Nebraska Books

There is no other text that even comes close to this book. It is the definitive book on Arkansas politics.

What a man to admire. We should all make a pilgrimage to Beyreuth to pay our lifetime respects to this great man.

Anyone advertising this privately-published government grant report is probably trying to sell a copy stolen from a library.
- James A. Thorson

Frontier historians have long been appreciative of the path-breaking establishment of Astoria as a fur-trading post on the Columbia River in 1811 and its short history as a pawn in international rivalries. James P. Ronda, well respected for his work on the Lewis and Clark Expedition, presents in this book the first full-length study of Astoria to appear since Washington Irving's "Astoria" in 1836. The result is a fine work that is more significant than just a story of adventure in the Pacific Northwest or just one more account of a single aspect of the fur trade. It moves with a sweep and a dimension that places the little post on the banks of the Columbia River in the vortex of world events, a pawn in games of international rivalry and chance.

Ronda describes carefully the efforts of John Jacob Astor, head of the Pacific Fur Company and several other business enterprises, to establish Astoria as the capital of his far western trading empire during the first decade of the nineteenth century. That effort moved from New York to Washington to St. Petersburg to Montreal to Canton as he manipulated international politics and appealed to personal desires. Astor, motivated by a quest for wealth but fortified by a sense of national prominence, appealed to the expansionist-minded politicians of the United States to gain support for Astoria's creation. He was finally successful and in 1811 the site was settled by representatives of the Pacific Fur Company traveling in two contingents, one overland and the other by sea. For the next three years Astor and his lieutenants battled bureaucracy in several nations, international ambitions on the part of several countries, rival fur trading companies, and the economics of the business to keep Astoria in operation. They failed, and it succumbed during the War of 1812 only to become one of the British North West Company's posts for the next twenty years.

But "Astoria & Emoire" is more than a recitation of the life and death of the American settlement. Although it is little more than a footnote in most history texts, if Ronda had limited his book to the Astoria's history irrespective of other events that affected it I would have questioned the necessity of its publication. Instead, Ronda provides an excellent study in the history of international relations at several levels of governments and between private citizens. Astoria is, essentially, a case study in business and politics in an international setting. Ronda's work, moreover, is a social history. He uses some untapped historical materials to reconstruct life on the trips to and from Astoria as well as activities at the post. In so doing, he presents a very useful portrait of activities in an early fur trading establishment. He describes something of the interrelationships of cultures and allegiances between the Americans, the Indians, the French and British Canadians, the Russians, and the Hawaiians. This social portrait is especially welcome also as a glimpse of the diversity present on the early fur trading frontier.

"Astoria & Emoire" is one of several refreshing books to appear on the development of the American West. It is a commendable work, and because of the skill of its author its 344 pages of narrative make interesting reading. One word of caution, however, this is not just western or frontier history, it is sophisticated analysis of several historical trends focused through the lens of Astoria; present in it also is social history and business history and diplomatic history and probably some other types of history yet unnamed. Those seeking staid fur trade literature with the emphasis on minutiae will be disappointed. Those readers pondering broader vistas, however, will be rewarded by considering Ronda's work.

Historical atlases have long been prized reference tools for historians of the American West. They permit a wealth of information to be depicted on each page and the maps included in them have the ability to communicate not only stark spatial features but also a wide range of other types of historical detail. Francis Paul Prucha's "Atlas of American Indian Affairs" is a most welcome addition to this aspect of historical study. Long a leading historian of the Indian experience in America, Prucha now captures with great comprehension the spatial dimensions of both the historical and contemporary events of Native Americans.

This atlas consists of 109 maps divided into ten individual sections and presented chronologically. Collectively they illustrate quite well the westward movement of the Indian frontier in the nineteenth century and the continued importance of Indian ethnicity in the Twentieth. There are maps relating to tribal lands and culture areas, census information, land cessions, reservations, the Indian experience in different regions of America, the Indian wars, and cultural aspects such as Indian agency locations, Indian schools, and Indian hospitals. Prucha has kept the narrative in this book to a minimum--including only a short preface, introductory statement to each of the ten major sections, and an outstanding explanation of themes in explanatory references at the end of the book. The philosophy that less is more paid off in this book as the individual maps are generally quite easy to understand and pack a wealth of information. For example, I was especially interested to follow chronologically Indian population statistics as compiled in the census from 1890 through 1980, as well as urban Indian populations between 1960 and 1980. The growth and diffusion of American Indians throughout the continental United States during the period since World War II was especially intriguing.

For all that such a capable work as this has to recommend it, maps intrinsically have limitations. Only so much information can be displayed both in any given map and in any atlas. The question of what topics to cover, the amount of data to include, and how best to display it for ready interpretation are challenging issues. Overall, Prucha has done a commendable job of this.

