Film and Creative Writing School of English, Drama and American and Canadian Studies College of Arts and Law June 2017
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HALF: A NOVEL AND THE CORRESPONDING THESIS: BETWEEN MEMOIR AND FICTION By RACHEL NEW Thesis submitted to the University of Birmingham for the degree of DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY Department of Film and Creative Writing School of English, Drama and American and Canadian Studies College of Arts and Law June 2017 University of Birmingham Research Archive e-theses repository This unpublished thesis/dissertation is copyright of the author and/or third parties. The intellectual property rights of the author or third parties in respect of this work are as defined by The Copyright Designs and Patents Act 1988 or as modified by any successor legislation. Any use made of information contained in this thesis/dissertation must be in accordance with that legislation and must be properly acknowledged. Further distribution or reproduction in any format is prohibited without the permission of the copyright holder. ABSTRACT Half is a dual narrative following the stories of sisters Sadie and Hannah on a less than harmonious trip round the Western States of America, and Olive Oatman, a fourteen-year- old girl captured by Native Americans in 1851. Olive’s account of servitude and acculturation with the Mohave Indians is in fact the fictionalisation of a memoir, told through a journal Sadie acquires. While the modern narrative in Half is also based extensively on biographical content, the resulting novel is most definitely fiction. The accompanying research explores the point at which memoir and fiction intersect, asking if there is ever absolute truth or absolute fiction when utilising one’s own experiences as a framework for a narrative. Using evidence from historians it examines the extent to which the key texts discussed in the Thesis, classified as Memoir or Fiction, can be seen to occupy the middle ground between both tropes. It also looks at how the novel Half incorporates a complex range of personal experience and imaginative explorations through its key themes of otherness, sisterly relationships and the role of fathers – and how the two narrative strands dovetail in both obvious and unpredictable ways to express the dark subtext of the novel. DEDICATION I dedicate this project to my Mum, Julie, who brought be up to believe I could be or do anything I wanted to. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS There are many people who, during the last three years of self-doubt and hard work, have made this project not only possible, but, in part pleasurable. My first thanks must go to my supervisors. Dr. Richard House, who sowed the first seed of possibility, has supported me in all my writerly endeavours for the last five years. As my PhD supervisor, not only have you offered me the practical support I needed; you gave me confidence in my ability and made me feel that I am indeed a writer. Your work ethic and passion for your own practice has in itself been a great motivator, and your wicked sense of humour always brightened the darkest of situations. My second supervisor, Dr. Elsa Brekkan Payne, has also been invaluable. More than anyone you have shown belief and faith for my project and given me the courage of my convictions. Your attention to detail and your patience with me has been amazing. I must also thank Dr. Luke Kennard for accepting me onto the MA programme, which has led me here. I wish I’d had the chance to work with you again in the last three years Luke as I always found your seminars exciting and your energy inspiring. I am also endlessly grateful to the rest of my PhD cohort. From consistent and valuable feedback to ‘a quick drink’ that turned into five, you have all been a pleasure to work beside and with. Your own work has informed and inspired mine and I appreciate the time you spent reading my work when you had so much of your own to do. Thank you to Rachel and Brianna for trail blazing and showing me what can be done. Thanks to Charley for being alongside me every step of the way, I enjoyed the joint modules we taught very much. Thank you Ed for not only journeying from MA to PhD with me, but for dancing with me at every given opportunity! My biggest thanks go to Henry who has become my reading and writing buddy. You don’t pull your punches and every bit of feedback has been useful. I hope our afternoon red wine and critiquing sessions can continue beyond this point. To every one of my friends and family who have listened to me trying to explain exactly what this project is over the last few years, and supported me and expressed their pride in me, thank you, it means more than you will know. Special thanks to my children Josh and Matilda who never complained at my endless responses of ‘Oh I’d love to do that, but I’ve got to work on my PhD’. Thanks also go to my former colleagues at Heart FM who had to share me with this project and, when I left them to finish my academic studies, sent me on my way with nothing but good wishes. Tim, thank you for believing in me and simply for being in my world. Finally my sister Flossy, thank you for the most amazing road trip round America. I love how we’ve never let our status of ‘half’ sisters mean a thing when it comes to our ever deepening relationship. Thank you for letting me plunder our collective experiences and work them into a new shape. TABLE OF CONTENTS HALF: A NOVEL ............................................................................................................................ 