I'm giving a talk at this year's American Literature Association Conference in Boston, for a panel celebrating "100 Years of the Harlem Renaissance." I'll be talking about the Saturday Evening Quill, a magazine published in -- appropriately! -- Boston, from 1928-1930.
Teaching Notes: "The God of Small Things" General Overview and Context
Briefly Introducing Arundhati Roy and The God of Small Things
Arundhati Roy is one of the most successful in the ‘new wave’ of Indian writers in English. Her first novel, The God of Small Things, was a bestseller around the English-speaking world upon its release in 1997, and won Roy the prestigious Booker Prize in 1998. Roy took a long break from writing fiction after The God of Small Things, and became known as an activist and political essayist, who frequently wrote to criticize undemocratic policies of the Indian government as well as the American prosecution of the “War on Terror” after 9/11. She’s also well-known for her interventions on behalf of environmental justice (especially for Indian indigenous communities, known as “tribals” or “adivasis”) as well as her advocacy for Dalits and other low-caste communities. Many of these themes are visible in one way or another in The God of Small Things; the issue of caste is obvious, but the environmental justice might be more of a subtext.
Roy finally published her second novel, The Ministry of Utmost Happiness, in 2017. It’s a fascinating book in many ways, with a transgender protagonist (pretty unusual in Indian fiction) and a plot involving the Indian government’s response to the Kashmiri secessionist movement. It’s closely attentive to important events in recent Indian politics. If you like this book, you might enjoy that newer novel as well, though on the whole the newer book is a little messier and less well-structured than this one (some reviewers complained that Roy needed a stronger editor…).
With her playful use of language, Roy is often compared to writers from an earlier period in Indian writing, especially Salman Rushdie. Writers like Rushdie delight in wordplay and puns, especially puns or jokes that come from Indian languages; Rushdie also employed a “magic realist” method – certain supernatural plot events are built into his novels, alongside conventional, realist narratives involving realistic human characters. Roy doesn’t have ‘magic’ in that way, but there is a sense in her writing that everyday life is supersaturated with meaning and significance.
Syllabus: Digital Humanities Grad Course, Spring 2025
I taught a DH class with twelve graduate students this spring. It was my first time teaching DH since fall 2020, and a lot has changed in the field since then. My own approach has become much more hands-on, with a lot less by way of "what is DH?" theorizing. I also added new units on mapping and Storymaps/ArcGIS, a crash course introducing Python, and a couple of sessions to discuss the implications of generative AI.
It may be a bit tedious to navigate, but I opted to include the 'long-form' syllabus below the jump, with lots of links to individual projects and articles alongside descriptions of some of the hands-on exercises we did in this course.
Syllabus
English 498: Introduction to Digital Humanities
Spring 2025
Professor: Amardeep Singh (“Deep”)
Email: amsp@lehigh.edu
Brief Description:
This course introduces students to the emerging field of digital humanities scholarship with an emphasis on social justice-oriented projects and practices. The course will begin with a pair of foundational units that aim to define digital humanities as a field, and also to frame what’s at stake. How might the advent of digital humanities methods impact how we read and interpret literary texts? How is technology reshaping the role of the Humanities in our cultural conversations more broadly? We’ll also explore a series of thematic clusters, including “Race and the Digital Humanities,” “Postcolonial/Decolonial DH,” “Archives, Editions, and Collections,” and “Texts as Data.” Along the way, we’ll explore specific Digital Humanities projects that exemplify those areas, and play and learn with digital tools and do some basic coding using Python. The final weeks of the course will be devoted to collaborative, student-driven projects. No prior programming or web development experience is necessary, but a willingness to experiment and ‘break things’ is essential to the learning process envisioned in this course.
The final project may be a conventional analytical paper or a digital project – either a custom-built corpus (with brief explanatory essay), a custom-built mapping project (perhaps using ArcGIS), or a Scalar collection, or something else that you would like to produce. If you do a digital project, I would strongly recommend consulting with me early and scoping out the resources you might need to make it a reality. The work should be “equivalent” to the amount of time you might spend on a 15 page paper.
Humanities AI in 2025: Brief Reflections After a Conference
I’ll try and keep these reflections brief. There were maybe three threads I was following at the recent Humanities AI conference at Lehigh:
1) Critical AI
1) Critical AI
 |
| Slide from Greg Reihman |
2) Academic Power Users. ("Generative AI is pretty useful for scholarship; here’s what I’m doing with it.")
3) Critically-engaged Best Practices. ("Yes, let's be critical of commercial generative AI, but insofar as scholars are going to use it in academic work, here are some best practices.")
3) Critically-engaged Best Practices. ("Yes, let's be critical of commercial generative AI, but insofar as scholars are going to use it in academic work, here are some best practices.")
Often it seems like group #1 and group #2 are engaged in non-intersecting conversations. People invested in critical AI have been hardening their position against the "plagiarism machine" in recent months, especially as we've seen it operating in the destructive DOGE cuts to the federal government. It is important to engage with those critiques -- though it might also be good to pay attention to the ways generative AI has been changing, and also alternative approaches to engaging with it.
I'm not sure it actually happened at the conference, but if we bring the observations of critics together with the experience and knowledge base of regular practitioners, we might get to #3.
