“Beautiful shells from the shore” Thomas Jefferson’s Sacred Grotto of 1771

Wednesday 24 January 2018:  A Presentation by Alley Jordan, University of Edinburgh.

In 1771, the twenty-eight-year-old Thomas Jefferson drew up plans for a classical grotto on his Virginian estate.  The scheme embraced a physical and an imaginary world, profoundly influenced by the literature of the ancient world.  Sadly for posterity, the ideas were never realised-financial constraints saw to that – but his original plans and additional notes of 1787 provide a tantalising glimpse into Jefferson’s neo-classical vision.  In a fascinating paper, Alley Jordan, a second year PhD student at the University of Edinburgh, considered Jefferson’s grotto in its eighteenth-century context:  what was its purpose? what was nature of the Grecian ideal which had inspired it? And how does the physical creation of a neo-classical grotto relate to notions of Enlightenment?

The grotto, Alley argued, served many purposes but ultimately it was a place where Jefferson could materialise or re-create his own imagination. Jefferson was steeped in a classical tradition, his grotto a conscious attempt to bring classical antiquity to life. In ancient Greece, the grotto had represented a place of escape.  Situated in the mountains, it was a world away from the toils of everyday life. Its life-healing waters were associated with the god Asclepius and connected with the rivers of the Underworld.  In early modern times, the grotto came to be associated with melancholy, but Jefferson wanted to recreate the classical idea.  In his mind’s eye, he visualised a world removed from the day to day burdens of running a plantation where he could act out his own Theocritan idyll.  He believed in the healing powers of spring water and, as the ancients, imagined the presence of Asclepius.  Jefferson’s grotto, however, would be both healing and ornamental. He planned a tiered water fall which would make use of the natural waterfalls of Virginia and a sacred temple, similar perhaps to the Queen’s Temple at Stowe.  Music and musical instrument would be present in the temple, a conscious echo of a world reflected by the poetry of Theocritus and Virgil. As Alley argued, the grotto was an artistic work which enabled Jefferson to imagine himself in an artistic dreamland.

Ttumblr_inline_oounqzFEf41rt5uaz_540he plan for Jefferson’s grotto, consistent with the classical notion of a locus amoenus,  comprised a physical and mystical experience. Each part of the cave would elicit a different emotional response;  a visit represented a journey from dark to light and from cold to hot, whilst the presence of stone provided an important connection with geology and geography.  As Alley argued, the grotto was a place of transformation and enlightenment in the 18th century.

Alley’s paper generated animated discussion from an appreciative audience.  The Graduate Workshop  wishes Alley well with her continuing research.


Our next Graduate Workshop takes place on Wednesday 7 February 2018 when our speaker will be Gintare Venzlauskaite from the University of Glasgow. Her paper is entitled:

From Post-War West to Post-soviet east: Manifestations of Displacement, Collective Memory, and Lithuanian Diasporic Experience Revisited

It considers WWII displacements from Lithuania.  To what extent did they have an effect on the country’s memory landscape? By providing a retrospective view of discursive patterns regarding population losses and their role in national identity construction, Gintare’s study travels across the US and Russia where a significant part of these losses has been transformed into diasporic communities and their networks.

lettersiberiaThe workshop will take place at 1 pm in G 16 in the William Robertson Wing of the Old Medical School in Teviot Place.

Everyone is welcome to attend!

Conceptualising Whiteness in the Black Imagination

Review by Devin Grier

On 28 November 2017, Rianna Walcott rounded up our last presentation of the first semester. Rianna is nearing the end of her first year as a digital humanities PhD student at King’s College London, having completed undergraduate and Masters degrees in English Literature at the University of Edinburgh.   Her doctoral research, evolving from her Masters dissertation, considers the notion of ‘whiteness’ within black spheres.  She is currently examining the use of language by black women and women of colour in closed and secret Facebook groups, and the extent to which these groups are able to provide space to critique whiteness.

