The Harvard Brief

What does it mean to be gay? According to many people, gayness is simply homosexuality – a sexual orientation. However, as David M. Halperin argues in his new book How to be Gay (Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2012), being gay is about more than just sex. In fact, gay men learn how to develop a gay cultural subjectivity through other gay men. Gay culture is phenomenon that is as often denied as it is accepted, as is evidenced by the many stereotypes often associated with gay people, played out in movies and TV shows on a regular basis. Halperin argues that there is a “queer way of feeling,” and that gay subjectivity should be discussed and studied, not dismissed and denied. Despite the catchy title, How to be Gay is a thoroughly academic and detailed book, which seriously dives into the research of gay subjectivity and style. In this interview, he explains how modern day gay identity has been promoted at the expense of gay subjectivity.

What makes something a poem? What defines “poetry,” and how has that changed over space and time? Critics and Commentators: The ‘Book of Poems’ as Classic and Literature (Harvard University Press, 2012) considers such questions as they chart a path through literary studies in Chinese history. From the comparative poetics...

Imagine the academic world as a beach.The grains of sand making up the beach are the departments, institutes, and other bodies and related gatherings that make up the officially sanctioned parts of academic institutions and academic life. There is a world between the grains, however – a world of unofficial, accidental, and trans-departmental conversations and inspirations. And it is within that “interstitial academy” that some of the most remarkable work in the history of modern social and humanistic thought has been born.In Working Knowledge: Making the Human Sciences from Parsons to Kuhn (Harvard University Press, 2012), Joel Isaac takes readers into the interstitial academy of Harvard University in the middle of the twentieth century. Isaac traces a kind of early history of interdisciplinarity in the American academy in the course of an elegantly wrought argument for situating one of the most pivotal texts of the history and philosophy of science, Thomas Kuhn’s The Structure of Scientific Revolutions, within the emergence of what have become known as the human sciences. Twentieth century philosophers and social scientists sought to replace Kant’s transcendental notions with concepts more firmly rooted in the activities of working scientists and mathematicians, creating an epistemology that was deeply rooted in social practices. Maturing in this context and coming of intellectual age largely in the interstitial academy, Kuhn developed a notion of scientific paradigms that were “revealed in its textbooks, lectures, and laboratory exercises,” grounding his philosophy in a fundamental concern with pedagogical practices. At the same time, Isaac’s book is about so much more than Kuhn: it treats the history of American universities, the sociology of Pareto, the development of the case method in legal education, the changing disciplinary relationships between philosophy and psychology, the development of an idea of “social sciences,” among many other themes and stories. It is an exceptionally rich and persuasive story, and well worth reading – be it on the beach or elsewhere.

During the Cold War few Westerners gave much thought to Western Ukraine, and its main city, Lviv. It was what happened in Moscow and St. Petersburg that really mattered, and so if one looked on a map one found city as Lvov, the Russian transliteration, rather than the Ukrainian that was native to the region. Consequently, beyond emigre circles the way in which Lviv became a center for an alternative way of looking at the world was largely ignored until the Soviet regime was falling apart.William Risch’s fascinating book The Ukrainian West: Culture and the Fate of Empire in Soviet Lviv (Harvard UP, 2011) explores how Soviet rule was imposed in Lviv and Western Ukraine, and how despite Soviet ambitions, Lviv acquired its own identity that affected not just locals indigenous to the region but also people who moved to the city after it came under Soviet rule at the end of World War II. Drawing heavily on oral interviews, Risch tells an intriguing story of the unintended consequences of Soviet rule, and the way in which Lviv became not just a city in the geographical west of the Soviet Union, but became a kind of outpost of a western perspective within the Soviet Union.In an act of full disclosure, Risch’s book has special interest to my own research has centered on that city during the period it was under Austrian rule. Further, my wife was one of Risch’s many interview subjects. Be that as it may, if you are already familiar with Lviv, or still unfamiliar with its charms, I invite you to listen to my conversation with Risch about Lviv and his book.

Many Americans tend to think of 1776 as the year when the United States began making history on its own terms. That is simply untrue. Building on recent scholarship that challenges this assumption is Eliga Gould‘s Among the Powers of the Earth: The American Revolution and the Making of a New World Empire (Harvard University Press, 2012). Gould seeks to correct this anachronistic tendency by placing the nascent American state in the context of its time, artfully dissecting the rhetoric and writing of early American citizens and statesmen. Though many of the founding fathers wrote and spoke optimistically about the prospects and goals of the new nation, the success and future of the nation was far from certain. Gould acknowledges this and deftly couches such rhetoric in the reality that the only way for the United States to achieve these goals was to “conform to European norms and expectations.” That the Americans were trying to establish themselves as a nation among other nations, he contends, was no minor consideration. It was a necessity upon which the commercial and political future of the nation hinged. The founders understood this well, as Gould skillfully showcases via a scrupulous survey of contemporary sources. Thus, this quest for legitimacy–what Gould terms “treaty-worthiness”–had a profound influence on the creation of early American republic.Placing the American Revolution in an Atlantic context makes this book a fun and informative read. Departing from the typical narrative of the thirteen colonies allows Gould to bring in a variety of characters and stories that do not often appear in traditional histories of the Revolution–from French Acadians and their forcible removal from Nova Scotia to African slaves in the Caribbean, maroon communities, and absentee sugar planters living in London­­–offering a more comprehensive view of the Revolution and its meaning across the entire British Empire. Gould’s masterful command of primary sources and his adroit ability as an author make this work enjoyable for both students of history and general readers alike.

