Vers une stylistique des imaginaires langagiers Si la description du matériau langagier mis en jeu dans tel ou tel corpus se situe à la base de toute analyse stylistique, la visée ultime de l’opération est d’approcher un style, catégorie littéraire éminemment polysémique. L’analyse stylistique, en effet, peut avoir pour finalité de dégager les habitudes langagières de tel auteur ; elle peut aussi vouloir évaluer cette pratique en l’historicisant – ne serait-ce que parce que depuis le milieu du xixe siècle, la (...) langue littéraire présente des formes particulières, et que la conception du style, dès lors, s’en trouve modifiée. C’est là le postulat méthodologique dont on partira. Le corollaire d’une telle perspective est qu’une œuvre, quelle qu’elle soit, reflète un imaginaire langagier inscrit dans tel ou tel « moment » de l’histoire littéraire. La démarche ne peut être que comparative ; elle suppose donc la constitution d’un corpus pluriel dont la pertinence est définie par une proximité d’effets, qui reposent eux-mêmes sur la récurrence de « patrons » stylistiques. Mais afin de ne pas fausser le jeu, il faut nécessairement solliciter des corpus périphériques (et on se demandera comment les définir), permettant de mettre en évidence des ressemblances et des filiations aussi bien que des divergences : ce n’est qu’ainsi que l’on rendra compte de la complexité mais aussi de l’organisation du champ littéraire à un moment donné. C’est cette méthode d’analyse stylistique que l’on essaie de mettre en œuvre à partir des romans de Samuel Beckett, Robert Pinget et Claude Simon parus dans les années 1950. (shrink)

Vers une stylistique des imaginaires langagiers Si la description du matériau langagier mis en jeu dans tel ou tel corpus se situe à la base de toute analyse stylistique, la visée ultime de l’opération est d’approcher un style, catégorie littéraire éminemment polysémique. L’analyse stylistique, en effet, peut avoir pour finalité de dégager les habitudes langagières de tel auteur ; elle peut aussi vouloir évaluer cette pratique en l’historicisant – ne serait-ce que parce que depuis le milieu du xixe siècle, la (...) langue littéraire présente des formes particulières, et que la conception du style, dès lors, s’en trouve modifiée. C’est là le postulat méthodologique dont on partira. Le corollaire d’une telle perspective est qu’une œuvre, quelle qu’elle soit, reflète un imaginaire langagier inscrit dans tel ou tel « moment » de l’histoire littéraire. La démarche ne peut être que comparative ; elle suppose donc la constitution d’un corpus pluriel dont la pertinence est définie par une proximité d’effets, qui reposent eux-mêmes sur la récurrence de « patrons » stylistiques. Mais afin de ne pas fausser le jeu, il faut nécessairement solliciter des corpus périphériques (et on se demandera comment les définir), permettant de mettre en évidence des ressemblances et des filiations aussi bien que des divergences : ce n’est qu’ainsi que l’on rendra compte de la complexité mais aussi de l’organisation du champ littéraire à un moment donné. C’est cette méthode d’analyse stylistique que l’on essaie de mettre en œuvre à partir des romans de Samuel Beckett, Robert Pinget et Claude Simon parus dans les années 1950. (shrink)

Phalènes (le mot se dit au féminin comme au masculin) : ce sont des papillons nocturnes qui apparaissent depuis l’obscurité et, lorsqu’ils n’y retournent pas, viennent s’aventurer près d’une chandelle pour s’y consumer brusquement et ne laisser, sur la table, qu’un petit tas de cendres. Ils ou elles traversent ce recueil de textes comme une figure destinée à penser, à repenser l’image. À interroger, plus précisément, l’apparition comme réel de l’image. Les phalènes sont beauté faite de fragilité, forme faite d’informe, (...) au terme de son état larvaire et de sa métamorphose, la chrysalide ne se nomme-t-elle pas imago?, symétrie faite de brisure, luxe fait d’altération, mouvement fait d’errance autant que d’obstination, désir fait de consumation. Battements d’ailes, battements du visible et battements du temps. Les phalènes emblématisent un genre nécessaire, nécessairement papillonnant, fatalement réglé sur l’imagination, du savoir à se faire sur les images. Quels rapports faut-il construire entre connaître et regarder? Est-ce reconnaître ou pas? Des hypothèses sont ici formulées à travers quelques études sur l’"image-sillage" selon Bergson, le "savoir-mouvement" selon Warburg, le "regard des mots" selon Rilke, la notion d’"image-dépouille" selon Blanchot, ou encore la façon dont Deleuze a voulu penser l’acte, faussement simple, de "faire une image". On découvre aussi comment apparaître et ressembler se nouent, mais sans se rassembler, dans le vol d’un papillon, la danse d’un psychotique, la trace d’un suaire, le moulage d’une jeune fille qui frissonne ou le coloris en grisaille d’un tableau de paysage. On tente de mieux regarder une chronophotographie de Marey, une planche du test de Rorschach, un détail de Velázquez, une draperie de Loïe Fuller, un diagramme de Beckett, une cire anatomique, un châle de prière juif ou une oeuvre d’art contemporain dédiée au génocide rwandais... On s’interroge sur le fait que l’image brûle d’apparaître, et qu’ainsi sa contribution à notre connaissance de l’histoire soit aussi problématique que nécessaire. (shrink)

J. F. C. Harrison has written that ‘for each age there is a new view of Mr Owen’, which is proof of the fertility and continuing relevance of his ideas. Not just in Britain and America but today around the world anti-poverty campaigners, birth-controllers, collectivists, communitarians, co-operators, ecologists, educationalists, environmentalists, feminists, humanitarians, internationalists, paternalistic capitalists, secularists, campaigners for social justice, trade unionists, urban planners, utopians, welfare reformers can all find something to admire and inspire in the treasure trove that is (...) the thought and actions of Robert Owen. Owen was a creative genius of global significance, a radical writer and activist of international reputation and reach who has inspired those seeking to change human society for the better. The contributors to this volume include not only many of the recognized experts on the life, work and legacy of Owen, but also work from younger scholars or scholars coming to the field afresh. The volume presents the most recent and original research on Owen. Owen notoriously (and impressively) dabbled in many spheres, and this is reflected in the its breadth of content. The unifying themes are Owen’s profile in his own time, and the relevance of his ideas for the generations that followed. His importance for educational and social philosophy, for political economy and for the political theory of socialism are all discussed, as are his contribution as a philanthropic employer, his political activities and the specificities of his historical context. (shrink)

