Benjamin A. Railton's Blog, page 415
April 18, 2012
April 18, 2012: How Would a Patriot Act? Part Two
[Still spending much of my blog-time working on a new writing project, about which I promise to say more when it’s possible to do so (as I know you’re on the edge of your e-seats). So to follow up Monday’s Patriot’s Day post, I’m going to steal my title from Glenn Greenwald’s great book and briefly highlight five genuinely and impressively patriotic past Americans, one per century. Nominations very welcome as always!]
Today’s genuinely patriotic American is Quock Walker.
I wrote a lot about the Revolutionary period’s African American slave petitions for freedom, of which Quock Walker’s is one of the most famous, in the blog post linked at his name above, and won’t repeat those specifics, or my sense of why those petitions embody the best of what the Revolution and its ideas and ideals meant, here.
But I will take things one step further, and ask this: what if we thought of Walker, and his fellow petitioners, as the Founding Fathers (and Mothers)? After all, the Declaration and Constitution were (as we’ve long acknowledged) based on existing ideas and writings, given new American form; and that’s exactly what Walker et al did with their petitions, taking the Declaration’s language and ideas and bringing them to powerful, eloquent, vitally American life.
Walker’s case is credited with helping end slavery in Massachusetts (a complicated question as they always are, but it contributed for sure). Using the Declaration to end part of the national tragedy with which it was intertwined? That’d be plenty patriotic enough on its own terms. But if we go bigger, if we see Walker and his peers as the true Founders, the most genuinely and impressively Revolutionary Americans, then our whole legacy of patriotism has a different, and even more inspiring, point of origin. Works for me.
Next nominee tomorrow,
Ben
PS. What do you think?
4/18 Memory Day nominees: Two Americans ahead of their time, James McCune Smith (the first African American doctor but equally a pioneer in his activism, writings, and community leadership) and Clarence Darrow (the titanic legal mind whose arguments and voice advanced American society just as much as they did its legal debates).
Today’s genuinely patriotic American is Quock Walker.
I wrote a lot about the Revolutionary period’s African American slave petitions for freedom, of which Quock Walker’s is one of the most famous, in the blog post linked at his name above, and won’t repeat those specifics, or my sense of why those petitions embody the best of what the Revolution and its ideas and ideals meant, here.
But I will take things one step further, and ask this: what if we thought of Walker, and his fellow petitioners, as the Founding Fathers (and Mothers)? After all, the Declaration and Constitution were (as we’ve long acknowledged) based on existing ideas and writings, given new American form; and that’s exactly what Walker et al did with their petitions, taking the Declaration’s language and ideas and bringing them to powerful, eloquent, vitally American life.
Walker’s case is credited with helping end slavery in Massachusetts (a complicated question as they always are, but it contributed for sure). Using the Declaration to end part of the national tragedy with which it was intertwined? That’d be plenty patriotic enough on its own terms. But if we go bigger, if we see Walker and his peers as the true Founders, the most genuinely and impressively Revolutionary Americans, then our whole legacy of patriotism has a different, and even more inspiring, point of origin. Works for me.
Next nominee tomorrow,
Ben
PS. What do you think?
4/18 Memory Day nominees: Two Americans ahead of their time, James McCune Smith (the first African American doctor but equally a pioneer in his activism, writings, and community leadership) and Clarence Darrow (the titanic legal mind whose arguments and voice advanced American society just as much as they did its legal debates).
April 17, 2012
April 17, 2012: How Would a Patriot Act? Part One
[Still spending much of my blog-time working on a new writing project, about which I promise to say more when it’s possible to do so (as I know you’re on the edge of your e-seats). So to follow up Monday’s Patriot’s Day post, I’m going to steal my title from Glenn Greenwald’s great book and briefly highlight five genuinely and impressively patriotic past Americans, one per century. Nominations very welcome as always!]
Today’s genuinely patriotic American is Tisquantum, better known by the Anglicized name “Squanto.”
It’s fair to say that the whole tone of William Bradford’s Of Plymouth Plantation—and also, quite literally, of the Pilgrims’ first experiences in America, as Bradford describes them at least—changes with the arrival of Squanto (paragraph 136 in that edition). From that first mention it’s clear that this is a man with a complex identity and perspective: he is described as “a native of this place” but also one who has “been in England,” and with his two languages he connects the Pilgrims to the local Wampanoag chief Massasoit, with whom they make their first peace treaty. And Bradford finds Squanto’s experiences, as a kidnapped slave turned explorer and translator, compelling enough to spend most of the rest of this chapter quoting another Englishman’s narrative of them.
