From Douglas Howard, coeditor of Television Finales
So, about a year ago, I was watching that Breaking Bad film on Netflix and Watchmen on HBO, and I was still thinking about the Deadwood movie from the previous spring. Inasmuch as all three of those “shows” amounted to endings and beginnings (and still more endings), the SUP book that I co-edited with David Bianculli on Television Finales was, as a result, still very much on my mind. We seemed so preoccupied with the past, inasmuch as we were returning to it again and again in those movies and on that series. Maybe we were culturally mining those media objects to re-experience the thrill of past moments—like Rey climbing the wreckage of the Death Star in The Rise of Skywalker or Danny Torrance walking back into the Overlook in Doctor Sleep on the big screen. But, in returning to those locations and revisiting some of those characters (and meeting some new ones along the way), we were reinventing that past as a statement about the present and creating new endings that spoke to who or what we had become. (Although “Nostalgia” is literally a drug on Watchmen,exorcising the past may even lead to godhood for Angela Abar at the end of the series, as she literally considers walking on water.) But, of course, that was then, and this is now.
Slumped against my couch and burnt out from another day of e-mails, I stare vacantly at yet another hour of Family Feud and wonder why more people surveyed thought that “lump” was a better rhyme for “bump” than “jump” or how three people could name “chicken alfredo” as a kind of pasta. (Who takes these surveys? Where do they find these people?) Steve Harvey seems particularly happy in these episodes, I think. The families clap and dance together as the music plays, and why shouldn’t they? For them, there is no such thing as COVID, no outbreak spikes and second-wave anxieties, no debates about wearing masks or handwashing protocols, no election recounts, no polarized news for a polarized nation. And they could win a new car if they make it to Friday. While the twenty-thousand-dollar prize for the “fast money” round is a nice payday, it isn’t life-changing money, I grumble from my couch cushion, but the winners scream as if they will be getting lottery payouts. I move for the remote a few times, but I just don’t have the energy to leave this land where someone thinks that “José” starts with an “H” and no one seems to care. I wonder if I am drooling. These are my television habits on a weeknight at home. This is my brain during the pandemic, and this is the past that I now turn to—not reinvented, but reclining.
If I think about what I’ve been watching as of late, it’s not pretty. Oh no. I have burned more hours than I can count watching Beat Bobby Flay or Chopped, watching people scramble to cook under pressure, watching judges savor some slightly underdone pork loin and show no fear if a chef sweats a tad on their bread pudding. A cough during the dessert round is no cause for alarm, and Bobby Flay is more than willing to hug a competitor after an intense thirty minutes of empanadas. On Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives, Guy Fieri cruises into town in his cherry-red Camaro with the top down, to that world where patrons sit shoulder to shoulder to eat a world-famous hamburger or sample an obscenely decadent bowl of lobster mac and cheese. Of course, Guy gets to plunge a fork into the beef stew in the kitchen and smirks mischievously while the juice from that steak runs down his cheek. It’s all okay in the near-recent past, in the nightly time machine that shows me sugar-plum visions of pre-COVID glee. The drama here comes by the quart or the pound and often with a side of barbecue sauce. Nostalgia has become my drug of choice, too. I am a watchman. And I am watching.
At times, I feel horribly guilty, especially since there’s so much quality TV out there, older things to binge and newer things to start. But, in the midst of it all, yet another episode of The Office is comfort food, some predictability that goes down like Oysters Rockefeller in the Chopped kitchen or a steaming bowl of chicken soup at one of Guy’s out-of-the-way triple-D joints. (Am I watching too many cooking shows, I wonder, as food metaphors find their way into my vocabulary with alarming frequency? And am I watching too much of The Office? Hard to say. As far as the second one goes, though, my daughter dressed up as Dwight Schrute this year for Halloween.) And why shouldn’t I indulge in yet another half-hour of Impractical Jokers, if only to sit through Sal shouting “Bingo” in a crowded ballroom with none of the numbers on his card? No matter how many times I see it, the serious players are never amused. And no masks come out when Q gets handcuffed to a mime or Joe wears a diaper to square off against a sumo wrestler. Although the bits are frequently cringe-worthy, no one dies of embarrassment; no one dies of anything.
While I wait for civilization to reboot, I continue to tell myself that this experience is unprecedented and that I’m in some kind of cultural hibernation, living on TV predictability in the midst of a world that refuses to be second-guessed. A few years back, I wrote a CSTonline piece about reruns and how they satisfied our psychological craving for order, a necessary “counter” to the “chaos, flux, and unpredictability” of life. Maybe there are times when we need formula and control and security, things that TV often offers too much of. Maybe that’s the point of the exercise (or lack of exercise)—the familiarity, the safety, the predictability. I know that Pam won’t be marrying Roy and Jim won’t be working in Stamford forever. Maybe The Masked Singer is about all the intrigue and mystery that I can handle right now, as so many things remain up in the air. During a recent panel discussion at work, I talked about the need for some mindlessness during the pandemic, some moments of shutdown, a chance for the laptop to cool down and the user to recharge. As Steve Harvey smiles at yet another ridiculous response, I know that he gets it. So, why fight it? Maybe the answer that I’m looking for is somewhere on the board behind those numbers or hidden in a survey question about goldfish or vampires.
Douglas L. Howard is academic chair of the English Department on the Ammerman Campus at Suffolk County Community College. He is the co-editor of Television Finales: From Howdy Doody to Girls published by the Syracuse University Press, co-editor of The Essential Sopranos Reader and editor of Dexter: Investigating Cutting Edge Television.
#RaiseUP: Local Voices
“Great regional lists are essential because they do such heavy lifting – they expose the charm of a region, they help us look truthfully at the sometimes painful and sometimes joyful history of a region, and they’re truly unique to each university press.”-Peggy Solic
As the acquisitions editor for Syracuse University Press’ New York State series, I think our regional list is our most mission-driven – these are the books that tether us most closely to and hopefully reflect the community in which we live and work. Really, the only thing that ties one book to another is that they have to relate to the community that we’ve loosely defined as New York State. History! Geography! Art! Architecture! Food! Drink! Travel! Nature! Politics! Photography! Upstate! Central New York! Western New York! New York City! The Adirondacks! The Catskills! You name it, if it has a connection to New York State, I’m willing to consider it.
The first question I ask myself when I open a proposal for a manuscript in our New York State series is: Does it excite me? That is the great fun (and the great privilege) of acquiring regional titles! More importantly, however, it also has to serve the readers of New York State as well as the mission of the press to “preserve the history, literature, and culture of our region.” So, I also ask myself: Does it tell me something new or original or unknown or interesting about New York State? Does it feature individuals or voices we haven’t heard before? Does it provide us with new perspective on the region? For example, we recently opened a new series, Haudenosaunee and Indigenous Worlds, which I hope, while not geographically limited to New York State, will drive discussion on important regional issues. Syracuse University and Syracuse University Press now stand on the ancestral lands of the Onondaga Nation, firekeepers of the Haudenosaunee.
My acquisitions strategy in this area is, I’ll admit, somewhat self-serving – manuscripts have to tick certain boxes to fit our list, but I also want books and projects that will pull me further into the community and teach me something about a region that is fairly new to me. I moved to Syracuse a year and a half ago and having spent six months of that time mostly at home I’ve counted on our regional list to help transport me around the state! I’ve used Chuck D’Imperio’s many travel books to help plan road trips, been inspired to take up a meditative walking habit after reading Nina Shengold’s Reservoir Year: A Walker’s Book of Days, and bought some new snow shovels after reading Timothy Kneeland’s forthcoming Declaring Disaster: Buffalo’s Blizzard of ’77 and the Creation of FEMA.
Great regional lists are essential because they do such heavy lifting – they expose the charm of a region, they help us look truthfully at the sometimes painful and sometimes joyful history of a region, and they’re truly unique to each university press. They reflect the best of what university presses exist to do – to publish authors that might be overlooked elsewhere but whose work is essential to understanding and appreciating a region.
#RaiseUP is the 2020 theme of the year. It highlights the role that the university press community plays in elevating authors, subjects, and whole disciplines that bring new perspectives, ideas, and voices to readers around the globe—in partnership with booksellers, librarians, and others. #UPWeek
To commemorate Pride Month, a celebration of the progress made in the fight for equality among the LGBTQ community, SU Press interviewed Michael Long, the editor of Gay is Good: The Life and Letters of Gay Rights Pioneer Franklin Kameny. Long is the author or editor of numerous books on nonviolent protest, civil rights, politics, and religion.
SUP: You’ve published books on Jackie Robinson, Thurgood Marshall, Martin Luther, and other historic figures. What drew you to civil rights activist Franklin Kameny and how important did you feel it was to tell the world his story?
