Scat and vocalese are two approaches to jazz vocality. This essay intervenes into dominant narratives of their history, value, and functions and encourages us to conceptualize a broader, contradictory view of what they have been and done. This view both acknowledges the narrative of Louis Armstrong giving birth to scat in 1926 and that scat was widespread far earlier; it points to how scat has occupied both sides of Lindon Barrett’s binary of the singing/signing voice, variously functioning as institutionalized vocality that claims authority by Othering certain music as nonmusical and marginalized vocality denied legibility by hegemonic musical norms. Alongside these reflections on the cultural politics of jazz voice, the reader is guided through explorations of the scat existing before scat; the less-celebrated recordings of the most-celebrated scat singer, Ella Fitzgerald; and the ways scat’s meanings are reshaped by poetry and by lesser-known singers of the past and present.

Chapter 2 examines criteria that people use when forming perceptions of how they and others have been treated is fair or unfair. One of the important criteria that people use is whether they were given sufficient opportunities to voice their opinions about important issues at stake. It is crucial that voiced opinions are given due consideration. Being treated in a polite and respectful manner by people, and especially people of power, is also among the core criteria for evaluating procedural fairness. Generally being treated in a fair and just manner by competent and professional authorities is also among the important criteria of perceived procedural fairness. Taken together, perceived procedural fairness boils down to feeling to be a full-fledged member of your community and society and, ideally, the entire world.

The wordless, often unwritable sound of the vox confusa is usually contrasted with the verbal, writeable sound of the vox articulata. The former was held to be irrational and meaningless; the latter, rational and significant. This chapter will examine the role which the vox confusa played in Augustine’s thought. It will argue that, in his later works, we encounter a wild(er) Augustine who appears to be more willing than his earlier self to recognise and exploit the vox confusa in a theological context.

Chapter 3 explores and critically evaluates the main tenets of Childhood Studies by addressing the key concepts of voice, agency, participation and children’s rights. The discussion starts by exploring the challenges of working with child voice, highlighting that voices are messy and multi-layered, heavily influenced by social, cultural and institutional discourses. Like voice, agency must also be understood within intergenerational relationships. A large part of this chapter discusses the differences between the various definitions and descriptions of participation frameworks (e.g. Fielding, 2001; Hart, 1992; Lundy, 2007; Shier, 2001) with a view to draw out actual roles children can take in research studies (such as consultants, partners or researchers in child-led research projects). Similarities and differences between research ‘with’ children and research ‘by’ children are discussed. Addressing opportunities and limitations drawn out of current debates in empirical research, the chapter highlights the most important implications and opportunities for child second language research.

This chapter focuses on the ways in which archival categorization frames the voices of the actors in a historian’s documents. It does so by reconstructing the journey of a young woman from Nagasaki to Thursday Island via Shanghai and Hong Kong, based both on the first-person testimony she gave soon after arriving in Australia and on similar testimonies from many other migrating women. But although the woman, Hashimoto Usa, speaks in the first person, her ‘I’ is also layered with the world views of her British interlocutor and his educated Japanese translators. These bind Hashimoto into a set of discursive assumptions – about labour, gender and ‘civilization’ – that will affect where and how her story is archivally preserved, both in Brisbane and in Tokyo. In a similar way, the author’s own first-person description of ‘finding’ her testimony bleeds into Hashimoto’s voice, once again shaping her storytelling strategies and those of every other man present in her narrative. In short, the question of how we read such archival traces depends very much on who ‘we’ are in the story.

