This chapter reads the absence of representations of maritime punishment as meaningful in relation to a distinction between the violentiae theatrum, on the one hand, and a dramatic application of violence, on the other. The argument in the chapter is historically anchored, and it connects not only to the practical way in which order on ships had to be maintained but also to the praxis of seventeenth-century state formation and the role of subjects and subjection in that formation. The chapter reviews analysis of the issue of the legitimacy and acceptability of torture, which was a distinctly uneasy one in the context of the history of Christianity and its institutionalisation. As a re-presentation the painting is a remarkable celebration ordered by a conspirator who keeps boasting, with hindsight, about the success of his attempts to murder the political leaders of the country.

This chapter focuses on how certain kinds of images and stories were mobilised by communities, city administrators and marketers to form a totalising imaginary of 'city zones' such as Manchester's Gay Village. These images concealed the lived experiences of many and prevented an appreciation of the dangers and affective realities of such users of urban space. It is a tension drawn from the kind of Cartesian mapping critiqued by Doreen Massey who argues that space, rather than being composed solely of the physical plane, is best conceived of as relational in aspect. The chapter shows a story of the village produced in collaboration with Peter Dalton, a nineteen-year-old man who 'did business. The spoken negotiations involved in doing business often involved a measure of ambiguity between what was said and what was implied.

This chapter examines how Dreamfields' 'high expectations' are steeped in raced and classed norms that extirpate heterogeneity. Belief is cultivated through the use of repetition and morality tales that smooth over the various contradictions and ambiguities inherent in Dreamfields' approach. Culford's position as principal and archetypal masculine figurehead is paramount due to his dictatorial management style and his embodiment of the ethos. Culford symbolises Dreamfields' mission, embodying its mantra as a self-made, mixed-race man of modest working-class origins who has made it to the top. Dreamfields aligns its mission with the pursuit of equality, while simultaneously refuting the structuring importance of race and class on positioning. Dreamfields chose a traditional uniform aligning the student body with 'smart' middle-class professional bodies, signifying normality and announcing that Dreamfields students were just like other Goldport professionals heading to work.

This chapter outlines the general scope and aim of an investigation into Gothic sensibilities in the Renaissance period, situating the project with regard to historical contexts as well as existing scholarly discourses of early modern and of Gothic studies. What does it mean to postulate a Gothic Renaissance, to attribute a Gothic sensibility to both dramatic and non-dramatic texts written in early modern England? This introduction approaches the workings of Gothic sensibilities and proposes their existence avant la lettre, pointing out the English Renaissance period with its emerging emphasis on individual subjectivity and national identity as an apt starting point for a historically specific investigation into connections with the Gothic.

This chapter reviews the Adam Smith's statement, "Though our brother is on the rack, as long as we ourselves are at our ease, our senses will never inform us of what he suffers", to approach the difficult problem of the extent to which the perception of pain and suffering can indeed be shared. The contemporary demographic accounts of pain incidence and pain management may give a peculiarly modern twist to the familiar etymological observation that pain has long been connected to punishment in deep-rooted even if unquantifiable ways. The 'intensive theory' of pain, which first arose in the eighteenth century, has now been superseded by quite different ideas of pain perception. 'I feel your pain' has become a phrase used to mock the fake or inauthentic expression of pretended empathy.

This chapter provides an overview of the unfolding understanding of the psychological impact of the violence, with reference to key studies, research reviews and other key reports published between 1969 and 1999. One of the earliest studies to investigate the mental health impact of communal violence in Northern Ireland was reported upon shortly after the large-scale violence began. The study focused on three family doctor practices in west Belfast, one of the areas most affected by the early violence. The parties to the Belfast Agreement looked forward to the results of the work of the Northern Ireland Victims' Commission. In 1999, Lost Lives, a chronicle of the deaths associated with the Troubles in Northern Ireland, was published. The form and approach of studies that have investigated the mental health impact of the Troubles varies considerably.

This introduction presents an overview of the key concepts discussed in the subsequent chapters of this book. The book looks closely at the bitter dispute over intervention between two of European anarchism's most important figures, both marooned in British exile, Peter Kropotkin and Errico Malatesta, which split the global anarchist movement in 1914. It examines the politics of internationalism and anti-militarism in order to explain this division and consider how it contributed to the reshaping of post-war anarchist politics. The book shows how the combination of war and revolution brought well-honed anarchist conceptions of violence, state power and mutual aid into sharp relief, stimulating new approaches to resistance, transformation and social relationships that were shaped by anti-militarism. Antimilitarists were divided in their ethical responses to war. Some linked anti-militarism to pacifism while others, like Karl Liebknecht, called for the creation of a citizen army.