom surpassed those from passengers. By that time, the railways had driven the horse-drawn coaches off all the principal trunk roads in England, as well as most of those in Wales and Scotland. They did so because their charges were lower, their services quicker and more frequent. The new means of travel was generally though not universally admired and approved of, but it raised some difficulties, which the railways had to take into account. One merit of the coach, for many of its passengers, had been that it started out from a well-known inn at the centre of a town, called at others on its way, and arrived at another at its journey's end. Those inns might be good or bad (there was a discordant chorus of opinion on that matter), but they were all centrally placed, convenient both for passengers and their

Adventuresome Women on the Oregon Trail: 1840-1867

From 1840 to 1867 approximately 350,000 women, children, and men trekked across the American continent to Oregon. Most historians have considered this emigration a male-oriented project; women's participation, they have suggested by omission or outright assertion, held importance only in relation to the activities and goals of men. Women on the Oregon Trail have been portrayed as reluctant but long-suffering and obedient wives and daughters of ambitious male travelers. This image of the pioneer woman has taken several romantic turns, but the stereotypical elements of passive bravery, quiet endurance, sadness, regret, and fear have never been erased. In 1846, Francis Parkman wrote that were divided between regrets for the homes they had left and fear of the deserts and savages before them.2 Seventy-five years later Emerson Hough idealized the westward-bound pioneer woman as the chief figure of the American West, the figure of the ages ... the gaunt and sad-faced woman sitting on the front seat of the wagon, following her lord where he might lead.3 Eva Emery Dye asserted that was Oregon's Amazonian age but the Amazons were quiet, patient Christian women. They never dreamed of being heroes, they only tried to do their duty.4 Though women seem to gain more heroic credit as time passes, little mention is made of their active participation; implicitly, women's achievements were quite by accident. Recent scholarship has corrected the misimpression of women's invisibility on the Oregon Trail, but the stereotypes of passivity and fear have changed little. Julie Roy Jeffrey has argued that women dearly missed home life and only sought to recapture it at the journey's end.5 John Mack Faragher and Christine Stansell have also asserted that women felt essentially out of place, and that they strove to maintain or recreate their female sphere.6 Though these historians present accurate pictures of hardworking women, their conclusions deny the importance of this participation. They argue that lacked a sense of inclusion ... ; no augmented sense of self or role emerged from augmented privation.' Women are viewed, even in some of these recent histories, as followers; their involvement on the Oregon Trail is portrayed as involuntary and secondary. In short, the Oregon Trail was no place for women. This paper will present an entirely different point of view. Among the hundreds of Oregon Trail accounts read for this study can be found countless examples of women's enthusiastic, self-confirming experiences on that journey. Women did write about their belief in domesticity, their fear of the wilderness, and their frustration with trail life; but they also recorded their experiences as leaders, writers, scientists, artists, and explorers. This paper will balance the historical account by highlighting women's experiences of personal growth, enthusiasm, happiness, and purpose on the Oregon Trail. It will show how these positive experiences affected their lives and prove that there was indeed a place for women on the Oregon Trail.

A.D. Hope’s Latter-Day Ulysses: ‘The End of a Journey’ and the Literary Background

Attention to the detail, the overall structure and the literary background of 'The End of a Journey', the first work in Hope's Collected Poems, clarifies the tone and feeling of the poem, its sense of disillusionment, alienation and waste; it reveals more clearly what criticism has tended to assert about its ironic mode; and it throws light on Hope's handling of myth, while suggesting something of the inner logic of the Hope-canon.

Early Development of an "Acoustic Analogy" Approach to Aeroacoustic Theory

I is a special pleasure to contribute with this brief historical paper to AIAA's celebrations of its 50th anniversary. I am, also, particularly glad that the paper gives me an opportunity to commemorate the energy and vision shown in 1949 by the late H. B. Irving, in his then position as Assistant Director of Scientific Research (Air) within Britain's government machine. Part of his job was to think about the future of aeronautics, with the object of identifying serious problems likely to arise as part of that future; and to draw attention to new research fields that needed to be opened up without delay if timely solutions to those problems were to be found. Remarkable vision was shown by Irving in recognizing so clearly, as early as 1949, that jet engines were bound to cause severe noise problems when (as must ultimately happen) they penetrated the civil transport market. This may have made him the first person in the world to identify research on jet noise and means for its reduction as a major new field of research to which effort urgently needed to be devoted. Great energy, too, was shown by Irving when he followed up that insight by a vigorous campaign waged with the object of setting up substantial research groups in this field within British university institutions. These groups (supported, where necessary, by contributions from the modest funds at Irving's disposal) were invited to pursue basic experimental and theoretical studies of the noise of jets; studies that might be usefully complementary to a large-scale program of empirical studies of jet-engine noise and schemes for its reduction initiated at Rolls Royce Ltd. Irving ensured, too, that the university groups created in this way (especially, the group including G. M. Lilley at the College of Aeronautics in Cranfield, the University of Southampton group that included E. J. Richards and A. Powell, and the University of Manchester group including myself on the theoretical side and J. H. Gerrard on the experimental side) would all take part together in frequent meetings with the outstanding Rolls Royce team under the leadership of F. B. Greatrex. These regular meetings very powerfully influenced the progress of the research work. I remember this in my own case: as the participant mainly concerned with developing theoretical approaches, I was helped by constant contact with several growing bodies of experimental data to adopt the necessary critical and selective approach to my own growing collection of theoretical ideas. The only Satisfactory theories are those that simultaneously accord with empirical data and with scientific logic!—a formidable pair of requirements. I recall Irving coming up to my attic room in the deeply blackened old Owens College building (since revealed by modern stone-cleaning technology as a charming blend of light brown and blue shades!) at Manchester University. In 1949, I was a 25-year-old Senior Lecturer in Applied Mathematics, already copiously involved in compressibleflow theory (especially, high-speed aerodynamics and shockwave dynamics). Somehow, Irving convinced me that jet noise was an exceptionally exciting theoretical challenge. I recognized that a jet was one of the classical turbulent flows, characterized to be sure by a complex pattern of vorticity; but not (according to views then current) by any dilatation. Compressibility had not been regarded hitherto as a significant factor in vortex motions or turbulence; yet it must be playing a part if any radiated sound were to result. Next morning I had to go to London, which in 1949 necessitated a four-hour train journey. Once in the train J could not stop thinking about the j£t-noise conundrum. It is, furthermore, the literal truth that the only piece of paper I had on me was the proverbial back of an envelope'M How fortunate that was. Sitting in the impersonal confines of the railway compartment, after having awakened that morning still more clearly conscious of what an exceptionally exciting theoretical problem in mechanics of fluids had been put to me, I had four hours to think about it while prevented from succumbing to the theoretician's besetting weakness; namely, rushing into filling sheets of paper with endless equations.... The essential idea of the acoustic analogy approach came before my journey's end. Iremember that the first part of the journey was entirely devoted to considering what would be the appropriate dependent variable in a system of equations to describe jet noise. I had found in many problems of compressible flow that the key to producing tractable equations was the correct choice of dependent variable. Often the pressure was an optimum choice (for example, in the aerodynamics of disturbances to a nonuniform oncoming stream). However, I soon decided against use of the pressure,

