There is a tradition of philosophy—a conception we can easily under-stand as a limit of a tendency of our own thinking—that philosophy consists only of argument. The rest of the vast prepon-derance of words in philosophical texts is simply embroidery. ‘Naturally’, it will be conceded, actual philosophy books contain more or less of verbal pictures, words and phrases whose purpose is to evoke images, and many stories—examples, hard cases for definitions, and 4 anecdotes. These, it will be said, ‘are (...) only the embellishments, the relief from work, the appetizers or the post-prandial delicacies.’. (shrink)

Digital video and photography are becoming aspects of everyday business activities, allowing for the quick modification and distribution of images. From development of websites to the editing of a single photograph on a desktop PC, people are using digital images in many business contexts. However, important business ethics issues are emerging concerning the malleability and veracity of digital images as well as their rapid dissemination on the Internet. Activities with digital video and photography in business ethics classrooms can underscore a (...) number of philosophical and moral concerns involving the nature of perception and documentation as well as surveillance. The era of video and photography as reliable “witnesses” to human interaction is gradually passing; they are becoming recognized as highly malleable media that give photographers wide leeway in modification, leading to issues involving the trustworthiness of photographic documentation in business contexts. Various exercises and scenarios that explore image modification issues are included in this article. Hands-on exercises can also be effective; students who create and subsequently edit digital portraits of themselves in the context of a business ethics class can gain valuable perspectives on role-taking and the ethical implications of deceptive communications. (shrink)

This book provides justification and instruction for exploring philosophy with children, especially by using picture books to initiate philosophical discussion. By demonstrating to pre-service teachers that picture books often embed philosophical issues into their narratives, and that this makes picture books a natural place to go to help young children investigate philosophical issues, the author offers a straightforward approach to engaging young students. In particular, this volume highlights how philosophical dialogue enhances children's sense of self, provides a (...) safe space for the discussion of issues that they are confronted with in living their lives, and develops an admirable method for resolving conflict that the children can use in other contexts. (shrink)

Previous research showed that story illustrations fail to enhance young preschoolers' memories when they accompany a pre-recorded story (e.g., Greenhoot and Semb, 2008 ). In this study we tested whether young children might benefit from illustrations in a more interactive story-reading context. For instance, illustrations might influence parent-child reading interactions, and thus children's story comprehension and recall. Twenty-six 3.5- to 4.5-year-olds and their primary caregivers were randomly assigned to an Illustrated or Non-Illustrated story-reading condition, and parents were instructed to “read (...) or tell the story” as they normally would read with their child. Children recalled the story after a distracter and again after 1 week. Analyses of the story-reading interactions showed that the illustrations prompted more interactive story reading and more parent and child behaviors known to predict improved literacy outcomes. Furthermore, in the first memory interview, children in the Illustrated condition recalled more story events than those in the Non-Illustrated condition. Story reading measures predicted recall, but did not completely account for picture effects. These results suggest that illustrations enhance young preschoolers' story recall in an interactive story reading context, perhaps because the joint attention established in this context supports children's processing of the illustrations. (shrink)

That the same story can be told in different media is one of the fundamental claims of narratology. Claude Bremond famously listed verbal narrative, novels, theater, movies and ballet among potential vehicles for story. He thus prepared the ground for narratology’s future as a discipline engaged in narrative research across media, in principle including single still pictures. However, narratological research concerned with pictorial narrativity generally proceeds from the assumption that although single pictures may evoke or imply stories, they are (...) unsuitable for storytelling in a strict narratological sense. Focusing on the key issue of temporality, this essay will show that a single still picture may indeed tell “a story proper” and can thus be regarded as a narrative, even according to a narrow definition. (shrink)