1) “Critical AI” is a phrase (and now a journal) associated with different lines of thought highlighting the many problems with the overhyped generative AI industry, with a long list of valid complaints, focusing on a broad array of topics:
My favorite moment along the lines of Critical AI conversation at the conference came from my colleague, Greg Reihman, who said, “What if, instead of calling the technology we are talking about ‘Generative AI,’ we had called it “Computational Text Generation Devices?”
My initial thought to that rhetorical question was, “if we called it that, probably none of us would be here in this room...” Which is to say, if it weren’t generally referred to as “AI” -- with all the science fiction baggage and mythos associated with that term -- probably the topic would be of interest to a narrow slice of computational linguists and natural language processing people in Computer Science. We wouldn’t have a room full of academics in fields like Religion, Philosophy, History, Asian Studies, Art & Design, and English all talking about it. Our collective investment in this topic is a result of marketing, of hype, of mainstream awareness.
But another good reason to do this is actually about our own costs – open access models running offline are, as I understand it, free so we could feel empowered to try queries that might otherwise use too many ‘tokens’.
One feature of many papers I saw is an acute awareness that the platforms are constantly evolving and changing. The weird outputs of generative AI images from DALL-E a couple of years ago are mostly gone, as my colleague Jenny Kowalski talked about in her presentation. In their place are pretty generic, very average and acceptable images.
1) “Critical AI” is a phrase (and now a journal) associated with different lines of thought highlighting the many problems with the overhyped generative AI industry, with a long list of valid complaints, focusing on a broad array of topics:
- Its domination by big tech companies jockeying for position and market position
- Its status as business marketing ploy (“AI-powered coffee machine!” → No one needs this.)
- The implicit biases contained within AI training data, and the crude fixes we’ve seen for those biases (see Meredith Broussard, Joy Buolamwini, Lauren Goodlad, etc.)
- Its potential to be used for broad social surveillance and algorithmically-assisted policy harms, often sloppily deployed (i.e., DOGE cuts)
- The problem of not knowing what exactly is in that training data (including copyrighted texts). (Bigger issue: lack of transparency of closed platforms.)
- The concern that our experience of it as a “magic black box” continues to lead people to react to it as both a miraculous thing (harbinger of “AGI”) and as catastrophic (AGI doomerism).
- The magic black box is also of course a huge problem for teachers dealing with students who abuse the technology: it’s too easy to get answers and ‘good enough’ paper drafts. Generative AI as a way to avoid cognitive labor & the real and valuable struggle of trying to write.
- Environmental costs – exorbitant water and power demands, often invisible to the average user
- Its tendency to hallucinate – to create bad and made-up data, invent sources that don’t exist, and engage in faulty reasoning. (Gen AI as a linguistic statistical modeling machine…)
- The danger of it intensifying the epidemic of social isolation, loneliness, and epistemic insularity that has already been underway since the advent of the smartphone. People are increasingly turning to generative AI for companionship and therapy. Some of those uses could be benign (maybe a few trial runs with an AI therapist could lead humans to realize they might benefit from seeking out a real, human therapist). But the companionship use-cases have a lot of depressing possible outcomes, including a growing risk of personal dependency on the machine. One hears anecdotally about young people turning to AI in lieu of human romantic partners, or marriages breaking up, etc.
My initial thought to that rhetorical question was, “if we called it that, probably none of us would be here in this room...” Which is to say, if it weren’t generally referred to as “AI” -- with all the science fiction baggage and mythos associated with that term -- probably the topic would be of interest to a narrow slice of computational linguists and natural language processing people in Computer Science. We wouldn’t have a room full of academics in fields like Religion, Philosophy, History, Asian Studies, Art & Design, and English all talking about it. Our collective investment in this topic is a result of marketing, of hype, of mainstream awareness.
Alongside several papers expressing some version of the above points, there were papers from people who use generative AI on a regular basis to do their academic research.
This conference had a substantial representation of Asian Studies scholars; some of those scholars were using it for translation and historical research: recent gen AI models have apparently made significant advances on translating from Chinese. Others were using it to query and engage in highly specialized topical research. I won't say too much about specific research, though you can get a sense of how that was talked about from the titles and backgrounds of the presenters on the program.
My friends and collaborators Anna Preus and Melanie Walsh have been using it to classify poetry, with some interesting results. See their published article on this here.
There was also a paper on “Vibe Coding” that walked through how people, both in the industry and academia, are using gen AI to bypass traditional software development and coding. This can work on a limited scale, but it comes with a lot of problems, especially if you’re building software that might need to be updated, maintained, or used by lots of people.
3) Best Practices & A Couple of Useful Tools
Could we synthesize the critiques from group #1 with the observations made by people in group #2? If we are going to use generative AI for scholarly research, there might be a set of best practices we might want to employ.
A) Open Access. There seems to be a consensus that we should turn to open-access models instead of commercial generative AI like ChatGPT. For academic research, look for models with specialized / tailored training data (like the "Historical Perspectives Language Model", which could be used to study how language and usage have changed over time).
One big reason for this is that we don’t want to be subject to the whims and vagaries of whatever Sam Altman is Tweeting about today. We also don't want to be 'locked in' as consumers willing to pay whatever price OpenAI wants to charge ($200 a month???). This might address the big business / tech billionaire complaint to some extent. (Not entirely: Llama is an open-access model, but it is of course created by Meta with the long-term goal of helping the company make money.)
Another possible value of open models is that we can know much more about what's in those models and how they work. This might address the lack of transparency complaint.
