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Although Piero was criticised for his love of sports and footballing in the streets, sportsmanship – like cultural patronage – contributed to the soft power increasingly enjoyed by Renaissance rulers. Visits to the antiquities in the Medici palace and to the model farm at Poggio a Caiano formed part of diplomats’ tours of Florence, while the sports of horse racing and falconry provided invaluable items for gift exchanges with other rulers. So too did Piero’s famous Spanish runner Garzerano, who was regarded as a trophy (‘like some prince’, in the eyes of the royal court) when borrowed by Alfonso of Naples for his son.1 So if Piero’s sporting activities were unappreciated at home, they gave him more standing outside Florence than his critics may have realised.
Although Florence was where Piero lived and where his fate would be decided, he was nevertheless sustained by an extensive web of patronal, as well as banking, relationships that stretched outside Florence into its dominion and beyond, providing Piero with support from clients and supporters that helped to sustain him in his exile with a high price on his head. Through his great-grandmother Contessina, Piero was already in close contact with his Bardi relations in the Mugello and with old feudal families in Pistoia and Siena, and his father took care to nurture his role as patron and boss by introducing him early on to these client networks and teaching him through his own example. Like Lorenzo, Piero was called ‘master of the workshop’ to describe his role as boss – even if neither enjoyed the success of Giovanni di Bicci and Cosimo as bankers. Piero was appointed head of the Medici Bank in Pisa in 1489 (aged seventeen) under the aegis of his manager Giovanni Cambi, and he enjoyed a close relationship with his cousin Nofri Tornabuoni, who became manager of the Medici Bank in Rome, both cities of strategic and cultural importance that must have contributed to his political experience if not to his banking skills.
Using the unusually rich historical sources generated by the Tumu crisis, Chapter Four offers a reconstruction of Ming rulership in east Eurasia in the mid-fifteenth century. Chapter Four demonstrated that the fifteenth century’s first half saw a multigenerational, multifaceted competition among Mongol, Oirat, and Ming ruling elites to turn the Chinggisid legacy to their advantage. Each developed a genealogy or pedigree of rulership, which it advertised to its neighbors. The best-documented example, that of the Ming dynastic house, trumpeted the superior attributes of the rulership of Zhu Yuanzhang and his descendants. Just as emphatically, the Ming throne denied the qualifications of rival lords such as Toqto’a-Buqa and Esen. The Ming ruling family and its close supporters tried to persuade several audiences, including Jurchen chieftains, the Choson throne, and Oirat and Mongol leaders, of its historical vision of the past and the present.
Chapter 1 examines recruitment, looking at questions surrounding a postulant’s choice of convent and how they managed to travel there. The very foundation of each exile convent was based on national identity: these were, after all, English convents. Yet this insistence on Englishness did not only emanate from the women religious themselves but was fundamental to their gaining permission to establish convents in the first place. Nevertheless, it is argued that particular religious identities affected the process of joining a convent. It takes as its case study convent recruitment from the county of Essex to argue that women chose particular convents based on an interplay between home and abroad, as well as clerical and familial patronage. It highlights the effect of one clerical movement – the Jesuits – on convent recruitment patterns, yet these issues of competing spiritualities were not, despite first appearances, solely products of particular national contexts but part of wider developments in Catholic Europe. They show the formation of the English convents as part of the European – and even global – Catholic Reformation rather than presenting them as isolated national enclaves.
This article presents a qualitative empirical study of the impact of corruption and anti-corruption on the efficiency of China's bureaucratic system in developing a local economy. Drawing on 40 in-depth interviews and 98 days of participant observation, it first investigates the significance of extravagant position-related consumption in building personalized bureaucratic ties (patronage networks) and mobilizing resources for local economic development. It then examines the causal link between President Xi's campaign against corruption and extravagance and the rise of bureaucratic slack in local governments. The anti-extravagance campaign reduces the level of corruption in local government but it discourages local officials, who are motivated primarily by the desire to avoid risk and ensure political survival, from using banquets and gift-giving to build patronage networks, attract investment and mobilize development resources. The article concludes that corruption may contribute positively to the efficiency of a fragmented Chinese bureaucracy in fostering development at the local level, while the anti-corruption campaign compels local cadres to develop a new coping strategy – bureaucratic slack – for implementing policies and developing local economies.
