Cooking with the Legal Humanities: Melanie Williams’s Courgette (Zucchini) Casserole

A note from Melanie on the recipe:

A delicious piquant veggie recipe, much loved by my kids as children and still demanded by them as adults. Small children like the casserole contents liquidised into a sauce.


Ingredients:

  • Around 5-6 courgettes
  • Some mushrooms
  • Garlic, chopped (optional/to taste)
  • Paprika to taste
  • Brown breadcrumbs, around 1.5 slices
  • 1 tin of tomatoes
  • Sour cream, small carton
  • Flaked almonds, handful or so
  • Grated cheddar cheese to taste
  • Olive oil
  • Salt and pepper
  • Spaghetti to serve

Method:

Roughly chop courgettes and mushrooms, and the optional garlic cloves. Fry in oil for a couple of minutes, add paprika powder and fry for another minute. Stir in brown breadcrumbs, the tin of tomatoes, small carton of sour cream and flaked almonds, salt and pepper, shake some grated cheese over top. Bake in oven: 180°C (350°F) for approximately 30 minutes, or until the cheese is golden and the mixture is bubbling nicely. Serve with spaghetti, with extra grated cheese offered on the plate if wanted.

zucchini-1659094_1280


Melanie Williams is Emeritus Professor in Literary Jurisprudence at the University of Exeter. She is author of a number of publications in law and literature and the interdisciplinary study of law and the humanities. Key works include Empty Justice: One Hundred Years of Law, Literature, and Philosophy and ‘Socio-Legal Studies and the Humanities — Law, Interdisciplinarity and Integrity’.


‘Cooking with the Legal Humanities’ is a series of blog posts sharing recipes from the many keen cooks who lurk within the global cultural legal community.

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On Comics and Legal Aesthetics: The Preface

ComicsAestheticsCover

My monograph, On Comics and Legal Aesthetics, has just been published by Routledge, as part of the Discourses of Law series. Tackling the question of the implications of comics for law, it explores the epistemological dimensions of comics and the way this once-maligned medium can help think about—and reshape—the form of law. It argues that comics’ multimodality—its hybrid structure, which represents a meeting point of text, image, reason, and aesthetics (inter alia)—opens understanding of the limits of law’s rational texts by shifting between multiple frames and modes of presentation. Ultimately, the book explore how comics models knowledge as an infinity of nested frames haunted by the chaos of a universe without structure. In such a model, the multiple aspects of law become one region of a vast and bottomless cascade of perspectives—an infinite multiframe that extends far beyond the traditional confines of the comics page, rendering law boundless—and, of course, comics everywhere.

To mark the event of this publication, below is a copy of the volume’s Preface, reproduced with permission of the publisher.


Preface

Keith Aoki was a practitioner of ‘art during law school’, and produced numerous legal comics during his time as a student at Harvard.[1] Later, Aoki penned a journal article entitled ‘PIERRE and the Agents of REASON’ that engaged with the work of Pierre Schlag in comics form—complete with secret headquarters and metalevel debates between the journal’s editors over whether it was appropriate for a comics work to appear in a law review.[2] Aoki later went on to create, alongside James Boyle and Jennifer Jenkins, the comics work Bound by Law? Tales from the Public Domain, a critical guide to navigating the complex realms of intellectual property.[3] Amidst other publications, he also produced his own comics law review article on the history of copyright[4] that outlined much of the premise for a further ‘tale from the public domain’ on the history of copyright in music.[5] This book is not about Keith Aoki, nor the substance of his immensely wide body of work of which I have not even scratched the surface.[6] Rather, it seeks an understanding of a question raised by the simple existence of his legal comics creations. Namely, what does it mean to put comics and law together? As one rather close-minded law review editor announces in Aoki’s piece on Schlag: ‘This piece infuriates me on the level of representation’.[7] But what is actually at stake in the representational and formal shift implied by the copresence of law and comics? What does it say about the typically rational and textual form of mainstream legal knowledge? What about the wider structures of human knowing? It is with this formal level of the meeting of law and comics and its epistemological ramifications that I engage in this book, seeking to elaborate the ways comics—as a hybrid or ‘multimodal’ form—can help us think about the limits of law’s rational texts.

