Peter Lang is delighted to announce the winner of the 2024 Peter Lang Reimagining Ireland Book Prize:

Audrey Robitaillié, Lecturer, Institut Catholique de Toulouse (UR Ceres, TR1)

The Multifaceted Changeling: Rewritings of the Folk Figure in Contemporary Literature

We congratulate our winner! The judges deemed the entry to be thoughtful, really well written and excellently put together. They were pleased to see that it tapped into a topic of increasing importance in the study of Irish literature today.

The resulting book will be published as a Gold Open Access title in the Reimagining Ireland series, making it freely available to a global audience.

Learn More & Stay Connected

To learn more about the Peter Lang Reimagining Ireland Book Prize and upcoming titles, please visit our website 2024 Reimagining Ireland Book Prize – Peter Lang.

To explore titles in the series, visit the series homepage Reimagining Ireland

For more information, please contact Tony Mason (a.mason@peterlang.com)

Peter Lang is delighted to announce the results of the 2024 Emerging Scholars Competition in Environmental Humanities:

Winners 

Yolanda López-Maldonado 

Indigenous Knowledge Explained 

and 

Amy Ainsworth 

The Ecological and the ecoGothic in German Literature and Culture (1885-1930)  

to be published in the Plants and Animals: Interdisciplinary Approaches book series 

We congratulate our winners! Thank you to our distinguished editorial board and to all those who took part in the competition.  

2025 Emerging Scholars Competition

We invite you to take part in our Peter Lang 2025 Emerging Scholars Competition in Queer Studies. You can find information on our 2025 competition here: https://www.peterlang.com/2025-emerging-scholars-competition/

For more information, please contact Dr Laurel Plapp (l.plapp@peterlang.com) or Dr Phil Dunshea, (p.dunshea@peterlang.com). 

About the Peter Lang Emerging Scholars Competition

The Peter Lang Emerging Scholars Competition (previously known as the Young Scholars Competition) is an annual competition for early career researchers in selected fields. It has been held every year since 2011, in fields such as Black Studies, Irish Studies, Women’s Writing, Education, French Studies, and more.  

In each competition, book proposals for monographs are invited from emerging scholars to be evaluated by a distinguished editorial board. Winners receive a contract for a fully funded book and the title of winner. Runners-up and other participants may also have opportunities to publish. 

We’re proud to have a community of over 30 winners of the competition over the years, and we’re pleased to feature some of our winning books. Please watch the interviews with three winners of our 2019 French Studies competition – Polly Galis, Mathew Rickard, and Natalie Berkman – to learn what winning the competition has meant to them.

Nandu was worried. His son, Ajay, should have been home by now. While parental concerns for one’s child’s safety and whereabouts seem normal enough, in Nandu’s case these were always exacerbated by the secret about his son’s identity that he had fought hard to harbor. Uneasy and restless Nandu starts to search for his son. He would later learn of a lynched corpse hanging near the Dimapur train station. Despite being defaced, the corpse had been identified as Muslim. It was as though Nandu’s worst fears had been realized, because he instinctively knew that the corpse was his son’s.

This forms the denouement of a short story titled, “The Platform” that appeared in Temsula Ao’s last published collection, The Tombstone in my Garden. The story follows the life of a migrant worker in Nagaland around the 1960s who ends up finding work as a porter in the Dimapur train station. He is referred to as a “Bihari” a term used for most migrant workers in Dimapur at the time, often regardless of which part of India they came from. As the years roll by, Nandu becomes increasingly aware of a new kind of outsider called the “Bangladeshis” whose presence becomes increasingly unsettling in Dimapur. It is not the “natives” who are quite as troubled by the rising ranks of the new outsiders, the narrator tells us, but rather other groups of outsiders who unlike the Biharis or the Bangladeshis had established stakes in the macro-economies of Nagaland. The story subtly alludes to the ensuing refugee crisis from the Bangladesh Liberation War when Nandu ends up fostering an orphaned refugee boy he finds cowering in a corner of the Dimapur station. He tries and fails to get the boy, who seemed to be in a shock induced stupor, to wash and clean himself. Taking charge of the situation he decides to bathe the boy and discovers that the boy was Muslim.

Overcome with panic, Nandu tries to calm himself by resolving to conceal the boy’s true identity. He impresses upon the boy that his name would now be Ajay. The boy as though gradually emerging from a long torpor finally speaks, ‘My name is Ajmal’. Nandu starts to panic again, and shouts at the boy saying that he would henceforth only answer to the name Ajay. The frightened boy concedes, and in the years that follow Nandu goes to great lengths to conceal the boy’s true identity and raises Ajay as his adopted son. As Ajay grows up, tensions around the increasingly visible presence of the newer unwelcome outsiders rise, but Nandu is able to shield his adopted son from being discovered as a “Bangladeshi” and a Muslim. However, through a cruel turn of events, Ajay’s true identity is discovered. By the end of the story, we are told that Nandu was never seen in the Dimapur train station again. Both his presence and his grief over his son’s brutal death were, “wiped off the face of the earth without anyone noticing that anything was amiss.”

In trying to find a language with which to understand such erasures, I am often reminded of two insights that have left a lasting impression on me as a reader. The first comes from an observation Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak offers in Death of a Discipline, “Whatever our view of what we do, we are made by the forces of people moving about the world.” The observation is contextualized within a history of the 1965 Immigration Reforms enacted by President Lyndon B. Johnson in the United States. It is, however, hard to imagine that its purported significance is to be limited to such a contextualization alone. I think of Nandu, whose character in Ao’s short story is that of a migrant worker who settles in Nagaland. I also think of Ajay who was a child refugee orphaned and displaced by the forces of war.

