Benjamin A. Railton's Blog, page 77
May 5, 2023
May 5, 2023: Hemispheric Histories: The Panama Canal
[April 30thmarks the 75thanniversary of the formal founding of the Organization of American States(OAS). So this week I’ll offer some AmericanStudies contexts for that importantcommunity and a handful of other hemispheric histories, leading up to a weekendpost highlighting some of the many awesome scholars doing hemispheric studies!]
On threetreaties across 130 years that together help tell the story of the famouswaterway.
1) The Mallarino-BidlackTreaty of 1846: The United States had been involved in the possibility of awaterway cutting through the isthmus of Panama to link the Pacific and AtlanticOceans since at least 1788, when ThomasJefferson proposed the idea while serving as Minister to France. Aftervarious aborted efforts from numerous nations and entities throughout the early19th century, the ball really got rolling when representatives of thePolk Administration negotiated the Mallarino-Bidlack Treatywith the Republic of New Granada (mainly constituted out of Colombia andPanama). The result wasn’t yet a waterway, but rather the Panama Railroad,which was opened in 1855 and did allow for easier travel across the isthmus butwas seen by all involved as a first step toward the eventual goal of a canal.
2) The Hay-Bunau-VarillaTreaty of 1903: That 1846 treaty had granted the U.S. significant transitrights (hence the railroad), but the question of who had a right to construct awaterway remained in dispute for another half-century. President TheodoreRoosevelt was determined to secure that right for the U.S., and thought he haddone so with the January 1903 Hay-HerránTreaty; but the Senate of Colombia refused to ratify that one. So Rooseveltencouraged Panama to separate from Colombia and become its own nation; whenit did so, he sent Secretary of State John M.Hay back and the result in November 1903 was the more lasting Hay-Bunau-VarillaTreaty, which granted the U.S. the sole right to build and indefinitely administera PanamaCanal Zone. If that all sounds fraught as hell, welcome to 20thcentury U.S. foreign policy!
3) The Torrijos-CarterTreaties of 1977: Those fraught histories and contexts were (like so muchof that 20C foreign policy) recognized but largely ignored for much of thecentury, but (as with a good bit of that 20C foreign policy) that changed to adegree (significantly, but not entirely) under the Jimmy Carter administration.As that hyperlinked State Department summary notes, Carter respected Panama’sclaims to sovereignty and was determined to do what we could to turn the Canalover; it was a long and torturous process, but the result was a pair oftreaties ratified and signed in September 1977: the PanamaCanal Treaty, which ended the Canal Zone in 1979 and returned the Canalitself to Panama in 1999; and the NeutralityTreaty, which stated that the U.S. could use its military to (as the StateDepartment puts it) “defend the Panama Canal against any threat to itsneutrality, thus allowing perpetual U.S. usage of the Canal.” If that still soundspretty fraught, welcome to the limits of any attempt to truly revise 20thcentury U.S. foreign policy!
Scholartribute post this weekend,
Ben
PS. Whatdo you think? Histories, contexts, and/or scholars you’d highlight?
May 4, 2023
May 4, 2023: Hemispheric Histories: José Martí
[April 30thmarks the 75thanniversary of the formal founding of the Organization of American States(OAS). So this week I’ll offer some AmericanStudies contexts for that importantcommunity and a handful of other hemispheric histories, leading up to a weekendpost highlighting some of the many awesome scholars doing hemispheric studies!]
On the cross-culturalexperiences, ideas, and meanings of the legendary Cuban activist.
As best I cantell, José Martí (1853-1895)could be accurately described as at one and the same time the George Washington,Tom Paine, and Phillis Wheatley of Cuba: equal parts revolutionary activist and leader, political journalist and philosopher, and poetic andartistic genius. Although he died fartoo young, fighting in the revolution against Spain that he had so fully helpedbring about, he had already done and achieved and influenced more in hisforty-two years, in all those different arenas and many others as well, thanmost of us can dream of in a lifetime twice that long. And just as anotherlegendary Caribbean and world revolutionary leader, Toussaint L’Ouverture, belongs centrally to his native Haiti for which he lived and died soinspiringly, so too do Martí’s inspiring life and work clearly belong to hisbeloved Cuba, and I would never try to argue for a defining national orcommunal identity other than that for him.
