Scraps Of Paper Research Articles

Digging Rutabagas

Digging Rutabagas Digging rutabagas in autumn, earthy, tart, a cold crop—they tasted good with horseradish spread, my uncle told me. I feared I wouldn't like sandwiches made of rutabagas, but I didn't say that. Instead, I asked him why he put forked sticks between the apple branches. Paperhanger during the days, my uncle knew the town's houses intimately by their wall colors and patterns. He moved among the owners' narrow lives with a lover's tenderness. He gave me his paper scraps, flocks, stripes, chintzes, for a dollhouse I'd made from a cardboard box. Sometimes I pretended the box was my own house, and in that house of scraps my mother and father laughed and touched. When I was thirteen I wanted to know things I couldn't find in books (not even my biology text) so I watched him often— he wasn't married like all the other grownups. 233 When I peered from my stair window late at night, I saw his lamp burning. Up reading Playboy, the neighbors gossiped— or is that what I remember they said? It's been so long. Years afterward, writing a sonnet to someone I had lost, I made myself a rutabaga sandwich. It left a bitter taste that wouldn't go away. Susan Elizabeth Gunter Westminster College ofSalt Lake City 234 ...

Seeing Black: Alessandro Manzoni between Fiction and History

On the 26th of June, 1630, a Milanese barber, Giangiacomo Mora, was arrested on charges of conspiracy to spread plague through his already-ravaged city, and his house and yard were searched for evidence. He was not told what the charges were. Among his papers, the police found one that appeared to be a recipe, which, when handed to him, he immediately tore up-thinking, as Alessandro Manzoni writes in his Storia della colonna infame, that it was for illegally manufacturing and selling an ointment against the plague that they were arresting him. The police gathered and held on to the scraps of paper. These scraps were brought out during his second interrogation, and Mora suggested then that the police reassemble the pieces so that he could see what was written there and remember who had given the paper to him, and why. The investigatingjudges said nothing, but went on to other questions. Some days later, looking for plausible grounds to justify their torture of him, they recalled Mora's failure to explain why he had torn up the paper-he insisted that he had done it unthinkingly, that he had not thought it important-and this failure was, in the end, found suspect enough to warrant the application of pain. Yet neither then nor later did the investigators themselves bother to reassemble the evidence they held.

A spatial statistical analysis of a work of art:did hans arp make a "truly random" collage?

The naner demonstrates the use of statistical methods for marked roint processes for analysing a particular spatial pattern. That is a collage of paper scraps made by Hans Arp who aimed to construct a random pattern, without random numbers or computers. It is shown that the orientation of the scraps can be considered as uniform. The spatial distribution of the scraps is characterized by the pair correlation function of the point pattern of scrap centers. It has a form which is similar to pair correlation functions of structures of a natural origin. Finally, correlations of orientations and sizes of the scraps are studied.

Power, autonomy and Weston's imagery

Abstract Edward Weston (1886–1958) was a photographer, not a philosopher. But Weston had his metaphysical moments, engaging in some heady speculation about the world he photographed. He believed that reality had two distinct dimensions to it, one that was merely physical and perceived by the senses, and a higher, transcendental one that the mind alone understood. This was hardly an original position, and Weston drew heavily from philosophers who had preceded him, notably those 19th-century New England visionaries who came to be known as the Transcendentalists. He kept a collection of short, pithy sayings culled from those on whom he relied, and the words of Transcendentalist Ralph Waldo Emerson occupied a prominent place in the ‘grab bag’ of quotations that Weston copied on to Triscut box tops and other odd scraps of paper.

Teaching Modernity: The PKI as an Educational Institution

When after the coup of October 1, 1965, the masses were permitted to express their wrath by burning down the Indonesian Communist Party headquarters, the army was careful to seize the party's archives first. Indonesian academics were called in to analyze some of these documents, particularly the records of research into village conditions which the party had recently sponsored in Java. One such scholar remarked to me on his great surprise at the level of sophistication of the surveys which rural PKI cadres had supplied to the party. The authors of the reports had clearly been peasants with very little schooling, and their contributions were often penciled on grubby scraps of paper, but they showed genuine analytical ability. How had the Communist party managed to teach peasants to do this? And what did it imply for the future?

