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No other region in America is so fraught with projected meaning as Appalachia. Many people who have never set foot in Appalachia have very definite ideas about what the region is like. Whether these assumptions originate with movies like Deliverance (1972) and Coal Miner's Daughter (1980), from Robert F. Kennedy's widely publicized Appalachian Tour, or from tales of hiking the Appalachian Trail, chances are these suppositions serve a purpose to the person who holds them. A person's concept of Appalachia may function to reassure them that there remains an "authentic" America untouched by consumerism, to feel a sense of superiority about their lives and regions, or to confirm the notion that cultural differences must be both appreciated and managed. In Selling Appalachia: Popular Fictions, Imagined Geographies, and Imperial Projects, 1878-2003, Emily Satterwhite explores the complex relationships readers have with texts that portray Appalachia and how these varying receptions have created diverse visions of Appalachia in the national imagination. She argues that words themselves not inherently responsible for creating or destroying Appalachian stereotypes, but rather that readers and their interpretations assign those functions to them. Her study traces the changing visions of Appalachia across the decades from the Gilded Age (1865-1895) to the present and includes texts such as John Fox Jr.'s Trail of the Lonesome Pine (1908), Harriet Arnow's Hunter's Horn (1949), and Silas House's Clay's Quilt (2001), charting both the portrayals of Appalachia in fiction and readers' responses to them. Satterwhite's unique approach doesn't just explain how people view Appalachia, it explains why they think that way. This innovative book will be a noteworthy contribution to Appalachian studies, cultural and literary studies, and reception theory.
"Focuses on networks of people, information, conveyances, and other resources and technologies that moved slave-based products from suppliers to buyers and users." (page 3) The book examines the credit and financial systems that grew up around trade in slaves and products made by slaves.
While Adolf Hitler’s National Socialist government was persecuting Jews and Jehovah’s Witnesses and driving forty-two small German religious sects underground, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints continued to practice unhindered. How some fourteen thousand Mormons not only survived but thrived in Nazi Germany is a story little known, rarely told, and occasionally rewritten within the confines of the Church’s history—for good reason, as we see in David Conley Nelson’s Moroni and the Swastika. A page-turning historical narrative, this book is the first full account of how Mormons avoided Nazi persecution through skilled collaboration with Hitler’s regime, and then eschewed postwar shame by constructing an alternative history of wartime suffering and resistance. The Twelfth Article of Faith and parts of the 134th Section of the Doctrine and Covenants function as Mormonism’s equivalent of the biblical admonition to “render unto Caesar,” a charge to cooperate with civil government, no matter how onerous doing so may be. Resurrecting this often-violated doctrinal edict, ecclesiastical leaders at the time developed a strategy that protected Mormons within Nazi Germany. Furthermore, as Nelson shows, many Mormon officials strove to fit into the Third Reich by exploiting commonalities with the Nazi state. German Mormons emphasized a mutual interest in genealogy and a passion for sports. They sent husbands into the Wehrmacht and sons into the Hitler Youth, and they prayed for a German victory when the war began. They also purged Jewish references from hymnals, lesson plans, and liturgical practices. One American mission president even wrote an article for the official Nazi Party newspaper, extolling parallels between Utah Mormon and German Nazi society. Nelson documents this collaboration, as well as subsequent efforts to suppress it by fashioning a new collective memory of ordinary German Mormons’ courage and travails during the war. Recovering this inconvenient past, Moroni and the Swastika restores a complex and difficult chapter to the history of Nazi Germany and the Mormon Church in the twentieth century—and offers new insight into the construction of historical truth.
Veit Harlan (1899-1964) was one of Germany's most controversial and loathed directors. The first English-language biography of the notorious director, Veit Harlan presents an in-depth portrait of the man who is arguably the only Nazi filmmaker with a distinct authorial style and body of work.
Presents the life of the most prominent black abolitionist of antebellum America, describing his work as a writer and activist whose assistance to runaway slaves in New York City inspired the formation of the Underground Railroad.