Michael Long: I first came across Kameny when researching connections between the modern civil rights movement and the early LGBTQ rights movement. That research led me to the collection of his papers at the Library of Congress, where I found a treasure trove of his unpublished letters.
I’ve read thousands and thousands of letters in my life—Robinson’s, Marshall’s, Bayard Rustin’s—and I dare say I’ve enjoyed none more than Kameny’s.
I was captivated not just because of their rich historical quality, but especially because of their style. His letters are strident and loud. Clear and logical. Demanding and urgent. Full of capitalized words and exclamation points. Like his brash personality, they’re brutally honest and transparent. Kameny bled all over the page.
Given my long-term interest in the letters of historical figures, you can understand why I was hooked.
I was also attracted to the project because at that time there was no other single book devoted to Kameny. Historians had largely ignored him, even though he was one of the most influential leaders of the early LGBTQ movement. So telling his story was important for correcting his ongoing erasure from much of history.
SUP: How does your book and the 150 letters included give voice to his drive for equality?
Michael Long: The letters track Kameny’s transition from a relatively closeted gay man to an activist picketing the White House and marching through New York City.
Kameny was fired from his federal job as an astronomer during the height of the Lavender Scare, when the federal government deemed LGBTQ individuals as significant threats to national security. Typically, gay men and lesbians fired during at this point retreated into the private sector without publicly protesting their dismissals. But Kameny was far from typical.
Not long after he begged for the return of his job—and I mean begged—he began demanding equality for all “homosexuals” in the federal government and throughout the public square. It’s really a breathtaking transition. The letters show how the government unintentionally radicalized him and pushed him to become a hard-driving pioneer in the early homophile movement.
Perhaps what’s best about Gay Is Good is that it offers Kameny’s unfiltered voice. The letters reveal his feelings in all their intensity—his despondency after losing his job, his fury at the government’s treatment of “homosexuals,” his arrogance when dealing with anyone who wants to treat LGBTQ individuals as second-class citizens, his relentless passion for gay rights everywhere, and his pride about making the government treat LGBTQ individuals with respect, dignity, and equality.
SUP: Why do you feel Franklin Kameny isn’t as well-known as Harvey Milk when it comes to LGBTQ history?
Michael Long: Kameny had a much greater impact on the national LGBTQ movement than Milk did, especially in shaping federal policy, declassifying homosexuality as a mental disorder, and organizing marches for gay rights at the White House and other public institutions long before the Stonewall Uprising of 1969. But Kameny could be abrasive, and he possessed none of Milk’s political charm and willingness to compromise. He alienated a lot of people.
Milk was also seemed more adept at building a constituency of younger people in the growing LGBTQ movement, the ones who would become its future leaders. Compared to Milk, Kameny appeared staid and conventional. Plus, after Milk was assassinated in 1978, his life took on a near-mythological quality.
SUP: What unique contribution does Gay is Good make to LGBTQ history?
Michael Long: Gay Is Good gives Kameny his rightful place in LGBTQ history, and it makes a compelling case that his name deserves to be uttered in the same breath as Milk’s. Indeed, our book clearly shows that it’s utterly impossible to tell the story of the early LGBTQ rights movement without placing Kameny at its center.
By the way, one of the interesting things about the early LGBTQ rights movement in the United States is that it’s so diffuse. Unlike the black civil rights movement, the LGBTQ rights movement never had a Martin Luther King, Jr. figure—a single leader who represented the general movement. But this does not mean that the LGBTQ rights movement lacked individuals whose ambition was to become its national leader. In fact, Gay Is Good shows that Kameny struggled mightily to become the single leader. He failed at that, but he certainly gave it his all.
SUP: Are there a few specific letters or writings that really stood out to you when working on the book?
Michael Long: One of my favorite excerpts comes from a letter he wrote to his mother in 1972:
“Some thirty years ago, I told you that if society and I differ on anything, I will give society a second chance to convince me. If it fails, then I am right and society is wrong, and if society gets in my way, it will be society which will change, not I. That was so alien to your life that you responded with disdain. It has been a guiding principle in my life. Society was wrong. I am making society change.“
Another favorite writing comes from his petition to the Supreme Court. Given the year he wrote this—1961—it’s quite the radical sentence:
“Petitioner asserts, flatly, unequivocally, and absolutely uncompromisingly, that homosexuality, whether by mere inclination or by overt act, is not only not immoral, but that, for those choosing voluntarily to engage in homosexual acts, such acts are moral in a real and positive sense, and are good, right, and desirable, socially and personally.“
Still another comes from a 1965 letter he wrote to the Daughters of Bilitis (DOB), who had expressed reservations about picketing for “homosexual rights”:
“[W]e were informed that DOB would picket only when the action was backed by the larger community.
First, this is arrant nonsense! When one has reached the stage where picketing is backed by the larger community, such picketing is no longer necessary. The entire force and thrust of picketing is a protest on issues not yet supported or backed by the larger community, in order to bring issues to the fore, and to help elicit that support.
Second, this is in keeping with a mentality which has pervaded this movement from its beginning—homosexuals must never do anything for themselves; they must never come out into the open. They must work through and behind others. They must never present their own case—let others do so for them. We have outgrown this “closet queen” type of approach, and it is well that we have.“
SUP: Are there any misconceptions about Franklin Kameny that you’d like readers to know about?
Michael Long: I’m less concerned about misconceptions than I am about the lack of basic knowledge about Kameny’s life and legacy. I implore the readers here to dig in and learn about the person I consider to be the most important pioneer of the early LGBTQ rights movement.
SUP: If a movie was made about Franklin Kameny, what actor do you feel would best portray Kameny’s powerful voice?
Michael Long: Billy Eichner would be an excellent choice!
Waleed Mahdi discusses his forthcoming book, Arab American in Film: From Hollywood and Egyptian Stereotypes to Self-Representation, and talks about the politics of portraying Arab Americans in the cinema.
SUP: Your work, Arab Americans in Film, compares Arab American portrayals in both the movie making hubs of Hollywood and Egypt. Why these two culture centers? And what is gained by surveying these film landscapes side by side?
WM: Indeed, these are important movie-making hubs. For decades, Hollywood filmmakers have produced works that model good citizenship and normalize what it means to be American in ways that alienate Arab and Muslim Americans along with indigenous Americans, Latino/a Americans, Asian Americans, Jewish Americans, and African Americans, among other minorities. When it comes to subverting Hollywood in the Arab world, the most important media culture to examine is that of Egypt, home to the largest, most popular, and most prolific Arabic film industry. Egypt is the most populous country in the Arab world and boasts a critical history in developing anticolonial and postcolonial narratives of struggle for Arabic and Islamic identities.
Both industries have played major roles in mediating the collective imagination of the dominant forces in the two respective cultures. Comparing them reveals clues about East-West polarization in the cultural imaginations of “Self” and “Other” that exist in both US and Arab nationalist rhetoric. Despite major differences between the two cinematic industries in power, production, and circulation, I argue, the filmmakers in these filmic sites have subjected their imagery of Arab Americans to binaristic portrayals through glorification of Americanness and vilification of Arabness in Hollywood and vice versa in Egyptian cinema, leaving no imagination of Arab Americans as complex communities defined by a multitude of identities and experiences.
SUP: Today’s media environment is a crowded one. From traditional forms like broadcast television and music, to new social media platforms and streaming services, audiences don’t have to look far for cultural productions. Why did you choose film as the means for your comparative analysis? What does film uniquely offer as a site of inquiry?
WM: It is true that our age is saturated with content, especially with the quality improvement of television series and emergence of social media as well as subscription-based platforms. Film remains an important medium with multi-layered importance in popular culture, especially in countries like the United States and Egypt, as it serves a venue for both entertainment and education.
Films are intriguing because they mold visual imagery into codes that reflect and shape both a nation’s collective memory and national identity in an entertaining way. They tend to be accessible to audiences regardless of their language competency, educational status, or cultural background. They often serve as educational tools in a world increasingly centered around, if not mobilized by, mediated images and messages. They also have the power to function as tools for visibility, podiums for authenticity, and mirrors of reality.
And when adding the enriching effects of genres, it becomes obvious that the medium of film is a vehicle of thoughts and emotions that is often packaged as mere entertainment, but that carries the power to connect with audiences in personal terms, voice social commentary, mobilize public sentiments, and patrol the boundaries of national and cultural realms of belonging.
And the process of inclusion and exclusion that goes into all aspects of film making presents itself as a rich site for analysis of constraints and monopolies of power. Therefore, I should emphasize the instrumentality of film imagery especially in relation to this book’s critical site of inquiry, i.e., identity and representation.
SUP: How have your experiences influenced and inspired the task of writing this book?
