Louisiana Books

An excellent guide to what to do when the spirit moves, the time allows and the the journey means as much as the destination. A well-written, delightful read. ~Candace

If you are visiting New Orleans for a week and want to see where the locals visit on their day trips - this is the book. The author has done a great job mapping out fun trips for anyone with a car. If you have just moved into the New Orleans area - get this book. The author really covered a lot of territory; and it is fun reading. I am on my 3rd copy - I buy the book, "lend" it out, and then have to buy another one, etc.

Discover the real Louisiana history, culture and more
James Gaffney's Side Trips from New Orleans opens the door to great same-day adventures from the Crescent City. New Orleans is far more than the French Quarter and this neat book gives reason to visit the city for four or five days so to discover the bayou country, the culture, people and history an easy drive from the city. To me, this book is a 'must' when considering a visit to the Big Easy, and a fine reason to stay longer to discover far more.
Leonard J. Hansen, Journalist, Travel Writer and Author

mr. lerner does an excellent job of reporting exactly what happened to the diamond subdivision of norco, louisiana. he interviews many residents of diamond and neighboring norco and gives invaluable perspective to the struggles of both: one, a community smushed between two toxic-spewing behemoths and the other, a largely white, largely shell-employed suburb trying to "protect" their company and town. basically, the white residents are being paid to suffer the health and environmental consequences of living next to chemical and petrochemical refineries, whereas the black community, diamond, was not only suffering the brunt of the chemical emissions but not even hired by shell--i think the rate was 3% in diamond. the history of this particular part of louisiana was fascinating and well researched. the racial divides in this part of louisiana are historically intense (as they were in southeastern texas, where i grew up); the environmental racism perpetuated by shell is obvious and appalling. that it took as much time as it did for shell to relocate this community, then to do it in stages that decimated generations of family ties, is proof of their utter lack of concern for the human cost of their operations. i tried to feel a little good for shell in the giving credit where credit is due part of the book, but i still am appalled by their utter lack of concern for the health of the community, and when they did care it was only because they were threatened with bad publicity. the suggestions made by the author at the end of the book for change were excellent, and i loved margie richard's statement to the chemical companies that they should be doing this cleaner, cheaper and healthier. theirs was not a total victory, but a big one nonetheless. i look forward to any new books written by mr. lerner and i am really looking forward to seeing what happens to the current and former residents of diamond, who i hope bring forth a massive suit against shell for the damage done to their health.

This is an exceptional book. Hard hitting, informative, life affirming and full of the pulls and pushes of the real challenges people face. That said, I could not help but think what a great movie this would make. I could see this book. The images are so vivid. The stories so real. The wins so bittersweet. Mr. Lerner is a gifted writer with a warm heart and brillant mind. Thank you for writing this story. Hopefully it will inspire other real life stories.

"Diamond" by Steve Lerner is a compelling account of a community's struggle for environmental justice. This highly-readable work skillfully examines the subject of toxics pollution and the petrochemical industry's tendency to disproportionately harm people of color. In particular, the book is noteworthy for the care and compassion with which Mr. Lerner has profiled and documented the remarkable individuals who successfully led a grassroots campaign for justice in Diamond, Louisiana. In so doing, the author has alerted us to the potential for the environmental and racial justice movements to collaborate and work for change.

The first section recounts the unique history of Diamond. The tight-knit African-American community had endured centuries of slavery and segregation only to find itself on a collision course with Big Oil due to Diamond's location near the Gulf of Mexico. Over many years, the massive amounts of pollution released by Shell's refineries and chemical plants located adjacent to Diamond had caused ill health among the local population and spurred the citizens into organized action.

The second section discusses Shell and its relations with its neighbors. Through numerous interviews and visits to Diamond and the adjacent community of Norco, Mr. Lerner uncovered a startling difference in how the two ethnically stratified towns perceived reality. The mostly white residents of Norco, many of whom were employed by Shell, seemed unwilling to acknowledge the ill effects of the pollution and openly questioned the motivations of the black residents of Diamond, most of whom did not benefit economically from the plant and consequently did not shrink from vocalizing their discontent. In my view, the author's mature treatment of this particular aspect of the story provides insight into the deep-rooted racial divide in America and helps us understand how we might heal the relationship.