Partly Bradford’s extended focus is due to his culturally myopic sense of Squanto as literally a gift from God, “a special instrument sent of God for their good beyond their expectation.” Yet if we set aside the paternalism and, again, myopia necessary to define another person as an instrument for one’s own good, Bradford’s descriptions, coupled with the history provided in the extended narrative, can help us realize a striking and crucial fact: Squanto turned a horrific and traumatic set of experiences, ones based directly on cultural conflict and oppression, into a perspective and life that worked toward and indeed modeled cultural conversation and connection. He did so, it seems clear, for the good both of the Pilgrims and of the Wampanoags, and more exactly for the good of the new community that came into existence the second those two peoples met. What’s more patriotic than that?
As will be the case for all of this week’s focal figures, there’s plenty more, and more complexity and even tragedy, in Squanto’s story and what it symbolizes than I can get into here. The arc of the 17th century in Massachusetts was not, after all, toward justice. Yet if I have one overarching argument here, it’s the same one that’s at the heart of my fourth book: we can’t seek our ideal America, nor our ideal Americans, by eliding the darkest histories; instead we have to look to precisely those histories and find the genuine and impressive patriots who lived and engaged with and responded to them. Tisquantum’s a great place to start.
Next patriot tomorrow,
Ben
PS. What do you think? Any nominations?
4/17 Memory Day nominees: Two American mythmakers, Alexander Cartwright (one of a few possible fathers of baseball, but certainly a pioneer of that defining American sport in any case) and Thornton Wilder (for his beautiful and bittersweet Our Town, his biting The Skin of Our Teeth, and much else besides).
Today’s genuinely patriotic American is Tisquantum, better known by the Anglicized name “Squanto.”
It’s fair to say that the whole tone of William Bradford’s Of Plymouth Plantation—and also, quite literally, of the Pilgrims’ first experiences in America, as Bradford describes them at least—changes with the arrival of Squanto (paragraph 136 in that edition). From that first mention it’s clear that this is a man with a complex identity and perspective: he is described as “a native of this place” but also one who has “been in England,” and with his two languages he connects the Pilgrims to the local Wampanoag chief Massasoit, with whom they make their first peace treaty. And Bradford finds Squanto’s experiences, as a kidnapped slave turned explorer and translator, compelling enough to spend most of the rest of this chapter quoting another Englishman’s narrative of them.
Partly Bradford’s extended focus is due to his culturally myopic sense of Squanto as literally a gift from God, “a special instrument sent of God for their good beyond their expectation.” Yet if we set aside the paternalism and, again, myopia necessary to define another person as an instrument for one’s own good, Bradford’s descriptions, coupled with the history provided in the extended narrative, can help us realize a striking and crucial fact: Squanto turned a horrific and traumatic set of experiences, ones based directly on cultural conflict and oppression, into a perspective and life that worked toward and indeed modeled cultural conversation and connection. He did so, it seems clear, for the good both of the Pilgrims and of the Wampanoags, and more exactly for the good of the new community that came into existence the second those two peoples met. What’s more patriotic than that?
As will be the case for all of this week’s focal figures, there’s plenty more, and more complexity and even tragedy, in Squanto’s story and what it symbolizes than I can get into here. The arc of the 17th century in Massachusetts was not, after all, toward justice. Yet if I have one overarching argument here, it’s the same one that’s at the heart of my fourth book: we can’t seek our ideal America, nor our ideal Americans, by eliding the darkest histories; instead we have to look to precisely those histories and find the genuine and impressive patriots who lived and engaged with and responded to them. Tisquantum’s a great place to start.
Next patriot tomorrow,
Ben
PS. What do you think? Any nominations?
4/17 Memory Day nominees: Two American mythmakers, Alexander Cartwright (one of a few possible fathers of baseball, but certainly a pioneer of that defining American sport in any case) and Thornton Wilder (for his beautiful and bittersweet Our Town, his biting The Skin of Our Teeth, and much else besides).
April 16, 2012
April 16, 2012: The Hard Way
[In honor of Patriot’s Day—a holiday up here in New England, at least—here’s a slightly revised repeat of my post from last year on patriotism.]
