Indiana Books

Anyone who has ever enjoyed a novel by Thomas Keneally and wondered about his "inner man" will be richly rewarded by this perceptive, unpretentious, and often light-hearted memoir of life during his 17th year. The year 1952, was, he says, a "reckless, sweet, divinely hectic and subtly hormonal year...the most succulent and the most dangerous [year]," one which "lightly embarked on, [has] not to this day ceased to tease, govern and turn on me."

Capturing the confusion of adolescence, along with the trying on of roles, the dreams of the future, and his own willing surrender to aesthetic and otherworldly influences, he introduces the reader to his family, his school, his neighborhood, his church, and his psyche, as he "hungers for grandeur" and makes decisions which will ultimately affect the course of his life. Vividly depicting his friends, the Celestials, with whom he shares his last year at St. Pat's, a boys' day school about 15 miles outside of Sydney, he reveals himself, at seventeen, as an adequate athlete, an excellent writer, a devoted friend (especially to a blind student, the first ever to sit for the Leaving Certificate from a regular school), a dreamer of literary glory, a devout communicant, and a naïve worshipper-from-afar of the equally naïve Bernadette Curran.

With his characteristically astute eye for imagery and an acute sensitivity (born, in this case, of hindsight) to the pressures pushing him to become a priest, Keneally reconstructs this tumultuous year and the decisions he and his friends ultimately make about their futures. As the reader empathizes with the seventeen-year-old Keneally and appreciates both the atmosphere of Homebush in 1952 and the power of outside forces to affect his life, s/he also appreciates more fully the nature of the true creative urge and the urgency of its release. Less then ten years later, when Keneally's voice finally (and brilliantly) bursts forth, literary history begins a glorious new chapter. Though out-of-print, this book is readily available on Used sites, and Keneally lovers will find it unforgettable. Mary Whipple

In "Angola: The Anatomy of an Oil State," Anthony Hodges, describes, with exquisite detail, the rough transition to a Petro-Diamond economy in the worn-torn nation of Angola since the initiation of several peace agreements spanning the last decade. The book is a new edition of Hodges' 2001 text under a different title, "Angola: From Afro-Stalinism to Petro-Diamond Capitalism." The newer title is much more suitable as the previous title gave the impression that the history of the Marxist state of Augustino Neto is broadly covered, which it is not. The background history of Angola, for the most part, is summarized as Hodges focuses mainly on the last two decades of economic development. There are numerous tables and graphs, the text is well annotated, and it includes an excellent bibliography on the nation of Angola.

The book reads like a non-governmental organization policy paper at times, but I personally adore a dry style that dispenses with any distracting nuances. Several recent developments make this book a must-read for any students of economics and development in Africa. 1) Offshore petroleum and natural gas drilling, especially Ultra-Deep technologies, have rapidly increased off the Atlantic coast. Angola has pressed the corporations involved for a greater share in the development of its welfare infrastructure. Many of these corporations, notably Exxon-Mobile and BP, have agreed to develop the physical infrastructure, but have hesitated providing the manpower (doctors, nurses, teachers, etc.) necessary to staff these enterprises. 2) De Beers, the massive diamond corporation, has recently agreed to form a new diamond mining venture with the Angolan firm Endiama after having been forced out in 2001. Hodges' work in Angola: The Antomy of an Oil State, gives the proper history and context to understand these events.

Anthony Hodges was educated in economics at Oxford. As an associate at the Oxford Policy Management, Hodges specializes in the the post-colonial economies of Lusophonic Africa. He is currently at work advising the Department of Planning and Finance in the Republic of Mozambique.

Again, the pictures in the book are easy enough to use for my 3 year old. The information contained in the book is useful. We enjoy using this book and look forward to the spring and summer when we can travel further than our backyard.

This book is essential for any animation fan or scholar. It contains cross-referenced information which cannot be found anywhere else. In the week that I have owned it, I have used it at least ten times to find information I need. Now if only I had the budget to buy all of the animated films listed in the book! If you have any interest in animation at all, buy this book and become an expert!

The late, great, Maurice Natanson, himself a student and friend of Alfred Schutz, was told by Schutz, "Maybe you will discover that anonymity and death are the same." This profound thought underlies the entire text, as Natanson explores the causes and effects of anonymity (also called abstraction, typification, alienation, or as Dr. Martin Luther King has called it, "the darkness of nobody-ness").. Natanson reminds us that anonymity is not always a bad thing, but when it is instituted as a system upon unwilling participants, then it becomes problematic.