28 November The WindrushThe experience of blacks in postcolonial Britain provided  the starting point for Rianna’s presentation. Whilst the arrival of the SS Empire Windrush in 1948, carrying almost 500 Jamaicans, was not the first landfall made by people of African descent to Britain, it marked the first influx of widespread migration from the West Indies to the United Kingdom. In the mid-twentieth century, the increase in Afro-Caribbean immigrants provoked a political backlash from those intent on preserving Britain’s imperial image. Rianna argued that anxieties among the white population resulted from a combination of racial and national identities. In order to differentiate themselves from the West Indians, a familiar white ‘we’ was constructed against a dangerous ‘black’ unknown. Because race and nationality became linked, being ‘British’ was predicated on white history. Rianna  argued that it was at this point that Britain was beginning to be disrupted by the black other – or more accurately by a black other that dared to enter white space.”

Postcolonial scholarship based on racial identity and ‘othering’ has tended to distinguish the non-white from the ‘neutral’ position of a white, western male. Through the window of literature, Rianna sought to invert this viewpoint by prioritizing black observation and analyzing several texts authored by West Indians and their British descendants, from the Windrush period to the modern day. In the course of her discussion, she made particular reference to Sam Selvon’s novel, The Lonely Londoners (1956), and Zadie Smith’s literary debut, White Teeth (2000).

Novels“The novels,” Rianna contended, “are linked by examination of the physical, literary and social dimensions of ‘space.’ As both the container of everyday life and an active agent or social force. The physical space of London, and how black writers conceptualize the city as a multicultural space, is central to my argument.” In each book, the black character is written into what is self evidently a white space: “Galahad walks through Piccadilly Circus while naming what he sees, and, in a metafictional gesture, White Teeth’s Samad viscerally links his colonised body with imperial space by inscribing his name in blood onto a bench in Trafalgar Square.”

In conclusion, Rianna summarized the literary representations of migrants who transform their new spaces: “Spaces are defined in relation to the self, and treated as Sadie Smithsomething to be assimilated into, creolised, or rejected from.” Presented in the form of literature, these various processes of assimilation highlight the paradoxical nature of Britain’s physical space: “The narratives show black immigrants and black Britons futilely searching for a compromise between discrete, segregated racial identities and the threat of dissolution through multiculturalism.”

Outside her doctoral research, Rianna has pursued related interests. In early 2017, she co-founded Project Myopia, a website dedicated to decolonizing and diversifying university curricula. The project crowd-sources reviews of diverse materials and advocates their inclusion in academic syllabuses.

The workshop was well-attended, with a very active and insightful question and answer session following the presentation. We wish Rianna the best of luck with her future studies.

 

The Establishment of the Association of Ukrainians in Great Britain and its influence on the Ukrainian Diaspora in Scotland

Review by Devin Grier

Peter Kormylo, from the University of Glasgow, joined us on 14 October 2017. Recently retired from a career in public education, Peter now dedicates his time to researching the history of the Ukrainian community in Scotland.  His aim is to fill a wide gap in knowledge, as the literature on the Ukrainian diaspora in the United Kingdom is lacking. Since Scotland’s Ukrainian community has a relatively low profile, it tends to be forgotten.

During the workshop, Peter identified  four distinct waves of Ukrainian migration to Scotland:

Wave 1. Late nineteenth, early twentieth century: migrant laborers who intended to find

Ukrainian Bear

Travelling Ukrainian with his dancing bear outside the Hole in the Wall Pub, Dumfries, 1907

work in the Americas. Many from Ukraine who were destined to cross the Atlantic  stopped off in Scottish ports including  Leith. At this point in their travels, some migrants had already run out of money and decided to disembark in Scotland. Referred as the ‘Little Russians’ by British natives, this small stream of Ukrainians  disappeared into Scottish society.

Wave 2. 1905-1917: political refugees of the Russian Revolution. During this period, the UK government implemented the 1905 Aliens Act which controlled the level of immigration from eastern Europe. The main requirement for entry was that an individual had show  a means of support. As a result, the elite classes made up the majority of this second migratory stream.

Wave 3.  1939-1947: WWII and post-war immigrantsThis period contained four main  elements:

  • 1939: Royal Canadian Airforce: second generation Ukrainians from Canada.
  • 1942: Polish Armed Forces.
  • 1946: Ukrainian displaced persons who refused Soviet Union repatriation, and Ukrainian European voluntary workers.
  • 1947: Surrendered army personnel of the Ukrainian Galicia Division. This wave consisted of Ukrainian soldiers who surrendered on the Eastern Front following Germany’s defeat. The division was removed from its internment in Italy in order to prevent the nearby Soviet Union from repatriating the Ukranian POWs. During peace arrangements, thousands of Ukrainian POWs were transported to workers’ camps in Britain, many of which were in Scotland. Peter’s research is now focused on identifying the Scottish camps that contained sizable Ukrainian communities.

