We humans are the only species that knows that we will die. One way to cope is by aiming for symbolic immortality, so that a part of us may live on after our death. There are many potential pathways; one is through one’s creative works. Creators need not be geniuses to have their contributions live on, however. Many Pro-c creators may join forces on a larger project; and smaller-c creators may pass their everyday creative efforts (memoirs, scrapbooks, recipes) to be cherished by future generations.

Chapter discusses practical things seen in her practice that make people afraid of dying. She offers tips from many of her patients who have died a peaceful, comfortable death. Don’t be afraid to talk about dying. Chapter explains 5 things that dying looks like. If we work through our fears, plan as best we can, and talk with our primary care provider about getting hospice in a timely way, we can die comfortably with a good ending and leave our family feeling peaceful about our death.

We have a choice of when and how to plan. We can choose to plan proactively or reactively. Optimal time to start is when you are young and healthy. Studies show a direct correlation between the quality of life of those who are suffering from illness or incapacity and their level of planning. Creating a clear and comprehensive plan is a gift to your loved ones. Estate planning is too important to be considered a “do-it-yourself” project. Principal estate planning documents explained: 1. Last Will and Testament. 2. Trust. 3. Power of Attorney. 4. Health Care Proxy. 5. Living Will. Chapter give strategies on the best estate planning through the decades.

This chapter explores the broader topic of creativity and positive outcomes, of which positive emotions are one. The other positive outcomes we focus on include socialization, personal growth, meaning/legacy, and flow. We first describe the various models of well-being that feature these outcomes, such as subjective well-being (SWB; Diener, 1984), psychological well-being (Ryff, 1995), flourishing (Seligman, 2011), and self-determination theory (Ryan & Deci, 2017). In the bulk of this chapter, we discuss the existing research in the creativity field related to each of these five outcomes. Major progress on this topic has been made in recent years, offering much to discuss.

This chapter looks at how and why Churchill has become such a divisive figure. It opens with a description of recent debates in the public discourse and on social media. It then briefly discuses Churchill’s reputation during his lifetime before recounting the role that he played in shaping his own legacy through his words, written and spoken, and through the creation of his archive and official biography. The authors then examine the long and complex historiography of Churchill, highlighting some of the most significant challenges to the dominant Churchillian narrative. Particular attention is paid to the more recent politicising of Churchill as a result of debates over Brexit, empire and race.

Just before his death, Hamlet bids Horatio “to tell my story.” However, immediately after Fortinbras's arrival, when Horatio wants to perform this task and “speak to the yet unknowing world / How these things came about”, Fortinbras interrupts him, claiming “some rights of memory in this kingdom” for himself, and commands his men to “Take up the bodies” and “Go bid the soldiers shoot.” These final moments of Shakespeare’s play initiate the dramaturgical process for future generations to recount the events which led to Hamlet’s death, reconsidering, re-enacting as well as resisting his and the play’s legacy in constantly shifting forms and constellations. This chapter reflects on how this dramaturgical process is established in the play itself bringing together theoretical issues of hermeneutics, text analysis and performance theory with practical, creative work in the theatre. Highlighting the performative link between virtue and virtuosity, dramaturgy connects research and practice and is designed to develop and enhance creative work in the theatre. The aim of dramaturgical analysis is to open up new dimensions for productions of classical texts, by illuminating these texts from innovative perspectives and laying the basis for integrative scenic images that can later be developed for stage interpretations of the text.

Guillaume Apollinaire is without doubt the most prolific French poet of the Great War. In addition to his major poetry collection, Calligrammes (1918), he wrote and published plays, stories, journalism, and criticism during the conflict. His writing is nothing if not wide ranging. He considered poetry a spiritual activity and an escape from the traditional classification of genre. He also believed there was no boundary between art and life – the two are inextricably linked – and, further, that art and life transform one another. This porous nature, not without its ambivalences and paradoxes, constitutes a major key to the interpretation of his work. The diversity and originality of his oeuvre, the trajectory of the author and the importance of his legacy help to explain how and why he became a poet of war in France, a country that ignored the tradition of 'war poets' that had developed in Great Britain.

