In the beginning, Odomankoma created “Order, the Drum/Music, and the Executioner! According to Asante cosmology played on the Atumpan drum, humans are appointed to exist in an orderly world and society, guided by effective communication throughout their lives, and to eventually transition into ancestorshood through death. The pervasive influence of these three elements—Order, the Drum/Music, and the Executioner—on Asante life is undeniable, shaping their interactions with people and the environment, as well as their understanding of spirituality.

The subtitle “Odomankoma na ↄnwini kete!” in Twi language translates to “God assembled Kete dance-music.” I selected this chapter title because, as evident in this volume, Kete transcends the physical realm and serves as a bridge between Asante/Akan realities. It is carefully ordered to respond to sociocultural context with its unique movement, visual, and communicative systems. I am cautious not to overly spiritualize this aspect of Kete in my effort to position cultural reverence for this dance-music form. Most importantly, I aim to frame it as an epistemology deserving of more scientific explorations.

I am a Kete dancer, musician, teacher, and lifelong student. My journey and growth are intricately tied, especially to this dance form. Kete offered me my first encounter with self-reflection at a young age, providing a lens through which I could assess my life situations and redefine my focus. It played a crucial role in helping me navigate financial challenges during my primary and senior high school days, contributing to our household income. Even when I received support from my sister to continue my university education, dancing Kete allowed me to save money and supplement the financial assistance. As I pursued my first master's degree at the University of Ghana, Kete provided direction and motivation for my research and thesis. It served as the foundation for understanding movement structure, context, and the function of other cultures during my Choreomundus master's program in Europe. When I later gained admission to pursue a PhD in Dance Studies at Temple University, Kete continued to speak to me and drove me toward completion. Today, I share years of experience, practice, and research as a Kete student with the world.

Whitehead has referred to ‘basic insights or initial intuitions or feelings of mankind calling for explanations or justifications. Man's desire for immortality is one of these initial intuitions, or persistent dreams, or impulses’. If we begin with this fundamental impulse of the human spirit, the question is not disputing its ‘truth’ on this or that so-called scientific ground or explaining it away but how to express it. Believers and non-believers needn't dispute the matter by taking all or none position but may better have a dialogue regarding how far we have succeeded in defining or understanding it correctly.

Man Seeks Heaven

It needs just a moment's reflection to see that the issue of Heaven is neither an obsession of old schoolmen nor a subject for idle dreamers or escapists but concerns every man by virtue of being human. On it hinges the fate of people, believers and non-believers alike, as it involves the question of the meaning of life. If violence is a reaction to failure to find love/being loved and agitation of spirit that fails to find repose in the absence of the object it craves for by its very nature, the recent history of violence has much to do with the history of the decline of understanding of Heaven in modern consciousness.

One can transpose to Islam and arguably to all transcendence-centric traditions that posit our real home in the yonderland of Spirit, Kreeft's description of medieval Christendom: ‘it was the world beyond the world that made all the difference in the world to this world. The Heaven beyond the sun made the earth “under the sun” something more than “vanity of vanities.”’

Fourth-wave feminism and the #MeToo movement both interrogate toxic masculinity and its manifestations, and these themes are also prominent in crime fiction. Toxic masculinity is defined by Terry A. Kupers as “the constellation of socially regressive [masculine] traits that serve to foster domination, the devaluation of women, homophobia, and wanton violence.” Furthermore, Katherine M. Ingram et al. define toxic masculinity as “a form of traditional masculinity that becomes harmful to others.” Toxic masculinity is, then, an extreme manifestation of hegemonic masculinity which is constructed as dominant, aggressive, violent, non-empathetic, and misogynistic. My investigation of this theme in crime fiction extends these debates to examine representations of toxic masculinity and male violence in wider contexts, including against other men, a facet of toxic masculinity which is less frequently explored. While acknowledging the historical origins of the term “toxic masculinity” in the 1980s and the reservations some critics have articulated regarding the term as an analytical category, my book asserts the validity and importance of examining toxic masculinity as a concept and literary theme. In the crime texts studied in this chapter, toxic masculinity emerges as both the origin and effect of patriarchal genderbased violence and misogynoir. The crime texts analyzed here demonstrate that, just as rape culture upholds patriarchal society, so toxic masculinity serves as the other pillar upholding the symbolic and physical structure of white male supremacy. Caitlin Wahrer explains how toxic masculinity is typically represented in crime and suspense fiction, stating that: “[m]uch of the genre deals with stories of women who are victimized by men whose conduct has been encouraged by toxic masculinity.” My analysis further explores the intersections of toxic masculinity with race, class, and sexuality, demonstrating the complexity of the theme and its representation in crime fiction.

