Last June, working at the Rare Books and Special Collections Department hidden within Firestone, I found myself tearing up as I sifted through pages just shy of 150 years old. I had been processing the Civil War Letters of Adam Badeau for nearly a month, my longest and most meticulous project to date.
In September 1940, Japan’s prime minister, Konoe Fumimaro, concluded the Tripartite Pact with Germany and Italy, committing the three countries to support each other against the United States in the event of American entry into World War II.
The perception of people with intellectual disabilities as “defective” is grounded in an intellectual superiority that finds its natural home among the academic elite.
Once a small-town movie house that navigated the local market with bumbling charm, the Garden Theatre has grown into an exhibit of Old Princeton nostalgia under its new management. This is all well and good for Princeton’s polished and intellectual reputation, but I’ll miss the old Garden’s cozy modesty.
In the bowels of Firestone Library, behind bombproof walls and inside climate-controlled rooms, lies the entire life’s work of Nobel Prize-winning Peruvian author Mario Vargas Llosa.
Any school child knows that Neil Armstrong was the first man to sit in an Adirondack chair on the moon, but few know the story of its humble roots as a wee embryo in the mind of Thomas Lee.