I’m pretty sure I’ve blogged about this moment before, but it bears repeating for two reasons I’ll elucidate below: one of my favorite literary exchanges of all time, and the one with which I begin the Introduction to my in-progress fourth book, occurs in the opening chapter of George R.R. Martin’s A Game of Thrones (1996; the first book in the A Song of Ice and Fire series). Seven year-old Brandon “Bran” Stark is riding home with his father and brothers from his first experience witnessing one of his father’s most difficult duties as a lord, the execution of a criminal; his father insists that if he is to sentence men to die, he should be the one to execute them, and likewise insists that his sons learn of and witness this once they are old enough. Two of Bran’s brothers have been debating whether the man died bravely or as a coward, and when Bran asks his father which was true, his father turns the question around to him. “Can a man be brave when he is afraid?” Bran asks. “That is the only time a man can be brave,” his father replies.On the surface the line might seem obvious, an appeal to some of our very trite narratives about courage in the face of danger and the like. But to my mind the moment, like all of Martin’s amazingly dense and complex series, works instead to undermine our easy narratives and force us to confront more difficult and genuine truths. That is, I believe we tend to define bravery, courage, heroism as the absence of fear, as those individuals who in the face of danger do not feel the same limiting emotions that others do and so can rise to the occasion more fully. But Martin’s truth is quite the opposite—that bravery is instead something that is found through and then beyond fear, that it is only by admitting the darker and more potentially limiting realities that we can then strive for the brightest and most ideal possibilities. I find that insight so potent not only because of its potential to revise oversimplifying narratives and force us to confront a complex duality instead, but also because it posits a version of heroism that any individual can achieve—if everyone feels fear in the face of danger, then everyone has the potential to be brave as well.
HBO recently premiered the second season of their award-winning series A Game of Thrones; the first season covered all of that first book of Martin’s, the second has moved on to book two, and so on for subsequent seasons. I haven’t watched any of it yet, although I’m sure I will at some point, and I hear very good things. But if that’s one reason why I’m thinking about this exchange again today, the other is the Massachusetts-specific holiday that has me at home with the boys: Patriot’s Day. As with our narratives of courage and heroism, I believe that far too many of our ideals of patriotism focus on what I would call the easy kind: the patriotism that salutes a flag, that sings an anthem, that pledges allegiance, that says things like “God bless America” and “greatest country in the world” by rote. Whatever the communal value of such patriotism, it asks virtually nothing of individuals, and does even less to push a nation to be the best version of itself (if anything, it argues that the nation is already that best version). So in parallel to Martin’s line, I would argue for the harder and more genuine kind of patriotism, the kind that faces the darkest realities and strives for the brightest hope through that recognition, the kind that, when asked “Can an American be a patriot if he/she is critical of his/her country?,” replies, “That is the only time an American can be a patriot.”Happy Patriot’s Day! More tomorrow,
Ben
PS. What do you think?4/16 Memory Day nominee: Wilbur Wright, who with his brother Orville achieved one of the most significant breakthroughs in the histories of American and world technology, invention, and culture, and did it with style.
I’m pretty sure I’ve blogged about this moment before, but it bears repeating for two reasons I’ll elucidate below: one of my favorite literary exchanges of all time, and the one with which I begin the Introduction to my in-progress fourth book, occurs in the opening chapter of George R.R. Martin’s A Game of Thrones (1996; the first book in the A Song of Ice and Fire series). Seven year-old Brandon “Bran” Stark is riding home with his father and brothers from his first experience witnessing one of his father’s most difficult duties as a lord, the execution of a criminal; his father insists that if he is to sentence men to die, he should be the one to execute them, and likewise insists that his sons learn of and witness this once they are old enough. Two of Bran’s brothers have been debating whether the man died bravely or as a coward, and when Bran asks his father which was true, his father turns the question around to him. “Can a man be brave when he is afraid?” Bran asks. “That is the only time a man can be brave,” his father replies.On the surface the line might seem obvious, an appeal to some of our very trite narratives about courage in the face of danger and the like. But to my mind the moment, like all of Martin’s amazingly dense and complex series, works instead to undermine our easy narratives and force us to confront more difficult and genuine truths. That is, I believe we tend to define bravery, courage, heroism as the absence of fear, as those individuals who in the face of danger do not feel the same limiting emotions that others do and so can rise to the occasion more fully. But Martin’s truth is quite the opposite—that bravery is instead something that is found through and then beyond fear, that it is only by admitting the darker and more potentially limiting realities that we can then strive for the brightest and most ideal possibilities. I find that insight so potent not only because of its potential to revise oversimplifying narratives and force us to confront a complex duality instead, but also because it posits a version of heroism that any individual can achieve—if everyone feels fear in the face of danger, then everyone has the potential to be brave as well.
