Poststructuralism: A Very Short

Introduction, 2nd Edition Catherine

Belsey
Visit to download the full and correct content document:
https://ebookmass.com/product/poststructuralism-a-very-short-introduction-2nd-editio
n-catherine-belsey-2/
More products digital (pdf, epub, mobi) instant
download maybe you interests ...

Poststructuralism: A Very Short Introduction, 2nd

Edition Catherine Belsey

https://ebookmass.com/product/poststructuralism-a-very-short-
introduction-2nd-edition-catherine-belsey/

Genes: A Very Short Introduction 2nd Edition Jonathan

Slack

https://ebookmass.com/product/genes-a-very-short-
introduction-2nd-edition-jonathan-slack/

The Spartans: a Very Short Introduction Andrew J.

Bayliss

https://ebookmass.com/product/the-spartans-a-very-short-
introduction-andrew-j-bayliss/

Revolutions: A Very Short Introduction (2nd Edition)

Jack A. Goldstone

https://ebookmass.com/product/revolutions-a-very-short-
introduction-2nd-edition-jack-a-goldstone/
Democracy: A Very Short Introduction (Very Short
Introductions) 2023rd Edition Zack

https://ebookmass.com/product/democracy-a-very-short-
introduction-very-short-introductions-2023rd-edition-zack/

Nanotechnology: A Very Short Introduction Philip

Moriarty

https://ebookmass.com/product/nanotechnology-a-very-short-
introduction-philip-moriarty/

Nelson Mandela: a Very Short Introduction , 2nd Edition

Elleke Boehmer

https://ebookmass.com/product/nelson-mandela-a-very-short-
introduction-2nd-edition-elleke-boehmer/

Ancient Philosophy: a Very Short Introduction , 2nd

Edition Julia Annas

https://ebookmass.com/product/ancient-philosophy-a-very-short-
introduction-2nd-edition-julia-annas/

Peace: A Very Short Introduction (2nd Edition) Oliver

P. Richmond

https://ebookmass.com/product/peace-a-very-short-
introduction-2nd-edition-oliver-p-richmond/
Poststructuralism: A Very Short Introduction
 VERY SHORT INTRODUCTIONS are for anyone wanting a stimulating and
accessible way into a new subject. They are written by experts, and have
been translated into more than 45 different languages.
The series began in 1995, and now covers a wide variety of topics in every
discipline. The VSI library currently contains over 700 volumes—a Very Short
Introduction to everything from Psychology and Philosophy of Science to
American History and Relativity—and continues to grow in every subject
area.

Very Short Introductions available now:

ABOLITIONISM Richard S. Newman

THE ABRAHAMIC RELIGIONS Charles L. Cohen
ACCOUNTING Christopher Nobes
ADOLESCENCE Peter K. Smith
THEODOR W. ADORNO Andrew Bowie
ADVERTISING Winston Fletcher
AERIAL WARFARE Frank Ledwidge
AESTHETICS Bence Nanay
AFRICAN AMERICAN RELIGION Eddie S. Glaude Jr
AFRICAN HISTORY John Parker and Richard Rathbone
AFRICAN POLITICS Ian Taylor
AFRICAN RELIGIONS Jacob K. Olupona
AGEING Nancy A. Pachana
AGNOSTICISM Robin Le Poidevin
AGRICULTURE Paul Brassley and Richard Soffe
ALEXANDER THE GREAT Hugh Bowden
ALGEBRA Peter M. Higgins
AMERICAN BUSINESS HISTORY Walter A. Friedman
AMERICAN CULTURAL HISTORY Eric Avila
AMERICAN FOREIGN RELATIONS Andrew Preston
AMERICAN HISTORY Paul S. Boyer
AMERICAN IMMIGRATION David A. Gerber
AMERICAN INTELLECTUAL HISTORY Jennifer Ratner-Rosenhagen
AMERICAN LEGAL HISTORY G. Edward White
AMERICAN MILITARY HISTORY Joseph T. Glatthaar
AMERICAN NAVAL HISTORY Craig L. Symonds
AMERICAN POETRY David Caplan
AMERICAN POLITICAL HISTORY Donald Critchlow
AMERICAN POLITICAL PARTIES AND ELECTIONS L. Sandy Maisel
AMERICAN POLITICS Richard M. Valelly
THE AMERICAN PRESIDENCY Charles O. Jones
THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION Robert J. Allison
AMERICAN SLAVERY Heather Andrea Williams
THE AMERICAN SOUTH Charles Reagan Wilson
THE AMERICAN WEST Stephen Aron
AMERICAN WOMEN’S HISTORY Susan Ware
AMPHIBIANS T. S. Kemp
ANAESTHESIA Aidan O’Donnell
ANALYTIC PHILOSOPHY Michael Beaney
ANARCHISM Colin Ward
ANCIENT ASSYRIA Karen Radner
ANCIENT EGYPT Ian Shaw
ANCIENT EGYPTIAN ART AND ARCHITECTURE Christina Riggs
ANCIENT GREECE Paul Cartledge
THE ANCIENT NEAR EAST Amanda H. Podany
ANCIENT PHILOSOPHY Julia Annas
ANCIENT WARFARE Harry Sidebottom
ANGELS David Albert Jones
ANGLICANISM Mark Chapman
THE ANGLO-SAXON AGE John Blair
ANIMAL BEHAVIOUR Tristram D. Wyatt
THE ANIMAL KINGDOM Peter Holland
ANIMAL RIGHTS David DeGrazia
THE ANTARCTIC Klaus Dodds
ANTHROPOCENE Erle C. Ellis
ANTISEMITISM Steven Beller
ANXIETY Daniel Freeman and Jason Freeman
THE APOCRYPHAL GOSPELS Paul Foster
APPLIED MATHEMATICS Alain Goriely
THOMAS AQUINAS Fergus Kerr
ARBITRATION Thomas Schultz and Thomas Grant
ARCHAEOLOGY Paul Bahn
ARCHITECTURE Andrew Ballantyne
THE ARCTIC Klaus Dodds and Jamie Woodward
ARISTOCRACY William Doyle
ARISTOTLE Jonathan Barnes
ART HISTORY Dana Arnold
ART THEORY Cynthia Freeland
ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE Margaret A. Boden
ASIAN AMERICAN HISTORY Madeline Y. Hsu
ASTROBIOLOGY David C. Catling
ASTROPHYSICS James Binney
ATHEISM Julian Baggini
THE ATMOSPHERE Paul I. Palmer
AUGUSTINE Henry Chadwick
JANE AUSTEN Tom Keymer
AUSTRALIA Kenneth Morgan
AUTISM Uta Frith
AUTOBIOGRAPHY Laura Marcus
THE AVANT GARDE David Cottington
THE AZTECS Davíd Carrasco
BABYLONIA Trevor Bryce
BACTERIA Sebastian G. B. Amyes
BANKING John Goddard and John O. S. Wilson
BARTHES Jonathan Culler
THE BEATS David Sterritt
BEAUTY Roger Scruton
LUDWIG VAN BEETHOVEN Mark Evan Bonds
BEHAVIOURAL ECONOMICS Michelle Baddeley
BESTSELLERS John Sutherland
THE BIBLE John Riches
BIBLICAL ARCHAEOLOGY Eric H. Cline
BIG DATA Dawn E. Holmes
BIOCHEMISTRY Mark Lorch
BIOGEOGRAPHY Mark V. Lomolino
BIOGRAPHY Hermione Lee
BIOMETRICS Michael Fairhurst
ELIZABETH BISHOP Jonathan F. S. Post
BLACK HOLES Katherine Blundell
BLASPHEMY Yvonne Sherwood
BLOOD Chris Cooper
THE BLUES Elijah Wald
THE BODY Chris Shilling
NIELS BOHR J. L. Heilbron
THE BOOK OF COMMON PRAYER Brian Cummings
THE BOOK OF MORMON Terryl Givens
BORDERS Alexander C. Diener and Joshua Hagen
THE BRAIN Michael O’Shea
BRANDING Robert Jones
THE BRICS Andrew F. Cooper
THE BRITISH CONSTITUTION Martin Loughlin
THE BRITISH EMPIRE Ashley Jackson
BRITISH POLITICS Tony Wright
BUDDHA Michael Carrithers
BUDDHISM Damien Keown
BUDDHIST ETHICS Damien Keown
BYZANTIUM Peter Sarris
CALVINISM Jon Balserak
ALBERT CAMUS Oliver Gloag
CANADA Donald Wright
CANCER Nicholas James
CAPITALISM James Fulcher
CATHOLICISM Gerald O’Collins
CAUSATION Stephen Mumford and Rani Lill Anjum
THE CELL Terence Allen and Graham Cowling
THE CELTS Barry Cunliffe
CHAOS Leonard Smith
GEOFFREY CHAUCER David Wallace
CHEMISTRY Peter Atkins
CHILD PSYCHOLOGY Usha Goswami
CHILDREN’S LITERATURE Kimberley Reynolds
CHINESE LITERATURE Sabina Knight
CHOICE THEORY Michael Allingham
CHRISTIAN ART Beth Williamson
CHRISTIAN ETHICS D. Stephen Long
CHRISTIANITY Linda Woodhead
CIRCADIAN RHYTHMS Russell Foster and Leon Kreitzman
CITIZENSHIP Richard Bellamy
CITY PLANNING Carl Abbott
CIVIL ENGINEERING David Muir Wood
CLASSICAL LITERATURE William Allan
CLASSICAL MYTHOLOGY Helen Morales
CLASSICS Mary Beard and John Henderson
CLAUSEWITZ Michael Howard
CLIMATE Mark Maslin
CLIMATE CHANGE Mark Maslin
CLINICAL PSYCHOLOGY Susan Llewelyn and Katie Aafjes-van Doorn
COGNITIVE BEHAVIOURAL THERAPY Freda McManus
COGNITIVE NEUROSCIENCE Richard Passingham
THE COLD WAR Robert J. McMahon
COLONIAL AMERICA Alan Taylor
COLONIAL LATIN AMERICAN LITERATURE Rolena Adorno
COMBINATORICS Robin Wilson
COMEDY Matthew Bevis
COMMUNISM Leslie Holmes
COMPARATIVE LITERATURE Ben Hutchinson
COMPETITION AND ANTITRUST LAW Ariel Ezrachi
COMPLEXITY John H. Holland
THE COMPUTER Darrel Ince
COMPUTER SCIENCE Subrata Dasgupta
CONCENTRATION CAMPS Dan Stone
CONFUCIANISM Daniel K. Gardner
THE CONQUISTADORS Matthew Restall and Felipe Fernández-Armesto
CONSCIENCE Paul Strohm
CONSCIOUSNESS Susan Blackmore
CONTEMPORARY ART Julian Stallabrass
CONTEMPORARY FICTION Robert Eaglestone
CONTINENTAL PHILOSOPHY Simon Critchley
COPERNICUS Owen Gingerich
CORAL REEFS Charles Sheppard
CORPORATE SOCIAL RESPONSIBILITY Jeremy Moon
CORRUPTION Leslie Holmes
COSMOLOGY Peter Coles
COUNTRY MUSIC Richard Carlin
CREATIVITY Vlad Glăveanu
CRIME FICTION Richard Bradford
CRIMINAL JUSTICE Julian V. Roberts
CRIMINOLOGY Tim Newburn
CRITICAL THEORY Stephen Eric Bronner
THE CRUSADES Christopher Tyerman
CRYPTOGRAPHY Fred Piper and Sean Murphy
CRYSTALLOGRAPHY A. M. Glazer
THE CULTURAL REVOLUTION Richard Curt Kraus
DADA AND SURREALISM David Hopkins
DANTE Peter Hainsworth and David Robey
DARWIN Jonathan Howard
THE DEAD SEA SCROLLS Timothy H. Lim
DECADENCE David Weir
DECOLONIZATION Dane Kennedy
DEMENTIA Kathleen Taylor
DEMOCRACY Bernard Crick
DEMOGRAPHY Sarah Harper
DEPRESSION Jan Scott and Mary Jane Tacchi
DERRIDA Simon Glendinning
DESCARTES Tom Sorell
DESERTS Nick Middleton
DESIGN John Heskett
DEVELOPMENT Ian Goldin
DEVELOPMENTAL BIOLOGY Lewis Wolpert
THE DEVIL Darren Oldridge
DIASPORA Kevin Kenny
CHARLES DICKENS Jenny Hartley
DICTIONARIES Lynda Mugglestone
DINOSAURS David Norman
DIPLOMATIC HISTORY Joseph M. Siracusa
DOCUMENTARY FILM Patricia Aufderheide
DREAMING J. Allan Hobson
DRUGS Les Iversen
DRUIDS Barry Cunliffe
DYNASTY Jeroen Duindam
DYSLEXIA Margaret J. Snowling
EARLY MUSIC Thomas Forrest Kelly
THE EARTH Martin Redfern
EARTH SYSTEM SCIENCE Tim Lenton
ECOLOGY Jaboury Ghazoul
ECONOMICS Partha Dasgupta
EDUCATION Gary Thomas
EGYPTIAN MYTH Geraldine Pinch
EIGHTEENTH‑CENTURY BRITAIN Paul Langford
THE ELEMENTS Philip Ball
EMOTION Dylan Evans
EMPIRE Stephen Howe
EMPLOYMENT LAW David Cabrelli
ENERGY SYSTEMS Nick Jenkins
ENGELS Terrell Carver
ENGINEERING David Blockley
THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE Simon Horobin
ENGLISH LITERATURE Jonathan Bate
THE ENLIGHTENMENT John Robertson
ENTREPRENEURSHIP Paul Westhead and Mike Wright
