In 1979 the French economist Jean Fourastié, who had been a member of Jean Monnet’s ‘Commissariat au Plan’ and an expert both in the Organisation for European Economic Co-operation (OEEC) and in the European Coal and Steel Community (ECSC), published the volume Les Trente Glorieuses ou la révolution invisible de 1946 à 1975. The book analysed the development of the French economy after the Second World War until the aftermath of the oil shock which hit the Western world in late 1973, after the Yom Kippur War. When it was published, Western countries had already launched a number of initiatives to respond to the economic troubles caused by the oil shock. At the same time, they had begun to seek solutions to the monetary problems caused by the collapse of the Bretton Woods system in 1971, with the start of the Group of Seven meetings and the first attempts at monetary coordination among the European Economic Community (EEC) member countries.

The final chapter addresses Russian Romanticism’s complex literary geographies and ambiguous links to Western Europe, Poland, and Ukraine. the chapter focusses on the period from the 1820s to the 1840s when modern Russian literature was catching up for the first time with the latest developments in Western culture. A period of Russian nationalism, messianism, and imperial expansion, it was also one in which writers were expanding their lyric, dramatic, and narrative repertoire. Contrasting the imaginary border regions of the North and the South, the chapter first discusses Bestuzhev-Marlinsky’s ethnographic account of the Caucasus penned in exile, then looks at how various writers, starting with two founding poets, Zhukovsky and Batiushkov, registered, but sometimes also contested Russian state ideology. It then compares Baratynsky’s, Gogol’s, and Viazemskii’s imaginary representations of the North, before dwelling on Shevchenko’s poems on Ukraine, Mickiewicz’s on Poland, and Pushkin’s on the Caucus, marked by the poet’s sense of entrapment. As the literary market shifted from poetry to prose, late Romantic writers including Lermontov and Gogol experimented with new hybrid forms and styles, both contributing to the rise of a politically-inflected realist fiction which, like elsewhere in Europe, began to supersede Romanticism by mid-century.

This chapter offers a narrative and an analysis of the process of independence in Brazil between 1807 and 1831 from a general perspective, but with a still little-known focus: the influences this process received from Spanish America, which, during the same period, was also becoming independent. The narrative follows the flow of the most relevant political and social events in both realms, revealing how Spanish America as a whole and its many regions in particular were “read” in Brazil, and how the country created its political options, among other factors, from its continental neighborhood, then becoming independent from Portugal and starting its formation as a sovereign state and nation. Far from the traditional – and still current – idea of Brazil as an exception in the American context of the nineteenth century, the ways in which Brazil and Spanish America shared a scenario and historical unity are shown, which cannot be properly understood separately. In addition to that, the drawing of this common plot will be developed with a general description of the inverse movement, lesser known in the historiography, i.e., of how Brazilian independency impacted parts of Spanish America.

This second edition of The Cambridge Companion to F. Scott Fitzgerald offers both new and familiar readers an authoritative guide to the full scope of Fitzgerald’s literary legacy. Gathering the critical insights of leading Fitzgerald specialists, it includes newly commissioned essays on The Beautiful and Damned, The Great Gatsby, Tender Is the Night, Zelda Fitzgerald, Fitzgerald’s judgment of his peers, and Fitzgerald’s screenwriting and Hollywood years, alongside updated and revised versions of four of the best essays from the first edition on such topics as youth, maturity, and sexuality; the short stories and autobiographical essays; and Americans in Europe. It also includes an essay on Fitzgerald’s critical and cultural reputation in the first decades of the twenty-first century and an up-to-date bibliography of the best Fitzgerald scholarship and criticism for further reading.

This chapter engages with the under-explored knots of European memory politics both theoretically and empirically, linking theories of European Union (EU) integration with the study of collective memory at transnational, EU level. Collective memory is a deeply political phenomenon: it is politically embedded, reflecting political visions, and enacting social and political worlds. Traditionally studied in Sociology and History, Nationalism and Cultural Studies, the politics of manifold memory practices has more recently emerged as an object of academic interest for International Relations (IR), International Law, Peace and Conflict Studies, Political Theory, Comparative Politics and the transdisciplinary field of Memory Studies proper. However, only recently has the study of collective memory overcome the boundaries of methodological nationalism to question and analyse the impact the EU has had on nation-state memories, and vice versa.

The escape of the Portuguese royal family to Rio de Janeiro in 1807-8 proved a decisive step towards Brazilian political emancipation. The encounter of the Portuguese court and state with the wealthy slave elite residing in the capital of the colony was a turning point for all players. In the following thirteen years, the Portuguese court would define both the course of liberalism in Portugal and the political independence of Brazil, proclaimed soon after the return of the King of Portugal to Europe in 1821. The relationship between the court and Rio de Janeiro’s aristocracy, which financed the former, occurred through the strict observance of a social etiquette that was indifferent to the conditions of the new tropical setting. The history of both Portugal and independent Brazil throughout the nineteenth century was established there.

