Smarty Pants From The American Scholar

Few people have read the Hebrew Bible all the way through—maybe you memorized a portion for your bar or bat mitzvah, or read parts of it in Sunday school or a college course. But the whole thing? Hardly. Fewer people still have read it as a work of literature, treating every sentence as an expression of literary style. Even fewer have read the Bible all the way through in the original language, gotten frustrated with available English translations, and then decided to blaze ahead with their own. One such person is award-winning translator and literary critic Robert Alter, who between books of literary criticism on the modern novel has been translating the Hebrew Bible for more than two decades. Last year, he finished: all 24 books of the Bible—a three-volume set weighing 10 pounds and three ounces. Go beyond the episode:Robert Alter’s translation of the Hebrew Bible, and his follow-up, The Art of Bible TranslationHis Ten Commandments for Bible Translators:Thou shalt not make translation an explanation of

Women in wars on land and sea, whether queens or foot soldiers, rarely get their due—yet their lives are at least as interesting as their male counterparts’, not least because they had to leap through so many hoops to fight. Historian Pamela Toler wants us to know their names, and her new book, Women Warriors, is a global history covering everyone from the Trung sisters, who led an untrained, 80,000-strong Vietnamese army against the Chinese Empire, to Cheyenne warriors like Buffalo Calf Road Woman, who knocked General Custer off his horse. There are at least a hundred killer screenplay ideas lurking in the history books—if only we bothered to look.Go beyond the episode:Pamela D. Toler’s Women Warriors: An Unexpected HistoryRead an excerpt about the Russian First Women’s Battalion of DeathLearn about the lady pirates time forgot, including one who gave birth in the middle of a sea battle (and still won) and Cheng I Sao, who negotiated a sweet retirement package with the Chinese government when the Navy c

Lillian Smith was the most radical writer you’ve never heard of—a novelist, essayist, civil rights activist, and general bomb thrower, as Tracy Thompson describes her in “Southern Cassandra,” an essay from our Spring issue. Born in 1897, Smith grew up among what she called “the best people”—the wealthy, southern aristocracy—but she betrayed every value of her social class until the day she died in 1966. She pushed for immediate desegregation in an era when the notion made most white people balk, drew a straight, damning line between race and sex, and argued that there was no way to untangle the rationale of Jim Crow from the supposed need to protect the purity of white women. Nobody listened to her at the time. But as Thompson argues, maybe if we had we’d be a little better off.Go beyond the episode:Read Tracy Thompson’s essay, “Southern Cassandra”Watch the trailer for Breaking the Silence, a documentary about SmithVisit some of Smith’s haunts on the Southern Literary TrailCheck out Smith’s books: Strange Fru

Wild, blossoming cherries are native to many diverse lands, from the British Isles and Norway to Morocco and Tunisia. But they’re most associated with Japan, where the sakura is the national flower. These days, though, you’ll find blossoming cherries everywhere, on practically every continent. For that, we must thank a lot of dedicated botanists, who braved world wars and long sea voyages—and endured repeated failures—to spread the sakura around the world. But there’s one naturalist in particular we can thank: Collingwood “Cherry” Ingram. Journalist Naoko Abe joins us on the podcast to share how this English eccentric saved some of Japan’s most iconic cherry blossoms—from the spectacular Great White Cherry to the pink Hokusai—from extinction.Go beyond the episode:Naoko Abe’s The Sakura ObsessionIf you’re in Washington, D.C., check out the National Cherry Blossom Festival. Peak bloom is now expected on April 1!The National Park Service created a map and a list of the cherry blossom varieties in the citySmithso

This week, we’re exploring another overlooked angle of antebellum American history: how photography transformed the abolitionist movement—and in particular, how a photograph of one seven-year-old girl was used to gain a white audience's sympathy. Jessie Morgan-Owens, a photographer and a historian, has written a book about that little girl, Mary Mildred Williams: Girl in Black and White, so named for the tones of daguerreotype, and of Mary herself—who looked white, though she was born into slavery. The story of how Senator Charles Sumner used Mary to advance his antislavery cause tells us a lot about the politics of the 19th century.Go beyond the episode:Jessie Morgan-Owens’s Girl in Black and WhiteRead Frederick Douglass’s speech, “Pictures and Progress,” delivered in Boston in 1861, and the introduction to Maurice O. Wallace and Shawn Michelle Williams’s anthology of Douglass’s writing on photography (and if you’re feeling particularly brave, try parsing Douglass’s own manuscript at the Library of Congress)

