This book looks at changes to the ways Western culture memorialises the dead. Specifically, it considers the changing relationship between people and domestic animals. Rather than focusing on how these bonds have changed in day to day life, it examines these relationships by considering how, after death, these animals are remembered.
There are numerous scholarly works on Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho (1960). Some of these works have explored its Gothic potentials. However, no detailed effort has yet been made to explore one of its major motifs – taxidermy. Taxidermy as an art of corporeal preservation has effectively been used in mainstream body horror films years after Psycho was released. Yet Psycho was one of the first films to explore its potentials in the Gothic genre at a time when it was relegated to a low form of art. Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho and Taxidermy focuses on taxidermy as a cultural practice in both Victorian and modern times and how it has been employed both metaphorically and literally in Hitchcock's films, especially Psycho. It also situates Psycho as a crucial film in the filmic continuum of body horrors where death and docility share a troubled relationship.
Blumhouse Productions is the first book that systematically examines the corpus of Blumhouse’s cinematic output. Individual chapters written by emerging and established scholars consider thematic trends across Blumhouse films, such as the use of found footage, haunted bodies/haunted houses, and toxic masculinity. Blumhouse’s business strategies and funding model are considered – including the company’s high-profile franchises Paranormal Activity, Insidious, The Purge, Happy Death Day, and Halloween – alongside such key standalone films as Get Out and Black Christmas, and nonhorror films like BlackKklansman. Taken together, the chapters provide a thorough primer for one of the most significant drivers behind the contemporary resurgence of horror cinema.
"Celebrities depend upon fans to sustain their popularity and livelihood, and fans are happy to oblige. With social media, they can follow their favorite (or least favorite) celebrities' every move, and get glimpses into their lives, homes, and behind-the-scenes work. Fans interact with celebrities now more than ever, and often feel that they have a claim on their time, attention, and accountability. In Fame and Fandom: Functioning On and Offline, contributors examine this tumultuous dynamic, and bring together celebrity studies and fan studies like never before. This volume explores the intersections between fan cultures, communities and practices around the globe; as well as the formation and maintenance of celebrity and public personas. It expands knowledge of the fields by examining both online and offline examples. Readers will find new theoretical approaches to fan/celebrity encounters, as well as discussion of parasocial relationships and fan interactions with celebrities. Case studies include Supernatural, Harry Styles, YouTube influencers, film location sites, Keanu Reeves, and celebrities as fans. This volume is ideal for anyone curious about the mutual influences of fame on fandom, and vice versa"--
What role do man-eating monsters - vampires, zombies, werewolves and cannibals - play in contemporary culture? This book explores the question of whether recent representations of humans as food in popular culture characterizes a unique moment in Western cultural history and suggests a new set of attitudes toward people, monsters, and death.
Death, Culture and Leisure: Playing Dead is an inter- and multi-disciplinary volume that engages with the diverse nexuses that exist between death, culture and leisure. At its heart, it is a playful exploration of the way in which we play with both death and the dead.
Examining a spectrum of post-mortem images, this volume considers what death photography communicates about attitudes related to dying, mourning and the afterlife. Focusing on American examples, topics are discussed alongside contemporary representations of death, as seen in celebrity death images and forensic photography.
This book looks at changes to the ways Western culture memorialises the dead. Specifically, it considers the changing relationship between people and domestic animals. Rather than focusing on how these bonds have changed in day to day life, it examines these relationships by considering how, after death, these animals are remembered.
A compassionate, shame-free guide for your darkest days “A one-of-a-kind book . . . to read for yourself or give to a struggling friend or loved one without the fear that depression and suicidal thoughts will be minimized, medicalized or over-spiritualized.”—Kay Warren, cofounder of Saddleback Church What happens when loving Jesus doesn’t cure you of depression, anxiety, or suicidal thoughts? You might be crushed by shame over your mental illness, only to be told by well-meaning Christians to “choose joy” and “pray more.” So you beg God to take away the pain, but nothing eases the ache inside. As darkness lingers and color drains from your world, you’re left wondering if God has abandoned you. You just want a way out. But there’s hope. In I Love Jesus, But I Want to Die, Sarah J. Robinson offers a healthy, practical, and shame-free guide for Christians struggling with mental illness. With unflinching honesty, Sarah shares her story of battling depression and fighting to stay alive despite toxic theology that made her afraid to seek help outside the church. Pairing her own story with scriptural insights, mental health research, and simple practices, Sarah helps you reconnect with the God who is present in our deepest anguish and discover that you are worth everything it takes to get better. Beautifully written and full of hard-won wisdom, I Love Jesus, But I Want to Die offers a path toward a rich, hope-filled life in Christ, even when healing doesn’t look like what you expect.
An award-winning writer explores the patchwork American cultural history of grieving the departed. One family inters their matriarch’s ashes on the floor of the ocean. Another holds a memorial weenie roast each year at a green-burial cemetery. An 1898 ad for embalming fluid promises, “You can make mummies with it!” while a leading contemporary burial vault is touted as impervious to the elements. A grieving mother, 150 years ago, might spend her days tending a garden at her daughter’s grave. Today, she might tend the roadside memorial she erected where her daughter was killed. One mother wears a locket containing her daughter’s hair; the other, a necklace containing her ashes. What happens after someone dies depends on our personal stories and on where those stories fall in a larger tale―that of death in America. It’s a powerful tale that we usually keep hidden from our everyday lives until we have to face it. American Afterlife by Kate Sweeney reveals this world through a collective portrait of Americans past and present who are personally involved with death: obit writers in the desert, an Atlantic funeral voyage, a fourth-generation funeral director―even a midwestern museum that shows us our death-obsessed Victorian progenitors. Each story illuminates details in another, revealing a landscape that feels at once strange and familiar, one that’s by turns odd, tragic, poignant, and sometimes even funny. “Sweeney’s quest for the “why” behind mourning rituals has given us a book in the best tradition of narrative journalism.”—Jessica Handler, author of Braving the Fire: A Guide to Writing about Grief and Loss
