From German idealism onward, Western thinkers have sought to revalue tragedy, invariably converging at one cardinal point: tragic art risks aestheticizing real violence. Tragically Speaking critically examines this revaluation, offering a new understanding of the changing meaning of tragedy in literary and moral discourse. It questions common assumptions about the Greeks’ philosophical relation to the tragic tradition and about the ethical and political ramifications of contemporary theories of tragedy. Starting with the poet Friedrich Hölderlin and continuing to the present, Kalliopi Nikolopoulou traces how tragedy was translated into an idea (“the tragic”) that was then revised further into the “beyond the tragic” of postmetaphysical contemporary thought. While recognizing some of the merits of this revaluation, Tragically Speaking concentrates on the losses implicit in such a turn. It argues that by translating tragedy into an idea, these rereadings effected a problematic subordination of politics to ethics: the drama of human conflict gave way to philosophical reflection, bracketing the world in favor of the idea of the world. Where contemporary thought valorizes absence, passivity, the Other, rhetoric, writing, and textuality, the author argues that their “deconstructed opposites” (presence, will, the self, truth, speech, and action, all of which are central to tragedy) are equally necessary for any meaningful discussion of ethics and politics.

A biography of a young African-American man who escaped the slums of Newark for Yale University only to succumb to the dangers of the streets when he returned home.

This classic work not only records developments in the form and style of Greek drama, it also analyses the reasons for these changes. It provides illuminating answers to questions that have confronted generations of students, such as: * why did Aeschylus introduce the second actor? * why did Sophocles develop character drawing? * why are some of Euripides' plots so bad and others so good? Greek Tragedy is neither a history nor a handbook, but a penetrating work of criticism which all students of literature will find suggestive and stimulating.

Reframes philosophical understanding of, and engagement with, tragedy. In The Tragedy of Philosophy Andrew Cooper challenges the prevailing idea of the death of tragedy, arguing that this assumption reflects a problematic view of both tragedy and philosophy—one that stifles the profound contribution that tragedy could provide to philosophy today. To build this case, Cooper presents a novel reading of Immanuel Kant’s Critique of Judgment. Although this text is normally understood as the final attempt to seal philosophy from the threat of tragedy, Cooper argues that Kant’s project is rather a creative engagement with a tragedy that is specific to philosophy, namely, the inevitable failure of attempts to master nature through knowledge. Kant’s encounter with the tragedy of philosophy turns philosophy’s gaze from an exclusive focus on knowledge to matters of living well in a world that does not bend itself to our desires. Tracing the impact of Kant’s Critique of Judgment on some of the most famous theories of tragedy, including those of G. W. F. Hegel, Friedrich Nietzsche, Martin Heidegger, and Cornelius Castoriadis, Cooper demonstrates how these philosophers extend the project found in both Kant and the Greek tragedies: the attempt to grasp nature as a domain hospitable to human life.

This book features the second selection of the most representative papers presented at the international conference “Dying and Death in 18th–21st Century Europe” (ABDD), a traditional scientific event organized every year in Alba Iulia, Romania. The book invites the reader on a fascinating journey across the last three centuries of Europe, using the concept of death as a guide. The past and present realities of the complex phenomena of death and dying in Romania, the United Kingdom, Lithuania, Serbia, Macedonia, Poland, USA, Germany, Sweden, Finland, and Italy are dealt with by authors from varying backgrounds, including historians, sociologists, psychologists, priests, humanists, anthropologists, and doctors. This is proof that death as a topic cannot be confined to one science; the deciphering of its meanings and of the shifts it effects requires a joint, interdisciplinary effort.

Essays in this volume seek to clarify the meaning of tragedy and the tragic in its many German contexts, art forms, and disciplines, from literature and philosophy to music, painting, and history.

This collection of fifteen essays deals with the literary memoirs of major twentieth-century writers and focuses on the spiritual, physical and moral devastation of 20th century life. They are comparative and cross-cultural. There is no other collection of essays with this range brought under one cover.

A revisionist history of American liberalism, from the Great Depression to the Cold War. Finalist of the MSA First Book Prize by The Modernist Studies Association In Making Liberalism New, Ian Afflerbach traces the rise, revision, and fall of a modern liberalism in the United States, establishing this intellectual culture as distinct from classical predecessors as well as the neoliberalism that came to power by century's end. Drawing on a diverse archive that includes political philosophy, legal texts, studies of moral psychology, government propaganda, and presidential campaign materials, Afflerbach also delves into works by Tess Slesinger, Richard Wright, James Agee, John Dewey, Lionel Trilling, and Vladimir Nabokov. Throughout the book, he shows how a reciprocal pattern of influence between modernist literature and liberal intellectuals helped drive the remarkable writing and rewriting of this keyword in American political life. From the 1930s into the 1960s, Afflerbach writes, modern American fiction exposed and interrogated central concerns in liberal culture, such as corporate ownership, reproductive rights, color-blind law, the tragic limits of social documentary, and the dangerous allure of a heroic style in political leaders. In response, liberal intellectuals borrowed key values from modernist culture—irony, tragedy, style—to reimagine the meaning and ambitions of American liberalism. Drawing together political theory and literary history, Making Liberalism New argues that the rise of American liberal culture helped direct the priorities of modern literature. At the same time, it explains how the ironies of narrative form offer an ideal medium for readers to examine conceptual problems in liberal thought. These problems—from the abortion debate to the scope of executive power—remain an indelible feature of American politics.

Only one man in the Old Testament was given the profound description by God himself, "I have found in David...a man after my own heart" (Acts 13:22). Why? Why would God give David such a characterization? Wasn't he also a man of failure? Of contradictions? After all, today, he would provide headlines for scandal: adultery, murder, cover-up, and deception. And despite those issues, there are other pressing questions to ask: What are the qualities of one who has such a heart after God? What does that character look like? This book takes us on a journey in the life of David, discovering what God meant by such a divine inscription regarding the man who would become the greatest and most effective monarch in Israel's history. But we will also discover something greater. As we travel with David, we will soon realize there is a larger story unfolding through David's story. It's God's metanarrative, His-Story! We will find there is a deeper message from God that transcends David's life. The "key" that unlocks such a message is given to us long before David is born and spoken by God: "For those who honor me I will honor, and those who despise me shall be lightly esteemed" (1 Sam. 2:30). As we begin to understand the meaning of this truth, we will then learn why God gave David such a description. Therefore, it is through the lens of David's life, we learn the meaning and purpose of the Christian life. Why? Because God did not intend such a divine inscription for David only but one which our heavenly Father desires to write on your heart and mine as we pursue to know him.