Yet one of themore striking facts about that life is that almost exactly a third of it—mostof the years between 1880 and 1894—was spent living in the United States;principally New York City, but with extensive time and travel in Florida aswell. That Martí was less a voluntary immigrant than a political exile from hishomeland interestingly connects him both to many 20th and 21st century CubanAmericans and to the long history ofimmigrant Americans who fled for politicalreasons and found a new home in (often) communities like New York. But whilethose are the some of the main reasons behind Martí’s move to the UnitedStates, they can’t possibly capture all that he experienced in that decade anda half here, what (for example) the society and world of Gilded Age New York meant to this still young man from Havana. Not at all coincidentally,Martí did much of his writing and literary work during these years, including(to cite only one telling example) translating Helen Hunt Jackson’s activist novel Ramona (1884) into Spanish.
Toward the end ofhis time in the U.S., Martí published his seminal essay “Our America” (1892), a breathtakingly original and vital work (to my mind, it’s on theshort list for the most unique and significant American texts, from any timeand in any genre, that our hemisphere has yet produced) that manages both tocapture his specifically Cuban patriotism and goals and to argue for asweepingly trans-hemispheric vision of American identity and community. Theessay is all Martí, reflective of all the different individual roles andtalents, ideas and visions, experiences and passions that I tried to highlightin my opening paragraph and that define a truly singular person. But I can’thelp but see it as well as profoundly influenced by his cross-culturalexperiences, his time in New York and Florida (among many other places), histrans-Caribbean and –Atlantic travels, a life and perspective that hadstretched beyond any borders or limiting categorizations. As such, I believethat there’s great value in thinking of Martí as Our Martí—not, again, removinghim from his Cuban heritage and impacts, legacies and meanings, but instead inextending his meanings (just as he extended his life and work) into our U.S. historiesand narratives as well.
Last hemispherichistory tomorrow,
Ben
PS. Whatdo you think? Histories, contexts, and/or scholars you’d highlight?
May 3, 2023
May 3, 2023: Hemispheric Histories: The Monroe Doctrine
[April 30thmarks the 75thanniversary of the formal founding of the Organization of American States(OAS). So this week I’ll offer some AmericanStudies contexts for that importantcommunity and a handful of other hemispheric histories, leading up to a weekendpost highlighting some of the many awesome scholars doing hemispheric studies!]
On the limitsand possibilities of President James Monroe’s signature policy.
Although theU.S. in the Early Republic was globalizingin all kinds of ways, it was to its fellow North American and WesternHemisphere countries that the new nation was most fully and complicatedlyconnected. Many of those links were due to slavery, from the economic dominanceof the Triangle Tradeto the political, cultural, and social effects of the HaitianRevolution. The relationship between theUnited States and Mexico (especially after it gained its own independencefrom Spain in 1821, right in the middle of James Monroe’s presidency) alsoloomed large over the era. But along with those actual historical events andtheir effects on the U.S., I would argue that ideas of our national neighborsplayed a consistently central role in how the United States developed andcontested its own narratives of identity in the Early Republic. Thecontroversial 1854Ostend Manifesto, which plotted a U.S. purchase or annexation of Cuba as anew slaveholding state, offers one of many early 19th centurymoments when imagined versions of Caribbean or hemispheric connections directlyshaped debates within America’s borders.
