Smuggling Literature

During the Cold War, the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) coordinated the secret distribution of books to key individuals, libraries, research institutes, cultural organizations, universities, and schools. From mid-1956 through 1991, these “forbidden books” found their way to six Warsaw Pact countries — Poland, Hungary, Czechoslovakia, Romania, Bulgaria, and eventually the Soviet Union.

The CIA’s clandestine book program was little-known to the public until 2003, when a former official of the CIA-founded Free Europe Committee (FEC), John P. C. Matthews, disclosed it in the International Journal of Intelligence and Counterintelligence. The program was later chronicled by Alfred Reisch, who oversaw the Hungarian book distribution project until 1974, in his “Hot Books in the Cold War.” Reisch’s book provides an encyclopedic, scholarly account of the program’s origins, operations, and impact. Henry T. Edmondson III, The MIT Press Reader

What is it that makes books so magical?

Such is the gist of Marriott’s first book, The New Dark Ages, a polemical elegy tracing the rise and fall of print from Montaigne to Mr Beast. The point is modest – scroll less, read more – but the tone is grandiose. Literacy turbocharged our capacity for complex argument, he argues, but adds that “conversation is very far from useless”, and says “literate civilisation … has never produced a work of art with quite the same quality of heroic starkness as the Iliad or Beowulf”. Anthony Cummins, The Guardian

recensione a The New Dark Ages: The End of Reading and the Dawn of a Post-Literate Society di James Marriott (Bodley Head);

vedi anche: 

It feels as if we’re increasingly seeing bookshops doubling as coffee shops or wine bars in recent years, as business owners try to broaden their customer base in tough financial times. “Bookshops are the Swiss army knives of retail,” the Bookseller Association managing director Meryl Halls tells me. They are “constantly adding new tools to remain cutting-edge while always staying rooted in books and reading”.

Yet, as Pettegree points out in The Bookshop, this survival instinct has a long precedent: in the 17th century, few shopkeepers would “risk their livelihoods on the exclusive sale of books”, with most offering a range of other goods too – stationery, medical supplies, newspapers – effectively, they were general stores.

 

Twilight of the Dons

Colin Kidd’s intriguing new history of Oxbridge intellectual life, Twilight of the Dons, explains the snub not as a powerful display of academic censure, but as the death throes of a declining cultural force. 

In the 1950s, the academics of Oxford and Cambridge universities enjoyed high prestige, freedom and confidence. They constituted nothing short of a “secular clerisy,” entrusted with the maintenance of civilised values and higher truths, and expected to lead debates within British public life. From hosting college dinners for cabinet ministers to dominating BBC current affairs programming to provisioning the intelligence services with promising students, Oxbridge dons held deep reservoirs of social capital and political power. Tristram Hunt, Financial Times

un libro molto interessante per cercare di capire il mondo universitario d'elite di Oxbridge. Il libro viene anche recensito da Fedirico Varese sul Domenicale del Sole 24 Ore del 20/9/2026.

Per rimanere nell'ambito dell'education anglosassone ed europeo in generale, da leggere anche questo articolo, "European education powerhouses rocked by falling scores in global study", Jon Henley, Deborah Cole in Berlin, Angelique Chrisafis in Paris and Miranda Bryant Nordic correspondent, The Guardian

How to make a bestseller

Think about the last book you bought. How did you choose it? Was it from a recommendation, a review, a TikTok video? Did the cover grab you, were you swayed by the quotes on the front, or did you just happen to spot it on an appealing table as you walked into the shop? Did you think about all the nudges that led you to that decision – by the publisher, the bookseller or that person you follow on Insta?

The reality is that our reading choices are directed and massaged at every turn. “It’s all about the art of persuasion,” says Philip Gwyn Jones, who was a publisher for more than 30 years and is now a literary agent. And who are the persuaders? They’re the booksellers, the supermarket stock buyers, the publishing houses and their ranks of marketers and publicists. And, more recently, persuasion often comes from BookTokers and online influencers, social media videos, podcasts and Instagram posts. How is all this changing publishing? John Self, The Guardian

What makes a good comic novel?

