In 1992, in a historic move, the Church of England voted to allow women's ordination to priesthood and in 1994 the first women priests started to be ordained. Despite much research interest, the experiences of priests who are mothers to dependent children have been minimally investigated. Based on in-depth interviews with seventeen mothers ordained in the Church, this paper will focus on how the sacred-profane boundary is managed. Priests who are mothers have a particular insight into the Church hierarchy as (...) they symbolically straddle the competing discourses of sacred and profane. However, instead of reifying these binaries, the experiences of these women show how such dualisms are challenged and managed in everyday life. Indeed, in terms of experience, ritual, ministry and preaching, priests who are mothers are resisting, recasting and renegotiating sacred terrain in subtle and nuanced ways. Mothers thus not only negotiate the practical and sacramental demands placed on priests, but also illuminate how the sacred domain is regulated and constructed. (shrink)

Across the UK, there has been an increase in anti-abortion activism outside abortion clinics. The activism deployed includes explicitly religious activities such as ‘prayerful witnessing’ and ‘pavement counselling’, which aim to discourage women from entering clinics. This article stems from a wider ethnographic study of public activism over abortion to determine what claims about motherhood are being made within these debates. Two arguments are presented. First, how women’s role as mothers is central and essentialised in anti-abortion discourses, with the body (...) of the mother often disappearing as activists seek to erode the distinction between a foetus and a baby by constructing pregnancy as a foetal environment. Motherhood is constructed as ‘natural’ and sacred, therefore abortion must be damaging because it destroys women’s ‘natural’ position. Second, the article argues that although the activists’ arguments are always religiously framed, their activism takes place in a largely secular context, meaning that they have to find ways of appealing to secular audiences. This leads to a complex interrelationship between secular and religious discourses, where theological viewpoints sit alongside ‘scientific’ claims to buttress activists’ views. This article explores how the presence and absence of mothers within activists’ narratives is due to the tensions between religiously based understandings of motherhood, and the need to appeal to a secular audience. (shrink)

The ordination of women to the priesthood in the Church of England in 1994 signified great change. The impact of the new priests was well documented, and their integration became the focus of much research in the following years. One important area of change was the altered dynamics of gender identity. New roles had opened up for women, but new identities had also emerged for men. While women priests were a new historical emergence, so too were clergy husbands. This paper (...) will consider the historical construction of masculinities and femininities within the church and will go on to look at this in the context of clergy spouses, specifically focusing on men occupying this role. Some provisional findings, acting as work in progress, will be considered. (shrink)

Drug recalls and lawsuits against pharmaceutical manufacturers are accompanied by announcements emphasizing harmful drug side-effects. Those with elevated health anxiety may be more reactive to such announcements. We evaluated whether health anxiety and financial incentives affect subjective symptom endorsement, and objective outcomes of cognitive and physiological functioning during a mock drug recall. Hundred and sixty-one participants reported use of over-the-counter pain medications and presented with a fictitious medication recall via a mock Food and Drug Administration website. The opportunity to join (...) a class-action lawsuit was manipulated. We assessed health anxiety, recalled drug usage, blood pressure, heart rate, and performance on a computerized Trail Making Test. Symptom endorsement was strongly predicted by health anxiety. When combined, three health anxiety measures explained 28.5% variance. These effects remain strong after controlling for depression and anxiety. Litigation condition did not predict symptom endorsement. Blood pressure and heart rate were modestly predicted by health anxiety, but not by litigation condition. TMT performance was consistently predicted by health anxiety, with higher scores associated with poorer performance. Although there were no main effects for litigation, interactions consistently emerged for the TMT, with generally poorer performance for those with higher health anxiety in the non-litigation condition; whereas health anxiety was unrelated to performance for the litigation condition. All but one participant joined the litigation when given the opportunity, despite a healthy sample and minimal use of pain medication. Subsequent data from 67 individuals with no mention of the FDA scenario or litigation showed that health anxiety still significantly predicts symptom endorsement, but the explained variance is less than half that obtained in the FDA scenario. The findings suggest that health anxiety plays a significant role in adverse symptom reporting, beyond anxiety or depression, and this effect is independent of the presence of the FDA recall. The lack of differences for health anxiety and symptom endorsement between litigation and non-litigation conditions rules out malingering. Although it is general practice in drug recalls to list potential adverse side effects caused by medications, this may elicit unintended symptom experiences and health anxious individuals may be more susceptible. (shrink)

This article presents findings from research on young adults in the UK from diverse religious backgrounds. Utilizing questionnaires, interviews and video diaries, it assesses how religious young adults understood and managed the tensions in popular discourse between gender equality as an enshrined value and aspirational narrative, and religion as purportedly instituting gender inequality. The article shows that, despite varied understandings, and the ambivalence and tension in managing ideal and practice, participants of different religious traditions and genders were committed to gender (...) equality. Thus, they viewed gender-unequal practices within their religious cultures as an aberration from the essence of religion. In this way, they firmly rejected the dominant discourse that religion is inherently antithetical to gender equality. (shrink)

Formalised knowledge systems, including universities and research institutes, are important for contemporary societies. They are, however, also arguably failing humanity when their impact is measured against the level of progress being made in stimulating the societal changes needed to address challenges like climate change. In this research we used a novel futures-oriented and participatory approach that asked what future envisioned knowledge systems might need to look like and how we might get there. Findings suggest that envisioned future systems will need (...) to be much more collaborative, open, diverse, egalitarian, and able to work with values and systemic issues. They will also need to go beyond producing knowledge about our world to generating wisdom about how to act within it. To get to envisioned systems we will need to rapidly scale methodological innovations, connect innovators, and creatively accelerate learning about working with intractable challenges. We will also need to create new funding schemes, a global knowledge commons, and challenge deeply held assumptions. To genuinely be a creative force in supporting longevity of human and non-human life on our planet, the shift in knowledge systems will probably need to be at the scale of the enlightenment and speed of the scientific and technological revolution accompanying the second World War. This will require bold and strategic action from governments, scientists, civic society and sustained transformational intent. (shrink)

Sarah Waterlow; II*—The Good of Others in Plato's Republic, Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society, Volume 73, Issue 1, 1 June 1973, Pages 19–36, https://doi.o.

Philosophy and Phenomenological Research, Volume 103, Issue 3, Page 620-638, November 2021.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Disturbances and Dislocations: Understanding Teaching and Learning Experiences in Indigenous Australian Women’s Music and DanceSarah H. WattsElizabeth Mackinlay. Disturbances and Dislocations: Understanding Teaching and Learning Experiences in Indigenous Australian Women’s Music and Dance (Bern: Peter Lang, 2007).Elizabeth Mackinlay, a lecturer in the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Studies Unit at the University of Queensland, documents her unique pedagogical approaches and ways of thinking about the teaching and learning (...) of music and dance in her book, Disturbances and Dislocations: Understanding Teaching and Learning Experiences in Indigenous Australian Women’s Music and Dance. A university-level anthropology course dealing with the music and dance traditions of Australia’s Yanyuwa women was the setting for this “ethnographic case study” (p. 17). Through this course, Mackinlay sought to help students connect Indigenous Australian performance practices to social and political issues while fostering awareness of gender issues and learning processes within Indigenous Australian music and dance performance contexts. These objectives were met through a distinctive approach—by disposing of the strict lecture class format and bringing the field into the classroom. Disturbances and Dislocations documents the experiences of Mackinlay, her students, and several Yanyuwa women who come together as part of the course to engage in hands-on, authentic music and dance exchanges that bring the Yanyuwa women’s voices to the fore. [End Page 90]From the very beginning of the book, Mackinlay highlights her unique point of view as author of this work. She is a “white, middle class, educated woman” (p. 15) researching the experiences of and teaching university-level courses relating to Indigenous Australian and Torres Strait Islander peoples, a cultural background that is not her own. She is a political, educational, and ethnic outsider to the groups of peoples she studies. The wife of an Aboriginal man and mother to Aboriginal children, she is afforded links to the Yanyuwa people that provide her with a measure of status as a family member within the community. The dichotomy of being at once an insider and an outsider in the Yanyuwa community lends a fascinating level of complexity to Mackinlay’s exploration and analysis of the presence and impact of Yanyuwa culture-bearers in her classroom. The warmth, honesty, and openness with which she addresses her unique role in this learning exchange is engaging to the reader, and allows her personal situation to add humanity and life to the words on the page.The eight-chapter book commences with an introductory section that reflects upon her personal experiences in engaging in scholarship relating to Indigenous Australian issues. Additionally, the reader is introduced to the site of the ethnography, her classroom, in which her personal and professional lives intertwine. The next chapter further establishes the context of the ethnography by discussing a pilot project that laid foundations for the main study presented in the book. In this 1999 pilot project, a group of Mackinlay’s students, largely white women, participated in hands-on music and dance workshops under the guidance of Mackinlay and several Yanyuwa women. Student responses from this pilot project indicated that they felt awkward at times, but valued the time spent with the Yanyuwa guests and wished for more of these types of class sessions. Mackinlay determined that this cultural exchange could be even richer if more class time could be dedicated to it, an important observation for her own work, and also for others who seek to furnish cultural encounters for students.The fourth chapter delves into a theoretical discussion of the meanings of the inclusion of the study of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples in contemporary classroom settings. Issues of political positioning, representation of Indigenous voices, identity, and “speaking from and of in-between spaces” (p. 64) as one with a foothold in both white and Indigenous worlds are all addressed, engaging the reader in Mackinaly’s own complex journey of coming to terms with her own teaching and scholarly pursuits. It is refreshing to the reader that Mackinlay acknowledges her unique viewpoint as facilitator of this course and this research study. While she is an authority in this realm, she highlights her own backgrounds and biases, her individual lens... (shrink)

Sarah Patterson; III*—The Anomalism of Psychology, Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society, Volume 96, Issue 1, 1 June 1996, Pages 37–52, https://doi.org/10.109.