In order to unpack the implications of comics’ and law’s coëxistence, perhaps the first step should be a lawyerly one: to seek a definition. Not of law,[8] but of comics.[9] And lest the thought of comics’ representational forms infuriate too many of this text’s more legally oriented readers, let us throw in some Latin for good measure. To wit: the term ‘comics’ derives from the Latin comicus, relating to comedy and humour.[10] Now, whilst there are many comics that do rely on humour (hence the term ‘funny pages’), the medium hosts such a wide variety of narratives and genres that ‘comedy’ can in no way be considered a defining feature. But despite attempts to shift the dominant definitional term to ‘graphic fiction’—arguably out of a desire to shake off some of the medium’s cultural baggage[11]—the label ‘comics’ persists. Indeed, it has become the accepted term in academic study,[12] going as far as defining the field that most closely examines the medium: ‘comics studies’. A juris comicus, then, would be a jurisprudence of humour, of comedy—my own previous use of the term ‘lex comica’ would also suffer from this same error.[13] As a term, ‘comicus’ is both too small and too broad for the purposes of understanding comics in general, or its relationships with law specifically: there are many comics that are not comedies, and many comedies that are not comics.

So much for the Latin stylings. Let us trace further: the root of comicus derives from the Greek komos,[14] a term linked not exclusively with comedy but with more general merriment, festival, and revelry.[15] The carnivalesque nature of the komos can be seen in its role in classical Greek drama, notably the way it has been seen to operate as a counterpoint to order and refinement. Time to cite some authority. As Morgan outlines, by using the komos:

the poet can emphasise his own story’s particularity and all the virtues that go with his professional persona, such as discipline in the choice of subject matter and stringent adherence to the rules of the genre.[16]

One can clearly see in its characteristics of merriment and mockery the seeds of what would develop into satire and modern notions of comicus and humour. In its lack of discipline, meanwhile, perhaps we also begin to glimpse the infuriating nature of comics for those committed to the neatly ordered texts of law—they just don’t look right. Against generic and formal order, the komos is full of ‘spontaneity and festivity’,[17] and in bringing ‘all its threat of undiscipline and rout’[18] it is clearly a force in tension with the legalistic order of precision, particularity, and generic adherence—that is, with the ordered, normative universe of law.

The komos is valuable in understanding the formal order of law. For without the komos—as Greek poets knew of their own artistry—the wonderfully ordered classifications of law have no meaning, no context within the disorder of life.

The komos was a swarming band of drunken men who engaged in dancing, laughter, obscenity, and mocking language, and who generally dispensed with social conventions and inhibitions. The komos represented a more accessible and less severe form of Dionysian self-abandonment … and a more public ‘dismemberment’ of human norms and hierarchies.[19]

The link with the Dionysian is important. It solidifies the tensions between komos and wider social and communal structures, placing the komos in a mediating position between the public and social order of the nomos and the complete abandonment of that order signalled by the Dionysian. The komos is thus the revelry on the boundary of the regulated order of society, the carnival at the limit of the rule; it is the chaos subdued by the nomos. It enables a public engagement with disorder, without losing grip of the ordered world. It mediates between the nomos and the unstructured universe.

So, do comics retain this quality of the komos? My argument in this book sits firmly in the positive, and it is by thinking a comics-as-komos that the profound implications of comics for law can be elaborated. It is the broad hypothesis of this book not only that the expansive multimodal nature of comics means it retains the mediating quality of the komos, but that comics can thereby help us think about the limits of legal knowledge against the chaos of an unstructured universe. And to encounter comics-as-komos, we need to look in detail at the mechanics and operation of the comics form, as well as its thematic resonances, in relation to the regulated order of law. As will be seen across the following chapters, the comics form exists at a meeting point between different orders of knowing and fluidly engages its multiple formal aspects—text, image, logical rules, layout, materiality, aesthetic affect, sequence, inter alia—in navigating its epistemological positioning. And this multimodal complexity, like the komos, avails insight into the constructed and fluctuating nature of the present conditions of the world, and thereby ‘dissolves a fixation on forms’, opening up to a vast sea of alternatives.[20] In short, comics augur the reformation of law.