ENVIRONMENTAL ECONOMICS Stephen Smith
ENVIRONMENTAL ETHICS Robin Attfield
ENVIRONMENTAL LAW Elizabeth Fisher
ENVIRONMENTAL POLITICS Andrew Dobson
ENZYMES Paul Engel
EPICUREANISM Catherine Wilson
EPIDEMIOLOGY Rodolfo Saracci
ETHICS Simon Blackburn
ETHNOMUSICOLOGY Timothy Rice
THE ETRUSCANS Christopher Smith
EUGENICS Philippa Levine
THE EUROPEAN UNION Simon Usherwood and John Pinder
EUROPEAN UNION LAW Anthony Arnull
EVANGELICALISM John Stackhouse
EVOLUTION Brian and Deborah Charlesworth
EXISTENTIALISM Thomas Flynn
EXPLORATION Stewart A. Weaver
EXTINCTION Paul B. Wignall
THE EYE Michael Land
FAIRY TALE Marina Warner
FAMILY LAW Jonathan Herring
MICHAEL FARADAY Frank A. J. L. James
FASCISM Kevin Passmore
FASHION Rebecca Arnold
FEDERALISM Mark J. Rozell and Clyde Wilcox
FEMINISM Margaret Walters
FILM Michael Wood
FILM MUSIC Kathryn Kalinak
FILM NOIR James Naremore
FIRE Andrew C. Scott
THE FIRST WORLD WAR Michael Howard
FLUID MECHANICS Eric Lauga
FOLK MUSIC Mark Slobin
FOOD John Krebs
FORENSIC PSYCHOLOGY David Canter
FORENSIC SCIENCE Jim Fraser
FORESTS Jaboury Ghazoul
FOSSILS Keith Thomson
FOUCAULT Gary Gutting
THE FOUNDING FATHERS R. B. Bernstein
FRACTALS Kenneth Falconer
FREE SPEECH Nigel Warburton
FREE WILL Thomas Pink
FREEMASONRY Andreas Önnerfors
FRENCH LITERATURE John D. Lyons
FRENCH PHILOSOPHY Stephen Gaukroger and Knox Peden
THE FRENCH REVOLUTION William Doyle
FREUD Anthony Storr
FUNDAMENTALISM Malise Ruthven
FUNGI Nicholas P. Money
THE FUTURE Jennifer M. Gidley
GALAXIES John Gribbin
GALILEO Stillman Drake
GAME THEORY Ken Binmore
GANDHI Bhikhu Parekh
GARDEN HISTORY Gordon Campbell
GENES Jonathan Slack
GENIUS Andrew Robinson
GENOMICS John Archibald
GEOGRAPHY John Matthews and David Herbert
GEOLOGY Jan Zalasiewicz
GEOMETRY Maciej Dunajski
GEOPHYSICS William Lowrie
GEOPOLITICS Klaus Dodds
GERMAN LITERATURE Nicholas Boyle
GERMAN PHILOSOPHY Andrew Bowie
THE GHETTO Bryan Cheyette
GLACIATION David J. A. Evans
GLOBAL CATASTROPHES Bill McGuire
GLOBAL ECONOMIC HISTORY Robert C. Allen
GLOBAL ISLAM Nile Green
GLOBALIZATION Manfred B. Steger
GOD John Bowker
GOETHE Ritchie Robertson
THE GOTHIC Nick Groom
GOVERNANCE Mark Bevir
GRAVITY Timothy Clifton
THE GREAT DEPRESSION AND THE NEW DEAL Eric Rauchway
HABEAS CORPUS Amanda Tyler
HABERMAS James Gordon Finlayson
THE HABSBURG EMPIRE Martyn Rady
HAPPINESS Daniel M. Haybron
THE HARLEM RENAISSANCE Cheryl A. Wall
THE HEBREW BIBLE AS LITERATURE Tod Linafelt
HEGEL Peter Singer
HEIDEGGER Michael Inwood
THE HELLENISTIC AGE Peter Thonemann
HEREDITY John Waller
HERMENEUTICS Jens Zimmermann
HERODOTUS Jennifer T. Roberts
HIEROGLYPHS Penelope Wilson
HINDUISM Kim Knott
HISTORY John H. Arnold
THE HISTORY OF ASTRONOMY Michael Hoskin
THE HISTORY OF CHEMISTRY William H. Brock
THE HISTORY OF CHILDHOOD James Marten
THE HISTORY OF CINEMA Geoffrey Nowell-Smith
THE HISTORY OF LIFE Michael Benton
THE HISTORY OF MATHEMATICS Jacqueline Stedall
THE HISTORY OF MEDICINE William Bynum
THE HISTORY OF PHYSICS J. L. Heilbron
THE HISTORY OF POLITICAL THOUGHT Richard Whatmore
THE HISTORY OF TIME Leofranc Holford‑Strevens
HIV AND AIDS Alan Whiteside
HOBBES Richard Tuck
HOLLYWOOD Peter Decherney
THE HOLY ROMAN EMPIRE Joachim Whaley
HOME Michael Allen Fox
HOMER Barbara Graziosi
HORMONES Martin Luck
HORROR Darryl Jones
HUMAN ANATOMY Leslie Klenerman
HUMAN EVOLUTION Bernard Wood
HUMAN PHYSIOLOGY Jamie A. Davies
HUMAN RESOURCE MANAGEMENT Adrian Wilkinson
HUMAN RIGHTS Andrew Clapham
HUMANISM Stephen Law
HUME James A. Harris
HUMOUR Noël Carroll
THE ICE AGE Jamie Woodward
IDENTITY Florian Coulmas
IDEOLOGY Michael Freeden
THE IMMUNE SYSTEM Paul Klenerman
INDIAN CINEMA Ashish Rajadhyaksha
INDIAN PHILOSOPHY Sue Hamilton
THE INDUSTRIAL REVOLUTION Robert C. Allen
INFECTIOUS DISEASE Marta L. Wayne and Benjamin M. Bolker
INFINITY Ian Stewart
INFORMATION Luciano Floridi
INNOVATION Mark Dodgson and David Gann
INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY Siva Vaidhyanathan
INTELLIGENCE Ian J. Deary
INTERNATIONAL LAW Vaughan Lowe
INTERNATIONAL MIGRATION Khalid Koser
INTERNATIONAL RELATIONS Christian Reus-Smit
INTERNATIONAL SECURITY Christopher S. Browning
INSECTS Simon Leather
IRAN Ali M. Ansari
ISLAM Malise Ruthven
ISLAMIC HISTORY Adam Silverstein
ISLAMIC LAW Mashood A. Baderin
ISOTOPES Rob Ellam
ITALIAN LITERATURE Peter Hainsworth and David Robey
HENRY JAMES Susan L. Mizruchi
JESUS Richard Bauckham
JEWISH HISTORY David N. Myers
JEWISH LITERATURE Ilan Stavans
JOURNALISM Ian Hargreaves
JAMES JOYCE Colin MacCabe
JUDAISM Norman Solomon
JUNG Anthony Stevens
KABBALAH Joseph Dan
KAFKA Ritchie Robertson
KANT Roger Scruton
KEYNES Robert Skidelsky
KIERKEGAARD Patrick Gardiner
KNOWLEDGE Jennifer Nagel
THE KORAN Michael Cook
KOREA Michael J. Seth
LAKES Warwick F. Vincent
LANDSCAPE ARCHITECTURE Ian H. Thompson
LANDSCAPES AND GEOMORPHOLOGY Andrew Goudie and Heather Viles
LANGUAGES Stephen R. Anderson
LATE ANTIQUITY Gillian Clark
LAW Raymond Wacks
THE LAWS OF THERMODYNAMICS Peter Atkins
LEADERSHIP Keith Grint
LEARNING Mark Haselgrove
LEIBNIZ Maria Rosa Antognazza
C. S. LEWIS James Como
LIBERALISM Michael Freeden
LIGHT Ian Walmsley
LINCOLN Allen C. Guelzo
LINGUISTICS Peter Matthews
LITERARY THEORY Jonathan Culler
LOCKE John Dunn
LOGIC Graham Priest
LOVE Ronald de Sousa
MARTIN LUTHER Scott H. Hendrix
MACHIAVELLI Quentin Skinner
MADNESS Andrew Scull
MAGIC Owen Davies
MAGNA CARTA Nicholas Vincent
MAGNETISM Stephen Blundell
MALTHUS Donald Winch
MAMMALS T. S. Kemp
MANAGEMENT John Hendry
NELSON MANDELA Elleke Boehmer
MAO Delia Davin
MARINE BIOLOGY Philip V. Mladenov
MARKETING Kenneth Le Meunier-FitzHugh
THE MARQUIS DE SADE John Phillips
MARTYRDOM Jolyon Mitchell
MARX Peter Singer
MATERIALS Christopher Hall
MATHEMATICAL FINANCE Mark H. A. Davis
MATHEMATICS Timothy Gowers
MATTER Geoff Cottrell
THE MAYA Matthew Restall and Amara Solari
THE MEANING OF LIFE Terry Eagleton
MEASUREMENT David Hand
MEDICAL ETHICS Michael Dunn and Tony Hope
MEDICAL LAW Charles Foster
MEDIEVAL BRITAIN John Gillingham and Ralph A. Griffiths
MEDIEVAL LITERATURE Elaine Treharne
MEDIEVAL PHILOSOPHY John Marenbon
MEMORY Jonathan K. Foster
METAPHYSICS Stephen Mumford
METHODISM William J. Abraham
THE MEXICAN REVOLUTION Alan Knight
MICROBIOLOGY Nicholas P. Money
MICROECONOMICS Avinash Dixit
MICROSCOPY Terence Allen
THE MIDDLE AGES Miri Rubin
MILITARY JUSTICE Eugene R. Fidell
MILITARY STRATEGY Antulio J. Echevarria II
JOHN STUART MILL Gregory Claeys
MINERALS David Vaughan
MIRACLES Yujin Nagasawa
MODERN ARCHITECTURE Adam Sharr
MODERN ART David Cottington
MODERN BRAZIL Anthony W. Pereira
MODERN CHINA Rana Mitter
MODERN DRAMA Kirsten E. Shepherd-Barr
MODERN FRANCE Vanessa R. Schwartz
MODERN INDIA Craig Jeffrey
MODERN IRELAND Senia Pašeta
MODERN ITALY Anna Cento Bull
MODERN JAPAN Christopher Goto-Jones
MODERN LATIN AMERICAN LITERATURE Roberto González Echevarría
MODERN WAR Richard English
MODERNISM Christopher Butler
MOLECULAR BIOLOGY Aysha Divan and Janice A. Royds
MOLECULES Philip Ball
MONASTICISM Stephen J. Davis
THE MONGOLS Morris Rossabi
MONTAIGNE William M. Hamlin
MOONS David A. Rothery
MORMONISM Richard Lyman Bushman
MOUNTAINS Martin F. Price
MUHAMMAD Jonathan A. C. Brown
MULTICULTURALISM Ali Rattansi
MULTILINGUALISM John C. Maher
MUSIC Nicholas Cook
MYTH Robert A. Segal
NAPOLEON David Bell
THE NAPOLEONIC WARS Mike Rapport