This chapter examines representations of toxic masculinity in crime fiction and how these representations have changed over time, analyzing the complex aspects of toxic masculinity that are belied by its stereotypical portrayal. Starting my investigation with a stereotypical portrayal of toxic masculinity in Agatha Christie's 1964 novel, A Caribbean Mystery, I consider this novel's representation of toxic masculinity as part of its serial killer plot, arguing that the novel illustrates an intrinsic function of toxic masculinity within the crime genre: namely driving psychological and physical violence against women and murder.

Exile, Modernity and the Countercultural Garden

As a conceptual metaphor, a garden of god is a natural medium of relationship between the human, the Divine and nature, and consequently, a space of collective coexistence, a political economy. Humanity has conceived of this medium in a variety of ways. Given the chapter of human history in which we find ourselves, that which defines itself as the Common Era (CE) to normalise the global history of colonialism, it is proper to start our consideration of this relational space with the image of the Abrahamic Kingdom of God. This kingdom is in fact a garden, but a patriarchal garden, owned by ‘the One’ who controls its space and lets it out to ‘its others’, creatures who must obey its laws of control. Such a dualistic garden is structured by the judgement of good and evil, in which the creatures can express evil and from which human creatures, by the exercise of a will to evil, that is, a will that defies the laws of control of the garden, can be and are exiled (Genesis 2:4–3:24).

The exile from the garden is a rupture of the unity between nature, the human and the Divine. As a result the human knows the ontology of separation. This exile pursues the Western world, leaving it restless and in need of a home in every homecoming, anxious for a messianic time of redemption (Genesis 49:10; Isaiah 11:1–9; Mark 8:29, 14:61–62). At the same time, the consequences of the exile accumulate eschatologically; it is a fleeing away from the garden while replicating increasingly distorted simulacra of the garden. Modernity may be seen as an intensified eschatological chapter in this long exile, an exacerbation of the discourse of guilt-stained ownership and mastery leading to colonialism, industrialism and the techno-consumerist globalisation of the Anthropocene.

Its sardonic garden is the concrete jungle, plastered over the dead remains of a poisoned earth, extending to the desolate sterilities of death. This extreme point of human exile replicates the patriarchy of the original garden in a substitute human form – the patriarchy of capital established in the artificial habitat of the wasteland and the concrete jungle. Yet, the greater the distance from the Kingdom of God, the greater the angst for the return.

In conclusion, this research explored the transmission of the Kete dance from the palace to the University of Ghana, examining it through the lenses of the Traditional and Academic dance categories. The study adopted an Afrocentric and phenomenological approach, emphasizing the agency of the Kete dancing body in shaping cultural ideals and philosophies within the Asante community. The research began by discussing Awuah's four categories of dance performance in Ghana, focusing on the Traditional and Academic categories for analysis. It highlighted the transition of Kete from the palace to the university, acknowledging the influence of the Ghana Dance Ensemble as a bridge between the Traditional and Academic categories. The research emphasized the need for a phenomenological standpoint to understand the role of these dance categories in the transmission of Kete. It demonstrated the efficacy of the black body in affirming cultural ideals and contributing to the propagation of Akan/Asante culture. The study highlighted the dynamic and evolving nature of indigenous dances, challenging static perceptions and advocating for a deeper exploration of the meanings generated through performance.

Through a phenomenological analysis, the research delved into the experiences of Kete performers, situating the holistic nature of performance mediums like music and dance within the intellectual framework of Asante culture. The Traditional and Academic categories were shown to influence the meanings generated in different contexts, emphasizing the importance of context-specific interpretations.

The research justified the potency of indigenous thought patterns manifested through performance gestures and underlined the significance of the African Genius concept in analyzing movement systems. It argued for the preservation of traditional structures in performance art to avoid distorting identity markers. The study also explored the Pan-Africanist paradigm, showcasing how Kete was employed in the development of a nationalist approach to governing independent Ghana. It advocated for an Afrocentric mode of inquiry, aligning with the researcher's focus and enabling a deeper exploration of indigenous perspectives.

