Kirjahaku

This is the first book-length study of the humanities and the Irish university. Ireland was a deeply religious country throughout the twentieth century but the colleges of its National University never established a religion or theology department. The official first language of Ireland is Irish but the vast majority of teaching in the arts and humanities is in English. These are two of the anomalies that long constrained humanities education in Ireland. This book charts a history of responses to humanities education in the Irish context. Reading the work of John Henry Newman, Padraig Pearse, Sean O Tuama, Denis Donoghue, Declan Kiberd, Richard Kearney and others, it looks for an Irish humanities ethos. It compares humanities models in the US, France and Asia with those in Ireland in light of work by Immanuel Kant, Pierre Bourdieu and Jacques Derrida. It should appeal to those interested in Irish education and history.

The image of the university is tarnished: this book examines how recent philosophies of education, new readings of its economics, new technologies affecting research and access, and contemporary novelists' representations of university life all describe a global university that has given up on its promise of greater educational equality.

The image of the university is tarnished: this book examines how recent philosophies of education, new readings of its economics, new technologies affecting research and access, and contemporary novelists' representations of university life all describe a global university that has given up on its promise of greater educational equality.

This study charts a history of weakness in a selection of canonical works in literature and philosophy. Examining the nature of weakness has inspired some of the most influential aesthetic and philosophical portraits of the human condition. By reading a selection of canonical literary and philosophical texts, Michael O'Sullivan charts a history of responses to the experience and exploration of weakness. Beginning with Plato and Aristotle, this first book-length study of the concept explores weakness as it interpreted by Lao Tzu, Nietzsche, the Romantics, Dickens and the Modernists. It examines what feminist critics Elaine Showalter and Luce Irigaray make of the figure of the "weaker vessel" and considers philosophical notions such as radical passivity, a "syntax of weakness" and human vulnerability in the work of Derrida and Beckett and Coetzee. Through analysis of these differing versions of weakness, O'Sullivan's study challenges the popular myth that aligns masculine identity with strength and force and presents a humane weakness as a guiding motif for debates in ethics.

The Incarnation of Language investigates how the notion of incarnation has been employed in phenomenology and how this has influenced literary criticism. It then examines the interest that Joyce and Proust share in the concept of incarnation. By examining the themes of synthesis and embodiment that incarnation connotes for these writers, it offers a new reading of their work departing from critical readings that have privileged notions of radical alterity and difference.

Examining the nature of weakness has inspired some of the most influential aesthetic and philosophical portraits of the human condition. By reading a selection of canonical literary and philosophical texts, Michael O'Sullivan charts a history of responses to the experience and exploration of weakness. Beginning with Plato and Aristotle, this first book-length study of the concept explores weakness as it is interpreted by Lao Tzu, Nietzsche, Derrida, the Romantics, Dickens and the Modernists. It examines what feminist writers Simone de Beauvoir and Luce Irigaray have made of the gendered biomythology constructed around the figure of the "weaker vessel" and it considers related notions such as im-potentiality, a "syntax of weakness" and human vulnerability in the work of Agamben, Beckett and Coetzee. Through analysis of these differing versions of weakness, O'Sullivan's study challenges the popular myth that aligns masculine identity with strength and force and presents a humane weakness as a guiding motif for debates in ethics.

Recent posthuman philosophies, human-computer interface studies, and technology-inspired biopolitical discourses and practices are reinventing and reimagining loneliness in different communities. Cloneliness: The Reproduction of Loneliness takes a cross-cultural approach to loneliness by examining 20th-century artistic expressions and examinations of loneliness in the context of more recent global expressions grounded in social networks, virtual reality, the biopolitical commons, academic credentialization and such practices as Hikikomori. Newer forms of loneliness, pushed by the algorithms of biopolitical capitalism, result in what this books calls "cloneliness." Michael O'Sullivan plots the transformation in loneliness in literature and philosophy in readings that take us from Henry James and such classic works as Frank O’Connor’s The Lonely Voice and Richard Yates’s Eleven Kinds of Loneliness to more recent expressions in such writers as David Foster Wallace, Yiyun Li, and Sayaka Murata.Michael O’Sullivan argues that cloneliness as an institutional practice of reproduction in society nurtures, normalizes, and reproduces loneliness in order to create subjects who are more willing to accept ideologies of competition, “extreme individualism,” and the stresses of being "interconnected loners."

Recent posthuman philosophies, human-computer interface studies, and technology-inspired biopolitical discourses and practices are reinventing and reimagining loneliness in different communities. Cloneliness: The Reproduction of Loneliness takes a cross-cultural approach to loneliness by examining 20th-century artistic expressions and examinations of loneliness in the context of more recent global expressions grounded in social networks, virtual reality, the biopolitical commons, academic credentialization and such practices as Hikikomori. Newer forms of loneliness, pushed by the algorithms of biopolitical capitalism, result in what this books calls "cloneliness." Michael O'Sullivan plots the transformation in loneliness in literature and philosophy in readings that take us from Henry James and such classic works as Frank O’Connor’s The Lonely Voice and Richard Yates’s Eleven Kinds of Loneliness to more recent expressions in such writers as David Foster Wallace, Yiyun Li, and Sayaka Murata.Michael O’Sullivan argues that cloneliness as an institutional practice of reproduction in society nurtures, normalizes, and reproduces loneliness in order to create subjects who are more willing to accept ideologies of competition, “extreme individualism,” and the stresses of being "interconnected loners."