Mathematical models of the uptake of carbon monoxide on hemoglobin at low carbon monoxide levels.

Coburn's differential equation for the uptake of carbon monoxide by hemoglobin and two particular types of solution of this equation were considered and the solutions verified for a group of healthy adults consisting of 73 nonsmoking pedestrians or car passengers exposed to low levels of carbon monoxide as experienced in the city of Lyon. The CO levels at the breathing level and the walking speed of the subjects was continually measured, and the carboxyhemoglobin levels determined at the beginning and the end of each test journey. The values of all the other relevant parameters were also determined. The half-life of carboxyhemoglobin was studied as a function of the degree of activity, the age, the sex and the height of the subjects. Finally a mathematical model was set up to represent a periodic uptake of CO which made it possible to estimate the variations in the carboxyhemoglobin level for any subject during a period of a day or a week without any need to know the initial level.

Marriage and Contemporary Fiction

Marriage, in fiction even more than in life, has been the woman's adventure, the object of her quest, her journey's end. Contemporary fiction modulates the formula in one respect: the abandonment of marriage replaces the achievement of it. While it is obvious what these fictional women detest in marriage, it is not always clear what they desire. How, indeed, might clarity be expected about an institution whose success depends so much upon woman's failure at autonomy? So the women split: Kinflicks, Small Changes, The Women's Room, Loose Ends, The Oracle-these are merely representative of a long list. is new in these books is that we are seeing marriage at all-seeing it, moreover, from a woman's point of view. What about Norm? the narrator asks in The Women's Room; Who is he, this shadow man, this figurehead husband?' In fact, who Norm is, who all the husbands are, is clear: those who need someone to take care of their domestic, cooking, cleaning, sexual, breeding needs while they are out attending to civilization and their own appreciation of life. Even the least intelligent husbands realize (and some of the most intelligent believe) that a change in marriage profound enough to satisfy the fleeing wives would profoundly alter the foundation of that conservative community, the family. Freud had urged women not to interfere with man in his pursuit of civilization; and this is the way it is, the way men want it to be. Some earlier women writers stated succinctly what they wanted: a

Adolescent drug abuse: Search for a treatment model

Summary We have tried to define in this paper what we feel are the necessary ingredients in treating the adolescent drug abuser and have tried putting the idea of a “therapeutic community” within a theoretical framework for treating a specific population. We defined what problems we felt needed to be provided for if one considered the issue of adolescent drug abuse without a treatment model in mind. We offered guidelines in providing for these problems and tried to give a general picture of the major diffculties in working within this kind of model. Not all the problems have been solved by us, and we have tried to clearly show where we find paradoxes and unsolvable problems. We have described some of what it is like to struggle with the problems of normal parenting of adolescents, with providing a medium in which ego defects can be repaired, and with providing a forum where internal psychological conflicts can be resolved. We have shown how we have constantly to keep in mind our own unconscious and conscious needs and the difficulties encountered in trying to do so. Our search continues to be one for a model that offers the moet effective form of treatment to the patient and that also makes our work more gratifying, our intimacies more pleasurable, and our struggles less painful. The task of our staff is this constant search, with its joy and anguish for a utopian goal that can probably never be reached. We are reminded again and again that the rewards and successes are in the search itself, but they can only be seen when we take our eyes off the distant horizon where they keep futilely seeking the journey's end.

“Che” Guevara: Some Documentary Puzzles at the End of a Long Journey

On December 9, 1964, Ernesto Guevara de la Serna, Cuban Minister of Industries and the most powerful man in Cuba under the Castro brothers, flew from Havana to New York to address the United Nations. He lashed at the United States and predicted continental revolution, “That wave of heightening fury, of just demands, of rights that have been flouted, is rising throughout Latin America, and no one can stop that tide.” From New York Guevara flew to Algiers, and thus began a trek that would take him to countries in Africa, Europe and Asia. For three months Guevara traveled, talking to leaders of nations, preaching revolution and communism wherever he went.