Cold Stone Research Articles

Bosman’s Cold Stone Jug and the Genesis of the South African Prison Memoir

This article considers Herman Charles Bosman’s memoir, Cold Stone Jug, as an early and influential prototype for the important genre of South African prison literature in the twentieth century. The memoir is attentive to the ways in which the material space of the Benthamite prison dictates social relationships and rituals, and becomes psychologically internalized. The article performs a close analysis of Bosman’s Cold Stone Jug in order to show how the distinctive chronotopes of the prison find expression in narrative form.

Power and the Prison: A Foucauldian Perspective on Herman Charles Bosman’s Cold Stone Jug and Willemsdorp

Although the political angle in Bosman’s writings as expressed in his language style are recognized, the prison writing as featured in his two late novels, Cold Stone Jug (1949) and Willemsdorp (written in 1951, first published posthumously in censored form in 1977 and in full in 1998), have received less scholarly attention, especially in terms of his political intent. The present study explores his preoccupation in these works with the brutality of the prison system and the power of the apartheid state. Foucault’s Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison (1975/1995) was employed as a useful theoretical lens in examining Bosman’s critique of the prison system in South Africa and the abuse of power within it. An analysis of the details of police brutality and abuse of power in the censored and uncensored published versions of Willemsdorp has also been included, highlighting the applicability of Foucault’s theorisation on discipline and punishment in the penal system to Bosman’s texts. This study brings to the fore Bosman’s critique of the state, its officials, the unjust practices and the political intention behind his prison writing.

At Times I Didn't Drown

At Times I Didn't Drown

An effect of thermo-stimulation of lower abdomen on autonomic nervous system: An experimental study.

ObjectiveDIt is need to evaluate he changes of the bio-signals through the hot-cold stimulation in the CV4.MethodsThe 30 healthy participants were enrolled and randomly allocated, to one of three groups(10 participants for each group): the hot stone therapy(HST) group, or the cold stone therapy(CST) group or no treatment group(NT). All the participants took a rest for 10 minutes for stability before the test. And additional 10 minute rest after measurements of skin test and sEMG. After that two group received hot or cold stone therapy for 30 minutes and one group treated nothing with HRV test.ResultsHRV LF value showed a significant increase over time in all three groups, but there was no significant difference between groups but HRV HF value did not show any significant difference with time in all three groups and there was no significant difference between groups. sEMG value showed a significant increase in the left side of the masseter muscle of the HST group and sebum levels was a significant decreased in HST group but no significant meaning was found.ConclusionThere was no objective evidence that hot-cold stimulation produced bio-signals changes in comparison to the control group, but additional studies are needed as the subjects were limited.

Access Nollywood

Access Nollywood

Downtown Nellmapius: The Vacant Plot Patient

No abstract available.

The Balcony by Jean Genet (review)