In this important book, Jennifer Scuro's lived experience presents a challenge to common ideas and assumptions about motherhood, femininity, and anti-abortion politics, as well as to the familiar content and form of philosophy. It is centered on an intensely personal, 176-page graphic novel that details the vivid aspects of Scuro's own miscarriage. Her experience serves as a philosophical allegory, challenging neoliberal and ableist assumptions that presume normalcy, expect results, and promise the false freedom of choice. Initially fitting the script (...) of "normal" motherhood and femininity, Scuro's experience brought her to the "razor's edge" of her cisgender, white privilege. The cutting truth of her story is that... (shrink)

Most scholarly fields, at least in the humanities, have been asking the same questions about the politics of encounter for hundreds of years: Should we try to find a way to encounter an other without appropriating it, without imposing ourselves on it? Is encountering‐without‐appropriating even possible? These questions are profuse and taken up with intense interest in scholarship about the personal essay, specifically, which has often been credited as a philosophical form. Within debates about the ethics of the personal essay, (...) the most significant concern is about the traditionally accepted relationship of the writer‐represented‐on‐the‐page. For example, the notable rhetoric and composition scholar, David Bartholomae, argues that students of what he calls ‘“creative nonfiction” or “literary nonfiction”’ (1995, p. 68) write ‘... as though they [are] not the products of their time, politics and culture, as though they could be free, elegant, smart, independent, the owners of all that they saw’ (p. 70). In other words, the personal essay, as a subgenre of creative or literary nonfiction, allows for the perpetuation of the fallacy that a writer can be ‘free’ of social influences, ‘independent’ of a society and of its politics, and ‘owners’ of their own perspectives and experiences—of those the writer expresses on the page, specifically. Consequently, if the writer is not conscious and critical of the social influences acting on him/her, if s/he believes the text to be the singular and uninfluenced production of his/her own self, then the topic taken up in the essay is tyrannized by the self‐centered (and dangerously un‐critically‐conscious) perspective of the writer. However, the personal essay also has its strengths as a philosophical form: in its privileging of skepticism; in its attention to complexity and complication; and even in its existence‐as‐evidence of some quality of its writer. Too, very often essays pay homage to works of other essayists, as in the case of Gass's ‘Emerson and the Essay’, instead of mowing down other works in order to establish its own reign. Despite these ethically responsible characteristics, though, I show, using Gass's essay about Emerson's work, that the personal essay continues to be devalued because of its reliance on and celebration of its transparent relationship to its author. In general, essayists don't complain in their work about the belief in this transparent relationship; they advocate it. Thus, my purpose is not to suggest that there is no relationship between the essayist and the essay. Rather, I will, in the latter half of the article, turn to the work of philosopher Emmanuel Levinas, which describes and enacts an approach to an other (writer/text) that does not hinge on the assumption that writer and text are in a transparent relationship to each other. I hope that in presenting this possibility for re‐thinking the essay (and its relationship to its writer), writers, scholars, and teachers of the essay—and even its opposition—will give it new attention and explore further the possibilities that it may provide for engagement, for encounter. (shrink)

Toward a Sociology of Conflict of Interest in Medical Research Content Type Journal Article Category Case Studies Pages 389-391 DOI 10.1007/s11673-011-9332-0 Authors Sarah Winch, School of Medicine, The University of Queensland, Queensland, Australia 4072 Michael Sinnott, School of Medicine, The University of Queensland, Queensland, Australia 4072 Journal Journal of Bioethical Inquiry Online ISSN 1872-4353 Print ISSN 1176-7529 Journal Volume Volume 8 Journal Issue Volume 8, Number 4.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Philosophy, Psychiatry, & Psychology 8.1 (2001) 41-44 [Access article in PDF] A Response to Mitchell, Hinshelwood, and Adshead Sarah Richmond Iam grateful to Juliet Mitchell for contributing, in her response to my paper, some interesting further ideas about anorexia. Before commenting on these, I would like to reply to her suggestion that a distinction between symptom and phantasy will provide a necessary corrective to my approach. I think (...) that, in relation to my usage of terms, this suggestion is mistaken.If I have understood her correctly, Mitchell maintains that we need to focus on symptoms rather than on phantasy because the former always indicate the influence of something truly unconscious, a meaning that the subject cannot recognize. On the other hand, phantasy, Mitchell says, involves a "slippage between unconscious and preconscious," between the notions of a meaning that remains disguised and inaccessible to consciousness and one that may be recognized by the subject.I meant, in my paper, to use the term phantasy in the Kleinian sense, that is, to denote mental content that is unconscious. On the Kleinian view, symptoms whose cause is psychological are expressions of (and clues to) an unconscious phantasy that underlies them: To understand symptomatic behavior, the analyst needs to understand its basis in unconscious object-relational phantasy. (Many such cases can be found in Klein's writings. In her seminal paper of 1935, for example, she cites a patient suffering from "hypochondriacal complaints" and carefully "nursing these parts of his body"; in her view, "the different organs he was trying to cure were identified with his internalized brothers and sisters, about whom he felt guilty and whom he had to be perpetually keeping alive" (Klein 275). There is not, therefore, any important distinction, as far as the line of thought pursued in my paper goes, between phantasy and symptom.In introducing the distinction, Mitchell seems to want to emphasize the distinctive, conflict-indicating nature of unconscious material and its heterogeneity with respect to conscious thought. On this, I am in agreement; indeed, my complaint against feminist "literalist" accounts of anorexia is precisely that they overlook the opacity of the unconscious, attributing such "reasonable" and straightforward conflicts to women as to render most of the explanatory resources of psychoanalytical theory redundant.In connection with this issue, it is helpful to be reminded by Mitchell of the "delusion" that often accompanies anorexia, that is, the manifestly false belief, on the sufferer's part, that she is fat. This feature of the subject's outlook must be one of the reasons that anorexia is popularly thought of as [End Page 41] a "slimmer's disease"; equally, it may have helped to encourage the view that anorexia is a response to constructions of female beauty in the media.The "delusional" aspect of the belief, however, discredits this view: Anorexic women do not stop "dieting" when they approximate to a conventional ideal of female slimness. (What about the recent use of anorexically thin fashion models? I don't think this provides a real objection to my claim; so far at least, this practice is quite rare, and I think intended more to shock than to provide an aesthetic ideal.)Anorexic women's continued abstinence from food leads them to acquire an appearance that most people find unattractively thin. Often, they become sufficiently malnourished to endanger their health and sometimes to result in their death. This behavior, surely, cannot be attributed to a desire to conform to fashion, even if that is what the woman says she is trying to do. I agree with Mitchell that the anomaly manifested in some anorexic behavior, the mismatch between what is said and done, suggests the need for explanation in terms of unconscious conflict.Nonetheless, it is plausible that the "media message" and the slimming industry play some role. As I suggested in my article, we might see this role as provocative; the message sounds a note that resonates with or encourages an adolescent's distaste for her body. Further, it may also provide her with a convenient rationalization of her behavior: "I need to diet; I look... (shrink)

