Smarty Pants From The American Scholar

Each week on our sister podcast, Read Me a Poem, Amanda Holmes reads suggestions from listeners around the world. Recently, a listener requested a longer work by the poet Muriel Rukeyser, whose poetry is not as widely known 40 years after her death as it should be. Holmes joins us this week to discuss why Rukeyser’s work speaks to her and then to read the long poem cycle “Letter to the Front,” written in 1944.Go beyond the episode:Listen to Amanda Holmes each week on the Read Me a Poem podcastRead “Letter to the Front” by Muriel RukeyserTry not to chuckle as Rukeyser reads her poem “Waiting for Icarus,” written from the perspective of the ill-fated man’s wifeThe Book of the Dead (1938), reissued in 2018 by West Virginia University Press, was written in response to the 1931 Hawks Nest Tunnel Disaster, in which hundreds of miners, mostly Black, died of silicosis. Rukeyser combined her own observations with trial testimony from the surviving miners’ lawsuit against their employer.“In moments of desperation, a fa

Geoffrey Chaucer was born a wine-merchant’s son in 1340s London. He survived the plague, the Hundred Years’ War, the Great Rising, and an adolescence spent wearing tight pants in a rich woman’s house to become one of the most celebrated poets in English. In the first biography of Chaucer in a generation, historian Marion Turner makes the case that the man we think of as a great English poet was, in fact, a great European one. He was inspired by the literature of Italy, Spain, France, and elsewhere—but more importantly, he drew on his interactions with the people he encountered during his travels, and from the places he visited. For example, how did the frescoes of Florence give rise to the perspectives in The House of Fame? Did Chaucer’s visits to his daughter’s none-too-chaste nunnery influence the bawdy Nun’s Priest’s Tale? Marion Turner takes us back to the Middle Ages to find out. This episode originally aired in 2019.Go beyond the episode:Marion Turner’s Chaucer: A European LifeBrush

On the eve of World War II, a young housewife named Alma Fielding found herself in the grip of a poltergeist hell-bent on flinging china through the air, toppling over dressers, and leaving no egg uncracked in her London home. Her case caught the attention of the Hungarian ghost hunter Nandor Fodor, whose tests at the International Institute for Psychical Research led to ever-odder phenomena from Alma: a bird flew from her skirts, beetles crawled beneath her gloves, stolen jewelry materialized on her fingers. In The Haunting of Alma Fielding, Kate Summerscale tells the story of an investigation that combines the supernatural and subconscious, revealing the very real anxieties of a changing society.Go beyond the episode:Kate Summerscale’s The Haunting of Alma FieldingIf you haven’t seen it yet, you must: PoltergeistAlso Carrie: because Alma’s story is in many ways a mashup of bothIn a reversal of Alma’s story, the unexpectedly excellent Ouija: Origin of Evil follows a family whose fraudulent tricks end in real

Did you notice when it suddenly became okay not to say goodbye at the end of a text message conversation? Have you responded to work emails solely using ?? Is ~ this ~ your favorite punctuation mark for conveying exactly just how much you just don’t care about something? Welcome, Internet Person—you’re using a different kind of English from the previous generation. But these conversational norms weren’t set on high, and how they evolved over the past decades of Internet usage tells us a lot about how language has always been created: collaboratively. Or, as Internet linguist Gretchen McCulloch puts it, “Language is humanity’s most spectacular open source project.” She joins us to analyze the language we use online and off—how it got this way, where it’s going, and why it’s a good thing that our words are changing so quickly. This episode originally aired in 2019.Go beyond the episode:Gretchen McCulloch’s Because InternetRead her Resident Linguist column at Wired, formerly at The Toast

Off the southern tip of South America, the remote and rocky Falkland Islands are home to one of the oddest birds of prey in the world: the striated caracara, which looks like a falcon but acts more like parrot. Charles Darwin had to fend these birds off the hats, compasses, and valuables of the Beagle; the Falkland Islands government had a bounty on their “cheeky” beaks for much of the 20th century; and modern falconers have used their understanding of language to train them to do dog-like tricks. The other nine species of caracara that span the rest of South America are just as odd in their own ways. In his new book, A Most Remarkable Creature, Jonathan Meiburg follows their unusual evolutionary path across the continent and describes his encounters with these birds over the past 25 years. He joins us from his home in Texas to introduce us to some new feathered friends.Go beyond the episode:Jonathan Meiburg’s A Most Remarkable CreatureRead an excerpt about Charles Darwin’s encounters with the birdMeet Tina,

So many tropical storms and hurricanes hit Louisiana’s Isle de Jean Charles that native residents talk about them as if they’re family members: “Who broke that window—Rita? Gustav? It wasn’t Katrina or Ike.” Rising sea levels and increasingly volatile storms bring other, no less harmful consequences, too: groundwater salinization, disappearing wetlands, decimated wildlife and fishing. The choice for people and animals in these places is stark: retreat or die. In her book, Rising: Dispatches from the New American Shore, environmental reporter Elizabeth Rush tells the stories of the life-altering changes happening right now in our own back yards. This episode originally aired in 2018.Go beyond the episode:Elizabeth Rush’s book, Rising: Dispatches from the New American ShoreEpisode page, with a slideshow of Elizabeth Rush's photographs from the book“The Marsh at the End of the World,” an excerpt from the book, published in GuernicaRead an excerpt from Rush’s previous work, Still Lives fr

