This chapter explores the oscillations of political power and the “revolutions” – both violent and subtle – that appeared on the US stage throughout the nineteenth century. While many dramatists sought to avoid political debate, all too aware of the potential consequences (from boycotts to riots), timely issues of the day, including the abolition of slavery, the eradication of Indigenous populations, temperance, and women’s suffrage, inevitably made their way onto the stage. Some playwrights struck out boldly, naming issues of substance misuse and miscegenation in dramas such as The Drunkard or The Octoroon. Others infused politics into their depictions of everyday life, including Ossawattomie Brown (which retells John Brown’s history as a romantic family plot) and the labor melodrama Bertha, the Sewing Machine Girl. These homely narratives reminded viewers of how inescapable these issues had become. But whether starkly challenging or subtly questioning, nineteenth-century US theater never escaped the pressing political issues of the day.

The 1866 banking crisis effectively ended London’s iron shipbuilding industry. Few companies survived, so destitution faced many shipyard workers. Processing industries also changed. Beet sugar replaced cane, soft sugar hard ‘baked’ sugar and production became concentrated in two firms. In contrast, boosted by foreign grain imports, London’s milling industry expanded. South bank maritime communities maintained established industrial patterns. Shipbuilding proved resilient and traditional employment systems persisted in the Rotherhithe docks, but settlements of waterfront wharf labourers, many of Irish origin, were desperately poor. Poverty was also a hallmark of the north bank. Less socially mixed than in the past, mythic undifferentiated images of ‘Outcast London’ obscured the East End’s continuing maritime connections, including the presence of skilled workers and their organisations. Sailors ashore, the subject of State intervention, were an exception.

This chapter provides an overview of the early history of the Celtic languages. The first part offers a tour of Britain and Ireland, pausing at key points, both historical and geographical, from which we may consider the development of the Celtic languages. The second part of the chapter then goes on to examine a number of features of the Celtic languages in greater detail: the stress accent, lenition and mutations, the loss of final syllables, and the verbal system.

Across centuries and continents, the Irish essay has captured impressions and insights triggered by socio-political transformations across the island, and the form’s malleability has allowed writers to puzzle out the contours of Irish identity, often highlighting its deliberate performativity. Shaped by the culture’s oral tradition, the Irish essay frequently imbricates with storytelling, theatrical performance, and public lectures, live events that underscore its performative qualities. Writers often gear their impressions and inquiries self-consciously to audiences real and imagined, assuming the essay plays a meaningful role in public dialogue. In the twenty-first century, personal and lyric essays focused on rapidly changing perceptions of bodies and sexuality exemplify this trait. This alertness to performance and audiences helps to explain the Irish essay’s ready adaptation to new forms, technologies, and platforms in pursuit of readers, listeners, and viewers at home and abroad.

Despite being inundated with publications on the subject historians today feel less confident than ever that they truly understand the Reformation. The prevalence of national paradigms, such as ‘confessionalisation’ in German Reformation studies and ‘revisionism’ in English Reformation studies, encourages scholars to focus their attention on local circumstances and on specific individuals in those localities without due attention to the bigger picture. The sheer volume of case-studies being generated risks the loss of an overall perspective, and threatens to obscure the magnitude and significance of the Reformation as a European phenomenon of the first order. It is critically important to appreciate the continental scale of the Reformation because it reflected the scale and severity of the crisis of authority that beset the Catholic Church during the half-century or so following Fr Martin Luther’s announcement of the sola scriptura principle. That crisis cannot be explained by reference to local circumstances only. It went to the very heart of the institution, and it posed an existential threat to the Catholic Church. Reformation historians have yet to explain convincingly why Luther’s challenge resonated with such devastating effects across the continent. This collection of essays reflects the impact of the Reformation across Europe and offers explanations of its impact.

Lionel Johnson is more famous now for his life (and death) than his work – for his alcoholism and insomnia, conversion to Catholicism, erroneous claims to Irish heritage, and death by severe brain haemorrhage at the age of thirty-five. As a founding member of the Rhymers’ Club and contributor to the notorious Yellow Book, he is frequently referred to as a major figure of British Decadence, but his work is rarely considered in any detail. This chapter looks at Johnson’s criticism, poetry, and letters as expressive of a religious humanism heavily influenced by Pater’s sensuously continent aestheticism. No one was more excited by the world than Johnson, by the crowds of London as much as by the wonders of nature, and the continence he described was hardly a cloistered retreat. But sex was at the heart of what he saw as wrong in the modern world: its lack of respect for tradition; its bad manners; the haste that led people to look to their own uncultivated selves for a guide to right and wrong. Like Pater, Johnson portrayed continence as a sociable practice, leading to better relationships with people, objects, and the past.

