Reconstruction Vol. 14, No. 3
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A Geocritical Approach to the Role of the Desert in Penelope Lively's Moon Tiger and Michael Ondaatje's The English Patient / Sarah Ager
<1> There are several significant parallels between them as both find and ultimately lose their lovers in the desert and then, after many years have passed, attempt to re-create those spaces in their imaginations as a means of returning to the desert. Marc Augé's concept of 'non-places' can be applied to these novels as a means of exploring whether the physical desert is represented as a transitory space that does not incite a sense of belonging in the characters [1]. The depiction of the desert as a 'non-place' may then be contrasted with Gaston Bachelard's geocritical concept of 'home' as a mental space if we consider that the imagined desert imbues characters with a sense of identity and belonging [2].
<2> As a setting, the chronological juxtapositions of the Egyptian landscape encapsulate the geocritical concept of the stratification of time on a place. In Moon Tiger, the experience of Cairo is described as being able to step, 'from fields to desert in one pace; in which a crumbling monument might be Greek, Roman, Pharaonic, Medieval, Christian, Muslim' [3]. In Egypt, the progression of history and its effect on the desert space are conspicuously evident. Both protagonists are concerned with the stratification of time upon this space. As a historian, Claudia observes the effect of time on ancient civilisations while Almásy, a cartographer, maps the shifting margins of the desert during World War Two. Ondaatje and Lively's non-linear narratives place the reader in the position of archaeologist during the novels' unearthing of the desert's history and the characters' pasts. The characters are represented as self-aware and they re-evaluate their pasts utilising their professional capacities as historian and cartographer respectively. Although Claudia is a historian by profession, she is interested in archaeology and investigates her personal history like an archaeological site, acknowledging that her 'strata are less easily perceived than those of Warwickshire rock' [4]. In a broader sense, Lively and Ondaatje are linked by their interest in archaeology and its application to their novels [5]. Ondaatje stated that, 'as a writer, one is busy with archaeology… on one level you're moving forward, but in the other, you're revealing the past' [6]. The import placed upon archaeology in the characters' and authors' careers can be extended to the psychological landscapes of Claudia and Almásy. The stratification of time on the desert space echoes the superimposition of the characters' personal histories onto the landscape. The desert space becomes a museum of intimate stratified memories contained within the characters' psyches [7].
<3> There are two parallel landscapes: physical and psychological, connected by the protagonists' imaginations: the physical desert landscape with its associated memories and an imagined desert which houses the characters' memories. The grafting of intimate associations upon the desert, the backdrop for the meetings of both sets of lovers, alters the space. The subsequent emotions that Claudia and Almásy inscribe upon the desert due to their relationships transform it from an empty space into a meaningful place. Bachelard argues that 'space considered in isolation is an empty abstraction', and in relation to these novels, it is clear that in the absence of a lover, the space is an empty void, and it only becomes a place when the lovers are together [8]. It can be argued therefore that the desert is defined by and intimately related to the presence (or absence) of lovers within that space.
<4> In Claudia's mind the space is intrinsically linked to the presence of Tom as she 'saw it through him and with him. Now, he and that place are one… his touch, those sights and those smells' [9]. Lively's exploration of the relationship between space and the senses correlates to Westphal's geocritical concept of 'polysensoriality' whereby space is not only perceived by vision but by all senses. Lively's exploration of the relationship between space and the senses correlates to Westphal's geocritical concept of 'polysensoriality' whereby space is not only perceived by vision but by all senses [10]. Henri Lefebvre proposes in The Production of Space that smell, desire and nostalgia are linked within a space [11]. The relationship between smell, space and Tom in Claudia's mind is such that the smells within a space act as signifiers for Tom. The odours of 'Moon Tiger, kerosene, dung and dust', inversely act as signifiers for his absence [12]. The smells assign the space to specific time-locked memories that evoke the identical sensations in Claudia several years later even though 'the place didn't look the same but it felt the same', when she revisits the desert [13].