This chapter is based on the correspondence from the now obscure Scottish architect, George Steuart to his aristocratic patrons, the 3rd and 4th Dukes of Atholl. The material is organised into two parts. Part one considers the precarious social and economic landscape in which professional Scots operated in London. Steuart’s dealings with Robert and James Adam, fellow Scots in London, will be shown to be far from convivial, when Steuart, who was a painter by trade, established a rival architectural practice in the capital. The second half of the chapter shifts from the metropolitan centre to the Highlands, to consider the modes of cultural exchange between them using Steuart’s involvement in the furnishing of the so–called Ossian–s Hall at Dunkeld as a case study. This section will engage with the ‘discovery of Scotland’ during the second half of the eighteenth century and its reproduction and dissemination in a variety of cultural forms, from domestic travel literature to Wedgwood china.
This chapter analyses US and European efforts at electoral support and observation via the concrete example of Jordan’s first post-‘Arab Spring’ parliamentary elections in 2013. It pays particular attention to the ways in which ‘democracy promoters’ and international electoral observers invest Jordanian elections with seeming democratic meaning and demonstrates that the latter is regularly at odds with the signification that such elections hold for most Jordanians. As such, the chapter suggests that international ‘democracy promoters’ working in Jordan fundamentally fail to take seriously authoritarian modes of governance in and of themselves. Instead of an example of gradual procedural progress, as suggested by international electoral observers and the Jordanian regime, the chapter argues that Jordanian elections primarily function as a means of authoritarian upgrading. The chapter also pays attention to the role of researchers-cum-electoral observers in the reproduction of narratives of Jordan as gradually ‘reforming’ and ‘liberalising’. As the very possibility of authoritarian stability is thus analytically ignored, the latter is effectively reinforced.
The music-theatrical benefit is an open acknowledgement of the role that audiences play in the economy of the musical and theatrical worlds. Ostensibly put on as a means to provide performers or other playhouse personnel with a direct reward from audiences, the occasions also serve as a means for performers to reward audiences for their attentiveness, fidelity, and participation throughout the season. To conceive of benefits without audiences is as impossible as it is to conceive of them without performers. As part of the panoply of patronal relationships common before and during the long eighteenth century, the benefit is still with us and plays the same role, notwithstanding the variety of ways in which we chose to cloak it these days. By examining the structure of who, when, where, how much, and how often, through examination of original archival materials, published correspondence, commentary in the London Stage volumes, and other sources, including both straightforward and satirical portrayals in poems, novels, plays, and cartoons, I examine the ecology of the benefit to reveal its extent, its boundaries, and its value.
In the four decades following the death of Tsar Nicholas I in 1855, long-repressed cultural energies broke loose across imperial Russia. The Great Reforms of Alexander II, which began in 1861 with the Emancipation of Russia’s serfs, introduced transformative changes in law, politics, society, the economy, and the army. Creative endeavor also stirred. Freedom was in the air, and artists and writers imagined it for themselves and for the nation. They developed new content and forms of expression and assumed greater control over their creative lives. By the end of the century, literature and the arts had rejected the unitary model of state-sponsored patronage and transitioned to become free professions, although funding from state and Church remained important. Simultaneously, print culture extended outward to a growing public. Part I treats the meta-theme of freedom and order by examining the how the Fools and rebellious heroes of tradition were modernized and harnessed to the topics of the day. Issues of inclusion and boundaries surfaced as lines between and among the legal estates blurred and civic participation broadened. Publics and audiences for the arts transformed, and expectations about the roles of artists and the arts changed accordingly.
