¶ 2 Leave a comment on paragraph 2 4 Recent academic discussions about users’ margins of intervention at various levels in the digital era have addressed the most variegated set of issues. Scholarly contributions have ranged from so-called “hacktivism” and “tactical” use of media, to more intuitive matters such as the computerization of bureaucratic systems, the problem of the digital divide, or the need for theoretical and cultural reflections about a newly emerging “digital aesthetics.” As one of the early scholars who tried to outline a helpful matrix for such complex web of issues, Alexander Galloway in Protocol: How Control Exists After Decentralization offers both a concrete and metaphorical model of our digital condition. He identifies such condition as the outcome of a crucial interplay among a theoretical conceptualization tool offered by critical theory such as the network (or Deleuze and Guattari’s rhizome), a hardware technology such as the digital computer, and a “management style” that he characterizes as protocol. Galloway describes this last concept in computing terms as “the set of recommendations and rules that outline specific technical standards” (6) but of course he also etymologically extends it to “any introductory paper summarizing the key points of a diplomatic agreement or treaty” (7). Most importantly, he treats protocological control as an agency affecting “the functioning of bodies within social space” (12) and as spawning “counter-protological forces” (13). In this paper we assess how the tensions generated by an increasingly mechanized, industrialized, electronic, and software-automated trajectory over the last centuries are reflected in literary expression by female writing subjects who are often seen at the margins of the “social factory.” We take, as the framework of this assessment, the fight for women’s right to productive labor in a mobility-limited nineteenth-century society and the seductive promises of digital labor typical of the apparently digitally-democratized present.
¶ 3 Leave a comment on paragraph 3 1 This paper is concerned with the examination of rule-guided cultural battles enacted by women writers in the United States, Canada, and Australia against both the dominant institutions of their time and their often non-conspicuous strategies for legislating new mechanisms of written expression. In our context of information and media technology, twenty-first-century writers such as John Cayley have observed that
¶ 4 Leave a comment on paragraph 4 1 the institutions that dominate literature and language arts are editorial bodies [emphasis added] (universities, publishers, the world of letters) and for these authorities, the textual event is still ultimately determined by a simple test: ‘can it be printed?’ In recent years, this formulation may have been slightly modified (by the Web in particular) to ‘can it be printed out? (324)
¶ 5 Leave a comment on paragraph 5 3 If we extend Cayley’s primary concern for media affordances to the largest dynamics that have been regulating the social mechanism of published literature in the Anglophone literary world in the last two centuries, we can reconnect the basic simple test imposed by the editorial world with a persistent tendency to reabsorb problems that gender might have regularly generated in many different ways in various historical periods; see, for example, Mary Ann Evans (George Eliot) publishing under a male pseudonym or Phillis Wheatley subjected to a disturbing and concrete instantiation of the above publishing test.
¶ 6 Leave a comment on paragraph 6 4 We argue that selected literary efforts by female authors in the last two centuries seem to frame such situation, in line with Galloway’s argument, as not in the least specific to the digital age. By connecting examples of women’s writing as they emerge from historical periods characterized by remarkable transformations—what David Nye describes as “marker of difference,” i.e. technological networks—we identify an interesting recurrence of patterns. In particular, we identify three interconnected elements that women authors seem to rely on in enacting literary techniques that counter the constraining rule-guided mechanism of their literary environments. In the light of these patterns, it emerges that the digital (as a consequence of the general apparatus shift often associated with transformation in technologies of digital communication) might have, at best, shifted the areas in which such three-element sets work most effectively. In other words, the digital seems to mainly have pushed female writers’ interventions towards different areas of the distributed network represented by the editorial apparatus. From our specific analysis, the digital condition seems to push women writers to reorient their literary intentions from (book) content to (writing) channel, from forms of representation to affordances of representation, from language trope to language act or – to put it in an ultimate version of a scholarly debate on avant-garde modernism – from mimesis to instantiation.