<5> In comparison, the absence of Katherine, rather than prompting nostalgia in Almásy, affects his sense of identity. As a cartographer, he defines himself by his ability to demarcate the desert space into a place that can be located on a map [14]. Almásy says 'I am a man who can recognise an unnamed town by its skeletal shape on a map' [15]. In this way, maps give him a sense of identity. If he knows where he is, he knows who he is. When Katherine is absent from the space however and 'he lies in the room surrounded by the pale maps' and 'he is without Katherine', the physical absence supersedes the value of the maps [16]. Indeed 'when he is without her' he can no longer identify himself as a man 'who has never felt alone in the miles of longitude between desert towns' [17]. Once Katherine deserts, so to speak, the desert is defined by the void, imbuing Almásy with a sense of loneliness. This leads to Almásy's rejection of maps when he exclaims 'all I desired was to walk upon an earth that had no maps' and instead he creates a mental map by delineating in narrative the spaces of his life [18].
<6> Just as Almásy defines himself by his ability to map spaces, he also recognises that the desert changes his identity. Marc Augé claims that the question of identity lies 'at the heart of all the spatial arrangements' [19]. The relationship between identity and the desert can be related to Augé's concept of the 'non-place', the spaces which incite no sense of belonging in a person. They create 'neither singular identity nor relations; only solitude, and similitude' [20]. The spaces Augé classifies as 'non-places' are frequently associated with transport: airports and motorways for instance; transitional spaces that one crosses without settling. While the desert is not singled out as a 'non-place' by Augé, he states that 'the traveller's space may thus be the archetype of 'non-place' [21]. The desert can thus be regarded as an archetype of a traveller's space due to its nature as a temporary abode and as a space that is to be crossed rather than lived in.
<7> The transitional quality of desert [22] is reinforced if considered in relation to the etymologically related transitive verb desert [23] which means 'to abandon' or 'to depart from (a place or position)'. The desert is a transitional space that requires an absence created by something departing from it. When Claudia remains in the desert she claims 'there are moments, out here in this place and at this time, when she feels that she is untethered... adrift in the cosmos'. The words 'untethered' and 'adrift' emphasise the idea that one cannot settle in the desert and one's ability to form a sense of identity is affected. If 'home' is 'a place, region, or state to which one properly belongs' then a desert seems to be diametrically opposed to the concept of 'home' as you cannot have a true sense of 'properly' belonging to that space [24]. The subsequent phrase in this definition of 'home', however, is as a place 'in which one's affections centre' [25]. This description suggests that the only way in which the protagonists can have a sense of belonging to the desert is if they inhabit the space with a loved one.
<8> The protagonists' inability to settle within the desert space is magnified by the fact that they are 'displaced persons' in Egypt and Libya. While a displaced person is generally forced to leave their birth country, Almásy has a conscious objective to 'get away from his homeland' and lose his identity [26]. He states, 'I wanted to erase my name and the place I had come from' [27]. This distinction can be related to the words of the poet Edmond Jabes who wrote, 'you do not go into the desert to find identity but to lose it, to lose your personality, to become anonymous. You make yourself void' [28]. Almásy reveals a similar desire for anonymity in the desert when he claims,
[We] wished to remove the clothing of our countries… We disappeared into landscape [29].
The metaphorical stripping of national clothing corresponds to Salman Rushdie's claim that the crossing the frontier strips the migrant of identity [30]. Almásy's words go further than simply saying the migrant loses his identity by suggesting a process of absorption by the desert. Thus the body and space become indistinguishable from one another, allowing Almásy to disappear. Indeed, absorption is a characteristic of the desert city in Moon Tiger as Cairo 'both absorbed and ignored' the British army which imposed itself upon the landscape [31]. The desert is depicted as both active and passive in Lively's descriptions. This active representation is further demonstrated when Claudia describes the desert sands as 'starting to digest the broken vehicles'. Ondaatje's representation however, suggests that absorption by the desert is protective rather than destructive for Almásy. The desert shields Almásy from recognition by enemies. Almásy achieves this desired anonymity and declares that 'by the time the war arrived, after ten years in the desert, it was easy for me to slip across borders, not to belong to anyone, to any nation' [32]. Therefore detachment from his roots is a positive means of survival for Almásy.