Wave 4. Mid-1980s onwards. After Mikhail Gorbachev became head of state in 1985, the political system of the Soviet Union underwent extreme liberalization. As a result, the number of Ukrainian immigrants to the UK increased. Furthermore, the subsequent fall of the USSR in 1991 ignited an even greater wave of migration to the UK.

14 November Ukrainian play in Edinburgh early 1950sPeter also presented a handful of extraordinary historic photographs of the Ukrainian community in Scotland. Much of Peter’s research has been coloured by the response to his ongoing photo exchange project. His photo exchange holds a wealth of material for those interested in the Ukrainian community.  Anyone  wishing to add to the collection, or inquire about specific images, can email Peter at nasharchiv@btinternet.com

 

Black Douglas: the Bushranger and the Man

Review by Devin Grier

On 31 October 2017, the Graduate Workshop welcomed Meg Foster of the University of New South Wales. Her current PhD research examines the legacy of Australia’s infamous bushrangers. Her focus on Black Douglas, a bushranger of African descent, challenges the identity of  the bushranger in Australian myth and folklore.

Buah

McFarlane & Erskine, Gold escort attacked by bushrangers, 187-, print: lithograph. Image courtesy of the National Library of Australia: nla.pic-an842045

The legacy of the bushranger in Australia is often associated with the vigilant white man, a figure who challenged law and authority, and blurred the distinctions of those who ruled the land. As with the Californian Gold Rush, the gold-seeking communities in Australia experienced disorder and crime.

In May 1855, reports circulated that a gang, led by a black man, was terrorising the small  mining community of Marybourgh in Victoria. The locals responded with an uprising; a group of vigilantes succeeded in capturing the notorious black outlaw, known as ‘Black Douglas”.The capture of Black Douglas was widely celebrated by the press as a outstanding example of vigilance at work.

Douglas’s physical features soon became synonymous with crime in the goldfields and in the bush. The colour of his skin represented trouble — ‘black’ was enough to label  him as a criminal. In turn, Black Douglas became a celebrity. Not only was he blamed for every unsolved crime in the gold fields, but it was even considered a mark of distinction to have a run-in with the man himself. With a focus on Douglas, disorder during Australia’s Gold Rush became  colour-coded.

Meg’s research has attempted to dislocate the myth from Douglas’s reality. While his exact origins are unknown, it is suspected that he was American-born and sailed to Bristol  in his early twenties. After a short stay in Britain, Douglas was subsequently shipped to Australia as a convict for shoplifting two woolen coats.

Although he was accused of murder, robbery, and trespassing during his lifetime, Douglas’s criminal record does not convey violent man.  Rather, as Meg revealed,  contemporary sources portray him as a drunkard, a depiction far removed from the dangerous dark figure who haunted the gold fields.

In the goldfields of Australia, it was easy to forge new identities. Miners and bushrangers disassociated themselves from their past and reinvented  themselves. But on closer examination, the  myth and reality of Douglas’s  identity are almost inseparable. He was ‘a symbol, more than a man’;  his skin colour had everything to do with it.

 

The Scottish Cemetery in Kolkata

On 17 October 2017, we were joined by Tom Addyman, a partner of Simpson and Brown architects since 1998.  Tom heads up the Archaeology Division of the firm and, over the years,  has been involved in a number of excavations at home and abroad, including the Scottish cemetery in Kolkata where he was member of a team assembled under the auspices of the Kolkata Scottish Heritage Trust.

17 October Scottish CemeteryThe Scottish cemetery, which was established in 1820, is associated with the nearby St Andrews Church. Its graves and memorials provide an historical snap shot of the  many Scots living and working in Kolkata during the 19th and 20th centuries. Many graves were constructed and designed by Scottish sculptors.  By 2008, however, when the team began conservation work, the cemetery  had become  extremely overgrown.

Tom presented a fascinating overview of  his archaeological involvement and the formidable practical challenges which he and other members of the team faced.

