While factory whistles blew, workers took control

In the smoky dawn of the industrial age, a strange idea began to circulate among factory workers: that time could belong to them, not just to the machine. This book uncovers how the fight for the weekend was never a gift from above, but a demand from below-carried by union halls, strike lines, and quiet acts of refusal on the factory floor. Through the lives of weavers, miners, and metalworkers in Germany, Britain, and France, it traces the slow, bitter process by which rest became a right.

In the smoky dawn of the industrial age, a strange idea began to circulate among factory workers: that time could belong to them, not just to the machine. This book uncovers how the fight for the weekend was never a gift from above, but a demand from below-carried by union halls, strike lines, and quiet acts of refusal on the factory floor. Through the lives of weavers, miners, and metalworkers in Germany, Britain, and France, it traces the slow, bitter process by which rest became a right.