[If it’s August,
it must be time for my
annual pilgrimage to my Virginia homeland with my boys—and my annual
series AmericanStudying the Old
Dominion. Leading up to a special weekend post on the people who really
signify “Virginia” to me!]
On the seminal
scholarly book that helped usher in one discipline, and broadened many others.
During my last
visit to Virginia, I finally had the chance to read a book I’ve been meaning to
look at for a good while: Christopher Krentz’s Writing Deafness:
The Hearing Line in 19th-Century American Literature (UNC,
2007). In the interests of full disclosure, I should note that Krentz worked on
his dissertation with my Dad, Stephen Railton, and has since been hired as a
colleague of my Dad’s in the
University of Virginia English Department; he also helped create the
university’s American Sign Language (ASL) program. But while those facts reflect
the development of Krentz’s ideas and project, as well as their clear significance
to broader academic communities like UVa, they don’t have anything to do with
how impressed I am by his book—that’s entirely due to what it offers to
AmericanStudies conversations, both evolving and longstanding.
Most obviously, Krentz’s
book represents a pioneering entry in the evolving academic discipline of Deaf Studies (sometimes but not
always defined as a sub-category of
Disability Studies). Indeed, when taken in tandem with Krentz’s edited
anthology A Mighty Change: An Anthology of
Deaf American Writing 1816-1864 (Gallaudet, 2000), Krentz’s work in Writing Deafness offers a foundational
template for an American Deaf Studies, a discipline that analyzes
representations and realities of deafness, hearing, and related issues across
the scope of American literature, culture, and society. That is, this discipline,
as exemplified by Krentz’s complementary and interconnected projects, is not
the slightest bit contained to deaf authors or characters (or the like)—instead,
it touches on themes and histories, identities and stories, that span a wide
range of texts, communities, and time periods. As Krentz himself makes clear,
other scholars have also contributed significantly to the creation of that new
discipline—but his book and his work are vital parts of those efforts to be
sure.
As with all of
the best scholarly work, however, Krentz’s book also offers valuable insights
into conversations and disciplines well beyond its specific focus. The “hearing
line” of Krentz’s subtitle is a purposeful echo of W.E.B. Du
Bois’s concept of the “color line” in American culture and society, and
Krentz likewise positions his book as a parallel to Toni
Morrison’s groundbreaking Playing in the
Dark (arguing that deafness and hearing have functioned not at all
unlike black and white in the American imagination and psyche). It’s a hugely
bold comparison, and Krentz acknowledges the many differences and complexities
within and across the concepts in play—but it also works very well, not only to
develop Krentz’s readings of deafness and hearing in culture and literature but
also to help us think about the presence and role of such dualities more
broadly in our conversations and histories. As is so often the case with great
scholarship, that is, Krentz’s book enters into and participates in many other
disciplinary conversations, not because it does not sufficiently develop its
own focus but rather precisely because that new, well-researched and -grounded,
and compelling focus has a great deal to offer many other perspectives as well.
I can’t recommend the book highly enough, and I look forward to seeing what’s
next for Krentz’s work and career.
Special post
this weekend,
Ben
PS. What do you
think?
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