¶ 7 Leave a comment on paragraph 7 2 As Tiziana Terranova remarks in “Technocapitalism and the Politics of Information,” “it is fundamental to move beyond the notion that cyberspace is about escaping reality in order to understand how the reality of the Internet is deeply connected to the development of late postindustrial societies as a whole” (100). As a consequence, an understanding of the role of women writers and their margin of interventions within the (not only editorial) network constituted by the modern word of letters cannot do away from an understanding of such dynamics in the late nineteenth-century – a historical period in which modernity is usually seen as beginning to shape the relation between cultural expression and labor along identity-based concerns that bring us to the subjective cultural and technical work as it relates to postindustrial economy. It is therefore crucial to assess in what social and cultural zones female literary authors felt confident in counter-operating against protological literary control. We begin with a set of nineteenth-century women writers who, in taking as the subject of their fiction the relationship between women’s public labor and middle-class status, challenged editorial protocol and defied genre conventions of the time.
Nineteenth-Century Freedom from Editorial Protocol and Genre Convention
¶ 8 Leave a comment on paragraph 8 0 Although women writers have long dealt with the relationship between women and work, the literature published between 1870 and 1890 saw a new variation on the theme of women’s work emerge. While remnants of domestic fiction abound in the literature of the period, when it came to the work undertaken by the female protagonists, the themes decidedly did not follow in the tradition of domestic fiction. This transitional subgenre that this paper calls women’s career fiction—literature that explored the relationship between women, career, and class—attempted to answer the “woman question” of the period. In an article from the December 1880 issue of The Atlantic Monthly, reformer and writer Kate Gannett Wells contemplates what to make of contemporary women at the intersection of professional work and literature:
¶ 9 Leave a comment on paragraph 9 0 What is this curious product of today, the American girl or woman? Does the heroine of any American novel fitly stand as a type of what she is? And, furthermore, is it possible for any novel, within the next fifty years, truly to depict her as a finality, when she is still emerging from new conditions in a comparatively old civilization, when she doesn’t not yet understand herself, and when her actions are often the awkward results of motives, complex in their character, unconsciously to herself? (818)
¶ 10 Leave a comment on paragraph 10 2 The heroines of women’s career fiction, as this project argues, were indeed “emerging” and beginning to know themselves. This was seen in novels including The Silent Partner (1871) and Doctor Zay (1882) by Elizabeth Stuart Phelps, Work: A Story of Experience (1873) by Louisa May Alcott, Fettered for Life, or, Lord and Master: A Story of To-day (1874) by Lillie Devereux Blake, The Country Doctor (1884) by Sarah Orne Jewett as well as in women’s short stories, poetry, and non-fiction essays of the time. And though many would agree that Wells’ prediction of “fifty years” falls short—women’s literature, to this day, still grapples with what it means to be a career woman—the literature of the time made enormous strides in generating the dialogue that still exists today. This section outlines these strides by marking the three major elements of the plot that are particular to this set of texts. These three elements can be found across women’s career fiction of the 1870s and 1880s and, as this paper argues, ultimately helped transition the heroine away from the True Woman toward the New Woman figure, the eventual product of these counter-protocological attempts.
¶ 11 Leave a comment on paragraph 11 1 Ranging from discrete insinuations to explicit admonishments, these elements include, first, a moment in which a character declares her intent to live an economically independent, self-determined life—a life of personal freedom. This often involves the character’s removal of self from her everyday world. This removal can be partial or total, physical, mental, or imaginary, but some separation of the heroine from her usual world must occur. Variations on this removal include leaving the home, rejecting a romantic or familial relationship that confines her to a one-dimensional duty such as fiancé, wife, mother, or daughter, beginning a new line of employment, and even just setting her mind to making a change in her life. The removal of the heroine from her typical, everyday life is essential to this genre because it helps to focus her attention on the features of identity, selfhood, and symbolic meanings that have contributed to her understanding of her place in society as well as the values, morals, and hopes with which she wishes to replace them. It is through this attention that she moves beyond her station at the opening of the novel and transcends her lot in life. This ceremonial detachment from a previous selfhood marks a crucial distinction among the works that make up women’s career fiction; it tells the reader that the female protagonist is about to participate in something extremely important and also, because of the social circumstances that the readers were undoubtedly familiar with, challenging.
