Specialized materials.

Hall, Donald E.

We are engaged currently in an important discussion in literature and cultural studies departments about publication requirements for tenure and promotion. What constitutes significant and sufficient research, and how should our guidelines change to recognize the wide variety of writing that we do, or might do, as busy and engaged professionals? Certainly traditional monographs and scholarly articles remain impressive vita items when one makes a case for professional advancement. However, I would argue that there are other forms of professional writing that can have a profound impact on readers and demonstrate thorough scholarship, and that should be valued highly by tenure and promotion committees. I am very favorably impressed with the volumes that have appeared in the past four years in the "Routledge Critical Thinkers" series. These are important scholarly works written by an impressive list of British literary and cultural critics. We in the United States should not only read these volumes and recommend them heartily to our students, but we should also think about how our professional practices and standards can be adjusted to encourage and value similar writing by our own colleagues.

The series was inaugurated in 1999 by Robert Eaglestone of the University of London, whose editor's preface states that the "books in this series offer introductions to major critical thinkers who have influenced literary studies and the humanities." There are now fourteen volumes in print and more forthcoming, all examining well-known theorists of the past century or so. Written primarily for graduate students and advanced undergraduates, these clearly expressed and well-designed volumes have, however, an even wider potential impact than the university classroom would offer. The books in the "Routledge Critical Thinkers" series make a compelling case even to well-educated general readers for the importance of concerted intellectual engagement with questions such as "why do we believe what we believe?" and "why do we do what we do?" I was pleased to see them recently on the shelves of my local Borders, and Barnes and Noble, bookstores. Eaglestone ends his preface by addressing and challenging his readers: "This series hopes to begin to engage you in an activity which is productive, constructive and potentially life-changing." I have read now all volumes published to date in the series, and I believe he has the right to feel quite optimistic in that regard. They are generally works of extraordinary quality and wide significance.

I will begin my brief overview here of the most memorable volumes in the series with the first one published: Edward Said, by Bill Ashcroft and Pal Ahluwalia, from 1999. Following the format of the series, the book opens with an introduction that asks and answers the question "Why Said?," then offers several body chapters organized around "Key Ideas," and concludes with a brief discussion of "After Said." Ashcroft and Ahluwalia examine carefully Said's central role in establishing the field of post-colonial studies, interweaving synopses of Said's most important critical interventions with their own meta-commentary on how Said demonstrated the potential for effective political activism by a member of the academic elite. As with many of the other successful series entries on recent critics, they make a strong case for the exemplary nature of this theorist's life and work, as well as the usefulness of the theories being summarized. This is a book that challenges its readers to engage with the world beyond the print text. Students will come away from it well informed; seasoned scholars will be energized.

Less immediately energizing, though still quite useful, is Pamela Thurschwell's Sigmund Freud from 2000. Thurschwell examines the thorough saturation of our culture by Freudian concepts and makes a strong case for the continuing utility of psychoanalytic analysis in contemporary cultural criticism. In doing so, she dispels misconceptions about Freud's work (that he is "sex-obsessed," for example [p. 2]), but does not shy away from the serious critique of Freudian paradigms offered by feminists and Lacanians, among others. Her section "After Freud" is the longest, by my estimate, of any similar section in the series. In her coverage of film theory and other supple uses of Freud in recent years, she answers those who might still be asking "Why Freud?" even at the book's end. While seasoned scholars may discover little here to excite them, students will find this book to be a reliable and concise guide to an undeniably "critical" thinker.