No singlegovernmental statement or action better reflects that set of hemispheric tiesand influences than the MonroeDoctrine. Co-written by James Monroe and his Secretary of State John QuincyAdams, first articulated in Monroe’s December 1823 State of the Unionaddress, and given the name “Monroe Doctrine” in 1850, the doctrine laidout a perspective of hemispheric independence, arguing both that “the Americancontinents … are henceforth not to be considered as subjects for futurecolonization by any Eurpean powers” and that any such colonization effortswould be viewed “as the manifestation of an unfriendly disposition toward theUnited States.” That latter clause embodies the most striking limit of theDoctrine, one directly visible in the Ostend Manifesto among many other moments:an entirely U.S.-centric view of the Western Hemisphere, one in which thehistories and fates of other nations are significant precisely in relation tohow much they impact our own identity and arc. Besides reducing the colonialhistories and independence movements of dozens of other nations to an extensionof U.S. foreign policy, this side to the Doctrine would become a longstanding justificationfor direct U.S. intervention in the affairs of these sovereign nations.
Yet if that kindof U.S.-centric narrative and overreaching hemispheric presence became theDoctrine’s effects in practice too much of the time, those are certainly notthe only ways to read the statement and perspective themselves. In its ownmoment, the Doctrine was viewed positively by many of the prominent LatinAmerican revolutionaries then fighting their own battles for independence fromEuropean rule: historianJohn Crow writes that leaders such as Simón Bolívar (fighting in Peru by1823), Colombia’s Francisco de Paula Santander, Argentina’s Bernardino Rivadavia,and Mexico’s Guadalupe Victoria all “received Monroe’s words with sincerestgratitude.” What would it mean to connect Monroe’s own history as a RevolutionaryWar soldier and officer and Founding Father to these fellow hemisphericrevolutionary leaders? Can we see this as one more manifestation of yesterday’stopic of creolization, a reflection of interconnections and influences betweenthe Western Hemisphere’s revolutions and revolutionaries? I’ve writtenelsewhere about my desire to see JoséMartí as part of (if also certainly separate from) the United States, andwill return to that complex figure in tomorrow’s post; but it would be just asimportant to see James Monroe as part of Latin American revolutions—not in aU.S.-centric way, but rather as an expression of the parallels and linksbetween the moves toward independence and sovereignty around the region. TheMonroe Doctrine offers one potent way to make that case.
Next hemispherichistory tomorrow,
Ben
PS. Whatdo you think? Histories, contexts, and/or scholars you’d highlight?
May 2, 2023
May 2, 2023: Hemispheric Histories: Glissant and Creolization
[April 30thmarks the 75thanniversary of the formal founding of the Organization of American States(OAS). So this week I’ll offer some AmericanStudies contexts for that importantcommunity and a handful of other hemispheric histories, leading up to a weekendpost highlighting some of the many awesome scholars doing hemispheric studies!]
On the scholarwho most fully helps us start to grapple with hemispheric connections.
I don’t think it’s much of astretch to say that for most Americans, the Caribbean means, primarily orperhaps even solely, cruises and beach vacations and daiquiris with littleumbrellas in them and making sure not to drink the water and etc. There’s alsothat wholeunfortunateness about the Communist country with the (apparently) greatcigars that we can’t legally smoke and the bearded dictator and thenear-Nuclear War back in the day, but since Cuba has for most of a century notbeen an option for those cruises and beach vacations, I think it’s prettydistinct from the public consciousness of “the Caribbean” in any case. Yet thecomplex reality is that the Caribbean, or more exactly the many differentdistinct islands and nations it comprises, has been a hugely significantinfluence on American life (and vice versa) from literally the first 15th-centurymoments of European arrival (which took place on Hispaniola, present home toHaiti and the Dominican Republic, where Columbus first cameashore). There are, for example, the complex ways in which the Haitian Revolutionfollowed the American one, scared the hell out of Southern slaveowners, andcontributed to France selling the Louisiana Purchase to the US. Or there’severything that PuertoRico and Cuba meant to America’s imperialistic visions and wars at the endof the 19th century. Or our somewhat unofficial but very real andtroubling relationships with dictators like the Dominican Republic’s Trujilloin the mid-20th century. And the list goes on.
