The Daughters of Bridget McGhee

When Huxley proposed, Blythe imagined herself fifty years into the future at his funeral. He was such a good man, they’d say. Seventy-two is too young, they’d say. She’d nod and, she had imagined, remember this moment – them lounging in her bed during the early afternoon with the sunlight threatening to burst from behind the drawn shades, him lying on his side with his left arm anchored around her waist, and the tickle of his thumb as he traced circles on her bellybutton. She rubbed her nose against his neck and breathed. His scent was different from that of Walter. Huxley smelled of pears and basil. Walter smelled of leather and soap. She didn’t smell Walter intentionally, of course. He walked into the White Dog the prior day while she was drinking a mint-mocha cappuccino and studying for an exam on medical physiology. The wind whiffed his odor towards her. She didn’t look at him, but she couldn’t stop from inhaling. “People get married after college,” Huxley swung his right leg over and straddled her, forcing her to look at him. “It’s almost been a year since we graduated. It’s what we should do.” She had wondered if he could donate organs if he were seventy-two years old. Not his liver or heart or anything like that, of course, but maybe his eyes. It’d be a shame if they couldn’t preserve his eyes. She noticed them first: they were alert and misty blue, like Santa’s. But then she wondered if eye characteristics like color were even changed during cornea transplants. Walter had plain brown eyes. She hated brown eyes. She told people that she had brown eyes, because they were dark and no one ever looked close enough. Except Huxley. They were at dinner with mutual friends and were talking about eye color, and how they all wished that theirs were like those of the young Afghan girl on the 1985 cover of National Geographic.

Full Cups, Full Coffers: Tax Strategies and Consumer Culture in the Early Modern German Cities

During the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, the excise taxes (Ungeld) paid by town residents on the consumption of beer, wine, mead and brandy represented the single most important source of civic revenue for many German cities. In a crisis, these taxes could spike to 70-80% of civic income. This paper examines civic budgets and 'behind-the-scenes' deliberations in a sample of towns in southern Germany in order to illuminate how decisions affecting consumer taxes were made. Even during the sobriety movements of the Reformation and post-Reformation period, tax income from drinkers remained attractive to city leaders because the bulk of the excise tax burden could easily be shifted away from privileged members of society and placed on the population at large. At the same time, governments had to maintain a careful balance between what they needed in order to govern and what the consumer market could bear, for high taxes on drinks were also targeted in many popular revolts. This led to nimble politicking by those responsible for tax decisions. Drink taxes were introduced, raised, lowered and otherwise manipulated based not only on shifting fashions and tastes but also on the degree of economic stress faced by the community. Where civic rulers were successful in striking the right balance, the rewards were considerable. The income from drink sales was a major factor in how the cities of the Empire survived the wars and other crises of the early modern period without going into so much debt that they lost their independence.

Full Cups, Full Coffers: Tax Strategies and Consumer Culture in the Early Modern German Cities

During the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, the excise taxes (Ungeld) paid by town residents on the consumption of beer, wine, mead and brandy represented the single most important source of civic revenue for many German cities. In a crisis, these taxes could spike to 70–80% of civic income. This paper examines civic budgets and ‘behind-the-scenes’ deliberations in a sample of towns in southern Germany in order to illuminate how decisions affecting consumer taxes were made. Even during the sobriety movements of the Reformation and post-Reformation period, tax income from drinkers remained attractive to city leaders because the bulk of the excise tax burden could easily be shifted away from privileged members of society and placed on the population at large. At the same time, governments had to maintain a careful balance between what they needed in order to govern and what the consumer market could bear, for high taxes on drinks were also targeted in many popular revolts. This led to nimble politicking by those responsible for tax decisions. Drink taxes were introduced, raised, lowered and otherwise manipulated based not only on shifting fashions and tastes but also on the degree of economic stress faced by the community. Where civic rulers were successful in striking the right balance, the rewards were considerable. The income from drink sales was a major factor in how the cities of the Empire survived the wars and other crises of the early modern period without going into so much debt that they lost their independence.