In Race, Nation and Cultural Power in Film Adaptation, Roberts undertakes the first full-length study of postcolonial, settler-colonial and Indigenous film adaptation, encompassing literary and cinematic texts from Australian, Canadian, New Zealand, Indian, British, and US cultures. A necessary rethinking of adaptation in the context of race and nation, this book interrogates adaptation studies' rejection of 'fidelity criticism' to consider the ethics and aesthetics of translating narratives from literature to cinema and across national borders for circulation in the global cultural marketplace. In this way, Roberts also traces the circulation of cultural power through these adaptations as they move into new contexts and find new audiences, often at a considerable geographical remove from the production of the source material. Further, this book assesses the impact of national and transnational industrial contexts of cultural production on the film adaptations themselves.

The essays collected in "Parallel Encounters" offer close analysis of an array of cultural representations of the Canada-US border, in both site-specificity and in the ways in which they reveal and conceal cultural similarities and differences. Contributors focus on a range of regional sites along the border and examine a rich variety of expressive forms, including poetry, fiction, drama, visual art, television, and cinema produced on both sides of the 49th parallel.

The field of border studies has hitherto neglected the Canada-US border as a site of cultural interest, tending to examine only its role in transnational policy, economic cycles, and legal and political frameworks. Border studies has long been rooted in the US-Mexico divide; shifting the locus of that discussion north to the 49th parallel, the contributors ask what added complications a site-specific analysis of culture at the Canada-US border can bring to the conversation. In so doing, this collection responds to the demands of Hemispheric American Studies to broaden considerations of the significance of American culture to the Americas as a whole--bringing Canadian Studies into dialogue with the dominantly US-centric critical theory in questions of citizenship, globalization, Indigenous mobilization, hemispheric exchange, and transnationalism.

When Canadian authors win prestigious literary prizes, from the Governor General's Literary Award to the Man Booker Prize, they are celebrated not only for their achievements, but also for contributing to this country's cultural capital. Discussions about culture, national identity, and citizenship are particularly complicated when the honorees are immigrants, like Michael Ondaatje, Carol Shields, or Rohinton Mistry. Then there is the case of Yann Martel, who is identified both as Canadian and as rootlessly cosmopolitan. How have these writers' identities been recalibrated in order to claim them as 'representative' Canadians?Prizing Literature is the first extended study of contemporary award winning Canadian literature and the ways in which we celebrate its authors. Gillian Roberts uses theories of hospitality to examine how prize-winning authors are variously received and honoured depending on their citizenship and the extent to which they represent 'Canadianness.' Prizing Literature sheds light on popular and media understandings of what it means to be part of a multicultural nation.

I have written a true account of a relationship and its despicable ending: that almost cost me my life. That there was, indeed, a relationship is patent. The truth is all around me. A great number of points of interest, irregularities and proof are now in the light that were once in the dark. Having shown that, it is understandable to see, why the betrayal was so devastating. And why my trust was so misplaced. There are also in life acknowledged truths: things we will believe without evidence. It is within acceptable limits to presuppose that in a relationship that had spanned almost eight years, that assurances were given and promises were made. I am no author, no writer, no spinner of tales. The desire to record and write down the truth was a lifeline. I wrote my story because I'm trying to reclaim my life: the book is a benchmark of my progress to date. I nearly paid a terrible price. The relationship that dominated my life is over now, and its despicable ending. I have lost someone I thought I could trust unequivocally. I have lost my home, and my job. And my beautiful cat - Cleopatra, I couldn't take her to where I moved to, so I lost even her. I lost my mind for awhile: and I nearly lost my life. Now I have to move forward, and hope that the grief will loosen its hold, and a brighter future will give a better shape back to the world. In his last e-mail to my daughter he said, Today's disagreements will resolve themselves and become yesterday's forgotten problems.' I do hope that he's right. Gillian Roberts September 2008