“Wouldst Thou Like to Live Deliciously?” Robert Eggers’s The Witch (2015) as a Miltonian Temptation Narrative

Cultural theorist and political philosopher Walter Benjamin (b. 1892–d. 1940) reflected on the thought processes and imaginative life of the child both in dedicated writings and, tangentially, in his major works. As a young man Benjamin wrote essays critical of high school education, and he was a supporter of the German Youth Movement until he became disillusioned with its nationalist tone. Subsequently Benjamin’s engagement shifted toward early childhood and took many forms: he collected antique children’s books; recorded the sayings and opinions of his infant son; made radio broadcasts for children; composed a memoir of his own childhood years in Berlin; and devoted a number of prose fragments to aspects of drama for young people, play, toys, and the numinous qualities of childhood reading. Influenced by the German Romantic view of the purity of a child’s vision that removes the subject-object barrier, Benjamin suggests in these works that in the course of developing an intense relationship with its immediate locality the child simultaneously absorbs and animates the innate qualities of the natural or manufactured object. Benjamin also regarded language play, witnessed in the utterances of his young son and the magical resonance of his own childhood misunderstandings, as essential to the formation of memory images and the imagination. He does not, however, present an idealized vision of childhood, since children are engaged in a cycle of destruction as well as renewal, and play with the detritus of daily life is essential to the growth of the child’s autonomy—as indeed are acts of mimesis and an immersion in the imaginative world of the book and its illustration. Alongside these observations on the child’s intellectual and imaginative development, Benjamin assumes the role of mentor in broadcasts for children that seek to encourage a historical and political consciousness in the young. He returns to his student interest in education in essays on the nature of colonial and proletarian pedagogy, and in a manifesto on proletarian children’s theater. Initially, little critical attention was paid to Benjamin’s writings on childhood in the English-speaking world, partly because of their gradual appearance in English translation. It is only in recent decades that the significance of Benjamin’s illuminating reflections on childhood, play, and education has become apparent, and that the autobiographical Berlin Childhood around 1900) has gained recognition as an expression in serial “thought-images” of the speculation on memory and materialist historiography that is essential to his philosophy.

Explains how the American horror movie came into existence Although early cinema has long been a key area of research in film studies, the origin and development of the horror film has been a neglected subject for what is arguably one of the world’s most popular film genres. Using thousands of primary sources and long-unseen illustrations, The Birth of the American Horror Film examines a history that begins in colonial Salem, taking an interdisciplinary approach to explore the influence of horror-themed literature, theatre and visual culture in America, and how that context established an amorphous structural foundation for films produced between 1895 and 1915. Exhaustively researched, bridging scholarship on Horror Studies and Early Cinema, The Birth of the American Horror Film is the first major study dedicated to this vital but often overlooked subject. Read an interview with Gary Rhodes on SYFYWIRE Key features The first scholarly book dedicated to the birth of the American horror film Bridges scholarship on Horror Studies and Early Cinema Examines pre-cinema (literature, theatre and visual culture), as well as major works in early horror-themed cinema Suitable for use on courses focusing on Film History, Genre and Horror "

