title: 'His great heart remained behind': Constructions of Identity in Alistair MacLeod's Fiction

authors: Hill, Freya

subjects: nova scotia

abstract: Alistair MacLeod’s short stories and novel (No Great Mischief) are widely read and critically praised. His writing focuses on the lives of the people of 20th century Cape Breton Island, Nova Scotia, and many of his characters are of Scottish descendent. He writes of the Island’s miners, fishermen and farmers, as well as the younger generation who increasingly leave their island homeland to pursue higher education and greater job opportunities. As a result of this out-migration, much of MacLeod’s work mourns the passing of the Island’s traditional, rural culture. MacLeod’s writing combines detailed and compelling physical description with metaphor and symbolism. This thesis looks at the ways in which the identity of the Islanders is constructed in MacLeod’s work; and how the myths of the Islanders’ minds collide with the physical reality of their lives. The four main themes that are analysed in the thesis are: Scotland, Journeys, Animals, and Death. Scotland is depicted as both a physical location, and a mythical ‘homeland’, synonymous with the exile and victimisation associated with the Scottish Diaspora. The Islanders’ lives are defined by the journeys they make to and from the Island. The modes of transport that enable these journeys are explored, including boats, cars and aeroplanes. Physical journeys often support the emotional journeys of the characters. ‘Horse and Hound’, the chapter on animals, provides a unique analysis of MacLeod’s depiction of the human-animal relationship (seen especially with horses and dogs), and animal symbolism. The deaths and ill treatment of whales, bulls and dogs are linked to the demise of the Island’s traditional culture. Violent and premature deaths occur in many of MacLeod’s works. This thesis discusses how a dead body is both a symbol of a life lost, but also a physical object which the families must deal with in their isolated island locations.

text: 'His great heart remained behind': Constructions of Identity in Alistair MacLeod's Fiction Alistair MacLeod’s short stories and novel (No Great Mischief) are widely read and critically praised. His writing focuses on the lives of the people of 20th century Cape Breton Island, Nova Scotia, and many of his characters are of Scottish descendent. He writes of the Island’s miners, fishermen and farmers, as well as the younger generation who increasingly leave their island homeland to pursue higher education and greater job opportunities. As a result of this out-migration, much of MacLeod’s work mourns the passing of the Island’s traditional, rural culture. MacLeod’s writing combines detailed and compelling physical description with metaphor and symbolism. This thesis looks at the ways in which the identity of the Islanders is constructed in MacLeod’s work; and how the myths of the Islanders’ minds collide with the physical reality of their lives. The four main themes that are analysed in the thesis are: Scotland, Journeys, Animals, and Death. Scotland is depicted as both a physical location, and a mythical ‘homeland’, synonymous with the exile and victimisation associated with the Scottish Diaspora. The Islanders’ lives are defined by the journeys they make to and from the Island. The modes of transport that enable these journeys are explored, including boats, cars and aeroplanes. Physical journeys often support the emotional journeys of the characters. ‘Horse and Hound’, the chapter on animals, provides a unique analysis of MacLeod’s depiction of the human-animal relationship (seen especially with horses and dogs), and animal symbolism. The deaths and ill treatment of whales, bulls and dogs are linked to the demise of the Island’s traditional culture. Violent and premature deaths occur in many of MacLeod’s works. This thesis discusses how a dead body is both a symbol of a life lost, but also a physical object which the families must deal with in their isolated island locations.

year: 2011

title: The future of surrogacy in New Zealand – Beyond the adoption model

authors: van Zyl, Liezl

abstract: Surrogacy in New Zealand is treated as a form of adoption. ACART (2014) proposes that the Health Minister consider compensating women who act as surrogate mothers. We think this is a step in the right direction, but until the adoption model is abandoned surrogacy will not be a safe practice for New Zealanders. ACART’s consultation document does not address the issue of legal parenthood, but it is one that is intimately linked to the issue of compensation to surrogates because the Adoption Act (Section 25) prohibits payments in consideration of adoption. If, as we will argue below, surrogates deserve to be compensated for their labour, it is imperative that we acknowledge that the adoption framework is inappropriate in surrogacy.

text: The future of surrogacy in New Zealand – Beyond the adoption model Surrogacy in New Zealand is treated as a form of adoption. ACART (2014) proposes that the Health Minister consider compensating women who act as surrogate mothers. We think this is a step in the right direction, but until the adoption model is abandoned surrogacy will not be a safe practice for New Zealanders. ACART’s consultation document does not address the issue of legal parenthood, but it is one that is intimately linked to the issue of compensation to surrogates because the Adoption Act (Section 25) prohibits payments in consideration of adoption. If, as we will argue below, surrogates deserve to be compensated for their labour, it is imperative that we acknowledge that the adoption framework is inappropriate in surrogacy.

year: 2015

title: The presence of the past: Maori history in contemporary reflection

authors: Mahuika, Nepia

abstract: This is the opening line of a famous saying in my tribe. For our people - Ngāti Porou - these words have become embedded in our tribal identity as important directives that we are encouraged to aspire to. In the “days destined to you”, Ngata reminds us that each generation has its own mana (or authority), our own responsibilities and challenges, our own dreams and destinies to fulfil, and our own histories to tell about Ngāti Porou: who we are, our past, present, and future. If we consider this expectant, and I think hopeful, affirmation as a gift and responsibility, then taking real ownership of the “days destined to us” requires us to know what our forebears have entrusted us with. What are those historical gifts that we might use to “centre” and assert ourselves as Māori, as Ngāti Porou? We might look at this directly, i mua: the past before us because it is our history that is so crucial to us as we walk consciously, and with determination, into the future. Our past before us helps us to know where we are going, it helps us correc our course when we stray, keeps us mindful of the “kaupapa”: whatever that might be in our generation and corner of the Maori universe. We’ve heard already today from both Enoka and Arini how Māori, in our own ways, are engaging with our past, drawing on our korero tuku iho (our oral histories passed down across the generations), on our whakairo (our carving), to illuminate the many ways Māori do, and think about, the past.

text: The presence of the past: Maori history in contemporary reflection This is the opening line of a famous saying in my tribe. For our people - Ngāti Porou - these words have become embedded in our tribal identity as important directives that we are encouraged to aspire to. In the “days destined to you”, Ngata reminds us that each generation has its own mana (or authority), our own responsibilities and challenges, our own dreams and destinies to fulfil, and our own histories to tell about Ngāti Porou: who we are, our past, present, and future. If we consider this expectant, and I think hopeful, affirmation as a gift and responsibility, then taking real ownership of the “days destined to us” requires us to know what our forebears have entrusted us with. What are those historical gifts that we might use to “centre” and assert ourselves as Māori, as Ngāti Porou? We might look at this directly, i mua: the past before us because it is our history that is so crucial to us as we walk consciously, and with determination, into the future. Our past before us helps us to know where we are going, it helps us correc our course when we stray, keeps us mindful of the “kaupapa”: whatever that might be in our generation and corner of the Maori universe. We’ve heard already today from both Enoka and Arini how Māori, in our own ways, are engaging with our past, drawing on our korero tuku iho (our oral histories passed down across the generations), on our whakairo (our carving), to illuminate the many ways Māori do, and think about, the past.

year: 2016