¶ 12 Leave a comment on paragraph 12 1 The second major element of the plot is a desire for intellectual work in traditionally male professions. These characters aspire to engage in professional careers that require skills beyond the nurturing nature of a maternal figure. These story lines touch on, to varying degrees, women’s careers as doctors, entrepreneurs, journalists, businesswomen, and lawyers. More important than transgressing gender boundaries and simply stepping into professions that were considered traditionally male, the careers that these heroines undertake are meaningful, self-fulfilling, intellectual, and passion-filled. These works narrate the relationship between self-authorization and professional work that Wells saw taking hold around her at the time:
¶ 13 Leave a comment on paragraph 13 0 Professional women have found that, however dear the home is, they can exist without it. …The simple fact is that women have found that they can have occupation, respectability, and even dignity disconnected from the home. The tendency is that in the discovery of this possibility they are…acquiring more of self. (Wells 819)
¶ 14 Leave a comment on paragraph 14 0 Wells’ assessment of women of the time parallels the genre’s first two major elements of the plot: separation from a former life (typically, disassociation from the home) and the inclination to develop more of a self through professional work. Particularly interesting in Wells’ assessment is not just her commentary that women have discovered that “they can exist without [the home]” or that women have found that they can have “occupation, respectability, and even dignity” apart from the home, but the idea that Wells finds each of these to be intricately connected with one another—that the links between occupation, selfhood, and life beyond the home are not arbitrary or random, but significant, suggestive, and worthy of attention.
¶ 15 Leave a comment on paragraph 15 1 The third and perhaps most significant feature of this subgenre is the female protagonist’s conscientious choice to work despite an economically secure position. The idea of middle-class women leaving the home to work was one that was increasingly on the minds of an uneasy readership. Leaving the home not only meant (in many cases) financial instability for these characters, but it also threatened gender hierarchies and class order. The question of how to retain one’s gentility and pursue a self-determined path through professional work became a hotly debated topic of the day. In her 1882 book Money-Making for Ladies, Ella Rodman Church raises the issue:
¶ 16 Leave a comment on paragraph 16 0 What, then, shall Ysolte do? Her case is undoubtedly hard. She lacks a new silk dress, means to purchase Christmas presents, and various comforts and belongings of civilized life; but hope may perhaps be found for her and for the rest of that numerous class who, while not obliged to enter the ranks of recognized workingwomen, yet feel the need of increasing a limited income. How a lady can make money and not lose social caste is a question of absorbing interest, but one that is seldom answered satisfactorily. (112)
¶ 17 Leave a comment on paragraph 17 0 And in the June 1880 issue of Harper’s New Monthly Magazine, William H. Rideing in a piece entitled Working-Women in New York distinguishes between three different classes of workingwomen within the first page of his article:
¶ 18 Leave a comment on paragraph 18 0 There are thousands of working-girls in New York who dress and live well, who have aptitude, dexterity, intelligence, and experience. It is they … who, as designers and decorators, find positions of varied usefulness; and who, in retouching photographs, dress-making, and doing various work requiring facility and taste, command fair salaries. There is another class, poorer but still capable of earning a sum sufficient for decent board and clothing—the workers on upholstery, fringes, feathers, and millinery goods. But there are many more thousands in the city with no special ability and no special value, who toil, and blind themselves, and wear themselves to death, for an unimaginable, incredible pittance…. (25)
¶ 19 Leave a comment on paragraph 19 1 While the main purpose of his article is to support and promote the Workingwoman’s Protective Union, a society established to promote the interests of women who obtain a livelihood by other employments than household service, Rideing acknowledges the correlation between class status and the type of work a woman undertakes.
¶ 20 Leave a comment on paragraph 20 1 In the midst of debate over women’s public work, the nineteenth-century writers in this study argued that middle- and upper-class protagonists, in spite of their economically-secure positions, needed to make the conscientious choice to engage in paid work and to pursue professional careers. Unsatisfied with the current state of women’s professional careers, (for example, Ella Rodman Church advises her readers that “Teaching…has always been a popular employment with the educated, chiefly because it is one of the few employments in which a lady may openly engage without the least compromise of her social standing” (116)), they push their protagonists into a wider range of occupations. Popular middle-class female writers were convinced of the benefits of professional careers for women: meaningful work undertaken by their protagonists allowed these writers to challenge traditional notions of womanhood, debunk the myth of companionate marriage, question traditional notions of American masculinity, explore institutional sexism (legal, political, economic, and cultural), and influence American culture. These popular women writers—who were, in many ways, cultural arbiters of their time—sought to reconfigure notions of class status by incorporating work in ways that challenged genre conventions and editorial protocol.