In a phenomenology of acting, Phillip Zarrilliconsiders acting as a 'question' to be explored in the studio, and then reflected upon. This book is a vital response to Jerzy Grotowski's essential question: "How does the actor 'touch that which is untouchable?'" Phenomenology invites us to listen to "the things themselves", to be attentive to how we sensorially, kinaesthetically, and affectively engage with acting as a phenomenon and process. Using detailed first-person accounts of acting across a variety of dramaturgies and performances (...) from Beckett to newly co-created performances to realism, it provides an account of how we 'do' or practice phenomenology when training, performing, directing, or teaching. Zarrilli brings a wealth of international and intercultural experience as a director, performer, and teacher to this major new contribution both to the practices of acting, and how we can reflect in depth on those practices. An advanced study for actors, directors, and teachers of acting thatis ideal for both the training/rehearsal studio and research, a phenomenology of acting is an exciting move forward in the philosophical understanding of acting as an embodied practice. n reflect in depth on those practices. An advanced study for actors, directors, and teachers of acting thatis ideal for both the training/rehearsal studio and research, a phenomenology of acting is an exciting move forward in the philosophical understanding of acting as an embodied practice. (shrink)

Schopenhauer, "le vieux prophete", disait Nietzsche. Paru en 1819 dans l'obscurite la plus totale, son ouvrage majeur, Le Monde comme Volonte et comme representation, lui a valu d'atteindre en 1900 a une celebrite posthume telle qu'aucun penseur n'en a jamais connue - influence que son extension meme a fini par occulter aujourd'hui. Car Schopenhauer a fait cristalliser la crise des croyances qui marque la fin du XIXe siecle, dessinant pour l'avenir la physionomie de l'homme moderne. Un homme qui sous un (...) ciel vide eprouve dans le ressentiment la condition qu'il s'est lui-meme assignee : un intellect regi secretement par des pulsions irrationnelles, une concurrence vitale qui l'isole de ses semblables et de la nature, une sexualite dominatrice mais sans joie, une irresponsabilite aveugle vis-a-vis de son propre comportement comme de l'histoire collective, bref l'enracinement de son existence entiere dans une inconscience fondamentale. Nietzsche et Freud n'ont pas ete les seuls heritiers de Schopenhauer qui a remodele ce territoire invisible sur lequel la litterature edifie son discours. Aussi est-il present, on l'ignore generalement, dans la genealogie de tant de grands ecrivains - de Tolstoi, Strindberg, Maupassant, Conrad, Proust, Pirandello, jusqu'a Kafka, Thomas Mann, Celine, Beckett, Bernhard. Ce sont les voies de ce renouvellement inventif qui sont ici tracees. (shrink)

Liminaire -- Je serais content d'en savoir plus -- Un parcours philosophique -- Jeunesses -- Rhétorique -- L'École d'Athènes -- La fin d'une civilisation et l'orgasme -- Un héros de la Raison -- De Baïus, Jansenius et Geulincx à Samuel Beckett et Pascal Quignard -- Une fenêtre ouverte... sur la statue de Husserl -- La Dispute du Saint-Sacrement -- Itinerarium mentis -- Il y a -- La décision -- Ceci n'est pas une conversation -- Les expériences naturelles -- Le (...) standard technique et l'abstraction juridique -- Le scepticisme légitime? -- Une conversation première -- Intervalles -- La passiveté comme grain de folie -- La double affection philosophique -- Le grouillement -- De la consistance du Moi à l'effacement de soi -- Le caritatif -- L'insomnie -- La vérité recevable -- Les tomates-crevettes d'Emmanuel Lévinas ou l'Autre Banquet -- Bifurcations -- Style de vie. (shrink)

This article represents the author’s reflections on the book by Karl Sigmund “Exact Thinking in Demented Times. The Vienna Circle and the Epic Quest for the Foundations of Science” and the fate of the Vienna Circle. Sigmund paints a vivid portrait of the Vienna Circle against the background of the difficult historical period in which its members lived and worked. The Vienna Circle established the tradition of liberating consciousness and science from metaphysics. But the participants of the Vienna Circle and (...) their entourage did not manage to get rid of the humanistic issues, despite the declaration of strict scientific character. The author of the article draws attention to the internal contradiction between strict scientific topics and the existential-humanistic perception of this topic by the Vienna Circle’s authors and their likeminded people, and by Sigmund himself. The author concludes that it was thanks to this contradiction the Vienna Circle became not only a stage in the development of philosophical science, but also had a broad cultural influence on art, politics, architecture, museums, etc. The historical and philosophical tradition connects the activities of the Vienna Circle with the beginning of the divergence between the philosophical scientific and humanistic traditions in the understanding of philosophy, and the controversy between R. Carnap and M. Heidegger is an important point in this process. But Sigmund’s book gives the impression that this is not the divergence strictly scientific and humanistic traditions, but the difference between two humanistic traditions, one of them tends to express its thoughts strictly analytically. (shrink)

Background : researchers and sponsors increasingly confront the issue of whether participants in a clinical trial should have post-trial access (PTA) to the trial drug. Legislation and guidelines are inconsistent, ambiguous or silent about many aspects of PTA. Recent research highlights the potential importance of systematic reviews (SRs) of reason-based literatures in informing decision-making in medicine, medical research and health policy. Purpose: to systematically review reasons why drug trial participants should, or need not be ensured PTA to the trial drug (...) and the uses of such reasons. Data sources: databases in science/medicine, law and ethics, thesis databases, bibliographies, research ethics books and included publications’ notes/bibliographies. Publication selection: a publication was included if it included a reason as above. See article for detailed inclusion conditions. Data extraction and analysis: two reviewers extracted and analyzed data on publications and reasons. Results: of 2060 publications identified, 75 were included. These mentioned reasons based on morality, legality, interests/incentives, or practicality, comprising 36 broad (235 narrow) types of reason. None of the included publications, which included informal reviews and reports by official bodies, mentioned more than 22 broad (59 narrow) types. For many reasons, publications differed about the reason’s interpretation, implications and/or persuasiveness. Publications differed also regarding costs, feasibility and legality of PTA. Limitations: reason types could be applied differently. The quality of reasons was not measured. Conclusion: this review captured a greater variety of reasons and of their uses than any included publication. Decisions based on informal reviews or sub-sets of literature are likely to be biased. Research is needed on PTA ethics, costs, feasibility and legality and on assessing the quality of reason-based literature. (shrink)

