This past week, I had the honor of attending and presenting at the British Society for Eighteenth-Century Studies’ (BSECS) Annual Conference. While I’ve attended a few undergraduate-focused conferences in the past, this was my first experience at a larger, professional gathering, filled with both tenured scholars and early-career researchers alike.
This year’s theme was “Big and Small,” chosen partly to mark the 300th anniversary of Jonathan Swift’s Gulliver’s Travels. Beyond Gulliver’s voyages to lands of the literally big and small (Brobdingnag and Lilliput), the question of size was a key one in the Enlightenment, as thinkers developed new systems of classification and understandings of human place in the larger universe. Seeing how such a seemingly playful idea like size could open rich intellectual territory, I was inspired to frame my own research within the theme.
This connection between playful ideas and serious scholarship led me to explore whether my own work on Macaulay could speak to the theme of ‘Big and Small.’ Truth be told, back in the summer, while researching British academic societies I might join once I moved to London, I came across BSECS and saw they were accepting submissions for the January conference. Without much hesitation, and with the conference’s theme immediately striking me as fitting, I submitted a proposal titled, “Big Ideas of Liberty and History in Catharine Macaulay’s Little-Known Corpus.”
By presenting this research, I hoped to contribute to wider conversations about overlooked Enlightenment thinkers, situating Macaulay within ongoing debates in eighteenth-century studies. Although she was famous in her own time, Macaulay largely fell into obscurity during the nineteenth and much of the twentieth century. Only in recent decades, thanks to the work of early female historians, has she begun to receive recognition for her contributions to the intellectual fabric of the eighteenth-century. My paper examined her first two volumes of History, arguing that Macaulay used classicism as a political language to claim historical authority, articulate a transhistorical vision of liberty across time, and negotiate the problem of gender in republican thought.
Presenting this research at the BSECS conference allowed me not only to situate my work within wider scholarly conversations but also to observe recurring themes across eighteenth-century studies. Here are my main takeaways:
Current Themes in Eighteenth-Century Studies
After attending the BSECS conference, I felt reinvigorated as a scholar. Not only did I enjoy all the panels I attended, but, given that BSECS is an interdisciplinary society, I truly learned a lot.
First, I was pleased to discover that time and temporality appear to be a current area of interest for many scholars. Classical reception studies, which often revolve around questions of temporal frameworks (I am always particularly drawn to Brooke Holmes’ concept of a “liquid antiquity”), bring forth questions that I found mirrored across BSECS. Whether it be hearing about the “time regime” of William Godwin (the so-called father of anarchism), the discovery of “deep time” for eighteenth-century geologists, or the legacies of American painter John Singleton Copley’s The Defeat of the Floating Batteries at Gibraltar, September 1782, it seemed innumerable scholars were interested in time and temporality.
These discussions of temporal frameworks often went hand in hand with a growing scholarly interest in previously marginalized or under-represented voices, highlighting how eighteenth-century scholarship is both expanding and correcting traditional narratives. Dr. Annabelle Gilmore, who presented on my panel, gave a paper titled, “Faith in Baptism: Esther Smith and the Role of Religious and Baptism in Eighteenth-Century Black History,” for example. Her work drew on historical theory pioneered by thinkers like Saidiya Hartman or Marisa Fuentes, wherein Gilmore drew on principles of critical fabulation to begin to piece together the story of an enslaved woman, Esther Smith, who petitioned for her baptism whilst living in England. (If you haven’t already, I really recommend reading Hartman’s Venus in Two Acts or Fuentes Dispossessed Lives to better understand and engage with this type of scholarship). Other panels had titles like “Swift, Scandal, and Sexuality,” and explored under-researched histories of sexuality and secrets in the eighteenth-century, demonstrating that the field is increasingly attentive to voices and experiences that have long been overlooked.
These themes of time and inclusivity naturally intersected with another major trend: the global perspective. Even at a British-focused conference, many scholars situated their work within broader transnational or Atlantic contexts. From my own engagement with Macaulay against a larger Atlantic backdrop to panels exploring Asia and global cultural exchange, it was clear that eighteenth-century studies is moving beyond strictly national narratives. This perspective both complements and challenges my own research, encouraging me to think in terms of networks, movements, and ideas that cross borders and oceans.
The British Perspective
As I considered these thematic currents, I also became aware of a different lens through which eighteenth-century studies are approached – the distinct perspectives of British scholars compared to my American framework.
While I only heard one or two other American accents during the duration of the conference, I found British perspectives on eighteenth-century studies to be refreshing. I found that, despite having spent most of the Fall working to better understand the English Civil War, I still don’t have anywhere near a perfect grasp of Early Modern British History. Or, I noticed that I was not as familiar with British novelists as I might be with American ones. I even learned about new intellectual thinkers, who I hadn’t previously encountered in my personal research (William Godwin especially stands out in this respect).