WM: One of the key contributions of the book is to illustrate how Arab Americans’ struggle for belonging and citizenship is not exclusively a product of US Orientalist and racialized histories. I rather imagine this struggle as one against existing polarizations in the cultural imaginations in both US and Arab state nationalist narratives. This argument is inspired by my personal experience as an Arab American of Yemeni background constantly wrestling with American, Arab, Muslim, and Yemeni narratives of belonging and citizenship.
In my travels, I have encountered conflicting public attitudes and government policies preconfigured to define me and confine my identity within a specific national, ethnic, or even religious frame. During trips to Malaysia, Turkey, Lebanon, Egypt, Qatar, United Arab Emirates, Morocco, and Yemen over the past few years, people would often question me about US foreign policy towards Arabs and Muslims. Uniting such questions, in most cases, was not so much interest in my scholarship but rather a desire to read my responses through the prism of allegiance. My interlocutors sought to package me as either an American or a Yemeni—identities implicitly presumed to be incompatible.
In the meantime, my return story to the US in the aftermath of every overseas trip has involved an additional layer of security, whether before boarding in Tokyo, London, Dubai, Doha, and Amman, or when landing at Chicago’s O’Hare airport. The “SSSS” designation on my boarding passes, which stands for Secondary Security Screening Selection, speaks of an institutional anxiety around my ethnic background and conflates it with a potential act of terrorism.
Since I consider myself as a film buff, I have watched hundreds of films that perpetuate the sense of alienation that I have experienced in travels and while growing up in both Arabic and American cultures. This sense of alienation strips Arab Americans like me of our capability of occupying our own third space, one that does not have to be completely rooted in either Arabic or American cultures, and one that does not present Arab Americans as either aliens to our American culture or traitors to our Arabic heritage. And that’s why the book adds emerging Arab Americans films, limiting as they may be, as an important site for projecting a sense of Arab American authenticity that is about how Arab American individuals define themselves rather than how others define them.
SUP: The American dream is one subject that Egyptian cinema constantly returns to in its portrayals of the Arab American experience. In certain segments of US society there is an increasing disillusionment surrounding the idea of the American dream. Do you see a similar cynicism toward the American dream in more recent Egyptian films?
WM: Egyptian filmmakers have always attached a sense of disillusionment to the American dream and presented it as unrealizable and unrewarding, urging their audience to seek out their own dreams in Egypt. As early as the film Amricany min Ṭanṭa (An American from Tanta, 1954) and as late as Talq Senaʿi (Induced Labor, 2018), Egyptian films have done so as part of a nationalist critique of the public fascination with the American culture. And as I argue in the book, this sentiment is driven less by a hatred of the US than by a sense of insecurity, loss, and anxiety regarding Egypt’s relative appeal as a place to live in and build a future. This is especially the case since many Egyptians would express a desire to live in the US, where hard work, social mobility, and justice are relatively cherished. Some Egyptian corporations have even capitalized on this fascination with the American dream via consumerist trends that primarily market US commodities, pop culture products, and shopping malls.
That’s why Egyptian films not only articulate disillusionment in the American dream but also imagine and advance an alternative Egyptian dream, one predicated on deterring Egyptians from leaving their homeland. This alternative dream will be made in Egypt, one in which migrating in search of social mobility, individual success, and even personal ambition is considered a selfish measure divorced from a commitment to one’s own Egyptian community. It is also worth noting that this simultaneous critique of and construction of alternatives to the American dream not only is limited to the films’ portrayals of Egyptian immigrants but also is deeply critical of the Egyptian elite’s promotion of consumerism and neoliberal economics as a global fulfillment of the American dream in Egypt.
As for American-based experiences, the American dream has always been a socio-political construct meant to uphold the American nationalist project, often entrenched in white privilege, institutional racism, and discrimination against people of color. The surveyed Arab American films in the book both celebrate and critique the limitations of the American dream. The films present Arab immigrant characters seeking to fulfill their own aspirations in the US but not without providing insightful critiques of the American dream notion as a celebratory site of inclusion in the American society. The lead Arab immigrant characters in films like American East (2007), Amreeka (2009), and The Citizen (2012) have various strives to fulfill material desires (e.g., houses, jobs, cars, etc.) and seek belonging to the United States, but they are forced to navigate both a racialized system and a post-9/11 reality that constantly challenge their American cultural citizenship. The characters enjoy happy endings with their dreams fulfilled or reconciled but the films are filled with situations and images that question the very idea of dreaming in a country that itself questions the presence of Arab immigrants.
The fact that many Arab American filmmakers and actors have struggled for decades to make their voices heard in Hollywood, an industry reluctant to embrace diverse Arab and Muslim perspectives, is a testimony to many of the critiques that the films themselves communicate.
SUP: In a post 9/11 world, there is an issue of typecasting Arab American talent. But, film making is a multilayered operation. From funding producers, to script writers, and even on marketing teams, what area of film making do you see as most in need of Arab American self-representation?
WM: 9/11, the growth of Arab and Arab American independent film festivals, particularly in the US, has provided Arab American filmmakers with a valuable alternative to casting and narrating their communities, with some limited success in distribution. And the prospect of providing support for Arab Americans seems promising with the competitive rise of such content-streaming services as Netflix, Amazon, and Hulu. Yet, Hollywood presents an institutionalized challenge for truly diverse narratives and experiences. Most Arab and Arab American actors, for example, have struggled against a casting practice that feeds on their vulnerability. Their roles are usually subsidiary and deeply entrenched in a racial hierarchy—despite evidence suggesting consumer demand for more diversity in lead roles.
It is certainly hard to prioritize any aspect of film making because production, writing, acting, filming, and marketing are all parts of a crucial process in film making. But I see the most urgent and past due change within Hollywood is to mainstream images of Arab Americans’ experiences beyond stereotypical lenses of national security and foreign policy. While some Arab American actors like Emmy Award winners Tony Shalhoub and Rami Malek have achieved prominence in Hollywood and transcended being cast in stereotypical ethnic roles, I am not convinced that success for such actors should only be limited to the desire of the privilege of being non-racialized in the industry.
I am for once hopeful that Hollywood’s production companies will experience a shift from their institutionalized lack of appetite to entertain non-mainstream perspectives, particularly ones that feature critical voices and ethnic community narratives. But this will not be possible without truly embracing the notion of multiculturalism. Until then, Hollywood’s positive portrayals of Arab Americans are merely sympathetic and function no more than tokens for inclusion in films that primarily entertain white perspectives.
In celebration of International Women’s Day, we asked our acquisitions editor Peggy Solic to share a few of her favorite SU Press women’s studies titles. Her selections show the essential role women have played in societies around the world, inspiring females to continue working towards equality between genders.
Gladiators in Suits: Race, Gender, and the Politics of Representation in Scandal edited by Simone Adams, Kimberly R. Moffitt, and Ronald L. Jackson II.
While I haven’t yet watched Scandal, this volume has inspired me to add it to my must-watch list! It brings together scholars who take a critical look at the complex interplay of race, gender, sexuality, and representation on the show, and audience reaction both to the show in general and to specific episodes.
by Tara M. McCarthy
This is a fascinating look at Irish American women active in both labor and Irish nationalist movements, as well as the women’s suffrage movement. Between 1880 and 1920, these women had a transnational perspective – advocating for labor reform and regulation, critiquing industrial capitalism, and pursuing cross-class alliances in suffrage organizations, as well as advocating for Irish nationalism.
by Nina Shengold
This beautiful book follows Nina Shengold’s year-long challenge to walk along the Ashokan Reservoir in Kingston, NY every single day (not nearly every day, but every single day). Leaving her phone at home enables Nina to keenly observe both the natural world (encountering bald eagles, bears, and deer) and other human beings who walk alongside her. Nina’s determination to engage with the natural world around her has inspired me to spend more time outside, take up a running habit, and pay closer attention to the world around me.
by Sertaç Sehlikoglu
This is a brilliant book that follows a diverse group of women in Istanbul and looks at what exercise means in their lives – how their relationship to it influences their self-conceptions, how that relationship to exercise is influenced by cultural messaging, but also how it empowers them to resist it, and how their engagement with exercise is interconnected with their identities as women, mothers, daughters, friends, and Istanbulites. I can’t wait to see it in print!
by Madeline Otis Campbell
This is an important study that looks at the lives of twelve men and women who worked as interpreters for the US army in Iraq. These men and women had to negotiate lives in both Iraq and the US, on and off base, and were often caught in situations made complex by the US military, immigration policies, and life as refugees, as well as gendered expectations and obligations, love of family, and economic needs.
The Middle East Journal included Political Muslims: Understanding Youth Resistance in a Global Context, edited by Tahir Abbas and Sadek Hamid, in the Winter 2019 volume. Their accolades included, “The agency and diversity of young Muslims are demonstrated, which not only helps us to better understand Muslim youth within Western societies but better informs engagement with those around the globe, including the Middle East.”