Fourth-wave feminism and #MeToo have coincided with a rise in transgender representation in crime fiction. This development is mirrored by what Sally Campbell Galman calls “a surge of popular interest in the lives and experiences of transgender and gender diverse people.” Transgender representation in traditional crime fiction has often been stereotyped or negative; however, Heather Duerre Humann's book Gender-Bending Crime Fiction (2017) and Casey A. Cohran's 2024 chapter “Mystery and Detective Fiction as Trans Literature” forge a new direction in crime fiction criticism on transgender representation in the genre. My study extends this research, demonstrating how the crime genre is developing a vocabulary, reassessing its plots and characters, and expanding its narrative range in response to fourth-wave feminism, the #MeToo movement, and the need for trans representation. I also explore the historical discrimination trans people have faced and how crime fiction set in the past has depicted these issues, as well as investigate the barriers and stigma trans people still face as portrayed in crime fiction. Recent years’ debates have emphasized the importance of LGBTQ+ and trans inclusion in the #MeToo movement and fourth-wave feminism. This development is all the more pertinent in the context of negative portrayals of transgender in the media and by politicians, and gender-critical insistence on biologically defined identity. The purpose of this chapter, then, is to show how contemporary crime fiction offers progressive and complex representations of trans people, showing trans people and their allies to be on the side of justice. My book presents transgender in crime fiction as a separate chapter to avoid transgender crime fiction being subsumed under the larger category of LGBTQ+ literature, as Sabine Sharp also argues. She states that transgender writing has often been “overshadowed by gay and lesbian literature, a category already well established and well recognized in the classificatory systems of bookstores and degree programs.” This chapter investigates the politics of representing trans identity, starting with a canonical crime novel, which displays ambivalence in its portrayal of a trans woman which was indicative of a general cultural trend, namely Val McDermid's The Mermaids Singing (1995). To show how crime fiction in the age of #MeToo challenges stereotypes of transgender through the genre and instead produces empowering representations of trans identity, I investigate Alex Reeve's The House on Half Moon Street (2018), V. T. Davy's Black Art (2012), and Dharma Kelleher's TERF Wars (2021).

This book has examined the triangulation of contemporary crime fiction, the #MeToo movement, and fourth-wave feminism. The aim with the research presented here has been to demonstrate how the #MeToo movement and fourth-wave feminism are impacting on crime fiction, its idiom, and the politics of its representation of gender, sexuality, race, class, and intersectionality. This book thus devised and employed a methodology informed by key terms and concepts from fourth-wave feminism and the #MeToo movement, to show that all three parts of the triangulation are impacting on and changing one another. The individual chapters, with their distinctive focus and detailed textual analysis, have provided examinations of crime fiction's representation of key topics: #MeToo, rape culture, toxic masculinity, LGBTQ+, and transgender. However, while the individual chapters in this book explore specific themes or subjects, they have also highlighted the intrinsic interconnectedness of these themes and their representation in the crime genre. This interconnectedness, then, is reflected in the idea and practice of intersectionality which this book argues is central to crime fiction in the age of #MeToo.

Some critics have argued that we are now in a “post-#MeToo” era, suggesting that #MeToo was a moment in the past which societies have now moved beyond. However, current realities show that both fourth-wave feminism and the #MeToo movement are continuing to fight vital battles both against backlashes in reproductive rights and gendered and racialized violence as well as in the area of trans rights and homophobia. The conservative political climate in the UK, America, and Europe reminds us that feminist advances are under threat and that the #MeToo movement's work is as vital as ever. The overturning of Harvey Weinstein's conviction on a procedural issue is further evidence of the difficulty for women and other socially marginalized groups of obtaining justice through the legal system and from the police. As the #MeToo movement shows no sign of abating, and persistent subjects return to make renewed demands on intersectional feminist critics’ time—such as rape culture, reproductive rights, and the overturning of Roe v. Wade—it is clear that crime fiction has a crucial role to play in exposing inequalities and participating in public debates to call out injustice and promote change.

