Minnesota Books

On Lake Calhoun in Minneapolis there is a large rock with a heavily patinated plaque imbedded in it right under an impressive gold-domed church. The plaque is extremely weathered and greenish, and looks as if it has been reset more than once into the rock. It says that, above the rock on the hill, where the present day church now stands, is the original site of the first dwelling built in Minneapolis in 1834 by Samuel and Gideon Pond. I've walked by this historic marker for years while circling the lake, so when I came across Samuel Pond's work on the Dakota in Minnesota (including those that lived on Lake Calhoun), I had to read it.

Obviously, the salient thing about Lake Calhoun is the complete absence or even a tiny minute speck of evidence that it was once inhabited by Native Americans. They are simply gone without a trace. High rises and expensive homes now line the lake, and ice fishers speckle its icy surface from approximately October to February. From the viewpoint of today, it's almost impossible to believe Lake Calhoun was any different. That's only one thing that makes this book so great. It makes the reader aware of what was happening before the europeans arrived (or invaded as some people see it) in Minnesota.

The book was written by a missionary; Samuel Pond's sole purpose in habitating with the Dakota was to save souls. The somewhat happy and possibly unforeseen outcome of this was that Pond had to get to know these people incredibly unbelievably well to save them. So, as good missionaries will do, he literally shacked up with them. He hunted with them, observed rituals, went on long journeys with them, spoke their language fluently, and, most importantly, talked with them. This guy was there, he wasn't a journalist or a muckraker. He was literally on a mission.

The book, almost paradoxically, does not mention whether or not Pond was successful or not in "converting" or "saving" the Dakota. There is almost no mention whatsoever of his missionary work, so this is not a self-gratuitous work that shouts "look what I did!" What it is is an observance, a capturing of a people before that people completely disappeared (i.e., as they have today).

It is important to note that the book was not written while Pond lived with the Dakota. It was written some thirty or forty years after. Why? When Pond lived with the Dakota, there was no indication that within the next fifty years Native American culture would be more or less wiped out. As Pond observed this phenomenon, he found it best to write down his recollections of his life with the Dakota, since the culture no longer existed as it was in the 1830s. Pond wrote after what is now known as the Dakota Conflict of 1862, which radically changed the relations between whites and Dakota in the Upper Midwest, and resulted in the largest mass execution in United States History (in Mankato, Minnesota; Reconciliation Square now marks the spot where 38 Dakota were simultaneously hung by the neck for their supposed part in the events of 1862).

Pond is mostly very fair to the Dakota. He passionately defends them against what were the then mainstream accusations of laziness, uncleanliness, gluttony, and barbarity. Pond was overall very impressed by the Dakotas, and obviously had a lot of respect for them as a people. He is, however, not fair to the Dakota's religious practices - this is the one topic where Pond's ulterior motives really show - calling them "ridiculous superstitions".

All in all, Pond's descriptions and retelling of events are priceless for anyone curious about Dakota life before the overwhelming influence of european settlers set in. There are so many amazing stories winding throughout this text that picking one or two out as examples would be unjust to the rest. Pond also draws parallels between the life of european settlers of the time and of the Dakota. These are always fascinating, and Pond's intent seems to be making europeans think hard about their prejudices.

Why this book is not more widely read or talked about I'm at a loss to explain. Perhaps the missionary twist scares people off? Whatever the reason this book is vitally important in that it attempts to capture the culture that was completely destroyed in the 19th century. It is timely, of course, in that the Dakota are often referred to as "savages" or "heathens", but that adds a historical interest to the text, albeit a somewhat now sad one. One must prepare oneself for a 19th century read when dipping into this book. It is well worth the effort.

Lastly, this book was previously issued with its more historically accurate title of "The Dakota or Sioux in Minnesota As They Were in 1834". Changing the title seems somewhat strange since the author intended the title to emphasize that the work focused on "how they were" in 1834. The title change was likely undertaken to remove the word "Sioux" - a derogatory word that translates to "Snake". Nonetheless, the current title detracts from the work, and removes a certain historicity from it. The original title should be restored for historical accuracy and perspective.

This is a very short history of the 1862 Dakota War but it's absolutely FULL of information, maps, pictures and insights on this often overlooked American conflict. In this work Ken Carley achieved what few other writers of military history can. He found the most interesting and significant aspects of the conflict and presented them in a manner that informs the reader and is compelling to read. His work is larely unbiased. It doesn't favor the side of the victors as is often the case with works written about the Indian wars. Likewise, he avoids the politially correct tactic of portraying the whites as brutal invaders persecuting the poor, defenseless Native Americans.

Bravo! I would higly recommend this work to anyone intersted in the subject. As a native born Minnesotan, I would also say this is must read for folks in the area. It's a great summary of an important part of our history that we shouldn't forget.

I am certainly biased, but I love this book. It's not a conventional history of a city, but a perceptive analysis of contemporry American society in urban form. Graff reveals the underside of glitzy Dallas and goes on to show how the city's myth works to obscures the inequalities that shape this sprawling, segregated, suburbanized metropolis. Like Mike Davs's City of Quartz, a study of LA as postmodern America, this book delivers more than it promises. Read it, and you'll see skyscrapers, freeways, and city spaces in amazing new ways, wherever you go.

Reading my mother's stories in your book was the best birthday present I could ever have received. F. Rawn, Duluth

Daycare & Diplomas featured brief essays by teen mothers who remained in school to pursue their education and secure their eventual graduation from high school. Each contributor speaks with candor on the issues the specifically pertain to being pregnant and in school, providing invaluable insight and authority to their explanations and commentaries of what they had to cope with and how they were able to succeed. Recommended reading for adolescent girls (and boys), Daycare & Diplomas is a very highly advocated addition to high school library and counseling center collections, and is also very informative reading for parents and friends of girls facing the challenges of child-bearing, school attendance, and educational achievement.

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.