Lumberman Larry Gorman was no respecter of borders — nor of anything else, it seems. From the time he was a young man growing up on Prince Edward Island until his death in Brewer, Maine in 1917. Larry Gorman composed satirical songs about friend and foe, relative and stranger, without fear or favour. This new edition of Sandy Ives's celebrated book features more than 70 of Gorman's songs, 29 with music.
Originally published in 1995. This book’s collection of key essays presents a coherent overview of touchstone statements and issues in the study of Anglo-American popular ballad traditions and suggests ways this panoramic view affords us a look at Euro-American scholarship’s questions, concerns and methods. The study of ballads in English began early in the eighteenth century with Joseph Addison’s discussions which marked the onset of an aesthetic and scholarly interest in popular traditions. Therefore the collection begins with him and then chronologically includes scholars whose views mark pivotal moments which taken together tell a story that does not emerge through an examination of the ballads themselves. The book addresses debates in tradition, orality, performance and community as well as national genealogies and connections to contexts. Each selected piece is pre-empted by an introductory section on its importance and relevance.
Like many other folklorists of his time, the author started out as a folksinger--guitar, levis, and all--but it wasn't long before his folksinging led him to folksong collecting. This book is a record of that collecting in Prince Edward Island, starting with his memorable trip up the Western Road in 1957, accompanied by the legendary "Big Jim" Pendergast. Based on his journals, field recordings (fourteen of which are included on an accompanying CD), and a prodigious memory, the author has reconstructed those visits to Prince Edward Island. This book is not only a collection of folksongs from Canada's smallest province, but also an account of the people he met and the adventures he had along the way. Part social history, part memoir, this book explores a traditional culture on the cusp of dramatic change.
ÊThis was the first time Wade had been inside the doors of ÒCastle Cut ÕEm,Ó the name the humorists of Stillwater had given the dominating block on the main street of the little city. The up-country men, with the bitterness of experience, and moved by somewhat fantastic imaginings, said it was ÒKing SpruceÕs castle.Ó In the north woods one heard men talk of King Spruce as though this potentate were a real and vital personality. To be sure, his power was real, and power is the principal manifestation of the tyrant who is incarnate. Invisibility usually makes the tyranny more potent. King Spruce, vast association of timber interests, was visible only through the affairs of his court administered by his officers to whom power had been delegated. And, viewed by what he exacted and performed, King Spruce lived and reignedÑstill lives and reigns. Wade, not wholly at ease in the presence, for he had come with a petition like the others, gazed about the reception-room of the Umcolcus Lumbering and Log-driving Association, the incorporatorsÕ more decorous title for King Spruce. It occurred to him that the wall-adornments were not reassuring. A brightly polished circular-saw hung between two windows. It was crossed by two axes, and a double-handled saw was the base for this suggestive coat of arms. The framed photographs displayed loaded log-sleds and piles of logs heaped at landings and similar portraiture of destruction in the woods. Everything seemed to accentuate the dominion of the edge of steel. The other wall-decorations were the heads of moose and deer, further suggestion of slaughter in the forest. A stuffed porcupine on the mantel above the great fireplace mutely suggested that the timber-owners would brook no rivalry in their campaign against the forest; they had asked the State to offer a bounty for the slaughter of this tree-girdler, and a card propped against the Òquill-pigÓ instructed the reader that the State had already spent more than fifty thousand dollars in bounties.
""Excellent."" -- The Reader's Review ""Anybody contemplating the study and pursuit of folklore... will benefit from reading this presentation thoroughly to determine your place in this most exciting scholastic world."" -- Come-All-Ye This is the most complete and up-to-date study of folklore and folklore methodologies available. The authors describe the pervasiveness of folklore, including its uses in literature, films, television, cartoons, comic strips, advertising, and other media in a variety of cultures.
The young man on his way to "Castle Cut 'Em" was a clean-cut picture of self-reliant youth. But he was not walking as one who goes to a welcome task. He saw two men ahead of him who walked with as little display of eagerness; men whose shoulders were stooped and whose hands swung listlessly as do hands that are astonished at finding themselves idle. The young man, with the memory of his college classics sufficiently fresh to make him fanciful, found suggestion of chained monsters in the aspect of those shrieking mills, with slip-openings like huge mouths. That same imagery invested the big building on the hill with attributes that were not reassuring. But he went on up the street in the sunshine, his eyes on the broad backs of the plodders ahead. King Spruce was in official session. Men who were big, men who were brawny, yet meek and apologetic, were daily climbing the hill or waiting in the big building to have word with the Honorable John Davis Barrett, who was King Spruce's high chamberlain. Dwight Wade found half a dozen ahead of him when he came into the general office. They sat, balancing their hats on their knees, and each face wore the anxious expectancy that characterized those who waited to see John Barrett. Wade had lived long enough in Stillwater to know the type of men who came to the throne-room of King Spruce in midsummer. These were stumpage buyers from the north woods, down to make another season's contract with the lord of a million acres of timber land. Their faces were brown, their hands were knotted, and when one, in his turn, went into the inner office he moved awkwardly across the level tiles, as though he missed the familiar inequalities of the forest's floor.
Traditional songs from the Catskill area of New York State are accompanied by detailed discusssions of their roots, development, musical structure, and subject matter
Three prominent folklorists wrote these essays in the 1970s about Dorrance Weir of upstate New York and his song "Take that Night Train to Selma," Joe Scott of Maine and his song "The Plain Golden Band," and Paul Hall of Newfoundland and "The Bachelor's Song."
