Journal articles on the topic 'Middle Irish Period'

Abstract This paper intends to study the history of the Old Irish word aue ‘descendant, grandchild’ in both qualitative and quantitative approaches. The former approach tries to demonstrate what forms this word evolved into from the early Old Irish period up to the end of the Middle Irish period, and to establish the phonological changes it underwent in accordance with our present understanding of the history of the Irish language. The latter approach is based on a linguistically annotated corpus of the Annals of Ulster, and shows the distribution of variant forms of aue in relation to the period they are attested in. The discrepancy between the two observations is discussed and various hypotheses are raised to explain it.

Abstract Intensifiers and reflexives have been studied as features both in areal linguistics and in the context of substratum hypotheses. While typical SAE languages differentiate between intensifiers and reflexives, English, Welsh and Irish use complex intensifiers for both functions. This article discusses the two strategies with regard to their diachronic developments, starting with PIE. Complex intensifiers are first recorded in Old British and emerge only later in English and Irish. These complex intensifiers are then increasingly used as reflexives, constituting an instance of areal divergence from SAE between the late Middle Ages and the early modern period. Breton, on the other hand, maintains its intensifier - reflexive differentiation due to areal convergence.

Most studies of Anglo-Irish relations in the middle ages understandably concentrate on the activity of the English in Ireland, and unintentionally but inevitably this can leave the impression that the movement of people was all one way. But this was not so, and one group who travelled in the opposite direction were some of the merchants and seamen involved in the Anglo-Irish trade of the period. Irish merchants and seamen travelled widely and could be found in Iceland, Lisbon, Bordeaux, Brittany and Flanders, but probably their most regular trade remained with their closest neighbour and political overlord: England. They visited most western and southern English ports, but inevitably were found most frequently in the west, especially at Chester and Bristol. The majority of them stayed for a few days or weeks, as long as their business demanded. Others settled permanently in England, or, perhaps more accurately, re-settled in England, for those who came to England both as settlers and visitors were mainly the Anglo-Irish of the English towns in Ireland and not the Gaelic Irish. This makes it difficult to estimate accurately the numbers of both visitors and settlers, because the status of the Anglo-Irish was legally that of denizen, and record-keepers normally had no reason to identify them separately. They may, therefore, be hard to distinguish from native Englishmen of similar name outside the short periods when governments (central or urban) temporarily sought to restrict their activities. However, the general context within which they worked is quite clear, and this article considers three main aspects of that context: first, the pattern of the trade which attracted Irish merchants to England; second, the role of the Irish merchants and seamen in the trade; and third, examples of individual careers of merchants and seamen who settled in England.

The history of women’s programming at the Irish television station Teilifís Éireann has long been neglected within the historiography of Irish television. Seminal studies within the field have focused quite specifically on the institutional history of the Irish station and have not paid much attention to programming. This is particularly true in regards to women’s programmes. This paper addresses this gap in the literature by demonstrating a methodological approach for reconstructing this lost segment of programming using the example of Home for Tea, a women’s magazine programme that ran on TÉ from 1964 to 1966. It was the network’s flagship women’s programme during this period but is completely absent from within the scholarship on Irish television. Drawing on the international literature on the history of women’s programmes this paper utilises press sources to reconstruct the Home for Tea’s content and discourse around it. It argues that, though Home for Tea has been neglected, a reconstruction of the programme illuminates wider themes of the everyday at Teilifís Éireann, such as a middle-class bias and the treatment of its actors. As such, its reconstruction, and that of other similar programmes, are exceptionally important in moving towards a more holistic history of the Irish station.

This article examines the development of cooperative relationships in back-channel communication and their impact on intraparty negotiation. It draws on extensive newly available evidence on back-channel communication in the Irish peace process to expand the range of detailed case studies on a topic which is shrouded in secrecy and resistant to academic inquiry. The article analyses the operation of a secret back channel that linked the Irish Republican Army to the British government over a period of 20 years, drawing on unique material from the private papers of the intermediary, Brendan Duddy, and a range of other primary sources. The article finds that interaction through this back channel increased predictability and laid a foundation of extremely limited trust by providing information and increasing mutual understanding. Strong cooperative relationships developed at the intersection between the two sides, based to a great extent on strong interpersonal relationships and continuity in personnel. This in turn produced direct pressure for changes in the position of parties as negotiators acted as advocates of movement in intraparty negotiations. The article finds that this back channel was characterized by a short chain, the direct involvement of principals and the establishment of a single primary channel of communication and that these features combined with secrecy to generate the distinctive cooperative dynamics identified in this article. It concludes that the potential for the development of cooperative relationships is particularly strong in back-channel negotiation for two reasons; first, the joint project of secrecy creates an ongoing shared task that builds trust and mutual understanding regardless of progress in the negotiations. Secondly, as a shared project based on the explicit aim of bypassing spoilers, the process creates structural pressures for cooperation to manage internal opponents on both sides, pressures intensified by the secrecy of the process.

Abstract This paper offers the first survey of evidence for the translation of Middle English literature beyond the English-speaking world in the medieval period. It identifies and discusses translations in five vernaculars: Welsh, Irish, Old Norse-Icelandic, Dutch, and Portuguese. The paper examines the contexts in which such translation took place and considers the role played by colonial, dynastic, trading, and ecclesiastical networks in the transmission of these works. It argues that English is in the curious position of being a vernacular with a reasonable international reach in translation, but often with relatively low literary and cultural prestige. It is evident that most texts translated from English in this period are works which themselves are based on sources in other languages, and it seems probable that English-language texts are often convenient intermediaries for courtly or devotional works more usually transmitted in French or Latin.

Between 1879 and 1882 a mass agrarian movement, led by the Irish National Land League, became a strong, all-encompassing force in Irish life for a brief but crucial period. This movement, one of the largest agrarian movements to take place in nineteenth-century Europe, has been treated as a nationalist movement, with emphasis of study placed on the role, contributions and aims of the league’s national leaders. These men, seeking their own varieties of self-government, saw the land movement as means to a political end. To them the land agitation provided a stepping-stone to national independence. It was the Irish peasantry, however, motivated primarily by economic considerations, that provided the driving force behind the movement, and at this level Irish peasant women made major contributions to the agrarian revolt. In this study the Land League movement is viewed as an agrarian protest movement; its purpose is to examine in particular the roles played by the Irish peasant women during the Land League period.These contributions have not been adequately recognised in historical literature. Recently the role of the Irish peasant has been duly acknowledged, but in these discussions a male image usually appears. When the Irish women’s role in the land movement is examined, it is done so in the context of the organisation known as the Ladies’ Land League. These studies concentrate on the activities of the upper- and middle-class urban leaders, particularly the Parnell sisters. But to dwell only on the Ladies’ Land League as the focus of women’s participation in the Land League movement is far too narrow, for it obscures the fact that hundreds of peasant women were fighting the Land War on a daily basis long before the formation of the women’s organisation. The papers of some of the local branches of the Land League provide evidence which shows that Irish rural women participated in the Land War from its beginning. Although the archival sources of the Land League period are biased towards men, enough material regarding the peasant women’s activities, admittedly limited and somewhat sparse, does exist to allow a strong argument to be put forward that peasant women performed effectively in the Land War.

This study examines two features of the Irish English literary dialect of William Carleton, a bilingual writer of the period when Ireland shifted to English. It addresses the issue of the validity of literary dialect via empirical comparison of the use of plural verbal -s in Carleton and in personal letters written by a close contemporary from a similar background. The result suggests considerable accuracy in Carleton’s dialect representation: he uses plural verbal -snot only in agreement with the complex constraints of the Northern Subject Rule but also in line with usage in the letters. Then the study examines Carleton’s use of the be after V-ing construction, which is typically a perfect in present-day Irish English. The future uses found in older texts are sometimes cited as examples of inauthentic literary dialect. However, like others of his generation, Carleton uses be after V-ingin both future and perfect senses. Given his social and linguistic background, his place in relation to the language shift, and the apparent accuracy with which he portrays dialect features, Carleton provides crucial support for the view that future uses arose in a language contact situation in which speakers of British English interpreted be after V-ingas a future, while speakers of Irish acquiring English intended it as a calque on an Irish perfect. As more Irish shifted to English, perfect meanings came to dominate. Carleton and his contemporaries bear witness to the middle phase of this process.

Swathes of roads and pipelines cut through the Irish landscape during the ‘Celtic Tiger’ years (approximately 1994–2008) leading to an unprecedented number of archaeological excavations and creating a unique opportunity for extensive research of past landscapes on a broad scale. The vast quantities of bulk soil samples suddenly available necessitated the development and adaptation of new methodologies. Despite the huge volumes of these samples, of which charcoal is the most ubiquitous ecofact, to date charcoal analysis has been considerably under-utilised in the study of past Irish woodlands. This research presents one of the largest Bronze Age archaeological charcoal datasets in Europe. It provides new palaeoecological evidence contributing to the understanding of woodland cover transformation on the island of Ireland during the late-Holocene period. The most common taxa identified in the charcoal assemblage compare well with regional pollen diagrams, particularly the use of Quercus and Corylus. With intensifying human activity during the middle Bronze Age, the proportion of Maloideae, a light demanding family rose. This is the first clear evidence of anthropogenic influence during the middle Bronze Age in Ireland derived from archaeological charcoal. The size of the charcoal dataset makes it possible to evaluate woodland cover and resourcing from two perspectives – both archaeological and palaeoecological.

Irish English (IrE) was initially learned as a second language as a result of the successive colonizations of Ireland by speakers of English and Scots dialects that began in the Middle Ages and reached a peak during what is termed ‘The Plantation Period’ of Irish history. The scheme persuaded English and Scottish settlers to colonize the island of Ireland, hailing from urban centres like London as well as more rural areas like Norfolk and Galloway. This intensive colonization process created the possibility that a novel type of English could emerge. This new variety is characterized by: (i) innovative forms; (ii) the incorporation of features drawn from Irish, the indigenous language prior to colonization, and (iii) other characteristics caused by the mixing of Irish with the regional Scots and English vernaculars of the new settlers. Interestingly (and not uncommonly when migratory movements of these kinds arise), modern varieties of IrE still retain this mixed heritage. Moreover, the colonization is preserved culturally – particularly in the north of Ireland – by ethnic divisions between the descendants of the migrant and indigenous populations. Thus, Catholics, who reflect the latter group, celebrate events like ‘St Patrick's Day’ while their Protestant neighbours commemorate ‘The Glorious Twelfth’ each July, celebrating the day in 1690 when King William III's victory at the Battle of the Boyne ensured the ultimate success of the Plantation scheme in which their forefathers participated. The linguistic consequences of this contact permeate all aspects of the speech used within these communities (accent, grammar and vocabulary). Moreover, some of the grammatical features that are the focus of this article have travelled to regions that have been intensively settled by Irish migrants. Hence, these features also have important implications for the study of transported dialects, which has recently become very topical and is the focus of a new strand of research in English variation studies typified by the publication of Hickey (ed. 2004).

Unlike some members of his profession, Richard Hadsor (c. 1570–1635), a Middle Temple lawyer born in Ireland, has not been caught in the spotlight which historians have aimed at the dramatic political confrontations in England and Ireland during the early seventeenth century. Nor, since he was not a recusant, has he attracted the attention of Irish historians of the legal profession. Although canvassed for both, he never attained a seat in a parliament or a place on the English or Irish judiciary. He had no part in the ‘inflation of honours’ as either a broker or a recipient. Although he spent the whole of his professional life in London, nothing is known of his English social circle — apart from a single reference in his will to Sir lohn Bramston, a fellow Templar — or the value of his private practice, and only a little (which is, however, suggestive) of his clientèle. He wrote nothing for publication. He had no legitimate offspring and, therefore, none of the successful lawyer’s usual inclination to create a substantial patrimony. In consequence, it is hardly surprising that he does not figure in the standard works of biography or even in a commemoration of nearly one thousand Middle Templars straddling several centuries. Nevertheless, in his own time Richard Hadsor was no nonentity, and he deserves to be rescued from an entirely posthumous obscurity by something more generous than a scholarly footnote. His career as a devoted royal servant spanned a period in which the Old English were being relentlessly excluded from high office in Ireland, yet as crown counsel for Irish affairs he succeeded in establishing a distinctive niche in the Whitehall bureaucracy.

In the early middle ages, a community of Irish monks constructed a monastery outpost on the lonely Skellig Michael just offshore of County Kerry. These skelligs served as a mysterious boundary land where the known met the unknown, the worldly wrangled with the spiritual, and the very parameters of humanity itself were brought into question. Amid a period of great transition in Irish society, the monks willfully abandoned the luxuries of developing Western civilization on the mainland (and on the continent more broadly) to test their endurance through religious asceticism on a craggy island more suitable to birds than bipeds. This article reimagines the Skellig Michael experiment as a liminal space, one that troubles premodern efforts to disassociate from animality in an era when “human” and “animal” were malleable concepts. As Western society transitioned from animist paganism to anthropocentric Christianity and Norman colonial control, the Skellig Michael outpost (which survived into the 1300s) offered a point of permeability that invites a critical rethinking of early Irish custom. This article applies theories of liminality and Critical Animal studies to address the making of “human” and “animal” in the march to “civilization,” arguing that species demarcation and the establishment of anthroparchy has been central to the process.

