- Contributors to this Issue
Adam Abraham is a doctoral candidate at the University of Oxford. He previously studied at the University of York, where he earned a master’s degree in English. He is the author of When Magoo Flew: The Rise and Fall of Animation Studio UPA (2012).
Murray Baumgarten teaches urban Jewish writing and Dickens at the University of California, Santa Cruz, where he is Distinguished Professor of English & Comparative Literature, and founding Director of the Dickens Project. He also studies modern urban Jewish writing. His books include City Scriptures: Modern Jewish Writing, Understanding Philip Roth, and he has edited Homes and Homelessness in the Victorian Imagination, and written many essays on Dickens, Victorian culture, and modern Jewish writing. He is the founding editor-in-chief of the California Carlyle Edition, and the Emeritus Editor of Judaism: A Quarterly Journal Of Jewish Life & Thought, published by the American Jewish Congress. Recently he has been working on the afterlife of the Venice Ghetto, and is a founder of the Venice Center for International Jewish Studies.
Jolene Zigarovich is assistant professor of Nineteenth-Century Non-U.S. Global literature in English in the Department of Languages & Literatures at the University of Northern Iowa. She recently published Writing Death and Absence in the Victorian Novel: Engraved Narratives (2012) and edited a collection of essays, Sex and Death in Eighteenth-Century Literature (2013). She has also contributed to Studies in the Novel, Dickens Studies Annual, and Eighteenth-Century Life and is a contributing editor of the forthcoming second edition of Great Expectations: A Norton Critical Edition. Her current work in progress examines Victorian laws that govern the dead body. [End Page 3]
After lighting with his own hands the faggots which were heaped upon the hearth, old John withdrew to hold grave council with his cook, touching the stranger’s entertainment; while the guest himself, seeing small comfort in the yet unkindled wood, opened a lattice in the distant window, and basked in a sickly gleam of cold March sun.
Barnaby Rudge, chapter 10 [End Page 4]