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This essay revisits Emerson’s iconic transparent eyeball passage to rethink it as a moment of crossing over into queer embodiment and sensory expansion. If “trans” is “to move across” and “scandre” to climb, the point is not to rise above the physical world, but to move into it in such a way as to be in touch with its divine energies. To do so was to climb out of the enclosure and isolation of subjectivity and inhabit something much more capacious. Expanding the scope of Transcendentalism proper, the essay tracks this queer “I” into a number of other texts in which a similar experience or phenomenon of ecstasy opens onto novel social, sexual, and gender understandings. Margaret Fuller, Margaret Sweat, women trance writers, Walt Whitman, and Harriet Jacobs animate the “trans-” in Transcendentalism in their critical crossings and dynamic reassemblages of body and soul, self and other, and sex, gender, and race.
“’Flung out of Space’: Class and Sexuality in American Literary History" explores the relationship between class and queer sexuality in American literary history, suggesting how neither of these histories can be understood without accounting for the other. Reading literary texts such as Patricia Highsmith’s The Price of Salt and Richard Bruce Nugent’s “Smoke, Lilies and Jade” alongside queer theory and LGBTQ history, Lecklider suggests how class structures queer literature throughout American history, particularly since the 19th century. Particularly emphasizing how labor structures desire, this chapter argues that working-class sexualities – and their intersections with race and gender – must be taken seriously in order to fully appreciate both the contributions of queer literature and the legibility of labor in American history.
This chapter traces a select anthological archive to examine how Chicana/Latina lesbian feminist editors and writers of the late twentieth century—through collective efforts to write their lesbian feminisms into existence—made significant contributions to U.S. lesbian feminist literature and thought. Chicana/Latina lesbian feminist writers have been important contributors to the formation of multiple U.S. literary movements, including U.S. lesbian feminist literature, especially through the editing of anthologies. This chapter considers how an archive of Chicana/Latina lesbian feminist willfulness has been instrumental in constituting and anthologizing lesbian and women of color feminisms.
This essay considers the impact of the Supreme Court’s decision in Lawrence v. Texas (2003) on the production of a particular kind of queer subject, a subject coded by the court as a part of heteronormative queer couple. After tracking the court’s representation, I turn to fiction published since this decision, demonstrating that fiction offers the nuanced and complex sense of queer subjectivity that is erased in the Lawrence representation. Contemporary queer fiction, I demonstrate, disrupts the court’s representation by offering representations of kin formations that are far more complex than a homonormative assimilative couple. These depictions explore the worlds inhabited by characters who more closely resemble Lawrence and Garner—kept out of the public view—than the metropolitan, privileged queer subjects of the Lawrence ruling. The representations of contemporary fiction disrupt the homogenizing national implications of the Supreme Court as well, by locating queer subjectivity in both diasporic and transnational subjects. Finally, the growth of queer speculative fiction challenges the concept of the normative more broadly, in both form and content.
Inside the IPCC explores the institution of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) by focusing on people's experiences as authors. While the budget and overall population of an IPCC report cycle is small, its influence on public views of climate change is outsized. Inside the IPCC analyzes the social and human sides of IPCC report writing, as a complement to understanding the authoritative reports that underwrite policy decisions at many scales of governance. This study shows how the IPCC's social and human dimension is in fact the main strength, but also the main challenge facing the organization, but also the main challenge facing the organziation. By stepping back to reveal what goes into the making of climate science assessments, Inside the IPCC aims to help people develop a more realistic, and thus, more actionable, understanding of climate change and the solutions to deal with it. This title is also available as Open Access on Cambridge Core.
History is the accumulation of human activities over time. Historians have sought ceaselessly to explore changes in, amongst other things, intellectual trends, cultures, materials, races, genders, political systems, and international politics. However, if we change the geographical space in which we examine history, will we reach the same conclusions? During my academic travels in East Asia, Europe, and the United States, the question that came up most often was what can we learn about Cold War history from a maritime perspective? Current scholarship shows us that the Cold War in East Asia took shape as the result of the standoff between the US and the USSR in respect of the military, ideology, political systems, and economic markets, amongst other things. But it cannot answer the question I encountered. This book, accordingly, invites its audience to rethink how the ocean – which was characterised as a geostrategic barrier – functions as a barometer that can allow one to comprehend the untold stories embedded in the interactions between the United States and its East Asian allies and enemies alike during the Cold War.