Reviewed by: The Cambridge Introduction to Franz Kafka by Carolin Duttlinger Kata Gellen The Cambridge Introduction to Franz Kafka. By Carolin Duttlinger. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2013. Paper $20.99. Pp. 153. ISBN 978-0521757713. It is genuinely refreshing to read a book on Kafka without an agenda or all-encompassing thesis about how to interpret Kafka and what our earlier readings were missing—even if such books also have their time and place. Carolin Duttlinger, the author of The Cambridge Introduction to Franz Kafka, offers an overview of Kafka’s works that both situates them in their historical, cultural, and biographical contexts and provides penetrating close readings of the novels and a substantial number of shorter works. The central aim of the book appears to be to identify overarching themes and problems in Kafka’s oeuvre and to explore possibilities for interpreting them. The book will be a valuable resource to any student of Kafka seeking to understand the world out of which Kafka emerges and to find a way into his major works. It is remarkable how much pertinent information Duttlinger packs into the first two sections of the book, “Life” and “Contexts,” especially considering that they total only sixteen pages. The biographical section touches on the major events and experiences in Kafka’s life that are thought to have influenced his writing: his family relationships, his romantic attachments, his friendship with Max Brod and other Prague intellectuals, his education as a jurist, his work in accident insurance, and his struggle with illness. The section on contexts highlights areas that have come to play a bigger role in Kafka scholarship in the last twenty years (multilingual and multicultural Prague, urban modernity) as well as ones established long ago (psychoanalysis, Judaism). Additionally, Duttlinger connects Kafka to related developments in modernist aesthetics such as expressionism and new media, especially film and photography. By far the longest section of the book is the one entitled “Works,” which proceeds chronologically from Kafka’s first published writings to the last stories, with the longest sections devoted to the three novels. As noted, Duttlinger gives compact, accessible, and nontendentious readings that cover a lot of methodological ground. For instance, her reading of The Metamorphosis discusses such issues as narrative perspective and tone, translation, eroticism, familial estrangement and struggle, capitalist mass modernity, and music and sound; along the way, she makes meaningful reference to expressionism, horror film, and Deleuze and Guattari’s theory of “becoming-animal.” These remarks will provide at least a useful summary and at most a variety of interpretive possibilities to anyone who has read this story—which, it is fair to assume, most of Duttlinger’s readers will have. Other particularly strong sections include the ones on The Man Who Disappeared (formerly known as Amerika), The Castle, and the collection of stories The Hunger Artist. The final short chapter, “Scholarship and Adaptation,” gives a quick overview of some of the debates around the editing and publication of Kafka’s works, a hypercompact history of Kafka criticism (the progression from allegorical to text-immanent, [End Page 397] psychoanalytic, deconstructionist, and cultural-historical readings), and a brief presentation of three famous film adaptations (Welles’s 1962 The Trial, Straub and Huillet’s 1984 Class Relations, based on The Man Who Disappeared, and Haneke’s 1997 The Castle). There are recurrent motifs in Duttlinger’s study, which function as useful signposts as the reader makes his or her way through the dense presentation of Kafka’s writings: the new media landscape of modernity (considering Duttlinger has published a book on Kafka and photography, this focus is not surprising), the problem of intergenerational struggle as a feature of expressionism, and the various ways to understand the meaning and function of Kafka’s animals. One further motif that Duttlinger treats with particular care is the problem of freedom versus the more circumscribed possibility of finding “ways out,” a topic that Kafka addresses specifically in such stories as “Report to an Academy” and which critics have attended to as well. This attentiveness seems apt, given that Duttlinger’s own methodology could be described as an attempt to offer “ways in” to Kafka’s works: not complete or...

Subject area Entrepreneurship, agriculture, small business management and strategic planning. Study level/applicability This case is most relevant to undergraduates. Case overview This case is about Azad Ahmed who will soon graduate from his business school. He has the option of either landing in a high-paying job or joining his family business. Azad has the task of thinking for his family's future and turning the family business around. The case gives information on the condition of the agriculture sector in Pakistan, issues that the sector is facing, its non-traditional alternatives and the bright future it holds for the farmers who want to enter into agribusiness to capture international markets. The case also talks about how ownership structure of a family farm changes as the family expands further and baton is passed on to the future generations. Expected learning outcomes The case should get the students to define the term “family business” and weigh the perks and risks of working in a family business; recognize the importance of agriculture and farming in the Pakistani context; evaluate the dynamics of family expectations with respect to collectivistic society; identify the ownership transition stages and transition elements such as trigger points; define the term “agriprenuers”; and set up a business plan for agribusiness. Supplementary materials Teaching Notes are available for educators only. Please contact your library to gain login details or email support@emeraldinsight.com to request teaching notes.

