New Books Network

By any measure, David Tod Roy’s translation The Plum in the Golden Vase or, Chin P’ing Mei, Vol. 1-5 (Princeton University Press, 1993-2013) is a landmark achievement for East Asian Studies, translation studies, and world literature. Comprising 100 chapters rendered across five volumes, including more than 800 named characters and supported by more than 4,000 endnotes, Roy’s work is a massive accomplishment of textual analysis, writing, research, and translation. Luckily for readers, it’s also a huge pleasure to read. If you, Gentle Reader, are anything like me, you will regularly pause in your poring over the pages of The Plum in the Golden Vase to admire the subtlety and deftness with which Roy has chosen render vernacular Chinese into corresponding English prose, whether one of the characters is claiming to be “a real dingdong dame” or another is being called a “ridiculous blatherskite.” (Blatherskite!) Yes, there is a great deal of explicit sexual description in the work, but it’s a treasure-house of so much more than that, including detailed descriptions of aspects of daily life in the late 16th century that cover everything from food preparation to medicinal recipes to funerary procedures. It was a deep honor, and a pleasure, to talk with David Roy about his masterwork. I hope you enjoy listening to him and reading his translation as much as I did.

Andrew Selee is the author of What Should Think Tanks Do? A Strategic Guide to Policy Impact (Stanford UP, 2013). Dr. Selee is vice president for programs at the Wilson Center. Selee offers a quick and informative guide to think tanks and research institutes about how to pursue their goals. Selee recommends five strategic questions that all think tanks should ask:   What does the organization want to achieve? What does the organization do that makes a unique contribution? Who are the organization’s key audiences and how does it reach them? What resources does the organization need and how can it develop them? How does the organization evaluate impact and learn from its experience? The book provides countless examples of how successful think tanks incorporate the answers to these questions into the strategies they use to meet their mission. Selee’s observations and advice can help a variety of types of organizations succeed in the policy arena.

The Atlantic magazine recently asked its readers to name the greatest athlete of all time.  The usual suspects were present among the nominees: Jesse Owens, Pelé, Wayne Gretzky, Don Bradman.  Given that these were readers of The Atlantic, there were some more thoughtful answers as well: Canadian athlete and cancer-research activist Terry Fox, Czech distance runner Emil Zápotek, and Milos of Croton, the six-time wrestling champion of the ancient Olympics.  If we put that question to historians Peter Westwick and Peter Neushul, their likely response would be someone who rarely gets a mention on best-athlete lists, but certainly deserves a place:  Duke Kahanamoku.  A five-time Olympic medalist in swimming, Duke traveled the world to give swimming exhibitions, drawing thousands at each stop.  And wherever there was a beach and a break, Duke also demonstrated the sport he had mastered at Waikiki Beach, where he had grown up.  The surfing cultures of Southern California and Australia have their origins in visits by Duke Kahanamoku in the early 1910s.  In the words of Westwick and Neushul, the Duke was a combination of world-champion swimmer Michael Phelps and world-champion surfer Kelly Slater (both of whom appeared on The Atlantic’s greatest-athlete list). Duke Kahanamoku is one of the main characters in Westwick and Neushul’s book The World in the Curl: An Unconventional History of Surfing (Crown, 2013).  Kelly Slater and Laird Hamilton also appear, as do Gidget, Kahuna, and the Beach Boys. But as the sub-title indicates, this is a history that goes beyond the great surfers and the sport’s influence on pop culture.  As historians of science and technology, Westwick and Neushul look at the developments that have fueled surfing’s popularity, such as the invention of foam-and-fiberglass boards (easier to manage than Duke’s 16-foot-long wooden boards) and the neoprene wetsuit, which has allowed surfers to enter waters around the world.  Westwick and Neushul are also scholars of environmental history, and their history of surfing looks at how beaches have been transformed by developers and engineers.  A customary part of a vacation at Waikiki is a surfing lesson.  But the shoreline and even the waves that tourists encounter today are completely different from those of the Duke’s childhood.  As Peter and Peter argue, the changes that took place on the shore are just as important to the story of this sport as what the surfers accomplished in the water.

Art and ethics are linked philosophically by the fact that they are both fall under value theory; and some aestheticians, notably Berys Gaut, have argued for a direct connection between aesthetic and moral values, in that the moral values that an artwork may embody can raise or lower its aesthetic value. In Art and Ethics in a Material World: Kant’s Pragmatist Legacy (Routledge 2013), Jennifer A. McMahon argues that aesthetic and moral judgments are intrinsically linked by the fact that they contain a common element of community-calibrated subjective responses, and that as a result by reflecting on art we also exercise this element of moral judgment. McMahon, who is associate professor in philosophy at the University of Adelaide, South Australia, draws on Kant, pragmatist philosophers such as John Dewey, contemporary philosophers of mind such as Susanna Siegel, and interviews with contemporary artists, including Olafur Eliasson and Doris Salcedo, to argue for and illustrate her view.

