Exploring the Unexplained: Stars That Pause: 2,000 Years of Asian UFO Encounters and Lore

 Stars That Pause: 2,000 Years of Asian UFO Encounters and Lore 

by Yi Izzy Yu and John Yu Branscum

Stars That Pause book cover

Author Yi Izzy Yu

Author John Yu Branscum

Many thanks (谢谢) to Empress Wu Publishers and Book Sirens for lending me an advanced copy of Stars That Pause: 2,000 Years of Asian UFO Encounters and Lore by Yi Izzy Yu and John Yu Branscum. Last year, in New Jersey, there were several weeks of speculation, fear, and wonder as reports of lighted objects in the skies were published across websites, newspapers, and social media. People shared their photos of the night skies, questioning what all of these crafts were. Were they drones, government crafts, or something from another world? Even the New Jersey government requested more information from the federal government, looking for more information and a rational explanation for all of this arial traffic. The lack of explanation for this phenomenon seemed to push some to panic and anxiety. Even my kids began to worry when looking at the night skies. However, this kind of strange phenomenon, witnessed by millions of people yet lacking a clear explanation is the kind of incident that Stars That Pause interrogates across history and cultures, using interdisciplinary theories and research to make meaning of unexplained or unidentified anomalous phenomena (UAP) that has occurred in different cultures for centuries. While I am interested in learning more about these kinds of unexplained mysteries, I thought this book would be almost like a catalogue or reference book that details unexplained events related to UAP in Asian countries throughout history. I previously read Zhiguai: Chinese True Tales of the Paranormal and Glitches in the Matrix, which was a collection of strange events and experiences of Chinese people in modern times. Although there was some brief commentary and explanation around the translated experiences, the book was a clever and fascinating collection of strange and unexplained events. I enjoyed reading the book and learning more about these experiences, seeing how some of these experiences were culturally relevant or similar to western phenomena and which were novel. However, Stars That Pause is a different type of book, one that challenged my thinking and drew from a vast array of multidisciplinary studies including history, psychology, and physics among others, to investigate and provide plausible explanations for how and why people experiences these kinds of UAP. Yu and Branscum provide useful instructions for how to read their book, which allowed me to take a different approach to investigating and thinking about the ideas they present. Their first section, “Sightings,” presents translated accounts of UAP sightings and encounters in different Asian cultures spanning nearly 2,000 years. The second section, “Discussion,” draws connections between the ancient accounts and the more modern encounters, tying the observations and encounters together. It is a useful section that provides some further context in understanding some of the cultural differences between Eastern and Western views of these phenomena. The last section, “Rabbit Holes,” which is also the longest section, provides about 20 different approaches, theories, or “rabbit holes” to delve to further explore these phenomena. I didn’t expect this book to be both scholarly and mysterious, but it balances both types of genres in a compelling and engaging way (almost like a yin yang, as the authors discussed in their exploration of Carl Jung’s own ideas about these kinds of shared phenomena and synchronicity). I really enjoyed this kind of novel application, taking unexplained events and using scholarly theories and approaches across many different disciplines to explain them. Furthermore, the authors made some really unique and interesting connections between UAP and other events, in particular in religion, spirituality, and anthropology. One of the chapters explored similarities between religious experiences like those of St. Theresa or Our Lady of Fatima’s appearance to children in Portugal. These experiences highlight not just unique encounters but also provide a religious and spiritual context for explaining sightings and unexplained occurrences. Furthermore, they highlight the nature of shared experiences and how these events might shape participants' perceptions of the events. Other chapters detail how shamans and their ability to navigate between the world of humans and spirits might also serve as an explanation for sightings and UAP. The authors note how many different accounts of shamans follow a particular script that aligns with some of the UAP they present in the first part of the book including suffering or an illness leading to an encounter or altered consciousness that provides new insights. Another chapter explores how culture and symbols also may affect our ideas about UAP and unexplained events. However, I found some of the sections on skepticism and doubt to be particularly interesting. The authors explore how doubt and skepticism is part of culture, but also acknowledge the kinds of costs associated with being more open minded to these kinds of phenomena. Nevertheless, they present several examples of well-regarded thinkers and intellectuals who pursued unexplained events, noting that this kind of open-mindedness about unexplained events is more akin to the intellectual tradition that leads to more discoveries than closing the door on unexplained events. There’s a lot to investigate and explore with this final section, and this part of the book left me with many thoughts and questions. I couldn’t stop thinking about the New Jersey lights in the sky last December, and how people were seeking multiple explanations, turning to conspiracies and willing to accept nearly any idea or explanation. Yu and Branscum’s book pulls on that thread, the human need to find definitive proof or a clear explanation for the unexplained but also offers several different ways to unravel these mysteries. I loved that they presented so many different theories and approaches, tying together different disciplines, examples, and theories to show how these strange events are experienced and perceived across different histories and cultures. This was a unique and fascinating book- one I will revisit. Highly recommended!

