Vol. 4, Number 3	Fall 2001 issue

Dear Reader,

Since the terrorist attacks, friends and professors have questioned the importance of intellectual pursuits that are seemingly removed from current events. Does it really matter if we distinguish what two scholars wrote about The Republic or whether Jonathan Franzen has revived the novel? Shouldn’t we shift from absorbing knowledge to effecting change, from dissecting texts to debating the current war? Certainly questions about the boundaries of the Ivory Tower aren’t new. But they have taken on a new urgency.

Yet the value of academic and critical disciplines has emerged in our response to the events of September 11th. In an interview with The Yale Daily News, Paul Kennedy remarked that even the “angry” among us might accept history as a discipline as they “might accept that having somebody know about the mind of the enemy is a good thing.” Though most academic subjects don’t offer this “most practical and utilitarian function,” the analytical skills required to approach a text, an event, or a narrative are perhaps the best means we have to meet these challenges. Whether you support or oppose the current military action, it’s clear that we aren’t best served through unreflective, reactive violence. Formulating intelligent policy requires reasoned discussion, incisive commentary and broadened perspectives from voices both outside and within the political system.

Even less politically contemporary disciplines support the culture of reasonable discourse. Literature and literary criticism resist the didacticism and prejudice that produce impulsive, reactive tactics. While reading a book, you allow your thoughts to be guided. And literary criticism requires that you surrender preconceptions and consider the views of another mind. While political discussions may acknowledge yet not fulfill the need for intelligent discourse, attentive reading and powerful criticism demonstrate them.

We hope you find that examples of this critical, literary sensibility abound in this issue of the YRB. They are, I think, crystallized in reviewer Jessica Thomas’ observation that Didion’s Political Fictions derives much of its power from the author’s function as an observer of contemporary politics; as an “outsider,” Didion can evaluate the “narrative” presented to the Americans by that media and politicians. Like a good literary critic and an effective reviewer, Didion analyses the construction, themes, flaws and ramifications of this narrative.

Narratives are fundamental to how we understand the world. So it’s imperative that we criticize the way we tell these stories – whether literary (Silence in October), philosophical (The Procedure) or historical (The Glass Palace). In Political Fictions, Didion doesn’t devise solutions for our flawed political narratives. But this shortcoming isn’t inherent to the critical stance; instead criticism and analysis suggest the proper foundation for future remedies. In facing war, we have to step beyond detached analysis. This won’t succeed by abandoning academic disciplines and criticism but by developing a culture in which they inform policy and procedure.

I hope you enjoy the reviews of this issue.

Happy Reading!

Editor-in-Chief