<9> During the process of shedding his ethnic and cultural identities, Almásy develops a desert mentality. This is evident in his rejection of concepts of ancestry, ethnicity and permanence. The requirement to think like a desert native as a means of assimilation is suggested by T.E. Lawrence who wrote 'the effort for these years to live in the dress of Arabs, and to imitate their mental foundation, quitted me of my English self' [33]. Lawrence suggests that it is not sufficient to dress superficially as a native; one has to emulate their psychological essence. By understanding their way of thinking, one can begin to behave like a native. Similarly, Almásy rejects his own ancestry as a result of his psychological interaction with the desert space. It is implied by Ondaatje that Almásy is attempting to cast off the weight of ancestry associated with being a Count when he declares 'erase the family name!' Almásy's claim that he 'was taught such things by the desert' suggests that the space has taken on an educative role [34]. Similarly, Lawrence describes how the Beduins 'lost material ties... and other complications to achieve a personal liberty' indicating that the desert can be a liberating space where you are freed from cultural obligations [35].
<10> Not only does Almásy reject his own ancestry, Ondaatje also portrays him as anti-nationalist. He states, 'we were German, English, Hungarian, African - all of us insignificant to them. Gradually we became nationless. I came to hate nations' [36]. On the surface, Almásy appears to be referring to his fellow cartographers, but this could be interpreted a subtle reference by Ondaatje to Almásy's multiple ethnic identities. The indicated nationalities are those Almásy has been mistaken for or comes to identify with; Hungarian by birth, German by trade, English by accent, and African by geographical location in the desert. Ondaatje's use of first person plural, while being inclusive of multiple ethnicities, demonstrates Almásy's evasion of being limited to one fixed identity. Here lies the predicament of going native. The traveller loses his original identity but can never be truly native. This complexity is described by Lawrence as having 'dropped one form and not taken on the other' [37]. In the same way, Almásy no longer identifies himself as Hungarian but neither does he classify himself as native.
<11> The only identity available to Almásy is anonymity. As such he can, in the words of Lawrence, go 'unnoticed' thereby avoiding 'frictions' [38]. Although Almásy adopts ethnic anonymity in an attempt to liberate himself, it is actually the crucial factor in his capture. This contradiction can be related to Augé's concept of non-places because although they do not instil a sense of identity, Augé argues that it requisite to show a document of identification to enter or leave a non-place [39]. When the British discover Almásy in the desert, he has no identification because Bedouins stole his personal documents. Therefore Almásy's anonymity marks him as 'other' and so he is labelled as a spy.
<12> More generally, the protagonists' outlooks on life are affected by observations made of the desert, specifically the concept of permanence. They both observe the effect of time on the desert space that was once ocean is now barren and arid. After discovering a fossilised starfish, Claudia reflects 'here in the desert, which had been an old sea, where nothing was strapped down or permanent, everything drifted' [40]. The stratification of time on the desert functions as evidence of the inescapable evolution of spaces which man cannot control. The 'fragility of places' as described by Claudia, is epitomised by Lively's description of Memphis as 'a series barely discernable irregularities' on the landscape [41]. Ondaatje depicts Almásy adopting a similar attitude towards permanence in his emotional outlook on love as Almásy says, 'I don't believe in permanence, in relationships that last ages'. Claudia, rather than being defeatist, seeks refuge in the permanence of language to preserve her relationship with Tom. She believes in 'the power of language. Preserving the ephemeral; giving form to dreams, permanence to sparks of sunlight' [42]. Claudia realises that the physical desert cannot fully act as a signifier for Tom because it changes over time. The sands shift. Claudia counters the instability of spaces using language and narrative to secure her memories by re-creating the desert as a psychological space.
<13> Through the use of narrative, Claudia maps an imaginary space that both she and Tom can occupy. The relationship between narrative and space is described by Robert T. Tally who argues that 'in a sense, all writing partakes in a form of cartography, since even the most realistic map does not truly depict the space' [43]. According to this logic, an imaginary depiction is just as valid as a supposedly factual depiction because a space can only be partially perceived rather than completely captured in words. This corresponds to a key concept of Geocriticism, the idea that imaginary spaces should be studied in the same way as real spaces. Bachelard expressed the idea that 'spaces exist because they are perceived' [44]. In order to map an imagined desert space, there are several spatial boundaries Claudia has to overcome. She is doubly separated from Tom. Not only are they spatially divided, but they also occupy different temporal spaces after Tom's death. He is 'left behind, in another place and another time' [45]. Lively depicts time as a physical barrier as Tom is 'shut away behind a glass screen of time' [46]. Claudia reflects, however, that, 'death is total absence, you said. Yes and no. You are not absent so long as you are in my head' [47]. Claudia attempts to cope with Tom's death and subsequent absence by transposing the physical desert in which they co-inhabited for a short time, onto the mental landscape of an imagined desert. Claudia states, 'the mirror world, the vanishing oasis, is in my head now, not in his, and he is with it', demonstrating that Claudia and Tom are united in her memories [48].