Making Peace with Referendums: Cyprus and Northern Ireland, written by Joana Amaral, was recently praised by the Nationalism and Ethnic Politics journal. The book was described as “an extremely welcome addition to the field” that is “likely to remain relevant so long as there are agreements put for public approval.”
The Asian Review of Books called Gaia, Queen of Ants “so impressive is the novel that one need not be familiar with other Uzbek works or culture, or even other Central Asian writing, to recognize its high quality. Any patience the novel may demand from the reader is an effort well-rewarded.”
Author Talks and Interviews
- Author Charles Kastner took a quick trip to New York City to visit New York Road Runner’s RUN CENTER for an interview on ‘Gotta Run with Will!’. He spoke with Melanie Eversley about his latest book, Race Across America: Eddie Gardner and the Great Bunion Derbies. This engaging interview discusses the history of black runners and the struggles they persevered through during these transcontinental races.
- Elizabeth Mannion, co-editor of Guilt Rules All, is participating in a Celtic Noir at the Tenth Annual St. Augustine Celtic Music and Heritage Festival on March 14th. A Celtic Noir is a celebration of Irish mystery and crime writers, including ‘Question & Answer’ opportunities, a panel discussion, and book signings with the authors.
- Author Chuck D’Imperio was recently interviewed by the Ithaca Times. He and Andrew Sullivan discussed the fascinating historic homes he located throughout Upstate New York in his latest book Open House: 35 Historic Upstate New York Homes.
- Joshua Stacher, author of Watermelon Democracy, recently discussed his latest book on OpenDemocracy.
Tablet reviewed Moishe Rozenbaumas’ autobiography, The Odyssey of an Apple Thief, calling it “a remarkably compelling read.” This review praises Rozenbaumas’ ability to objectively reflect on many decades of his life, stating “Rozenbaumas is eager to reflect on his life, good and bad, rather than gloss over the difficult and unflattering moments.”
In 1983, President Ronald Reagan signed a bill designating the third Monday of January as a Federal holiday honoring the life and achievements of Martin Luther King Jr. Although many of his supporters had been honoring his life annually since the assassination of King in 1969, it was almost 30 years before the holiday became nationally recognized. In honor of Martin Luther King Jr. Day, we highlight two Syracuse University Press books that reflect the long, trying battle for racial inequality in the United States.
Leveling the Playing Field by David Marc is the story of nine former Syracuse University football players, mistakenly coined as the ‘Syracuse 8’, who protested racial inequality on the SU Football team in 1969-70. The narrative and in-depth interviews provide a thorough account of the battles these nine young men experienced that led to their demands for equality. In boycotting the team practice, these players risked ruining their chance of a career in football, but as news of the protests grew, institutional changes slowly took hold that eventually paved the way for future African American athletes across the country.
Beyond Home Plate by David Long collects the many articles written by Major League Baseball Hall of Famer, and the first African American MLB player, Jackie Robinson. Following his retirement from the MLB, Robinson continued in his pursuit of social progress through his work as a writer. Contributing a regular column to the New York Post and New York Amsterdam News, Robinson provided rich social commentary while simultaneously exploring his own life and experiences. As a pioneer for African Americans in athletics, Robinson’s articles on life after baseball began a civil rights movement as he began to shed light on the racism he had experienced throughout his time in the MLB
Author Sean Kirst discusses today’s theme
Eight years ago or so, when I began working with editors at the Syracuse University Press on “The Soul of Central New York,” the entire goal – and the success of the book – hinged on the notion of community.
At its heart, the book was a collection of columns I had written over what would turn into 27 years as a staff writer and columnist with The Syracuse Post-Standard. The idea was capturing – as a guy who first arrived here years ago from somewhere else – what I had sensed and hopefully shared over many years with readers about Syracuse and Central New York: It is a place of extraordinary physical beauty, heritage and shared experience that had – through decades of economic, environmental and cultural struggle – sometimes forgotten its own gentle but resounding claim to the extraordinary.
The idea of putting together such a a collection sounds simple. As I quickly learned, It was not. My early attempts contained too many columns, too many repetitive themes and too little of a focus. The first concept involved roughly 150 columns. In the end, in close partnership with editor Alison Maura Shay of the SU Press, she wisely convinced me to almost halve that number and create a narrative thread binding it together, with the first sentence connected to the last.
‘The Soul of Central New York’ offers accounts of some high-profile figures whose personal lives in some often intimate way had intersected with Syracuse or the region: Famed children’s author Eric Carle, then-Vice President Joseph Biden, anthropologist Jane Goodall, Onondaga Nation faithkeeper Oren Lyons, longtime Syracuse University basketball coach Jim Boeheim.
Yet they were simply part of the core notion of the book, which was illuminating how a network of seemingly everyday tales from a multitude of experiences – some involving the region’s defining and ongoing connection with the Onondagas – meshed together in a living definition of community.
Thus the fate of an elderly man who falls on a bitterly cold day on a downtown sidewalk, or the tale of a child raised amid struggle in a housing project whose chance encounter at a newsstand helps him ascend to a career as a bank executive, or the account of a woman born with cerebral palsy who formally turns out the lights of an institution that once overwhelmed her life …. these narratives became the spine, the foundation of the book.
All told, it took five years to put together, and the process demanded that I jettison some of my own early preconceptions and focus on making it tighter, smaller and, hopefully, significantly more effective. The outcome was a reaction that I don’t think any of us expected: It became the fastest-selling book in the history of the Syracuse University Press, and a book intended to make at least a small and lasting statement on a sense of place, of joined identity.
For that, I am grateful to the editors and staff at the SU Press. Through their patience, and their belief in the larger theme, we attempted to create a quiet reminder of how struggle, pain and love, the core forces in any solitary life, are also the elements that forge true community – and provide the strength to last.
Sean Kirst, author of ‘The Soul of Central New York,’ was the recipient of journalism’s 2009 Ernie Pyle Award for human interest writing; he is now a columnist with The Buffalo News.
“Speaking Up and Speaking Out”
Author Kelly Belanger discusses today’s theme
I’m in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, this week for a conference on Community Writing, a relatively modest-sized gathering of about 350 professors and local community members who see speaking out and speaking up on social issues as part of their personal and professional callings.
I find my colleagues’ commitments and passion inspiring, yet I don’t usually think of myself as an activist. I identify first as a writing teacher and a writer. I have spoken out on inequalities for women in sports by using my academic research skills and persisting in my quest to piece together a little-known history. I discovered how and why courageous individuals decided to speak out in the 1970s movement for gender equality in athletics. This movement took off in the 1970s when Congress, through Title IX, made sex discrimination illegal in federally funded schools.
Like some of the women I wrote about at Michigan State University, Temple, Brown, Texas my personality type is best described as introverted. Like Rollin Haffer at Temple, Marianne Mankowski at MSU, or Peggy Layne at Vanderbilt, I don’t typically seek public attention, and I prize harmonious relationships with friends, colleagues, and family. I value studying a problem from many angles, often waiting for others to speak and take the lead before offering my perspective.
But writing Invisible Seasons Title IX and the Fight for Equity in College Sports reminded me that social change movements require a symphony of voices, perspectives, and divergent rhetorical styles. Speaking up and speaking out is a responsibility. It’s a necessity. It has consequences and demands courage. When each of us, with our different styles and strategies, steps up to play our part, changes for the good of us all can begin.
Kelly Belanger, author of Invisible Seasons: Title IX and the Fight for Equity in College Sports is a professor of English and director of the university writing program at Valparaiso University.
We are thrilled to announce the winner of the 2019 Veterans Writing Award is Dewaine Farria for his novel Revolutions of All Colors. Farria’s writing has appeared in the New York Times, CRAFT, Drunken Boat, Outpost Magazine, and on the Afropunk website. He is a frequent contributor to The Mantle. He holds an MA in International and Area Studies from the University of Oklahoma and an MFA in Creative Writing from the Vermont College of Fine Arts. As a U.S. Marine, Dewaine served in Jordan and Ukraine. Besides his stint in the military, Dewaine has spent most of his professional life working for the United Nations, with assignments in the Russian North Caucasus, Kenya, Somalia, and Occupied Palestine. He presently lives in the Philippines with his wife, daughter, two sons, two cats, and a dog.
Farria answered a few questions for us about his writing and what inspires him.
SUP: Has your military service influenced your writing? In what ways?
DF: The Marine Corps taught me how much of life revolves around consistency and habits. The discipline I developed in the Marine Corps helped shape my, “every morning, butt in the chair” approach to writing. Certainly, my time in the military also heavily influenced my thoughts on patriotism, masculinity, and violence—themes that frequently pop up in my work.
SUP: You’ve published both non-fiction and fiction in various print and online platforms. Do you see each as engaging with the reader in different ways?
