This chapter focuses on Cicero’s treatment of the emotions in Books 3 and 4, and more specifically on his account of the dispute between the Stoics and the Peripatetics. At first sight, the dispute seems uncomplicated: the Stoics advocate the complete absence of emotions whereas the Peripatetics hold that emotions should rather be moderated or controlled. But Cicero’s stress on the idea that emotions are beliefs seems to come at the expense of other central parts of the theory of emotions, most prominently the theory of action.  I argue that these features of his presentation serve him in securing a thesis that he is keen to defend in Book 5: that virtue guarantees happiness and that this happiness is invulnerable to the accidents of fortune.

An introduction to the historical and philosophical context of Cicero’s Tusculan Disputations and an overview of some general questions to be investigated in the volume, particularly: the question of Cicero’s ‘Socratic method’, his use of dialogue, his claim to argue on both sides of a question, and the relationship between this and his Academic scepticism.

The poetics of language programme assumed that what makes a literary text distinct from an ordinary linguistic object is some inherent deviation at the formal and structural level. Behind this approach is the idea that there is a distinct language of literature. The fact that pre-existing stretches of ordinary language (‘found text’) may be quoted verbatim as poems presents a challenge to this view. Using a range of similar examples, this chapter invites the reader to step into a ‘gallery’, a space containing some of the philosophical puzzles encountered when trying to decide whether or not a certain object belongs in the category of art. It is the space Danto called the ‘gallery of indiscernibles’. Philosophy of art, literary theory and literary linguistics have treated these puzzles as problematic cases; this book treats them as highly illuminating examples which hold the key to the essence of literature and art. The chapter then challenges a series of assumptions that are implicit in most existing literary-linguistic, literary-theoretical and art-philosophical accounts and treats literature/art as a case of human agency, an action-process that brings literary texts and artworks into being, and has so far been left unlabelled and unaccounted for.

Our understanding of the stability in attachment during the first two decades of life is limited because i) ambiguity concerning the term ‘stability’ and ii) children have not been repeatedly followed up, leaving how attachment develops from childhood to adolescence uncharted. A birth cohort sample from Norway (n = 952) was examined with observational measures of attachment at ages 4, 6, 10, 12, 14, and 16 years to provide data on four aspects of stability: i) stability at the group level: avoidant and disorganized attachment decreased throughout development; ii) stability relative to the group increased with increasing age; secure attachment at ages 4 and 6 was weakly correlated with attachment in adolescence; other attachment strategies evinced no stability; iii) stability relative to oneself followed the above correlational pattern, but two latent classes both best described the individual trajectories of secure and ambivalent attachment; iv) stability of changes: changes in attachment styles from 4 to 6 did not forecast level or change in attachment in adolescence. Finally, I found little support for an early-formed prototype being responsible for stability. In sum, there was little continuity in attachment from childhood to adolescence, and the development in security and ambivalence might both follow two different trajectories.

Eoin Flannery, in his chapter, examines what happens when the revivalist promise of the future has curdled into something else, an inevitability of history rather than the positing power of the artist. It is one thing to accept a faded ideal as the motivating trope of a latter-day revivalist novel; it is quite another thing to turn away from ideals altogether and to accept, even to embrace, a world defined less by cultural aspirations than financial schemes, debt and “ecosickness.” The refusal to adopt traditional revivalist reference points and temporal frameworks leads writers as diverse as Kevin Berry, Anne Haverty, Éilís Ní Dhuibhne, and Mike McCormack to offer narratives that range from financial degradation to social collapse. One result of this refusal is the effort to foreground language, style, voice, and the vitality and exuberance of storytelling that is a hallmark of revivalist art, an advancing light into a potentially dark future.

When those in Antioch learned of the death of Antiochos (VII),1 the city not only went into public mourning, but every house was dejected and filled with lamentation. In particular, the wailing of the women inflamed their suffering. They had lost 300,000, including those other than the soldiers who had gone into the interior, and there was no household that was exempt from misfortune.2 Some lamented the loss of brothers, others of husbands, and still others of sons. Many girls and boys were orphaned and deplored their desolation, until time – the best physician for grief – released them from the peak of their suffering.