George Moore spent a large portion of his career writing joyously and explicitly about sex. Sex meant everything to Moore, and he occasionally mused that it was a ‘fluid’ or ‘rhythm’ that connected and vitalized all things in the world. But at the end of his three-volume autobiography Hail and Farewell (1911–14) he not only declared the onset of age-related sexual impotence, but also claimed that it was this that was finally going to make him a great artist. His newly imposed continence was going to make him intellectually and artistically strong and would give him the authority and charisma of a prophet. He had said similar things elsewhere, and his descriptions of the dangers of excessive sexuality closely follow those of Victorian medical texts. This chapter teases out this line of thinking in Moore’s writing about art and artists, and particularly his connection of this potently continent art with Walter Pater. The chapter shows how different sexual ideas can exist side by side in the work of a single person or even a single text, and how productive continence can often be found in surprising places.

New technologies inevitably require new terminology. To refer to rudders, spectacles, telephones, and more, over the centuries Irish speakers borrowed words from other languages as well as repurposing native terms. In recent times, the challenge posed by loanwords has been political as much as linguistic, but, while we cannot know how people of the Middle Ages felt about the inflow of words from Norse or Norman French, technological vocabulary probably tells the history of contact between the Irish and other cultures more clearly than any other word-field. Within Irish itself, terms for inventions and innovations serve as fascinating case studies in language change and resilience: some medieval words for still-common devices have inexplicably fallen out of use; some early terms have been recorded again after long periods of silence; some words have manifested twice, hundreds of years apart. This chapter charts the emergence and development of a selection of technological terms in both medieval and modern Irish.

The Mexican–US War ends with the top half of Mexico – and its people – subsumed into the voracious US empire. A new musical genre – the Corrido – emerges from the new borderlands. The California Gold Rush produces a wealth of song from as far east as Scandinavia and as far west as China. US nativists sing against the arriving Germans and Irish Catholics, but they reserve their greatest musical venom for the Chinese in the form of the “John Chinaman” minstrel stereotype. Against such vicious representations, we have the Songs of Gold Mountain to reflect the true humanity of Chinese immigrants. In the wake of the Seneca Falls Convention, songs of women’s suffrage resound across the landscape, including those of Sojourner Truth. The Hutchinson Family Singers become the first US “supergroup” with their abolition songs, and Black challenges to the minstrelsy of E. P. Christy, Stephen Foster, and others continue, not only through the oratory of Frederick Douglass and songs of the Underground Railroad, but also through the operatic accomplishments of Elizabeth Taylor Greenfield.As the country careens toward the irrepressible schism of civil war, song becomes a highly supercharged, sectional arena.

The campaign songs of Abraham Lincoln help to carry a working-class hero into the White House, while no songs are sung about his background as a wealthy corporate lawyer. Lincoln’s love of opera is only one further dimension to the music of the Civil War era; the sides are drawn in the popular music of the Union and the Confederacy, while the songs of the newly emancipated Black soldiers herald the turn of the tide toward Union victory. The Irish contribution is also charted musically, as are such contentious subjects as the New York Draft Riots and the fate of the war’s prisoners and its disabled veterans. The hope of emancipated Black Americans in the wake of Sherman’s March through Georgia is sung to the skies, before the assassination of Lincoln paves the way for Andrew Johnson and the betrayal of Reconstruction.

Black Americans sing of their hope in the promise of Reconstruction, which is eventually betrayed as the white North and South sing their way into the “romance of reunion.” The Indigenous peoples to the west face a US government hostile to their songs and dances, Mexican vaqueros are immortalized in corridos, Chinese and Irish railroad workers are pitted against each other in minstrel songs, and the Fisk Jubilee Singers introduce the spiritual to the world (even as the Ku Klux Klan churns out its earliest sheet music). Woman suffragists and former abolitionists join hands in song; and as the country descends into the corrupt mire of a Gilded Age, Grange farmers take on the monopolies of railroad magnates and “robber barons” in songs that ring into the present century. In the Pennsylvania coal fields, the executed Molly Maguires are memorialized in powerful balladry, and the Knights of Labor provide the musical soundtrack to the greatest fight between labor and capital that the country has yet seen.

This chapter examines the significance of attitudinal research in understanding the dynamics of language contact situations in multilingual societies from a cross-disciplinary perspective. This chapter provides practical guidance for the study of language attitudes and ideologies in multilingual communities by discussing issues relating to research planning and design (e.g. identifying which languages are to be explored, whose language attitudes are to be examined in the community), as well as data analysis and interpretation (e.g. quantitative data collected through questionnaires or matched-guise techniques, or qualitative data through interviews or ethnographies). Other important considerations for attitudinal research in multilingual communities are also covered (e.g. the mismatch between positive attitudes towards a language or languages and language use, or links between language policies and language attitudes in language revitalisation projects). The main points made in the chapter are illustrated by means of two case studies. The first relates to language attitudes in multilingual classrooms and the second focuses on language attitudes and ideologies amongst new speakers of minority languages with a focus on Galician in the Autonomous Community of Galicia in north-western Spain.