DF: Good writing—whether it be poetry, fiction, or non-fiction—conveys truth. I consider myself a pretty forgiving reader. For a good story I’ll tolerate self-indulgent language, grammatical liberties, and slips in point of view. What I can’t abide is dishonesty; nothing disengages me from a piece of writing more quickly than the creeping desire to call “bullshit.” Convincing the reader to trust your narrator is the challenge and this is true regardless of genre or point of view—including for pieces with heavily journalistic elements (like this essay that I wrote for the New York Times last year).
SUP: What was the inspiration for this novel?
DF: My father inspired the novel. I built the book out of a short story called “Walking Point,” which contains a character loosely based on my dad. An early version of the story won second place in Line of Advance’s Colonel Darren L. Warren Writing Contest and can be found here.
SUP: Are you currently working on any writing projects?
DF: I’m about halfway done with a collection of short stories. Earlier this year, CRAFT published, “The Knife Intifada,” the first story from the collection. After I finish up these eight short stories, I plan to begin work on a collection of linked essays.
Short stories are the perfect way to discover an author’s work, great for when you don’t have the time or mojo to commit to a 400 page novel, and a brainy impulse purchase on your phone or e-reader. This month we encourage you to pick up a new story collection or share one with a friend, and we have a few suggestions to get you started.
“The stories here show a great breadth, empathy for and insight into his subjects. His ability to move elegantly through different styles is not just a welcome addition to the Irish short story tradition but also a vital one.” —Books Ireland
Richard Power (1928-1970), an accomplished novelist, short story writer, and playwright, explores the life of of an Irish mother and adolescent girl in The Rebels. This collection of short stories captures the daily lives of urban and rural dwellers in Ireland at the turn of the twentieth century. He tackles themes of coming of age, the tensions between modern and traditional life, and romantic love in his beautiful and vivid tales. This memorable collection, arranged by James MacKillop, gives new life to Richard Power’s voice and the fans of the Irish short story tradition.
“I like a little mystery and for people to walk away from a story thinking of various possibilities. In terms of this collection as a whole, I would love readers to feel like they’ve been somewhere else for a few hours; somewhere that has been a little though-provoking; a place of meditation.” —Sophia Hillan, Author
The Cocktail Hour includes moving tales on the themes of sibling love and how it develops over time. These short stories retell the journey’s of various individuals in different periods of their lives. It includes one young boy’s contemplation of the wars in Ireland and Germany and it’s effect on his imaginative mind. One woman’s playful New York adventure and how it becomes a confrontation with external reality. And lastly, a dramatic monologue from one of Jane Austen’s bitter relatives that is directed at Austen herself.
“Jewish Vilna is forever gone, but this translation of Vilna My Vilna does much to keep its pale memory alive. Helen Mintz renders Karpinowitz’s slangy, colloquial Yiddish into a lively and idiomatic English and graces both Karpinowitz’s stories, and even Jewish Vilna itself, with a second life.“
In this collection, Karpinowitz portrays, with compassion and intimacy, the dreams and struggles of the poor and disenfranchised Jews of his native city before the Holocaust. His stories provide an affectionate and vivid portrait of poor working women and men, like fishwives, cobblers, and barbers, and people who made their living outside the law, like thieves and prostitutes. This collection also includes two stories that function as intimate memoirs of Karpinowitz’s childhood growing up in his father’s Vilna Yiddish theater.
“I am interested in the vulnerable moments people can encounter. My characters often find themselves facing ordinary or extraordinary obstacles. Some will be graceful in these challenges and others will blunder, hurt others and themselves in the process. Fiction must feel emotionally authentic even as the situations and characters are pulled from my imagination. I believe we expand our understanding of human behavior through stories.”
—Lisa C. Taylor, Author
In Lisa Taylor’s second collection of short stories, a woman locks a man in an airplane bathroom, two brothers rewrite their past, and strangers in an airport are thrown together through tragedy. Taylor explores the ideas of confinement and expansion with both humor and angst, as characters of all ages and backgrounds are continually forced to redefine who they are, and how they think.
“All the stories are about people whose past struggles to fit their present-a rich and universal subject. Because the setting is Israel, these struggles can escalate into matters of life and death. Sometimes, as the title hauntingly indicates, Ehrlich’s characters triumph by simply dying last.”
Both Hilarious and sad at the same time, Ehrlich’s collection of short stories, takes his characters on a tantalizing journey through their souls. His understated writing style transforms even the most heartbreaking plots into an uplifting and funny tale. Israel’s special unique history, landscapes, and conflicts add to the drama and passion of the collection. The themes discussed relate to gay life in Israel, loneliness, and the importance of community in time of sorrow and tragedy. Rather than a single translator, this collection was translated by various translators, bring out the diversity of voices in the stories.
“Zafzaf offers visions of Moroccan culture and its traditions in an easygoing style that is well-nigh incomparable.”—World Literature Today
Monarch of the Square is Mohammed Zafzaf’s first collection of work that has been translated into English. This anthology is a tribute to his influence on an entire generation of Moroccan storytellers.
Zafzaf’s stories portray all aspects of Moroccan life and shows the struggle to survive in such a challenging place that is constantly changing. His writing explores the various myths, beliefs, and traditions that operate within his culture, while questioning it all in an easy-going, conversational manner.
These six books and the rest of our short story collection is available for purchase online at our website.
April is the month when the world celebrates the importance of poetry in our lives. To join the celebration we’re highlighting five books of poetry from our press and our distribution partner, Sheep Meadow Press. We hope these selections will spark your interest, and encourage you to read a poem, share a poem, or write your own poem.
In the Alley of the Friend is a translation of the Persian book Dar Kuy-e Dust which is about the fourteenth century poet Hafez, who is often recognized as the most original Persian poet of all time. Scholars have studied his work for centuries, exploring his life and his deeply moving poetry of love, spirituality, and protest. Ghanoonparvar’s translation of scholar Shahrokh Meskoob’s analysis of Hafez’s work provides profound insight into the poets thoughts and spirit.
Sarah Plimpton’s The Noise of the Rain illustrates her collected poems with simplistic black on white and white on black drawings. Both an artist and poet, some have referred to her creations as being as quiet as the moments just before sleep, almost like preludes to dreams. Word choice and the way she arranges her poetry exudes a certain simple intensity. You can find her books in the The Museum of Fine Arts, The New York Public Library, and the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
Winters Come, Summers Gone is a collection of selected poems by the notable Howard Moss.
This book combines work from his first three published volumes with fourteen new poems. Moss was an American poet, critic, and the poetry editor of The New Yorker for nearly forty years. He wrote eleven books of poetry and even won the National Book award in 1972. Much of his poetry centers around the theme of love in its various forms.
Perhaps Bag is a collection of poems by acclaimed British poet Carol Rumens. Starting with her first set of poems in 1968 to her most recent and unpublished pieces from 2017, Rumens “retains her feminine voice but extends her sympathies beyond feminism” (Anne Stevenson). She has written fourteen books of poetry and currently serves as a Professor of Creative Writing at Bangor University, in Wales.
Perhaps one of the most distinguishable poets of all time, Paul Celan, described Schneepart as his “strongest and boldest” book. It’s a response to the Soviet invasion of Czechoslovakia, and is a collection of poetry haunted by images of violence and resistance in a dark European century. Snow Part is the first published English translation of Schneepart. Its seventy poems were published in 1971, a year after Celan’s death. Translator Ian Fairley includes twenty posthumous poems that are closely related to the themes found in Schneepart.
To learn more or purchase any of the books listed on this page, visit our website!
Learn about Suzanne Hinman’s latest book in our interview where we discuss art, architecture, and scandal in 1890’s New York City.
The Grandest Madison Square Garden tells the story behind the 1890 construction of Madison Square Garden and the eighteen–foot nude sculpture of Diana, the Roman Virgin Goddess of the Hunt, that crowned it. Author Suzanne Hinman delves into the fascinating private lives of the era’s most prominent architect and sculptor, revealing the nature of their intimate relationship. She shows how both men created a new era of art which meshed European styles with American vitality. The Grandest Madison Square Garden tells the tale of architecture, art, and spectacle amid the elegant yet scandal-ridden culture of Gotham’s decadent era.
Suzanne Hinman holds a PhD in American art history and has been a curator, gallerist, museum director, and professor. She served as the director of galleries at the Savannah College of Art and Design and was the associate director of the Hood Museum of Art at Dartmouth. We interviewed Hinman about her experience writing The Grandest Madison Square Garden to better understand the ins and outs of this time in history.
What inspired you to write about the lives and achievements of architect Stanford White and sculptor Augustus Saint-Gaudens?