Notes

[1] For an overview, see Kennedy (2012).

[2] Aoki (2003).

[3] Aoki et al (2008).

[4] Aoki (2010).

[5] Boyle and Jenkins (2017). This project was only recently published, as Theft! A History of Music. Due to his untimely death in 2011, Keith Aoki was unable to see the completion of this project.

[6] On Keith’s legacy more generally, see the special issue on ‘Super Aoki’ that forms volume 45, issue 5, of the UC Davis Law Review from June 2012.

[7] Aoki (2003), p 10.

[8] A can of worms, indeed!

[9] Another can of worms, as we’ll see in Chapter 1.

[10] Chambers Etymological Dictionary.

[11] On comics’ history of censorship and cultural denigration, see Barker (1984); Nyberg (1998). And, for a concise summary of the ‘naming’ issues in comics, see Sousanis (2015), p 60.

[12] In comics studies the term ‘comics’ is generally used when referring to the medium, and is treated as a singular object: ‘As for any medium, such as film, it is now standard to treat comics as singular’: Chute and DeKoven (2012), p 175. For clarity: comics is a medium; comics are examples of that medium.

[13] See Giddens (2015c). Note also the twitter handle of the Graphic Justice Research Alliance, a research network that explores intersections of comics, law, and justice: @LexComica.

[14] Chambers Etymological Dictionary.

[15] Chambers Etymological Dictionary.

[16] Morgan (1993), p 5.

[17] Morgan (1993), p 5.

[18] Morgan (1993), p 12.

[19] Hatab (2005), p 157.

[20] Hatab (2005), p 157.

References

Keith Aoki (2003) ‘PIERE and the Agents of REASON’ 27 University of Miami Law Review 1.

Keith Aoki (2010) ‘Pictures within Pictures’ 36 Ohio North University Law Review 1.

Keith Aoki et al (2008) Bound by Law? Tales from the Public Domain, Duke University Press.

Martin Barker (1984) A Haunt of Fears: The Strange History of the British Horror Comics Campaign, Pluto.

James Boyle and Jennifer Jenkins (2017) Theft! A History of Music, Duke University Press.

Hillary Chute and Marianne DeKoven (2012) ‘Comic Books and Graphic Novels’ in D Glover and S McCracken (eds) The Cambridge Companion to Popular Fiction, Cambridge University Press.

Thomas Giddens (2015c) ‘Lex Comica: On Comics and Legal Theory’ in T Giddens (ed) Graphic Justice: Intersections of Comics and Law, Routledge.

Lawrence J Hatab (2005) Nietzsche’s Life Sentence: Coming to Terms with Eternal Recurrence, Routledge.

Duncan Kennedy (2012) ‘Remembering Keith Aoki’s Casual Legal Studies: Art During Law School’ 45 UC Davis Law Review 1817.

Kathryn A Morgan (1993) ‘Pindar the Professional and the Rhetoric of the Κωμοσ’ 88 Classical Philology 1.

Amy Nyberg (1998) Seal of Approval: The History of the Comics Code, University Press of Mississippi.

Nick Sousanis (2015) Unflattening, Harvard University Press.

Cooking with the Legal Humanities: Peter Goodrich’s White Fish and Rhubarb

A note from Peter on the recipe:

The recipe depends upon seasonal produce and especially upon colour. It utilises rhubarb because of that circumbended desire for these strange rhizomes that not infrequently and inexplicably accosts me, perhaps because of familiarity, affect or idiosyncrasy, I know not.

As I grew up in the village of Chieveley, Berkshire, so named by the Romans for the proliferation of chives growing in the vicinity, I always use chives as the final visual and comestible adornment to the dish.


