Splitting his time between the US and Brazil, Pedro Meira Monteiro’s career has seen him engage with a variety of academic fields. After earning a degree in social sciences from UNICAMP in 1993, he went on to complete a master’s in sociology (1996) and a PhD in literary theory (2001), both funded by FAPESP. For more than 20 years, Monteiro has taught literature at Princeton. Last year, he also became a resident researcher at the Guita and José Mindlin Brasiliana Library at the University of São Paulo (BBM-USP). In this capacity, he teamed with Hélio de Seixas Guimarães from USP’s School of Philosophy, Languages and Literature, and Human Sciences to host the colloquium “New Communities, New Collections” last May. The concept was a success, leading to a second installment in October. In an interview with Pesquisa FAPESP, Monteiro discusses the initiative and its aim to rethink institutional archives and build bridges with community-led archival projects.
What has your experience at BBM-USP been like?
Very rewarding. One highlight was co-organizing the colloquium “New Communities, New Collections” with Hélio Guimarães. One of the first edition’s speakers was Ana Flávia Magalhães Pinto from UnB [University of Brasília], now director of the National Archives. She is the first woman of color to head the institution, which dates back to the early nineteenth century in Rio de Janeiro. Magalhães Pinto is currently facilitating a series of discussions on ways to incorporate community archives into the institution’s holdings. Other participants included Fernando Acosta-Rodríguez, librarian for Latin American collections at Princeton’s Firestone Library; Mário Augusto Medeiros da Silva, director of UNICAMP’s Edgard Leuenroth Archive; Paul Losch, field director for the Office of the Library of Congress in Rio de Janeiro; and João Cardoso, curator of BBM-USP collections. We explored themes like the nature of memory, what is preserved and forgotten, and who has the authority to classify and organize documents. This was originally planned as a one-off event, but ultimately led to another.
How so?
The audience included representatives from both established institutions and emerging, independent groups — many based in underserved areas, working to develop local archives and libraries under difficult conditions. Their powerful stories highlighted innovative approaches that challenge traditional cataloging and preservation practices. Hélio and I were so inspired by these ideas that we decided to hold a second edition in October, this time flipping the script: several audience members from the first event became featured speakers. Among them were Fernando Filho, Renata Eleutério, and Adriano Sousa of the Guaianás Center for Historical Research and Documentation [CPDOC], which chronicles São Paulo’s far-eastern districts such as Guaianases and Cidade Tiradentes; Marcos Tolentino from the Bajubá Archive, an initiative founded in Brasília in 2010 and now operating in São Paulo to preserve the memory of Brazil’s LGBT+ community; Thamires Ribeiro de Oliveira of Rio’s Museu da Maré, which has preserved the history of local favelas since 2006; Paula Salles of Casa do Povo [SP]; and José Carlos Ferreira of Salvador’s Zumví Photographic Archive. The National Archives director also joined once again. These discussions examined the role of community archives and how established institutions ought to address the evolving profiles of researchers and emerging topics centered on Black, Indigenous, and marginalized communities.
What challenges do community archives encounter?
They face many, starting with recognition. For instance, representatives of these archives are currently drafting a petition to ensure these initiatives are explicitly addressed in Bill No. 2,789 of 2021, which will overhaul Brazil’s 1991 National Policy on Public and Private Archives.
Why is rethinking institutional archives in Brazil so important?
Reflecting back on the 22 years since I left for the US, I see how drastically Brazil has changed. Back then, university faculty and researchers were largely white. It was a far cry from today’s vibrant academic debates that are being catalyzed by the growing participation of Black, Indigenous, and marginalized communities in education and research. Large libraries and museums need to embrace collections that capture the memories of varied territories and identities.
How did you end up teaching at Princeton?
The opportunity arose quite unexpectedly. After earning my PhD in 2001, I was preparing to apply for faculty positions at Brazilian universities. Leaving the country wasn’t in my plans, but a colleague mentioned an opening at Princeton. I decided to give it a shot. I spent six months preparing, which included improving my English proficiency. I applied for the position, and was accepted. I’ve since built a career at Princeton but have always felt like I’m living a dual journey, with one foot in the US and the other in Brazil. My most significant research collaborations and projects have consistently been very much connected to Brazil.
What remains to be explored in literary studies?
The concept of literature itself requires a much deeper examination by scholars. Where does literature stand today? Does it still depend as heavily on physical books as it did 10 or 20 years ago? This is a central question that opens up many avenues of exploration, especially concerning the role of orality. This is a topic I’ve been reflecting on, and I’m currently planning to offer a doctoral seminar on audiobooks. Some suggest that younger generations, accustomed to multitasking and constant screen interaction, have developed a fragmented attention span, which complicates engagement with traditional books. Printed texts, after all, require deep, linear, and undivided focus. In this context, audiobooks — especially those featuring skilled voice actors and sophisticated production — are carving out a niche and could reshape the way we experience literature. Another theme I’ve been delving into is the connection between literature and plants, inspired by my role as a curator at the 2021 Paraty International Literary Festival. That edition, for the first time, didn’t celebrate a particular author but instead revolved around a central theme: the vegetal turn. Among the featured writers was South Korean author Han Kang, recently awarded the 2024 Nobel Prize in Literature.
What is the vegetal turn?
The vegetal turn is, in my view, one of the most exciting developments in post-humanist thought. It pushes back against the anthropocentric worldview that has long placed the individual at the center as the sole source of meaning. In the doctoral seminar I’m teaching at Princeton, we’re discussing this idea. The vegetal turn invites us to rethink the Western philosophical subject not as an isolated, self-contained being but as an integral part of a larger interconnected system. From this viewpoint, non-human entities—whether animate or inanimate—possess as much dignity and importance as humans in sustaining life. This conversation is especially timely as we grapple with the climate crisis and escalating fears about the planet’s future. The end of the world—or at least the end of a habitable world for us—feels constantly looming. The way we accelerate this process compels us to continually rethink our responsibilities and the very nature of what philosophy has termed as “being.”
