"Brian Craig Miller provides medical history of the procedure, looks at men who rejected amputation, and examines how Southern men and women adjusted their ideas about honor, masculinity, and love in response to the presence of large numbers of amputees during and after the war. While some historians have explored the lives of the wounded, disabled and amputated soldiers throughout the major military conflicts of the twentieth century, few monographs have returned to a time when medical care remained primitive at best in American history: the Civil War... In his travels in the South over the past five years, Miller has combed through archives, producing a wealth of surgical and medical manuals, hospital records, surgeons reports, diary, letter and journal entries pertaining to amputation, legislative records, pension files and applications, newspaper reports and numerous anecdotes about what it means to lose a limb."--Provided by publisher.
Dr. Judah Folkman is considered the "father of angiogenesis." Because of Folkman's discovery and research, the possibilities of angiogenic therapy have broadened beyond cancer to many noncancerous diseases. Angiogenesis: An Integrative Approach from Science to Medicine is a comprehensive, concise summary of tumor angiogenesis. It is an up-to-date and authoritative reference for the angiogenesis field as it relates to oncology. This book represents the first collection in a volume of which Folkman is co-editor. Folkman has authored nearly 400 original papers and more than 100 book chapters.
During the Civil War, cities, houses, forests, and soldiers' bodies were transformed into “dead heaps of ruins,” novel sights in the southern landscape. How did this happen, and why? And what did Americans—northern and southern, black and white, male and female—make of this proliferation of ruins? Ruin Nation is the first book to bring together environmental and cultural histories to consider the evocative power of ruination as an imagined state, an act of destruction, and a process of change. Megan Kate Nelson examines the narratives and images that Americans produced as they confronted the war's destructiveness. Architectural ruins—cities and houses—dominated the stories that soldiers and civilians told about the “savage” behavior of men and the invasions of domestic privacy. The ruins of living things—trees and bodies—also provoked discussion and debate. People who witnessed forests and men being blown apart were plagued by anxieties about the impact of wartime technologies on nature and on individual identities. The obliteration of cities, houses, trees, and men was a shared experience. Nelson shows that this is one of the ironies of the war's ruination—in a time of the most extreme national divisiveness people found common ground as they considered the war's costs. And yet, very few of these ruins still exist, suggesting that the destructive practices that dominated the experiences of Americans during the Civil War have been erased from our national consciousness.
This first extended study of Derek Walcott's Tiepolo's Hound (2000) defines the book as the culmination of the poetry and poetic of the Caribbean writer and Nobel Prize winner. In this long poem, Walcott achieves three goals pursued throughout his career: to develop an original Caribbean aesthetic; to meld the modes of poetry and prose; and to formulate the Bildung of the island-artist in terms of an 'autobiographical' narrative. The analysis provides an aesthetic and cultural evaluation of the poem, in terms both of the Western poetic tradition to which it refers through its rich intertextuality and of its significance as a postcolonial milestone. The commentary locates Walcott in an aesthetic tradition running from Emerson through the American Pragmatists to modernist poets; describes his experimental use of certain central narrative strategies in his semi-autobiographical long poems, which is compared to those of another, openly admired, bilingual writer, Vladimir Nabokov; explores Walcott's revision of the epic mode and of the genre of autobiography; delineates his unfolding of a post-Romantic internalization of the poet's Arthurian quest; and discusses his complex treatment of the multi-layered metaphor of light as major evidence of the maturity of his style and poetic, with their conscious cross-fertilization between the literary cultures of Europe and the Caribbean. An appendix to this study contains the transcriptions of various 'Walcott events' that took place in Italy in the summers of 2000 and 2001, including a creative writing seminar, a press conference, and readings. This extensive material opens a window onto Walcott's gifts as a teacher, to his stringent yet passionate commitment to the art of poetry, and to the ways in which he and his students grapple with the challenges of literary translation.
"Everything and nothing is sacred in Rebecca Brown's essays. Tongue, word, thought, and intellect all conspire in a free language love of living history, divination, sex, solitude and amusement. She is America's only real rock 'n' roll schoolteacher. Lessons layered with profundity and protracted parallels. Where old world religion, Gertrude Stein and Oreo cookies co-exist in an actual and mystic world of wonder."—Thurston Moore, Sonic Youth "If Rebecca Brown's talent for prose were any tighter, it would be a lyric—to a pop standard. An homage—a menage—to America, exposing what's laid bare in a comic tragic redux. I laughed till it hurt."—Van Dyke Parks, Composer/Arranger "Anyone who can get from the Eucharist, to a Necco Wafer, to the goo beween the Oreo wafers, to the Inquisition, to the goo between the legs of excited young women is a distant sibling of mine. She can dash and she can drift and she is not much interested in the really bad parts that might qualify as confession. She likes the float of quotidian living and I like to read the words upon which she floats."—Dave Hickey, author of Air Guitar The impulse to tell our worst to a bunch of strangers has been fueling American self-hood for 300 years: there's a direct line from the Puritan confession narrative to today's lurid, inescapable exhibitionism. But whose stories are we telling? This collection of mordant, poignant, and playful essays shows Rebecca Brown at the height of her imaginative and intuitive powers. A wry, incisive social and literary critique is couched in a gonzo mix of pop culture, autobiography, fiction, literary history, misremembered movie plots, and fantasy that plays with the notion of what it is to be “American.” Fantastical connections and unlikely meetings span the course of America’s cultural history in a manic remix, featuring appearances by Brian Wilson, Gertrude Stein, Nathaniel Hawthorne, the Invisible Man, the Abligensian Crusade, John Wayne, Felix Mendelssohn, JFK, Shane, and God. Rebecca Brown’s books include The Gifts of the Body, The Last Time I Saw You, The Haunted House, Terrible Girls, and The End of Youth.
In The Scars We Carve: Bodies and Wounds in Civil War Print Culture, Allison M. Johnson considers the ubiquitous images of bodies—white and black, male and female, soldier and civilian—that appear throughout newspapers, lithographs, poems, and other texts circulated during and in the decades immediately following the Civil War. Rather than dwelling on the work of well-known authors, The Scars We Carve uncovers a powerful archive of Civil War–era print culture in which the individual body and its component parts, marked by violence or imbued with rhetorical power, testify to the horrors of war and the lasting impact of the internecine conflict. The Civil War brought about vast changes to the nation’s political, social, racial, and gender identities, and Johnson argues that print culture conveyed these changes to readers through depictions of nonnormative bodies. She focuses on images portrayed in the pages of newspapers and journals, in the left-handed writing of recent amputees who participated in penmanship contests, and in the accounts of anonymous poets and storytellers. Johnson reveals how allegories of the feminine body as a representation of liberty and the nation carved out a place for women in public and political realms, while depictions of slaves and black soldiers justified black manhood and citizenship in the midst of sectional crisis. By highlighting the extent to which the violence of the conflict marked the physical experience of American citizens, as well as the geographic and symbolic bodies of the republic, The Scars We Carve diverges from narratives of the Civil War that stress ideological abstraction, showing instead that the era’s print culture contains a literary and visual record of the war that is embodied and individualized.
