Abstract
How does one hope? In this short essay, I narrate moments from time spent at Middle Hope, a small coastal inlet of the Severn Estuary, England. These moments aim to offer, hesitantly, brief respite from certain liberal narratives that rely upon the promulgation of ‘hope’ as a reasonable societal disposition with which to face planetary transformation. I suggest, instead, a turn to ambivalence and melancholy.
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