Glassford’s Virginia: Imagining the Scottish Diaspora in the Eighteenth-Century Chesapeake Bay

We began the semester on Tuesday 3 October 2017 with a presentation given by Marenka Thomson-Odlum who is currently undertaking an AHRC funded collaborative PhD at the University of Glasgow and Glasgow City Museums.  Marenka considered the career of John Glassford (1715-1783) and examined his links with the tobacco-producing Chesapeake.  Glassford flourished at a time when approximately 40 to 50% of British tobacco imports were pouring into Glasgow. As the owner of 25 trading ships, Glassford was the archetypal Glasgow Tobacco Lord but much of his business in Virginia was conducted by Scottish agents, members of an extensive business network.  Indeed, it is thought that Glassford never set foot in the American colonises. How, then, did Glassford imagine his links with the Chesapeake?

3 October - Glassford Family Portrait

To explore ideas of representation, Marenka used a family portrait of the Glassford family, as the cornerstone of the presentation. The painting was painted by Archibald McLauchlan in the 1760s and shows the Glassford family at leisure in their home at Shawfield Mansion just off the Trongate in what is now Glassford Street.  Marenka argued that the painting contains important clues as to the real nature of Glassford’s business empire as well as his social and familial status.  Revealing details include a squirrel hidden beneath a chair, tropical fruit, documents, reflections in a mirror and a backdrop of open parkland.  The banknotes in Glassford’s hand are a pertinent reminder that he was the partner of two banks; the reflections above the heads of Glassford’s clearly flourishing daughters, depict the lofty town houses and sugar houses of Glasgow’s Trongate. An extended family was consolidated by three tactical marriages, each of which enabled Glassford to ascend the social scale. Marriage was a business proposition.  The portrait reflects a family and its wealth.  But perhaps most significant of all is the presence of a black man servant, not at first entirely obvious, who is standing immediately to the left of Glassford, possibly a trophy servant brought back from the plantations of Virginia. It is a reminder that in his business activities Glassford worked within a system dependent on slave labour.

The Chesapeake clearly represented a place of opportunity and wealth for Glassford, but the reality for the young Scots who managed his Virginian stores was somewhat different.  As Marenka pointed out, the position of Glassford’s factors was transient and uncertain.  Life in the Chesapeake might conceivably lead to partnership and property in Scotland, but the majority returned home with little money or were left to seek their fortunes in other colonies. Glassford rarely paid his factors more than a yearly salary of £ 100 and since wages were relatively low, they were generally unable to strike out on their own.  Work was long and conditions poor.   Glassford was an exacting employer.

Marenka’s excellent presentation generated a lively discussion.

Review by Alastair Learmont

Scottish Born Soldiers in the New Zealand Tunnelling Company 1916-1919

Miners

New Zealand Miners, Paporoa Range, late 19th Century:  About a third of the sample of 62 Scots born miners worked in the Paporoa Range

On 4 April, the Graduate Workshop was joined by Grant Collie who is currently in the final stages of a Masters Degree by research at Massey University, New Zealand. An emigrant Scot – and a former student of the University of Edinburgh – Grant is undertaking research into 62 Scots born members (comprising 15%) of the 400 strong New Zealand Tunnelling Company which served as part of the New Zealand Expeditionary Force during the First World War.  Many were former coal miners from Central Scotland and Fife who emigrated to New Zealand towards the end of the nineteenth century, a period which coincided with the first major wave of Scottish migration to New Zealand.  Grant’s social historical  approach charted the background and motives of this significant sub group:  what were the reasons for their emigration from Scotland?  Why did they enlist?  Grant’s presentation provided an overview of work in progress.

Grant argued that poor social conditions provided the immediate backdrop to emigration.  In late 19th century Scotland, mining was a poorly paid and hazardous occupation.  Between 1885 and 1904, wages for the average miner, with a family to support, were only slightly above subsistence level, increasing from 4 shillings a day to 6 shillings a day over a twenty-year period.  Accidents were commonplace and discontent rife. Emigration provided an alternative life. Grant cited the case of Stephen Peggie, a miner from Lochore in Fife who was injured in a mining accident and by way of compensation was offered the sum of £ 300 to assist with payment of his passage to New Zealand. Emigration to New Zealand offered the hope of a new life and appealed to an underlying sense of adventure.  In their new surroudings, many emigrant Scots were able to draw on their previous technical experience to mine for black gold.