1 1. INTRODUCTION TO CRITICAL THESIS ............................................................................ 243 2. HOW MY WORK FIT INTO THIS THESIS ......................................................................... 245 3. THE IMPORTANCE OF CAPTIVITY NARRATIVES IN THE DEVELOPMENT OF EARLY AMERICAN LITERATURE AND WOMEN’S WRITING ....................................................... 247 4. WHEN BIOGRAPHY BECOMES FICTION ........................................................................ 251 5. MEMOIRS THAT READ LIKE NOVELS ............................................................................. 260 6. THE TRUTH, OR LACK OF IT, IN OLIVE OATMAN’S MEMOIR.......................................... 270 7. MY FICTION WRITING RESPONSE TO THE CAPTIVITY OF THE OATMAN GIRLS .............. 273 8. READING BETWEEN THE LINES IN SEARCH OF SEX ....................................................... 275 9. ELEMENTS OF THE CAPTIVITY OF THE OATMAN GIRLS THAT APPEAR TO BE PURE FICTION ....................................................................................................................... 280 10. HALF – HOW SADIE, HANNAH AND OLIVE FIGURE IN MY WRITING AND MY PERSONAL NARRATIVE ................................................................................................ 284 11. MEMOIR AND FICTION: DEFINITIONS AND DISTINCTIONS ........................................... 294 12. CONCLUSION ............................................................................................................... 297 13. BIBLIOGRAPHY ............................................................................................................. 302 Half Chapter 1 Wearing both ear plugs and eye mask my sister notices neither the alarm nor the sunlight. I shuffle myself, slug-like, to the edge of my queen-size bed and reach over to shake her. Lying on my front, my left arm extended as far as it can, I catch a bit of her quilt with my fingertips. The alarm still sounds, a computer generated medley designed to get louder, bar by bar. I inch far enough to pinch a little bit of skin on the back of her bent arm. She jerks it away. ‘Hannah!’ I hiss. Clearing my throat I try a little more forcefully, ‘Hannah!’ She recoils into a tighter foetal position. I push myself up onto all fours and scramble dramatically out of bed and shake her shoulder hard. ‘What is wrong with you?’ she says sitting up and pulling off her eye mask. She throws back the quilt and marches naked into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. I turn the alarm off and flop back into bed. I don’t want to be edgy and bad- tempered, this is my Wild West odyssey to places experienced only in my childhood imagination. As I watch the gold ceiling fan spin I can hear the bath running, it sounds angry, the water hitting the ceramic tub with force. In my mind I see my sister sitting on the loo, lid down, arms folded. As her rage increases, mine dissipates. Nonetheless, I feel like my holiday has been hijacked. As soon as I agreed to let her come with me she’d started to manipulate the whole thing. I told her clearly it isn’t about big cities and shopping. It’s not a beach holiday or a chance to eat in fancy restaurants. I 1 want the frontier experience, to taste the same dirt the pioneers did in the 19th century. It’s about Yosemite, camping, driving down Big Sur, seeing the desert, feeling the desperate heat of Arizona. ‘It sounds perfect,’ she’d said, ‘such an adventure. How about…’ (this is where the hijack started) ‘...we fly into Vegas? Just one night, and then we can hit the road.’ Since we stepped off the plane yesterday she’s been re-writing the agenda. I wanted to go to the old end of town, to see the wedding chapels and where the Rat Pack used to hang out, soak up some charm and history. But we didn’t get more than five hundred yards down the strip. ‘Oh Sadie, just one drink in Caesars palace.’ She gripped my sweaty arm and pulled me into the casino. The lobby was both beautiful and obscene. Huge, gilt chandeliers hung from an ornate ceiling. Beyond it was the expansive casino. An oversized replica of a gaming arcade at Blackpool pleasure beach, except the guests were better-dressed and infinitely richer. And that was where we spent the evening. I lost one hundred and fifty dollars on the craps table in forty-five minutes. I want to say that I didn’t like it, it was boorish, dull. But it was exhilarating, fast and alien, a social game where everyone at the table had a vested interest in how everyone at the table was doing.