This conference had a substantial representation of Asian Studies scholars; some of those scholars were using it for translation and historical research: recent gen AI models have apparently made significant advances on translating from Chinese. Others were using it to query and engage in highly specialized topical research. I won't say too much about specific research, though you can get a sense of how that was talked about from the titles and backgrounds of the presenters on the program.
My friends and collaborators Anna Preus and Melanie Walsh have been using it to classify poetry, with some interesting results. See their published article on this here.
There was also a paper on “Vibe Coding” that walked through how people, both in the industry and academia, are using gen AI to bypass traditional software development and coding. This can work on a limited scale, but it comes with a lot of problems, especially if you’re building software that might need to be updated, maintained, or used by lots of people.
3) Best Practices & A Couple of Useful Tools
Could we synthesize the critiques from group #1 with the observations made by people in group #2? If we are going to use generative AI for scholarly research, there might be a set of best practices we might want to employ.
A) Open Access. There seems to be a consensus that we should turn to open-access models instead of commercial generative AI like ChatGPT. For academic research, look for models with specialized / tailored training data (like the "Historical Perspectives Language Model", which could be used to study how language and usage have changed over time).
One big reason for this is that we don’t want to be subject to the whims and vagaries of whatever Sam Altman is Tweeting about today. We also don't want to be 'locked in' as consumers willing to pay whatever price OpenAI wants to charge ($200 a month???). This might address the big business / tech billionaire complaint to some extent. (Not entirely: Llama is an open-access model, but it is of course created by Meta with the long-term goal of helping the company make money.)
Another possible value of open models is that we can know much more about what's in those models and how they work. This might address the lack of transparency complaint.
But another good reason to do this is actually about our own costs – open access models running offline are, as I understand it, free so we could feel empowered to try queries that might otherwise use too many ‘tokens’.
B) Generative AI is constantly changing. It would probably be best if we stopped making very generalized claims along the lines of “AI simply can’t do that.”
One feature of many papers I saw is an acute awareness that the platforms are constantly evolving and changing. The weird outputs of generative AI images from DALL-E a couple of years ago are mostly gone, as my colleague Jenny Kowalski talked about in her presentation. In their place are pretty generic, very average and acceptable images.
Some platforms still have trouble doing text with images, but others now do that very well (the latest ChatGPT).
Also, generative AI platforms also couldn’t do math very well a couple of years ago. Now they are much better at it (still not perfect).
Overall, the commercial platforms are very aware that their long-term usefulness to a large swath of users – along with their commercial viability – will be greater if they can do a variety of tasks reasonably well, some of which might involve text generation, while others will involve reasoning and data analysis. So, especially since DeepSeek emerged a few months ago, they appear to have been making investments in building up those things rather than simply getting larger and larger datasets.
One task for scholars in the short term might be to try and keep track of what generative AI platforms are doing and how they’re changing. (Ideally, it would be great if the platforms themselves would document all the changes they’re making with each version in plain English. But if they’re not doing that, maybe we should be doing it.)
C) There are tools that can help us look inside training data used by models.
One is called “What’s in My Big Data?” This looks inside the pre-training data of DOLMA, an open-access AI model created by AllenAI. You can query specific pieces: is this particular novel in the training data? Instead of speculating or relying on the libgen catalog, WIMBD allows you to get under the hood of the generative AI models (and we can assume that what’s in DOLMA is probably at least somewhat similar to what might be in other models)
Unfortunately, WIMBD in its current form will be shutting down soon due to the costs of running it.
Another cool tool people were talking about is OLLAMA. OLLAMA allows you to run various gen AI models on the command line on your own machine. You can also configure them to develop answers to queries based specifically on libraries you might have on your own hard drive.
This way, your use of GenAI remains “offline” – the companies aren’t taking your data, and you can explore queries that might be closely related to your main research area.
Needless to say, if you're running one of these models locally, you don't have to pay for a subscription -- it's free.
If we approach generative AI in these ways, we might be able to avoid some of the worst pitfalls of the commercial generative AI industry. We might also hopefully stop seeing it as a magic black box and start seeing it as a research tool to facilitate certain limited tasks, not to replace human expertise, but to supplement it.
Slides for Humanities AI Conference: AI and the Future of Creative Writing
I gave a talk at the Humanities AI conference at Lehigh on Saturday April 25.
The talk was based on experiences and observations from my Spring 2024 class taught to advanced undergraduates. There is a description of that class here.
Slides on Claude McKay: Digital Collections and Diasporic Itineraries (Presentation at Lehigh)
Giving a presentation at Lehigh on March 27, surveying some recent digital projects and introducing the idea of Claude McKay as a diasporic writer. Here are my slides:
MLA 2025: What I Saw
As everyone reading this has surely heard, the big drama at the MLA this year was the Executive Council's decision not to allow the Delegate Assembly to vote on a BDS resolution (see this long explanation from the MLA regarding why they made this decision). That led at least some people I know to decide not to attend; others attended and participated in various actions, including a hallway 'pop-up' poetry reading on Friday, and protests before and during the delegate assembly meeting on Saturday.
It might also be worth mentioning that there were no less than 28 panels related to Palestinian literature and culture at MLA this year, from Postcolonial / Decolonial literature panels, to Palestine and the Medical Humanities, to representations of Palestine in Medieval Literature.
