[The above video is mostly a
reading of the text below, with an occasional aside thrown in for good measure
as they strike me as relevant. I welcome
questions, comments, or concerns about the material contained in this video.]
This is a really beautiful extended essay on a variety of interdisciplinary themes, from sociology to culture to philosophy to college life at Harvard at the end of the nineteenth century. Townsend, one of whose academic interests on his Amherst page is listed as “American Literature and Culture, 1865-1925,” earned his Ph.D. at Harvard and it’s obvious that the culture both grew on him and continues to fascinate him.
As the title divulges, this is a book largely concerned very much with what could be called the “cult of manhood” at Harvard between approximately 1865 and 1905, focusing heavily on both the colleagues and students of American philosopher and pragmatist William James. Because of the time period covered, Townsend’s interest is almost exactly coeval with the leadership of Charles William Eliot, Harvard’s longest serving president, from 1869 to 1909. James, Eliot, and Lowell (the President who directly followed Eliot) all believed that Harvard was a kind of intellectual confraternity. This language, both inside and outside the institution of higher education, sounds old-fashioned, and it is. We never hear people speak this way anymore. Depending on who was speaking, there were various amounts of misogyny, imperialism, and racism behind these declarations, with William James being perhaps one of the more liberal and humanistic, and the big, bold blustering of Teddy Roosevelt (class of 1880) holding up the other side of the spectrum.
However, the narrow topic of “manliness at Harvard” is not sustained for the entire book. Townsend is interested in James’ early life, especially the time he spent in his late twenties suffering from what was then identified as “neurasthenia” - what we might today call bipolar disorder or possibly depression. There are judicious interludes describing James’ pragmatism, which I’ve always found a peculiar flurry of Emersonianism and Stoicism. James’ writing has always struck me as having so much that is American in it. Its ability to temporize, its relentless sympathy with religiosity, to create itself anew – these were always attractive qualities. However, I was always put off by its explicit disinterest in metaphysics or ethics, even if I might invariably disagree with its conclusions. Whatever my personal opinions of James’ thought, Townsend has an infectious passion for James the man and James the teacher, as well as Alice (his sister) and Henry Sr. (his father).
Townsend also covers several elements of ordinary college life, especially the sea change in opinion that was occurring in sports. Before the 1860’s, sports were an afterthought at Harvard, a distraction from the scholarly pursuit of Latin, Greek, and Dante. After the Civil War, a decidedly pro-sports faction arose; some were moderate in their advocacy, thinking that a healthy body was just as important as a healthy mind, while others (especially Roosevelt) couldn’t possibly conceive of becoming a man without rowing crew or being on a football team. President Eliot bemoaned the rise of sports, seeing it as an unnecessary incursion into collegiate culture, but suffered it silently for the most part. Townsend also details how Eliot, the great reformer that he was, regretted the rise of specialization and professionalism associated with college education, holding the older, humanist position that it was the duty of every person (that was, for a long time, every man) to better himself through the pursuit of learning, not just of those who wants to crudely utilize their education for monetary gain.
While the central figures are undeniably Eliot and James, the peripheral ones abound: George Santayana, Henry Adams, Nathaniel Shaler, Gertrude Stein (whose passion and interest in James was undying), Teddy Roosevelt, and W. E. B. Du Bois. Even though these people were all at the elite educational institution that Harvard became during the last third of the nineteenth century, it’s still wonderful to think that so many great minds mixed there not so long ago, and the book provides generous excerpts from their letters. Above all, Townsend provides a portrait or a specific time and culture in American history which is truly past. So much of it strikes us modern readers as crude and full of machismo, and we must not make the crucial mistake of being too quick to pass judgment. There is also a lot that inspires and emboldens the imagination here: it would be easy to idealize and romanticize the time and place, even for its many obvious flaws. This is a careful balance of biographical information, intellectual history, and college life which deserves to be taken seriously by anyone compelled by these subjects.
Special thanks to my Goodreads friend Lauren who kindly sent me this book (as she generously has so many others).
As the title divulges, this is a book largely concerned very much with what could be called the “cult of manhood” at Harvard between approximately 1865 and 1905, focusing heavily on both the colleagues and students of American philosopher and pragmatist William James. Because of the time period covered, Townsend’s interest is almost exactly coeval with the leadership of Charles William Eliot, Harvard’s longest serving president, from 1869 to 1909. James, Eliot, and Lowell (the President who directly followed Eliot) all believed that Harvard was a kind of intellectual confraternity. This language, both inside and outside the institution of higher education, sounds old-fashioned, and it is. We never hear people speak this way anymore. Depending on who was speaking, there were various amounts of misogyny, imperialism, and racism behind these declarations, with William James being perhaps one of the more liberal and humanistic, and the big, bold blustering of Teddy Roosevelt (class of 1880) holding up the other side of the spectrum.
However, the narrow topic of “manliness at Harvard” is not sustained for the entire book. Townsend is interested in James’ early life, especially the time he spent in his late twenties suffering from what was then identified as “neurasthenia” - what we might today call bipolar disorder or possibly depression. There are judicious interludes describing James’ pragmatism, which I’ve always found a peculiar flurry of Emersonianism and Stoicism. James’ writing has always struck me as having so much that is American in it. Its ability to temporize, its relentless sympathy with religiosity, to create itself anew – these were always attractive qualities. However, I was always put off by its explicit disinterest in metaphysics or ethics, even if I might invariably disagree with its conclusions. Whatever my personal opinions of James’ thought, Townsend has an infectious passion for James the man and James the teacher, as well as Alice (his sister) and Henry Sr. (his father).
Townsend also covers several elements of ordinary college life, especially the sea change in opinion that was occurring in sports. Before the 1860’s, sports were an afterthought at Harvard, a distraction from the scholarly pursuit of Latin, Greek, and Dante. After the Civil War, a decidedly pro-sports faction arose; some were moderate in their advocacy, thinking that a healthy body was just as important as a healthy mind, while others (especially Roosevelt) couldn’t possibly conceive of becoming a man without rowing crew or being on a football team. President Eliot bemoaned the rise of sports, seeing it as an unnecessary incursion into collegiate culture, but suffered it silently for the most part. Townsend also details how Eliot, the great reformer that he was, regretted the rise of specialization and professionalism associated with college education, holding the older, humanist position that it was the duty of every person (that was, for a long time, every man) to better himself through the pursuit of learning, not just of those who wants to crudely utilize their education for monetary gain.
While the central figures are undeniably Eliot and James, the peripheral ones abound: George Santayana, Henry Adams, Nathaniel Shaler, Gertrude Stein (whose passion and interest in James was undying), Teddy Roosevelt, and W. E. B. Du Bois. Even though these people were all at the elite educational institution that Harvard became during the last third of the nineteenth century, it’s still wonderful to think that so many great minds mixed there not so long ago, and the book provides generous excerpts from their letters. Above all, Townsend provides a portrait or a specific time and culture in American history which is truly past. So much of it strikes us modern readers as crude and full of machismo, and we must not make the crucial mistake of being too quick to pass judgment. There is also a lot that inspires and emboldens the imagination here: it would be easy to idealize and romanticize the time and place, even for its many obvious flaws. This is a careful balance of biographical information, intellectual history, and college life which deserves to be taken seriously by anyone compelled by these subjects.
Special thanks to my Goodreads friend Lauren who kindly sent me this book (as she generously has so many others).
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