In this research, the data from fieldwork is categorized into four main groups: “Personal Experience,” “Revelatory Incident,” “Realization and Concept,” and “Performance and Propagation.” I employed a “Pheno-choreological” approach, combining “Pheno,” representing the phenomenology of experience, and “Choreology,” signifying the study of movement structure. This approach aligns with John Dewey's theoretical framework on the “social construction of knowledge,” as elucidated by John Okrah in his exploration of African Philosophy of Education (Okrah 2012). The argument posits that if a people's culture comprises nuanced elements specific to their self-identification and their interaction with the environment, then the collective knowledge facilitating such assimilation through individual experiences becomes integral to their social reality. Conducting a pheno-choreological analysis involves examining the implicit and explicit personal and collective experiences of musicians and dancers involved in Kete to generate interpretations consistent with their realization and concept of the dance form, as articulated by Bakka and Karoblis (2010).

The embodied realities mentioned above significantly shape the categorization systems of a community, impacting the creation of phenomena and their contextual understanding. When an individual assimilates social knowledge, such as Kete dance-music, they become an agent within a cultural network encompassing art, communication, and the generation of meaning through performance for subsequent generations. To interpret this interconnected data, I will utilize Kuwor's indigenous holistic approach to dances from Africa (Kuwor 2017).

In this chapter, I delve into the analysis of specific elements of Kete based on the data recorded during my fieldwork in Ghana. The data is categorized under the codes of “Personal History,” “Revelatory Incident,” “Realization and Concept,” and “Performance and Propagation.” These categories were derived from recurrent themes found in responses from my informants and discussions with experts during recording sessions. These themes are then situated within Kuwor's concept of “Ghanaian/African Holistic Nature.” This approach is justified by the phenomenological nature of the research, exploring the transmission of Kete dance in both palace/traditional and academic settings. I argue that understanding the transmission of dance-music in Ghanaian villages or rural communities requires an exploration of their total cultural makeup and the parameters that shape their way of life.

This chapter details an autoethnographic account of my embodiment in my father's palace and a suburb in Kumasi known as Fante New Town. These settings influenced my learning of Kete and the acquired realities as a royal turned commoner. I employ autoethnography toward “finding new ways to write about social life and, to better understand our society, and to promote self-reflective and critical research. Therefore, primary-bodily data are of utmost importance [and] autoethnographic research includes methodological implications and raises the question of situating the body about knowledge construction, “evidence and the evidence of knowledge.” I position my embodied recollections concerning the absorption and dissemination of Kete within various contexts of my identity—first as a royal, then as a “commoner,” entertainer, and artist-student-dancer. These corporeal memories are rooted in diverse experiences, encompassing my personal Kete dance training and performances during my childhood. These memories extend through significant phases, including the period before, during, and after my father's installation as a sub-chief in our rural town in Ghana known as Mpohor. They also encompass my active involvement with amateur groups, professional companies, and my time as a student at the University of Ghana's academy. This narrative delves into the intricacies of learning and practicing Kete in Kumasi, incorporating personal anecdotes. Furthermore, it sheds light on the circumstances that led to my transition from royalty to commoner, navigating the performance of identical variations under different identities and locations. This exploration aims to offer a foundation for understanding the dynamics of transmission and assimilation, highlighting the nuanced knowledge acquired within distinct social classes.

This autoethnographic narrative examines my assimilation of the Kete dance within the framework of three categories as outlined by Grit Koeltzsch: (i) self-observation and reflexivity, (ii) bodily perceptions and experiences across time and space, and (iii) past and present (Koeltzsch 2021).

Fieldwork in Ghana

The fieldwork for this research adopted a multisited approach to data collection, focusing on two regional capitals in Ghana: Kumasi, the capital of the Ashanti Region, where the Kete dance originates, and Accra, serving as the capital of the Greater Accra Region and the national capital of Ghana. In Kumasi, I engaged in data gathering, participant observation, and video recording among the master drummers and dancers at the Asante Monarch's palace, known as the Manhyia palace, as well as at other venues such as funerals and parties.

Prologue

The concept of paradise is found in all human societies. Paradise is a universal dream of every human being. Every human is born in this world with the concept of a beautiful world named paradise. It would be true to say that man is a paradise-seeking being.

Studies show that the concept of paradise has always been found in every society and every culture. In this respect, paradise is a universal word used in every language with minor differences. The word Firdaus in the Quran (18:107) is also an Arabicised form of the word ‘paradise’. The concept of paradise is so ingrained in human nature that one cannot be separated from the other. It appears that every person has already seen this beautiful world in their imagination and that now they want to realise this dream practically.

