For many visitors to China, airports may be where Chinese signs are first seen. This chapter will sample some signs that are commonly seen at airports, including those for customs, terminals, departure lounges, boarding gates, baggage claims, and transportation options. Most of the airport signs are bilingual with English translations. Most of the signs in this chapter are seen at the Pudong International Airport in Shanghai.

Chapter four examines the Muses, the sole female divinities who are regularly depicted as musicians in the surviving visual material. The ambiguity inherent to their representation, where it is never clear whether they are goddesses or human women, allows for their bodies to become visual forms capable of taking on multiple identities. Laferrière considers the images within their original contexts, including the domestic sphere, the cemetery, the sanctuary, and the symposium, to examine how the images invited their viewers to imagine the sounds of divine music and what effect this visualized music had upon the viewing audience. In each instance, she argues that the depictions of the Muses respond to the spaces in which they are encountered, so that their visual interpretation becomes inherently multivalent and malleable. When representations of the Muses are considered within a range of possible contexts of use, the vases make a powerful statement about the Muses: not only may they appear in any context or work through any female figure, but as divinities who are flexible in their visual representation, the Muses become visual forms capable of taking on multiple identities.

The chapter examines the relevance of (international) human rights law for international arbitration. It advances the proposition that (international) human rights law is part of the fabric of international arbitration. Hence the chapter sets out firstly thehuman rights norms and human rights methodology as far it is relevant in the international arbitration context. It then discusses human rights as the means to justify the existence of international arbitration. In its main part, the chapter considers the relevant human rights norms in commercial and investment arbitration and discusses the application of international human rights law in the commercial and investment arbitration context.

Paradise Regained, which opens with an “eremite” (I.10) and ends at home, examines different recurring response to the conditions of modernity: how some people attempt a retreat from the world. By expanding on the Temptation of Jesus (the Son of God in Paradise Regained) by Satan, a set of stories told in the Gospels of Matthew (4:1-11), Mark (1:12-13), and Luke (4:1-13), Milton’s Paradise Regained revises the Temptation in the Desert, casting the world as a series of temptations to be avoided, just four years after Paradise Lost narrates giving into temptation as a felix culpa. To generations of readers, “retreat” comes freighted with political or military connotations that can unfortunately lead the contextual scholar back to the Restoration, i.e., with Milton in retreat from the Stuart monarchy. Paradise Regained proposes a spiritual domestic retreat, and one in which the particular government is irrelevant.

Supporters of ISDS often justify the continued existence of ISDS on the basis that disputes are denationalized, thus keeping foreign investors out of domestic courts which may lack independence, be less efficient, or are biased against foreigners. This justification, unwittingly perhaps, strengthens a perception that foreign investors proceed directly to the international sphere. However, this chapter finds that many investors do avail themselves of domestic courts prior to an ISDS case and asks why this is the case. Looking at two states with transitional judiciaries and two states with well-functioning judiciaries, the author uncovers a rich data on the impressive scope of claims brought by foreign investors in the host states where they are investing; and Gáspár-Szilágyi concludes with some reflections on the role of domestic litigation in the legitimation of ISDS. (This abstract needs development)

There is a critique that investment arbitration undermines or hampers the development of national legal institutions. By providing a forum for foreign investors separate and distinct from local courts, critics argue, ISDS removes any incentive for foreign investors to promote the development of local legal institutions. This chapter sets out an account of how investment arbitration might affect development of local legal institutions, in particular international commercial arbitration and, perhaps, domestic arbitration. The authors find that while both the number of investment agreements and investment arbitration proceedings to which a state is a party is negatively related to the rule of law in the state, the presence of an indicator for support for international commercial arbitration – adoption of the UNCITRAL Model Law on International Commercial Arbitration – essentially offsets that negative relationship.

This chapter seeks to review the current definitions, laws, thinking and theorising around intimate partner violence, from a UK perspective. The breadth of the behaviours included within this type of offending and the importance and centrality of control within many definitions is highlighted. Differences between 2 key approaches to intimate partner violence or domestic abuse are explored an and the tension between traditional psychological/individually focused approaches and feminist/explanation at a societal/structural level are identified. Heterogeneity across perpetrators and the range of typologies that have been developed to address these differences are described and critiques and issues linked to male victims and female perpetrators and IPV within same sex couples if briefly reviewed.Links between substance use and IPV are considered and a range of models, including the multiple thresholds model, are reviewed. The need for integrated theories is considered. General risk factors for IPV are described and individual risk markers for some perpetrators of IPV are identified.Current commonly used risk assessment tools are described and targets for intervention are briefly explored.