Kevin Kerrane‘s Dollar Sign on the Muscle: The World of Baseball Scouting (CreateSpace, 2013) represents the first major study of the history and practice of professional baseball scouting.  Based on Kerrane’s ethnographic research with the Philadelphia Phillies during the 1981 season, the book provides an inside look at one of sports’ least understood professions and most unusual subcultures. Originally released in 1984, the book became a cult favorite among baseball analysts and historians, eventually finding a place on Sports Illustrated‘s list of the top 100 sports books of all time.  For the past decade the book has been notoriously hard to find, with copies selling for up to $50 on eBay.  It is now widely available in rerelease from Baseball Prospectus, the leading voice in progressive, contemporary baseball research. In addition to the original text, the rerelease features a new introduction and an extended epilogue updating the book for the 2010s.

“Christianity and socialism go together like fire and water,” remarked August Bebel, Germany’s leading socialist, in 1874. The anticlerical violence of revolutions in Mexico, Russia, and Spain in the early twentieth century appears to confirm his verdict. Yet, not everyone in interwar Europe accepted the incompatibility of religion and socialism, as we learn in this interview with political theorist and Professor at Queen’s University Belfast Vincent Geoghegan. The dynamism of Stalinist Russia in the early 1930s sent shockwaves through Depression-era Britain, leading a group of intellectuals to rethink their Christianity. In his new book Socialism and Religion: Roads to Common Wealth (Routledge, 2011) Geoghegan explores the efforts of four intellectuals to fuse the two in theory and in the form of a short-lived political party called Common Wealth. Our conversation begins with the pivotal theorist in Common Wealth, the Scottish philosopher John Macmurray. Macmurray saw in communism a continuation of the ethical and social project of Christianity. He interpreted communist anticlericalism as a correction to the Christian churches, which had lost sight of this project. Of his own earlier Protestantism he wrote in 1934, “That faith today is in rags and tatters. I should rather go naked than be seen in it.” Socialism became his new form of Christian faith. Our interview ends with a contemplation of the relevance of Common Wealth for today’s theoretical debates about post-secularism. One sign that we live in a post-secular age is that even left-of-center statesmen, such as Barack Obama or Tony Blair, publicly identify religious faith as a starting point for their political and ethical commitments. To explain his own views, Blair told Labour Party supporters in 1994, “if you really want to understand what I’m all about, you have to take a look at a guy called John Macmurray. It’s all there.”

How to research the history of sexual harassment in the office, when the term sexual harassment was only invented in 1975 and it was long tabou to even use the word sex in conversation? Using an array of rich sources — from Treasury Department archives to trial records, congressional investigation files to films and novels, popular weeklies and dailies to postcards, advertisements to confession magazines, private papers to employment advice guides — Julie Berebitsky takes the reader on a discovery of sexuality in the white collar-office from the Civil War to the present day. Sex and the Office: A History of Gender, Power and Desire (Yale University Press, 2012) analyzes sexual relations, non-consensual and consensual, among co-workers, arguing that the 19th-century ideal of the passionless woman gave way by World War One to an ideal of feminine attractiveness, one that was later transformed by Helen Gurley Brown in the 1960s into a professional strategy for its time. At the same time, feminist groups and the secretarial labor movement coalesced to fight back against decades of discrimination and sexual violence in the office against women workers. Berebitsky concludes her book with an analysis of the Anita Hill-Clarence Thomas case, which brought the issue of sexual harassment into the living rooms of Americans. This case, and the Monica Lewinsky-Bill Clinton affair, demonstrate that there is both continuity and change in American attitudes towards sex at the office.

In these times, when more and more people are looking for spiritual truth and engage in practices like meditation, it’s hard to know what to expect from attaining a lofty goal like Enlightenment. What does Enlightenment look like? What happens when we attain it? What does it mean in terms of our relationships? Our families? Our jobs? In his book Enlightenment Ain’t What It’s Cracked Up To Be (Changemakers Books, 2011), spiritual teacher and religious scholar Robert K. C. Forman explores the illusions we buy into when we enter and walk the spiritual path. “People so want a life that is easy, effortless, satisfying. And the promise [of enlightenment] itself becomes part of the problem. Because now you have a strong wish for that kind of perfection”, he says in our interview. “And that gets in the way of recognizing the transformations that are actually taking place. The drive for a perfect marriage gets in the way of a good enough marriage. The drive for having a perfect life gets in the way of what we do have.” Enlightenment is not about attaining some perfect state of mind, but to be honest to oneself and others.