Nobody knows what a comic novel is. And once you start discussing it, all the fun runs out. EB White compared it to dissecting a frog (you’re left with innards and a dead frog) but I would compare it to turning all the lights on at a party: everyone looks terrible and you’ve ruined the party. [...] I think they are books that decide something is funny, as Jerry Seinfeld once defined comedy. In Moby-Dick, it’s a coin nailed to a masthead. In Vladimir Nabokov’s Pale Fire, it’s the worst best poem you’ve ever read. And yet we feel we’re getting at something the most solemn narratives aim for: an understanding of the human condition, of grief, of love, of death. All the big stuff. The comic novels I love are books that could just as easily have been tragedies. It is simply that the author has decided it’s funny. Andrew Sean Greer, The Guardian

How Brown University is navigating the rise of generative AI use in the classroom

Among its key findings, the report revealed that while most students report using generative AI in the course of their studies, many of those same students worry that it is negatively affecting their long-term cognition. Faculty members shared these concerns, and while many faculty have begun using AI in some capacity in teaching or research, many course syllabi do not adequately establish clear expectations or limitations on AI use. News from Brown

intervista interessante, in particolare per gli insegnanti 

Wielding the Blue Pencil

The editor came late to British publishing. Until well after the end of the Second World War, the man—and it usually was a man—who examined manuscripts sent in by prospective authors, wrote reports on them, and ultimately recommended whether they should be accepted or turned down was known as a “publisher’s reader.” Generally speaking, this functionary’s status was not high. He regularly operated from home or came into the office part-time. There were occasions when he worked simultaneously for several different firms, and in most cases his comments on the material he had to inspect were vestigial in the extreme. Evelyn Waugh’s older brother, Alec, employed by his father’s firm Chapman & Hall in the 1920s, remembered simply scrawling the acronym “NBG” (“No bloody good”) on the title page of anything that seemed conspicuously devoid of merit. D. J. Taylor, Portico

The End of Reading Is Here

According to the National Endowment for the Arts, which conducts the most comprehensive survey of the nation’s reading habits, fewer than half of all adults reported having read a book of any kind in 2022. Only 38 percent read a novel or short story. A study analyzing 236,000 responses to the American Time Use Survey found that the proportion of Americans who read for pleasure on any given day fell from 28 percent in 2004 to 16 percent in 2023. (The study looked at people who had read a book, magazine, or newspaper; listened to an audiobook; or read an e-book.) Gambling has become a more common leisure activity than reading a book: Last year, 57 percent of Americans placed a bet. Rose Horowitch, The Atlantic

a questo articolo allarmante, risponde un articolo generato dall'AI sul Foglio AI 

Chasing new skills

But since the release of OpenAI’s ChatGPT in 2022, more than 600,000 US tech workers have lost their jobs, according to the tech layoff tracker Layoff.fyi. Meanwhile, the unemployment rate for computer science graduates rose to 7% in 2024, up from 6.1% the previous year, and their underemployment rate was more than 19%, data from the New York Fed shows. US tech job postings on Indeed also dropped 36% from 2020 to 2025.

Experts are unsure what’s next for software engineers, but they agree on one thing: coding skills may be losing value, but the ability to evaluate AI-written code is becoming more important. Varsha Bansal, The Guardian

What’s So Great About the Great Books?

What’s So Great About the Great Books?: Why You Should Read Classic Literature (Even Though It Might Destroy You) by Naomi Kanakia; Princeton University Press

It would be tempting to put Naomi Kanakia’s new book on the crowded shelf of recent works that have sought to defend the importance of a liberal arts education, particularly the humanities. Roosevelt Montás’s Rescuing Socrates (2021) is the most logical precursor to set it beside. But in championing Great Books, Kanakia is not staking out ground in campus curriculum debates. Instead, she addresses the lay reader, Virginia Woolf’s “common reader,” the nonacademic reader who, like Kanakia, may have spent formative years reading science fiction or fantasy more than literary fiction or philosophy. A convert to the Great Books in her 20s, Kanakia wants the Gone Girl reader (her example) to at least consider moving on to Proust and Middlemarch. Todd Shy, The American Scholar

70 brilliant books for the summer

 

 

 

