Abstract

Writing this review on a plane headed to a conference on queering sexuality, with newly shorn pink hair, I note to myself that I’m hitting a lot of stereotypes. I’m a philosopher, a professor of women studies, a feminist researcher, a parent who identifies as bisexual, and it’s with all these hats on that I’m reading and reviewing Maggie Nelson’s book The Argonauts. I’m starting this way because it seems odd to review The Argonauts without any personal detail, though the inclusion of personal information isn’t something I get to do much as an academic philosopher. But The Argonauts is such a personal and philosophical book that it calls for that kind of response from those who read it. I won’t...