continent. 2.1 (2012): 40–43. Lance Olsen is a professor of Writing and Literature at the University of Utah, Chair of the FC2 Board of directors, and, most importantly, author or editor of over twenty books of and about innovative literature. He is one of the true champions of prose as a viable contemporary art form. He has just published Architectures of Possibility (written with Trevor Dodge), a book that—as Olsen's works often do—exceeds the usual boundaries of its genre as it (...) explores his interests in narrative theory and pedagogy. The book is a kind of “anti-textbook;” a performative polemic against the stale, conservative and monolithic conception of the literary that so often dominates institutional discourse around creative writing. The following interview takes the occasion of AoP's publication as a chance to speak with Olsen about the book itself as well as to engage with larger, unanswerable, questions about the futures and intersections of literature and education. —Ben Segal INTERVIEW: 1) First, I want to start before the beginning, with the title. I’m really fascinated by the concept it conjures. Can you say something about innovative/experimental/(choose your adjective) literature in relation to both ideas around architecture and possibility? Innovative or experimental are tremendously fraught adjectives, needless to say. But for the purposes of my book, they modify a fiction concerned with the questions: What is fiction? What can it do, and how, and why? Now, of course, what looks “innovative” or “experimental” to one at 17 may not be what looks “innovative” or “experimental” to one at 27 or 57, and what looks “innovative” or “experimental” in 1812 may not be what looks “innovative” or “experimental” in 2012. A certain existential and historical perspectivism is always at work. But I think it’s fair to say that innovative and experimental usually refer to a narrativity that includes a self-reflective awareness of and engagement with theoretical inquiry, concerns, and obsessions, as well as a sense of being in conversation with fiction across space and time. One can't create challenging writing in a vacuum; it has to challenge in relation to something. So contemporary writers interested in the subject are not only in pursuit of the innovative, but are also always-already writing subsequent to it—writing, that is, in its long wake. Architectures of Possibility conceives of creativity as a possibility space, a locale just outside our comfort zones where we can and should take multiple chances in order to imagine in new ways, explore fresh strategies for finding and cultivating ideas, re-view what it is we’re doing and why, better understand what Samuel Beckett meant when he wrote: “Try again. Fail again. Fail better.” It reminds us that there are other ways of narrating our worlds and ourselves than those we have inherited from the entertainment industry, the government, academia, previous writing, and so on. 2) AoP seems to be directed at several audiences (and purposes) simultaneously. What I mean is that it seems at times a polemic in favor of innovative literature, at other times a creative writing textbook, and still other times a guide to the network of publishers, journals, and programs that make up the current world of non-mainstream literary art in the U.S. In my mind, Architectures is a theorized anti-textbook about writing. Most textbooks on the subject (think of Janet Burroway’s Writing Fiction: A Guide to Narrative Craft , taught in most creative-writing classroom across the country) orchestrate how to construct conventional stories. They instruct from a place of power how to generate familiar stories that are repeated so often that many of us begin to take them as the primary model for narrativity, if not unconsciously as a kind of truth. The result, as Brian Kiteley points out in 3 A.M. Epiphany (one of the only other alternative textbooks about innovative writing around, by the way, and a tremendous repository of exercises), is merely competent texts. Architectures problematizes that gesture by outlining what conventional narrativity looks like, urging writers to think about its ideology of form as well as content, and invites them to imagine writing, not as a set of relatively stable conventions, but, rather, as a possibility space where everything can and should be thought, tried, challenged. It thereby rhymes with Roland Barthes’s definition of literature: the question minus the answer—which is to say Architectures poses complications to the act of writing rather than solutions. 3) One of the most notable things about the book is the use of interviews. This is also one of the reasons that I think the book works so well for a variety of audiences—that anyone with even a passing interest in the state and future of literature will have an interest in your conversation with people like Ben Marcus, Samuel Delany, and Lydia Davis. I was hoping you could just talk a little about how you chose these subjects to interview, how you edited the interview material, and which answers you received struck you the most. Experimentalism , like realism , wants to appear in the plural. The idea of gathering more than forty interviews (with the help of my awesome collaborator, Trevor Dodge, himself a fine innovative author) represents an attempt to suggest that: the wide, rich, exciting opportunities inherent in the term. There are interviews with younger writers, elder statesmen in the field, publishers, editors, hypermedia artists, comic book makers, and so on: Joe Wenderoth, Carole Maso, Scott McCloud, Nick Montfort, Kathy Acker, et al. Trevor and I decided to do flash interviews: short, concentrated Q&As, each focusing on a particular troubling of writing. We only lightly edited the results to match the manuscript’s overall style, and every interview arrived as a surprise housing several unexpected insights. Three brief examples: Michael Mejia, when asked about what he dreads when setting about writing: “Dread is an interesting word here. I associate it less with loathing or aversion, I suppose, than with a kind of productive fear. Do I dread a project’s failure? Sure, who doesn’t? Who wants to waste time on something that comes to nothing, or is unreadable? But then, what do these terms mean, and who or what defines a work as a ‘failure,’ as ‘waste,’ as ‘unreadable’? Should a work actually try to interrogate and exceed these conceptual limitations? My tendency is to write into dread in order to reveal to myself, as much as to any reader that may come after, the varied complacencies that make other, mostly more conventional writings, readable. It’s at the frontier between readability (security) and unreadability (terror) that I want to live creatively.” Carole Maso, when asked what she’d like a sentence to accomplish: “I think a sentence can if allowed carry emotional and intellectual states as they flee, as they come and go, an escaping essence difficult to hold in other ways. In this way I think the sentence can work as a phrase of music does, sounding something large and elusive in us. Alternatively it can provide sometimes a stability, an essence, a moment of being. Unlike music the sentence also of course carries language with all its potential for meaning making and memory traces and association with it as well. I probably love the accretion of sentences most—those patterns, that shimmer, that resonance.” Shelley Jackson, when asked what is innovative about the innovative: “The purpose of the innovative is, I think, to wake us up. We are not quite alive, most of the time; we occupy a sort of cartoon version of our lives, its lines made smooth by repetition. Writing can open the seams in that world, reintroduce us to the real lives that we have forgotten. Maybe all good writing is innovative in some sense, in that it shows or tells or makes you feel something you never felt before—something for which you have no cartoon ready.” 4) You talk a little about N. Katherine Hayles’s concept of Media Specific Analysis and propose the supplemental notion of Medium Specific Generation—basically taking Hayles and applying her thought from the perspective of the writer. I’ve been trying to develop somewhat related theoretical frameworks, so I was really excited to come upon this section of the book. I’m wondering if you can talk a little more about this idea and, in general, about the potentials that you see as being opened up by writers engaging with and exploiting different media as literary platforms? “Lulled into somnolence by five hundred years of print,” Hayles urges in her (at least for me) transformative 2004 essay, “Print is Flat, Code is Deep,” “literary analysis should awaken to the importance of media-specific analysis, a mode of critical attention which recognizes that all texts are instantiated and that the nature of the medium in which they are instantiated matters.” She goes on to argue critics should learn to become more attuned to the materiality of the medium under investigation—which is to say a story isn’t a story isn’t a story. Rather, the “same” story remediated through film is intrinsically different from that story remediated through conventionally printed books is intrinsically different from that story remediated through hypermedia. “Materiality,” Hayles goes on, “is reconceptualized as the interplay between a text’s physical characteristics and its signifying strategies, a move that entwines instantiation and signification at the