What were Shakespeare's final thoughts on history, tragedy, and comedy? Shakespeare's Last Plays focuses much needed scholarly attention on Shakespeare's "Late Romances." The work--a collection of newly commissioned essays by leading scholars of classical political philosophy and literature--offers careful textual analysis of Pericles, Prince of Tyre, Cymbeline, The Winter's Tale, The Tempest, All is True, and The Two Noble Kinsmen. The essays reveal how Shakespeare's thought in these final works compliments, challenges, fulfills, or transforms previously held conceptions of the playwright (...) and his political-philosophical views. (shrink)

This volume is a collection of essays by various contributors in honor of the late Laurence Berns, Richard Hammond Elliot Tutor Emeritus at St. John's College, Annapolis. The essays address the literary, political, theological, and philosophical themes of his life's work as a scholar, teacher, and constant companion of the "great books.".

This collection of essays, offered in honor of the distinguished career of prominent political philosophy professor Clifford Orwin, brings together internationally renowned scholars to provide a wide context and discuss various aspects of the virtue of “humanity” through the history of political philosophy.

This collection of essays, offered in honor of the distinguished career of prominent political philosophy professor Clifford Orwin, brings together internationally renowned scholars to provide a wide context and discuss various aspects of the virtue of “humanity” through the history of political philosophy.

This rich and varied collection of essays addresses some of the most fundamental human questions through the lenses of philosophy, literature, religion, politics, and theology. Peter Augustine Lawler and Dale McConkey have fashioned an interdisciplinary consideration of such perennial and enduring issues as the relationship between nature and history, nature and grace, reason and revelation, classical philosophy and Christianity, modernity and postmodernity, repentance and self-limitation, and philosophy and politics.

Chapter Six defends one of the most offensive shows in television history—South Park—against its many critics. It argues that the vulgarity, obscenity, and blasphemy of the show have deep roots in a tradition of philosophical comedy that stretches back to such figures as Aristophanes, Rabelais, and Mark Twain. Comedy is by nature transgressive, and South Park derives its bite and its energy from the way it violates contemporary norms of political correctness. The chapter focuses on episodes of South Park that (...) defend large corporations against the charge that they compete unfairly. Instead, the show suggests that small businesses enlist government on their side to ban outside competition and thereby to restrict consumer choice artificially. The chapter analyzes South Park as consciously libertarian in its viewpoint; the show rejects both liberals and conservatives insofar as they seek to restrict freedom. (shrink)

Critics of South Park—and they are legion—bitterly complain about its relentless obscenity and potty humor. But if one wanted to mount a high‐minded defense of the show's low‐minded jokes, one might go all the way back to Plato to find a link between philosophy and vulgarity. Cartman fights the countercultural forces who invade South Park and mindlessly blames all the troubles of America on “the corporations.” In “Gnomes” a national coffee chain called Harbucks—an obvious reference to Starbucks—comes to South Park (...) and tries to buy out the local Tweek Bros. coffee shop. Having had the audacity to defend Starbucks, in its eighth season South Park went on to rally to the cause of Wal‐Mart—under an even more thinly disguised name in an episode called “Something Wall Mart This Way Comes.” Once again, South Park proclaims the sovereignty of the consumer in a market economy. (shrink)

These essays showcase the value of the narrative arts in investigating complex conflicts of value in moral and political life, and explore the philosophical problem of moral dilemmas as expressed in ancient drama, classic and contemporary novels, television, film, and popular fiction. From Aeschylus to Deadwood, from Harriet Beecher Stowe to Harry Potter, the authors show how the narrative arts provide some of our most valuable instruments for complex and sensitive moral inquiry.

Chapter Seven discusses Edgar Ulmer's The Black Cat as the creation of a high modernist European émigré working in a lowbrow American genre, the horror movie. Ulmer portrays a self-destructive generation of Europeans permanently scarred by the horrors of World War I. Into their world, he introduces a young American couple on their honeymoon, who, in their naïveté, are almost destroyed by the mad Europeans, but escape their satanic clutches in the end. Hoping to succeed in his newly adopted homeland, (...) Ulmer seems to turn his back on his European heritage as a dead end, and yet he cannot help suggesting the cultural superiority of his sophisticated European characters. The Black Cat takes its place in a long line of European works critical of American culture, while at the same time raising serious doubts about Europe's future in the 1930s. (shrink)

For forty years, Harvey Mansfield has been worth reading. Whether plumbing the depths of MachiavelliOs Discourses or explaining what was at stake in Bill ClintonOs impeachment, MansfieldOs work in political philosophy and political science has set the standard. In Educating the Prince, twenty-one of his students, themselves distinguished scholars, try to live up to that standard. Their essays offer penetrating analyses of Machiavellianism, liberalism, and America., all of them informed by MansfieldOs own work. The volume also includes a bibliography of (...) MansfieldOs writings. (shrink)

