University of Georgia Press

Black on Earth: African American Ecoliterary Traditions

annette — Sun, 17 Apr 2011 20:00:00 +0000

African American literary contribution to the national conception of nature, in all of its symbolic ambiguity and historical twists and turns, is a subject that has been little studied. In fact, African American writers have contributed profoundly to our popular understanding of nature and to our ecological concern. Kimberly Ruffin’s book must confront the notion that modern ecological movements have been the exclusive province of privileged white people—that African American people have had little to do with the natural world as writers or advocates. To challenge this assumption, she redefines nature and ecological thought as it has applied to the experience of African American people throughout American history, as articulated by artists both well known and obscure.

This transformation in our understanding begins with a recent anecdote concerning the “Jena Six” incident in Louisiana in 2006. When high school students sought shade under what had been designated “the white tree,” they were subsequently threatened with nooses hanging from it. A tree is, indeed, a source of comfort, a sign of natural beauty with practical value. But it is also—sorry, Joyce Kilmer—emblematic of lynching and a history of terror aimed at African American people. The author points out that rather than preserving the tree as a “troubled relic,” school officials cut it down, presumably in an effort to prevent further trouble and to erase this living monument to racial injustice.

If many African Americans have felt estranged from mainstream environmentalism, Ruffin argues, it is because people themselves—“the most precious of natural resources”—seem to have been excluded from the discourse. The author cites Wangari Maathai’s Green Belt Movement as a model for a new way of thinking about environmentalism, a “human-sensitive” activism that advocates simultaneously for people and the land. She argues that people of African descent have had both the burden and the blessing of being themselves seen as natural; whereas too often people of European descent have viewed themselves as radically separate from nature, a realm to be tamed and controlled or, later, to be visited for leisure.

Another critical point that she makes is that pre-twentieth-century Americans knew nature through work. The connection to the land was forged through labor, with both the body and the landscape part of the same “bioregion.” Similarly, nature has been inextricably involved in human efforts to achieve social justice and to escape from enslavement. She demonstrates that environmental degradation has disproportionately harmed the disenfranchised, but a detailed knowledge of the environment was instrumental, for example, in helping enslaved people establish routes to freedom. African American writing also reveals the extent to which the natural world provided sources of healing—the “wild-growing medicines” that are so much a part of cultural tradition and folklore.

Ruffin revisits the contributions of George Washington Carver, whose intense scrutiny of the natural world led to a unified view of science and religion, a balance between practical knowledge of the natural world and human spirituality. This balance is displayed in the myths written into the African American ecoliterary traditions about food and medicine and many different aspects of life, and they still are made manifest in community urban gardens, for example. The ultimate aim is an environmentalism that fully incorporates social justice as its aim, a natural world that includes humanity.

Written by: Rick Taylor, April 17th 2011

Bloomberg’s New York: Class and Governance in the Luxury City

brittany — Fri, 08 Apr 2011 20:00:00 +0000

By Julian Brash

University of Georgia Press

Julian Brash’s Bloomberg’s New York is an anthropological study of Mayor Michael Bloomberg and his administration’s implementation of a particular type of neoliberal urban governance (the “Bloomberg Way”) since taking office in 2002, “branding and marketing the city as a luxury good,” an agenda aimed not only at “advancing the economic elite’s class interests” but in shaping the culture and geography of the city of New York by prioritizing this demographic. A thoughtful and rigorous analysis of class, urban development, and neoliberal governance in the context of New York City during the Bloomberg years, Bloomberg’s New York is a thought-provoking read primarily aimed at scholars of urban studies.

Brash’s work interestingly contextualizes the politics of governance in New York City in its “post-fiscal crisis era” but also shows how this paved the way for an individual like Michael Bloomberg (the “CEO as Mayor”) to take on the mayoralty of the Big Apple. The most interesting section of Brash’s work is the more theoretical chunk of this book, which employs an analysis of Bloomberg’s governance style—the Bloomberg Way—of running New York City “like a business,” viewing residents as “clients” and branding the city itself as a product to be marketed to a select demographic. The penultimate section of Brash’s study is a close look at the Bloomberg administration’s promotion of the Hudson Yards plan, contextualized by elite driven redevelopment drives in New York. Brash also illuminates with extensive ethnographic evidence the deeply contested public debates that surrounded the city’s bid to host the 2012 Olympics, highlighting differing perceptions of New Yorkers of what this meant for New York, and pointing the reader to the ruptures that this debate revealed in economic, political, cultural, and other differences between New Yorkers which have long characterized the fabric of this city.