We’ve been led to believe that museums are temples of knowledge. The historical ideal of the European museum has been to improve us morally by educating us about the globe’s myriad different cultures, creative practices, and belief systems. We’re taught that museum spaces are neutral: that they represent the world from an ‘objective’ point of view. But we have been lied to.As art historian Alice Procter shows in this incisive book, Western museums fall devastatingly far from this ideal. They do (...) not merely represent the harms done by colonialist forces; they perpetuate them. Museums tell us stories about their objects on display—many stolen from their original homes—and push narratives which, often subtly, express harmful ideologies about cultures ‘discovered’ in the Age of Imperialism. As viewers, our perception is narrowed and moulded while the voices of the displayed marginalized identities are silenced.Procter takes us on one of her ‘Uncomfortable Art Tours’, guiding us through four types of museum, presenting a selection of objects ranging from a Gweagal Shield to art performances of human zoos, each with their own sobering story. Procter sensitively reveals the histories and meanings behind these pieces, which are often obscured or overlooked, to highlight the imperial and colonial reality of our art collections. Part 1 opens with the ‘Palace’; spaces which functioned as homages to a collector’s taste, often an aristocrat or royal, who displayed their private collections in an attempt to shape the taste of elite audiences. Part 2 takes us to the ‘Classroom’, a didactic space which sees the origin of categorization—taxonomy sinisterly extended to notions of race, pre-empting nineteenth-century eugenics. Part 3 presents the solemn ‘Memorial’ space, a site for remembrance and display of human remains. Part 4 closes with the ‘Playground’, a self-reflexive space of activism and social art, which challenges the museum institution itself. (shrink)

In the historic tradition of calendar stories and calendar illustrations, this work presents a collection of thirty-nine stories and thirty-nine snow-swept photographs for the darkest month of the year. It includes stories drawn from modern history and the contemporary moment, from mythology, and even from meteorology.

Narrative picturing is a creative interviewing technique that can be applied within qualitative research interviews with the aim of enhancing the ‘richness’ of narrative data. This paper describes briefly narrative picturing and its theoretical underpinnings. Whilst using this technique within a dedicated study of people with experience of self‐cutting, two key factors emerged in relation to advancing the use of narrative picturing. These were overcoming the inhibitions of the person interviewed and the exploration of personal meaning(s) disclosed during narrative picturing, (...) which were commonly found to be particularly abstract or unprocessed. This paper suggests interviewing techniques aimed at overcoming these potential limitations. Once overcome, narrative picturing appeared to support the exploration and narration of more ‘in‐depth’ accounts of lived experience, enhancing understandings of both the person interviewed and the researcher. (shrink)