The book roots corruption in the idea of a departure from conventional standards, and thus offers an account not only of its corrosiveness but also of its malleability and controversiality. In the course of a broadranging exploration, it examines various links between private and public corruption, connecting the latter with other social and political structures.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The Uncanonical Dante: The Divine Comedy And Islamic PhilosophyPaul A. CantorThe distorted notions of invisible things which Dante and hisrival Milton have idealized, are merely the mask and the mantlein which these great poets walk through eternity enveloped anddisguised. It is a difficult question to determine how far theywere conscious of the distinction which must have subsisted intheir minds between their own creeds and that of the people.Dante at (...) least appears to wish to mark the full extent of it byplacing Riphaeus, whom Virgil calls justissimus unus, inParadise, and observing a most heretical caprice in hisdistribution of rewards and punishments.—Percy Shelley, A Defence of PoetryIThe case of Dante provides an excellent opportunity to open up the question of the Western canon. In one sense, Dante is the perfect example of a canonical author. His name is one of the few certain to appear on anybody’s short list of the truly central authors in the Western literary tradition. But in another sense Dante can be regarded as uncanonical. In his own day he was widely suspected of being heretical in his religious views, 1 and a careful reading of his works does indeed raise serious doubts about his being the pillar of orthodoxy he is often taken to be today. 2 Out of this interplay between the canonical and the noncanonical Dante, I hope to show that the issue of the Western canon is more complicated than either its defenders or its attackers generally present it.In discussing the issue of the canon, it is important to sort out at the [End Page 138] beginning what we do and do not mean by the term. A canonical work may merely be a work that has been accepted into the literary canon, one that has become a touchstone in the reading and teaching of literature. But the term canonical can suggest something else, that the work is orthodox and somehow represents a central authoritative position in Western culture. The word canonical is so loaded with religious connotations that it is difficult to separate the relatively neutral first meaning of the term from the loaded second meaning. Dante is a case in point. When people refer to him as a canonical author, they usually do not simply mean that he is widely read and taught. Most discussions of Dante today treat him as representing an authoritative cultural moment in the Western tradition, as the supreme embodiment of the medieval mind. Viewed that way, Dante becomes an emblem of everything contemporary critics of the Western canon bitterly hate and reject. The reason they feel that they must attack authors like Dante and displace them from the center of literary study is that these authors have come to stand for orthodoxy and thus seem to enforce the hegemony of Western culture.Critics who wish to champion various forms of non-Western culture have a particular axe to grind with canonical authors like Dante. The contemporary debate over the Western canon seems to be premised on a sharp opposition between Western and non-Western cultures, as if they were complete and irreconcilable antitheses, and even wholly unrelated. One of the principal charges against the Western canon is that it is Eurocentric, that it remains confined within a narrow orbit of European ideas and beliefs, thus excluding all other views of the world. A corrolary of the idea of Eurocentrism is the concept of Orientalism, developed by Edward Said. 3 Said argues that throughout its history, the Occident has defined itself in opposition to the Orient, basing its elevated self-image on a debased vision of the cultural Other. In Said’s argument, the Occident views itself as rational as opposed to an irrational Orient, as emotionally disciplined in contrast to an emotionally uncontrolled Orient, and as masculine over against a feminine Orient.In medieval Europe the Orient was chiefly represented by the Muslim world, and one does not have to look far in medieval literature to find the kinds of orientalist stereotypes about which Said writes. The French Song of Roland contains excellent examples, but even the Divine Comedy seems to... (shrink)

David Lowenthal offers a serious treatment of the idea that Shakespeare was a serious thinker, indeed a philosopher who chose to develop his ideas in dramatic form. Readers accustomed to contemporary Shakespeare criticism may be puzzled by Lowenthal’s book. He makes no effort to historicize his discussion of Shakespeare and never invokes the unholy trinity of race, class, and gender in analyzing the plays. Compared to new historicist, feminist, Marxist, and deconstructionist critics of Shakespeare, Lowenthal may seem to be a (...) naive reader; he is looking for what he can read out of the plays, not what he can read into them. Grounding himself in the older tradition of Shakespeare criticism, from Ben Jonson to Samuel Johnson, from Samuel Taylor Coleridge to A. C. Bradley, Lowenthal views the playwright as a source of genuine wisdom. He assumes that Shakespeare knew what he was doing and was fully in control of his dramatic material, shaping his plays into artistic wholes that allow him to raise fundamental questions about the human condition. (shrink)