Some of my most positive reactions were to those books in the series that nudged me to reevaluate theorists whom I had encountered early in my career as a scholar but had found to be of limited use for my own critical purposes at that time. Martin McQuillan's Paul de Man from 2001 is one such book. Broadly speaking, it offers one of the most user-friendly and well-written introductions to deconstruction that I have ever read, and I will recommend it enthusiastically to students for that reason. But even more importantly, it makes a particularly compelling case for the continuing relevance of de Man's aesthetic theory and his responses to Kant and Hegel. Furthermore, it covers in fascinating detail the questions raised by de Man's affiliation with a pro-Nazi publication in Belgium in the early 1940s. McQuillan both reproduces in its entirety and then critiques carefully de Man's "The Jews in Contemporary Literature" from 1941. Whatever one's relationship with deconstructive theory, McQuillan offers here a gripping narrative and compelling example of applied cultural criticism of the text of a theorist's career. This is a superb little book.

Equally fascinating, and for some of the same reasons, is Timothy Clark's Martin Heidegger from 2002. Clark, like McQuillan, takes some of the most difficult literary theory and philosophy in use today and makes it accessible to an intelligent readership. But even more impressive is that both writers construct compelling narratives of lives and careers in turmoil. In his seventh chapter, "Nazism, Poetry and the Political," Clark confronts directly the implications of Heidegger's fascist affiliations in the early 1930s while serving as Rector of Freiburg University. While never simply condemning Heidegger or dismissing his extraordinarily dynamic contributions to twentieth-century philosophy, Clark also finds in Heidegger generally too quick a "dismissal of the importance of individual political and economic rights" (p. 123). Yet in the same discussion, Clark points out the rich implications of Heidegger's critique of modern society for the environmentalist movement and for a generation of philosophers and critics, including Hans-Georg Gadamer, Paul Ricoeur, Maurice Blanchot, and Jacques Derrida. Clark's book is one of balance and insight.

I enjoyed reading many of these books because they are wonderful refresher courses on theorists whom I know well but about whom I can still learn much by seeing them again through the eyes of a smart commentator. Such is the case with Claire Colebrook's superb Gilles Deleuze from 2002. I have a deep affinity for Deleuzian theory, but that degree of acquaintance did not hamper at all my thorough enjoyment of this book. Colebrook neither over- nor under-states the importance of Deleuze and Guattari's challenges to received Freudian models and standard notions of subjectivity. Throughout, she looks to Deleuze not only for interesting cultural criticism but also for a model for our own critical engagements and inventions, urging us to ask "What stops us from creating new values, new desires, or new images of what it is to be and think?" (p. 5). And in exemplary fashion, she uses Deleuzian theory imaginatively to construct her own original readings of texts, examining poetry by Dickinson, the drama of Pinter, the film Traffic by Steven Soderbergh, and the fiction of Joyce and Austen. From beginning to end, this book is a model for others in the series. It is brief and clear but still wonderfully speculative and engaging.

Quite impressive also is Sarah Salih's Judith Butler from 2002. I have been eagerly awaiting a solid overview of Butler's theories of performance and gender identity that I can recommend to undergraduates and new graduate students for help when they are reading Butler for the first time. Salih is particularly good at placing Butler into a context of differing theories of subjectivity, covering successfully a dense philosophical debate, with ample references to Freud, Foucault, Derrida, Hegel, and Lacan. My one disappointment was that Salih does not really provide an extended introduction to "queer theory"; this book is not always attentive enough to the political context of lesbian and gay activism that produced and was greatly enriched by Butler's work. Nevertheless, this is an impressive first overview of one of the most important theorists of our day. It offers occasional but useful applications of Butlerian theory, and it includes a comprehensive bibliography of works by and about Butler. I have no reservations about recommending this book to students, even if it did not add appreciably to my own perspective on its subject.

Another book that I will wholeheartedly recommend to the same readership is Stephen Morton's fine Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak from 2003. As with many of the other standout entries in the series, this one does not shy away from asking hard questions about its subject, here confronting directly the turgidity and density of Spivak's language, which seems to run counter to her work for and with the oppressed and illiterate. Morton explores the complex intellectual context of Spivak's interventions on subjectivity and language, and of course probes thoroughly her debt to Derrida. He does so in clear and inviting language, neither speaking down to nor forgetting the needs of his student audience. Like the aforementioned entry on Said, this one is also a superb introduction to post-colonial theory, its major figures and its skeptics. For my own reading needs, I would have liked more original use of Spivak's theories, but for students needing concise summaries of some of the most difficult theory in use today, this book succeeds admirably.

