“The diversity of voices and songs reminds us that the home front and the battlefront are always connected and that music and war are deeply intertwined.” —Heather Marie Stur, author of 21 Days to Baghdad For a Kentucky rifleman who spent his tour trudging through Vietnam’s Central Highlands, it was Nancy Sinatra’s “These Boots Are Made for Walkin’.” For a black marine distraught over the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr., it was Aretha Franklin’s “Chain of Fools.” And for countless other Vietnam vets, it was “I Feel Like I’m Fixin’ to Die” or the song that gives this book its title. In We Gotta Get Out of This Place, Doug Bradley and Craig Werner place popular music at the heart of the American experience in Vietnam. They explore how and why U.S. troops turned to music as a way of connecting to each other and the World back home and of coping with the complexities of the war they had been sent to fight. They also demonstrate that music was important for every group of Vietnam veterans—black and white, Latino and Native American, men and women, officers and “grunts”—whose personal reflections drive the book’s narrative. Many of the voices are those of ordinary soldiers, airmen, seamen, and marines. But there are also “solo” pieces by veterans whose writings have shaped our understanding of the war—Karl Marlantes, Alfredo Vea, Yusef Komunyakaa, Bill Ehrhart, Arthur Flowers—as well as songwriters and performers whose music influenced soldiers’ lives, including Eric Burdon, James Brown, Bruce Springsteen, Country Joe McDonald, and John Fogerty. Together their testimony taps into memories—individual and cultural—that capture a central if often overlooked component of the American war in Vietnam.
Zabala is back, and this time with a punch. War Songs is honest, invigorating, and shameless. With elegant watercolor illustrations, this collection of poetry manages to be both empowering yet fragile as it weaves through the delicate journey of a young woman's self-discovery. On your darkest days, this book will crack the spine and leave you singing.
Pembroke. August 4, 1914. On a verandah in town four young people anxiously await news that will change irrevocably the course of their lives. A fifth arrives, out of breath, with the latest bulletin from the telegraph office. War has been declared – and it is their war. At the age of ninety, Grace Craig looks back to her youth and tells the story of the impact of the Great War on her family and friends. Letters from the young men on the Western Front are interwoven with her own memories of the war. Her brother Basil, youngest officer in the No. 1 Canadian Tunnelling Company, fights underground driving mineshafts deep below the tortured earth of no man's land; later, as an observer in the Royal Flying Corps, he flies above the enemy lines amidst the bursting shells. His older brother Ramsey, a lieutenant in the 38th Battalion, fights in the constant mud on the ground, and must lead his men 'over the top' in the face of enemy fire. At home their sister knits socks and scarves, packs boxes to be sent overseas, serves vast quantities of apple pie and ice cream in the canteen at nearby Camp Petawa, and leads the assembled troops in stirring war songs. In November 1916 she braves the U boats and the North Atlantic to spend time with her brothers while they are on leave in England. Divided by danger and distance, letters alone allowed contact. The soldiers yearned for everyday news of home; and in Pembroke one waited for, and kept forever, those precious scraps of paper from beyond the sea. But This is Our War is a moving, absorbing document of young Canadians at war.
Explores a little-known history of exchange between Anishinaabe and American writers, showing how literature has long been an important venue for debates over settler colonial policy and indigenous rights. For the Anishinaabegthe indigenous peoples of the Great Lakesliterary writing has long been an important means of asserting their continued existence as a nation, with its own culture, history, and sovereignty. At the same time, literature has also offered American writers a way to make the Anishinaabe Nation disappear, often by relegating it to a distant past. In this book, Adam Spry puts these two traditions in conversation with one another, showing how novels, poetry, and drama have been the ground upon which Anishinaabeg and Americans have clashed as representatives of two nations contentiously occupying the same land. Focusing on moments of contact, appropriation, and exchange,Spry examines a diverse range of texts in order to reveal a complex historical network of Native and non-Native writers who read and adapted each others work across the boundaries of nation, culture, and time. By reconceiving the relationship between the United States and the Anishinaabeg as one of transnational exchange, Our War Paint Is Writers Ink offers a new methodology for the study of Native American literatures, capable of addressing a long history of mutual cultural influence while simultaneously arguing for the legitimacy, and continued necessity, of indigenous nationhood. In addition, the author reexamines several critical assumptionsabout authenticity, identity, and nationhood itselfthat have become common wisdom in both Native American and US literary studies.