Michèle Longino's Tribute

Philippe Lançon, writer

Michele était née à Paris, une ville où elle aimait retourner comme si elle y avait toujours vécu, une ville qu’elle aimait plus que tout, et c’est à Paris que je l’ai rencontrée, dans un dîner naturellement. C’est en sa compagnie, ce soir-là, que j’ai ensuite traversé une partie de Paris en marchant et en discutant. Il faisait doux. Nous étions en été. L’amitié naissante est un phénomène qui suspend la vie. 

J’ai aussitôt découvert et apprécié certaines qualités de Michele : son élégance, extérieure et intérieure (ah, le charme de ses cols roulés en hiver, de ses colliers en toute saison) ; son chic sans ostentation ; sa manière bienveillante, et cependant espiègle, toujours en alerte, d’écouter ses interlocuteurs ; son charme enfin. C’est une allure, un regard, un ton, qui permettent de vieillir en beauté. S’il y avait un large supplément de vie accordée aux personnes intelligemment civilisées, le monde se porterait mieux et Michele aurait pu approcher, sans bruit, de l’immortalité ; mais elle était trop discrète et trop éduquée pour exiger un tel privilège. Il lui aurait paru pesant. Or, elle ne pesait jamais. Ou, du moins, elle ne faisait jamais sentir le poids des décisions qu’elle devait prendre. 

Elle avait travaillé, entre autres, sur l’orientalisme dans le XVIIème siècle français, et, si elle avait assimilé quelque chose de la politique de la Sublime Porte et des textes du Grand Siècle, c’était bien le sens de la nuance, le goût du spectacle et l’instinct du diplomate. Quand elle dirigeait le département des Romance Studies, à Duke, ces spécificités facilitèrent la vie de bien des professeurs, permanents ou visiteurs comme moi, et les rapports entre eux. Elle savait faire comprendre à quelqu’un qu’il se trompait, ou qu’il exagérait. Elle le faisait comprendre sans le lui dire, mais en lui suggérant, avec un léger sourire, le nez et le regard en avant puis en arrière, qu’il existait un moyen d’ajuster un peu plus une réaction ou une décision à cette incontournable réalité : la vie professionnelle en commun. Elle déplaçait légèrement, mais suffisamment, la perspective de son interlocuteur. Michele ou la caresse critique. 

Elle racontait avec une ironie tranquille comment, jeune chercheuse, elle avait été confrontée en France à quelques dix-septièmistes d’une prétention virile, à l’ancienne. Michele était une féministe paisible, mais ferme, qui n’avait pas besoin de hausser le ton pour rappeler et développer ses droits et ses recherches. Son histoire familiale lui avait appris la douleur que peut provoquer un secret. Elle lui avait enseigné la patience, le silence, l’importance du détour pour obtenir l’accès, et, comme l’écrivait Françoise Sagan, poser un certain sourire sur tout cela afin de mieux le transfigurer. 

Elle m’a souvent parlé de Mme de Sévigné, de Colette, en particulier de Chéri. Je pense que sa personnalité si washingtonienne, si parisienne, s’était éduquée par l’une et par l’autre. Ce qu’elle y trouvait, c’était je crois ce mélange de liberté, d’indépendance et de civilité, de grâce et de sensualité, de solitude acceptée aussi, qui lui semblait déterminer la vie. Elle était toujours plus stoïque que blessée. Le sourire, un mot bien placé, un geste parfait, presque retenu, effaçaient tout ce qu’une déception, un abandon, un échec, une plainte, l’assaut d’un manque de tact, avaient momentanément rayé. Si elle avait une lecture politique lucide des situations et des textes, jamais celle-ci ne fermait la porte au plaisir et à l’ouverture d’esprit. 

Elle m’a permis de venir à Duke, d’y enseigner. Elle a fait en sorte, et avec quelle subtilité, que je puisse m’y intégrer, éveiller et travailler ma curiosité, aimer enfin une partie de ce pays que je connaissais si mal : le sien. Je ne suis certainement pas le seul à m’être senti, grâce à elle, moins lourd et plus modeste. Et, quand je suis revenu plus tard, blessé dans un attentat, le visage de travers et la mâchoire à peine refaite, c’est sur sa terrasse, par son sourire, dans son regard, un verre de bon vin à la main, aussi tenu et détendu que dans un salon, sur ce trente et un si particulier où contrôle et naturel se confondent, qu’il m’a semblé retrouvé certaines couleurs de la vie.