Volume 20, Issue 7, July 2020, Page 86-88.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Overcoming Violence in Practice1Sarah K. PinnockIn Christian thought, the classic theological response to evil and suffering, known as "theodicy," operates on a metaphysical level. It aims to elucidate questions about God: God's power to prevent evil, God's goodness and justice, and God's purposes in allowing evil. It also examines questions about humanity: Are humans chronically prone to sin and violence? Does suffering serve good purposes? Does God redeem suffering? (...) In recent Christian attempts at theodicy, attention has focused on divine omnipotence and human freedom in attempts to exculpate God for cruelty in allowing the magnitude of suffering visible in such events as the Holocaust, where six million Jews and five million Poles, gypsies, homosexuals, and other noncombatants were killed under Nazi orders. Symmetrical with exploration of the "front end" explanatory questions of why bad things happen in a supposedly good world, theodicies also explore the "back end" justificatory questions of how God can heal the damage, unevenly and unfairly distributed, in this life or the afterlife. Key exemplars of modern theodicy are Leibniz and Hegel, thinkers who have greatly influenced twentieth-century analytic and continental philosophy of religion, respectively. Despite the urgency of responding to evil, theodicy has been criticized for its abstract, global approach to suffering and its programmatic focus on justifying God in the face of violence. My own critique of theodicy has epistemic and moral components. Theodicy rests on epistemological hubris, building precarious intellectual systems in pursuing knowledge of God. Additionally, theodicy is guilty of moral turpitude on account of its single-minded focus on explanation, which smooths over the scandal of suffering and overlooks the prevention and alleviation of violence.2Fortunately, there are more promising alternatives than theodicy in Christian thought. Particularly in the twentieth century, existentialist and Marxian philosophical movements have contributed to practical rather than theoretical emphases in response to theodicy questions. Reflection on the situatedness of the subject has prompted this shift as theology becomes more self-conscious of its cultural assumptions. Especially since the 1960s, contextual varieties of theology have emerged that recognize its socially embedded character. Theology is never purely dislocated conceptual reflection, innocent of ethical consequences, but a discourse with practical origins and effects. To use Marxian vocabulary, all theology is an "ideology" expressing the conscious and unconscious interests of a social group or class. This insight [End Page 73] does not dismiss the truth and power of theology, but forces closer examination of its production and implications. As Marx wrote in his "Theses on Feuerbach," "philosophers [and theologians] have only interpreted the world in various ways; the point, however, is to change it."3 Theology as a discourse must attend to how it functions within society to motivate opposition or acceptance of violence. Also, it must attend to how reliably it exposes and articulates violence within its vocabulary, and what social cases of violence it addresses.I propose that the shift toward practical or contextual Christian anti-theodicy responses to violence resonates with Buddhist attention to practice, rather than speculation, in answer to suffering. To use a well-known image from the Buddha's teaching, all human beings are like persons pierced with poisoned arrows. All suffer grievously because of craving and desire, and desperately long for relief. In such a condition of life, sliding toward death while suffering, what is the most urgent need: to find out how to remove the poisoned arrow and heal the wound, or to find out where the arrow came from and why it was shot?4 Of course, the moral of the story is that the alleviation of suffering is primary and urgent. It would be foolish to searchfor an explanation instead of a cure for the poison. Understanding the cosmic origins of suffering is a distraction, irrelevant to alleviating suffering and detrimental to practice. Preoccupation with metaphysical speculation does not produce wisdom. Such wisdom is the fruit of awareness resulting from meditation training.In presenting my ideas to a forum for Buddhist-Christian dialogue, I am very much aware of the perils of comparative thinking. My understanding of Buddhism reflects the Westernized transmission of Mahayana Zen Buddhist traditions, based on writings intended for an... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Buddhist-Christian Studies 23 (2003) 155-157 [Access article in PDF] Religious Feminism and the Future of the Planet: A Buddhist-Christian Conversation. By Rita M.Gross and Rosemary Radford Ruether. New York: Continuum, 2001. 229 pp. Is feminism indigenous to Buddhism and Christianity? Or must feminists reinvent their religious traditions? The probing autobiographical reflections by Rita Gross and Rosemary Ruether expose the tensions of feminist reform. Like many religious feminists, they claim (...) to preserve continuity with tradition despite their innovations. But upon reading Religious Feminism and the Future of the Planet, the similarities between feminist Buddhism and feminist Christianity lead me to wonder whether feminism plays a more formative role than tradition in shaping their visions of the future.The ingenious structure of the book allows the opportunity for maximum dialogue. [End Page 155] Authors write chapters paired on the same topic, and each chapter has a short response attached. This organization mirrors the real-life dialogue between Gross and Ruether that occurred at a workshop in Grailville, Ohio, in 1999. The back-and-forth movement allows for meta-reflection on feminist interpretation, on the self-understandings of scholars who practice the traditions that they study.The first two chapters are autobiographical. There is an especially detailed account of Gross's journey toward Tibetan Buddhism and a shorter chapter on the evolution of Ruether's Catholic identity. The second pair of chapters responds to patriarchal religious origins. Ruether's critique of Christian sexism is theological, dealing with Christology, anthropology, and ecclesiology. In contrast, Gross asserts that the Buddhist "view" or theology is nonsexist and even feminist, thus she considers male leadership as the main obstacle to women. The difficulty of defending such large claims in a short space is compensated by the fact that their conclusions have already been developed in previous publications.Striking parallels emerge when the authors identify what is most liberating in their tradition and most inspiring in the other tradition. In both cases, mindfulness practice in Buddhism and the prophetic voice in Christianity are singled out. The overarching message is that Christians can learn about prayer from Buddhists, and Buddhists can learn about social critique from Christians. Another crucial parallel occurs when the authors choose one key social problem to address religiously—they both focus on environmental ethics. They agree that loving care for the earth is the key to both ecological and human flourishing.One asymmetry, however, concerns sensitivity to departure from tradition. In particular, Gross questions whether by utilizing "prophetic" critique she is applying an extrinsic Hebrew and Christian viewpoint to Tibetan Buddhist reflection. I greatly admire how she faces up to the problem of discontinuity between feminist critique and Buddhist institutions rather than insist that the tradition is inchoately feminist. Ruether, on the other hand, does not take the discontinuity between traditional and feminist Christian viewpoints as seriously, although she undoubtedly reshapes Christianity, particularly theological doctrines, into new forms.From a Christian perspective, I notice striking omissions in Ruether's presentation concerning the subject of prayer and the theme of suffering. When Ruether experimented with lay monastic practice early on in her career, she became impatient with silence and intensive prayer as isolating and unproductive. In her autobiographical chapter, she speaks of turning away from prayer toward social engagement. Yet she also mentions admiration for certain contemporary monks and nuns who are on the vanguard of creative worship and ethical engagement. Although she admires Buddhist mindfulness, she does not take seriously analogous Christian meditative practices and their capacity to sustain social activism. She leaves the impression that prayer and action are separate paths, whereas Christian prayer and resistance may be closely associated.The nature of suffering and its overcoming are topics central to Christianity and Buddhism, as well as to feminist thought. For feminists, reflection on suffering tends [End Page 156] to concentrate on exposing and removing its causes, such as abuse, oppression, or violence. Buddhists also focus on cessation of suffering, but "suffering" is centrally an individual barrier to overcome before social issues can be corrected. In contrast, Christians think about... (shrink)

A work that takes up development as its key theme must also inherently be a work about time. Typically, developmental psychology assumes an objective, linear progression of time that moves from the past and into the future in a rather orderly fashion. We move steadily along this line in a forward motion. However, as Talia Welsh demonstrates in The Child as Natural Phenomenologist, such an assumption will over-determine our understanding of childhood development. It too will be viewed as mostly linear (...) (although with possible regressions, delays or alacrity), having a predictable, “normal” course in which an earlier stage is overcome by a more sophisticated one. An objective and linear course of development is one of many prejudices that adults tend to impose on their interpretations of children’s behavior. This presumption is one of several that Talia Welsh takes up. In contrast, she argues: “no single path of development exists” (15) and favors a more open approach that more effectivel .. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Hebdomads: Boethius Meets the Neopythagoreans1Sarah Pessin1the thesis of this article is three-fold. First, I suggest, uncontroversially, that Boethius was in many ways influenced by Neopythagorean ideas. Second, I recommend that in light of our appreciation of his Neopythagorean inclinations in at least some of his writings, we understand his esoteric reference to the “hebdomads”—at the outset of his treatise often called by that name—as a reference to something Neopythagorean. (...) This I suggest in light of the fact that, as I will discuss, the “hebdomad” plays an important role within the Neopythagorean literature of Nicomachus of Gerasa, an author with whose writings Boethius was intimately familiar. Lastly, I suggest—following Dillon’s analysis of the Triad and the Hebdomad within Nicomachus’ works—an interpretation of the ‘hebdomad’ within the Neopythagorean corpus which, if correct, would make appropriate Boethius’ reference to it at the outset of a treatise on the nature of God and creation.2In his introductory remarks to the Quomodo Substantiae,2 a short but difficult theological treatise on the nature of goodness and its relation to being (esse), Boethius gives his reader fair warning:... tu ne sis obscuritatibus brevitatis adversus, quae cum sint arcani fida custodia turn id habent commodi, quod cum his solis qui digni sunt conloquuntur. [End Page 29]... do not you take objection to obscurities consequent on brevity, which are the sure treasure-house of secret doctrine and have the advantage that they speak only with those who are worthy.3While itself somewhat obscure, this statement seems to suggest that a clear explication of the treatise would involve the clarification of certain notions which Boethius chooses not to clarify, and hence, the uninitiated reader will be met with obscurity.4 Consider this suggested reading especially in light of what immediately follows: After listing nine brief axioms, we are told that: “These preliminaries are enough then for our purpose. The intelligent interpreter of the discussion will supply the arguments appropriate to each point.”5 What is most important to note in support of the claim that Boethius is intentionally obscuring the content of the work which follows, is that he never refers to these obscure axioms again—not in way of explaining them, or even in way of helping the reader use them to elucidate the subject matter which follows, (which is apparently what they are capable of doing). Furthermore, this lack of explanation and expansion on his part appears—as evidenced in the above quote—to be in line with his intended purposes in this treatise. It seems that the “intelligent interpreter” to whom he refers is the reader who is knowledge-able of certain ideas which Boethius prefers not to elaborate upon in this treatise, and who should at least in theory therefore be able to arrive at a full understanding of the arguments which follow.6The veil of obscurity which we seem to meet in the terse nature of the content of the treatise itself, then, also seems apparent in Boethius’ esoteric reference to the “hebdomads” at the outset of the treatise:You ask me to state and explain somewhat more clearly that obscure question in my Hebdomads concerning the manner in which substances are good in virtue of existence without being substantial goods. You urge that this demonstration is necessary because the method of this kind of treatise is not clear to all... But I think over my Hebdomads with myself, and I keep my speculations in my own memory rather than share them with any of those pert and frivolous persons who will not tolerate an argument unless it [End Page 30] is made amusing.7 Wherefore do not you take objection to obscurities stemming from brevity... 8Boethius’ reference to his “hebdomads” here is perplexing.Looking to the Greek word for ‘seven,’ (‘hepta’), it has been suggested that these ‘hebdomads,’ (lit., ‘groups of seven,’ or simply ‘sevens’), might simply refer to a weekly meeting group (i.e., a ‘seminar’), which Boethius attended, and which provided him the impetus to compose the treatise in question. Others suggest that this ‘group of sevens’ refers to the list of axioms which follows (which some... (shrink)

