It is a remarkable thing to find oneself suddenly surprised by an author after having spent years analysing, interpreting, and teaching their works. And yet, that is precisely the experience of many Kant specialists in recent times, as greater attention than ever has been placed on Kant’s discussions of gender and race. Part of the disorientation for Kantians surely comes from the way in which these investigations—oriented as they are by questions of empire as opposed to say, metaphysics—are able to (...) make a body of work that has been long-familiar seem strange and new. It is in this vein that I want to use my discussion here as an opportunity to reconsider one of Kant’s most familiar texts, the Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals, in order to focus on the case of moral failure presented by the person who has chosen an easy path in life: one who has ‘seine Talente verrosten ließ’ (4:423; let their talents rust, 75), to use Kant’s phrase.1 With this in focus, I will identify four subsequent counter examples offered up by Kant, each meant to offer specific cases of non-Europeans in a manner that can provide further moral instruction on this point. What this approach should reveal is not only Kant’s unsurprising consistency regarding the need for self-improvement, but also the compatibility he evidently saw between engaging his readers in moral guidance, on the one hand, and identifying non-European others as counterexamples of a morally worthless existence, on the other. (shrink)

This essay was first presented in somewhat different form at the National Humanities Center, Research Triangle Park, North Carolina, in January 1987, when the author was in residence there on a fellowship sponsored by the Mellon Foundation.

Drawing insights from queer theory, this essay argues for making sex a more central category in political theorists’ interpretations of Diderot’s Supplement, and also of his contributions to History of the Two Indies. The Supplement has sometimes been considered a “libertine” text for depicting Tahiti as a society where sex is open, and indeed where foreign guests are treated to sexual hospitality. This essay reconstructs how and why Diderot’s Tahitians make promiscuity public policy and why Diderot makes miscegenation central (...) to his views on how to improve colonialism morally and politically. In the end, though, the Supplement is beset by asymmetric sexual logics that erode its apparent affirmation of egalitarianism, consent, hospitality, and non-egocentric interest. Although the presentation of sexual hospitality serves to critique French imperialism, its heterosexuality is compulsory and patriarchal. Nevertheless the text unwittingly offers a glimpse of a more radical, queer model of sociability. (shrink)

By all accounts, James Cook’s HMS Endeavour sojourn in Tahiti was a pivotal moment in Enlightenment engagements between Indigenous and European cultures. Among the voyage records that survive, the Endeavour draftsman Sydney Parkinson’s Journal of a Voyage to the South Seas (1773) is widely viewed as anomalous for the depth and breadth of its interests in Indigenous Tahitian culture and plant knowledge. This essay complicates that view, with emphasis on the contingencies peculiar to the Journal’s publication and to Parkinson’s own (...) authorial biography. Drawing on Gilles Deleuze and Félix Guattari’s concept of the rhizome, I analyze Parkinson’s account alongside the botanist Daniel Solander’s historiographically underutilized “Plantae Otaheitenses” manuscript. In so doing, I offer an alternative reading of the Journal as archetypal rather than exceptional in its attention to Indigenous cultures and knowledges. At stake, I suggest, is an enhanced appreciation for Indigenous–European botanical engagements and for Enlightenment print culture more broadly, as well as for the nebulously adisciplinary and collaborative nature of Enlightenment natural history field practices. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Education and Feminist AestheticsGauguin and the ExoticJane Duran (bio)IntroductionMuch has been made of the way in which Gauguin came to characterize the differences that he saw between the French and Tahitian populations once he had embarked on the series of voyages for which he is now celebrated.1 Although there is evidence to support a number of interpretations with respect to his portrayals of women, one theme has been paramount (...) in a great deal of the commentary: Gauguin came to see the women of Tahiti as not only emblematic of the island itself, and the island's culture, but as the embodiments of a certain sort of feminine grace. The contrasts that Gauguin himself invoked between the "naturalness" of the Polynesian women and what he took to be the falsity of women of his own class in Europe, especially France, has been the subject of much writing. In our attempts to educate undergraduates with respect to categories of oppression, we can appeal to the work of Gauguin as a valuable source of understanding concerning these issues.Given the Eurocentrism of the time, and given that it is roughly this same time period that Said will later go on to associate with the rise of Orientalism, it is probably not possible that Tahiti, its women, and its various flora and fauna could have been seen as anything other than vestiges of the natural in a world already too tamed. Words such as "savage" are used frequently in the criticism of the day to explain Gauguin's subjects, and some of the themes of his work seem to have been chosen specifically because they lent themselves to such an interpretation, at least in European eyes.2 But Gauguin goes a bit further than this crude caricature indicates, at least insofar as his portraits of female figures are concerned. It is clear that, for the [End Page 88] artist, they represent all that is to him unknown about Tahiti, and that at the same time they are coded as the natural, the innocent, and even the holy. An examination of some of his works will bear out the extent to which this is the case.IRegarding Gauguin's attitudes toward Tahiti and its women, Britt Salvesen has noted in recent commentary thatGauguin infused his art with mystery, often by depicting enigmatic female figures, traditional symbols of nature and its secrets. In Tahiti he expected to encounter exotic and sensual women. Given Gauguin's complicated position as both observer and participant in Tahitian society, his ambition to represent the "country's female type" bears close examination. He owned illustrated travel books in which, as he noted scornfully, "all the [natives] … look like Minerva or Pallas Athena." He aimed to disrupt this conventional projection of European ideals and fantasies onto Tahitian women.3As Salvesen indicates, Gauguin expected to find, and did find—by his lights—"exotic" and "sensual" women. Feminist analysis has provided us with an overwhelming amount of material about the extent to which such projections onto women as a group become a near universal human cultural trope, but few individuals allow us to make such strong comparisons with respect to projections on differing female figures as Gauguin does. That he is able to discern the ridiculousness of Academy art with its emphasis on "Pallas Athena" is obvious; what he chooses to do himself is something else again.Inaugurating a variety of personal relationships with women and girls as young as thirteen years of age,4 Gauguin developed a view of the Tahitian woman as emblematic simultaneously of the culture, of a certain sort of innocence, and of a virtually transcendental sacredness. That these images might be thought, naively, to have little to do with sensuality reflects the degree to which we fail to understand that for Gauguin, as for others after him, the sensual itself was sacred. Salvesen notes that one of the early relationships was with the "thirteen-year-old Tehamana. … [o]f Polynesian origin, [in]experienced, and of a seemingly 'impenetrable' character, Tehamana offered Gauguin the mysterious experience he sought in life and art."5If Tehamana represents one take on woman-as-elementally... (shrink)

This chapter contains sections titled: Punctured History Cultural Meaning Individual Meaning Self‐Expression and Double Skin Inescapable Seriousness.