Greer Vanderbyl, John Albanese, and Hugo F. V. Cardoso
The sourcing of cadavers for North American skeletal reference collections occurred immediately after death and targeted the poor and marginalised. In Europe, collections sourced bodies that were buried and unclaimed after some time in cemeteries with no perpetual care mandate, and may have also targeted the underprivileged. The relationship between socio-economic status (SES) and abandonment was examined in a sample of unclaimed remains (603 adults and 98 children) collected from cemeteries in the city of Lisbon, Portugal, that were incorporated in a collection. Results demonstrate that low SES individuals are not more likely to be abandoned nor to be incorporated in the collection than higher SES individuals. Furthermore, historical data indicate that the poorest were not incorporated into the collection, because of burial practices. Although the accumulation of collections in North America was facilitated by structural violence that targeted the poor and marginalised, this phenomenon seems largely absent in the Lisbon collection.
On Sunday 16 March 1969, Nature and Youth Sweden
– Fältbiologerna [literally The Field Biologists] in Swedish –
held a nationwide demonstration against the expansion of hydroelectric power in northern
Sweden. The biggest gathering took place in central Stockholm, where a couple of hundred
people met in order to march from Östermalmstorg to Sergels Torg, a distance of
approximately 800 metres. Svenska Dagbladet described it as a
demonstration ‘of a somewhat unusual kind’, and Dagens Nyheter pointed
Defences advanced in early modern sodomy trials in Geneva
William G. Naphy
suggest a final sentence.
Once the Lieutenant was satisfied that there was no more information to be
gained, he would prepare a summary of the case for the city’s supreme magisterial council.5 The Senate would then draft an official sentence, which
would be read out in public. As these cases involved numerous interrogations
often spread over weeks, there is a substantial body of material. More importantly, the verbatim nature of the records allows one to watch the case developing and to hear the dialogue between the magistrates, seeking evidence of
guilt, and the
coincidence of nature without and nature within which I long
to remember.’30 Thirty-six years later, the Baroness de T’Serclaes sat
down to write her own memoir: ‘the past comes flooding in’, she
asserted; ‘half-forgotten memories – like the medals in their glass
case – seem to demand attention, a good dust, a new look at their
significance’.31 Perhaps the most telling part of her comment is her
reference to the ‘medals in their glass case’. In writing her memoir,
she appears to be engaged in a dual process: of both recreating the
past and constructing a narrative
some disability scholars have argued, how
were so many people with impairments able to work in a sector crucial to
Britain’s industrial economic development? And how far, if at all, did they, or
others, actually regard themselves as ‘disabled’ people?
This chapter addresses these questions by examining the nature of mine
work and the development of mining in the nineteenth century, paying
special attention to the factors that enabled injured workers to participate
in the working life of collieries and the extent to which they did so. To
understand perceptions and
the Church. Belief in an original Creator was part of the
deistic view held by some enlightened writers who thought that God
had not intervened in worldly affairs since Creation, so rendering
the Church’s claim to mediation between divinity and humanity
fraudulent. For such thinkers, evidence for God and a rational or
‘natural religion’ lay in the qualities (especially reason and conscience) of an unchanging human nature and the frame of nature
itself. The understanding that there was a deist movement (sometimes termed freethinking movement) of some size in Europe
This volume tells the story of the case study genre at a time when it became the genre par excellence for discussing human sexuality across the humanities and the life sciences. A History of the Case Study takes the reader on a transcontinental journey from the imperial world of fin-de-siècle Central Europe and the Austro-Hungarian Empire to the interwar metropolises of Weimar Germany, and to the United States of America in the post-war years. Foregrounding the figures of case study pioneers, and always alert to the radical implications of their engagement with the genre, the six chapters scrutinise the case writing practices of Sigmund Freud and his predecessor sexologist Richard von Krafft-Ebing; writers such as Leopold von Sacher-Masoch, Oskar Panizza and Alfred Döblin; Weimar intellectuals such as Erich Wulffen, and New York psychoanalyst Viola Bernard. There result important new insights into the continuing legacy of such writers, and into the agency increasingly claimed by the readerships that emerged with the development of modernity—from readers who self-identified as masochists, to conmen and female criminals. Where previous accounts of the case study have tended to consider the history of the genre from a single disciplinary perspective, this book is structured by the interdisciplinary approach most applicable to the ambivalent context of modernity. It focuses on key moments in the genre’s past, occasions when and where the conventions of the case study were contested as part of a more profound enquiry into the nature of the human subject.
