Latest news with #GreatBooks
Newsweek
19-05-2025
- Politics
- Newsweek
The Tools to Rebuild Our Civil Society Are on Our Book Shelves
"The beginning is the most important part of any work," Plato writes in The Republic, "especially in the case of a young and tender thing; for that is the time at which the character is being formed." What Plato knew—and what we've forgotten—is that a healthy civil society does not begin in politics. It begins in education. And not education in the narrow, technical sense, but education in first principles: freedom, equality, law, justice, reason, and the responsibilities of the citizen. These reflect values and ideals by which we live, but their meaning is not self-evident —they must be discovered and debated, learned and earned, and intentionally taught. And the most enduring forms through which to teach them are the "Great Books," the enduring classics of our intellectual tradition, from the Bible and the Iliad to works by authors ranging from Plato to Augustine, Shakespeare, Montaigne, Nietzsche and beyond. These are the foundational works that have shaped our ideas of truth, justice, beauty, and the self. The Great Books movement viewed direct reading and discussion of such classic texts as foundational to undergraduate education and to an educated citizenry. Core curricula at the University of Chicago and Columbia University have roots in this movement, as does my own institution, St. John's College. This approach is central to the ever expanding K-to-12 Classical Education movement. Socrates (469 - 399 BC) the Greek philosopher drinks hemlock, surrounded by his grieving friends and followers, 399 BC. Socrates (469 - 399 BC) the Greek philosopher drinks hemlock, surrounded by his grieving friends and followers, 399 as with everything today, the Great Books are widely misunderstood, because they are viewed through the lens of political ideology. On the right, they are often treated as cultural property—prized more as artifacts of Western identity than as living texts that challenge us and demand moral seriousness. On the left, they are still too often dismissed as relics of a colonial, misogynistic, or patriarchal past, a curriculum of dead white men irrelevant or antithetical to our struggles for freedom and equality. But the Great Books are neither conservative nor progressive. They are human and belong to all of us. They explore the soul and the state, and they wrestle with power, truth, tyranny and freedom. They contain both the roots of liberal democracy and the seeds of revolution. They challenge the reader to think, not conform. Above all, they provide a language with which to argue about our most fundamental commitments. They are not a museum. They are a mirror. We abandon them at our peril. Abandon them we have. Across the political spectrum, American institutions that once embodied liberal-democratic principles—free expression, civic dialogue, individual dignity—are faltering. Those on right and left alike have allowed tribal loyalty to replace enduring values. On the right, the collapse of principle is breathtaking. Media outlets that once extolled restraint, constitutional fidelity, and the rule of law now amplify conspiracies, attack judicial oversight, and vilify democratic processes. Public figures who built their platforms defending free speech and open discourse fall silent—or worse, become active participants—when those norms are threatened by ideological allies On the left, media and advocacy organizations have become tangled in internal battles over ideological purity. Universities face protest and paralysis. Newsrooms fracture over publishing controversial views. And while some institutions are beginning to course-correct in the face of renewed threats to democracy, early timidity helped entrench the climate of distrust we face. The result? Principle is subordinate to tribe. How, then, do we rebuild a civil society rooted not in identity or grievance, but in shared foundations? We must return to first principles. And we must teach them—intentionally, seriously, and in community. This is what the Great Books make possible. Rousseau wrote that "the citizen's first education is in the principles of the state." Jefferson insisted that liberty could not survive without an educated citizenry. Hannah Arendt argued that education exists to prepare the young for a world they did not choose—and to prepare that world for the new words and deeds by which the young will inevitably reshape that world. But we have grown negligent in this task. Our educational systems train students in technical skills or, a layer deeper, in analysis and argument, but rarely in first principles. Students learn to critique power, but not to understand and justify its proper uses. They are taught to question traditions, but not to distinguish between just and unjust ones. They graduate full of opinions, but without the habits of judgment, patience, and intellectual humility that democracy requires. The result is not just fragility. It is fanaticism. When students are not taught how to think with seriousness and care about justice, freedom, and truth, they will seek substitutes. And when our institutions no longer serve as shared spaces for reasoned disagreement, their authority collapses—often into cynicism or radicalism. If we are serious about rebuilding civil society, we need an education that forms citizens, not just professionals. That values the building of a meaningful life over a financially lucrative one. That welcomes disagreement. That prizes clarity over conformity. That insists on the difference between persuasion and performance and between persuasion and coercion. That teaches students to listen before they speak—and to speak with care, not certainty. That forms hard-won independence of mind, not the cheap validation of groupthink. This is not a luxury. It is a necessity. For all our political reforms and cultural reckonings, none will take root unless we rebuild the moral and intellectual architecture on which they depend. And that means looking not just at our institutions—but at the people who will inherit and shape them. And it also means looking in the mirror. Those on the right must acknowledge that their embrace of grievance politics and tribal loyalty has jeopardized the very constitutional and civic norms they once claimed to defend. Those on the left must recognize that their moralistic zeal and narrowing of intellectual discourse have turned educational and cultural institutions into engines of alienation, not trust. Both have been part of the problem. Both must reform. The Great Books can help with that, too. Because the most important conversations they prompt are not with our adversaries—but with ourselves. A civil society is not a spontaneous achievement. It is something taught and transmitted, practiced and defended—starting with first principles, which are the life blood of Great Books. J. Walter Sterling became the eighth president of St. John's College, Santa Fe in July 2024. He has been a member of the teaching faculty since 2003 and served nine years as dean of the college. The views expressed in this article are the writer's own.