This essay analyses Samuel Beckett’s Trilogy and Waiting for Godot through the enabling theoretical lens of Martin Heidegger’s Being and Time. Special attention shall be paid to key Heideggerian concepts: idle talk, authenticity, and inauthenticity. A Heideggerian reading of Beckett’s influential middle period allows for a rich exploration of how his works provide a vision of the psychological state of the formerly powerful Anglo-Irish in post-independence Ireland. A Beckettian reading of Heidegger demonstrates how Heideggerian thought has been at the forefront of elucidating key challenges posed in the Twentieth Century concerning ways of being-in-the-world and being-with-others that allows for the authenticity of individual subjectivities.

The cross of Christ in the Middle Ages was the most powerful symbol of God’s victory over sin, death and the forces of evil, while also representing the most abject suffering and degradation of Jesus Christ, the God-Man. A simplistic reading of the evolution of the theology of the cross during this period posits a transition from the early medieval victorious and heroic Christ figure, reigning and triumphant upon the cross, to a late medieval emaciated and tortured object of pity whose ignominious death was supposed to elicit heartfelt compassion for his plight and sincere sorrow for the sin which placed him on the beams of the tree of crucifixion. Of course, there is a great deal of value in this argument, and much evidence might be brought forward to support its central thesis. However, it should not be pushed too far; it might also be remembered that the essential paradox of Christ the victor-victim is a constant theme in Christian theology, expressed in the sixth-century Vexilla regis in its identification of the cross as ‘victim of the passion’s glory, by which life brought death to an end, and, by death, gave life again’ and in the hymn Victimae paschali laudes from the central medieval period: ‘Death with life contended, combat strangely ended, life’s own champion slain yet lives to reign’. The image of the victorious cross of Christ, conceived of as simultaneously an instrument of triumph and of torture, would persist right through the late medieval period, despite the development of a greater emphasis on the physical sufferings of Christ in his passion and their ever more graphic depictions. This essay, which examines the way in which the cross of Christ is presented in medieval Irish literature, provides sufficient examples to make this point clear; these are drawn from a variety of sources including religious verse, saints’ lives, medieval travel accounts and sermon material. Of course, these examples are best viewed within the context of a broader medieval European devotional culture from which Ireland was certainly not immune.

This article looks at the early development of women’s football in Ireland, examining the cultural impact of the first women’s matches, and how this early heritage has laid foundations for future developments. Women took to playing association football not long after it was first established as a male bastion during the latter half of the nineteenth century. These early matches attracted large crowds, public and press criticism, and in some instances social disorder. The article first examines how the Irish press presented this sporting innovation and the first exposure to actual matches when the British Ladies Club arrived to play in Belfast in early June 1895. Beyond the expected disapproval, there is evidence that debate took place on women’s general role in society, and in particular how females could engage in sport. Also examined is the way British Ladies Club presented themselves as upper-middle-class, and how this contrasted with the way they were portrayed in the press. New research is presented, which casts doubt on the club’s middle-class image and shows how friction between the club and its main sponsor arose when a true picture of the players’ backgrounds came to light. In conclusion, the author contrasts the Irish response to the British Ladies Football Club with the women’s sides that played during World War I and the post-war period. It is shown that the early matches of the 1890s paved the way for a more appreciative and accepting audience.

While it is well established that the structure and organization of the education system affects youth transitions, less attention has been paid to the study of qualitative distinctions at the same level of education over time in the Irish context. Using data from the School Leavers’ Survey over the period 1980-2006, this paper considers the hypothesis of effectively maintained inequality in the case of the Republic of Ireland. The data capture young people’s transitions during three distinct and remarkable macro-economic fluctuations, and makes a particularly interesting test case for EMI. Over the cohorts under investigation, Ireland had changed from a recessionary economic climate and prolonged economic stagnation for much of the 1980s to a booming economy by the middle of the mid-2000s and one of the most dynamic economies in the world during the “Celtic Tiger” period. The patterns of social-class inequality over a 30-year paper reported in this article suggest that qualitative differences at the same level of inequality represent a persistent barrier to greater equality in the Irish context. Specifically, we find three notable patterns to support the hypothesis of EMI with regard to tracking decisions taken in the transition from lower secondary to upper secondary, subject-level differentiation in the upper secondary mathematics curriculum, and access to university higher education.

There were two main concerns of Tudor and Stuart governments in relation to the sea surrounding the coast of Ireland. First, and most important, there was the need to defend it from hostile ships belonging to England's enemies. This involved the security of England as much as Ireland and, throughout the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, was usually controlled by the admiralty establishment in London. The setting out and supervision of ships to defend the Irish and English coasts was rarely delegated to an Irish authority. The second concern was the administration of the law maritime in Ireland. The law maritime included within its jurisdiction all crimes committed at sea or on the coast such as the seizure and robbing of ships by pirates and other sea-rovers, as well as cases involving death aboard ship, seamen's wages, salvage, wreck, damage by collision at sea, and other disputes involving the sea or the men who earned their living from it. In the medieval period such matters were often dealt with in the courts of chancery and exchequer, but in the later middle ages a separate admiralty court emerged in England where the civil maritime law was practised. The existence of the court, however, remained shadowy until it was enlarged and established on a permanent basis in the 1530s. At the same time, procedure in the court was simplified by the passing of an act which allowed for the prosecution of crimes at sea by special commissions according to common law.

The present study focuses on 33 British and Irish students, including non-language specialists and language specialists, who spent their study abroad (SA) period in Francophone countries. Their proficiency in French ranged from lower independent (B1) to advanced level (C2). The analysis of quantitative data collected at the start, in the middle, and at the end of the SA period through an online questionnaire showed that both actual proficiency and self-reported proficiency increased significantly after SA. A closer look at self-reported proficiency in the four skills showed a significant linear increase in speaking and listening, while scores for reading and writing only increased significantly after the mid-way point in the SA period. The same pattern emerged for grammar and vocabulary. Only pronunciation showed no significant change over the SA period. Linking the amount of change in actual proficiency between the start and the end of the SA period to participants’ descriptions of their experience revealed that progress was not always linked to overall positivity of the experience but rather to the development of a strong local French social network. Actual and self-reported proficiency scores were significantly correlated. Participants with lower initial actual proficiency were found to have made the biggest gain during SA.

ObjectivesTo describe demographic and psychiatric characteristics of suicide victim cases.MethodRetrospective, case file psychological autopsy of deaths registered at the coroner's court, Dublin. Cases with a verdict of suicide and open verdicts registered in 2007, 2012 and 2013 were included.ResultsTwo hundred and five cases of suicide/open verdicts were registered the 3-year period. Seventy four percent (n = 152) were males. Mean age – 42.87 years old (STD = 15.44) with no significant difference between genders. Sixty-four percent (n = 132) were single at the time of death, while 32.2% had children. One hundred and ninety-eight had a stable accommodation; 37.5% (n = 77) living alone, and 36.6% (n = 75) actively employed.One hundred and twelve subjects (54.6%) suffered from mental illness; 53.6% – affective disorder; 15.2% – alcohol and substance misuse; 12.5% – psychotic disorder. Seventy-nine (70.5%) were not in contact with mental health services at the time of death; 32 (28.6%) were attending as outpatients. Illness onset was recorded for 68.7% cases (n = 77); 35.7% (n = 40) had a length of illness of more than 5 years. Psychiatric comorbidity was present in 29.5% (n = 33); 54.5% (n = 18) presented also alcohol/substance misuse.ConclusionSuicide victims were single, middle-aged male, suffered mental health difficulties, most frequently affective disorder. A small number of subjects an additional comorbid diagnosis. Few were in contact with outpatient services at the time of death. No significant differences in demographic characteristics were found between the group suffering from mental illness and the group with no mental illness.Disclosure of interestThe author has not supplied his/her declaration of competing interest.

The recent accession to the Vatican Archives of registers of the Sacred Penitentiary, a category of business which remained closed when the general records of the papacy were opened to scholarly research at large in 1881, is an important development. It has especially exciting implications for late medieval Irish history The availability of the Penitentiary material will greatly facilitate an undertaking which is of prime importance but for which the sources are otherwise scanty the study of religious sentiment in Ireland in the period from about the second decade of the fifteenth century, when these registers begin, to the Reformation. This is an aspect of ecclesiastical history to which the legalistic and contentious documents of the beneficiary deposits, the principal point of contact between Ireland and the papacy in the middle ages — though immensely valuable in their own right — do not readily lend themselves.

This article charts and tries to explain the changing use of ‘minority’ languages in Europe between the end of the Middle Ages and the 19th century. This period saw the beginnings of a decline in the use of certain dialects and separate languages, notably Irish and Scottish Gaelic, although some tongues such as Catalan and Welsh remained widely used. The article develops some models of the relationship between language and its social, economic and political context. That relationship was mediated through the availability of printed literature; the political (including military) relations between areas where different languages or dialects were spoken; the nature and relative level of economic development (including urbanization); the policy of the providers of formal education and that of the church on religious instruction and worship; and, finally, local social structures and power relationships. The focus is principally on western Europe, but material is also drawn from Scandinavia and from eastern and central Europe.

Recent research on the use of the notion of Europe during the Middle Ages has confirmed that the name of the continent only rarely acquired a political meaning, if at all, in this period. What is particularly surprising is the observation that several authors in the Latin world used expressions such as regnum Europae or regna Europae, especially in the Carolingian period, without elaboration. Hence, although Charlemagne has been praised as ‘father of Europe’ by one contemporary author, the idea of an ‘Emperor of Europe’ was never developed, with the exception of two brief notices in early medieval Irish annalistic compilations. Even during the High Middle Ages, when the name of the continent came to be more widely used in different contexts, only a small set of figures, historical as well as fictitious, were ascribed with the aspiration or quality of ruling all of Europe. Towards the end of the Middle Ages, however, the notion of an ‘Emperor of Europe’ became more common in a particular context: Christian authors accused non-Christian rulers of Asian origin (Mongols, Turks) of seeking to subdue the entire continent. Latin authors, in turn, started to perceive Europe as being the home of Christendom. This article demonstrates how those Christian authors accept a pluralistic order for their own continent (on a political level), and contrasts this with the quest for hegemonic rule that becomes a motive of polemic, which they ascribe to non-Christian rulers. Although their arguments do not lead to the explicit presentation of Europe as the ‘continent of freedom’, they do recognise and value the existence of a multitude of political entities which they contrast with a hegemonic and homogenous political role of ‘Asian tyrants’. In a broader perspective, these findings open insights into late medieval political thought that go beyond what we can learn from contemporary ‘political discussion’ in a more limited sense.

ABSTRACTThis article is concerned with political divisions within the Dublin Society of United Irishmen in a period, 1792–1794, which historians, accepting the contemporary argument of its leaders, have generally agreed demonstrated the society's unity of purpose. It is argued that ideological tensions existed between the middle-class leadership and the middling-class rank and file which reflected the existence of two different conceptions of radicalism, one ‘Jacobin’ and one ‘sans-culotte’. These tensions are brought to light through an examination of the dispute between William Paulet Carey and William Drennan, which culminated in the latter's trial in 1794, and the career of the former until he exiled himself from Ireland after the ijg8 rebellion. It is further argued that, because these ideological differences have been ignored, historians have wrongly assumed that Carey was a political turncoat. In reality, he remained true to the sans-culotte principles of direct democracy and rotation of office, even after his ostracism. Carey's deep suspicion of the motivation of the United Irish leaders came to be accepted by Drennan in retrospect.

This paper reports the first study of breeding in the boreo-arctic barnacle Semibalanus balanoides in which latitudinal variation in timing of egg mass hardening has been examined simultaneously over the geographical scale involved, thereby excluding temporal confounding of the data. The timing of autumn egg mass hardening on the middle shore was established in 2002 and 2003 at ten stations ranging latitudinally from Trondheim (63°24′N) to Plymouth (50°18′N). To assess variation at local scale (<10 km), breeding was studied on three shores at each of two Irish locations (Cork and Galway). At Oban (Scotland) and Cork, the effect of shore height on timing of breeding was investigated. A strong influence of latitude and day length on timing of breeding was found in both 2002 and 2003. In both years, barnacles bred much earlier (when day length was longer) at high rather than low latitudes. No significant effect of environmental temperature or insolation on timing of breeding was detected. Shores no more than 10 km apart showed minimal difference in middle shore breeding date (<4 days). However, upper shore barnacles bred significantly earlier (by 7–13 days) than middle shore animals. The data indicate that breeding is controlled by period of daily darkness, with high shore animals encountering longer effective ‘nights’ because of the opercular closure response to emersion (which will reduce light penetration to tissues). Predictions concerning the effects of global changes in climate and cloud cover on breeding and population distribution are made. It is suggested that increased cloud cover in the northern hemisphere is likely to induce earlier breeding, and possibly shift the present southern limit of Semibalanus southwards.

