When down from the moon stepped the goddess of the night, she bid Minerva/Athene come to her. "Minerva/Athene," she said, "you sprang fully formed from the head of your father. Now all the daughters of mankind think they, too, are as rootless as you. Tonight I bid you dance, join the circle round 1 that tree glistening with the clarity of wisdom. Mother Natura and Lady Philosophia, hands together, already have begun the promenade of myth and allegory. " Still in the garb of gold and white stone, Minerva/ Athene did as she was bid and danced till dawn. Then in new light, she found herself suddenly a budding flower on a tall branch, and even more swiftly a crystalline fruit, rivaling the morning sun, refracting the light. Behold, she had grown roots, difficult to discover down in the dark of history, deep in the solid knowledge of earth. And the daughters of humankind saw and reveled in their roots. This is the story of this book, a history, long and diverse, of women thinkers and their thought. It will become a legacy for all who study it, a legacy that Heloi"se, Marie de Gournay, Sor Juana Ines de Ia Cruz, and Judith Sargent Murray among many women philosophers assured by composing lists of the names of women little acknowledged century after century. While the Hannah Arendt's, Susanne K.

What makes for a philosophical classic? Why do some philosophical works persist over time, while others do not? The philosophical canon and diversity are topics of major debate today. This stimulating volume contains ten new essays by accomplished philosophers writing passionately about works in the history of philosophy that they feel were unjustly neglected or ignored-and why they deserve greater attention. The essays cover lesser known works by famous thinkers as well as works that were once famous but now only faintly remembered. Works examined include Gorgias' Encomium of Helen, Jane Adams' Women and Public Housekeeping, W.E.B. DuBois' Whither Now and Why, Edith Stein's On the Problem of Empathy, Jonathan Bennett's Rationality, and more. While each chapter is an expression of engagement with an individual work, the volume as a whole, and Eric Schliesser's introduction specifically, address timely questions about the nature of philosophy, disciplinary contours, and the vagaries of canon formation.

Film noir was a cycle in American cinema which first came into prominence during World War II, peaked in the 1950s, and began to taper off as a definable trend by 1960. Over the years, a group of films from the period emerged as noir standards, beginning with Stranger on the Third Floor in 1940. However, since film noir is too wide-ranging, it cannot be kept within the narrow limits of the official canon that has been established by film historians. Consequently, several neglected movies made during the classic noir period need to be re-evaluated as noir films. In Out of the Shadows: Expanding the Canon of Classic Film Noir, Gene Phillips provides an in-depth examination of several key noir films, including acknowledged masterpieces like Laura, The Maltese Falcon, Sunset Boulevard, and Touch of Evil, as well as films not often associated with film noir like Spellbound, A Double Life, and Anatomy of a Murder. Phillips also examines overlooked or underappreciated films such as Song of the Thin Man, The Glass Key, Ministry of Fear, and Act of Violence. Also considered in this reevaluation are significant neo-noir films, among them Chinatown, Hammett, L.A. Confidential, and The Talented Mr. Ripley. In his analyses, Phillips draws upon a number of sources, including personal interviews with directors and others connected with their productions, screenplays, and evaluations of other commentators. Out of the Shadows explores not only the most celebrated noir films but offers new insight into underrated films that deserve reconsideration. Of interest to film historians and scholars, this volume will also appeal to anyone who wants a better understanding of the works that represent this unique cycle in American filmmaking.

In this major book, Griselda Pollock engages boldly in the culture wars over `what is the canon?` and `what difference can feminism make?` Do we simply reject the all-male line-up and satisfy our need for ideal egos with an all women litany of artistic heroines? Or is the question a chance to resist the phallocentric binary and allow the ambiguities and complexities of desire - subjectivity and sexuality - to shape the readings of art that constantly displace the present gender demarcations?