The world is at a turning point. While globalization benefited many, it produced extremes with drastic wealth inequality, indebtedness, and political volatility among the most important. As the ground underneath globalization undergoes tectonic shifts, noisy, chaotic, and disorderly events--such as Brexit and the election of Donald Trump--are the first harbingers of a world being turned upside down.In this book, Michael O'Sullivan shows the many ways the levelling of the twenty-first century will unfold: The levelling-out of wealth between rich and poor countries; of power between nations and regions; of political accountability and responsibility between political leaders and "the people"; and of institutional power--away from central banks and defunct twentieth-century institutions such as the WTO and IMF.The Levelling comes at a crucial time in the rise and fall of nations and has special importance for Americans as our place in the world undergoes radical change--the ebbing of our influence, profound questions over our economic model, the apparent decay in our society, and turmoil in our public life-- before our very eyes.

Hailed as the new O'Casey by Irish critics in 1958, Behan is now often portrayed as the archetypal Irishman and spectacular drunk. Behind the myth lies the more compelling story of a writer who was never able to fully harness his larger-than-life personality and talent.

This is the first book-length study of the humanities and the Irish university. Ireland was a deeply religious country throughout the twentieth century but the colleges of its National University never established a religion or theology department. The official first language of Ireland is Irish but the vast majority of teaching in the arts and humanities is in English. These are two of the anomalies that long constrained humanities education in Ireland. This book charts a history of responses to humanities education in the Irish context. Reading the work of John Henry Newman, Padraig Pearse, Sean O Tuama, Denis Donoghue, Declan Kiberd, Richard Kearney and others, it looks for an Irish humanities ethos. It compares humanities models in the US, France and Asia with those in Ireland in light of work by Immanuel Kant, Pierre Bourdieu and Jacques Derrida. It should appeal to those interested in Irish education and history.

The Incarnation of Language investigates how the notion of incarnation has been employed in phenomenology and how this has influenced literary criticism. It then examines the interest that Joyce and Proust share in the concept of incarnation. By examining the themes of synthesis and embodiment that incarnation connotes for these writers, it offers a new reading of their work departing from critical readings that have privileged notions of radical alterity and difference.

Gilbert Ryle’s 1949 The Concept of Mind is now famous above all as the origin of the phrase “the ghost in the machine” – a phrase Ryle used to attack the popular idea that our bodies and minds are separate. His own position was that mental acts are not at all distinct from bodily actions. Indeed, they are the same thing, merely described in different ways – and if one cuts through the confusing language of the old philosophical debates, he suggests, that becomes clear. While, in many ways, modern philosophers of mind have moved on from or discarded Ryle’s actual arguments, The Concept of Mind remains a classic example of two central critical thinking skills: interpretation and reasoning. Ryle was what is known as an “ordinary language” philosopher – a school who considered many philosophical problems to exist purely because of philosophical language. He therefore considered his task as a philosopher to be one of cutting through confusing language, and clarifying matters – exemplifying the critical thinking skill of interpretation at its best. Rather than adding to philosophical knowledge as such, moreover, he saw his role as one of mapping it – giving it what he called a “logical geography.” As such, The Concept of Mind is also all about reasoning: laying out, organizing, and systematizing clear arguments.

David Hume’s 1748 Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding is a modern philosophical classic that helped reshape epistemology – the philosophy of knowledge. It is also a classic of the critical thinking skills of analysis and reasoning. Analysis is all about understanding how arguments work and fit together. Having strong analytical skills helps to break down arguments, pull out the evidence on which they rely, and understand the kinds of implicit assumptions and reasons on which they work. Reasoning, meanwhile, means building and presenting arguments, forming well-structured, evidenced, and organised cases for a particular point of view. Hume applied his analytical skills to arguments about how humans know and understand the world, and how our minds work. At base, he was trying to analyse human reason itself – to show the workings and limitations of the human mind, and show the origins of our beliefs. Hume went on to apply his reasoning skills, creating an enduring argument about the nature of human knowledge. The result was one of the most striking and famous works in the history of philosophy.

Immanuel Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason is one of the most influential works in the history of philosophy – not to mention one of the most challenging. Its topic is the nature of human knowledge, and the question of whether or not it is possible to have knowledge of the world at all. Over two centuries later, Kant’s treatise remains a subject of fierce debate among philosophers, who continue to offer new interpretations of his meaning. What is not in doubt is the work’s originality and brilliance – nor its mastery of creative thinking. Creative thinkers are able to bring a new perspective to questions and problems, look at things from a different angle, and show them in a fresh light. Kant achieved this by mediating between the two major schools of philosophical thought concerning knowledge – empiricism and rationalism – to create a complex third way. Where empiricists believed all knowledge is founded on experience, and rationalists believed true knowledge is founded on reason alone, Kant evaluated their arguments and proposed a third position – one incorporating elements of both, but within specific limits. As infamously dense as it is profound, Kant’s Critique shows creative thinking operating at a level few can aspire to reach.