ABSTRACTLithostratigraphical studies coupled with the development of new dating methods has led to significant progress in understanding the Late Pleistocene terrestrial record in Scotland. Systematic analysis and re-evaluation of key localities have provided new insights into the complexity of the event stratigraphy in some regions and the timing of Late Pleistocene environmental changes, but few additional critical sites have been described in the past 25 years. The terrestrial stratigraphic record remains important for understanding the timing, sequence and patterns of glaciation and deglaciation during the last glacial/interglacial cycle. Former interpretations of ice-free areas in peripheral areas during the Last Glacial Maximum (LGM) are inconsistent with current stratigraphic and dating evidence. Significant challenges remain to determine events and patterns of glaciation during the Early and Middle Devensian, particularly in the context of offshore evidence and ice sheet modelling that indicate significant build-up of ice throughout much of the period. The terrestrial evidence broadly supports recent reconstructions of a highly dynamic and climate-sensitive British–Irish Ice Sheet (BIIS), which apparently reached its greatest thickness in Scotland between 30 and 27ka, before the global LGM. A thick (relative to topography) integrated ice sheet reaching the shelf edge with a simple ice-divide structure was replaced after the LGM by a much thinner one comprising multiple dispersion centres and a more complex flow structure.

AbstractElizabeth Butler, marchioness of Ormonde, came to prominence during the middle years of the seventeenth century as a result of her care of Protestant refugees in the aftermath of the 1641 rebellion; her royalist exile in Caen; her successful claim to a portion of the confiscated Ormonde estate; and her subsequent retirement to Dunmore in County Kilkenny. Her letters from the 1650s and 1660 provide valuable insight on her role as an influential Irish royalist, and specifically reveal the importance of women in the social and political network that supported her through this tumultuous period. Prominent among the women in her network include the anonymous ‘JH’, a kinswoman who acted as Ormonde's intelligencer and spy in Cromwell's court in London in the early 1650s; Katherine, Lady Ranelagh, an acquaintance who wielded significant influence with the Cromwellian administration in Dublin and acted as Ormonde's intermediary in the mid 1650s; a group of pre-eminent British noblewomen from prominent royalist families with whom Ormonde maintained a relationship of mutual support from the 1650s into the 1660s; and finally Anne Hume, Ormonde's friend, confidante and long-serving waiting gentlewoman, who acted as her agent and messenger as Ormonde prepared for the Restoration in May 1660. Offering a more granular examination of Ormonde's activities during the 1650s than has been undertaken to date, this article shows that women were of primary importance to Ormonde's survival and indeed thriving through the Interregnum. More broadly, it indicates that female alliances were key to women's political agency in Cromwellian Ireland and that women were central to royalist political activity during the Interregnum.

Excavations were carried out intermittently between 1982 and 2005, by various excavators, in advance of quarrying activity at Upper Largie, Kilmartin Glen, Argyll & Bute. They revealed abundant evidence of prehistoric activity, dating from the Mesolithic to the Middle Bronze Age, on a fluvioglacial terrace overlooking the rest of the Glen, although some evidence was doubtless destroyed without record during a period of unmonitored quarrying. Several undated features were also discovered. Mesolithic activity is represented by four pits, probably representing a temporary camp; this is the first evidence for Mesolithic activity in the Glen. Activity of definite and presumed Neolithic date includes the construction, and partial burning, of a post-defined cursus. Copper Age activity is marked by an early Beaker grave which matches counterparts in the Netherlands in both design and contents, and raises the question of the origin of its occupant. The terrace was used again as a place of burial during the Early Bronze Age, between the 22nd and the 18th century, and the graves include one, adjacent to the early Beaker grave, containing a unique footed Food Vessel combining Irish and Yorkshire Food Vessel features. At some point/s during the first half of the 2nd millennium bc – the oakbased dates may suffer from ‘old wood’ effect – three monuments were constructed on the terrace: a pit, surrounded by pits or posts, similar in design to the early Beaker grave; a timber circle; and a post row. The latest datable activity consists of a grave, containing cremated bone in a Bucket Urn, the bone being dated to 1410–1210 cal bc; this may well be contemporary with an assemblage of pottery from a colluvium spread. The relationship between this activity and contemporary activities elsewhere in the Glen is discussed.

In this paper we seek to bridge the gap between recent analysis relating to the distributional consequences of the Great Recession across the income distribution and more specific concerns relating to inter-generational outcomes. In Ireland in 2008 there was a clear age gradient in relation to economic stress. Over time the gradient became sharper with the relative position of younger groups deteriorating. The increased salience of age group differentiation in Ireland involved two components. The first related to variability in increases in stress across the age spectrum that was common across income class categories. In that respect children and the older middle age group suffered most. The second involves changes in the additional effects of poverty. While the variable impact of poverty increased the differentials between the elderly and all other groups, it reduced the degree of differentiation between the non-elderly groups. It is not possible to understand the impact of the Great Recession in Ireland by focusing only on changing relativities in relation to social class, unless one allows for the fact that the changing impact of life course stage varied across income classes and the scale of absolute increases in economic stress levels for the non-elderly groups experienced across all income classes. That the Irish pattern of change was not an inevitable outcome of the economic crisis is illustrated by the fact that in Iceland a similar starting point produced a quite different set of changes. Greece, on the other hand, provides an example of the emergence of significant age related differentiation where the pre-recession period was characterised by their absence. Clearly policy choices not only affect life course differentiation but the extent to which operates in a uniform or variable fashion across income classes.

From certain point of view a desperate defense of an aesthetic doctrine of classicism, undertaken by Jan Śniadecki, a Polish mathematician and astronomer of the eighteenth century, resembles the E. R. Curtius’ thesis on “Latinism” as a universal factor integrating European culture; it may be stated that post-Stanislavian classical writers in Poland were driven by the same “concern for the preservation of Western culture” which motivated Ernst Robert Curtius in the times of the Third Reich and after its collapse. But the noble-minded intentions were in both cases grounded on similarly distorted perspective, which ensued from a mistificatory attitude towards a non-Latin heritage of the European culture. The range of that mystification or delusion has been fully revealed by findings made by modern so-called new comparative mythology/philology. Another aspect of the problem is an uniform model of the Middle Ages, partially correlated with the Enlightenment-based stereotype of “the dark Middle Ages”, which despite of its anachronism existed in literary studies for a surprisingly long period of time. Although the Romantic Movement of 18th – 19th centuries has been quite correctly acknowledged as an anti-Latinistic upheaval, its real connections with certain traditions of Middle Ages still remain not properly understood. Some concepts concerning Macpherson’s The Works of ossian, put forward by modern ethnology, may yield clues to the research on the question. As suggested by Joseph Falaky Nagy, Macpherson’s literary undertaking may by looked into as a parallel to Acallam na Senórach compiled in Ireland between 11th and 13th centuries: in both cases to respond to threats to the Gaelic culture there arose a literary monument and compendium of the commendable past with the core based on the Fenian heroic tradition that was the common legacy for the Irish and Highlanders. Taking into consideration some other evidence, it can be ascertained that Celtic and Germanic revival initiated in the second half of 18th century was not only one of the most important impulses for the Romantic Movement, but it was also, in a sense, an actual continuation of the efforts of mediaeval writers and compilers (Geoffrey of Monmouth, Snorri Sturluson, Saxo Grammaticus, anonymous compilers of Lebor gabála Érenn and Acallam, Wincenty Kadłubek), who would successfully combine Latin, i.e. classical, and ecclesiastical erudition with a desire to preserve and adapt in a creative way their own “pagan” and “barbarian” legacy. A special case of this (pre)Romantic revival concerns Slavic cultures, in particular the Polish one. Lack of source data on the oldest historical and cultural tradition of Slavic languages, especially in the Western region, and no record about Slavic tradition in highbrow literary culture induced two solutions: the first one was a production of philological forgeries (like Rukopis královédvorský and Rukopis zelenohorský), the second one was an attempt to someway reconstruct that lost heritage. Works of three Romantic historians, W. Surowiecki, W. A. Maciejowski, F. H. Lewestam, shows the method. Seemingly contradicting theories they put forward share common ground in aspects which are related to the characteristics of the first Slavic societies: a sense of being native inhabitants, pacifism, rich natural resources based on highly-effective agriculture, dynamic demography, a flattened social hierarchy and physical prowess. The fact of even greater importance is that the image of that kind has the mythological core, the circumstance which remains hitherto unnoticed. Polish historians not only tended to identify historical ancient Slavs with mythical Scandinavian Vanir (regarding it obvious), but also managed to recall the great Indo-European theme of ”founding conflict” (in Dumézilian terms), despite whole that mythological model being far beyond the horizon of knowledge at that time. Despite all anachronisms, lack of knowledge and instrumental involvement in aesthetic, political or religious ideology, Romanticism really started the restitution of the cultural legacy of the Middle Ages, also in domain of linguistic and philological research. The consequences of that fact should be taken into account in literary history studies.

The Jurassic and Cretaceous sedimentary infill of the Irish and Celtic Sea Basins is intimately associated with the breakup of the supercontinent Pangea, and the opening of the Atlantic margin. Previous basin studies have constrained tectonism, basin uplift and sediment composition, but sediment provenance and routing have not received detailed consideration. Current hypotheses for basin infill suggest localized sediment sourcing throughout the Jurassic and Cretaceous, despite a dynamic tectonic and palaeoenvironmental history spanning more than 100 million years. We present detrital zircon, white mica and apatite geochronology alongside heavy mineral data from five basins. Findings reveal that basin infill derived predominantly from distal sources with lesser periods of local sourcing. We deduce that tectonically induced marine transgression and regression events had a first-order control on distal v. proximal sedimentary sourcing. Additionally, tectonism which uplifted the Fastnet Basin region during the Middle–Late Jurassic recycled basin sediments into the connected Celtic and Irish Sea Basins. Detrital geochronology and heavy mineral evidence support three distinct provenance switches throughout the Jurassic and Cretaceous in these basins. Overall an integrated multi-proxy provenance approach provides novel insights to tectonic and environmental controls on basin infill as demonstrated in the Irish and Celtic Sea Basins.Supplementary material: Tables S1–S6 are available at https://doi.org/10.6084/m9.figshare.c.5343657

Research was conducted to examining the effects of harvest periods on root yield, essential oil content, resinoid content and essential oil composition of Iris species. Iris germanica field in Kuyucak town of Isparta which plant 3 years were constituted in 2016 year as three replications plots according to randomized block experimental design. Harvest was made in the middle each month from April to September (6 periods). Number of rhizomes weight, fresh rhizome yield, dry rhizome yield, essential oil ratio, resinoid ratio and composition in the Iris germanica were determined. In the study, differences between rhizome yield and examining characteristics of Iris germanica according to harvesting periods were statistically significant. Number of rhizomes varied between 3.27-6.47 per plant, rhizome weight 85.55-186.52 g per plant, fresh rhizome yield 972.8-1651.2 kg da-1, dry rhizome yield 212.33-457.50 kg da-1, essential oil and resinoid ratio of rhizome obtained after harvest 0.057-0.076%, 8.00-10.57% essential oil and resinoid ratio in stored rhizomes 0.10-0.14%, 6.95-10.45%, respectively. Rate of α-iron and ɣ-iron components that determine to qualities in essential oil of Iris rhizomes in after harvest varied between 16.1-27.7% and 23.4-50.8% and 29.4-31.2% and 55.2-59% in the essential oil stored rhizomes of Iris germanica, respectively.

Abstract. Using absorption data measured by imaging riometer for ionospheric studies (IRIS) located at the South Africa National Antarctic Expedition (SANAE), Antarctica (72° S, 3° W), we extracted the parameters of gravity waves (GW) of periods between 40 and 50 min during late winter/spring of the year 2002, a period of the unprecedented major sudden stratospheric warming (SSW) in the Southern Hemisphere middle atmosphere. During this period, an unprecedented substantial increase of temperature by about 25–30 K throughout the stratosphere was observed. During the period of the occurrence of the major stratospheric warming, there was a reduction of both the GW horizontal phase speeds and the horizontal wavelengths at 90 km. The GW phase speeds and horizontal wavelengths were observed to reach minimum values of about 7 m s−1 and 19 km, respectively, while during the quiet period the average value of the phase speed and horizontal wavelength was approximately 23 m s−1 and 62 km, respectively. The observed event is discussed in terms of momentum flux and also a potential interaction of gravity waves, planetary waves and mean circulation.

Abstract The recent installation of six broadband digital IRIS/IDA seismic stations in the USSR has provided new opportunities for studying surface-wave propagation across Eurasia. Group velocities of fundamental Rayleigh and Love modes between epicenters and these stations were determined for 35 events that occurred since April 1989 to the middle of July 1990 near Eurasia. Differential phase velocities were found for the same arrivals along paths between several pairs of stations. Group and phase velocities were obtained in the period range from 15 to 300 sec. Frequency-time polarization analysis was used for studying polarization properties of surface waves. In some cases, significant anomalies in the particle motion for periods up to 100 sec were observed. They are attributed to surface-wave refraction and scattering due to lateral inhomogeneities at the boundaries and inside the Eurasia continent.