Stagger Lee is “The Baddest Man in Town,” as poet and critic Eric McHenry writes in our Spring 2021 issue. The man behind the myth—“Stack” Lee Shelton—was a real person, who did many if not most of the things ascribed to him in song (except, perhaps, go down to hell and take over for the devil). The bar, the hat, the gun, all have become mainstays of African-American folklore in the 120 years since Lee made his debut in song. McHenry joins us on the podcast for a look into the life and legend of Stagger Lee, which he exhumed through newly digitized newspaper records and troves of archival recordings—including the conversation between an elderly St. Louis musician and a 1970s graduate student that plucked Lee from a rich oral history tradition and back into the written record.Go beyond the episode:Read Eric McHenry’s essay “The Baddest Man in Town”Compare the oldest known lyrics (from 1897) to Mississippi John Hurt’s definitive 1928 version—or Nick Cave’s depraved oneListen to our Spotify playlist of selected

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. This episode originally aired in 2019.Go beyond the episode:Naoko Abe’s The Sakura ObsessionIf you’re in Washington, D.C., you need not visit the (closed) Tidal Basin to view the cherries—here is a map trees blossoming all over the cityThe National Park Service crea

In the past year of the pandemic, Amazon has added more than 500,000 jobs, mostly in its various warehouses. During the same period, more than 20,000 of its frontline workers tested positive for Covid-19. Their boss, Amazon founder Jeff Bezos, saw his net worth rise by $67 billion. Amazon’s shadow extends beyond the warehouses, though, to the cardboard factories that supply its packaging, the local stores it’s crowded out, and the affordable housing that’s flipped to luxury condos near its headquarters. In his new book, Fulfillment, ProPublica reporter Alec MacGillis uses Amazon as a frame to chronicle the widening gap between winner-take-all-cities and the regions left behind.Go beyond the episode:Alec MacGillis’s Fulfillment: Winning and Losing in One-Click AmericaRead his piece in The New York Times, “Amazon and the Breaking of Baltimore”German novelist Heike Geissler worked at an Amazon fulfillment center to make ends meet—and wrote about the brutal experience in her novel Seasonal AssociateLearn more abo

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 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. This episode originally aired in 2019.Go beyond the episode:Pamela D. Toler’s Women Warriors: An Unexpected HistoryRead an excerpt about the Russian First Women’s Battalion of DeathRead Toler’s piece for us on Peggy Hull, the first woman accredited as a war correspondent by the U.S. militaryLearn about the lady pirates time forgot, includin

Once upon a time, you turned 30 and you already had it all: a spouse, a house, a job, and a passel of kids. But even before the Covid-19 pandemic wreaked havoc on our lives, thirtysomethings’ expectations for their own lives were changing, both by choice and by necessity. Today, they’re getting married later if at all, having fewer kids, taking on more debt, and moving back in with their parents. Is economic upheaval and inequality the primary force behind these shifts? And why do traditional landmarks like getting married still exert such a pull on our psyches? Journalist Kayleen Schaefer conducted hundreds of interviews with researchers and millennials across the country to understand how this generation is redefining adulthood.Go beyond the episode:Kayleen Schaefer’s But You're Still So Young: How Thirtysomethings Are Redefining AdulthoodOne landmark millennials do seem to be hitting? Burnout. Read Anne Helen Petersen’s essay “How Millennials Became the Burnout Generation”Read Paula Marantz Cohen’s essay “

The Aeneid has a reputation: it’s the founding myth of Rome, used down the centuries to justify conquest, colonization, and the expansion of empire the world over. Although Virgil includes many voices in his epic, Aeneas’s is the one that tends to be remembered—and celebrated, especially by his putative descendant, the Emperor Augustus. But with her new translation of The Aeneid, classicist Shadi Bartsch reveals the many ways that Virgil undermines both the glory of Aeneas and the authority of collective memory, down to the very verb used to begin and end the poem. Bartsch joins us on the podcast to untangle how the story of Aeneas is actually many stories, all in conversation with one another. Go beyond the episode:Shadi Bartsch’s translation of The AeneidRead her essay in The Washington Post, “Why I won’t surrender the classics to the far right”Daniel Mendelsohn’s essay “Lost Classics” reminds us that the study of ancient texts is the study of things that are no longer: lives, songs, stories, poems, me

So much of the story we hear about China today concerns Covid-19, or the economy—how over the past few decades, it has risen from poverty and ruin to become a global powerhouse. But there’s a story beneath the surface, of the artistic avant-garde that resisted rule from above and inspired generations of ordinary Chinese citizens to seek freedom of expression. From their countryside re-education posts to the abandoned warehouses of Beijing and the short-lived Democracy Wall, Chinese artists flourished at the edge of acceptability—until the entire edifice came crashing down with the Tiananmen Square massacre. Madeleine O’Dea joins us to talk about her book, The Phoenix Years, which follows the lives of nine contemporary Chinese artists to tell the story of how art shaped a nation.Visit the episode page for portraits and archival images of the artists and their work.Go beyond the episode:Madeleine O’Dea’s The Phoenix Years: Art, Resistance, and the Making of Modern ChinaPeruse