Philippe Lançon

Alice Kaplan, Professor of Romance Studies, emerita, former CFFS director, and Professor of French, Yale

We founded the Center for French and Francophone Studies in 2000. I say “we” because, although I was the director in name, both Michele Longino and Helen Solterer were an integral part of the adventure. Michele became the second director, serving from 2003-2006. By then the Franklin Center on Erwin Road was buzzing with activity to which Michele added her own signature programs. One of the events I remember best was a talk by Susan George, critic of the IMF and the World Bank, whose radical critique of globalization anticipated so many political movements of subsequent years. Pascale Casanova, the theorist of translation and the world republic of letters, visited, as did Christian Jouhaud, specialist of early modern France. Stephen Smith visited, soon joining the Duke faculty and becoming a director of the Center, as did Philippe Lançon, who later taught in the department. Michèle had a knack for knowing which writers and critics were a good match for our own faculty and students and for planning events that reached beyond the French community. 

There’s no zoom or youtube record from those years of what she accomplished, but many books and articles, many writers and critics and journalists and artists, can testify to the intellectual excitement she created. She shepherded the faculty exchange with the Ecole des Hautes Etudes, once confined to the History Department, and brought it under the umbrella of the Center, creating any number of new intellectual collaborations in history, literature and art history. Under her watch a new exchange with the Institut des Sciences Politiques, initiated by the Center and administered by the Department of Romance Studies in conjunction with Duke’s study abroad program, EDUCO, has sent undergraduates to the grande école. 

Michele was truly a citizen of the world. Born in Neuilly to a military and diplomatic family, she had lived in France and Italy as a child and often seemed to us as happy or happier speaking French and Italian as English. She had served in the Peace Corps in Somalia and remained true to its core values. Her diplomatic skills were unsurpassed, as was her sense of organization and process. Her own foundational role in Duke’s study abroad consortium, EDUCO, enriched the Center, and during a series of semester long stays in France, both at EDUCO in Paris and at the Camargo Foundation in Cassis where she wrote several of her books, she immersed herself in French intellectual life--both the life of her field, 17th century French literature, and intellectual life more generally. She also took the life of the Center to France with her. I remember a wonderful seminar on “Bérénice” at the Café Le Nemours after she took a group of alumni to see the play at the Comédie-Française, in June 2003. 

Michele, as I said, was a consummate diplomat, but she was far from conservative in her intellectual tastes. She was doing decolonial study before the word existed. I think it’s fair to say that she was drawn to quality and inspired by radical political thought. 

Under her dynamic leadership and the supportive atmosphere of the Franklin Center, the CFFS succeeded as an interdisciplinary unit in ways I could never have imagined. Events were packed—not just films, but lectures by visiting scholars in every discipline. Longino created 

special events as forums for round table debates that engaged faculty from four or five different areas. The number of units on campus involved with the Center grew every year under her leadership: Public Policy, History, Anthropology, Art History, Literature. One of the most successful programs brought a visiting journalist to spend several weeks with a working group of international journalists at the DeWitt Center for Media Studies. Michel Kajman, in charge of the editorial page of Le Monde in those years, and an enthusiastic ‘alum’ of the Duke media fellows program, opened the columns of that paper to Duke faculty. Michèle brought an entire theater company to Duke -- the Theatre de la folle pensée – working with our playwright colleague Paol Keineg. 

It’s difficult to measure the growing awareness of Duke in French intellectual circles that was among Michele’s signal achievements. 

Her own geography was diverse: a walk-up apartment on the Ile Saint Louis during her EDUCO years; the Montpellier of her student days; apartment A at the Camargo foundation. looking straight at the Cap Canaille from its enormous terrace; the Naples of her childhood; and Venice, where she also directed study abroad. She was a Mediterranean at heart. The world, our world, is a smaller place without her. 

Alice Kaplan

Romance Studies Professor and Former CFFS Director Helen Solterer

Montpellier, Marseille, Cassis, Venice, Istanbul, and points further east: Michèle was at home around the Mediterranean. This was so much of what she loved, what she relished writing about.

The theater too. She shared Molière’s bourgeois and Racine’s Bajazet with numerous unsuspecting students, and an actor or two. She put the Ottomans back into these plays and transformed the way I – and many others – understand classical drama.

A university diplomat, she enjoyed introducing colleagues to new places and people: she hosted President Brodhead at EDUCO in Paris.

