Probably of interest only in the faculty lounge.
An academic’s take on academic writing.
Harvard English professor Garber (Dog Love, 1996, etc.) has written a lot, but here she turns her attention to a subject she deals with on a daily basis: the state of scholarship in the humanities. Unfortunately, that proximity does not make for exciting reading. In her other works, the author is intriguing, even titillating, but only diehard graduate students will be interested in these three essays (Garber calls them chapters, but they basically stand alone). The first explores the shifting border between the “amateur” and the “professional,” hopping from the Olympics to the struggle between public intellectuals and institutionally affiliated academics. The second looks at competition among the various disciplines within the academy. The last delves into the recriminations that have recently proliferated over the use of academic jargon. While Garber’s writing is typically punchy and entertaining, it cannot make up for the fact that in the first two essays she has very little of interest to say. Paragraphs here and there are clever, and the intelligence behind the arguments is unmistakable, but true insights are few and far between. Moreover, articles from the New York Times are referenced so frequently that one gets the disheartening feeling that Garber was writing over her morning coffee. The third piece (“Terms of Art”) is significantly better. Garber points out that academic neologisms and other difficult terms provoke arguments that keep language fresh, while supposedly “clear” language can be deadening. Her riffs on the novelist George Orwell and the theorist Theodor Adorno not only support her argument but also inspire on their own. One still wonders, however, whether “Terms of Art” has enough heft to support the volume. It would have made an excellent article.
Probably of interest only in the faculty lounge.Pub Date: Feb. 5, 2001
ISBN: 0-691-04970-X
Page Count: 179
Publisher: Princeton Univ.
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Dec. 1, 2000
A real-life Frank Capra tale, just as corny, sentimental and inspiring as It's a Wonderful Life.
Hokey but charming memoir, reminiscent of an afternoon spent flipping through the pages of an antique photo album.
Although an autobiography, Coleman chronicles his life in the third person with a dispassion and modesty remarkable for a novice writer. It is perhaps the era that speaks through his prose—not a child of the "Me Decade," Coleman reminds us that the past was, indeed, more difficult than the present. And people certainly tended to whine a good deal less back then. The account begins chronologically, with his birth in 1902 to pioneer parents, their eighth child. By the time he was nine, the family had moved to their own homestead in Myrtle Creek, Ore. That summer he contracted polio and lost the use of his legs. Overcoming his crippled condition occupied a good portion of his youth, admirably marked by self-reliance and invention. He whittled his own crutches, made violins and, at 19, attempting to find a trade that would accommodate his physical condition, paid a jeweler $25 per month in order to serve as an apprentice to the watchmaker. As a young man in the '20s, he married and became a father, then established himself as sole proprietor of a jewelry store. The narrative is interspersed with photographs, newspaper clippings, Coleman's poems (an unfortunate weakness), musical scores (also not very solid), jewelry designs and the Coleman family tree. At a glance, Coleman’s history, aside from his disability, is not unusual. He becomes one of the leading merchants of a small town, state archery champion, and president of the Lion's Club. His would seem to be the unremarkable chronicle of a small-town success of interest to no one outside his family. Even so, it's his banality that is oddly compelling. Following the ups and downs of the Coleman jewelry store through the Depression, World War II, and the post-war era up until Coleman's death in 1972, is an enjoyable journey through the low-key strength and integrity that sustains middle-American lives. Coleman's son, John Coleman, today runs Coleman's Jewelers, the jewelry store founded by the author, in Corvallis, Ore. (Proceeds from the sale of this book, which has an endorsement from former senator Bob Dole, will go to Rotary International's "effort to eradicate polio" and to the Austin Family Business Program at Oregon State University.)
A real-life Frank Capra tale, just as corny, sentimental and inspiring as It's a Wonderful Life.Pub Date: N/A
ISBN: 0-9754140-0-3
Page Count: -
Publisher: N/A
Review Posted Online: April 17, 2011
Review Program: Kirkus Indie
Meet Norma Hazelton, connoisseur and collector of swizzle sticks. If you're not impressed by a plastic Jackie Gleason long since separated from its maraschino cherry, take a look at Robert Cade, inventor of Gatorade and a collector of Studebakers (re the carmaker's Dictator line of the 1930s, he says: ``Dictator was a good name until Hitler and Mussolini and Stalin. They dropped the Dictator line in 1937 because of them''). Among the 20 collections that Tuchman and photographer Brenner cast their eyes on are caches of Civil War memorabilia (a banjo, a musket, a toothbrush); aquarium furniture (a lot of mermaids); and representations of the Last Supper (a clock, a saltshaker, a funeral-home fan). Tuchman's text, mostly a pastiche of comments from the collectors themselves, is informative—and just glib enough to keep the whole book from feeling like a spooky visit to your mad Aunt Mabel's attic.
Pub Date: Sept. 1, 1994
ISBN: 0-8118-0360-0
Page Count: 144
Publisher: Chronicle Books
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: July 15, 1994
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