This chapter invites consideration of Bloomsbury as the Biography group. It details Bloomsbury’s founding and defining contributions to the “New Biography,” particularly in theoretical and creative works by Harold Nicolson, Virginia Woolf, and the most influential British biographer of the past century, Lytton Strachey. Focusing its attention most carefully on the latter two, it explores how both Woolf and Strachey, as “spiritual” writers of the modernist age (Woolf, “Modern Fiction”), understood biography as a means of revealing personality, while diverging on some essential matters. Woolf, whose initial understanding of biography as an art evolved into a more subdued description of it as (mere) craft, anticipated that this aim might be accomplished through archival assiduity over time by a succession of fact-bound biographers, each bringing a different perspective to facts, old and new. Strachey, for his part, who always considered biography an art form, thought such an aim might be accomplished in the present, using fictional means to reveal both the personality of the nominal biographical subject and the personality of the biographer. This chapter finally reads Strachey as the most important progenitor of biographical fiction.

This chapter explores Bloomsbury’s engagements with the United States of America between 1900 and 1960. It analyzes the personal and published writings of various members of the group about American art, politics, and culture. While there is no cohesive “Bloomsbury” position on the USA, it at once fascinated and appalled them, from their university days until late in their lives. From Roger Fry’s tenure at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, until his falling out with J. P. Morgan, through the widespread outrage in Britain at the execution of Sacco and Vanzetti in 1927, and on to J. M. Keynes’ role at the Bretton Woods Conference in 1944 and Clive Bell’s 1950s lecture tours, the USA is a constant presence in their lives. Some welcomed the income that writing for American periodicals provided, while privately disdaining their readers. Others engaged with American politicians on the world stage in the wake of two World Wars. None of those who are associated with “Bloomsbury” held static views about the USA. This chapter explores how they refined and revised their opinions about it throughout the course of their lives.

What sort of thing are the narratives of the life of Jesus, literarily speaking? (History? Biography? Fiction? Myth?) And what bearing does their genre have on the manner of interpretation proper to them? This chapter attends to Origen’s account of the Gospels’ genre, literary precedents, and relationship to other forms of ancient literature in order to establish why he believes the Gospels cannot be read as transparently historical narratives. Here, I propose that the kind of narratives Origen believes the Evangelists compose is directly comparable to the stories one finds throughout the scriptures of Israel. Furthermore, Origen also relates the Gospels’ literary similarity to Jewish biblical narrative to the way they both share a similarly complex relationship to facticity. The Gospels, in sum, all narrate the deeds, sufferings, and words of Jesus “under the form of history”; these historical narratives are of a mixed character, interweaving things that happened with things that didn’t and even couldn’t, with an eye toward presenting the events recorded to have happened to Jesus figuratively.

This chapter is a description and analysis of the modern and postmodern periods and how they influenced theologians from a variety of traditions as they wrestled anew with the doctrine of Christ. In characterizing modernity as an era which celebrates universal reason and human progress, the author examines the ways in which modern theologians both chafed against and conformed to these insights as they developed their ideas about the person and work of Christ. Likewise, the author engages postmodernity as a disavowal of universal reason and progress, and thereby examines the manner in which these concepts were both rejected and embraced by various theologians as they sought to answer Christ’s question: “Who do you say I am?” within a postmodern era.

Corporate law, like all law, has a context; indeed, it has many contexts. To understand corporate law today, we need to appreciate the forces—social, political, economic, global and local— which shape that law. Modern corporations and contemporary Australian corporate law should be understood as a product of, and a compromise between, various social, economic and legal ideas and philosophies. This is the focus of the first two chapters of this book.

In this chapter, we ask the reader to temporarily postpone the quest for a more detailed explanation of the legal concepts that are introduced. We will come back to examine these concepts in detail elsewhere in the book.

In his chapter, Luke Gibbons examines artists and writers who take up the subject of the “great scar” of the Civil War, and in their work he finds silence, misdirection, and the kind of temporal indeterminacies that are characteristic of so much revivalist cultural production. By examining literary and cinematic works by Louis D’Alton, Liam O’Flaherty, John Ford, and Dorothy McCardle, Gibbons argues that temporal discontinuity has a positive role to play by reactivating that which history has deactivated. Civil War literature invites the reader to go beyond the surface realism of the text in a way that provides an opening to the real, which in Lacanian terms is foreclosed and mapped over by imaginary constructs. Gibbons’s consideration of Irish literature and film strongly suggests an alternative to conventional realist accounts beholden to historical causality, a way of reading the temporal discontinuity in way that offers a fresh perspective on the trauma of the Civil War.