Yahoo
07-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Book Review: David Denby profiles 4 'eminent' Jews who profoundly changed post-WWII American culture
When Lytton Strachey set out to write 'Eminent Victorians' in 1918, he sought to enliven the stuffy Victorian conventions of biographical writing by portraying his subjects with warts and all. In his new book 'Eminent Jews,' David Denby pays tribute to that iconic work by choosing a similar-sounding title. This sly homage simultaneously serves as a kind of callback to Denby's own 1996 bestseller, 'Great Books,' about reading the literary canon of the Western world at Columbia University. But unlike his predecessor, Denby, a staff writer at the New Yorker and former film critic there and at New York magazine, seeks to celebrate, not denigrate, his subjects. And what a celebration it is! For his project Denby chose four of the most brilliant and consequential American Jews in the arts and letters after the Second World War — Mel Brooks, Betty Friedan, Norman Mailer and Leonard Bernstein — and analyzed their monumental, zeitgeist-changing achievements from the intimate perspective of a younger American Jew who came of age in a world that they in large part created. Readers might reasonably ask why these four and not so many others whose lives burned brightly in the second half of the 20th century? Denby states his reasons clearly: Brooks transformed popular comedy, turning it into 'a celebration of the body and an assault on death.' Friedan kicked off second-wave feminism, teaching women 'to dismiss humiliation (and) confront anger.' Mailer created new forms of American prose and virtually invented 'the bad Jewish boy.' And Bernstein wrote Broadway shows, popularized classical music and became one of the great conductors of the 20th century. Though his overall tone is triumphal, Denby does not shy away from portraying their dark sides: Brooks' need to dominate any room of writers; Bernstein's sexual dalliances and later in life, his crude public behavior; Mailer's promiscuity and the stabbing of his second wife; and Frieden's mutually abusive marriage and difficulty sharing the spotlight with other feminist leaders. At times, though, the book drags. Denby has clearly done so much research and is so besotted with his subjects that he is loath to leave anything out — though it is not hard to see why. One anecdote is juicier than the next, the literary equivalent of those lavish spreads at the Jewish resorts in the Catskills of yore where Brooks got his start and whose menus Denby lovingly recalls: chilled schav (sorrel soup) with sliced egg, boiled yearling fowl in a pot, and Vienna almond crescent. ___ AP book reviews: Ann Levin, The Associated Press
Associated Press
07-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Associated Press
Book Review: David Denby profiles 4 ‘eminent' Jews who profoundly changed post-WWII American culture
When Lytton Strachey set out to write 'Eminent Victorians' in 1918, he sought to enliven the stuffy Victorian conventions of biographical writing by portraying his subjects with warts and all. In his new book 'Eminent Jews,' David Denby pays tribute to that iconic work by choosing a similar-sounding title. This sly homage simultaneously serves as a kind of callback to Denby's own 1996 bestseller, 'Great Books,' about reading the literary canon of the Western world at Columbia University. But unlike his predecessor, Denby, a staff writer at the New Yorker and former film critic there and at New York magazine, seeks to celebrate, not denigrate, his subjects. And what a celebration it is! For his project Denby chose four of the most brilliant and consequential American Jews in the arts and letters after the Second World War — Mel Brooks, Betty Friedan, Norman Mailer and Leonard Bernstein — and analyzed their monumental, zeitgeist-changing achievements from the intimate perspective of a younger American Jew who came of age in a world that they in large part created. Readers might reasonably ask why these four and not so many others whose lives burned brightly in the second half of the 20th century? Denby states his reasons clearly: Brooks transformed popular comedy, turning it into 'a celebration of the body and an assault on death.' Friedan kicked off second-wave feminism, teaching women 'to dismiss humiliation (and) confront anger.' Mailer created new forms of American prose and virtually invented 'the bad Jewish boy.' And Bernstein wrote Broadway shows, popularized classical music and became one of the great conductors of the 20th century. Though his overall tone is triumphal, Denby does not shy away from portraying their dark sides: Brooks' need to dominate any room of writers; Bernstein's sexual dalliances and later in life, his crude public behavior; Mailer's promiscuity and the stabbing of his second wife; and Frieden's mutually abusive marriage and difficulty sharing the spotlight with other feminist leaders. At times, though, the book drags. Denby has clearly done so much research and is so besotted with his subjects that he is loath to leave anything out — though it is not hard to see why. One anecdote is juicier than the next, the literary equivalent of those lavish spreads at the Jewish resorts in the Catskills of yore where Brooks got his start and whose menus Denby lovingly recalls: chilled schav (sorrel soup) with sliced egg, boiled yearling fowl in a pot, and Vienna almond crescent.