The third and fourth sections document the increasing tension as hard evidence of toxic releases exposed Shell's non-compliance with EPA regulations and elevated the level of distrust in the community. Greenpeace and other organizations joined with the local residents in highlighting the injustice and brought increased media scrutiny on the situation.

The fifth section shows how victory was achieved through the linking of the struggle in Diamond with the well-known case of the Ogoni people and their victimization by Shell's operations in Nigeria. The threat of negative publicity prior to a prominent international conference proved to be decisive, moving Shell management to strike a deal with Diamond residents.

In the final section, Mr. Lerner discusses the lessons learned. The author recommends buffer zones around plants, better monitoring of air and the phase-out of toxic chemicals.

In the Conclusion, Mr. Lerner credits Shell with doing the right thing but discusses the human costs of relocating the residents, a strategy that took people out of harm's way but divided neighbors who had lived near one another for generations. But in winning this David-versus-Goliath struggle, the author praises Diamond resident Margie Richards for her faith, intelligence and perseverance in leading the struggle to fruition. Ms. Richards is compared with Rosa Parks as a role model and an inspiration to all who are struggling for environmental justice.

I highly recommend this pathbreaking and important book to everyone.

A wonderful stroll through rural Lousiana of pre WWII as seen through the eyes of a witty, yet respectful youth.Being the youngest child by quite a bit allows Robert the privilege of observing his mostly adult world little noticed, and he doesn't mind pointing out to us a few of the humorous inconsistencies prevalent in the Southern Baptist community. Despite the ever present financial hardships of the depression and the aforementioned foibles, Robert learns the value of pride in his work and compassion for others that help him move into the wider world that will become his adult home. Highly recommended.

What a pleasure to read! Robert's recollections of 'simpler times' are vivid and engaging. I can easily visualize the old home place, though I've never seen it. An easy and pleasant read that takes you back in time and away from the hectic life and everyday pressures we all face. Thanks for a great bit of history and perspective of life in the deep South, I thoroughly enjoyed it.

What was it like to grow up in the Great Depression, to experience childhood according to the rhythms of farm life in a north Louisiana community where friends, family, school, and church defined the dimensions of daily life? History buffs and those interested in the landscape of the old south will find much to enjoy in Robert Aycock's memoir, Essays of Remembrance, which follows the author from his boyhood on the farm to his college days at LSU in the boisterous aftermath of the Huey Long era. The book's vivid and detailed account of wartime experiences in the Army Medical Corps offers a fascinating glimpse of the World War II homefront at a time when care for sick and injured soldiers predated the discovery of the sulfonamides and antibiotics. Aycock writes of special friendships formed, and the haunting reminder of friends and the thousands of others who did not survive the great conflict.

As Hurricane Katrina roared into the city, Richard Campanella remembers in "Geographies of New Orleans," he tried to convince himself that his decision to ride the storm out in his 9th Ward home "was not an emotional one, made with a clenched fist and a fanatical dedication to place, but rather a rational one based on data and reason."

He lived, after all, in a sturdy, old, raised house, seven feet above sea level, and by staying he could be present "to minimize structural damage, to mitigate, to respond to conditions before they developed into crises, to take corrective action to protect important papers and possessions, and afterwards, to guard against looters." But when his street suddenly filled with two feet of water, he knew he had made a "big, big mistake." He and his wife were now living "literally in the Gulf of Mexico."

Although the water receded before it became life-threatening, Campanella later recognized that his "ill-advised decision" not to evacuate had never really been as rational as he'd first thought. Instead, as "the big one" approached, he simply could not bring himself to leave. He wanted to be here "to bear witness to the intricate fabrics of this cherished city, at the moment of their terrible shredding." And, after reading "Geographies of New Orleans," it is easy to empathize with his decision.

"Geographies of New Orleans: Urban Fabrics Before the Storm" is a big, striking book, filled with photographs, maps, timelines and beautifully written essays on the city's culture, environment and history. Campanella, a geographer at the Tulane Center for Bioenvironmental Research, has made understanding the nuances of New Orleans neighborhoods his life's work. "Geographies of New Orleans" is clearly a labor of love, but it is also a book stunning in its analytical precision. While Campanella knows and appreciates the lore of New Orleans, he bases all of his conclusions about the city's past and present on hard-won data, and it is, indeed, difficult to imagine just how much painstaking research went into this book.