<14> Lively's image of the desert oasis brings to mind the psychological phenomenon of the mirage, a displaced image, reinforced by the preceding word, 'mirror', which shares the same etymological root as mirage [49]. Earlier in the novel, Tom is described observing that for every mirage, somewhere there is the 'mirror place going on about its business' [50]. While in the 'real' world of the frame narrative Claudia and Tom are separated; in the realm of Claudia's imagination, the lovers are reunited in a mirror world of memory. Lively reveals through the previous extract however, the complexities and potential flaws of relying on memory as a permanent means of containment. The word 'mirror' illustrates the fact that Claudia's mental landscape is a mere reflection of the desert that she experienced. By extension, her relationship with Tom within this space is an abstract reflection rather than something tangible. The phrase 'vanishing oasis' is a metaphor for the fact that Claudia's mental desert construction will fade because memories deteriorate over time. Claudia's awareness of vanishing memories is exacerbated by her knowledge that she is dying. Memories can only be held in Claudia's mind for as long as she has consciousness. Lively poignantly highlights the loss of memories after death in the latter part of Claudia's statement, 'I preserve you, as others will preserve me. For a while', which demonstrates Claudia's acceptance that memories are not permanent [51].
<15> Within the novels' framing narratives Claudia and Almásy are on the verge of dying in hospital and if considered in terms of non-places, neither author portrays the hospitals as imbuing any sense of belonging in either protagonist. Augé categorises hospitals as non-places because they are transitional places that you do not dwell in for long periods [52]. Claudia loses her identity as she is patronised by nurses who treat her as a generic elderly non-entity. A nurse enquires 'was she someone?' to which a doctor replies 'probably'. Similarly, Almásy is an invalid in hospital. The desert provides Claudia and Almásy with a greater sense of identity than their current surroundings as they are not 'at home' in their respective hospital beds. Not only does the desert provide them with a stronger sense of identity than the hospital but it also acts as an imaginary refuge from their present circumstances. Their psychological wanderings in the desert are presented as a form of escapism from their physical pain. Claudia, dying of cancer, finds comfort in nostalgia about her relationship with Tom. For her, the fictional desert is 'more enduring than [the] reality' of the sterile hospital [53].
<16> Similarly, Almásy seeks refuge in an imagined desert as he lies in hospital dying as a result of physical injuries. The narrative desert space he maps is a form of escapism from his pain. Almásy's re-imagining of the desert can also be related to Lively's view that although events in life are often arbitrary, 'we re-write and edit the narrative of our life' to make it 'seem like there was a plan' [54]. It could be argued therefore that Almásy's nostalgia is an attempt to comprehend how he arrived at his current location by re-examining his past.
<17> If Claudia and Almásy are able to find refuge in the idea of the desert, this detail implies that the desert cannot be a non-place but instead it should be considered in terms of 'home', a place of refuge [55]. Within this context, 'home' is a mental state with the desert being the visual manifestation' [56]. This representation demonstrates Gaston Bachelard's concept of 'home' as an intimate mental space [57]. Bachelard says 'the house protects the dreamer, the house allows one to dream in peace', emphasising the importance of protection and shelter within that space [58]. Bachelard continues, 'the sheltered being gives limits to his shelter', which implies 'home' can offer protagonists the possibility of control [59]. As architects of their imagination, Claudia and Almásy condense the indefinable sprawling desert into the constructed confines of an imagined desert. In theory, the protagonists can control their created deserts. In reality, the process is more complex. Both authors portray the protagonists experiencing difficulty in controlling their imagined spaces due to their declining health and the effect of drugs.