It stands to reason, then, thatone of the scholars and writers who can provide the most insight into ournational identity and experience—but whose voice and ideas, like the historicalmeanings of the Caribbean itself, are vastly underappreciated or even unknownin America (at least outside of the academy, and I would argue even inside itto a degree)—hails from the Caribbean island of Martinique. That writer is EdouardGlissant, a hugely unique and impressive literary and cultural scholar andcreative writer whose life very directly included links not only to hisCaribbean home but also to France (where for example he was asked by PresidentChirac in 2006 to serve as the inauguralpresident of a cultural centre focused on the history of the slave trade)and to America (where for example he served as a visiting professor at the CityUniversity of New York for decades). Glissant published eight novels, at leastas many books of poetry, and critical and theoretical works in a variety ofdisciplines, and also worked actively on behalf of counter-culture politicaland activist movements in both France and Martinique. He was short-listed forthe Nobel Prize (in the same year that St.Lucian Derek Walcott won it—guess that was the year for Caribbean writersto be nominated) and until the end of his life in 2011 producedmeaningful and compelling work in all his many genres.
But for an American audience, andmore specifically for our understanding of our own history and identity, Ithink Glissant can be boiled down to one crucial text: his 2008 essay “Creolizationin the Making of the Americas.” Finding this piece was one of the mostsignificant moments for me in the research for my second book,a clear and striking affirmation that my main idea is in conversation with someof those scholars who have thought and are thinking about what defines the NewWorld. But even if you never read my book—for shame!—you have to check outGlissant’s essay, which lays out succinctly and beautifully one of his mostcentral ongoing arguments: that from their very origins (at least in thepost-contact era), the Americas have been defined by cultural mixture, and evenmore importantly by the new and hybrid results of such mixtures. As Glissantputs it early in that essay, “When we speak about creolization, we do not onlymean metissage: crossbreeding, because creolization adds something new to thecomponents that participate in it.” And that’s the most crucial part of hisideas (and a big part of what I see as the stakes of defining our history andidentity in this way, as both he and I would): that such creolizations arefoundational and transformative for all who participate in them, makingAmericans, from the outset, unified across any cultural or ethnic or racialboundaries by this shared set of experiences.
It’s hard to overstate howradical such ideas were in the 1970s and 80s when Glissant was first beginningto fully articulate them. That was the era of identity politics and the rise ofmulticulturalism and ethnic studies departments, an era when celebratingdiversity—meaning recognizing and embracing many distinct identities andhistories and cultures—was becoming a national emphasis. Glissant didn’tdismiss such emphases or their political and cultural value, but he did argue,with force and conviction and precision and great power, that the diversity ofthe Americas has not only always been present but also has produced continualand crucial interconnections and new identities. Maybe not beach reading, butdamn important stuff. Next hemispheric history tomorrow,
Ben
PS. Whatdo you think? Histories, contexts, and/or scholars you’d highlight?
May 1, 2023
May 1, 2023: Hemispheric Histories: The Organization of American States
[April 30thmarks the 75thanniversary of the formal founding of the Organization of American States(OAS). So this week I’ll offer some AmericanStudies contexts for that importantcommunity and a handful of other hemispheric histories, leading up to a weekendpost highlighting some of the many awesome scholars doing hemispheric studies!]
On theU.S.’s relationship to three of the many hemispheric conferences that togethercreated the OAS.
1) TheCongress of Panama (1826): When Venezuelan rebel and statesman Simón Bolívarassembled representatives from a number of South and Central American nationsin Panama City in June and July, 1826, PresidentJohn Quincy Adams and his Secretary of State Henry Clay wanted the United Statesto have a presence there (and indeed pushed Bolívar to secure a formalinvitation). Unfortunately, internal conflicts in the U.S. delayed theirdelegation, as Southern states were wary of supporting a conference at whichmany attending nations had outlawed slavery. The U.S. did eventually send tworepresentatives, but one (U.S. Minister to the Republic of Colombia RichardClough Anderson Jr.) died en route and the other (longtime Congressman JohnSergeant) arrived after the conference had concluded its proceedings. Aninauspicious start to what has remained a fraught U.S. relationship to thesehemispheric gatherings and communities.
