of ‘real’ political-economic growth. Haggard’s elitist romanticism,
then, generates a complex contradiction: ‘the people’ emerge as both the
victim and as the cause of contemporary decline. This gives rise to a fiction in which immense value is invested in the vision of non-reified, nonindustrialised humans, Africans whose production and reproduction
belong to the workings of nature not culture.
Within such a scheme, as I have already argued, the dynamics of sexual
reproduction serve ideologically to naturalise economic production. For
Haggard it is axiomatic that
-determination, sovereignty and
racial equality. Significantly, however, whereas Western
liberal-democratic thought was founded principally upon
rational individualism as found in the political theories of
Thomas Hobbes (1588–1679) and John Locke (1632–1704),
African nationalism, emphasizing the putative solidarity
of rapidly-forming, self-conscious, African national collectivities, had much greater affinity to the romanticism of
Jean-Jacques Rousseau (1712–78). Consequently ‘African
democracy’ soon came to resemble more the ‘people’s democracies’ of the communist world than Western
concerns a shift in understanding about the nature of language itself. For German
Romanticism, the semantic indeterminacy of Shakespeare is directly linked to the
emergence of a new native ‘literary language’ which cannot be subsumed under existing rules, as, beyond the systematic endeavours of modern philology to establish a
science of language, ‘literature becomes the realm of language which arises for its own
sake and is not bound to representation’ or to descriptive analysis.24
In the same tradition, a more explicitly philosophical justification for reading
The cartographic consciousness of Irish gothic fiction
frequent reference to underground Inquisition torture chambers and nuns immured behind convent walls, see Richard Hamblyn, ‘Notes from underground: Lisbon after the earthquake’, Romanticism , 14.2 (2008), 113–16.
On the ‘binary, symmetrical oppositions between the familiar and the foreign’ in eighteenth-century British travel writing, see Chloe Chard, Pleasure and guilt on the Grand Tour: travel writing and imaginative geography
mainstream middle-class mores
which promote heterosexual normativity and heterosexual marriage and
restrict female sexuality. Hence, a mode of anti-romanticism that values
sexuality and sexual practices without emotional bonds, with multiple
partners, and that celebrates female sexual assertiveness dominates.
Furthermore, anti-romanticism is displayed by openly discussing
practices that may seem taboo in the Mainstream. In an unexpected twist,
this style of sexual gossip then enables a misogynist, homosocial dynamic
Authority: The Uses of
Cliché (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2006).
11 Gilles Deleuze, ‘The exhausted’, in Essays Critical and Clinical
(Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1997), p. 152.
12 Jean-Paul Sartre, Nausea, trans. Robert Baldick (Harmondsworth:
Penguin,  1972), p. 185; La Nausée (Paris: Livre de Poche,
1968), p. 182.
13 Beckett, Molloy, pp. 64–9. See also the remarkable article by Denise
Gigante, ‘The endgame of taste: Keats, Sartre, Beckett’, in Timothy
Morton (ed.), Cultures of Taste / Theories of Appetite: Eating Romanticism
not only extends the possibilities we have for
vision, for imaging, but, in doing so, oﬀers us, as its primary content, the beautiful.
The blind Montesquieu, then, is denied beauty, denied ‘imaging otherwise’ or, simply,
imagination and ‘youth’.
Montesquieu’s thesis in his Essay starts from the proposition that we are always
hungry for experience: growing and developing, we want to see as much as possible,
to extend our view as far as possible (or even as far as impossible; into what we would
now – post-Romanticism – term the imagination). We are never at rest
century romanticism and Realpolitik’ (2009 : 62).
Despite the fact that Kanitz refused to take sides, his insights and actions,
network of contacts and finally the knowledge he produced as well as
the reception of that knowledge were all influenced by ‘geography’, or,
more precisely, the geopolitical situation in which he found himself.
Felix Kanitz’s Balkan network
The roots of Kanitz’s world view, and hence the foundations of the
knowledge he created, could be found in the period when he was still
learning the craft of engraving and illustration in Vincenz
wistful francophilia and his conviction that life had dealt him a rotten
hand. It may be that the script is better than any film of it could have
been at the time. Today Hamer’s doom-laden romanticism might come
through unscathed, but in 1950s Britain some crass happy ending would
surely have been imposed.
The script is adapted from a French play,
L’Âme en peine by Jean-Jacques Bernard. At its heart
recurrently found herself wondering whether the detective felt attracted to her: a show of aﬀect which
nods knowingly towards the romanticism of the mass-market photo-roman.
Contrary to the scripts and scenarios of the photo-roman, however, there is
never any question in La Filature of wanting actually to meet the man. The
experience of feeling a ‘personal’ connection with him, to the point where
the day in question is described by Calle with hollow poignancy as ‘notre
journée’ (p. ) (our day), is a product of the experiment, an ‘experimental experience’, which, as such