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Employees who overvalue work over other dimensions of their lives have always been appreciated by organizations. Thus, this study aims to present the analyses of work passions, workaholism and burnout in a Portuguese sample of health and non-health professionals. 437 employees from different professionals’ areas (health institutions and others), composed by females (n \(=\) 332; 75.3%) with a mean age of 38, 58 years old. The results show that the health professionals experience more harmonious passion and have symptoms of burnout. Understanding the work passion of professionals are a very important issue to give tools to reduce occupational diseases.

The chapter analyses the Hobbesian conception of glory. This passion embodies the tendency for empowerment and social competition of the modern self whose motive will be defined as the “desire for recognition”. Hobbes places at the core of his analysis of the human passions the need for recognition, conceived as a never-satisfied desire, as it depends on an endless escalation in the quest for power: the glorious self asks the other self to be recognized as superior, but is unwilling to meet the equivalent request from his partners. Increasingly dependent on the confirmations of others, the individual consciousness is condemned to a condition of distressing anxiety and insecurity about its own value. A conflict of “social unsociability” arises and drags all human beings in a restless competition for honours, which produces an endemic state of mental war. My investigation is guided by the relation that links the question of glory and war. Particularly, I try to show how Hobbes exemplarily captured the “dark side” of the struggle for recognition. At the same time, my reading highlights the ambivalences of the Hobbesian argument that seem to open up glimpses towards a more positive reconsideration of the passion which will become the leitmotif of Kojeve’s rehabilitation of the Hobbesian glory.

This chapter charts the prominence of democracy as a concern across theatre and performance in the 2010s and proposes an affective turn in the discipline’s examination of texts and performances dealing with democratic matters. Building upon recent contributions on democratic theory, passions and populism, Delgado-Garcia suggests probing what democracy feels like, the function and effects of such feelings and the ways theatre may compose, diffuse or suppress affects. David Greig’s The Suppliant Women (2016) is presented as a model for such an enquiry and offered as representative of a broader stance in British theatre, whereby a strong attachment to democracy is performed despite the negative affective and material states democracy is shown to produce and legitimate.

With the question of why we are here and in conversation with great civilizations, This chapter sets the stage for explaining the meaning of civility and civilization production. The author contrasts civilization with empire, the former requiring caring about and caring for fellow human beings. The chapter focuses on identifying the constellation of the attitudes, activities, and actual spaces that translate into the mind-set, habits of mind, and institutions and structures. Specifically, they relate to how human beings define the good, the impulses that motivate them (satisfaction, achievement, serenity), what passions they require (freedom, reason, love), which apparatus can manifest them (heart, mind, soul), what ethical norms needed (consequential, contractual, virtuous), what do they display (conviviality, allure, balance), and what pillars do they form (presence, ethos, theater). It is their coming together that produces a condition of concomitant, comprehensive, and convivial values, the author calls, civilization.

Marin Cureau de La Chambre is generally considered to be a lesser figure on the intellectual landscape of seventeenth century France, best known for his theory of instinct, animal cognition, and the passions. In this paper, my principal aim is to examine Cureau’s thoughts about the vegetative powers, based on his only work in which he touched upon this subject: The System of the Soul (1664). In that work, Cureau offers a general explanation of how cognition works in living creatures, and – rather unusually – he attributes cognition to every living thing, including plants. Even more unusually, perhaps, he offers an analogical explanation of how orderly and goal-directed inanimate processes might occur in nature, but he claims that here we are only dealing with “the shadow of cognition”. In providing an account of Cureau’s ideas about the vegetative powers, I shall outline his general theory of cognition, based on images; then I will contrast the workings of the vegetative soul with those of the higher order souls; and finally I shall explain the difference between the animate and the inanimate parts of nature, arguing for the conclusion that Cureau wanted to navigate between what was perceived as the Aristotelian tradition and the “moderns” of seventeenth century science, siding more with the latter in attributing a greater independence of the created universe from its Creator.

Victorian pawnbrokers and policymakers found themselves balancing competing priorities concerning small-time capitalism and financial regulation. Pawnbrokers had long sought societal acceptance as respectable businesspeople, detractors suggested they preyed on the irrational and immoral passions of the ‘degenerate’ poor. Others considered that pawn credit provided security from insufficient and irregular wages and encouraged parliament to free them from heavy-handed regulation. With loan volumes approaching 230 million annually, much was at stake. Whether they liked the industry or not, Parliamentarians of all stripes recognized that the poor had few other borrowing options. Since lawmakers were uninterested in dealing with the root causes of poverty, or offer an alternative lending source, they eased certain regulatory burdens to help ensure a viable and profitable pawnbroking market.