Don't Forget the Slow Learner

Annie Jenkin was seriously concerned. Annie-a superb teacher-was worried about Sean, one of the minority sixth grade students in her classroom. Sean seemed to have the capability to learn, but he rarely studied. He could be caught, at almost any time of the day, fooling around with little creatures, drawing on scraps of paper, or grooming himself for the day. Annie was at her wit's end. She had met with the principal a number of times, had repeatedly called Sean's parents, and had had a number of parent conferences. At various times, Annie had talked with Sean privately and had even tried a student contract-all to no avail. Sean just kept drawing and staring off into space.

Access to Southeast Asian Waters by Naval Powers: Some Problems and Ambiguities

The 1982 Convention on the Law of the Sea and the cumulating legal trends since the beginning of the Third United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS III) in 1973, together with economic and political pressures, might create problems for peacetime missions of the naval powers. In the early 1970s some writers saw these trends which would eventually be codified into the Con vention as kind of de facto arms control1 while others discounted the whole thing and said that when vital interests of the naval powers were involved such legal trends and other legal inhibitions would merely become a scrap of paper across the opening of a missile tube.2 Although the major naval powers have not signed, let alone ratified the 1982 Convention, it is generally believed that their naval interest is well served by the 1982 Convention. Some of the agreements in the Convention which are of particular relevance to proponents of naval mobility are: the twelve-mile territorial sea with a right of passage; transit through straits; the valida tion of the archipelagic concept, but including the right of archipelagic sea-lanes passage; and the confirmation of the traditional freedoms on the high seas. An extension of the territorial sea to twelve miles is not ideal from the naval viewpoint because, historically, naval mobility has been served by the doctrine of the freedom of the seas which gives warships unhindered movement outside the narrow limits of the territorial sea, whereas, within territorial seas, the movement of foreign warships and aircraft is governed by the concept of innocent passage. This gives surface warships the right to transit, without prior notification, but innocence requires that the transit is not prejudicial to the peace, good order, or security of the coastal state. Submarines and aircraft are not given the same freedom: does not embrace the right of aircraft overflight or of submerged submarine transit. The aim of the naval powers during UNCLOS III was, therefore, to try to stop the further qualitative and quantitative creep of the territorial sea. The main threat of a creeping territorial sea is the restriction of warship access through straits where had previously been free. Given the strategic importance of free and unimpeded passage through straits, it was a major interest of the naval powers to maintain or even improve upon the rules formulated before UNCLOS HI. At UNCLOS III, the naval powers failed to prevent the extension of the territorial sea to a distance of twelve miles but there was no closing of any inter national straits. This change is more than compensated for by the extension of 208

The Celys and Their World: An English Merchant Family of the Fifteenth Century

From the start of his career as a young woolmerchant, about 1473, George Cely was a hoarder. He kept everything, from important business accounts down to the scrap of paper on which his father had once noted that the brewer and tailor hadn't been paid yet. The result is a rich collection, which not merely documents the Cely family's activities as staplers and ship-owners, but also gives vivid details of their intimate concerns: what they ate and wore, where they lived, how they spent their money - and where they went for loans when the cash ran short - how they amused themselves, and how they coped with trade recessions and political turmoil at home and abroad. This is the first comprehensive study to be based on the material.

The historical notes of Liqä-Ṭäbbäbt Abbä Yeräfu

The elders of North-East Africa have long been renowned for their powers of memory on which their compatriots relied for genealogical lineages, rights of ownership, Procedures of law, marrige customs and the like. Literate of otherwise, they all for the most part imparted their accumulated knowledge by word of mouth. Unlike the griots of West Africa, however, quite a few made use of written documents, at least in the form of notes. These documents are different from and independent of the royal and ecclesiastical records which are well known to scholars. These are private papers intended for personal use and as such contain valuable, Uncensored, historical information. I realized how ubiquitous the practice was during my research travels in the various regions of the Ethiopian Empire during the years 1965–75. Whenever such an informant failed to recall a particular name, date of fact during an interview, of doubted the accuracy of the sequence of his narrative, he would quickly pull out his mnemonic aid from a box under his bed or would call for a family member to hand him the desired item. The mnemonic aid often consisted of scribbled scraps of paper, letters, Photographs, invitation cards to weddings of com memorative feasts. Some possessed thin school notebooks comprising sketches in Amareña, Tegreña of Arabic, sufficient to prompt the memory to produce a fluent narrative. The contents of such a notebook, and indeed a typical one of its kind, consitute the boby of the present article.