‘Poetry and Restoration Ireland’ addresses one of the most fascinating but least-known aspects of the literary Restoration: the flourishing of poetry in and about Ireland. It focuses initially on the coterie surrounding Katherine Philips, who lived in Ireland from 1662 to 1663 and whose literary works – especially her play Pompey (1663) – gave rise to a small poetic industry in Restoration Dublin. It subsequently traces the later poetic activities of two key members of Philips’s circle: the earl of Orrery, whose devotional poetry represents an important intervention into Irish religious politics, and his kinsman the earl of Roscommon, whose translations, original poems, and literary relationship with John Dryden are reassessed for their political and national significance. Later sections survey responses by Irish poets to the political crises of the 1680s and 1690s, considering poems such as Luke Wadding’s A Smale Garland (a collection of Catholic devotional lyrics inspired by George Herbert), the aggressive Protestant Fingallian Burlesque (in manuscript and print recensions from the 1660s to the 1680s), and Ellis Walker’s translation of Epictetus’s stoic handbook, the Enchiridion. It also considers relationships between English and Irish literary publishing in this period.
This article focuses on the role of private patronage within the Church of England. Private patrons own advowsons. These property rights can no longer be traded but may still be bequeathed or transferred without value. When there is a vacancy in a benefice, a patron has the right to nominate a new incumbent in accordance with the Patronage (Benefices) Measure 1986. This article uses contemporary and historical records to define private patronage and analyse the current role of the four broad categories of private patrons: private individuals, educational bodies, guilds and patronage societies. While acknowledging the benefits that patronage can bring, this article advocates substantive reform for the future including a sunset rule for private individual patronage. The article suggests that reform of the law of private patronage will make a positive contribution to other contemporary issues before the Church by promoting diversity in vocations, facilitating necessary pastoral reorganisation and adding to the dialogue about the future of the parish system.
Chapter 4 reveals the extent of Maria Edgeworth's participation in a form of networked authorship borne out in interactions with her family, previous texts, reviewers, and readers, which can be discerned within her revisions to four of her major novels: Belinda (1801), Patronage (1814), Harrington (1817), and Helen (1834). Her post-publication revisions to Belinda and Patronage are linked, especially in the case of the latter, to her interest in scientific and scholarly knowledge and her struggle to moderate her didactic moralism. This book discusses, for the first time, an early fragmentary version of Harrington, which contained an anti-semitic first-person narrator, which was removed before publication. Edgeworth’s published version was a departure from her usual didacticism, which she attenuated once more in the 1825 edition. Her final novel Helen and her unfinished fiction Take for Granted attest to, perhaps more than any other novels in this project, their collaborative origins: they were influenced by her family and her readers at all stages of the composition process.
Significant variation in the institutions and efficiency of public bureaucracies across countries and regions are observed. These differences could be partially responsible for divergence in the effectiveness of policy implementation, corruption levels, and economic development. Do imperial legacies contribute to the observed variation in the organization of public administrations? Historical foreign rule and colonization have been shown to have lasting effects on legal systems, political institutions, and trade in former controlled territories. Imperial legacies could also explain variations in the performance of public administrations. The author uses the case of Poland to investigate the long-term effects of foreign rule on bureaucratic systems. Historically, Poland was split between three imperial powers with very different public administrations: Prussia, Austria, and Russia. Statistical analyses of original data collected through a survey of more than 650 Polish public administrations suggest that some present-day differences in the organization and efficiency of bureaucracies are due to imperial legacies.