Take, for example, his chapter on the Irish Channel, one of New Orleans' most-storied neighborhoods. Anyone who has attended the St. Patrick's Day block party at Parasol's Irish Channel Bar knows the legends. The Channel, so the story goes, was once filled with Irish immigrants who worked grueling shifts on the docks and then went to corner watering holes at night to drink, fight and sing Irish songs long into the evening. It is a rich and colorful history, and one based, in part, on truth. But, as Campanella notes, there is substantial disagreement as to whether Parasol's is in the historical Irish Channel -- or even whether the Channel of lore ever existed at all.

Some historians and old-timers say the "one and only" Irish Channel was on Adele Street, near where the Wal-Mart stands today. Others claim that Tchoupitoulas Street was the "main avenue of the Irish Channel." And while many maintain that the boundaries of the Channel were Josephine Street, Magazine Street, Louisiana Avenue and the river (the neighborhood that includes Parasol's), the 1938 WPA guide to New Orleans placed the Channel in today's Warehouse District. Father Earl Niehaus, the most famous chronicler of the Irish in New Orleans, rejected the idea that the city ever had a segregated Irish neighborhood. Instead, he suggested that people simply liked the "picturesque, though mysterious" phrase "Irish Channel," and "a myth was born."
Campanella brings a geographer's meticulousness to this debate. Rather than rely on legend, he spent countless hours mining data from primary sources in an effort to determine if there ever was a specific, predominantly Irish neighborhood known as the Irish Channel. His systematic search through old newspapers revealed that the term Irish Channel first appeared in the late 19th century but that the exact location of the neighborhood was rarely defined.

Census data from the 19th century proved to be of little help because census takers often failed to record house numbers or streets for the houses they visited. So Campanella created his own method for determining whether there was ever a neighborhood Irish enough to fit the legend of the Irish Channel. Matching addresses found in 19th century city directories with a list culled from the burial records of St. Patrick's Cemetery No. 1 of unmistakable Irish surnames -- such as Callahan, Flynn, Kelly and those starting with Fitz-, Mc-, O' -- Campanella mapped the old neighborhoods block by block.

What he found was that there was never an intensely clustered, exclusively Irish neighborhood in New Orleans. Although Irish immigrants did settle in particular districts such as the "back of town" where housing was cheap, they invariably lived side by side with Germans, Italians, African-Americans, and "a multitude of other ancestries." Assessing his research as a whole, Campanella concludes that the Irish Channel was once, most likely, a specific street -- Adele Street -- whose nickname came to be applied to a number of neighborhoods where Irish families lived. It is a cautious conclusion, one unlikely to end the long-standing debates, but in reaching it Campanella creates the most detailed account we have of where Irish immigrants to New Orleans settled and why they chose to settle where they did.

The Irish Channel is just one of many New Orleans neighborhoods Campanella explores in "Geographies of New Orleans." In other chapters he turns his expertise to the French Quarter, Uptown, the 9th Ward, Lakeview and eastern New Orleans, and it is fascinating to view the city through his eyes. In old, seemingly unremarkable buildings, Campanella sees the settlement patterns and streetscapes created by Sicilian and German immigrants, former slaves and free persons of color, Orthodox Greeks and Jews, black and white Creoles. In newer buildings he sees the history of desegregation, man's fateful efforts to conquer the environment, and the haphazard campaign to make New Orleans a "New South" city. He makes the architecture and topography of Gentilly and Mid-City as compelling as the famous neighborhoods frequented by tourists. And oft-ignored thoroughfares such as Elysian Fields Avenue become as interesting and worthy of preservation as St. Charles Avenue or Royal Street. "As a microcosm and barometer of two centuries of urban growth," Campanella argues convincingly, "Elysian Fields Avenue stands alone."

Because Campanella wrote almost all of "Geographies of New Orleans" before Katrina, it is also heartbreaking to read. Every page is a reminder of just how much has been lost. Given the amount of destruction the storm wrought, some may even wonder whether we should be spending so much time worrying about the city's past when there are so many questions about its future. Are long debates about the location of the Irish Channel -- and the meaning of the word Creole, and the dividing line between Uptown and downtown -- a luxury we can really afford? Perhaps New Orleanians have always been too focused on the minutia of the past rather than the problems of the present.