 

Candid, Bold Collection of Essays about Horror, Trauma, and Identity: Uncanny Valley Girls by Zefyr Lisowski

 Uncanny Valley Girls: Essays on Horror, Survival, and Love by Zefyr Lisowski

Uncanny Valley Girls book cover

Author and horror enthusiast Zefyr Lisowski

Many thanks to Harper Perennial and NetGalley for the advanced copy of Zefyr Lisowski’s collection of essays Uncanny Valley Girls: Essays on Horror, Survival, and Love. The title of this collection instantly intrigued me—I loved the play on Uncanny Valley and that the book is about horror and survival. As Lisowski mentions in her postlude, “horror is a love language, but maybe that’s because for me everything is a love language. Horror at its most intimate is a way to share the secret parts of yourself with others: what frightens you, what comforts you, what you’re repulsed by.” Lisowski’s collection is more of a personal reaction to horror- not only her own experiences sharing horror viewing with others, but also how these films related to events in her life. This collection is a deeply personal and at times traumatic exploration and reflection on what events shaped Lisowski’s life and identity, with horror films factoring into these events. Although these essays do not follow in the traditional film analysis, Lisowski does provide some context for the creation of some of these films and how films from the early 2000s reflected much of the violence that was happening around the world. In the second section of the book, the essay “War on Terror” focuses on the era of films like Final Destination and Hostel, and how Lisowski’s relationship with a boy unfolded and deteriorated through their shared interest in horror. One of the many themes that runs throughout these essays are how women in these films are both objectified- represented as vectors of violence that reflect the kinds of misogyny and hatred towards difference in society- and seen as survivors- the final girl trope whose smarts and morality are often rewarded with survival. While this aspect of horror films is something that many people can relate to, it seems like Lisowski’s experience as a trans woman whose identity was frequently questioned and challenged by peers and parents made her especially sensitive and receptive to these messages from horror films. While her friend enjoyed the violence, Lisowski relates more to the final girls in these films—those whose identities are sometimes questioned or challenged by the more popular and dominant cultures, yet ultimately are able to use this to their advantage to survive. It’s possibly one of the reasons Sally Hardesty of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre appealed to her more than other characters and also possibly why the remakes and sequels in this franchise were less appealing.