outset.” My point in Architectures is simply to emphasize Media Specific Generation: the idea that when writing you should be cognizant, not only of the thematics of the text you are working on, and, as it were, the internal components of its narrativity (character, language, plot, etc.), but also of the material embodiment those components take, and, perhaps more important, the material embodiment those components can take. The idea that the way texts matter matters isn’t something usually addressed in any significant way in creative-writing classrooms and textbooks. It may almost go without saying such experimentation with typography, layout, and white space has a long tradition—certainly one that tracks back at least as far as Guillaume Apollinaire’s early twentieth-century Calligrammes , Laurence Sterne’s textually ribald eighteenth-century Tristram Shandy , although one could arguably plot a hypothetical trajectory that reaches to ancient Greek romances like Achilles Tatius’ second-century Leucippe and Clitophon . Experiments into atomic materiality and digital immateriality bracket the definition of “book” at the same time they highlight Michael Martone’s prediction of its present future as increasingly viral, collaborative, and ephemeral. Or, as Matthew Battles points out: the future of the “book” has already arrived, and it is “ethereal and networked” rather than “an immutable brick.”While conventional writing and reading practices are conceptualized as private, individual, relatively fixed experiences, many of the new forms indicate that writing and reading—from production through dissemination—are rapidly becoming public, collective, incrementally unfixed experiences. That strikes me as an astonishing set of opportunities for a writer to investigate. 5) Another concept you elaborate in AoP is that of limit texts, basically texts that, once you read them, change what you imagine as the shape/horizon/potential of literature. You provide a fantastic reading list of limit texts at the end of AoP. I was hoping you could talk about a few of them in terms of how they specifically operate as limit texts for you—how they expand your understanding of what literature could be or do. Karl Jaspers coined the word Grenzsituationen (border/limit situations) to describe existential moments accompanied by anxiety in which the human mind is forced to confront the restrictions of its existing forms—moments that make us abandon, fleetingly, the securities of our limitedness and enter new realms of self-consciousness. Death, for example. Limit texts are a variety of disturbance that carries various elements of narrativity to their brink so the reader can never quite imagine them in the same terms again. Once you’ve taken one down from the shelf, you’ll never be able to put it back up again. They won’t leave you alone. They will continue to work on your imagination long after you’ve read them. Simply by being in the world, they ask us to embrace difficulty, freedom, radical skepticism. One of the most important for me is Samuel Beckett’s The Unnamable . Instead of establishing conventional setting and building traditional character, from its first words it unsettles both: “Where now? Who now? When now?” That first trio of question marks broadcasts the thematics of the writing (“novel” may be too strong a word) that will follow: it is all about a voice (or, perhaps, voices, about the grammatical mistake of the first-person pronoun), a consciousness (maybe, again, too strong a word), often genderless, removed from place and chronology and socioeconomic reality, hovering in a state of perpetual aporia. All it knows is what it doesn’t know, and its not-knowing is blackly, sardonically comic. The Unnamable is the embodiment of an unreliable narrator—a subject position that can’t trust itself, let alone be trusted by a reader. It contradicts, takes back, digresses, undoes what it just did, forgets, lies, hallucinates gloriously. The language is abstract, disembodied, devoid of sensory data, grayish rather than painterly in texture. Without knowing this passage is from a novel, a reader might well conclude s/he were reading a patch of (anti-)Cartesian philosophy. It might be helpful to conceive of what Beckett is doing as post-genre writing, then, or perhaps what Raymond Federman referred to as critifiction—a mode that blurs conventional distinctions between theory and narrative. In completely different register, and much more recently, Anne Carson’s Nox blew me away. It takes the form of an elegy for her older brother, whom she didn’t know well and who died unexpectedly while on the run from the law in Europe. The thing itself arrives in a box that simulates a thick book, as well as the brother’s textual coffin. Open it, and inside you discover, not a codex, but an accordioned series of “pages” that folds out into an arrangement that suggests an ancient scroll (Carson is, perhaps illuminatingly, a professor of classics) made up of shards of her brother’s letters, old photographs, tickets, Carson’s observations, Catullus’ poem 101 (the one addressed to the Roman poet’s dead brother, a doubling of Carson’s situation), and extensive dictionary entries on all the words that compose that poem. The aggregate produces a collage about the impossibilities of aggregates, the impossibilities of understanding fully, of capturing absences in language. At times Nox feels less an example of what most readers consider a book than something closer to a three-dimensional work of assemblage art. It’s a beautiful mechanism for contemplating Media Specific Analysis, for urging us all to be more extreme. 6) Finally, I want to talk a little about pedagogy and institutions. I’m less interested in questions like “Are MFA programs good for writers?” than in questions about how your role as teacher informs your understanding of literature and your writing practice. I’m also very curious about your take on how commercially marginal literary art is largely patronized by large state institutions and at the same time often imagines itself as a critical and even possibly revolutionary practice. How have your own positions within universities and university-affiliated organizations shaped your thinking about them and about innovative literature? I can imagine in many ways it might make you even more critical. And (I know, another ‘and’...) how does AoP (especially given its relation to Rebel Yell , your previous text on creative writing) reflect your personal history and experience as a teacher and member of communities that are largely defined by institutions? In the classroom, I try to generate the pedagogical field I would have liked to have inhabited as a student, but didn’t. Roland Barthes has a lovely line about this: “We need to substitute for the magisterial [classroom] space of the past (the word delivered by the master from the pulpit above with the audience below, the flock, the sheep, the herd)—a less upright, less Euclidean space where no one, neither teacher nor students, would ever be in his final place.” Easier said than done, of course, but an important life project for all who think of themselves as educators. My own classroom, my own writing, and Architectures of Possibility itself attempt to create the sort of possibility space where, as I mentioned at the outset of our interview, everything should be thought, tried, challenged; where everything rhymes with Roland Barthes’s definition of literature: the question minus the answer. I’m not sure I could write what I’m writing now without the conversations I have almost daily with my students, the conversations they have with each other, the conversations we all have with the texts we study. Especially in light of the paradigm shift over the last, say, quarter century from academia as intellectual exploration to academia as McDonaldized trade school, the irony isn’t lost on me concerning the discrepancy between the safe harbor innovative authors find there and the cultural critiques those authors launch through their writing and pedagogical work. In 2001, I quit my full professorship at one institution precisely because of my disappointment over what had happened to the learning environment there. I had no intentions of reentering the field. In 2007, however, the University of Utah approached me, and I found myself in an environment much more hospitable to the sort of work I want to do—teaching experimental narrative theory and practice. It isn’t by any means a simple irony. One could easily argue innovative writing and pedagogy represents the trace of the paradigm Barthes suggests, and that trace is tremendously productive in all kinds of ways. Innovative writing has never and will never change the world in any large, macrocosmic way. But we’ve all had our lives changed, one by one, by an encounter with a difficult, rich, resonant piece of prose, poetry, music, art, you name it. We’ve all had our lives changed at the ahistorical, microcosmic moment by a class we’ve taken, a teacher we’ve studied with, to such an extent that we became, quite literally, different people. I just came across a stunning set of sentences from Derrida on the topic: “What is education? The death of the parents.” That’s what we’re all up to in the innovative, be it in written texts or the texts we call our classrooms or the texts we call our politics: trying to disrupt what both can and can’t be disrupted, trying to undo what both can and can’t be undone, continuously. (shrink)