In her explosive new book, They Were Her Property, historian Stephanie E. Jones-Rogers corrects the record about white women slave owners in the American South, proving that slavery and its associated markets were far from the sole domain of men. Since women often inherited more slaves than land, they were deeply invested, in a social, moral, and an economic sense, in the trade of enslaved people. A white woman could cordon off her property from her husband’s in a prenuptial agreement, preserve her right to manage her own property, and fend off her husband’s debtors in court. She also ensured the continued reproduction of the institution by engaging in the market for wet-nurses, who were often coerced into serendipitous pregnancies through sexual violence, and whose breast-milk was then used to nurse white children. How does the power of women slave owners change our understanding of the relationship among gender, slavery, and capitalism in the 19th century? Why were these relationships obscured for so long?&

The concept of equality has been with us since the founding of the United States, and it's been revised and fought over and debated for about as long, from the Civil War and the Fourteenth Amendment to the culture wars and the legalization of same-sex marriage. But not every argument for equality that is brought up in a court of law goes well. In fact, equality arguments often backfire, ending up affirming inequality: Dred Scott v. Sandford, Plessy v. Ferguson, Korematsu v. United States … or just last year, Trump v. Hawaii. Losing the battle in court for an abstract concept like equality has tangible consequences for people on the ground, from trans soldiers to Iranian kids seeking lifesaving medical treatment. But what if there’s a way to fight for equal treatment without sending current laws backsliding? American University law professor Robert Tsai joins us on the podcast to argue for what he calls “practical equality.”Go beyond the episode:Robert L. Tsai’s Practical Equality: Forging Justice in a Divide

On Sunday, Black Panther made history as the first superhero movie with a Best Picture Oscar nomination. And though it didn’t win that one, the film did win the most Oscars in the history of superhero movies. Given those historic firsts, and the inevitable onslaught of superhero movies that 2019 will bring, we're revisiting one of the first episodes from the podcast. Professor and comic book fan Ramzi Fawaz joined us to talk about origin stories, the X-Men, and what the queerness of the original mutant family can tell us about comic book heroes today.Go beyond the episode:Ramzi Fawaz's The New Mutants: Superheroes and the Radical Imagination of American ComicsRead his essays “Notes on Wonder Woman” and “The Difference a Mutant Makes”Watch the trailers for The New Mutants and Dark Phoenix, both coming out this summerRead the case that William Moulton Marston, the creator of Wonder Woman, makes for superheroes—and “Why 100,000,000 Americans Read Comics”Check out our interview with lifelong nerd and critic A. D.

Emily Bernard has offered her essays to The American Scholar since 2005, when we published “Teaching the N-Word.” She's written a lot of essays since then, essays that prove their etymology: the French word essayer—to try. She tries on different ways of thinking about what it means to be black, or the mother of daughters adopted from Ethiopia, or married to a white man, or the American daughter of a Trinidadian father. She joins us on the podcast to sort through the questions—and some of the answers—that form the heart of her new collection, Black Is the Body.Go beyond the episode:Emily Bernard’s Black Is the Body: Stories from My Grandmother’s Time, My Mother’s Time, and MineRead her essays in The American Scholar: “Teaching the N-Word,” “Interstates,” “Scar Tissue,” and a bonus from our archives about friendship, “Fired.”Tune in every week to catch interviews with the liveliest voices from literature, the arts, sciences, history, and public affairs; reports on cutting-edge works in progress; long-form narra

Alain Mabanckou is an award-winning Congolese essayist, novelist, and poet with a string of darkly funny books to his name. His work pokes at taboos and the borders between literary traditions with glee and irreverence—while subverting what it means to be an African writer, educated in Congo-Brazzaville and in France, now living and writing in America. His second novel, Broken Glass, is narrated by a former schoolteacher turned drunk, also named Broken Glass, who records the irregular lives of the regulars at his local bar, Credit Gone West. It’s a potent apéritif for the dark humor of his work—just mind you don’t drink too deep.Go beyond the episode:Alain Mabanckou’s Broken GlassRead Amos Tutuola’s The Palm Wine Drinkard, the first African novel published in English outside of Africa (and the wild ups and downs of its critical reception)Read The Paris Review interview with Louis-Ferdinand Céline, like Tutuola, an inspiration for MabanckouOf the Latin American writers Mabanckou named, Gabriel García Márquez a

