Friday, March 1, 2013

Peter Kuryla: Living for Ideas



Greetings, lovers of history.  MML, HI, here.  We all know I love history and hold certain views regarding history. This young blog ain’t (LOL!) and shouldn’t be about me.  Therefore, I have interviewed numerous people and asked them to lend their voices for history’s advocacy. I now ask you, fellow lovers of history, lend me your ears.[1] Lend your ears to the various voices of history!
            And now, the first of many character profiles…
Of Polish descent and Texas blood, Dr. Peter Kuryla, an assistant professor of history here at Belmont University, is one multi-ethic individual.  He “was born in Austin, Texas, and, after [living] in Germany [where presumably his U.S. Air Force father was stationed], grew up in central Illinois and. […] Texas.”[2] Kuryla earned both his undergraduate and master’s degrees at Midwestern State University in Wichita Falls, Texas, (my mom’s hometown! Yeah!) and his doctorate at Vanderbilt University.  A veteran sensei,[3] he has “been teaching around thirteen or fourteen years if you count my work as a teaching assistant and my own classes for about nine years or so.”[4]
Kuryla can’t remember exactly when he first arrived at Belmont; however, he guesses the year 2007 when he was “fresh out of graduate school as an adjunct. (I walked the podium at Vanderbilt   [in] spring of 2007 but successfully defended in December ‘06.) I was on the job market then, and I had taught history for hire and even some political science all over Nashville, basically out of my car. I found out from a good friend of mine (a grad school friend) that Belmont needed someone to teach 20th century U.S. stuff. I taught a few things here and there part time. I left after that for a little while to teach at Vandy and then I came back full time in fall 2008”[5] (same time when I, MML, HI, first enrolled at Belmont).
The focus or avenue of history that intrigues and fascinates Kuryla the most is intellectual history. He said, “While I don’t run home and read [Martin] Heidegger every evening, I do try to live for and with ideas. I don’t want there to be too decisive a break between my impressions of the world at work and at home. Cultural historical approaches can be fascinating too, provided that they’re well written. I like to see historians take risks, and cultural historians take risks.”[6] Kuryla “was always into reading, which fits. Historians like to read, right?  I suppose I’ve always liked history in some way, but I’ve been more into philosophy and literature and different points in my life. That said, every time I’ve ventured out into those areas more intentionally (presenting at a literature or a philosophy conference for example) I realize more than ever that my home is in history. It’s comfortable.”[7]
            The following is an interview of sorts between me, HI, and Dr. Kuryla. I will list first my questions and then Kuryla’s awesome answers.
            ME: Why history?  What first got you interested?
KURYLA:  History seems to have the widest potential. The study of it can encompass pretty much any aspect of human activity, so it gives me an excuse not to specialize all that much. I like philosophy, theory, and literature—history is a big enough tent to let all of that stuff in. I first got interested in history in junior high school. I had a great teacher named Bob Robertson who piqued my interest (Yes, Robert Robertson) at St. Malachy’s Catholic School in Rantoul, Illinois. I recall trying to imagine myself in the early 19th century on Robert Fulton’s steamboats. For some reason the transportation revolution of that period sticks in my mind, probably because I had read Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer. (My aunt Mary, who was also my godmother, gave me a set of classics in American literature as a gift around that age—[Nathaniel] Hawthorne, [James Fennimore] Cooper, [Mark] Twain, stuff middle school boys would like.) When I finally did settle in for undergraduate work after a couple of years kicking around, history seemed to be a way to follow a passion rather than pursue something for usual crude utilitarian reasons that one hears: make lots of money, etc. 
ME: What role does history play in education?
KURYLA: History is central in any good education. Because the matrix of institutions and forms of life that we work in and live with (our being-in-the-world so to speak) bear the imprint of those who came before us, it’s critical to study history so that we might find good and decent ways to live and die. History gives us an ironic perspective because if we study it closely enough, we recognize that it instills in us a critical stance removed from those in the past, which gives us the capacity to judge historical events. Yet, as we look even closer we find that we are at the same time inescapably bound to that past and implicated in a history yet to be, which should humble our ambitions to judge in the first place. It’s both an absurd enterprise and an awesome responsibility, which is how life often is. A critical historical consciousness can give us some pretty powerful tools for living in a complex world. It allows us to find a balance between playfulness and piety, as Richard Hofstadter (one of my favorite historians) once put it.
ME: Do you feel history gets enough attention or focus in all levels of school?