HBO recently premiered the second season of their award-winning series A Game of Thrones; the first season covered all of that first book of Martin’s, the second has moved on to book two, and so on for subsequent seasons. I haven’t watched any of it yet, although I’m sure I will at some point, and I hear very good things. But if that’s one reason why I’m thinking about this exchange again today, the other is the Massachusetts-specific holiday that has me at home with the boys: Patriot’s Day. As with our narratives of courage and heroism, I believe that far too many of our ideals of patriotism focus on what I would call the easy kind: the patriotism that salutes a flag, that sings an anthem, that pledges allegiance, that says things like “God bless America” and “greatest country in the world” by rote. Whatever the communal value of such patriotism, it asks virtually nothing of individuals, and does even less to push a nation to be the best version of itself (if anything, it argues that the nation is already that best version). So in parallel to Martin’s line, I would argue for the harder and more genuine kind of patriotism, the kind that faces the darkest realities and strives for the brightest hope through that recognition, the kind that, when asked “Can an American be a patriot if he/she is critical of his/her country?,” replies, “That is the only time an American can be a patriot.”Happy Patriot’s Day! More tomorrow,
Ben
PS. What do you think?4/16 Memory Day nominee: Wilbur Wright, who with his brother Orville achieved one of the most significant breakthroughs in the histories of American and world technology, invention, and culture, and did it with style.
April 14, 2012
April 14-15, 2012: Taxing Poems
To round out the week of National Poetry Month posts, and in honor of tax day, here are five poems that will tax your powers of interpretation—but that pay high dividends if you allow yourself to be taxed. (And no, I won’t be saying anything about them—that’d be cheating!)
Anne Bradstreet, “Prologue” (1650)
Philip Freneau, “The Indian Burying Ground” (1787)
Emily Dickinson, “441” (c.1865)
Robert Hayden, “Middle Passage” (1962)
Kenneth Goldsmith, “Two poems from ‘The Day’” (2001)
Next series this coming week,
Ben
PS. Any poets or poems that tax you (in the best sense)?
4/14 Memory Day nominee: Anne Sullivan, the titular “Miracle Worker” without whose impressive perserverance and educational efforts Helen Keller might never have become the inspiring American she did.
4/15 Memory Day nominees: A tie between three very distinct and equally interesting and significant American men: Charles Willson Peale, Henry James, and A. Philip Randolph.
Anne Bradstreet, “Prologue” (1650)
Philip Freneau, “The Indian Burying Ground” (1787)
Emily Dickinson, “441” (c.1865)
Robert Hayden, “Middle Passage” (1962)
Kenneth Goldsmith, “Two poems from ‘The Day’” (2001)
Next series this coming week,
Ben
PS. Any poets or poems that tax you (in the best sense)?
4/14 Memory Day nominee: Anne Sullivan, the titular “Miracle Worker” without whose impressive perserverance and educational efforts Helen Keller might never have become the inspiring American she did.
4/15 Memory Day nominees: A tie between three very distinct and equally interesting and significant American men: Charles Willson Peale, Henry James, and A. Philip Randolph.
April 12, 2012
April 12, 2012: Poems I Love, Part Four
[I'm spending much of my blog-time this week working on a new writing project, about which more to come soon (when details become more finalized). So in honor of National Poetry Month, I'm going to highlight one amazing American poem per day this week, say one thing about why I love it, and then hope that you'll a) read and enjoy; and b) share your own nominations in comments!]
Joy Harjo's
"A Map to the Next World" (2000)
Everything I ask poetry, and literature, to be and do.
Final poem tomorrow,
Ben
PS. Favorite American poems, merci beaucoup!
4/12 Memory Day nominee: Ronald Takaki, the pioneering scholar of ethnic studies, Asian American Studies, and multicultural American history who really represents, quite simply, the ideal for which American history-writing, scholarship, and education should continually strive.