<18> Claudia's general state of mind is more stable than Almásy, whose mental capability is impaired by morphine. The crucial factor in Claudia's relative stability however is the fact that the central core of her life is Tom rather than the desert. Although the desert represents many things for Claudia, such as transience and spatial instability, the presence of Tom within a space overrides the value of the space itself. For instance, Claudia says 'it had seemed, for the year or so in which I had been there, merely a backcloth', revealing that the desert space is an arbitrary setting to their love affair. This coincidence does not diminish, however, the vital role that the desert assumes for Claudia in later life. It is not so much the desert itself but the process of recreating it in her mind which enables Claudia to access memories of Tom. Lively depicts the desert as the medium through which Claudia can address Tom directly as demonstrated by Claudia's reflection, 'you are also, now, a part of me, as immediate and as close as my own other selves' [60]. The imagined desert is a catalyst through which Tom becomes an integral part of Claudia's identity, thereby uniting the otherwise divided lovers.
<19> Before considering Almásy's psychological return to the desert one has to take into account that Almásy's relationship with the desert is more complex than that of Claudia's. An important factor is the greater time Almásy spent in the desert. He had already shed his European identity in the years before meeting Katherine. Therefore Almásy's desert identity cannot simply be considered in terms of his romantic relationship. Certainly, Ondaatje presents Almásy's love of Katherine and her presence or absence within the space as significant to Almásy's desert experience. He states that he has 'translated her strangely into my text of the desert', showing that Katherine has been interwoven into Almásy's desert narrative, just as Tom is interwoven into Claudia's psychological desert [61]. Although acknowledging her importance, Ondaatje does not portray Katherine as the fundamental reason for Almásy's desire to return to the desert. Unlike Claudia, Almásy does not require a lover to belong to the desert. Almásy wants to be in the desert physically even after Katherine's death. The core of Almásy's life is the desert, not Katherine. Therefore, Ondaatje's description of Almásy's duration in hospital can be seen as a personal struggle to deal with his geographical displacement.
<20> Almásy's relationship with the desert should be considered in terms of his professional capacity as a cartographer. As such, he has an innate need to be somewhere that is uncharted. Therefore, the unmapped desert afforded him a professional identity as a cartographer which the mapped Tuscan landscape cannot provide. Imagining the desert does not satisfy Almásy's inherent need to be there physically. The desert gives him his sense of belonging, and in that sense it is his home. Bachelard's concept, 'without it [home], man would be a dispersed being', can be applied to Almásy when he is removed from the desert. He becomes a dispersed being, without an ethnic or physical identity, in the hospital [62]. Even more significant is the fact that Almásy's 'essence' remains in the desert. It is the place to which he is led back in his imagination even though he remains in the hospital physically. Ondaatje demonstrates the idea of Almásy's essence being divided from his physical body when Hana observes that his 'sleeping body is probably miles away in the desert' [63]. Similarly, Claudia's essence remains in the desert but she does not become a divided being. Claudia finds unity from being with Tom on an emotional rather than physical level within her own psyche.
<21> While Claudia's imagination provides her with stability, Almásy's relationship with his imagined desert demonstrates the hazards of mental wandering. Augé states that, 'dream journeys become dangerous when they venture too far from the body conceived as a centre' [64]. Almásy attempts to return to the desert in his mind but he confuses reality and imagination and loses the ability to locate where he is. Caravaggio observes that Almásy 'doesn't know where the fuck he is' [65]. This is particularly destabilising for someone who relies on an awareness of geographical position for their sense of identity. Almásy's inability to perceive his location comes, in part, from increasing drug dependence. The desert and 'its architecture of morphine' [66], is a world constructed by drugs which implode 'time and geography the way maps compress the world onto a two-dimensional sheet of paper' [67]. His confusion is exacerbated by his psychological wanderings which position him in two spaces simultaneously: both the physical hospital bed and the psychological desert. Although Almásy attempts to use the imagined desert as a means of getting home, he instead loses himself further because he is increasingly unable to distinguish between real and imagined spaces and the chronology of events which occurred within them. Likewise, Claudia occupies two spaces: the real hospital and her imagined desert. The key difference being that Claudia's memories, which are scattered across diverse locations, are united in the mental concept of 'home' (represented by the desert) which she carries in her mind. Claudia's desert home stabilises her even when she is unsure whether she is occupying a real or imagined world.