NATIONALISM Steven Grosby
NATIVE AMERICAN LITERATURE Sean Teuton
NAVIGATION Jim Bennett
NAZI GERMANY Jane Caplan
NEOLIBERALISM Manfred B. Steger and Ravi K. Roy
NETWORKS Guido Caldarelli and Michele Catanzaro
THE NEW TESTAMENT Luke Timothy Johnson
THE NEW TESTAMENT AS LITERATURE Kyle Keefer
NEWTON Robert Iliffe
NIETZSCHE Michael Tanner
NINETEENTH‑CENTURY BRITAIN Christopher Harvie and H. C. G. Matthew
THE NORMAN CONQUEST George Garnett
NORTH AMERICAN INDIANS Theda Perdue and Michael D. Green
NORTHERN IRELAND Marc Mulholland
NOTHING Frank Close
NUCLEAR PHYSICS Frank Close
NUCLEAR POWER Maxwell Irvine
NUCLEAR WEAPONS Joseph M. Siracusa
NUMBER THEORY Robin Wilson
NUMBERS Peter M. Higgins
NUTRITION David A. Bender
OBJECTIVITY Stephen Gaukroger
OCEANS Dorrik Stow
THE OLD TESTAMENT Michael D. Coogan
THE ORCHESTRA D. Kern Holoman
ORGANIC CHEMISTRY Graham Patrick
ORGANIZATIONS Mary Jo Hatch
ORGANIZED CRIME Georgios A. Antonopoulos and Georgios Papanicolaou
ORTHODOX CHRISTIANITY A. Edward Siecienski
OVID Llewelyn Morgan
PAGANISM Owen Davies
PAKISTAN Pippa Virdee
THE PALESTINIAN-ISRAELI CONFLICT Martin Bunton
PANDEMICS Christian W. McMillen
PARTICLE PHYSICS Frank Close
PAUL E. P. Sanders
PEACE Oliver P. Richmond
PENTECOSTALISM William K. Kay
PERCEPTION Brian Rogers
THE PERIODIC TABLE Eric R. Scerri
PHILOSOPHICAL METHOD Timothy Williamson
PHILOSOPHY Edward Craig
PHILOSOPHY IN THE ISLAMIC WORLD Peter Adamson
PHILOSOPHY OF BIOLOGY Samir Okasha
PHILOSOPHY OF LAW Raymond Wacks
PHILOSOPHY OF MIND Barbara Gail Montero
PHILOSOPHY OF PHYSICS David Wallace
PHILOSOPHY OF SCIENCE Samir Okasha
PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION Tim Bayne
PHOTOGRAPHY Steve Edwards
PHYSICAL CHEMISTRY Peter Atkins
PHYSICS Sidney Perkowitz
PILGRIMAGE Ian Reader
PLAGUE Paul Slack
PLANETARY SYSTEMS Raymond T. Pierrehumbert
PLANETS David A. Rothery
PLANTS Timothy Walker
PLATE TECTONICS Peter Molnar
PLATO Julia Annas
POETRY Bernard O’Donoghue
POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY David Miller
POLITICS Kenneth Minogue
POLYGAMY Sarah M. S. Pearsall
POPULISM Cas Mudde and Cristóbal Rovira Kaltwasser
POSTCOLONIALISM Robert Young
POSTMODERNISM Christopher Butler
POSTSTRUCTURALISM Catherine Belsey
POVERTY Philip N. Jefferson
PREHISTORY Chris Gosden
PRESOCRATIC PHILOSOPHY Catherine Osborne
PRIVACY Raymond Wacks
PROBABILITY John Haigh
PROGRESSIVISM Walter Nugent
PROHIBITION W. J. Rorabaugh
PROJECTS Andrew Davies
PROTESTANTISM Mark A. Noll
PSYCHIATRY Tom Burns
PSYCHOANALYSIS Daniel Pick
PSYCHOLOGY Gillian Butler and Freda McManus
PSYCHOLOGY OF MUSIC Elizabeth Hellmuth Margulis
PSYCHOPATHY Essi Viding
PSYCHOTHERAPY Tom Burns and Eva Burns-Lundgren
PUBLIC ADMINISTRATION Stella Z. Theodoulou and Ravi K. Roy
PUBLIC HEALTH Virginia Berridge
PURITANISM Francis J. Bremer
THE QUAKERS Pink Dandelion
QUANTUM THEORY John Polkinghorne
RACISM Ali Rattansi
RADIOACTIVITY Claudio Tuniz
RASTAFARI Ennis B. Edmonds
READING Belinda Jack
THE REAGAN REVOLUTION Gil Troy
REALITY Jan Westerhoff
RECONSTRUCTION Allen C. Guelzo
THE REFORMATION Peter Marshall
REFUGEES Gil Loescher
RELATIVITY Russell Stannard
RELIGION Thomas A. Tweed
RELIGION IN AMERICA Timothy Beal
THE RENAISSANCE Jerry Brotton
RENAISSANCE ART Geraldine A. Johnson
RENEWABLE ENERGY Nick Jelley
REPTILES T.S. Kemp
REVOLUTIONS Jack A. Goldstone
RHETORIC Richard Toye
RISK Baruch Fischhoff and John Kadvany
RITUAL Barry Stephenson
RIVERS Nick Middleton
ROBOTICS Alan Winfield
ROCKS Jan Zalasiewicz
ROMAN BRITAIN Peter Salway
THE ROMAN EMPIRE Christopher Kelly
THE ROMAN REPUBLIC David M. Gwynn
ROMANTICISM Michael Ferber
ROUSSEAU Robert Wokler
RUSSELL A. C. Grayling
THE RUSSIAN ECONOMY Richard Connolly
RUSSIAN HISTORY Geoffrey Hosking
RUSSIAN LITERATURE Catriona Kelly
THE RUSSIAN REVOLUTION S. A. Smith
SAINTS Simon Yarrow
SAMURAI Michael Wert
SAVANNAS Peter A. Furley
SCEPTICISM Duncan Pritchard
SCHIZOPHRENIA Chris Frith and Eve Johnstone
SCHOPENHAUER Christopher Janaway
SCIENCE AND RELIGION Thomas Dixon and Adam R. Shapiro
SCIENCE FICTION David Seed
THE SCIENTIFIC REVOLUTION Lawrence M. Principe
SCOTLAND Rab Houston
SECULARISM Andrew Copson
SEXUAL SELECTION Marlene Zuk and Leigh W. Simmons
SEXUALITY Véronique Mottier
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE Stanley Wells
SHAKESPEARE’S COMEDIES Bart van Es
SHAKESPEARE’S SONNETS AND POEMS Jonathan F. S. Post
SHAKESPEARE’S TRAGEDIES Stanley Wells
GEORGE BERNARD SHAW Christopher Wixson
MARY SHELLEY Charlotte Gordon
THE SHORT STORY Andrew Kahn
SIKHISM Eleanor Nesbitt
SILENT FILM Donna Kornhaber
THE SILK ROAD James A. Millward
SLANG Jonathon Green
SLEEP Steven W. Lockley and Russell G. Foster
SMELL Matthew Cobb
ADAM SMITH Christopher J. Berry
SOCIAL AND CULTURAL ANTHROPOLOGY John Monaghan and Peter Just
SOCIAL PSYCHOLOGY Richard J. Crisp
SOCIAL WORK Sally Holland and Jonathan Scourfield
SOCIALISM Michael Newman
SOCIOLINGUISTICS John Edwards
SOCIOLOGY Steve Bruce
SOCRATES C. C. W. Taylor
SOFT MATTER Tom McLeish
SOUND Mike Goldsmith
SOUTHEAST ASIA James R. Rush
THE SOVIET UNION Stephen Lovell
THE SPANISH CIVIL WAR Helen Graham
SPANISH LITERATURE Jo Labanyi
THE SPARTANS Andrew Bayliss
SPINOZA Roger Scruton
SPIRITUALITY Philip Sheldrake
SPORT Mike Cronin
STARS Andrew King
STATISTICS David J. Hand
STEM CELLS Jonathan Slack
STOICISM Brad Inwood
STRUCTURAL ENGINEERING David Blockley
STUART BRITAIN John Morrill
THE SUN Philip Judge
SUPERCONDUCTIVITY Stephen Blundell
SUPERSTITION Stuart Vyse
SYMMETRY Ian Stewart
SYNAESTHESIA Julia Simner
SYNTHETIC BIOLOGY Jamie A. Davies
SYSTEMS BIOLOGY Eberhard O. Voit
TAXATION Stephen Smith
TEETH Peter S. Ungar
TELESCOPES Geoff Cottrell
TERRORISM Charles Townshend
THEATRE Marvin Carlson
THEOLOGY David F. Ford
THINKING AND REASONING Jonathan St B. T. Evans
THOUGHT Tim Bayne
TIBETAN BUDDHISM Matthew T. Kapstein
TIDES David George Bowers and Emyr Martyn Roberts
TIME Jenann Ismael
TOCQUEVILLE Harvey C. Mansfield
LEO TOLSTOY Liza Knapp
TOPOLOGY Richard Earl
TRAGEDY Adrian Poole
TRANSLATION Matthew Reynolds
THE TREATY OF VERSAILLES Michael S. Neiberg
TRIGONOMETRY Glen Van Brummelen
THE TROJAN WAR Eric H. Cline
TRUST Katherine Hawley
THE TUDORS John Guy
TWENTIETH‑CENTURY BRITAIN Kenneth O. Morgan
TYPOGRAPHY Paul Luna
THE UNITED NATIONS Jussi M. Hanhimäki
UNIVERSITIES AND COLLEGES David Palfreyman and Paul Temple
THE U.S. CIVIL WAR Louis P. Masur
THE U.S. CONGRESS Donald A. Ritchie
THE U.S. CONSTITUTION David J. Bodenhamer
THE U.S. SUPREME COURT Linda Greenhouse
UTILITARIANISM Katarzyna de Lazari-Radek and Peter Singer
UTOPIANISM Lyman Tower Sargent
VETERINARY SCIENCE James Yeates
THE VIKINGS Julian D. Richards
VIOLENCE Philip Dwyer
THE VIRGIN MARY Mary Joan Winn Leith
THE VIRTUES Craig A. Boyd and Kevin Timpe
VIRUSES Dorothy H. Crawford
VOLCANOES Michael J. Branney and Jan Zalasiewicz
VOLTAIRE Nicholas Cronk
WAR AND RELIGION Jolyon Mitchell and Joshua Rey
WAR AND TECHNOLOGY Alex Roland
WATER John Finney
WAVES Mike Goldsmith
WEATHER Storm Dunlop
THE WELFARE STATE David Garland
WITCHCRAFT Malcolm Gaskill
WITTGENSTEIN A. C. Grayling
WORK Stephen Fineman
WORLD MUSIC Philip Bohlman
THE WORLD TRADE ORGANIZATION Amrita Narlikar
WORLD WAR II Gerhard L. Weinberg
WRITING AND SCRIPT Andrew Robinson
ZIONISM Michael Stanislawski
ÉMILE ZOLA Brian Nelson