Orange Roughy with Gingered Rhubarb and Blood Orange Reduction

Ingredientsingredients 1

  • 2 fillets of Orange Roughy or other sturdy white fish (John Dory, Pollock, Grouper, even Halibut. I confess that with the addition of a sprinkle of cayenne the sauce is also excellent with roast pork.)
  • 1 shallot
  • 1 clove of garlic
  • 1 lemon
  • 1 tbsp olive oil
  • 1 knob of butter
  • 1 bunch of chives
  • 9 blood oranges
  • 3 stems of rhubarb
  • 2 ounces (50g) of fresh ginger
  • Salt and pepper
  • 1 tbsp arrowroot
  • 2 bulbs of beetroot

Method

For the sauce and condiments

The essence of this sauce is simplicity and concentration of the blood orange flavor as well as a deepening of the colour. So, finely chop the shallot and the garlic and sauté in olive oil with the knob of butter until beginning to caramelise. Meanwhile juice 8 of the blood oranges and add to the pot. Leave to simmer for 45 minutes or until reduced by half. Remove and strain. Return to heat. When ready to serve, add one teaspoon of arrowroot powder mixed with the remaining half lemon and half blood orange. Stir until the sauce thickens and takes a sheen.

Cut the rhubarb into inch lengths, retaining four 4 inch lengths. Place in a baking dish, grate ginger over them and sprinkle with blood juice of half a blood orange. Cover and bake for 10 minutes at 400°F (200°C). Once the rhubarb is out of the oven take off the cover to allow it to breathe and then place somewhere warm. Slice the beetroot laterally into quarter inch rounds. Place in a roasting dish, salt and pepper, olive oil and place in over at 355°F (180°C) for 30 minutes, turning once and timing this to come out crisp with the fish.

For the Fish

Cut the Roughy into four inch fillets, pepper, and sprinkle with lemon juice. Leave while preparing the rest of the concoction.

Heat frying pan with olive oil and a splash of canola oil to just starting to smoke and insert Roughy. Depending upon thickness of the fillets, one to two minutes on each side until slightly brown and crisp at edges. Remove and plate the fish, with four lengths of rhubarb and dollops of the blood orange reduction.

For the beetroot, remove and stack, place two small slices of rhubarb on top and then add segments of the remaining half of blood orange to decorate. Sprinkle with chives.

The Plated Dish


Peter Goodrich is Professor of Law at Cardozo Law School, Yeshiva University. He was founding Dean of the School of Law at Birkbeck College, University of London, and is the author of many works across law and the humanities. Notable efforts include Reading the Law, Languages of Law, Legal Emblems and the Art of Law, and, most recently, Schreber’s Law.


‘Cooking with the Legal Humanities’ is a series of blog posts sharing recipes from the many keen cooks who lurk within the global cultural legal community.

Cooking with the Legal Humanities: Daniel Hourigan’s Carbonara

A note from Daniel on the recipe:

This recipe is a sweet variation on a traditional carbonara with the addition of red capsicum and balsamic vinegar. With a few simple substitutions, like some diced eggplant and julienned cayenne chillies for the bacon, this can easily become a vegetarian dish, in which instance I recommend finding something to replace the umami notes of the egg yolks with something like two teaspoons of porcini powder and then reducing the use of salt somewhat.

This is a dish that reminds me of all that I love about law and literature, the sweet intellectual vivacity and adaptability of a hybrid discourse that looks to reïnvent both of its primary fields.


Serves 6

Ingredients

  • 1 cup of white onion, finely chopped
  • 1 cup of red capsicum, finely chopped
  • 3 garlic cloves, crushed & roughly chopped
  • 10 mushrooms, quartered
  • 5 rounds of short-cut bacon
  • 1 tbsp of unsalted cultured/European butter
  • 3 egg yolks
  • ½ cup of Grana Padano, grated
  • ½ cup of Parmigiano Reggiano, grated
  • Additional grated Parmigiano Reggiano to serve
  • 1 cup of chicken or veal stock
  • ½ cup of parsley, chiffonade
  • ½ cup of basil, chiffonade
  • Olive oil
  • 3 tbsp of aged balsamic vinegar
  • 1 tbsp of smokey paprika
  • Salt
  • Pepper
  • 4 bay leaves
  • Spaghetti or other long and thin pasta, such as tagliatelle or fettuccine, to serve 6