KURYLA: I don’t think it gets enough attention at Belmont. One can take an entire degree at this institution and hardly encounter the systematic study of history. As far as other levels, my knowledge there is limited. I know there are standards at middle and high schools, and I know that teachers labor under those standards. My concern there would be the commonplace one: the usefulness and even wonder of history gets lost when students and teachers become the creatures of standardized testing bureaucracies. So while I do know that history is being taught in middle and high schools, I wonder about how it’s being taught and what is deemed important. I suppose I’m concerned with the sort of attention history gets before students show up in my classes.
ME:  Where is the gap in the average person’s historical knowledge the widest? Where is it the narrowest?
KURYLA: I assume this refers to the gap between what historians tend to know and what the general public (whatever that is) tends to know. (There’s a good book on the notion of the “average person” as an idea in the United States, by the way: Sarah Igo’s The Averaged American. She teaches at Vanderbilt and lectured here last year.) In my experience anyway, the average person’s historical knowledge doesn’t involve what historians do. I’ve had people ask me, quite seriously, why I do history given that all of it has already happened. I suspect many people believe that history is a fixed body of knowledge that historians acquire and then deliver, rather like the popular version of what medieval clergy did by bringing the gospel to the illiterate masses. Aside from that, I would say most people have very little knowledge about societies outside of the United States and Europe, the sort of thing that drives someone like my colleague Dan Schafer absolutely nuts.
ME:  In your opinion, what role does writing play in history and other disciplines?   
KURYLA: Writing is the medium through which historians express themselves, so I would qualify this a little by thinking the role that good writing plays in history and other disciplines. Historians publish more than ever, and many of those books and articles aren’t well written. In graduate school for example, I don’t recall intentional efforts to talk about style in history unless it came up as a part of another conversation about content. I would love to have read and unpacked a book like Peter Gay’s Style in History (a really good book about the writing of some classic historical stylists) but we never got around to that sort of thing. I wish we would institutionalize style as a part of history curriculum. My favorite historians and philosophers are good writers. I wish a few more historians thought the same way. I think other disciplines do a better job, but not always. I’ve read some clunky articles in literature and philosophy journals. Of course, there’s a prevailing view among some that good writing is a kind of sleight of hand that deceives the reader (the crude, pejorative sense of rhetoric), but I don’t think so. In my weaker moments, I sometimes wonder whether I prefer good writing to thorough source work and argumentation.
ME: What motivated you to tutor students in the writing center?
KURYLA: Great, unexpected question: As a practical matter, I was working in the English department at Vanderbilt at the time teaching some writing courses, and I wanted to stay connected with Belmont in whatever way I could. I’m also committed to the idea of historians as writers, which should be obvious to people but for whatever reason tends to be overlooked (not my commitment but the idea). There were conceptual reasons too. In grad school, I really got into Hayden White’s work (he’s a historian who does theory, best known for a book called Metahistory) so I became enamored with the idea of the form of a historical narrative, and that interest flowed naturally into an interest in writing. Writing has never come all that easy for me, so helping others with it helped me out quite a lot.
            ME: Who is your favorite American intellectual? Why, how, and where do you see his or her historic relevance and importance?
KURYLA: This changes from time to time, depending upon whom I’m reading, but there has been one constant: the philosopher and psychologist William James, who lived from 1842 to 1910. He was also the older brother of the novelist Henry James. There’s an old saw [old saying] about how William James wrote philosophy like a novelist, and Henry James wrote novels like a philosopher. I don’t know that this accurately describes Henry James; it doesn’t in my experience, but it works for William.  I wrote my Master’s thesis on him, have an article about him coming out next year and probably will write about him in the future. I tend to disagree with him on some things, but his writing is so wonderful: funny, poetic, rich with metaphor, sometimes dark, disarmingly personal in its way. James is relevant because he tried things out and sometimes he failed. He was confused at times, but that didn’t stop him from thinking. I admire his agnosticism, his inability to shut off live options, his acknowledgment of despair and his refusal to give in to it entirely. James is important because he changed the way we use language and think about philosophy, at least for a while. I read a book a couple of years ago about James and the broader philosophical movement (called Pragmatism) of which he was a part. The author described the ability of thinkers to make more space in what she called “the room of the idea.” That is, a good thinker makes us think about ideas in ways that we hadn’t before and in ways that stretch the meaning of words. I don’t think we’ll ever think about words like “truth” or “belief” or “value” in the same way after James, and I don’t think any American philosopher since has had the same gift for metaphor. Stanley Cavell writes lovely philosophical prose, and so did Richard Rorty, but neither is as good as James.
ME: Is there a person you admire or model yourself after?
