Using the changing legal bases for divorce, this chapter first canvasses how the traditional dividing lines between the so-called ‘progressive North’, consisting of predominantly protestant jurisdictions, and the ‘conservative South’ with predominantly catholic populations have faded away in family law – only to be replaced by a new dividing line between Eastern and Western European jurisdictions regarding the recognition of same-sex relationships and same-sex families. It then discusses whether ‘the family’ is part of the ‘European Way of Life’, proclaimed by the European Commission as one of its policy and strategy aims. However, different understandings of what a ‘family’ is create tensions which manifest, in particular, when the Court of Justice or the European Court of Human Rights hand down decisions which mandate the recognition of family forms, creating elements of an institutional European Family Law. The chapter concludes by expressing the hope that in the long term the tensions between different conceptions of family can be resolved within the existing frameworks in Europe and that a family in one country will also be a family in all other European countries.

This chapter explores how enslaved people developed legal know-how about Castilian laws of slavery and freedom, and shared and exchanged such information with others. In particular, the chapter focuses on the history of enslaved Black people’s determination to raise capital or credit to purchase their liberty from their enslavers. The chapter explores how enslaved Black men and women often plotted their paths to liberty through economic decisions by focusing on the lives of enslaved Black people who resided in the towns along the Camino Real in New Spain between Veracruz and Mexico City during a time of economic boom in the late sixteenth century. Notarial records that cataloged the self-purchase and liberation of enslaved people in port towns of the Spanish Atlantic often reveal how enslaved Black people developed social ties and capital among kin, friends, and charitable residents, and consorted with people from varied socioeconomic backgrounds who lived or passed through the places where they resided. These records index a history of conversations about strategies to obtain liberty among enslaved Black people and relationships across different socioeconomic spheres that allowed for some enslaved people to access precious credit to pay for their liberty.

Chapter 5 explores the context and reason for the publication of the Letters on Sympathy in 1798 as an accompaniment to her translation of Smith’s Theory of Moral Sentiments. For Grouchy, the Terror and the fall of Robespierre were personally traumatic and led to her decision to divorce Condorcet shortly before his death. However, these events did not introduce any major changes to her philosophy. Deprived of her key intellectual partner, she attempted (more or less unsuccessfully) to recreate the partnership she had shared with Condorcet with her lover, Maillia Garat, and her brother, Emmanuel de Grouchy. Moreover, the publication of the Letters was intended to be a reminder of the ideals of the early revolution, in the face of the increasingly elitist politics of the Directory regime and her allies in the republican centre. Nevertheless, the uncertain political atmosphere of 1795–8, in which a fear of left-wing plots combined with an increasing suspicion of female political outspokenness, led her to package her message together with the less controversial Theory of Moral Sentiments. This allowed her ideas to be dismissed by some, at least publically, as purely dealing with moral, as opposed to political matters.

Two differing ideas characterized the city of Toronto throughout the twentieth century. The first, Toronto the Good, represented the aspirations of religious leaders, reformers, politicians, and police officers to create a city modelled after Christian morality. Sexuality was meant to be expressed in the confines of the private, monogamous, heteronormative family home. Sex was for procreation, not pleasure. Contrary to Toronto the Good was a second idea, Toronto the Gay, a 1950s tabloid reference to the variety of spaces available for sexual exploration and desire. Sex work, queer sex, interracial marriage, divorce, birth control, and abortion endured despite intense enforcement of sexual morality. This chapter explores the tensions between the idealism of Toronto the Good and the sexual opportunities of Toronto the Gay.

This chapter explores London as a site of sexual pleasure and danger in the nineteenth century, a period during which as an imperial centre it became the world’s largest city. Focused on the complex sexual landscape of this urban environment, it examines sexual activity in both private and public spaces including homes, theatres, public houses, pleasure gardens, royal parks, and toilets, paying particularly attention to the ways in which social class determined the personal experiences of sexuality in the Victorian era. Many of these acts were frequently monitored and policed and could result not only in moral censure but also in arrest, imprisonment, or public humiliation in places such as divorce courts. Most likely to run afoul of the law were those in the British metropolis who transgressed gender and sexual boundaries by working as prostitutes, cross-dressing, or engaging in intimate acts with members of their own sex. The sexual history of nineteenth-century London also involved the proliferation of a thriving and diversified trade in pornographic texts and images, ranging from erotic novels to photographic postcards. Central to this chapter are considerations of the ways in which sex and sexuality figured in economic life, urban geographic configurations, and various forms of self-fashioning.