Semantics traditionally focuses on linguistic meaning. In recent years, the Super Linguistics movement has tried to broaden the scope of inquiry in various directions, including an extension of semantics to talk about the meaning of pictures. There are close similarities between the interpretation of language and of pictures. Most fundamentally, pictures, like utterances, can be either true or false of a given state of affairs, and hence both express propositions (Zimmermann, 2016; Greenberg, 2013; Abusch, 2015). Moreover, sequences of pictures, like (...) sequences of utterances, can be used to tell stories. Wordless picture books, comics, and film are cases in point. In this paper I pick up the project of providing a dynamic semantic account of pictorial story-telling, started by Abusch (2012) and continued by Abusch & Rooth (2017); Maier & Bimpikou (2019); Fernando (2020). More specifically, I propose here a semantics of speech and thought bubbles by adding event reference to PicDRT. To get there I first review the projection-based semantics for pictures (section 1), noting the fundamental distinction between symbolic and iconic meaning that makes speech bubbles especially interesting (section 2). I then review the dynamic PicDRT framework for pictorial narratives (section 3), add events (section 4), and propose an account of speech bubbles as quotational event modification (section 5). I end with a brief look at other conventional, symbolic enrichments in comics (section 6). (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The Journal of Aesthetic Education 38.2 (2004) 120-124 [Access article in PDF] Pictures & Tears. a History of People Who Have Cried in Front of Paintings, by James Elkins. London: Routledge, 2001, xiii + 272pp., $26. In "Tears, Idle Tears" from The Princess, Alfred, Lord Tennyson wonders at the tears forming in his eyes as he gazes out across the fields one fall day. The idyllic countryside, far from (...) providing solace, triggers within him a debilitating sadness, an all-encompassing melancholia, manifested by the tears originating from a deep despair; the autumn fields remind Tennyson's narrative persona of all the days that have passed by him.If Tennyson's eyes had fallen not on autumn fields but on a painting of them then the opening lines to "Tears, Idle Tears" might have served as the perfect epigraphic frame to James Elkins's important study of the tears we do and do not shed when looking at art.One of several recent books by the increasingly influential professor at Chicago's School of the Art Institute, Pictures & Tears probes that aspect of our consciousness that has the capacity [End Page 120] to move us to tears when looking at paintings.Shedding tears in front of paintings? Within contemporary culture it seems rather unlikely for someone to respond to a painting by fighting off, or giving in, to tears. Reactions to paintings in previous periods and societies were wholly different from ours, Elkins argues. Paintings not only incited the passions but were blamed for the onset of numerous, serious medical conditions. Though rare today, cases continue to be reported. The Italian psychiatrist Graziella Magherini even coined a term for it in 1989, "Stendhal syndrome," referring to the novelist whose viewing of art in Florence was accompanied by the onset of a form of nervous exhaustion.While the subtitle of Elkins's book suggests a history of crying in front of pictures, leading us to the nearly tearless present, and thus, presumably, to answers about why we no longer cry in front of paintings, A History of People Who Have Cried in Front of Paintings is somewhat misleading. In the truest sense Pictures & Tears is neither a history of crying in front of pictures nor individual histories of those who have. The book does not follow a linear historical narrative of the tears that pictures have evoked over the centuries. Rather, Elkins's chapters constitute a tableau, the accumulation of fragments, with alternating chapters exploring, first, a particular work of art and the tears it has evoked and, second, ruminations on why that might be the case.At the heart of Elkins's argument is a concern over why we no longer seem willing, or indeed able, to have emotional responses to paintings. Besides the occasional grand response to works of art, particularly those vested withsignificant religious meaning, few admit to intimate connections with paintings. Elkins wants to know why.To answer these questions, Elkins turned to colleagues as well as to people he had never met. His research for the book included letters to fellow scholars and peers, and open calls in newspapers and journals, requesting stories from anyone moved to tears on encountering a painting. He received more than four hundred responses, many of which are included in a substantial appendix. The responses themselves make for an intriguing read and from them Elkins builds a two-pronged argument: we now live in an age that is marked by "stoic intellectualism" (p. 163), yet we still have the capacity to feel an intimate connection to paintings. Art in recent years has demanded greater intellectual engagement, lessintimate involvement. There may be exhibitions that fuel fear, distrust, anger, or rage but these are alienating to the works themselves, although these feelings can certainly be as intense as the more intimate connection that Elkins equates with falling in love.What is it about viewing paintings, as opposed to film or theater, he asks, which prevents full emotional expression? Is it the accoutrements used to view gallery paintings — the exhibition catalogs... (shrink)

The way we communicate with each other is vital to preserving the cultural ecology, or wellbeing, of a place and time. Do we listen to each other? Do we ask the right questions? Do we speak about each other with respect or disdain? The stories that we convey on screens, or what author Carl Plantinga calls 'screen stories,' are one powerful and pervasive means by which we communicate with each other. Screen Stories: Emotion and the Ethics of (...) Engagement argues that film and media studies needs to move toward an an approach to ethics that is more appropriate for mass consumer culture and the lives of its citizens. Primarily concerned with the relationship between media and viewers, this book considers ethical criticism and the emotional power of screen stories that makes such criticism necessary. The content we consume-- from television shows and movies to advertisements-- can significantly affect our welfare on a personal and societal level, and thus, this content is subject to praise and celebration, or questioning and even condemnation. The types of screen stories that circulate contribute to the cultural ecology of a time and place; through shared attention they influence what individuals think and feel. Plantinga develops a theory of the power of screen stories to affect both individuals and cultures, asserting that we can better respond ethically to such media if we understand the sources of its influence on us. (shrink)