It is so difficult to recall exactly, as I began more than 12 years ago, largely inspired, I would have to say, by the beauty of their creations, separately, and then even more so together. I had always loved the Italian-inspired architecture of McKim, Mead, and White, whether in New York, Boston, Washington, D.C. or anywhere else I could find it. I was also intrigued by the life of Stanford White, the most exuberant, amazing, creative of the three partners. When I first moved to New Hampshire, I visited the town of Cornish and discovered the incredibly beautiful work of Augustus Saint-Gaudens, set at Aspet, his home that sparked the beginning of the Cornish Art Colony and is now a National Historic Site. And when I discovered that these two men not just knew each other but were dearest friends who often collaborated together, it was even better.
I probably first discovered the Diana sculpture that topped the tower of Madison Square Garden while visiting the Metropolitan Museum in New York, where in a half-size version she welcomes visitors to the grand courtyard of the American Wing. It took a few years before I was able to see the actual surviving 1893 version Diana, reigning over the Great Stair Balcony at the Philadelphia Museum of Art, and that was an amazing moment.
Which part of researching for the Grandest Madison Square Garden was the most personally interesting to you?
I truly loved it all. Of course, visiting archives that held the letters and notes actually written by my two key players, architect Stanford White and sculptor Augustus Saint-Gaudens, was definitely an incredible experience–touching (in gloves) the pieces of paper, holding them in my hands, studying the signatures, the extra bits written in the margins, and all the wonderful information they revealed. Among the most important collections were the Avery Architectural and Fine Art Library at Columbia and the New York Historical Society for the papers of Stanford White and the McKim, Mead & White firm. For Augustus Saint-Gaudens, it was the Saint-Gaudens Papers at Rauner Special Collections, Baker Library, at Dartmouth College.
The second major source of research information was the newspapers of the day, and that was quite exciting also, finding contemporary accounts written the very day, filled with so much information, much of which had not been seen or noted for more than a hundred years. I loved the detective work, stumbling on amazing new bits as I searched newspapers archives now so accessible online. The discoveries I made, including a long-forgotten scandal regarding Saint-Gaudens and his nude models and a new theory regarding the crime-of-the-century murder of White at the Garden were quite exciting!
Do you think your background in art history has influenced your writing style? If so, how?
I think it was an interwoven process, that my writing style derives from wanting to tell a good story and that led me to the field of art history. I fell in love with art and art history while still a teenager, when I wanted to know the stories behind the artists and their work. My background as an art historian has allowed me to know the sources and dive deeply into the research, but still, my goal remains telling a good story, not simply for an academic audience but for a general audience with an interest in art, architecture, history, life in the Gilded Age, and so forth. I should add that the book also examines significant elements of LGBTQ history, as well as the history of sports in America, so much of which occurred at Madison Square Garden.
What was the most difficult aspect of your twelve-year research and writing process?
There was no difficult aspect to the research and writing process. I absolutely loved it: from the excitement of discovery to putting the bits and pieces together into a good story that I could see unfolding inside my head. There was nothing I would rather do than sit at my computer in my messy little home office, spinning my straw into gold.
The difficult part came towards the end, finding just the right publisher who would realize the market for the book, that it was not written just for academics but for the general public and that there was a real audience for the subject. Luckily Syracuse University Press was that publisher, and the book fit neatly within their existing series on the history of New York state.
Why read The Grandest Madison Square Garden? (in 50 words or less)
To start with a couple of kind reviews, “it’s a splendid story,” as “vivid and enthralling as a novel,” revealing the fascinating private lives of the era’s most prominent architect and sculptor while telling the remarkable and sometimes scandal–ridden story behind the design and construction of the fabulous 1890 Madison Square Garden and the nude sculpture that crowned it.
Read more about The Grandest Madison Square Garden and purchase the text on the Syracuse University Press website today!
Celebrate International Women’s Day by checking out some of the Syracuse University Press’s many female-focused titles. We hope this selection of books written by women, about women, and about women studies will illuminate the impact females have had on society and the world.
Sylvia Porter: America’s Original Personal Finance Columnist discusses the life of one of the most admired women of the twentieth century. A pioneer for both male and female journalists, Porter established a new genre of newspaper writing while also carving a space for women in the male-dominated fields of finance and journalism. Tracy Lucht traces Porter’s professional legacy, identifying the strategies she used to pave the way for not only herself, but female writers everywhere.
Athena’s Daughters: Televisions New Women Warriors examines the complex relationship between feminism and violence in popular television shows that feature women warriors. This book is made up of individual essays based in feminist theoretical debate about alternative feminist storytelling in the media. Editors Frances Early and Kathleen Kennedy provide a cutting-edge forum to recognize women’s increasing role in popular culture as action heroes.
Running for All the Right Reasons: A Saudi-born Woman’s Pursuit of Democracy is the story of Ferial Masry, the first Saudi American to run for political office in U.S. history. As a recent immigrant and naturalized citizen, Masry surpassed all the odds by winning the write-in vote for the California State Assembly seat. This book recounts Masry’s childhood in Mecca and her decision to emigrate to the United States, as well as her career as an educator and her bold entry into the political sphere. Her journey is truly remarkable.
Arab Women’s Lives Retold: Exploring Identity Through Writing is a collection of essays that challenges the stereotypes of Middle Eastern women by analyzing the autobiographical writing of various Arab novelists, poets, and artists. This book explores the ways female Arab writers have spoken about their roles and identities in different social settings. As a whole these writings provide a clearer picture on the impact of identity and global politics on Arab women’s rights.
I’m extremely proud to have worked with Tara McCarthy on Respectability and Reform: Irish American Women’s Activism (1880–1920). McCarthy makes use of meticulous archival research to recount the ways Irish American women contributed to the women’s suffrage movement and Irish nationalist movement in America. With lively prose, compelling images, and exciting newspaper accounts, McCarthy gives us a provocative, informative, and important book about the vital role women play in social and political reform. It’s a model that is especially important to honor, learn from, and be encouraged by today.
— Deborah Mannion, Acquisitions Editor
Mihrî Hatun was an early Ottoman poet, far ahead of her time in the subversiveness and boldness of her work. She challenged traditional notions of gender in the Ottoman court when knowledge production was thought to belong solely to educated, elite men. I loved working on Didem Havlioglu’s elegant study of Mihrî—here, we get to read the poetry, understand this remarkable woman’s life, and recognize the foundational role she continues to play in the intellectual history of the Middle East.
— Suzanne Guiod, Acquisitions Editor
Cuddle Up With A Good Book This Valentine’s Day ♥
Check out our top five reads for Valentines Day! Whether you are reading on your own, gifting one to your partner, or discussing it with your girlfriends on Galentine’s Day, these books will not leave you disappointed.
This collection of thirteen short stories centers around protagonist Nadia, who was born and raised in Egypt, educated in England, and immigrated to the United States. Her background mirrors the life experience of author Samia Serageldin, whose stories shed light on one woman’s exploration of identity through a backdrop of Egyptian history and everyday interaction with friends and family.
Serageldin shifts the narrative from Nadia’s grand-mother’s garden house in Cairo to the suburbs of North Carolina, revealing powerful portraits of cultural dislocation, faith, and multi-generational conflicts.
This is the first illustrated anthology of Turkish folk poetry and legends published in the United States. Author Talat Hamlan brings together three of the most beloved Anatolian tales and legends with selected poems from four great folk poets—Yunus Emre, Pir Sultan Abdal, Köroğlu, and Karacaoğlan.
Divided into seven sections, each features four visual experiences which portray extraordinary images of nature, human figures, and emotions. They capture not only the splendor of nature in Anatolia but also the quintessential spirit of the legends and love lyrics that originated there.
He’s fond of anyone who throws a party;
he’s always at a party in his dreams,
for party-crashing’s blazoned on his heart . . .
a prisoner to the path of fine cuisine.
With this statement. author al-Khatib al-Baghdadi, a Muslim preacher and scholar, introduces The Art of Party-Crashing. This collection of irreverent and playful anecdotes celebrates eating, drinking, and the importance of having fun. Included are ribald jokes, flirtations, and wry observations of misbehaving Muslims to better familiarize readers with the ins and outs of everyday life in medieval Iraq. Translated from Arabic to English, The Art of Party-Crashing introduces the delights of medieval Arabic humor to a new audience.
In the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, during the time of Ottoman rule, travel to the Middle East was almost impossible for Westerners. That did not stop five daring women from abandoning their conventional lives and venturing into the heart of this inhospitable region.
Improbable Women follows the pilgrimages of five middle to upper-class British women as they travel to Palmyra to pay tribute to the warrior queen, Zenobia. Divided into six sections, one devoted to Zenobia and one on each of the five women, Improbable Women provides a fascinating glimpse into the experiences of these intelligent, open-minded, and free-spirited explorers.