Volume 27, Issue 4, July 2019, Page 673-683.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Storytelling and Narrative Knowing:An Examination of the Epistemic Benefits of Well-Told StoriesSarah E. Worth (bio)IntroductionPeople love to tell stories. When something scary, or funny, or out of the ordinary happens, we cannot wait to tell others about it. If it was really funny, etc., we tell the story repeatedly, embellishing as we see fit, shortening or lengthening it as the circumstances prescribe. When people are bad storytellers we tend (...) not to pay as close attention to their stories; our minds drift, and we hope for a swift conclusion. We tend not to remember those stories as well as the ones that were carefully constructed and skillfully delivered. Storytelling is one of our primary forms of communication with other people. Narrativity is the principle way that human beings order their experience in time. It is also one of the primary ways that humans make coherent sense out of seemingly unrelated sequences of events. Thus, an account of how this ordering works is essential to understanding one of the many ways of knowing used by humans, one that has been widely unaccounted for, I believe. What I will argue in this article is that reading, telling, and hearing well-constructed narratives are not just idle pastimes that we have created for entertainment purposes or even as a mere means of communication. Rather, there are epistemological benefits to reading, hearing, and telling well-constructed narratives. In particular, by practicing what I call narrative reasoning, we develop this skill, just as by practicing discursive reasoning we develop discursive reasoning skills. In turn, we develop an enhanced reasoning ability that arises from narrative reasoning and narrative meaning construction. Ultimately, I will argue that those who are able to develop the capacity to reason narratively will be able to have a more comprehensive understanding of the human experience. [End Page 42]Defining NarrativeTo begin, I will go into some detail about what I mean when I talk about narratives since the reasoning skills that will ultimately come from engaging with narratives will be related to the way that we come to understand and make sense of them. Since I do not intend to posit a theory of narrative, I will talk about what constitutes narrativity and what sort of features contribute to increasing the narrativity of a story. To begin, narrative is generally the representation of an event or sequence of events. It is closely tied to description, but it goes beyond description. "My cat has fleas" is a description of a state of affairs. "My cat was bitten by a flea" is a narrative about my cat, which includes a description. Some theorists (such as Barthes and Rimmon-Kenan) argue that a narrative must consist of more than one event or state of affairs in order to be minimally considered a narrative. For my purposes, the change in states of affairs from one to another will be essential for understanding the cognitive aspects that can be gained from engaging with narrative. Although I do not advocate a minimal requirement for something to be considered a narrative, at least two, if not multiple, states of affairs increase narrativity significantly. Narratives also have a unified subject and some relatively easily understood temporal structure. Although many narratives do not order all of their events sequentially, good narratives will have a temporal order that can be gleaned by its reader.1An annal might be something that is temporally ordered and likely have more than two events or states of affairs, and for this reason it might be put into a category of "story form." The primary principle of organization of an annal, however, is merely a temporal list of events. It cannot count as a full-fledged narrative since it may be a temporal list of events that has no unified subject. For example,A: "The Space shuttle Challenger explodes in 1988, the Berlin wall comes down in 1989, there is a massacre at Srebenica, Bosnia in 1995."B: "The Space Shuttle Columbia blows up upon reentry to Earth; the Space Shuttle Challenger explodes upon take off."A is a temporally ordered list of events and is an annal; B, however, is... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:For More than One Voice: Toward a Philosophy of Vocal ExpressionSarah K. Burgess and Stuart J. MurrayFor More than One Voice: Toward a Philosophy of Vocal Expression. Adriana Cavarero. Trans. Paul A. Kottman. Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2005. Pp. 262. $65.00, hardcover; $24.95, paperback.Adriana Cavarero's most recent book, For More than One Voice, offers the reader a critique of Western metaphysics that challenges the hegemony of speech's relation (...) to thought within politics. Revisiting Aristotle's Politics, Cavarero examines the famous definition of man as "zoon logon echon"—usually translated as "rational animal." She is critical of the tradition that renders logos here as "reason" or "rationality," modeled on the abstract and disembodied Platonic idea. Reading the Politics alongside the Poetics, she brings politics into a distinctly rhetorical sphere, and therefore figures logos as "phone semantike." In this light, man is a "speaking animal," an animal who speaks with a voice (phone) that is meaningful (semantike—an adjectival form that qualifies the voice itself). Cavarero's argument is that voice and meaning—phonic and semantic—must be sharply distinguished. The history of Western philosophy, she contends, has effaced this vital difference and focused instead on speech as a unitary phenomenon in which the vocalic and the semantic are always already joined as meaningful signification. In this way, the singularity of the vocalic itself has been elided in favor of speech that strongly privileges meaning. She therefore wishes to deliver us from language, as it were, through a recuperation of the force of the vocalic, the acoustic, the resonant and sonorous auditory quality of phone.Absent in the history of Western philosophy, this sonorous aspect of the vocalic stands as a corrective to our logocentric metaphysical tradition that singularly values the visual over the acoustic, semantic content over vocal utterances, and an abstract, anonymous "what" over a particular, embodied "who." Cavarero claims that the vocalic is an "anti-metaphysical" force that exceeds and challenges signification. In other words, the vocalic immediately communicates the uniqueness of the speaker without recourse to the signifying content of his or her speech. The voice is essentially relational—a relation that is described as "the condition of every communication.... the communicability of the communicable, or the significance of signification" (29). Indeed, for Cavarero the voice is that which "precedes, generates, and exceeds verbal communication" [End Page 166] (29–30). In this way, remarkably, Cavarero refigures the voice as a presymbolic origin that is both temporally and ontologically prior to signification, as that which is a condition of possibility for signification, and as that which is never exhausted by any signifying speech act as such.The voice is the expression of one unique, embodied individual to another. This expression, a "reciprocal invocation" founded in the sonorous, rhythmic, and resonant materiality of the voice, constitutes a "duet," a musical exchange of voices in and through which individuals mutually invoke one another. Cavarero resists inscribing such a relation within the symbolic realm; yet for her this relation is a "wordless language" that takes place in the paradigmatic scene between mother and infant. Here, in this originary scene, there is not yet the movement of language or speech as such, but the rhythm and cadence of demand and response—the voices of mother and infant that invoke one another. Drawing on Hélène Cixous's and Julia Kristeva's well-known work on the maternal chora, Cavarero demonstrates that the cadence of the "la-la melody" exchanged between mother and infant "configure[s] a reciprocal dependence" (170) that takes a structural form in the movement between demand and response.For Cavarero, the "scene of infancy" enjoys a primacy: it is both ontologically and chronologically prior to the institution of language and law. The maternal chora is figured as that which invisibly underwrites what will be understood as the law of the father—a law that is said to mark the inauguration of language. But if the law of the father is rational and semantic, the maternal should not be conceived as simply irrational and pure sound. For Cavarero, the maternal vocalic demonstrates its own reason through its rhythmic and musical resonance... (shrink)

The American Journal of Bioethics, Volume 12, Issue 6, Page 35-37, June 2012.

Volume 20, Issue 9, September 2020, Page 39-41.

Abstract Can the wise person be fooled? The Stoics take a very strong view on this question, holding that the wise person (or sage) is never deceived and never believes anything that is false. This seems to be an implausibly strong claim, but it follows directly from some basic tenets of the Stoic cognitive and psychological world-view. In developing an account of what wisdom really requires, I will explore the tenets of the Stoic view that lead to this infallibilism about (...) wisdom, and show that many of the elements of the Stoic picture can be preserved in a more plausible fallibilist approach. Specifically, I propose to develop a Stoic fallibilist virtue epistemology that is based on the Stoic model of the moral virtues. This model of the intellectual virtues will show that (in keeping with a folk distinction) the wise person is never befooled, though that person might be fooled. Content Type Journal Article Pages 1-14 DOI 10.1007/s12136-012-0158-0 Authors Sarah Wright, Department of Philosophy, University of Georgia, 107 Peabody Hall, Athens, GA 30602, USA Journal Acta Analytica Online ISSN 1874-6349 Print ISSN 0353-5150. (shrink)

One of a handful of texts written by Sarah Kofman in the interim between the publication of her Explosion, a 700-page analysis of Ecce Homo, and her sudden death in 1994, ‘And Yet It Q...

Discusses songs by the troubadours, trouvères, and Guillaume de Machaut, performed live and on the page, in the context of antique, late antique, and medieval thought and poetic practice and in the light of later opera. Topics include cosmology, education, astronomy, breath, beasts, monsters, hybridity, imagination, life, and death.

Scholars of the Middle Ages are reflecting productively on the sound not only of the text, but of the book.1 Formed from the skins of dead animals, parchment pages have a positive and intimate bond with silence in a way that paper does not. And yet the same or similar animal membranes are used for drum skins, tambourines, or the bellows of bagpipes, while the body of the human reader, enveloped in a skin that closely resembles parchment and is near (...) kin to it, is notable for its own resonating surfaces. Hearing ranges over and within these membranes where silence oscillates with sound and pleasure with discomfort, their reverberations alternately welcomed or shunned.In grappling with the question of how to read... (shrink)

Volume 52, Issue 8, July 2020, Page 824-824.