To Rise in Darkness: Revolution, Repression and Memory in El Salvador, 1920 – 1932

My Nation:The Transatlantic Vision of Thomas Flanagan Shaun O'Connell Henry James posed a compelling and influential statement when, in an 1872 letter to Charles Eliot Norton, he wrote, "It's a complex fate, being an American, and one of the responsibilities it entails is fighting against a superstitious valuations of Europe."1 But James—feeling hemmed in while living in his family's Cambridge, Massachusetts, home, not yet thirty and eager to fly past the nets of nationality if not language and religion—did not strenuously resist the high evaluation of Europe he had formed during his recent year abroad. For James, life in Cambridge was arid, a desert, while Europe represented his lost Eden. "Very special and very interesting," he wrote, "to catch in the fact the state of being the American who has bitten deep into the apple of 'Europe' and then been obliged to take his lips from the fruit."2 He would soon return to taste Europe and pursue his art of fiction. By "Europe," James largely meant Italy, France, and England, nations where he would reside. He certainly did not mean Ireland, a land he would later visit only briefly, though his grandfather, William James, arrived in New York City from County Cavan in 1789 at age eighteen with little money and a Latin grammar. Three decades later this émigré would be a large landowner in Manhattan and in Syracuse, as well as a banker and manufacturer; his fortune financed successive generations of Jameses, but his grandson Henry did not treat this family story as an Irish-American success saga. Henry James rejected America's cultural paucity and showy wealth for Europe, rich in the fruits of history and learning, [End Page 130] a landscape of his heart's desire that reached from London, through Paris to Rome. "He had taken possession [of Europe], inhaled it, appropriated it," writes a recent critic, paraphrasing James's own words.3 Ireland lay fully beyond the pale of Henry James's imagination. That same year, reading Hawthorne's journals of his travels in France and Italy, James described the New England romancer as the quintessential American innocent abroad, unable to appreciate Europe's nuances and complexities, illustrated by Hawthorne's prudish shock at naked statuary. "We seem to see him," James wrote in his Nation review, "strolling through churches and galleries as the last pure American—attesting by his shy responses to dark canvases and cold marble his loyalty to a simpler and less encumbered civilization."4 Nathaniel Hawthorne's innocence, so tellingly American, was nothing less than willful ignorance in the eyes of Henry James, writing in the persona of a multinational, cosmopolitan flaneur. While preparing to compose his first major work, The Portrait of A Lady, James wrote a monograph for a British audience in which he again used Hawthorne as a foil to define his own sense of national identity. James famously "enumerated the items of high civilization," absent in Hawthorne's time "from the texture of American life, until it should become a wonder to know what was left." The list of missing cultural amenities borders on the ludicrous: "no Oxford, nor Eton, nor Harrow; no literature, no novels, no museums, no pictures" and so on. But, then, James, perhaps unwilling to wholly repudiate lingering national loyalties for his birthplace, turns the argument around. "The American knows that a good deal remains; what it is that remains—that is his secret, his joke, as one may say."5 Though he became an English citizen during the World War I, James would retain allegiance to the nation and city of his birth, exploring his native ground one final time in The American Scene (1904-05) and titling his collected works The New York Edition (1907-09). The unresolved tensions between his loyalty to America, despite its telling absences, and his love of Europe, despite its dark history, constituted the basis for his international novels, from The American (1877) to The Ambassadors (1903), works that portray repressed but impressionable Americans coming to full consciousness, moral and aesthetic, while visiting Europe. None of James's innocents abroad experience epiphanies of place in Ireland. [End Page...

In this article, the authors explore the consequences of an American 1930s classic anthropological study for a contemporary rural community in the west of Ireland. The contribution of family, kin, and community relations to sustaining a rural way of life was the primary focus of Arensberg and Kimball’s study of Irish farm families published as Family and Community in Ireland. Through the frame of a collaborative community research project with an artist, sociologist, and the descendents of the families written about, we present an account of a research project based on Kimball’s 1930s field diary that provided an opportunity for community members to tell their own story of family and community in the 21st century. Deploying a narrative inquiry approach, the power of local stories to interrupt dominant narratives of family and community is explored.