The Guardian 

Signed, Sealed, Delivered

Reiko Hiroyama lives on Ishigaki, a subtropical island in Japan. One morning, she went out to comb the beach near her house. Beachcombing conjures up a leisurely world of sand dollars and Daiquiris, but Hiroyama’s practice was actually about bringing in the trash. Over the years, she’d retrieved flip-flops, jerricans, hairbrushes, toothbrushes, fishing nets, and a seemingly endless array of bottles—jugs, flasks, milk bottles, beer bottles, water bottles, detergent bottles, baby bottles, motor-oil bottles. Yet that day a turquoise glass bottle caught her eye. Its neck was sticking out of the sand. There was a scroll-like object inside. “The sunlight shining on it gave it a strong presence,” Hiroyama recalled. “It seemed to say, ‘I’m here!’ ”

The cap was so thoroughly rusted that she couldn’t twist it off, so she decided to break the bottle open on a rock. “My heart was pounding,” she said. She extracted the scroll: a sheet of white paper covered in cursive handwriting. Hiroyama’s spirits sank when she realized that the letter was written in French. Lauren Collins, The New Yorker

The Life and Death of the Book Review

Book reviewing, it would seem, has been in crisis from the start. [...] The rise of Amazon reviews has reinforced a larger pattern of populist impulses challenging older cultural norms. The book clubs and reading circles that do so much to fuel book sales today generally pay little attention to professional critics, instead taking their lead from celebrities like Oprah, or online influencers. The authoritative middlebrow cultural figures who once instructed Americans on what to read from perches at the Saturday Review and the New Yorker no longer exist (Adam Gopnik does not dictate American reading habits). The very idea of such cultural authority is widely dismissed as elitist. David A. Bell, Liberties

 

Who Gets Guggenheims?

In recent years, the number of awards has stabilized to roughly 170 to 200 fellowships per year. The Guggenheim awards fellowships that fall into four broad categories: the creative arts, humanities, natural sciences, and social sciences. Since the 1950s, the foundation has gradually increased its share of funding to the creative arts, with the largest reduction coming from fellowships in the natural sciences. Dominique J. Bake, Christopher T. Bennett, Public Books

un articolo lungo e interessante che mette in evidenza anche la diminuzione dei premi assegnati alle Humanities. 

Thinking in the Margins

During our time together, I never saw Oliver annotating a book, and he never spoke about the habit; I don’t think he gave it a second thought. This was just the kind of reader he was: He would spontaneously jot down his reactions, his inner thoughts, in the margins—left, right, bottom, top—or on the endpapers or title pages, often using colored felt pens (red, green, purple, blue), sometimes switching colors on the same page. Oliver’s annotated books began piling up in tower after tower on the floor; ultimately, I found around 500 of them. I felt like I had uncovered a beautiful secret; I knew that I must be the first person (other than Oliver himself) to be reading these long-forgotten thoughts and ideas. Sometimes a book was filled with annotations, cover to cover, and sometimes just a few lines prompted him to take pen to page. To my delight, the public and scholars will be able to discover, decipher, and interpret these “secrets,” too: The New York Public Library now holds Oliver’s annotated books as a complement to its extensive Oliver Sacks archive, acquired in 2024. Bill Hayes, The American Scholar

in questo bell'articolo il partner di Oliver Sacks parla dell'abitudine di Sacks di annotare i libri a margine.

The Dark Side of Kodak

In her new book, Tales of a Militant Chemistry, Alice Lovejoy ’01 tells a different kind of war story, about the role film companies themselves played in developing weapons of war. At the same time the United States was fighting Nazi Germany, her book reveals, film giant Kodak was fighting its chief rival, German film and chemical company Agfa, both contributing to their respective war efforts. [...]

Later, the U.S. military asked Kodak to help enrich uranium for the Manhattan Project using centrifuges at its chemical subsidiary, Tennessee Eastman. At the same time, rival Agfa was producing chemical weapons in Germany, using forced labor from concentration camps.

Kodak continued its relationship with the military after the war, helping photograph nuclear tests in Nevada. When radioactive particles showed up while developing film at company headquarters in Rochester, New York, Kodak became part of a secret network of sites to test the flow of harmful radioactive fallout in the atmosphere, even as the larger public was kept in the dark.