This chapter explores the political themes in Cavell’s philosophy of cinema by reading the film Gaslight in the context of contemporary American politics. This reading will serve two purposes. First, by focusing on a single film, the chapter demonstrates the political dimension of Cavell’s writing on film. Second in the last few years some critics of Trump have argued that he deploys gaslighting (a term developed from this film) to manipulate the American public. Therefore a reading of Gaslight can provide resources This chapter explores the political themes in Cavell’s philosophy of cinema by reading the film Gaslight in the context of contemporary American politics. This reading will serve two purposes. First, by focusing on a single film, the chapter demonstrates the political dimension of Cavell’s writing on film. Second, in the past few years, some critics of Trump have argued that he deploys “gaslighting” (a term developed from this film) to manipulate the American public. Therefore, a reading of Gaslight can provide resources for contemporary political theorists to think through political deception in contemporary American life. Gaslighting is one of the most powerful forms of political manipulation in the post-truth-politics era because it tricks its targets into doubting what they know. This chapter offers an theoretical analysis of gaslighting. It considers how Cavell’s interpretation of gaslighting as a gendered practice relates to Cavell’s understanding of the gendered nature of skepticism. Cavell suggests that to resist gaslighting one must cultivate modes of response to one’s intuition in order to reclaim one’s voice. The chapter concludes by analyzing how this way of responding to gaslighting can help us to make sense of Trump’s gaslighting of America and similar forms of populist propaganda.

This essay focuses on the two most influential English authors of the later medieval period, Geoffrey Chaucer and his contemporary, John Gower, to analyse the roles of women within their corpus, both as subjects and as extra-textual readers. Bridges asks what femininity enables in their works and how ߝ and what ߝwomen mean, emphasising the embeddedness of both writers in long-established and international textual cultures. Central to her analysis is the notion of a hermeneutic that constructs women and femininity in ethical terms, as bound up with notions of vice and virtue. The essay explores questions of voice, agency, and genre across Chaucerߣs works to demonstrate the intimate connection of femininity with questions of reading and interpretation. For Gower too, ethics are shown to be a central focus, and treatments of femininity open onto moral and political debates. Differing presentations of women treated in common by Chaucer and Gower illuminate their ideological priorities and contrasting practices of poetic translatio studii. For both, womenߣs presence proves a complex, powerful, but often ambiguous textual phenomenon.

The underlying proposition, that translation is a model or homologue of ecological action, involves the rejection of notions of preservation and conservation. For their own continuing health, ecosystems need to be conducted in the same spirit as a translational act. The chapter then turns to Uexküll’s concept of Umwelt and its apprpriateness to translational thinking; then to its legacy in biosemiotics. How, then, does translational language achieve that perlocutionary ability to re-immerse us in the environment? Through the cultivation of idiolect and alternity (Steiner), and of situatedness and presentness of the voice, particularly in articulation, paralanguage and rhythm, which envelope the verbal with the non-verbal and allow the human to slide towards the non-human. Equally language must be coaxed in the direction of the indexical, iconic and onomatopoeic, more flexibly understood; and language must be translated into forms and shapes unfamiliar to itself so that it can explore other models of psycho-perception. Arguments in the chapter are exemplified in translations of Hugo, Saint-John Perse, Heredia, Baudelaire and Hopkins.

After revisiting Bohm’s implicate and expliocate orders, the chapter looks into the kinship between the implicate order and both Bergsonian duration and the continuity of the reading consciousness. Articulation and form also particpate intimately in ongoing duration. But what is the nature of the time of reading and how do we apprehend it? The chapter goes on to examine and criticize Bergson’s cinematographic account of language perceived as movement. Bergsonian duration and the dynamic of translation are compared with Impressionist painting. The chapter then moves on to consider the part played by voice and rhythm in the realization of duration and of intuitional relationships with text. It finally sets itself the task of identifying a rhythm pecular to translational activity itself. The chapter includes, as illustrations, translations from Eluard, Laforgue and Leconte de Lisle.

