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getting down to more serious business. These are impor tant qualities, but we
can make more use of James, not just for his charming phrases, but also for his
deep insights with potential to shed light on some of our most nettlesome cul-
tural and intellectual puzzles, especially since he pres ents his philosophizing
with clear writing and evocative imagery.
“Philosophies paint pictures,” James said, with words that describe his abil-
ity to find simple and sharp words for big ideas. He offers explanations about
connections where most see separation or tension, in religion and science,
mind and body, spirit and nature, freedom and order, ac cep tance and strug gle,
and truth and change; each is a big player in human life, and James shows
their common sources in the material and immaterial flows of experience. And
he sheds light into often- hidden corners of human thoughts and interactions,
including the elusiveness of certainties even as we crave them nonetheless, the
ability of nonrational thoughts to seize and shape our reason, the formation of
contrasting worldviews even among those who examine the same facts, and
the opportunities to learn from our trou bles. To tap these deeper veins, readers
can do no better than to go to The Works of William James , 19 volumes, and
The Correspondence of William James , 12 volumes. My first thanks go to the
editors, teams of scrupulous scholars coordinated by Frederick Burkhardt and
Freson Bowers, and by John McDermott, Ignas Skrupskelis, and Elizabeth
Berkeley, respectively, and to Harvard University Press and the University
Press of Virginia for producing these large trea sure troves of his words.
xviii Acknowl edgments
Young William James Thinking is a one- volume guide to the emerging
themes that would make their way into his mature theories. The young adult
James expressed his ideas with less sophistication, but with more directness,
unguarded by disciplinary expectations. This book is a prologue to the better-
known James. Here, readers can go to the sources of his intellectual develop-
ment—to find out how William James became the William James of confi-
dence, high reputation, influence, charm, and cultural and intellectual debate.
And for experts in his mature theories in psy chol ogy, philosophy, religious
studies, history of science, and cultural studies, the explanations and stories
here pres ent a chance to meet James again for the first time. In writing this
book, I also ran into some of the insights and wisdom of this psychologist and
phi los o pher while he was in formation in ways I never could have imagined.
Q
Writing about a young person in development brings to mind my own
life in development during the many years of producing this book. William
James has been a welcome companion. His profound theories and clever
turns of phrase became not just topics of research but also points of inspira-
tion. This came home to me most strikingly in December 2002. That season,
I had been working on chapter 2, on James’s medical practices, but for the
previous few weeks, blurry vision in my left eye was making reading a little
difficult. My eye doctor did some tests and asked for an MRI, “just to rule
some things out.” A few days later, the doctor called to say that the MRI
results could now explain my blurry vision; I had a tumor near my pituitary
gland that was pushing on my optic nerve. After immediately imagining the
worst, and getting advice on next steps, within a few hours, I was back at
my writing desk, revising the paragraph I had written the day before.
Despite my personal woes, I was immersing myself in the words of Wil-
liam James, about his medical education no less. One par tic u lar phrase
jumped out at me. In the late 1860s, when he was in a slough of discourage-
ment about his own career and his personal prospects, he had an insight
that grew from his reading of ancient philosophy, from his wrestling with
current physiological psy chol ogy, and from the crucible of his own trou bles:
“Results shd. not be too voluntarily aimed at or too busily thought of.” Like
James, I too was discouraged, but also, like him, letting go of results had a
“potent effect in my inner life.” Without knowing my medical fate, I contin-
ued my small daily pegging. My medical adventure made any final results of
my work irrelevant; there was no planning for publication or even for just
completing the book. But there was the pro cess, the doing, and that was
Acknowl edgments xix
what mattered. I had read his words about the challenges he endured, about
his utter discouragement, even as he continued learning and working; but
now I had knowledge by acquaintance, as he would say about realizations
that surge from lived experience, about the firm resolve he forged in his
youth to continue growing, to continue his efforts, as goals in and of them-
selves without any idea of what they would lead to, if anything. By the end
of his years as a student and then as a teacher of science, from 1861 to 1877,
when he was searching for direction in his vocation, philosophical orienta-
tion, and personal life, he didn’t solve the prob lems of his youth; he worked
around them, and he worked through them, without expecting results. This
was a freeing mental posture that allowed him to take his “first act of free
will” in 1870.
So I want to thank my audacious visitor, the craniopharyngioma brain
tumor, which, in the com pany of a confused young science student a century
and a half ago, helped to teach me how ideas take on a vital real ity and how
a phi los o pher comes of age. At the end of his youth, in 1878, James embarked
on writing a psy chol ogy text; it would take so many years that he called it
his “dropsical mass.” I learned to appreciate his patience and stick- to-
itiveness, as my mother would say, since I took an even longer time on the
pres ent work after publication of my previous book, Eclipse of Certainty, on
the contexts in science and religion surrounding William James. A tumor
was just one of many parts of life’s happenings that shaped plans, by day
and by year, while the book grew, like filling a bathtub with an eye dropper.
