Drawing together the insights of postcolonial scholarship and cultural studies, Popular Postcolonialisms questions the place of 'the popular' in the postcolonial paradigm. Multidisciplinary in focus, this collection explores the extent to which popular forms are infused with colonial logics, and whether they can be employed by those advocating for change. It considers a range of fiction, film, and non-hegemonic cultural forms, engaging with topics such as environmental change, language activism, and cultural imperialism alongside analysis of figures like Tarzan and Frankenstein. Building on the work of cultural theorists, it asks whether the popular is actually where elite conceptions of the world may best be challenged. It also addresses middlebrow cultural production, which has tended to be seen as antithetical to radical traditions, asking whether this might, in fact, form an unlikely realm from which to question, critique, or challenge colonial tropes. Examining the ways in which the imprint of colonial history is in evidence (interrogated, mythologized or sublimated) within popular cultural production, this book raises a series of speculative questions exploring the interrelation of the popular and the postcolonial.

This book is the first to focus exclusively on issues of gender and sexuality in a range of post-war novels from the Anglophone Caribbean. Concentrating on the 1950s to the mid 1970s, it highlights the period's diversity of sexual concerns. New readings of seminal figures like Samuel Selvon and George Lamming are offered, in tandem with discussion of innovative, lesser-studied authors such as Andrew Salkey, Oscar Dathorne and Rosa Guy. Whereas this body of work has tended to be characterised as minimally engaged with sexuality and overly reliant on patriarchal, heteronormative frameworks, the book takes a different approach. First, it unpacks the motivations behind the masculinist bent of much of this writing, emphasising the anxieties underlying such assertion. It exposes both the gendered and sexual imperatives of the nationalist project and the destabilising effects of migration on masculine performance. Second, it brings to life a range of critically neglected same-sex desires. Framing such longing as both narratively and nationally disruptive, it recovers the marginalised erotic relations that challenge fantasies of national cohesion. As a result, the book opens up existing mappings of Caribbean fiction. Drawing on queer theory, feminism and masculinity studies, it highlights the ways in which sex both exceeds and threatens the imagined unity on which the nationalist vision depends.

Drawing together the insights of postcolonial scholarship and cultural studies, Popular Postcolonialisms questions the place of 'the popular' in the postcolonial paradigm. Multidisciplinary in focus, this collection explores the extent to which popular forms are infused with colonial logics, and whether they can be employed by those advocating for change. It considers a range of fiction, film, and non-hegemonic cultural forms, engaging with topics such as environmental change, language activism, and cultural imperialism alongside analysis of figures like Tarzan and Frankenstein. Building on the work of cultural theorists, it asks whether the popular is actually where elite conceptions of the world may best be challenged. It also addresses middlebrow cultural production, which has tended to be seen as antithetical to radical traditions, asking whether this might, in fact, form an unlikely realm from which to question, critique, or challenge colonial tropes. Examining the ways in which the imprint of colonial history is in evidence (interrogated, mythologized or sublimated) within popular cultural production, this book raises a series of speculative questions exploring the interrelation of the popular and the postcolonial.

This book is the first to focus exclusively on issues of gender and sexuality in a range of post-war novels from the Anglophone Caribbean. Concentrating on the 1950s to the mid 1970s, it highlights the period's diversity of sexual concerns. New readings of seminal figures like Samuel Selvon and George Lamming are offered, in tandem with discussion of innovative, lesser-studied authors such as Andrew Salkey, Oscar Dathorne and Rosa Guy. Whereas this body of work has tended to be characterised as minimally engaged with sexuality and overly reliant on patriarchal, heteronormative frameworks, the book takes a different approach. First, it unpacks the motivations behind the masculinist bent of much of this writing, emphasising the anxieties underlying such assertion. It exposes both the gendered and sexual imperatives of the nationalist project and the destabilising effects of migration on masculine performance. Second, it brings to life a range of critically neglected same-sex desires. Framing such longing as both narratively and nationally disruptive, it recovers the marginalised erotic relations that challenge fantasies of national cohesion. As a result, the book opens up existing mappings of Caribbean fiction. Drawing on queer theory, feminism and masculinity studies, it highlights the ways in which sex both exceeds and threatens the imagined unity on which the nationalist vision depends.

Kate Holden's] road to recovery begins when she starts working in a brothel. The clients seem to fit the same distribution curve - brutish at one end, sweet at the other - but now that the trade is coming to her, she draws strength from the power of her allure, starts to take pride in her work, and discovers she's good at it. This surprising trajectory, along with its searing intellectual and emotional honesty and the quality of the writing, easily sets In My Skin apart from most other my-substance-abuse-hell memoirs. - The Independent on Sunday 21/05/06. Her vivid narrative voice lends a gritty poetry to her tale of heroin addiction, half-hearted rehab and prostitution. The book's power to shock rests in its contrasts; the life Kate led during her 20s may have been unexceptional for many young women, but not for a pretty, intelligent, middle-class girl with a classics degree, a job in a bookshop and a loving family of liberal, politically aware academics. She conjures with glittering clarity the sense of invincibility that comes with the first taste of adult life, the belief that drugs can make love and art transcendent, the conviction that you are in control.In My Skin is a compelling story of love and squalor that retains humanity and sympathy. - The Observer, 14/05/06.