(1) Fighting about wealth produces contention in humanity and can create great misfortune for those desirous of it. It is the impetus toward unjust and illegal activities, produces all kinds of intemperate pleasures, and leads the foolish to thoughtless activities.1 Thus one can see that such people fall into great misfortune and become the cause of disasters to their cities.

All evils should be avoided by those who are sensible, but especially arrogance, since the expectation of profit invites many to injustice and becomes the cause of great evils to humanity.1 Thus it is the mother city2 of injustice, producing a great many misfortunes not only for private persons but for the greatest of kings.

Chapter 4 outlines a novel mentalistic, internalist or cognitivist theory of literature and art made possible by the breakthroughs of Chomsky’s ‘cognitive perspective’. It builds on the idea introduced in Chapter 3, that artworks and literary texts originate from the same minimal cognitive engineering, to support the view that the distinctness of literature and art stems from their cognitive rather than their formal or structural nature. What distinguishes works of literature and art from other entities is their cognitive history: artworks and literary texts are causally related to art-specific activities in the mind of a creator (artistic thought states/processes) and the distinct action-process that these activities bring about. This approach favours a rather strong construal of a poetics of mind to which I refer as a poetics of action. Artworks and literary texts can therefore be said to have a cognitive essence: they are the causal outputs of a distinct type of human action enabled by distinct cognitive engineering. Literature and art may then be seen as an exemplary case study for a cognitive metaphysics, in which cognitive essences may claim their place in a mind-ful world alongside other types of essence, such as structural, biological and chemical ones.

Humanity’s impact on the planet is undeniable. Fairly and effectively addressing environmental problems begins with understanding their causes and impacts. Is over-population the main driver of environmental degradation? Poverty? Capitalism? Poor governance? Imperialism? Patriarchy? Clearly these are not technical questions, but political ones.

Updated to cover new debates, data, and policy, and expanded to include chapters on colonialism, race and gender, and the impacts of energy and resource extraction, this book introduces students to diverse perspectives and helps them develop an informed understanding of why environmental problems occur.

How the international community should act is deeply contested. Guiding students through the potential responses, including multilateral diplomacy, transnational voluntary action, innovative financial mechanisms, problem displacement, consumer-focused campaigns, and resistance, this book explains the different forms of political action, their limitations and injustices.

Online resources include lecture slides, a test bank for instructors, updated weblinks to videos, and suggested readings for students.

Chapter 8 examines the instruments of the violin family in the cultural imagination, addressing why they captivated so many people, what associations became attached to both the instrument and the person who handled it, and the underlying social currents those associations suggest. Two main topics are treated: the veneration around the instruments of Stradivari and others from the Cremonese School and the concomitant idealization of old artisanal craftsmanship; and how contemporary writers and illustrators sought to understand the instruments’ allure for players, especially women. The discussion assesses the idealization of old instruments in the context of industrialized violin making and broader social anxieties about the modernizing world. Building on scholarship about the gendering and sexualization of stringed instruments, the chapter also considers depictions of people’s responses to them through the lens of sensory and sensual perception, arguing that the prevalence of such material reflects attempts to make sense of the violin family’s powerful hold on British society.

Chapter 4 considers routes that advanced string players took to prepare for entering the workplace, and the changing socioeconomic and gender constraints that shaped their options. It begins by unearthing informal modes of training and “ways in,” including private or family instruction and unpaid work experience in theater orchestras, and it ends with an examination of what British conservatoire education could offer those who could afford to attend such institutions. Both sections draw on testimonies of individuals. A middle section provides a close examination of diplomas that engages scholarly conversations about musicians’ quest for professionalization and the credibility of qualifications. College of Violinists’ diplomas emerge as reputable qualifications and the exams of choice for less affluent players who wanted to teach. The chapter argues that by increasing the supply of certified teachers and competent performers for both the professional and amateur scenes, conservatoire instruction and reputable diploma certification ensured the robust continuation of violin culture in Britain beyond 1930.

Question 1: Which of the following signs and symptoms is NOT characteristic of kleptomania?