CHATTAWAY, Clay, and Warren ELOFSON – Rocking P Ranch and the Second Cattle Frontier in Western Canada. Calgary: University of Calgary Press, 2019. Pp. 254. There are “very few really bountiful primary materials with which to chart rural family history,” Clay Chattaway and Warren Elofson rightly declare on page 1 of this book, the product of a particularly bountiful collection. The Macleay family papers—detailed business records, diaries, letters, timelines and, especially, the Rocking P Gazette, an illustrated newsletter produced for the Rocking P Ranch from 1923-1925—chart the history of the Rocking P Ranch of southern Alberta. Chattaway and Elofson particularly lean on the remarkable Gazette, edited and mostly written and illustrated by owner Rod and Laura Macleay’s daughters Dorothy and Maxine. The result is a beautifully illustrated book that provides a fascinating glimpse into a particular time and place, the world of southern Alberta ranch country before the Second World War. The book is divided into two sections. The first tells the story of the Macleay family and the founding and development of their ranch. Rod, a native of Quebec’s Eastern Townships, came west in 1901 with 329 head of cattle in order to make his fortune in western Canada. In its first attempt to turn the arid grasslands of southern Alberta into meat and cash, the Canadian government had previously ceded large areas to big cattle companies, who, following the practice on the US southern plains, turned animals loose to graze. Then came the “killing winter of 1906/7.” On November 15, 1906, “rain that had been falling for two weeks suddenly turned to snow and the temperature plummeted. … Some three feet of snow fell in a few hours. Then the temperature climbed above freezing for a few hours and quickly dropped again, forming a layer of hard crust under the fresh snow…” (p. 34). Cattle, left alone on the high plains and unable to reach the grass, died of starvation and cold. Rod Macleay and other family operators, however, who held cattle behind fences and stored hay and other feed for them, survived with their herds largely intact. The killing winter meant the end of the large companies and the start of the family era. Family operators understood, Chattaway and Elofson argue, that they needed to work within the limits of the environment. They practiced not just ranching but also mixed farming, by which they fed their livestock and themselves. They solved the problem of overgrazing. Laura, later with her daughters, fed the ranch by buying food and growing it and also by being a deft hand with a .22 rifle. Laura and Rod were also savvy businesspeople, and the ranch grew. When they bought the Bar S Ranch in 1919 it was news as far away as Manitoba, and Dorothy and Maxine’s Gazette served a large community of family and hired hands across several sites. The claim that the mixed family farm was a superior vehicle for organizing an economically and environmentally sustainable form of ranching is fascinating, and it would have been interesting to hear more. What exactly is it about the family farm model that allowed it to work sustainably? The authors argue that the presence of the owner was crucial—Rod Macleay had a hand in every aspect of the ranch’s operation. But why exactly large corporations could not pen and manage livestock and family operations could is not drawn out in any detail. Nor is it directly explained how the family ranches solved the problem of overgrazing; rather, Macleay is praised for drawing on the ranch’s own resources and using up “substandard grain” as feed (p. 43). It would also have been good to hear more about the Rocking P Ranch as a family farm. Many of the arguments made here about the operation of the ranch parallel recent arguments made by other historians. R. W. Sandwell argues that, up to the Second World War, Canadian rural households typically relied on a combination of off-farm work, the growing of food for the household, and the production and sale of a cash crop. This describes the Rocking P Ranch, but it was also a highly capitalized...

James Wan’s 2013 film The Conjuring appears on many critics’ best horror films of the decade lists and was rated R by the MPAA solely “for terror.” Allegedly based on the true story of the Perron family’s experiences in a haunted farmhouse in rural Rhode Island, the film comes from the files of pioneer paranormal investigators Ed and Lorraine Warren, and tells the story of how the Perron family came under supernatural assault from Bathsheba Sherman, a demonic eighteenth century witch, and how the Warrens investigated and eventually exorcised her. The book examines how Wan created the paragon of virtuosic, effective, terrifying haunted house movies, and then goes on to consider how the film plays with the idea of “a true story,” the role of religion in the film, how children’s games and toys are made the source of adult terror, how The Conjuring is a female-centered but not feminist film, and how the film spawned the “Conjuring Universe,” a growing series of half a dozen sequels, prequels, and related films. The Conjuring is an effective, good, old-fashioned horror film. It is genuinely scary and anxiety-inducing, greater than the sum of its parts and it is greater than its marketing campaign of “based on a true story” would seem to suggest. The book analyses the film on multiple levels and contextualizes it as a twenty-first century horror classic.