The collapse of the Japanese Empire in the aftermath of World War II left a power vacuum in maritime East Asia. The United States recognised this opportunity to shape the emerging Cold War and the geopolitical landscape of the western Pacific rim. Despite the lack of consensus among decision-makers in Washington, on-site naval commanders could effectively influence the US strategy in the region. The US Navy selected Chiang Kai-shek’s Nationalist China as a local partner to assume responsibility for guarding the western Pacific rim. This decision was based not only on Chiang’s good relationship with the US Navy, which allowed it to enter China’s territorial waters and ports, but also on the belief that a pro-US Chinese navy could help secure America’s naval dominance in the region. With US military and financial support, Chiang successfully rebuilt a modern Nationalist navy. However, the ongoing power struggle between the Nationalists and the Communists made the situation unpredictable in maritime East Asia.
The author takes a detailed look at decision-makers’ plans for unified commands in the Pacific from 1947 onwards and elaborates on the debates within the Truman administration over naval deployment in post-war East Asia and its overall international security goals. The author further argues that the wartime competition for leadership in the Pacific between MacArthur and Nimitz did not end with World War II but persisted in the immediate post-war period. The United States regarded the Pacific as its lake, but the United States’ Navy–Army division resulted in it being a divided lake in terms of authority: the Army led the Far East Command and the Navy held the Pacific Command according to the 1947 unified command plan. This chapter also shows the inextricable link between international and regional turbulence and America’s construction of unified commands in the Pacific. Mainland China, which the US Navy chose as a springboard where it could build its maritime order in post-war East Asia, was not included in either the Far East Command or the Pacific Command. Truman administration’s ambiguous China policy and the Navy–Army competition for leadership in the Pacific blurred the contours of America’s maritime East Asia.
By shifting from the military to the legal and economic aspects of this history, it can enrich our understanding of Washington’s maritime policy in Cold War East Asia. Thus, this chapter sketches out the interaction between the United States and its local partners in maritime East Asia, including Japan, South Korea, and Taiwan, from a non-military perspective. These local partners were sheltered under the military umbrella of its system of hub-and-spoke alliances formed by mutual defence treaties. However, between them, the historical twists and turns of sovereignty rendered the international politics of East Asia all but impenetrable. Because these countries are linked by the maritime space, a consideration of the demarcation of internationally accepted maritime boundaries and fishing zones, a matter bound up in issues of sovereignty and local interests that remained controversial over the course of two centuries, provides us with a historical lens through which to examine the political calculations of each American ally in maritime East Asia and how these influenced Washington’s deliberations as it designed its global maritime policies.
This chapter demonstrates how Washington came to appreciate the western Pacific as an indispensable geostrategic space and how American strategy prioritised regulation of the sea routes safeguarding this natural barrier. In addition, the author re-evaluates the current understanding of the 1950s crises in East Asia. The author argues that, following these crises, the United States reappraised the western Pacific rim and came to regard it as the most strategically valuable area of the Pacific. It reshuffled the organisational structure of the Pacific Command once again by strengthening its naval connection with its allies, particularly Japan, South Korea, and Taiwan, as these were choke points on the front lines of the Cold War.
The interservice competition for leadership in the Pacific made it impossible for Washington to reach a consensus on strategic deployment in maritime East Asia. What really brought about the US Navy’s renouncement of its mainland-based strategy and its subsequent adoption of an offshore defensive perimeter was not the achievement of a consensus with the other services but the Chinese Communist Party’s occupation of the whole of mainland China in 1949. At this point, the United States had no choice but to withdraw all its naval forces from Qingdao, which had been the emblem of the Navy’s forward-deployed, offensive, and mainland-based strategic thinking in East Asia. China’s split across the Taiwan Strait left the structure of international politics in maritime East Asia indeterminate.
Chapter 2 argues that the perception of a threat from the Soviet Union spurred the US Navy to adopt a forward-deployed posture of defence. This naval strategy sought to deploy US naval forces in strategically valued harbours around the areas surrounding the Soviet Union so as to politically and militarily deter the Kremlin from extending its influence in the western Pacific. Moscow’s control over Port Arthur and Dalian in the northeastern part of China led the US Navy to establish the headquarters of the Seventh Fleet at the port of Qingdao, which it treated as a hub for defending America’s international security in maritime East Asia. The US Navy aimed to establish a balance of power in maritime East Asia by preventing its potential adversary, the Soviet Union, from becoming a regional hegemon. By August 1945, nascent Cold War rivalry was already discernible in the western Pacific rim, and the contours of the Cold War were palpable in maritime East Asia.