bluuebunny/crossref_metadata_2025_split huggingface dataset:
Cosimo il Vecchio de' Medici
Authors: Fletcher Stella 
Published: June 2013

The reputation of Cosimo de’ Medici (b. 1389–d. 1464) is that of the head of a successful business empire, banker to successive popes, director of Florence’s foreign policy, the first member of his family to subvert Florence’s republican constitution, and a cultural patron of such generosity that he could single-handedly change the appearance of his city. There are no obvious fault lines in Cosimo’s biography: the business interests, relations with popes and princes, political activity and cultural patronage were all so interrelated that it is difficult to separate them. The categories in this article have therefore been kept to a minimum, and many of the individual books and articles could reasonably appear under a number of headings. After Reference Works and Primary Sources, the section devoted to Histories and Biographies is subdivided into works written and/or published between the sixteenth and nineteenth centuries and those published in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. Cosimo’s wealth and influence came from his direction of the Medici Bank and associated businesses, determining its place in the article. As the bank had branches beyond Florence, it in turn determined the nature of his Relations with Other States. As far as foreign princes were concerned, he was the face of republican Florence and a man with whom they could deal quite comfortably. That contributed to his status within Florence, but the employment created by his businesses counted for more, and his wealth mattered most of all. Wealth bought influence in the world of Florentine Politics, and the works in that section explore the detail behind that familiar generalization. Political patronage and cultural patronage operated along the same principles of mutual back-scratching, but the means by which Cosimo emerged as a significant cultural patron take us back to the world of commerce and Cosimo’s guilt at the means by which he amassed his fortune. Of his Religion there is perhaps relatively little to say, except that his conventional faith was manifested in his patronage of various religious communities. Such communities required buildings and were natural repositories of learning. This determines the order in which the bibliography addresses his Cultural Patronage: after general surveys that range across the visual arts and literary works, there are subsections on Architecture, Libraries, Humanists and Humanism. The article concludes with Collections of Papers, which cover diverse topics.
Phonetics
Authors: Ashby Michael 
Published: June 2013

Phonetics may be defined as the science of speech. It is concerned with all aspects of the production, transmission, and perception of the sounds of language. According to one’s view of the scope of the term “linguistics,” phonetics may be regarded as an independent discipline alongside linguistics, or alternatively as a component within it, though the second interpretation may imply a narrowing of subject matter to only those aspects considered directly relevant for linguistic analysis and theory. The terms “speech science(s)” or “phonetic science(s)” encountered in book titles or in the names of academic programs and departments are equivalents to phonetics in its wider sense, used to insist on the broad remit and scientific basis of the discipline. The word “phonetic” and its derivatives began to be used in English in the 1840s, and although significant insights in the science of speech can be traced across a range of cultural traditions (and back through history into Antiquity) the modern form of the subject is largely a 19th-century European creation. Contributions from British pioneers A. J. Ellis (b. 1814–d. 1890) and A. M. Bell (b. 1819–d. 1905) were especially important, and the subsequent establishment of phonetics as the basis of linguistic science as a whole can be attributed particularly to the influence of Henry Sweet (b. 1845–d. 1912) and Eduard Sievers (b. 1850–d. 1932). The dominant comparative-historical linguistics of their day has since been overtaken by several changes of paradigm, though phonetics has retained its position as what Sweet called “the indispensable foundation” of language study. Since the mid-19th century, therefore, phonetics has had a continuous and cumulative history as an interdisciplinary field sited at the three-way intersection of biomedical science (at first, mainly physiology), physical science (in the early days, chiefly acoustics), and linguistic science. Each of those areas has undergone radical diversification and development, with the result that the total field of phonetics is now huge. Any attempt at a bibliography must therefore be highly selective.
Friedrich Froebel
Authors: Brehony Kevin J. , Nawrotzki Kristen D. 
Published: June 2013