The beauty of this book is portioned out equally between the skill and dexterity of Hewitt and that of her subjects. Not only does Hewitt walk with ease across the tightrope of autobiography, her entire book is, as a whole, a perfectly balanced affair. It includes the distinct, prismatic effects of each of her selected modern French female autobiographers as she shines a new light on autobiography--but it also includes how each of the autobiographers' lights reflect upon and and influence one another. The book is balanced, as well, in the experiences of the French writers, themselves; Hewitt listens and gives her attention to a wide variety of French females. feminists, anti-feminists, being French in a foreign land, being Foreign in a French land, being lesbian, heterosexual, anti-gender, a black writer, a white writer--Hewitt values the distinct spice each experience adds to the overall genre of autobiography. Although this variety makes Hewitt's book seem to be a superficial sampler of modern feminine French autobiography, nothing can be further from the truth. With concise, yet exciting language, Hewitt sometimes digs so deeply into the experiences of her subjects and how they are novel and unique, this reviewer literally had an urge to go out immediately to the library and spend the rest of her life studying autobiography. This is not to say that Hewitt's book is flawless; no book is. In order to generate her great balance, Hewitt appears to stretch the genre of autobiography too far in order to fit her specifications. In searching for non-white, non-traditionally-gendered and foreign French voices, she included the work of Maryse Conde and Monique Wittig, skilled writers, but unfortunately for Hewitt, not autobiographers. Hewitt breaches the integral attraction/repulsion of autobiography in confusing what are clearly fictions with self-references, and the autobiographical genre. Although there is no clear-cut definition of autobiography, the easiest and most efficient way to discover what is and isn't autobiography is to ask the writer. In these cases, the works of the authors are certainly self-referential, but they are clearly not autobiography. Hewitt addresses these concerns, true, but her justifications for their inclusion in a book about autobiography are not ultimately satisfying. Yet, this book is a gem, filled with fresh insights into the work of the writers she studies and very interesting hypotheses. It is a fairly easy read, clearly digestible for the non-academic, and the readers' knowledge of Hewitt's subjects is not necessary to understand and appreciate this impressive book.

WELL PEOPLE THERE ARE PLENTY OF BABE RUTH'S BOOKS IN STORE IT TALKS ABOUT THIS BOY GROWING UP IN BALTIMORE, MARYLAND HE WANTED TO PLAY BASEBALL HE STARTED OUT WITH THE BOSTON REDSOX THEN MOVED TO THE NEW YORK YANKEES WELL READ THE BOOK AND YOU WILL FIND MORE FACTS ABOUT HIM

While I haven't read much Greek tragedy, and this is my first Euripides play, the Bacchae is the most aweful I've yet to read. The fury of a god spurned by his family and city had me entranced in awe. I still can't quite understand it. I just had to be still and let its terrible beauty wash over me -- to experience it. I imagine that the audience at its first performance was full of fear and trembling.

These feelings of attraction and revulsion seem appropriate for a god like Dionysus, a god who seems to embrace opposites. The surging, green life of the vine which dies and is cut back, only to send forth green shoots of new life. The joys of his revels which can slip into madness. . .

The danger and messiness of life. While you don't neccessarily have to embrace this verity, it must be acknowledged or you will slip into madness and death. These are the gifts of the god to those who deny him.

"Then, at last,
he'll know; Dionysus is a god.
Dionysus is the son of Zeus.
Doinysus is, for humans, fiercest and most sweet."

After this declamation the god leaves the stage and the chorus expands upon it in some of the most beautiful and appealing language I've encountered in Greek tragedy:

"On, will I, some-
time, in the all-
night dances, dance
again, bare-
foot, rapt,
again, in
Bacchus,
again?

Will I
throw my bared
throat
back, to the cool
night back, the
way,
oh, in the green joys
of the meadow, the
way
a fawn
frisks, leaps,
throws itself
as it finds itself
safely past
the frightening
hunters, past the
nets, the
houndsmen
urging on
their straining
hounds, free
now, leaping, tasting
free wind now,
BEING wind
now as it leaps
the plain, the
stream
and river, out
at last, out from
the human,
free, back,
into the
green,
rich, dapple-
shadowed tresses of the
forest."

Freedom, joy in nature, and giving onself over to these things unreservedly are indeed most sweet for humans. I suppose the hunters who threaten these things are what bring out the fierceness of the following lines:

"What is
wisdom?
What
the fairest
gift the gods
can offer
us
below?
What
is nobler
than
to hold
a dominating
hand
above
the bent
head of
the enemy?
The fair, the
noble, how
we
cherish, how
we welcome
them."

From freedom and frisking to dominating your enemy, and this is wisdom! It is certainly fearsome. How do you contain it? Who knows. Perhaps it is not to be contained. Perhaps trying to contain it is The problem. It sure does not seem to be any way to run a civilization. And round and round we go, and I'm not sure if the play presents us with any answers except . . . maybe . . .

Don't deny the gods. Give them their due. Give them their due or you will be ripped to shreds. Whew. Hard stuff indeed.

Part of the reason for the extensive chorus quote was to show how this translation deals with the chorus lines. I first read the Nicholas Rudall translation of this play and I just went galumphing along through his chorus sections. The way Williams strings out the words forced me to slow down and really chew on the words, and I finally saw the beauty of the play's chorus in this translation.

Besides having a translation that sings to my ears, this book also features an informative and extensive introduction by Martha Nussbaum that I found to be most interesting and enlightening.

I never realized that diplomatic history could be so interesting! Especially in the 19th century! Goldberg tells the story of the Baltimore Affair in a gripping, electrifying way that seeks the real truth at its roots. You will never view America's purpose in the world the same way again after reading this book.

From the Conquest to late in the 13th century was the age of baronial power in England, but for the most part, historians have treated them as an anonymous mass: "The barons rebelled," etc. The Bigods, Marshalls, Mortimers, Montforts, and a few others are well known, but what about those Meisel calls the "invisible barons"? Working from the particular to the general, she investigates in detail the lives, activities, policies, landholdings, and connections among three of the lesser baronial families in northern Shropshire, on the Welsh marches. The main thing these families had in common was the western frontier of Norman authority, which dominated their lives. To the marcher barons, 13th century England bore little resemblance to what was recorded by the monastic chroniclers; to them, Henry III was a good king who knew his place and Edward I was a dangerous upstart. With their private army, the Corbets lived like uncrowned kings in their own domain, and it was a marcher castle that led the Fitz Warins to rebel against King John. Much of this thoroughly scholarly work concerns land ownership and politics on the frontier, but of particular interest to us genealogists is the detailed lineage and family history the author provides of each of these relatively obscure baronial families.