Bradbury’s 1999 induction into the Science Fiction Hall of Fame opens chapter 36. That year he also received the George Pal Memorial Award from the Academy of Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror Films, followed in 2000 by a National Book Foundation Medal. His November 1999 stroke and subsequent loss of sight in his left eye did not prevent him from attending this ceremony, or from finally gathering his half-century-old stories of the supernatural Elliot family into a novelized story collection, From the Dust Returned. The chapter closes with Bradbury’s cautions against the loss of freedom of the imagination; these thoughts had resurfaced in his new book’s inter-chapter bridges and in his letter to Leon Uris reflecting on the mid-century climate of fear.

This chapter examines the ways in which farming families in the Nanticoke experienced and adapted to economic change by focusing on the story of the Young family and their decades-long effort to establish a farm “under difficulties.” Led by the sixty-year-old George Young, the Young family are a living proof of “the successes that had been attained by farmers” in the region. In their shared work and family commitments, as well as in their concern with agricultural improvement and involvement in farmers' cooperatives, the Youngs exemplified the values held by most Nanticoke Valley farmers. The history of the Young farm also illustrates what Ralph Young, a son of George, called “progressive ideas”; the family adopted the latest techniques and machinery and specialized in dairying. The development of their farm illustrates the entire sequence of changes in methods of production, processing, and marketing that occurred between 1900 and 1945. This chapter also considers the essential contributions made by rural women, as seen in the Young women, to the family farm.

A major work of history, investigative journalism that breaks new ground, and personal memoir, Carry Me Home is a dramatic account of the civil rights era's climactic battle in as the movement led by Martin Luther King, Jr., brought down the institutions of segregation.The Year of Birmingham, 1963, was one of the most cataclysmic periods in America's long civil rights struggle. That spring, King's child demonstrators faced down Commissioner Bull Connor's police dogs and fire hoses in huge nonviolent marches for desegregation -- a spectacle that seemed to belong more in the Old Testament than in twentieth-century America. A few months later, Ku Klux Klansmen retaliated with dynamite, bombing the Sixteenth Street Baptist Church and killing four young black girls. Yet these shocking events also brought redemption: They transformed the halting civil rights movement into a national cause and inspired the Civil Rights Act of 1964, which abolished legal segregation once and for all.Diane McWhorter, the daughter of a prominent white Birmingham family, brilliantly captures the opposing sides in this struggle for racial justice. Tracing the roots of the civil rights movement to the Old Left and its efforts to organize labor in the 1930s, Carry Me Home shows that the movement was a waning force in desperate need of a victory by the time King arrived in Birmingham. McWhorter describes the competition for primacy among the movement's leaders, especially between Fred Shuttlesworth, Birmingham's flamboyant preacher-activist, and the already world-famous King, who was ambivalent about the direct-action tactics Shuttlesworth had been practicing for years.Carry Me Home isthe first major movement history to uncover the segregationist resistance. McWhorter charts the careers of the bombers back to the New Deal, when Klansmen were agents of the local iron and coal industrialists fighting organized labor. She reveals the strained and veiled collusion between Birmingham's wealthy establishment and its designated subordinates -- politicians, the police, and the Klan.Carry Me Home is also the story of the author's family, which was on the wrong side of the civil rights revolution. McWhorter's quest to find out whether her eccentric father, the prodigal son of the white elite, was a member of the Klan mirrors the book's central revelation of collaboration between the city's Big Mules, who kept their hands clean, and the scruffy vigilantes who did the dirty work.Carry Me Home is the product of years of research in FBI and police files and archives, and of hundreds of interviews, including conversations with Klansmen who belonged to the most violent klavern in America. John and Robert Kennedy, J. Edgar Hoover, George Wallace, Connor, King, and Shuttlesworth appear against the backdrop of the unforgettable events of the civil rights era -- the brutal beating of the Freedom Riders as the police stood by; King's great testament, his Letter from Birmingham Jail; and Wallace's defiant stand in the schoolhouse door. This book is a classic work about this transforming period in American history.

