Marc Shell

Marc Shell Photograph by Stu Rosner Marc Shell is Babbitt professor of comparative literature, a professor of English, a MacArthur...

Marc Shell
Photograph by Stu Rosner

Marc Shell is Babbitt professor of comparative literature, a professor of English, a MacArthur Prize Fellow, and these days, as he puts it, “a more or less inaudible stutterer, or stammerer.” That he was “slow of speech” was conspicuous in his youth, when he failed the fourth grade in his hometown of Montreal. His school principal explained to him that stuttering was a “sure sign” of being mentally deficient. He had also had polio, which some local doctors thought lowered the IQ. Today, when he lectures to an anglophone audience in Montreal and finds himself about to stumble over an English word—“money,” say—he substitutes argent, perfectly legal in that bilingual place and a stutterer’s coping device called interlinguistic synonymy. He’s learned other such tactics and tells of them and of much else about this enigmatic disorder in his fascinating new book, Stutter (Harvard University Press). Shell works in several general areas. One is aesthetics and economics, where he has done a two-part study of “the internalization of monetary form in literature and philosophy,” starting with Heraclitus. Another is Renaissance studies, where he has written of sixteenth-century European politics and the works of Elizabeth I. A third is language and nationhood. His Harvard website notes, “Professor Shell says that these three areas are closely interrelated.” Shell is also co-director of the Longfellow Institute for the comparative study of the non-English languages and literatures of what is now the United States. He is married, with two grown children. These days his son, reports Shell, “is the only person I know who counts himself free to tease me about my speech.”

Most popular

After a final round of layoffs, University leaders say 165 staff jobs were eliminated across the division.

All That’s Unseen charts the Harvard graduate’s uneasy journey from Appalachia to Cambridge and back.  

Court finds the government’s arguments that the University continues to violate civil rights laws unpersuasive.

Explore More From Current Issue

A busy classroom filled with students working at computers, colorful decor, and a bright atmosphere.

In 2004, a frenzy spread across Harvard Yard in days. Four billion users later, we are only just catching up.

A woman with curly blonde hair sits casually against a stone wall, wearing a black top and jeans.

Chloe Chapin trains her Broadway costume designer’s eye on the history of men’s fashion.

A football player in a white jersey evades a defender in a green uniform on the field.

Despite personnel losses, Crimson captain Xaviah Bascon is upbeat about the 2026 season.