Reviewed by: The Balcony by Jean Genet Kimberly Jannarone The Balcony. By Jean Genet. Directed by Michael Hunter and Jamie Lyons. Collected Works, Old Mint Building, San Francisco. 7 February 2015. The Old Mint building in San Francisco is, in the words of directors Michael Hunter and Jamie Lyons, a “dead building.” Erected in 1874 to print extra money during the Gold Rush, it was decommissioned as a mint in 1937, allegedly transformed into a CIA spy hub during the Cold War, and then fell into disuse. It is a hulking, neglected monument to the city’s fluctuating fortunes: “Google buses” drive past during the day, homeless people sleep on its steps at night, and everyone sees the facade though almost no one goes inside. The building thus provides an ideal site for a drama about the hidden mechanics of power and the role of fantasy in constructing history. Collected Works, a San Francisco–based production company, tapped this potential by staging Jean Genet’s The Balcony in the vaults, corridors, public chambers, and private meeting rooms of this sandstone-and-granite building decaying in the midst of a city undergoing another epochal shift in power. Click for larger view View full resolution Nathalie Brilliant (Beggar’s Girl) and Florentina Mocanu-Schendel (Beggar) in The Balcony. (Photo: Jamie Lyons.) When spectators entered the imposing edifice we were invited to explore exhibitions in several ground-floor antechambers. Installations by textile artist Latifa Medjdoub (who also designed the costumes) established an atmosphere of erotic and menacing [End Page 729] trompe l’oeil. Her hybrid fabric constructions combined sculpture, costume, and conceptual art: images of iconic figures of power overlaid complex woven garments, materializing Genet’s metatheatrical threads of role-playing and the entanglements of authority. Madame Irma (Val Sinckler), the brothel-keeper, and her principal employee, Carmen (Ryan Tacata), addressed us as valued clients before ushering us down to the basement level. Here, the first scenes unfolded simultaneously in dimly lit granite rooms in which actors played actors playing roles of institutional power and sensual fantasy. Click for larger view View full resolution Lauren Dunagan (Judge) and Amy Munz (Thief) in The Balcony. (Photo: Jamie Lyons.) The choice to set us loose in the shadowy underground of a politically charged public building paid dividends with this play in two ways. For one, as it was impossible to see each of the simultaneous scenes from beginning to end, the staging forced spectators to make viewing decisions, and creeping in and out of intimate scenes of sexualized role-playing heightened our sense of voyeurism. For another, these brothel scenes in cramped, unfamiliar spaces had a concrete reality impossible to experience on a proscenium stage—we leaned against cold stone walls, overheard yelling from nearby rooms, and walked among performers whose faces were often obliterated by masks and fabric. The second half unfolded upstairs in spacious public halls and foyers. Madame Irma, Carmen, and the Police Chief (played by Scott Baker) dominated, plotting their transfer of power from the interior illusionistic world to the real politics of the government under siege outside their walls. When the fantasy-world employees and clients finally assumed their new roles they held court on a literal balcony while paparazzi ran among the spectators and snapped photos from below. The goal of integrating the site with the play was particularly successful here, as most audience members had never been inside before and had only imagined the building as a site of representations of political influence. Now we were watching representations of such representations within its columned halls. Lyons—who also works with San Francisco’s We Players, a production company committed to “site-integrated” performances that take place in public parks (for example, Ondine at Sutro Baths; Macbeth at Fort Point; Hamlet on Alcatraz)—advocates for performance that uses the site as another creative participant in the work: it should be character and designer, and it should shape the development and understanding of the piece. One scene in this Balcony illustrated the payoff of letting the space inform the text: the revolutionaries met in a cafeteria-style hall where lights and sirens from downtown filtered through the barred windows, the...

On the relationships among brand experience, hedonic emotions, and brand equity

Purpose– The purpose of this paper is to further examine the mediation mechanism to account for the influence of brand experience on brand loyalty by integrating the experiential view of consumption and the appraisal theory of emotion.Design/methodology/approach– An onsite interview survey was conducted in 21 stores of four service brands: Burger King, Cold Stone Creamery, McDonald’s and Starbucks Coffee. Confirmatory factor analysis is used for assessing validity and reliability. Structural equation modeling is used for examining construct relationships.Findings– Brand awareness/associations, perceived quality and hedonic emotions mediate the relationship between brand experience and brand loyalty. Hedonic emotions play a powerful mediation role. Moreover, it is the experiential view of consumption rather than the appraisal theory of emotion that plays a dominant role in accounting for the influence of brand experience on brand loyalty.Originality/value– This research extends previous studies on the relationship between brand experience and brand loyalty by adding hedonic emotions as a powerful affective mediator. Our research also contributes to practitioners by providing strategies for experiential marketing.

Articulating Everyday Catastrophes: Reflections on the Research Literacies of Lorri Neilsen

Articulating Everyday Catastrophes: Reflections on the Research Literacies of Lorri Neilsen