I appreciated Lisowski’s candor and bravery in many of these essays, baring her emotions and vulnerability. She does include a list of triggering subjects in each essay at the end of the book. I recommend using this to at least be aware of the subjects that she discusses in each of the essays since they can be fraught with topics like self-harm and sexual assault. While I noted Lisowski’s disclaimer at the beginning of the book, I don’t think it quire prepared me for how much brutality and self-hatred she experienced as a trans woman. However, I think that through reading about her experience and seeing how horror movies provided her with a kind of insight into the brutality of society and the strength of survivors, it helped me learn a little more about a frequently misunderstood group that receives a lot of undue scorn and violence. Other essays focus on Lisowski’s personal connections to films like The Ring and Dark Water, Black Swan, and Scream. I found the essay about Ginger Snaps “Preliminary Materials for a Theory of the Werewolf Girl” really interesting, especially since I recently read another essay about how werewolves provided Jennifer McMahon with more insight about her own sexuality and differences in the amazing collection of essays Why I Love Horror (edited by Becky Siegel Spratford). I hadn’t previously thought about this connection between werewolves and queerness, but it is interesting to consider about how changes, especially in puberty, can often make us feel so different and out of control. As Lisowski explains, these changes are often unwelcome and more often misunderstood by others who feel threatened and in danger. Yet, it’s ultimately the werewolves who suffer the most through their transformation and death. The other essay that I really enjoyed was “Uncanny Valley of the Dolls” which examines the life and work of Greer Lankton, a trailblazing artist who made dolls. I recently read Harron Walker’s great collection Aggregated Discontent, which is where I first learned about Greer Lankton. Lisowski’s essay is different, focusing more on her life than Walker’s essay, which focused on her transition to a female. Lisowski’s essay also focused on her work with dolls, described their likenesses to Lankton’s own struggles and challenges, including her eating disorders and drug addiction. Throughout the essay, Lisowski identifies with these struggles with mental health as a connection to Lankton’s life and work. I found this essay to be a great addition to Walker’s essay—although both writers focus on Lankton’s life and work, I felt like I learned even more about Lankton’s later life and her struggles and challenges and how these aspects of her life impacted her work.

Although some readers who are looking for more traditional essays analyzing horror films may feel a little bereft from this essay collection, there are plenty of personal horrors and trauma that Lisowski plumbs to better understand our often complicated relationship with violence and abjection we watch on the screen. This is a brave and bold collection where Lisowski fearlessly shares her experience and struggles with mental health, and uses horror as a way to both reflect and escape, to better understand her own trauma and to see pathways to survival. It’s not quite what I expected, but at the same time I feel like I learned a lot about different perspectives. However, I recommend checking out the trigger warnings at the end of the book as there are parts of the book that were challenging for even this horror fan to read. Nevertheless, this was a powerful collection of essays that I will revisit at some point.

 

Incredible Collection of Imaginative Pulp and Sci-Fi Art: Icons of the Fantastic

 Icons of the Fantastic: Illustrations of Imaginative Literature from the Korshak Collection edited by Amanda T. Zehnder and David M. Brinley

Icons of the Fantastic book cover, from Dulac's "The Snow Queen"