Tulip, narcissus, and bulbous iris are grown on about 1600 acres annually in western Washington. These bulb crops are poor competitors with winter annual weeds that continually germinate from September through July in the mild maritime climate of this region. Because they do not adequately control emerged weeds but can injure bulb crop foliage, herbicides are applied in the fall. Unfortunately, fall-applied herbicides lack the soil persistence necessary for season-long weed control. If nonselective herbicides could safely be applied after emergence of bulb foliage, emerged weeds would be killed and the application of residual herbicides delayed until spring, thus lengthening the period of weed control through bulb harvest. Glyphosate was tested for selectivity at three postemergence timings (early, middle, and late) on four cultivars each of tulip and iris and three narcissus cultivars. Middle and late glyphosate treatments caused severe injury to tulip foliage and flowers and reduced bulb count and weight, but early glyphosate did not significantly injure most varieties. Narcissus and iris were more tolerant to glyphosate than tulip, but these species also were most tolerant when glyphosate was applied early. In a separate study on iris, carfentrazone, paraquat, and glufosinate were applied postemergence at the same three timings. Glufosinate initially caused moderate injury to foliage (about 20%), but plants quickly recovered. Injury from carfentrazone and paraquat was much more severe (more than 50%), although plant recovery from carfentrazone damage was greater than from paraquat. Bulb yield was not adversely affected by either glufosinate or carfentrazone if applied early. Paraquat at all timings significantly reduced total bulb count and weight.

In modern history there are few countries which present the historian with the kind of interpretative challenge offered by Ireland. The general outlines of the problem are well known—the impact on the island of successive waves of colonisation; the endemic unrest, religious strife, and political instability, exemplified in recent times by the partition of the island between two states; and the interaction and conflict since the middle ages of two cultures and two peoples, Gaelic and English. These salient features of Irish history raise the question of an appropriate historiographical framework within which the island’s history might be interpreted—if we accept that Ireland’s historical experience cannot be understood in isolation. In an article published in this journal three years ago, I outlined an alternative perspective on the history of late medieval Ireland which, it seemed to me, also held possibilities for other periods of Irish history. In the course of the discussion, the article also urged the modification or replacement of particular terms and concepts which have traditionally been used by historians but which, I argued, are an obstacle to a more balanced, pluralistic understanding of Ireland’s past. The article has since attracted a reply by Dr Brendan Bradshaw, on which the journal’s editors have kindly allowed me to comment.

A male refugee from the Middle East was diagnosed with pulmonary tuberculosis and Pott’s disease with paravertebral abscess. After starting the standard regimen, the sputum culture converted to negative and the patient’s general condition improved. Six weeks later, the patient presented with clinical worsening of known symptoms, new appearance of focal neurological deficits and progress of radiological features showing progression of the paravertebral abscess. Immune reconstitution inflammatory syndrome with Mycobacterium tuberculosis (TB-IRIS) was presumed, and treatment with high-dose steroids was started. Due to recurrent relapses while tapering, corticosteroids had to be given over a prolonged period. After treatment completion, the patient was in a good general condition, abscesses had decreased and neurological deficits were in complete remission. This case presents the rare manifestation of TB-IRIS in HIV-negative patients and its management in a high-income country.

The study presents geologic investigation of Yemen and the Gulf of Aden with a special focus on geophysical, seismic, tectonic and topographic mapping performed by the integrated approach of QGIS and GMT scripting. Cartographic visualization is crucial in geologic analysis, data processing and prognosis of mineral resource prospects. The region of Yemen and Gulf of Aden was formed as a result of Arabian and African plates movements and still tectonically active. Besides, the Gulf of Aden contains mineral resources of hydrocarbons which makes this region actual for investigation. The IRIS database on earthquakes was used for visualization of the magnitude of submarine earthquakes in the Gulf of Aden for the period of 2007-2020. The paper presents 6 new thematic maps for the region of Yemen and Gulf of Aden. The research presented an analysis of correlation between the geological, topographic and geophysical settings. Through combined approach of cartographic high-resolution data visualization and geologic analysis, this paper contributed to the regional geological studies of Yemen, Gulf of Aden and the Middle East.

Choroidal melanoma has been described in literature as “a complex and evolving story” which is not far from the reality. While the incidence of this deadly disease is lower in the Asian population in general, the severity of symptoms and lack of cost affordable strategies to manage a case with extensive metastasis are lacking. Therefore, it should be our primary objective as ophthalmologists to diagnose and manage the primary malignancy at the earliest and to persuade the patient for frequent follow ups. Uveal melanoma is the most commonly found primary intraocular tumour in adults.1 Out of the three varieties, choroidal melanoma accounts for 80 % of all uveal melanoma. It is more commonly found in Caucasians and in middle aged males2 with a predilection for tropical areas with high levels of solar radiation.3 The incidence of uveal melanoma in Asian and African population is 0.15 - 0.18 and 0.2 - 0.4 per million respectively which is lowest in the world.4 Its origin can be attributed to the melanocytes or melanin-containing cells found in uveal tissue and important predisposing factors include lighter skin tone and eye colour. Shah et al5 also stated that UV exposure due to arc welding is also a risk factor. Around one fourth of all cases maybe asymptomatic. Presentation as secondary angle closure glaucoma is rare. Othman et al6 found this rare presentation in eight cases all of whom required enucleation. In fact, glaucoma as an initial manifestation of uveal melanoma has been seen in only 3 % of all cases.7 Collaborative ocular melanoma study (COMS) was one of the largest multicentric randomised trials with 1302 subjects detailing demography of patients, classification as well as a comparative evaluation of its treatment modalities. It paved the way for the current standard of care in treating ocular melanomas. This study showed the growth patterns of small sized tumour and demonstrated that there was no significant difference in long term survival rates in patients treated by enucleation and those treated by brachytherapy.8 Although considered a landmark it did not take into account the doubling time for this aggressive malignancy nor did it account for micro metastasis not easily detectable at the time of presentation of primary tumour. There was also a lack of data regarding iris and ciliary body melanomas.9 In this respect the TNM classification of uveal melanoma is more comprehensive, if not complex. The main treatment modalities are radiation therapy and surgical removal of local tumour which range from the fairly simpler enucleation and exenteration to the more challenging endo-resection, exo-resection, transscleral or transretinal resection. The treatment of metastasis is less satisfactory and includes either resection of regional metastasis or hepatic intraarterial chemotherapy or hepatic perfusions. None of which have shown to have good long-term survival.10,11,12

Abstract. The influence of the solar proton event (SPE) 14–16 July 2000 on Polar Mesosphere Summer Echoes (PMSE) is examined. PMSE were observed by the Esrange VHF MST Radar (ESRAD) at 67°53'N, 21°06'E. The 30MHz Imaging Riometer for Ionospheric Studies IRIS in Kilpisjärvi (69°30'N, 20°47'E) registered cosmic radio noise absorption caused by ionisation changes in response to the energetic particle precipitation. An energy deposition/ion-chemical model was used to estimate the density of free electrons and ions in the upper atmosphere. Particle collision frequencies were calculated from the MSISE-90 model. Electric fields were calculated using conductivities from the model and measured magnetic disturbances. The electric field reached a maximum of 91mV/m during the most intensive period of the geomagnetic storm accompanying the SPE. The temperature increase due to Joule and particle heating was calculated, taking into account radiative cooling. The temperature increase at PMSE heights was found to be very small. The observed PMSE were rather intensive and extended over the 80–90km height interval. PMSE almost disappeared above 86km at the time of greatest Joule heating on 15 July 2000. Neither ionisation changes, nor Joule/particle heating can explain the PMSE reduction. Transport effects due to the strong electric field are a more likely explanation. Key words. Meteorology and atmospheric dynamics (middle atmospheric dynamics), ionosphere (ionospheric disturbances; solar radiation and cosmic ray effects)

The article presents the results of histological examination of experimental uveitis in rabbits with the introduction of allogeneic mesenchymal stem cells. These research results make it possible to analyze and further study the effects of allogeneic mesenchymal stem cells in clinical cases of uveitis in animals. Uveitis is a symptom of many diseases that lead to slow functional and anatomical death of the eye. Uveitis causes inflammation of the middle (vascular) membrane of the eye, which consists of the choroid, ciliary body and iris. The use of complex therapy often smooths out the clinical picture of progressive intraocular inflammation, contributing to an increase in its latent period. All this with particular relevance points to the need to study the use of stem cells in eye diseases in animals. Our histological studies on the restoration of eye tissues from the introduced allogeneic mesenchymal stem cells indicate their effective use for uveitis in animals. Stem cells act as a regulator of proliferation in damaged eye tissues and cause cyto-differentiation during cell regeneration, activate the synthesis of anti-inflammatory mediators and enhance their own antioxidant properties. It was found that with the help of allogeneic mesenchymal stem cells, already on the 7th day of the experiment, a decrease in corneal stroma thickening was noted, and on the 14th day, restoration of the anterior surface epithelium was noted. Also on the 30th day of the experiment, almost complete restoration of damaged tissue structures of the eye and the end of the inflammatory process were noted. That is, histological studies indicate not only the recovery function of damaged tissue structures with the help of allogeneic mesenchymal stem cells, but also the effect on the intensity of the inflammatory process, which significantly reduces the time of repair of eye tissues at the level of cells and tissues. The obtained data using stem cells can be used for new modern methods of treating many eye pathologies in ophthalmology.

Background: The treatment of chronic myeloid leukemia (CML) was revolutionized by the approval of Gleevec (imatinib mesylate) by the FDA in 2001. In low-middle-income countries, due to economic issues related to the high cost of this treatment, scientific governmental entities started to produce and release a generic imatinib in 2013. High quality data about the security profile and efficacy of generic imatinib treatment are still needed. Aims: We herein aimed to evaluate the 6 years follow up of CML patients treated with generic imatinib as first line therapy. Patients and Methods: We evaluated a retrospective cohort of 39 patients diagnosed with CML at a single institution, during the period between December 2001 and July 2019, that had used only generic formulation of imatinib since diagnosis; and analyzed their rate of response to treatment as a primary goal and adverse events and survival outcomes as secondary goals. Responses were evaluated according to ELN 2013. Event-free survival and overall survival were measured from starting date of treatment until: loss of molecular response or death from any cause, and until death from any cause or last seen, respectively. Results: The cohort of 39 patients treated with generic imatinib as first line therapy was composed of 23 men (59%) and 16 women (41%), with median age at diagnosis of 52 years (16-74). The median follow up time was 24 months (8-68), and the median duration of generic imatinib therapy was 19 months (5 - 68). Most of the patients were diagnosed at chronic phase (92%), with only 2 accelerated phase and 1 myeloid blast crisis. Risk stratification according to Eutos, Sokal and Hasford score was low in 92%, 67% and 80%; intermediate in 0%, 30% and 6% and high in 8%, 3% and 14%, respectively. Six different brands of generic imatinib were used (Cristalia, Instituto Vital Brasil, FURP, EMS, Fiocruz and Eurofarma); the most frequently used were Cristalia and Instituto Vital Brasil. The median number of brands used per patient was 2 (1-5). Patients received 400 mg of generic imatinib daily; the dose was increased to 600 mg in 4 patients due to sub-optimal response during follow up. The rate of hematologic response with treatment was 97% and median time to reach it was 1 month (1-7). The rate of response at 3, 6 and 12 months was 74%, 60%, and 92% for optimal cytogenetic response, and 69%, 61%, and 26% for optimal molecular response. The probability to reach deep molecular response at each year of follow up was 41% at 1st year, 52% at 2nd year, 46% at 3rd year, 50% at 4th year, 50% at 5th year, and 50% at 6th year. The probability to reach a molecular response 4.5 at each year of follow up was 10% at 1st year, 23% at 2nd year, 30% at 3rd year, 50% at 4th year, 50% at 5th year, and 50% at 6th year. Hematologic toxicities were frequent during the first three months of therapy. Reported non-hematologic adverse events were hypophosphatemia (62%), diarrhea (30%), cramps (30%), liver toxicity (28%), nausea (18%), bone pain (18%), edema (15%), rash (8%), and hypomagnesaemia (2.5%). Eight percent of patients evolved with deterioration of renal function during the treatment period, but its relationship with generic imatinib was not well established. Two patients (5%) needed a dose reduction because of adverse events. Eight (20.5%) patients switched to second line tyrosine-kinase inhibitors, five (13%) due to resistance and three (8%) due to side effects (severe hepatotoxicity, diarrhea, and rash). Three patients progressed after switching to another tyrosine kinase inhibitor. After a median follow up of 24 months, the event free survival rate was 80% and the overall survival rate was 100%. Conclusion: The rate of complete cytogenetic response, resistance, and intolerance after use of generic imatinib was not worse than the rates described in the long-term follow up of the IRIS trial (N Engl J Med 2017; 376:917-927). Deep molecular response rates seen in the cohort of patients on generic imatinib were inferior to the ones in the IRIS trial, but overall survival was not impacted. Hypophosphatemia was observed in a high percentage of patients, although it has not been reported in other cohorts on generic imatinib. Prospective randomized studies are needed to allow better conclusions regarding the comparative efficacy and safety of generic imatinib. Disclosures Figueiredo-Pontes: Novartis: Honoraria.

The emergence of vaudeville and, later, moving pictures coincided with a period of increased immigration to the United States and both relied heavily on ethnic stereotypes for material. This paper will examine some of the ways in which one particular ethnic group, the Irish, were represented on stage and screen in late nineteenth and early twentieth century America. It will attempt to tie the portrayal of Irish ethnicity into wider debates around the nature of audiences for vaudeville and early cinema, and the impact which these mass media may or may not have had on urban, working class, immigrant audiences. I will consider the extent to which vaudeville and early cinema might have functioned as assimilationist tools, not only in relation to newly-arrived Irish immigrants but also those joining the steadily increasing numbers of middle class Irish Americans.