Joy Harjo's
"A Map to the Next World" (2000)
Everything I ask poetry, and literature, to be and do.
Final poem tomorrow,
Ben
PS. Favorite American poems, merci beaucoup!
4/12 Memory Day nominee: Ronald Takaki, the pioneering scholar of ethnic studies, Asian American Studies, and multicultural American history who really represents, quite simply, the ideal for which American history-writing, scholarship, and education should continually strive.
April 11, 2012
April 11, 2012: Poems I Love, Part Three
[I'm spending much of my blog-time this week working on a new writing project, about which more to come soon (when details become more finalized). So in honor of National Poetry Month, I'm going to highlight one amazing American poem per day this week, say one thing about why I love it, and then hope that you'll a) read and enjoy; and b) share your own nominations in comments!]
Stephen Crane's
"I saw a man pursuing the horizon" (1898)
At once both deeply cynical about the core of human existence (and the speaker/poet's ability to change it) and yet somehow humanistic and hopeful as well, an uneasy and important balance in all of Crane's works.
Next poem tomorrow,
Ben
PS. Favorite American poems, por favor!
4/11 Memory Day nominee: Jane Bolin, whose pioneering life of firsts culminated with her appointment as the first African American woman judge, and whose critical and impassioned perspectives on the core historical issues of the 20th century are just as inspiring as her professional trailblazing.
Stephen Crane's
"I saw a man pursuing the horizon" (1898)
At once both deeply cynical about the core of human existence (and the speaker/poet's ability to change it) and yet somehow humanistic and hopeful as well, an uneasy and important balance in all of Crane's works.
Next poem tomorrow,
Ben
PS. Favorite American poems, por favor!
4/11 Memory Day nominee: Jane Bolin, whose pioneering life of firsts culminated with her appointment as the first African American woman judge, and whose critical and impassioned perspectives on the core historical issues of the 20th century are just as inspiring as her professional trailblazing.
April 10, 2012
April 10, 2012: Poems I Love, Part Two
[I'm spending much of my blog-time this week working on a new writing project, about which more to come soon (when details become more finalized). So in honor of National Poetry Month, I'm going to highlight one amazing American poem per day this week, say one thing about why I love it, and then hope that you'll a) read and enjoy; and b) share your own nominations in comments!]
Sarah Piatt's
"The Palace Burner" (1872)
Parent-child relationships, class and revolution, gender and identity, self-reflection, history, the need for and limits of empathy … is there anything important this poem isn't about?
Next poem tomorrow,
Ben
PS. Favorite American poems, please!
4/10 Memory Day nominee: William Apess, about whose tragic but inspiring life, and angry and eloquent voice, see that link!
Sarah Piatt's
"The Palace Burner" (1872)
Parent-child relationships, class and revolution, gender and identity, self-reflection, history, the need for and limits of empathy … is there anything important this poem isn't about?
Next poem tomorrow,
Ben
PS. Favorite American poems, please!
4/10 Memory Day nominee: William Apess, about whose tragic but inspiring life, and angry and eloquent voice, see that link!
April 9, 2012
April 9, 2012: Poems I Love, Part One
[I'm spending much of my blog-time this week working on a new writing project, about which more to come soon (when details become more finalized). So in honor of National Poetry Month, I'm going to highlight one amazing American poem per day this week, say one thing about why I love it, and then hope that you'll a) read and enjoy; and b) share your own nominations in comments!]
Randall Jarrell's
"The Death of the Ball Turret Gunner" (1945)
The best poem about war I've ever read; also the single most gut-wrenchingly powerful poem I know.
Next poem tomorrow,
Ben
PS. What's a favorite of yours?
4/9 Memory Day nominees: A tie between Paul Robeson, whose diverse and singular talents and achievements were for a while
Randall Jarrell's
"The Death of the Ball Turret Gunner" (1945)
The best poem about war I've ever read; also the single most gut-wrenchingly powerful poem I know.
Next poem tomorrow,
Ben
PS. What's a favorite of yours?
4/9 Memory Day nominees: A tie between Paul Robeson, whose diverse and singular talents and achievements were for a while
April 7, 2012
April 7-8, 2012: March 2012 Recap
[A slightly belated recap of the month that was in American Studying.]
March 1: 1912: My series on interesting Leap Years continues with a unique presidential election, international adventures, and the origins of Hollywood.