Proust and Eliot: An Intertextual Reading

Defining intertextuality as “the reader’s perception of relationships between one work and others, which either preceded or followed it” (Riffaterre), this essay sets out to highlight compelling similarities between Proust’s novel, A la recherche du temps perdu, and the fictional works of George Eliot. The emphasis is on affective memory (involuntary memory and emotional templates), ethical considerations (empathy and compassion), and the kind of self-reflexive reading both writers encourage through a complicit narration that implicates the reader. They show readers how emotional memory constitutes the essence of their personal history, thus anticipating modern research in psychology and the neurosciences. In doing so, they make us aware that there are no insurmountable barriers between fictional worlds and ours. In conclusion, this intertextual reading of two novelists from different centuries and cultures has confirmed that these insights are still valid today. This article is available in Studies in 20th & 21st Century Literature: http://newprairiepress.org/sttcl/vol36/iss1/3 Proust and Eliot: An Intertextual Reading Inge Crosman Wimmers Brown University That novels, though fiction, can touch our lives and give us the kind of insight that everyday life rarely affords us is undeniable. This holds true for novels from different ages and cultures, as George Eliot and Marcel Proust well knew. This realization is also central to my discussion of the intertextual relationship that I gradually discovered while reexamining their works. It all began when I was reminded of Proust’s admiration for Eliot while going through a new edition devoted to his correspondence. One of the most striking passages I came across is in a letter Proust wrote to Robert de Billy in March of 1910: C’est curieux que dans tous les genres les plus differents, de George Eliot a Hardy, de Stevenson a Emerson, il n’y a pas de litterature qui ait sur moi un pouvoir comparable a la litterature anglaise et americaine. L’Allemagne, l’Italie, bien souvent la France me laissent indifferent. Mais deux pages du Moulin sur la Floss me font pleurer. (Lettres 505-06) It is curious that in all the different genres from George Eliot to Hardy, from Stevenson to Emerson, there is nothing that affects me as much as English and American literature. Germany, Italy, quite often France leave me indifferent. But two pages of the Mill on the Floss make me cry. (my trans.)1 From another letter, as early as March 1897—some ten years before laying the groundwork for A la recherche du temps perdu, In Search of Lost Time—Proust revealed his admiration for Middlemarch to Edouard Rod: “Dans un roman comme Middlemarch c’est 1 Wimmers: Proust and Eliot: An Intertextual Reading Published by New Prairie Press 16 STT 3: 629). A third time, Andree, one of the novel’s characters, is said to be translating a novel by Eliot, and in doing so, to have the best time of her life: “ses meilleures heures etaient celles ou elle traduisait un roman de George Eliot” (2: 295) ‘her happiest hours were those she spent translating a novel by George Eliot’—a revealing comment, since the novel’s hero-narrator admits that he shares her intellectual interests and has a similar artistic sensibility. There is no denying that my curiosity was piqued by Proust’s early enthusiasm for Eliot and the absence of any such remarks in A la recherche du temps perdu. When rereading Eliot’s novels, I discovered some compelling similarities to Proust’s work. In this intertextual reading a rebours, I was especially drawn to affect and ethics, and certain aspects of style with a Proustian resonance. While I discuss these findings, I am not hunting for influences, which would be hard to prove, but rather, for a kind of double reading based on my own perception and reaction, a reading at once textual and memorial.4 Rereading Eliot’s The Mill on the Floss, my attention was drawn at once to certain aspects of the opening chapter.5 The narrator suddenly intrudes at the end of the first paragraph and becomes part of the scene, as things are described as felt and seen from within. It is a scene of remembrance with a Proustian twist, as is even more obvious when we reach the last paragraph: It is time too for me to leave off resting my arms on the cold stone of this bridge.... Ah, my arms are really benumbed. I have been pressing my elbows on the arms of my chair and dreaming that I was standing on the bridge in front of Dorlcote Mill as it looked one February 2 Studies in 20th & 21st Century Literature, Vol. 36, Iss. 1 [2012], Art. 3 http://newprairiepress.org/sttcl/vol36/iss1/3 DOI: 10.4148/2334-4415.1768