tunn_farewell

At the outbreak of war, a call was sent out throughout the British Empire for tunnelling companies; the New Zealanders were the first to respond. Their tunnelling company arrived in France in 1916 with no experience of mining in wartime conditions.  But as Grant observed, whilst the Scots born miners may not have been ideal soldiers, they were expert miners and were trained to obey orders.  In France, they began by working alongside the Highland 51st Division with whom they established good relations.   Work typically involved constructing labyrinthine tunnels , known as Catacombs, which the sappers named after New Zealand towns and cities. At Arras, in particular, the work of the New Zealand tunnellers made a significant contribution to the overall conduct of the battle.

Grant’s recent work has examined the impact of war on the 62.  Evidence suggests that a significant number were traumatised by their experience of warfare.  Suicide was not uncommon, nor were the effects of what  might now be regarded as Post Traumatic Place NamesStress Disorder.  Grant is currently researching the reasons for five of the 62 returning to Scotland, rather than their adopted country, at the end of the war. His visit to Europe coinciding, as it does, with centenary events to commemorate the Battle of Arras, has enabled him to carry out further primary research at the Scottish Mining Museum and the National Library of Scotland.

During the course of the presentation interesting issues arose as to the nature of national identity, and the availability of primary source material.  Whilst surprisingly little contemporary correspondence survives, the collective aural memory of family members provides a valuable contextual source.

This was a fascinating talk and a fitting end to our 2016/2017 programme. We wish Grant well with his continuing research.

 

Toys and the Movement of Peoples: What The Museum of Childhood’s Collections Tell Us About Material Culture and Childhood?

On 14 March 2017, the Graduate Workshop was pleased to welcome Dr  Catriona Ellis of the University of Edinburgh whose recent research has examined how childhood was constructed or imagined in colonial South India in the 1920s and 1930. Since submitting her PhD in September 2016, Catriona has volunteered at Edinburgh’s Museum of Childhood. A departure from the more traditional primary sources of her thesis, the experience has provided a fascinating opportunity to engage with a completely different – and contested – form of material culture.

In her paper, Catriona looked principally at the Museum’s Indian collection.  She considered what toys might reveal about Indian children and how toys might also reflect the experiences of children visiting India.  What do they tell us about universal values of childhood? She illustrated her presentation with images of dolls, transparencies and an authentically Indian tak taki.  But in many ways, it was the physical presence of a more contemporary Indian Barbie doll which she had bought for her own daughter, which allowed  Catriona to illustrate just how contested a “toy” might be.  Do we see “Jasmine” through the eyes of the child or the adult?  Is the Barbie simply a reflection of what society dictates, or something which appeals directly to the child’s imagination?  Perhaps she  might become a vehicle for diverse kinds of nostalgia, connecting one generation with another, or providing a link with Empire? In a museum context, does the approach of a collector, or curator (a point picked up in the Question and Answer session), affect its representation and our perceptions?

The Museum, which was opened in 1955 by Councillor Patrick Murray (1908-1981), was one of the first of its kind.  There are a number of non-British toys referred to in the Catalogues, but, frustratingly, provenances are often not recorded. Unfortunately, Murray’s passion for toys was not matched with an assiduous eye for their classification. Toys of Empire, however, clearly provide an identifiable grouping within the Museum’s collection.  In 1987, Diana unnamed (4)Horne donated a pull along buffalo which her father had bought for her in India in the twilight days of Empire.  Forty years on, she described it as “a lovely souvenir of our colonial days”, the buffalo evoking a palpable sense of imperial nostalgia.    But a toy might have had a more didactic purpose.  Catriona showed us examples of transparencies dating back to the late 19th century which appear to represent Indians in stereotypical terms.  Arguably, they were produced to convey a certain cultural message to British children whether or not they lived in India.  The Tak taki ,on the other hand, was an example of a toy which Indian children would have enjoyed.  As it was pulled along, its wheel drove a beating drum, giving the toy its distinctive name.  Catriona showed us an image of an example, probably dating to the 1880s, which had been brought back to Scotland, and known in the donor family as Polly’s Indian or Chinese Toy:  a distinctly Indian toy, traditionally used by Indian children, but in this context a vehicle (literally perhaps) for a sense of imperial nostalgia.