Background: Calls have been made especially during a period of global competition and economic austerity for research that focuses on how competitive intelligence (CI) is actually generated within organisations.Objectives: The aim of this study was to understand the views and experiences of middle managers with regard to their role and contribution towards the CI process within Irish subsidiaries of the Multinational Corporation (MNC).Method: The study adopts a qualitative approach using the semi-structured interview technique to generate narratives and themes around how CI is generated using a sample of 15 middle managers drawn from five participating Irish subsidiaries.Results: Based on the analysis of the narratives of the middle managers, three main themes emerged as findings. Firstly, the process of gathering CI was facilitated by the reliance on internal and external tools. Secondly, information gathered from the use of such tools was then communicated by middle managers to top managers to inform the making of strategic decisions. Thus, (and thirdly), middle managers were found to occupy an important role not only through the execution of their management duties but by extending this influence towards the generation of information deemed to affect the competitive position of not just the subsidiary but also the parent company.Conclusion: The study concludes by focusing on the implications and recommendations based on the three themes drawn from the empirical data.

In the period from 1876, the founding year of the American Library Association, to 1924, the effective year of the National Origins Act with its quotas for immigrants, U.S. public libraries of the Northeast, the West, and the Midwest were busy organizing to serve the needs of the flood of millions of immigrants from Southeastern and Central Europe, Russia, and the Middle East.1 North Carolina did not receive any significant number of immigrants from this influx as they had earlier immigrants, including Germans, English, French, Irish, and Scots, from the seventeenth, eighteenth, and nineteenth centuries. By 1880, these former immigrants were now established North Carolina citizens who had been assimilated, or Americanized, the term used at in the early twentieth century, and spoke English, albeit in differing and sometimes colorful accents and dialects.

Fottrell was born on 6 February 1849 and educated at Belvedere College and the Catholic University, where he was president of the Literary and Historical Society. After training as a solicitor at the King's Inn Law School from 1865, he joined his father's firm of George D. Fottrell & Sons at 46 Fleet Street, Dublin. In 1872, he married Mary Watson, with whom he had one son and five daughters. He quickly established himself within Dublin's emerging Catholic professional class at a time when its influence over Irish public affairs was growing. Recent study of the Catholic elite of this period has demonstrated the importance of the university question to its ‘cultural and political awakening’. In educational matters, Fottrell was a secularist who wished to develop what he described as ‘a free and independent lay Catholic public opinion’. He was critical of reforms that tended to tighten the grip of ecclesiastical schools upon Catholic higher education and argued that sufficient funding for the Catholic University in Dublin was necessary to enable its graduates to compete on an equal footing with the predominately Protestant graduates of Dublin University. Alongside T.D. Sullivan and John Dillon, Fottrell took a leading role in the Catholic University's Bono Club, which aimed to create common ground between the ecclesiastical establishment and the educated laity, and Fottrell was assured by Cardinal Newman that You will be doing the greatest possible benefit to the Catholic cause all over the world, if you succeed in making the University a middle station at which clergy and laity can meet, so as to learn to understand and to yield to each other. In 1872, Fottrell tried to formulate reforms that might prove acceptable to both Protestant and Catholic opinion by proposing two universities for Ireland – the Queen's University and an amalgamation of Trinity College, Dublin and the Catholic University. He argued that Gladstone's University Education Bill, which proposed a single university for Ireland, would fatally damage the higher education of Catholics because it would denude the Catholic University of students. In 1879, he advised Gladstone to provide endowments for lay professorships in the Catholic University so as to enable Catholic students to escape the influence of ecclesiastical schools. Fottrell pursued his interest in Irish university education for many years, becoming an organizer of the Catholic Lay Committee of 1903 and publishing an influential tract on the subject two years later.

Iris hybrida hort. is one of the most common flower cultures in the world and is widely used in the design of spring landscape compositions. Researchers have confirmed the wide adaptive capabilities of representatives of the genus Iris L. under various climatic conditions, but a very limited number of varieties has been found in the green plantations of Kryviy Rih (steppe zone of Ukraine). It seems important to study the characteristics of the development of irises in our climatic conditions, taking into account the fact that over the past 30 years the average annual air temperature in Kryvyi Rih has increased by 2°C. The purpose of the research is to analyze the influence of the temperature factor on the generative development of Iris hybrida hort. during climatic changes in the steppe area of Ukraine. The objects of research were varieties of irises, which differed in terms of the beginning of flowering: early-flowering (beginning of flowering in early May), middle-flowering (second decade of May) and late-flowering (third decade of May). Passing of the phases of generative development (beginning of flowering, mass flowering and its total duration) for the last 17 years (2002–2018) has been analyzed. It was revealed that in conditions of the Kryviy Rih Botanical Garden, in 2002–2018, early-flowering Iris hybrida hort. began to flower on the average on 68th day of spring (on May 7), middle-flowering – on 74th day (on May 13), and late-flowering – on 80th day of spring (on May 19). In our climatic conditions, Iris hybrida hort. began flowering at various temperature indices: average daily temperature of air – from 9°C to 24°C, at the accumulation of the sum of effective temperatures above 5°С – for the early-flowering irises within 170-340°С, for the middle-flowering within 260 to 440°С, for the late-flowering within 310 to 500°С. Calculations of the regression dependence of the beginning of the flowering phase on the sum of effective air temperatures above 5°С showed the presence of a direct relationship of moderate degree (correlation coefficient is 0.48). A group of middle-flowering varieties was rather conditional and at the changes of weather, such varieties may correspond to early-flowering or late-flowering plants by the terms of flowering. The terms of the beginning of flowering of the middle-flowering and late-flowering varieties did not significantly change during 2002–2018, whereas early-flowering in the last five years began flowering 5–7 days earlier (April 28 – May 5) and reduced the duration of the decorative effect by 1.5 times. The middle-flowering varieties while reducing the total duration of flowering (by 1.2 times) for the last 17 years began to bloom massively at the end of the second decade of May invariably. The late-flowering varieties for the period of research do not show significant differences in the generative development, duration of flowering does not change in this group.