Demoiselles 7

Demoiselles 7 Ann Invitation I liketotakethekidstosee theladiesfromAvignon. —Art teacher from New Jersey prep school Ladies? Try five whores from the worst bordello in Barcelona, a place so bad two men in the painting fled. Oh yeah, themedical student.The sailor. We remember them. They didn't expect angular bodies, scarified cheekbones, iron hands and Iberian hair like coal dust. Come now,we'remuchmorebeautifulthanthat.Like Amazons, we've earned our ritualcuts. Picasso once called you philosophical. In pleated sheets and shards of sky, your elbows angle out like wings. Yes, wejly in daylightso ultraviolet oureyes burnout. But we seeyou mostclearlyindarkness.How doyou see us? Not angry: Resigned. Gracious as your flesh-colored fruit and sharp as its edges. Like molasses cubes melting in iced tea. A broken reflection otjazmin. Bringthechildren. We'll have tapas. People adore us: Wegive thempermissiontofall apart. To love thewreckage. We're terrified to expose our masks and distortions—why aren't you? You're respectable as a Walker Evans photo. Torn and retaped. At center, we'reembracedbyblueexpanse.No oneseesthepigment. Look closely,gringa,howheavencradles thefracturedself. Feminist Studies37, no. 3 (Fall 2011). © 2011 by Ann Cefola 649 650 Ann Cefola Origins At a crucial momentof reconsideration, Picasso tooka preliminarysketch fora torso,and bytheadditionofa few lines, began to transform whathad been theshouldersintoeyes, whathad been a ponytailand/ordorsal (or ventral?)deft intothenose line, a crotchintoa mouth,and thehip carriage intoa jaw. — Kirk Varnedoe, art historian It figures man would see our faces as torsos—yes, that is what they originally were. That exhibit of African Art at the Trocadero fascinated our creator. And he wasn't wrong at all — Mitochondrial Eve, nuestramama. And before her, who? The skeletons we call Omo I and Omo II, in the Omo River Valley. O Ethiopia! 195,000 years ago. Through the Saharan Gateway, hunter-gatherers take the land bridge from Bab Al Mandab to Arabia, then to Red Sea coast and Gulf of Aden. Hot sands block the Gateway. Our mothers stranded in the Middle East, turn to the Mediterranean, and with their Upper Paleolithic tongues, outspeak Neanderthals: 60,000 BCE: Origin of the term blockhead. But the names of our ancestors, their names! Haplogroups L3, M, N, R. Subgroups preHV, U, T and J.Hail H, pilgrim to North India, Central Asia. R5, R6, her children. Jose Ruiz Blasco. Maria Picasso y Lopez. Pablo. Apologia It is as ifsomeonehad drunkkeroseneso he could spitfire. —Georges Braque, on seeing Les Demoiselles a Avignon To be masked and exposed. To darken one's face with clay. To wear the tribal mask so often it adheres. Ann Cefola to birth, to squat, knees and arms akimbo. to counterpoint gold and coral flesh yet feel the Magritte-like hole left by men, long gone. We didn'tshootthearchduke. We saw themunravelinourarms. To give and daily be discarded. To live a heaviness in limb, To feel one's blood finely carbonated, To sink back into empty pupils. You blame Braque, Leger,Gris: They knewthedangerofstilllife. Of what splintered women could do. Revamp In Chartres. Thinking. God has a penis. And then. What if we replaced the Rose Window? Our angular forms just beyond the altar. Would you kneel, sit, or walk away? What if the trinity were the pentad? The cross a circle. Would you ascend its circumference? Would you understand a bright ring embraces all? What if we celebrated a woman's contours? The body not exile but home. We weremerelydoingourjob in theCarino D'Avinyo. Wedidn'tteachpeople to come undone. They saw theworldvibrate,could see theotherside. They heardthediscordantviolin,broken guitar. Why' What if we called the kingdom 652 Ann Cefola Queens MoMA 2002. In dark space they stand, towering, vacant eyes over my head—almost a century they had traveled. People lope by. In shadows I stand to take in their frame. Alive. Knowing. Divas. (World's Fair, 1964. Conveyor belt. Just a girl riding, past lit marble, heaviness of Christ in the Virgin's arms. Shine of graywhite soul. Who'd dare attack her? She saw la Pieta whole: Holding his dead weight, her knees. Comforted, twice she rode that sidewalk, pocketed blue backdrop and cold stone.) At night the divas go home to St. Albans, where royals live...

Don't Sing, Little Bird

Don't Sing, Little Bird Beth Dwoskin (bio) Feygele was a little girl.She sang of the gentle dusk,Like drizzle in autumn trees."Feygele, hush, don't sing little bird," said her mother."The baby is sleeping.He cries day and night.Please be quiet, for silence is golden." Feygele was a good daughter.She sang of praise and glory,Like a cantor, making cold stone wallsEcho with joy,An exaltation, to honor God."Feygele, hush, don't sing little bird," said her father."We're praying.It is the male bird that sings.You must be still, for silence is holy." [End Page 42] Feygele was a young maiden.She sang of sorrow and yearning,Sitting with the women in the balcony,Chanting prayers of entreatyIn dusty, shadowy corners."Feygele, hush, don't sing little bird," said her grandmother."We're gossiping—we cannot sing.Learn to be mute, for silence is a virtue." Feygele was a new bride.She sang a heavenly songTo the angels welcoming the Sabbath twilightOn a winter night, as the candles gleamedAnd the ruby wine sparkled in silver cups."Feygele, hush, don't sing little bird," said her husband."We're studying Torah, my friends and I.Do not make a sound, for silence is perfect." Feygele was a mother bird,She sang like the thrush in the silver birch,The warbler on the cattail,She cried like the owl in bleak moonlight,As she flew above the fogOver the marsh to her babies in their nest."Mamele, sing," said the babies."We beg you to sing, for we sleep,We pray, we study and learnAt the sound of your voice.Music is life." [End Page 43] Beth Dwoskin Beth Dwoskin is a catalog librarian, wife of a scientist, and mother of three grown children. She lives and works in Ann Arbor, MI. She has written book and CD reviews for the newsletter of the Association of Jewish Libraries and the online journal, Women in Judaism: a multidisciplinary journal. She also wrote the Guide to the Jewish sheet music collection from the National Library of Russia, St. Petersburg. She is doing independent research on the role of women in Jewish vocal music. Copyright © 2009 Bridges Association