La 4ème de couverture indique : « Le portrait de Dorian Gray, exhibé dès les premières pages du livre de Wilde auquel il donne son titre, fascine d’emblée le lecteur. La lecture proposée ici souligne que ce portrait, pour ainsi dire jeté en pâture, sert d’écran ou de paravent à un autre portrait encore plus séducteur et inquiétant, en général moins remarqué, celui de la mère morte, représentée en bacchante, qui le hante secrètement. Outre L’imposture de la beauté, ce recueil (...) comprend une étude sur Le Moïse de Michel-Ange de Freud : Un autre Moïse, ou la Force de la loi ; deux lectures consacrées à Nietzsche : Nietzsche et Wagner, Nietzsche et Voltaire (Et pourtant elle tremble!) ; Un battu imbattable, à propos de Larmes de clown, du cinéaste Victor Sjöström ainsi que Angoisse et catharsis, sur The Lady Vanishes, d’Alfred Hitchcock. ». (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:A Thicker Jesus: Incarnational Discipleship in a Secular Age by Glen Harold StassenSarah A. NeeleyA Thicker Jesus: Incarnational Discipleship in a Secular Age Glen Harold Stassen Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2012. 280pp. $25.00Glen Stassen’s A Thicker Jesus addresses how one can find a solid ethical identity that provides a framework and path in a rapidly changing world. Stassen begins by considering what those who have stood (...) the test of history, such as Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Karth Barth, Martin Luther King, and Dorothy Day, among others, have in common. He effectively argues that the common thread among these great leaders of resistance is a “thick” exegetical understanding of Jesus Christ that is implemented in daily life through incarnational discipleship. Such a “thick” interpretation of Jesus of Nazareth is rooted in Christian realism rather than Platonic idealism, meaning that incarnational discipleship does not attempt to apply lofty ideals to reality but is deeply involved, following Jesus of Nazareth, in historical struggles. Stassen then argues that this type of ethic can address all of the problems posed to ethics and faith in “a secular age” outlined by Charles Taylor’s book of the same title.Stassen’s framework of incarnational discipleship in a secular age addresses each of Taylor’s seven problems through a tapestry of argumentation that includes history, biblical exegesis, the tradition of Christian ethics, science, and politics. The work is critically engaged with historical figures in Christian ethics and current voices in the field. Stassen contributes a unique voice to the conversation by drawing upon his experiences with science as a trained physicist and with politics through his father’s gubernatorial career. Where many chose critical engagement with the natural and social sciences or with theological and biblical interpretation, Stassen does both. He approaches physics, politics, and economics with theological rigor, drawing upon traditional theological claims and offering his own critique and adaptation. Stassen, in his typical style, draws extensively on the Christian Scriptures. However, he does not simply reference numerous verses but further enhances the complexity of his argumentation through careful exegesis of the Sermon on the Mount, which he is known for, and of the Gospel of Mark.Stassen’s careful examination of the Sermon on the Mount and Mark offers the reader a picture of the particular understanding of Jesus that Stassen argues needs to be “thickly” interpreted; nonetheless, the book does not address [End Page 200] the consequences of other interpretations of Jesus being made “thicker” and the ethical dilemmas of such interpretations. To his credit, Stassen draws on several womanist interpretations of the cross as suffering in solidarity with the oppressed. But what about womanists who claim that any value placed on the suffering of the cross might lead to the excuse that the suffering of the oppressed is, in fact, redemptive suffering? Does a “thicker” interpretation of the cross necessarily address this problem?Overall, Stassen’s contribution to the field cannot be understated. He insists on addressing social problems on their own terms in the language of history, politics, economics, and science; he also rigorously engages theological and biblical ethics when such things have gone out of fashion in social ethics. As an added bonus, Stassen is clear in his call for pluralism and multiple ethical approaches while at the same time offering a rich account rooted in an interpretation of Jesus for Christians.Sarah A. NeeleyIliff School of Theology/University of DenverCopyright © 2013 Society of Christian Ethics... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:All You That Labor: Religion and Ethics in the Living Wage Movement by C. Melissa SnarrSarah A. NeeleyAll You That Labor: Religion and Ethics in the Living Wage Movement C. Melissa Snarr New York: New York University Press, 2011. 205pp. $49.00Melissa Snarr’s All You That Labor offers an ethical and sociological analysis of the role of religious and feminist organizations in the living wage movement, both of which (...) have been previously overlooked. Snarr not only brings religion [End Page 194] into the conversation but also effectively demonstrates that religious activism has played a significant role in the US living wage movement since its conception in Baltimore. Although Snarr is an activist in the movement, her academic rigor comes through as her research weaves the stories and experiences of other activists with the rich religious traditions of Walter Rauschenbusch, John Ryan, and Martin Luther King Jr. She argues that religious leaders are well equipped to provide leadership and change the conversation on the topic since they are versed in ethical arguments and challenging ideologies. Religious activists, as Snarr aptly shows, have brought attention to the issues of race and gender oppression in wage discrimination, which is significant since Snarr provides statistical evidence that persons of color and women are significantly underpaid in the United States.One of the many strengths of the book is Snarr’s unique perspective on the topic. She provides arguments that are both sociological and ethical. The work beautifully combines the two disciplines to offer a well-balanced history of the movement, analysis of key issues, and critique of society. Furthermore, the feminist work is written by an insider, one of the activists in the movement, without neglecting research or critique. At no point does Snarr oversimplify the issues related to the movement. She offers a complex view of multiple poverties and does not allow the living wage movement to be reduced to economic discourse. Spiritual, emotional, physical, and political poverties receive equal attention alongside monetary poverty with the statement that “most people in poverty experience the intersection of multiple poverties simultaneously” (23). The argument and ethical imperative is clear: systems of oppression are widespread and attempt to destroy on multiple fronts, and religious activism is well suited to provide the multidimensional, holistic response needed to adequately confront economic oppression of groups with a long history at the margins.Perhaps one of the greatest contributions of Snarr’s book is that it is a work in feminist ethics that pays equal attention to women and people of color. An entire chapter on wage discrimination is expected from a white feminist; however, there is an equally detailed chapter on racial discrimination before the chapter on gender justice. The chapter on race argues that the movement itself provides an example for racial justice because it is one of the most racially diverse social action movements. The chapter on gender provides complexity to the systems of sexism as Snarr argues that the movement furthers gender oppression through unpaid or underpaid activist positions filled by women. What is not clear is how the issues of sexism and racism are related in the larger system of economic oppression.Snarr provides example after example of approaches and actions that were effective, although some only to a small extent, and the book concludes with an invitation for the reader to join the movement with a vision for future [End Page 195] justice. Snarr’s book is a timely academic account of the living wage problem and an ethical call for action when the economic future, especially for the United States poor, remains uncertain and worker justice is beginning to receive attention.Sarah A. NeeleyIliff School of Theology/University of DenverCopyright © 2013 Society of Christian Ethics... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Let’s Start AgainSarah Wood (bio)Nicholas Royle. After Derrida. Manchester: Manchester UP, 1995.Robert Smith. Derrida and Autobiography. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1995.start... v. i. to shoot, dart, move suddenly forth, or out: to spring up or forward: to strain forward: to break away: to make a sudden or involuntary movement as of surprise or becoming aware: to spring open, out of place, or loose: to begin to move: of a car, (...) engine, etc. to begin to work, to fire, combust: to set forth on a journey, race, career.—v. t. to begin: to set going: to set on foot: to set up: to drive from lair or hiding place: to cause or undergo displacement or loosening of: to startle (obs.): to pour out or shoot.—n. a sudden movement: a sudden involuntary motion of the body: a startled feeling: a spurt: an outburst or fit: a beginning of movement, esp. of a journey, race, or career: a beginning: a setting in motion: a help in or opportunity of beginning: an advantage in being early or ahead: the extent of such advantage in time or distance: a beginning of building work on a new house-site....—Chambers DictionaryAh, did you once see Shelley plain, And did he stop and speak to you And did you speak to him again? How strange it seems and new!But you were living before that, And also you are living after; And the memory I started at— My starting moves your laughter.—Robert Browning, “Memorabilia”The Shelley whose appearance regularly shocks Browning is, of course, a ghost. The bare fact of talking with a ghost is bound to be curious and impressive—enough to make one start. But at the same time it’s not unusual to converse with ghosts, and this generalization can be taken beyond the sphere of literature, beyond the notion of writers struggling with the mighty dead for imaginative priority, as it is conceived in Harold Bloom’s readings of Browning, for instance. Derrida insists that relationship in general requires the spectral: “[w]hat happens between two, and between all the ‘two’s’ one likes, such as between life and death, can only maintain itself with some ghost, can only talk with or about some ghost [s’entretenir de quelque fantôme]” [Derrida, Specters of Marx xviii]. Perhaps, then, what happens in and between the two books reviewed here needs to be approached in terms of ghosts and the psychoanalysis of ghosts, so powerfully thematized by Nicholas Royle. [End Page 4] Both his After Derrida and Robert Smith’s Derrida and Autobiography seek to make contact with something in writing that gets things going and produces breaks, that displaces and startles. Although each volume could still be called a monograph on Derrida, it responds to something other than a corpus.The sense of shock, wonder, and discontinuity that makes the imagined interlocutor in “Memorabilia” laugh illuminates also something playing itself out across the reception of Derrida’s work. Part of that reception could be conceived in familiar terms—the development of a canon of what could be called Derrida commentaries, the establishment of a set of themes readily associated with Derrida studies (charlatanism, the deconstruction of a metaphysics of presence, and so on). Yet to speak with or about ghosts entails having to start reading, listening, and thinking again, in order to broach familiarity anew without innocent recourse to sheer intuition. These books also, despite their scholarly knowledge of the field, share a sense of responsibility to discuss an aspect of writing—hard to ignore in Derrida—that has begun without commentary, that gets commentary started and that subjects the movement of thought to something like fits. Whether these fits are of phobia, laughter, melancholy, delirium, or anger, their irruption marks interesting gaps in thought’s continuity. More than moods, these strange outbursts might be understood better in terms of the theory of metapsychological “phantoms.” The phantom, according to Nicolas Abraham, is “sustained by secreted words, invisible gnomes whose aim is to wreak havoc, from within the unconscious, in the coherence of logical progression” [“Notes on the Phantom” 175]. The phantom is also “alien to the subject... (shrink)