Opiates have gone by many names in their millennia-long entanglement with humans, in an ever-refined chain of pleasure: poppy tears, opium, heroin, morphine. With the advent of synthetic opiates like fentanyl, we’re seeing addiction and devastation on a scale unmatched in the 5,000-year history of the drug—but also a return to some of the same patterns and failed attempts at regulation that have haunted our efforts to control it. Cultural historian Lucy Inglis tells the painful, pain-fighting story of opium, and how its history is really our history—from trade and war to medicine and money.Go beyond the episode:Lucy Inglis’s Milk of Paradise: A History of Opium “Opioids and Paternalism” by David Brown, considers how doctors and patients need to find a new way to think about pain“The Family That Built an Empire of Pain” by Patrick Radden Keefe, profiles the Sackler family, owners of Purdue Pharma—the makers of OxyContin“Dying To Be Free” by Jason Cherkis, which explores Suboxone treatment“What the media gets w

In the past 30 years, electronic dance music (or EDM) has gone from underground culture to a global phenomenon. Journalist Matthew Collin drew on the British rave scene for his earlier work—a book called Altered State. But in the 20 years since that book came out, and even in the time it took to write it, EDM and its culture have completely transformed. The tunes on the radio and the DJs who put on giant shows in places like Ibiza look—and sound—very different from the originators of the genre, like the musicians who invented acid house in 1980s Chicago. Collin traveled around the world to figure out whether the EDM of today still holds onto its liberating roots—or whether commercialization killed the music.Go beyond the episode:Matthew Collin’s Rave On: Global Adventures in Electronic Dance MusicRead about the clash between techno fans and extremists in TbilisiRead some of the many effusive obituaries commemorating Frankie Knuckles, “Godfather of House Music”Watch a trailer for the 1990 movie Paris Is Burnin

The Snow Maiden—not to be confused with the Snow Queen, Snow White, or Frosty the Snow Man—is a popular Slavic folktale about an elderly couple and a miraculous child born from snow. In addition to being a charming story about the passing of seasons, it references a number of folk rituals, from jumping over fires on the summer solstice to mock funerals marking the Yuletide. Philippa Rappoport, a lecturer in Russian culture at George Washington University, explains how folktales and rituals overlap, and reads aloud her own version of this wintry tale.This is our last episode of the year, and we want to hear from you about 2019! If there are any subjects or guests you would especially like to hear on the show, send us an email at podcast@theamericanscholar.org. And, of course, help us find more listeners by rating us on iTunes and telling all your friends.Go beyond the episode:Read six versions of “The Snow Maiden,” classified by folklorist D. L. Ashliman as tales of “type 703,” or, relatedly, nine different sp

The modern American home is a wilderness: there are thousands of species of insects, bacteria, fungi, and plants that lurk in our floorboards, on our counters, and inside our kitchen cabinets—not to mention the microbes that flavor our food itself. The trouble with wilderness, however, is that humans always want to tame it. Cleaning, bleaching, sterilizing, and killing the organisms in our homes has had unintended—and dangerous—consequences for our health and the environment. Biologist Rob Dunn, a professor in the department of applied ecology at North Carolina State University, joins us to impart some manners about how to welcome these formerly unknown guests into our homes.Go beyond the episode:Rob Dunn’s Never Home AloneDig deeper into the experiments mentioned in the show, like the sourdough project or the world’s largest survey of showerheadsCat people: track your cat to reveal its secret life—and what it brings into your home—in this citizen science projectMore opportunities to participate in scien

Opera has a bad rap: it's stuffy, long, convoluted, expensive, weird … and at the end of the day, who really understands sung Italian anyway? The barriers aren’t just financial: there are hundreds of years of musical history at work, along with dozens of arcane terms that defy pronunciation. But opera has been loved by ardent fans for centuries, and the experience of seeing it—once you know what to listen for—can be sublime. So we asked Vivien Schweitzer, a former classical music and opera critic for The New York Times, to teach us how to listen to opera.Go beyond the episode:Read Vivien Schweitzer’s A Mad Love: An Introduction to OperaListen to the accompanying Spotify playlistReady? Find an opera performance near you by searching the National Opera Center of America’s database of upcoming offeringsListen to the Metropolitan Opera’s Saturday Matinee Broadcasts or catch it live in a movie theater near youAt The Guardian, Imogen Tilde explains “How to find cheap opera tickets”Songs sampled during the epis