The second insight invokes the frame Arundhati Roy sets up in The God of Small Things, that such forces have been circumscribing our places in the world for much longer than we probably realize or care to acknowledge. The conflict at the heart of her narrative, the narrator of Roy’s novel suggests, harks back to a prehistory when the “love laws” were made, the laws that laid down who should be loved, how and how much. It may be argued that the same is true of difference as an existential reality that stems from the fundamental separation between beings—between Self and Other. Difference in such a sense is never wholly reconcilable but facilitates a movement of endeavoring towards one another. For example, such a radical separation between Self and Other is a necessary precondition, according to philosophers such as Roland Barthes or Emmanuel Levinas, for desire or love. However, such a separation that precludes the possibility of ever entirely knowing another, can just as easily be the source of fear. One could think here of the famous passage in Abert Camus’ L’Étranger when the protagonist, Meursault, shoots “the Arab”, feeling threatened by his presence.

While I refrain from a detailed philosophical or anthropological discussion of how an engagement with difference or otherness is foundational to an understanding of the human condition, I do wish to posit the same as a basis for comparison as an interpersonal or intersubjective practice. Given the locus of my academic training, I am especially thinking Comparative Literature as an academic discipline in terms of how it has been situated over the years within discussions of inclusivity, often based on an assumed correlation between a politics of inclusion and an ethics of comparison. To begin with, can one broach such a question of inclusion, both ethically and politically, without first acknowledging marginalization as a precondition? Furthermore, do such claims towards inclusivity also run the risk of disremembering our complicity in violences of marginalization? And lastly, do such acts of inclusion run the risk of coopting the Other in self-serving ways?

In contexts such as the United States in the years following World War II, we see how the immigrant experience starts to become increasingly central to a practice of Comparative Literature. A concern for marginality, one might argue, emerges as a result of marginal experiences finding an academic home in this discipline. In an autobiographical piece she wrote for a volume titled Building a Profession edited by Lionel Gossman and Mihai Spariosu, Anna Balakian poignantly mentions, that she was born in Constantinople, “just before it turned into Istanbul”. She goes on to reminisce about her childhood as an émigré, moving from one national education system to the next, as her parents made their way across Europe, until they finally settled in New York which she describes as a polyglot and international city. Despite her initial hesitations regarding calling herself a comparatist, Balakian recounts, there was something almost organic about such a practice that resonated deeply with her life’s experiences. Being a child of immigrants in America, the pressure to master the English language without any trace of an “ethnic” accent dominated her early years, and yet she could not think of life monolingually. Her love for the French language would lead her to study French at college and university, where she was taught by Paul Hazard, the famous French littérateur and historian of ideas.

In such a sense comparison as a foundational practice within Comparative Literature has always had a strong experiential aspect to it. Scholars in the field have often opined that a methodology for practices of this discipline has in fact emerged from experiences of having lived “comparative lives”. In the aforementioned piece, Balakian states that when she thinks of what it means to be a comparatist, she thinks of someone like her teacher Paul Hazard, whom she describes as having a refined and cosmopolitan worldview. It is often such a sense of cosmopolitanism that suggests, as I mentioned earlier, a correlation between inclusivity and comparison. As a comparatist inhabiting a context that is markedly different while at once being impinged upon by globalist modalities of thought and knowledge, I frequently imagine the work of comparison on more cellular levels. What does a comparative life look like when circumscribed by an incontrovertibly localized experiential frame?

When I think of comparative lives as an experiential and historical frame, I cannot help but think of Ajay, who was once Ajmal. He had spoken this name in Bangla and was shouted at in Hindi to never go by it again. I think of this child, displaced and orphaned by war. He was a war refugee, adopted and nurtured by a migrant worker. A less tolerable outsider loved and cared for by another slightly more tolerable outsider. I think of the life Ajay could have had. I think of his lynched corpse, of how everybody knew but chose not to utter his name, and of Nandu’s grief that remained forever unspoken. I often wonder whether their lives too count as comparative lives.

Inspired by BBC Radio’s “Desert Island Discs,” the Peter Lang Group presents ‘Peak Reads & Playlists’.

Join us on a journey to the mountain peaks near our Lausanne headquarters where we speak with our esteemed series editors.  

In this interview format, our guests usually share the books, music, and food that would keep them company if they were whisked away alone to this beautiful mountain setting.

However, in acknowledgment of the fantastic series mentioned below we’ve swapped out music for film! Simon Bacon explores the reasons behind these choices, revealing the impact and influence each has had. Get a glimpse into the hearts and minds of the Peter Lang community.

Name: Simon Bacon
Job Title: Independent Scholar
Series: Genre Fiction and Films Companions and Vampire Studies: New Perspectives on the Undead

Books

> Which FICTION title would take the coveted first spot on your list?

I’m terrible at doing “top tens” and the like, as it’s always changing! The most influential would have to be Dracula, as I quote it so much, but would I want to be stuck on a Swiss mountain too with it? Not necessarily.

I’ll go with something new, as it’s way more likely to keep me entertained for longer and it’s an unfinished series so I’d be able to air-drop the latest instalments. So my choice would be the graphic novel series #DRCL Midnight Children by Shin’ichi Sakamoto. It’s so beautifully drawn and imagined and it does all these crazy, genre-bending things with canonical texts that only manga can do! If you didn’t think Dracula was a Folk Horror Eco-story before, you will once you start on this.

> If you were offered the chance to take a NON-FICTION title, which would you choose?

Oddly, this is easier to choose than the previous question: A Thousand Plateaus by Deleuze and Guattari, which I was reading when I met my wife (both life-changing experiences). It really changed how I read everything afterwards in terms of trajectories, change and futurity (unsurprisingly my first monograph was called Becoming Vampire).

> We’re feeling generous so we’ll allow you one more book, your choice of FICTION or NON-FICTION – which one makes the list?

I’m going to be cheeky here and list a few that are from both lists and then make a final choice. For non-fiction, the important ones that would make any list are Stacey Abbott’s Celluloid Vampires, Jeffrey Weinstock’s Vampire Cinema, Rob Latham’s Consuming Youth, Ken Gelder’s Reading the Vampire, Jack Halberstam’s Skin Shows, and Paul Barber’s Vampires, Burial, and Death. For fiction, I’d go with Let the Right One In by Lindqvist, The Strain Trilogy by del Toro and Hogan, The Maltese Falcon by Hammett, Blood of the Vampire by Marryat, and Lost Girls by Moore.

