John Irwin, who led The Hopkins Review from its rebirth in 2008, will retire from teaching at Johns Hopkins University this spring. David Yezzi took over the reins of the journal in 2015. A well-known poet, actor and editor, Yezzi joined the Johns Hopkins faculty in 2013. Yezzi joined us to talk about his new position and the special issue devoted to Irwin’s impact on the field.
Category Archives: Journals
Earlier this year, JHU press published the first-ever issue of ASAP/Journal, a new journal from The Association for the Study of the Arts of the Present. The quarterly journal promotes intellectual exchange between artists and critics across the arts and humanities. The inaugural issue focused on “Art & the Commons.” Amy Elias and Jonathan Eburne, editors of the journal, joined our podcast series to talk about this exciting new venture.
Emily Dickinson Journal publishes its 25th volume in 2016 under the guidance of a new editor. James R. Guthrie, Professor of English Language and Literatures at Wright State University, now helms the journal. He joined us for a Q&A about his new role and the journal’s anniversary.
How did you come to take the editor position at the journal?
I was invited to take the position by Cristanne Miller, the EDJ‘s previous editor.
What is one surprising thing you have found in the transition?
Learning to use ScholarOne. (Ed: An online system for manuscript submission and review) I was quite intimidated by ScolarOne when I took over the editorship. But now, with two issues under my belt, I’m much more comfortable with that program. ScholarOne is still not as user-friendly as I would prefer, but I’ve come to appreciate what it can do for me, as an editor.
Emily Dickinson Journal will publish its 25th volume in 2016. What does that milestone mean for you?
Twenty-five years is indeed a milestone for the EDJ. Personally, those 25 years coincide roughly with my own scholarly interest in Dickinson. It has been a real pleasure to watch Dickinson move from the fringe of recognized American writers to canonical status. My wife jokes now that she can rarely open an issue of the Sunday New York Times or the New Yorker without coming across a reference to Emily Dickinson. She has definitely entered the mainstream of American culture and literary history.
What kind of plans to you have in the short term for the journal?
Now that I’m more comfortable with the position of editor, I look forward to using the EDJ to encourage growth in particular areas of Dickinson scholarship. For example, I’m interested in encouraging interdisciplinary approaches to her poetry. I also like cultural materialist / new historical approaches. Also, there’s a good deal of interest among Dickinson scholars these days in looking more closely at literary kinships between Dickinson and other 19th-century American writers such as Melville and Thoreau. Then too, Dickinson scholarship has become increasingly international in scope. Foreign scholars have much to offer about the reception of Dickinson’s work in their countries, translations of the poems, and similarities between her work and that of local celebrated authors.
What kind of advice would you give to scholars looking to publish in the journal?
I would certainly advise scholars considering submitting work to the EDJ to go ahead and do so — we welcome any sort of scholarship concerning Dickinson. And Dickinson is something of a hot property these days in scholarship and the media — so young scholars may boost their own careers by focusing more intently upon Dickinson’s work. The network of Dickinson scholars is (drawing upon my own experience) welcoming, receptive to new ideas, and friendly. So, take a chance on Dickinson — I think all of us practicing Dickinson scholars are happy that we did.
The recent issue of the Journal of Asian American Studies, featured the work of four emergent and established Filipino American scholars. Guest editor Martin Manalansan wrote the introduction to the custer of papers, which we have re-printed here.
Guest post by Martin Manalansan
Nothing more than feelings. So goes the ballad that many older generations of Filipinos in the Philippines and its diaspora have sung for years in their showers and in karaoke parties. Feelings with a “p,” as many Filipinos are prone to do when they pronounce the “f” sound, not only become a marker of linguistic vestiges and accent detection among Filipinos everywhere but also constitute the very process by which a kind of compassionate and progressive analytical rigor about what it means to be Filipino today in a globalized world and during these precarious times. “Feelings” become “peelings” as recent scholarship on Filipinos demonstrate, especially the ones in this special issue, as they focus on exfoliating the layers of affective and emotional matter and discourses that compose and shape Filipino experiences in the homeland and in multiple migratory sites. Feelings and emotions are really nothing more than the semantic, corporeal, and material fuel and animating force of various everyday domestic and public experiences of contemporary life. They are the fulcrum that propels energies toward labor, migration, leisure, and survival. They also compose the various kinds of ecological intensities and contextual moods that circulate among bodies, spaces, and temporalities within and across various geographic scales.