Friedrich Wilhelm August Froebel (Fröbel) (b. 1782–d. 1852) was a German-born, child-centered educationalist who is frequently placed in a genealogy of modern child-centered education beginning with Rousseau and containing Pestalozzi, Montessori, and John Dewey. Froebel’s place in this pantheon was secured by his practice as a teacher and by his writing, which both described and justified his pedagogical innovations. While these covered all stages of childhood, he is especially renowned for those writings that bore upon the education of children in their early years, defined as birth to seven years old. For children in this age group, Froebel created the kindergarten—the garden of children. Conceived as filling the gap between home and school, the kindergarten curriculum was intended to foster self-activity; at first in the form of play and later as work of a physical nature. After his death, his ideas and practices were spread to many places in the world by his followers, a phenomenon facilitated by the kindergarten’s universal view of the child and its basis in abstract theory amenable to but not constitutive of religion in diverse forms. Kindergartens thus became institutionalized in private schools and colleges in many parts of the world, and in some instances, such as in the United States, they were incorporated into the public school system. The literature in English relating to Froebel falls into three main periods. First, there are the works he wrote in his lifetime, the various accounts of his life that appeared after his death, and exegetical works, many of which appeared before the main body of his work had been translated. This permitted a wide variety of interpretations, many unhindered by what Froebel had actually said. Second, there are numerous works informed by child study and psychology that appeared from the late 1880s onward and that were critical of much of his notions of child development and early-years education. Finally, there is the scholarship produced from the end of the 20th century onward that is focused on the kindergarten movements and their contribution to early-years education, much of it from a feminist perspective.
Philippe Ariès
Authors: Heywood Colin 
Published: June 2013

It is common currency in the early 21st century that childhood is an invention of modern society, that parents during the medieval period did not love their offspring, and that during that period children were treated as “miniature adults.” Diverse sources, such as newspaper articles, museum catalogs, scientific papers even, routinely take these ideas as a given from history—despite long-standing reservations among historians. The ideas can be traced back directly to Philippe Ariès (b. 1914–d. 1984) and his book Centuries of Childhood. This is a work that was published back in 1962 (or 1960 for the original French version, L’Enfant et la vie familiale sous l’Ancien Régime), yet its startling originality evidently still casts its spell. There is no doubting that Centuries launched the history of childhood and the family in its present form. It inspired numerous historians to follow up its ideas with detailed research projects, as well as influencing scholars in other disciplines. It was a work that very much reflected the concerns of the late 20th century, as historians took a growing interest in cultural history. More specifically, Ariès himself was acknowledged as a leading practitioner of the “history of mentalities.” For much of his career, Ariès appeared unlikely ever to scale such heights. He twice failed his agrégation, the conventional route into teaching, which meant that he spent most of his working life as director of documentation for an agricultural institute. Until late in life he was an historien du dimanche—his neat way of describing his amateur status—depriving him of the institutional support available to professionals in the universities. Moreover, his firm commitment to the extreme right in politics, as a Catholic and a Royalist, distanced him from most other French historians and their identification with the Republic. Yet it may be that this position as a rank outsider encouraged his ambition and adventurousness as a researcher. Happily for him, the eventual success of Centuries paved the way for a rapprochement with his fellow historians. He remained a controversial figure, and indeed most of the hypotheses presented in the book have not stood up well to further research. This bibliography traces the long trajectory of his rise and decline as an influence on the history of childhood.
Religion and Film
Authors: Lindvall Terry 
Published: June 2013