This collection of twenty-three interviews and 120 accompanying photographs provides a glimpse into the lives of the women who are drawn to the magical power of water and life in Lake Placid, New York. These ladies include eighty-two-year-old Helen Murray, who converted her camp to a popular club after World War II; the eccentric yet practical artist Margo Fish, who hand-built the enchanting Tapawingo compound out of twig and stone; and scratch-golfer and financial-expert Sue Riggins, who lost her one true love but held onto her camp on the water. This book is for anyone who visits or appreciates the Adirondack area, spends time on the water, and enjoys learning about the serendipitous lives of women everywhere.
While renowned British novelist Margaret Drabble is recognized for her fiction, her connection to the theater is what inspired her to experiment with dramatic form. Drabble’s two plays, Laura (1964), a television play, and Bird of Paradise (1969), a stage play, delve into the domestic life and social class of women in the twentieth century. In editor José Francisco Fernández’s new critical edition, The Plays of Margaret Drabble, both plays are included and accompanied by critical essays which provide valuable insight into the historical and social context of each.
Fernández is a professor at the University of Almería in Spain. He is the editor of Drabble’s short story collection A Day in the Life of a Smiling Woman: Complete Short Stories, and is also a fan of Drabble’s writing. We interviewed Fernández about his latest project which explores the understudied body of Drabble’s work.
What inspired you to undertake this project?
I am very interested in the historical context that appears as a background to her novels and short stories. I knew that she had written two plays for the stage (one for TV and one for the theater) and when I read them I realized, first, that they were very good, and, second, that they reflected the ideological environment of a decade of changes in British history, the 1960’s, with great accuracy. I simply felt that these plays had to reach a modern audience.
What is the most surprising thing you learned while editing this collection?
I learned that the best way to be universal is by focusing on the local. The protagonist of Laura, for instance, is clearly a product of Drabble’s generation, a time when women were beginning to question the place they occupied in a patriarchal society. But, at the same time, the characters’ complaints can resonate in a myriad of situations today with any young mother feeling trapped in her assigned role. Margaret Drabble is able to capture the longings and the contradictions of female characters perhaps like no other contemporary writer.
Do these plays resonate with the current social/political climate? How do they reflect a very different era?
The protagonists of these plays do not blindly accept the tenets of the official discourse of the day; they are critical of the message transmitted from the spheres of power that were, basically, projecting a high level of conformity with what had been achieved by the welfare state. As individuals, these women feel that they do not want to conform and that they want to grow personally and professionally without being judged or classified into feminine stereotypes. In that sense, the plays are very modern, that questioning attitude is much in need today. The economic conditions of the day were very different, but the spirit is still valid.
What draws you to Margaret Drabble’s work?
I think she is an honest writer who bares her soul in every book, without subterfuges or tricks for the reader. The directness of her voice is what I find most compelling.
In what ways does her writing for the stage differ from her novels and short stories?
As an accomplished novelist, it is fascinating how Margaret Drabble immediately grasped the principles of theater writing… In her two plays, we actually listen to her female characters speak and explain themselves. There are, of course, dialogues in her novels, but here the medium is exclusively the spoken voice and it comes out with power and brio.
Convince someone to read Drabble’s plays in 50 words or less.
That’s easy; enjoy the pleasure of reading good literature. As an example, I’ll offer a quote from Bird of Paradise, when Sophy West, feeling the burden that is put on her shoulders, addresses the audience and says:
“It would be pleasant, of course, to think that these clichés had no relevance. It would be pleasant to dismiss them, pleasant to condemn their reiteration. I try to evade them, I evoke images to escape them – a golden bird, an emerald-green vest, a man who views me with neutrality – but it does not help me. History meets in my bones. It lifts my hand to pour the coffee at breakfast, it hardens my tones, it smiles in my smiling public face, it lifts my skirts and it bares my bosom. The bird flies away, alarmed by these mechanical snares.”
An Author’s View of a Regional Press
By Michael Doyle
Syracuse University Press has an encyclopedic grasp of the region it holds so dear. It’s the literal truth; you can look it up. Or, better yet, you can buy it. The Encyclopedia of New York State spans 1,921 pages and captures it all, from the Adirondacks to the Tappan Zee Bridge and beyond. Each entry is a doorway, one New York curiosity opening to another.
But here’s the thing. The publication of that colossus in 2005 did not initiate nor exhaust the Syracuse University Press’s commitment to the Empire State. Instead, it was but another blossom of that which was planted with the Press’s founding in 1943.
Consider this: The same university press that still offers decades-old but still-fresh fiction by Walter D. Edmonds, he of In the Hands of the Senecas fame, published in the fall of 2018 Rural Indigenousness: A History of Iroquoian and Algonquian Peoples of the Adirondacks by Melissa Otis. See what I mean? Season after season comes the regional harvest, new generations arising.
By my rough count, the Syracuse University Press’s catalog offers upwards of 100 New York state and regional titles, of every tang and texture. There are histories, biographies and memoirs. There are novels, essays and field guides. There’s New York poetry, for Pete’s sake, and a slice of Upstate cuisine.
Two of the New York-related titles are my own, so I can testify to Syracuse University Press’s regional devotion. In 2004, the Press published my first book, The Forestport Breaks: A Nineteenth-Century Conspiracy Along the Black River Canal. Of late, it occurs to me that the book illuminates how a locality grows ever-larger under a microscope, revealing new depths in a ‘see the world in a grain of sand’ kind of way. This is what a university press’s regional line can do: It starts with a tight focus and deepens, and deepens more, until all those grains resolve themselves into the big picture, the beach itself.
So it was with The Forestport Breaks, which begins with a forsaken town of 1,500 souls and then expands into what a 19th century lawman called “the most damnable conspiracy in the history of our state.” A book like this also illustrates how a region imprints itself on a university press, and vice versa. Inside Forestport’s former Hotel Doyle, now a frolicsome bar called Scooter’s, we held, hands down, the zaniest book-signing in the history of university press book-signings. Autographs may fade; such memories endure.
One thing leading to another, Syracuse University Press this year published my new book, another regionally-rooted work entitled The Ministers’ War: John W. Mears, the Oneida Community and the Crusade for Public Morality. It shows, again, how a university press committed to a particular locale can sink new wells where strangers see only worked-over rock. The 19th-century, ‘free-love’ Oneida Community in Upstate New York has been much written about; what more might be said? The editors, though, empowered my peculiar slant, a deep dive into the life and times of the zealous minister, a much-published college professor, no less, who fought Oneida. It’s a very granular look, indeed.
Unlike Tip O’Neill’s aphorism about politics, all university press publishing is not local. Syracuse University Press, for one, balances its New York state offerings with specializations in Irish Studies and Middle East Studies, among other topics. It’s the region, though, that bears the press, and it’s the region that the press so artfully represents.
Born in North Carolina by the Appalachian Mountains, Erin Fornoff now finds home in Ireland. As an author and avid poet who received an M. Phil in Creative Writing with Distinction from Trinity College Dublin, she’s performed at events across Ireland, the UK, and the US, and even co-founded Lingo, the first spoken word festival to appear in Ireland and for which she was Program Director. In the spirit of National Poetry Month, we interviewed Fornoff about her debut collection of poems, Hymn to the Reckless, and more.
1. What was the inspiration behind your collection of poems, Hymn to the Reckless?
The collection doesn’t really have one central theme, though it touches heavily on the path a life takes from a forest-filled childhood to a country across the ocean, and the reckoning of those shifts. It looks at ways we take risks and why and what happens when we do. It’s me trying to make sense.
2. You were born by the Appalachian mountains of North Carolina, and now reside in Ireland. How would you say this sense of home you find in multiple countries influences your writing?
It’s a hugely strong influence. I write about home constantly, and grapple with those choices—do I stay or go? Where is home and what does it mean and can it come to mean something different? A poet once told me that new poets write about their childhood until they exhaust it and then they move on to other topics. Perhaps I haven’t exhausted it yet. Identity is an inescapable theme in poetry and I find myself becoming more Irish and differently American, and yet never fully Irish and missing America, and poetry is probably my central vehicle for figuring my own muddled head out.
3. Is there any one thing you hope readers take away with them after reading your poetry, specifically Hymn to the Reckless?
Take a risk now and then. Find home wherever it springs up. And don’t be scared of going to spoken word shows.
4. What was the most rewarding aspect of creating this collection? The most difficult?
I was really touched by the process of having a publisher and editor. I had never had someone take such interest and care in my work, and be invested in making it as good as it could be. I found it really moving to be taken care of that way. I went to a writers retreat in a stone cabin on a cliff in County Kerry and sat, in a storm, with every poem I had written printed out or scrawled, and it was so cool to see them altogether, and turning into something (hopefully) greater than their parts.