Scholars have often characterized John Gower as a moralizing and even severe poet, one for whom obedience to normative law is the sole ethical standard. I suggest that this is only half of the picture. On the one hand, Gower certainly relies on prescriptive forms, such as the exemplum, distinctio, and the microcosm, to make the ethical lessons of his poetry legible to the reader. But on the other, he also draws the reader’s attention to moments in his poetry when a strict obedience to normative forms of ethics leads his characters into moral error. Gower does this by staging for his reader moments in which these characters cry out to various figures of power, begging those figures to suspend ethical norms in the name of mercy and pity. I argue that, in his three long poems—the Mirour de l’omme, the Vox Clamantis, and especially the Confessio Amantis—this “crying voice” casts light upon Gowers views of ethics and poetics alike, by stressing at once the flexibility of Gowers moral views and his commitment to listening, if only in conceit, for the voices that are latent in the matter he reworks.

This chapter presents a sketch grammar of Amis, an Austronesian language spoken in Taiwan. The data are representative of the Central dialect of this language. The focus of the discussion is on phenomena related to its case marking and voice, such as applicative constructions and grammatical relations. An in-depth discussion of macrorole assignment with one-place predicates is included.

There are often claims that competition law does not or should not apply to entities that operate on a not-for-profit basis. Operating on a not-for-profit is not however accepted as a reason to exclude an entities activities from the scope of competition law. Competition law is applied to non-profit providers and this essay identifies a number of ways in which not-for-profit status can influence the way the law is applied. It then considers whether, particularly when not-for-profit entities are competing with for-profit entities, whether and why modifications in the application of the law are justified.

Chapter 3 explores verbal group system and structure. In doing so for English and Spanish, it concentrates on what in SFL is referred to as univariate structure. Univariate structures are structures involving a single variable, which is repeated over and over again; they thus function as the realisation of recursive systems. The unit complexes introduced above (clause complexes, group complexes, word complexes and morpheme complexes) are structures of this kind. And some languages develop more delicate clause and group systems organised along these lines. The recursive tense systems in English and Spanish which we describe in this chapter are good examples. Chinese verbal groups on the other hand do not involve recursive systems realised by iterating structures and so have to be approached from a multivariate perspective.

The idea of a narrator that is distinct from the author is a basic tenet of narratology. In ancient criticism, however, this idea absent. What is more, ancient critics tended to ascribe utterances of characters in general to authors. This, I argue, is not a deficiency but the expression of a distinctly ancient view of voice, which I reconstruct on the basis of a wide array of texts. Where we see several narrative levels nested into each other, ancient authors and readers envisaged narration as an act of impersonation. One upshot of my analysis is that, while it may be intriguing to explore metalepseis in ancient literature, the very idea of metalepsis conflicts with the premises of narrative as it was understood in antiquity. The ancient view of narration can be linked at least partly to the prominence of performance and therefore reveals the impact of socio-cultural factors; at the same time, it resonates with recent cognitive theory, notably embodied and enactive models of cognition.

Voice is the production of a vibrating tone through the vibration of the vocal folds under pulmonary airflow. The glottis is the space between the vocal folds. Phonation is produced through the myoelastic aerodynamic theory, which takes into account the actions of muscles, tissue elasticity, and aerodynamic (airflow) principles. Fundamental frequency is the frequency of vibration of a talker’s vocal folds (as distinguished from other frequencies in speech). An individual’s “normal” fundamental frequency is called their modal frequency. Voice onset time (VOT) is the time (duration) between the release of a plosive and the start (onset) of voicing in the following segment. The vocal folds are complex anatomical structures involving superficial and deep layers; this structure influences the nature of vocal fold vibration and the mucosal wave. In order to explain and illustrate the complex vibration, the two-mass model and the cover--body model are used. Whisper and nasality are phenomena that are counted under the heading "voice" by some authors.

In 1922, a year that saw the publication of landmark works such as James Joyce’s Ulysses, Virginia Woolf’s Jacob’s Room and T.S. Eliot’s The Waste Land, the sixth-form student Samuel Beckett read plays by William Shakespeare. His copies of editions of Shakespeare’s plays like the one of Macbeth1 contain many underlined or marked passages, but the reading trace very often found in their margins is: ‘Learn by heart’.2