Models of Paradise

Because of this human desire, there are now several different models of paradise, and everyone is busy seeking the model of paradise they have visualised.

Among these models, the criterion that is used to ascertain the natural and understandable model of paradise is the same that is applied to such matters in science, that is, the principle of corroboration. This means that in order to validate a theory, it must be analysed with respect to all related observations and events. If the theory corroborates with all the related aspects, it can be held as valid. On the other hand, if even a single aspect or event is not in accordance, it must stand rejected.

Civilisational model

One such model can be termed a civilisational model of paradise. Thanks to the progress of civilisation, many new kinds of industrial and technological developments are now at man's disposal. It soon came to be regarded that there was no need to wait for another world; paradise could be created by man in this world itself.

Man believed that he was now in a position to build a paradise for himself. But soon, this dream was shattered. The end of the twentieth century showed that while the industry for building a paradise on Earth had reached its final stage, it brought a new kind of Hell into existence.

This chapter delves into the foundation of Ghanaian dance scholarship, emphasizing traditional and indigenous dances and their significance in the Indigenous Knowledge Systems of various communities. It explores postin-dependence dance categories and their progressive changes, drawing on Awuah's (2014) categorization to analyze their characteristics, dancing structures, rules, and aesthetics. The transmission of Kete in the Traditional category, with its move from Kumasi to the University of Ghana in 1963, reflects its unique role in community life. The chapter highlights the official decree from the Asantehene allowing Kete's use in the academy for academic and nationalist purposes, marking it as a distinctive knowledge system within the ensemble's repertoire. The approval and support from both the Asantehene and Dr. Nkrumah contribute to Kete's significance in the broader context of Ghanaian dance scholarship.

Traditional Dance-Musicking

Traditional dances in Ghana serve to navigate the communal lives of the people who engage in their performance. Traditional dances, crucial to community life, involve creators, custodians, and practitioners of artistic elements in dance-musicking across time. They embody an intellectual expression, revealing how individuals interpret their identity and relationships within indigenous Ghana. In the 1960s, Ghana pioneered the integration of professionalizing traditional music and dances into academic practice. This facilitated further exploration, connecting cultural forms with other state elements, shaping not just art but also influencing knowledge production and the conception of the African self. Understanding traditional music and dance requires exploring connections in movements, music, visual forms, multisensory modalities, audience engagement, and dancing events within Ghanaian/African traditions.

There should be a distinction between the dancing activity and the dancing event. One must understand that the dancing activity, herein referred to as the “realization,” is only made salient within the event it is perpetuated in. Hence, it is the dancing event that creates the contexts and validates the movement variations, music, and its historical antecedents. “A dancing event is a kind of an open or restricted occasion in a place and time, where and when dancing is in the focus.” In many indigenous communities, dance events are intricately linked to economic, religious, or political activities, using dance-musicking as a central element to convey meaning.

Indigenous dance music in Ghana serves peculiar roles in the lives of its practitioners from birth to death. This book explores the role of the Kete dance of the Asante people as an Afrocentric agency of meaning-making. As a dance-music form, Kete is one of the most popular dances in Ghana and a major cultural attraction in the diaspora. Apart from ethnomusicological explorations of its music, not much has been done about its movement element. I theorize Kete as an element of social construction that promotes and sustains cultural/indigenous knowledge through gestures. A performance of Kete in a specific context, such as a funeral, can serve as a lens through which indigenous gender disparities, sociocultural class structures, and embodied agencies for the propagation of indigenous knowledge are exposed. Utilizing a qualitative research methodology that encompasses first-person methods such as autoethnography, along with interviews and audiovisual analysis, I undertake an examination of my personal experience and understanding of Kete as a practitioner since childhood. Additionally, I explore the experiences of selected participants in both Ghana and the United States in providing context for future exploration. The book also serves an advocacy purpose by exclusively aligning with Afrocentricity, a unique feature not previously explored in Ghanaian dance literature. As a reflection of intelligent social structuring, where dancers communicate through gestures, I delve into the transition of Kete from the Manhyia Palace in Kumasi (Traditional Category) to the Ghana Dance Ensemble (Academic and then Professional Category) at the University of Ghana since 1963. Eric Awuah, “A Study of Amateur Groups’ Re-Interpretation of Traditional Dances in Ghana: Role on Continuity and Safeguarding” (NTNU, University of Clermont Ferrand, University of Szeged, University of Roehampton, 2014). I aim to explore the impact of neo-traditional structures on the continued proliferation of Kete today. Specifically, my focus is on investigating the agency of the Kete dancer centered within Kumasi and Accra, utilizing first-person methods to understand the structures influencing its proliferation and anticipated future developments. Asante Kete royal court dance music has its origins in the Asante/Akan ethnic group of Ghana, West Africa. The Akan people constitute the largest ethnic group in Ghana, primarily residing in the southern regions of the country.