35 *Farid Al_Salim earned his PhD in History in 2007 from the University of Arkansas in Fayetteville,AR. In 2008,he joined the History Department at Kansas State University in Manhattan, Kansas and he he became member of the Security Studies faculty. Dr Al Salim research interest centered on social and economic history of the Middle East with main focus on Greater Syria and Egypt. Journal of South Asian and Middle Eastern Studies Vol. XXXIV, No.4, Summer 2011 The Contest between Secular and Islamist Movements in Egypt 1936-1945 Study in Naguib Mahfouz’s Sugar Street Farid Al-Salim* Sugar Street is set in Cairo; and the action takes place from the 1930’s to after the end of World War II. It is one of the most famous novels concerning that period in the Middle East, and is considered to be a major work of Egyptian literature. Sugar Street is the third and final book in the Cairo Trilogy, which traces the life of a middle-class Egyptian family from 1919 to just after the end of the Second World War. The preceding books are Palace Walk and Palace of Desire. All of these books are named after streets in the old section of Cairo: in Sugar Street, the home of the head of the family is located on Sugar Street, which is the closest street to a bridge over the Nile River linking the old and new parts of Cairo In Sugar Street, Naguib Mahfouz has three objectives. He is telling a story, voicing a call to revolution and showing a situation. The first level of the novel is that it is the story of an Egyptian family. The life of the Abd alJawad family is full of intermarriages, disputes, tragedies and hopes. This is, however, only the most superficial aspect of the novel. 36 1 Matti Moosa. The Early Novels of Naguib Mahfouz: Image of Modern Egypt. (Gainesville: University Press of Florida, 1994), 255-256 2 Muhammad Mustafa Badawi. Modern Arabic Drama in Egypt. (Cambridge; New York: Cambridge University Press, 1987), 47 Naguib Mahfouz presents his views on everything from religion and politics to marriage, life and death in such a manner that the state censors at the time of publication, 1952, would not be able to accuse of being antigovernment . He says things that are not necessarily easy for people to hear, regardless of whether these things are right or wrong. This was a political risk for Mr. Mahfouz. He almost lost his life at the hand of a Muslim fanatic in 1994. In Sugar Street, the author described the rapid social changes in Egypt during the late 1930 and the World War II period-- tremendous upheavals in family structure, in women’s roles, in politics, and in the lives of the characters. Mahfouz shows us Egyptian colonial society in all its complexity. The characters get out more – the center of gravity shifts to new homes, new neighborhoods, universities, newspaper offices, and the public space in general. All of this brilliantly shows the significant social changes that occurred in Egypt over this period. Sugar Street is a call to the Egyptian people to unite, resolve their internal differences and fight against the foreign and domestic enemies of Egypt. These enemies include foreign powers which controlled or attempted to control Egypt such as the British, the Germans, the French and the Italians. By domestic enemies, Mahfouz means Muslim Brotherhood who wanted to turn Egypt again into an Islamic state, some of the nationalist groups which wanted power in order to oppress the Egyptian people, and the monarchy and aristocracy which wanted to maintain power.1 ( I ) Historical Background Throughout the period extending between 1516 and 1798, the Ottoman empire adopted a policy of total impenetrability to European influence in its heartland territories like Egypt and Syria, which resulted not only in the isolation of these regions but also in their cultural, scientific and intellectual deterioration.2 The emergence of secularism in the Middle East dates back to the first major post-Renaissance European military intervention in the region known as Napoleon’s campaign on Egypt and which took place in 1798. The Egyptians in particular came...