And the winner would be … Let the Right One In, as it’s so different from any of the film adaptations and it is beautiful, scary and outright weird in equal amounts.

Film & Television

> It’s hard to tear your eyes away from the panoramic views, but everyone loves their screen time.

Which 5 FILMS OR TV SHOWS would you take to enjoy whilst up on the summit and why?

1. Again, trying to choose 5 is almost impossible, as on another day it would be 5 completely different films! Unlike most horror/vampire fans, I really didn’t like horror at all when I was growing up and it wasn’t until I went back to university in my 40s that it became a thing for me. For my MA dissertation, I decided to write about vampires as a site of memory for America, starting with Browning’s Dracula. However, the film that has remained with me, and the one I actually owned before turning to the dark side, is Blade. It’s such a great film and only Wesley Snipes, at that time, could make the character work that well on screen. It’s a film I’ll happily watch anytime it’s on (and the two sequels of course).
Film trailer here: https://www.imdb.com/video/vi2746876185

2. Another film that falls into the category of “I’ll watch it anytime it’s on” is Constantine (2005). It’s one of those films — not unlike The Thing (1982), Aliens (1986), AVP (2004), Hellboy (2004), Silent Hill (2006), Legion (2010), and The Autopsy of Jane Doe (2016) — that has no right to be as good as it is. Keanu Reeves as the lead looks absolutely nothing like the comic character it’s taken from, but he owns the part, and brilliant performances from everyone (especially Peter Stormare) just pick you up and drag you along with it until the end. I could spend a lot of time on the mountain top watching this over and over.
Film trailer here: https://www.imdb.com/video/vi2357507609

3. I should choose a TV series, both because there’s been some great vampy ones over the years and because some have been extremely long running: Dark Shadows (1966-71), Buffy the Vampire Slayer (1997-2003), True Blood (2008-14), and The Vampire Diaries (2009-17), including various spin-offs for most of them. There have been newer ones of note, namely the extremely popular What We Do In the Shadows series (2019-24), and the more vampirically ambitious Dracula miniseries (2020-20) from the BBC, and there is much about both of these which repays repeated watching.

However, for my third choice I shall go for a somewhat more problematic production that offered much more than it was ultimately able to give yet still created moments of brilliance, and that’s the Dracula (2013-14) series by Cole Haddon. Here, the Count becomes something of an eco-warrior fighting the imperial “crew of light” to break their hold over the world through the exploitation of fossil fuels. In a steampunk London, Dracula, under the guidance of Van Helsing, creates a generator to produce wireless electricity (an idea borrowed from Nikola Tesla), taking society by storm. Featuring a very rare black Renfield and a fabulous female vampire hunter, the series does much to overturn expectations but allows itself to get bogged down in an unnecessary eternal-love story that drains energy out of the narrative. However, not unlike its vampiric lead, Jonathan Rhys Meyers, when it’s good it is very, very good.
Series trailer here:  https://www.imdb.com/video/vi3827148313

4. I want to go for something older for the fourth pick, if only to mix it up a bit while I’m stuck on the mountain. Again, there’s so many great early vampire films (and vampire-less vampire films) that it’s difficult to choose just one. Apart from the obvious biggies (Nosferatu, Vampyr, Dracula), films like Condemned to Live (1935), The Return of Doctor X (1939), The Devil Bat (1940), The House of Dracula (1945), and Blood of Dracula (1957) are all largely overlooked.

To continue with that idea, I’ll choose The Vampire Bat (1933). It’s another of the vampire-less vampire films with a killer covering his tracks by pretending there is a killer vampire bat on the loose. It stars Melvyn Douglas and Fay Wray, but our reason for choosing this is none other than Dwight Frye. Only a few years on from playing amazing roles in Browning‘s Dracula and Whale’s Frankenstein, he was already a victim of the “vampires curse” that is alleged to have affected many from Browning’s film and was typecast as a lunatic or disfigured servant, severely limiting his cinematic career (Lugosi of course suffered a similar fate in relation to the roles he was offered). He’s great in this and, as expected, plays the village idiot who is wrongly accused of the crimes and eventually gets staked – all due to his fondness for bats. Meanwhile, the evil Dr Niemann has created a new lifeform in a tank and needs fresh blood to feed it on, bringing a suitably left-field plot to a close, just so Melvyn and Fay can end the film together.
Film trailer/clips here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jd1GxHgiaHM

5. To finish, I want to choose something more recent, not least because there have been some great vampire films since 2000, even while the zombie seems to have consumed the popular imagination around the 2010s. Netflix has kept the vampire as a staple during that time, though not always producing the best films, but Blood Red Sky (2021) was interesting and Vampires vs the Bronx (2020) was hugely entertaining. Lower budget, general release films like Strigoi (2009) by Faye Jackson, Carmilla (2019) by Emily Harris, and Bliss (2019) by Joe Begos have taken the vampire mythos into newer directions. The recent upturn in interest in all things vampy has seen big-budget projects produced like Morbius (2022), The Last Voyage of the Demeter (2023), and Renfield (2023), although these have not quite returned on their initial promise. Abigail (2024), however, while maybe setting its bar slightly lower, kept its vision and performances tightly together and moving in the right direction to produce a highly enjoyable film.

Having said all this, I’m actually going to return to a much smaller production from 2014 that gets nowhere near the attention it should and that is Nosferatu in Love by Peter Straughan. It’s part of the Playhouse Presents TV series and tells of an actor (Mark Strong) sent out to the Czech Republic to make a film about Murnau’s Nosferatu and using some of the original locations. However, the actor has just split from his long-term partner and is going through something of a breakdown. Through an odd mirroring of parts of the original film, the actor, still dressed as Graf Orlok, meets a Renfield/Knock who takes him round the local dives of the town, gets drunk, and attempts to release thousands of rats from the film set into the town on his road to redemption. Then he vanishes in the light of day. I had the good fortune to speak to the director himself, who was as lovely as the film itself, and it’s a short movie I will never not enjoy.
The short film can be watched here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a02r2DmzPec

Food

> We couldn’t let our community feed their souls but not their bodies, so which FOOD DISH would you choose to take with you on the mountain retreat?