Many thanks to Rutgers University Press, University of Delaware Press, and NetGalley for the advanced copy of an incredible collection of pulp, sci-fi, and fantasy artwork from the Korshak Collection from the book Icons of the Fantastic: Illustrations of Imaginative Literature from The Korshak Collection. This was an incredible collection, and I thoroughly enjoyed the images, drawings, paintings, and other artwork selected from this incredible collection. I was not previously aware of the Korshak Collection, however, I love the art work from pulp novels, comics, and other works of sci-fi and fantasy. Beyond the amazing images contained in this book, I also loved learning about some of the artists prominently featured in the book, and especially about those artists whose work I was previously unfamiliar with: Hannes Bok, Margaret Brudage (my personal favorite), and Jose Segrelles, whose artwork for Well’s War of the Worlds influenced not only the film version’s spacecraft, but also apparently was influential on Guillermo del Toro’s films like Pan’s Labyrinth. In fact, del Toro introduces the collection with a brief essay explaining the importance of the Korshak collection and how curation and collecting are a form of education as well as reflection and understanding. Other early essays also provide some insight into how important curation and collecting are, especially in a field where the art may not have always been part of a canon or deemed art worthy. Stephen D. Korshak, the son of Erle Korshak who started Shasta Publishing, which commissioned or used much of the artwork for this book, explains how the collection not only imagines ideas, but also brings them closer to fruition, and how bringing these fantastic and unique visions to the public can further inspire new ideas and concepts. Furthermore, these early essays provide a brief history of the publishing of fantasy and science fiction and how the artwork not only was used for covers to sell issues, but also to attempt to accentuate the story and to bring the words of the authors to life for readers. I loved many of the essays in the book detailed the lives and works of the artists in the Korshak Collection, spanning an array of time. These essays covered not only the influences on these artists and the literary works they conveyed, but also how their work would influence later artists and shift the nature of the artistry for other popular pulp and fantasy publications. It’s hard to determine which essay is the best. They are all relatively brief, but provide a great amount of insight into the artists’ work, inspiration, and later influence on other artists. For example, the essay on Aubrey Beardsley “The Illustrator Who Would Not ‘Illustrate’” explains that he refused to use the word “illustrate”, but instead sought other terms like “embroidered,” “embellished,” and “pictured” to represent how his work contributed to the meaning of the text. I also found it fascinating to learn about how Beardsley sought to challenge traditions in art by combining seeming disparities in his work like including a satyr of Greek mythology in an edition of Le Morte d’Arthur, the 15^th century poem about King Arthur. The essay not only shared some thoughts about Beardsley’s artistic representation, but also that his work and life often challenged conventions of late Victorian England, like Oscar Wilde. I also loved learning about Arthur Rackham and Edmund Dulac, two artists whose work I’m sure I encountered, but didn’t necessarily recognize their names. Both artists worked with texts, myths, and folklore, and transformed the texts with their work. In particular, Dulac’s “Full Fathom Five”, which is from The Tempest is an incredible work of art. I really enjoyed the essay about Segrelles’s work as well, learning more about how his work not only enhanced texts but als music. However, I think that the essay on Margaret Brundage “First Woman of Fantasy Art” by Lisa Yaszek was probably my favorite. Two of the Brundage works from the Korshak Collection (“The Altar of Melek Taos” and “The Witch’s Mark”) both immediately stood out to me. Yaszek frames Brundage’s work as reclaiming women’s power in these texts, often showing women as “sheroes” and their contributions to the stories and tales (and many times other works of art) that often subjugated or relegated them to victims, damsels in distress, or supplements for the male main characters. Yaszek’s essay helps to show how Brundage’s artwork empowered women in these stories and eventually influenced the work of modern female artists. The book ends with a visual checklist of works in the Korshak collection. I was surprised to find works from Gustaff Tengrenn, whose work on some Golden Book classics my kids loved. I didn’t realize he was also a contributor to the Korshak Collection.

Stephen D. Korshak mentions that “Collectors, propelled by a guiding vision for their collections, introduce or reintroduce works of individual artists to new generations of art enthusiasts who, in turn, educate and/or inspire yet another generation of authors and artists…” a cycle that he says informs his ideas for the Korshak Collection. I agree that this book provides an excellent introduction to many of the artists and works in this particular collection, and helped me better understand not only the art of literary and pulp texts, but also how these individual artists contributed to the style and interpretation of literature, helping to enhance and convey meanings and themes in the texts. This is an excellent book not only for the amazing artwork, but also for the interesting and educative essays. Highly recommended!

Harry Clarke's The Pit and the Pendulum 1919

Frank R. Paul's Seeds from Space 1935

Howard Pyle's Sir Gawaine Sups with Ye Lady Ettard 1903

Margaret Brundage's The Witch's Mark 1938

JK Potter's Alive and Screaming (Piano Man) 1985

Virgil Finlay Fae in the Abyss 1940

Kay Nielson's Book of Death II 1910

Almos Jaschik's Carnival of Souls 1935

James Avati's Deathworld 1964

Edmund Dulac's Full Fathom Five 1908

Evocative and Engaging: Beartooth by Callan Wink

 Beartooth by Callan Wink

Beartooth book cover

Author and fly fishing guide Callan Wink

Many thanks to Spiegel & Grau and NetGalley for providing me with an advanced copy of Callan Wink’s evocative, exciting new novel Beartooth. I had read a few reviews hyping this book up, so I was excited to read it. Beartooth is the story of two brothers in their twenties, Thad and Hazen, who are trying to find their way making a living in the Montana wilderness a year or so after their father’s death. Their mother, a transient hippy-type figure, intermittently returns after finding seasonal jobs in California. These guys try to take the legitimate route of hard working, selling firewood to locals who can’t always pay them and the growing class of vacation home owners in Big Sky. However, like the narrator of Springsteen’s “Atlantic City,” these guys have debts no honest man can pay. The story starts off as the brothers attempt to extract a bear’s gallbladder, and they proceed to seek out a bigger payday for a more treacherous mission from the mysterious middleman who is only known as “The Scot”. Wink’s descriptive writing about the outdoors is transformative. He truly captures the different colors of the changing seasons, along with the sounds and smells of the outdoors. I’ve seen other reviews describe this novel as “sensorial,” and I agree that this is an apt description. There were even points where I cringed or shivered with the painful or cold descriptions of the harsh Montana wilderness that provides the backdrop for much of the novel.

