“Frost was the first American who could be honestly reckoned a master-poet by world standards.”—Robert Graves Robert Frost’s poetry has triumphantly survived him, but most readers today have not known him in one of his most significant capacities—as teacher and lecturer. Here, collected for the first time, are excerpts from forty-six of his presentations delivered to students at more than thirty academic institutions over three decades. Frost’s topics include: “What I think I’m doing when I write a poem,” “Getting up things to say for yourself,” “The future of the world,” “Fall in love at sight,” and “Not freedom from, but freedom of.” Gathered by Edward Connery Lathem, editor of The Poetry of Robert Frost, and introduced by Pulitzer Prize–winning journalist David M. Shribman, Robert Frost: Speaking on Campus reveals Frost in the setting of both classroom and lecture hall, where he inspired thousands.

Offering insight into the poet's lesser-known contributions as a teacher and lecturer, a collection of excerpts from forty-six of his presentations includes such topics as "What I think I'm doing when I write a poem" and "The future of the world."

Forty essays from influential scholars and poets offer a fresh, multifaceted assessment of the life and works of Robert Frost.

The fevered controversy over America's educational future isn't simply academic; those who have proposed sweeping reforms include government officials, politicians, foundation officers, think-tank researchers, journalists, media pundits, and university administrators. Drowned out in that noisy debate are the voices of those who actually teach the liberal arts exclusively to undergraduates in our nation's small liberal arts colleges, or SLACs. The Best Kind of College attempts to rectify that glaring oversight. As an insiders' "guide" to the liberal arts in its truest form the volume brings together thirty award-winning professors from across the country to convey in various ways some of the virtues, the electricity, and, overall, the importance of the small-seminar, face-to-face approach to education, as typically featured in SLACs. Before we in the United States abandon or compromise our commitment to the liberal arts—oddly enough, precisely at a time when our global competitors are discovering, emulating, and founding American-style SLACs and new liberal arts programs—we need a wake-up call, namely to the fact that the nation's SLACs provide a time-tested model of educational integrity and success.

A revaluation of Frost’s major lyrics, Robert Frost’s Visionary Gift: Mining and Minding the Wonder of Unexpected Supply makes a case for Frost as America’s preeminent philosophical poet. William F. Zak provides groundbreaking analysis to well over one hundred of Frost’s lyrics.

Pensive, mercurial, and often funny, the private Robert Frost remains less appreciated than the public poet. The Letters of Robert Frost, the first major edition of the correspondence of this complex and subtle verbal artist, includes hundreds of unpublished letters whose literary interest is on a par with Dickinson, Lowell, and Beckett.

"Through archival work and storytelling synthesis, Music Migration and Imperial New York revises, subverts, and supplements many inherited narratives about experimental music and arts in postwar New York into a sweeping new whole. From the urban street-level via music clubs and arts institutions to the world-making routes of global migration and exchange, this book seeks to redraw the geographies of experimental art and so to reveal the imperial dynamics, as well as profoundly racialized and gendered power relations, that shaped and continue to shape the discourses and practices of modern music in the United States. Beginning with the material conditions of power that structured the cityscape of New York in the early Cold War years (ca. 1957 to 1963), Brigid Cohen's book encompasses a considerably wider range of people and practices than is usual in studies of the music of this period. It looks at a range of artistic practices (concert music, electronic music, jazz, performance art) and actors (Varèse, Mingus, Yoko Ono, and Fluxus founder George Maciunas) as they experimented with new modes of creativity"--

Robert Frost observed in his wife, Elinor, a desire to live "a life that goes rather poetically." The same could be said of many members of the Frost family, over several generations. In You Come Too, Frost’s granddaughter, Lesley Lee Francis, combines priceless personal memories and rigorous research to create a portrait of Frost and the women, including herself, whose lives he touched. Francis provides a vivid picture of Frost the family man, revealing him to be intensely engaged rather than the aloof artist that is commonly portrayed. She shares with us the devastation Frost and Elinor experienced when faced with tragic illnesses, both physical and mental, and the untimely death of family members. Elinor’s own death added to the poet’s despair and unleashed complex feelings throughout the family. (Francis’s mother would lament the toll taken on Elinor by what she perceived as Frost’s "selfishness" in the life he had chosen.) This is also the story of Lesley Frost, Francis’s remarkable mother, who struggled to emerge from her celebrated father’s shadow, while, as one of the people closest to him, sharing his intuitive impulse to write and to indulge their mutual love of books and poetry. Francis would herself become yet another writer and, like her grandfather and mother before her, a teacher--despite sharing Frost’s sense of being "imperfectly academic." In addition, Francis explores Frost’s professional relationships with women outside the family, such as the poets Harriet Monroe, Amy Lowell, and Susan Hayes Ward. Francis’s invaluable insights into Frost’s poetry and her inclusion of previously unpublished family writings and photographs make this book essential to Frost scholarship. But You Come Too will appeal to anyone interested in this great poet’s life and work. It also reveals unforgettable stories of strong, independent women and their passion to create and share poetry.

This book explores the norms we have and where we want to go with them. The project began by asking people what they think is the central value in society today. The responses point to notions of what seems “right” to people. We can move forward with these intuitions about the main tenet of our moral lives. Respondents named values regarding freedom of the Self, and concern for the Other. Indeed with freedom, we can respect others. And we must. People’s lives are intertwined, and so freedom as a concept cannot be understood without taking account of this reality. The author suggests that the value to be taken as central is the moral freedom of respect. It ought to guide us in designing the society we want to build. The law can be a bridge towards that normative world. Jewish ethics may illuminate the path.

Bodies on the Line offers the first sustained study of the poetry reading in its most formative period: the 1960s. Raphael Allison closely examines a vast archive of audio recordings of several key postwar American poets to explore the social and literary context of the sixties poetry reading, which is characterized by contrasting differing styles of performance: the humanist style and the skeptical strain. The humanist style, made mainstream by the Beats and their imitators, is characterized by faith in the power of presence, emotional communion, and affect. The skeptical strain emphasizes openness of interpretation and multivalent meaning, a lack of stability or consistency, and ironic detachment. By comparing these two dominant styles of reading, Allison argues that attention to sixties poetry readings reveals poets struggling between the kind of immediacy and presence that readings suggested and a private retreat from such performance-based publicity, one centered on the text itself. Recordings of Robert Frost, Charles Olson, Gwendolyn Brooks, Larry Eigner, and William Carlos Williams—all of whom emphasized voice, breath, and spoken language and who were inveterate professional readers in the sixties—expose this struggle in often surprising ways. In deconstructing assertions about the role and importance of the poetry reading during this period, Allison reveals just how dramatic, political, and contentious poetry readings could be. By discussing how to "hear" as well as "read" poetry, Bodies on the Line offers startling new vantage points from which to understand American poetry since the 1960s as both performance and text.