The Late Parade (Liveright, 2013) has received a lot of attention and it’s well-deserved. Adam Fitzgerald‘s poetry is a berserk love song and between his high-rhetoric and experimental disposition, the reader is treated to a performance that pushes delight into zones of trauma. The poems in The Late Parade nearly outbrave us with their will, except each stanza and line, though dense with wattage, is also heavy with vulnerability and yields – almost as an act of compassion – a strange and emptying alchemy we associate with a poetry that exonerates us from ourselves. During our chat we discuss the malls of New Jersey, his formation as a poet (and reader), his friendship with John Ashbery, and so much more. I hope you enjoy our chat as much as I did.

William G. Howell, Saul P. Jackman, and Jon C. Rogowski are the authors of The Wartime President: Executive Influence and the Nationalizing Politics of Threat (University of Chicago Press, 2013). Howell is professor of political science at the University of Chicago, Jackman is a fellow at the Brookings Institution, and Rogowski is assistant professor of political science at Washington University in St. Louis. The book is a meaty and complex analysis of the presidency during war. They rely on formal modeling to develop a theory of Policy Priority. In other work, that has bogged down the prose, but here the writing is clear and the case studies presented toward the end of the book enrich their analysis. What we learn is that presidents benefit from war in their domestic agenda. As members of congress shift to focusing on national concerns, rather than local, they more closely adhere to the preferences of the president. This pattern isn’t without exceptions, and Howell et al. show the interesting cases (LBJ with Vietnam and GW Bush in 2005 with social security reform) where the model doesn’t predict outcomes as well.

From the sounds of Samba to the spectacles of Carnival, Afro-Brazilian traditions are today seen as emblematic of Brazil and especially of Salvador de Bahia, the northeastern city where many Afro-Brazilian cultural traditions were first established. Salvador’s present status as the “Black Rome” of Brazil marks a shift from the early Twentieth Century, when Afro-Brazilian practices – particularly those associated with the religion Candomblé – were denigrated as “primitive” and subject to repression in Bahia. Yet even as Afro-Brazilian culture is celebrated in Bahia and throughout Brazil, Afro-Brazilians themselves remain subject to discrimination, economic marginalization, and negative stereotypes, often directed at those same cultural traditions. In African-Brazilian Culture and Regional Identity in Bahia, Brazil  (University Press of Florida, 2013), Scott Ickes explores the emergence of this paradoxical modern attitude towards Afro-Brazilian culture during and after the rule of Getúlio Vargas (1930-1945). Ickes describes how during the Vargas era, Afro-Brazilians who sought greater acceptance for their practices found an newly-receptive audience among the white Brazilian elite: progressive intellectuals and journalists who valued Afro-Brazilian culture as folklore; and politicians, both national and regional, who sought the support of the Afro-Brazilian working class. Through government initiatives and the media, these elites elevated certain Afro-Brazilian practices – the martial art Capoeira, Samba music, and Candomblé-influenced festival celebrations – and in doing so provided a public cultural and political forum for Afro-Brazilians involved in those practices. But as Ickes notes in every case, the new elite acceptance of Afro-Brazilian culture was limited and conditional. Only those Afro-Brazilian traditions deemed acceptable by elite intellectuals became accepted, and Afro-Brazilian culture never attained the prestige of European cultural traditions in Brazil. Thus, while the acceptance of Afro-Brazilian culture during the Vargas era had real benefits to Afro-Brazilians, it still allowed for Afro-Brazilians to remain marginalized into the modern day.

In the field of children’s programming, few people- with the possible exception of Fred Rogers- are as beloved as Jim Henson, a contributor to Sesame Street and Saturday Night Live, but most famous for his creation of the Muppets. And yet, he’s remained an enigmatic figure in the years since his death. People remember the Muppets and they remember Jim, but they don’t know much about him. Jim Henson: The Biography (Ballantine Books, 2013), by Brian Jay Jones, is thus an effort to correct that and to pin down the puppeteer: as a man, a husband, a father, and an innovator. For, with the passage of time, we’ve come to take the Muppets and their maker rather for granted. They’ve been around for over fifty years so it’s easy to forget they had to be invented. It’s equally easy to forget how ground-breaking an invention- along with Henson’s other innovations- they were. As Jerry Juhl, the first official employee of Muppet’s Inc., reminds us in Jim Henson: ”This guy was like a sailor who had studied the compass and found that there was a fifth direction in which one could sail.” And how doggedly he sailed. Henson worked relentlessly, not simply at a job but at his passions. As Jones notes, one of his top business objectives as to “work for the common good of all mankind.” And that is, in the end, perhaps one of the most striking things to emerge from Jim Henson: the fact that Henson was who he appeared to be. A complicated man, yes, with complications in his private life, but also a gentle soul who truly wanted to make the world a better place. And, also, a man who is, to this day, deeply beloved by all who knew and worked with him. Henson once wrote: “My hope still is to leave this world a little bit better for my being here.” As Jones’s biography proves, he did.