The final book that I want to mention as noteworthy in the series is the latest one to be published, Sara Mills's Michel Foucault, which actually arrived after I began writing this review. For the seasoned Foucauldian, there is not much new here; numerous books are already in print that more aggressively respond to Foucault's theories of power, discourse, socio-medical classification, and disciplinary regulation. But for the novice, this book certainly provides a very readable (and admirably succinct) overview of Foucauldian theory and its respondents. Mills examines carefully the arguments of detractors who find Foucault politically enervating or murky, arguing successfully that Foucault revolutionized our understanding of how power circulates and how we internalize conventions. And in particular, I find her last chapter, "After Foucault," praiseworthy, for it offers direct advice to students on how to use Foucauldian theory. As with the entry on Spivak, I would have appreciated even more original applications, but my particular needs were not paramount in the mind of the book's writer. This is a primer on Foucault that I can recommend as reliable, up to date, and clear.

Given those many series successes, I want to mention briefly here a couple of entries about which I have a few reservations. Ullrich Haase and William Large's Maurice Blanchot from 2001 opens with the startlingly inflated claim that "the French writer and theorist Maurice Blanchot is one of the most important figures of the twentieth century" and continues "What has come to be known as post-structuralism . . . is completely unthinkable without him" (p. 1). I realize that these books are intended to make cases for their subjects as essential "critical thinkers," but as their analysis continues, Haase and Large consistently come across as devotees rather than thoughtful commentators. Theirs is not a balanced discussion.

A book about which I have different reservations is Nicholas Royle's Jacques Derrida from 2003. As I mention above, the best series entries take dense and often daunting theory and make it compelling, less threatening, and, above all else, useful; the books on de Man, Heidegger, and Spivak are standouts in that regard. That is not the case here. Royle's volume on Derrida is so playful and indirect that students will probably leave it feeling utterly confused about how to use Derridean theory on their own (except, perhaps, learning to indulge in puns). Derrida himself endorses the book on its cover as "Excellent, strong, clear and original." I, on the other hand, found it impractical and not at all recommendable to students needing a succinct and user-friendly introduction to deconstruction. Seasoned critics may enjoy reading this book as a playful application of, and even embodiment of, Derridean theory, but if I assign it to my students before demanding a post-structuralist inspired essay or project, I have only myself to blame for what I receive in return.

The four other volumes in the series, not yet mentioned, cover the theories of Jean Baudrillard, Paul Ricoeur, Fredric Jameson, and Jean-Francois Lyotard. All are clearly written and useful for student readers. A volume on Nietzsche will be published in the coming months. Eaglestone has done a marvelous job at editing a series that is enjoyable for senior professors to read as quick refreshers and highly practical for students to turn to when confused by or simply excited about a new theory. And I would argue, finally, that these books do very important work; they represent original, even if synthetic, research and thinking. As I mention above, they are being marketed widely across the US, as well as the UK; it is telling, however, that no American scholars have contributed to it (nor is there a counterpart to it among American academic presses). The reason for this may be that, unlike our British counterparts, we in the US academy do not yet value appropriately this type of writing. These books will change some students' lives; they will be read and referenced widely. That impact is significant and is as worthy of recognition as that of a traditional monograph or refereed article. Ideally, publication in this form will be only one part of a diverse scholarly profile, but I believe that we should recognize it as something to be expressly commended and rewarded, for it is a form of pedagogical work that reaches beyond the twelve-person seminar or one-hundred-station lecture hall. It is diffusive but potentially very dynamic.

DONALD E. HALL is Professor of English at California State University, Northridge. His most recent book is The Academic Self: An Owner's Manual, published by Ohio State University Press. He will be editing a redesigned Victorian studies series at that press under the new general title "Victorian Critical Interventions.