Minnesota Books

In Death of a Nation, David Noble examines America's frequently-shifting foundational myths. This book offers an analysis of the ways in which artists, writers, and historians participated in building and changing American Exceptionalism, from the early national landscape themes, through what Noble repeatedly refers to as "bourgeois nationalism" to the present "international marketplace."

Noble tracks the rises, falls, and mid-life ideological conversions of prominent American historians, literary scholars, and artists. Many of his subjects are people he has personally known during his long career at the University of Minnesota, so the conversion stories are frequently quite vivid. Along the way, Noble's anecdotes about his colleagues highlight trends in thinking that contributed to America's changing foreign policy and domestic policy, as well as shifts in pop culture.

Death of a Nation is certainly a must-read for students of American Studies/American Civilization programs, or anyone who is curious about why America has become what it is today. Great insights.

After studying Urban Planning and then switching to Literature, I find myself continually concerned with the ways our spatial environment affects who we are. This interest made McKittrick's book a natural fit. Her careful attention to the ways that space, geography, and the ideas that shape Black women's existance all fit together to direct how they move about the world has changed the way I view every book I read.

It is an academic book, and even after years of graduate school it required a careful, methodical reading, but it was well worth the effort for the amazing amount of information she packs into such a slender book. Any student/fan of African American history or literature will find themselves well rewarded for the effort of immersing themselves in McKittrick's particular genius.

When reading of the locations Dennis goes to you feel you were in the back seat with him. He gives very vivid detail of exact places.
One place he reviewed was Manistee Michigan the Victorian Port City. the Milwaukee House was owned by Great Grandfather and Grandfather Diefenbach and we know the information was factual and interestingly portrayed.
There are many such articles that make you want to go to these byways he deplicts.

As a garden designer, I need the simple version. I picked up this book hoping to get some ideas for improving the borders around my home. I was delighted to find that the book exceeded my expectations . . . both in describing the principles of border design and in providing beautiful examples which I could use as templates.

The book contains twenty-four original border designs by the accomplished John Brookes, Rupert Golby, Penelope Hobhouse, Noel Kingsbury, Piet Oudolf and Sandra and Nori Pope. Each one brings a unique and fresh vision of borders that expanded my imagination enormously. The photographs by Mark Bolton make this book a treasure to have.

The designs begin with a rough sketch or the sort that even I could create. That eased my tension quite a lot. I once had a series of borders designed and the plans were exceptionally detailed and complex. Not being a draftsman, I had felt intimidated ever since about what could be accomplished. The photographs assume that many readers (and certainly including me) will not know what many of the plants are so you see examples to give you a feel of the appearance and shape of these plants. The designs make use of plants that I would never have considered including many foliage plants and colorful vegetables. It's inspiring. There's a good discussion of the conditions needed for each design and when blooms will occur and what colors will be available.

But the book goes beyond designing and helps you understand how to prepare and maintain your borders. There are excellent planting directions for how thickly to place the plants.

If you only read one book on borders, this one is a fine choice!

Kristine Miller's new book is the clearest, most concise and concrete discussion of issues around the definition of public space that I've encountered. Among the issues Miller explores are:

- What constitutes a public?
- How are law, regulation, rhetoric and design used to control who gets to use a space, and what they're allowed to do there?
- Just how is eminent domain - the state's prerogative to claim private property, for the ostensible benefit of the public - constructed?
- How can aesthetics be deployed to muddy the fact that an apparently private domain like the atrium at Trump Tower has in fact been paid for (and continues to be subsidized) by you and me, the public?

Each of these issues is brought to vivid life through well-chosen examples from the recent history of New York City, from the controversy over Richard Serra's "Tilted Arc" to the design-abetted, megacorp-friendly "renewal" of Times Square. Even though these conflicts are far from obscure, Miller's careful explication reveals facets of each that have hitherto not been well aired - for example, I was unaware of the bowderlization and betrayal of photographer Neil Selkirk's "Faces of 42nd Street" series until Miller reported on it. (Apparently, neither was Selkirk.)