My own MLA this year was mostly focused on Digital Humanities panels and African American literature panels -- that's mostly where my head has been for the past couple of years -- though I did attend a few other things, including an interesting Queer studies/theory panel with Judith Butler, a panel on "Palestine and Postcolonial Literature," and a panel revisiting the category of the "New Woman," with interesting papers on Pandita Ramabai and Alice Dunbar-Nelson.
I also presented myself on a panel on Friday afternoon connected to the “Responsible Datasets in Context” grant project I was on; if you’re interested in learning more about that, please visit our project website.
*
In African American literature, this is a special centenary – it’s the 100th anniversary of Alain Locke’s groundbreaking anthology The New Negro: An Interpretation, which has often been cited as the starting point for the Harlem Renaissance. There were at least three panels that I saw relating to that event; I went to at least some of all three.
Below is a more detailed overview of the specific panels I attended, divided into two sections, 1) African American Literature Panels and the Plenary, and 2) Digital Humanities Panels. *
*
 |
| Dana A. Williams, Jericho Brown, and Jesmyn Ward |
My own MLA this year was mostly focused on Digital Humanities panels and African American literature panels -- that's mostly where my head has been for the past couple of years -- though I did attend a few other things, including an interesting Queer studies/theory panel with Judith Butler, a panel on "Palestine and Postcolonial Literature," and a panel revisiting the category of the "New Woman," with interesting papers on Pandita Ramabai and Alice Dunbar-Nelson.
I also presented myself on a panel on Friday afternoon connected to the “Responsible Datasets in Context” grant project I was on; if you’re interested in learning more about that, please visit our project website.
*
In African American literature, this is a special centenary – it’s the 100th anniversary of Alain Locke’s groundbreaking anthology The New Negro: An Interpretation, which has often been cited as the starting point for the Harlem Renaissance. There were at least three panels that I saw relating to that event; I went to at least some of all three.
The non-AI DH panels I went to were a little quieter than I would have expected -- for years it seemed like DH was the "next big thing," and panels would be standing-room only. Last year, it seemed like the Next Big Thing was going to be "Critical AI" (standing-room only; lots of buzz). This year, the tenor of the AI panels was much more critical and skeptical. There certainly were a lot of them though -- the Online Program lists no less than 155 panels tagged as "AI."
I missed the actual panel, but I heard from friends that the most interesting and useful conversations about AI they heard were at the panel with Katherine Elkins, Meredith Martin, Seth Perlow, and Aarthi Vadde that showcased the October 2024 special issue of PMLA on AI. So one place to start if you want to catch up on the AI talk at MLA might be that special issue.
*
As I mentioned, I also went to a thoughtful queer studies panel, responding to the 20th anniversary of Judith Butler’s Giving an Account of Oneself. As with the Critical AI panel I mentioned above, this one consisted of speakers who published essays in a special issue of Differences devoted to the topic. That special issue can be found here. Essentially, the panelists were all inspired by Butler’s work, and some of them found ways to apply her relatively abstract arguments about identity and relationality to specific questions of queer and trans identity. There was also a nice paper by Leigh Gilmore that was more focused on intellectual history – the friendship and correspondence between Hannah Arendt and Mary McCarthy.Below is a more detailed overview of the specific panels I attended, divided into two sections, 1) African American Literature Panels and the Plenary, and 2) Digital Humanities Panels. *
Slides for MLA 2025: Responsible Datasets in Context--African American Periodical Poetry
I'm on session 385 at the MLA this year, with my collaborators on the "Responsible Datasets in Context" grant I received last year. Here are my slides.
385 Educating at the Intersection of Data Science and Humanities through Ethical and Responsible ContextsModernist Studies Association 2024: A few notes
I was recently at the Modernist Studies Association Conference in Chicago. I've been going to the conference on and off for many years (going back to the early 2000s?). Lately, I've been going there to present on materials relevant to my digital projects. If interested, slides from my presentation are here.
I'm not going to try and give a comprehensive account of what I saw and did at MSA, but below are a few highlights. Overall, the vibe was good -- despite the wild week in US politics, everyone seemed eager to talk about their research. Indeed, in a few cases (especially with some of the material related to queer and trans writers), it seemed like there was a more intense relevance in light of the growing anti-trans tendency in public discourse.
Saturday Keynote: Nella Larsen's Passing
It was fun to have the Saturday keynote be a screening of the 2021 Netflix adaptation of Passing, followed by a panel discussing it. The film was great (I hadn't seen it!), and the panel discussion following, with Rafael Walker, Pardis Dabashi, and Cyraina Johnson-Roullier, was lively and enlightening. My main takeaway from the panelists was that the film is a pretty faithful adaptation of the novel, but it's more optimistic about love and less pessimistic about the affect of racism on personal relationships than Larsen's book.
Queer and Trans Writing
Panel attended: Transing modernism/queering modernism
Jaime Harker, University of Mississippi
Chris Coffman, University of Alaska, Fairbanks
Aaron Stone, University of Virginia
Mat Fournier, Ithaca College Marquis Bey, Northwestern University
Marquis Bey, Northwestern University
This was a standout panel. Papers on Bryher, Virginia Woolf's Orlando, Djuna Barnes' Nightwood, and more
The idea of thinking about Bryher as a trans figure seems especially worthwhile. Also, the paper on Orlando mentioned some recent adaptations of the novel, including a film called Orlando: My Political Biography as well as a 2019 opera adaptation by Olga Neuwirth.
There were also a couple of papers that were theoretical / auto-theory interventions on the concept of dysphoria, and the concept of gender itself (memorable phrase: "from gender dysphoria to gender euphoria").