unnamed (3)By virtue of its size and the evident zeal of its collector, the Lovett collection represents a significant part of of the Museum’s overall collection.  In the late 19th/early 20th century Edward Lovett (1852-1933), a London toy collector, amassed 670 dolls from all over the world.  Originally, they were sold to the Museum of Cardiff but in 1961 they were given on permanent loan to the Museum of Childhood.  Lovett’s interest lay principally in Japanese and Chinese dolls but his collection also contains several Indian, mostly, rag dolls.  Catriona argued that the Lovett dolls represent “a material representation of (Lovett’s) understanding of racial and cultural hierarchies in the late 19th and early 20th centuries”.  As a collector, Lovett openly played down the artistic significance of the dolls, and implicitly suggested that they revealed gradations of cultural sophistication.  But, in his later writings, he appeared to be alive to the enduring commonality of the toy, and the universality of play.  Catriona considered the seventeen dolls in the Lovett collection.  With one exception, they are relatively simple rag dolls but, as Catriona suggested, their simplicity might have provided greater scope for a child’s imagination.

Catriona finished with Pachisi, a 16th Century Indian Board game, which is said to haunnamed (2)ve originated in the Mughal Court of Fatepur Sikri.  This complex adult board game, played exclusively by the upper castes, was later appropriated and simplified by the British.  It was the forerunner of Ludo.  Catriona showed us an example of the original, acquired in the 1920s and used by the donor’s family until the 1970s.  The evolution and packaging of the game may well tell us more about the attitudes of adults than the play of children.

Toys occupy contested territory but provide a further dimension to our understanding of childhood. Collecting strategies add an extra later of complexity, delineating, even directing our perceptions of childhood.  This well attended presentation stimulated animated discussion.  We wish Catriona well with her continuing research at the Museum of Childhood and look forward to seeing her again at the Graduate Workshop.

___________________

Our next Graduate Workshop will take place on Tuesday 4 April when Grant Collie of Massey University, New Zealand will be speaking on  “Emigrant Scottish Miners in the NZ Tunnelling Company: 1916-1919”

Grant tells the story  of 62 Scottish members of the New Zealand Tunnelling Company who emigrated to New Zealand in  1880-1914.  Previously, many had worked as miners in the central belt of Scotland. But who were they?  And what were the reasons for their emigration?

The Workshop will take place at 1 pm in G 16 of the William Robertson Wing of the School of History, Classics and Archaeology (Doorway 4).

Everyone is most welcome to attend.

Crisis, Migration and Precariousness: The New Galician Diaspora as a Case Study

unnamed (1)On 28 February 2017, we were delighted to welcome Dr Maria Alonso Alonso to the Diaspora Studies Graduate Workshop.  Maria obtained her PhD from the University of Vigo in 2014 and is currently based at the University of St Andrews where she holds a a Xunta de Galicia International Postdoctoral Fellowship.  Her work focusses on the Galician diaspora. She has published widely in academic journals; her output also includes short stories, poetry and a novel in the Galician Language.  Her most recent book entitled Transmigrantes Fillas de Precareidade (“Transmigrants , Daughters of Precariousness”), published by Axourere in 2017, challenges an over positive image of migration in order to highlight  the feelings of vulnerability experienced by her own, younger generation.  In a stimulating paper Maria, explored the interconnected themes of crisis, migration and precariousness.

Traditionally, Galicia has been a migrant community.  As Maria observed, it is difficult to find a family unaffected by migration.  In the 19th century, Castile was a popular destination for migrants; at the time of the Spanish Civil War, Latin America, notably Argentina and Uruguay, provided a popular draw.  More recently, it has been Europe.  Factors have included poverty, political instability and unemployment.  Statistics, eloquent of a social crisis, reveal how Spanish unemployment has soared since the beginning of the millennium, rising from 8% in 2006 to 26% in 2012. The trend is most pronounced in the younger generation.  In 2015, youth unemployment (representing the  under 25s) stood at 51%; in the same year graduate unemployment stood at 30%; in Germany the comparative figure was 3%. Over the past five years, over one million Spanish citizens have emigrated; a significant number have come to the UK.  In 2015, on the basis of Spanish Government figures, 45,000 Spanish nationals were formally registered as living in the UK; most were between the ages of 25 and 35, and approximately 20% Galician.

