This article reconstructs the forgotten friendship between Georges Bataille and the Russian émigré poet and philosopher Boris Poplavsky. Comparing their solar metaphysics, I focus on conceptions of friendship, sacrifice and depersonalisation. First, I retrace Bataille’s relationship to early Surrealis and Russian circles in interwar Paris, with a focus on his friendship with Irina Odoevtseva. I then offer a novel reading of Poplavsky’s poetry through the lens of Bataille’s philosophy, analysing a recurring motif that I call ‘dark solarity’. Uncovering a hidden (...) intertextual dialogue between Poplavsky and Bataille, I argue for Poplavsky’s lasting impact on Bataille’s anti-Icarian sun cult. Finally, my paper demonstrates how Poplavsky’s writings on solar sacrifice, excess and friendship left marks on Bataille’s vision of a solar community, embodied in the secret society Acéphale. The dialogue between Poplavsky and Bataille, I finally suggest, is a missing piece in the entangled history of Russian and French philosophy, as well as an original contribution to discourses on friendship in twentieth-century continental thought. (shrink)

History of science is, we are told, an important subject for study. Its rise in recent years to become a ‘stand alone’ discipline has been mirrored by an expansion of popular history of science texts available in bookstores. Given this, it is perhaps surprising that little attention has been given to how history of science is written. This article attempts to do that through constructing a typology of histories of science based upon a (...) consideration of audiences who read these texts and writers who construct them. It identifies four ideal types of history of science which describe the opposite poles of two continua running from exoteric to esoteric. The article also examines the content of a sample of history of science texts and finds that often these texts, whether esoteric or exoteric, provide only a chronology of events (often incredibly detailed), avoiding discussion or even mention of wider social, economic and political contexts. Such histories serve to reinforce a ‘standard’ account of science as ‘separate’ from the rest of society, an account that is at odds with almost all contemporary sociology of science and science and technology studies. This prompts the question: why should I read histories of science? (shrink)

This article undertakes a history of labor as seen through acknowledgment sections of the journals of the History of Science Society—Isis and Osiris—and documents what has been intentionally removed from acknowledgments over the decades. It focuses on the Society’s editorial office, with special attention to the career of manuscript editor Joan Vandegrift. Alongside a reading of select printed acknowledgments, this article offers a vernacular history of labor and identifies a paradox: the web of people (...) and things included in acknowledgments expanded amid an intentional, systematic exclusion of paid editorial staff. Over the century, acknowledgments in the Society’s journals echoed changes in the historiography—as the field shifted from stories of atomized individuals discovering truths to accounts of sociopolitical relationships through which knowledge was crafted. Historical work has always depended on relationships of various forms, but the acknowledgment of these interdependences began to appear only in the 1970s as feminist and postcolonial approaches to scholarship emerged. At the same time, acknowledgment of direct paid labor of Society employees, who improved and manifested historians’ publications, was actively removed from articles. In the process, editorial staff such as Joan Vandegrift were excluded from one of the few historical records of their labor and from the economies of credit that structure publishing industries. Overall, the aim of this piece is to support better understanding, continued rewriting, and ongoing transformation of the labor inequalities in our field. (shrink)

I discuss my long-term observation that history of science in Islamic societies is marginalized within the general history of science community as well as in the academic world of Islamic studies, Near Eastern language and civilization programs, Middle Eastern history, or the investigation of the modern Muslim world. I ask what the possible causes for this situation are and what can be done to change the bleak situation.

It has been a singular privilege to preside over the BSHS as it celebrates its fiftieth anniversary. As we share our festivities with the British Association annual meeting at Leeds, I am doubly honoured to be giving this address. A fiftieth anniversary is a sentimental occasion. It is a moment when we can express our gratitude to our many friends and forebears who by their dedication have enabled the Society to grow and flourish. That so many of those friends (...) should be with us to share in our celebration is a source of delight to us all. To our past presidents, former editors, officers and councillors, I extend the warmest welcome. And to our visitors and guests from overseas, I should like to say how much we value your presence and contribution to this conference.Is there not, then, an incongruous note in my title – a hint of foreboding perhaps? If tempted to speculate on its source one might have wondered whether it is in those rumours we sometimes hear that the end of science is nigh. When we can almost clone humans and almost explain the moment of creation, what is there left? Might the end of science not spell the end of its history? A moment's reflection suggests that this cannot be. After all, the question why science should have come to an end when it did would still keep historians in business. And the more intriguing question of why the end of science has been proclaimed at the end of each of the last four centuries would keep us in business even longer! (shrink)