David Hume’s 1748 Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding is a modern philosophical classic that helped reshape epistemology – the philosophy of knowledge. It is also a classic of the critical thinking skills of analysis and reasoning. Analysis is all about understanding how arguments work and fit together. Having strong analytical skills helps to break down arguments, pull out the evidence on which they rely, and understand the kinds of implicit assumptions and reasons on which they work. Reasoning, meanwhile, means building and presenting arguments, forming well-structured, evidenced, and organised cases for a particular point of view. Hume applied his analytical skills to arguments about how humans know and understand the world, and how our minds work. At base, he was trying to analyse human reason itself – to show the workings and limitations of the human mind, and show the origins of our beliefs. Hume went on to apply his reasoning skills, creating an enduring argument about the nature of human knowledge. The result was one of the most striking and famous works in the history of philosophy.

Immanuel Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason is one of the most influential works in the history of philosophy – not to mention one of the most challenging. Its topic is the nature of human knowledge, and the question of whether or not it is possible to have knowledge of the world at all. Over two centuries later, Kant’s treatise remains a subject of fierce debate among philosophers, who continue to offer new interpretations of his meaning. What is not in doubt is the work’s originality and brilliance – nor its mastery of creative thinking. Creative thinkers are able to bring a new perspective to questions and problems, look at things from a different angle, and show them in a fresh light. Kant achieved this by mediating between the two major schools of philosophical thought concerning knowledge – empiricism and rationalism – to create a complex third way. Where empiricists believed all knowledge is founded on experience, and rationalists believed true knowledge is founded on reason alone, Kant evaluated their arguments and proposed a third position – one incorporating elements of both, but within specific limits. As infamously dense as it is profound, Kant’s Critique shows creative thinking operating at a level few can aspire to reach.

Gilbert Ryle’s 1949 The Concept of Mind is now famous above all as the origin of the phrase “the ghost in the machine” – a phrase Ryle used to attack the popular idea that our bodies and minds are separate. His own position was that mental acts are not at all distinct from bodily actions. Indeed, they are the same thing, merely described in different ways – and if one cuts through the confusing language of the old philosophical debates, he suggests, that becomes clear. While, in many ways, modern philosophers of mind have moved on from or discarded Ryle’s actual arguments, The Concept of Mind remains a classic example of two central critical thinking skills: interpretation and reasoning. Ryle was what is known as an “ordinary language” philosopher – a school who considered many philosophical problems to exist purely because of philosophical language. He therefore considered his task as a philosopher to be one of cutting through confusing language, and clarifying matters – exemplifying the critical thinking skill of interpretation at its best. Rather than adding to philosophical knowledge as such, moreover, he saw his role as one of mapping it – giving it what he called a “logical geography.” As such, The Concept of Mind is also all about reasoning: laying out, organizing, and systematizing clear arguments.

Many still consider Ludwig Wittgenstein’s 1953 Philosophical Investigations to be one of the breakthrough works of twentieth-century philosophy. The book sets out a radically new conception of philosophy itself, and demonstrates all the attributes of a fine analytical mind. Taking an argument from Plato and subjecting it to detailed (and very clear) analysis, Wittgenstein shows his understanding of how the sequence and function of differing parts of a highly-complex argument can be broken down and assessed. In so doing, he reaches a logical position of simultaneous agreement and disagreement with Plato’s philosophical position. Philosophical Investigations is also a powerful example of the skill of interpretation. Philosophical problems often arise from confusions in the use of language – and the way to solve these problems, Wittgenstein posits, is by clarifying language use. He argues that philosophers must study ordinary uses of language and examine how people use it as a tool in their everyday lives. In this highly-interpretative way, the meaning of a word or sentence becomes relative to the context (people, culture, community) in which it is used. Rather than debate abstract problems, Wittgenstein urges philosophers to concern themselves with ordinary life and the concrete situations in which humans find themselves.

This book examines how Irishness as national narrative is consistently understood ‘from a distance’. Irish Presidents, critics, and media initiatives focus on how Irishness is a global resource chiefly informed by the experiences of an Irish diaspora predominantly working in English, while also reminding Irish people ‘at home’ that Irish is the 'national tongue'. In returning to some of Ireland’s major expat writers and international diplomats, this book examines the economic reasons for their migration, the opportunities they gained by working abroad (sometimes for the British Empire), and their experiences of writing and governing in non-native English speaking communities such as China and Hong Kong. It argues that their concerns about belonging, loneliness, the desire to buy a place ‘back home’, and losing a language are shared by today’s generation of social network expatriates.