Marzipan. I know it’s not a dish, but I have an insanely sweet tooth and if I’m going to be stranded anywhere the only way to ensure my sanity is a ready supply of marzipan.

Thank you for joining us up on the mountain!

Discover the series here: 
Genre Fiction and Film Companions
Vampire Studies: New Perspectives on the Undead

Inspired by BBC Radio’s “Desert Island Discs,” the Peter Lang Group presents ‘Peak Reads & Playlists’.

Join us on a journey to the mountain peaks near our Lausanne headquarters where we speak with our esteemed series editors.  

In this interview format, our guests share the books, music, and food that would keep them company if they were whisked away alone to this beautiful mountain setting. They’ll explore the reasons behind their choices, revealing the impact and influence each has had on their lives. Get a glimpse into the hearts and minds of the Peter Lang community.

Name: Dulce Maria Scott
Job Title: Professor, Department Chair, Social Work and Criminal Justice
Series: Interdisciplinary Studies in Diasporas

Books

> Which FICTION title would take the coveted first spot on your list?

Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet (Livro do Desassossego).

Atop a mountain, one often finds themselves in a state of contemplation, pondering the essence of human existence and feeling a spiritual connection to the wider universe. It was a challenging task to choose from the renowned Portuguese poets and writers from my earlier years in Portugal, including Eça de Queiróz, Fernando Pessoa, Florbela Espanca, Sophia de Mello Breyner Andresen, Miguel Torga, and Aquilino Ribeiro, among several others. Ultimately, I decided on a work by Fernando Pessoa that transcends both place and time, making it universally resonant. Livro do Desassossego is a thought-provoking and deeply poetic exploration of the human condition. I first read it in Portuguese, but it has been translated into several languages, including English.

> If you were offered the chance to take a NON-FICTION title, which would you choose?

During a difficult chapter of my graduate school experience, while sharing a living space with Indian roommates, I found solace in Indian philosophy. Its profound deconstruction of the human ego deeply resonated with me. Eventually, I came across Sri Aurobindo: The Life Divine. This masterpiece not only deepened my understanding of spiritual philosophy but also fascinated me with its engagement with the Western thought I was studying in graduate school.

Sri Aurobindo: The Life Divine

> We’re feeling generous so we’ll allow you one more book, your choice of FICTION or NON-FICTION – which one makes the list?

Hermann Hess, Steppenwolf

Selecting among numerous wonderful novels was a challenge, yet I felt compelled to include Steppenwolf, particularly as I envisioned reading it while experiencing closeness to nature atop a mountain. Steppenwolf is a precursor to existentialism, foreshadowing Jean Paul Sartre’s exploration of “being and nothingness.” The novel delves into the struggle between the human ego, socially constructed within the confines of specific cultural norms, and a primordial state of being, free of the ego. Its beautiful prose and profound message left an indelible impression on me upon my first reading.  

Music

> The mountain ranges have spectacular acoustics. Which 5 MUSICAL RECORDINGS would you take to enjoy whilst up on the summit and why?

1. Vangelis, Mythodea Movement 9 With Lyrics

When at the top of a mountain, one can be overtaken by a deep sense of transcendence—a connection to something greater than oneself, to a universal and primigenius state of being. This musical composition amplifies such feelings, evoking a sense of transcendence and tapping into that primordial essence.

2. Zeca Afonso – Balada do Outono (Autumn Ballad)

Zeca Afonso’s “Balada do Outono” is somewhat melancholic, as the singer announces that he will stop singing. It draws on the imagery of flowing waters, evoking the passage of time and life’s impermanence. It is a contemplative journey that invites reflection on our connection to the divine amid the serene acceptance of mortality.

Also see the composers version here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q2q_ngA-X3c

3. Mariza – Gente Da Minha Terra ao vivo em Lisboa

Marisa’s “Gente da Minha Terra” (People of my Land) is another melancholic song, deeply rooted in the tradition of Portuguese fado music. It encapsulates the essence of “saudade,” the longing born from the absence of those who departed due to maritime exploration, colonial settlement, and immigration. The singer movingly acknowledges that the sadness she carries within her originates from the people of her homeland. This sentiment is quintessentially reflective of Portuguese culture.

4. Adagio in G Minor (Albinoni)

This exquisite composition has often carried me during moments of disquiet and uncertainty. Its serene melody has offered me solace and refuge, bringing peace to times of turmoil. At the top of a mountain, I would play it while seeking moments of introspection and connection with myself.

5. André Rieu: In a Persian Market

While at the top of a mountain, where moments of introspection and connection often prevail, I would also cherish times of levity. André Rieu’s rendition imbues the composition with vitality and panache. This piece, although inspired by a Persian market, makes me feel like freely dancing atop the mountain, while recognizing the diversity of humankind and the beauty of the world.

Food

Main dish: Bacalhau à Brás is a classic Portuguese dish crafted with salted cod, eggs, potatoes, onions, garlic, parsley, olives, and olive oil, all cooked together. I would pair it with a fine Portuguese white wine.  

For desert: Pastéis de Nata, a delicious Portuguese custard tart, very rich in flavor. I would enjoy it along with a cup of expresso coffee.

Thank you to Dulce Maria Scott for joining us up on the mountain!

Discover the series here:  https://www.peterlang.com/series/isd

Inspired by BBC Radio’s “Desert Island Discs,” the Peter Lang Group presents ‘Peak Reads & Playlists’.

Join us on a journey to the mountain peaks near our Lausanne headquarters where we speak with our esteemed series editors.  

In this interview format, our guests share the books, music, and food that would keep them company if they were whisked away alone to this beautiful mountain setting. They’ll explore the reasons behind their choices, revealing the impact and influence each has had on their lives. Get a glimpse into the hearts and minds of the Peter Lang community.