2) The First InternationalConference of American States (1889-90): Perhaps in part because of thatfrustrating relationship to the 1826 conference (which ultimately didn’tproduce the consistent hemispheric community that Bolívar hoped for, for lotsof reasons that are far beyond this post), when the next such formal gatheringhappened more than half a century later the United States took the lead inorganizing and hosting it. In 1881, inspired directly by Henry Clay and his “Western Hemispheric idea,” then-Secretaryof State JamesG. Blaine invited all the nations in the Hemisphere to come to a conferencein Washington; subsequent politics led Blaine to be replaced as Secretary ofState and the conference to stall, but he never gave up on the idea, and whenBlaine was once again appointed Secretary of State by President BenjaminHarrison he was able to bring it to fruition. A great deal was discussed anddebated at the conference, but there’s no debating its legacy, as the finalitem in this list helps illustrate.
3) The Ninth InternationalConference of American States (1948): Building on what was begun at that1889-90 conference, this hemispheric community and blossoming organization metregularly over the next half-century. During World War II those meetings tookon a new sense of urgency and purpose, as reflected by a new agreement signedjust after the war, the 1947 Inter-American Treatyof Reciprocal Assistance. And just a year later, between March and May,1948, U.S. Secretary of State GeorgeMarshall (architect of the unfolding Marshall Plan in Europe) led the 9thInternational Conference, which met in Bogotá and at which 21 nations signed theCharter for an even more formal community, the Organization of AmericanStates. They also adopted the AmericanDeclaration of the Rights and Duties of Man, a human rights manifesto whichcomplemented the newly created United Nations to help guide this importantpost-war global period. I think Simón Bolívar would be proud.
Next hemispherichistory tomorrow,
Ben
PS. Whatdo you think? Histories, contexts, and/or scholars you’d highlight?
April 29, 2023
April 29-30, 2023: April 2023 Recap
[A Recapof the month that was in AmericanStudying.]
April3: NeMLA Reflections: My Panel on Niagara Falls: A series reflecting on greatpapers from this year’s Northeast MLA conference kicks off with the panel Ichaired on Niagara Falls in US pop culture.
April4: NeMLA Reflections: Toshiaki Komura on the Poetry of Internment: Theseries continues with a great paper on three generations of Japanese internmentpoetry.
April5: NeMLA Reflections: Jennie Snow on Eric Nguyen and Homelands: My new FSUcolleague Jennie Snow’s great paper on Nguyen’s novel and “homeland security,”as the series reflects on.
April6: NeMLA Reflections: Robin Field on Postpartum Depression: My friend andGuest Poster Robin Field’s great paper on Helen Dunmore and the literature ofpregnancy.
April7: NeMLA Reflections: Elise Takehana on Making Meaning of Maps: The seriesconcludes with my colleague Elise Takehana’s great paper on experimentalwriting.
April8-9: The Limits and Potential of Scholarly Organizations: A special weekendpost on NeMLA, the AHA, & what scholarly organizations can’t and can do.
April10: Remembering Reconstruction: The Freedmen’s Bureau: A series inspired bythe 150th anniversary of the Colfax Massacre kicks off with why theBureau failed, and two inspiring legacies nonetheless.
April11: Remembering Reconstruction: African American Legislators: The seriescontinues with three of the more than 1500 African Americans who held officeduring Reconstruction.
April12: Remembering Reconstruction: Andrew Johnson: Three telling stages in thelife and career of one of our worst presidents, as the series remembers on.
April13: Remembering Reconstruction: Massacres: As we seek to better remember theColfax Massacre, that and a couple others of Reconstruction’s far too frequent momentsof mass violence.