March 2: 1936: The Leap Year series concludes with a year defined by the Depression but featuring plenty of interesting pop culture and international American Studies events as well.
March 3-4: Celebrating Shirley Sherrod: A Women's History Month series begins by celebrating a woman who should be remembered for exactly the opposite reasons the late Andrew Breitbart argued.
March 5: Celebrating Sophia Hayden: Celebrating a pioneering woman whose most public achievements were also the focus of the sexist critiques that drove her from the public sphere.
March 6: Celebrating Zitkala-Sa: Celebrating the Sioux orator and author who helped capture and yet thoroughly transcended some of her culture's and our nation's lowest points.
March 7: Celebrating Margaret Fuller: Celebrating one of America's most impressive and talented writers, philosophers, and voices.
March 8: Celebrating Sui Sin Far: Celebrating one of the most genuinely and inspiringly transnational American writers and identities.
March 9: One Short Video, Two Impressive Women: Celebrating Sojourner Truth and Alfre Woodard, a compelling two for one to end the Women's History series.
March 10-18: Spring Break Question: In which I left my readers with a spring break question about their American Studies interests and perspectives, one to which I'd still love to hear your answers!
March 19: Old Town State Historic Park: A series on sites of public memory in San Diego starts with the city's most historic and cross-cultural space.
March 20: Cabrillo National Monument: Three sides to one of San Diego's most rich and multi-layered historic sites.
March 21: Balboa Park: The inspiring origin points and evolution of this central San Diego space.
March 22: The U.S.S. Midway: The two very distinct and equally significant public purposes of San Diego's most unique museum and site.
March 23: The Safari Park: A few of the amazing creatures we met at this famous and powerful site, and what they can help us better understand, as the San Diego series concludes.
March 24-25: Race in Contemporary America: I start a series on this significant American Studies topic by asking for your ideas and suggestions—which I would still very much welcome and appreciate!
March 26: Race and Trayvon Martin: My two cents on one of our most contemporary and painful American events and questions.
March 27: Race and Danny Chen: On the tragic and inspiring sides to another recent and painful American story.
March 28: Race and The Hunger Games: What the racist responses to the recent film release can help us understand and analyze.
March 29: Racism in Contemporary America: A controversial episode from late last year helps me engage with the issues surrounding racism in the 21st century.
March 30: Race and Technology: A graphic shared by fellow American Studier Jen Rhee helps me analyze this very complex and important 2012 topic.
March 31-April 1: Race, President Obama, and Us: How American Studies can help us analyze this contested question with more sophistication and significance—and another request for your input, as the series and month ends!
More next week,
Ben
PS. Besides the specific questions asked by many of those posts, I'll ask this one too: topics you'd like to see me engage with in this space?
4/7 Memory Day nominee: Marjory Stoneman Douglas, whose 20th century spanning life included activism in virtually every significant social movement, but whose environmental advocacy for Florida's Everglades, exemplified by the book The Everglades: River of Grass (1947 ), led directly to the preservation of that amazing American space.
4/8 Memory Day nominee: Oscar Zeta Acosta, the Chicano writer, lawyer, and activist whose connections to Hunter Thompson and mysterious 1970s disappearance shouldn't overshadow his unique, ground-breaking, and compelling works of autoethnographic fiction.
March 1: 1912: My series on interesting Leap Years continues with a unique presidential election, international adventures, and the origins of Hollywood.
March 2: 1936: The Leap Year series concludes with a year defined by the Depression but featuring plenty of interesting pop culture and international American Studies events as well.
March 3-4: Celebrating Shirley Sherrod: A Women's History Month series begins by celebrating a woman who should be remembered for exactly the opposite reasons the late Andrew Breitbart argued.
March 5: Celebrating Sophia Hayden: Celebrating a pioneering woman whose most public achievements were also the focus of the sexist critiques that drove her from the public sphere.
March 6: Celebrating Zitkala-Sa: Celebrating the Sioux orator and author who helped capture and yet thoroughly transcended some of her culture's and our nation's lowest points.
March 7: Celebrating Margaret Fuller: Celebrating one of America's most impressive and talented writers, philosophers, and voices.
March 8: Celebrating Sui Sin Far: Celebrating one of the most genuinely and inspiringly transnational American writers and identities.
March 9: One Short Video, Two Impressive Women: Celebrating Sojourner Truth and Alfre Woodard, a compelling two for one to end the Women's History series.