Solidarity has been consistently the cornerstone of prevailing narratives about the continent’s unification. From Schuman’s solidarité de fait (de facto solidarity) until today’s Commission President von der Leyen, who made solidarity the buzzword underpinning the measures taken by the European Union (EU) to tackle the ongoing Covid-19 pandemic, European elites have repeatedly legitimised further steps on the path of integration through the notion that centralisation was generating more prosperity for all instead of war, disunion and socio-economic stagnation. The idea that supranational institutions and policies were unilaterally vectors of pan-European solidarity has nevertheless proved contentious.1 This is especially true when considering solidarity in terms of social justice and welfare shared equally among all Europeans regardless of their country of origin.

Integration research has dealt with ‘founding fathers’ of the European Union (EU)1 as an ambiguous subject in order not to speak of ‘saints’ right away. Is that an appropriate term? If yes and this notion is taken seriously, who should be considered for it? In fact, there are different categories. This issue is about recognising, naming and valuing reference persons and personalities in the history of Europe’s unification, but is it really about ‘saints’? Further questions arise. How far back should we focus? Should we go back to the nineteenth century, or should we start after the First World War, or even after the Second World War? Is it about those who gave us the idea of Europe’s unification or about the founders of the communities?

Free people of color were major and perhaps inevitable actors during the age of the Atlantic revolutions. Based particularly on the French experience, this chapter seeks to illustrate, in all its varieties, the evolution of the aspirations (equality, civil rights, and suppression of color prejudice) and actions (conspiracies, revolts, and petitions) of free people of color of the Caribbean islands and the consequences for colonial institutions. It also attempts to show the links and the spread of these aspirations and actions between territories. It focuses in particular on the use of free people of color in the military sphere and its impact, the political role of the métissés elites of Saint-Domingue, the effects of the French Revolution and the policies of Victor Hugues in the Caribbean on the aspirations and actions of free people of color in the French, Spanish and English colonies, and the struggles for civic equality and abolition in the 19th century.

While much of the literature on nationalism focuses on the formation or construction of national identities and nation-states, the story does not end with the creation of a polity claiming to embody a nation’s identity. Conceptions of nationhood continue to be contested and to change over time within the framework of national sovereignty, even as the breadth and depth of popular attachment to, and identification with, the nation-state wax and wane under changing conditions. This is just as true of long-established nation-states as it is of recently formed ones. Terminological usage may obscure this, insofar as nationalism is commonly used to describe movements or efforts directed at gaining a people’s independence or asserting its purported rights to contested territory or resources. Loyalty to a long-established country is more often referred to as patriotism – and by virtue of being consigned to this category, has been subject to less thorough analytical scrutiny in the theoretical and comparative literature on nationalism.

The European Union’s (EU’s) space policy (EUSP) is one of the more interesting EU policy areas, even though it is one of the newer and lesser known ones. Officially, there is no EUSP, but rather a European Space Policy (ESP). Space became one of the EU’s competence areas in 2009, when the Treaty on the Functioning of the EU (TFEU), also known as the Lisbon Treaty, was ratified. Satellite navigation and positioning have security dimensions and it is odd, to say the least, that the EU owns Galileo, a Global Navigation Satellite System (GNSS) comparable to the better-known Global Positioning System (GPS) owned by the US government.

The section’s closing chapter discusses the polemic between Classics and Romantics, which, despite local differences and its lack of traction in Britain, helped crystallise Romanticism in many countries both as a national and as a pan-European cultural phenomenon. Beginning with contradictory statements by Stendhal and Goethe, it argues that the Classic-Romantic nexus not only contributed to the meaning of ‘romantic’ but also of ‘classic’. The first did not replace the other, but instead complexified it by re-appropriating texts from antiquity. The chapter first shows how eighteenth-century philology informed discussions of modern culture in critical texts by F. Schlegel and Schiller, and in A.W. Schlegel’s lectures. These in turn informed Staël’s influential statements in De l’Allemagne and in her letter on translation, which fired up Romanticism in Italy, as well as Stendhal’s ‘Racine et Shakespeare’, which did the same in France. The author touches on the ideological role of translation, but also of Romantic philology and of philhellenism, showing how the Romantics in Germany, France, Britain, Spain, Poland, and Russia re-appropriated the classics. The chapter concludes with a more detailed discussion of Hölderlin’s Hyperion to show Romanticism’s reluctance to differentiate the classic from the modern.

Marx’s thought on nationhood emerged from the cosmopolitan legacy of the “radical Enlightenment.” It took shape in the crucible of European nationalisms, the persistence of dynastic multinational empires, and the appearance of socialism as a new political actor.1 In 1848, the national question was deeply intermingled with the question of class. As a minority current of socialism, at least until the end of the nineteenth century, Marxism promoted a new form of political internationalism of which the most significant expression was the foundation of the International Workingmen’s Association in 1864. A constitutive tension quickly appeared between this cosmopolitan aspiration – well synthesized by The Communist Manifesto’s sentence: “the workers have no country”2 – and the growing tendency of the nascent socialist movements to inscribe themselves into national patterns made of inherited cultures, languages, traditions, and social practices.