"Geographies of New Orleans" is a powerful refutation to such arguments. It is a dazzling book, unparalleled in its scope, precision, clarity and detail, that makes clear that what still survives of the "intricate urban fabrics woven here over the past three hundred years" is exactly what makes New Orleans worth saving.
. . . . . . .
Michael A. Ross is associate professor of history at Loyola University.

Of all the volumes of print that have been dedicated to New Orleans in the last few years, this book stands out as a masterpiece.

As the discipline of geography is many things so is this book and it chronicles many aspects of this city. To understand the importance of New Orleans it is essential to understand its history, which Campanella explores with loving detail. Perhaps the most intruiging part of the book is the ethnic histories of a city which one hundred years ago was arguably the most multi-ethnic in America.

As a transplant to New Orleans I came to learn much about the neighborhoods and history through conversations with old-timers. Campanella's findings confirm everything that I had learned and much, much more. Even today, the destinies of individual neighborhoods and areas of the city can be explained largely through the histories illustrated in this book.

If I have one criticism it is that many of the illustrations are too small, however it must have been difficult to pack so much information into one book.

Finally, Campanella's often quirky photographs are pleasant aesthetic lagniappe.

Perhaps the most eerie thing about reading Richard Campanella's new book, Geographies of New Orleans: Urban Fabrics Before the Storm is coming across sentences like this, written before Katrina: "The general trajectory of the region's physical geography is one of an eroding coastline, rising sea level, subsiding soils, and increasing vulnerability to hurricane-induced gulf surges." Campanella, a geographer at Tulane University, has made a literary career of analyzing New Orleans with scientific exactitude, and given his expertise in matters of alluvial deposits and soil subsidence, such prescient assertions are hardly surprising. What is a bit surprising about Geographies of New Orleans is how touchingly human it is. Campanella's work has none of the detached coldness one might expect from his analytical, scientific approach; instead he provides a vivid portrait of the city's organic development over the course of its 300-year history, one that should be required reading for anyone who has ever fallen under its spell.
Covering ground that will be familiar to readers of his previous book, Time and Place in New Orleans, Campanella begins with a look at the site of New Orleans in geological time. This first part, "Physical Geographies," is perhaps the most technical, but it provides an important basis for the historical analysis that follows. In part II, "Urban Geographies," Campanella analyzes how the physical characteristics of New Orleans have come to influence its urban form, from street patterns to land values and ethnic distributions.
The section dealing with the French Quarter, coming early in the second part, is where Geographies of New Orleans veers into the delightfully unexpected. It is here that we find Campanella's scientific methods of analysis applied to the architectural development of a neighborhood. The results are particularly illuminating, especially from the perspective of architectural preservation. Campanella has surveyed every single building in the Quarter by construction date, architectural style and building type, and he presents the results of his labor in a series of fascinating maps. Here we see that the storehouses prevalent in the more commercial parts of the quarter near the river and Canal Street correspond almost perfectly to modern levels of pedestrian traffic, that Creole architectural styles are more prevalent in the back of the Quarter, and that construction of townhouses declined sharply as the Quarter became more working-class after the Civil War. There is even an in-depth analysis of cast-iron galleries in the Quarter, with a map showing the density of their distribution in splotchy shades of green.
This type of analysis is replicated throughout. Elysian Fields Avenue is treated as a historical cross section of the city and is analyzed through its entire history, providing an architectural narrative of New Orleans' expansion from the river into the backswamp and to the edge of the lake. Here too, Campanella has the approach of a scientist. A page showing Elysian Fields Avenue with blocks color-coded by decade of oldest construction next to a topographic map of the same area looks more like a page from a chemistry textbook than a work of architectural history, but that is precisely what makes Campanella's work so provocative and fascinating.
Campanella opens his section on "Ethnic Geographies" with a brief statistical analysis illustrating the fact that New Orleans was, between 1820 and 1850, the most diverse city in the country. The more important question for Campanella, however, is why New Orleans was able to attract newcomers from all over the world in such numbers, and it is an issue that he carries forward into his analysis of each ethnicity, examining how and why each minority group was drawn to the city. Using the deep geographical perspective gained from the first parts of the book, Campanella is able to illustrate with convincing meticulousness why minorities settled where they did and how they were integrated into the urban fabric of New Orleans.
Campanella's chapter on the Irish is presented as a historical puzzle: "where was the Irish Channel?" By looking at distributions of Irish-born New Orleanians from 1840 to 1940 and delving into historical accounts, Campanella is able to provide a map showing various overlapping and conflicting theories of where this elusive neighborhood was actually located, and how its perceived location varied over time. This approach provides fascinating insights into the architectural character of the city throughout its history and in every neighborhood.
Geographies of New Orleans was, of course, researched and written before Katrina washed over and forever disrupted the city that had developed over the centuries. Campanella points out ruefully that his work is now of questionable relevance to the city that has survived and that it stands only as a monument to what was lost. There are short epilogues to each chapter pointing out the effects of the storm, but for the most part, Katrina is restricted to a final chapter in which Campanella weaves together an emotional account of staying in his Bywater home throughout the storm and a cool, detached narrative in which Campanella the geographer begins to take stock of the storm and its impact on his city. One can only hope that he will continue this process and present us with a comprehensive portrait of the new city to complement this impressive and fascinating volume, rendered poignantly out of date by a single storm last August.