Among Wordless Things by Ron Houchin (review)

Ron Houchin. Among Wordless Things. Nicholasville, KY: Wind Publications, 2004. 91 pages. Paperback $14.00. Twentieth-century philosopher Martin Heidegger argued that we find ourselves thrown into an unfathomable, uncaring world; that our quests for the fountain of youth are futile; that we can never hope to understand our existence. Instead, Heidegger insisted, we must clear a path through our cluttered, object-filled world of deadening routines and follow it with passionate conviction, while confronting the certainty of death and the ultimate meaninglessness of life. Ron Houchin is a poet Heidegger would have admired. In Houchin's third collection of poems, he continues his passionate conviction of using poetic language to search for human meaning. In images memorable and lovely, shocking and jarring, Houchin both celebrates and bemoans our humanness, our inadequacies of body and spirit, our inevitable descent into emptiness, our knowledge that "growing up / is the metaphor for death." Among Wordless Things is Houchin's first American publication. His previous works were distributed to American audiences through Salmon Publishing of Ireland. Among Wordless Things is also a prizewinner , garnering the Appalachian Writers Association Book of the Year Award for Poetry in 2005. A retired public high school English teacher, a successful and seasoned wordsmith and journeyman, Ron Houchin brings an unmistakable existential worldview to his poetry. This collection is sustained by themes of despair and alienation rendered in sensory language. The darkest of emblems—shadows, graves, hollow caves, and empty wells—bloom with surprise and desire as Houchin explores an unfathomable world. "The Boy Who Fell Through Howell's Mill" recalls a tragic experience to map the "memory of the taste / of rusting iron / ... the smell of cold stone": Bequeathed to us was the time still ticking in our flesh as we held onto his under ice water, the strangling gargle of falls falling and holding under all that plunged there. 78 The poet's learned lesson is a hard one: "the cold sting of understanding that this / is the way the world is." In "Far End" a cemetery caretaker who had "finished college in English literature / and found no work among the living" spends his days puttering around headstones, "patting and caressing / dull berets of moss, / adjusting gray-white shawls / of lichens, as if on the shoulders / of little marble grandfathers" while black elms in the grave yard continue to grow "out of the dead / like dreams of lost form / or forgotten humanity." When the poet describes Van Gogh's famous "The Night Cafe," the light threatens "to side with darkness any second" and alienation is certain: "everything touches but is isolated" and everyone is ultimately "forever on his own." In "The O's" the poet uses assonant rhyme to restate the precarious human condition: Smoke rings blown out the evening window, losing their form in the night sky, show there's nothing human about the world except the name we give it. The poet chases after meaning in nature, in the human body, in family, in poetry, but finds small comfort and certainly no answers. In "Mattress Sky" the West Virginia landscape is upside down, "thick and gray," and makes "a quilt you turn facedown on / and sleep in keen wakefulness / .. . leaves your face in the open earth / staring all night at constellations / of the dead spinning below." In "The Surgeon Considers the Soul" a skilled physician never finds "the soul at home in the distant / caverns of the brain / or the violent tides of the heart." Perhaps not convinced that the soul doesn't exist, the surgeon decides . . . there's hope that the whole body's a kind of acorn and something will break out once the shell falls, using the dying experience to fertilize the future. Family ties provide little reassurance for the poet either. In "Appalachian Letter" the poet addresses his grandfathers and uncles who are as ominous and foreboding as the heavy clouds crouched "over the hills, hunchbacks / to the mines." And in "Model Fire Building" a young speaker finds escape from his threatening family inside a cave: 79 I played there in the thin darkness and built small fires to keep the big bodies out... . Where some boys built model trains...

