examination of He's data concluded that the Cas9 enzyme he had worked on had cut the genome at the correct target site, but instead of producing a full 32-base-pair deletion, one of the twins had a 15-base-pair deletion, while the other had a four-base-pair deletion (Zimmer, 2018 ). In other words, He only achieved part of his desired mutations in the genes. As such, both the benefits and risks to the twin girls remain unknown.
At the time of writing, this was the latest major scandal in the global race of taking advantage of CRISPR gene editing
This article provides an introduction to this special section of James Baldwin Review 7 devoted to Baldwin and film. Jackson considers Baldwin’s distinct approach to film criticism by pairing him with James Agee, another writer who wrote fiction as well as nonfiction in several genres, and who produced a large body of film criticism, especially during the 1940s. While Agee, a white southerner born almost a generation before Baldwin, might seem an unlikely figure to place alongside Baldwin, the two shared a great deal in terms of temperament and vision, and their film writings reveal a great deal of consensus in their diagnoses of American pathologies. Another important context for Baldwin’s complex relationship to film is television, which became a dominant media form during the 1950s and exerted a great influence upon both the mainstream reception of the civil rights movement and Baldwin’s reception as a public intellectual from the early 1960s to the end of his life. Finally, the introduction briefly discusses the articles that constitute this special section.
A Hollywood Love Story (as Written by James Baldwin)
D. Quentin Miller
Baldwin’s The Devil Finds Work (1976) has proven challenging since its publication because readers and critics have trouble classifying it. The challenge may be related to a common feature of Baldwin criticism, namely a tendency to compare late career works to early ones and to find them lacking: the experimental nature of later works of nonfiction like No Name in the Street (1972), The Devil Finds Work, and The Evidence of Things Not Seen (1985) does not square easily with the more conventional essays that made Baldwin famous in his early years. I attempt to reframe The Devil Finds Work not through a comparison to other Baldwin essays, but rather through a comparison to his fiction, specifically the novel Giovanni’s Room. I posit that a greater appreciation for Devil can result from thinking of it as a story, specifically the story of a failed love affair.
James Baldwin, William F. Buckley,
Jr., and the 1965 Cambridge Debate
Daniel Robert McClure
The 1965 debate at Cambridge University between James Baldwin and William F. Buckley,
Jr., posed the question: “Has the American Dream been achieved at the Expense of the
American Negro?” Within the contours of the debate, Baldwin and Buckley wrestled with the
ghosts of settler colonialism and slavery in a nation founded on freedom and equality.
Framing the debate within the longue durée, this essay examines the deep cultural currents
related to the American racial paradox at the height of the Civil Rights movement.
Underscoring the changing language of white resistance against black civil rights, the
essay argues that the Baldwin and Buckley debate anticipated the ways the U.S. would
address racial inequality in the aftermath of the civil rights era and the dawn of
neoliberalism in the 1970s.
This article explores the trend in contemporary vampire media to highlight racially-charged issues, demonstrating a consciousness of the way the vampire has been used in conjunction with racial stigmatisation. While the traditional figure of the vampire spoke strongly to late nineteenth-,and early twentieth-century white American fears of miscegenation, I argue that some contemporary vampire narratives, such as Blade (1998), Underworld (2003), and True Blood (2008-), rewrite the figure in order to question and/or undo,the link between ‘monstrosity’ and racial otherness. Central to this task is not only the repositioning and characterisation of the vampire, but also — considering that the female body was once perceived as the locus for racial purity — that of the heroine.
I Am Not Your Negro (2016) takes its direction from the notes for a book
entitled “Remember this House” that James Baldwin left unfinished, a book about his three
friends—Medgar Evers, Malcolm X, and Martin Luther King Jr.— their murders, and their
intertwining legacies. The film examines the prophetic shadow Baldwin’s work casts on
twentieth- and twenty-first-century American politics and culture. Peck compiles archival
material from Baldwin’s interviews on The Dick Cavett Show, his 1965 Cambridge lecture,
and a series of banal images indexing the American dream. Juxtaposed against this
mythology is footage of Dorothy Counts walking to school, the assassination of black
leaders and activists, KKK rallies, and the different formations of the contemporary
carceral state. Our conversation examines Peck’s role as a filmmaker and his relationship
with the Baldwin estate. Additionally, we discussed a series of aesthetic choices he
fought to include in the film’s final cut, directing Samuel L. Jackson as the voice for
the film, the similarities and shifts he wanted to document in American culture since the
1960s, and some of the criticism he has received for not emphasizing more Baldwin’s
NGOs on the ground. But there needs to be more work to think about how these
principles apply to the realm of sexual abuse, harassment and assault. In
particular, organisations and individuals should be aware of the inherent power
imbalance between senior and junior members of staff, between donors and recipients,
between aid workers and the people they are helping.
Aid operates in a world that is shaped by race, gender and class – by racism
To consider how James Baldwin resisted racialized notions of sexuality in his
first novel, Go Tell It on the Mountain, I employ a number of black feminist
critics—including Saidiya Hartman, Patricia Williams, Hortense Spillers, and Patricia
Hill Collins—to analyze three under-studied minor characters: Deborah, Esther,
and Richard. Those three characters are best understood as figures of
heterosexual nonconformity who articulate sophisticated and important critiques of rape
and marriage in America at the turn of the twentieth century. Baldwin thus
wrote subversive theories of race and sexuality into the margins of the novel, making its
style inextricable from its politics. Baldwin’s use of marginal voices was a deft and
intentional artistic choice that was emancipatory for his characters and that remains
enduringly relevant to American sexual politics. In this particularly polarizing
transition from the Obama era to the Donald J. Trump presidency, I revisit Baldwin’s
ability to subtly translate political ideas across fault lines like race, nationality, and
James Baldwin, William F. Buckley, Jr., and the Civil Rights
Born in New York City only fifteen months apart, the Harlem-raised James Baldwin
and the privileged William F. Buckley, Jr. could not have been more different,
but they both rose to the height of American intellectual life during the civil
rights movement. By the time they met in February 1965 to debate race and the
American Dream at the Cambridge Union, Buckley—a founding father of the
American conservative movement—was determined to sound the alarm about a
man he considered an “eloquent menace.” For his part, Baldwin
viewed Buckley as a deluded reactionary whose popularity revealed the sickness
of the American soul. The stage was set for an epic confrontation that pitted
Baldwin’s call for a moral revolution in race relations against
Buckley’s unabashed elitism and implicit commitment to white supremacy.
In this article I introduce readers to the story at the heart of my new book
about Baldwin and Buckley, The Fire Is Upon Us.
The article explores some aspects of the intellectual climate of the first half
of the nineteenth century and the new ideas about race and national identity.
These in turn help to explain contemporary changes in historical perspective,
particularly in respect to the English Reformation. Disraeli‘s novels reflect
the ideas of the time on the above topics and echo contemporary historians in
their views on the Reformation, its causes, and the religious and social changes
that it brought about.