I really liked this book. It was hard to read sometimes being a horse owner living in Florida, but it also taught me a few things and thank God for the the group of men and women who took the time out of their own lives to save all these wonderful creatures. We could never thank them enough. GREAT READ!

Hurricane Katrina devastated countless human lives, but the stranded pets and other animals left in New Orleans are rarely mentioned. "Horses of the Storm: The Incredible Rescue of Katrina's Horses" is the story of the efforts of countless veterinarians and volunteers and their attempts to rescue the pets and animals who were in threat of losing their lives to the disaster. A Touching and inspirational throughout, "Horses of the Storm: The Incredible Rescue of Katrina's Horses" is highly recommended for community library pets collections and as a real treat for animal lovers.

This is a heartfelt story of heroes and the will to survive under the most tragic circumstances.

In the aftermath of the August 29, 2005, devastating destruction of Katrina, the untold suffering was not just felt by vast numbers of residents in the Gulf Coast area.

The book chronicles the tireless work by Louisiana State University's Equine Rescue Team to rescue the animals in oftentimes very dangerous circumstances.

Becoming the riders after the storm, this is an incredible chronicle of individuals and the heart & soul that only comes from a strong desire to live.

I own a dozen or more of these local history photo volumes in this Images of America series by Acadia. This is one of my favorites. Individual portraits and archit. are both covered. Its an amazing education in how so many of the most prominent buildings and institutions of New Orleans were build and sustained by members of the small Jewish community.

Judah Benjamin "the brain of the Confederacy" and the first Jewish US Senator; Judah Tuoro; owner of the Tulane president's mansion on St. Charles; Latter (home is now St Chas. public library), etc. Clearly -- the Jewish community here has long been one of the most gifted and active in the country. Yet another example of just how unique New Orleans is.

A good companion to this volume would be teh dry but VERY informative book by Bertram Korn, The Early Jews of New Orleans (1967).

This book was published just in time! Right after its release Hurricane Katrina slammed into the Gulf Coast. Many of the original photographs, which belonged to local families were damaged, or lost. I only wish the book had been bigger!

This is a great book that is easy to read. If you love history, especially history of the jews of New Orleans or the South, this book is a " must have." Not only did I enjoy reading it, but so did my 13 year old son. There are great pictures in the book, too. The book would make a perfect gift for Chanukah, wedding, anniversaries, birthdays, or Bar/Bat Mitzvahs. Hope to see more books by this author very soon!!!

I have read this book 79 times. It is the product of a genius, and I doubt that I will ever understand it. I have never read any other book 79 times, or even 10, not even the Bible. Please buy this book and try to decipher it yourself, and e-mail me and tell me what it means, because I don't know, and I really really really really want to. Its profundity is far, far beyond my grasp. God bless you, R.H.W. Dillard.