unnamed

Maria’s family like many others were affected by migration.  This photograph includes a number of family members including her mother, aunts and uncles, and grandparents

However, as Maria argued, it is important to recognise the presence of a push and pull factor. In the late 1990s, Galicia became a host country.  Spain, which was undergoing a period of political transition, became part of the Euro zone.  It opened its borders to foreign labourers including Africans, Europeans (particularly the Swiss and Germans) and first and second generation emigrants to Latin America (the so called retornados).  Many of the new immigrants were employed in the construction and service industries; at the same time many professional Galicians emigrated to north Europe and the USA.   In many respects, the boom proved transient as images of Castellon airport and Santiago de Compostela City of Culture testify.  As much as nobody expected the Spanish Inquisition, nobody ever expected the Spanish Crisis.

The New Galician Diaspora is characterised by a sense of precariousness as the title of Maria’s recent book suggests.  The Galician Government has promoted an official narrative based on a sense of Sentimentality for the home country from abroad.  Thus Galicians, in the words of Helena Miguélez-Carballeira, “are a nostalgic people…. (who) live in harmonious communion with their landscape…yearning for its beauty”.  According to this received view, emigration is not as traumatic as it might seem.  In fact, emigration is the equivalent of success.  However, this rigid agenda blots out stories of precariousness.  New narratives have developed to challenge the official line. The  stereopytoes and metaphors commonly associated with Sentimentality have been analysed and challenged in the work of Carballeira.    Since 2015, a flurry of publications have provided a critique of Sentimentality. Eloy Domínguez Serén, although comparatively unknown within Galicia, has demonstrated on the basis of his own experiences, how feelings of alienation become important in the context of migration.  The concept of Saudade, almost untranslatable into English, captures the vital angst of living abroad. Manuel Forcadela goes further.  For Forcadela, Saudade is like a form of castration.

Somewhat surprisingly there is nobody currently working on Galician Studies at the University of Edinburgh.  Maria concluded by suggested that important comparisons might be drawn between her native Galicia and Scotland, i.e. as communities existing within hegemonic powers.

This well attended paper provoked interest and debate.  Maria’s scholarly approach was enhanced by the authority of personal experience.  We look forward to welcoming Maria at future graduate workshops and research seminars.

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Emigration:  Scotland to Australia 1840-1870.  Was the Effort Really Worthwhile?

liverpoolOn 12th January 2017, the Graduate Workshop welcomed Jennifer McCoy of Federation University, Australia.  Jennifer is a part time first-year PhD student who currently combines research with teaching.  Her doctoral research considers the contribution made by immigrant Scots in the development of Eastern High Country Victoria in the mid to late 19th century. Family history has provided the stimulus for Jennifer’s formal academic research and, in her own words, has led to her asking “so many questions that (have gone) beyond the usual genealogical study of births, marriages, deaths and people connections”.   Her presentation considered the “loose ends” which have inspired her project and the lines of enquiry which they suggest.

At the heart of Jennifer’s research lie the big questions: Where had the Scots come from?  Where did they settle?  Moreover, was their effort worthwhile?  Existing research has tended to focus on the more well known, yet many early Scottish settlers remain strangely “invisible”.  Memorialisation,  gravestones in particular, have provided a useful starting point.  By way of case study, Jennifer considered her own McCoy ancestors. As the 1841 census records reveal, James McCoid (sic) and his wife Charlotte Dowie hailed from Girvan in Ayrshire.  In 1855, they made the perilous five month sea voyage from Liverpool to Hobart before travelling to South East Victoria.  The McCoy family clearly flourished.  In 1932, Mary, the daughter of Charlotte and James, left the considerable sum of £ 45,000 to her local Presbyterian Church.  Her sister Elizabeth ran a successful hotel.  What role then did women play in the settler society?  How did the Presbyterian  Church impact upon their lives?  How was such wealth generated in a comparatively short time?  In the long term, Jennifer anticipates broadening the scope of her research and considering the experiences of other Scottish families in the development of South East Victoria.

A lively discussion followed. The presentation provided a perfect opportunity for Jennifer to meet and exchange ideas with members of our own post graduate community.  We all wish her well with her continuing research.

Alastair Learmont