April14: Remembering Reconstruction: Du Bois’ Vital Revisionism: The series concludeswith a book that revised Reconstruction historiography, redefined an entireprofession, and then went even further.
April15-16: Remembering Reconstruction: Kidada Williams’ I Saw Death Coming: Andspeaking of great books, a special weekend post on a vital new book about theperiod.
April17: Soap Opera Studying: 1930s Origins: For Aaron Spelling’s centennial, aSoapOperaStudying series kicks off with five women who helped launch 1930sradio soaps.
April18: Soap Opera Studying: The First TV Soaps: The series continues withAmericanStudies takeaways from the first three televised soap operas.
April19: Soap Opera Studying: Telenovelas: Two ways a classic short story helpsus understand a soap opera sub-genre, as the series bubbles on.
April20: Soap Opera Studying: Parodies: What a few pitch-perfect TV and filmsoap opera parodies can add to the week’s conversation.
April21: Soap Opera Studying: Aaron Spelling: The series concludes with a tributeto how the birthday boy helped primetime soaps walk a very fine line.
April22-23: Crowd-sourced Soap Opera Studying: One of my latest crowd-sourcedposts, featuring the responses and thoughts of fellow SoapOperaStudiers—add yoursin comments!
April24: Recent Scholarly Books: Amy Paeth on Poets Laureate: Inspired by theWilliams weekend post, a series on other great recent scholarly books kicks offwith a NeMLA Book Award winner.
April25: Recent Scholarly Books: David Waldstreicher on Phillis Wheatley: Theseries continues with a great new bio on an iconic poet about which there’splenty more to learn.
April26: Recent Scholarly Books: Natasha Warikoo on Education: The two (2!) 2022publications from my SSN Boston Chapter co-leader, as the series reads on.
April27: Recent Scholarly Books: Three More from Me: My highlights conclude withthree of the many great books I’ve been sent to review.
April28: Crowd-sourced Recent Scholarship: And the series concludes with anothercrowd-sourced post, featuring more scholarly book highlights from me andothers!
Nextseries starts Monday,
Ben
PS. Topicsyou’d like to see covered in this space? Guest Posts you’d like to contribute? Lemme know!
April 28, 2023
April 28, 2023: Crowd-sourced Recent Scholarship
[Writingabout KidadaWilliams’ new book a couple weeks back reminded me that it’sbeen too long since I’ve focused a series on new scholarship. So this week I’vehighlighted a handful of great recent books, leading up to this crowd-sourcedpost of additional recommendations—add more in comments, please!]
A couplemore books I’d add to my own recommendations:
Went to abook talk this week for ChadWilliams’ vital new book!
And allAmericans should read ElwoodWatson’s collection of essays on race in contemporary America.
And on Twitter, Mae highlights MilanZafirovski’s new book, and adds thisrecent paper as context for its frustrating salience in our current moment.
Monthlyrecap this weekend,
Ben
PS. Whatdo you think? Other scholarly books or work you’d highlight?
PPS. For alot more—I mean a lot more—great recent books, check out that section of all my#ScholarSundaythreads!
April 27, 2023
April 27, 2023: Recent Scholarly Books: Three More From Me
[Writingabout KidadaWilliams’ new book a couple weeks back reminded me that it’sbeen too long since I’ve focused a series on new scholarship. So this week I’llhighlight a handful of great recent books—add your nominations for acrowd-sourced Friday post (ahead of the monthly recap on the weekend), please!]
