” (2000: 85). Using this tension, Connell ties together the structural, bodily, and practice aspects of masculinities that belie simpler explanation. This requires no simple thinking and writing feat. Scholars with less nuanced understandings of hegemonic
Marcus B. Weaver-Hightower
Writing History and the Social Sciences with Ivan Jablonka
books that pioneer literary modes of writing the social sciences: Histoire des grands-parents que je n’ai pas eus , 1 L’Histoire est une littérature contemporaine: Manifeste pour les sciences sociales , 2 and Laëtitia ou la fin des hommes . 3 These
Translator : Ârash Aminian Tabrizi
in question display Roquentin thinking of escaping, in extremis , the bad news. He tries to build a surrogate God, calling to writing for help and salvation. These two examples give an idea of the major pattern of Sartre’s account of freedom ( du
Florian Krobb and Dorit Müller
The Emergence of Scientific Travel Since the early modern era, travel and knowledge have existed in a reciprocally enhancing relationship, as the field of Travel Writing Studies has shown. 1 When there was no other well-defined pragmatic aim
Introduction: Explosion of Iranian Diasporic Writing since the 1990s Starting in the early 1990s, over a decade after the 1979 Iranian revolution, the literature produced by the Iranian diaspora (mostly in North America and Western Europe
Lena Saleh and Mira Sucharov
respond to in these kinds of assignments include “why did the 1967 War occur?” Using Op-ed Writing to Teach Israeli-Palestinian Relations | 149 or “why did Israel and the PLO agree to sign the Oslo Accords?” These types of essays, while certainly useful
Pitfalls and Possibilities
When historians privilege writing to and for one another over all other kinds of writing—especially in a period when the humanities in particular are under siege at public universities around the country—do we run the risk of making ourselves irrelevant to anyone but ourselves? This article explores the stakes involved when historians shift the focus of their scholarly work toward alternate, non-academic audiences. In this case, I will focus my attention on writing for university and secondary student audiences through textbooks and reference works. On the one hand, I argue that writing for students has its pitfalls, because it is devalued in the historical discipline relative to monographs and articles based on archival research. As such, investment in such writing can prove detrimental to achieving tenure and promotion. On the other hand, I argue that writing for students allows us to reach a much larger audience than our peers. In addition, writing for student audiences forces us to think carefully about the accessibility of our writing as well as the link between research, telling stories in writing, and teaching. As such, I argue that writing for students may allow historians greater visibility and relevance in the public at a critical time, given recent cuts in higher education budgets.
Self-Referral in Drama and Society
Since the considerable commercial and critical success of Piaf by Pam Gems in 1978 and Peter Shaffer’s Amadeus in 1979, the British stage has been swept by a wave of plays about famous artists. That trend has not yet come to an end. Rather than offering a representative interpretation of one or more of these plays, either as text or in performance, I would like to discuss an aspect of the creative writing process: what inspires dramatists to write about fellow-artists? I will argue that the writing of plays about artists has to be located in a wider context of developments in society over the last twenty years rather than restricted to theatre in particular or even the arts in general.
Wilfred Thesiger, Freya Stark and the 'Arabist tradition'
Freya Stark's The Southern Gates of Arabia (1936) and Wilfred Thesiger's Arabian Sands (1959) are commonly viewed as representing the last of the 'Arabist tradition'. Consequently, The Southern Gates of Arabia and Arabian Sands provide an opportunity to examine the Arabist tradition at a genealogical point of transition. Taking as its starting point the representational strategies deployed in each book, this paper will examine the extent to which these strategies are characteristic of Arabist travel writing and consider how Stark and Thesiger might be located in the context of the tradition's demise.
The rapid expansion of international travel networks toward the end of the nineteenth century resulted in a dramatic shift in women’s access to travel. As Sidonie Smith highlights in Moving Lives, her comprehensive study of women and the technologies of travel in modernity, “large numbers of women began to leave home for the lure of the road as a result of the emergence of faster, safer, cleaner, and more comfortable machines of motion” (2001: xi). This shift in the availability of travel to a much broader spectrum of the general public—and crucially to women—coincided with the impact of first wave feminism as the women’s suffrage movement gathered momentum, 1 and the figure of the New Woman appeared across literature and culture. 2 The subsequent surge in women’s written representations of travel was highlighted by Sara Mills in her seminal Discourses of Difference: An Analysis of Women’s Travel Writing and Colonialism, in which she observed “the sheer volume of writing” by women on travel during this period (1991: 1), and asserted the importance of further research on these accounts. Following Mills’s call, feminist scholarship has since worked to understand the complexities of women’s travel writing. Like Mills, many of these critics—including Nupur Chaudhuri and Margaret Strobel (1992), and Mary Louise Pratt (1992)—explore the ways in which such travel accounts were involved in colonialism and implicated in the discourses of imperialism. Others, such as Smith (2001), Avril Maddrell (2009), and Alexandra Peat (2010), have focused particularly on women’s written representations of travel published in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Central to much of this scholarship are questions concerning the difference between travel writing by men and that produced by women—whether or not such difference exists and, if it does, how this difference manifests in women’s written representations of travel. Susan Bassnett notes that these “basic questions … continue to occupy feminist scholars” (2002: 227), and indeed, they underpin many of the articles included in this special issue. However, the articles collected here in this special issue also move beyond these questions significantly in their consideration of the ways in which women’s written representations of travel can reshape our understandings of the gendered experience of the spaces of modernity, and thus make a vital contribution to both the cultural and literary history of the period.