Charles Robert Maturin’s most famous novel, Melmoth the Wanderer is one of the most epigenetic of all of these texts in that it foregrounds the intimate connection between conception and writing and weaves a tale that displays Gigante’s “relentless fecundity” and Muller-Sievers’ “endless narration.” The novel begins with Biddy Brannigan, a witchy midwife figure, giving birth to this story in which several identities—Alonzo, Adonijah, Immalee/Isidora—powerfully illustrate the conflict between internal passions and external controls that is a hallmark of epigenetic literature. Also, the novel is significantly more engaged with the supernatural than either Radcliffe’s or Shelley’s, which parallels the struggle that epigenesists had with vitalism, the temptation to offer supernatural explanations for how life begins. Finally, the novel’s monstrous form and its inconclusive conclusion suggest that origins will never be found and that the story will continue ad nauseum, paralleling the epigenetic search for origins in the field of embryology.

The Italian case is a significant example of melodramatisation of the national question, with the crucial issue of the public discourses around it clearly highlighted. The chapter shows how in the cultural and political circles of the pre-unification Italian States, the search for a still limited public for literature and the theatre and the identification of a new public for politics proceeded in parallel and with frequent overlaps. Ugo Foscolo, but above all Giuseppe Mazzini, devoted considerable attention to the issue, identifying in artistic languages ​​the ability to touch the heart and stir the passions deemed crucial to mobilise souls around the national cause. The new literature and theatre had to overflow with energy, indignation, emotionality and ferocity. These characteristics in the Risorgimento literature represent the origin of what Antonio Gramsci called the “Italian melodramatic disease” and allow us to better understand the context and references of this well-known definition.

While talking about Bras Cubas one cannot divorce oneself from the significant style of the novel and its allegiance to being what John Barth once called the “proto-post-modern” novel. In 1866, Machado wrote that his ideal for the Brazilian novel was “the literary novel, a novel that combines the study of the human passions with poetry’s delicate and original touches.” The novel he wrote was altogether different from what was being written at the time and what he was writing as well. This chapter explores Machado’s impassioned influence not only on Latin American letters but on world letters as well and how his novel was really the progenitor for the Latin American Boom.

Yves Montand’s life is intertwined with the passions and aspirations of Europe in the twentieth century. It extends from the aftermath of World War I to the dawn of the post-Cold War era. Chapter 4 briefly outlines his life prior to his arrival in Moscow in 1955. He was born on 13 October 1921 in the province of Tuscany in Italy, in the small village of Monsummano Alto, and died on 9 November 1991 in Saint-Paul-de-Vence in France. Montand’s real surname was Livi, and his first name was Ivo, later gallicised as Yves. By the end of 1923, the Livi family escaped the rising fascism in Italy and moved to southern France, and Yves Montand spent his early life in the suburbs of Marseilles. He became known as a singer from the late 1930s and as an actor after World War II. He became a transnational star whose activities were carefully followed. In 1951 he married Simone Signoret, and Montand/Signoret became one of the most famous intellectual couples in France at the time, known for their sympathies for the left and for the growing peace movement.

The debate over religious innatism lost its energy in the 1710s. The dominant attitude that replaced innatism was not one characterised by confident Lockeanism, but either ambivalence or lack of interest. Despite Locke’s arguments, the proof from the consensus gentium remained common. Key to the lack of interest in religious innatism was the shift in the principal external threat to Christianity in the early eighteenth century being deism rather than atheism. The argument from tradition and the necessity of revelation were increasingly relied upon by apologists. But equally significant was the rise of the internal sense theory of religion, associated with Shaftesbury and Hutcheson, and which had supporters in both England and Scotland. Several philosophers and theologians shifted the locus of innate religiosity away from the faculty of the understanding to non-rational sources, such as the passions, instincts and internal senses.

Driven by an intoxicating appetite for power in the Zimbabwean postcolony, Mugabe openly boasted of the gun that was always going to be a companion of the vote. Mugabe privileged the bullet ahead of the ballot. To vote the political opposition was to waste time as he and his party would not, at gun-point, allow the opposition to prevail in any election. Even if the opposition went to the courts to appeal, “no judicial decision” would stop Mugabe. Behind the political Godfather and High Priest that Mugabe presented himself as, it is noted, there was always a fragile and “terrified little man” that feared defeat. The “pornography of power” that Mugabe performed and the vulgar paradigm of war that he vaunted of concealed the alarmed coward that he was. This chapter also explores some Marxist, nationalist and even Machiavellian ideological passions and energies that drove Mugabe’s will to power in the Zimbabwean postcolony. The will to live that is advanced by Enrique Dussel as the politics of liberation that negates the will to power is fleshed out in preparation for the examination of the political formation of Robert Mugabe that follows in the next chapter.