Introduction Cookbooks are an exceptional written record of what is largely an oral tradition. They have been described as “magician’s hats” due to their ability to reveal much more than they seem to contain (Wheaton, “Finding”). The first book printed in Germany was the Guttenberg Bible in 1456 but, by 1490, printing was introduced into almost every European country (Tierney). The spread of literacy between 1500 and 1800, and the rise in silent reading, helped to create a new private sphere into which the individual could retreat, seeking refuge from the community (Chartier). This new technology had its effects in the world of cookery as in so many spheres of culture (Mennell, All Manners). Trubek notes that cookbooks are the texts most often used by culinary historians, since they usually contain all the requisite materials for analysing a cuisine: ingredients, method, technique, and presentation. Printed cookbooks, beginning in the early modern period, provide culinary historians with sources of evidence of the culinary past. Historians have argued that social differences can be expressed by the way and type of food we consume. Cookbooks are now widely accepted as valid socio-cultural and historic documents (Folch, Sherman), and indeed the link between literacy levels and the protestant tradition has been expressed through the study of Danish cookbooks (Gold). From Apicius, Taillevent, La Varenne, and Menon to Bradley, Smith, Raffald, Acton, and Beeton, how can both manuscript and printed cookbooks be analysed as historic documents? What is the difference between a manuscript and a printed cookbook? Barbara Ketchum Wheaton, who has been studying cookbooks for over half a century and is honorary curator of the culinary collection in Harvard’s Schlesinger Library, has developed a methodology to read historic cookbooks using a structured approach. For a number of years she has been giving seminars to scholars from multidisciplinary fields on how to read historic cookbooks. This paper draws on the author’s experiences attending Wheaton’s seminar in Harvard, and on supervising the use of this methodology at both Masters and Doctoral level (Cashman; Mac Con Iomaire, and Cashman). Manuscripts versus Printed Cookbooks A fundamental difference exists between manuscript and printed cookbooks in their relationship with the public and private domain. Manuscript cookbooks are by their very essence intimate, relatively unedited and written with an eye to private circulation. Culinary manuscripts follow the diurnal and annual tasks of the household. They contain recipes for cures and restoratives, recipes for cleansing products for the house and the body, as well as the expected recipes for cooking and preserving all manners of food. Whether manuscript or printed cookbook, the recipes contained within often act as a reminder of how laborious the production of food could be in the pre-industrialised world (White). Printed cookbooks draw oxygen from the very fact of being public. They assume a “literate population with sufficient discretionary income to invest in texts that commodify knowledge” (Folch). This process of commoditisation brings knowledge from the private to the public sphere. There exists a subset of cookbooks that straddle this divide, for example, Mrs. Rundell’s A New System of Domestic Cookery (1806), which brought to the public domain her distillation of a lifetime of domestic experience. Originally intended for her daughters alone, Rundell’s book was reprinted regularly during the nineteenth century with the last edition printed in 1893, when Mrs. Beeton had been enormously popular for over thirty years (Mac Con Iomaire, and Cashman). Barbara Ketchum Wheaton’s Structured Approach Cookbooks can be rewarding, surprising and illuminating when read carefully with due effort in understanding them as cultural artefacts. However, Wheaton notes that: “One may read a single old cookbook and find it immensely entertaining. One may read two and begin to find intriguing similarities and differences. When the third cookbook is read, one’s mind begins to blur, and one begins to sense the need for some sort of method in approaching these documents” (“Finding”). Following decades of studying cookbooks from both sides of the Atlantic and writing a seminal text on the French at table from 1300-1789 (Wheaton, Savouring the Past), this combined experience negotiating cookbooks as historical documents was codified, and a structured approach gradually articulated and shared within a week long seminar format. In studying any cookbook, regardless of era or country of origin, the text is broken down into five different groupings, to wit: ingredients; equipment or facilities; the meal; the book as a whole; and, finally, the worldview. A particular strength of Wheaton’s seminars is the multidisciplinary nature of the approaches of students who attend, which throws the study of cookbooks open to wide ranging techniques. Students with a purely scientific training unearth interesting patterns by developing databases of the frequency of ingredients or techniques, and cross referencing them with other books from similar or different timelines or geographical regions. Patterns are displayed in graphs or charts. Linguists offer their own unique lens to study cookbooks, whereas anthropologists and historians ask what these objects can tell us about how our ancestors lived and drew meaning from life. This process is continuously refined, and each grouping is discussed below. Ingredients The geographic origins of the ingredients are of interest, as is the seasonality and the cost of the foodstuffs within the scope of each cookbook, as well as the sensory quality both separately and combined within different recipes. In the medieval period, the use of spices and large joints of butchers meat and game were symbols of wealth and status. However, when the discovery of sea routes to the New World and to the Far East made spices more available and affordable to the middle classes, the upper classes spurned them. Evidence from culinary manuscripts in Georgian Ireland, for example, suggests that galangal was more easily available in Dublin during the eighteenth century than in the mid-twentieth century. A new aesthetic, articulated by La Varenne in his Le Cuisinier Francois (1651), heralded that food should taste of itself, and so exotic ingredients such as cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger were replaced by the local bouquet garni, and stocks and sauces became the foundations of French haute cuisine (Mac Con Iomaire). Some combinations of flavours and ingredients were based on humoral physiology, a long held belief system based on the writings of Hippocrates and Galen, now discredited by modern scientific understanding. The four humors are blood, yellow bile, black bile, and phlegm. It was believed that each of these humors would wax and wane in the body, depending on diet and activity. Galen (131-201 AD) believed that warm food produced yellow bile and that cold food produced phlegm. It is difficult to fathom some combinations of ingredients or the manner of service without comprehending the contemporary context within they were consumeSome ingredients found in Roman cookbooks, such as “garum” or “silphium” are no longer available. It is suggested that the nearest substitute for garum also known as “liquamen”—a fermented fish sauce—would be Naam Plaa, or Thai fish sauce (Grainger). Ingredients such as tea and white bread, moved from the prerogative of the wealthy over time to become the staple of the urban poor. These ingredients, therefore, symbolise radically differing contexts during the seventeenth century than in the early twentieth century. Indeed, there are other ingredients such as hominy (dried maize kernel treated with alkali) or grahams (crackers made from graham flour) found in American cookbooks that require translation to the unacquainted non-American reader. There has been a growing number of food encyclopaedias published in recent years that assist scholars in identifying such commodities (Smith, Katz, Davidson). The Cook’s Workplace, Techniques, and Equipment It is important to be aware of the type of kitchen equipment used, the management of heat and cold within the kitchen, and also the gradual spread of the industrial revolution into the domestic sphere. Visits to historic castles such as Hampton Court Palace where nowadays archaeologists re-enact life below stairs in Tudor times give a glimpse as to how difficult and labour intensive food production was. Meat was spit-roasted in front of huge fires by spit boys. Forcemeats and purees were manually pulped using mortar and pestles. Various technological developments including spit-dogs, and mechanised pulleys, replaced the spit boys, the most up to date being the mechanised rotisserie. The technological advancements of two hundred years can be seen in the Royal Pavilion in Brighton where Marie-Antoinin Carême worked for the Prince Regent in 1816 (Brighton Pavilion), but despite the gleaming copper pans and high ceilings for ventilation, the work was still back breaking. Carême died aged forty-nine, “burnt out by the flame of his genius and the fumes of his ovens” (Ackerman 90). Mennell points out that his fame outlived him, resting on his books: Le Pâtissier Royal Parisien (1815); Le Pâtissier Pittoresque (1815); Le Maître d’Hôtel Français (1822); Le Cuisinier Parisien (1828); and, finally, L’Art de la Cuisine Française au Dix-Neuvième Siècle (1833–5), which was finished posthumously by his student Pluméry (All Manners). Mennell suggests that these books embody the first paradigm of professional French cuisine (in Kuhn’s terminology), pointing out that “no previous work had so comprehensively codified the field nor established its dominance as a point of reference for the whole profession in the way that Carême did” (All Manners 149). The most dramatic technological changes came after the industrial revolution. Although there were built up ovens available in bakeries and in large Norman households, the period of general acceptance of new cooking equipment that enclosed fire (such as the Aga stove) is from c.1860 to 1910, with gas ovens following in c.1910 to the 1920s) and Electricity from c.1930. New food processing techniques dates are as follows: canning (1860s), cooling and freezing (1880s), freeze drying (1950s), and motorised delivery vans with cooking (1920s–1950s) (den Hartog). It must also be noted that the supply of fresh food, and fish particularly, radically improved following the birth, and expansion of, the railways. To understand the context of the cookbook, one needs to be aware of the limits of the technology available to the users of those cookbooks. For many lower to middle class families during the twentieth century, the first cookbook they would possess came with their gas or electrical oven. Meals One can follow cooked dishes from the kitchen to the eating place, observing food presentation, carving, sequencing, and serving of the meal and table etiquette. Meal times and structure changed over time. During the Middle Ages, people usually ate two meals a day: a substantial dinner around noon and a light supper in the evening (Adamson). Some of the most important factors to consider are the manner in which meals were served: either à la française or à la russe. One of the main changes that occurred during the nineteenth century was the slow but gradual transfer from service à la française to service à la russe. From medieval times to the middle of the nineteenth century the structure of a formal meal was not by “courses”—as the term is now understood—but by “services”. Each service could comprise of a choice of dishes—both sweet and savoury—from which each guest could select what appealed to him or her most (Davidson). The philosophy behind this form of service was the forementioned humoral physiology— where each diner chose food based on the four humours of blood, yellow bile, black bile, or phlegm. Also known as le grand couvert, the à la française method made it impossible for the diners to eat anything that was beyond arm’s length (Blake, and Crewe). Smooth service, however, was the key to an effective à la russe dinner since servants controlled the flow of food (Eatwell). The taste and temperature of food took centre stage with the à la russe dinner as each course came in sequence. Many historic cookbooks offer table plans illustrating the suggested arrangement of dishes on a table for the à la française style of service. Many of these dishes might be re-used in later meals, and some dishes such as hashes and rissoles often utilised left over components of previous meals. There is a whole genre of cookbooks informing the middle class cooks how to be frugal and also how to emulate haute cuisine using cheaper or ersatz ingredients. The number dining and the manner in which they dined also changed dramatically over time. From medieval to Tudor times, there might be hundreds dining in large banqueting halls. By the Elizabethan age, a small intimate room where master and family dined alone replaced the old dining hall where master, servants, guests, and travellers had previously dined together (Spencer). Dining tables remained portable until the 1780s when tables with removable leaves were devised. By this time, the bread trencher had been replaced by one made of wood, or plate of pewter or precious metal in wealthier houses. Hosts began providing knives and spoons for their guests by the seventeenth century, with forks also appearing but not fully accepted until the eighteenth century (Mason). These silver utensils were usually marked with the owner’s initials to prevent their theft (Flandrin). Cookbooks as Objects and the World of Publishing A thorough examination of the manuscript or printed cookbook can reveal their physical qualities, including indications of post-publication history, the recipes and other matter in them, as well as the language, organization, and other individual qualities. What can the quality of the paper tell us about the book? Is there a frontispiece? Is the book dedicated to an employer or a patron? Does the author note previous employment history in the introduction? In his Court Cookery, Robert Smith, for example, not only mentions a number of his previous employers, but also outlines that he was eight years working with Patrick Lamb in the Court of King William, before revealing that several dishes published in Lamb’s Royal Cookery (1710) “were never made or practis’d (sic) by him and others are extreme defective and imperfect and made up of dishes unknown to him; and several of them more calculated at the purses than the Gôut of the guests”. Both Lamb and Smith worked for the English monarchy, nobility, and gentry, but produced French cuisine. Not all Britons were enamoured with France, however, with, for example Hannah Glasse asserting “if gentlemen will have French cooks, they must pay for French tricks” (4), and “So much is the blind folly of this age, that they would rather be imposed on by a French Booby, than give encouragement to an good English cook” (ctd. in Trubek 60). Spencer contextualises Glasse’s culinary Francophobia, explaining that whilst she was writing the book, the Jacobite army were only a few days march from London, threatening to cut short the Hanoverian lineage. However, Lehmann points out that whilst Glasse was overtly hostile to French cuisine, she simultaneously plagiarised its receipts. Based on this trickling down of French influences, Mennell argues that “there is really no such thing as a pure-bred English cookery book” (All Manners 98), but that within the assimilation and simplification, a recognisable English style was discernable. Mennell also asserts that Glasse and her fellow women writers had an enormous role in the social history of cooking despite their lack of technical originality (“Plagiarism”). It is also important to consider the place of cookbooks within the history of publishing. Albala provides an overview of the immense outpouring of dietary literature from the printing presses from the 1470s. He divides the Renaissance into three periods: Period I Courtly Dietaries (1470–1530)—targeted at the courtiers with advice to those attending banquets with many courses and lots of wine; Period II The Galenic Revival (1530–1570)—with a deeper appreciation, and sometimes adulation, of Galen, and when scholarship took centre stage over practical use. Finally Period III The Breakdown of Orthodoxy (1570–1650)—when, due to the ambiguities and disagreements within and between authoritative texts, authors were freer to pick the ideas that best suited their own. Nutrition guides were consistent bestsellers, and ranged from small handbooks written in the vernacular for lay audiences, to massive Latin tomes intended for practicing physicians. Albala adds that “anyone with an interest in food appears to have felt qualified to pen his own nutritional guide” (1). Would we have heard about Mrs. Beeton if her husband had not been a publisher? How could a twenty-five year old amass such a wealth of experience in household management? What role has plagiarism played in the history of cookbooks? It is interesting to note that a well worn copy of her book (Beeton) was found in the studio of Francis Bacon and it is suggested that he drew inspiration for a number of his paintings from the colour plates of animal carcasses and butcher’s meat (Dawson). Analysing the post-publication usage of cookbooks is valuable to see the most popular recipes, the annotations left by the owner(s) or user(s), and also if any letters, handwritten recipes, or newspaper clippings are stored within the leaves of the cookbook. The Reader, the Cook, the Eater The physical and inner lives and needs and skills of the individuals who used cookbooks and who ate their meals merit consideration. Books by their nature imply literacy. Who is the book’s audience? Is it the cook or is it the lady of the house who will dictate instructions to the cook? Numeracy and measurement is also important. Where clocks or pocket watches were not widely available, authors such as seventeenth century recipe writer Sir Kenelm Digby would time his cooking by the recitation of the Lord’s Prayer. Literacy amongst protestant women to enable them to read the Bible, also enabled them to read cookbooks (Gold). How did the reader or eater’s religion affect the food practices? Were there fast days? Were there substitute foods for fast days? What about special occasions? Do historic cookbooks only tell us about the food of the middle and upper classes? It is widely accepted today that certain cookbook authors appeal to confident cooks, while others appeal to competent cooks, and others still to more cautious cooks (Bilton). This has always been the case, as has the differentiation between the cookbook aimed at the professional cook rather than the amateur. Historically, male cookbook authors such as Patrick Lamb (1650–1709) and Robert Smith targeted the professional cook market and the nobility and gentry, whereas female authors such as Eliza Acton (1799–1859) and Isabella Beeton (1836–1865) often targeted the middle class market that aspired to emulate their superiors’ fashions in food and dining. How about Tavern or Restaurant cooks? When did they start to put pen to paper, and did what they wrote reflect the food they produced in public eateries? Conclusions This paper has offered an overview of Barbara Ketchum Wheaton’s methodology for reading historic cookbooks using a structured approach. It has highlighted some of the questions scholars and researchers might ask when faced with an old cookbook, regardless of era or geographical location. By systematically examining the book under the headings of ingredients; the cook’s workplace, techniques and equipment; the meals; cookbooks as objects and the world of publishing; and reader, cook and eater, the scholar can perform magic and extract much more from the cookbook than seems to be there on first appearance. References Ackerman, Roy. The Chef's Apprentice. London: Headline, 1988. Adamson, Melitta Weiss. Food in Medieval Times. Westport, Connecticut: Greenwood P, 2004. Albala, Ken. Eating Right in the Renaissance. Ed. Darra Goldstein. Berkeley: U of California P, 2002. Beeton, Isabella. Beeton's Book of Household Management. London: S. Beeton, 1861. Bilton, Samantha. “The Influence of Cookbooks on Domestic Cooks, 1900-2010.” Petit Propos Culinaires 94 (2011): 30–7. Blake, Anthony, and Quentin Crewe. Great Chefs of France. London: Mitchell Beazley/ Artists House, 1978. Brighton Pavilion. 12 Jun. 2013 ‹http://www.guardian.co.uk/artanddesign/interactive/2011/sep/09/brighton-pavilion-360-interactive-panoramic›. Cashman, Dorothy. “An Exploratory Study of Irish Cookbooks.” Unpublished Master's Thesis. M.Sc. Dublin: Dublin Institute of Technology, 2009. Chartier, Roger. “The Practical Impact of Writing.” Trans. Arthur Goldhammer. A History of Private Lives: Volume III: Passions of the Renaissance. Ed. Roger Chartier. Cambridge, Massachusetts: Belknap P of Harvard U, 1989. 111-59. Davidson, Alan. The Oxford Companion to Food. New York: Oxford U P, 1999. Dawson, Barbara. “Francis Bacon and the Art of Food.” The Irish Times 6 April 2013. den Hartog, Adel P. “Technological Innovations and Eating out as a Mass Phenomenon in Europe: A Preamble.” Eating out in Europe: Picnics, Gourmet Dining and Snacks since the Late Eighteenth Century. Eds. Mark Jacobs and Peter Scholliers. Oxford: Berg, 2003. 263–80. Eatwell, Ann. “Á La Française to À La Russe, 1680-1930.” Elegant Eating: Four Hundred Years of Dining in Style. Eds. Philippa Glanville and Hilary Young. London: V&A, 2002. 48–52. Flandrin, Jean-Louis. “Distinction through Taste.” Trans. Arthur Goldhammer. A History of Private Lives: Volume III : Passions of the Renaissance. Ed. Roger Chartier. Cambridge, Massachusetts: Belknap P of Harvard U, 1989. 265–307. Folch, Christine. “Fine Dining: Race in Pre-revolution Cuban Cookbooks.” Latin American Research Review 43.2 (2008): 205–23. Glasse, Hannah. The Art of Cookery Made Plain and Easy; Which Far Exceeds Anything of the Kind Ever Published. 4th Ed. London: The Author, 1745. Gold, Carol. Danish Cookbooks: Domesticity and National Identity, 1616-1901. Seattle: U of Washington P, 2007. Grainger, Sally. Cooking Apicius: Roman Recipes for Today. Totnes, Devon: Prospect, 2006. Hampton Court Palace. “The Tudor Kitchens.” 12 Jun 2013 ‹http://www.hrp.org.uk/HamptonCourtPalace/stories/thetudorkitchens› Katz, Solomon H. Ed. Encyclopedia of Food and Culture (3 Vols). New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 2003. Kuhn, T. S. The Structure of Scientific Revolutions. Chicago: U of Chicago P, 1962. Lamb, Patrick. Royal Cookery:Or. The Complete Court-Cook. London: Abel Roper, 1710. Lehmann, Gilly. “English Cookery Books in the 18th Century.” The Oxford Companion to Food. Ed. Alan Davidson. Oxford: Oxford U P, 1999. 277–9. Mac Con Iomaire, Máirtín. “The Changing Geography and Fortunes of Dublin’s Haute Cuisine Restaurants 1958–2008.” Food, Culture & Society 14.4 (2011): 525–45. Mac Con Iomaire, Máirtín, and Dorothy Cashman. “Irish Culinary Manuscripts and Printed Cookbooks: A Discussion.” Petit Propos Culinaires 94 (2011): 81–101. Mason, Laura. Food Culture in Great Britain. Ed. Ken Albala. Westport CT.: Greenwood P, 2004. Mennell, Stephen. All Manners of Food. 2nd ed. Chicago: U of Illinois P, 1996. ---. “Plagiarism and Originality: Diffusionism in the Study of the History of Cookery.” Petits Propos Culinaires 68 (2001): 29–38. Sherman, Sandra. “‘The Whole Art and Mystery of Cooking’: What Cookbooks Taught Readers in the Eighteenth Century.” Eighteenth Century Life 28.1 (2004): 115–35. Smith, Andrew F. Ed. The Oxford Companion to American Food and Drink. New York: Oxford U P, 2007. Spencer, Colin. British Food: An Extraordinary Thousand Years of History. London: Grub Street, 2004. Tierney, Mark. Europe and the World 1300-1763. Dublin: Gill and Macmillan, 1970. Trubek, Amy B. Haute Cuisine: How the French Invented the Culinary Profession. Philadelphia: U of Pennsylvania P, 2000. Wheaton, Barbara. “Finding Real Life in Cookbooks: The Adventures of a Culinary Historian”. 2006. Humanities Research Group Working Paper. 9 Sep. 2009 ‹http://www.phaenex.uwindsor.ca/ojs/leddy/index.php/HRG/article/view/22/27›. Wheaton, Barbara Ketcham. Savouring the Past: The French Kitchen and Table from 1300-1789. London: Chatto & Windus, 1983. White, Eileen, ed. The English Cookery Book: Historical Essays. Proceedings of the 16th Leeds Symposium on Food History 2001. Devon: Prospect, 2001.