What do we experience we look at an object – say, a tomato? A traditional view holds that we entertain an internal picture or representation of the tomato, and moreover that this internal picture is of the surface of the tomato, and not, say, the side of the tomato that is hidden from view. This general view of experience has been criticized for some time by numerous scientists and philosophers, Alva Noe among them. In earlier books, Noe — professor of philosophy at the University of California at Berkeley — has defended the view that our experiences of the world are grounded in practical skills – our abilities to manipulate things, and their availability or accessibility to us. According to this enactive view of perception, the hidden side of the tomato is also in our conscious experience of it – it is, in Noe’s words, present as absent. In his new book, Varieties of Presence (Harvard University Press, 2012), Noe elaborates the enactive view further, to explain the nature of presence and of access: how the world shows up to us in experience, and how the way it shows up depends on our modes of access to it.

Sanjay Subrahmanyam‘s new book explores translations across texts, images, and cultural practices in the early modern world. Courtly Encounters: Translating Courtliness and Violence in Early Modern Eurasia (Harvard University Press, 2012) uses three key themes in early modern history – diplomacy, warfare, and visual representation – to show how commensurability across cultures, rather than existing prior to an encounter, had to be actively made by its agents. Subrahmanyam brings us into the many faces of a key battle in the sixteenth-century history of the Deccan, a dramatic martyrdom by cannon in the Malay world, and a circulation of visual tropes across European and Mughal contexts in a fascinating analysis of the ways that insult, intimacy, violence, and paint shaped relationships within and among the courtly ecologies of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. The book expertly weaves a series of compelling microhistorical narratives into a larger story that takes us across the Indian Ocean and beyond, and is a must-read for anyone interested in global history or early modernity.

In When Words Are Called For: A Defense of Ordinary Language Philosophy (Harvard University Press, 2012), Avner Baz sets out to make a case for the reconsideration of Ordinary Language Philosophy, or OLP, in mainstream academic philosophy. I personally found Baz’s work in it interesting due to the fact that my familiarity with OLP comes solely from a literary perspective and both Baz, as a trained philosopher, and his argumentation present an interesting glimpse into the deep resistance towards OLP that can be found in mainstream philosophy. In fact, after reading When Words Are Called For, and even more so, after speaking with Dr. Baz, it became apparent just how differently philosophers and literary academics view, value, and understand OLP and what it has to offer the critics and the curious.For those readers who have either a deep affinity for OLP or who come at it from a literary, non-analytical philosophical perspective much of When Words Are Called For will seem spot on but ultimately unnecessary in the best sense of that word in that Baz spends a great deal of his time making a case for the legitimacy of a philosophical perspective that many who are familiar with it from a literary perspective will simply find a given. This is truly the result of a difference in disciplinary perspective more than anything else. Where When Words Are Called For does shine is in the epilogue, “Ordinary Language Philosophy, Kant, and the Roots of Antinomial Thinking,” where Baz offers some fascinating insights into the connections between Kant and OLP.Admittedly, When Words Are Called For is best for the skeptical philosopher, but it also serves a great purpose in illustrating the extreme differences in how two humanist disciplines can approach and come to understand a way of thinking about the world and conceptualizing the language that unites it.

Did Proust have it right? Does food, whether it’s a madeleine from an aristocratic childhood or the Velveeta mac-and-cheese my mom used to make, have a special significance for our memory, perhaps even our very being?In his new book, The Omnivorous Mind: Our Evolving Relationship to Food (Harvard University Press, 2012), neuroanthropologist John. S. Allen takes up this question by guiding us into the inner structures of the brain, into the hippocampus and amygdala, where memories and emotions mix and where food plays a surprising role.But Allen’s book doesn’t just journey into the brain. It travels back in time, to the origins of modern humanity, showing us how our evolutionary past shapes our eating present. Along the way, we learn about the eating habits of Neanderthals and chimpanzees; we discover the benefits of being omnivores and even superomnivores; and we investigate why a food quality as seemingly straightforward as crispiness makes our mouths water. Here’s a hint: the exoskeletons of insects might have something to do with our love of Colonel Sanders’ extra crispy recipe.Please join us for a discussion of how and why we eat that begins millions of years ago and ends every time we sit down at the table with our 1,400 cc of human brain.

Christopher Nugent‘s wonderful recent book will change the way you read. At the very least, Manifest in Words, Written on Paper: Producing and Circulating Poetry in Tang Dynasty China (Harvard University Asia Center, 2010) will transform the way we think and write about medieval poetry in China. Nugent’s book urges...