continent. 1.2 (2011): 136-140. In early 2011, Cow Heavy Books published The Official Catalog of the Library of Potential Literature , a compendium of catalog 'blurbs' for non-existent desired or ideal texts. Along with Erinrose Mager, I edited the project, in a process that was more like curation as it mainly entailed asking a range of contemporary writers, theorists, and text-makers to send us an entry. What resulted was a creative/critical hybrid anthology, a small book in which each page opens (...) to a new iteration of textual desire. These texts explore the material possibilities of the book. Somewhat parallel to the call of N. Katherine Hayles who, in her book Writing Machines , urges literary theorists to take up the practice of Medium Specific Analysis (to account for the way the medium in which it is presented conditions or at least bears on a literary text). I see in the imagined works of The Official Catalog a call for the innovative writers of today to become Medium-Responsive. This would mean thinking through the specific (materially constrained) possibilities offered by the media in which texts are presented, and in thinking of the literary text as a kind of art in the greater context of other arts and the book as a medium situated within the context of many other media. In doing so, the contemporary writer refutes the chorus of critics who lament the death of the book by consistently reinvigorating literary innovation. The following are selections from The Official Catalog of the Library of Potential Literature that show possible paths for (thinking about) new writing that engages with its medium. —Ben Segal, Editor THE CUBE Even the most radical non-linear texts have tended to exploit or subvert only the sequential possibilities of print—from the continuous loop of Joyce's Finnegans Wake to the shuffled cards of Marc Saporta's Composition No. 1 —but The Cube takes such multiplicities to an entirely new level. Set in a grid, the book's words can be read conventionally, across the page, as well as down each column—with either route making complete grammatical sense. But they can also be read as stacked strata and mined like lexical core samples through the layered pages of the book. Each path tells the same story from a different perspective (the narrative, naturally, hinges on the potential outcomes of a throw of cubed dice). By opening up the z-axis to reading in this way, The Cube recognizes the book as a three-dimensional sculptural space. Taking its lead from Armand Schwerner's (If Personal) and Raymond Queneau's Cent mille milliards de poèmes , The Cube reads like a experiment by Christian Bök precision printed by Emily McVarish. Craig Dworkin is the editor, most recently, of The Consequence of Innovation: 21st Century Poetics (Roof Books, 2008), The Sound of Poetry/The Poetry of Sound , with Marjorie Perloff (U. Chicago Press, 2009), and Against Expression: An Anthology of Conceptual Writing , with Kenneth Goldsmith (Northwestern UP, 2010). He teaches at the University of Utah. HE GOES In He Goes , we read notes, letters and e-mails from a scholar father to his novelist daughter. We read of the father's musings on Beckett, on Pinter, on Anne Frank; his description of a woman hanging laundry from a line. We read about his journey toward dying, followed by a brief, third person account of his death, and his obituary. Then a long series of blank pages that demand to be read in real time, non-sentence by non-sentence, blank page by blank page. Finally—and it is here that this peculiar little book begins to soar—the dead father writes to his as-of-yet-still-living daughter. He does not write from death. He does not write from life. The words unprint, unstamp, unkindle. Still, they require no translation. The father "writes" (for lack of a better word) about the serendipitous, the commonplace; he recommends another book. He jokes. He asks his daughter how her stomach is. He says forget about presence in absence, darling; screw words as memorial and the guys in garbage cans and loss as redemption and I can't go on I must go on. He goes, "Love, Fodder." He goes, "incidentally." He goes, "I thought you might like to know." Elizabeth Graver is the author of a story collection, Have You Seen Me? , and three novels: Unravelling ; The Honey Thief ; and Awake . Her work has been anthologized in Best American Short Stories , Best American Essays , and Prize Stories: the O. Henry Awards . She teaches at Boston College. THE PAPER ARCHIVIST A stunning package and a triumph of imagination, The Paper Archivist at times looks to be less a book than an abstract expressionist painting. Softly bound, its contents unfold to a single sheet of uneven thickness and texture—a canvas splattered with colored lines, stickers, broken sentences, and nonsense pictographs. But by following the directions to fold, dip, smell, rub, scratch, and tear the sheet according to the contingencies of the weather and using only the objects at hand, the reader slowly brings the forces hidden in the noise into a glorious sculptural convergence, processing a different story and shape each time. This is the rare book that continues to stir, whirl, and pop on every new reading. Sean Higgins blogs at BOMBlog where he is responsible for the column Volumes and Territories, as well as Ghost Island , a fledgling collaborative intellectual collective. THE SLOW BOOK The Slow Book , written by an anonymous author at the dawn of literacy, on a minor planet (otherwise notable only as the source of that exceptionally hardy, not very tasty grain called “shef” sowed on hostile planets as an early step to colonization), and encoded into a series of punctures on a strip of copper coiled inside a clever device, something between a player piano and an old-fashioned film projector, is being released into print, as was the author’s intention, at a rate of one word per century (local time). Each word is, across the Forty Galaxies, agreed to be uncannily apt for the century in which it appears—even “of,” in a century during which the highest value was attached to fidelity, whether to ideals, worlds, or romantic love; even “the,” which governed two centuries, one extraordinarily materialistic, during which advances in propulsion and navigation accelerated the exchange of exceptional objects between the remotest planets of the Forty, and one in which the central concern, both of philosophers and the common man, was whether, in an age of rapidly proliferating hypothetical worlds, anyone or anything concretely existed at all. Even those words published long before interstellar contact can be seen in retrospect to have transgalactic pertinence. As a result, attempts to abstract the machine from its publishers, Hobson & Hui, in order to “predict the future” for insight or gain by “fast- forwarding” the copper strip have been many and ingenious. While, in centuries of skepticism (“maybe”), or of unrest (“go”) the book has been nearly forgotten, in others it seems to haunt every thought, every deed, despite the fact that the subject of The Slow Book is still unclear. So far only a few sentences exist in print; everyone knows them, can quote them, offer the standard exegeses and assorted heresies; yet certainties are the stuff of adolescence; mature readers are forced to acknowledge that these sentences are probably only a preamble to the main argument. They contain no proper nouns, nor can we identify any definite theme. There is even disagreement about their tone, whether coolly ironic, as some insist, or ardent. The appearance of an unusual grammatical case, sometimes called the future pluperfect continuous, used to describe events that at some future point will have always been true (but are not yet)—hitherto known to appear only in the synthetic dogmas of the Thanatographical Society, and in certain highly circumscribed religious contexts—has suggested to some scholars that the Slow Book was originally intended for ritual use, but the proximity of the usage to a term designating a small hand plow that, as Pott and Mielcke have convincingly shown, would have borne a distinctly obscene double meaning in its culture of origin in the author’s time, argues otherwise. It is likewise unclear whether the situation that seems to be—with teasing incompleteness—sketched out in these few lines is intended as an illustration of general principles, a case study, a dramatic scene, or an extended metaphor. In short, we have no idea what The Slow Book is about. In our own time, we believe that it is almost certainly a work of fiction, but that may be because we live in the century of “if”. In each age, perhaps, we see the book we most need to read. Some have dared to suggest that the metal strip is blank until, with millennial fanfare, it advances into its new position, that no ur-text exists, that the book itself is brought into being—written—by our need. But that is exactly the sort of thing we would believe, in 7645. Shelley Jackson is the author of the story collection The Melancholy of Anatomy , the novel Half Life , and hypertexts including Patchwork Girl . The recipient of a Howard Foundation grant, a Pushcart Prize, and the 2006 James Tiptree Jr Award, she has also written and illustrated several children's books, including The Old Woman and the Wave ; Sophia, the Alchemist's Dog ; and Mimi's Dada Catifesto . Her stories and essays have appeared in Conjunctions , McSweeney's , The Paris Review , and Cabinet Magazine . In 2004 she launched her project SKIN , a story published in tattoos on 2095 volunteers. THE BOOK OF SOUNDS The Book of Sounds is just that: a book of sounds made when letters are construed in new ways to bring forth out of the alphabet new forms of speech. A book meant to be read out loud, The Book of Sounds is not unlike Laurie Anderson's O Superman or Brian Eno's Music for Airports in its attempt to make music out of the most primary and simplest of methods. It breaks language down to its barest bones and makes out of the page a drum that has never before been beaten upon. Peter Markus is the author of a novel, Bob, or Man on Boat (Dzanc Books) as well as two books of short fiction, Good, Brother and The Singing Fish , both of which were published by Calamari Press. A new collection of stories, We Make Mud , is now available from Dzanc Books. PARADISE OF THE BLIND by Celan Solen Although the reclusive Celan Solen published his first and only book in 1963—paying out-of-pocket for a limited edition of the slim collection No One May Have the Same Knowledge Again —he remained in American obscurity for almost three decades. In 1992 a micro-press in Istanbul brought out No One in Turkish. A German translation followed in 1995. Soon it became clear in literary circles Solen was a world-class (if highly unclassifiable) artist—lyrical, dense, enigmatic—who could undo the conventional short story in 397 words by inventing impossible worlds housed in impossible whirls (in “Small Sadnesses,” a single chartreuse tree frog in Borneo unknowingly holds time together by its very presence in the universe, while each letter of its tale refers, not to itself, but to the one preceding it in the alphabet). By his disappearance last year, Solen was considered master by a generation of writers and critics (except, alas, for those gentlemen in the Swedish Academy). Imagine, then, that generation’s delight at the discovery, locked away in the author’s safe-deposit box, of his second and final composition. Had Lynch’s Lost Highway been book instead of film, and had it been penned by Beckett at his least certain, revised by Barthelme at his most formally deranged, and typeset by Derrida at his most semiotically catastrophic, the result might have been something like Paradise of the Blind : interlacing narratives of a man composed of borrowed organs (whose most cheerless and difficult to locate, god, could only have been invented by an empty heart), a nonexistent medieval painting blamed for the ruin of future hope, and the spread of a philosophy that holds earth a mistake constantly recurring in the dream of a fish lying on the floor of the Atlantic (if the fish wakes, our world winks off)—all contained in a text packed with typed-over passages, torn postcards, poems that can be deciphered only when held up to a mirror, pages ornamented with trompe-l'œil paperclips and coffee stains and buzzing houseflies, some busy with illegible runes that dissolve when exposed to light, three that smell like roses or lemons (depending on whether a man or woman is reading), two that stain with the bloody fingerprints of the those who handle them, one that ignites when brushed with breath, thirteen sewn from baby skin, one that moans when touched, and one that screams—yet all without mass, unimaginable, and invisible. Lance Olsen is author of more than 20 books of and about innovative fiction, including, most recently, the novels Calendar of Regrets (2010) and Head in Flames (2009). He teaches experimental narrative theory and practice at the University of Utah. SUPERSTRUCTURE! by Barbara D'Albi As soon as I opened the third drawer of Barbara D'Albi's wooden novel, everything became hopeless. Now in Ithaca, there was no going back. And it wasn't just the intricate series of shelves, hinged doors and locked drawers which D'Albi layered into the book, no, lo, I was constructed anew by the story. Who else but D'Albi to imagine a God who becomes a carpenter and gets killed?! And makes it good! You want stories? D'Albi is a skyscraper, built with planes and levers. Momentarily I wondered where I could shelve this book, and then I thought: no matter; I couldn't put it down. Adam Robinson lives in Baltimore, where he runs Publishing Genius. He is the author of Adam Robison and Other Poems and Say, Poem. 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Phonetic study of the sound "h" especially as it relates to Mongolian languages.