*
At another panel I attended, I saw another paper dealing with trans issues -- Michael Mayne of Denison University. He had rewritten parts of his paper at the last minute to reflect the results of the election. (In recent years, 664 anti-trans bills have been proposed by state legislatures. In the recent election, 41% of the ads for Trump were anti-Trans ads.
The Well of Loneliness is increasingly being read as a trans novel (including by scholars like Jack Halberstam and Leslie Feinberg). Mayne's emphasis was on the idea of transness as abjection in Hall's novel. He also mentioned Julia Serano's idea of "Effemimania" (a term I hadn't heard before), and Susan Stryker's idea of the prospect of trans writers reclaiming the "monster."
*
At another panel, Pamela Caughie gave a presentation on "Bloombsury's Gender Politics," where she alluded to the painter Dora Carrington, who was not quite trans, though she did engage in some transgressive gender play, and who was certainly queer and polyamorous (key line: "How I hate being a girl! Tied with female encumbrances and hanging flesh").
Caughie also mentioned many other writers who were new to me, including Rosamund Lehmann (Dusty Answer, 1927), and Denton Welch (Maiden Voyage, 1943).
Early Postcolonials
For many years, the MSA has been a welcoming place for people doing work on what we might think of as "early postcolonial" literature (1950-1980, roughly). This is the era of people like Naipaul and Lamming, Khushwant Singh, Mulk Raj Anand, C.L.R. James, etc.
*
On the panel where I presented, Ben Fried gave a paper on the relationship between V.S. Naipaul and his publisher, Andre Deutsch. Deutsch was a Jewish immigrant who fled from German-occupied Europe. Deutsch and Diana Athill worked together to form a new publishing house (Allan Wingate), which published Naipaul and many other postcolonial writers. Throughout his early career, Naipaul struggled with the tension of being a highly culturally grounded writer at a time when publishers were looking for "universal" appeal.
*
On another panel, I saw a paper by Rochona Mojumdar of the University of Chicago. She was interested in the dialogue between Mrinal Sen's early 1970s "Calcutta Trilogy" and radical Latin America in the "Third Cinema" movement -- specifically, Fernando Solanas' revolutionary classic, La Hora de Los Hornos (The Hour of the Furnaces), and Sen's Padatik (1973). There's an interesting moment of borrowing or appropriation in Sen's film -- where he takes the exact footage of police beating protestors that also appears in Solanas' film.
*
I also attended this panel:
R28. Mediating Empire: Comparative Colonialisms, Comparative Media Studies
Chair: Jessica Berman, University of Maryland, Baltimore County
Daniel Morse, University of Nevada, Reno
Stephen Pasqualina, University of Detroit-Mercy
Abhipsa Chakraborty, SUNY Buffalo
Nasia Anam, University of Nevada, Reno
This was another standout panel, with papers on radio adaptations of Raja Rao's Kanthapura, CLR James' broadcasts on the BBC, and more. Recent scholarship on the BBC's radio broadcasts has really expanded our understanding of how postcolonial literature emerged as a new formation during and after World War II.
*
On Sunday morning, I was in a Digital Humanities Seminar, on "Modernism in/and as Data." It was a fun and productive discussion.
Turning to Toni Morrison in a Time of Trump
Toni Morrison has a short essay called “Racism and Fascism,” an excerpt from a speech she gave at Howard University in 1995. Here is the first part of it:
Let us be reminded that before there is a final solution, there must be a first solution, a second one, even a third. The move toward a final solution is not a jump. It takes one step, then another, then another. Something, perhaps, like this:
(1) Construct an internal enemy, as both focus and diversion.
(2) Isolate and demonize that enemy by unleashing and protecting the utterance of overt and coded name-calling and verbal abuse. Employ ad hominem attacks as legitimate charges against that enemy.
(3) Enlist and create sources and distributors of information who are willing to reinforce the demonizing process because it is profitable, because it grants power and because it works.
(4) Palisade all art forms; monitor, discredit or expel those that challenge or destabilize processes of demonization and deification.
(5) Subvert and malign all representatives of and sympathizers with this constructed enemy.
(6) Solicit, from among the enemy, collaborators who agree with and can sanitize the dispossession process.
(7) Pathologize the enemy in scholarly and popular mediums; recycle, for example, scientific racism and the myths of racial superiority in order to naturalize the pathology.
(8) Criminalize the enemy. Then prepare, budget for and rationalize the building of holding arenas for the enemy-especially its males and absolutely its children.
(9) Reward mindlessness and apathy with monumentalized entertainments and with little pleasures, tiny seductions, a few minutes on television, a few lines in the press, a little pseudo-success, the illusion of power and influence, a little fun, a little style, a little consequence.
(10) Maintain, at all costs, silence. (Source)
How might this help us as we prepare for a second Trump presidency?
I see it as a helpful set of warnings – what we should be on guard against – but also a reminder.
It’s a reminder that European fascism and American institutionalized racism weren’t actually that different. In some ways, the “first solution” Morrison outlines – the creation of an internal enemy, which was demonized, criminalized, and studied in pseuodscientific ways, and then subjected to intense, spectacular group violence – that is as American as apple pie. This was lynching. This was the one-drop rule. This was Tulsa and Springfield, East St. Louis and Selma. So there's a precedent for this in America -- a distinctly American style of fascism with a quaint-sounding name ("Jim Crow").