<22> From a geocritical perspective, the role of the desert in Moon Tiger and The English Patient corresponds to Bachelard's concept of 'home', particularly if considered in conjunction with Anshuman Mondel's assertion that "'home' is where the 'self' is located" [68]. The desert is the space where the protagonists are able to define themselves, providing them with an awareness of who they are. It is the desert which gives them an identity. For Claudia, she defines herself in relation to Tom. Subsequently, her identity comes from being emotionally united with him in the space of a psychological desert. Hence the imagined desert provides her with a sense of wholeness despite Tom's physical absence. Almásy is able to locate, and therefore identify himself, in the Saharan desert. Almásy's imagined desert therefore remains a non-place for him because it is the physical act of being in the desert which gives him his sense of identity. Indeed, Almásy adapted himself to the desert so effectively that he became unable to identify himself outside the desert space. He becomes reliant on the desert, more so than his dependence on morphine which Ondaatje's descriptions suggest is a desperate attempt to return to the desert. Ondaatje's portrayal of Almásy's struggle in hospital show that rather than feeling 'detachment' and 'isolation' in the desert, emotions described by Lawrence as inevitable products of adapting to the desert, Almásy experiences these negative feelings in the Tuscan space because he is removed from the physical desert, his 'home' [69]. Without being able to identify himself, Almásy cannot feel at 'home' and thus he dies a dispersed and divided being.
Notes
[1] Marc Augé, Non-lieux. Non-places : Introduction to an Anthropology of Supermodernity, trans. by John Howe. (London : Verso, 1995, 2000 edition).
[2] Gaston Bachelard, The Poetics of Space, Trans. Maria Jolas. (Boston: Beacon Press, 1969).
[3] Penelope Lively, Moon Tiger (London: Penguin Books Ltd, 2006), 89.
[4] Ibid. p14.
[5] Lively, "An Evening with Penelope Lively" (Interview at 'The Arthur Miller Centre Literary Festival Autumn 2010', Norwich, University of East Anglia, 17 Nov 2010).
[6] Ellen Kanner, "New discoveries from the author of The English Patient" in Bookpage Interview, http://www.bookpage.com/ (Miami: 2000) Accessed 10 Nov 2010.
[7] Silvia Albertazzi, Lecture: "Introduzione alla Geocritica" (Bologna: Sala Convegni, 10 Oct 2009).
[8] Bachelard, The Poetics of Space, 12.
[9] Lively, Moon Tiger, 175.
[10] Albertazzi, "Introduzione alla Geocritica."
[11] Henri Lefebvre, The Production of Space (Oxford: Blackwell, 1992) , 197.
[12] Lively, Moon Tiger, 50.
[13] Ibid. 68.
[14] (OED: place, n.1 5a) "A particular part of region of space; a physical locality" (Draft Revision. Sept. 2010)
[15] Ondaatje, The English Patient, 19.
[16] Ibid. 156.
[17] Ibid. 165.
[18] Ibid. 277.
[19] Augé, Non-lieux. Non-places, 58.
[20] Ibid. 103.
[21] Ibid. 85-6.
[22] (OED: desert, n.2 1).
[23] (OED: desert, v.1 1).
[24] (OED: home, n.1 a. 5).
[25] Ibid.
[26] Ondaatje, The English Patient, 188.
[27] Ibid. 147.
[28] David Jaspar, The Sacred Desert: Religion, Literature, Art and Culture (Oxford: Blackwell Publishing Ltd, 2008).
[29] Ondaatje, 147.
[30] Salman Rushdie, Step Across This Line: Collected Nonfiction 1992-2002 (New York, NY: Random House, 2002).
[31] Lively, Moon Tiger, 75.
[32] Ondaatje, 147.
[33] T. E. Lawrence, Seven Pillars of Wisdom: A Triumph (Oxford: Alden Press, privately printed 1926 edition), 31.
[34] Ondaatje, 147.
[35] Lawrence, 31.
[36] Ondaatje, 147.
