This chapter outlines musical orality and musical literacy in the modes of transmission of musical traditions, knowledge and skills within the double island nation Trinidad and Tobago. It begins with a brief outline of some wider music educational tendencies which can in turn provide a lens through which to view music educational policy and practice in Trinidad and Tobago. This is followed by a discussion of some of the central music-making practices found there, their historical foundations, current performance, and respective accompanying manifestations of musical orality and musical literacy in their transmission.

The introduction sets out the chronological and geographical frame as well as the main issues in the study of the ancient Greek economy. It is targeted at a readership with no prior knowledge of the ancient economy and emphasises the importance of understanding economic structures, economic change, and the causes for change. As research on the ancient economy is dependent on theoretical assumptions about the nature and causation of economic change, a special section of the Companion is devoted to the discussion of the most important theoretical approaches to the ancient Greek economy. Other sections treat key themes of the ancient Greek economy, such as taxation, money, markets and labour regimes, as well as network approaches that are currently at the centre of research on ancient economies. A chronologically narrow but geographically wide perspective is taken on the Greek economy, including the Hellenistic economies in Egypt and the Near East but excluding Greek economies in the western Mediterranean and those in the eastern Mediterranean that continued to be dominated by Greek language and culture and therefore still might be termed Greek under the Roman Empire.

Plato’s dialoguesespecially the Republiclead us to wonder what the objects of mathematics are. For Plato, no perceptible three is unqualifiedly three, a necessary condition for being an object of knowledge. Aristotle controversially ascribes to Plato the view that mathematical objects are “intermediates,” between perceptibles and Forms: multiple but also eternal, lacking change, and separate from perceptibles. The hunt for or against intermediates in Plato’s dialogues has depended on two ways of understanding Plato on scientific claims, a Form-centric approach and a subject-centric (semantic) approach. Although Socrates does not present intermediates in the Republic, it is difficult to see how the units of the expert arithmetician or motions of the real astronomer could be simply Forms or perceptibles. The standard over-reading of the Divided Line, where the middle sections are equal, further obscures our understanding. The Phaedo and the Timaeus provide candidates for mathematical objects, although these have only some of the attributes ascribed to intermediates. We are left with no clear answer, but exploring options may be exactly what Plato wants.

Although the motif of the book of nature is an ancient one, it continues to shape our cultural imagination in important ways, not least with respect to how we understand the relationship of science and religion and how we comport ourselves to questions of environmental ethics. Until its early modern transposition into the language of mathematics, the book of nature or liber naturae tradition formed the dominant approach to the interpretation of nature and creation within premodern Christian traditions. At the heart of the premodern idea of the book of nature stood a recognition of the entwined relationship between interpretive practices for the contemplative reading of sacred texts and those for making sense of nature. While this contemplative dimension falls to the wayside in many prominent modern appeals to the book of nature, especially those we associate with early modern science, it later reappears in popular transatlantic forms Christian piety, Romanticism, and nature writing, and arguably plays a significant role in the mediation of the novel moral intuitions about nature we associate with modern environmentalism.

This chapter explores the politics of world music through an analysis of konpa and zouk. The first section provides overviews of both genres, carefully emphasising their creole beginnings. The second section focuses on how globalisation and ‘world music’ marketing have individually and collectively impacted on the two genres over the years.

Schlock horror is excessive, gore-filled, aiming for great effects and intense emotions. It might harbor pretentions to deadly seriousness, but cannot achieve its aim. It usually fails, because something rings untrue, too silly, be it the acting, the scriptwriting, the sets, the too-bright red blood. Schlocky horror has long been a part of the genre, but its presence waxes and wanes across time, according to technological demands within the culture industry or vagaries of fashion. Reversals occur. Artworks that were designed more or less earnestly might come to be seen as schlocky, while artworks designed to become cult objects of bad taste might find themselves elevated into the zone of high art. Any consideration of schlock benefits from an assessment of the longer history of its associated (anti)-aesthetic terms: kitsch and camp – in order to discern how various cultural critics have derived social and political and other meaning from what are often disdained productions.

This chapter examines the way two related genres, science fiction (SF) and the weird, deploy horror to critique the sources and expressions of “American horror” – namely, the dark side of American exceptionalism and the social and environmental consequences of its imperialist projects. The two genres share similar generic genealogies, but they diverge teleologically. SF is built on the assumptions of scientific rationalism and therefore follows an identifiable internal logic, relying on our implicit or explicit belief in the plausibility of the story. The weird, by contrast, is resolutely committed to the inexplicable. Both, however, use horror to disrupt our reliance on realist modes of representation that flatter our epistemological certainties. As such, both SF and the weird have been platforms for colonialist and nationalist imaginations, but both have also been potent vehicles for revealing, resisting, and repairing the brutalities of such imaginations.