Tolstoy’s Lost Childhood

Tolstov's mother died when he was one and a half years old. That Tolsto~ consciouslv considered this an enormous loss is attested to by a r~ference he 'made to her in his last years -and which was preserved even though it was recorded only on a scrap of loose paper. It read: ~~Felt dull and sad all day. Toward evening the mood changed into a desire for caresses, for tenderness. I wanted. as when I was a child. to nestle against some tender and compassionate being and weep with love and be consoled ... become a tiny boy. close to my mother. the way I imagine her. Yes, yes. my Maman, whom I was never able to call that because I did not then know how to talk. She is my highest image of pure love but not cold, divine love. warm, earthly love. maternal ... Maman, hold me, caress me! ... All this is madness. but it is true. (Tolstoy Complete Works, Moscow 1937, vol. 55. p.574) Nevertheless, the significant separation from his mother had already taken place, psychologically speaking, even before the hazily remembered physical loss and must, moreover. have been a necessary and positive preliminary step in a maturation process that would produce not only Lev Tolstoy the adult, but also L.N. Tolstoy the creative writer. The theory explaining the connection the development of identity and creativity has been most visibly put forward by D. W. Winnicott, in his book PlayinK and Realily, (London. Tavistock, 1971) which expands the concepts of the 1953 paper. Objects and Transitional Phenomena. Concerned with the idea oj' how an infant adjusts to the realization that the mother's breast is not forever auto~atically available. that longer and longer periods of separation from the mother must occur. Winnicott suggests that the infant has access to two sources of consolation. One is the infant's own thumb. which he has used ever since he was born~ the other is the special object. usually something soft and cuddly, such as a teddy-bear that the mother later offers the child. and indeed expects him to become addicted to. The intermediate period between the thumb and the teddy-bear' is one characterised by transitional objects and phenomena. for example a corner of a sheet or blanket which is sucked or stroked. or the first babblings which are to lead on the songs and tunes an older child will lull itself to sleep with. The infant does not at this

Suffer the Little Children: Death, Autonomy, and Responsibility in a Changing “Low Technology” Environment

1969 Maria Carmen Guaman Shunaula's angel wings are slightly crooked, but the pleated red and blue bandanas are arranged neatly on the altar behind her along with the candles and the flowers. Sitting on a low wooden bench, the drummer and accordionist play their music while men and women, girls and boys, dance, whirling and stomping on the dirt floor. Jeshuco moves through the crowd with a bottle of contraband aguardiente and a cup, insistently offering a drink, courtesy of taita Manuel to anyone he can corner. He fills the small cup and waits until the recipient drinks, grimaces in response to the undiluted power of the raw cane alcohol, flips the remaining drops on the floor, and hands the cup back with the thanks, God will pay you. All night long there is much laugh ter, drinking, dancing, singing, shouting, and talking. A few people have left the party after having eaten bowls of mutton soup. A few others have passed out, drunk or tired, and are lying-covered with ponchos or blankets-on the floor. Now the sun has long since risen above the edge of the Andes. Maria Carmen is placed into the tiny coffin on the table. Children and adults gather around, placing flower petals and notes on scraps of paper into the coffin. The coffin is closed. The drunk and the asleep are aroused. Four brightly dressed young girls using long woven