Available soon:
HANNAH ARENDT Dana Villa
BRITISH CINEMA Charles Barr
THE NOVEL Robert Eaglestone
NEGOTIATION Carrie Menkel-Meadow
GÖDEL’S THEOREM Adrian Moore

For more information visit our website

www.oup.com/vsi/
 Catherine Belsey

POSTSTRUCTURALISM
A Very Short Introduction
SECOND EDITION
 Great Clarendon Street, Oxford, OX2 6DP, United Kingdom
Oxford University Press is a department of the University of Oxford. It furthers the
University’s objective of excellence in research, scholarship, and education by publishing
worldwide. Oxford is a registered trade mark of Oxford University Press in the UK and in
certain other countries
© Catherine Belsey 2022
The moral rights of the author have been asserted
First edition published 2002
This edition published 2022
Impression: 1
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval
system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in
writing of Oxford University Press, or as expressly permitted by law, by licence or under
terms agreed with the appropriate reprographics rights organization. Enquiries concerning
reproduction outside the scope of the above should be sent to the Rights Department,
Oxford University Press, at the address above
You must not circulate this work in any other form and you must impose this same
condition on any acquirer
Published in the United States of America by Oxford University Press
198 Madison Avenue, New York, NY 10016, United States of America
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data
Data available
Library of Congress Control Number: 2022934362
ISBN 978–0–19–885996–3
ebook ISBN 978–0–19–260377–7
Printed in the UK by Ashford Colour Press Ltd, Gosport, Hampshire
Links to third party websites are provided by Oxford in good faith and for information only.
Oxford disclaims any responsibility for the materials contained in any third party website
referenced in this work.
Contents

Foreword by Neil Badmington

List of illustrations

1 Creatures of difference

2 Difference and culture

3 The differed subject

4 Difference or truth?

5 Difference in the world

6 Dissent

Glossary

References

Further reading

Index
Foreword

Catherine Belsey was making her final alterations to this second

edition of Poststructuralism: A Very Short Introduction in October
2020 when she suffered a stroke at home in Cambridge. She spent
the next few months in hospital before being moved to a hospice,
where she died on the morning of 14 February 2021.

Eighteen months earlier, Kate asked me out of the blue if I would

oversee her literary affairs following her death. I protested that an
immortal had no need of such an earthly arrangement, but she took
from my hands the copy of Tales of the Troubled Dead with which
she had just presented me. Retrieving a pen from her handbag, she
wrote a message inside the cover of the book: ‘For Neil, my literary
executor—for the record—from Kate.’ She assured me that she
would haunt me if I didn’t do my job properly.

For the record, I finalized the present text for publication at the
request of Kate’s family, using two sources: a file from Kate’s
computer and a typescript with handwritten annotations that was
found on her desk. ‘I know that I can no longer reach her’, writes
Joan Didion towards the end of Blue Nights, her memoir about the
death of her daughter. I knew—obviously, painfully, daily—that I
could no longer reach Kate while I was settling her sentences for
print, so I turned at times for advice to Julia Thomas, Irene Morra,
Laurence Totelin, Kim Gilchrist, and Becky Munford. Kate’s words can
now reach their readers in the form, I believe, that she desired. I
hope that she has no need to haunt me.

Neil Badmington,
Cardiff, July 2021
List of illustrations

1 Alice and Humpty Dumpty

Illustration by John Tenniel in Lewis Carroll’s Through the Looking Glass (Macmillan,
1940). Morphart Creation/Shutterstock

2 Linear A. Ancient Minoan script discovered by Sir Arthur Evans

From Scripta Minoa: The Written Documents of Minoan Crete. With Special Reference
to the Archives of Knossos Vol. 1, Oxford 1909

3 René Magritte, The Key to Dreams (1935)

© ADAGP, Paris and DACS, London 2021

4 Detail from Titian, Venus Blindfolding Cupid

Galleria Borghese, Rome

5 Jacques Derrida, Glas

© Jacques Derrida (University of Nebraska Press, 1986), trans. by John Leavey and
Richard Rand

6 Marcel Duchamp, Fountain

Tate Gallery, London. Ian Dagnall Computing/Alamy Stock Photo

7 Chappatte, Carbon Footprint

© Chappatte, The New York Times, <www.chappatte.com>

8 Pieter de Hooch, A Courtyard of a House in Delft

National Gallery, London. World History Archive/Alamy Stock Photo

9 M. C. Escher, Belvedere
The M. C. Escher Company. All M. C. Escher works © Cordon Art-Baarn-the
Netherlands. Used by permission. All rights reserved
Chapter 1
Creatures of difference

When Lewis Carroll’s Humpty Dumpty discusses the question of

meaning with Alice, which one of them is right?

In Through the Looking Glass Humpty Dumpty engages Alice in one

argument after another, just as if dialogue were a competition (see
Figure 1). Having demonstrated to his own satisfaction, if not Alice’s,
that unbirthday presents are to be preferred because people can
have them more often, he adds triumphantly, ‘There’s glory for you!’
1. Alice and Humpty Dumpty. Which of them is right?

Torn between the desire to placate him and good common sense,
Alice rejoins, ‘I don’t know what you mean by “glory”.’ So Humpty
Dumpty explains:

‘I meant “there’s a nice knock-down argument for you!”’