In Durham, she opened up the world of Duke to colleagues from France, inviting them to test out teaching with us: critic Pascale Casanova, literary journalist and writer Philippe Lançon, and newly qualified Arabist-Romance comparatist, Émilie Picherot.

    I have no doubt that many alums who get nostalgic about their study abroad will have Michèle at the heart of their memories: coming to see her for guidance on the rue du Montparnasse, the place de l’Estrapade, the boulevard Raspail.

I will remember Michèle:

the francophone who felt her languages so deeply that, forgetting at times which language she was speaking, her English sounded French,

the feminist who focused her sensibilities on literature she made her own,

the professional ally who offered insight and encouragement to fellow researchers when they could not yet see the shape or the end of the books they were writing.

Helen Solterer

Romance Studies Professor Emerita Stephanie Sieburth

I write as a retired member of the Spanish faculty, who knew and worked with Michèle throughout her entire time at Duke. Michèle arrived at Duke at a time when all the Full Professors were men, save one, Linda Orr, all the Assistant Professors were women, and the Assistant Professors had our offices in a hallway in the basement of Perkins Library that was freezing cold, 12 months a year. From these inauspicious beginnings, Michèle rose through the ranks and was a key figure in the flourishing of our Department over time. Michèle was a terrific teacher, adviser, and researcher. She participated actively in administration at every level, and did a beautiful job, whether she was chairing a search committee or a tenure committee, being DUS or DGS, or chairing the Department. She was also a born program-builder, working with other French colleagues to create vibrant undergraduate and graduate programs. As Chair, in addition to continuing this work with the French section, she made sure that Spanish, Portuguese, and Italian also had healthy enrollments. She then went on to use all of these qualities on the University’s APT committee. Beyond her work at Duke, a few things that stand out are her lifelong connection to France; her enjoyment of good food, wine, and ice cream; and her irreverent, iconoclastic sense of humor.

Emilie Picherot, Professor of Comparative Literature,  Université de Lille

A la mémoire de Michèle Longino 

Nous ne remercions jamais assez les personnes qui nous tendent généreusement la main. 

J’ai rencontré Michèle Longino pour la première fois à Paris, j’étais encore loin de soutenir ma thèse. Elle parlait d’études de genre appliquées à la littérature du XVIIème siècle et j’ai trouvé cela trop étrange, trop américain aussi. Ce n’est que plusieurs années après que je me suis rendu compte qu’elle mettait en avant une lecture nécessaire. Au contraire, dès 2008, elle a eu la générosité de considérer que mes recherches, encore très inabouties, avaient de l’avenir. C’est grâce à Michèle que j’ai été invitée à enseigner à Duke University et c’est elle qui a permis que je vive cette expérience fondatrice pour l’ensemble de ma carrière. J’étais enceinte au moment où elle me recrutait, et elle en était parfaitement informée. Nous n’en avons jamais reparlé par la suite. Pourtant… combien de directeurs de départements français auraient eu le courage de considérer qu’une jeune collègue enceinte pouvait mériter une telle attention à cette époque ? Comme elle l’avait prévu, et grâce à l’accueil chaleureux des équipes du département des Romance Studies de Duke comme de l’ensemble de la communauté de Durham, l’année s’est très bien passé. Pour moi, comme pour ma fille, qui y a vécu ses premiers mois et ma mère qui nous avait accompagnées. Au cours de notre relation construite sur des conversations toujours libres et amicales, Michèle a su me faire bénéficier de sa propre expérience du Moyen Orient, bien différente de la mienne mais très complémentaire et jusqu’en 2024 nous nous sommes vues de loin en loin à Paris et en maintenant une vraie correspondance. Elle m’a raconté son premier combat contre le cancer, combat qu’elle a mené avec la force et la distance amusée qu’elle semblait mettre en toutes choses. Elle avait toujours un mot pour ma mère qu’elle avait rencontrée à Durham. 

Malgré ses hautes compétences littéraires et la légitime reconnaissance que ses travaux lui ont apportée dans le milieu des spécialistes du XVIIème siècle français, nous n’avions pas de rapport strictement professionnel. Nous échangions sur nos vies et sur la diplomatie américaine, et les derniers messages que nous avons partagés portaient sur un article du New York Times à propos de la Palestine. C’était pour moi la marque d’une amitié sincère que la distance n’a pas altérée. Le décès de Michèle est une réalité qui m’attriste. J’ai perdu une voix lointaine et amicale que j’avais toujours beaucoup de plaisir à entendre ou à lire.