Brash’s meticulous uncovering of the mechanics of class interests underpinning the shaping of the cultural, economic and political space of global cities is in the context of New York, but certainly poses important questions applicable to both urban scholarship of other cities and in furthering our understanding of class as a unit of analysis. For example, Brash calls for a more rigorous interrogation of the interests of the “transnational capitalist class” (or “TCC”)—shorthand for the owners of globalized means of production—and how these interests have a physical and cultural impact on the local spaces in which these classes are formed, live and work. His injunction not to “abstract” elite class interests from the physical spaces they inhabit comes as an important reminder in a time where their transnational mobility (enabled by the travel and technology that global capital allows) can easily allows us to forget the increasingly bigger and more powerful role that private enterprise and business interests have on the physical shaping and growth of cities today.

From a feminist perspective, it is important to note that Brash uses class as his primary unit of analysis but declares at the outset that his understanding of the term extends beyond its use as the individual’s relation to the means of production and that class is mediated by a range of other factors such as race, gender, and sexuality. While he acknowledges how class relationships may be displaced by other identities (such as gender), his own analysis is not necessarily engaged in these debates for the purposes of his book.

Written by: Kaavya Asoka, April 8th 2011

Marion Manley: Miami's First Woman Architect

priyanka — Fri, 10 Dec 2010 12:00:00 +0000

By Catherine Lynn, Carie Penabad

University of Georgia Press

Marion Manley was not merely Miami’s first female architect, she also played a crucial role in the area’s planning. Responsible for much of the design of the University of Miami—dubbed “the first modern university”—Manley was also a pioneer in what we now call “green building” and ecological preservation.

Authors Catherine Lynn and Carie Penabad, both professors of architecture at the University of Miami—where Manley spent much of the 1940s designing a wide variety of buildings, from housing for veterans to student worship centers—have done much to bring Manley’s legacy back into the spotlight. This beautiful book, complete with photos and artist renderings of the buildings Manley designed, also includes technical details that architects and design-buffs will appreciate. Above all, however, it’s an overdue tribute to a woman who accomplished so much so far ahead of her time.

Throughout most of her career, though she was a groundbreaking professional, Manley’s work was largely eclipsed by lower-ranking men in her field. She got little credit for the work she did—which was impressive not just because it was a first for her gender, but for their architectural and technical merit—and what credit she got, she had to fight for. Working into her eighties (Manley died in 1984 at age ninety), Manley also served on numerous state and national boards and commissions, donated her design work for charitable causes, and did professional work to support the war efforts in WWI and WWII.

Though I enjoyed the book, I would have loved to have read more about Manley’s personal life. The authors throw out teasers now and then (her “cussing out” of incompetent contractors, and telling interviewers that she was “a hedonist” in her eighties both come to mind), but for the most part stick to the straightforward—and at times, dry—account of her work. Nevertheless, it is a step toward restoring Manley’s contributions to their rightful place in design history.

There is precious little to be found about Manley on the internet; most of what does exist is related to this book. Let us hope, then, that this tome on her body of professional work spurs a renewed interest in Manley and her accomplishments.

Written by: M.L. Madison, December 10th 2010

Ultra-Talk: Johnny Cash, The Mafia, Shakespeare, Drum Music, St. Teresa of Avila, and 17 Other Colossal Topics of Conversation

admin — Thu, 05 Jul 2007 13:43:00 +0000

By David Kirby

University of Georgia Press

In the introduction to Ultra-Talk, David Kirby writes, “What I offer in these pages is a way to read, see, and savor, a post-theoretical world view that everybody can share.” That is a strong assertion, and though this collection of essays covers diverse and interesting ground, Kirby doesn’t quite live up to his goal.