Name: Dr. Jatinder Mann
Job Title: Visiting Research Fellow, University of Reading
Series: Studies in Transnationalism

Books

> Which FICTION title would take the coveted first spot on your list?

Matthew Gregory Lewis’ The Monk: A Romance (1998). One of my oldest best friends strongly recommended this book to me many years ago, and I have always been so grateful that he did. The imagery in the book is quite spectacular. You are gripped from the first page to the very last. It is an excellent example of Gothic literature. It was very controversial and scandalous when it was first published, which is not surprising considering its subject matter.

> If you were offered the chance to take a NON-FICTION title, which would you choose?

Atholl Anderson, Judith Binney, and Aroha Harris’ Tangata Whenua: An Illustrated History (2015). This is a wonderful book that explores the history of Aotearoa New Zealand from a Māori perspective. It covers a very broad historical period and employs an inter and multidisciplinary approach to bring a very rich narrative – both textually and visually (there are some stunning photos in the book) to life. It is a book that I drew on considerably when I designed and taught a course on the History of Aotearoa New Zealand for the first time when I was based in Hong Kong.

> We’re feeling generous so we’ll allow you one more book, your choice of FICTION or NON-FICTION – which one makes the list?

Khushwant Singh’s A Train to Pakistan (1956). There are some books that you read that just stay with you for life and this is one of those books for me. I read it in my youth. It is a novel set in the Punjab (the region of South Asia that my family is descended from) in 1947 during Partition which saw the region divided between the newly created states of India and Pakistan along religious lines (Hindus and Sikhs mainly in the former and Muslims primarily in the latter) after the end of the British Raj (British imperial rule). The associated population exchanges and communal violence after the hasty British withdrawal saw up to one million people killed and up to twenty million dispossessed. I think one of the reasons why this book really touched me on a deep level is that it is about an extremely traumatic event that affected my ancestors, and the legacy of which remains to this day with the very fraught relationship between India and Pakistan.

Music

>The mountain ranges have spectacular acoustics. Which 5 MUSICAL RECORDINGS would you take to enjoy whilst up on the summit and why?

1. Mariah Carey: Butterfly (1997). If I was ever asked who my favourite musical artist is, I would unhesitatingly reply, Mariah Carey. I have loved her music ever since I heard my eldest sister playing it when I was a kid, and I thought to myself who had the voice of this Angel. But this album in particular has a lot of meaning for me as it was released after she got divorced from a very unhappy marriage, and so it was an expression of her freedom and rebirth. At the exact same time I had just finished High School, which was not a happy time for me, as it is not for many people. So, the album encapsulated my own feelings of freedom and rebirth after a difficult several years. The title song from the album, ‘Butterfly’ is one of my all-time favourite songs of Mariah as it really showcases her song-writing skills. That is one of the things I love most about her, the fact that she is a singer-songwriter, and so her songs resonate with me more deeply as I know they have come from her heart.

2. Shania Twain: Come on Over (1999). Shania Twain is the only musical artist who I have seen live more than once: twice in London, United Kingdom (UK) and once in Ottawa, Canada when I was based there. She is up there for me in terms of best live musical performers. In fact I remember when I was at one of her concerts at Wembley Arena and she was bending over whilst singing on the stage to sign her autograph for fans at the same time. There are not many musical artists of her calibre who would even consider doing this. I also have always appreciated her life story. She was born into very humble beginnings, her parents died in a car crash, she put her fledgling music career on hold to look after her younger siblings, and then achieved spectacular success relatively late in life. This album of her’s was the first that I ever heard and I was hooked. She led the way for a lot of other Country music artists to cross over into Pop music as well.

3. Janet Jackson: Janet (1993). My favourite genre of music by far is R&B, and having grown up when I did, nothing beats 90s R&B. And this album by Janet Jackson epitomises the very best of this. I have always found the artistry behind the album quite incredible. When you listen to it you truly feel like she is telling a story over the course of the whole album. The diverse range of songs on the album is also something that I have always loved about it, from chilled songs to very upbeat ones. For me it is Janet’s best album and inspired a lot of other musical artists I think. The album also illustrates something else which had its highpoint in the 1990s: music videos. The numerous songs which were released as singles from the album quite often had amazing music videos accompanying them. The video for ‘If’ is a good example.

4. The Chicks: Taking The Long Way (2006). I am a huge The Chicks fan. But this album has got to be for me, their best. It followed the over the top backlash that they received from the Country music establishment after their lead singer said she was ashamed President Bush was from her state of Texas at a concert in London, UK. Her comments were made in the context of the United States of America’s invasion of Iraq in 2003. I will never forget attending a concert of their’s in the same year that the album was released in Sydney, Australia where I was doing my Ph.D. at the time, and they sang the song ‘Not Ready to Make Nice’ which was written as a response to the backlash that they received (including death threats!) and they got a standing ovation from the whole crowd it seemed, which was absolutely well-deserved. The album is full of defiance and whenever I need to get pumped up for something it is my go to album. It represented a new, mature sound for them as a group and truly illustrated their artistry.

5. The Corrs: Forgiven Not Forgotten (1995). The Corrs are another one of my favourite bands. I love the Irish. I truly admire and respect the impact that they have had on the world, despite their challenging history. And musically there are few other countries in my opinion of its size who have produced musical artists of such calibre. And The Corrs are an excellent example of this. I love their use of traditional Irish musical instruments, their sound, and their voices. But it is the instrumental songs from the album, much more influenced by Folk music than Pop like their later albums, which stand out for me. In fact their song ‘Lough Erin Shore’ from the album is probably my favourite instrumental song ever. I remember having this album on constant replay when I was at college in London, UK.

Food

>We couldn’t let our community feed their souls but not their bodies, so which FOOD DISH would you choose to take with you on the mountain retreat?

Vegetable Pakoras. This is a savoury Punjabi dish and they are one of my all-time favourites. They were something that my Mum taught me how to make and although I only make them a few times a year, namely at major Sikh festivals (Vaisakhi and Diwali), my partner and I (and our friends and neighbours who I often share them with) really look forward to them as they are simply delicious. I think one of the things I love most about them are the numerous ingredients that go into them and if all goes well the amazing taste that they create all together.