But there are also warnings in Morrison’s list of new areas of focus; this is what we should be looking out for in a second Trump administration. Today, fascism need not look and sound like a man with a mustache screaming into a microphone in front of a massive crowd of brownshirted supporters. In the social media era, fascism can look like a racist meme on TikTok that people chuckle at on their phones while sitting on the toilet.
We know from the campaign who their favorites are: 1) racialized “illegal immigrants,” 2) queer and transgender folks.
Let’s look at this image again:
Notice that it’s not enough to simply say “there are illegal immigrants who commit crimes, and we should deal with that.” For Trump, it’s important to show the faces of the villains on stage -- to shame and vilify them. If he could have these men physically on stage with him to be jeered at by the rabid crowd, he would absolutely do that
Remember in the campaign the time he suggested rounding up undocumented immigrants and creating a "migrant fighter" league for UFC fights? That.
And of course, remember “They’re eating the cats, they’re eating the dogs” from the debate in August? Fascist movements demonize minoritized communities by fixating on what they eat or don’t eat. They also invent vicious lies about those communities out of whole cloth and convince millions to believe in those lies.
As Morrison says in “Racism and Fascism,” “Reward mindlessness and apathy with monumentalized entertainments and with little pleasures, tiny seductions…” I am sure the guy who made this YouTube video thought he was criticizing Trump. The millions who chuckled at the video on their phones? Not so much.
The other villains of Trump's campaign were queer and transgender people. Something like 40% of all of Trump's TV advertisements in swing states were focused on an anti-trans campaign, with images like this one:
I'm sure we'll see more of this in the weeks to come: distorted images of queer and trans people put forward to elicit revulsion and disgust from mainstream viewers.
Finally, note Morrison's #10: "Maintain, at all costs, silence." Silence has already been the rule for Donald Trump's many enablers and apologists. There is nothing he could say or do that would lead his followers to criticize him or disown him. They are loudly silent. But that does not have to be true for the rest of us.
Fall 2024 Teaching: Virginia Woolf (Grad Seminar)
Short Description:
Virginia Woolf is a towering figure of the modern novel. She is also a highly influential and accomplished essayist and philosopher, whose arguments continue to be influential to feminism, queer studies, medical humanities, and critiques of militarism, imperialism, and industrialized capitalism to the present day. This course will do a deep dive into Woolf's fiction and nonfiction, from her early short stories to major novels like Mrs. Dalloway, To the Lighthouse, and Orlando, as well as long nonfiction essays, including A Room of One's Own and Three Guineas. Attention will be paid to Woolf's engagement with major historical events (the two World Wars, the advent of women's suffrage, and colonialism/Empire) as well as her literary milieu (the Bloomsbury movement). Various critical lenses for reading Woolf's writing will be introduced at appropriate moments, including feminist and queer theory, psychoanalysis, and medical humanities scholarship, especially linked to Woolf's representations of mental illness (depression, bipolar disorder).
Virginia Woolf, "Thunder at Wembley" (1924)
Virginia Woolf, "Thunder at Wembley." Published in The Nation and the Athenaeum, June 28, 1924
It is nature that is the ruin of Wembley; yet it is difficult to see what steps Lord Stevenson, Lieut.- General Sir Travers Clarke, and the Duke of Devonshire could have taken to keep her out. They might have eradicated the grass and felled the chestnut trees; even so the thrushes would have got in, and there would always have been the sky. At Earl’s Court and the White City, so far as memory serves, there was little trouble from this source. The area was too small; the light too brilliant. If a single real moth strayed in to dally with the arc lamps he was at once transformed into a dizzy reveller; if a laburnum tree shook her tassels, spangles of limelight floated in the violet and crimson air. Everything was intoxicated and transformed. But at Wembley nothing is changed and nobody is drunk. They say, indeed, that there is a restaurant where each diner is forced to spend a guinea upon his dinner. What vistas of cold ham that statement calls forth! What pyramids of rolls! What gallons of tea and coffee! For it is unthinkable that there should be champagne, plovers’ eggs, or peaches at Wembley. And for six and eightpence two people can buy as much ham and bread as they need. Six and eightpence is not a large sum; but neither is it a small sum. It is a moderate sum, a mediocre sum. It is the prevailing sum at Wembley. You look through an open door at a regiment of motor-cars aligned in avenues. They are not opulent and powerful; they are not flimsy and cheap. Six and eightpence seems to be the price of each of them. It is the same with the machines for crushing gravel. One can imagine better; one can imagine worse. The machine before us is a serviceable type, and costs, inevitably, six and eight-pence. Dress fabrics, rope, table linen, old masters, sugar, wheat, filigree silver, pepper, birds’ nests (edible, and exported to Hong Kong), camphor, bees-wax, rattans, and the rest—why trouble to ask the price? One knows beforehand—six and eightpence. As for the buildings themselves, those vast, smooth, grey palaces, no vulgar riot of ideas tumbled expensively in their architect’s head; equally, cheapness was abhorrent to him, and vulgarity anathema. Per perch, rod, or square foot, however ferro-concrete palaces are sold, they too work out at six and eightpence.