I have read this book 79 times. It is the product of a genius, and I doubt that I will ever understand it. I have never read any other book 79 times, or even 10, not even the Bible. Please buy this book and try to decipher it yourself, and e-mail me and tell me what it means, because I don't know, and I really really really really want to. Its profundity is far, far beyond my grasp. God bless you, R.H.W. Dillard.

R.H.W. Dillard's poems are incredibly wide in range. With each poem, you will be surprised, yet the voice is clearly R.H.W.Dillard. Where else can read a poem titled "Winter Letter to Bluefield"? It's a stunning collection--his best.

I have bought this book about 15 times already. when I use it with guest, they enjoy the book and food, so much, as they leave thru the door I give my book away and get me a new one.....they are just getting harder to get..

My husband purchased this cookbook and now we are giving it as Christmas gifts. The recipes are clear and concise and extremely delicious. They cover the best recipes from South Lousiana Cookeries. Every recipe is a keeper especially for entertaining.
SMB

I've used this book for 20 years - it's the best for authentic Louisiana cooking. The recipies are true, easy to follow, and always good. In case your wondering I was born and raised in Louisiana, so I do know good cajun food.

For anyone who wants to understand the South and particularly the southern state that has in many ways represented both the worst and the best of the region, Elizabeth Spencer's LANDSCAPES OF THE HEART is an absolute must-read. I know nothing except perhaps Harry Crews' poignant autobiography, A CHILDHOOD, that approaches it in realizing both a southern world and an insider's intimate experience of that world. Spencer's nuanced prose and her ability to recreate her childhood in Carrollton, Mississippi, makes it hard to put her memoir aside. By the last page, we too have become Mississippians of a certain time and place. Don't miss this fine book.

I've spent a professional and avocational lifetime studying the literature and culture of the South, where I was born and where I have chosen to live. One of the things that has puzzled me most about this region has been Mississippi, a state that lies just across the Mississippi River from my home state, but in its culture and attitudes is far distant from the world in which I grew up and have lived. Alabama, Georgia, East Texas, the Carolinas, Tennessee---all are distinctive. But Mississippi strikes me as a world apart even in the Deep South, a world of its own, inward-looking even at the dawn of a new century.

And yet the state probably has produced more highly creative and accomplished people, per capita, than any other southern state. Forget for a moment the writers. Consider Jim Henson, father of the Muppets; Elizabeth Hazen, a pioneer chemist who discovered the first fungicidal antibiotic; Leontyn Price, whose full soprano voice changed the Metropolitan Opera; Craig Claiborne, longtime food critic for The NY Times who changed a nation's attitude toward food; Oprah Winfrey, who created a unique career; Walter Payton, Brett Farve, Red Barber in sports; Sela Ward and James Earl Jones, actors; Shelby Foote, the historian. Consider the musicians: Elvis Presley, B.B. King, Muddy Waters, Jimmy Buffett, Bo Diddley, Faith Hill and Tammy Wynette, to name only a few. And then there are the writers: Wm Faulkner, Eudora Welty, Willie Norris, Elizabeth Spencer, Tennessee Williams, Richard Wright, Walker Percy, for instance. And they are still coming. It is simply impossible to imagine Southern and American culture without these and many other creative Mississippians.

What is there about the state, which in so many ways still looks inward and backward, that accounts for the astonishing achievements of so many of its citizens?

Elizabeth Spencer's brilliant memoir helped me understand the world of Mississippi and its effects on bright, creative people as nothing else has ever done, including Faulkner's powerful fiction, almost all of it set in his home state.

In a prose both familiar and evocative, Spencer pulls us into the life of a little girl growing up in a state that has no real city, that was made up of little towns where everyone had a clear identity and connections in other little towns all over the state, generally blood ties. We meet her mother's people, the McCains (John McCain is a cousin), whose homeplace plantation Teoc is run by a beloved uncle and inhabited by the whole family at one time or another. We encounter her life as a perceptive child in a home ordered by rules established so long ago they seemed Biblical. The churches, the old ladies and old gentlemen whose very lives are guiding lights, the school, downtown, the black people who were both a part of and apart from her world, the old houses, the ambitious father, the loving mother who assured she imbibed the social mores of Carrollton, the books that were as real as people, the grand old houses that are totems, the child who grows up in this world---Spencer weaves all the threads and nuances of the town's and her own life in it into a vivid, complex, and completely unforgettable whole. For the most of the book, we live with her in Carrollton, Mississippi.