Method

  1. Preheat fan-force oven to 180C
  2. Set slices of bacon on a roasting tray lined with baking paper
  3. Season the bacon slices with splashes of olive oil and balsamic vinegar, then season with pepper and paprika
  4. Bake the bacon for 12-15 minutes or until the edges of the meat begin to crisp
  5. Once cooked, set aside on paper towel to drain; chop when cool enough to handle
  6. Sauté the vegetables on a medium heat in a little olive oil until the onion is transparent in a wide-based saucepan
  7. Add the mushrooms and a bay leaf, season with a pinch of salt, and cook for 5 minutes at medium
  8. Add the butter and cook at medium for a further 10-15 minutes
  9. By now the mushrooms and onion have taken on a bit of colour to indicate caramelisation (the Maillard reaction caused by the proteins and amino acids in the butter), add the chicken stock and bring to a light simmer
  10. Once at a light simmer, turn the heat to low and put a lid on the saucepan, allow to cook covered for 10 minutes (the more time you can give this step the better and more complex the flavours will become, but 1 cup of stock is good for 10 mins so vary volume accordingly)
  11. While the sauce is simmering bring a large pot of cold salted water to the boil with 3 bay leaves
  12. Cook the pasta to al dente per the packet instructions or just under al dente if you prefer your pasta precisely al dente upon serving
  13. Whisk egg yolks together with a pinch of salt and pepper
  14. Chiffonade the parsley and basil
  15. Once the pasta is cooked, reserve 1 cup of the pasta water
  16. Uncover the sauce, lower the heat to lowest and stir briefly, then add the cooked pasta directly to the pan (we want some of the residual pasta water to come with it) along with the chopped bacon, mixed egg, grated cheeses, herb chiffonade, and cup of pasta water.
  17. Gently work the pasta and other ingredients together in the pan. It will be ready once all of the pasta takes on a slightly yellow hue, indicating an even distribution of the sauce and egg yolks.
  18. Turn off the heat and serve the pasta with a generous garnish of grated Parmigiano Reggiano.

Daniel Hourigan is Lecturer in English Literature at the University of Southern Queensland. He is the author of, amongst other things, Law and Enjoyment: Power, Pleasure and Psychoanalysis (Routledge 2015)‘Postmodern Anarchy in the Modern Legal Psyche: Law, Anarchy and Psychoanalytic Philosophy’ (2012) 21 Griffith Law Review 330, and, most recently, ‘Specters and Psychoanalysis in the Turn to Law and Affect’ (2017) Law and Literature (doi: 10.1080/1535685X.2017.1327694).


‘Cooking with the Legal Humanities’ is a series of blog posts sharing recipes from the many keen cooks who lurk within the global cultural legal community.

The Cry of the Jurist: Ratio!

Ratio! The rallying cry of jurists everywhere. Show your reasoning, explain and justify your point! Show your workings, as it were. Display, for judgment, the mechanics of your argument—its details, moves, steps, dimensions, elements; the strength of its conclusions, its framing and structure. And judgment, of course, has its own ratio, its own reasoning and rationality, structure and movement. Its own play of elements, of sources, connections, and applications; a play of interpretation.

Ratio! A play of reasoning. A game of judgment. And, indeed, a card game. A table-top battle of who is the best judge, the most able to amass and amalgamate legal structure and judicial elements.

A card game?! Yes, that’s right. David Yuratich and I are developing a card game based on legal reasoning. Ratio! A Game of Judgment gives players the chance to play at legal reasoning. To practice, challenge, and reflect on the juridical construction of law. A useful classroom tool, perhaps? Or just for fun with friends and colleagues.

The basic concept is that players are judges, seeking to ‘out-judge’ their fellow players. Turns pass, cards are collected and discarded, and the elements of a judgment emerge on the table top. Each player constructing their own sets of facts and material facts (if such a distinction exists), their own applications and discussions of cases and foundational cases, their own academic and statutory authority. A ratio must be made (if such a thing exists), and general obiter discussion is collected. An opportunity to see the elements of a judgment emerge: their logic, relation, and value (more complex judgments, with more elements, means that judgment receives more juris points—just like in real juridical life).

