While many books have been written about British racism, far fewer have been written about resistance to British racism. This book uses resistance to policing, one of the main focal points for black struggles across the world, to investigate anti-racism in twenty-first-century Britain. The book focuses on grassroots movements, challenging racist state violence, and analysing the politics, tactics and issues that different currents of resistance face.
This chapter argues that, historically, black resistance to British policing did not just take place on the British mainland but, vitally, in Britain’s colonies. Drawing on the work of John La Rose and the Race Today Collective, it argues that Britain’s twentieth-century black political movement was connected to global movements against colonialism and imperialism. This praxis necessitated a commitment to resisting capitalism across national borders and among Britain’s racialised divides. The chapter closes with an assessment of the urban rebellions in the 1980s, arguing that the state sought to liberalise, professionalise and co-opt the black political movement, with partial success.
Michael C. Schoenfeldt offers final reflections on each of the twelve essays foregrounding the interrelationship between positive and negative emotions during the early modern period. In particular, he highlights the anachronism of the term emotion by emphasizing the idea of early modern passions as disturbances or perturbations that impact the body as well as the soul. Offering concise readings of Milton’s Abdiel who is unmoved among the faithless and George Herbert’s ‘Constancie,’ Schoenfeldt reminds readers of the pleasure often obtained through the control of emotional fluctuations.
In ‘All’s Well that Ends Well: Happiness, ambivalence, and story genre’, Patrick Colm Hogan investigates the narrative and generic workings of ambivalence in Shakespeare’s so-called ‘problem comedies’: works infamous for containing sequences of both comic mirth and complex psychological darkness. Drawing on the affective sciences, Hogan argues that the features of All’s Well That Ends Wellsuggest that our view of some emotions as purely positive may be overly optimistic, and that even feelings of attachment are not wholly or necessarily positive—hedonically, prudentially, or morally.
One of the main arguments of the book is that there was an increasing stress on individual psychological depth in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, both in the procedures of criminal justice and in the stories people told in the courts. This chapter looks in more detail at the words people used to talk about the self. In particular, the concept of ‘nature’ was of crucial importance. Three phases in talk about nature are distinguished: a first phase, in which ‘human nature’ was most negatively commented upon; a second phase, in which more attention was given to individual nature, and often in a more positive way; and a third phase, in which human nature was often positively commented upon, while individual nature was more often used to talk about negative characteristics. While the changes in the courts were less pronounced than in intellectual culture, this analysis shows how these intellectual currents had an impact in everyday life and how they affected the ways people could talk about the self.
Violence, masculinity, and the colonial project in Derricke’s Image of
A central project of colonial encounters is establishing and maintaining
clear boundaries between intrusive and indigenous populations. While
delineating boundaries is, in part, a means of securing a superior identity
for colonizers, these boundaries also attempt to mask the violence of
colonialism. This chapter uses animals as a point of entry into the
contradictions that creep into the imaginative space created by the text and
illustrations of John Derricke’s Image. It begins with a review of the
effort to create a clear boundary between English and Irish populations by
showing their different engagements with animals. But, implicit in this
animals-make-the-man strategy is the threat of disorder. Interacting with
the wrong species in the wrong way can make the man wrong. Illustrating the
violence of conquest blurs boundaries. In these moments, the metaphorical
associations with animals grow recalcitrant. Artfully constructed boundaries
give way to a violent and confusing muddle.
Derricke’s Image of Irelande and the Mirror for Magistrates
John Derricke, this chapter argues, employed the influential collection of
historical verse tragedies A Mirror for Magistrates (first published 1559)
as a model for various parts of his Image of Irelande. In doing so, however,
Derricke found himself forced to acknowledge and to seek to overturn the
often uncomfortable messages of that source. Thus, in the opening poem of
his collection, Derricke uses a selective celebratory presentation of
English monarchs to contest the view in the Mirror of English leaders as
often undeserving of rule. Similarly, while he adopts the form and meter of
the Mirror for his poems in the voice of Irish rebel Rory Oge O’More,
Derricke suppresses the complexity of rebellion’s treatment in the Mirror,
including the claims that political resistance is sometimes justified and
that erring English officers bring rebellion on themselves. The Image thus
reveals the anxious inspiration its author derived from A Mirror for
Aesthetico-political misprision in Derricke’s A Discoverie of
In Drama, Performance, and Polity in Pre-Cromwellian Ireland (2000), Alan
Fletcher offers the possibility of variant readings of a provocative section
of one of John Derricke’s more notorious woodcuts. Though Fletcher does not
expressly claim that the behavior of the two bare-bummed kerns in the lower
right corner of the third plate of Derricke’s Discoverie is designedly
flatulent rather than excremental, his exhaustive knowledge of the varied
ensemble of entertainments on offer in early modern Irish banquet settings
leads him to qualify the grosser form of negative ethnic stereotyping in
which Derricke may be engaging. In the process of rebalancing the bias of
uncivil defecators in favor of slightly more civil braigetori, this chapter
explores more broadly Derricke’s strategic acts of misrepresentation which
operate both on the level of idealization (of Sir Henry Sidney and his
fellow Englishmen) and of demonization (of the Irish): aesthetic
determinations that appeal to already ethnocentrically established English
values of religious and cultural superiority, on the one hand, while
promoting or intensifying the application of those values to the English
reader’s understanding of Ireland and the native Irish, on the other.
Through the analysis of James Shirley Hibberd’s The Book of the Aquarium, Chapter 3 explores the ornamental functions that Victorian tanks were meant to perform: on the one hand, the aquarium was conceptualised as a mirror of its owner, situating the hobby within a cluster of social, moral, and economic discourses that did much to foster the vogue, endowing it with further resonance and meaning; on the other hand, though, such density of expectations might have contributed to the demise of tank keeping. The second part of the chapter considers the beauty of marine creatures in the tank and the ways in which it was framed, both conceptually and stylistically, through an array of literary strategies, which included emphasis on detail, creative analogies, and the extensive use of poetic language and poetic quotations. Many of these features were common in popular science writing, but aquarium texts strove to adjust their approach to the specificities of tank keeping, while participating in wider debates about the appropriate way to discuss natural phenomena for a broad and non-specialist public.
Here the origins of the use of light in worship are traced back to the Mosaic books of the Old Testament. How the injunction to keep a light burning at all times was adopted into Christianity despite opposition. The gifts the Emperor Constantine made to churches for lights are discussed against the background of declining oil production in the later Roman period. Early evidence from Italy, Spain, England and France is discussed and comparative analysis of the spread of the lights is made. There is emphasis on the economic background and discussion of the emergence of localized production of olive oil, alongside a switch to wax as an acceptable substitute fuel for the lights.