Offers the first collection of critical essays on Wallace Fox, one of Hollywood’s first Native American film directors Examines the entirety of Fox’s career in film and television Provides focus on Fox’s major works in the areas of the horror film, the western, the women’s picture, and the movie serial Analyses the importance of Fox's role as one of the first Native American directors working in Hollywood Born in Oklahoma into the Chickasaw Nation, Wallace Fox directed films over the span of four decades. Known primarily for Westerns and mystery films, his output starred such famed actors as Bela Lugosi, Bob Steele, and Lon Chaney. ReFocus: The Films of Wallace Fox includes analysis of some of his best known films, including Wild Beauty , Gun Town , The Corpse Vanishes , Bowery at Midnight , Career Girl and Brenda Starr, Reporter . It reclaims the history and artistry of this major talent.

At the heart of The Border Men is a description of the Battle of King's Mountain in 1780. Being partial to Wilma Dykeman's account ofthat battle in her book With Fire and Sword (1978), I wished for less anecdote and more historical texture in Judd's account than I got. In his afterword, however, Judd admits that "this episode alone could easily be developed into a large novel; my treatment of it in this broader-scoped work is brief and somewhat simplified." True. But I felt a bit deprived, just as I remember feeling disappointed when Richard Waverley missed the entire Battle of Culloden in Scott's Waverley. That progenitor of historical fiction is certainly no War and Peace, and I suppose the dilemma for historical novelists faced with such a huge moment as a major battle has always been either omit it, simplify it, or devote a thousand pages to it. Cameron Judd, to his credit, does give his readers some of the high moments at King's Mountain, with historical accuracy. Best of all in this novel, as in the first, are the stories of Joshua's interaction with the Cherokee. Cameron Judd handles the sensitive issue of Cherokee/ Anglo relations very well, but the shadow of the coming Trail of Tears (1838) looms ahead. Dragging Canoe, Oconostota, Nancy Ward—all have their parts to play in Joshua's life. If Judd's hero lives to a grandfatherly eighty-eight years, he will see the events of his youth play out with tragic results. With his major characters off to Kentucky at the end of this book, there is opportunity for yet another volume; whether Judd would take it as far as 1838 is questionable. The Border Men is a novel that can usefully be extra credit reading for a course in Tennessee, North Carolina, or Virginia colonial history, or Appalachian history. It has both the exciting pace that a New York subway commuter enjoys in a book after a hard day's work, and the historical authenticity even a DAR member would demand. For a second time, Cameron Judd offers Appalachian history to a wide audience: entertainment with style. —Parks Lanier Chuck Kinder. Snakehunter. Frankfort, Kentucky: Gnomon Press, 1991. 224 pages. $10.50. In the finest Appalachian tradition of James Still's Pattern of a Man, Gurney Norman's Kinfolks, and John Jacob Niles's ballads, Gnomon Press has published another major Appalachian work, Chuck Kinder's Snakehunter. Kinder's novel, which first appeared in print in 1973, details the coming of age of Speer Whitfield, who grows up in the town of Century, West Virginia, located on the Kanawha River. Three generations ofWhitfield family members, many ofwhom 68 are dead, are important in the life of this child whose father was killed in World War I. Snakehunter is full of interesting Whitfield characters—notably Aunt Erica, Grandpaw Clint Whitfield, and Hercules, Catherine, and Speer Whitfield. Aunt Erica, who owns the house in Century where the whole family lives, has money and political influence. Tobacco-chewing Grandpaw Clint Whitfield likes to talk about the old days during the coal boom when Century was called Hundred Mines and there were dams and locks on the river, and he pulled coal barges down the river in his own boat, the Snakehunter. Hercules, who is Speer's older cousin, is the meanest brat in the town of Century. Aunt Catherine is Speer's star relative. She shows an early interest in the boy, taking him with her to the library, letting him read while she is at work, and to the theater to see westerns and horror movies. Later, from a sanitarium, she writes in a language he cannot understand for years. In addition, he has a copy of her unsuccessful novel, in which a page index containing her symbols and archetypes was dedicated to all "Assistant Professors on the make." Speer concludes that she was a caution. The main character and narrator of Snakehunter is, of course, Speer Whitfield, a character of mythic proportions who tells us how he grew up in a diseased and dying family in a West Virginia coal town. He is always haunted...