In 1911 one of the earliest documents examining the nature and function of cinema came from the Reverend Herbert A. Jump of Connecticut, a pamphlet entitled The Religious Possibilities of the Motion Picture. His thoughtful reflections on the novel medium envisioned a fertile marriage between the moving pictures and the church, leading to revival and reform. However, his work was practical and apologetic, particularly to a readership that would soon divide over whether the moving pictures were a handmaiden to theology or the devil’s camera. His work followed a presentation of ideas in the periodical The Congregationalist, indicating that the pioneering work done in the two disciplines of religion and film came from the more entrenched queen of the sciences, from theologians and clerics. Directors such as the Methodist D. W. Griffith waxed on eloquently about the eschatological “universal language” of the cinema, and Vachel Lindsay poetically mused on film’s spiritual aspects as “photoplays of religious splendors.” Perhaps the first filmmaker/critic to articulate the religious aspects of the moving picture was French critic Jean Epstein, who in the 1920s described the effect of the image to intensely affect, transport, and transform spectators, offering an “essentially supernatural” experience. Nevertheless, religious writers dominated the publications in this area, with the first flood of publications coming in the 1970s. Only recently, with the work of Nolan, Hendershot, and others, would scholars in film theory and history contribute to the conversation. The following sections map out both historical and conceptual perspectives.
Film Comedy
Authors: Fischer Lucy 
Published: June 2013

Film comedy is a ubiquitous form of cinema, present from the medium’s earliest days with little “mischief joke” movies such as the Lumière brothers’ L’arroseur arrosé (1895) in which the “hoser gets hosed.” Comedies were popular not only in turn-of-the- century France but also in the United States, with Thomas Alva Edison producing shorts such as A Wringing Good Joke (1899) in which a boy ties his grandfather’s chair to the wringer of a washer and mayhem ensues. While some consider comedy a film genre, it is such a broad category that others liken it to a mode (e.g., melodrama) that itself is divided into various genres: romantic comedy, satire, parody, and the like. Comic movies were popular throughout the silent era, with the first major stars being comedians (for instance, Charlie Chaplin or Max Linder). While much of the humor was physical and slapstick (pies in the face, people falling down, and machines run amuck), more sophisticated works were soon produced by directors such as Ernst Lubtisch and Cecil B. Demille—who adapted comedies of manners (about high society, romance, marriage, and divorce) to the screen. Parodies were also soon produced as when Buster Keaton made Three Ages (1923), a send up of D. W. Griffith’s Intolerance (1916). With the coming of sound, the nexus of comedy shifted to the vocal register with performers imported from Broadway, radio, or the vaudeville circuit. Hence, cinema saw the appearance of fast-talking performers such as the Marx Brothers, mumbling comics such as W. C. Fields, and sexually suggestive dames such as Mae West. With sound came the expansion of romantic comedy (in which sexual repartee substituted for lovemaking) as well as the development of other genres more consonant with dialogue: screwball, satire, and parody. With comedy’s coming of age in the cinema, new themes and perspectives emerged: although in the early days, women were frequently butts of the joke (for instance, the characters played by Margaret Dumont in the Marx Brothers films), in more contemporary times they became forceful comediennes (for instance Roseanne). While at the 20th century’s dawn ethnic minority characters were often maliciously stereotyped, beginning in the later 20th century, they would become comic heroes in their own right (as Eddie Murphy or Woody Allen did). All the genres pioneered in the first days of film history remain vibrant today (including slapstick) and the range of comic forms remains emphatically international.
Mona Caird
Authors: Surridge Lisa 
Published: June 2013