‘But “glory” doesn’t mean “a nice knock-down argument”,’ Alice objected.
‘When I use a word,’ Humpty Dumpty said in a rather scornful tone, ‘it
means just what I choose it to mean—neither more nor less.’
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
ground in a pouring rain, with the result that he caught a violent chill,
pneumonia supervened and carried him off within the week.
As soon as he was buried the daughter shook the dust of
Brinkstone off her feet; she had been profoundly unhappy ever since
the Larchesters had left.
“She was civil enough to all the folk around, but she had made no
friend in the place except Miss Lettice,” the old man explained. “So
we didn’t hear anything of her after she left any more than we did of
the other two. But I did hear from a theatrical gentleman who stayed
here for a few days a couple of years later, and with whom I used to
gossip a bit, as I’ve done with you, sir, that there was a Miss Alma
Buckley on the stage, and from the description he gave me of her I
should say it was the same. I heard from Mr. Larchester that she was
very fond of play-acting, but that the old man was a bit strict in his
notions, a regular attendant at church and all that sort of thing, and
he kept a pretty tight hand on her.”
Sellars pigeon-holed the name in his memory. This Alma Buckley
might be useful to him if he could get hold of her. On the stage,
according to Dobbs—well, she could not be a particularly well-known
actress, or he would have heard of her, as he was a great theatre-
goer. And besides, all this happened a great many years ago; it was
very unlikely she was still pursuing her theatrical career.
“Now tell me, Dobbs, after the Larchesters left, do you know if the
friendship was kept up at all—I mean, of course, in the way of
correspondence?”
Mr. Dobbs answered this question in the affirmative. Mrs.
Simpson, the then landlady, used to chat a little with Alma Buckley
when they met in the village, and he distinctly remembered being
told some three months after the Larchesters had left, that at one of
these meetings the girl had mentioned she had heard from her
friend, and that Mr. Larchester was going from bad to worse, and
that things were growing very hard for them, in a pecuniary sense.
Sellars went back to London and, of course, paid an early visit to
the detective. It had been arranged that he should not write during
his absence, but deliver his news in one budget on his return.
“Well, you’ve got some very important information,” said Lane
when the young man had finished. “Strange that I should have been
suspicious of that nephew story almost from the beginning. Now, it is
evident there is some mystery in which both Mrs. Morrice and Sir
George are concerned, which has led them to concoct this lying tale.
And this young Brookes, if he is not the relation it is pretended he is,
who and what the deuce is he?”
“That’s what we’ve got to find out,” said Sellars. “This Mrs. Morrice
is evidently a queer fish, and, of course, her pretended brother-in-law
is another. I suppose Morrice really knows very little about her; they
say he married her abroad, and, of course, she could fudge up any
tale, mixing up truth and fiction as she liked.”
“And yet Morrice must be a shrewd old bird, or he wouldn’t be
where he is,” observed the detective. “You would think before he
married a woman he would have made exhaustive inquiries about
her. Unless, of course, he does know certain facts, and winks at the
nephew business, thinking it doesn’t concern anybody but
themselves. But, of course, I incline to the belief he doesn’t know. He
has the highest reputation for integrity, and it is more than
improbable he would lend his countenance to such an imposture,
even if it were an innocent one, which I very much doubt.”
“So do I,” agreed Sellars. “Now as soon as I can I will get hold of
this Alma Buckley and see if she knows anything, and if so, if she will
impart it to me. But I am not very hopeful in that quarter. It’s a deuce
of a long time ago, and she may be out of business or dead.”
“If she’s dead, of course we are done. But as long as people are
alive we can generally get at them sooner or later,” said Lane with a
knowing smile.
“I quite agree, they can’t hide themselves for long if one is
sufficiently persevering. Well, now about this Clayton-Brookes. We
have established that he is as queer a fish as Mrs. Morrice; we want
to know a good bit about him, don’t we?”
 “What is the general report about him—I mean, of course,
amongst the circles in which he moves?”
Sellars paused a moment or two before he answered. He had
heard a good deal about the man, of course, but up to the present he
had not taken any particular interest in him.
“The general impression is that he is very well-off, not from his
property, because it is well-known that was so heavily encumbered
by his father that it would take more than a lifetime to redeem it. He
is supposed to have come into a fortune from a man named Clayton,
whose name he assumed, either out of compliment or because it
was a condition imposed.”
“Have you ever heard any details of this man Clayton, who was so
obliging as to leave him a fortune?”
Sellars shook his head. “None. You know how easily people
swallow a story when it is properly prepared and ladled out in a
circumstantial way. Clayton may be as much a myth as the nephew
for aught we know. You see how readily that has been accepted. You
would say, at first hand, that a man would be afraid to invent a
marriage in his own family; that there would be dozens of people
who knew Archibald Brookes had no wife, and would come forward
and say so.”
“He was helped in that case by the man having cut himself adrift
for so many years, that nobody was likely to know anything about
him. But now concerning this Clayton—if we could get to know who
the man was; there is such a place as Somerset House, there are
such things as wills there. We could soon get what we wanted.”
“I’ll try my old friend at White’s,” suggested Sellars, which in a few
days he did, but not with any brilliant results. All he could learn was
that the man Clayton was a very distant connection of the Brookes
family, that he had made his money in sheep-farming in Australia.
“Obviously he knows just what Clayton-Brookes thinks it is good
for him to know,” observed the young man when he reported to
Lane; “and he has been told in order that he may communicate his
knowledge to anybody who is a bit curious. We are done, I am
afraid, in that direction.”
“I agree,” was Lane’s rejoinder. “Well, the resources of civilization
are not yet exhausted, as was once remarked by a very famous
man. I must employ other methods. Now, of course, you don’t
happen to know the name of his bank?”
“No, I don’t, but I can get it like a shot. He deals with the same
bookmaker as I do, but in a much larger way. We are great pals, my
‘bookie’ and I; I’ve done him several good turns in the way of
information about people who want to open accounts with him. He’ll
tell me for the asking.”
That was the great utility of Sellars in such a complicated business
as that of Lane’s. If he could not give you the precise information you
required, his acquaintance was so varied, his ramifications were so
wide, that he could get it for you from somebody else in a very short
time.
Within a couple of hours the detective was informed that Sir
George Clayton-Brookes banked at the Pall Mall Branch of the
International Bank.
Mr. Lane reached for his hat. “I’ll just step down to my man and put
a little inquiry through as to the gentleman’s financial status.
Fortunately for me, the sub-manager is in charge just now, and like
you and your ‘bookie,’ we are great pals. He’ll do more for me than
the manager, who is a very orthodox person and a bit of an old
stick.”
The report came in double-quick time. The wealthy Sir George,
who betted high and gambled for big stakes according to general
rumour, was considered by the custodians of his money not to be
good enough for five hundred pounds.
“Another illusion shattered,” said the detective with a grim smile
when he next saw young Sellars. “This promises to be a very
interesting case. We are unearthing a few queer things, aren’t we?
The Clayton business is a myth, of course; there never was such a
person, or if there was, he never left a fortune to our friend. It is
admitted that his income from his estates is practically nil, and the
evidence of your very useful waiter confirms that. We also know that
he passes off a spurious nephew, for some sinister purpose
obviously. The man is a ‘wrong-un’ and lives by his wits, that is pretty
evident.”
Sellars could not help laughing. It was a bit comical to find that the
magnificent Sir George was not good enough for five hundred
pounds. Sellars’ bankers would have given him a reference for that
amount, and he lived by his wits too. But then it was in a respectable
way, and he did not invent spurious relations.
“I think we had better set about old Morrice himself next,” he said.
“What’s the odds on finding something fishy about him, in spite of his
high reputation?”
Lane smiled. “By gad, when you’ve been in this line as long as I
have, I’m hanged if you’ve got much belief left in anybody. It is
marvellous the queer things we do unearth, many of them of little
actual importance to the case, when we once start a long
investigation.”
“Well, what’s the next move on the board?” queried his colleague.
He began to feel great interest in the Morrice mystery; if it went on as
it had begun, there promised to be some surprising developments.
He was not so astonished about Sir George. He was not popular,
partly, perhaps, on account of the wildness of his youth, and Sellars
himself had been repelled by the man; he had always thought there
was something a little sinister about him.
But the discovery that Mrs. Morrice, that pleasant, gracious
woman who made such an admirable hostess in the big house in
Deanery Street, was a party to such an extraordinary fraud, had
fairly taken his breath away. He recalled the old waiter’s admiration
for her as a girl, of his pity for her lonely life, his disgust with her
soddened father. She must have changed very much from the girl
who lived in the little village of Brinkstone and ate her heart out in
these sordid surroundings.
 “I hardly quite know,” was Lane’s answer to the question put by his
young lieutenant. “I want thoroughly to digest all that very important
information you got for me, and make up my mind as to how we are
going to utilize it. But certainly one of the first steps is to discover
who this so-called Archie Brookes really is. It only wants two days to
Christmas; I’m not going to work on it any more till after the holidays.
Then you’ll try to get into touch, if possible, with this woman Alma
Buckley, who is a very strong link with Mrs. Morrice’s past.”
Lane was spending his Christmas in the bosom of his family.
Sellars, as became a young man of his position, was due at a smart
country house. They would meet in the New Year.
Richard Croxton passed the festive season with his kind old nurse.
Rosabelle kept up a smiling face that hid a very aching heart in
Switzerland. It was not a cheerful Christmas for any member of the
Morrice family; they missed greatly the familiar figure that had been
with them for years.
 CHAPTER X
THE SAFE IS ROBBED AGAIN

I N the New Year, Sellars, having spent a most enjoyable

Christmas, and fortified both in spirits and body by the season’s
jollity and good cheer, set to work to discover whether Miss Alma
Buckley was still in the land of the living, and if so, where she was to
be found.
It has been said that nobody knew better how to set about getting
information that he was in need of than this agreeable young man-
about-town, who had never been credited by his ordinary
acquaintances with ability beyond the average.
Amongst his various clubs was a very unpretentious and
Bohemian one called “The Strollers.” As its name implied, its
members were mainly recruited from the theatrical profession, but it
also admitted within its portals musicians, artists, journalists, authors,
and a few people who were great admirers of the arts but did not
practise any of them as a means of livelihood. If Miss Alma Buckley
was still in the profession, he would find somebody here who knew
her, or at any rate knew of her.
We know that, strictly speaking, his proper milieu was the
fashionable world, his proper place for relaxation a club like White’s
or Boodles’; but he was a young man of catholic tastes, and he was
also entitled to call himself a journalist, if his activities in that
profession were not very great. He was also very fond of people who
“did something,” whether in music or art or literature. Therefore “The
Strollers” suited him very well when he got a bit bored with exclusive
society, and the rather banal talk of fashionable and semi-
fashionable people.
The subscription was very moderate, the entrance fee equally
reasonable; he met there men who could talk well, a few quite
brilliantly. Once a week during certain seasons they held an
entertainment at which there was quite a respectable array of talent.
To this very delightful little place he repaired one evening in search
of information about Miss Alma Buckley.
He inquired of two theatrical members, not of the very highest rank
in their profession, but neither of these gentlemen had ever heard of
the lady in question. They suggested that she might probably be on
the provincial stage.
The third time, however, he was more lucky. He came across a
rather well-known music-hall artist, one Tom Codlin, who reddened
his nose and leaned decidedly to the vulgar side on the boards, but
who was a very quiet, decorous fellow off. He knew the name at
once.
“Alma Buckley, of course, known her since I first took up the
business; must be a good ten years older than I am, I should say,
makes up wonderfully, too. Saw her a few months ago in one of the
Stein shows, and I was surprised to see how well she wore. No
particular talent, no particular line, but generally gets an
engagement, even when cleverer people are out.”
“Has she ever been on the stage, the real stage, I mean?” asked
young Sellars. Mr. Codlin shook his head.
“Never. She started in the halls when quite a young girl and has
stuck there ever since.”
“Do you know if she’s playing now, and if so, where?”
Codlin had no idea; he had not seen her name for some time in
any of the bills. She might be in the provinces, she might have gone
for a tour abroad.
He thought a moment, and then added: “The best thing you can do
if you want to get hold of her is to go to her agent, ‘Mossy’
Samuelson, as we call him. I’ll scribble his address on my card; he
knows me well. That will get you the entrée at once, for he’s an
awfully busy chap, and if he doesn’t know you, will keep you waiting
for hours.”
 The next day found Sellars presenting his club friend’s card to a
small, sharp-looking boy in the rather dingy front room of a house in
a street off the Strand. A communicating door led to Mr. “Mossy”
Samuelson’s private sanctum, where he received his clients. A lot of
women, mostly young, but a few middle-aged, were waiting to see
the great man. Sellars thought that if all these people had to go in
before him he would have to wait for hours. He did not of course
know the ways of busy theatrical agents, that they do not see half
the people who are waiting for an audience, only come out and
dismiss most of them with a brief “Nothing for you to-day.”
“Tell him I won’t keep him a minute,” he whispered to the sharp-
looking boy, slipping half a crown into his rather grubby but
appreciative palm.
Mr. Codlin’s card had a magical effect. In less than a minute the
boy appeared in the opening of the doorway and beckoned him in. A
gentleman with a pronounced Hebraic aspect sat in solemn state at
a big table, wearing the shiniest tall hat that Sellars had ever seen on
a human head. He doffed this resplendent article when he observed
the young man remove his own.
“Good-morning, sir; good-morning. Sorry I can’t give you more
than a minute or two. I’ve got three contracts to draw before one
o’clock, and there’s half the music-hall profession waiting in the other
room to see me. If it hadn’t been for Mr. Codlin’s card, couldn’t have
given you a second.”
In view of Mr. Samuelson’s evident importance, Sellars adopted a
most respectful tone. “Very kind of you, sir, very kind indeed. I will
come to the point at once. You are the agent of Miss Alma Buckley, I
am told.”
“I am, sir; been her agent for the last twenty years. What can I do
for you?”
“I want to see the lady on some private and important business.
You could not, of course, give me her address?”
“We never give addresses of our clients; clean against the rules,
sir.” The little, keen, beady eyes looked at him inquiringly. The young
man belonged to White’s Club and looked what Mr. Samuelson
would describe in his own words, “a toff.” What could such a person
want with a middle-aged, undistinguished music-hall artist?
“I quite appreciate that, Mr. Samuelson. Would you be good
enough to forward a letter for me?”
“Very ’appy, sir,” replied the Hebraic gentleman affably. “But it’s no
good your sending it yet. Miss Buckley is returning from South Africa;
at this moment she’s on the ocean, and she’s not due in London for
another ten days. Send it then, and I will take care it reaches her.
Good-morning, sir; ’appy to have met you.”
He held out a podgy hand, and the interview terminated. It was a
bit of a check, this waiting for ten days, for Sellars was getting very
keen on the Morrice case. But there was no help for it, and it was
always on the cards that Miss Buckley might refuse to receive him,
or if she did, might decline to give information about her old friend.