The substantive and methodological contributions of professional historians to development policy debates was marginal, whether because of the dominance of economists or the inability of historians to contribute. There are broadly three ways in which history matters for development policy. These include insistence on the methodological principles of respect for context, process and difference; history is a resource of critical and reflective self-awareness about the nature of the discipline of development itself; and history brings a particular kind of perspective to development problems . After establishing the key issues, this book explores the broad theme of the institutional origins of economic development, focusing on the cases of nineteenth-century India and Africa. It demonstrates that scholarship on the origins of industrialisation in England in the late eighteenth century suggests a gestation reaching back to a period during which a series of social institutional innovations were pioneered and extended to most citizens of England. The book examines a paradox in China where an emphasis on human welfare characterized the rule of the eighteenth-century Qing dynasty, and has been demonstrated in modern-day China's emphasis on health and education. It provides a discussion on the history of the relationship between ideology and policy in public health, sanitation in India's modern history and the poor health of Native Americans. The book unpacks the origins of public education, with a focus on the emergency of mass literacy in Victorian England and excavates the processes by which colonial education was indigenized throughout South-East Asia.
The First World War was the first ‘total war’. Its industrial weaponry damaged millions of men, and drove whole armies underground into dangerously unhealthy trenches. Many were killed. Others suffered from massive, life-threatening injuries; wound infections such as gas gangrene and tetanus; exposure to extremes of temperature; emotional trauma; and systemic disease. Tens of thousands of women volunteered to serve as nurses to alleviate their suffering. Some were fully-trained professionals; others had minimal preparation, and served as volunteer-nurses. Their motivations were a combination of compassion, patriotism, professional pride and a desire for engagement in the ‘great enterprise’ of war. The war led to an outpouring of war-memoirs, produced mostly by soldier-writers whose works came to be seen as a ‘literary canon’ of war-writing. But nurses had offered immediate and long-term care, life-saving expertise, and comfort to the war’s wounded, and their experiences had given them a perspective on industrial warfare which was unique. Until recently, their contributions, both to the saving of lives and to our understanding of warfare have remained largely hidden from view. ‘Nurse Writers of the Great War’ examines these nurses’ memoirs and explores the insights they offer into the nature of nursing and the impact of warfare. The book combines close biographical research with textual analysis, in order to offer an understanding of both nurses’ wartime experiences and the ways in which their lives and backgrounds contributed to the style and content of their writing.
The study of witchcraft accusations in Europe during the period after the end of the witch trials is still in its infancy. Witches were scratched in England, swum in Germany, beaten in the Netherlands and shot in France. The continued widespread belief in witchcraft and magic in nineteenth- and twentieth-century France has received considerable academic attention. The book discusses the extent and nature of witchcraft accusations in the period and provides a general survey of the published work on the subject for an English audience. It explores the presence of magical elements in everyday life during the modern period in Spain. The book provides a general overview of vernacular magical beliefs and practices in Italy from the time of unification to the present, with particular attention to how these traditions have been studied. By functioning as mechanisms of social ethos and control, narratives of magical harm were assured a place at the very heart of rural Finnish social dynamics into the twentieth century. The book draws upon over 300 narratives recorded in rural Finland in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries that provide information concerning the social relations, tensions and strategies that framed sorcery and the counter-magic employed against it. It is concerned with a special form of witchcraft that is practised only amongst Hungarians living in Transylvania.