The feminist novelist and essayist Mona Caird (b. 1854–d. 1932) was propelled to fame in the summer of 1888 when her Westminster Review essay “Marriage” became the focus of the great marriage debate in the Daily Telegraph. When the newspaper posed the question, “Is Marriage a Failure?,” twenty-seven thousand respondents weighed in. Caird, however, had not asked whether marriage was a failure; she had stated unequivocally that it was one. A married women herself, she argued that marriage should be conceptualized not in terms of duty or sacrifice, but as a contract freely entered into by equals and dissolvable at the will of the parties. Her views were attacked by those who accused her of “balderdash” and by those who punned that “no one Caird”; indisputably, however, she had touched a raw nerve, as the sheer volume of correspondence indicated. During the late 1880s and throughout the 1890s, Caird developed in essays her views on marriage, the family, and gender relations. Delving into histories of past societies, she argued for the constructed nature of gender relations, citing historical examples of women’s rule, power, and inheritance. Writing in the post-Darwinian era, Caird was deeply disturbed by the implications of contemporary debates about evolution and the future of the race. She fought against contemporary eugenicists, defended women’s right to use birth control, and argued that the race would evolve not by the right of might, but by cultivating compassion and adhering to principles of freedom and individual rights. From the mid-1890s forward, such principles led her to an antivivisectionist stance; presciently, she warned against justifying experiments by social gain, arguing that if such eugenic principles were accepted, the rights of the weak would be imperiled. During World War I, she wrote against brute force as a means of social progress, advocating instead education, international communication, and travel as a means of fostering global citizens. A deeply original thinker, Caird was also an experimental novelist, recognized in 1894 by the Review of Reviews as a founder of a new genre, the “Modern Woman novel” (what would later be called the “New Woman” novel). Experimenting with form, imagery, mythography, and temporality, Caird created novels that are aesthetic forms in their own right, not mere dramatizations of her political principles. Since the 1990s, feminist scholarship has hailed Caird’s achievements as new woman essayist, novelist, historiographer, and anti-eugenic feminist, placing her work in relation to contemporary debates on gender, sexuality, and eugenics. While Caird’s biography remains shadowy, her writings have come into the scholarly light.
Nathaniel Hawthorne
Authors: Martin Michael , Coale Samuel 
Published: June 2013

Unlike Dickinson, Melville, and Thoreau, who are now viewed as classic American authors, Nathaniel Hawthorne and his work were never completely ignored by the public and various critics. Hawthorne (b. 1804–d. 1864)—was born Nathaniel Hathorne in Salem, Massachusetts, and came from a long line of farmers and sailors. His most notorious ancestor was John Hathorne, a judge at the Salem witch trials in 1692, which helps explain his constant struggle with the Calvinistic sense of determinism and tragic fate in his fiction. He married Sophia Peabody in 1842 and sought and accepted political appointments to the custom house in Boston and Salem and finally as consul to Liverpool, England, as a result of his campaign biography of President Franklin Pierce, a fellow Bowdoin graduate. He spent a twelve-year apprenticeship in his mother’s family’s home (1825–1837)—his father died when he was four—writing short stories, sketches, and essays, which led to his romantic legend as a hermit and recluse. Success came with The Scarlet Letter in 1850 and went on to include The House of the Seven Gables (1851), The Blithedale Romance (1852), and The Marble Faun (1860) as well as collections of his short fiction and Our Old Home (1863). Early on, critics wrestled with the relationship between his genteel style and his “morbid” subjects, biographers creating either a very pragmatic Hawthorne or a reclusive ghost. The New Critics delved into the psychological and proto-theological themes in his work and trumpeted his use of contradiction, paradox, and the polarized perspectives of his characters, thus concentrating on such tales as “The Minister’s Black Veil” and “My Kinsman, Major Molineux” at the expense of the popular ones in his lifetime, such as “Little Annie’s Ramble,” “A Rill from the Town Pump,” and “Sunday at Home.” Friends such as Elizabeth Peabody and Henry Wadsworth Longfellow consistently praised his work, as did other writers such as Edgar Allan Poe (at first he praised and then disparaged it as too allegorical and thin) and Herman Melville. Criticism has always emphasized the dualisms in his work—good and evil, men and women, and Puritanism and romanticism—as well as his often contradictory responses to such historical issues as the Civil War, abolitionism, feminism, and the delicate political compromises, which upheld the status quo between North and South, of the 1850s. After his four-year stint in Liverpool, he traveled extensively in Italy and returned to Concord, Massachusetts, in 1860.
Marianne Moore
Authors: Levy Ellen 
Published: June 2013