Scenes of the Passion of Christ by an anonymous Haarlem painter from around 1470-75

Summary The Esztergom panel of Christ on the Cold Stone surrounded by the Instruments of the Passion, is analysed here in the context of woodcuts from the cercle of the Haarlem painter Jacob Bellaert, and dated between 1465–1470.

IMG (International Medical Graduate)

Ad Libitum1 December 1998IMG (International Medical Graduate)Bhuvana Chandra, MDBhuvana Chandra, MDNorthridge, CA 91326Search for more papers by this authorAuthor, Article, and Disclosure Informationhttps://doi.org/10.7326/0003-4819-129-11_Part_1-199812010-00016 SectionsAboutFull TextPDF ToolsAdd to favoritesDownload CitationsTrack CitationsPermissions ShareFacebookTwitterLinkedInRedditEmail IIn Madras, threadworms crawl out at nighton hospital sheets glazed dun with washing.They wriggle in the middleof rumpled starch-stained cotton,barely visible punctuationsto unread chapters of overwritten lives.Morning light discovers old men furledfever-heated, anopheles-shivered,in bedless pockets of a gorged ward;dreaming a womb's caress of the cold stone floor,warmed by thoughts of noonand the trays with lentil soup.At three in the humid afternoon,the Injection O.P. is full. A curving brown ribbontwirls out its double doors;goose-stepped rows of nude upper arms,sacrificial lambs bereft of all fat,... Author, Article, and Disclosure InformationAffiliations: Northridge, CA 91326Corresponding Author: Bhuvana Chandra, MD, PO Box 7694, Northridge, CA 91327. Previousarticle Advertisement FiguresReferencesRelatedDetails Metrics 1 December 1998Volume 129, Issue 11_Part_1Page: 911-912KeywordsLungsMultiple sclerosisMyocardial infarctionNursing homesParasitologySleepThoraxTongueUlcersVeins Issue Published: 1 December 1998 Copyright & PermissionsCopyright © 1998 by American College of Physicians. All Rights Reserved.PDF downloadLoading ...

The Turning of the Year: (Part IV of a Novella)

FICTION The Turning of the Year (Part IV of a Novella) Gurney Norman 22. Through her kitchen window Aunt Mag sees Wade walking across the yard to greet Howard and Betsy. Behind them she sees Wade playing in that same yard when he was a boy. And herself, when she was a child, playing in that same yard. She sees her mother hanging clothes on the line next to the washhouse. She sees her father coming out of the barn carrying a zinc bucket half-filled with milk he has just taken from the cow. When the cats meet him at the corner of the washhouse, her father pours them a dash of milk in the wooden bowl in the grass at the base of the pawpaw tree. She sees her husband and some of the neighbor men pitching horseshoes by the chopping block. Nearby is the coal pile, where Mag herself at the age of seven is filling a bucket with small lumps for the morning fire in the cookstove in the kitchen. Mag sees her grandparents, her mother's people, old Frank and Juliette, walking up the lane in their Sunday clothes. She sees her brother Bob pulling an engine out of his Ford car with a block and tackle mounted on a tripod made of logs. She sees her mother and father sitting under the silver maple in the yard, stringing beans and talking quietly. Then she sees a large group ofwell-dressed people, solemnly walking across the yard toward her house. They enter her house and gather around the bed where Mag lies silent and still. Mag's eyes are closed but she sees them looking down at her form. Their separate stories converge in Mag's thinking as she says you are your own descendants, and so am I, swimming in water, falling through air. As Wade shakes hands with Betsy, Mag feels the spark between them. "We've come to get our Christmas trees, Wade," Howard says heartily . "Have you got any left?" Gurney Norman is a writerfrom Hazard, Kentucky. This is thefinal installment of his novella. "Aw, there might be a thousand or two out yonder in the grove," Wade answers. Mag watches Wade lead the visitors through the woods to the pine grove where he has marked two trees about seven feet tall. Howard and Wade slide the crosscut saw back and forth until the first tree falls. Betsy takes Howard's place with the saw and helps Wade move it back and forth through the soft pine wood until the second tree is cut. Howard carries his tree on his shoulder. Betsy and Wade carry hers together through the woods back to their station wagon at the edge of the yard. "Did you get you some trees?" Mag asks as she shakes hands first with Betsy and then with Howard. "Oh yes," says Howard. "Wade picked us two real pretty ones." "Mom and Dad planted them trees while I was off in the army," says Wade. "Mom used to sell 'em, back when she was young." "I did a lot when I was young," Mag laughs. "Can't do much anymore ." "Sure you can," says Wade. "Come on outside, breathe this good air. It's real pretty today." Mag pretends to resist but actually she is glad ofthe invitation. Wade drapes his heavy coat around his mother's shoulders and helps her out the door and down the cold stone steps. "Whoop!" says Mag with a big grin on her ancient face. "It's sweet, all right!" Her expression is so alive with delight in being outside in the weather, Howard and Betsy and Wade all notice it and trade grins and glances in appreciation. "You show Betsy around, Wade," Mag says as she starts back up the steps. Howard helps her inside as Wade and Betsy walk out across the yard toward the fence and the field beyond. "So how's your woman, Howard?" Aunt Mag asks when they have seated themselves in the living room before the fire. "What's her name?" "Judy. She's fine. She works, you know. She's pretty busy these days." "Well, I hope...