Also, I would recommend the work of Lewis R. Gordon, who adapts Schutz's and Natanson's theories of anonymity to discuss issues of antiblack racism and Africana thought. Gordon's "Existentia Africana," "Her Majesty's Other Children," and "Fanon and the Crisis of European Man" are suggested.

A real find for any student of Comparative literature or an interest in Turkish / Ottoman literature and culture. Probably the only complete anthology of it's type and definitely complied with love.

Its been a while since I read this book but I remember its very good on signification and offers something compatible with Bernard Montagne's "Analogy of Being" and a slight alternative to McInerny's views where modus significandi directly modifies res significata and they must be taken together to determine the significance. Analogy seems to apply to both the mode of signifying (and the way this is modified among the grades of analogy) and the thing signified in a way not made explicit by McInerny and more compatible with Montagne's "grades of being" pointing to God with names applied analogously (via emminence) to the thing. It seems to me to be a way of understanding or partially comprehending how all the transcendentals (being, one true good) refer to One thing relying on continuity of intelligiblity of different analogues (grades)and unity of reference.
Also an analysis of literary practice underscores the difference between seeing and knowing - in the sense that seeing and a general understanding of a thing (e.g. that Pretty girl) don't in themselves bring love in its fullness especially if you are in Ireland undertaking an Odyssey.

We are very fortunate indeed to have this book in print, in paperback. Sensitive and articulate, poet and Professor Annis Pratt explores the classic literary genre, the Bildungsroman, the young man's journey into the world and hence into himself, from the perspective of women characters in women's literature.

In doing so, she unveils the fact that women's challenges and tasks in poetry and life are different from men's and yield different fruit, necessary fruit. Her conclusion that one contemporary endpoint for women's individuation process can entail an encounter with an inner "green-world lover," describes a hopeful and erotic alternative to a stereotypical constricted adaptation.

Pratt's observation of the emergence of the "green-world lover archetype" in women's poetry goes beyond deconstructionist fantasies into the realm of finding meaning and purpose while planted right in the middle of life our lives on earth. Her observations also predict the possibility of a living reality that bridges the gap between the Knower and the Known, invites the emergence of the Self in relationship, and describes the concept of Intersubjectivity, now current in contemporary psychology.

The longstanding debate in the study of Middle East politics Area Studies and Social Science has divided schorlas in two general camps. Thos upporting the political economy approach (and its variations, i.e. State focused studies) such as James Waterbury, Roger Owens or Nazih Ayubi to mention some and those preferring a more cultural approach based on modernization theory typified by Bernard Lewis. This book edited by Mark Tessler aims to draw from the various approaches to establish a balanced view which combines the more scientific 'methods' of describing the Middle East through social science with the historical and local specificity of area studies. Tessler's aim is to sgow that neother approach works well in isolation and that, indeed, a combination of these two provides the most effective framework to the study of the Middle East. The one discipline adding the necessary context to the other's discipline.
The book features a collection of essays by noted scholars such as Lisa Anderson, Clement Henry and August Richard Norton (among others) which are invaluable to the specialist as well as those who have had less exposure to the debate. I especially enjoyed Lisa Anderson's essay in which she acknowledges some of the shortcomings of area studies and the need to combine more social science perspectives in the discipline. Nervetheless, the other essays are just as important and valuable.

This is an old and now out of print edition of John Harington's 1581 translation of "Orlando Furioso" the bizarre and wonderful epic-romance written earlier in the 16th century by Italian poet Ludovico Ariosto.

Harington's translation captures the wit and fantasy of Ariosto's strange poem in an easy to read and engaging verse format. Harington's poetry is usually at least functional, and often quite good, although he has his lapses into dull, plodding rhythms. Still, he is funny, ribald, yet with that false air of propriety the Elizabethans found necessary to mask their work.

Alas, no complete edition of Harington's translation exists that I know of. This edition contains the majority of the story of Orlando, as well as the story of Bradamante and Rogero. However, it is really just more than 1/3 of the total poem, with only 10 of the original 46 cantos, with excerpts from 7 more. That means that 29 cantos are completely absent from this text. Oh well. I guess there just isn't much demand for this work, which is a shame, because I feel like its fractured and absurdist narrative would appeal to modern sensibilities.