But then, just as one is beginning a little wearily to fumble with those two fine words—democracy, mediocrity—nature asserts herself where one would least look to find her—in clergymen, school children, girls, young men, invalids in bath-chairs. They pass, quietly, silently, in coveys, in groups, sometimes alone. They mount the enormous staircases; they stand in queues to have their spectacles rectified gratis; to have their fountain pens filled gratis; they gaze respectfully into sacks of grain; glance reverently at mowing machines from Canada; now and again stoop to remove some paper bag or banana skin and place it in the receptacles provided for that purpose at frequent intervals along the avenues. But what has happened to our contemporaries? Each is beautiful; each is stately. Can it be that one is seeing human beings for the first time? In streets they hurry; in houses they talk; they are bankers in banks; sell shoes in shops. Here against the enormous background of ferro-concrete Britain, of rosy Burma, at large, unoccupied, they reveal themselves simply as human beings, creatures of leisure, civilization, and dignity; a little languid perhaps, a little attenuated, but a product to be proud of. Indeed, they are the ruin of the Exhibition. The Duke of Devonshire and his colleagues should have kept them out. As you watch them trailing and flowing, dreaming and speculating, admiring this coffee-grinder, that milk and cream separator, the rest of the show becomes insignificant. And what, one asks, is the spell it lays upon them? How, with all this dignity of their own, can they bring themselves to believe in that?
But this cynical reflection, at once so chill and so superior, was made, of course, by the thrush. Down in the Amusement Compound by some grave oversight on the part of the Committee several trees and rhododendron bushes have been allowed to remain; and these, as anybody could have foretold, attract the birds. As you wait your turn to be hoisted into mid-air, it is impossible not to hear the thrush singing. You look up, and discover a whole chestnut tree with its blossoms standing; you look down, and see ordinary grass, scattered with petals, harbouring insects, sprinkled with stray wild flowers. The gramophone does its best; they light a horse-shoe of fairy lamps above the Jack and Jill; a man bangs a bladder and implores you to come and tickle monkeys; boatloads of serious men are poised on the heights of the scenic railway; but all is vain. The cry of ecstasy that should have split the sky as the boat dropped to its doom patters from leaf to leaf, dies, falls flat, while the thrush proceeds with his statement.
And then some woman, in the row of red-brick villas - outside the grounds, comes out and wrings a dish-cloth in her backyard. All this the Duke of Devonshire should have prevented.
The problem of the sky, however, remains. Is it, one wonders, lying back limp but acquiescent in a green deck-chair, part of the Exhibition? Is it lending itself with exquisite tact to show off to the best advantage snowy Palestine, ruddy Burma, sand-coloured Canada, and the minarets and pagodas of our possessions in the East? So quietly it suffers all these domes and palaces to melt into its breast; receives them with such sombre and tender discretion; so exquisitely allows the rare lamps of Jack and Jill and the Monkey-Teasers to bear themselves like stars. But even as we watch and admire what we would fain credit to the forethought of Lieut.- General Sir Travers Clarke, a rushing sound is heard. Is it the wind or is it the British Empire Exhibition?
It is both. The wind is rising and shuffling along the avenues; the Massed Bands of Empire are assembling and marching to the Stadium. Men like pincushions, men like pouter pigeons, men like pillar-boxes pass in procession. Dust swirls after them. Admirably impassive, the bands of Empire march on. Soon they will have entered the fortress; soon the gates will have clanged. But let them hasten! For either the sky has misread her directions or some appalling catastrophe is impending. The sky is livid, lurid, sulphurine. It is in violent commotion. It is whirling water-spouts of cloud into the air; of dust in the Exhibition. Dust swirls down the avenues, hisses and hurries like erected cobras round the corners. Pagodas are dissolving in dust. Ferro-concrete is fallible. Colonies are perishing and dispersing in spray of inconceivable beauty and terror which some malignant power illuminates. Ash and violet are the colours of its decay. From every quarter human beings come flying—clergymen, school children, invalids in bath-chairs. They fly with outstretched arms, and a vast sound of wailing rolls before them, but there is neither confusion nor dismay. Humanity is rushing to destruction, but humanity is accepting its doom. Canada opens a frail tent of shelter. Clergymen and school children gain its portals. Out in the open, under a cloud of electric silver, the bands of Empire strike up. The bagpipes neigh. Clergy, school children, and invalids group themselves round the Prince of Wales in butter. Cracks like the white roots of trees spread themselves across the firmament. The Empire is perishing; the bands are playing; the Exhibition is in ruins, For that is what comes of letting in the sky.
It is nature that is the ruin of Wembley; yet it is difficult to see what steps Lord Stevenson, Lieut.- General Sir Travers Clarke, and the Duke of Devonshire could have taken to keep her out. They might have eradicated the grass and felled the chestnut trees; even so the thrushes would have got in, and there would always have been the sky. At Earl’s Court and the White City, so far as memory serves, there was little trouble from this source. The area was too small; the light too brilliant. If a single real moth strayed in to dally with the arc lamps he was at once transformed into a dizzy reveller; if a laburnum tree shook her tassels, spangles of limelight floated in the violet and crimson air. Everything was intoxicated and transformed. But at Wembley nothing is changed and nobody is drunk. They say, indeed, that there is a restaurant where each diner is forced to spend a guinea upon his dinner. What vistas of cold ham that statement calls forth! What pyramids of rolls! What gallons of tea and coffee! For it is unthinkable that there should be champagne, plovers’ eggs, or peaches at Wembley. And for six and eightpence two people can buy as much ham and bread as they need. Six and eightpence is not a large sum; but neither is it a small sum. It is a moderate sum, a mediocre sum. It is the prevailing sum at Wembley. You look through an open door at a regiment of motor-cars aligned in avenues. They are not opulent and powerful; they are not flimsy and cheap. Six and eightpence seems to be the price of each of them. It is the same with the machines for crushing gravel. One can imagine better; one can imagine worse. The machine before us is a serviceable type, and costs, inevitably, six and eight-pence. Dress fabrics, rope, table linen, old masters, sugar, wheat, filigree silver, pepper, birds’ nests (edible, and exported to Hong Kong), camphor, bees-wax, rattans, and the rest—why trouble to ask the price? One knows beforehand—six and eightpence. As for the buildings themselves, those vast, smooth, grey palaces, no vulgar riot of ideas tumbled expensively in their architect’s head; equally, cheapness was abhorrent to him, and vulgarity anathema. Per perch, rod, or square foot, however ferro-concrete palaces are sold, they too work out at six and eightpence.