The Coda addresses the multifaceted and diverse cultural memory of the war contained in and inspired by the poetry of 1914–1918. It reflects how the study of First World War poetry remains energised in the wake of the Centenary through the expansion of online resources which have made possible the cataloguing of an ever-increasing and diverse poetic corpus. Moreover, such digital, less-constricted access means that the twenty-first-century eyes that gaze back at that corpus are more diverse than ever before. Rather than a lieu de memoire, this History aims to be a springboard for ongoing scholarship.

Chapter 2 reviews the hippie movement’s history and ideology. Using the flower children metaphor often used to describe the hippies, the review relates to four periods labeled as seeding (1945–1964), sprouting (1965–1966), growing (1967–1969), and blossoming and withering (1970–1973). The hippie ideology is described according to five dominant ethics: dope, sex, rock, community, and cultural opposition. This chapter also summarizes the literature exploring where all the hippies went and what legacy they contributed to the world.

Socio-environmental research has a rich legacy. Scholarship has evolved to be more interdisciplinary, as long before. Sustainability science builds on von Humboldt, Marsh, and Meadows. Research on social–ecological systems research is informed by Ostrom; resilience by Holling; vulnerability by White, Sen, and Beck; and CHANS by Marsh and Moran. Ecological economics emphasizes the economy as a subset of the Earth, leveraging Ricardo, Jevons, and Daly. Ecosystem services research, informed by Ehrlich and Odum, quantifies benefits from ecosystems. Industrial ecology views industrial systems ecologically, as done by Graedel, Ayres, and Kneese. Political ecology focuses on power relations, as did Marx, Polanyi, Shiva, and Blaikie and Brookfield. Environmental justice, pioneered by Bullard, considers unequal benefits and harms. Other systems research focuses on a given context, as on cities (Childe, Mumford, and McDonnell and Pickett), land (Melville), and food (Liangji, Malthus, Boserup, and Ho). Integrated assessments build on Meadows. Planetary and Anthropocene perspectives focus on the global scale (see Hutchinson, Boff). Legacy readings can help frame socio-environmental relationships and enrich collaborations.

While scholarship and cultural commentary following Wallace’s death was laudatory, straying at times into the hagiographic, at a distance of over ten years, different currents in his legacy are emerging. As might be expected with the developing field of research into any author of such high profile, a second wave of more critical work followed that first wave of scholarship, grappling with problems and failures in the Wallace oeuvre once the work of establishing the field was complete. This exciting period in the growth of Wallace Studies focused particularly around Wallace’s treatment of gender and positions of racial and gender privilege occupied by his writing. This turn, which has enriched and enlivened the scholarly dialogue, anticipated by some years the resurgence of a conversation regarding Wallace’s personal behavior in relationships with women, but Wallace’s public reputation has also been deeply affected by this conversation. Picking up some of the themes identified in earlier chapters relating specifically to the writing, this chapter traces the development of Wallace’s critical and cultural legacy with reference to this confluence of conversations, discussing the emerging public imagination of Wallace as well as the evolving critical dialogue around the strengths and weaknesses of his work.

In the famous 1993 interview with Larry McCaffery, David Foster Wallace called himself “an exhibitionist who wants to hide.” It’s a quote that many Wallace scholars and fans can throw out at a moment’s notice as an example of Wallace’s endearing, self-deprecating wit. However, as self-effacing as that comment may seem, it nevertheless suggests concealment, contradiction, perhaps even deceit. For every aspect of Wallace on display, another remains hidden from view. Nowhere is this more apparent than in the way he constructs his biography in his writing. Through carefully selected details and statements in fiction, essays and especially interviews, Wallace crafts a literary and public persona that is very much at odds with (or a heavily curated version of) his actual life. Much of the backlash against Wallace and the various debates over whether he ought to be studied, taught, respected or outright canceled stem from the disconnect between the biography presented to his readership and the actual human who has emerged in subsequent biographies, memoirs, testimonials, archives and tweets that have made writing about Wallace a cottage industry in publishing.