Thank you to Dr. Jatinder Mann for joining us up on the mountain!

Discover the series here: https://www.peterlang.com/series/sit

In this article, Dustin Grinnell, author of Lost & Found, discusses the significance of sharing your voice as an author during book promotion, both figuratively and literally.

In the ever-evolving landscape of book promotion, authors are increasingly recognizing the significance of sharing their voices. Whether through traditional book events, social media platforms, TV and radio, or the intimacy of audio mediums like podcasts, authors have a variety of avenues to express themselves beyond the confines of their written work. This isn’t merely a trend, but rather a fundamental aspect of engaging with readers in the digital era. In this article, I’ll explore the benefits of authors embracing their voices during book promotion and how it contributes to audience engagement and their overall brand.

Self-Expression: Unleashing Creative Energy

The first benefit of sharing your voice during book promotion is the opportunity for self-expression. For many authors, the compulsion to creatively express themselves is often ingrained deeply within them. Whether it’s through a book event, a TV or radio appearance, or a social media post, the act of sharing ideas that have simmered within them can be exhilarating. By stepping into the public sphere, authors also invite scrutiny and consideration of their thoughts and concepts. This engagement not only allows authors to be “in the conversation,” but also empowers them to influence and shape it for the better.

Beyond the Pages: Revealing the Multifaceted Self

Another advantage of sharing your voice is the ability to showcase aspects of yourself beyond what’s contained within the pages of your book. While a book or story may offer a glimpse into one aspect of an author’s personality or belief system, engaging with readers directly allows for a more comprehensive portrayal of an author. Many authors’ written work, particularly fiction, is not entirely reflective of their beliefs or perspectives. Thus, platforms that enable interaction provide an opportunity to exhibit authenticity and complexity.

Insights into the Creative Process: Understanding and Connection

Sharing your voice during book promotion offers readers a window into your creative process, satisfying their curiosity while also providing insights for yourself. Participation in discussions or interviews prompts authors to reflect on their work, deepening their understanding of their motivations and inspirations. Engaging with readers also allows for valuable feedback, offering authors a gauge of how their work is perceived and its impact on audiences.

Spaces for Voice: Book Events, Social Media, and Traditional Media

Authors have a range of platforms and mediums through which they can share their voices, each offering distinct advantages.

Book Events: Engaging with Readers Directly

Book events, whether readings, talks, or signings at bookstores, libraries or at special events provide authors with direct interaction with their audience. In them, authors can address questions about their work’s origins, sources of inspiration, and themes. Structuring these events around key talking points not only guides the conversation but also ensures an engaging and informative exchange. Moreover, the experience of public speaking hones communication skills and fosters bravery in facing diverse audiences.

Social Media: Amplifying Reach and Engagement

Social media platforms offer authors a dynamic space to share their voices with a broader audience. From providing glimpses into their creative process to sharing personal updates and opinions, authors can engage with readers in real-time. While some may find navigating social media challenging, platforms like Instagram can be used to offer insights into an author’s life and work, fostering a sense of connection with followers.

Audio: Intimacy and Storytelling

Audio mediums such as podcasts offer an intimate platform for authors to share their voices. Unlike TV appearances and traditional radio, podcasts allow for deeper exploration of topics related to their work, fostering nuanced conversations and connections with listeners. Through long-form discussions, authors can delve into their creative process, engaging listeners in immersive storytelling experiences.

Enamored by the podcast medium, I started my own podcast, Curiously, extending an invitation to listeners to accompany me on journeys through diverse conversations fueled by my curiosity. Drawing inspiration from the 2022 documentary Stutz, in which Jonah Hill engaged in dialogue with his therapist, I interviewed my former therapist for the first episode. Since then, I‘ve produced 12 more featuring an array of guests, ranging from a biomedical engineer exploring the science of popular sci-fi films to a researcher specializing in self-compassion, who discussed the physical and mental health benefits derived from practicing kindness towards ourselves.

Building Your Brand: The Importance of Author Platforms

In the digital era, every author is a brand, and cultivating an online presence is important. Starting a podcast or maintaining an active social media presence not only allows authors to share their voices but also enhances their brand visibility. These platforms serve as avenues for promoting work, attracting new readers, and monetizing their audience. Moreover, engaging in enriching conversations and storytelling through audio formats like podcasts refines an author’s craft, further strengthening their brand and connection with their audience.

Sharing your voice during book promotion isn’t just about marketing; it’s about forging meaningful connections with readers, amplifying your brand, and honing your craft as a storyteller. By embracing diverse mediums, authors can authentically express themselves, engage with their audience, and leave a lasting impact beyond the pages of their books.

At Peter Lang International Academic Publishers, our name reflects our mission: to connect with and publish for a truly global audience. We achieve this by publishing in multiple languages with the support of a diverse international team of Acquisition Editors. Our titles cross regional and language barriers, catering of course to their specific target audiences but ensuring that access to valuable research is not limited by geographical borders. Every book we publish aspires to a global readership. 

However, our commitment to ‘thinking globally’ is balanced by a deep understanding of the power of local connections. 

Personal Stories, Universal Themes

A recent title, A ‘proper’ woman? One woman’s story of success and failure in academia perfectly exemplifies this balance. A deeply personal memoir exploring the author’s experiences over a 46-year career in academic institutions across Ireland and the UK, the subject matter is intricately linked to the author’s physical and cultural space. Even the title, with its reference to a ‘proper’ woman, grounds the narrative in the specific societal expectations of the author’s time and place. Naturally, we would expect such a title to resonate more strongly with readers from the same region or those who have similar experiences. A sense of place helps to ground the title and provide an authentic and relatable voice for the author.

However, the power of A ‘proper’ woman? lies not just in its localized perspective, but in its exploration of universal themes. Professor Pat O’Connor explores experiences of devaluation, marginalisation, and disempowerment. These are not unique to academia or Irish society; they are universal human experiences. Readers from vastly different backgrounds can still find themselves reflected in the struggles and triumphs of the author, encouraging a sense of connection. These themes can connect readers across cultures and locations so that even a book with a keen sense of place can add value to a global audience, highlighting the shared threads and perhaps offering inspiration for those facing similar challenges. 