Les philosophes et les clowns se ressembleraient-ils? L'hypothèse est peut-être moins incongrue qu'il n'y paraît. Elle est même suggérée par... des philosophes, en particulier ceux qui, observant ce que devient l'individu humain depuis le début du terrible XXe siècle, interrogent sa foncière ambivalence. Le clown serait-il le modèle d'un sujet devenu bancal mais rusé, dépassé mais calculateur, égaré mais lucide, épuisé mais inventeur d'espérances? Le temps des clowns que décrivent les philosophes et écrivains ici invités (Ernst Bloch, Siegfried Kracauer, Walter (...) Benjamin, Franz Kafka, Theodor Adorno, Samuel Beckett, Hannah Arendt, Günther Anders) n'est pas celui des Lumières, et il n'est pas non plus celui des transports romantiques ou tragiques du XIXe. Il témoigne d'une expérience historique spécifique, qui pourrait bien être encore, pour une grande part, la nôtre."--Page 4 of cover. (shrink)

- Dites-moi au moins l'argument de la querelle. - Oh! il est si simple qu'il paraît pauvre face à tant de points de vue qui aménagent plus ou moins une dilution du cinéma dans l'art contemporain, et son histoire à l'intérieur de l'histoire de l'art. La projection vécue d'un film en salle, dans le noir, le temps prescrit d'une séance plus ou moins collective, est devenue et reste la condition d'une expérience unique de perception et de mémoire, définissant son spectateur (...) et que toute situation autre de vision altère plus ou moins. Et cela seul vaut d'être appelé "cinéma". - Vous ne suggérez tout de même pas une primauté de l'expérience du spectateur de cinéma sur les expériences multiples du visiteur-spectateur des images en mouvement de l'art dont on tend à le rapprocher? - Evidemment non. Il s'agit simplement de marquer qu'en dépit des passages opérant de l'une aux autres et inversement, ce sont là deux expériences trop différentes pour qu'on accepte de les voir confondues. On n'oblige personne à se satisfaire de la "vision bloquée" de la salle de cinéma. Ce "désert de Cameraland", disait Smithson, ce "coma permanent". On peut préférer la flânerie, la liberté du corps et de l'esprit, la méditation libre, l'éclair de l'idée. On peut aussi, comme Beckett, se sentir "mieux assis que debout et couché qu'assis". Simplement, chaque fois cela n'est pas pareil, on ne sent ni on ne pense vraiment les mêmes choses. Bref, ce n'est pas le même corps. D'où la nécessité de marquer des pôles opposés pour mieux saisir tant de positions intermédiaires. (shrink)