But more than my personal lapses in knowledge, I found that British scholars seemed to handle some theoretical differences or thematic significances far differently than American scholars did. For instance, whereas I frequently draw on language emphasizing the Atlantic, I found many scholars used the term less frequently, or perhaps looked to connections between their topic and wider Europe, before they might look across an Ocean. An always obvious example might be the reframing of the American Revolution as the War for American Independence, an event which I only heard referenced just a few times (I find myself constantly playing into some American stereotype wherein I make frequent reference to the Revolution which, although justified by my work and its context, stands in stark contrast to that which I heard whilst at BSECS). Experiencing these perspectives challenged my historiological assumptions and helped me consider alternative ways to frame my own work.
The other significant difference between American and British intellectuals seemed to be the broader context of our academic lives. Unlike the constant threat of funding cuts or political interference in the U.S., the BSECS conference environment felt comparatively stable. Some scholars spoke about challenges with their visas and travel logistics when visiting the United States, but the pervasive anxiety I often felt, and I am sure many other American scholars currently feel, around government funding or censorship was largely absent. This contrast underscored how fortunate I am to have a funded research year abroad and reminded me how significant geographical and political context may shape scholarly practice.
Experiencing such a perspective shift challenged my own scholarly assumptions and helped me consider alternative ways to frame my own work and thinking. But beyond these lessons in perspective, I was equally impressed by how supportive the conference was toward early-career scholars, which made engaging with the field even more rewarding.
BSECS Early Career Support
I wanted to make sure I emphasized and gave thanks to BSECS for being so welcoming and supportive of early-career researchers and academics. I found myself among dozens of doctoral-level or MA students, all of whom were presenting exciting work that actively complicates our current understandings of the eighteenth-century. BSECS even had a built-in mentoring program that matched young academics to established scholars. I was paired with Dr. Chloe Wingston Smith, who not only delivered the conference’s keynote address but was an incredibly helpful mentor, a thoughtful presenter, and an extremely impressive scholar.
This supportive environment extended to my own panel. Though I initially worried that my paper might not be taken seriously, I was met with encouragement, thoughtful questions, and collegial conversation. The Q&A allowed me to explore connections between my work on Macaulay’s Histories and the Bluestocking circle, Macaulay’s renunciation of slavery, and her gendered political thought. Experiencing this level of engagement reinforced how vital community and mentorship are to the development of early-career researchers much like myself, and how lucky I was to have stumbled upon BSECS in the first place.
The Experience of Giving a Paper
The act of presenting itself was both nerve-wracking and exhilarating. While I had not been nervous (at all) prior to the day on which I presented, about an hour beforehand I suddenly felt like there must have been one million butterflies in my stomach. Not to worry – it all went just fine. I found it helpful to practice presenting my paper a few times before I gave it, and to try my best to look up and make eye contact with the crowd during portions of the paper I found to be easier to read and remember.
Once I had presented, I thought the rest of the session went smoothly. Upon reflecting on the panel afterward, I realized how much I had learned from simply being present: observing others’ methods, questions, and insights enriched my understanding of the field, and conversations after the panel helped deepen connections I had already begun to make. For instance, Phillis Wheatley ended up making a surprise appearance as a historical actor that both my co-panelist and I found connections to in our research and general thinking about the eighteenth-century. So too did I speak with the chair of my panel for about an hour after my session about his own doctoral thesis on the bluestockings. He very generously sent me PDF copies of both his thesis and a subsequent publication, which touched on bluestocking engagement with classical antiquity and their conservative feminism. I found that almost everyone I interacted with at the conference was very friendly and so excited and happy to talk about their work with me!
Venue
Last but not least, I was so fortunate to attend BSECS at Pembroke College, Oxford. The Pembroke College campus was not only gorgeous, but it shared a name with Pembroke College, Cambridge (where I had studied abroad). I personally thought the dining hall was delicious (I had some of the best breaded tofu I’ve ever had, as well as a really nice vegan pie, which I am normally too scared to try). It was also only a short walk from Oxford’s main train station, so it was nice and easy for me to commute to and from London.
Conclusion
All in all, I had a really wonderful experience at BSECS. From observing recurring themes across panels to learning from British perspectives on the eighteenth-century, to engaging with early-career mentors, and presenting my own research, every moment offered an opportunity to grow as a scholar. The conference reminded me why I love eighteenth-century studies: for its richness, interdisciplinarity, and the communities of scholars and support that make it all possible. I left inspired, challenged, and grateful for the generosity of the scholars I met, and I would wholeheartedly recommend this experience to anyone interested in the field.