The article on synaesthesia by Ramachandran and Hubbard is comprehensive and intellectually stimulating. In this commentary, I would like to present some empirical data not discussed in R&H and to raise some theoretical questions relating to ideas proposed in this article. My comments will be divided into three sections, or - rather - three stories, which correspond to three, independent and different, occasions in my career in which I found myself dealing with synaesthesia. Each of these stories carries (...) a moral that adds to the picture of synaesthesia drawn in R&H. (shrink)

Given that numerous critics have complained about Saw’s apparently confused sense of ethics, it is surprising that little attention has been paid to how morality operates in narrative itself. Coming from a Nietzschean perspective - specifically questioning whether the lead torturer Jigsaw is a passive or a radical nihilist - I seek to rectify that oversight. This philosophical reading of the series explores Jigsaw’s moral stance, which is complicated by his hypocrisy: I contend that this underpins critical complaints regarding the (...) films’ (and frequently the audience’s) "muddled" morality. My narrative analysis reveals that Jigsaw’s values are not as confused as they may first appear to be. Despite explicitly proclaiming that his quest is to save others, his actions reveal another story (and not only because his schema is homicidal). Following the loss of his unborn son and his failed suicide attempt, Jigsaw seeks to symbolically eradicate himself: the victims he selects reflect and reify his own obsessive personality traits. In keeping with the franchises’ narrative twists – which are designed to reverse initially "obvious" meanings – I argue that Jigsaw’s proclamations have misdirected critics. His nihilism may be manifested as coerced suffering and articulated as distaste with the world, yet the series’ symbolic target is Jigsaw himself. (shrink)

This chapter contains sections titled: Illustrated Books: A First Step The Image‐Text Complex in Comics The Image The Text How Comics Work An Objection Conclusion Notes References.

Reading fiction for pleasurable is robustly correlated with improved cognitive attainment and other benefits. It is also in decline among young people in developed nations, in part because of competition from moving image fiction. We review existing research on the differences between reading/hearing verbal fiction and watching moving image fiction, as well as looking more broadly at research on image/text interactions and visual versus verbal processing. We conclude that verbal narrative generates more diverse responses than moving image narrative., We note (...) that reading and viewing narrative are different tasks, with different cognitive loads. Viewing moving image narrative mostly involves visual processing with some working memory engagement, whereas reading narrative involves verbal processing, visual imagery and personal memory (Xu et al 2005). but Attempts to compare the two by creating suggest that existing research is flawed by attempts to create equivalent stimuli and task demands face a number of challenges, and we discuss these difficulties in comparative approaches. We then investigate the possibility of identifying lower level processing mechanisms that might distinguish cognition of the two media, and propose a focus on internal scene construction and on working memory as foci for future research. Although many of the sources we draw on are focussed on English speaking participants in European or North American settings, we also cover material relating to speakers of Dutch, German, Hebrew and Japanese in their respective countries, and studies of a remote Turkish mountain community. (shrink)

I challenge the common picture of the “Standard Story” of Action as a neutral account of action within which debates in normative ethics can take place. I unpack three commitments that are implicit in the Standard Story, and demonstrate that these commitments together entail a teleological conception of reasons, upon which all reasons to act are reasons to bring about states of affairs. Such a conception of reasons, in turn, supports a consequentialist framework for the evaluation of action, upon (...) which the normative status of actions is properly determined through appeal to rankings of states of affairs as better and worse. This covert support for consequentialism from the theory of action, I argue, has had a distorting effect on debates in normative ethics. I then present challenges to each of these three commitments, a challenge to the first commitment by T.M. Scanlon, a challenge to the second by recent interpreters of Anscombe, and a new challenge to the third commitment that requires only minimal and prima facie plausible modifications to the Standard Story. The success of any one of the challenges, I demonstrate, is sufficient to block support from the theory of action for the teleological conception of reasons and the consequentialist evaluative framework. I close by demonstrating the pivotal role that such arguments grounded in the theory of action play in the current debate between evaluator-relative consequentialists and their critics. (shrink)