New Words for Old

New Words for Old Lu I. Johnson We like things as they are, the hotel business, our errands. At the footbridge, my brother scans for possible customers. Mannie turns left, into the music. Know we'll pass the new shop again. From the fresh sign I find two new words for Papa at supper. Before supper, Papa first goes off with Mannie and teaches him something on the guitar. At the table he tells us about the hotel guests and his business with them. He asks me for new words in English and tells me words the elders used to use, that you'd never just hear. I pick up a fine scrap of drawing paper to give Mannie. He draws on all the paper I find, but he only picks wild fruit for his sack. We pass a man weeping on a stoop. Through the window of the new shop we see the manager. Tight pink dress. Face light as Mama's lighter than mine. Into the long glass counter she puts a glass dog, silver goods, tiny electric lamp, colored music boxes. The last box, orange with black Chinese writing, she sets on the counter, winds it and presses the lever. The music makes me jump. Mannie is surprised, too. He steps to the open door. "Hey you kids, stop your staring there." Kids? We're thirteen, in business, run everyone's errands in the whole hotel. "Here's your hand prints on my window, nose prints. Hick prints. You want me to call the police?" The words: hick. From the sign: rewindable. A woman stops Mannie. "Do you speak English?" He turns to me. I say that I speak most words and read a lot. She gets her instructions on paper and gives us a note. "Take note to heavy man with beard and bald head near beach café. Green swimming trunks. Bring back written answer to me at bench across street." While the bald man writes an answer, we catch sight of the new hotel guest. Papa lets us know if anyone's new. It's a writer staying over at the hotel. I think he must have a book full of lines that aren't yet finished out to the end of the page. Maybe I could get a close look. 56ROCKY MOUNTAIN REVIEW Madeline on the street says she will explain the new words to me later. She's home from boarding school, saving for college. Mannie opens his whole face wide to gape into the new shop. He wants to show them real true staring. "Don't, Mannie, they might have errands some time." "Ame Ne, if we buy one music box, can we hear them all first?" "No, go by real slow and we'll hear them for free." We are all saving except usually Mannie. Papa catches fish for hotel guests who didn't catch any. Then he goes in and cuts hair for them. At night he plays the lounge. Nobody could be more in the hotel business than our family. Papa talks about his dreams. "I have shops for selling fish, cutting hair, for music, all on the street." Mama says, "He takes time away from fishing to walk to your grandparents Sunday. Now we'll go every other week, take turns." Madeline told me the grandparents didn't like Mama. Papa says, "Ame Ne can go to night school, then with her reading and writing be a big help in the hotel business." I tell Mannie to go now. He comes back and dumps the money in a big pile next to Papa. "We're in business too. Take this money for the first shop." Papa can see that we really are in business for ourselves, but he doesn't want to take the money. He tells Mannie if he wants his own guitar, he will soon give him the money. Mama says, "He must play well on your guitar first." At night, I get back the memories from that day under the sounding tree. The leaves specially give them back. The weeping man, the orange box with the music. From the doorway I keep track of the...

New Words for Old

We like things as they are, the hotel business, our errands. At the footbridge, my brother scans for possible customers. Mannie turns left, into the music. Know we'll pass the new shop again. From the fresh sign I find two new words for Papa at supper. Before supper, Papa first goes off with Mannie and teaches him something on the guitar. At the table he tells us about the hotel guests and his business with them. He asks me for new words in English and tells me words the elders used to use, that you'd never just hear. I pick up a fine scrap of drawing paper to give Mannie. He draws on all the paper I find, but he only picks wild fruit for his sack. We pass a man weeping on a stoop. Through the window of the new shop we see the manager. Tight pink dress. Face light as Mama's lighter than mine. Into the long glass counter she puts a glass dog, silver goods, tiny electric lamp, colored music boxes. The last box, orange with black Chinese writing, she sets on the counter, winds it and presses the lever. The music makes me jump. Mannie is surprised, too. He steps to the open door. Hey you kids, stop your staring there. Kids? We're thirteen, in business, run everyone's errands in the whole hotel.