Zakat is a monetary form of religious worship that establishes a bridge between a rich and a poor, helps those who are in need and contributes to peace and tranquillity within a society. When zakat is collected properly under a government control and transmitted to those who deserve, it helped to decrease the gap between the poor and the rich, supported activities of social solidarity and revived the economy as well. Malaysia after its independence in 1957 has developed an interest (...) in Islamic practices by drawing attention to a distinctive practice with the public zakat system. Even though a national- central system of zakat could not be established due to the federal structure of the country, the collection and distribution of zakat has been centralized on a state level. Parts of the practice are being criticized, reviewed and new regulations are introduced. Unlike Malaysia, the zakat practice in Turkey is out of state control, thus it hinders zakat from achieving its real purpose. There is a need to make use of the well-functioning zakat systems around the world and establish a public zakat system in our country so that we can make the most of the benefits that zakat has for individuals and societies. This article aims to be a step in that direction. -/- SUMMARY Zakat is one of the main forms of worship and is at the same time one of the main sources for the state budget in Islam. It aims at making sure that the rich –those with higher wealth and income– protects the poor and the powerless and through this it contributes to the peace in the society. In the Islamic creed wealth in reality belongs to Allah; therefore, those who live an affluent life should not attribute their wealth to themselves alone and help those who, for whatever reason, are unable to meet their needs. Because there is a social dimension to this form of worship, it is the duty of the head of state to collect the zakat and distribute it to the right people. Historically this duty has taken different forms and today, many Muslim countries sustain this collection and redistribution under state supervision. Malaysia is a country where zakat is collected and distributed officially at the state level. In each state, there is an Islamic council responsible for taking care of activities related to Islam and is semi-independent from the government that organizes the zakat process. Some of these do the collection and distribution together, some do it separately. In some states, the process has been totally privatized. Constitutionally, each state is dependent on its own sultan in religious affairs, thus each has its own mufti and partially different zakat practices and eac collect and distributes its zakat within that state. Because religious affairs have been codified as the privilege of the sultans of each state in the constitution during Malaysia’s foundation, there is no attempt at centralizing religious affairs and a centralization of zakat practices; the establishment of an institution to achieve this is not possible. Moreover, the secular character of the federation does not seem yet compatible with making zakat obligatory. However, due to the dominant Shafi‘i tradition and the convention in the country, people see it as imperative to hand over the charity and tithe to state institutions. Furthermore, there are local fatwas – which are considered as legal regulations in Malaysia – that require people with an income over a certain amount to pay zakat. Those who have the most are expected to give it voluntarily. In the 19th century, when wealth sources such as palm oil, cacao, rubber, tin were discovered, Malaysian officials were not able to extend the tithe to these; however, in the last twenty-five years, based on fatwas that income should be taxable under zakat has led to a boom in zakat. In all states, the largest portion of zakat is collected through income, usually automatically deducted from payroll. An influential factor in this outcome is that individually paid zakat can be deducted from income tax. From 2005 on, there have been other regulations to make it possible for legal personalities to deduct zakat from taxes. To increase zakat payment, especially publications have been produced to inform and encourage people, and modern opportunities to make payment easy have been developed. The most often used method is direct deduction from payroll. The second most common method is payment through zakat machines in different parts of the city by cash, check, Islamic credit card and, debit card. In addition to these, online, internet banking, telephone banking, ATM machines, post offices, kiosk machines, sms-zakat options are all available. The distribution of zakat differs from year to year and state to state. In general, there is an observable effort to pay all groups from zakat, but because there are no slaves in some states no payment is done under this category. There are both direct transfers and indirect transfers, such as through the construction of houses for poor people. There have been cases where poor people who had projects were supported with funds and those later returned in zakat. There is support for students in terms of scholarships through fuqarā’, fī sabīl allāh and ibn al-sabīl classes. For the muallafa al-qulūb class, there is a foundation to encourage local people to convert to Islam and help them for food, shelter, clothes and education. For Muslims who suffer as minorities in other countries help is provided through the riqāb, muallafa al-qulūb, fī sabīl allāh and ibn al-sabīl classes. In the ghārimīn class, especially victims of natural disasters such as flood and earthquake are supported. For those who have a right to receive zakat be able to receive it, the state has to side with the powerless and help zakat fulfill its social and individual functions. The way zakat is spent requires state policy and will. For this reason, zakat should be institutionalized and all activities should be organized by a single institution with state power behind it. Determining the recipients and the zakat-payers, and using the funds efficiently is easier with the coordination of state institutions. Extensive zakat councils that include state institutions should consider the ijtihāds in the area of zakat anew and make decisions to create a just and consistent zakat system. For these decisions to be applicable, the question of what kind of a system could be founded in our country should be on the agenda in these councils. Once an institution – official or autonomous but with state power behind it- is created, solutions can be found as they arise in the way. (shrink)