By exploring these universal themes through a localized lens, A ‘proper’ woman? offers a deeper understanding of the human condition. Professor O’Connor’s journey highlights the challenges faced by many women in academia, but also the resilience and determination required to overcome them. This resonates with readers across the globe who have faced similar struggles for equality, regardless of their specific location or background.

Universal Themes, Local Recognition

One of the most important roles of a publisher is to recognize and support that balance between global relevance and a localized sense of place, to maximize the exposure and readership for each title. Sometimes we come across a book review that details this so perfectly for a title, all we need to do is share it.

A recent review by Dr Evelyn Mahon in the Sunday Independent explores what makes Professor O’Connor’s book so deeply personal. Dr Mahon quotes Professor O’Connor as writing “In the Ireland I grew up in, it was very clear that domesticity, self-abnegation and self-sacrifice were key motifs in defining a ‘proper’ woman.” The review recognizes that this is a candid memoir from someone whose experiences were defined in many ways by the context of time and place. For this reason, it is particularly important that we see the title reviewed in an Irish newspaper, as perhaps in many ways some references are best understood by an audience close geographically as well as ideologically. 

Dr Mahon though, also highlights some of the most important takeaways of this fascinating book, that those challenges faced by Professor O’Connor paved the way to both success and failure and that “O’Connor’s contribution to a changing Irish academia is to be applauded.” It is a universal truth that only people fighting against inequality will make positive change happen, and that path is not always smooth. This drive for equality, particularly in academic institutions, is another topic of global relevance with Dr Mahon highlighting a strength of the book as “understanding the way in which gender differences are reproduced within academic institutions.” The review touches on so many of the core themes and excellently summarizes why this book is an invaluable read for so many.

As a publishing company, we see A ‘proper’ woman? as a title that exemplifies the powerful narratives that come when a book with a strong sense of place tackles universal themes. It allows readers to connect with the author’s experiences on a personal level, while also offering broader insights into the human condition and the ongoing fight for equality. This interplay is what allows it to resonate with the global audience and leave a lasting impact, and we thank Dr Mahon for the recognition of that in this review. 

You can find the full review here: A Proper Woman review: Pat O’Connor’s engaging memoir reveals the inequities of academia | Irish Independent

Discover the book: https://www.peterlang.com/document/1376191

Peter Lang Group is pleased to announce a strategic partnership with OpenAthens Federation, a significant step in our ongoing dedication to delivering a seamless and secure experience for users seeking access to our digital resources. This collaboration reinforces our commitment to facilitating global access to Peter Lang Group’s extensive collection by enabling OpenAthens’ single sign-on capabilities for our titles.

OpenAthens offers librarians and users a simplified, integrated experience both on and off-site, increasing the accessibility of valuable knowledge and research. This aligns with Peter Lang’s fundamental mission of disseminating critical, high-quality research to the global academic community.

Librarians can now choose from nearly 20,000 digital books spanning the humanities and social sciences for their users, with an addition of 1,100 new print and digital publications annually. This portfolio ensures that users have access to cutting-edge research across various disciplines. Our partnership with OpenAthens means that libraries who choose from the Peter Lang collection can now benefit from simple and secure access.

“Patterns of learning and study continue to evolve, as does the technology that supports scholarly publishing. OpenAthens is delighted to work with Peter Lang to ensure their high-quality knowledge and research is simpler and easier to access wherever the learning takes place.” Jon Bentley, Commercial Director, OpenAthens

To learn more about how Peter Lang works with academic libraries, visit www.peterlang.com/our-services/libraries

To learn more about OpenAthens federated single sign-on, visit http://openathens.pub/IPvsOpenAthens

Much like the libraries they reside in, academic books have a very classic image. To talk of academic libraries most people conjure up mental images of rows of books with slightly dusty covers, wooden panelling and a hushed atmosphere. Academic books are expected to be dry, serious tomes filled with long words and complicated ideas with pictures restricted to technical diagrams. And let’s not forget the stereotypical librarian and academic — both serious creatures who speak quietly and dress classically.

Yes, there are some academic libraries with wooden panelling and a hushed atmosphere holding beautiful stacks of books, large worn wooden tables and a distinct smell that brings a smile to any bibliophile’s face. And there are certainly dry academic titles with incredibly complex ideas held within their pages, best suited only to the avid reader. And yes, there will also be academics who by their nature are serious and quiet and well-dressed. Beyond that though, is an academic world of more variety and innovation and colour.

Anyone who has visited an academic library in recent times, particularly one that has been revamped and invested in, will know that an academic library is not just a place for quiet study anymore. No more librarians shushing students for coughing or breathing too loudly as the old stereotype suggests. Just as learning has evolved the library is now a multi-functional space for learners to collaborate and explore new ideas and concepts. Modern libraries are designed with learning at their heart with colour, light, and technology all playing their part. Librarians reflect these changes with their focus not just on crafting the perfect book and journal collections for their users but on how they can best support collaboration, learning, and technological advances in the space.

So what about academic books? What does a modern academic title look like?

Well, one thing we know is that they aren’t serious, text-heavy books. The academic world is diverse these days with academics studying everything from sexuality to vampires, from democracy to video games and titles reflect this. Images are increasingly important across many academic subjects.

Graphic Medicine

Graphic novels have bridged the gap between ‘comic’ and ‘academic’ and now serve as a format in their own right for graphic medicine. In this instance the pairing of academic research with a graphic novel format offers a softened narrative, weaving in the emotions and personal experiences that underlie all medical research. It brings the research to a more accessible place. This can be especially important for research in areas where there is expected to be a broad readership made up of medical professionals, researchers, patients themselves, and family members affected.

