For the Victorians, electricity was the science of spectacle and of wonder. It provided them with new ways of probing the nature of reality and understanding themselves. Luigi Galvani's discovery of 'animal electricity' at the end of the eighteenth century opened up a whole new world of possibilities, in which electricity could cure sickness, restore sexual potency and even raise the dead. In Shocking Bodies, Iwan Rhys Morus explores how the Victorians thought about electricity, and how they tried to use its intimate and corporeal force to answer fundamental questions about life and death. Some even believed that electricity was life, which brought into question the existence of the soul, and of God, and provided arguments in favour of political radicalism. This is the story of how electricity emerged as a powerful new tool for making sense of our bodies and the world around us.

"Twirling figures, gloved hands clasped, the strains of the violin..." These words from the first essay in this delightful book could be describing an eighteenth-century minuet performed by aristocratic guests at a Versailles ball, a nineteenth-century cotillion of white-gowned debutantes in new York, or a stylish moment created on the silver screen by Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. The steps and the music and the dresses may vary, but the exciting and elegant sight of society enjoying itself on the dance floor has persisted through the ages. In this book, published to coincide with an exhibition held at the Costume Institute of the Metropolitan Museum of Art under the direction of Diana Vreeland, four authors look at the subject of social dancing from four different points of view. Carol McD. Wallace surveys the great balls and dancing parties of Europe, England, and America from the eighteenth century to the present, while Don McDonagh describes the dance steps themselves, from the early basse danze of Italy to the twist of modern-day America. Jean Druesedow, associate curator in charge of the Costume Institute, discusses the evolution of the ball gown and other costumes designed for dancing, and Laurence Libin, curator of musical instruments, assisted by Constance Old, analyzes the way in which dance has been depicted in works of art through the centuries. Illustrated with paintings, works of decorative art, contemporary prints and photographs, these lively essays re-create the rhythmic energy, the social proprieties, the colorful costumes and anecdotes of dances and dancers past and present. -- from dust jacket.

“Winning [and] intelligent. . . . [An] impressive, often heartening addition to the literature of aging.” — Heller McAlpin, Wall Street Journal In this “unique blend of memoir and literary commentary” (Bookpage), acclaimed author and literary scholar Susan Gubar contemplates the beauty and strength of enduring love—both for her husband and for the literature that has shaped her life. Throughout the complications of devoted caregiving, her own ongoing cancer treatments, and a stressful move to a more manageable apartment, Gubar proves that love and desire have no expiration date—on the page or in life. Late-Life Love offers a resounding retort to ageist stereotypes, appraises the obstacles unique to senior couples, and celebrates second chances.

Have you ever wondered why there are so many "dumb blonde" jokes--always about women? Or how Ivanhoe's childhood love, the"flaxen Saxon" Rowena, morphed into Marilyn Monroe? Between that season in 1847 when readers encountered Becky Sharp playing the vengeful Clytemnestra--about to plunge a dagger into Agamemnon--and the sunny moment in 1932 when moviegoers watched Clark Gable plunge Jean Harlow's platinum-tressed head into a rain barrel, the playing field for women and men had leveled considerably. But how did the fairy-tale blonde, that placid, pliant girl, become the "tomato upstair," as Monroe styled herself in The Seven Year Itch? In I'm No Angel: The Blonde in Fiction and Film, Ellen Tremper shows how, at its roots, the image of the blonde was remodeled by women writers in the nineteenth century and actors in the twentieth to keep pace with the changes in real women's lives. As she demonstrates, through these novels and performances, fair hair and its traditional attributes--patience, pliancy, endurance, and innocence--suffered a deliberate alienation, which both reflected and enhanced women's personal and social freedoms essential to the evolution of modernity. From fiction to film, the active, desiring, and sometimes difficult women who disobeyed, manipulated, and thwarted their fellow characters mimicked and furthered women's growing power in the world. The author concludes with an overview of the various roles of the blonde in film from the 1960s to the present and speculates about the possible end of blond dominance. An engaging and lively read, I'm No Angel will appeal to a general audience interested in literary and cinematic representations of the blonde, as well as to scholars in Victorian, women's, and film studies.

In Jane Austen and Representations of Regency England, Roger Sales looks at Jane Austen's entire oeuve, and views her historically as a Regency writer voicing concerns on the condition of England. Examining Austen's literary works; her letters - in the context of those of other Regency women; as well as contemporary texts such as television adaptations of her work, Jane Austen and Representations of Regency England reconstructs the breadth of Jane Austen's writing. It also examines: * her representations of dandyism and masculine identities * the events of the Regency crisis of 1810-12 * the way in which Austen engaged in topical debates such as healthcare in both Emma and Persuasion.