Rosabelle returned to London with her uncle and aunt, very glad to
get home again. Under ordinary conditions she would have enjoyed
herself hugely at Mürren, for she was a thorough open-air girl, and
delighted in every form of sport. But the sight of other people’s gaiety
made her sad when she was so miserable herself. Mrs. Morrice, too,
seemed very unhappy and restless during what should have been
such a festive season. Rosabelle thought that Mrs. Morrice must
have been fonder of Richard than she had believed.
The first visit she paid, even before she went to see her lover, was
to the offices of Gideon Lane. This man, with his strong resolute
face, was her only hope; she had longed to be back in London so
that she might be near him; his propinquity to her gave her a sense
of comfort.
“I don’t want to make myself a nuisance, Mr. Lane, but I simply
could not keep away,” she explained by way of greeting. “You have
not been idle during our absence, I am sure. Are you any nearer to
discovering the true criminal? Have you found out anything at all?”
It was an awkward question for the detective to reply to. A very
great deal had been discovered during the time that had elapsed
between her departure for Mürren and her return to London; startling
facts at present known only to himself and Sellars.
If she had been a hard-headed practical man instead of an
emotional girl wrought up to a pitch of almost unendurable tension by
the serious plight of her lover, he might have been disposed to make
a clean breast of it. But for the moment he dared not trust her.
Guided by her feelings, she might act impulsively and spoil all his
plans.
“I will be frank with you, Miss Sheldon, as far as I can be, as I dare
be, at this juncture. Certain things have been discovered of
considerable importance. What they are, the precise nature of them,
even a hint, I dare not indulge in for the present, not until I know
much more.”
She knew the man well by now; it was useless to attempt to shake
his determination. When he had once made up his mind, it was like
beating against an open door.
“Will you at least tell me this, to ease my suspense,” she said at
length. “What you have discovered so far, does it tell against or in
favour of Mr. Croxton?”
There was a perceptible pause before he answered. Caution was
so ingrained in the man, his habit of carefully weighing every word,
his dread of expressing an opinion before he was fully justified, had
become so deeply rooted that he could hardly ever exhibit complete
frankness. Optimism was, of course, a mood unknown to him.
“If certain nebulous suspicions which are slowly forming in my
mind turn out to be correct, the result of my discoveries, so far, is
rather in favour of Mr. Croxton.”
That was all she could get out of him for the present, all she
would, in all probability, ever get out of him till he had fully and finally
solved the Morrice mystery. It was not great comfort, but it was better
than nothing.
The next day she went to Petersham, and received a warm
welcome from her lover, whose heart had been aching for her during
those weary days of separation. Small as were the crumbs of
comfort which Lane had given her, she made the most of them, and
heartened Dick considerably by her assurance that all would come
right in the end.
“There are things about the man that irritate me—just an impulsive
woman with more heart than head—his slowness, his caution, his
dislike to speak positively; but I do believe in him, in his capacity, his
ability. If the mystery is to be solved by human agency, I am
convinced he will solve it.”
The lovers had a fairly happy day, considering the depressing
circumstances. They took a long walk through busy Kingston, over
the Thames glistening in the winter sunshine, to Hampton Court,
where they had lunch at that best of old-fashioned hotels, the Mitre.
They got back to Petersham late in the afternoon, and Richard’s
kindly old nurse had a dainty tea ready for them. And too soon the
hour of parting came and her lover put her in a taxi and kissed her
fervently as they said good-bye.
“God bless you, my darling; need I tell you how I appreciate your
faith in me? But for your visits, and I count the hours till you come, I
think I should go mad. And yet I must not reckon on them. One day
your uncle will forbid them.”
The steadfast girl smiled bravely. “We will talk of that when the
time comes, my poor old boy.”
She returned his fond caress. “Remember, Dick, whether Lane
succeeds or fails, it will make no difference to me. We are
sweethearts now, and we are going to be sweethearts till the end.”
During her long absence startling events had happened in the big,
old-fashioned house in Deanery Street.
Gideon Lane had spent a busy morning away from his office. It
was three o’clock before he found time to snatch a hasty lunch.
When he got back it was close upon four. His clerk had an urgent
message for him.
“Mr. Morrice of Deanery Street has rung up three times during your
absence, sir. The last time he left word for you to go round as soon
as you came in. He said it was of the utmost importance.”
A taxi soon conveyed the detective to the financier’s house. He
found Morrice in his room in a great state of anger and excitement.
“Another robbery, Mr. Lane, this time a small one. A bundle of
Treasury notes and a quantity of Swiss bank-notes have been
abstracted, to the value of two hundred and eighty pounds. This time
I am determined to get to the bottom of it. If you are agreeable, you
shall act for me as well as for the other parties. You have no
objection to that, I suppose?”
Lane bowed. “None at all, sir. Whoever employs me does so with
the same object—to bring home the guilt to the right person.”
There were finger-marks on the safe as before. These were duly
photographed. They were identical with the previous ones, those of
the expert safe-breaker known as “Tubby” Thomas.
And “Tubby” Thomas, as they knew beyond the possibility of
doubt, was safely locked up in Dartmoor.
 CHAPTER XI
A RIFT IN THE CLOUDS