The sexual culture of eighteenth-century Philadelphia was relatively open, particularly when compared with other North American colonial cities. This was due in part to its diverse, multi-national and multi-racial population and traditions, as well as to a steady stream of new ideas. During this period perceptions about gender, sexuality, and marriage were evolving, influenced by new scientific theories, Enlightenment thought, and republican ideology, disseminated by its changing population and the availability of printed sources. In addition, many laws changed as the colony became a state, and within the city new prisons and almshouses were built. Nevertheless, rape, as now, was seldom reported or prosecuted, and especially in the nineteenth century Black women and women considered ‘unrespectable’ were often blamed for enticing men. During the eighteenth century men and women easily moved in and out of relationships, sexual relationships outside marriage were frequently tolerated, and women had some sexual freedom. Prostitution was not confined to one section of the city; neither were the births of illegitimate children. Women could obtain abortifacients, and erotic literature was widely read. However, by the nineteenth century such behaviour was increasingly considered deviant, and Philadelphia was a much less tolerant place.

This chapter explores the representation of marriage in Robert Lowell’s poetry. It considers the often-controversial relationship between his biography and the published poems, and further explores how he uses marital dynamics to interrogate knowledge of self and other. At various times throughout his career, Lowell examines the social and domestic structures provided by marriage, representing the institution as a space of stability and emotional intensity, and therefore one that both inspires and supports creative achievement. Lowell’s third union, with Caroline Blackwood, intensified his engagement with the subject of marriage, prompting deeper analysis of states of intimacy and endurance in this final phase of his writing life. This chapter begins with Lowell’s late work, in particular with the volume Day by Day (1977), but argues that his preoccupation with marriage can be traced back through The Dolphin (1973) to the confessional mode of the era-defining Life Studies (1959) and to its radical approach to tone and form that, at that time, enabled Lowell to interrogate the vexed relationship between private and public histories in profound ways.

This chapter concerns Lowell’s years in England and Ireland, his divorce from Elizabeth Hardwick, and third marriage to Lady Caroline Blackwood. It focuses on the controversy around the publication of The Dolphin (1973), which deals with these matters and damaged his reputation. It also concerns Lowell’s state of mind, his health, and his interaction with British university life and British poetry, although these were of less pressing concern to him than his relationships and his fierce commitment to his own poetry. The chapter begins with Lowell as a temporarily jaded public figure leaving America to take creative respite in England. During his time here, he reworks his Notebook to produce History and For Lizzie and Harriet, while newer sonnets appear in The Dolphin. Despite the more warmly received Day by Day (1977), the chaos in his marriage leads him to return to America and Hardwick, where he dies at age sixty.

The 1959 Iraqi Personal Status Code was controversial at enactment, and it remains so to this day. Some of the controversy relates to its progressive elements, which include a ban on child marriage, expanded child custody rights granted to mothers, and limitations on polygamy. Another significant dimension to the controversy, less remarked upon in scholarly and media circles, concerns the extent to which the Iraqi state should have the power to legislate at all with respect to personal status matters, and instead to defer to traditional religious authorities for rulemaking. This chapter highlights some of the key rules of the Personal Status Code, its evolution over time, its treatment in the courts, and the controversies that continue to surround it. The chapter shows that in many ways, the challenges facing the Personal Status Code reflect the cleavages that have posed an existential threat to Iraq since its creation.

Suits related to freedpeople’s marriages – the linchpin of familial legitimacy – put the disabilities of the slave past, rather than newly granted rights, at the center of discussions about freedom and abolition. In each, a domestic conflict exposed the need to consider the previous actions and intentions of freedpeople, and prompted an assessment of how the established laws and customs of domesticity could be applied to those formerly excluded from their protection. Rather than exposing the ways that race and former status determined whether freedpeople were entitled to equal rights, this chapter considers whether former status prevented some rights – including the most fundamental among them – from being enjoyed at all.

The Council of Trent defended matrimony as a sacrament, reaffirming traditional Catholic teachings, butalso putting an end to future clandestinemarriages by imposing conditions for the marriage contract to be valid, assuring the free consent of the spouses, making it public, bringing the rite under the control of the clergy, and keeping an official record of the ceremony. It forbade divorce while not condemning the practices of the Orthodox.