Elsewhere in the introduction, the author defines a set of criteria for what is “good”: that which “must not only appeal to both the elite and the public…it must also have a track record.” This criteria, presumably, sets the stage for the subject matter he will present in this “book of king-sized cultural monuments.” It is true that the variety of subjects does not disappoint; from Walt Whitman to Saint Teresa of Avila to Nascar to the reality show Big Brother, Kirby delights with his surprising turns and associative logic. Despite his efforts to speak across racial and class boundaries, however, Kirby succeeds in speaking directly, and only, to white, middle-class, academically-inclined readers.

Most of these compositions are a compelling blend of personal essay and literary or cultural criticism; they manage to both entertain and inform, which is a difficult task. Each essay reaches farther than the typical personal essay—start with a hook-y personal anecdote, then move outward toward some larger truth about life or human nature—and attempts not only to contemplate big questions, but also to educate readers in the process. I found Kirby’s explorations of Dante, Whitman, Shakespeare and Dickinson fascinating. But then again, I read those authors extensively during my academic career. Aside from the sporadic, required high school poetry lessons that many teenagers sleep through, most Americans, arguably, have not. By assuming that his reader is well-versed in classic literature, Kirby excludes much of his potential audience.

My point is that Kirby perhaps shoots himself in the foot with the grandiose definition his book presents in the introduction. It’s not that this collection of essays is bad. I, as a white, middle-class, academically-inclined person, very much enjoyed Kirby’s whimsical yet didactic tone and unique perspective on popular culture. The essay “Why Does It Always Have to Be a Boy Baby” was particularly well-crafted in its refusal both to endorse and to criticize religion, opting instead to examine the intrinsic role religion plays in every person’s life, whether or not s/he is a willing participant.

Kirby, a poet and literature professor, is skilled at making intellectual subject matter interesting and accessible. I simply wonder: is his “post-theoretical world view” really one “that everybody can share?”

Written by: Sarah Hudgens, July 5th 2007

New Cultural Studies: Adventures in Theory

admin — Wed, 13 Jun 2007 19:35:00 +0000

Edited by Gary Hall, Clare Birchall

University of Georgia Press

New Cultural Studies is an exciting call to action from writers concerned about the future of the field of cultural studies. Since cultural studies is ever living and should be evolving along with other subjects, we must never stop developing new theories and using cultural studies as a framework about contemporary issues in politics, economics, the media, etc. This text looks beyond the distinguished Birmingham School’s theoretical work toward today’s greatest minds, such as Alain Badiou, Giorgio Agamben and Gilles Deleuze. Chapters are dedicated to cultural studies in the context of subjects such as Deconstruction, Post-Marxism, Ethics, German Media Theory, Anti-Capitalism, New Media and the Posthumanities.

In the place where a reader can usually find a book’s introduction, Hall and Birchall present the first chapter: "New Cultural Studies: Adventures in Theory (Some Comments, Clarifications, Explanations, Observations, Recommendations, Remarks, Statements, and Suggestions)." This section provides an invaluable text for anyone interested in the future of cultural studies, particularly those interested in working in academia. The authors’ summary of the ten reasons why “the time is right to move ‘beyond theory’” by itself is worth the price of the book. The chapter by Joanna Zylinska on cultural studies and ethics is also phenomenal; she opens up a much-needed dialogue about how people on the Left can respond to “the moralization of politics.” As a graduate student studying gender and cultural studies, I felt so fortunate to have read this book because it enlightened me about so many facets and theorists in the field that I had previously never come across.

Written by: Kerri Kanelos, June 13th 2007

Georgia's Frontier Women : Female Fortunes in a Southern Colony

admin — Fri, 01 Jun 2007 12:57:00 +0000

By Ben Marsh

University of Georgia Press

I found this book difficult to read. I am not used to the academic tone Marsh uses. His sentences seemed to go on for several lines, and I had trouble following the thread of his ideas. However, this book is worth reading for anyone interested in Georgia history. The information presented is important. The book shows women's economic contributions and status, and how the things early settlers did have affected the state up until the present day.