Countering Technological Protocols via Digital Literature
¶ 21 Leave a comment on paragraph 21 3 The powerfully disruptive role the above American women writers have ascribed to imagination in their time can today be found operating on a much larger scale and be said to include larger ideological and philosophical issues in our contemporary world. As Arjun Appadurai explains in “Disjunture and Difference in the Global Cultural Economy,”
¶ 22 Leave a comment on paragraph 22 0 the United States is no longer the puppeteer of a world system of images, but is only one node of a complex transnational construction of imaginary landscapes. The world we live in today is characterized by a new role for the imagination in social life. […] The image, the imagined, the imaginary – these are all terms which direct us to something critical and new in global cultural processes: the imagination as a social practice. (pp. 4-5)
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Far from the Coleridge-ian notion of fantasy, imagination becomes, in Appadurai’s terms, a form of labor to be intended both as “culturally organized practice” and as “a form of negotiation between sites of agency (‘individuals’) and globally defined fields of possibility” (5).
Canadian e-literature author Annie Abrahams and Australian codework poet Mary-Anne Breeze (also known as MEZ) can be seen as modern Anglophone literary catalysts of the instances of the previously discussed nineteenth-century American writers such as Alcott, Phelps, Blake, and Jewett in a world increasingly imposing norms and standards both in digital labor and language-based technological expressions.
¶ 24 Leave a comment on paragraph 24 1 It is sufficient to briefly analyze works such as Abrahams’s Separation/Séparation or MEZ’s _cross.ova.ing 4rm.blog.2.log 07/08 to note how female electronic writing seems both to update the abovementioned elements and translate them into the pragmatic dimension of digitally-mediated language expression. Available both in English and French version, Separation/Séparation was written, in Annie Abrahams’s words, “during a stay in the hospital in 2001. Computer workers often neglect their bodies and by doing so they risk the development of what is called “Repetitive Strain Injury (RSI).’” Abrahams composes Separation/Séparation, that is, precisely to address the possible insurgence of muscoskeletal problems due to fast repetitive movements. As a consequence, the text unfolds according to the underlying idea that it would have to be read at a very slow pace – a pace that, when not respected, would collapse the text itself. When such a textual accident occurs, the resulting textual outcome forces the reader to perform a set of exercises as physical penitence. These exercises de facto interrupt the reader from any action upon the written surface of Separation/Séparation’s literary text and thus they adequately protect her against RSI. It is interesting to note how Abrahams’s imagination works in the direction of building a specific utterance by means of a code-based literary work. We can see such specific utterance as concerned with a fundamental urge toward change. The work, that is, encourages readers to change their attitude towards the machine and, consequently, their relation to (the) work itself. Abrahams’s literary work ultimately urges readers to change their relation to their own body as they usually perform reading.
¶ 25 Leave a comment on paragraph 25 1 Such behavioral change is not just simply mediated by the work but gets actually re-directed towards the digital literary artifact itself in terms of reading practice. Readers have to click slowly in order to read the work itself. The poetics animating Abraham’s work is, in other words, activated by the actual performance of a different way of reading: being patient and/or identifying with the patient allow the reading experience of the text. An important consequence is that an e-literature piece that does not produce behavioral change as a (post-reading) effect but encourages behavioral change as part of its very aesthetic fruition (i.e., along the reading) can be hardly characterized as a literary object we dispose of but rather, we might better consider it as a post-machinic language-based entity we inter-subjectively relate to. If we agree with Noah Wardrip Fruin that “rather than defining the sequence of words for a book or images for a film, today’s authors are increasingly defining the rules for system behavior” (42), then Annie Abrahams’ work is, on the contrary, defining rules for human behavior, i.e. counter-protocological rules that question the ones established by our editorial bodies (and the community of letters at large) for regulating what counts as human reading. A similar operation is the one carried out by MEZ in her codework piece _cross.ova.ing 4rm.blog.2.log 07/08 XXtracts_.