But then, just as one is beginning a little wearily to fumble with those two fine words—democracy, mediocrity—nature asserts herself where one would least look to find her—in clergymen, school children, girls, young men, invalids in bath-chairs. They pass, quietly, silently, in coveys, in groups, sometimes alone. They mount the enormous staircases; they stand in queues to have their spectacles rectified gratis; to have their fountain pens filled gratis; they gaze respectfully into sacks of grain; glance reverently at mowing machines from Canada; now and again stoop to remove some paper bag or banana skin and place it in the receptacles provided for that purpose at frequent intervals along the avenues. But what has happened to our contemporaries? Each is beautiful; each is stately. Can it be that one is seeing human beings for the first time? In streets they hurry; in houses they talk; they are bankers in banks; sell shoes in shops. Here against the enormous background of ferro-concrete Britain, of rosy Burma, at large, unoccupied, they reveal themselves simply as human beings, creatures of leisure, civilization, and dignity; a little languid perhaps, a little attenuated, but a product to be proud of. Indeed, they are the ruin of the Exhibition. The Duke of Devonshire and his colleagues should have kept them out. As you watch them trailing and flowing, dreaming and speculating, admiring this coffee-grinder, that milk and cream separator, the rest of the show becomes insignificant. And what, one asks, is the spell it lays upon them? How, with all this dignity of their own, can they bring themselves to believe in that?
But this cynical reflection, at once so chill and so superior, was made, of course, by the thrush. Down in the Amusement Compound by some grave oversight on the part of the Committee several trees and rhododendron bushes have been allowed to remain; and these, as anybody could have foretold, attract the birds. As you wait your turn to be hoisted into mid-air, it is impossible not to hear the thrush singing. You look up, and discover a whole chestnut tree with its blossoms standing; you look down, and see ordinary grass, scattered with petals, harbouring insects, sprinkled with stray wild flowers. The gramophone does its best; they light a horse-shoe of fairy lamps above the Jack and Jill; a man bangs a bladder and implores you to come and tickle monkeys; boatloads of serious men are poised on the heights of the scenic railway; but all is vain. The cry of ecstasy that should have split the sky as the boat dropped to its doom patters from leaf to leaf, dies, falls flat, while the thrush proceeds with his statement.
And then some woman, in the row of red-brick villas - outside the grounds, comes out and wrings a dish-cloth in her backyard. All this the Duke of Devonshire should have prevented.
The problem of the sky, however, remains. Is it, one wonders, lying back limp but acquiescent in a green deck-chair, part of the Exhibition? Is it lending itself with exquisite tact to show off to the best advantage snowy Palestine, ruddy Burma, sand-coloured Canada, and the minarets and pagodas of our possessions in the East? So quietly it suffers all these domes and palaces to melt into its breast; receives them with such sombre and tender discretion; so exquisitely allows the rare lamps of Jack and Jill and the Monkey-Teasers to bear themselves like stars. But even as we watch and admire what we would fain credit to the forethought of Lieut.- General Sir Travers Clarke, a rushing sound is heard. Is it the wind or is it the British Empire Exhibition?
It is both. The wind is rising and shuffling along the avenues; the Massed Bands of Empire are assembling and marching to the Stadium. Men like pincushions, men like pouter pigeons, men like pillar-boxes pass in procession. Dust swirls after them. Admirably impassive, the bands of Empire march on. Soon they will have entered the fortress; soon the gates will have clanged. But let them hasten! For either the sky has misread her directions or some appalling catastrophe is impending. The sky is livid, lurid, sulphurine. It is in violent commotion. It is whirling water-spouts of cloud into the air; of dust in the Exhibition. Dust swirls down the avenues, hisses and hurries like erected cobras round the corners. Pagodas are dissolving in dust. Ferro-concrete is fallible. Colonies are perishing and dispersing in spray of inconceivable beauty and terror which some malignant power illuminates. Ash and violet are the colours of its decay. From every quarter human beings come flying—clergymen, school children, invalids in bath-chairs. They fly with outstretched arms, and a vast sound of wailing rolls before them, but there is neither confusion nor dismay. Humanity is rushing to destruction, but humanity is accepting its doom. Canada opens a frail tent of shelter. Clergymen and school children gain its portals. Out in the open, under a cloud of electric silver, the bands of Empire strike up. The bagpipes neigh. Clergy, school children, and invalids group themselves round the Prince of Wales in butter. Cracks like the white roots of trees spread themselves across the firmament. The Empire is perishing; the bands are playing; the Exhibition is in ruins, For that is what comes of letting in the sky.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)