Early studies on the grain trade in Rome and the Greek cities, and control of disorder that might follow breaks in supply, extended in the 1980s to patterns of agricultural production, fish supplies, and fish-processing, the latter based on a substantial archaeological record. Patterns of storage and consumption have been explored in tableware, drinking vessels, and in the ceramic and silverware record. Archaeology in recent years has extended valuably to botanical and zoological remains. An understanding of ancient mentalities, first developed in France, has opened up the thought world within which food and wine were consumed: the religious and mythological patterns and ideologies behind the symposium, meat consumption in temple precincts and other venues of consumption, much recorded in inscriptions on stone. This chapter reviews the evidence, emphasising the contribution of ancient writers on nutrition.

This chapter shifts the discussion of globalisation onto Jamaica’s reggae and dub musics, introducing readers to an international network of sound system cultures that, by borrowing upon Jamaica’s history of musical innovation and Rasta ideology, helped to create subgenres based around more localised notions of inclusivity. Through this analysis, the chapter provides a chronological deconstruction of globalisation, introducing some of the ideological and musical features of Jamaican reggae and dub that became pulled into the commercialised ‘global pop’ margins through these sub-genres.

Religious networks were part of the Ancient Greek economy and formed the basis of the Greek expansion in the Mediterranean. From the archaic period onwards, emporia and port cities were cosmopolitan environments in which different rituals and cults coexisted. Sanctuaries hosted cults, which often supported the activity of traders, but they were themselves economic centers under the authority of Greek cities. The property of the gods soon became the basis of economic development, including building activity, lending, and renting practices. As business units, Greek sanctuaries easily attracted large numbers of people, especially during religious festivals. They facilitated the development of commercial activities thanks to their financial capacity. The interactions of a sanctuary thus created several forms of sociability not limited to trade with the gods. Through several institutional mechanisms, as for instance asylia, many Greek cities were able to make their sanctuaries protected places where common codes of behavior applied to all participants. Myths and cults also supported the initiatives of cities to build new networks.

Is all horror “body horror”? Can we think of the horror genre without thinking about the body’s messy and intimate materiality? This chapter looks at some of the queasier manifestations of horror culture, a mode that foregrounds questions of the body’s (and the reader’s or viewer’s) limits. Despite body horror’s association with recent cinema, this chapter argues for a longer and more diverse lineage for the term, an attention to embodied experience and its grotesque transformations that can be found in US fiction from Charles Brockden Brown’s spontaneous combustions in Wieland (1798) through to the zombie apocalypse novels of the twenty-first century. The emphasis is placed on five main types of body horror and their differences: hybrid corporeality, parasitism, abjection and disgust, the grotesque, and, finally, body horror built around gore and the explicit rendering of violence.

It is generally agreed in social scientific scholarship that federal institutions promote efficiency and economic growth in the modern world. This chapter asks whether the same case can be made for antiquity. Political scientists and economists recognize three major mechanisms by which federal institutions promote economic growth: decentralized fiscal decision-making that incentivizes the adoption of policies enhancing local economies; high redistributive capacity that can direct resources where they are most needed; and reliance on local revenues that encourages local governments to invest in public goods that enhance market activity. Although there is some evidence to suggest that these each of these institutional arrangements existed in antiquity, it is argued that there is simply not enough evidence to demonstrate that they did, in fact, lead to economic growth in the ways that the modern theory of fiscal federalism predicts. The chapter then explores several different ways in which federal institutions may have led to economic growth in the case of Greek antiquity – regional property rights and the pooling of complementary resources, shared currency, and enhanced diplomatic power – while cautioning that there is no evidence to prove that there was a causal link between any of these practices and actual economic growth.

Greek agriculture took place within a largely Mediterranean regime of annual, dry-farmed grains and pulses, alongside perennial vines and olives. Hesiod’s Works and Days, Xenophon’s Oeconomicus, the Attic orators, inscriptions, intensive survey, and comparative data from before 1950 form the main evidence. The agricultural year centred around winter sowing and summer harvest. Scholars propose two competing models of agriculture. Extensive agriculture used draft animals and biennial fallow and was more suited to at least mid-sized holdings, nucleated settlement, and transhumant livestock. Intensive agriculture required greater hand-cultivation and was suited to smaller plots, dispersed settlement, and mixed farming to provide year-round animal manure. High risk of crop failure made intensification, diversification, and storing a ‘normal surplus’ a rational subsistence strategy for smaller landowners. However, there is also evidence for connectivity and production for market. Debates over agricultural slavery, settlement, and possible intensification from the fifth century BCE intersect with the question of market participation.