Like its publisher, Corrected Slogans sidles curiously between print and digital.

Historian John Tresch’s first book, The Romantic Machine, concerns itself with complicating the binary invoked by its title: the opposition, long entrenched in Western culture, between the romantic and the mechanical, and all of the ancillary antagonisms that this divide conjures—emotion versus reason, spirit versus matter, artists versus technocrats.

In the early months of 2010, a trove of loose-leaf paper was discovered in Louise Bourgeois’s Chelsea apartment. Marked with pen, pencil, and typewriter ink, the pages featured a fluent blend of French and English prose, punctuated by an occasional drawing.

Editor John Burnham makes his claim boldly in the collection’s opening pages: far from an addendum, America was the nation where Freud’s insights enjoyed the greatest cultural purchase and the most enduring institutional embrace.

Timed to Agnes Martin’s long-term installation at Dia:Beacon, this essay collection, organized by Dia’s staff, seeks to distill the essential ambivalences of Martin’s production: those pendent questions of what her art really means.

Famed anarchist Emma Goldman led the sort of life biographers dream of. Born in imperial Russia in 1869, Goldman arrived stateside in 1885, where her anti-authoritarian sympathies incubated among the émigré radicals of New York’s Lower East Side.

Laments about the grammar gaffes of others are really laments about them as people: their intelligence, their politics, even their ethics. When it comes to language, we do, and should, take it personally.