When we survey the world's natural beauty and fecundity of species, we confront a range of soul-searching questions. As a core part of our human ‘management’ of planet Earth, our extractive economy devastates numerous ecosystems. What have we done with the beauty and vast diversity of natural species that share this Earth with us, and their ecosystems?

Most religious texts view the vast web of natural life on earth as, in a fundamental sense, the fruit of divine creation. If we believe in science and the evolution of earth's species as having followed laws of nature, we may well consider the conservation of these species as of no less fundamental value.

But are the Indigenous peoples who still live alongside the majority of terrestrial species, preserving ecosystems by not over-harvesting them, of any less value? Most Indigenous peoples promote a ritualised restraint in what they take from nature, and a self-image, at least, of protecting nature, which does seem fundamental to the value system of most indigenous cultures; even if it is also true that key species were exterminated by early hunters, such as the Moa (giant flightless birds) in New Zealand (Morell 2014); while in some regions, however, the ritualised restraint has been undermined in recent years by intense external pressures.

The ways of conserving nature practised by Indigenous peoples and conservationists often differ. By contrast, many professional scientists, economists and the financial or industrial entities and politicians promoting ‘extractive’ projects that these experts work on, seem to view nature primarily as a ‘resource’, and ‘development’ as a matter of exploiting natural resources with the greatest efficiency.

Dominating and over-exploiting nature is a shadow of Western civilisation. This history emerges from patterns of mass hunts, deforestation and mining inherited from ancient times. One example is the hunting of wildlife on a large scale during the Raj (as under Hindu and Mughal rulers). The latest manifestation of this hunting syndrome is the hunting mafias that continue killing tigers and other key species today.

Another aspect is how fundamental this view of nature-as-resource is to disciplines such as Economics and Engineering. Mining projects in particular, and the proliferation of big dams and coal projects, are at the heart of an immensely rapid assault on some of India's (and the world’s) best-surviving ecosystems.

Some years ago, I stood in front of Hieronymus Bosch's painting the Garden of Earthly Delights. It is a magnificent and haunting work filled with bizarre imaginings, forebodings and a magical sense of human vulnerability. As I stood there, I was transported into the world of Gardens – Gardens of desire; Mystical gardens; Secret gardens; Public gardens; Mythic gardens. All these gardens are to be found in this stimulating text. The garden is an analogue for humanity and its quest for order in a precarious world. Yet, it is also magical place in which God, with all his/her faces, walks with creation.

Reading these thoughtful chapters added another dimension to these reflections for me. They were autobiographical, reminding me of how important gardens, both real and imagined, have been in my life. These writings also reminded me of how many lines of thinking and doing taken in my own life are to be found in these pages. Innumerable resonances were evoked for me, such as in Ori Soltes's exploration of the mysterion in Jewish mysticism and his reading of the paintings of Samuel Bak's Pardes series. I had been unaware of these works but became totally entranced as I explored their visual imagery in relation to Soltes's own interpretation. Here I found myself referring to the work of Marc Chagall and his flying figures, and then jumping, via association, to the novels of Chaim Potok, built on the story of Asher Lev and his struggles within his Jewish tradition to find meaning and legitimacy. Then I doubled back to Bosch again, whose Garden speaks of longing and also our vulnerability.

Soltes's exploration of the Garden is followed by an intriguing meditation from Karl-Julius Reubke on spatial ordering and the way gardens and gardening are definitive of our humanity. Here, gardens, community and God meet in a rural German village where ‘forest, fields, gardens, houses reflects the world Adam and his kin first developed when they lost paradise’. This space, Reubke tells us, is from an earlier time, and it is time that Patrick Laude picks up on in his chapter exploring three different temporalities. Time and God meet in the Garden, which is a ‘divine space’ from which humanity emerges and grows into its own via a necessary fall. In this sense, we fell out of Paradise into the Garden with all its inherent complications.