C OULD there be two men the whorls of whose fingers were the
same? Scotland Yard says impossible.
“I do not question that this is a very wonderful safe, Mr. Morrice,”
the detective remarked quietly to the financier in a subsequent
conversation, “but it is evidently not as invulnerable as you and the
makers thought it.”
“Once know the secret of its mechanism, and the rest is easy,”
retorted Morrice, a little nettled at this depreciatory reference to the
wonderful invention, to the perfecting of which he had contributed not
a little himself with his own ingenious suggestions.
He explained to Lane a few of its marvels. To begin with, it was the
only safe of its kind that had ever been manufactured. The
combinations of the times when it would open would run into
millions. Supposing you worked on tens, for instance, that is ten,
twenty, thirty, the days of the month, it would only open if both keys
were applied to the same keyhole!
The detective listened politely, but he was not very interested in
learning how the thing worked; his object was to find out if there was
anybody besides young Croxton and his employer who could have
become acquainted with the secret of its working.
“It seems to me that it is really a matter of exercising ordinary
common-sense,” observed the angry banker. “Two men alone know
the secret, myself and Richard Croxton, therefore either of us could
open it after having obtained surreptitiously a duplicate of the key
held by the other. Let us assume, for a moment that you, acting on
Croxton’s behalf, say that I was the thief, that from some sinister
motive I stole my own property. Well, you are perfectly entitled to that
opinion, as an opinion.”
 “I have not expressed it,” said the detective quietly.
“I know you haven’t,” snapped Morrice. He was in a very angry
mood to-day, and inclined to let his temper run away with him. “But I
also know that gentlemen of your profession cast your net wide
when you start, in the hope of catching some very unlikely fish. Of
course, I could have opened it and cast it upon Croxton, if I were so
disposed. But where is my motive for robbing myself? I can
understand certain circumstances which might induce a man to
commit such an act, and cleverly provide a scapegoat. Men set fire
to their own warehouses to get the insurance money. Why? Because
they are on the verge of bankruptcy and that money will save them.
A desperate man might steal his own money for similar reasons, to
place it beyond the reach of his creditors, so that he should not go
forth to the world a beggar. But these motives are absent in my own
case. I am more than solvent; I don’t wish to speak in any boasting
spirit, but I have more money than I know what to do with.”
Lane thought for such a practical man of the world, and
possessing, as he did, such a clear logical brain, he was indulging in
rather superfluous observations. Besides, he had referred to one
aspect of the situation as it affected himself—the absence of
financial embarrassment. If one chose to argue with him, one could
cite from the annals of crime instances of more than one other
motive that had impelled men to commit crimes which they artfully
fixed upon innocent persons, whom for some subtle reason they
wished to remove from their path, or on whom they desired revenge.
The next words, however, showed why the banker had
volunteered such an elaborate defence of himself.
“I am therefore eliminated, at any rate to my own satisfaction.” His
tone was still angry, as if he inwardly resented Lane’s rather
lukewarm attitude. “There is only left this young man whom I have
treated as a son, whom I have loaded with benefits, whom I have
preserved from the consequences of his criminal acts, his dastardly
ingratitude to me. He alone, beyond myself, knew the secret of this
safe’s mechanism, therefore he alone could open it, unless, which of
course is possible, he employed a confederate whom he took into
his confidence. Is that common-sense or not, Mr. Lane?” he
concluded in a slightly calmer tone.
“Perfectly common-sense so far as it carries us, Mr. Morrice,” was
the detective’s judicial reply.
“So far as it carries us,” cried Morrice with a slight return of his
previous explosive manner. “I do not understand you.”
Lane smiled. It was a slightly superior smile, prompted by the
thought that these clever business men, excellent and keen as they
were in their own pursuits, did not exhibit that logical mind which is
the great equipment of a trained investigator.
“By that expression I mean simply this, that when you definitely
assume Mr. Croxton’s guilt you are acting on the presumption that
nobody but you and he knows the secret of this mechanism. Can
you prove that?”
“Of course I can’t prove it in a way that might satisfy you, but I do
know that I have never told anybody else. There is of course the
maker,” he added sarcastically. “Perhaps you are including him in
your calculations.”
“I think I will consent readily to his elimination,” replied Lane in his
quiet, not unhumorous way. “Now, Mr. Morrice, we will discuss this
matter without heat. I am now employed by you as well as Mr.
Croxton, and I have only one object in view. But I must conduct my
investigation in my own way, and I want to go a little deeper than we
have yet gone.”
Morrice was impressed by the grave authoritative manner of the
man; he showed a strong touch of that quality which we notice in
eminent judges, successful barristers and all properly qualified
members of the legal profession, a patient pursuit of facts, a strongly
developed power of deduction from whatever facts are presented, a
keen faculty of analysis.
“Now, Mr. Morrice, I shall ask you a question or two for my own
enlightenment. From the little you have explained to me, the
mechanism of this safe is extremely complicated. Did you and Mr.
Croxton carry all the details of it in your heads, or had you some
written memorandum of its working to refer to in case of a temporary
lapse of memory?”
Morrice was quick enough immediately to see the drift of that
question, and his manner changed at once. “Thank you for that
suggestion, Mr. Lane; I fear I have shown a little impatience. For all
practical purposes, we did carry it in our heads, but I have in my
possession, as you surmise, a written key to which reference could
be made in the event of our requiring an elaborate combination.”
“And that key is still in your possession?”
“Yes. I keep it in the safe in my dressing-room. I looked this
morning, and it was there.”
The detective ruminated over this latest piece of information. While
he was doing so, Morrice spoke again, with just a little hesitation, as
if he knew that what he was going to say would cut the ground a little
from under his strongly expressed theory of Croxton’s guilt.
“You ought to know the whole truth, Mr. Lane, and you shall have it
for what it is worth. This present memorandum—I will speak of it by
that name—is one that I wrote out from memory. I had an original
one, perhaps just a trifle fuller, but I lost it, that is to say I could not
find it amongst my papers, some two years ago.”
Still clinging obstinately to his theory, he added a few comments
which, needless to say, did not make much impression on his
listener, who went into possibilities and probabilities perhaps just a
trifle too elaborately for the ordinary man.
“You know how easily papers get lost or mislaid. It is as likely as
not that the original memorandum will turn up in the last place I
should expect to find it. And if it got loose and was swept up by some
careless servant, it would get into the hands of the dustman. To the
ordinary person it would, of course, be quite unintelligible.”
To this Lane simply remarked that when a paper of importance
had disappeared it was quite impossible to prophesy into whose
hands it would fall. The dustman was a comforting theory, but it was
no part of his business to adopt comforting theories that did away
with the necessity to think. If “Tubby” Thomas had not been safely
locked up at Dartmoor for the last two years, he would have been
pretty certain that by some felonious means it had come into the
possession of that accomplished safe-breaker.
His position had changed since Mr. Morrice had summoned him to
Deanery Street on the occasion of the second burglary. He was now
representing the financier as well as Richard Croxton. In a way he
was glad, for Richard Croxton was poor according to Rosabelle, and
this promised to be an expensive investigation. To Morrice money
did not matter; he would not be stopped from ascertaining the truth
by lack of funds.
But in another way it was awkward. They had already found out
about Mrs. Morrice that, in conjunction with Sir George Clayton-
Brookes, the supposed wealthy baronet, she was passing off as her
nephew a young man who had no claim to the title. In course of time
Morrice would have to be acquainted with that suspicious fact, and
whatever degree of affection the banker felt for his wife, whether he
loved her very much or hardly at all, it would be a terrible blow to
him, either to his love or pride, or both.
Lane had a long talk with Sellars over the latest development of
the Morrice mystery. The young man strongly maintained that it
greatly strengthened the presumption of Croxton’s innocence, and
although the detective, with his usual habit of caution, did not take
quite such a decided view as his more impetuous lieutenant, he
readily admitted that it told in his favour, that any man possessing
the legal mind must concede as much.
“The more I can find out about him and his habits,” Sellars
remarked, “the more it seems unlikely, although not, of course,
impossible, that he should have done this thing. As far as I can learn,
he has been in love with Miss Sheldon for years, and his life has
simply been bound up with the Morrice family. They entertained very
largely, and he always showed up at their entertainments, was at
every dinner-party they gave, just like a son of the house. He seems
to have very few young men friends, but they are all of a most
respectable type. He doesn’t gamble, he doesn’t drink. Other women
don’t come into the case, for he is hardly ever a yard away from his
lady-love. Does he seem the kind of man to get himself into a hole
out of which he can only extricate himself by robbery?”
And Lane was forced to agree that if the good report of one’s
fellows could establish innocence, young Richard Croxton was
already satisfactorily whitewashed. But of course, in the opinion of
this eminent practitioner, all this was negative evidence, not positive.
Rosabelle, who was duly informed of the loss of the original
memorandum—for Lane was at bottom a very kind-hearted man and
thought he could give the harassed girl this crumb of comfort without
jeopardizing his future action—was very jubilant. She was also
pleased that her uncle had appointed the detective to prosecute his
investigations on his behalf. It would mean that Lane would not be
hampered for money.
She went over to Petersham the next day to tell her lover what had
happened, and succeeded in infecting him with her own hopeful
spirit.
“And is Mr. Morrice still as bitter against me as ever, does he still
believe as firmly in my guilt?”
Rosabelle was not very sure of the financier’s real thoughts, but
she gave the best answer she could.
“You know, my dear old Dick, how obstinately he clings to an idea
when he has once taken it into his head, but I fancy he is a bit
shaken.”
 CHAPTER XII
SIR GEORGE’S VALET

I N a back street behind the busy thoroughfare of Piccadilly there is

a small, quiet-looking public-house which is a great rendezvous for
male servants of a superior class. Thither in their leisure moments
repair chauffeurs, butlers, valets in good service, to take a moderate
amount of refreshment—such men seldom drink to excess—to chat
over the news of the day, and very frequently to comment to each
other on the characters and doings of their employers.
On the evening following the day on which Lane had held that long
conversation with Mr. Morrice recorded in the last chapter, two men
sat in a corner of the snug little bar, drinking whisky and soda and
talking together in confidential tones.
The one party to the conversation had “gentleman’s gentleman”
written all over his manner and appearance. The deferential voice,
the trick of lowering his eyes when he spoke, proclaimed the valet
who had served in good families. He had not the smug pomposity of
the butler nor the breezy open-air demeanour of the driver.
His companion was no other than our old friend the detective, who
did not, like his companion, exhibit any signs of his calling, as far as
appearance went; he might have been anything—respectable
bookmaker, prosperous commercial traveller, well-to-do shopkeeper,
whatever you pleased.
In the pursuit of his professional duties Lane penetrated into
several circles, outside the higher ones. These he left to Sellars
principally, although he had two other occasional assistants of the
same class, but less zealous and capable. His object in coming to
this quiet little place to-night was to extend his acquaintance, one
formed a few nights previously, with the man who was drinking now
at his expense, who rejoiced in the popular name of Simmons and
was valet to Sir George Clayton-Brookes.