Our interest in this subject reflects the popular interest in all food-related media, which appears higher than ever. In terms of our own special interest in relation to this issue of MC Journal—cookbooks—they continue to be produced and purchased at an unprecedented rate. Cookbooks have also recently attracted considerable scholarly attention. Their significance has been assessed in literary terms, as well as for what they say about women’s lives, the self, society, a particular historic period, national culture, and food making knowledge. The study of cookbooks has illuminated broad societal processes as well as intimate family memories. Equally, cookbooks are a wonderful example of material culture; they have historic and social value that make them important components of both institutional and personal collections. The cookbook itself, as an object, is also under transformation as the opportunities offered by new media and such changes in the publishing landscape as quality self-publication have expanded the possibilities of their use and value. This has, both been caused by, and prompted, a rethinking of traditional models. In proposing this topic we, therefore, set out to explore the multifarious meanings of cooking literature in contemporary society. Areas of investigation include: writing, editing, and publishing cookbooks; celebrity chefs and their cookbooks; and, cookbooks and the media more generally whether this be in relation to print, or television, blogs, and new, and social media. This brings up issues of the process of production—what we could call “the art” of cookbook making—how they are written, illustrated, and designed—and the creative careers of these makers. Cookbooks are also central to food heritage and national cultural history. Researching the professional biographies of their writers often involves adding new data and approaches to how we understand the past. These cookbooks are repositories of private and public memory and can also be explored in terms of the gastronomically inflected relationship between the information they contain, and what is (or is not) cooked and eaten. In the past, cookbooks formed the core of the domestic science curriculum, but their intent was to provide more than a blueprint for a meal. Cookbooks may not reveal what anyone eats or even how they cook, but they can provide a range of insights into everyday life, domestic and personal aspirations and community relationships. A regional cookbook, a junior cookbook, a cookbook on bush tucker, cookbooks for diabetics and vegans, not only appeal to a particular community, they also announce both its existence and celebrate the shared identity of its audience. In our feature article, Bronwyn Fredericks and Margaret Anderson discuss four recent examples of Indigenous Australian cookbooks, and their value as a low-cost strategy in broader interlinking public health interventions. Basing these books on western nutrition and food preparation models governed by public health initiatives clearly place the texts within the broader context of colonisation. In their analysis, the authors demonstrate the significance of cookbooks as a significant subject of inquiry, and we thank them for their work on this important topic. Other papers in the collection also concentrate on specific cookbooks as examples of historic change, changes in publishing and writing, and their use as well as their intent, which may not always be the same thing. How these texts are understood also changes over time, as Chairmaine O’Brien’s example of “plain” cookery (and “plain” cookery books) in colonial Australia demonstrates. O’Brien brings into question the description of plain cookery and its broader implications. Colonial domestic habits and the cultural contexts in which they were formed is also the subject of Blake Singley’s detailed analysis, using the manuscript cookbook of Phillis Clark. Adele Wessell, as a contributing editor to this issue, posits how it is possible to see cookbooks as history in at least two important ways; they give meaning to the past by representing culinary heritage and they are in themselves sources of history as documents and blueprints for experiences that can be interpreted to represent the past. Rachel Franks considers cookbooks and cookery in popular fiction, focusing on crime novels, showing the importance of food, clearly beyond its role as sustenance. Lorna Piatti-Farnell also considers the cookbook as a textual medium, in her case, a haunted space, using the example of Joanne Harris’s fictional treatment of the trans-generational cookbook in Five Quarters of Orange. Keeping with the theme of mourning, contributing editor Donna Lee Brien discusses food writing related to death and funeral rites as part of a broader tradition of special occasion cookbooks. Recipes do not directly translate to the time or place if their origins. As Jillian Adams argues, cookbooks contain information about the food culture and the society that produces them. Her failed attempt at making cheddar cheese from a historic recipe shows the effect of changes and adaptations to that change. Leila Green and Van Hong Nguyen ask how the everyday lives of Vietnamese street market cooks are (mis)represented in cooking books published for an English-language readership. Cookbooks can be understood as an educational tool for introducing foodways and cultures to readers, but they are also a means of maintaining existing power structures. Deana Leahy and Emily Gray make this point explicitly in their discussion of cookbooks as a pedagogical tool, and the increasingly levels to which governments intervene in the area of the health of its citizens. As Amy Brooke Antonio asserts, however, through her analysis of Pinterest, representations are never straightforward. As Antonio argues, there is also the potential for the empowerment which comes from the creation of virtual cookbooks, although these have also been charged with perpetuating a domestic ideology in which women have been confined to the home. Emily Weiskopf-Ball also suggests that cookbooks can be used to construct personal narratives, and reflect the bonds both between individuals, and across generations. Drawing from her personal use of recipes handed down through generations, Weiskopf-Ball discusses their heritage value as an alternative to their use as tools of oppression. Sue Bond’s paper on the evocative power of cookbooks in her task to reconstruct family stories also positions these texts as useful in writing memoir. Working within this tradition, Jim Hearn reflects on his own (food) memoir of being a chef to explore family histories and writing. Even cookbooks that embrace domestic femininity can also be used to celebrate and empower women, rather than simply provide instruction, as Carody Culver’s analysis of Sophie Dahl’s Miss Dahl’s Voluptuous Delights (2010) and Nigella Lawson’s How to be a Domestic Goddess (2000) illustrates. The use of humour and nostalgia to convey the recipes in these collections create distinct authorial personas and cultural ideas about food and femininity. Gender is also the subject of Rosalina Pisco Costa’s paper, in which she argues that cookbooks can become a means of encouraging men to do more domestic cookery. In the case of Portuguese middle class families, this has been, in part, facilitated by technological change and the transformation of the kitchen space. The alternate use of this space as an artist’s studio is the subject of Ulrike Sturm’s paper. Taken together, both articles explore the connections between space, place, and practice. Dorothy Ann Cashman uses Irish cookery manuscripts as a way of accessing voices that provide both an alternative to dominant narratives in Irish history, and as sources for culinary and cultural history. Pauline Danaher is also concerned with Irish culinary history, and her paper focuses closely on the textbooks used at the Dublin Institute of Technology, and how these reflect broader trends. Máirtín Mac Con Iomaire further affirms the value of cookbooks as socio-cultural and historic documents. His work in this collection is particularly instructive on approaches to reading cookbooks as historical sources, and the important influence that Barbara Ketcham Wheaton’s workshops are having in this space. Jen Longren discusses how the evolution of food blogs is just one part of the ongoing evolution of food-related media and recipe sharing technologies. She shows how food blogs provide a useful case study for understanding how our online and offline lives have become intertwined, as well as how the Internet has become a part of everyday life. Food blogs remind us that our relationships to food and technology, and our interactions with food-related media can help us understand the ways they both shape and reflect culture. Brigita Orel’s work on the possibilities in, and challenges of translating, recipes makes a contribution to our understanding of language and food, prompting questions about how well recipes can be translated across cultures, both in text and in their making. Her study of cookbooks as a means of expression is related to Moya Costello’s argument that what holds us to narrative is good writing. In Costello’s analysis, cooking, food writing, and wine making, are all forms of art. Nollie Nahrung’s piece reinforces Orel’s point. Using the language of cookbooks, inscribed with meaning through their reconstruction in montage, Nahrung’s contribution to this collection underlines how, far from being mere instructions for a meal, recipes in cookbooks can be read in multiple ways, and translate differently across time and cultures, and offer commentary from the personal to the societal level. Nahrung has also provided the wonderful cover image for this issue. There are many linkages between, and across, these articles. We hope our readers find a pathway through the issue that sparks their interest further in the subjects raised. A number of authors have included images in their work. This and the significant number of articles in this issue proves, yet again, the flexibility, expansiveness, and power of MC Journal’s digital publishing platform. As editors, we would like to especially thank all the authors and reviewers of this large issue. We were overwhelmed with abstracts, article pitches, and submissions, showing not only that this is a vibrant and expansive area of scholarship, but that there are a wide range of voices clamouring to be heard on the subject. We also sincerely thank the MC Journal team for continuing to support this wonderful venue for sharing ideas and scholarship, and especially Axel Bruns for his patient and generous support of new research, art, and the producers of this exciting material.