Beyond the defiance of the young iconoclast—Wilde himself, of course—and the rather perfunctory curve of Dorian Gray to that gothic final sight , there is another, possibly less strident, but more central theme. That one is damned for selling one's soul to the devil is a commonplace in legends; what arrests our attention more, perhaps, is Wilde's claim or boast or worry or warning that one might indeed be poisoned by a book . . . and that the artist, even (...) the presumably "good" Basil Hallward, is the diabolical agent. Wilde's novel must be seen as a highly serious meditation upon the moral role of the artist—an interior challenge, in fact, to the insouciance of the famous pronouncements that would assure us that there is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book or that all art is "quite useless." Wilde's genius was disfigured by his talent: he always sounds much more flippant, far more superficial, than he really is. So one always say about Dorian Gray, with an air of surprise, that the novel is exceptionally good after all—and anyone who has read it recently replies, with the same air of faint incredulity, yes, it is exceptionally good—in fact, one of the strongest and most haunting of English novels. Yet its reputation remains questionable. Gerald Weales virtually dismisses it as "terribly fin de siècle " in a rather flippant introduction to the novel, and it would be difficult to find a critic who would choose to discuss it in terms other than the familiar ones of decadence, art for art's sake, art as "the telling of beautiful untrue things." Joyce Carol Oates has written, among others, Bellefleur, Childhood, a collection of short stories, Nightside, and Son of the Morning. Her contributions to Critical Inquiry, include "Jocoserious Joyce" and "Lawrence's Gotterdammerung". (shrink)

The Winter Garden Photograph was my Ariadne, not because it would help me discover a secret thing, but because it would tell me what constituted that thread which drew me toward Photography. I had understood that henceforth I must interrogate the evidence of Photography, not from the viewpoint of pleasure, but in relation to what we romantically call love and death. Ultimately — or at the limit — in order to see a photograph well, it is best to look away (...) or close your eyes. “The necessary condition for an image is sight,” Janouch told Kafka; and Kafka smiled and replied: “We photograph things in order to drive them out of our minds. My stories are a way of shutting my eyes.”... (shrink)

Given that numerous critics have complained about Saw’s apparently confused sense of ethics, it is surprising that little attention has been paid to how morality operates in narrative itself. Coming from a Nietzschean perspective - specifically questioning whether the lead torturer Jigsaw is a passive or a radical nihilist - I seek to rectify that oversight. This philosophical reading of the series explores Jigsaw’s moral stance, which is complicated by his hypocrisy: I contend that this underpins critical complaints regarding the (...) films’ (and frequently the audience’s) "muddled" morality. My narrative analysis reveals that Jigsaw’s values are not as confused as they may first appear to be. Despite explicitly proclaiming that his quest is to save others, his actions reveal another story (and not only because his schema is homicidal). Following the loss of his unborn son and his failed suicide attempt, Jigsaw seeks to symbolically eradicate himself: the victims he selects reflect and reify his own obsessive personality traits. In keeping with the franchises’ narrative twists – which are designed to reverse initially "obvious" meanings – I argue that Jigsaw’s proclamations have misdirected critics. His nihilism may be manifested as coerced suffering and articulated as distaste with the world, yet the series’ symbolic target is Jigsaw himself. (shrink)

What is it to be an agent? One influential line of thought, endorsed by G. E. M. Anscombe and David Velleman, among others, holds that agency depends on practical rationality—the ability to act for reasons, rather than being merely moved by causes. Over the past 25 years, Velleman has argued compellingly for a distinctive view of agency and the practical rationality with which he associates it. On Velleman’s conception, being an agent consists in having the capacity to be motivated by (...) a drive to act for reasons. Your bodily movements qualify as genuine actions insofar as they are motivated in part by your desire to behave in a way that makes sense to yourself. However, there are at least two distinct ways of spelling out what this drive towards self-intelligibility consists in, both present in Velleman’s work. It might consist in a drive towards intelligibility in causal-psychological terms: roughly, a drive to maximize the rational coherence of your psychological states. Alternatively, it might consist in a drive towards narrative intelligibility: a drive to make your ongoing activity conform to a recognizable narrative structure, where that structure is understood emotionally. Velleman originally saw these options as basically equivalent, but later came to prioritize the drive towards causal-psychological intelligibility over that towards narrative intelligibility. I argue that this gets things the wrong way round—we should instead understand our capacities to render ourselves intelligible in causal-psychological terms as built upon a bedrock of emotionally suffused narrative understanding. In doing so, we resolve several problems for Velleman’s view, and pave the way for an embodied, embedded and affective account of practical rationality and agency. According to the picture that emerges, practical rationality is essential to agency, narrative understanding is essential to practical rationality, and the rhythms and structures patterning the ebb and flow of our emotional lives are essential to narrative understanding. (shrink)