ABSTRACT:We combine prior research on ethical decision-making in organizations with a rational choice theory of corporate crime from criminology to develop a model of corporate offending that is tested with a sample of U.S. managers. Despite demands for increased sanctioning of corporate offenders, we find that the threat of legal action does not directly affect the likelihood of misconduct. Managers’ evaluations of the ethics of the act, measured using a multidimensional ethics scale, have a significant effect, as do outcome expectancies (...) that result from being associated with the misconduct but not facing formal sanctions. The threat of formal sanctions appears to operate indirectly, influencing ethical evaluations and outcome expectancies. Obedience to authority also affects illegal intentions, with managers reporting higher prospective offending when they are ordered to engage in misconduct by a supervisor. (shrink)

The II. constitutional period is a period of renewal in many areas. Political, social and educational changes also had influences in the field of religious education. One of the examples of these changes is the ʻAmelī I҆lmiḥal textbook written by Halim Sabit (DOD. 1946) in five volumes for both teachers and student. This study particularly aims to assess this textbook in terms of religious education. Accordingly, the following questions are addressed: “What are the topics covered in the ilmihal books written (...) for students and teachers? Is the content of the subjects taught appropriate for the religious education? Which methods, techniques, and essential matters are discussed in the ilmihal books for teachers? As having first grade elementary school textbooks for both teachers and students, the research is made just based on these books. Data were collected through the examination of the document, and the texts in Ottoman Turkish were transcribed into Turkish. Content analysis method was used in the analysis of the data. By examining both books, this study shows that belief, worship, and social issues were taught, and prayers and sūras were addressed as need to be memorized knowledge in the book. The books included inappropriate contents for first grade children regarding the belief issues such as fear of Allah, hell, and the hereafter. Summary: Education I҅lmiḥal, occupies an important place in the history of Islamic religious education. According to the religion of both adults and children to learn the principles of faith and worship, it is aimed to shape the daily life. In this context, for example, during the Ottoman period, In the period of II. Mahmut, boys were required to attend the primary school. Thus, it was ensured that children could learn I҅lmiḥal and Islamic sharia properly. Children are taught alif ba for Qurʾān readings in primary schools, as simple as required by religious duties, writing skills have been acquired and the four processing rules are memorized. The II. constitutional period is a period of renewal in many areas. Extreme innovative thinking is also reflected in education. Especially after the Balkan wars, the idea that the collapsing state would be saved through education was dominant. For the first time, a higher education institution for girls and a kindergarten for young children were opened. By recognizing the importance of pedagogy knowledge in teaching, the students have switched to a system where they can search for observation and experiment. Innovations in educational methods have started to be seen. It was seriously opposed to memorization, and the question and answer was seen as old methods. Instead, it was proposed to use sightseeing observation and discovery. Political, social and educational changes are also reflected in the field of religious education. As a reflection of the newly introduced methods, there have been changes in the ʻAmelī I҆lmiḥal books prepared for children. One of the examples of this is the ʻAmelī ʻIlmiḥal textbook, which was written by Halim Sabit in five volumes. This ʻAmelī I҆lmiḥal was prepared in 5 volumes for teachers and students.The main purpose of this study is to evaluate ʻAmelī I҆lmiḥal textbook in terms of religious education This study particularly aims to assess this textbook in terms of reigious education. Accordingly, the following questions are addressed: “What are the topics covered in the ilmihal books written for students and teachers? Is the content of the subjects taught appropriate for the religious education? Which methods, techniques, and essential matters are discussed in the ilmihal books for teachers? As having first grade elementary school textbooks for both teachers and students, the research is made just based on these books. Data were collected through the examination of the document, and the texts in Ottoman Turkish were transcribed into Turkish. The textbook prepared for the students of the first year consists of 21 boards/sheets. The sentences are quite self and short. The contents of the board/sheet are well suited to be discussed and explained. There are no headlines on the boards/sheets. The language of text is Ottoman. It is possible to express the topics covered in the book under the following themes:Prayer and Sūras: Basmala, Kalima Tawḥīd, Kalima Shahāda, Fātiḥa, Subḥana Rabbiyal Aʿala, Subhana rabbiyal ʿAẓim, As-salāmu ʿalaykum va Raḥmatullah, Taḥiyyat, Salawat Sharif, Iḥlas, Kawthar, Subḥanaka Prayer, Qunut Prayers.Faith Issues: Allāh, the fear of Allāh, thanks to Allāh, the Qurʾān, Prophets, Prophet Muḥammad, The Hereafter, Heaven Hell, Angels.ʿIbādat Issues: Zakāt, Ablution, Prayer, Adhān, worship in General (Salāt, Ṣawm, Zakāt, Ḥajj)Social Issues: Friendship, affection for minors, affection for parents, Muslims are Brother, human love, respect for the elderly, respect for scholars.The textbook prepared for the teachers of the first year; consists of 21 pages, 69 pages and Ottoman. As the students do not include the topics in the textbook, it is appropriate to mention the names of the subjects in the textbook of the teacher:1. Subject: Memorization of the Word of Tawḥīd and word of Shahāda; 2. Topic: Raising ideas about the nation in children; 3. Subject: The adjectives of Allāh Almighty; 4. Subject: Love of Allāh; 5. Subject: Angels; 6. Subject: The Divine Books; 7. Subject: Prophets 8. Subject: The Hereafter; 9. Subject: Thank Allāh; 10. Subject: Repentance; 11. Topic: Protecting the language from bad words and threats; 12. Subject: Zakāt and charity; 13. Subject: Riya҆ and his goodness engrave; 14. Subject: Love to the prophet Muḥammad; 15. Subject: Parental love; 16. Subject: The brotherhood of Islam; Subject: Human love; 18. Subject: Ablution; Subject: Prayer; 20. Subject: Respect for the elderly; 21. Subject: Love to ʿulamāʾ; 22. Subject: Fear of Allāh.Halim Sabit also gave information about the methods and techniques to be used in the course and emphasized that the teacher told his / her not by looking at the book. He thought it would be only influence the student in this way. It is recommended to use the appropriate language for the child, to make an introduction in the subjects that will be learned in the new subjects and to draw attention to the subject and to teach the subject gradually. An important advice is the knowledge that the teacher wants him / her to do in the long-term memory in the present sense. The teacher must repeat a subject several times while teaching a subject, and should not immediately remind a student of forgotten subjects, talk to a student and has finded to him. A subject should not be passed without being thoroughly understood, and the classroom needs to be opened by the teacher in order not to forget the learned subjects. The first fifteen minutes of each course should be reserved for the repetition of previously learned subjects. Content analysis method was used in the analysis of the data. By examining both books, this study shows that belief, worship, and social issues were taught, and prayers and sūras were addressed as need to be memorized knowledge in the book. The books included inappropriate contents for first grade children regarding the belief issues such as fear of Allah, hell, and the hereafter. (shrink)