An opportunity, also, to reflect: are these really the elements of a judgment? Do these divisions and structures really ‘exist’? Is this really what judges do? Is this how judgment works?

We are currently developing iteration number four, following playtesting of previous versions with some (very patient) colleagues. And we will hopefully seeking some funding to assist in the initial printing and publication, and dissemination to willing law teachers for classroom use across the country. And—as is the dream—mass market publication, swiftly followed by world domination. Or maybe just a quiet night in with friends.

[NB: The development of this game was in no way inspired by Ivey v Genting Casinos.]

Kent Summer School in Critical Theory 2017

It’s that time of year again: the Kent Summer School in Critical Theory is open for applications! I did this a few years ago (see photographic proof!), and it was a deeply inspiring experience. And two weeks in Paris is not to be sniffed at. Below is a short announcement message from Connal and Maria, the organisers. Follow the website link for more info and to apply for your place.

—Thom.

Dear Friends and Colleagues,

We are excited to announce that the Kent Summer School in Critical Theory will be held this year in Paris, 26 June – 7 July 2017. Our website is now live, and we invite you pay us a visit: www.kssct.org.

Applications are now open to attend the summer school, and you will find application instructions on the website.

This summer school for early career researchers and doctoral students from all disciplines aims to create a unique pedagogical experience, enabling leading critical thinkers to conduct an intensive 2-week seminar with a new generation of critical scholars.

The teachers of the intensive seminars in 2017 will be Professor Timothy Campbell (Cornell, USA) and Professor Patricia J Williams (Columbia, USA). An outline and indicative reading list for each intensive seminar is now available on the website. Details of evening lectures and other events will be added as we confirm the full schedule for this year’s meeting.

We would be very grateful if you would circulate this notice as widely as possible amongst friends, colleagues and students.

With best wishes,
Maria Drakopoulou and Connal Parsley

Sovereign Supers!! — more student creations

This week in Cultural Legal Studies, we were discussing sovereignty and superheroes. I asked my students to create/design a superhero that expresses something about sovereignty. Here are their creations…

Fair Lady

  • Aged somewhere between 5 and 12 years
  • Her brother was kidnapped
  • People don’t listen to kids enough, so she developed a wave of persuasion that she used to overpower her brother’s kidnappers and save him
  • She now uses this power to do good and seek fairness, for example by going into a court and overpowering unjust decisions

Shadow—sorry, no photo of this one 😦

  • He is a shadow
  • He came from an alien world because he saw Earth was corrupt and unjust, was a mess
  • He came (from beyond) to help fight corruption, evil, and injustice
  • He has powers of invisibility (because sovereign power is not always visible) and super-strength (limitlessness of sovereign power)

Princess Police

  • She was an everyday citizen, but her parents were killed when she was a child
  • She seeks just revenge
  • Her crown gives her power over people, to protect people
  • Her speech give rules for people to follow
  • BAM! POW! signals the force of protection, of justice, of strength
  • She is only linked to one country, she only protects one nation
  • She flies, so she can get to crimes, etc, quicker (just ‘cos flying’s cool)
  • Her chains, around her neck: she uses these to capture and trap bad guys

Fuckboy-Eliminator

  • She was an ordinary office worker, until she had her heart broken.
  • She felt the unfairness of patriarchy, then, and now she seeks justice by eliminating the fuckboys that rule the world (badly)
  • Her crown represents power/authority
  • Her powers are: to correct others behaviour and to see the past/future (and thus the truth, and not the lies of fuckboys).

The Chooser

  • He was raised without rules (like a state of nature), but now he decides on them
  • He gained his powers when he fell into radioactive waste in the midst of a nuclear war (of all against all)
  • He destroys ambiguity and uncertainty wherever he goes, with his power to make decisions
  • And his power of having a very loud voice, so he is louder than anyone else