The Supreme Court’s dismantling of the last vestiges of the 1965 Voting Rights Act this spring in Louisiana v. Callais marked the end of an era—a retreat from the core civil rights commitment to draw electoral-district lines in a way that would ensure representation for racial minorities. It set off a pell-mell process of new gerrymanders that carved up majority-minority districts into fragments designed to dilute Democratic votes. This fall, Democrats will likely lose three seats in the House of Representatives as a result of the decision. The number of Black representatives will likely drop too. But for many on the left it also served as one more example of a longstanding complaint: that the Supreme Court has, more often than not, undermined American self-government and democracy. Read John Fabian Witt’s “What Role Should the Supreme Court Play in American Politics?”
Emily Brontë has never made herself the most approachable author—or person, for that matter. If you take Elizabeth Gaskell’s word for it, she was “never happy nor well but on the sweeping moors that gathered round her home—that hater of strangers, doomed to live amongst them.” Nobody knows what endowed her with such fierceness and strangeness or made her do what she did or write what she wrote. Even to her most devoted readers who have read nearly everything she wrote, she remains a mystery. In her new biography of the unknowable Emily, This Dark Night, Deborah Lutz doesn’t commit the prime biographical sin of trying to make Brontë too easy to understand or relate to. Instead, she asks more questions than she answers. Read Sarah Chihaya’s “Who Was Emily Brontë?”