In its distillation of some important ideas from Habermas and Lefebvre, "Designs on the Public" reminds us that the seemingly self-explanatory notion of "public space" is something continually in the process of being constructed, renegotiated, and challenged. It's a bracing, not always happy but absolutely crucial read: those of us who believe that democracy is something that happens in public are best served by understanding how very contingent access and the right to use can be. I've added it as required reading for the course I teach at NYU's Interactive Telecommunications Program, and recommend it wholeheartedly to anyone concerned about the life of cities.

Really enjoyed this book. Quite informative and well written. Well researched as well. While I was not familiar with some of the films that Davidson discussed, after reading the book I wanted to view them all. Buy this book!

Dhegdheer: A Scary Somali Folktale is a striking English/Somali bilingual picturebook of an ancient cautionary tale from Somalia. When the Hargega Valley is plagued by the monstrous Dhegdheer, who devours everyone in her path, a widow and her young son try to escape with their lives. Only their own innocence and virtue has a prayer of saving them from the monster. Betsy Bowen's boldly tribal paintings illustrate this one-of-a-kind folktale.

With virtual reality (VR) -- or at least the promise of it -- fast becoming a fixture in the public imagination, books like this are vitally important in shaping how we think about, make use of, and create future technologies of representation. Drawing from a remarkable breadth of cultural, technical, and philosophical thought, Ken Hillis's Digital Sensations remains direct and accessible as it deftly weaves together theory, insight, and imagination to understand VR as a technology with specific cultural and historical origins (origins that go farther back than computers, TV, even the telephone and telegraph). Hillis makes a passionate, convincing case that these roots influence the way VR is currently used (in everything from military simulations to avant-garde art installations) and, perhaps more important, how it is publicly perceived: as a utopian, anything-is-possible means of escaping our bodies and the materiality of our lives to achieve a kind of electronic nirvana. Recognizing this as a commercial and ideological vision, Digital Sensations positions itself in one sense as an antidote to that hype, calling our attention both to the far-fetched claims of VR visionaries and to the ethical implications of a technology that depends for its effects on a cunning substitution of illusion for place. Yet the book is not a bringdown; if anything, Hillis helps us think rigorously about the implications and potential of VR, counterbalancing the simplistic, domesticated perspective that characterizes VR simply as a new form of mindless entertainment, virtual singles bar, or faster way of commuting to the electronic office. In chapters on contemporary theory as well as histories of optics and vision, Hillis scrutinizes each component of VR (space, place, body, identity, embodiment, language, and metaphor) calling for a careful consideration of what the desire for a "leap into cyberspace" might mean politically for those who go -- and those who are left behind.

William McKenzie is a former Northern Pacific Railway employee who has created this delightful narrative of the NP's dining car history, complete with numerous priceless photographs of gorgeous dining cars created by the Pullman Company and furnished with the finest of mahogany, crystal, Irish linens, etc. This is not a dry recitation of historical facts; the author has a gift for story-telling. A wonderful bonus to this historical jewel is a list of 150 NP recipes personally tested and modified for the reader by the author's wife. There is also a modest list of drinks and cocktails which the author assures the reader "Have not been tested"! This book will appeal to far more than the typical railfan; all those who enjoy good writing, especially of historical Americana, will find this a delightful discovery.

Travelers on the Northern Pacific Railway got much more than a ticket to travel when they chose to ride: they often received gourmet dining in the dining car, as William A. McKenzie illustrates in his Dining Car to the Pacific: The "Famously Good" Food of the Northern Pacific Railway. The Northern's service was widely regarded as the best in the industry - and source materials from railroad records of the 1860s blends with memoirs of meals to recreate the experience - complete with over 150 recipes used on the line, many developed for or by Northern Pacific. McKenzie's nearly thirty years as a PR manager and corporate historian for the railroad lends expertise to his review and organization of the company's archival records for this lovely survey, while his wife Violet tested and modified the dishes for use at home.