After elaborating in detail the cremation of Percy Bysshe Shelley, which results in the emblematic retrieval of the poet’s unburnt heart, Edward Trelawny concludes his account by noting how he “followed the practice of the Hindoos in using a funeral pyre,”1 something he presumably learned during his travels in India. One of the central narratives in English High Romanticism, one that preserves for later generations literally and figuratively the heart of one of its major poets, is thus enabled by, indebted to, a non-Western, non-European cultural practice that speaks to a realm of action, thought, words, and images that has become one of the most promising horizons shaping what now goes by the disciplinary name of world literature.

This edited volume explores the development of international environmental law from the 1972 UN Conference on the Human Environment to the 2022 UN International Meeting Stockholm+50. In this introduction, after brief presentations of the outcomes of the two UN events, we provide comparative snapshots of international environmental law as of 1972 and 2022. Thus, building on the different contributions to this volume, the legal development during these 50 years is displayed with respect to general legal principles and North-South dimensions as well as the different issue areas of human rights, participatory rights, and the rule of law; the law on waste, chemicals, consumption and production; the law on the atmosphere, watercourses and the sea; and the law on nature and biodiversity. Through these brief yet composite pictures of the state of international environmental law, we sketch out some of the most decisive developments in the intervening years. Lastly, we venture a look at current trends and their potential significance for the future development of international environmental law – towards Stockholm+100.

This chapter focuses on the cultures of war victory in Czechoslovakia, Yugoslavia, and their successor states, a topic which illustrates global themes in the history and memory of war in the twentieth century and beyond. The First World War left a complex legacy of societal division, conflicting experiences, memories, continuities, and ruptures. This chapter shows how a complex legacy evolved in the twentieth century, and how it was reshaped by successive regimes and political orders to better fit shifting political interpretations of global history.

This chapter examines ideas of belonging, the self and identity through the prism of ethnic and religious categories. It explores the complexities of seventeenth-century Irish identities, especially surrounding changing confessional and national markers, together with evolving concepts of race, and how these could generate violence and conflict. It uses a number of case studies. One is the attempt to convert a large number of Protestants to Catholicism, and the violence surrounding it that showcases the knotty nature of religious and ethnic groups, as both those who refused and those who conformed were subject to bloodshed. Irish Protestants are also considered, as a group who straddled these two categories, with evidence that they were subjected to particular pressure to convert, as being ‘in keeping’ with their Irishness. Finally, the expulsion of the Irish from several Munster towns and cities in 1644 is addressed, with Lord Inchiquin’s status as an Irish Protestant of particular interest in his justification for the anti-Catholic and anti-Irish violence that was central to this episode.

National memory cultures, military doctrine, and until recently historiography have treated total war in Europe and violence in the colonized world as unrelated concepts. But these were intertwined phenomena that escalated as they did in part because of their mutual connections. From the nineteenth century, the mass death of indigenous people through conquest, expropriation, and disease lent credence to ideologies of racial struggle while new technologies of warfare were tested and honed against enemies of empire. After the First World War intensified resource extraction and labor exploitation in the colonies, colonial logics of race, population, and territory were essentially shared by the liberal and fascist powers. The Second World War dramatized the need for restraints on state violence but also raised new barriers to effectively imposing them in the colonies.

This chapter advocates using contributive justice as a form of social justice in work situations as a necessary complement to distributive justice. In addition, it is argued that contributive justice fits better with the capability approach (CA) than distributive justice does. Finally, it is argued that most people are prone to prosocial behaviour under the right circumstances. Sen’s concept of freedom (central to the CA) is very compatible with contributive justice. Kulkarni’s definition of social justice as ‘equal freedom of capabilities’ is adapted to ‘equal freedom of capabilities in contribution’. Contributive justice, in combination with the CA, might provide more opportunities for an inclusive and diversified (work) environment. Additionally, contributive justice is apt to identify and cope with people with malicious intentions.

This chapter examines the imbrication of late eighteenth- to early nineteenth-century discourses on race and class, and thus of the formations of colonialism and capitalism, both within and beyond England as center of global empire and capital.  It performs readings of this imbrication in John Clare’s protestations against land enclosure in Northamptonshire in the Romantic period, and it shows how this nexus in Clare anticipates Palestinian protestations against the dispossession of ancestral land since 1948. In doing so, it juxtaposes resonant moments in connected histories of modernity and modernization that inform the history of global capitalism, which still enacts in many ways the racial antagonisms in Marx’s theory of primitive accumulation.

In this chapter, we give the various properties and parameters of the Shrikhande graph; these have all been introduced earlier.

Vertices, edges, regularity The Shrikhande graph has 16 vertices and 48 edges. It is regular with degree 6. It is strongly regular: any two vertices have two common neighbours.

