Fragments for a History of a Vanishing Humanism brings together scholars working in prehistoric, classical, medieval, and early modern studies who are developing, from longer and slower historical perspectives, critical post/humanisms that explore: 1) the significance (historical, sociocultural, psychic, etc.) of human expression and affectivity; 2) the impact of technology and new sciences on what it means to be a human self; 3) the importance of art and literature in defining and enacting human selves; 4) the importance of history in defining the human; 5) the artistic plasticity of the human; 6) the question of a human collectivity--what is the value, and peril, of "being human" or "being post/human" together?; and finally, 7) the constructive, and destructive, relations (aesthetic, historical, and philosophical) of the human to the nonhuman. This volume, edited by Myra Seaman and Eileen A. Joy, insists on the always provisional and contingent formations of the human, and of various humanisms, over time, while also aiming to demonstrate the different ways these formations emerge (and also disappear) in different times and places, from the most ancient past to the most contemporary present. The essays are offered as "fragments" because the authors do not believe there can ever be a "total history" of either the human or the post/human as they play themselves out in differing historical contexts. At the same time, the volume as a whole argues that defining what "the human" (or "post/human") is has always been an ongoing, never finished cultural project.

Picture your 21st birthday. Did you have a party? If so, do you remember who was there? How clear are these memories? Should we trust them? Such questions have fascinated scientists for hundreds of years, and, as Alison Winter shows in this book, the answers have changed dramatically in just the past century.

"The first approach can be called vertical since what is explored here is the human body's relationship to the divine, to the bestial and to the machines that imitate or simulate it. The second approach covers the various junctures between the body's "outside" and "inside": it can therefore be called a "psychosomatic" approach, studying the manifestation - or production - of soul and the expression of emotions through the body's attitudes, and, on another level, the speculations inspired by cenesthesia, pain and death. Finally, the third approach ... brings into play the classical opposition between organ and function by showing how a certain organ or bodily substance can be used to justify or challenge the way human society functions ..." - foreword Part 3.

With over one million books sold in her career, Joyce Rupp presents her newest undertaking: a unique collection of daily meditations that draw from Christian, Jewish, Muslim, Hindu, and other sources, offering wisdom and insight about the God who is beyond all names. Bestselling author Joyce Rupp once again proves herself a wise and gentle spiritual midwife, drawing forth 365 names of God from the world’s spiritual treasury. Fragments of Your Ancient Name—whose title comes from a poem by German mystic Rainer Maria Rilke—assembles a remarkable collection of reflections for each day of the year. This unique and profound devotional will heighten awareness of the many names by which God is known around the world. Whether drawing from the Psalms, Sufi saints, Hindu poets, Native American rituals, contemporary writers, or the Christian gospels, Rupp stirs the imagination and the heart to discover a new dimension of God. Each name is explored in a ten-line poetic meditation and is complemented by a simple sentence that serves as a reminder of the name of God throughout the day.

Fragments of Trauma and the Social Production of Suffering: Trauma, History, and Memory offers a kaleidoscope of perspectives that highlight the problem of traumatic memory. Because trauma fragments memory, storytelling is impeded by what is unknowable and what is unspeakable. Each of the contributors tackles the problem of narrativizing memory that is constructed from fragments that have been passed along the generations. When trauma is cultural as well as personal, it becomes even more invisible, as each generation’s attempts at coping push the pain further below the surface. Consequently, that pain becomes increasingly ineffable, haunting succeeding generations. In each story the contributors offer, there emerges the theme of difference, a difference that turns back on itself and makes an accusation. Themes of knowing and unknowing show the terrible toll that trauma takes when there is no one with whom the trauma can be acknowledged and worked through. In the face of utter lack of recognition, what might be known together becomes hidden. Our failure to speak to these unaspirated truths becomes a betrayal of self and also of others. In the case of intergenerational and cultural trauma, we betray not only our ancestors but also the future generations to come. In the face of unacknowledged trauma, this book reveals that we are confronted with the perennial choice of speaking or becoming complicit in our silence.