5. Tell me about the poets who have influenced your writing.
I love Mary Oliver for her use of nature and the way she manages to pull off that rare trick of saying exactly what she means (sometimes) and it not coming across as heavy-handed or twee. I try and fail at this – I’m forever getting edited with people saying ‘You don’t have to draw a neon sign blinking HERE IS MY POETIC POINT.’ Others I love are Philip Levine, Danez Smith, Colm Keegan and Kate Tempest. Kate is a rapper, spoken word poet, playwright, and novelist, and her honesty and fierceness just bowl me over, every time.
6. Do you ever do spoken word? If so, what is it like to read your work aloud?
I started with spoken word and still feel most comfortable and energized by that space. I do around 60-80 gigs a year and it’s such a privilege. I love that communion between performer and audience. As a writer I get to explore the poems in a new way (and improve them over time) and I think they are experienced in a much different way by the audience. I love spoken word – and there is a great culture for it in Ireland. It’s the only place in the world I’ve been where a random person can stand up in a bar and start reciting a poem and the entire bar falls silent.
7. You’ve also written a novel. How was this different than writing poetry? Any advice for writers who find it difficult to switch between forms?
Ooooh it is so much harder. So much harder! You can dip in and out of poems and thus they kind of suit a small attention span, but a novel is a slog. You feel a bit like a crazy person, living in an imaginary world in your own mind. I would love advice for writers who find it difficult to switch between forms, because I am finding it difficult to switch between forms!
8. Where is your favorite spot to write?
I have a little desk in an art studio with a window and a blank white wall. Other people share the room, so there’s hubbub but not too much, and the desk is clear and ready.
9. What was one of the first poems or books you read as a child that you fell in love with?
I loved Shel Silverstein and used to be able to recite ‘The Perfect High’ from memory. All little kids books are essentially poems – so I guess I could say ‘The Runaway Bunny’? My favorite longer books were The Phantom Tollbooth and The Secret Garden, which I read until they fell apart.
10. What’s on your nightstand now?
Right now I’m reading Poet X by Elizabeth Agevedo, a cool melding of spoken word poetry and novel, as well as ‘Land of Lost Borders’ by my friend Kate Harris, about biking across the Silk Road. For poetry it’s ‘Flights Over Finglas’ by Rachel Hegarty.
If you don’t know who Ruth Colvin is, we’re here to tell you why you should.
Now 101 years old, Colvin will be the commencement speaker for Le Moyne’s graduation ceremony this spring. As a recipient of the Presidential Medal of Freedom and a member of National Women’s Hall of Fame, she’s also an icon to commemorate during Women’s History Month.
But let’s back track a bit… In 1962, Ruth Colvin founded Literacy Volunteers of America, now known as ProLiteracy Worldwide, an organization based in Syracuse, New York and dedicated to increasing literacy rates in adults. Having lived in Syracuse for some time, and as a graduate of Syracuse University, Colvin’s mission began within the snow-covered city. Just a few decades later, however, she has educated adults across the globe, and her organization has made its mark in about 30 countries.
In Off the Beaten Path, Colvin recounts stories of the people she’s met around the world. Traveling with her husband, she’s seen 62 countries. Dedicated to the power of lifelong learning, she’s also provided literacy training in 26 developing nations. Within her rich career, Colvin found the most rewarding aspect to be the connections she made with people from vastly different backgrounds, the values she learned from their cultures, and the similarities she discovered amongst all people.
A memoir of the people and places who impacted her during her travels, ranging from Madagascar to Cambodia, Colvin’s book is sure to open your eyes to the customs and values of the many societies and individuals who share our globe.
Alpine skiing, curling, figure skating – the Winter Olympics are full of snow-themed fun, but only for about two weeks. What are you supposed to do for the rest of winter? If you can’t get enough of the Olympics, we’ve got you covered. Check out our Olympic-themed books below:
In Tarnished Rings, Stephen Wenn, Robert Barney, and Scott Martyn tell the story of the Salt Lake City slush fund scandal of 1998-99. Following suspicion that these funds were used to obtain votes in the city’s bidding process, the International Olympic Committee (IOC) spent weeks under scrutiny. Delving into the IOC and the Olympic Movement, while also exploring the broader notions of leadership and crisis management, Tarnished Rings is sure to keep you entertained on a snowy day.
Diving a bit deeper into the world of business, Sports Business Unplugged features a collection of Rick Burton and Norm O’Reilly’s recent columns from the SportsBuiness Journal. Tackling current and complex subjects such as gender equity, diversity, and collegiate athletics, Burton and O’Reilly discuss the future of sports as well as their importance in maintaining a healthy and prosperous society.
Having been the Chief marketing Officer for the U.S. Olympic Committee during the 2008 Summer Olympics in Beijing, Syracuse University professor Rick Burton recently shared his perspective on what it was like to be a part of the Olympic Committee with the local news.
To get you excited about warm weather and the Tokyo Olympics in 2020, our forthcoming book, When Running Made History, shares the firsthand accounts of world-class runner, Roger Robinson, on the ways in which running has been interwoven with, and shaped by, recent history. Robinson recalls the victory of Abebe Bikila, an Ethiopian athlete in the Rome Olympics of 1960. He shares his unique perspective on the intimate intersection of history and running.
Whether you need more of the Olympics or simply want a day inside by the fire, these books are sure to offer you new perspectives on the long-running world-wide event.
Congratulations to author Susan Gordon, her latest book Because of Eva: A Jewish Genealogical Journey has won the American Society of Journalists and Authors 2017 Book Award in the Memoir/Autobiography category. Judges said, “the author nicely interwove history with her family story and her personal quest. We liked how the story flowed and how tightly it is written, and, as one judge noted, ‘It is a beautiful addition to Jewish/WWII work.’”
For the past few years, a simple but powerful phrase has dominated newspaper headlines, social media news feeds, and spoken conversations: Black Lives Matter. The activist movement began in 2012 after the murder of 17-year-old Trayvon Martin. The murderer, George Zimmerman, was acquitted for his crime, leaving Martin to be posthumously placed on trial for his own murder. Martin’s death sparked outrage both online using the hashtag #BlackLivesMatter and on the streets in the form of violent and non-violent protests. The highly-publicized deaths of Michael Brown in Ferguson, Missouri and Freddie Gray in Baltimore, Maryland spurred the anger and division already brewing in the public.
While the deaths of these teenagers have sparked a recent discussion of the prevalence of racism, racial profiling, and police brutality in the country, this type of violence has a long history.
In the essay below, Beth Roy, author of 41 Shots…and Counting: What Amadou Diallo Teaches Us about Policing, Race, and Justice, offers her own insight on the ongoing police violence and the polarization within our nation.
In the early 1990s, I wrote a book about white racism, linking it with disappointment in the promises of the American dream—Bitters in the Honey: Tales of Hope and Disappointment across Divides of Race and Time. A decade later, I explored the ways law enforcement came to over-predict the killing of black men by (mostly white) police officers—41 Shots…and Counting: What Amadou Diallo Teaches Us about Policing, Race, and Justice (published by Syracuse University Press).
In the last months, both those themes have dominated American politics and protests. Tilting left or right, toward Bernie Sanders or Donald Trump, anger at the failure of the state to accomplish economic security for 99% of the nation’s people—both working and middle class, white and people of color—produced an election campaign of extremes. Twisting through narratives of complaint pointedly by white voters was the plaintive cry: But, Uncle Sam, you promised! Since my study 25 years ago, I believe the nature of the promise has eroded somewhat under the continuous current of increasing wealth inequality. But for white people, it remains essentially the same: If we work hard, we are entitled not just to exist but also to prosper. Outrage about the betrayal of that bargain exploded in 2008 with the economy’s crash and the rise of the Occupy movement.
Now, Black Lives Matter is raising the fundamental, one might say “shadow,” question of whether people of color are even promised existence. White people may believe they are due affluence, but black people question whether they are entitled to even the most fundamental safety—from those police officers sworn to protect and serve.
These two protests, coursing through American life today, intertwine with each other repeatedly. But rarely do we read them as two currents in a single downward rushing river. I posit their inextricable unity: If black lives do not matter, white lives won’t prosper. Racism defeats the ability of the 99%, of all races, all heritages, all orientations, to truly call for the necessary changes to our polity. Without the understanding that racism undermines the rights of all citizens, we may occupy but we will not change the structures of our society that ensure inequality. As long as the social contract extends unequally to people of different races, there is no true social contract at all. White people’s anger can too easily be deflected toward those of a different social status, whether black or immigrant. The force of a unified citizenry to insist on right treatment is seriously deflected and does not succeed.
Those of us who write books, together with those who read them, need to play a role in making crystal clear how class and race bind like two strands of civil DNA. We are not the decisive architects of social change—that is the role of young people in the streets and in movement leadership. But our research, our advocacy for justice, our encouragement of those we teach to act on their convictions can make a valuable contribution.