This essay imagines Derrida by starting from the first page of Glas – read in terms of extinction and global warming. On that page we come across the imperative ‘stay and think’ and the rest of the piece addresses the condensations and displacements by which that staying and thinking are imagined and enacted. An unimaginable ecological crisis faces us today. Hearing, dreaming, and reading emerge from Glas as distinctively strange and necessary forms of agency that can sustain our (...) efforts to think non-destructively in response. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Christians Talk About Buddhist Meditation; Buddhists Talk About Christian PrayerSarah K. PinnockChristians Talk About Buddhist Meditation; Buddhists Talk About Christian Prayer. Edited by Rita M. Gross and Terry C. Muck. London: Continuum, 2003. 157 pp.It is popularly assumed that meditation enhances well-being and relieves stress. In the West, Asian practices are taught to persons from mainly Christian and Jewish backgrounds as new forms of spirituality, often presented as (...) dramatically different from monotheistic traditions. Yet some practitioners consider meditation and other forms of Asian spirituality as enhancing rather than replacing worship of God.This book presents essays by twelve authors that explore similarities and differences between Buddhist meditation and Christian prayer. The book reprints pieces that originally appeared in the journal Buddhist-Christian Studies in 2001 and 2002. It is thoroughly dialogical in format. Part 1 contains five Christian reflections on Buddhist spiritual practice followed by two Buddhist responses, while part 2 consists of five Buddhist reflections on Christian spiritual practice with two Christian responses. Many of the contributors are connected with the Society for Buddhist-Christian Studies. Importantly, they combine academic and experiential knowledge of the two religions. The collection is framed by an introduction by Terry Muck and a conclusion by Rita Gross, the book's editors, who are Christian and Buddhist practitioners, respectively. The symmetry of the chapter layout is pleasing and apt.Sociologically, the major impetus for this dialogue is the fact that a growing number of Christians have found Buddhist meditation fruitful. However, these Christians have not left behind their original religious identification. As they interact with Buddhists, dialogue has emerged comparing the two traditions. Clearly for Christians practicing some Buddhism, the emphasis is on mutual appreciation and commonality. To examine the motivation for interreligious dialogue, it is fitting to ask, whose interests does the dialogue serve? First and foremost, the interests are Christian. While Christian authors have gained from Buddhist spiritual practice, Buddhists have not adapted Christian prayer techniques in return. But although the genealogy of dialogue has Christian origins, the editors intend to take a neutral approach. They frame the topic broadly and invite [End Page 204] contributors to remark on any facet of the other tradition, including critical points.In part 1, Frances Adeney, Mary Frohlich, Paul Ingram, Terry Muck, and Bardwell Smith express how aspects of Buddhist meditation have enriched their Christian spirituality. Adeney learned techniques of Buddhist silent meditation from a Jesuit priest in Indonesia that enable heightened awareness of God's presence. Frohlich belongs to a Catholic religious order for women and finds Buddhism helpful for developing discipline in prayer. For Ingram, Buddhist meditation is one ingredient in a spiritual journey focused on social liberation and discovering God's presence. Muck has found reflection on Theravada teaching about morality (sila) to be an impetus to overcome the theological dichotomy between faith and works and to develop the importance of spiritual readiness that cuts across religious traditions. Smith's participation in interfaith pilgrimage and meditation illustrates the spiritual discipline that Buddhism offers.There are many overlapping insights among these chapters that Grace Burford helpfully summarizes in her response essay: first, Buddhist practice can confirm aspects of Christian practice, such as silent prayer; second, the encounter with Buddhism can lead Christians to uncover untapped streams within Christianity, especially monastic and mystical traditions; third, Buddhism can offer unique new techniques to Christians, such as zazen, which provide rigor in developing mental concentration. Christian appreciation of Buddhism blurs religious boundaries but never requires abandonment of church or creed. Robert Thurman's response concludes with a comment on the postmodern insecurity about boundaries, and praises these Christian authors for resisting the hardening of religious identities. He reminds readers of the Dalai Lama's exhortation that conversion to Buddhism is not generally the best option for non-Buddhists drawn to his Tibetan tradition. Rather, he advises taking what seems good in Buddhism to enrich one's original religion, thus remaining integrated with family members, communities, and local customs.In part 2, the contributions of Buddhist authors display more academic distance because of the fact that the authors are not engaged in Christian practices in their Buddhist lives. But the essays... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Transcendence and Violence: The Encounter of Buddhist, Christian, and Primal TraditionsSarah K. PinnockTranscendence and Violence: The Encounter of Buddhist, Christian, and Primal Traditions. By John D'Arcy May. New York: Continuum, 2003. 225 + xi pp.In popular media, religion appears as a dangerous social phenomenon with explosive potential. The investigation of transcendence as a source of violence is particularly timely in light of America's war on terrorism targeting extremist (...) Islam. However, this negative dimension of religion is nothing new. Over the course of history, hostility [End Page 231] and killing are intimately connected with religious divisions. The irony of religious violence as a betrayal of religious ethical ideals is both obvious and inescapable.Approaching this hot topic from the perspective of religious imperialism, John D'Arcy May examines violence perpetrated by the Christian and Buddhist traditions against indigenous religions. His investigation covers damaging evidence against these two universalizing traditions using geographically specific case studies in Asia and the Pacific Rim. Situating Christianity and Buddhism in parallel as religions of transcendence, he compares how indigenous localized religions were overpowered by expansionist universalizing religions, although not eradicated. Into his historical narrative, he weaves his personal encounters with otherness growing up in Australia while virtually oblivious to the oppression of Aboriginals by white settlers, and as a Roman Catholic doing ecumenical work in Papua New Guinea for four years.May opens the book with bold admission of the failures of European Christianity, evidenced in anti-Judaism and Holocaust genocide, and Theravada Buddhism's violent involvement in Sri Lanka's civil conflict between Singhalese nationalists and Hindu Tamils. The reader is led to expect elaboration on the moral failings of Christianity, and this proves true; however, May's examination of the Buddhism's expansion and endorsement of violence tempers the tendency to single out Christianity as uniquely imperialist. He suggests that transcendence itself can cause hierarchy and oppression.Part I of the book focuses on Christianity and violence. Chapter 1 studies how European Protestant and Catholic settlers to Australia treated the Aboriginal peoples. The story is grim. Using a psychoanalytic framework, May interprets the European vilification of Aboriginals as stemming from the repression of the primal other, and the repression of bio-cosmic religion in favor of transcendence. Constructively, he proposes that Aboriginal peoples can offer theological insights about the ontology of sacred space. Christians should not only seek reconciliation in society, but also consider new perspectives on the sacred in nature drawn from the dreaming of Aboriginal religious lore.In chapter 2, May deals with colonization in the Melanesian Islands of the Pacific Ocean, concentrating on Papua New Guinea. In the indigenous religions of Melanesia, the prosperous community is the measure of religious rectitude, while misfortune is explained by the breaking of taboos and the revenge of enemies or evil spirits. After European colonization, "cargo cults" arose among the islands that promised abundant material goods possessed by European settlers by means of religious rituals and magic. Surprisingly, May points out the positive impulses at the root of these cargo cults that are typically viewed as detrimental and even outlawed outright by local governments for their harmful social impact. At bottom, he argues, cargo cults reflect a positive religious aspiration for wholeness and healing in this life that is a counterpoint to the spiritualization of salvation by European Christianity.May tries to avoid idealizing these primal cultures and their religious insights; nevertheless, he finds them instructive for Christian theology. Native religions in both Australia and Papua New Guinea offer models of immanence that emphasize the religious value of nature and just relationships. It should be mentioned that [End Page 232] there is some nuance to this conclusion. For instance, Melanesian religion is portrayed as less exemplary than Australian aboriginal religion. But May's main point is that violence on a global scale is validated by Christian notions of transcendence that deny the material aspirations of the indigenous community, and promote a superiority that wreaks violence among indigenous peoples. Hopefully, intercultural theology will allow Christians to appreciate the Aboriginal respect for sacred geography and the Melanesian quest for the flourishing of one's local community.Christianity and Buddhism are treated... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:If You’re Not Part of the Solution...Sarah GilesI worked on an island that lured people to their deaths. I have come to realize that there are certain resources that every population must have in order to continue to exist. Health care providers are needed if a group is to continue to reside in one place. Without nurses and doctors, people tend to refuse to go to a location (...) or choose not to stay. Perhaps if doctors like me refused to work in places where people have their basic human rights ignored, those places would cease to exist. It’s wishful thinking, but it’s the only way I can imagine the events of December 15th, 2010, could have been prevented. [End Page E11]Australia has a large offshore detention center on Christmas Island, a tiny dot in the middle of the Indian Ocean. Housed in a collection of prison–like facilities are men, women, and children who have come to an Australian Island claiming they are refugees. They have paid an average of $10,000 (U.S. dollars) to be smuggled by boat from nearby Indonesia and are then, usually, intercepted by the Australian navy or coast guard, and brought to the island to await processing. This processing can take two to four years and, even then, it can end with deportation. The asylum seekers spend years in a massively overcrowded and unstimulating purgatory.To say that I was not familiar with the political situation on the island would be a farcical under-statement. As a Canadian family doctor, I went to work on Christmas Island because of its exotic location and reputation for world–class SCUBA diving. It sounded like a dreamy place to do a locum. The little research I had done told me that there was a detention center on the island, but I had been told that I would only deal with those patients if they were sick enough to come into hospital. I didn’t imagine that I would end up feeling culpable for the deaths of 48 people who dreamed of restarting their lives in Australia.On December 15th, 2010, a rickety boat carrying approximately 100 asylum seekers somehow slipped past the navy and coast guard into the water just off of Christmas Island. The weather was foreboding and the waves were massive. As the boat approached the island, it lost power and, horrifically, smashed into the cliffs, leaving an estimated 48 men, women, and children to drown and an almost equal number in need of rescue and medical attention. My name was on the call schedule that day. All survivors were brought to the hospital. Our worlds collided.At the time, I thought it was good luck there was an extra doctor on the island that day. I was relieved that we were able to cope with the mass casualty situation and that only few survivors were sick or injured enough to require evacuation to the main land. Three years later, I wonder if the accident would have happened at all had we not been there.I had felt smug providing care in the public hospital, believing it was morally superior to working as a mercenary at the detention center. But I now realize that all of the health care providers had a role in allowing the tragedy to occur. What would have happened if all of the doctors refused to work with people held under those conditions? If that critical infrastructure of health care were not available on the island, the detention center could not be there. If the detention center weren’t there, the government would stop processing people there and perhaps desperate people would stop risking their lives to get to Christmas Island. Maybe the women and men who lost their children or the children who lost their parents would never have gotten on that boat. Maybe.Parts of that awful day stay with me. My job as a doctor prevented me from offering the compassionate care I wanted to provide and forced me to turn into a medical conveyor belt. When a young patient was laid in front of me, I assessed her, started... (shrink)