¶ 26 Leave a comment on paragraph 26 0 The term codework (coined by Alan Sondheim in 2001) identifies a variety of artistic practices by an international community of “writers and programmer-artists” whose digital works, according to Florian Cramer in “Digital Code and Literary Text,” “reflects the intrinsic textuality of the computer.” As Rita Raley observes,
¶ 27 Leave a comment on paragraph 27 0 Broadly, codework makes exterior the interior workings of the computer. One formal purpose is to bring the function and code of the computer to a kind of visibility. That is, to illuminate the many layers of code – the tower of programming languages that underlies the representation of natural languages on the screen. For all of the differences among particular instances or events of codework, they all incorporate elements of code, whether executable or not. Code appears in the text, then, in whole or in part, in the form of a functioning script, an operator, and/or a static symbol
¶ 28 Leave a comment on paragraph 28 0 As we can easily derive from these commentaries, the practice of codework has generated a complex debate on the role of code in language and literary art. The issue is, of course, part of a larger debate on the role of materiality in poetic language and on the tradition of experimentations that focused on making it visible.
¶ 29 Leave a comment on paragraph 29 2 Many a critic sees codework precisely as reaction to the widespread assumption that code is inherently and primarily functional. As a result, they treat codework as an opportunity to claim code as a proper signifying system that allows for expressive and semantic practices. In making “exterior the interior workings of the computer,” as Rita Raley observes in the passage quoted above, codework poetry seems therefore to co-opt informatics specialized languages into the larger issue of expressive possibilities of poetic signification as such. Since poetry is usually regarded as a literary form in which language is used for its evocative qualities to enrich its basic meaning, analysis of codework frequently pay attention to the ways in which code can charge poetic creations with additional meaning(s). Our analysis of MEZ’s work can conversely highlight the ways in which the computer idiolect can bring into prominence the rule-guided nature of ordinary language, even in circumstances in which so-called natural language is used for aesthetic purposes.
¶ 30 Leave a comment on paragraph 30 0 Mary-Anne Breeze, or MEZ as she is frequently referred to, is considered one of the most noteworthy authors working on the poetic threshold (or interstice) between so-called natural language and the domains of a traditionally male-oriented profession of computer programming and software design. She is renowned for writing in a personal digital creolized idiom she terms “Mezangelle”, a software-oriented pidgin of which _cross.ova.ing 4rm.blog.2.log 07/08 XXtracts_ offers a vibrant example. Made up of ten separate sections, the piece provides us with a wide range of the different ways in which MEZ blends elements characteristic of code writing with creative juxtapositions of words from natural language. The two components are frequently simultaneously both interconnected and disjointed by means of parenthetical and punctuation signs. A look at some of the sections’ titles can make basic Mezangelle features effectively evident for the unfamiliar reader:
¶ 32 Leave a comment on paragraph 32 0 As we can see, strings of text written in Mezangelle leave a wide margin of negotiation of the ways in which we might execute a text by means of reading according to the circumstances of interaction and presuppositions. When reading title number 2, for example, we can decide to momentarily suspend the bracketed “t” and have the word beta as a qualifier apparently referring to the subsequent bracketed content. Alternatively, we can decide to include the bracketed letter “t” in our ceaseless processing of the text line. In this case we would obtain the word “betta” (ideal phonetic rendition of “better”) as a quite different qualifier for the subsequent string. As we can gather from these samples, the generative possibilities of the Mezangelle idiom arise from the ways in which readers can decide to join, skip, dis-connect, retrieve and/or temporarily suspend linguistic elements along the reading process. In other words, such possibilities are contingent not so much on the polyvalent ambiguity of the syntagmatic units of signification as they are on the ways in which readers play different language-games with the protocol-based mechanisms of reading. Such mechanisms are connected to the rules by which we have over the past centuries implemented punctuation signs in order to suggest, allow, or encourage specific reading performances of texts encoded by means of punctuation. From this point of view, the insertion of elements derived from practices of computer code and digital programming into the text does not necessarily make the processing of Mezangelle by means of reading implicitly new, modern, hi-tech, or futuristic. As George Landow reminds us in Hypertext 3.0, even the familiar printed scholarly editions on which we currently read works by Plato, Vergil, or Augustine already produce an incommensurably changed experience of their texts when compared to the ones supposedly experienced by their contemporary readers:
¶ 33 Leave a comment on paragraph 33 0 Contemporary readers of Plato, Vergil, or Augustine processed texts without interword spacing, capitalization, or punctuation. . . . Such unbroken streams of alphabetic characters made even phonetic literacy a matter of great skill. Since deciphering such texts heavily favored reading aloud, almost all readers experienced texts not only as an occasion for strenuous acts of code breaking but also as a kind of public performance. (100)
¶ 34 Leave a comment on paragraph 34 0 As in the case of complete lack of modern punctuation conventions, technologically-based punctuation – no matter how unfamiliar to the average reader – set up circumstances for “acts of code breaking” that must be negotiated at the level of how to go on along the reading. Reading Mez’s codework poetry relies on a continual process of playing the language-game of inferring rules of reading from the text by keeping in mind some decision along the reading process of Mezangelle. In claiming that joining, skipping, dis-connecting, re-connecting, etc. are the correct steps to be taken according to an alleged general working principle of _cross.ova.ing 4rm.blog.2.log 07/08 XXtracts_, we neither anticipate nor prescribe that readers will enact such kind of actions. We rather simply postulate that the work’s fundamental reading rule has not been followed if readers did not do such kind of actions.
