Contributors to this Issue
Buy Issue for $25 at JHUP- Contributors to this Issue
Neval Berber is a DAAD Postdoctoral Fellow in British Studies at the University of Regensburg. She received her PhD in history from the National University of Ireland, Galway (2007) and holds a doctorate from the University of Verona (2009). Previously, her research has focused on representations of the Balkans in nineteenth and twentieth century English travel literature; her new project will explore literary representations of gender violence in post-apartheid South African and post-Yugoslav literatures from a comparative perspective.
Rodney Stenning Edgecombe lectures English literature at the University of Cape Town, and holds one of its Distinguished Teacher Awards. He has published widely on a variety of literary and musical topics. A Self-divided Poet: Form and Texture in the Verse of Thomas Hood (2006) is his most recent book.
William F. Long is Emeritus Professor in Biochemistry at the University of Aberdeen. He has published several articles for The Dickensian and Dickens Quarterly and contributed to The Oxford Readers’ Companion to Dickens.
Jerome Meckier, now retired from the University of Kentucky, maintains a strong interest in Dickens, on whom he has written extensively, and an equally active commitment to Aldous Huxley. [End Page 91]
They reached, in course of time, their halting-place within ten miles of London, and lay there for the night, after bargaining to be carried on for a trifle next day, in a light van which was returning empty, and was to start at five o’clock in the morning. The driver was punctual, the road good – save for the dust, the weather being very hot and dry – and at seven in the forenoon of Friday the second of June, one thousand seven hundred and eighty, they alighted at the foot of Westminster Bridge, bade their conductor farewell, and stood alone, together, on the scorching pavement. For the freshness which night sheds upon such busy thoroughfares had already departed, and the sun was shining with uncommon lustre.
Barnaby Rudge, chapter 47 [End Page 92]