Georgia was founded in 1732 by a charter of King George II. He appointed a group of trustees to supervise its settlement. Women were expected to fill several key roles. First and foremost was reproduction. The trustees wanted women to help grow the population. In addition, they were to work in the silk trade and carry out domestic duties. Marsh uses statistical and anecdotal data to show how women met these goals. The result is an informative, useful book which must be read slowly and carefully. Those who take the time to look into it will find it rewarding.

In discussing the lives of women in Georgia, Marsh also describes the roots of feminism in pre-feminist times. I was able to admire his dedication to the subject. At times it seemed there was too much information. There are tables on birth and death rates, immigration by gender, Georgia's early black population and other factors. The sheer amount of data makes the book worth keeping and re-reading. Its best use might be as a reference for other writers and for students.

Written by: Steve Watson, June 1st 2007

The Hanging of Angelique

admin — Mon, 30 Apr 2007 11:54:00 +0000

By Afua Cooper

University of Georgia Press

The history of Canadian black slavery is a story quite often untold. The Hanging of Angelique opens the doors to the unknown. After fifteen years of research, Afua Cooper brings to light the “untold story of Canadian slavery and the burning of Old Montreal”.

Cooper weaves together crucial historical facts that are often unspoken, and similar to the many stories that Americans have heard over time. The sad and intricate life of a black woman who, at only 29 years young, was full of despair and discovered a longing within herself to be set free. But at what cost? After a catastrophic fire was set to old Montreal, Marie Joseph Angelique, a Portuguese black slave, was accused of setting the fire.

Cooper leaves the ending unspoken: “Did Angelique set the fire? Your guess is as good as mine.” But her intricately detailed research tells the story for her. It’s the writing of Cooper that is pleasantly appeasing as you dive deep into a historical conundrum of right versus wrong.

The detailed filled story offers a new look into the life of Angelique and gives readers a well defined idea of exactly what slavery was like in Canada in 1734. It allows the reader to see a glimpse of the life that Angelique struggled with on daily basis and leaves the unspoken whisper in the back of your mind: Did she do it? What would I do?

Cooper tells the story of a woman who refused to fit into the role that has been chiseled for her and her sad demise while creating the big picture that shows what exactly it meant to be a black slave woman in Canada.

Considered to be the “oldest slave narrative in the New World,” The Hanging of Angelique will leave you with a saddened and somber idea of what a black Canadian woman’s place was at that time, and the lack of identity that you were free to call your own. Cooper gently nudges the readers through the novel and as you turn the final page, you’ll feel the oppressive hands of slavery around your ankles, slowly pulling you underwater until the light has completely dimmed.

Written by: Megan Blair, April 30th 2007

Romancing the Vote: Feminist Activism in American Fiction, 1870-1920

admin — Fri, 06 Apr 2007 01:28:00 +0000

By Leslie Petty

University of Georgia Press

Leslie Petty has written a scholarly text that examines a particular set of novels from the late 19th through early 20th century that depict politically active women and intended for those involved in the women’s movement. She argues that through these types of novels, the texts themselves helped to create and sustain these movements.

Petty has done a exceptional job of shedding light on this heretofore “submerged” tradition. Through research and analysis, she looks at several texts from that era including, Out of Her Sphere (1871) by Elizabeth Boynton Harbert, Fettered for Life (1874) by Lillie Devereaux Blake, Iola Leroy by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper, The Bostonians by Henry James and many others.

This fascinating text begins by defining those whom would most likely be appealed to for joining the ranks of the feminist movement, namely white middle-class women, while women of color are conveniently pushed further to the margin, and race relations in these novels becomes what Petty describes as the “absent present.” However, in true feminist fashion, Petty also includes marginalized voices who championed for the inclusion of humans of all walks of life who would benefit from the women’s rights movement.

Petty’s work goes on to look at several other novels through the early 20th century, including The Bostonians by Henry James, the only novel of this particular tradition that is a part of the American literary canon. Her work is presented in an academic tone, with strong evidence to support her assertion that these literary novels helped to add new members to the women’s activist movement while also sustaining the existing members. If the artists and writers are the pulse of a nation, then surely the artists and writers can also create that pulse.