The artist and the underworld: Bosman'sCold Stone Jug

(1992). The artist and the underworld: Bosman's Cold Stone Jug. English Academy Review: Vol. 9, No. 1, pp. 56-66.

Bakhtin's “carnivalesque” and Bosman'sCold Stone Jug

Summary This paper applies Bakhtin's views on the carnival world‐view as a problem of the poetics of genre to Bosman's Cold Stone Jug. The book's combination of the serious and the comic testifies not to the author's “idiosyncrasy”, but to his adherence to a well established European cultural tradition.

Charles Francis Adams: 1807-1886 (review)

336CIVIL WA B HISTOBY Although the book is well written and is very readable, it should be noted that it is more a biography of Colonel Henry Pleasants, with emphasis on his very important part in the planning and construction of the mine, than a study of the "inferno at Petersburg." Readability is not enough. It suffers from a malady which is prevalent in Civil War books now being published: a lack of research in depth. The authors did not go deep enough into the facts of the story surrounding the Crater. Their surface mining is adequate for some; however, it does not present the true and complete picture. A great deal more could have been told from both sides. From a letter dated July 12, 1864, we know tiie Confederates were countermining. They had extended two mines from Pegram's Battery, which passed on either side of the Union mine. When the mine exploded, it destroyed Pegram No. 1 but did not destroy Pegram No. 2. No mention is made of Sergeant A. H. Smyth, who was in charge of a Confederate detail down in Pegram No. 2 when the mine exploded. The sergeant and his men lived to report the effects of the blast. The authors do not deal with the aftermath of the Crater. They fail to mention either the Confederate efforts to locate the Union tunnel on the east edge of the Crater or the Confederate effort to set off a charge in their mine at Gracie's Salient on August 1. Ironically enough, the mine was charged but failed to go off because three of the four fuses went out, and the fourth was defective. The testimony before the Committee on the Conduct of the War was not effectively used, while much information in the Official Records was neglected. This book is basically a revised edition of The Tragedy of the Crater by Henry Pleasants, Jr., published in 1938. With tiie exception that it contains a more detailed biography of Colonel Pleasants, and some academic interrogation as to red tape and the army high command, the main portion of this book is generally the same information that appears in the earlier volume. It adds nothing new to the current literature on the Crater. LOUIS H. MANARIN North Carolina Confederate Centennial Commission Charles Francis Adams: 1807-1886. By Martin B. Duberman. (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Co. Pp. 525. $7.50. ) Professor Duberman sets die tone of his biography, Charles Francis Adams: 1807-1886, in the first sentence of a rather unfortunate introduction. His subject, he writes, "was not the sort of man who easily enlisted loyalties or engaged the affections." For almost 400 pages of text the apthor drives this point home. Adams is constantiy represented as a man "reserved and austere . . . having littie charm or magnetism"; he is "cold, fastidious . . . [with] aloof, formal manners"; he lacks originality, is narrow, complacent, conservative, and introverted; and he lives comfortably in "almost monotonous adherence to society's conventions." A conscientious man, a man of stem integrity, impersonal candor and solid convictions, is Dr. Duberman's Adams; but he is Book Reviews337 also inescapably a bore, with an intellect more ponderous than imaginative. His achievements stemmed more from the honest and strenuous application of a superbly balanced mind to a succession of limited problems than from innate characteristics of brilliance and vision. This image of Adams as a character etched in cold stone is the traditional one, and here it is reproduced faithfully; but like many images it is largely a myth. Adams was in fact essentially human, a man with a full quota of passions and prejudices and deep perceptions who developed an iron selfcontrol only through constant inward struggle. He had periods of mental torment and deep despair, as anyone who will read his diary and personal correspondence for the period of the Trent affair can readily ascertain. Genuine humor, usually acerbic, occasionally broke through a studied reserve into his conversations and writings. He was not at all a placid man but had a temper easily roused; he was as capable of sustaining antagonisms as of grimly and mercilessly prosecuting them. Although his joyous moments were never boisterously...