“You can see the tension that exists between producing these technologies and living with the consequences of them,” says Lovejoy. Those are questions we’re still grappling with, she says, adding that some factories involved in cell phone production use rare earth minerals from war-torn areas. “It’s part of a larger history about what produces media and what it might mean to make industries more ethical and sustainable.” Michael Blanding, The Brown Alumni Magazine

il libro di cui si parla è: Alice Lovejoy, Tales of a Militant Chemistry (University of California Press). 

 

Neighbors

For as long as we’ve had homes, we’ve had neighbors—which is to say, we’ve had neighbor problems. [...] 

This kind of conflict—heightened, in modern times, by the advent of the doorbell camera and the erosion of the social contract—is the stuff of “Neighbors,” a new documentary series on HBO created by Dylan Redford (grandson of Robert) and Harrison Fishman (ancestry unknown). The show focusses on disputes between homeowners that, in many cases, have evolved into debilitating, years-long feuds. Tyler Foggatt, The New Yorker

Hamartia

One of the most consequential misunderstandings in the history of literary criticism turns on a single Greek word. In Aristotle’s Poetics, that word is hamartia. It is usually rendered, in classrooms and handbooks, as “tragic flaw,” and on that translation an entire tradition of reading tragedy has been erected. Yet if we return to Aristotle’s Greek and trace the word’s history with some philological care, it becomes clear that this familiar formula rests on a slow but decisive mistranslation—less an error at a single moment than a long cultural drift in which a term meaning “mistake” gradually hardened into a doctrine of moral defect.

In classical Greek, hamartia belongs to the language of action rather than character. Its root sense is concrete and kinetic: to miss one’s mark, as an archer misses the target. By extension, it denotes an error, a misjudgment, a false step... Jonathan Bate, Jonathan Bat's Literary Remains

e, per finire febbraio e l'inverno, una bella foto della grande nevicata a Providence, in RI

 

 

Fawning

It is the afternoon of the fawn. Everywhere you turn, in workplaces and households alike, yearlings with saucer eyes, brown felt noses, and stilt-like legs are wondering if you’re mad at them. The fawn response, as it’s known in some precincts of social media, bundles various forms of ingratiating, people-pleasing behavior. It can manifest in threatening situations, where expressing authentic emotion could elicit a powerful person’s wrath or cruelty, or it might be more banal: laughing at a vindictive supervisor’s unfunny joke, saying you love a gift when you don’t, laboring over the perfect string of whimsical emojis to append to an opinion that you’ve expressed over text. Katy Waldman, The New Yorker

fawning, un termine che non conoscevo per un concetto che conosco molto bene. L'IA lo definisce in questo modo: a survival response where someone tries to stay safe by pleasing, appeasing, or agreeing with others—especially people perceived as threatening or powerful. Quale potrebbe essere la traduzione italiana? Sempre l'IA suggerisce: compiacenza, servilismo, adulazione, sottomissione accomodante, comportamento remissivo. Io aggiungerei anche leccaculaggine 

Sigmund Freud’s begonia

 

This story started in March. A friend sent me a link to a small British movie she’d worked on that hadn’t yet been released. It had been shot in Wales over 18 days on a tiny budget, and as the closing credits rolled, my tearful husband [Richard Curtis] said he thought it was one of the best British films of all time. We offered to host a screening and invited anyone we knew with media influence to watch the masterpiece that is The Ballad of Wallis Island to help spread the word.

A few weeks later, the co-writer and star of the film, Tom Basden, arrived with a thank-you gift: a plastic pot with a leafy stick in the middle. To be honest, I’d have preferred a scented candle, but I was touched that he’d brought it.

Tom then told me the story of the plant. This scrubby little sprig was a cutting from his begonia, which had started life as a cutting given to him by his father-in-law, the writer Barry Walsh, who had been given his plant as a cutting by the casting director Corinne Rodriguez in 2017. Corinne’s begonia had grown from a cutting of a plant grown from one given to her by the actor Sally Miles in the 1970s. Sally’s had started life as a cutting she was given by the opera singer Kirsten Flagstad in the 50s. And Kirsten had been given her cutting in the 30s by her dear friend … Sigmund Freud.

So there I was, moving from apathy to disbelief, holding the same plant my great-grandfather Sigmund had nurtured nearly 100 years ago. Emma Freud, The Observer

una bella storia!