This chapter argues that market metafiction has emerged as the vanguard fictional style of the post-financial crisis period. It begins by discussing the work of Tao Lin and Chris Kraus. The remainder of the chapter analyses two recent works of market metafiction that exemplify the paradigm, even as they register and contest differing financial and literary market logics. In Ben Lerner’s 10:04 (2014), attempts to deal with risk and uncertainty central to derivatives trading provide models for “hedging” between different forms of literary value, so that underperformance in market terms may be offset against critical approbation. In Teju Cole’s Open City (2011), meanwhile, the depredations of what David Harvey calls “the Wall Street–IMF–Treasury complex” are seen to be of a piece with the global publishing industry’s exploitation of images of African suffering. In his novel, Cole deliberately sidesteps these stereotyped and voyeuristic images, while at the same time acknowledging the privilege that permits him (now a relatively affluent and highly educated New Yorker) to perform precisely such a resistance to market-dictated convention.
Certain key themes, subjects and texts were considered to constitute a crucial educational foundation for an individual aspiring to achieve success in the court societies of the Persian Cosmopolis. This chapter argues that the character of this general education was deliberately ‘cosmopolitan’: based on a widely agreed canon of texts, both literary and scientific, whose importance was recognised across the Persian Cosmopolis. Rather than mere knowledge acquisition, the aim of this education was the formation of a specific type of disposition: a particular orientation towards the court society and towards the self. Underlying the external traits of this courtly disposition was a widely shared medico-philosophical understanding of the connections between mind, body and soul and the way in which the perfection of one, presupposed the engagement of the others. The implication of the body in the acquisition of knowledge and the perfection of the soul provides the rationale for directing attention to bodily practices and the influences of objects on bodies, a theme that recurs throughout this book.
One of the most crucial aspects of courtly life, in the Deccan, as elsewhere, was the ability to make friendships, enabling worldly success, movement to, employment at and escape from one court to another. This chapter examines the ways in which two individuals, Abd al-Karim b. Muhammad Nimdihi and Hajji Abarquhi managed to mobilise webs of interconnected networks that spanned the Persian Cosmopolis, in order to travel to, find employment at, and succeed at the courts of the Deccan sultanates. As well as networks, spaces and occasions for the demonstration and performance of friendship assumed a particular significance, and this chapter will examine one of these occasions: the majlis (courtly assembly).
This concluding Coda juxtaposes the market logics traced throughout the book with a form of exchange that is often identified as their antithesis: that of the gift. Focusing on Barbara Browning’s 2017 novel The Gift, it shows how this exemplary work of twenty-first-century market metafiction tries to imagine itself into an alternate economy of gift-giving. The Coda explores the tension, however, whereby the publication of this experimental text, with its Occupy Wall Street affiliations, is made possible by the “gifts” of the corporate and financial donors who support its small, nonprofit press. Rather than viewing this situation as a mere contradiction, however, the Coda suggests that it helps us to recognize that the creation of formally ambitious, “autonomous” works of literary art will always be incompatible with the purity of the gift, since such creation demands material and other resources accessible only via some form of financial backing or remuneration. The Coda suggests that a key challenge for cultural practitioners and critics in the twenty-first century is to imagine a less ends-focused, more democratic structure of support for the arts.
Capturing people, sometimes by taking relatives hostage, is a common practice for purposes of conscription and law enforcement in the Wa State of Myanmar. Given the unreliability of the local census, as well as the relative weakness of civil government, and registration in a de facto state governed by an insurgent army, the personal politics of capture provides a functional equivalent to state legibility. This personal politics operates based on the reorganization of personal networks between representatives of the military state and ordinary people: first, circles of acquaintances within the military state that provide access to local knowledge, and second, relationships of patronage formed on the basis of those new acquaintanceships, as well as connections of kinship and co-residence. Conscription by capture, however, also requires anonymity; that is, the passive non-recognition of mutuality with strangers and the active refusal of mutuality with acquaintances. This article describes the historical emergence of networks of acquaintances and relationships of patronage as a combination of Maoist state-building and local institutions of war capture and adoption. It demonstrates how conscription by capture relies on relationships of acquaintances and non-recognition, as well as on patronage and the refusal of mutuality. The politics of conscription by capture are contrasted with conscription in imperial states and contemporary nation-states.