Most scholarly fields, at least in the humanities, have been asking the same questions about the politics of encounter for hundreds of years: Should we try to find a way to encounter an other without appropriating it, without imposing ourselves on it? Is encountering-without-appropriating even possible? These questions are profuse and taken up with intense interest in scholarship about the personal essay, specifically, which has often been credited as a philosophical form. Within debates about the ethics of the personal essay, (...) the most significant concern is about the traditionally accepted relationship of the writer-represented-on-the-page. For example, the notable rhetoric and composition scholar, David Bartholomae, argues that students of what he calls '"creative nonfiction" or "literary nonfiction"' (1995, p. 68) write '... as though they [are] not the products of their time, politics and culture, as though they could be free, elegant, smart, independent, the owners of all that they saw' (p. 70). In other words, the personal essay, as a subgenre of creative or literary nonfiction, allows for the perpetuation of the fallacy that a writer can be 'free' of social influences, 'independent' of a society and of its politics, and 'owners' of their own perspectives and experiences—of those the writer expresses on the page, specifically. Consequently, if the writer is not conscious and critical of the social influences acting on him/her, if s/he believes the text to be the singular and uninfluenced production of his/her own self, then the topic taken up in the essay is tyrannized by the self-centered (and dangerously un-critically-conscious) perspective of the writer. However, the personal essay also has its strengths as a philosophical form: in its privileging of skepticism; in its attention to complexity and complication; and even in its existence-as-evidence of some quality of its writer. Too, very often essays pay homage to works of other essayists, as in the case of Gass's 'Emerson and the Essay', instead of mowing down other works in order to establish its own reign. Despite these ethically responsible characteristics, though, I show, using Gass's essay about Emerson's work, that the personal essay continues to be devalued because of its reliance on and celebration of its transparent relationship to its author. In general, essayists don't complain in their work about the belief in this transparent relationship; they advocate it. Thus, my purpose is not to suggest that there is no relationship between the essayist and the essay. Rather, I will, in the latter half of the article, turn to the work of philosopher Emmanuel Levinas, which describes and enacts an approach to an other (writer/text) that does not hinge on the assumption that writer and text are in a transparent relationship to each other. I hope that in presenting this possibility for re-thinking the essay (and its relationship to its writer), writers, scholars, and teachers of the essay—and even its opposition—will give it new attention and explore further the possibilities that it may provide for engagement, for encounter. (shrink)

“Recognition” has become a keyword of our time. Yet this word [recognition] runs insistently through my readings, appearing sometimes like a gremlin who pops up at the wrong place, at other times as welcomed, even as looked for and anticipated. Which places are those? Recognition demands our attention. As a “keyword,” its significance is measured in part simply by the number of times it appears across the pages of the works that occupy our desks. Claimed by political theorists, moral philosophers, (...) cultural anthropologists, legal scholars, activists, historians, and rhetoricians, recognition has become a workhorse for theorizing the ontological, epistemological.. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:I am Not Obese. I am Just Fat.Sarah BrambletteMy body mass index classifies me as super morbidly obese, however my overall vital health statistics would indicate otherwise. I celebrated the American Medical Association’s classification of obesity as a disease for several reasons. First, obesity as a disease involves other medical complications of which I have none, so finally perhaps I can say I am not obese, I am (...) just fat. I am fat, as in my weight is caused by Lipedema and Lymphedema. Lipedema is a congenital condition, which causes my body to produce and accumulate abnormal amounts of adipose tissue in my legs, hips, thighs, and arms. There is not much known about Lipedema in the medical profession, even though it was identified in 1940 by doctors at the Mayo Clinic, and not many treatment options exist. Abnormal Lipedema tissue does not respond to restrictive caloric diet or exercise. Lymphedema is a condition of localized fluid retention and tissue swelling caused by a compromised lymphatic system. The second reason I celebrated obesity being classified as a disease was the hope that more research would be conducted on the actual causes and treatment of obesity and that research might include adipose tissue disorders. My vital health statistics are all normal, yet I still face challenges getting proper treatment in healthcare.My StoryAs I sat staring at the metal beast, I decided to make one final attempt to mount it. I placed my right foot on the step and used both hands to boost myself up, my lower legs were so large there was no room for my left foot. Immediately the exam table began to tip towards me, then slammed loudly against the tile floor as I quickly stepped off. It was a game of exam table teeter–totter I had played many times before and lost more often than won. I gave up, placed the sheet meant to cover my legs on the chair in the corner and squeezed myself down between its arms. The exam gown pinched my arms, barely covering the front of me and draped over my legs.My LegsOne of the main reasons I was seeing a new doctor, my first doctor visit in several years. My previous family doctor had retired. I was not ill, I was concerned. My weight had reached a point to where I was scared for my health and I wanted to get help and answers. I wanted answers about why my legs were so large and leaked fluid.The answer I got was one I had heard before “It’s your weight”.To the doctor’s credit, she did explain it a bit more, she said the fluid in my legs was due to my excess weight putting pressure on my legs. However, she did not actually know how much I weighed. The scale in her office only went to 350lbs, and even with the add–on weight it could not register a weight for me, so we only knew I weighed more than 400lbs. I asked her if she knew if the hospital or another office had a scale that could weigh me. She did not. She may have sent me home with a prescription for a diuretic, I do not remember. I know I was not sent home with any help for my weight or my legs, just a follow–up appointment. It was during that follow up appointment that I advocated for myself and asked if she would refer me for physical therapy, so that I could do some safe and monitored exercise. She agreed, and I began physical therapy in the pool.At the pool I met other people who looked similar to my size. I noticed their legs were normal size and wondered why? Then I thought about sumo wrestlers. Sumo wrestlers weigh hundreds of pounds and their legs are normal too. What was wrong with my legs? One day I heard a man in the pool tell another [End Page 85] patient that he had lost weight. I wondered where he was able to weigh himself, and hoped it was not rude to ask him. He told me... (shrink)

Dans The Elements of Drawing, le célèbre critique d’art anglais John Ruskin endosse le rôle de professeur pour livrer, en trois longues lettres adressées aux débutants, son enseignement sur l’art du dessin. De cet ouvrage hybride, mêlant exercices, observations sur les couleurs, commentaires de peintures et descriptions lyriques de la nature, la postérité retiendra principalement un court passage sur la formation de la perception. Dans une note de bas de page du premier chapitre, Ruskin nous dit en effet que (...) « toute la force de la technique picturale dépend de la possibilité pour nous de retrouver ce que nous pourrions appeler l’innocence de l’œil ». Cette note célèbre a fait l’objet de nombreux commentaires (chez E. Gombrich et N. Goodman notamment), qui viennent discuter, et souvent réfuter, la possibilité d’un regard vierge. À rebours des lectures de surplomb qui autonomisent ce passage et le transforment en « théorie », nous proposons de revenir au texte de Ruskin en pensant l’innocence de l’œil dans son articulation singulière et fondatrice aux exercices qui l’accompagnent. L’hypothèse que nous soumettons est la suivante : c’est l’exercice, dans sa conduite réitérée, qui permet de comprendre le sens de l’innocence perceptive. Bien loin d’un apprentissage scolaire, l’exercice du regard engage chez Ruskin une manière d’être au monde. (shrink)

Sarah Hutton - Girolamo Cardano. Le opere, le fonti, la vita, and: The Waning of the Renaissance, 1550-1650 - Journal of the History of Philosophy 40:2 Journal of the History of Philosophy 40.2 261-263 Book Review Girolamo Cardano. Le opere, le fonti, la vita The Waning of the Renaissance, 1550-1650 Marialuisa Baldi and Guido Canziani. Girolamo Cardano. Le opere, le fonti, la vita. Milan: Francoangeli, 1999. Pp. 589. L. 68,000. William J. Bouwsma. The Waning of the Renaissance, 1550-1650. New (...) Haven: Yale University Press, 2001. Pp. xi + 288. Cloth, $29.95. The two books under review represent very different approaches to Renaissance philosophy. The collection edited by Marialuisa Baldi and Guido Canziani brings together an international team of twenty-two scholars to scrutinize in close detail a single figure from among the constellation of inventive Italians whose intellectual energies fuelled the Renaissance. The Waning of the Renaissance is a single-viewpoint survey of a European-wide canvas that covers England and France as well as Italy. The subject of Girolamo Cardano is a forgotten philosopher normally only remembered, if at all, by oxymoronic recognition of his brilliance as a mathematician and fame as an astrologer. William J. Bouwsma's book is a broad overview of the mainstream Renaissance. The names that fill his pages are, in the main, the.. (shrink)