“Everything is worthless but the best and this is the best,” William Carlos Williams said of the poetry of Marianne Moore (b. 1887–d. 1972) in The Dial, though “only,” he warned, “with difficulty discerned” (p. 310). Moore’s brand of modernist difficulty won her the admiration of peers such as Williams, H.D., T. S. Eliot, Ezra Pound, and Wallace Stevens and has exercised a powerful influence on later poets from Hart Crane to Elizabeth Bishop and John Ashbery. However, her poems, composed of sinuous Jamesian sentences tightly encased in Moore’s signature syllabic stanzas and packed with citations from a dizzying array of sources high and low, have, as Williams suspected, proven a challenge to less discerning readers. “Critical curiosity, which has fussed over so many twentieth-century pages, has tended to leave Miss Moore’s poems approvingly uninvestigated,” Hugh Kenner lamented in 1963 in Poetry (102.2, p. 115), and although the situation has improved since then, Moore remains understudied relative to her achievement and influence. Born in 1887 and raised in Carlisle, Pennsylvania, by her brilliant, pious mother, Moore never knew her father, who had a breakdown and left the family shortly before her birth. Mother, daughter, and Marianne’s brother, Warner, came to form an extraordinarily close unit, with its own private language and etiquette, and Moore’s writing would be marked by this hermetic family style. In the years after her graduation from Bryn Mawr in 1909, Moore’s poems were rejected by the mainstream publications to which she first sent them, but by the mid-1910s her terse, spiky verses had begun to appear in modernist little magazines like The Egoist, Poetry, and Others. In 1918, Moore moved with her mother to New York City, where her presence on the scene in Greenwich Village accelerated her success. Moore became especially closely associated with the influential journal The Dial, publishing her book, Observations (1924), with the Dial Press, receiving the Dial Prize in 1925, and taking up the magazine’s editorship in that same year, a job she held until it folded in 1929. Selected Poems (1935), edited by T. S. Eliot, included much of the strong, politically charged work Moore published in the early 1930s and solidified her reputation with the cognoscenti, but it was her Collected Poems (1951), which won the Pulitzer Prize and the National Book Award, that finally gained the poet a wider readership. By the end of the 1950s, in a strange twist of fate, the notably esoteric and eccentric Moore had become a much-photographed celebrity, America’s favorite spinster aunt, a role she inhabited almost until her death in New York in 1972.
Israel Ba'al Shem Tov
Authors: Gellman Uriel 
Published: June 2013

The 18th-century Polish-Jewish mystic, Israel ben Eliezer (b. c. 1700–d. 1760)—known widely as the Ba’al Shem Tov (Master of the Good Name), or by his acronym the Besht, is definitely one of the key figures in modern Jewish history. His character and his teachings inspired Hasidism—a social-religious movement that developed amongst Jews in Eastern Europe during the last decades of the 18th century, and is still vital within Jewish ultra-orthodoxy. The main scene of his activity was the Carpathians and the southeastern areas of the kingdom of Poland, especially the province of Podolia (now Ukraine). After a period of “concealment,” he began to function publicly (c. 1733) as a ba’al shem (shamanic healer), proficient in the use of “holy names,” and as a mystic possessing magical powers and bearing a new religious message. He finally settled in Międzybóż, an important commercial and communal center in the 1740s, where he was a respected member of the community, held a post as a ba’al shem, enjoyed a degree of prestige, and was admitted into the local circle of mystics. The Besht and a group of his associates formed a small group of pneumatic individuals who followed the distinctive religious lifestyle and customs of similar groups of Jewish mystics in 18th-century Europe. The Besht revealed his spiritual achievement and his mystical experiences to the members of this group, while, as a ba’al shem, he continued wandering and regarded himself a leader of the Jewish people. Fable and fact about the Besht’s life are so interwoven that modern historians have found it difficult to paint a coherent biography of this most influential figure. Many of the earlier assessments of his life and teachings have been challenged recently, and there are yet many more lacunae to be treated in future studies. The Besht’s importance as a historical figure is embedded not only in the Hasidic movement, in which he is seen as its founder or predecessor, but also in the ideological shift that took place within Jewish traditional society alongside Hasidism. Different ideological trends in modern times, like Jewish enlightenment or non-Hasidic rabbinic culture, were self-fashioned against the values and mores introduced by the Hasidic phenomenon.