In sum, flashbacks and foreflashes are commonplace in narrative, and such rearrangements in the telling of a story seem to leave us not only with a story but with very much the same story.1 . . . Will no disparity between the order of telling and the order of occurrence destroy either the basic identity or the narrative status of any story? An exception seems ready at hand: suppose we simply run our film...backwards. The result, though indeed a story, seems (...) hardly to be the same story in any usual sense . . . Does cinematic narrative actually differ this sharply from narrative in a series of snapshots or in words? I think not. Our first impulse with any tale when the order of telling is clear is to take the order of occurrence to be the same as the order of telling; we then make any needed corrections in accord with temporal indications given in the narrative and with our antecedent knowledge both of what happened and of causal processes in general. But discrepancy between order of telling and order of occurrence cannot always be discovered instantaneously—or at all. If our series of snapshots is shown in reverse order at normal speed, we readily detect the reversal; for we know that a race begins at the starting gate, ends at the finish line, and so on. Even if the pictures do not show the starting gate or finish line or other identifiable parts of the track, we are not deceived, for we know that horses do not run backward. But when the film is run backward, such clues and considerations usually cannot be brought to bear soon enough, and we momentarily mistake the direction of the actions filmed. A little time is needed to make the correction. What seemed like a drastic difference between film and other forms of narrative amounts to nothing more than this lag. · 1. In an obvious and important sense. Of course, whether two version are properly said to be of the same story—or of the same world—depends upon which of many permissible interpretations of sameness is understood; but that need not trouble us here. Nelson Goodman is emeritus professor of philosophy at Harvard and the founder of both Project Zero and the Harvard Dance Center. His works include The Structure of Appearance; Fact, Fiction, and Forecast, and Ways of Worldmaking. His contributions to Critical Inquiry are "The Status of Style" , "Metaphor as Moonlighting" , and "The Telling and the Told". (shrink)

In this chapter, a positive account of reader engagement with fiction will developed. According to this picture, the basic reader attitude towards fictional works is imaginative. But, in my view, engagement with fiction does not require any de se imagining on the part of readers; it requires only de dicto and de re imagining. The account of reader engagement is modelled on the attitudes of story-listeners to the stories to which they listen and the performers who tell them. (...) In engaged reading, however, the activity of story-listening is, in an important sense, truncated: reader engagement with the text occurs without the mediation of a storyteller. As a result, readers have to imaginatively supply a substitute – a fictionalized version of the author. (shrink)

He tells us the inside stories behind dozens of famous pictures like these, which are reproduced in this book, and provides intimate and revealing portraits of the men and women who shot them, including Robert Capa, Henri Cartier-Bresson, ...

In sum, flashbacks and foreflashes are commonplace in narrative, and such rearrangements in the telling of a story seem to leave us not only with a story but with very much the same story.1... Will no disparity between the order of telling and the order of occurrence destroy either the basic identity or the narrative status of any story? An exception seems ready at hand: suppose we simply run our film...backwards. The result, though indeed a story, seems hardly to be (...) the same story in any usual sense... Does cinematic narrative actually differ this sharply from narrative in a series of snapshots or in words? I think not. Our first impulse with any tale when the order of telling is clear is to take the order of occurrence to be the same as the order of telling; we then make any needed corrections in accord with temporal indications given in the narrative and with our antecedent knowledge both of what happened and of causal processes in general. But discrepancy between order of telling and order of occurrence cannot always be discovered instantaneously—or at all. If our series of snapshots is shown in reverse order at normal speed, we readily detect the reversal; for we know that a race begins at the starting gate, ends at the finish line, and so on. Even if the pictures do not show the starting gate or finish line or other identifiable parts of the track, we are not deceived, for we know that horses do not run backward. But when the film is run backward, such clues and considerations usually cannot be brought to bear soon enough, and we momentarily mistake the direction of the actions filmed. A little time is needed to make the correction. What seemed like a drastic difference between film and other forms of narrative amounts to nothing more than this lag. · 1. In an obvious and important sense. Of course, whether two version are properly said to be of the same story—or of the same world—depends upon which of many permissible interpretations of sameness is understood; but that need not trouble us here. Nelson Goodman is emeritus professor of philosophy at Harvard and the founder of both Project Zero and the Harvard Dance Center. His works include The Structure of Appearance; Fact, Fiction, and Forecast, and Ways of Worldmaking. His contributions to Critical Inquiry are "The Status of Style", "Metaphor as Moonlighting", and "The Telling and the Told". (shrink)