Little could I know the gifts in each distraction. The tumor brought aware-
ness of physical finality and a prod to gratitude. Helping students hone their
skills and improve their understanding taught me to hone my own arts of
explanation; writing for newspapers and blogs taught me to write with
clarity and concision. Friends and colleagues provided a comfortable home
base for the work of a teacher- scholar; and family, that microcommunity of
people at once intimate and “diff er ent from yourself,” as James said of his
own birth family, offered a soul school of joy surpassing words and of chal-
lenges to patience, all knit together by the enduring power of love. I thank
them all for all their gifts, even when they didn’t know they were giving.
When reviewing my path toward this book, I offer still more thanks for
the gifts of people linked to it by wide spans of time and proximity. Al-
though many years
have passed since my own formal education, I thank the
dedication of my O’Connell High School teachers, especially Tom McNichol
for his tough love, and the rigorous work of professors at Georgetown
xx Acknowl edgments
University, especially Emmett Curran for his deliberate passion. From days
in gradu ate school at Brown University, I continue to benefit from the pro-
found inspirations of Wendell Dietrich, Mary Gluck, William McLoughlin,
James Patterson, Joan Richards, Barton St. Armand, John Thomas, Sumner
Twiss, and Gordon Wood, and from the exuberant brilliance of John E.
Smith at Yale University. Their model scholarship and teaching provided a
rich platform for launching a career.
After brief stopovers teaching for two few years back at Georgetown,
then at Rollins College, I have made a career in DeLand, Florida, at Stetson
University. On this personal and intellectual journey, I offer special thanks
to Sam Crane and Mo Strype, Bill and Lori Francis, Julie Billingsley and
John McNeill, Jack Lane and Gary Williams, and all the faculty at Stetson,
who sustain a welcoming intellectual home. Thanks also to deans Gary
Maris, Grady Ballenger, and Karen Ryan for steady support of research. I
send out special thanks to the late John Hague, who was a model of intel-
lectual curiosity and gentlemanly grace, to Emily Mieras, trusted collabo-
rator in American studies and the arts of teaching, and to Phillip Lucas and
Bob Sitler for friendships so refined.
In the broader orbits of academia, I thank the many scholars who have
read and commented on aspects of this book and its ideas in pro gress
through correspondence and conference sessions: Catherine Albanese,
Randall Albright, Ermine Lawrence Algaier IV, Stephen Alter, William
Barnard, Andrea Birch, Tony Birch, Daniel Bjork, Francesca Bordogna,
Michael Brady, Lynn Bridgers, Kyle Bromhall, Rosa Calcaterra, Charles
Capper, Ramón del Castillo, Mary Cayton, Deborah Coon, George Cotkin,
Henry Cowles, Donald Crosby, Pamela Crosby, Anthony DeStefanis, Ann
Douglas, James Duban, Marilyn Fischer, Norris Frederick, Steve Gillon,
Richard Hall, Anders Hallengren, David Hollinger, Carol Holly, José Jatuff,
Hans Joas, Amy Kittelstrom, Alexander Klein, Louise Knight, Eric Kur-
lander, John Lachs, David Lamberth, Paul Lauritzen, Jackson Lears, Sarin
Marchetti, Erin McKenna, Jay Mechling, Mark Moller, Jill Morawski, Les
Muray, Jim Pawelski, Robert Perkins, Sylvia Perkins, Scott Pratt, Hilary
Putnam, Michael Raposa, Joan Richardson, Daniel Rinn, Jon Roberts,
Charlene Haddock Seigfried, Roberta Sheehan, Linda Simon, Jeff Sklansky,
Larry Smith, Dennis Soelch, Flavia Stara, David Steigerwald, Paul Stob,
Emma Sutton, Ann Taves, Eugene Taylor, James Turner, Claudio Viale, Pe-
ter Walker, Celia Watson, Robb Westbrook, Jane Williams- Hogan, Ulf
Zackariasson, Leila Zenderland, and Devin Zuber. Each contact has been a
Acknowl edgments xxi
learning experience. In addition, Logi Gunnarsson, Jim Kloppenberg,
David Leary, Bob Richardson, and Richard Cándida Smith read earlier
drafts of the entire manuscript and offered learned and astute advice; I can
only hope that the final version of this work lives up to their high standards.
Thanks also to Carlin Romano for suggesting the title.
Librarians are the great information organizers in our era of information
explosion. I am grateful to the outstanding librarians at Harvard’s Hough-
ton and Pusey Libraries, for directing me through sometimes- arcane ar-
chival paths, and at Stetson’s DuPont- Ball Library for their quick work with
book orders, interlibrary loan requests, and a steady stream of research
questions. I have benefited from all their excellent work, and I offer a spe-
cial thanks to Sims Kline, who could transform an inquiry into a magical
trea sure hunt.