In this chapter, we offer an overview of the rich history of research on careers and career counseling. We review theories throughout history starting from the late nineteenth century to modern theories of work. We also discuss changes in theories of careers and vocation in light of technology and globalization in the twenty-first century. This chapter provides the foundational overview of the scholarly literature, thus setting the stage for the narratives in the bulk of the book.

The work of the first four chapters demonstrates that Nietzsche’s genealogical accounts can liberate us from our moral prejudices by exposing and bringing to light: that our experience is ordered by evaluative templates; how one framework came to subdue other alternatives; why morality enjoyed its factual success; and why it still holds a very tight grip on us. The work of Chapter 5 is to substantiate these conclusions. I achieve this end by way of my reading of “the psychological type of the redeemer,” which shows the links between On the Genealogy of Morality and The Anti-Christ. After clarifying what the type is, I argue that, thus understood, it enables us to notice that Nietzsche uses genealogical methods beyond 1887 and to better appreciate the central roles that feelings of shame and powerlessness, as well as longings for efficacy, play in conceptual reevaluations. Although this reading does not represent a common interpretive strategy, I show that it is one that Nietzsche himself recommends.

History is challenging for learners as it concerns something that no longer exists – the past. Yet, as Christopher Portal reminds us, ‘in another sense, of course, the past is not dead at all; it exists through the ways in which we understand the past, and in the personal, cultural and intellectual inheritance we each have’. Our connections with the past can vary from engaging with family members’ recollections, photographs and memorabilia to viewing historical dramas on television and mobile devices. Reading historical fiction, visiting museums or observing a public commemoration such as an Anzac Day march or a National Sorry Day event can also prompt interest in finding out more about the past. This chapter draws from research to consider how teaching and learning in History in the sub-strand of the Australian Curriculum: HASS F–6 v9.0 can enable young people to investigate the traces of the past in authentic and meaningful ways. Making sense of the past, and learning how to think critically about it, empowers young people to relate history to their lives in the 21st century and better prepares them to be informed, confident and active citizens.

This chapter explores the history of sound system and emcee culture. Originating in Jamaica, during the 1950s, the sound system has spawned numerous multi-billion dollar generating genres, including electronic dance music and hip-hop. The chapter outlines the contribution that figures such as Clement Dodd, Duke Reid, and Prince Buster made to the emergence of dancehall culture and the innovations of Count Machuki and U-Roy to the development of emceeing. It goes on to examine the role that sound system culture played in the birth of hip-hop, and the movement of artists from Jamaica, the United States and the UK, across the Atlantic, which has produced an outernational sound. The chapter reveals the ongoing significance of dubplates to garage music, clashing in grime, and riddims throughout the history of hip-hop culture. The chapter concludes with a consideration of the influence of the sound system on popular music culture across the globe.

Having established that evaluative systems – such as Judeo-Christian morality, currently the predominant value system in the West – order our lives, in this chapter I examine their lineage. Given that our value systems are the products of dynamic struggles for superiority, I argue that their descent is traceable along historical and sociopolitical lines. Attending to these rather messy agonal processes, the descent of our value systems is accounted for without the need to appeal, as some have, to context-transcendent human types, or certain configurations of the drives. Finally, I close with some considerations on how conceptualizing the descent in this way provides further contours to our understanding of the method of genealogical investigation.

A sense of curiosity and active citizenship can be nurtured in children from a young age. Through a range of immersive and place-based experiences, children can start to make sense of the world around them and demonstrate their social agency. The Australian Curriculum: History focuses on developing an awareness of key features of family and local history and community heritage from Foundation to Year 2. Its key purpose is to make early historical inquiry meaningful, memorable, creative and exploratory. Civics and Citizenship education can help to provide opportunities for children to express their ideas and understand their communities. A dynamic, multiperspectival and affective understanding of the past, and its relationship with the present, is essential in a democracy.