The accusation of ‘thirteen wasted years’ was first levelled against the Conservatives by Labour in 1964 about the period in office since 1951. To gain perspective on the years 2010–24, we open with an acknowledged authority assessing progress in the last fourteen years compared to what was achieved then. Kellner’s chapter will aim to synthesise the charge made about the ‘thirteen wasted years’ (1951-64) narrative and build the foundations of the analytical approach for the rest of this book by considering what governments abroad, notably in Europe, were achieving at the same time.

As a socially and politically engaged composer, Leonard Bernstein created works for the stage that dramatize and explicate the changing status of women, gender relations, and heteronormative sexuality in the society around him. His Trouble in Tahiti (1951), for all its parodic hilarity, constitutes a powerful critique of bourgeois marriage under McCarthyism and establishes the garden as a recurring trope in his subsequent theatrical compositions. The woman-authored Wonderful Town (1953) turns a nostalgic eye on working women in 1930s Greenwich Village, and, elsewhere in Manhattan, West Side Story (1957) both advances the garden trope and gives us Anita, the wise and powerful Latina. In Trouble in Tahiti’s sequel, A Quiet Place (1983) the garden returns musically and textually to prompt a loving reconciliation between non-binary characters and the family patriarch, brokered by a woman.

As soon as newspapers, catering to England’s new urbane peoples, began describing common executions, the crowds attending them were seen as indifferent to their moral message. By the middle of the eighteenth century, execution rituals seemed equally problematic. Critics perceived hangings to be so frequent, so large-scale and so brutalizing to an even minimally refined sensibility as to defeat their deterrent purpose. In 1783, London officials sought to redress these problems by devising a new execution ritual, staged immediately outside the prison and courthouse. Within four decades, this quintessentially urban execution ritual had been adopted in almost all other English counties, even as cities on the continent pointedly moved executions outside urban centres. Yet still executions seemed ineffective. Following a particularly intense crisis in the 1780s, England’s traditional ruling elites sought to preserve the “Bloody Code” by reducing the scale of hangings to historically low levels.

Chapter 2 focuses on Augustine’s early consideration of the resurrection as the restoration of humanity to the pristine stability of paradise. In starting to describe the resurrection, Augustine begins to articulate the spiritual death and resurrection of the soul and the physical death and resurrection of the body. In this process, he begins to modify his previous notions of the soul’s immortality and the body’s dispensability. Emphasizing more a return to the original creation and less an advance to an eschatological transformation, Augustine reinforces his description of this repristination by articulating not only humanity’s spiritual change at the beginning of time, but also a version of millennialism at the end of time. At the center of these considerations, Augustine begins to explore the fleshly resurrection of Christ, who functions as the sacrament and example of our salvation. Augustine’s later clarifications of his early concept of Edenic repristination evince its limitations.

This chapter is concerned with the last period of Churchill’s premiership and leadership of the Conservative Party. It focusses not just on the last part of his ‘Indian summer’ when back in office but also on the tempestuous moves and motives of the Conservatives to compel his retirement in an age before party leadership elections. It also examines Churchill’s manoeuvres to frustrate these ambitions and continue in power. While many studies have examined how British politicians gain the leadership of political parties, there has been less analysis of their inevitable fall. The chapter is written primarily from the Conservative perspective since, until the 1965 Douglas-Home Rules which established leadership elections and procedures, so-called customary processes existed to enable, largely without public knowledge (and even beyond the engagement of many Conservative politicians themselves), the emergence, and removal, of leaders ‘for the good of the party’.

The challenges facing Chamberlain on becoming prime minister are put in a world context by examining Anglo-American and Anglo-Japanese relations, and contacts between President Roosevelt and Chamberlain. The focus then turns to Europe and Chamberlain’s double policy of appeasement and rearmament. The prime minister’s by-passing of the Foreign Office in his attempts to establish better relations with Italy and Germany, which eventually led to the resignation of the foreign secretary, Anthony Eden, is criticised. However, Churchill was hardly less optimistic than Chamberlain about what diplomacy might achieve. Belief that détente with Germany was possible implied long-term deterrence with expansion of the armed forces restricted to what would not destabilise the economy. A defence review led to a decision that the army should be prepared to fight in support of European allies only after the United Kingdom, its trade routes, and overseas territories and interests had been made secure. This decision, which was in line with Chamberlain’s ideas, has been much criticised by historians, but Churchill also gave priority to air defence and agreed that for the time being the strength of France’s defences meant the army was not a prime factor in Britain’s safety.

In “Nature in the Anthropocene,” Hiltner contends that we must reject nostalgic attempts to reconstruct a lost harmony with nature that never really existed, such as narratives of Eden and the Golden Age, in favor of a sustainable future-oriented version of nature. Nature in the Anthropocene, Hiltner argues, must be a nature we consciously craft using the tools of modern science and technology. Exploring the classical works of Hesiod and Ovid, as well as the Judeo/Christian/Muslim story of Eden, Hiltner foregrounds how nostalgic visions of harmony with nature still structure much of the environmentalist thinking of the present. Using early modern examples, Hiltner shows how humanity has long grappled with environmental problems of its own creation. The chapter ultimately turns to the example of Rachel Carson to illustrate a scientifically informed approach to forging a more livable and sustainable concept of nature.

Illustrates how weedless landscapes were imagined in the eighth and ninth centuries, examining their representation in manuscript illuminations of Genesis and in several Roman basilicas.

In this chapter, the author considers Lapsarian Theodicy, according to which the originating cause of natural evil, including the suffering of animals in nature, was a cosmic Fall set in motion when the first human disobeyed God. He argues that, besides being antiquated by Darwinian science, this traditional explanation of animal suffering fails on four analytical-theologicalgrounds. For it entails (1) an implausible original fragility of the created world, (2) extreme moral impropriety on God’s part, (3) an implausible account of motivation to do evil in paradisiacal circumstances,and (4) an overvaluing of human freedom. Furthermore, the author argues that Lapsarian Theodicy is not supported unambiguously by the story of Adam and Eve in Eden, as commonly assumed. He concludes that theists are best advised to search for non-lapsarian alternatives, as the majority of participants in the controversy are doing.

This chapter turns to the many poems in which Hughes plays with the characters of Adam, Eve and the Serpent, including an attempt to tease out Hughes’s sense of human moral accountability. We tour some of the most raucous of Hughes’s Edenic rewrites, including “Theology” and “A Horrible Religious Error,” demonstrating how Hughes continues to pursue an essentially religious agenda in the teeth of his gleeful anti-ecclesiasticism. The chapter turns then to morality, addressing a central paradox of Hughes’s work: he seems on the one hand to embrace Nietzsche’s anti-Christian moral nihilism, but on the other hand he argues passionately on behalf of our moral obligations toward nature. The problematic biblical term “dominion” is discussed. Many of the moral inconsistencies presented in this chapter are seen to smooth out in Hughes’s farming poems, in which Mosaic moral duty and ecological responsibility unite within a lapsarian view of human existence.