Hamilton Carroll considers shifting trends across nearly two decades of post-9/11 novels from early works grappling with the unrepresentability of terror to recent narratives by Susan Choi, Mohsin Hamid, Joseph O’Neill, and Jess Walter that depict the everyday experiences of racialized precarity in a period of perpetual warfare, nuclear proliferation, migration catastrophes, and neo-ethnonationalisms. Political turmoil and violence by state and non-state entities remain central to twenty-first century life, even as the events of September 11, 2001, have shifted from recent trauma to historical retrospection.

This essay develops a conceptual frame for the analysis of peace under a comparative area perspective.I discussthe main concepts (peace, violence, conflict) and assess them in relation to four main theoretical schools (realism, liberalism, cosmopolitanism, critical), demonstrating in the process how a global approach to peace resolves many of the difficulties these theoretical schools encounter by placing specific emphasis on the need to focus a lens on both international and national dynamics across cases. I also address the problem of reliable comparable date and suggest that a comparative area studies approach may be preferable as a means to measure the potential for and progress toward peace.I provide evidence for the added value of such a perspective based on an analysis of peace in Latin America. The concluding section discusses the necessity of a hybrid outlook on peace, which requires sustained action on the part of international and local actors toward reducing conditions of structural violence, and it formulates some avenues for future research.

In this essay, I argue that liberal concepts provide a strong basis for understanding contemporary peacebuilding practice, for assessing its successes and failures, and for improving its outcomes.At the same time, its overwhelming focus on building liberal democratic institutions and on the role of external actors has resulted in conceptual blind spots.Neither the proponents nor the critics of the liberal approach have paid sufficient attention to understanding the internal political dynamics that drive postwar peace and state building. While critics frequently point out the liberal tendency to neglect local perspective and power dynamics, they have not adequately explained how varying political, social, and institutional realities affect peacebuilding outcomes. I explore how a hybrid approach that focuses attention on internal political dynamics can shed light on peacebuilding successes and failures. I conclude with the implications, devoting more attention to the implications of internal politics for the study and practice of peacebuilding and the implications a hybrid model has for the paradigm of liberalism.

Critical responses to the home frequently imagined by nineteenth- and twentieth-century feminist writing suggest that the domestic is too compromised for a twenty-first-century feminist imaginary. Contemporary feminist dialogues are increasingly alert to the politics of the domestic and its resistance to transformational politics. Yet feminist writing has not relinquished the domestic as a site or language for imagining feminist possibility and practice. If anything, we have seen a proliferation of feminist writing interested in the domestic since the beginning of the twenty-first century. This chapter turns to three literary novels spanning the century so far: Zadie Smith’s On Beauty (2005),Deborah Levy’s Swimming Home (2011), and Miranda July’s First Bad Man(2015). In each novel, the homeas literary institution, holiday villa, and single-woman’s houseoffers a focal point for questions about feminist imagining that gives shape to specific textual strategies, suggesting that if twenty-first-century feminism cannot relinquish the domestic, we must learn to dwell in its compromised politics.

This chapter focuses attention on a visual motif that became synonymous with the Reformation; the scales of justice weighing the Bible against the vanities of the Roman Catholic Church. It traces the migrations and mutations of this iconography in English visual culture from the 1570s to the 1670s, examining the contexts in which it appeared and was viewed, including canonical Protestant texts, popular print, domestic decoration and the battlefields of the civil war. It is argued that, in contrast to the pictorial elaboration of similar iconography in reformed continental art, an ‘insular’ process of visual compression enhanced the efficiency and immediacy of this motif’s message of Protestant righteousness. In this synoptic form the imagery served practices of ideological and social cohesion as well as fuelling conflict and division. Like memory itself, the ‘weighing motif’ was repeatedly remade; it was reiterated but modified as it transferred between and across objects, places and spaces. Its success as a particularly memorable motif encapsulates an understanding of the Reformation as both defining historical event and incremental process; while its imagery commemorated a single moment of judgement effecting schism, its persistence and longevity emphasised and facilitated the ongoing struggle for reform.

This chapter explores how Tudor and Stuart families used portraiture to project and record their Protestant identities and reformed lineages over several generations. It asks why portraits as familiar visual sources displayed within a domestic context became important and considers how visual mnemonics were leveraged to secure spiritual status and determine ancestry or broader social status in a rapidly changing social order. The chapter demonstrates how the display of portraiture helped families recall and celebrate the personal narratives of their own Reformation histories in later centuries. It shows how portraiture could provide an assurance of constancy to reformed Christian ideals and a sense of spiritual stability over time, offering evidence of a potential pattern of election to Christian salvation.

