Illinois Books

I'm not much of a writer of reviews but do want to heartily recommend this book to all and especially anyone interested in the Appalachian area, history, media, or law.
I did truly find it to be a page-turner.
I'm a native of the area but this case was a little before my time and I had not heard a word about it. I was hooked from the first page.
I do think most people would like this book for one reason or another. I was so surprised to see how Wise County was a bit before its time in some of the legal aspects of the trial.

The Depression era saw its fair share of sensational murder trials in the United States: Winnie Ruth Judd (the 'Trunk Murderess'), child-killing cannibal Albert Fish, and Bruno Richard Hauptmann (accused of kidnapping and killing the Lindbergh baby), to name a few. They all received extensive press coverage, provoked controversy, and went on to become the subject of more than one best-selling book. Although her two trials in connection with the death of her controlling father were cause celebres for their durations, Edith Maxwell has never received a book-length examination of her case until now. And that's what makes Sharon Hatfield's "Never Seen the Moon" such a fascinating read and important social document.

It's more than just the reporting of a young schoolteacher's now-forgotten battle for her life and then her freedom. Sharon Hatfield exposes 1930s America's prejudice toward Appalachian culture in general and 'hillbillies' in particular, political restrictions that forbade women from sitting on the Maxwell jury and allowing her to truly be judged by a collection of her peers, and the younger generation's fight to challenge violent paternal authority.

"Never Seen the Moon" can be read and interpreted as an exciting piece of True Crime or a sobering social document. Highly recommended.

The German version of this book, published in 1894, about 108 years ago, was among the first books written about the books of Nietzsche. The photograph on the cover was taken in May, 1882 and a portion of it (as shown on p. 132) appeared in her book with the caption, "Friedrich Nietzsche, formerly professor and now a wandering fugitive" (p. ix), as Nietzsche had described himself in a letter to the third person in the picture in 1879, "referring to the severance from his ten-year position at the University of Basel." (p. ix). These people are all dead now. When she was 20, Lou wrote a poem "To Sorrow" (pp. xlviii-xlix) which praises it as "the pedestal for our soul's greatness." (p. xlix).

Lou reported a conversation about the changes in his life in which Nietzsche raised the question, "When everything has taken its course--where does one run to then?" and told her, "In any case, the circle could be more plausible than a standing still." (p. 32). She described his books as the product of "his last period of creativity, Nietzsche arrived at his mystical teaching of the eternal recurrence: the picture of a circle--eternal change in an eternal recurrence--stands like a wondrous symbol and mysterious cypher over the entrance to his work." (p. 33).

This book does not have an index, and the notes on pages 160-8 merely clarify a few things, such as the date of the letter from Nietzsche to Lou at the beginning of Part III Nietzsche's "System" on page 91 which Lou used without the final comment, "be what you must be." The possibilities might not be considered so great. "In that regard, if the sickliness of man is, so to speak, his normal condition or his specific human nature itself, and if the concepts of falling ill and of development are seen as almost identical, then we will naturally encounter again the already mentioned decadence at the culmination of a long cultural development." (p. 102). The ascetic ideal "is also a third kind of decadence which threatens to make the described illness incurable and threatens the possibility of recovery. And that form of decadence is embodied in a false interpretation of the world, an incorrect perception of life encouraged by that suffering and illness. . . . every kind of intellectualism extols thinking at the expense of life and supports the ideal of `truth' at the expense of a heightened sensation of living." (p. 103). "In respect to Nietzsche's own psychic problem, it is of less interest to determine correctly the historicity of master morality and slave morality than it is to ascertain the fact that in man's evolution he has carried these contrasts, these antitheses, within himself and that he is the consequent sufferer of this conflict of instincts, embodying double valuations." (p. 113). Ultimately, "Nietzsche's thought of the Dionysian orgy as the means for release of the emotions" (p. 127) are considered "the necessary conditions for the creative act out of which one shapes the luminous and godly." (p. 127). Nietzsche and Schopenhauer are tied to "the deeply pessimistic nature of the Greeks because their innermost life, as revealed through the orgiastic, was one of darkness, pain, and chaos." (p. 127). Art is the answer, here. "The highest or the most religious art is the tragic because within it the artist delivers beauty from the terrifying." (p. 128). Modern society can hardly be comprehended without accepting that much of what is popular is produced in the attempt to satisfy that desire for art.