You've probably seen the photographs that Lynsey Addario has taken, even if you don't necessarily know her name. For more than 20 years, she’s covered life in conflict zones around the world, from Afghanistan under the Taliban and the U.S. invasion of Iraq and its aftermath, to the genocide in Darfur and maternal death in the Philippines—too much suffering, in too many places, to name, or even imagine. But in her images, Addario captures the small joys, too, of the ordinary experiences lived between the cracks of war: children playing, young couples getting married, births, deaths, cooking, going to the movies, even sleeping. In the contrast between these ordinary moments and their extraordinary, often brutal circumstances, Addario manages the impossible, and holds together all the fragments of human life she's witnessed in her two decades of conflict photography.Visit our episode page for a slideshow of Lynsey Addario’s work.Go beyond the episode:Lynsey Addario’s Of Love and WarThe New York Times cover story

When disaffected teens in East Berlin first heard the Sex Pistols on British military radio in 1977, they couldn’t have known that those radio waves would spark a revolution. In the DDR, or East Germany, everyday life was obsessively planned and oppressively boring. To be punk was to be an individual, someone who wasn’t having any of the state’s rules. That didn’t exactly endear punks to the Stasi, the DDR’s dreaded secret police. Punks lost their jobs and families, were spied on for years by their own friends, had their homes searched and trashed by the police, and were even thrown in prison for dissidence. But every time the state cracked down, the punks only fanned the flames of resistance, ultimately firing up a nationwide, mainstream protest movement. American writer, translator, and former Berlin DJ Tim Mohr joins us on the podcast to tell the story of how punk rock brought down the Wall—on this day 29 years ago.Go beyond the episode:Tim Mohr’s Burning Down the HausFor photographs of East German punks,

You may have heard of them before: those pale creatures with suspiciously sharp canines that sleep in coffins during the day, hunt people at night, and occasionally transform into bats. Stories of bloodsucking monsters have haunted humanity for hundreds, even thousands of years—but the modern vampire was arguably born when Enlightenment rationality met Eastern European folklore. That’s Nick Groom’s argument: he’s known as the Prof of Goth, and he makes the case that vampires rose from the grave at the same time that philosophy, theology, forensic medicine, and literature were beginning to question what it meant to be human. Why have vampires lingered in the imagination for hundreds of years? Nick Groom joins us on the podcast to open some coffins for answers.Go beyond the episode:Nick Groom’s The Vampire: A New HistoryThe London Library reported this week that it located some of the dog-eared books Bram Stoker used during the seven years he researched Dracula Watch the trailer for The Hunger (1983), in w

A. N. Devers is a writer and rare book dealer whose business, The Second Shelf, centers on all the women writers that time forgot. When she first entered the trade, she noticed that these writers were getting second shrift: sold for less money, not sold at all, and left out of the archives. Why were so many award-winning, well-reviewed books by women sliding out of print? Since rare book dealers are often the ones who shape the collections of archives and libraries—and thus the materials scholars and researchers have to work with—the Second Shelf aims to flood that pipeline with women’s work. Shift the bookshelves, and you just may shift the canon. We spoke with a number of booksellers to get a picture of the trade today, and with Devers about how she’s hoping to change it.Go beyond the episode:Peruse The Second Shelf website and preorder a copy of its first quarterlyCheck out Honey & Wax Booksellers, a woman-owned enterprise founded in 2011Get to know Bette Howland, in A. N. Devers’s

What’s spookier than the Tower of London, home to the ghosts of queens and the rest of Henry the VIII’s enemies? How about the half-dozen black ravens that inhabit it—without which, as legend has it, the Tower will crumble and the kingdom will fall? Since there haven’t been dead bodies littering the Tower Green for centuries, someone has to keep the ravens alive—and that person is the Ravenmaster, Christopher Skaife. As a Yeoman Warder, Skaife is one of the custodians of the Tower’s rich history and traditions, and he joins us to offer a bird’s-eye view of his life among the ravens.Go beyond the episode:Christopher Skaife’s The RavenmasterRead an excerpt about the birds’ daily routineFollow Merlina the raven (with help from the Ravenmaster) on TwitterFor more scary tales, read ex-Yeoman Warder Geoffrey Abott’s book, Ghosts of the Tower of London For photographs that Skaife says “come very close to capturing the true majesty and mystery of the birds,” see Masahisa Fukase’s Ravens seriesBehold, the funerals of