Chicago Tribune
12-02-2025
- General
- Chicago Tribune
Sarah Meisels, who oversaw growth of Wheaton Public Library, dies at 88
Sarah Meisels was director of the Wheaton Public Library for 35 years, overseeing several expansions and renovations as the western suburb grew. 'She dedicated herself to the Wheaton Public Library and the patrons who use it, and (she) always wanted it to be the best for Wheaton residents,' said Dawn Kovacs, the library's deputy director. Meisels, 88, died of heart failure Feb. 1 at her home at the Bickford of St. Charles assisted living and memory care facility in St. Charles, said her niece, Alexandra Adams. She was a longtime Wheaton resident. Born Sarah Greaves in Elmhurst, Meisels graduated from York High School and studied at Swarthmore College in Pennsylvania before transferring to the University of Minnesota, where she earned a bachelor's degree. Meisels attended Chicago-Kent College of Law and taught at Moser Secretarial School in the Loop before getting a master's degree in library science from Rosary College, which is now Dominican University. In 1966 Meisels joined the staff of the Wheaton Public Library, just a year after the library opened its building on North Cross Street in Wheaton. The building was renovated in 1973 and expanded in 1978. Originally a reference librarian, Meisels was promoted in 1978 to director of the library, succeeding Marjorie Lincoln. Colleagues recalled that Meisels took over in the midst of an expansion and renovation project, and she oversaw its successful completion. While Meisels spent plenty of her time managing the library's finances and facilities, she was a bibliophile at heart who greatly enjoyed leading Great Books discussions and having less formal literary chats with the library's patrons, colleagues said. 'I don't think she ever used a computer, but she knew that we had to computerize, and she was all for it,' recalled Carolyn DeAre, the library's retired deputy director and reference librarian. 'She always wanted to get the latest that was available — even though she might never use it, she knew that's what a library had to do.' Kovacs also recalled Meisels' strong support for computerizing the library's collections in the late 1980s. 'As new technology came around to libraries, like CD-ROMs, databases and the internet, I asked if we could do that, (and) Sarah never said no and found the money to pay for it,' Kovacs said. 'We expanded to teaching patrons how to use library technology like CD-ROM and database searching, and then how to use technology in general, like email, web searching and eBook readers, which required additional staff that Sarah hired. She loved the old — Great Books, opera, ancient history — but she wasn't afraid of the new.' Meisels also championed and oversaw the library's biggest expansion, a 2007 addition and renovation that added computer workstations, a mural in the library's Children's Story House and a new west entrance linking the library's campus with nearby Adams Park. To do so required closing North Cross Street, a move that was controversial at the time. 'She was the one who fought to have Cross Street closed so that the library could adjoin the park, which I think was a wonderful idea,' DeAre said. 'She could see us having programs out there (in the plaza), and we didn't realize how sunny it would be out there.' To help build community support for the 2007 addition and renovation, Meisels helped launch the current Friends of Wheaton Public Library group, which was instrumental in getting Wheaton's City Council to approve that project, DeAre said. Looking back, Meisels said she took pride in the 2007 project. 'I loved it. A lot of people don't care for that sort of thing, with the disruption and everything. But I think that was the culmination of my career,' Meisels told the Tribune in 2013. 'Architects can make it look pretty but you've got to know how libraries work. It takes a librarian to plan a building.' Meisels also steered the library through strained municipal budgets during the global financial crisis, which led to a 16% reduction in tax revenue. Employees took pay cuts, and the library's board to decide to close the library on Fridays. 'Nobody liked it. You never like to restrict service to your public because that's why you exist,' she told the Tribune in 2013. 'It was a difficult decision. I know the board had a hard time with it.' Meisels retired at 76 in 2013. Upon her retirement, she reflected on the future of libraries. 'Books aren't going to go away,' she said. 'Things just evolve but a lot of things sort of stay the same because people are the same. You just do it with a different twist.' A first marriage to Frank Kille ended in divorce. Meisels' second husband, Henry, died in 2001. She also is survived by a sister, Margaret Adams. A visitation will take place at 10 a.m. Saturday, Feb. 22, at Pedersen Ryberg Funeral Home, 435 N. York St., Elmhurst. A memorial service will follow at 11 a.m.