To scholars and admirers of Nietzsche, Lou Andreas-Salome has always been seen as his Irene Adler, the intellectual equal who got way or was driven away, depending on one's point of view. Although their affair lasted for only a few months, it left an indelible mark on both, for it came at a turning point in Nietzsche's life where he would leave the realtively safe nests of academia and the Wagners for a peripatetic life in the Eupopean Alps.

Over the years we have heard from almost everyone who was anyone in Nietzsche's life, except Lou Salome. This makes the published reprint of her 1894 even more important for those involved in Nietzsche studies. To say that Salome brings a unique perspective to her work is a bit of an understatement, but those who simply expect this to be memoir of the man she knew will be, I think, somewhat joyfully disappointed. Instead she has written what well may be the first attempt to view the persona behind the works. After giving us an excellent analysis of Nietzsche's philosophy, she comes to the conclusion that perhaps Nietzsche's madness was the inevitable result of his philosophy. Was this, as Nietzsche's sister said, merely a fantasy of female revenge? Then simply compare the last page of her book with the events of Nietzche's last days in Turin, events which she cannot have known. Hers is a provactive and illuminating look at Nietzsche, made more powerful by the fact that she was first to the gate and that the strength of her book is the analysis, not the memories.

As with any book on Nietzsche that comes to us in a foreign language, translation is most important if we are to have not only a working understanding, but also a deeper understanding than we would ordinarily expect. That the translator should be the late Siegfried Mandel is only to the reader's advantage. His translation is crisp and clear. His excellent introduction makes it all the more clear to me that this man is, or should be at least considered, one of the formost Nietzschean scholars of his time. (For further reference, see his excellent "Nietzsche and the Jews.")

This is a book every serious student of Nietzsche should have in his or her library and a book that may contribute to a new vision of the tortured harbinger of the overman.

I have only read the first two pages of this book, but I already give it five stars for the joke on page two. In his critique of Kaufmann's (whom he calls a soft Nietzschean) critique of Nietzsche, Green says something to the effect that one gets the idea from Kaufmann that the overman could very well be a Princeton philosophy professor! I have still not quit laughing.
I just hope the rest of the book is this good!

Green's work deserves a prominent place in contemporary Nietzsche scholarship for several reasons. Firstly, he refuses to shrink back from the many weird or odd things that Nietzsche says; Green isn't interested in "domesticating" Nietzsche so that he sounds just like another analytic philosopher. Secondly, he insists on the connections between Nietzsche's thought and the philosophy and science (both natural and social) of his day, thereby making Nietzsche look like less of a Wunderkind and more like a serious philosopher, deeply engaged with the thinkers and issues of his day. Thirdly, by placing Nietzsche's epistemology in relation to Kant and neo-Kantianism, Green succeeds in showing both that Nietzsche does in fact have an epistemology (which both traditional analytic philosophers and more "postmodern" thinkers have doubted) and that his epistemology has little in common with the "pragmatism" and "empiricism" with which English-speaking philosophers are comfortable. In short, Green demonstrates that Nietzsche not only believed very strange things, but that he had excellent reasons for doing so, and those of us who are attracted to both Kantianism and to naturalism should follow Nietzsche's lead in working through the consequences of these positions.

My primary criticism of this work would be that "the French Nietzscheans" (i.e. Derrida, Foucault, and above all, Deleuze) are rudely dismissed early on. Green implies that Nietzsche should be read as a "naturalist" and not as a "postmodernist". But why accept this false dichotomy? Given the ways in which Nietzsche radicalizes traditional (i.e. Kantian) categories by way of his Heraclitean naturalism, it at least seems plausible that the post-structuralists are following Nietzsche's lead quite faithfully. One of the origins of "postmodernism" would then be seen to lie in the conflict between Kantianism and naturalism that animates Nietzsche's work.