To critically understand Filipinos today constitutes a challenge to confront the constellations of meanings around bodily energies that intersect in various arenas particularly when it comes to making sense of the Filipino nation and its predicament in the twenty-first century. There are multiple levels or strata that need to be peeled away not to come up with a common core or a central truth but to understand the stratigraphic almost palimpsest-like layerings of meaning and matter and the way they “move” and circulate within and across borders. This special issue puts together scholarship that centers the affective, emotional, and sensorial dimensions of how Filipinos negotiate, perform, establish, and/or resist the multiple predicaments of work, family, and nation. From anger to laughter, from the kinetic energy of hip-hop and the atmospheric shifts of humor, the four authors, Nerissa Balce, Allan Isaac, Jeffrey Santa Ana, and Mark Villegas, limn and map the exigencies of citizenship, labor, colonialism, kinship, class, sexuality, race, and gender through the prisms of emotions, feelings, and the senses.
Far from being an audit of such bodily skills and energies, the essays in this special issue argue against the facile binary notions of inner life versus social life, between mind and body, and between the private and public. These skills and energies are not “natural” like breathing. Rather, they are social because they become audible, palpable, visible, and palatable in relation to structured relations of power and historical unfoldings. In other words, Filipino bodily energies from affect to feelings are conditioned not by idiosyncratic personal quirks but by the forces of history, culture, and social hierarchies. Therefore, these bodily energies are part and parcel of world making and world imaginings.
Sara Ahmed, in her book The Cultural Politics of Emotion, astutely notes that such bodily energies are “points of entry,” not static states of being as they “move, stick and slide” across various spheres and realms of social life.1 Feelings and emotions circulate and are the passageways and vessels for the flow of capital and the buttressing of the nation. They are not “internal” or inside the body. Neither are they contained by biochemical drifts and organ function but can be instruments of oppression by much larger systems such as the state and the private corporation. They form part of the grit that causes frictive relationships between family, region, nation, and the globe. As such, emotions and feelings bypass or transgress the very borders they themselves have created.
For example, “care” in the Filipino case takes on a rarefied air of “national character.” Movies, government training programs, slogans, and other cultural genres have produced and disseminated the figure of the “caring Filipino” who is fit and ready for the global service market and corporeally predisposed to serve and be servile. Care uncritically becomes a mark not only of being “human” but of being Filipino. It morphs from being a bodily skill and intensity into an essentializing notion of a nation and a people that is complicit with the workings of late capital. Care is a neoliberal idiom that gets embodied in the day-to-day struggles of Filipino migrant workers who are employed as nannies, maids, drivers, bellhops, cooks, and so on.2 As the primary labor broker, the Philippines state functions not only as a mediating agent but also as a disciplinary conduit that devices, inculcates, disseminates, and manages the emotional scripts necessary for Filipino migrant labor to be marketable and valued.3 Such scripts involve the disciplining or “professionalization” of bodies to specific forms of composures and habits most especially around the arena of work. Therefore, care is a central “proper” emotion that constitutes these scripts underwritten by the Philippine state and the global service industry, and performed by migrant workers on multiple stages across the diaspora.
Emotions and feelings do not just emanate or are produced by biological entities called humans but can also be constituted by material objects and discourses. One needs only to see how a newspaper account, an image on a laptop screen, a tune from the latest pop song, or the smell of flowers can invoke and provoke multiple movements of intensities that make up and conjure various atmospheres. Emotions, feelings, and the senses are the building blocks of social time and space. Therefore, in order to adequately understand the spatial and temporal politics of Filipinos today, one needs to be “attuned” to the moods and “weight” of places and events or how our surroundings impinge on our bodies.