Rebellion in Missouri: 1861 (review)

Book Reviews337 also inescapably a bore, with an intellect more ponderous than imaginative. His achievements stemmed more from the honest and strenuous application of a superbly balanced mind to a succession of limited problems than from innate characteristics of brilliance and vision. This image of Adams as a character etched in cold stone is the traditional one, and here it is reproduced faithfully; but like many images it is largely a myth. Adams was in fact essentially human, a man with a full quota of passions and prejudices and deep perceptions who developed an iron selfcontrol only through constant inward struggle. He had periods of mental torment and deep despair, as anyone who will read his diary and personal correspondence for the period of the Trent affair can readily ascertain. Genuine humor, usually acerbic, occasionally broke through a studied reserve into his conversations and writings. He was not at all a placid man but had a temper easily roused; he was as capable of sustaining antagonisms as of grimly and mercilessly prosecuting them. Although his joyous moments were never boisterously manifested, he did on occasion experience profound elation . As for his shallowness, one has only to read his incisive analyses of European politics in the form of periodic reports to the Secretary of State during his London mission and place these reports against die background of subsequent developments in European history to become persuaded of his vision and mental acumen. That Dr. Duberman has failed to catch the essence of Adam's personality in this, the first full-length scholarly biography ever published about this son and grandson of American presidents, is the book's chief fault. Its virtues, however, are many: solid and extensive research combines with judicious selection and careful analysis to give die volume distinction and character as history. The book is written with restraint and simplicity, but not always with tiie clarity one might expect of one who had lived for several years in close proximity to the Adams style. For an Adams to have written the jargon found at the top of page 267, for example, would be almost unbelievable. Verdict: a thorough and eminentiy serviceable biography of a notable American. Norman B. Ferris University of Southwestern Louisiana Rebellionin Missouri: 1861. By Hans ChristianAdamson. (Philadelphia: The Chilton Co., 1961. Pp. xix, 305. $5.00.) "Rebellion in Missouri: 1861" is tiie third and best story of an American hero, General Nathaniel Lyon. The others were eulogistic, written in the stilted and artificial speech of the 1860's, and unobtainable. In this new treatment Colonel Adamson, who directed the writing of all the humaninterest history of the Army Air Forces in World War II, ably presents Lyon as a daring political and military leader in Missouri during the first months of die Civil War. His political leadership is courageous, his miUtary leadership is reckless, albeit brave and effective. 338civil wa ß history Less tiian three months elapsed from tiie time Lyon seized the initiative in St. Louis until he sacrificed himself in battle. The climax to that whirlwind campaign came on August 10, 1861. The scene was the crest of a scrub oak hill, twelve miles southwest of Springfield, overlooking Wilson's Creek, a tributary of the James Branch of White River. Here Lyon elected to play the role of a captain of infantry and to throw away his life for the cause he espoused. The Confederate forces possessed the field after the battle and owned a victory; however, despite General Sterling Price's strong prodding, General Benjamin McCulloch refused to follow up and the Southern advantage frittered away. Lyon's efforts in Missouri were significant to the outcome of the war. He secured to the Union the important river city of St. Louis and its arsenal, relieved tiie state capital at Jefferson City of secessionist Governor Claiborne Jackson and the pro-Southern legislature, insured the navigability of the Mississippi, Ohio, and Upper Mississippi rivers, and kept the faith with loyal Union citizens in the West. Although Lyon's actions ultimately retained Missouri in the Union, his death at Wilson's Creek bore heavily on the conscience of the Lincoln government . Congress went so far as to pass...