Although there are several events within the book, Wink’s writing reminded me of another book set in Montana, James Welch’s Winter in the Blood, where the main character is somewhat aimlessly searching for himself. The book’s loneliness and isolation, as well as the inability to really connect with others reminded me a lot of Welch’s classic. I also kept thinking about Cormac McCarthy’s Child of God, and how much the loneliness and isolation of Lester drives him to retreat to the woods and create his own kind of fictional world. Similarly, both Thad and Hazen are adrift after their father’s illness and death. Thad, the more responsible brother, struggles to deal with the tax bill and the lien that is placed on their house. While Thad often wonders about what makes a man and a father, Hazen is slightly less interested and seems to take direction better, even if it involves doing things that are morally questionable. At one point, Hazen takes a job as a caretaker for sled dogs, and Thad notices that his brother brings home a foul smell on his clothes. Thad learns that part of Hazen’s responsibilities includes feeding the dogs dead, frozen mink. He also learns that the boss has asked Hazen to put down some of the sicker dogs. Although Thad questions Hazen’s pay for this job, it provides Hazen with some autonomy and sense of responsibility, which as readers will learn, leads to some more questionable actions. Nevertheless, despite the detailed descriptions, the events in the book don’t always feel well connected, and seem somewhat aimless, like both brothers’ quest to find themselves and their purpose. I felt like the best part of the book was the 2^nd quarter where Thad and Hazen look to make some money from the Scot through poaching elk antlers. Their quest through Yellowstone to navigate some of the park’s lesser travelled areas and haul a large amount of elk antlers was riveting and it kept me reading to see whether they would avoid the bears, rangers, and other dangers that the wild presented.

While Hazen and Thad are two different characters who seem to both compliment and contradict one another, other characters are not as well developed. The Scot felt pretty strange as a villain. I actually wasn’t sure if he was ominous or just kind of a weirdo, but he positions himself as an outsider by wearing a kilt and playing bagpipes. Similarly, I wasn’t sure what Sacajawea’s purpose was for much of the story. She seemed to be underdeveloped until the latter half of the book, but even then, her interactions with Thad and Hazen as their mother seemed strained. She did provide one of the more interesting lines in the book “We’re born in one spot and spend the rest of our lives trying to get back there.” It does seem like Thad is determined to stay in the house, and that he doesn’t want to interact with others too much. Towards the end of the book, he does speculate about settling down, but only after he can afford to do so. Sacajawea, likewise, always ends up returning, pulled from her home by work and the need for money, but always seeking to return even if her sons resent her absences in their lives. Readers learn more about why she left, as well as her own quest away from home and the trauma that sent her away in the first place. In many ways, her escape into the wild is kind of similar to Thad and Hazen’s own trips and escapades into Yellowstone after their father’s death. There’s something in the book, too, about the nature of death and loss and how nature can be a regenerative source for some. This book gave me a lot of think about—it’s somewhat quiet and a quick read, and above all else, there are beautiful descriptions of the wilderness. Other elements of the book including the plotting of events and some of the supporting characters, are not as well developed. Nevertheless, it’s worth the read, and I look forward to reading more from Wink.