And then we take the first tentative steps away from it---to college in Jackson, Mississippi, where Eudora Welty lives across the street; then a step farther away, to graduate school at Vanderbilt to study English, where she met people like Donald Davidson, Robert Penn Warren, Allen Tate, and Cleanth Brooks, who encouraged her ambition to write. The earliest stages of her writing, her time on the Mississippi Coast, the nervous collapse she experiences, NYC and her eventual two-year writing fellowship in Italy give Spencer a personal independence she relished but which she believed entirely consistent with her home in Mississippi.

She learned it was not. While she was in Italy, she and her mother had maintained a steady and detailed correspondence. Spencer was working on the novel that would become "The Knock At the Back Door," rooted in an experience with a black servant who had been brutally beaten by a white man for what his wife had regarded as an insult and who had come to the Spencers' backdoor for help. As a child Elizabeth had been shocked by the sight of the familiar woman and her battered face, her mother's tending her wounds, her father's assuring her a way out of town and away from danger. In Italy, she was mildly surprised that while writing about the "Mississippi small-town life, filled with home voices, home manners, characters whose thoughts and lives were centered there and nowhere else...these things came clearer to me from a distance than they might have done at home." Yet that writing and her contacts with her family had also assured her of her place in that world.

She arrived home in the summer following the brutal murder of Emmit Till, a Chicago teenager visiting Mississippi kin who had made the mistake of whistling at a white woman in a country store, whose husband and brother had beaten the boy to death for what was seen as a clear insult.

Spencer's father had always "been forward-looking about racial matters," had subscribed to Hodding Carter's Liberal Greenville newspaper, and had encouraged the education and ambition of Negroes who worked for him. In the climate following the murder, however, all he could say was, "We have to keep things in hand." Order was the important thing. In the tension that accompanied the event, her mother vacillated but recurred to old notions: "Something ought to be done to those men," she would say and then add, "that boy may have been just fourteen but he was grown, he was a man, and he shouldn't have been looking at any white woman." After two days, Spencer was encouraged to leave. In time she would verbalize what she could not admit at the time, "You don't belong down here anymore."

The memoir takes her back to Europe and to England, where she married an Englishman she had met earlier; their years in Montreal; and their eventual removal to North Carolina and the South. But it is the brilliantly realized intimate life in Mississippi that is its glory.

I don't know why I was so late coming to this wonderful memoir. I will read it again and again. I recommend it highly for readability, pure pleasure, and understanding.

The author gives you a feeling of what it was like to grow up in the South, to be a citizen of that time and place, but to move away enough to see it in perspective. Many mentioned names and relationships useful for genealogy, too.

Miss Spencer's vivid comparisons of life in North and South Mississippi are especially interesting to those of us who have made this migration; she writes of the beauty of church names on the Mississippi Coast ("Our Lady of the Gulf," etc.) and how the construction of Interstate 10 changed things forever. Her description of the rustic conditions faced by Junior college teachers of the 1940s is revealing and a rather sad commentary on a system that took a long time to improve. The award she will receive in October from the Mississippi Library Association is much deserved.

This is an illuminating and thoroughly enjoyable read. Compassionate, sympathetically written, by times heart rending. A tribute to the almost forgotten Mosopelea tribe. Professor Hobson touched all of my emotions with this. I look forward to his next title.

The Last of the Ofos is elegantly written and historically informed. Poignant and touching, but not cloying, this is a must-read. A wonderful book!

The Last of the Ofos gives us a man whose resourcefulness and sense of adventure takes him across much of the 20th Century of the United States. Thomas Darko is innocent and worldly simultaneously, and brings a fresh but honest look at much human foolishness as he runs rum with integrity, searches for the woman who abandons him without sentiment, shows us the best and worst of those who idealize Native American culture and always returns to the life of simple self-sufficiency that gives him more satisfaction than all his adventures.

I loved the book and the dignity and truthfulness of the story. I stumbled across it in the University of Oklahoma bookstore and my curiosity was generously rewarded.