Confessional

Abstract: Introduction Part I. State Formation in Early Modern England: Introduction 1. The embodiment of the state 2. The uses of political power in early modern England Conclusion Part II. The Patriarchal State: Introduction 3. Social order: poverty, dearth and disease 4. The courts and social order Conclusion Part III. The Fiscal-Military State: Introduction 5. The state and military mobilisation 6. The financing of the state Conclusion Part IV. The Confessional State: Introduction 7. The claims of the confessional state: local realities Conclusion Part V. The Dynastic State: Introduction 8. Elite formation and state formation in England, Wales and Scotland 9. London's provinces: state formation in the English-speaking Atlantic world Conclusion.

Abstract: y address this afternoon is partly the story of a personal odyssey and partly a confessional. It has three parts. The odyssey, the first part, relates to the journey I have taken to try to understand the development of mind and the forms through which its contents are made public. How my ideas about these matters evolved is a story I want to tell. The confessional, the second part, refers to the dilemmas, uncertainties, and conundrums that the ideas that I embrace have caused me. This presidential address is more about quandaries than certitudes. I intend to display my quandaries. My hope is that at least some of what puzzles me will intrigue you. Indeed, I hope it intrigues you enough to want to join me. Finally, in the third part, I want to say what I think the ideas I have explored might mean for the future of educational research, both how it is pursued and how it is presented. As some of you know, when I was in my 20s, I was a teacher of art and, before that, a painter. I moved from painting to teaching because I discovered that the children with whom I worked, economically disenfranchised African Americans living on Chicago's West Side, became more important to me than the crafting of images; for some reason I came to believe then, as I believe now, that the process of image-making could help children discover a part of themselves that mostly resides beneath their consciousness. Art was a way of displaying to the children and adolescents with whom I worked dimensions of themselves that I desperately wanted them to discover. It was my interest in children and my need to clarify my vague convictions about the educational potential of art that led me to the University of Chicago and to an initiation into the social sciences, which were at that time the style of intellectual life that defined doctoral study. The Department of Education at Chicago, while steeped in the social sciences, was also intellectually open, and I was given enough slack not only to sustain, but to pursue, my interest in the arts. While no one on the faculty worked in arts education or knew much about it, my intellectual mentors-John Goodlad, Phil Jackson, Joseph Schwab, Ben Bloom, and Bruno Bettelheim-provided support and encouragement. Later I found additional support in the work of Ernst Cassirer, Susanne Langer, Rudolf Arnheim, Michael Polanyi, John Dewey, and Nelson Goodman. My encounter with the social sciences at Chicago and my long-standing engagement in art, both as a painter and a teacher of art, forced me to confront the tension between my desire to understand and cultivate what is individual and distinctive and my wish to grasp what is patterned and regular.' My effort to resolve this tension and my interest in the cognitive character of the arts have been a career-long journey. This journey has been guided by a variety of beliefs.

Abstract: M I ICHEL FOUCAULT argued that speech is not a medium or tool through which power struggles occur but itself an important site and object of conflict (Foucault 1972b, 216). He also claimed that bringing things into the realm of discourse, as the confessional structures of the Church brought bodily pleasures into discourse and thus "created" sexuality, is not always or even generally a progressive or liberatory strategy; indeed, it can contribute to our own subordination.

Abstract: Oleg Kharkhordin has constructed a compelling, subtle, and complex genealogy of the Soviet individual that is as much about Michel Foucault as it is about Russia. Examining the period from the Russian Revolution to the fall of Gorbachev, Kharkhordin demonstrates that Party rituals - which forced each Communist to reflect intensely and repeatedly on his or her "self", an entirely novel experience for many of them - had their antecedents in the Orthodox Christian practices of doing penance in the public gaze. Individualization in Soviet Russia occurred through the intensification of these public penitential practices rather than the private confessional practices that are characteristic of Western Christianity. He also finds that objectification of the individual in Russia relied on practices of mutual surveillance among peers, rather than on the hierarchical surveillance of subordinates by superiors that characterized the West. The implications of this book expand well beyond its brilliant analysis of the connection between Bolshevism and Eastern Orthodoxy to shed light on many questions about the nature of Russian society and culture.