 

 

Powerful and Relevant Essay Collection: Decolonizing Language and Other Revolutionary Ideas by Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o

 Decolonizing Language and Other Revolutionary Ideas by Ngugi wa Thiong'o

Decolonizing Language and Other Revolutionary Ideas cover

Author, scholar, activist Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o

Many thanks to The New Press and NetGalley for providing me with an advanced copy of Decolonizing Language and Other Revolutionary Ideas, Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o’s last book before he passed. Although I was saddened to learn about the passing of Kenya’s most prominent thinkers, writers, and advocates, I was excited to find this collection of writings and essays available for review. I greatly appreciate The New Press allowing me to review the book in exchange for my honest opinion. I first encountered Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o’s work in my undergraduate studies, reading A Grain of Wheat in an amazing World Literature course. A Grain of Wheat stood out as one of the most powerful and transformative books that I read. At the time, I hadn’t been completely familiar with Kenya’s fight for independence, but Ngũgĩ’s characters brought this struggle and its challenges to light in a meaningful and poetic way. Furthermore, my professor, Dr. Awuyah, made the readings so compelling and engaging, and A Grain of Wheat remains one of the most memorable from that course even years later.

I was also attracted to the title of this book as it focused on decolonization and language, two ideas that are incredibly appealing and interesting to me. The first part of the book, Decolonizing Language, focuses on that subject, providing examples and ideas of the power of the language and how colonization, and in particular language rules and imperialism seek to eradicate culture, beliefs and indigenous knowledge. Ngũgĩ provides examples throughout history of how countries sought to dominate and control through imposing a dominant language while limiting indigenous languages. It’s an important idea that is often neglected or forgotten, especially as more and more languages die every year. I was both surprised and excited to find that he used the example of Ireland as one of the first colonial linguistic experiments in Europe, and yet, he acknowledged that great Irish writers like Yeats and Joyce are often included in English literature Canons despite the attempted eradication of Gaelic, their native language. The idea of language and power is also represented in both writers’ work, as it is in other Irish authors like Brian Friel, whose play Translations, dealt with the kinds of issues Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o brings up about language, memory, culture, and the power of naming. While there are many important ideas and themes that emerged from Ngũgĩ’s essays, I found two to be highly important. First, “Language conquest, unlike the military form, wherein the victor must subdue the whole population directly, is cheaper and more effective: the conqueror only has to invest in capturing the minds of the elite, who will then spread submission to the rest of the population.” While Ngũgĩ is referring to nation and culture, I think this idea is relevant and applicable to our current situation in the US, and in many ways further represents the kind of cultural and generational shifts that are occurring through different means of communication as we shift into accessing more information through social media and other digital formats. In many ways, it feels like there is a kind of linguistic battle occurring where forces are arguing about the nature of facts, representation, accessibility, and knowledge. I appreciated Ngũgĩ’s call to continually keep language and culture alive through reading, writing, and orality. The other idea that seemed highly important was pulled form historical examples in British colonies, especially in India, where English became “the language of education in order to form a class of ‘interpreters between us and the millions whom we govern, a class of persons Indian in blood and color, but English in tastes, in opinions, in morals and intellect.’” While Ngũgĩ’s examples represent the colonial use of education to create an educated class that still remained separate from the ruling class, with some privileges, yet never completely integrated, it’s also reminiscent of much of the ideological battles that are occurring now in education, and how the dominant culture currently in power is seeking to reshape American’s access to education with spurious claims of ideological capture and indoctrination. It almost seems like there is an invention of pseudoscientific terms to create fearmongering in order to shift ideologies. We see how language and education are used in these kinds of ways to dominate and eliminate ideas that are deemed threatening or counter the ruling class. Nevertheless, Ngũgĩ notes that “The colony of the mind prevents meaningful, nationally empowering innovations in education,” which seems to be the goal. Rather than innovate and encourage free and critical thinking, we are moving more towards this kind of colonial mentality where recitation and memorization are more important than independent thought and ideas. Actually, Ngũgĩ differentiates between education, which he notes as more like conditioning and knowledge, which he defines as an addictive element to an individual.