This paper examines Elisabeth of Bohemia’s critique of Descartes’ internalist conception of happiness. According to this conception, we can all become happy because we can all make full use of our rational faculties and constantly follow our best judgments. Happiness is nothing but an “internal satisfaction” that arises when we act in accordance with these judgments. Elisabeth challenges this conception by pointing out that it is far too optimistic and that it neglects what is external to our own mind. Quite often, we cannot make full use of our rational faculties (i) because we are in the grip of passions and diseases or (ii) because we are under time pressure and can neither make the best decisions nor foresee their consequences. The paper focuses on these two objections, arguing that Elisabeth replaces Descartes’ internalist conception of happiness with a more complex conception that takes both internal and external factors into account. On her view, not only the right use of our rational faculties but also the right conditions for using them are required for obtaining happiness. In defending this view, Elisabeth presents an alternative to Descartes’ position and should therefore be seen as an original thinker engaging in a philosophical debate.

While most scholars who have discussed the letters of Elisabeth and Descartes exchanged in 1646 on the subject of the Prince focused on Descartes, whether he was Machiavellian or not, I shall deal here more in depth with the position of Elisabeth. I shall address then four main points: the so-called “methodological” question raised by Descartes about the Prince and quickly dismissed by Elisabeth; the issue of political realism, that is one of the great themes of Machiavelli’s thought; the problem of the “good man,” namely whether and how the natural law can bind in a “wicked” world; Elisabeth’s focus on the passions against Descartes’s political and providential mereology. Finally, I shall try to draw some more general conclusions as regards the place of Elisabeth in the broader context of seventeenth century political philosophy, especially in regard to Hobbes.

What is the influence of theories on human beings’ conduct? In many places, one encounters exceedingly pessimistic views regarding the question of the relations of theory and practice towards each other. One often hears that practical behaviour is determined by interests, passions, and circumstances, and that the influence of theory on practice in politics as well as otherwise in social life is vanishingly small. I consider this view to be misguided. Certainly, there are many cases where theory influences action little or not at all, where indeed interest, prejudice, passion, etc., play the deciding role, and the number of people who have no clue about theory whatsoever is very great. But one still cannot deny its influence for that reason completely. It is far stronger than most people assume, and especially strong precisely in the upcoming [aufstrebend] classes in society. What theoretical conception they have when confronted by some question or other, even if it has not always been preached to them as theory, but only as doctrine, as dogmatic tenets, has under some circumstances a very great influence on their behaviour

Sighs, sometimes accompanied by tears and groans, are everywhere in Shakespeare’s plays and yet have received almost no attention in scholarship on the passions and early modern theater. References to sighing are often taken as a commonplace rather than as potential cues to embodied action or clues to a character’s emotional state, and yet, sighing had anatomical, humoral, spiritual, and pathological significance in early modern culture. Constant sighing was viewed as a key external symptom of melancholic afflictions such as lovesickness. With such ideas in mind, Chalk explores the representation of sighing on the Shakespearean stage in relation to medical and philosophical writings on the phenomenon. Visceral, vital, non-verbal, and affective, sighing was more than merely metaphorical: its use in Shakespeare often signifies the physicality and theatricality of the passions as necessarily performative phenomena.

Elisabeth is widely known as a critic of René Descartes' account of mind--body interaction and scholarly interpretations of her view on the will most often pose the question about the freedom of the will in relation to bodily impulses such as the passions. This chapter takes a different perspective and focuses on the problem of the compatibility of free will and providence, as it is discussed in a sequence of six letters that Elisabeth and Descartes wrote between September 1645 and January 1646. The chapter focuses on this specific metaphysical problem in order to ask what Elisabeth's remarks on the topic can tell about her general philosophical method as well as about her particular philosophical worries. The chapter divides into three parts. The first part discusses Elisabeth's initial philosophical interest in the question of free will and providence, and recounts the arguments presented by her and Descartes. The second part discusses the philosophical foundation for Descartes' position and Elisabeth's criticism of this position. The final part compares Elisabeth's criticism of Descartes' account of the compatibility of free will and providence with her criticism of his account of mind--body interaction, which she develops in her three first letters to him, written in 1643. It is argued that at the core of both criticisms we find Elisabeth's search for answers based on reason and a dissatisfaction with Descartes' reliance on the incomprehensible nature of God as a basis for some of his philosophical arguments. peerReviewed

