How Radical was Rienzi? The Nineteenth-Century Representation of the Roman Revolutionary Republican in the British Cultural Imagination

2021 ◽  
pp. 55-74
Author(s):  
Rosemary Mitchell
2019 ◽  
pp. 249-297
Author(s):  
Arupjyoti Saikia

This chapter explains how the British officials learned about the intricacies of coexisting with water. Along with ecological impacts, human interventions too wrought changes that called for regulation and corrective measures. This state intervention began through a complex as well as difficult redesigning of the floodplain landscape. The utilitarian and cultural imagination of the Assamese peasants hardly distinguished the islands of the river from that of the vast stretches of sandy riverbanks. Both were inseparable. Nineteenth-century Assamese lexicons described both as chapori. A cartographic division of this riverine geography began to take shape in the legal and revenue parlance of the British officials in Assam. Familiar with the vocabulary of Bengal, the British officials began to make a distinction between the two; the islands came to be mentioned as chars while the river banks were described as chaporis. The chars were looked down upon as the unfortunate geographical extension of the chaporis.


Author(s):  
Sinéad Moynihan

The introduction maps out the key assertion of the book: that the Returned Yank surfaces repeatedly and most memorably when questions regarding ‘tradition’ and ‘modernity’ are particularly vexed. Emphasising the rhetorical significance of the figure of the returned migrant in debates about Irish economic recovery since 2008, the introduction surveys both the creative landscape inhabited by the Returned Yank since the late nineteenth century. Acknowledging that cultural representations of the figure long predate the stated parameters of the book (1952 to present), the introduction goes on to demonstrate to extent to which a series of socio-political, demographic, scholarly, cultural, business-oriented and touristic interests and efforts collided and intersected in Ireland of the 1950s, ensuring that the issues of migration and return – and, most especially, the figure of the Returned Yank – became imprinted on the public consciousness in ways not previously witnessed.


2020 ◽  
pp. 264-278
Author(s):  
Rohan McWilliam

Hotels were not new, but the later nineteenth century witnessed a major innovation which shaped the West End: the Grand Hotel. This was part of a global trend with hotels becoming ever larger; monumental landmarks in the urban scene. The chapter decodes the pleasures and significance of the hotel and explores why such elite institutions entered the cultural imagination. It looks in particular at the figures of Richard D’Oyly Carte who built the Ritz, and at César Ritz who then ran it. The hotel aimed to emulate the domestic and provide a home from home. Yet the atmosphere was really a transformation of the domestic. It also reflected the influence of American and Parisian hotels. The Strand and Trafalgar Square were characterized by a profusion of hotels, the product of London’s role as a world city. This chapter explores the domestic interior of the hotel and analyses its different functions


Author(s):  
Matthew Ingleby ◽  
Matthew P. M. Kerr

In the latter part of the eighteenth century and at the beginning of the nineteenth, the British cultural imagination turned to coasts. Prior to this period, coasts tended to be thought of as uninviting, even dangerous, places – ‘repulsive’, according to Alain Corbin.1 A compound of interlinked developments – in medicine, in aesthetics, in leisure, in law, in military strategy, for example – altered the prevailing mood, however, and during the long nineteenth century, the coast was visited more often, and by an increasingly diverse collection of people. This swell of interest in the littoral meant that coasts began to function as zones of cultural and commercial interchange. In part, this was because coasts became places of literal intermingling, where geologists and quack doctors, composers and painters, holidaymakers and recluses might meet intentionally or accidentally. Geological tourists followed Mary Anning to Lyme Regis in droves to purchase or discover for themselves sea-shells by the sea-shore. And towards the end of the nineteenth century, artists formed colonies at Pont-Aven, St Ives and elsewhere....


Sign in / Sign up

Export Citation Format

Share Document