Pictorial representations such as diagrams and figures are widely used in scientific literature for explanatory and descriptive purposes. The intuitive nature of pictorial representations coupled with texts foster a better understanding of the objects of study. Biological mechanisms and processes can be clearly illustrated and grasped in pictures. I argue that pictorial representations describe biological phenomena by telling stories. I elaborate on the role of narrative structures of pictures in the frontier research using a case study in immunology. I (...) articulate that pictures with an inherent narrative structure are crucial in biological sciences. (shrink)

This book has been inspired by Walter Benjamin’s idea of an afterlife of an original in its translations and probes into a wide variety of extensions of Carroll’s story in six languages. For one thing, it deals with language that speaks and more or less automatically steers its users in a particular direction and, for another, it discusses the creativity of individual translators who not only share a definite picture of the world with their language community but, in great (...) many instances, reveal a unique resourcefulness in resisting its power. Each chapter deals first with a separate theoretical issue (e.g. literalness, style, gender, and tense) and then proceeds to examine its practical actualization in various translations of Alice. (shrink)

This paper is a short report about a series of picture books and manuals designed for P4C (especially Philosophy for Korean Young Children). There were not proper educational reading materials or books to help Korean young children to think by (or for) themselves and dialogue with. Dr. Sharp’s is a very helpful guidebook for young children to think by themselves, dialogue with friends, and discuss with others (peers, older or younger children, teacher and parents, etc.). However, there remain some (...) needs for consideration of Korean culture. I developed new eight picture books for young children and short manuals for parents and teachers to do ‘thinking experiments’ with children. The stories were created in the contexts of Korean young children’s daily lives and typical episodes. The community of inquiry, which Korean young children participate in, needs to consider general and special aspects, such as the relationship between peers, children-parents, and children-teachers, Confucius or new western customs, new and old generations, moral and cultural atmosphere of Korean kindergartens or childcare centers, etc. Various episodes and scenes in the picture books will revoke and encourage Korean children’s deeper or higher thinking, interesting and creative dialogues, vivid and harmonious discussions based on their own experiences and contexts of life in the community of inquiry. (shrink)

This paper is a short report about a series of picture books and manuals designed for P4C (especially Philosophy for Korean Young Children). There were not proper educational reading materials or books to help Korean young children to think by (or for) themselves and dialogue with. Dr. Sharp’s is a very helpful guidebook for young children to think by themselves, dialogue with friends, and discuss with others (peers, older or younger children, teacher and parents, etc.). However, there remain some (...) needs for consideration of Korean culture. I developed new eight picture books for young children and short manuals for parents and teachers to do ‘thinking experiments’ with children. The stories were created in the contexts of Korean young children’s daily lives and typical episodes. The community of inquiry, which Korean young children participate in, needs to consider general and special aspects, such as the relationship between peers, children-parents, and children-teachers, Confucius or new western customs, new and old generations, moral and cultural atmosphere of Korean kindergartens or childcare centers, etc. Various episodes and scenes in the picture books will revoke and encourage Korean children’s deeper or higher thinking, interesting and creative dialogues, vivid and harmonious discussions based on their own experiences and contexts of life in the community of inquiry. (shrink)