Written by: Margaret Muñoz Garza, April 5th 2007

Journey Toward Justice: Juliette Hampton Morgan and the Montgomery Bus Boycott

admin — Sun, 11 Mar 2007 12:52:00 +0000

By Mary Stanton

University of Georgia Press

For those of us who remember the Civil Rights struggle of the '60s and '70s, this book is a valuable reminder of just where life stood back then, how far we’ve come and how much further we still have to go. Journey Toward Justice is the intimate story of one woman’s emerging awareness of the injustice permeating the life of her community and the development of a conscience that would not be denied.

This story shows clearly where women were back then and the courage required to step outside an appointed role. It shows how determined the white majority were to maintain the status quo, how courageous were those determined to effect change. Most women today don’t know what it meant to be a second class citizen, to know that career opportunities were limited to nurse (not doctor or hospital administrator), teacher (never principal), secretary (period) or librarian. And this was for middle-class white women.

Juliette Hampton Morgan starts out as an eminently likable young woman. As her story unfolds she becomes an eminently admirable one as well. Her story reads more like a novel than a real-life story. Her childhood was shadowed by family conflict - her young adulthood tainted by family responsibilities and sacrifices she shouldered - which makes the reader burn at the injustice of the demands made. Through it all she was sustained by the lifelong friendships she made, many of them in the organizations she joined or helped establish while seeking to better her community.

Working as a librarian, Juliette took the bus to her work and, in doing so, began to observe not just the segregation, but the ill treatment accorded black riders. In protest, she began getting off the bus every time she witnessed a bus driver cheating or abusing black riders. This brought no change, so she began writing letters to the editor of the local newspaper.

Since Juliette knew the editor, her letters were published. What followed was not a concerted campaign on her part, but a series of eloquent letters written over time in support of desegregation. Her letters were not written to be published, but as the personal expression of someone distressed by the inequities she witnessed,and her prognosis for a future vastly improved by allowing equal access to publicly funded education, transportation and housing. During the second World War she wrote that if a black man was good enough to die for his country, surely he deserved a seat on the bus.

As events around Juliette escalated, she refused to change her position, refused to “shut up” and resolutely stood her ground, despite the toll it took on her physical health. It eventually cost her her life.

Written by: Margaret E. Guthrie, March 11th 2007

Real Punks Don’t Wear Black

admin — Fri, 29 Dec 2006 13:29:00 +0000

By Frank Kogan

University of Georgia Press

In Real Punks Don’t Wear Black, Frank Kogan, noted rock critic and publisher of popular fanzine Why Music Sucks, dishes up heaping platefuls of malcontent, angst, sniping critical analysis, and anti-intellectual rants in a dizzying mishmash of essays, lists, reviews, and salvos focusing on an eclectic menu of singers and bands. Kogan loves to ask "Why?" while pondering the intricate mysteries of the music universe: "Why is music what it is? Why did it suck at times, particularly in the 80s, and succeed at other times? Why do punks destroy themselves?" Throughout the book, Kogan, whose favorite music is "basically Stones through Stooges and Dolls, or Sex Pistols too" dedicates pages of painstaking critical analysis to the societal role of the critic. He places music critics on the same elevated pedestal as rock stars, claiming: "Rock critics do the same thing that an Elvis or Jagger or Eminem does: They put themselves at issue, their personalities, their social stances, and in so doing force the reader into an attitude towards them." Kogan’s essays never fail to shock, amaze, or question, and his critical reviews are probing and often surprising. Teenybopper icon, Mariah Carey, appears to have either messed with Kogan’s mind or tickled his libido. In a bring-on-the-insulin critical review, a smitten Kogan sweetly describes Carey as: "A sexy waif, sitting in the corner." In another Carey critique, written for the San Francisco Bay Guardian, Kogan wrote: "Most people I know hate her. Her show-biz garishness irritates them. Too bad. They’re missing the excitement." Diehard music fans will either love or loathe Kogan’s spin on artists ranging from the Rolling Stones to DMX, and culture vultures will feast on his in-the-trenches pop culture reminiscences. Why don’t real punks wear black? It’s all inside. Read the book.

Written by: Rachelle Nones, December 29th 2006