Hostname: page-component-78c5997874-v9fdk Total loading time: 0 Render date: 2024-11-17T23:05:15.590Z Has data issue: false hasContentIssue false

Guest Column: Roundtable on the Future of the Humanities in a Fragmented World

Published online by Cambridge University Press:  23 October 2020

Extract

As i thought about the subject of this panel, “the future of the humanities in a fragmented world,” the implications of each word proved elusive. What does “future” mean? What aspect of the humanities? When was the world not “fragmented”? Is that a bad or a good thing? And “world,” of course, could reference anything from planet to Disney (between the two of which there may turn out to be no distinction).

Type
Other
Copyright
Copyright © Modern Language Association of America, 2005

Access options

Get access to the full version of this content by using one of the access options below. (Log in options will check for institutional or personal access. Content may require purchase if you do not have access.)

References

Notes

1 Kant's famous phrase, commonly translated “purposiveness without purpose” (Bernard 55). It is more correctly rendered in Paul Guyer's recent translation: “purposiveness can thus exist without an end” (105). To keep Kant's rhythm, we might say “goal-orientedness without goal.”

2 This cryptic sentence summarizes twenty-five years of classroom teaching around the problem of socialist ethics. After giving this talk, I felt empowered by a comment from Jody Melamed, a former student now teaching at Marquette University who was present in the audience, that she instantly understood what I meant because she had been in my classroom. A partial explanation is offered at the end of the essay, when I comment on the relation between redistribution and a sympathetic imagination.

3 “[T]o cut or shape with a jig-saw; also, to fit together the pieces of a jig-saw puzzle. Freq. fig.” (“Jig-saw”).

4 When Adorno writes, “The fragment is the intrusion of death [der Eingriffdes Todes] in the work” (493; trans. modified), it can be read as the death of the author and the invocation of an indefinite chain of readership. It is the work of life/death, what I would call the signature of orature in literature, coming “alive” with each act of reading and “dying” for the next reader.