As much as these paratexts may appear to carry more authority as more accurate depictions of the “real” Wallace, it is important to examine how these accounts are themselves constructed versions of Wallace grappling with Wallace’s (and at times the author’s own) place in a rapidly shifting literary and media culture. Discussion of the many constructed biographies of David Foster Wallace, including the likes of D. T. Max, David Lipsky, Mary Karr, Jonathan Franzen, Jeffrey Eugenides and more, would show how much literary culture has changed in the decade since his death and show how much David Foster Wallace is a distinct product of his own time and place. Wallace and Franzen may have believed that writers such as Pynchon and DeLillo had an easier, less public literary life than they did because “they made their bones in a different time,” but the past decade has shown that Wallace made his bones in a different time as well, to the extent that he would not have been able to craft such a persona free from public scrutiny (or the truth) today. In this regard, Wallace may truly be the last of his kind, part of an extinct breed: the last white male writer of the twentieth century, the greatest, male-est narcissist.

I see feminism as a commitment to the full humanity of all women and all men, and a dismantling of the patriarchal values that inhibit this.

My essay is interested in David Foster Wallace’s complex and evolving relationship with feminism and the feminine, as well as in how this relationship has been figured over time within the literary community. This investigation involves an account of how critical practices surrounding Wallace have transformed over the past decade—from readings that take as universal the “human being” of Wallace’s work, instead of reading it as emblematic of a particular nexus of privileged observer-positions, to intersectional readings that acknowledge Wallace’s embodiment as a white middle-class American male whose work reflects that embodiment in important ways, to, finally, #MeToo-era readings that foreground the actual misogynistic violence inflicted by Wallace in his personal capacity, which, morally and politically, would seem to foreclose the possibility of further reading and set up an existential crisis for the burgeoning field of Wallace Studies.

As I engage with each of these critical approaches in my essay, three central questions emerge. First: How has the history of feminism in America shaped Wallace’s work and its reception? Second: If feminism is “a commitment to the full humanity of all women and all men,” where does Wallace’s empathy expand in this regard and where does it break down, on the page and in the flesh? Third: In our present historical moment, does acknowledging Wallace’s ultimate betrayal of this commitment in the form of his abuse mean a complete disavowal of the author and the man—an end to the conversation, as it were—or is there space for the #MeToo movement within Wallace Studies?

This article examines the earliest rabbinic comment on Deuteronomy 32:36, which is part of Moses’s final words to the Israelites before he dies and they enter the Promised Land without his charismatic prophetic guidance. The Hebrew noun mitzvah and verb tzivah, usually understood to mean “commandment” and “command” (“enjoin” in NJPS) respectively, are understood in their biblical context and rabbinic explication to suggest as well the sense of passing something on at death as a legacy or inheritance. Whereas a commandment is usually understood as authoritatively imposed from without, a legacy is understood as something voluntarily received (transmitted) from within. The midrash suggests that at the age of 120 years, and unable to accompany the Israelites as they enter and settle the Promised Land, Moses can no longer command with authority but must cajole and implore with gratitude the Israelites in each generation to maintain the Torah through voluntary acceptance. In a striking scene, Rabbi Judah the Patriarch is depicted imploring his students in the same words as did Moses. By implication, the auditors of the midrash in each generation, down to the present, are similarly besought, with the greatness of the Torah and Moses being continually at stake.

This epilogue concludes the volume with an investigation of the legacy of William the Conqueror and his age in public culture, international politics, media, and social memory.

Benjamin Britten died before most of his closest friends and colleagues, so in one important sense his legacy ensured their participation in the continuation of the special contribution to local and national musical life represented by the Aldeburgh Festival. More than forty years after his death, that legacy remains a living force. It was a measure of Britten’s perceived significance in the years that passed between his death and his birth centenary thirty-seven years later that attempts to trace his possible impact on younger composers are often combined with critical perceptions concerning the many substantial publications about him. Collections of letters and diaries, biographies, overviews of the music, and more specialised studies of particular works have flowed in profusion at the same time. This examines Britten’s influence – or lack of influence – on, and his continued intersections with, successive generations of composers.