The discussion of occult feminism in Chapter 5 shifts the foundations of Decadent Ecology to a reality beyond the veil. The last chapter of this study returns to the turf from which it began with my ruminations on Holywell Cemetery. Chapter 6 examines works by George Egerton, Arthur Machen, and William Sharp, each of whom introduces a different form of paganism to their earthy decadent ecologies. The authors find in paganism scalar distortions and other forms of eco-excess that problematize distinctions between the spiritual, secular, and scientific. At the same time, while all are, today, recognized as part of the urbane, fin-de-siècle culture of Wilde and Beardsley, each, in fact, turns to the local and the rural as the site of their decadent intimacies. We hear in their often conflicted renderings of the pagan landscape voices for sexual, eco-spiritual, and regionalist politics.

In this chapter we discuss not only languages of Europe but also those which are no longer entirely European, because they have spread to other parts of the world, like Canadian French and Chilean Spanish. We also mention one language which used to be European but no longer is, namely Arabic. And we also discuss European languages which are, sadly, no longer spoken, such as Prussian and Ubykh, and other languages which are severely endangered, such as Sorbian and Ladino.

This chapter considers language standardization from a minority language perspective. Processes and underlying principles of evaluative frameworks in minoritized languages are described from a historical and contemporary perspective. Trends in the standardization of minority languages are outlined, focusing on the case of the Irish language. It is contended that models of language excellence in many minority situations are being restructured. This is due to the opportunities for engagement with, and evaluation of, new forms of variation that have resulted from generations of language shift and revitalization. It is also due to the changing relationship between self and society in the context of Late Modernity, where social actors are increasingly agentive in deciding what is right and wrong for themselves. Using Irish as an illustrative example, it is shown that models of legitimate, authoritative and authentic language usage are constantly available for renegotiation, and perhaps especially in minority contexts. Results are described from two attitudinal projects with users of Irish, one with teenagers from the Irish-speaking communities of the Gaeltacht and the other with prospective ‘New Speaker’ teachers of Irish. Ultimately, the chapter speaks to shifting language evaluative dynamics in minority languages as communities adapt to their minoritized status within the fluid sociolinguistic arrangements that characterize Late Modernity.

This chapter focuses on New Speakers of minority languages and their alignment with traditionalist and modernist ideals of standardization, authority and legitimacy. First, the relevance of the New Speaker paradigm for minority languages is outlined and associated standardization processes are analysed, particularly in the cases of Breton and Irish. It is argued that while standardization initiatives in both languages were carried out with a view to modernization, the processes nonetheless took place within value-laden, traditionalist contexts. The subsequent discussion focuses on the manner in which the language practices of New Speakers of Breton and Irish have come to be associated with the standard written varieties of the languages and perceived, at times, as oralizations of written standards. This association is a fundamental feature of the language ideological landscapes of Breton and Irish and is at the heart of debates pertaining to target language varieties. In order to illustrate these tensions, the chapter shows how New Speakers of Breton and Irish can align their linguistic practices with traditionalist and modernist discourses by identifying either with a conservative dialect of either language or by not focusing on any particular established target variety in their practices or ideologies.

There is a pattern to how pregnancy is theatrically represented in Ireland: It is a taboo, a silence, an open secret. This is symptomatic of the Irish social and cultural stigmatization of women’s bodies and part of a larger discourse in which women’s bodies are carefully policed to be visible but inarticulate and assumed to be usable but unintelligible. This chapter considers new performances of pregnancy, maternity, and non-maternity on the Irish stage as a way of troubling the assumption that women’s bodies are invisible or inappropriate in contemporary theatre, in plays by ANU Productions, Bump & Grind, Stacey Gregg, Elaine Murphy, Frank McGuinness, Christian O’Reilly, and THEATREClub.

The book’s sixth chapter focuses on the convents’ role within the wider English and Catholic Mission. It considers the convents’ contact with other exile institutions from the western peripheries of Catholic Europe. This chapter asks whether the exile convents and colleges were concentrated only on their own survival or were male and female expressions of the Catholic Reformation bound by national interest? It is argued that the English convents were fully part of the English Catholic endeavour, the nuns overcoming traditional gender boundaries to act as committed partners in the exile enterprise; they were not isolated institutions defined by insularity. The final part of this chapter examines whether Catholic identity trumped national interests. It asks whether archipelagic Catholic identities were formed in the Catholic diaspora through the relationship of the English convents with the continental Irish and Scottish colleges. It is evident that national allegiances won out. In this, the English convents were not behaving any differently to the rest of Catholic Europe: this national approach to mission and Catholic renewal was part of Catholic Reformation methodology.