My comments will be brief, as the fine review already provided by James Heidel is accurate and complete. I intend only to convince any of those who are unsure of buying this book that this really is a great value. Simply excellent writing combined with ample information has resulted in the best book I have read about railroading.

This publication covers the complete history of the Chicago & North Western Railway from the initial charter of the Galena & Chicago Union Railroad in 1836 through the final years before the C&NW was absorbed by the Union Pacific in 1995. This work is one that a reader will come away having learned the evolution of the former C&NW and the reasons for its prominence in railroad history. It is a must have reference text for any fan of Midwest rails. Professor Grant has included numerous illustrations and b&w photographs from his personal collection and from others that have been crisply reproduced and concisely captioned. The generous footnotes and ample bibliography provided are illuminating and will offer any student of Midwest rail history an excellent starting point for a research endeavor of their own.

Dune provides a reasonably objective account of the October Revolution and the Civil War without embellishment or historical name-dropping (Lenin and Trotsky are hardly mentioned). The editors have done history a service by making his writing available in this format.

Dune provides a reasonably objective account of the October Revolution and the Civil War without embellishment or historical name-dropping (Lenin and Trotsky are hardly mentioned). The editors have done history a service by making his writing available in this format.

In CATCHING LIGHT, Kathryn Stripling Byer weaves yet again her own brand of poetic magic. Poems in the voice of an aging woman named Evelyn take us into the life and imagination of a woman who refuses to give up, refuses to let go of life. In lyrics with delicate yet strong movement and closure, she gathers her reader into the web that only language well used can weave. Byer continues to grow as a poet, and I look forward to future volumes. The terms Southern and Appalachian no longer apply to such work; it has moved beyond the regional and into a realm accessible to anyone who cares about poetry, regardless of its regional roots. All good poems begin in the particulars of their worlds, of course, but too often poems termed regional, especially Southern or Appalachian, are met with condescension from the more entlighted literati in NYC, Provincetown, and else where. Byer's poems rebuke such a constricted view of American poetry.

When the Southeastern Bookseller's Association selected this book for their 2002 Book of the Year in Poetry, they knew what they were doing. Kathryn Stripling Byer's fourth book of poetry takes on the subject of a woman's old age, her last days, and how she reacts to them. By turns stark, witty, lyrical, elegiac, these poems seem determined to rise to the challenge issued by Eavan Boland in several of her poems and essays that writing about an aging woman is difficult if not downright impossible in the Western poetic tradition. In the voice of a woman by the name of Evelyn, and growing out of a collaboration with photographer Louanne Watley, whose Evelyn Series illuminated the last days of an eccentric old woman, these poems take the reader into Evelyn's interior world, her fears, her sexuality, her memories. It's quite a journey and one well worth taking, not only for its insights but also for the beauty and clarity of its poetry.

This book is a much needed contribution to the historical record, to undo all the mindless junk that's been said for years about what the Hollywood Ten was all about. Dmytryk's memoir is candid, honest and gets to what the heart of the matter was all about. And because he was the only one of the Ten who recognized that, he is treated now as a pariah by those who seem to think that fealty to the American Communist Party is more noble than "naming names", even when in Dmytryk's case it forced him into prison in the name of beliefs he no longer held.

Probably the best memoir of one man's break from American communism since Whittaker Chambers's masterpiece "Witness."

In 1947 Edward Dmytryk, a rising young director of such films as "Murder, My Sweet" and "Crossfire," along with 11 other Hollywood writers and executives, was called to testify before the House Un-American Activities Committee, known to history as HUAC. HUAC's stated purpose for calling these 12 men was to expose the corrupting presence of communists in the entertainment industry and, it hoped, bar them from further employment in Hollywood. Ten, the famous Hollywood Ten, did indeed testify, were found in contempt of congress for their unwillingness to fully cooperate with the House committee and were duly punished for their intransigence. Subsequent to his appearance before congress in 1947, Dmytryk was sentenced to spend six months in a minimum security federal facility.

