- Remembering Morris PhilipsonIntroduction
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Morris Philipson, who led the University of Chicago Press from 1967 to 2000, died in November of 2011. A scholar, teacher, writer and publisher, Philipson described the university press as nothing less than civilization’s keeper of the flame, the natural outlet for scholarship and works of the world’s intellectual giants.
It is well-nigh impossible to be part of the university press community and not be impacted by either the scholarly output or personalities that have emerged from the University of Chicago Press. I have been impacted by both. Except for a brief summer stint at Encyclopedia Britannica, it was the University of Chicago Press that first introduced me to the world of scholarly publishing when, as was true of so many, I migrated from Chicago’s graduate school to the Press in search of business opportunities outside the classroom. That was 1975, eight years into Morris Philipson’s historic tenure as director of the Press, and I found the environment electric. As a publicity assistant, I occupied a low rung on the Press ladder, but I quickly made friends in both the book and journals divisions and absorbed as much as I could from the talented colleagues surrounding my small cubicle. As if it were yesterday, I vividly recall taking home the galleys of Norman Maclean’s novella A River Runs Through It and, like many at the Press, realized Chicago was on to something without, of course, knowing publication would take Chicago to the studios of Hollywood. And when I reflect on my 1975 Press colleagues who, like myself (at Nevada and Wesleyan), advanced up the corporate ladder to assume the directorship at other presses (Wendy Strothman at Beacon, John Ryden at Yale, Barbara Hanrahan at Notre Dame, Marlie Wasserman at Rutgers, Allen Fitchen at Wisconsin, and Penny Kaiserlian at Virginia, among others), I smile to think it took such enormous personnel resources to convince Morris and the Press Board to stray from its policy of not publishing new fiction. The skills of these immensely talented individuals dovetailed nicely with the publishing savvy that Morris had acquired while working at Knopf, and elsewhere, before taking the helm at Chicago. These individuals combined their skills to create a climate where it was possible to select books that would become financially beneficial to the press.
What follows is a special section of JSP honouring the memory of Morris Philipson through the words of both professional colleagues and family members who can speak about the multi-faceted character that made the man (so complex). [End Page 183]
The section ends fittingly with the words of Morris Philipson himself, who said, ‘The scholarly experience . . . transcends format innovations, market changes, and fashion changes, for they are all the means. The enrichment of mind, soul, or intellect is the end.’
- Signing Up with Morris
The legendary career of Morris Philipson is rooted in the books that he published; in his unyielding advocacy for the intellectual necessity of university presses; in his charisma, his combination of sophistication, wit, and an elegant tough-mindedness. Significantly, he also oversaw and sustained adventurous, influential academic journals. He knew that journals are the powerful vehicles in which new ideas and controversies are test-driven. I write as the beneficiary of his conviction.
My professional relationship with Morris began in 1974. I was a barely tenured associate professor of English at Barnard College who had gone into women’s studies in the 1960s. That was one reason why I was barely tenured. I had helped to found the women’s centre at Barnard and to organize an annual conference, ‘The Scholar and the Feminist.’ There, at a conference lunch, a lean, blonde woman with a deep voice and a smoker’s habit approached me. She was Jean Sacks, a University of Chicago alumna, a mother of three, a brilliant woman with a sense of life who had been working at the University of Chicago Press since 1962. When Morris arrived in 1967, he found her there. In 1974...