"Alberto Sandoval-Sanchez is among the most interesting and original minds at work in performance studies and American studies. José, Can You See? is a landmark achievement, an important contribution to 20th century American cultural history. Quite simply, there is no other critic of Latino popular culture who speaks with so much wisdom and wit, so much eloquence and expertise."--David Roman, University of Southern California
“Olivarez steps into the ‘inbetween’ standing between Mexico and America in these compelling, emotional poems. Written with humor and sincerity” (Newsweek). Named a Best Book of the Year by Newsweek and NPR. In this “devastating debut” (Publishers Weekly), poet José Olivarez explores the stories, contradictions, joys, and sorrows that embody life in the spaces between Mexico and America. He paints vivid portraits of good kids, bad kids, families clinging to hope, life after the steel mills, gentrifying barrios, and everything in between. Drawing on the rich traditions of Latinx and Chicago writers like Sandra Cisneros and Gwendolyn Brooks, Olivarez creates a home out of life in the in-between. Combining wry humor with potent emotional force, Olivarez takes on complex issues of race, ethnicity, gender, class, and immigration using an everyday language that invites the reader in, with a unique voice that makes him a poet to watch. “The son of Mexican immigrants, Olivarez celebrates his Mexican-American identity and examines how those two sides conflict in a striking collection of poems.” —USA Today
These essays bring home the most challenging observations of postmodernism-multiple identities, the fragility of meaning, the risks of communication. Sommer asserts that many people normally live-that is, think, feel, create, reason, persuade, laugh-in more than one language. She claims that traditional scholarship (aesthetics; language and philosophy; psychoanalysis, and politics) cannot see or hear more than one language at a time. The goal of these essays is to create a new field: bilingual arts & aesthetics which examine the aesthetic product produced by bilingual diasporic communities. The focus of this volume is the Americas, but examples and theoretical proposals come from Europe as well. In both areas, the issue offers another level of complexity to the migrant and cosmopolitan character of local societies in a global economy.
A New York Times Editors' Choice The fascinating story of America’s national anthem and an examination of its powerful meaning today. Most Americans learn the tale in elementary school: During the War of 1812, Francis Scott Key witnessed the daylong bombardment of Baltimore’s Fort McHenry by British navy ships; seeing the Stars and Stripes still flying proudly at first light, he was inspired to pen his famous lyric. What Americans don’t know is the story of how this everyday “broadside ballad,” one of thousands of such topical songs that captured the events and emotions of early American life, rose to become the nation’s one and only anthem and today’s magnet for controversy. In O Say Can You Hear? Mark Clague brilliantly weaves together the stories of the song and the nation it represents. Examining the origins of both text and music, alternate lyrics and translations, and the song’s use in sports, at times of war, and for political protest, he argues that the anthem’s meaning reflects—and is reflected by—the nation’s quest to become a more perfect union. From victory song to hymn of sacrifice and vehicle for protest, the story of Key’s song is the story of America itself. Each chapter in the book explores a different facet of the anthem’s story. In one, we learn the real history behind the singing of the anthem at sporting events; in another, Clague explores Key’s complicated relationship with slavery and its repercussions today. An entire is chapter devoted to some of the most famous performances of the anthem, from Jimi Hendrix at Woodstock to Roseanne Barr at a baseball game to the iconic Whitney Houston version from the 1991 Super Bowl. At every turn, the book goes beyond the events to explore the song’s resonance and meaning. From its first lines Key’s lyric poses questions: “O say can you see?” “Does that banner yet wave?” Likewise, Clague’s O Say Can You Hear? raises important questions about the banner; what it meant in 1814, what it means to us today, and why it matters.
Sacred Heart is a Catholic school run by the Benedictine Priests. These priests were strict in teaching and in discipline. Frank should know. This was his school, his neighborhood some twenty years ago. Frank, aka “Teach” returns to his tough New Jersey neighborhood roots, where his best friend is now an organized crime boss. Things also become complicated when a local gang leader stalks one of his students while the game of ice hockey becomes a matter of life and death.
Using a time-travel gadget, 12-year-old Bethany, her sometimes wacky angel friend Gabriel, and their dog Oba zap through the Holy Land to find Moses as they experience a wild journey of trials, contests, rescue operations, and miracles.
Set in New Mexico, Arizona, Colorado, and northern Mexico, this timeless material offers lessons about life and how to triumph over its hardships: from making a bargain with the devil to gaining peace through true love; from dealing with inexplicable, even supernatural events to accepting special gifts that transform pain into joy; and from overcoming jealousy, anger, or stinginess to accepting others just as they are."--BOOK JACKET.
"The Broadway Body I lied about my height on my résumé the entire time I was a dancer, though in truth I don't think the extra inch ever actually made a difference. In the US, 5'6" still reads as short for a man no matter how you slice it. The reason for my deception was that height was often the reason I was disqualified: choreographers often wanted taller male dancers for the ensemble and listed a minimum height requirement (often 5'11" and up) in the casting breakdown. Being disqualified before I could even set foot in the audition because I possessed an unchangeable physical characteristic that often made me unemployable in the industry. I was learning an object lesson in Broadway's body politics-and, of course, had I not been a white cisgender nondisabled man, the barriers to employment would have been compounded even further. I wasn't alone in feeling caught in a catch-22. Not being cast because of your appearance, or "type" in industry lingo, is casting's status quo. The casting process openly discriminates based upon appearance. This truism even made its way into a song cut from A Chorus Line (1975) called "Broadway Boogie Woogie," which comically lists all of the reasons one might not be cast: "I'm much too tall, much too short, much too thin/Much too fat, much too young for the role/I sing too high, sing too low, sing too loud." Funny Girl (1964) put it even more bluntly: "If a Girl Isn't Pretty/Like a Miss Atlantic City/She should dump the stage/And try another route"--