[37] Lawrence, 31.
[38] Ibid. 30.
[39] Augé, Non-lieux. Non-places, 102.
[40] Ondaatje, 244.
[41] Lively, Moon Tiger, 113
[42] Ibid. 9.
[43] Robert T. Tally Jr., 'Review of Bertrand Westphal's La Géocritique: Réel, Fiction, Espace,' in L'Esprit Créateur: The International Quarterly of French and Francophone Studies 49.3 (Fall 2009): 134.
[44] Bachelard, The Poetics of Space, 12.
[45] Lively, Moon Tiger, 206.
[46] Ibid.
[47] Ibid.
[48] Ibid. 104.
[49] (OED: mirror, n.) Third edition, Aug 2010; online version, Nov 2010. <http://www.oed.com>. Accessed 27 Dec 2010.
[50] Lively, Moon Tiger, 102.
[51] Ibid. 206.
[52] Augé, Non-lieux. Non-places, 78.
[53] Lively, Moon Tiger, 6.
[54] Lively, Interview: 'An Evening with Penelope Lively' as part of 'The Arthur Miller Centre Literary Festival Autumn 2010' (Norwich: University of East Anglia, Lecture Theatre 1, 17/11/10).
[55] (OED: home, n.1 and a.) Second Edition, 1989.
[56] Ibid.
[57] Bachelard, 5.
[58] Ibid.
[59] Ibid.
[60] Lively, Moon Tiger, 206.
[61] Ondaatje, 250.
[62] Bachelard, 7.
[63] Ondaatje, 37.
[64] Augé, 58.
[65] Ondaatje, 129.
[66] Ibid.
[67] Ibid. 161.
[68] Anshuman A. Mondel, 'The Ground Beneath Her Feet and Fury', in The Cambridge Companion to Salman Rushdie, ed. Abdulrazak Gurnah, (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007), 179.
[69] Lawrence, 32.
Works Cited
Primary Texts
Ondaatje, Michael. The English Patient (London: Picador, 1993)
Lawrence, T. E., Seven Pillars of Wisdom (Oxford: Alden Press, privately printed 1926 edition)
Lively, Penelope, Moon Tiger (London: Penguin Books Ltd, 1989)
Secondary Resources
Albertazzi, Silvia, 'Geolinguistica' in Abbecedario Postcoloniale, ed. by R. Vecchi, (Macerata: Quodlibet, 2003).
Albertazzi, Silvia, Lecture: 'Introduzione alla Geolinguistica' (Bologna: Universitá di Bologna, 11 Nov 2009).
Augé, Marc. Non-lieux. Non-places: Introduction to an Anthropology of Supermodernity; trans. by John Howe. (London: Verso, 1995).
Bachelard, Gaston. The Poetics of Space, Trans. Maria Jolas. (Boston: Beacon Press, 1969)
Kanner, Ellen, 'New discoveries from the author of The English Patient' in Bookpage (Interview), < http://www.bookpage.com/> (Miami: 2000),. Accessed 10 Nov 2010.
Lefebvre, Henri. The Production of Space (Oxford: Blackwell, 1992).
Lively, Penelope, Interview: 'An Evening with Penelope Lively' as part of 'The Arthur Miller Centre Literary Festival Autumn 2010' (Norwich: University of East Anglia, 17 Nov 2010).
Mondel, Anshuman A., 'The Ground Beneath Her Feet and Fury', in The Cambridge Companion to Salman Rushdie, ed. by Abdulrazak Gurnah, (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007).
Jasper, David. The Sacred Desert: Religion, Literature, Art, and Culture (Oxford: Blackwell Publishing Ltd, 2008).
Rushdie, Salman, Step Across This Line: Collected Nonfiction 1992-2002 (New York, NY: Random House, 2002).
Rushdie, Salman, Imaginary Homelands (London: Granta Books, 1992).
Soja, Edward W., Postmodern Geographies: The Reassertion of Space in Critical Social Theory (London: Verso, 1989).
Tally, Robert T, 'Review of Bertrand Westphal's La Géocritique: Réel, fiction, espace', in L'Esprit Créateur: The International Quarterly of French and Francophone Studies, Volume 49.3 (Fall 2009): 134.
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