This chapter—while focusing particularly on the case of India—sheds light on the issue of populism from a discourse analytical perspective. It seeks to unpack the strategies and practices, tools and technologies that have been instrumental in replacing the old certainties that had marked postcolonial India, constructed and envisioned by politicians like Gandhi and Nehru, with new, populist ones. It details how populism in India (and elsewhere) taps popular imagination and sentiments by using and shaping emotions and passions, aiming at the re-ordering of discourses connected to categories such as the elite, the people, the nation, religion, and justice. The chapter examines how populists in times of rapid social change tend to offer alternative ideas of social and fraternal harmony when dominant groups have come under pressure, while simultaneously expressing sympathy for insecure, marginalized groups. At the same time, they mobilize against cosmopolitan citizens, casting them as opposite to “authentic,” rooted people.

In this chapter we offer a step-by-step guide to address the specific challenges the patient is experiencing within the context of the patient’s developmental stage. Starting with designating someone as the case manager, a team will need to be created to treat the co-occurring or secondary psychological issues in each of these areas of concern. We stress the importance of finding a school environment that will maximize the students’ success. Look for a school that is open-minded, flexible, and willing to consider the specific unique needs of the whole child, not just their disability and remediation needs, recognizing, supporting, and enhancing their strengths as well as their challenges. In addition, we address how to create an action plan. After the initial clinical interview and reading of test materials, an action plan will need to be developed which considers the patients age, family’s resources, the child’s passions, and the areas presenting the most challenge. This plan will shift as the child grows and develops and as their workload increases.

This essay compares Anne of Green Gables by L.M. Montgomery to Radclyffe Hall’s The Well of Loneliness, arguing that the uncanny resemblances between the protagonists’ feelings of queerness, perceptions of body, love for nature and women, and intellectual gifts suggest influence. Stephen Gordon’s high-strung, keenly self-conscious temperament; acute nerves and heightened passions; status as a social outcast; love of heroic and tragic fiction; and scholarly brilliance: all are qualities of Anne Shirley. Anne and Stephen are studies of early emotional deprivation and loneliness, and both characters passionately identify with places and even trees, strong symbols of primitive natures. As odd girls ready for serious educational training, they deconstruct unnaturalness in girls and women who act in accordance with their nature.

In this chapter, I show how Western (male) philosophers have traditionally dismissed women, women’s concerns, and women’s anger. Canonical Western philosophy privileges men by connecting male subjectivity to divine logos while simultaneously working to link women to anger as a means to diminish the status of women. What claims could a woman have to subjectivity or recognition if philosophers tend to portray her as inherently inscrutable? Structuring the nature of Woman in this manner renders it difficult for women’s resistance or objections to register as anything more than sound and fury. In an attempt to change this narrative, some feminists show the philosophical value of emotions and passions. A few feminists have even challenged traditional readings of anger as a means to show the importance of women. Given the link between Stoic interpretations of anger and Christian morality, feminists have found it more helpful to couple their rendition of anger with a different religious tradition in order to undo the knot of female subjectivity found in the West. This chapter culminates with an exploration of reasons feminists may turn to Buddhist thought as an alternative.

The authors revisit Miami Virtue: Choragraphy of the Virtual City, the project initiating their collaboration in the Florida Research Ensemble, as a point of departure for updating their project to invent education native to electracy (the digital apparatus). Historically, electracy as an epoch is also characterized as the Anthropocene, identifying a causal force of reality as humanity itself (supplementing previous causalities of God and Nature). Digital technology institutionalized in entertainment corporations threatens total commodification of human visceral appetite (The Matrix). Against this disaster, Konsult as a genre for electrate learning is invented by analogy with the invention of the Dialogue in the Athenian Academies. The Greeks configured a “stack” based on Aristotle’s topical logic (Topos), correlating a systematic relationship among physical places, alphabetic writing technology, the archive of recorded culture, new rhetorical practices, and the living memory of students. Benjamin Bratton described the new technological stack (Earth, Cloud, City, Address, Interface, User) of electracy. Choral Konsult reconfigures this stack with an alternative concept of space, Chora, also of Greek origin, reanimated in poststructural philosophy. Theorizing the visceral imagination as Chora, correlated with the inventions of avant-garde modernist arts as a logic of appetites, Choragraphy proposes an augmented reality pedagogy to do for human passions what topical logics did for a reason.