Institutions and individuals have granted permission to quote from manu-
script material. In par tic u lar, for use of the William James Papers (bMS Am
1092.9–1092.12), the James Family Papers (bMS Am 1094), and the James
Family Publication Accounts and Correspondence, 1890–1923 (MS Am
1435), I thank Bay James and the Houghton Library, Harvard University.
These materials have enabled some of the most intimate inquiries of this
book.
It has been a plea sure to work with Johns Hopkins University Press,
which lives up to its reputation for commitment to sound cultural and intel-
lectual history and for cutting- edge savvy. And for her crisp insights on the
world of books, from the intellectual nuances of historical contexts to the
business of publishing, many thanks to Elizabeth Demers.
My warmest thanks go to my family. I am only sorry that my parents did
not live to see this product of my academic work that they so keenly encour-
aged; they were models of devotion to each other and to their children, with
unstinting love expressed pragmatically, in action. Thanks too for the steady
support of my siblings, Andrea and Tony, and John and Margaret. I am also
grateful to Ann Jerome for support during the early phases of this proj ect
and throughout the medical challenges, and I am grateful that the tumor
came and went allowing me to carry on with work, family, and life in gen-
eral. And I thank my children, Peter and Elizabeth, for their intellectual
curiosity, intuitive awareness, and humane sympathies. They have been a
grounding presence in my life and for my work, pointing out when I “com-
plexify” things and doing their best to “coolify” me. I dedicate this book to
them with love, with thanks, and with hopes for the future— their futures,
xxii Acknowl edgments
and the contributions they are already making to the world’s future. James’s
son remembered that his father was “perennially ‘keen’ about new things
and future things, about beginnings and possibilities.” As with young
William James, the lives of Elizabeth and Peter point to the “validity of
possibility.”
Young Wil iam James Thinking
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An In vitation
In his young adulthood, William James guarded his private thoughts,
preserving them in his personal notebooks or doling them out in letters to
friends. His coming of age was prolonged and often troubled, but that rarely
stopped him from writing down his thoughts and feelings. He had the obses-
sions of an intellectual: What about this idea? That’s an in ter est ing new
fact. What are the implications of that feeling? And even, as he wrote in an
April 1868 diary entry, “Look it up!” Now, a century after his death, and
more than a century and a half after he first started trying out his ideas on pa-
per, this book offers an invitation to witness young William James thinking.
Welcome to the private intellectual world of young man James, begin-
ning with a page from a personal notebook he started during his twenty-
first year. He was in his third semester of scientific study and, as these earnest
comments show, was also wondering about his next steps—in his career, in
his philosophy of life, in his h
ealth, and in his personal relations with his
family and friends. In other words, he was muddled and exploring. And
through his trou bles, he was also finding his future direction.
[Notebook 3], October 1, 1862, William James papers, bMS Am 1092.9 (4497) , p. [2].
Courtesy of Bay James and the Houghton Library, Harvard University.
A Splendid Cure for Melancholy at the Water Cure in Divonne, France.
William James papers, bMS Am 1092.2 (28). Courtesy of Bay James and the Houghton
Library, Harvard University.
Even when studying mainstream medicine on his way to earning his M.D. in 1869,
young James regularly used hydropathy, the alternative healing practice also known
as water cure, but did not rely on it exclusively—he even sometimes grew impatient
with its slow impact. While studying physiology and psy chol ogy in Eu rope in
1867–68, James also often grew discouraged about his vocational indecision and
single state, and he visited water cures for his mental and physical health. At
Divonne, he found the “water- works . . . excellent” (letter to his physiologist friend
Henry Bowditch, CWJ, 4:339), but he imagined a still more “vortrefflich gegen
Melancholie” (splendid [cure] for melancholy) by presuming, despite his social
awkwardness, that he could actually attract the attention of a small crowd of
admiring women.
Introduction
Almost a Phi los o pher
The exaggerated dignity and value that phi los o phers have claimed for
their solutions: . . . This is why so few human beings truly care for
Philosophy. . . . theoretic rationality is but one of a thousand human
purposes.
William James, 1879
In August 1868, William James was eager to remedy his single state. At age
twenty- six, he had generally lived at home, but now he was on his own in Eu rope,
seeking to improve his scientific credentials and his health. His postponed
vocational commitment and his frequent eye, back, and digestive prob lems,
punctuated by periods of utter discouragement, did not boost his confidence in
relating with women. But in Dresden he had met a fellow American, Catherine
Havens, who was also in Eu rope seeking improved health. He was clearly smit-
ten, but he felt awkward. In their “forced separation,” when he was in Divonne,