In the preface of There was no Jesus, There is no God  (Amazon Digital Services, 2013), Raphael Lataster states that “it is not my job to disprove Christianity or any other religion.  It is not my intention to destroy the fait of the faithful; nor do I desire to offend or upset believers in any way.”  His new book is, in fact,  meant to be an objective analysis of the evidence available for the existence of Jesus and of God.   He details, for example, the evidence present for the two different “Jesuses” people believe in, categorized as the “Biblical Jesus” (the son of God who performed miracles and died for our sins) and the “Historical Jesus” (a non-divine but cool guy who preached and helped others).   He relates how many people who fail to find evidence for a divine Jesus tend to fall back on the position that at least a historical Jesus existed, but Lataster thoroughly examines the evidence  and finds it lacking for either version.  By using Bayesian methodology and the mindset that history is a study of probabilities, Lataster points out the problems in the arguments of apologists and Biblical scholars. In the second portion of this book, the author focuses on God and monotheism, sorting through the arguments used to support God’s existence.  He concludes that even if one gives each argument considerable leeway, they all still ultimately fail to providence evidence for any god – least of all the monotheistic Christian god. Though Lataster is a skeptic, his book is one focused on evidence, not on the pros or cons of religious faith.  As he states in his preface, “the truth is not a democracy, and certainly does not care about our feelings.”

A couple of years ago I was living in a hip district of a university town in the Midwest. It had all the hip stuff you’d expect: a record store (and I mean record store), a big used bookstore, a greasy spoon, two dive bars, a coffee shop, and two restaurants where you could buy 40 dollar meals (hipsters splurge too!). Then, suddenly, a knitting store appeared. It looked out of place. Knitting? So I went in to take a look. Much to my surprise, it was full of hipsters, or rather hipster women. The place was very casual. It had a coffee bar, homemade cookies, and couches. You could just wander in, get a cuppa, and, well, knit. According to Emily Matchar, what I’d seen was a reflection of a return to domesticity. In Homeward Bound: Why Women Are Embracing the New Domesticity (Simon & Schuster, 2013), Matchar gives us the why and how of urban gardening, urban chickens, urban canning, and–that’s right–urban knitting and sewing. According to Matchar, youngish women are rejecting high-flying careers to go “back to the land,” so long as that land is in a city. A movement or a fad? Listen to the interview and judge for yourself. All I know is that now that I’ve read Matchar’s book, I have new respect for my mom. She was way ahead of the curve on this one. The woman made all her own clothes. And not only that, she had a career, though not a very high-flying one. She “had it all” before “having it all” was deemed impossible.

The “primitivist idea” has played an important role in art and culture from at least the late nineteenth century. From Paul Gauguin to Pablo Picasso, to the more recent Musée du Quai Branly (opened in 2006), a variety of individuals and institutions have engaged with so-called “primitive” peoples; collected their artifacts; displayed, represented, and mimicked their cultural forms and practices. Daniel Sherman’s French Primitivism and the Ends of Empire, 1945-1975 (University of Chicago Press, 2011) examines the postwar history of primitivism as one inflected throughout by the colonial past and present. Offering readers a perspective on the trente glorieuses  (“thirty glorious years”) following the Second World War, Sherman challenges oversimplified narratives of economic recovery and prosperity, reminding us that the period was one of deep cultural and political cleavages that cannot be understood without reference to the history and legacies of French imperialism. The book looks at the visual arts, of course, but also makes fascinating links between this domain and others: ethnography, ideas about home décor, tourism, and nuclear testing. Tensions between notions of modernity and tradition run throughout the chapters of French Primitivism. Postwar anthropologists, artists, museum curators, and planners considered the primitive in the metropolitan context, developing internal as well as external forms of preservationism and systems of knowledge/representation that drew on long-standing ideas and practices directed at colonial subjects and cultures. From rural Brittany to Paris, to French Polynesia, French Primitivism and the Ends of Empire illustrates an interdependence of culture and imperialism that continues to resonate in contemporary France.