March 10-18: Spring Break Question: In which I left my readers with a spring break question about their American Studies interests and perspectives, one to which I'd still love to hear your answers!
March 19: Old Town State Historic Park: A series on sites of public memory in San Diego starts with the city's most historic and cross-cultural space.
March 20: Cabrillo National Monument: Three sides to one of San Diego's most rich and multi-layered historic sites.
March 21: Balboa Park: The inspiring origin points and evolution of this central San Diego space.
March 22: The U.S.S. Midway: The two very distinct and equally significant public purposes of San Diego's most unique museum and site.
March 23: The Safari Park: A few of the amazing creatures we met at this famous and powerful site, and what they can help us better understand, as the San Diego series concludes.
March 24-25: Race in Contemporary America: I start a series on this significant American Studies topic by asking for your ideas and suggestions—which I would still very much welcome and appreciate!
March 26: Race and Trayvon Martin: My two cents on one of our most contemporary and painful American events and questions.
March 27: Race and Danny Chen: On the tragic and inspiring sides to another recent and painful American story.
March 28: Race and The Hunger Games: What the racist responses to the recent film release can help us understand and analyze.
March 29: Racism in Contemporary America: A controversial episode from late last year helps me engage with the issues surrounding racism in the 21st century.
March 30: Race and Technology: A graphic shared by fellow American Studier Jen Rhee helps me analyze this very complex and important 2012 topic.
March 31-April 1: Race, President Obama, and Us: How American Studies can help us analyze this contested question with more sophistication and significance—and another request for your input, as the series and month ends!
More next week,
Ben
PS. Besides the specific questions asked by many of those posts, I'll ask this one too: topics you'd like to see me engage with in this space?
4/7 Memory Day nominee: Marjory Stoneman Douglas, whose 20th century spanning life included activism in virtually every significant social movement, but whose environmental advocacy for Florida's Everglades, exemplified by the book The Everglades: River of Grass (1947 ), led directly to the preservation of that amazing American space.
4/8 Memory Day nominee: Oscar Zeta Acosta, the Chicano writer, lawyer, and activist whose connections to Hunter Thompson and mysterious 1970s disappearance shouldn't overshadow his unique, ground-breaking, and compelling works of autoethnographic fiction.
April 6, 2012
April 6, 2012: American Satire
[This week, in honor of April Fool's Day, I'll be highlighting various American Studies connections to the holiday—not just to foolishness, but to pranks, jokes, and humor. This is the fifth and final post in the series.]
Highlighting (more briefly than ideal, but they speak for themselves) five great works of American satire.
1) Washington Irving's A History of New York, by Diedrich Knickerbocker (1809)
2) Mark Twain's The Mysterious Stranger (1898)
3) Nathanael West's Miss Lonelyhearts (1933)
4) Tim Robbins' film Bob Roberts (1992)
5) Jon Stewart and The Daily Show's America (The Book): A Citizen's Guide to Democracy Inaction (2004)
You'd be a fool not to check these out! Belated March recap this weekend,
Ben
PS. Any American satires you'd highlight?
4/6 Memory Day nominee: James Watson, the molecular biologist whose discovery (in collaboration with Francis Crick, Maurice Wilkins, and Rosalind Franklin) of the DNA molecule and its double helix structure earned him the Nobel Prize and changed the face of virtually every aspect of biology, genetics, and medicine (among other fields).
Highlighting (more briefly than ideal, but they speak for themselves) five great works of American satire.
1) Washington Irving's A History of New York, by Diedrich Knickerbocker (1809)
2) Mark Twain's The Mysterious Stranger (1898)
3) Nathanael West's Miss Lonelyhearts (1933)
4) Tim Robbins' film Bob Roberts (1992)
5) Jon Stewart and The Daily Show's America (The Book): A Citizen's Guide to Democracy Inaction (2004)
You'd be a fool not to check these out! Belated March recap this weekend,
Ben
PS. Any American satires you'd highlight?
4/6 Memory Day nominee: James Watson, the molecular biologist whose discovery (in collaboration with Francis Crick, Maurice Wilkins, and Rosalind Franklin) of the DNA molecule and its double helix structure earned him the Nobel Prize and changed the face of virtually every aspect of biology, genetics, and medicine (among other fields).
Benjamin A. Railton's Blog
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