Filippo Screpanti, Alumnus and Former advisee

I had the privilege of meeting Professor Longino in the Fall of 2014, when I began my PhD program in Romance Studies at Duke, and I was honored to collaborate with her for the following six years, until my graduation in the summer of 2020. During my time at Duke, she served as my advisor and directed my doctoral thesis, which focused on French and Italian captivity narratives in the early modern Mediterranean.

As a leading scholar of 17th-century French studies, Professor Longino's research spanned a wide array of topics, from the early modern epistolary genre to France's cultural connections with the Ottoman Empire. Her work cemented her reputation as a key figure in the field. Her scholarly contributions were recognized through numerous fellowships and awards in both the United States and France. At Duke, she was an integral member of the Romance Studies department and a beloved figure within the university community, known for her academic rigor and for the warmth and generosity she brought to campus life.

Her academic achievements are a testament to her exceptional intellect, and I consider myself fortunate to have worked under her guidance. Professor Longino’s influence shaped my academic journey from the very beginning. During my first year at Duke, I had the opportunity to take one of her graduate courses focused on French early modern travelers to the Ottoman Empire. In that class, I was introduced to a vast body of texts that ignited my fascination with the vivid portrayal of cross-cultural interactions in these travel narratives. Our first class together sparked my curiosity, ultimately leading me to the subject of my dissertation: early modern captivity narratives.

Throughout my time at Duke, Professor Longino's mentorship was invaluable. Her expertise, insight, and introduction to a network of like-minded scholars were instrumental in shaping my academic trajectory. I owe much of my success to her unwavering support, encouragement, and guidance.

However, my gratitude for Professor Longino extends far beyond the academic realm. I will always remember her kindness. She had a gentle word for everyone, cultivating an atmosphere of warmth, respect, and inclusivity. As I neared the end of my doctoral program, she invited me to co-teach several undergraduate classes on 17th-century French literature. I will always remember how she treated each student with such care and attention, creating a space where they felt valued and appreciated.

Professor Longino's grace was evident in every interaction. She knew exactly what to say to make others feel at ease, and her presence was a source of comfort and reassurance. She was generous with her time, and always quick to offer a helping hand. While working on my Ph.D. program at Duke, I had the joy of starting a family. Professor Longino was consistently thoughtful and kind toward my wife, Christina, and our sons, Theodore and Alexander. We will always treasure the many delicious meals we shared at her home.

I will also remember her wonderful sense of humor. Her wit and ability to find a silver lining in many situations helped to ease the pressures of graduate life. Her lightheartedness was a source of comfort to me during challenging times.

Although we stayed in touch after my graduation, I will always hold dear the memory of the last time I saw Professor Longino. It was the summer of 2020, at the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic and the ensuing lockdown. I had just defended my thesis, and during that difficult time, she continued to offer me invaluable support. We met one final time, outdoors in her garden (practicing social distancing), and as we parted ways, I told her that not only had I found a mentor in her during my time at Duke, but also a friend. She responded with the same warmth and grace that I will always cherish.

Professor Longino's influence on my academic and personal life will never be forgotten, and her legacy will continue to inspire me—and so many others—for years to come.

Filippo Screpanti, Ph.D. (2020)

Romance Studies and Literature Professor Toril Moi

Michèle was a dear friend. I have known her since the late 1980s, and miss her very much. She was a woman of courage and determination, and with an impeccable sense of elegance. She had an unusual gift for friendship.

Saskia Ziolkowski, Associate Professor, Romance Studies

Michèle Longino was an incredible departmental member and I imagine everyone had the pleasure of sitting next to her at multiple events, which she continued to attend after retirement. Her frequent presence reflects her kindness and wide intellectual curiosity that encompassed multiple time periods and languages. She and I exchanged and talked about our syllabi for Venice International University, where she taught repeatedly, most recently in 2019 with her courses “Venice in World Literature,” and “Venice Signatures: Masks and Traces.” When Igiaba Scego was on campus, Michèle shared that she had been a Peace Corps volunteer in 1969 in Somalia (Kismayo, but she also spent time in Mogadishu), sent there because of her Italian. In addition to her geographical range, revealed by her own travels and extensive comparative work, Michèle also had a wealth of knowledge about Duke’s history. She shared this expertise, especially in terms of women’s experiences, on several occasions. She will be much missed.