Symmetry The Shrikhande graph is vertex, edge and flag transitive. Its automorphism group is (Z4)2 : D12, of order 192, and has two orbits on non-edges.

Euler and Hamilton Since all vertices have even degree, the graph is Eulerian.

It is also Hamiltonian. Consider the description in Section 2.6. By using only four of the six types of edges given there

This chapter rearticulates its Romantic origins as a specificity of modern critical philology by turning to Friedrich Schlegel’s 1799 novel Lucinde and Schleiermacher’s 1800 reading thereof in Confidential Letters on Friedrich Schlegel’s Lucinde. It discerns in this pair of texts a founding scene of critical philology, in which the rules and criteria for interpretation are no longer assumed to be given in advance but are rather derived from the practice of the text in question. König distinguishes such philological practice in early Romanticism in Germany from later positivist philological practices in the nineteenth century. He traces the return and repetition of such critical hermeneutics in the work of late twentieth- to twenty-first-century philologists known for work on corpuses ranging from Greek tragedy to Paul Celan’s poetry to Sanskrit classics and their legacy in modern India, namely Peter Szondi, Jean Bollack, and Sheldon Pollock. He thus demonstrates the legacy of Romantic philology for the reading of world literature.

This introduction articulates Los Angeles: A Literary History’s interrogation of the literary and cultural representations of Los Angeles using the image of fire that recurs powerfully throughout both the city’s history and its literature. Docherty and López-Calvo acknowledge the mythologized image of LA as a place of ephemerality and reinvention – often perpetuated by the white male authors of the mid twentieth century who have often been centered in the LA canon. Simultaneously, though, they present this book as one that challenges an overfamiliar cultural narrative of LA (and the narrowness of the literary corpus upon which it subsists). The introduction argues that Los Angeles is not merely a site of rupture and creative destruction but also one of complex spatial, temporal, social, and ecological connections. Docherty and López-Calvo frame the volume in its entirety as a call for (and attempt to demonstrate) a broader, deeper, more diverse and more nuanced literary history of Los Angeles that attends to all the city’s complexities and contradictions. The introduction then goes on to offer brief summaries of each chapter in the volume.

This chapter examines early Southern California fiction, such as Helen Hunt Jackson’s Ramona (1884) and María Amparo Ruiz de Burton’s The Squatter and the Don (1885), exposing how historical nineteenth-century romance whitewashed a diverse transnational and multicultural territory. This chapter argues that by sugarcoating the realities of a violent and racialized colonial conquest, early Southern California fiction romanticized the region and its climate as a refuge where White settlers could improve their health. For Meylor, Ruiz de Burton also underscores the purported whiteness of her Californio characters to gain the empathy of her readers. By the 1920s, this chapter argues, literature had begun to depict LA as an Anglo city about to transition into a growing metropolis, but counter-narratives were already emerging, questioning the racial distortions of the booster economy.

This chapter immerses readers in the love–hate relationship Brussels diplomats have with digital technologies. We meet Daan, who thrives on WhatsApp and in-person networking but worries about leaks and information overload; Sabine, who uses two phones to separate work and private life yet still feels overwhelmed by constant connectivity; Jakub, who despises negotiating with devices in the room, fearing they disrupt trust and focus; and Lukas, drowning in his perpetually updating email inbox, struggling to maintain analytical depth. Through their experiences, the chapter reveals how digital tools – smartphones, emails, and social media – have become both indispensable and disruptive. While enabling rapid communication and public engagement, these technologies also fragment attention, blur professional and personal boundaries and threaten the confidentiality essential to diplomacy. The chapter probes the classic idea of the diplomat as an information-gatherer and mediator, asking what happens to diplomatic identity, intimacy and trust in an era of near-constant digital connection. Ultimately, it frames this tension as a defining paradox of modern EU diplomacy: the promise of efficiency and connectivity clashes with the reality of distraction, overload and the erosion of traditional diplomatic practices.

Religion had a privileged place in the culture of the British Army. This was reflected in Queen’s Regulations and (less formally) in the treatment of religious conscientious objectors, and even prospective clergy, in the era of National Service. Religion also played a notable part in the Army’s cherished regimental system, inflecting regimental identities and traditions and helping to shape the identities of relatively new creations such as The Parachute Regiment and the Corps of Royal Electrical and Mechanical Engineers. Sectarianism also had a role to play in the regimental tribalism of the British Army, especially in Scottish and Irish regiments. While the Army’s extensive network of churches and chapels advertised the continuing importance of religion in the institutional life of the Army, officer training at the Royal Military Academy Sandhurst inculcated its importance among the Army’s future leaders. In addition, the very public (but religiously inclusive) Christian faith of Elizabeth II fortified the role of religion in the Army, reinforcing its importance in an increasingly secular age and illustrating the historic (if now diluted) ascendancy of the Church of England.