On February 1st, the Burmese military detained high-ranking officials of the National League for Democracy and the leader of the country, Aung San Suu Kyi. It was a coup, haunted by memories of past coups: 1962, when the military first seized power, and then 1988, when student-led protests against that government led to another coup that killed at least 6,000 people. In 2007, hundreds of thousands of monks protested in what became known as the Saffron Revolution, and the military cracked down again, arresting hundreds of people, some of whom still remain in prison. Despite that bloody history, today tens of thousands of people are returning to the streets as part of the so-called Civil Disobedience Movement. It feels like we're all waiting to see what will happen next. Is this the end of Myanmar's decade-long experiment with democracy, or could it be the catalyst for a new movement? To give us a better picture of where things stand, and how they've gotten to this point, we're joined by Columbia University ant

As we in the United States approach a full year of spending even more time than usual at home, and away from friends and family, we’re all a little bit lonely. But even though it might feel as if your immediate family and your pets are the only signs of life in your house—you're not as alone as you might think. The modern American house is a wilderness: thousands of species of insects, bacteria, fungi, and plants 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 we always want to tame it. Cleaning, bleaching, sterilizing, and killing the organisms in our houses 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 advice about how to graciously welcome these unbidden guests into our homes. This episode originally aired in 2018.Go

Every family has things they don’t talk about: those regrettable beliefs espoused by your great-grandmother, or why your uncles don’t speak to each other anymore. Sometimes these are remnants of the old social order, things that were considered shameful 50 years ago that are perfectly normal today (or the opposite). And sometimes, members of your family just happened to be small-time mobsters. The acclaimed writer Russell Shorto, author of such histories as Amsterdam and The Island at the Center of the World, always knew his grandfather and namesake was involved with the Italian mafia, but Shorto never quite got around to digging up the whole tale until now. He joins us on the podcast to discuss his new memoir, Smalltime: A Story of My Family and the Mob.  Go beyond the episode:Russell Shorto’s Smalltime: A Story of My Family and the MobInspired to dig up your own family dirt? Shorto developed an online course called Tell Your Family StoryItching for a history of the big-time mafia? Check out Thoma

The tiny village of Gapun in Papua New Guinea is home to an equally tiny language called Tayap. No more than a few hundred people have lived in Gapun, so no more than a few hundred people have ever spoken this isolate language, unrelated to any other on the planet. Our guest this episode, the anthropologist Don Kulick, has been visiting the village since 1985, at one point living there for 15 months to document the Gapun way of life, eat a lot of sago palm pudding, and study Tayap—which, even when he arrived more than 30 years ago, was dying. Today, only about 40 people speak it, and Kulick predicts that the language will be “stone cold dead” in less than 50 years. How did that happen? Perhaps more importantly, what cultural and economic losses paved the way? The answer might lie in the backward way we’ve been framing language death. This episode originally aired in 2019.Go beyond the episode:Don Kulick’s A Death in the RainforestKulick returned to Gapun one year—proudly bearing a copy of his new diction

As an artist and activist, Betty Yu has spent her career focusing on the community around her: Sunset Park, Brooklyn, where she was born and raised. Whether, as a member of the Chinatown Arts Brigade, engaging art galleries on their role in gentrification, or projecting tenants’ life stories on the sides of buildings slated for redevelopment, Yu’s work has stressed the connection between art and social change. But what happens when Covid-19 makes interacting with your neighbors life-threatening? Yu, who first began turning the camera on her parents’ family life in 2019, joins us on the podcast to talk about getting even more personal in the pandemic. Go beyond the episodeBetty Yu’s website features a selection of film and videos exploring her family historyIn our Winter 2021 issue, we ran a photograph from (Dis)Placed in Sunset Park, an ongoing multimedia installation about urban gentrification, which includes this short video about Yu's own storyIntimate / Distant, an interactive project documenting sev

Giorgio Vasari has been variously called the father of art history, the inventor of artistic biography, and the author of “the Bible of the Italian Renaissance”—a little book called The Lives of the Artists. It’s a touchstone for scholars looking to get a peek at life in Michelangelo’s day, and quite fun, too, depending on whose wildly embellished life you’re reading. Ingrid Rowland joins us on the podcast to tell the story of the man behind the men of the Renaissance that we know so well—and, of course, to gossip a bit about Florentine egos, and even a few naughty monkeys. Visit the episode page for a slideshow of Vasari’s work.Go beyond the episode:Ingrid Rowland and Noah Charney’s The Collector of Lives: Giorgio Vasari and the Invention of ArtPage through a scanned 1568 copy of The Lives of the Artists on Archive.org (beautiful even if you don’t read Italian)Explore the Palazzo Vecchio, which includes dozens of Vasari’s works, on the Google Art Project

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 episode originally aired in 2018.This is our last episode of the year, and we want to hear from you about what you’d like to hear in 2021! If there are any subjects or guests you would especially like to have 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 f