Bodily knowledge is crucial in critically apprehending Filipino experiences today. Consider how Balikbayan boxes from the diasporic elsewhere or packets of sinigang broth from the Philippines can propel or set in motion various ways of acting and being in the world such as being wistful, despondent, hopeful, exuberant, and/or dejected. Such ways of being and acting can be potentially useful pivots in negotiating through the power inequalities and enliven struggles for survival.
The essays in the special issue go beyond the vernacular and conservative meanings of emotions, feelings, and the senses by promoting the ways in which these bodily skills, knowledge, and intensities are not mere reactive impulses that remain within the sphere of the feeling subject or agent. The essays focus on what emotions and feeling “do” and not just merely describing what they “are” beyond being enablers of systemic complicity or propping up the very social order that is meant to oppress them. To put it another way, emotions are neither always passive responses nor just “barriers” or baggage that promote inaction but are or can potentially become “weapons of the weak.” Emotions and feelings are part and parcel of doing or making politics, the struggle for survival, claims of citizenship and of imagining and longing for a world that is not here yet.
As a way to complicate our idea of feelings and emotions, let us go back to the idea of care that has been appropriated by the state and the transnational service industry. Despite the Philippine state’s draconian scripting, care is never pure or unalloyed. In my own studies, care has provided the means for migrant labor to think coalitionally as a collective force to champion their own rights as workers. My own ethnographic interviews among Filipino migrants have shown how the idiom of care has been reconfigured to move away from being a stand-in for docile professionalism to framing and invigorating organizing efforts toward change. Feelings and emotions such as care can trigger and initiate rejection of or surrender to the world at hand. In sum, emotions and feelings either can be used for the maintenance of an unjust status or can form the seeds for resistance and possible social transformation. Despite their conservative deployments by the Philippine state and the service industry, feelings, emotions, and the senses in the Filipino contexts are crucial bodily skills, intensities, and energies that may open up new ways of imagining possible futures, just worlds, and alternative plots of being, living, and surviving as a Filipino in a global world.
Martin F. Manalansan IV is Associate Professor of Anthropology and Asian American Studies and a Conrad Professorial Humanities Scholar at the University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign.
Anna Romina Guevarra, Marketing Dreams, Manufacturing Heroes: The Transnational Labor Brokering of Filipino Workers (New Brunswick, N.J.: Rutgers University Press, 2009); Robin Magalit Rodriguez, Migrants for Export: How the Philippine State Brokers Labor to the World (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2010).
A group of scholars in the western United States got together 40 years ago to celebrate their shared interest in German studies. Now, the German Studies Association continues to grow in size and influence. An interview with GSA Executive Director David E. Barclay, Ph.D. about the organization’s current state.
An editorial change took place at the Journal of the History of Philosophy last year as Jack Zupko took over the top position for the journal from Steven Nadler. Zupko had previously served as Book Review Editor for JHP, which celebrated 50 years of publishing several years ago. Chair of the Philosophy Department at the University of Alberta, Zupko joined our podcast series to talk about his transition into the new position as well as plans for the future for JHP.
Late last year, the Journal of the History of Childhood and Youth published a special issue which took a look at the thorny subject of child death. Kathleen Jones organized a discussion of young people and death at the 2013 conference for the Society for the History of Children and Youth, the sponsoring organization for the journal. This event drove the creation of the special issue. Jones, Associate Professor of History and Director of Graduate Studies at Virginia Tech, served as guest editor for the issue with Vassar College Associate Professor of History and Director of Victorian Studies Lydia Murdoch and Tamara Myers, Associate Professor of History at the University of British Columbia. The trio provided collective answers for a Q&A session.
This issue emanated from 2013 conference panel. How gratifying is it to see some of that work published?
Immensely gratifying. For the seventh biennial meeting of the Society for the History of Children and Youth, we proposed a group of panels about child death. The conference theme, “Space,” shaped our panels – the papers explored the places of death, the ways that space and place of death shaped the cultural meanings attached to dead children. Publication gave us the opportunity to collect ideas from the conference papers, expand and develop them, and, most importantly, share them widely. The opportunity to publish them also reinforced for us how important, and yet still relatively understudied, the responses to the deaths of children are for the history of childhood. Death provides a cultural frame for the value attached to children. It’s a point Viviana Zelizer made so clear over thirty years ago in her discussion of life insurance for children (Pricing the Priceless Child, 1985) It’s a perspective that the journal publication now invites others to build from and add new understandings to in the future.
