Nineteenth-century Britain was one of the birthplaces of modern vegetarianism in the west, and was to become a reform movement attracting thousands of people. From the Vegetarian Society's foundation in 1847, men, women and their families abandoned conventional diet for reasons as varied as self-advancement via personal thrift, dissatisfaction with medical orthodoxy, repugnance towards animal cruelty and the belief that carnivorism stimulated alcoholism and bellicosity. They joined in the pursuit of a more perfect society in which food reform combined with causes such as socialism and land reform. James Gregory provides an extensive exploration of the movement, with its often colourful and sometimes eccentric leaders and grass-roots supporters. He explores the rich culture of branch associations, competing national societies, proliferating restaurants and food stores and experiments in vegetarian farms and colonies. 'Of Victorians and Vegetarians' examines the wider significance of Victorian vegetarians, embracing concerns about gender and class, national identity, race and empire and religious authority. Vegetarianism embodied the Victorians' complicated response to modernity. While some vegetarians were averse to features of the industrial and urban world, other vegetarian entrepreneurs embraced technology in the creation of substitute foods and other commodities. Hostile, like the associated anti-vivisectionists and anti-vaccinationists, to a new 'priesthood' of scientists, vegetarians defended themselves through the new sciences of nutrition and chemistry. 'Of Victorians and Vegetarians' uncovers who the vegetarians were, how they attempted to convert their fellow Britons (and the world beyond) to their 'bloodless diet' and the response of contemporaries in a variety of media and genres. Through a close study of the vegetarian periodicals and organisational archives, extensive biographical research and a broader examination of texts relating to food, dietary reform and allied reform movements, James Gregory provides us with the first fascinating foray into the impact of vegetarianism on the Victorians. In doing so he gives revealing insights into the development of animal welfare, other contemporary reform movements and the histories of food and diet.

Unlike previous books on the history of vegetarianism, Sins of the Flesh examines the history of vegetarianism in its ethical dimensions, from the origins of humanity through to the present. Full ethical consideration for animals resulting in the eschewing of flesh arose after the Aristotelian period in Greece and recurred in Ancient Rome, but then mostly disappeared for centuries. It was not until the turn of the nineteenth century that vegetarian thought was revived and enjoyed some success; it subsequently went into another period of decline that lasted through much of the twentieth century. The authority-questioning cultural revolution of the 1960s brought a fresh resurgence of vegetarian ethics that continues to the present day.

19th century Britain was one of the birthplaces of modern vegetarianism in the west. James Gregory explores the relationship between this newly organised movement and wider cultural society.

In lively, accessible prose, Victorians Undone fills the space where the body ought to be, proposing new ways of thinking and writing about flesh in the nineteenth century.

An in-depth account of vegetarianism discusses the history of this practice, examining the psychology of abstention, the ideas behind a meat-free diet, and the environmental effects of meat production.

In Frankenstein Was a Vegetarian: Essays on Food Choice, Identity, and Symbolism, Michael Owen Jones tackles topics often overlooked in foodways. At the outset he notes it was Victor Frankenstein’s “daemon” in Mary Shelley’s novel that advocated vegetarianism, not the scientist whose name has long been attributed to his creature. Jones explains how we communicate through what we eat, the connection between food choice and who we are or want to appear to be, the ways that many of us self-medicate moods with foods, and the nature of disgust. He presents fascinating case studies of religious bigotry and political machinations triggered by rumored bans on pork, the last meal requests of prisoners about to be executed, and the Utopian vision of Percy Bysshe Shelley, one of England’s greatest poets, that was based on a vegetable diet like the creature’s meals in Frankenstein. Jones also scrutinizes how food is used and abused on the campaign trail, how gender issues arise when food meets politics, and how eating preferences reflect the personalities and values of politicians, one of whom was elected president and then impeached twice. Throughout the book, Jones deals with food as symbol as well as analyzes the link between food choice and multiple identities. Aesthetics, morality, and politics likewise loom large in his inquiries. In the final two chapters, Jones applies these concepts to overhauling penal policies and practices that make food part of the pains of imprisonment, and looks at transforming the counseling of diabetes patients, who number in the millions.

In her study of the married couple as the smallest political unit, Phyllis Rose uses the marriages of five Victorian writers who wrote about their own lives with unusual candor: Charles Dickens, John Ruskin, Thomas Carlyle, John Stuart Mill, and George Eliot--née Marian Evans.