Going Native: The Value in Reconceptualizing International Internet Service Providers as Domestic Media Outlets Content Type Journal Article Category Special Issue Pages 391-409 DOI 10.1007/s13347-011-0045-4 Authors Sarah Oates, School of Social and Political Sciences, University of Glasgow, Adam Smith Building, G12 8RT Scotland, UK Journal Philosophy & Technology Online ISSN 2210-5441 Print ISSN 2210-5433 Journal Volume Volume 24 Journal Issue Volume 24, Number 4.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Human Liberty and Human Nature in the Works of Faustus Socinus and His ReadersSarah MortimerI.Few issues were more hotly contested by early modern theologians than the extent of human liberty and its implications for both religion and society. In the Protestant world, the sixteenth century saw increasingly strident statements of mankind's bondage to sin and the importance of God's eternal decree of predestination, but the concept of human moral (...) responsibility still had its defenders. One influential proponent of human liberty was Faustus Socinus (1539–1604), the Italian scholar known most commonly today for his denial of the trinity. Yet the central theme of his theology was his insistence that Christian virtues must be carried out voluntarily; it was from this principle that his more heterodox ideas flowed. He made a sharp distinction between natural and voluntary action, and argued that the practice of Christianity must be an act of human will, not one to which men were drawn by nature. Separating Christianity from the natural order, Socinus argued that eternal life awaited those who chose to follow the law of Christ rather than the natural law. His argument challenged the Protestant commitment to the unity of natural and divine law and it opened up conceptual space for voluntary action outside the natural law. In this article, I shall sketch the Socinian position on human liberty and Christianity, and suggest how and why the Italian's ideas were developed by Protestants in the early seventeenth century. His readers included the eminent Dutch scholar Hugo [End Page 191] Grotius (1583–1645), and the exchange between Grotius and the Socinians reveals the concern on both sides to explain the relationship between human liberty, Christianity, and natural law.Socinus' life, like his theology, began within the reform movement in Italy and ended among the marginalised anti-trinitarians in Poland. Born of a long line of Italian jurists, he shared both his family's legal interests and their critical approach to the Catholic Church. In his youth he had been a courtier in Florence but his increasingly critical attitude towards Catholicism—and the death of his patron Grand-Duke Cosimo I—resulted in his departure from Italy in 1574. After a period in Basel he found a home among the Polish Anabaptists at Rakow, a young and precarious community which he helped to sustain through his advice and through the tracts which he penned on their behalf.1 During these years, he was also able to develop his own interpretation of Christianity, and to explain it in numerous works issuing from the community's press. Although his ideas generated a lively debate from the start, both in Poland and Germany, it was only after his death that they began to be absorbed into the mainstream of European intellectual discussions. Socinus' theological ideas had their attractions for some Protestant readers, but they became entangled with more political questions and their implications for civil life began to cause serious alarm. For this reason my focus will be upon the responses of Dutch and German readers, particularly Hugo Grotius and Johan Crell (1590–1633), both of whom addressed the civil as well as the theological aspects of Socinus' legacy. First, however, I shall draw out the salient points from Socinus' rich and complex theology, paying particular attention to his understanding of human liberty. Unlike his orthodox Protestant contemporaries, Socinus believed that liberty was the precondition for virtue.Socinus shared with the broader Christian humanist tradition the belief that Christ demanded works as well as faith from his followers. Christians must follow the pattern of ethical living laid down by their master; like Erasmus before him, and like the Italian exiles he met in Basel, Socinus saw Christianity as a religion of action.2 For this reason, he was determined to protect the liberty and capacity of each individual to act virtuously, and therefore to defend what he understood as human free will. It was, he felt, [End Page 192] a pressing task, for these qualities were being undermined by his contemporaries and particularly by those on the Protestant side. Most Protestants followed Luther's belief, expressed most forcefully in De Servo Arbitrio (1525... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Journal of the History of Philosophy 41.1 (2003) 126-127 [Access article in PDF] James Arthur Diamond. Maimonides and the Hermeneutics of Concealment: Deciphering Scripture and Midrash in The Guide of the Perplexed. Albany: State University of New York Press, 2002. Pp. viii + 235. Paper, $20.95. In his text about the nature of Maimonidean text, Diamond shows us firsthand how the great medieval Jewish thinker's use of biblical and (...) rabbinic prooftexts brings life to each page of his Guide by having meaning rely ultimately on the reader's interpretive glance. Inviting us into his study with an epigraph by Rosenzweig on the integral role of quotation in Jewish medieval writing, Diamond concludes that a prooftext within Maimonides' great philosophical text, The Guide of the Perplexed, is "not merely a prop on which to hang certain philosophical propositions regarding God and his relationship to the creation but rather melds with the text to form an organic continuum of thought" (160). By showing how Maimonides has crafted a masterful "interplay of text and prooftext" (30), Diamond presents the Guide to us as "a bridge, drawing the student out of the philosophical text into the sacred texts and back again, dissolving the divide between the two in a perpetual hermeneutical crisscross" (31).Emphasizing the centrality of the role of the reader—and in particular, the reader engaged in an intertextual hermeneutic—in any appreciation of Maimonidean text, Diamond employs Ricoeurian language, speaking, for example, of how Maimonides' text, in its use of prooftexts whose efficacy lies in the reader's interpretive response, constitutes "a network of intersignification, thanks to which the isolated texts signify something else, something more" (40; quote from Ricoeur, "The Bible and the Imagination," 71). In particular, Diamond stresses how these hermeneutically charged prooftexts are used by Maimonides to penetrate through a range of—what are for Maimonides—metaphorical discourses about the Divine within the Jewish tradition. Ranging from straightforwardly anthropomorphic claims about God sitting or standing, to more subtly anthropocentric conceptions of the role of God in Providence, there are a host of biblical and rabbinic claims about God which Maimonides sees as metaphors—statements whose meanings are in no way worn on their sleeves, as it were. Mindful, though, of the potentially devastating effects of alerting all religious folk to the falsity of certain ways of thinking about God, Maimonides crafts his text—in particular, according to Diamond, in his use of intertextually pointing prooftexts—to beckon only the philosophically prepared readers to the real truths about God and Providence. These truths are neither spelled out in the prooftext nor in the further context from which said prooftext is pulled; rather, as Diamond explains, the truths emerge in the hermeneutical unfolding of text and prooftext, in the live process of the reader's intertextual investigation. In an encounter with Maimonides' Guide, intertextually pointing prooftexts thus enable a reader to fashion "a 'surplus of meaning' out of apparent semantic nonsense" (11; reference to Ricoeur's treatment of metaphor in his Interpretation Theory: Discourse and the Surplus of Meaning).What is fresh, creative and new about Diamond's book is not that it alerts us to the presence of secret writing strategies in Maimonides' Guide which reveal unspoken truths about God. This idea in and of itself is quite well-rehearsed within Maimonidean scholarship. What is fresh, creative and new about Diamond's study is that, in its focus on the hermeneutical efficacy of prooftexts as central to that secret writing strategy, it actually walks us through the hermeneutical process in question, step by step, with a number of cases in point. And so, Diamond not only tells us that Maimonides uses prooftexts as a strategy for pointing careful readers to uncover unspoken truths about the Divine, but Diamond actually devotes a full-length study to showing how this works in a number of [End Page 126] concrete cases. Diamond actually engages in exegesis of Maimonides' Guide in this study of Maimonidean exegesis; he actually shows us how he thinks a number of prooftexts ought to be traced through. Using a number of Maimonidean prooftexts as his starting points, Diamond takes us from Maimonides' text... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Peaceful Persuasion: The Geopolitics of Nonviolent RhetoricSarah E. DempseyPeaceful Persuasion: The Geopolitics of Nonviolent Rhetoric. Ellen W. Gorsevski. Albany: State University of New York Press, 2004.pp. 262. $55.00, hardcover.The overriding emphasis on violence, militarization, and retribution within current geopolitical contexts demands that we acquire greater understandings of nonviolent communicative practices. In Peaceful Persuasion, author Ellen Gorsevski, Professor of English and Communication at Oregon State University, argues that nonviolent (...) rhetoric tends to be ignored by scholars—that its methods, strategies, and impacts are often passed over and that nonviolence is often framed as hopelessly utopian, unrealistic, and ineffective. Gorsevski situates her study of nonviolent rhetoric less within its humanistic and religious inheritance, drawing instead on a contrast with existing models of rhetoric. As a strategy for rhetorical and political action, Gorsevski takes nonviolence to be instructive of new ways to reconfigure both rhetorical studies and social movement strategy.It is important to note that Gorsevski's need to study peaceful means of relating to others is driven as much by a love of rhetorical theory as by a passion for translating an understanding of nonviolent rhetoric into strategies for activists. As such, this book provides a solid introduction to rhetorical theory, including an appendix on the connection between rhetoric and nonviolence that details what activists have to gain from each. In addition, instructors will find useful a chapter on the specifics of incorporating nonviolence into speech communication classrooms.Peaceful Persuasion's greatest contribution to rhetorical studies is the careful drawing out of the many ways that a rhetorical take on nonviolence has become increasingly necessary. To make this solid case, Gorsevski draws on four very diverse case studies of nonviolent rhetoric. In a move that is both surprising and refreshing, Gorsevski's case studies do more than provide exemplars of how critics may read nonviolence as a powerful rhetorical strategy; each helps to further delineate the key characteristics of what has been, until now, a relatively undefined area of rhetorical action.Gorsevski's gift to her readers is the ability to demonstrate the rich subtleties of nonviolence through very different contexts. The case studies [End Page 89] draw from such different sources that at first seem disorienting. Upon reflection, it becomes clearer that they greatly complicate our notions of nonviolence, redressing the disservices of previous bleary analyses that configured nonviolence only by its lack of violence rather than according to its fruitful range of seemingly contradictory strategies. The cavernous distances each study crosses illuminate the multiplicity of forms, meanings, and strategies that nonviolence may take. As such, any definition of nonviolence that I may provide in this short review does a serious disservice to the depth that Gorsevski creates through her sometimes disjointed case studies.The case studies serve at least dual purposes, as each provides an analysis that extends our understandings of nonviolence in action as it also offers instructive mini-lessons for the further development of rhetorical studies. In the first case study, Gorsevski provides a contextualized analysis of critics' interpretations of the film The Spitfire Grill, which she shows to be reflective of the "predominantly accepting orientation that rhetoric and film critics hold for the idea that humans are characterized by "innate aggression" and violence" (68). For Gorsevski, this study demonstrates that nonviolence as a lens can be applied to a range of texts just as well as any other approach to rhetoric. Gorsevski moves her analysis of nonviolent rhetoric into the geopolitical realm for her study of President of Macedonia Kiro Gligorov's historic first speech before the United Nations. She takes his speech as evidence of the usefulness of pragmatic nonviolence, which entails "noncooperation or defiance of political adversaries in order to decry a perceived injustice" (72). Gligorov's speech illustrates that nonviolence and violence are best seen less as equivalent than, rather, as operating on a sliding scale. For Gorsevski, successful use of pragmatic nonviolence may even include a measure of violence as long as it serves to reduce the escalation of further strife.Next Gorsevski explores the visual rhetoric of the gendered body of Burmese activist and Nobel Peace Prize winner Aung San Suu Kyi to show... (shrink)

Jozef Keulartz and Gilbert Leistra (eds): Legitimacy in European Nature Conservation Policy: Case Studies in Multilevel Governance Content Type Journal Article Pages 1-3 DOI 10.1007/s10806-010-9248-4 Authors Sarah Beach, Kansas State University Department of Sociology, Anthropology, and Social Work Manhattan KS USA Journal Journal of Agricultural and Environmental Ethics Online ISSN 1573-322X Print ISSN 1187-7863.