The Digital TurnMuch of the 19th century disappeared from public view during the 20th century. Historians recovered what they could from archives and libraries, with the easy pickings-the famous and the fortunate-coming first. Latterly, social and political historians of different hues determinedly sought out the more hidden, forgotten, and marginalised. However, there were always limitations to resources-time, money, location, as well as purpose, opportunity, and permission. 'History' was principally a professionalised and privileged activity dominated by academics who had preferential access to, and significant control over, the resources, technologies and skills required, as well as the social, economic and cultural framework within which history was recovered, interpreted, approved and disseminated.Digitisation and the broader development of new communication technologies has, however, transformed historical research processes and practice dramatically, removing many constraints, opening up many opportunities, and allowing many others than the professional historian to trace and track what would have remained hidden, forgotten, or difficult to find, as well as verify (or otherwise), what has already been claimed and concluded. In the 21st century, the SEARCH button has become a dominant tool of research. This, along with other technological and media developments, has altered the practice of historians-professional or 'public'-who can now range deep and wide in the collection, portrayal and dissemination of historical information, in and out of the confines of the traditional institutional walls of retained information, academia, location, and national boundaries.This incorporation of digital technologies into academic historical practice generally, has raised, as Cohen and Rosenzweig, in their book Digital History, identified a decade ago, not just promises, but perils. For the historian, there has been the move, through digitisation, from the relative scarcity and inaccessibility of historical material to its (over) abundance, but also the emerging acceptance that, out of both necessity and preference, a hybridity of sources will be the foreseeable way forward. There has also been a significant shift, as De Groot notes in his book Consuming History, in the often conflicted relationship between popular/public history and academic history, and the professional and the 'amateur' historian. This has brought a potentially beneficial democratization of historical practice but also an associated set of concerns around the loss of control of both practice and product of the professional historian. Additionally, the development of digital tools for the collection and dissemination of 'history' has raised fears around the commercialised development of the subject's brand, products and commodities. This article considers the significance and implications of some of these changes through one protracted act of recovery and reclamation in which the digital made the difference: the life of a notorious 19th century professional agitator on both sides of the Atlantic, John De Morgan. A man thought lost, but now found."Who Is John De Morgan?" The search began in 1981, linked to the study of contemporary "race riots" in South East London. The initial purpose was to determine whether there was a history of rioting in the area. In the Local History Library, a calm and dusty backwater, an early find was a fading, but evocative and puzzling, photograph of "The Plumstead Common Riots" of 1876. It showed a group of men and women, posing for the photographer on a hillside-the technology required stillness, even in the middle of a riot-spades in hand, filling in a Mr. Jacob's sandpits, illegally dug from what was supposed to be common land. The leader of this, and other similar riots around England, was John De Morgan. A local journalist who covered the riots commented: "Of Mr. De Morgan little is known before or since the period in which he flashed meteorlike through our section of the atmosphere, but he was indisputably a remarkable man" (Vincent 588). Thus began a trek, much interrupted, sometimes unmapped and haphazard, to discover more about this 'remarkable man'. "Who is John De Morgan" was a question frequently asked by his many contemporary antagonists, and by subsequent historians, and one to which De Morgan deliberately gave few answers. The obvious place to start the search was the British Museum Reading Room, resplendent in its Victorian grandeur, the huge card catalogue still in the 1980s the dominating technology. Together with the Library's newspaper branch at Colindale, this was likely to be the repository of all that might then easily be known about De Morgan.From 1869, at the age of 21, it appeared that De Morgan had embarked on a life of radical politics that took him through the UK, made him notorious, lead to accusations of treasonable activities, sent him to jail twice, before he departed unexpectedly to the USA in 1880. During that period, he was involved with virtually every imaginable radical cause, at various times a temperance advocate, a spiritualist, a First Internationalist, a Republican, a Tichbornite, a Commoner, an anti-vaccinator, an advanced Liberal, a parliamentary candidate, a Home Ruler. As a radical, he, like many radicals of the period, "zigzagged nomadically through the mayhem of nineteenth century politics fighting various foes in the press, the clubs, the halls, the pulpit and on the street" (Kazin 202). He promoted himself as the "People's Advocate, Champion and Friend" (Allen). Never a joiner or follower, he established a variety of organizations, became a professional agitator and orator, and supported himself and his politics through lecturing and journalism. Able to attract huge crowds to "monster meetings", he achieved fame, or more correctly notoriety. And then, in 1880, broke and in despair, he disappeared from public view by emigrating to the USA.LostThe view of De Morgan as a "flashing meteor" was held by many in the 1870s. Historians of the 20th century took a similar position and, while considering him intriguing and culturally interesting, normally dispatched him to the footnotes. By the latter part of the 20th century, he was described as "one of the most notorious radicals of the 1870s yet remains a shadowy figure" and was generally dismissed as "a swashbuckling demagogue," a "democratic messiah," and" if not a bandit … at least an adventurer" (Allen 684). His politics were deemed to be reactionary, peripheral, and, worst of all, populist. He was certainly not of sufficient interest to pursue across the Atlantic. In this dismissal, he fell foul of the highly politicised professional culture of mid-to-late 20th-century academic historians. In particular, the lack of any significant direct linkage to the story of the rise of a working class, and specifically the British Labour party, left individuals like De Morgan in the margins and footnotes. However, in terms of historical practice, it was also the case that his mysterious entry into public life, his rapid rise to brief notability and notoriety, and his sudden disappearance, made the investigation of his career too technically difficult to be worthwhile.The footprints of the forgotten may occasionally turn up in the archived papers of the important, or in distant public archives and records, but the primary sources are the newspapers of the time. De Morgan was a regular, almost daily, visitor to the pages of the multitude of newspapers, local and national, that were published in Victorian Britain and Gilded Age USA. He also published his own, usually short-lived and sometimes eponymous, newspapers: De Morgan's Monthly and De Morgan's Weekly as well as the splendidly titled People's Advocate and National Vindicator of Right versus Wrong and the deceptively titled, highly radical, House and Home. He was highly mobile: he noted, without too much hyperbole, that in the 404 days between his English prison sentences in the mid-1870s, he had 465 meetings, travelled 32,000 miles, and addressed 500,000 people. Thus the newspapers of the time are littered with often detailed and vibrant accounts of his speeches, demonstrations, and riots.Nonetheless, the 20th-century technologies of access and retrieval continued to limit discovery. The white gloves, cradles, pencils and paper of the library or archive, sometimes supplemented by the century-old 'new' technology of the microfilm, all enveloped in a culture of hallowed (and pleasurable) silence, restricted the researcher looking to move into the lesser known and certainly the unknown. The fact that most of De Morgan's life was spent, it was thought, outside of England, and outside the purview of the British Library, only exacerbated the problem. At a time when a historian had to travel to the sources and then work directly on them, pencil in hand, it needed more than curiosity to keep searching. Even as many historians in the late part of the century shifted their centre of gravity from the known to the unknown and from the great to the ordinary, in any form of intellectual or resource cost-benefit analysis, De Morgan was a non-starter.UnknownOn the subject of his early life, De Morgan was tantalisingly and deliberately vague. In his speeches and newspapers, he often leaked his personal and emotional struggles as well as his political battles. However, when it came to his biographical story, he veered between the untruthful, the denial, and the obscure. To the twentieth century observer, his life began in 1869 at the age of 21 and ended at the age of 32. His various political campaign "biographies" gave some hints, but what little he did give away was often vague, coy and/or unlikely. His name was actually John Francis Morgan, but he never formally acknowledged it. He claimed, and was very proud, to be Irish and to have been educated in London and at Cambridge University (possible but untrue), and also to have been "for the first twenty years of his life directly or indirectly a railway servant," and to have been a "boy orator" from the age of ten (unlikely but true). He promised that "Some day-nay any day-that the public desire it, I am ready to tell the story of my strange life from earliest recollection to the present time" (St. Clair 4). He never did and the 20th century could unearth little evidence in relation to any of his claims.The blend of the vague, the unlikely and the unverifiable-combined with an inclination to self-glorification and hyperbole-surrounded De Morgan with an aura, for historians as well as contemporaries, of the self-seeking, untrustworthy charlatan with something to hide and little to say. Therefore, as the 20th century moved to closure, the search for John De Morgan did so as well. Though interesting, he gave most value in contextualising the lives of Victorian radicals more generally. He headed back to the footnotes.Now FoundMeanwhile, the technologies underpinning academic practice generally, and history specifically, had changed. The photocopier, personal computer, Internet, and mobile device, had arrived. They formed the basis for both resistance and revolution in academic practices. For a while, the analytical skills of the academic community were concentrated on the perils as much as the promises of a "digital history" (Cohen and Rosenzweig Digital).But as the Millennium turned, and the academic community itself spawned, inter alia, Google, the practical advantages of digitisation for history forced themselves on people. Google enabled the confident searching from a neutral place for things known and unknown; information moved to the user more easily in both time and space. The culture and technologies of gathering, retrieval, analysis, presentation and preservation altered dramatically and, as a result, the traditional powers of gatekeepers, institutions and professional historians was redistributed (De Groot). Access and abundance, arguably over-abundance, became the platform for the management of historical information. For the search for De Morgan, the door reopened. The increased global electronic access to extensive databases, catalogues, archives, and public records, as well as people who knew, or wanted to know, something, opened up opportunities that have been rapidly utilised and expanded over the last decade. Both professional and "amateur" historians moved into a space that made the previously difficult to know or unknowable now accessible.Inevitably, the development of digital newspaper archives was particularly crucial to seeking and finding John De Morgan. After some faulty starts in the early 2000s, characterised as a "wild west" and a "gold rush" (Fyfe 566), comprehensive digitised newspaper archives became available. While still not perfect, in terms of coverage and quality, it is a transforming technology. In the UK, the British Newspaper Archive (BNA)-in pursuit of the goal of the digitising of all UK newspapers-now has over 20 million pages. Each month presents some more of De Morgan. Similarly, in the US, Fulton History, a free newspaper archive run by retired computer engineer Tom Tryniski, now has nearly 40 million pages of New York newspapers. The almost daily footprints of De Morgan's radical life can now be seen, and the lives of the social networks within which he worked on both sides of the Atlantic, come easily into view even from a desk in New Zealand.The Internet also allows connections between researchers, both academic and 'public', bringing into reach resources not otherwise knowable: a Scottish genealogist with a mass of data on De Morgan's family; a Californian with the historian's pot of gold, a collection of over 200 letters received by De Morgan over a 50 year period; a Leeds Public Library blogger uncovering spectacular, but rarely seen, Victorian electoral cartoons which explain De Morgan's precipitate departure to the USA. These discoveries would not have happened without the infrastructure of the Internet, web site, blog, and e-mail. Just how different searching is can be seen in the following recent scenario, one of many now occurring. An addition in 2017 to the BNA shows a Master J.F. Morgan, aged 13, giving lectures on temperance in Ledbury in 1861, luckily a census year. A check of the census through Ancestry shows that Master Morgan was born in Lincolnshire in England, and a quick look at the 1851 census shows him living on an isolated blustery hill in Yorkshire in a railway encampment, along with 250 navvies, as his father, James, works on the construction of a tunnel. Suddenly, literally within the hour, the 20-year search for the childhood of John De Morgan, the supposedly Irish-born "gentleman who repudiated his class," has taken a significant turn.At the end of the 20th century, despite many efforts, John De Morgan was therefore a partial character bounded by what he said and didn't say, what others believed, and the intellectual and historiographical priorities, technologies, tools and processes of that century. In effect, he "lived" historically for a less than a quarter of his life. Without digitisation, much would have remained hidden; with it there has been, and will still be, much to find. De Morgan hid himself and the 20th century forgot him. But as the technologies have changed, and with it the structures of historical practice, the question that even De Morgan himself posed – "Who is John De Morgan?" – can now be addressed.SearchingDigitisation brings undoubted benefits, but its impact goes a long way beyond the improved search and detection capabilities, into a range of technological developments of communication and media that impact on practice, practitioners, institutions, and 'history' itself. A dominant issue for the academic community is the control of "history." De Groot, in his book Consuming History, considers how history now works in contemporary popular culture and, in particular, examines the development of the sometimes conflicted relationship between popular/public history and academic history, and the professional and the 'amateur' historian.The traditional legitimacy of professional historians has, many argue, been eroded by shifts in technology and access with the power of traditional cultural gatekeepers being undermined, bypassing the established control of institutions and professional historian. While most academics now embrace the primary tools of so-called "digital history," they remain, De Groot argues, worried that "history" is in danger of becoming part of a discourse of leisure, not a professionalized arena (18). An additional concern is the role of the global capitalist market, which is developing, or even taking over, 'history' as a brand, product and commodity with overt fiscal value. Here the huge impact of newspaper archives and genealogical software (sometimes owned in tandem) is of particular concern.There is also the new challenge of "navigating the chaos of abundance in online resources" (De Groot 68). By 2005, it had become clear that:the digital era seems likely to confront historians-who were more likely in the past to worry about the scarcity of surviving evidence from the past-with a new 'problem' of abundance. A much deeper and denser historical record, especially one in digital form seems like an incredible opportunity and a gift. But its overwhelming size means that we will have to spend a lot of time looking at this particular gift horse in mouth. (Cohen and Rosenzweig, Web).This easily accessible abundance imposes much higher standards of evidence on the historian. The acceptance within the traditional model that much could simply not be done or known with the resources available meant that there was a greater allowance for not knowing. But with a search button and public access, democratizing the process, the consumer as well as the producer can see, and find, for themselves.Taking on some of these challenges, Zaagsma, having reminded us that the history of digital humanities goes back at least 60 years, notes the need to get rid of the "myth that historical practice can be uncoupled from technological, and thus methodological developments, and that going digital is a choice, which, I cannot emphasis strongly enough, it is not" (14). There is no longer a digital history which is separate from history, and with digital technologies that are now ubiquitous and pervasive, historians have accepted or must quickly face a fundamental break with past practices. However, also noting that the great majority of archival material is not digitised and is unlikely to be so, Zaagsma concludes that hybridity will be the "new normal," combining "traditional/analogue and new/digital practices at least in information gathering" (17).ConclusionA decade on from Cohen and Rozenzweig's "Perils and Promises," the digital is a given. Both historical practice and historians have changed, though it is a work in progress. An early pioneer of the use of computers in the humanities, Robert Busa wrote in 1980 that "the principal aim is the enhancement of the quality, depth and extension of research and not merely the lessening of human effort and time" (89). Twenty years later, as Google was launched, Jordanov, taking on those who would dismiss public history as "mere" popularization, entertainment or propaganda, argued for the "need to develop coherent positions on the relationships between academic history, the media, institutions…and popular culture" (149). As the digital turn continues, and the SEARCH button is just one part of that, all historians-professional or "amateur"-will take advantage of opportunities that technologies have opened up. Looking across the whole range of transformations in recent decades, De Groot concludes: "Increasingly users of history are accessing the past through complex and innovative media and this is reconfiguring their sense of themselves, the world they live in and what history itself might be about" (310). ReferencesAllen, Rob. "'The People's Advocate, Champion and Friend': The Transatlantic Career of Citizen John De Morgan (1848-1926)." Historical Research 86.234 (2013): 684-711.Busa, Roberto. "The Annals of Humanities Computing: The Index Thomisticus." Computers and the Humanities 14.2 (1980): 83-90.Cohen, Daniel J., and Roy Rosenzweig. Digital History: A Guide to Gathering, Preserving, and Presenting the Past on the Web. Philadelphia, PA: U Pennsylvania P, 2005.———. "Web of Lies? Historical Knowledge on the Internet." First Monday 10.12 (2005).De Groot, Jerome. Consuming History: Historians and Heritage in Contemporary Popular Culture. 2nd ed. Abingdon: Routledge, 2016.De Morgan, John. Who Is John De Morgan? A Few Words of Explanation, with Portrait. By a Free and Independent Elector of Leicester. London, 1877.Fyfe, Paul. "An Archaeology of Victorian Newspapers." Victorian Periodicals Review 49.4 (2016): 546-77."Interchange: The Promise of Digital History." Journal of American History 95.2 (2008): 452-91.Johnston, Leslie. "Before You Were Born, We Were Digitizing Texts." The Signal 9 Dec. 2012, Library of Congress. <https://blogs.loc.gov/thesignal/292/12/before-you-were-born-we-were-digitizing-texts>.Jordanova, Ludmilla. History in Practice. 2nd ed. London: Arnold, 2000.Kazin, Michael. A Godly Hero: The Life of William Jennings Bryan. New York: Anchor Books, 2006.Saint-Clair, Sylvester. Sketch of the Life and Labours of J. De Morgan, Elocutionist, and Tribune of the People. Leeds: De Morgan & Co., 1880.Vincent, William T. The Records of the Woolwich District, Vol. II. Woolwich: J.P. Jackson, 1890.Zaagsma, Gerban. "On Digital History." BMGN-Low Countries Historical Review 128.4 (2013): 3-29.