"Odd Man Out" is Dmytryk's story of that time. It is a unique story. Most if not all of the people who were banned by the HUAC influenced Hollywood blacklists were indeed communists, or had joined the party at some point in the past. As Dmytryk writes, naming names was the ultimate sin. And, although "HUAC was out to expose a movement rather than nail a tiny group of individuals, and in that, however illegal, unethical, and un-American it was, they obviously succeeded," the blacklisted individuals were supposed to maintain a united front. After prison and a couple of years in the wilderness, though, Dmytryk had a change of heart. Never a True Believer, it seems, it became obvious to him "the Ten had been sacrificed to the Party's purpose as a pipeline for the Comintern's propaganda... and ... if I were going to be a martyr, I wanted the privilege of choosing my martyrdom, and making my family suffer to protect the American representatives of a foreign agency would certainly not be it." And so, as a condition for reinstatement, in 1951 Dmytryk testified again for HUAC, this time as a friendly witness.

Time has exposed the communist witchhunt as a dark blemish on America's record, and those who were blacklisted have become noble martyrs. Dmytryk started out a hero but became the turncoat villain in this story. His second testimony in 1951, even though he named no new names, was never completely forgiven. Towards the end of the book Dmytryk recounts an encounter with another blacklisted director, Jules Dassin, who refused to share a stage with him and yet felt free to excoriate him during a round-table discussion of the blacklist era. Dassin's reaction wasn't untypical, and even today the blacklisted individuals are revered without quarter. Save for the turncoat Dmytryk, who, unfortunately, was forced to deal with the devil and testify against his former friends and denounce his past involvement in the communist party in America. "Odd Man Out" convinced me that he did the right thing, and reminded me that history is rarely a clear-cut matter of Right and Wrong. If you're interested in a different perspective on this difficult time I strongly recommend this book.

An outstanding book that communicates the joy of childhood. Well written, and outstanding art work. The story of pretend play and childhood adventures while growing up in a poor setting inspires children today. Adults will note that the gentle story honors a wonderful mother who had to overcome her own difficulties. This book makes me long for my own childhood. Great job, Mr. Stark!

What a wonderful book by Ken Stark!!! This is a great story about two brothers growing up in small town Illinois in the 1950's. It is about a simpler life than we all lead now and that is so refreshing! The illustrations are a wonder! Just gorgeous! The themes of friendship and brotherly love are so comforting! Get this book!!

Gilpin et al. aptly depict and identify what has made Yale's workers and the movement they have created so vibrant and strong. This book is all the more pertinent given last month's strike of all four unions.

I had to read this book for a US Labor History course at the University of Colorado. It was absolutely incredible. The authors trace the events leading up to the strike but, more importantly, they describe how the community of New Haven came together in order to defeat "Corporate Yale." I highly recommend this book to anyone who is interested in labor history and the struggles faced by American workers.

Many books on "the separation of church and state" tend to revolve around the issue of was America founded as a "Christian nation," a question that is loaded with a lot of political and religious baggage. McGarvie weaves through that debate and poses a simple question--how did the transformation of American law affect the separation of church authority and state/government authority in the early republic?

The question may seem a bit abstruse, but McGarvy's answers are enlightening. One Nation Under Law looks at the disestablishment struggle not as a pro- or anti-religion issue (although there is some of that from the times), but as an issue of how legal structure affected politics. The distinction is important, as it frees the debate from the perils of the "Christian nation" question. McCarvy finds that many people supported the privatization (through incorporation) of religious institutions as the US transformed from a colonial communalism to a republican ideology based on Enlightment principles of individualism. Only after this took effect did the "separation of church and state" as we know it begin to form as a response to legal changes during the country's founding generation.

Well researched, with copious mention of other legal and history scholars, and packed into a manageable 191 pages. Will not lose the attention of the lay reader, useful to scholars of history, law and religion

McGarvie explores an important topic, and addresses issues which we are currently discussing during this election year. He presents a readable text, a well researched analysis, and a thought provoking study.