One such title is ‘Moving along — A co-produced graphic novel about Parkinson’s dance’ by Lisbeth Frølunde, Louise Phillips and Maria Bee Christensen-Strynø. This beautiful book is a graphic novel based on personal experiences of living with Parkinson’s Disease. More specifically it is around the value that movement and dance have for those with the disease. Written for use across the fields of arts and health, medical humanities, graphic medicine and narrative medicine, the format makes it an accessible title for the layperson as well where other medical texts may seem intimidating. Most importantly though the graphic images help to convey the movement and joy the book itself explores. It is hard to imagine words alone being able to capture the impact freedom in dance has on someone living with the restrictions Parkinson’s places on the body.

“Dancing brings joy, energy, and community, and thereby strengthens the will to live, all important when a chronic illness turns your world upside down.”
Moving along — A co-produced graphic novel about Parkinson’s dance

Film Studies

Another genre in which images hold value is film studies. In the past film studies may have been focused on classic films that students and researchers were expected to have already watched. These days though the sheer quantity of films produced around the world makes this implausible. In the US and Canada alone, the average is 600 films a year, and with streaming services and the increased use of language dubbing and captions more and more people are choosing to watch films that originate outside of their country and language. With such a vast repository of source material for academic study it is no surprise that genre studies are increasingly diverse.

One series ‘Genre Fiction and Film Companions’ seeks to provide accessible introductions to key texts within the most popular genres of our time. The latest title ‘The Deep’, edited by Marko Teodorski and Simon Bacon, explores the myths and legends of merfolk and sea monsters and our fascination with the sea, from mythological representations through to present-day visions. Consider how many films explore a relationship with the sea or the creatures that reside in it. From disaster films with a vicious, untamed sea, to the romance genre where the sea offers an escape, to fantasy films that offer up entirely new worlds to explore underwater. To expect a reader to have seen every film up for discussion would be unreasonable and yet to explore the nuances of a scene they need to have seen it, to have the same sense of panic or escape or wonder that the author has recognized. This is why images are so important. Even if a reader has never seen the film, a single image can share details with them about lighting, colour, and costume design, all of which play a part in the analysis of a film regardless of theme.

In addition, for the exploration of film and fiction genres such as ‘The Deep’ which crosses borders of both time and space, it is of the utmost importance to ground the analysis in the culture in which the film and story was created. The understanding of one mythological creature might differ between countries, and perhaps only by illustration can the reader truly understand the same and connect with it.

“The idea of ‘The Deep’ is as culturally specific as it is transcultural”
The Deep — A Companion

Art & Architecture

Similar needs can be found in art and architectural history titles. Excluding the most obvious reason — because art is a visual study — images are often essential for architecture titles. This importance is not just limited to, for example, needing an image of a building to accompany an exploration of the Baroque style. Much like with graphic medicine, images can make architectural history accessible to all. One example would be ‘Denmark in Britain — Architecture, Design and Lifestyle, 1945−1970’ by Bruce Peter. This title explores how Denmark’s national image in Britain was changed by the admiration of its modern architecture and design. Images help to tell the story of this design and clearly show what it was that the British critics and consumers desired. Without images, it would be hard to fully explore the sense of interest in Danish creativity that was felt in Britain at the time and indeed, make the reader feel that same interest.

“This is a splendidly lucid and readable book, a distinctive and a distinguished contribution to Nordic Studies.”
Colin Roth, Centre for Nordic Studies, University of Sheffield

For art history, there are also titles which explore art that is no longer valid or accessible. With a medium such as painting, perhaps with enough words a reader can paint their own picture in their mind of a piece of art. But what about mediums that are confined to history? What about something like ivory, which is now in modern-day considered to be untouchable as a piece of art? ‘Or blanc. Sculpture en ivoire, Congo et discours colonial sous le règne de Léopold II (1885–1909)’ by Sébastien Clerbois is a fantastic example. The book offers a global history of ivory as an art form but unlike other mediums, that many people have experience of seeing and touching, ivory is no longer accepted. Without images to support it, the discourse around such a medium could feel too grounded in the modern understanding of it. Providing images helps the reader to remove their modern mindset and fully embrace art as understood in the context and timeframe the book explores.

History

Bringing the reader back to the appropriate timeframe and setting the context for a title is hugely important for academic titles. Much like historical fiction needs to fully set the scene for the reader, academic titles need to connect their reader to the world they explore. This is never more true than when considering archival history. Peter Raina has recently published two titles under ‘Devolution of Power to Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland: The Inner History’. Both volumes, ‘Tony Blair’s Cabinet Papers, 1997 Volume One, Devolution in Scotland and Wales’ and ‘Tony Blair’s Cabinet Papers, 1997 Volume Two, The Representative Government in Northern Ireland’ present the cabinet papers with commentary. It would be truly impossible to provide such a commentary without offering the Crown documents (reproduced under open license) for the reader to consider. More specifically though, the documents and the illustrations in the text connect the reader to the time they were created. They bring history to life and make understanding and critiquing the decisions made at the time more accessible to the reader.

“It is perhaps the most signal achievement of the era and this expertly curated collection on its genesis and evolution is unquestionably of permanent value.”
Professor Marc Mulholland, Professor of Modern History, Oxford

The Power of the Image

Perhaps it is an academic title itself that can summarize what imagery means in academic research? The Power of the Image in the Work of Lídia Jorge, edited by Nazaré Torrão and José Cândido de Oliveira Martins is a study of the image in the work of Lídia Jorge. Jorge herself has asserted several times that her writing takes a powerful and inspiring image as its starting point and this image concentrates the reflections and ideas explored through her texts. It can be considered that it is not just the images in the final text, for the reader, that hold importance, but also the images that inspire the author and drive them to explore ideas and share them with the world.

“Scholars point out that whenever language opens to universal images and mythologies capable of conveying visions of clarity, the subversive power of beauty is re-asserted”
The Power of the Image in the Work of Lídia Jorge

It is clear that the academic book, like the library and the librarian, has and continues to evolve. Words will forever remain the main tool of the academic but perhaps there is room for another set of tools, the illustrations, images, and photographs that support those words. Words might tell the story of the academic research but an image can tell the story of the world that built that research.