In the introduction, it was mentioned that response to the original panel was overwhelming. Why do you think that this area has so much interest?
As the history of childhood has developed in the last thirty years or so, the field has been shaped by questions about agency – questions about what role children played in the past, about what they experienced as they grew up, and about how adults interpreted those experiences and used childhood for political purposes. Getting away from seeing the child as “victim” or “object” has been a part of the rationale for the history of childhood and youth. The same perspective permeates new studies of child death. Earlier histories tended to focus on the question of whether parents developed affective bonds with children and mourned those who died in periods or places with high child mortality. Following Linda Pollock (Forgotten Children: Parent-Child Relations from 1500 to 1900, 1983), numerous scholars have demonstrated that parents deeply mourned the death of children in the past, leading us to explore new types of questions. Whereas death has often been blended into a history of medicine and disease or the history of mourning rituals, the conference theme opened the possibility of exploring the political, social, cultural, and emotional issues associated with risk and death, whether the death of one or of many children. Historians have shown how adults used the threat of death to discipline the young, and how state interventions developed at moments of heightened awareness of child endangerment. At the same time, historians of child death have tracked the emotional loss attached to the death of a child and the ways death has been rendered meaningful for children as well as for adults at both a cultural and a personal level.
Interest was also generated because of child death’s contemporary relevance and our (western) perspective that any young death is premature and demands explication. While death in childhood is an unusual occurrence in many cultures in 2016, it is an all-too-prominent part in others where disease and violence relentlessly attack the young. Where growing into adulthood is the norm, representations of dead and dying children pull at heartstrings, making those images powerful tools for political agendas. Current interest in the history of child death can’t be divorced from the powerful imagery in these contrasting life experiences of children and their prospects for growing into adulthood.
How hard was it to choose what would end up in the journal issue?
Our goal for the issue was to include articles that looked at death in different times and places; we were fortunate to work with panelists who brought such diversity to the conference. In identifying a table of contents that would ensure an issue with broad appeal we also invited additional contributions – notably David Pomfret’s reflective essay on the state of the field. But the underlying theme in the issue was always one of meaning. When a child dies, how is that death explained? When many children die in similar circumstances, how and why are the deaths given a purpose? We think the articles in this collection demonstrate the historical contingency of answers to questions about how we understand and process child death and the ways child death shape the life experiences of children.
We also wanted to show with the issue how researchers are approaching issues of childhood and death from a variety of methodological perspectives. The essays in the volume defy easy categorization, blending methodologies from cultural and social history, oral history, visual arts and material culture, archival studies, and social work. Taken together, though, they suggest the many opportunities for further research on the history of child death.
What did you three learn from working on the issue?
One of most important takeaways from editing this issue is how little we know about the experience of and the meanings attached to child death. The articles here only begin to scratch the surface and leave us with more questions than answers: How did young people themselves understand death? What were the ways that death was made real to them? How did they weave the prospect of death into expectations of their adulthood? We are particularly interested in how answers to these questions changed over time, or in different contexts. For historians of childhood, the role children played in history may well be found in the ways they balanced the prospect of the future with the possibility of death.
How important will it be to revisit this topic in the future?
We hope the experiences of death in childhood and the meanings adults and children give to those experiences will be revisited often as we continue to write the history of children and youth. The articles in this issue remind us that even though death is our universal fate, how we die and how the living are affected by death cannot be captured by that one word. The meanings we attach to death are bounded by the many adjectives we call on to distinguish one death from another… violent death, self-inflicted death, accidental death, epidemic death, slow death from disease or neglect. The articles in this issue begin to address the complexity of this multifaceted word. We expect that scholars will build from these articles to explore the range of experiences, emotions, and meanings associated with child death, and show us the many ways the deaths of some children have shaped the lives of others.