This chapter describes an Israeli author’s writing experience of Julia Margaret Cameron’s biography. Scrutinising existing archival material on the notable Victorian photographer, she tries understanding the roots of her artistic cravings. Interweaving her journey in the footsteps of Cameron with existing archival knowledge, she reveals—regardless of historical, cultural and national disparities—interesting similarities between their artistic passions, aesthetic preferences and repeated experiences of discrimination as women by the patriarchal art world. Yet her sense of closeness to Cameron is often interrupted by feelings of alienation due to cultural and national boundaries that prevent her from comprehending Cameron’s life and artistic choices. The chapter suggests a way to conceptualise this transnational writing, contending that despite the complexities, such biographies provide new insights into artists’ lives.

This chapter examines the depiction of unruly emotional responses to economic practice in early modern English drama. It focuses specifically on potentially inaccessible structures of desire and anger, such as vexation and destructive consuming passions for goods, and argues that there is a significant historical distance built into these feelings that our own emotional instincts cannot properly access. This essay adapts ideas from contemporary economic theory like “affective forecasting” and “hedonic psychology” to work through the problems posed by the distant, unfeelable feelings animating marketplace plays by Jonson, Massinger, and Rowley.

Tocqueville is not considered a pioneer of political economy, though economic themes are prevalent throughout his work. However, through an analysis of his comments on the debate over whether or not to recharter the Second Bank of the United States, I argue Tocqueville demonstrates that governmental centralization is essential for a healthy liberal political economy. Governmental centralization is key because it allows for the implementation of the entrepreneurial spirit and provides a basic structure of rules and laws that facilitate commerce and are the basis for national bonds and distinctly American mores. For Tocqueville, the political economy of America is defined by both a spirit of commerce and a need for institutions that foster this spirit and prevent it from being overcome by problematic democratic passions.

This chapter proposes that the urgency, the forcefulness and the regularity with which reason’s influence over the passions is invoked in eighteenth-century writing, far from pointing towards an uncontroversial verity, in fact reveal the palpable resistance with which this principle is frequently met. It seeks to capture some of the ways in which the period’s many utterances of the belief in reason’s necessary dominance over passion lay bare a discernible shortfall between the conviction of the rhetorical mode typically used to declare it and the characteristic evasiveness of attempts to explain it.

In this chapter we take a cultural interpretative perspective on passion and entrepreneurship to explore how passions are discovered in becoming an embodied entrepreneur as part of community. Taking the view that an entrepreneur is always, already, a part of her social networks, passions emerge as an affective response to market uncertainty. In our analysis we trace the repetitive and culture-producing aspects of ritualistic play of the Werewolf social game as a part the of meaningful building of tech start-up community cultures. Through exploration of the repetitive game cycles, we highlight the role of game design in facilitating a spatial arrangement of conferences and networks as lived-spaces for becoming entrepreneurs, through which a community emerges. The werewolf gaming presents cyclical opportunities for the normalization of affective responses and offers embodied alternatives to the calculative or self-regulating roles of the conventional strategic risk-taker passions. Furthermore, we find that passions emerge in the game play as a response to game design rather than directed by the goal of winning.

In this chapter, Madeleine Wood draws together one of the most highly regarded of the Brontes’ novels with one of the least: Wuthering Heights (1847) and Shirley (1849). Wood shows that parent-child traumatisation propels both novels, despite their radically different styles, and in each, family trauma is inseparable from ambivalence concerning modernity. The chapter is split into two readings: ‘The Primacy of the Child: The Ghostly Encounters of Wuthering Heights’, and ‘Family Longing and the Maternal Blessing: Shirley’. In the first, Wood argues that Wuthering Heights is founded on an unknowable trauma, which repeats and haunts, circulating beyond the limits of Cathy and Heathcliff’s story, presenting the violent aftermath of a primal scene which remains intangible. Shirley is founded on primal parental failure: Robert Moore’s family debt; Caroline’s debauched father and absent mother, with Shirley’s seemingly protected orphanhood juxtaposed against this.

The introduction takes as its starting point that an analysis of subcultural myths and myth-making can contribute valuable insights to subcultural studies. In the past decades, memory studies and the study of myths have gained prominence in the social sciences and humanities. Memory studies investigate the ways in which past and present phenomena are remembered, commemorated, and imagined. Myth studies examine the ways certain representations come to be shared as true or exceptional. As subcultural studies finds itself at a crossroads, with prominent scholars questioning the very existence of subcultures, these notions can open new avenues for research. For subcultures are not only built around shared passions and interests—either for music, politics, board games or anything else—but also around shared stories, imaginations, and memories.