Our First Archives Fellow Processes the Sidney W. Mintz Papers

The University Archives recently appointed Andrew Brandel as the first Archives Fellow. The Archives Fellow program is designed to give a Hopkins student the opportunity to process an archival collection but also to conduct research in that collection. Andrew, a Ph.D. student in Anthropology here at Hopkins, has elected to process the papers of Professor Sidney W. Mintz (pictured above in the 1960s), a singular figure in the history of the university and the field of anthropology. Below are some comments Andrew would like to share about this unique opportunity; we are equally honored to work with him!
The opportunity to work with the University Archives, and especially on a collection as special as Sidney W. Mintz’s papers, is as unique as it is valuable and rewarding. As a doctoral student in the Department of Anthropology, my research focuses on the movement of texts between archives, rare book dealers, reading groups, and literary publics. I am especially interested in how the life of books is a site through which we can understand imaginations of larger social organizations, like “nations” and “peoples.” How do we come to think about a particular text or edition as being marked by its “German-ness” or its “Romanticism” for example, and how does that reflect or refract larger scale processes? My work with the Mintz Papers will allow me (I hope) to turn this methodological gesture on my own disciplinary practice.
Cultural anthropology, if anything at all can be said about its American brand as a unified body, is a field both preoccupied with and perennially anxious about its own history. As a field of inquiry relatively late to be established within the arrangement of disciplines of the academy, it has struggled for a long time to shake off its colonial heritage. Likewise, at least in its manifestation here at Johns Hopkins, it involves a training that on the one hand seeks to recuperate and engage with its predecessors, and on the other resists any kind of closure with regards to establishing a “canon.” The Sidney W. Mintz Papers are remarkable not just because the collection reveals in new light major contributions to the discipline, but also because it is a testament to a community of scholars and a plurality of voices.
Professor Mintz himself is a towering figure, humble to a fault, as charming as he is brilliant. Returning from war, Mintz went to Columbia University to study anthropology at a time when the discipline was beginning to take shape in this country. Columbia had been home to the founder of American anthropology, the incredible Franz Boas, who by then had handed the reigns over to a next generation of pioneers that included Ruth Benedict, Margaret Mead, and Julian Steward. Emerging from the swollen ranks of graduate students in the wake of the G.I. Bill, Mintz was part of a now famous group that included Marvin Harris, Stanley Diamond, Morton Fried, and Eric Wolf. Mintz and Wolf would go on to share a friendship that lasted the rest of lives (Wolf passed away in 1999) and have a profound impact on one another’s scholarship. Mintz’s research, drawing on several fieldwork excursions in the Caribbean (Puerto Rico, Jamaica and Haiti especially), is among the most influential in anthropology’s history, bridging the divide with history and bringing a Marxist historical materialist pedigree to bear on pressing issues, while weaving together cultural, economic, and social analyses. But his impact is greater still, influencing nearly all fields of contemporary social science in some way, in fields ranging from economics and history to food studies.
Mintz once told me, however, that he felt where he really excelled in his career was as a teacher. After a long stint at Yale (1951-1974), Mintz joined the faculty at Johns Hopkins, taking up one of the first two positions in the new Department of Anthropology, which had been established under an initiative by Dean George Owen and in conjunction with the Atlantic Program in History, Culture and Society. Over the years, he touched the lives and careers of an astonishing number of students, graduate and undergraduate alike, as well as those of his colleagues around the world. He has taught at MIT, Princeton, Berkeley, the Collège de France, and in Germany, New Zealand, Australia, and Hong Kong, and he is still Research Professor at Johns Hopkins University at nearly 90.
His collection speaks with arresting candor to this web of relations. His correspondence in particular reveals a richly intertwined academic community. Among the great figures that make an appearance are Claude Levi-Strauss (le grand Claude as one letter calls him), Sir Edmund Leach, Arjun Appadurai, Noam Chomsky, Marshall Sahlins, and Clifford Geertz. This collection has all the trappings of the anthropological archive as it is traditionally conceived –– fieldwork, lecture notes, manuscripts and reviews, grant proposals, and panel organizations. But what I hope this Fellowship –– dual vocation as it is, between archivist and historical anthropologist — will allow to me to do, is to turn the scholarly gaze onto itself, and to think of the discipline of anthropology as constituted not simply by detached ideas floating around haunted and hallowed halls, but as intertwined with the lives that produce them.