Michelangelo's FlorentineSlavesand the S. Lorenzo Façade

the manner of the reinforcement lines on the verso of A 16. The cartoon for the Crucifixion of Saint Peter is executed in the same sort of dark gray chalk used on the Haarlem drawing. At first Michelangelo expressed volumes in terms of crisp outlines which he smudged only later to indicate the shading. Although from close up, the cartoon seems to possess a delicate sfumato, from far away it is quite precise in its outlines, in keeping with Michelangelo's later style. The cartoon even has one rather noticeable pentimento: to the lower right a lance has been moved about three inches. A 16 verso shows no traces of pouncing or of tracing with a stylus to suggest that it was actually used on a fresco. Of course the portion depicted on the drawing is the portion of Haman's face that his left hand covers on the fresco. Although the economy of lines bespeaks assurance, Michelangelo discarded this portion of the cartoon, unpounced or untraced by a stylus, in favor of one with Haman's hand, and, ironically, this is probably the reason why A 16 verso survived. A pupil may have picked up the forgotten scrap of paper from the artist's studio and written Michelangelo's name. Some later admirers seem to have cut up the sheet to rearrange the loose arm study for Haman and to add the arm study for the Lord in the Creation of Man on the recto, thereby converting A 16 into a true ricordo of Michelangelo.20 The role of this discarded Haman cartoon should not be misunderstood. It is that of a preliminary cartoon, a full-scale working drawing intended for a fresco. It is the head of one of those figures, nine, ten, even twelve heads high, which, as Vasari mentioned, Michelangelo used to draw to increase their grace21 and which helped develop his sense of scale as the painter of the Ceiling. For in the words of Vasari, his friend and devoted admirer: et io ne ho alcuni di sua mano trovati in Fiorenza, messi nel nostro libro de'disegni, dove, ancora che si vegga la grandezza di quello ingegno, si conosce che, quando e'voleva cavar Minerva della testa di Giove, ci bisognava il martello di Vulcano....22 [Yale University New Haven, Connecticut 06520]

Diatomic Molecule Electronic Structure beyond Simple Molecular Constants

AbstractMolecules with partly filled 3d or 4f shells have a surprisingly large number of low lying electronic states, resulting in incredibly complex spectra. This paper attempts to show that, although the spectra are complicated, the explanation of the global electronic structure is quite simple. Ligand Field Theory displays all of the important relationship between the dN or fN structures in the free‐atomic‐ion and the molecule. The splitting of the core into numerous substates causes a gratuitous repetition and intermingling of the usual ϱ, π‐valence structures which are so familiar for molecules with filled‐shell cores. The 4f electron is shown to be a useful probe of the unknown structures of more diffuse valence orbitals. A semi‐empirical theory is described which allows important features of the molecular level diagram to be predicted using atomic energy level tables and a scrap of paper. The same theory provides a basis for detailed numerical parametrization and quantitative predictions of energy levels, perturbation matrix elements, hfs splittings, and transition intensities.

Agua Negra by Leo Romero

Reviews 291 wilderness, the comic who is scared of bears, the introvert who spends three boring days alone in a cabin, and the journalist who discourses on Alaskan land-use policies. Thus, by the last page the reader is not quite sure who wrote the book. Going to Extremes is markedly similar to Coming into the Country (1977), though McGinniss doesn’t acknowledge McPhee in his references. Both writers visit Alaskan cities, bush settlements, and back country. They interview the same people, such as Atwood in Anchorage and Hudson in Talkeetna; McGinniss even goes hiking with Kauffmann of the National Park Service, just as McPhee did. Yet McGinniss’s style lacks the effortless clarity of McPhee’s writing. In the climax, describing a trip to the Brooks Range, he becomes so desper­ ate for words that he quotes from a companion’s journal, in which the mountains are a “symphony in rock,” “soaring crescendos of the peaking spires,” and “violent turbulence of conflicting forces.” McGinniss might have done better without his literary friend’s help. McPhee creates a world of vivid people, ravishing landscape, and bold extremes; McGinniss, however, presents a diluted, fragmented, and not very pleasant picture of Alaska. We meet whores, drunken Eskimos, drugged whites, red-neck oil-workers. There seems to be scarcely a normal, likeable person in the territory. Moreover, Alaska is cold and dark, drab and frightening, plagued by mosquitos and grizzlies. One ends up being uncer­ tain of the author’s intentions. The Book-of-the-Month Club chose Going to Extremes as a Main Selection, perhaps because it is an easy-to-read version of Coming into the Country. It is a much shorter book, and each chapter is titled by geographic place. This book made me appreciate in retrospect McPhee’s more authentic and thoughtful writing. VALERIE P. COHEN, Cedar City, Utah Agua Negra. By Leo Romero. (Boise, ID: Ahsahta Press, 1981. 42 pages, $2.50.) Leo Romero lives in and writes of New Mexico, a place that truly is enchanted. Romero’s poems are filled with detail, mystery, superstition. And authenticity. His poems are of the earth and of the people of the earth and he has sought out the tales of their relationship: I search for a history of this valley but no one wrote it down so I look for anything 292 Western American Literature For a scrap of paper with a few words but I find nothing other than some names and dates written in family bibles I am left to construct a history where there are no written records His work has not been the quest of a stack rat in the archives of a uni­ versity library. His search took place in the mountains of reality and in the badlands of dream and intuition, in the dark nights alone when the wind brought the sounds of a distant flute, invisible footsteps, the tortured breath­ ing of that other, “cautious as a prowling moon” : Far away a bird is calling when it should be asleep and I want to call back I want to speak so all of the night and silence can understand me like this bird, but the moon continues his tales undisturbed I listen, perhaps I will write it down and say, this is how the people lived in the valley, a lying moon and a lonely bird say it all Romero is a good listener, and he has a fine eye. He is an observer who can describe and do it well, and at the same time compose a fine, tough narrative. “What the Gossips Saw” and “Owl” are the products of a story teller who knows how to set his reader/listener up and leave him dangling in the realm of his imagination. He spins a web of image and illusion as well as anybody: he lay in bed dying from cancer I would sit quietly in his room on a chair against the wall His hair was as white as God’s and people would come to ask for his forgiveness It must be remembered that these poems rise from an oral tradition. Romero found his poems just like his wood...