This chapter evaluates the links between the power balance in household relationships and Chrysostom’s preaching on pistis (normally translated as ‘faith’). It argues that, for Chrysostom, pistis is closer to faithful obedience than cognitive belief and analyses how Chrysostom used the expected norms of faithful obedience in household relationships to reinforce congregational faithful obedience to God. The chapter uses this preaching to expose the unequal, reciprocal, and sometimes violent nature of the relationships in the late antique household. It also demonstrates how Chrysostom attempted to regulate the household through reinforcing existing power imbalances in relationships, benefiting the paterfamilias as husband, father, or master. Faithfulness to God and the paterfamilias are intertwined. Wives are exhorted to be faithful to and obey their husbands. Sons are expected to obey their fathers. Slaves are encouraged to be loyal and obedient. Masters are encouraged to treat slaves as if they were their own children – fictive kinship – but in practice this amounted to little change. Chrysostom preached a potentially revolutionary message about faithful obedience to God, but recast it into safe exhortations and a defence of existing societal structures.

This chapter canvasses information available in the Arab/Islamic canon on the subject of violence exercised against women in the early Islamic period. The Qur’anic verse in Surat al-Nisa’ (4:34) which gives the husband the right to correct a disobedient or recalcitrant wife, generated a massive exegetical. This chapter begins with a discussion of the exegetical tradition pertaining to this verse and comments on the divergences between the Islamic legal schools and the differences of textual interpretations between theologians and jurisconsults. The second section refers to anecdotes that reveal the conflicts and tensions in private relations, the harmfulness of domestic intimacy, and the dynamics of household violence. The final section discusses episodes describing public violence against women, especially in the streets of Baghdad, the ʿAbbāsid capital. Beyond the rich exegetical tradition, the information tends to be scarce and fragmentary and relies mostly on literary texts makes it difficult to disentangle fact from fiction.The material draws for us, nevertheless, illustrations of certain widespread conceptions in Muslim medieval literary approaches to violence against women and the social context in which the textual edifice was constructed.

Nicola Presley establishes the increasing predominance of television to the American culture out of which Plath’s work emerges. Drawing on advertisements for television in Plath’s beloved Ladies Home Journal as well as contemporary critical thinking on the subject, Presley accounts for Plath’s deliberate engagement with television in her poetry and prose, making a case for Plath’s horror of television’s low artistic values and pernicious effects on those who watch it, yet also arguing for the undeniable visual impact of television on Plath’s writing.

One of the works of the 1764 season at Covent Garden was a new burletta called Midas. Midas was, though, not ‘new’; it was only new to London: an early version of the work had its first staging privately in 1760 in Lurgan near Belfast, and the first professional version was at Dublin’s Crow Street Theatre in 1762. The professional version was prepared in response to the appearance in Dublin of an Italian burletta company, a company that had previously performed in London and would do so again after its Dublin engagement. This interplay of repertory between the two cities - of which Midas was the most obvious product - resulted both in a new genre and a tangling with Italian opera troupes. Midas was the product of a group of Irishmen, of whom Kane O’Hara, the librettist, was the most important and the most enigmatic; this chapter explores his role in the cross-currents of drama between the two cities. In so doing, Burden’s chapter re-contextualises the history of the burletta and offers a powerful demonstration that theatre historians cannot and should not write about London’s theatre in isolation: regional influences were important tributaries to the Georgian capital’s culture.

This chapter explores performances of Irish femininity in London and Dublin following the Act of Union, sketching a literary relationship between writers Sydney Owenson and Alicia Sheridan Le Fanu and between the two cities. Although Sydney Owenson is usually thought of as a novelist, Taylor shows how her play The First Attempt (Dublin 1807) and the author’s own public performances drew on tropes employed by earlier male playwrights in order to (re)stage Anglo-Irish relations in feminine terms. At a special performance of The First Attempt, and in later social gatherings in London, Owenson, dressed in her “wild Irish girl’s” red silk mantle, strategically feminizes and civilizes an earlier Irish character type, such as John Henry Johnstone’s Teague from The Faithful Irishman. Similarly, Alicia Sheridan Le Fanu’s comedy The Sons of Erin (1812) restages and feminizes her brother’s earlier play, Richard Brinsley Sheridan’s St. Patrick’s Day (1775), asserting that Enlightened, politicized Irish women hold the power to influence the Union beyond the stage doors.

The chapter argues that Owenson and Le Fanu’s feminized rewritings of male Irish playwrights chime with London’s desire for feminized pacifications of Irish characters following 1798. At the same time, Owenson and Le Fanu also offer a subversive message about women’s place in Anglo-Irish politics and Ireland’s place in the Union. Both women used the domestic English setting to stage Irish grievances right at the heart of the empire.