One of theperks of becoming a slightly well-known public scholar is that I get books sentmy way to review. I don’t always have an opportunity to do so, but I alwaysappreciate it, and will try to highlight them one way or another when I can. Tothat end, here (briefly) are three I’ve received over the last year or so thatare well worth getting your hands on (the third is a novel, but you know wecover all genres here on AmericanStudier!):
1) Mark Arsenault’s TheImposter’s War: The Press, Propaganda, and the Newsman Who Battled for theMinds of America (2022)
2) Bill Shaffer’s TheScandalous Hamiltons: A Gilded Age Grifter, a Founding Father’s DisgracedDescendant, and a Trial at the Dawn of Tabloid Journalism (2022)
3) Ciahnan Darrell, Blood at the Root(2021)
Crowd-sourcedpost tomorrow,
Ben
PS. So onemore time: what do you think? Other scholarly books or work you’d highlight?
PPS. For alot more—I mean a lot more—great recent books, check out that section of all my#ScholarSundaythreads!
April 26, 2023
April 26, 2023: Recent Scholarly Books: Natasha Warikoo on Education
[Writingabout KidadaWilliams’ new book a couple weeks back reminded me that it’sbeen too long since I’ve focused a series on new scholarship. So this week I’llhighlight a handful of great recent books—add your nominations for acrowd-sourced Friday post (ahead of the monthly recap on the weekend), please!]
A coupleyears back (man, nothing like blog posts to remind you how fast time flies) I wrotea post highlighting my fellow SSNBoston Chapter co-leaders, including NatashaWarikoo. I highlighted there one of Natasha’s 2022 books, Raceat the Top: Asian Americans and Whites in Pursuit of the American Dream inSuburban Schools; she also published a second book (!) in 2022, IsAffirmative Action Fair?: The Myth of Equity in College Admissions.Both of those built on her 2016 book TheDiversity Bargain: And Other Dilemmas of Race, Admissions, and Meritocracy atElite Universities. To be clear, here in 2023 the most pressing issuesfacing higher ed and education overall are the sustained assaults on thoseinstitutions and systems from overt adversaries and their bullshit narratives,and defending American education from them has to be job one for all of us. Butthat doesn’t mean that there aren’t other, much more complicated questionsfacing higher ed, including those around admissions and diversity and equitythat Natasha has spent her career writing about with as much thoughtful nuanceas any scholar. All those books of hers are well worth checking out as we seekto advance that conversation!
Lastscholarly highlight tomorrow,
Ben
PS. Whatdo you think? Other scholarly books or work you’d highlight?
PPS. For alot more—I mean a lot more—great recent books, check out that section of all my#ScholarSundaythreads!
April 25, 2023
April 25, 2023: Recent Scholarly Books: David Waldstreicher on Phillis Wheatley
[Writingabout KidadaWilliams’ new book a couple weeks back reminded me that it’sbeen too long since I’ve focused a series on new scholarship. So this week I’llhighlight a handful of great recent books—add your nominations for acrowd-sourced Friday post (ahead of the monthly recap on the weekend), please!]
For my Wishfor the AmericanStudies Elves this past holiday season, I highlighted oneof the phrases that has most consistently defined my goals for both this blogand my work overall: expanding our collective memories. That often meansfocusing (here, in my Saturday EveningPost columns, in the specific examples I include in book chapters, and soon) on subjects that have been less well-remembered. But that is of course notthe only kind of subject that needs our AmericanStudying, and another interestingcategory would be those topics that we do seem to remember well but that need alot more depth and nuance than we too often give them. It’s in that categorythat I would place David Waldstreicher’sexcellent new biography of Phillis Wheatley, The Odyssey ofPhillis Wheatley: A Poet’s Journey through American Slavery and Independence(2023). Whatever we think we know about Wheatley—and I’m entirely includemyself in that “we”—Waldstreicher reveals how much more we have to learn, andall the American lessons we can draw from those layers. That’s a pretty greatpair of AmericanStudying goals as well!
Nextscholarly highlight tomorrow,
Ben
PS. Whatdo you think? Other scholarly books or work you’d highlight?
PPS. For alot more—I mean a lot more—great recent books, check out that section of all my#ScholarSundaythreads!
Benjamin A. Railton's Blog
- Benjamin A. Railton's profile
- 2 followers