The Identity of Acacia oerfota (Forssk.) Schweinf. (Leguminosae-Mimosoideae)

The earliest collections of Acacia in Arabia were made by Pehr Forsskal in 1763. Forsskal died in the Yemen and his descriptions were published posthumously in the Flora Aegyptiaco-Arabica (1775). Amongst the plants described in that work was Mimosa oerfota Forssk.+ Unfortunately Forsskal's work was largely neglected for the next century and it was not till 1896 that Schweinfurth, (in Bull. Herb. Boiss. 4, app. 2: 213) identified this plant with Acacia nubica Benth. and made the combination A. oerfota (Forssk.) Schweinf. The name A. oerfota (Forssk.) Schweinf. was widely used during the first half of this century for the plant previously known as A. nubica Benth. In 1953, Brenan (Kew Bull. 8: 101-102) realised that the specimen of Mimosa oerfota in the Forsskal herbarium at Copenhagen was not identical with Acacia nubica Benth. As a result the name A. nubica Benth. was again brought into use and A. oerfota (Forssk.) Schweinf. applied to a little known species apparently endemic to Arabia and related to A. seyal Del. My purpose here is to show that the specimen at Copenhagen on which the name A. orfota Schw. is written is not the type of Mimosa oerfota. Forssk. and that Schweinfurth was right to adopt the name A. oerfota (Forssk.) Schweinf. as the correct name for the species currently called A. nubica Benth. Before examining the protologue in detail it is important to explain the circumstances in which Forsskal's collections and descriptions were made. It appears that Forsskal kept lists of all species he saw in the countries he visited and these lists are the basis of the Flora Aegyptiaca, Arabiae Felicis etc. which form the first part of his 'Flora' (1775). These lists give species already described by Linnaeus, species about whose distinctness Forsskal was uncertain (often indicated by the epithet dubia or the presence of a question mark) as well as Forsskal's own new species. The lists are annotated with localities, local names and sometimes short diagnoses. The descriptions of the new species themselves were drawn up in the field and form the main body of the 'Flora'. In addition to the lists and descriptions, Forsskal made field notes of the plants he collected on small scraps of paper and these can often be found gummed on the backs of herbarium sheets in the Forsskal herbarium. These notes were presumably placed loose with the specimens as Forsskal collected them but it is impossible to be certain. The specimens were then sent back to Copenhagen, but many were lost during shipment, so that, according to C. Christensen in Dansk Botanisk Arkiv 4: 1-54 (1922) the specimens of at least

The Republican Presidential Campaigns of 1856 and 1860: Analysis Through Artifacts