KURYLA: I admire lots of people, but I tend to resist modeling myself after anyone. One can only fall short there. I admire lots of dead people: William and Henry James, Herman Melville, William Faulkner, Ludwig Wittgenstein, W.E.B. Du Bois, Charles Ives. I admire my father in the way that people tend to. His experiences are really interesting to me, particularly his growing up in a family with two parents who were Polish immigrants. I admire my grad school mentors, particularly Richard H. King, who I think is an incredibly generous guy with a really searching intellect. My wife Kathy comes to mind too, in that she is enormously patient and keeps me grounded and not so serious.
ME: What book of historical nature would you recommend that everyone read?
KURYLA: That’s a tough one. I would probably choose some fiction; Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man comes to mind. While the novel falls a bit flat at the end, it really is stunning for the first half or more. I’ve used it as a textbook in my African American history course because it’s a tour de force of black history and U.S. history more broadly. It’s such an exceedingly complex piece of writing about the legacies of slavery, the notion of the “folk,” the idea of class conflict, the nature of American identity, ideas of historical time and consciousness. 
ME: What book of historical nature would you recommend that any president should read?
KURYLA: I really don’t know how to answer this question. Everybody should read Moby Dick by Herman Melville. I think the president should read it too and then make all of his staffers read it. There should be a Tuesday reading group on Moby Dick in the White House.
ME: What do you read for pleasure?
KURYLA: I like to read fiction. I keep a copy of Moby Dick on my night stand and read it again every so often. Melville makes me happy. I read lots of recent American fiction: Philip Roth, Marianne Robinson, Richard Powers, Don Delillo, that sort of thing. I read biographies for fun sometimes too, Robert Caro on Lyndon Johnson, the composer John Adams’ autobiography to name a couple of recent ones. I also keep up with magazines like The New Yorker and The New York Review of Books. I read and only very rarely contribute comments to a blog called USIH (United States Intellectual History).[8]
ME: Do you bring history home with you?
KURYLA: In the sense that history refers to an attitude or approach to things, I do bring it home. I don’t bring it home in the sense that I replay my teaching or research with my wife, who might lose her mind if I did. (She does read my stuff occasionally.) Given that I study culture and ideas, it’s inevitable that my thinking about historical things bleeds into my observations about the world as I encounter it at home. I was at dinner party last night, for example, where we talked about the differences and similarities between complexly plotted 19th century novels that appeared in serial format (Dickens especially) and television shows like The Wire. I was curious about whether twenty-first century readers have a more sophisticated mental world in some ways because of their ability to absorb so much complex narrative in so short and brief a medium comparatively speaking. I guess what I mean to say is that history comes up in my conversations with friends all of the time.
ME: Does your family share your passion for history or teaching?
KURYLA: Both my parents are teachers, now retired. My dad taught jet engines for the Air Force, in active duty and as a civil servant. My mom [was a] middle school teacher [at] Catholic Schools for years and then worked as a grade school principal. I still talk about teaching with both of my parents, particularly my mom, who is especially passionate about teaching.
ME: Do you find time to be an active historian? If so, how?
KURYLA: I publish my work as often as I can and stay current in my field, which I suppose means that I’m active. Up to now, I’ve published articles and book chapters primarily, around one or two a year, and I have a couple of book projects in the works, one nearing completion and another in the early stages. I find the time because I think I have some relevant things to contribute to the field. It’s not always easy with my obligations at Belmont, but it’s a necessity because I’m a better teacher for it. It keeps me sharp and definitely influences my teaching, makes me restless. I always assign new things for that reason. I do most of my work during the summer, so finding time then isn’t so hard.
ME: What is the most important thing students leave your courses with?
KURYLA: In general education courses at least, I hope students leave a little messed up. I don’t try to be iconoclastic for the sake of it, but I do think students need to think a little more carefully about things like mortality or naïve consumerism.  I’d like the non-majors in those courses to leave with a more sophisticated sense of the world around them. In upper level courses, I try (not always successfully) to model a way of exchanging ideas. I want students to live for ideas and with ideas. I select books carefully in all of my classes because I think if students leave with anything, it would be great for them to have the experience of reading something difficult and really making an effort to understand it.
Thanks a million for reading, fellow history lovers. Stay tuned!
            MML, HI


[1] Paraphrase of William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar.
[2] Peter Kuryla, personal interview February 13-19, 2013.
[3] Japanese term for teacher.
[4] Kuryla.
[5] Kuryla.
[6] Kuryla.
[7] Kuryla.

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