¶ 35 Leave a comment on paragraph 35 0 Although the prefatory notes on the Electronic Literature Collection Vol. 2 explain how “this most software-aware project is actually software independent, as mez has no patience or capacity for operating within the fixity of an ‘application,’ not to mention that of the person, place or nation-state,” the piece results anyway in literary coded instructions. If the Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary states that, in computing terms, an executable file causes “to perform indicated tasks according to encoded instructions,” then we can think about _cross.ova.ing 4rm.blog.2.log 07/08 XXtracts_ as producing such an effect on a human reader rather than on a physical CPU. By establishing mechanisms and circumstances for human rule-following, the codework piece is by default executable. In other words, regardless of the exectuable nature of Mez’s codework piece when processed/read by a digital machine, for the human reader codework is always executable in relation to human rule-following.
¶ 36 Leave a comment on paragraph 36 0 Regardless of the particular interpretation of the text in terms of possible signified meaning(s), then, the crucial aspect concerning our reading is that we make sense of the fragment by means of playfully manipulating the text, i.e by means of operating on the poetic text just as we had to do in the case of Annie Abrahams’s Separation/Séparation.
¶ 37 Leave a comment on paragraph 37 1 It is possible now to conclude that the literary operations carried out by these digital authors are not radically different from their nineteenth century American counterparts once we merely shift our critical focus from the level of forms of representation to the one of language use. The three elements both Abrahams and Mez seem to share with late nineteenth-century American writers can be listed as follows: first, they enact the will to remove their selves from the ordinary world by means of an act of independent self-determined language. Whereas Annie Abrahams creates her poem in the anonymous no-man land of in-between two languages, MEZ goes as far as to even create a whole new language of her own called Mezengelle that lives in the no-man’s land of natural and programming languages. Second, they both express the female (protagonists’) desire for intellectual work in traditionally male professions by operating at the level of code, i.e. by producing intellectual work in the traditionally male-oriented job of software developer. Abrahams introduces in the source code of Separation/Séparation a set of algorithmic conditions in order to counter-regulate human reading while Mez subverts the perfectly validated code by means of dys-functional signification processes. Third, they too abandon the certainty typical of economic security when conceived of as the more familiar editorial mechanisms of print literary expression. These female authors venture in an unknown future made of code-based creative labor and decide to work in the context of e-literature, a literary genre that, far from producing best-selling works by meeting editorial marketing rules, has received very little institutional legitimization yet.
¶ 38 Leave a comment on paragraph 38 0 The transformative dynamics that brought women authors to enact their counter-strategies along an evolving trajectory that, from the subversion of conventional novel genre takes today the form of a repurposing of technology-based speech acts, are hardly conceivable outside scholarly analyses marked by historical specificity. However, the remarkable recurrence of the patterns we highlight across centuries (concerning their updating battles against genre-rules constraints into ones against reading rules) seem to make women literary writing a vigilant – and to some extent trans-historical – resistance against the reconfiguration of editorial concerns that seems to inevitably follow accordingly. As such concerns, predominantly speculative in nature in nineteenth century literary productions, are more and more blending with empirical ones in the creation of new media and digital literary artifact, critical female writing stays as an operational critique on the ways each age regulates its own production and consumption of language-based expression.
¶ 39 Leave a comment on paragraph 39 0 Version of Record: Allukian, Kristin, Carassai, Mauro (2015). Rule-guided Expression: Gender Dissent across Mediated Literary Works. Ada: A Journal of Gender, New Media, and Technology, No.8. 10.7264/N3H41PQ2
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