THE REPUBLICAN PRESIDENTIAL CAMPAIGNS OF 1856 AND 1860: ANALYSIS THROUGH ARTIFACTS Roger A. Fischer A continuing source of CONTROVERSY among students of early Republican politics has been the degree of difference between the presidential campaigns of John C. Fremont in 1856 and Abraham Lincoln in 1860. Scholars generally agree that the Fremont campaign was essentially a rather shrill, narrowly ideological, single-issue crusade waged by a new coalition that seemed much more eager to condemn slavery in the territories than elect its standard-bearer to the presidency.1 There is general agreement that after 1856, as one historian so aptly expressed it, "Republicans became less issue oriented and more winning oriented."2 Few would deny that the party's selection of Lincoln as its nominee, creation of a multi-issue platform, generally subdued campaign rhetoric, and concentration upon carrying the rather conservative states of the lower North provided evidence of a new pragmatism and professionalism almost altogether lacking in 1856. Consensus dies, however, on the vital question of whether the 1860 Republican campaign represented an actual retreat on the slavery issue or merely a more subtle manifestation of I would like to express my appreciation to the University of MinnesotaGraduate School and to the Department of History of the University of Minnesota, Duluth, for travel funds during the summer of 1979 that made much of this research possible, and to Edmund B. Sullivan, curator of the J. Doyle DeWitt Collection of the University of Hartford, and the staff of the Political History Division of the Smithsonian Institution for numerous courtesies and insights. 1 No really adequate general study of the Fremont campaign has been written, but Eric Foner, Free Soil, Free lAibor, Free Men: The Ideology of the Republican Party Before the Civil War (New York, 1970) provides a superb analysis of the ideological impulse which gave the campaign its essential tenor. Ronald P. Formisano, The Birth of Mass Political Parties: Michigan, 1827-1861 (Princeton, 1971) offers cogent insights into 1856 Republicanism in one key state. Superficial discussions of the campaign as a whole may be found in Ruhl J. Bartlett, John C. Fremont and the Republican Party (Columbus, 1930), pp. 37-69; Allan Nevins, Ordeal of the Union, 2 vols. (New York, 1947), 2:460-514; and Nevins, Fremont : Pathmarker of the West, rev. ed. (New York, 1955), pp. 421-58. 2 Formisano, Birth of Mass Political Parties, p. 277. Civil War History, Vol. XXVII, No. 2 Copyrightß 1981 by The Kent State University Press 0009-8078/81/2701-0002 $01.00/0 124CIVIL WAR HISTORY the old "crime against Kansas" idealism, whether the departure from the 1856 Fremont campaign was fundamental or essentially cosmetic. ' Scholars in both camps have reached their respective positions after painstaking scrutiny of the cumulative verbiage of 1856 and 1860— convention proceedings, party platforms, public and private statements by the candidates, the speeches and correspondence of party leaders, and pronouncements in the key Republican newspapers. None has paid much attention, however, to the physical remains of the two canvasses, especially the ribbons, tokens, handkerchiefs, songsheets, and other objects sold as souvenirs or given out by campaign groups to win votes or cement loyalties and the parade banners, floats, transparencies, and other visuals which helped make the political torchlight parade a hallowed American institution. This is unfortunate, for these scraps of cloth, metal , paper and wood provide outstanding examples of candidate and issue identification at the grassroots level. It is especially unfortunate for those historians who have argued that 1860 represented a fundamental departure from the ideological fervor of 1856, for these artifacts offer clear and convincing evidence to support their interpretation, at least in those crucial northern states where antislavery zeal was far from universal. That these 1856 and 1860 Republican campaign relics have been largely overlooked by scholars is hardly surprising, for political historians have invariably ignored such objects or, at best, utilized them only as decorations or as examples of the colorful, exuberant banality of American electioneering.4 Even among antiquarians and material culturista, they are often referred to as campaign "trivia" or "ephemera." Despite the remarkable success enjoyed by archaeologists in interpreting civilizations through their material remains, students of American politics...

Appendix B: ‘A scrap of paper’

Appendix B: ‘A scrap of paper’

Scientists in Africa

The office is suddenly darkened and quiet. Professor O fashions a fan out of a scrap of paper retrieved from the waste basket beside his desk. The humidity is oppressive. A young man wearing a colorful Nigerian bush shirt enters the office carrying a candle and announces that the University's generator is being repaired.…