Another great essay in the book focused on the role of the University in a Global Community, and again, I felt like there was so much to take away and apply from this essay. It’s also interesting to see the university from Ngũgĩ’s perspective, as someone who helped shape disciplinary studies in African and American universities, calling for the shift away from “English” departments to “Literature” departments that sought to be more inclusive and diverse. As he notes “the university has a great role to play. Just as the university hosts different disciplines, which, while pursuing their particularity, should be in dialogue with one another, the university should be the modern patron of an intellectual discourse among languages and cultures. No university should be proud of monoculturalism or monolingualism. Building bridges between even apparently irreconcilable viewpoints is an important function of the university.” I loved this quote and this entire essay that focuses on the ways in which universities provided additive knowledge to students in order to further enhance their perspectives and viewpoints. Although Ngũgĩ’s experience, fighting for the inclusion of African, Asian, and other writers not often represented in the canon, is different, his words are a reminder of how powerful the role of the university remains in American life, and the ways that current policies are intending to shift towards this kind of monoculturalism and, as Chimanda Ngozi Adichie warns, the dangers of a single story. If anything, Ngũgĩ’s words and essay are an important reminder of how powerful and transformative the university can be both on an individual and a societal level.

The second half of the book, from chapters 7 through 20, focus on “Voices of Prophecy,” and discuss many of Ngũgĩ’s contemporaries and colleagues. I’m not sure whether the chapter on Achebe was meant to be funny, but Ngũgĩ discusses how after Things Fall Apart, every African writer became Achebe, where even he and his son were both mistaken for Achebe. It’s a funny story, but also somewhat troubling in that a scholar of African literature didn’t even know what Achebe’s age or appearance were like. Other essays detail his relationship to other well-known African writers, and their struggles writing in English or switching to their native languages. Ngũgĩ’s experiences as a political prisoner in Kenya are also a reminder of how powerful and subversive literature can be, and how the artist can also be a source of resistance and rebellion against politically powerful individuals. There is a lot to consider in these chapters as well, and I enjoyed learning more about Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o’s career and collaborations with other writers, especially as he sought to diversify Literary studies and make them more inclusive.

This was an excellent collection, one that I will revisit and would consider using for the classroom. There are many great essays in here, and I as someone who studied African literature in college, I found these texts particularly relevant and meaningful. Furthermore, Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o’s experience challenging the colonial mindset—seeking to decolonize not just nations, but also mentalities, is an important reminder about the role of language and knowledge in this kind of colonizer mindset. I was surprised and excited at how relevant and powerful these essays are in the current landscape. Highly recommended! 

Challenging Punk Stereotypes and Misconceptions in Punk Spirit!

 Punk Spirit! An Oral History of Punk Rock, Spirituality, and Liberation by John Malkin

Punk Spirit! book cover

Author and journalist John Malkin

Big thanks to Bloomsbury Academic and NetGalley for providing me with an advanced copy of John Malkin’s interesting and insightful new book Punk Spirit! An Oral History of Punk Rock, Spirituality, and Liberation. I’m always interested in books about music, and especially those that examine genres like punk rock. Punk Spirit! follows in the tradition of some other great oral histories about punk like Please Kill Me, American Hardcore, and Our Band Could be Your Life in that it explores specific time periods in this music’s evolution through the words and experiences of those who were integral in creating the music, styles, and pushing its trajectory in different directions. John Malkin is a journalist and radio host whose extensive experience interviewing punks from across the world enables him to paint a colorful and diverse image of the varieties of punk rock. Not only do readers gain a comprehensive understanding of how spirituality, including both religion and social activism, has shaped punk rock over the past 50 years, but they will also see how Malkin and his subjects repeatedly push back against the stereotype that punk is a nihilistic and agnostic trend. Rather, Malkin’s subjects and his questions help to show how much of punk was shaped by constant questioning, questing, and rebelling against the currents, trends, standards, and norms that society often embraces, or in some cases, that the state enforces. I found this to be interesting especially considering how a lot of the 80s punk rock in America was rebelling against the Reagan republicans and the religious right that emerged. However, the first half of the book examines different aspects of spirituality and how the push for social justice and equality, challenging inequities in society, created a different kind of spiritual ethos in punk rock. Although this first half was a little less focused than the second half of the book, it was still interesting to hear from many punk luminaries and how their own views and ideas on spirituality challenged the dominant view that punk music was either nihilistic without any kind of hope or guidance for the future, or was completely individualistic and hedonistic—I’m thinking about the Circle Jerks song “Live Fast Die Young” or the sad examples of early deaths like Darby Crash, whose addiction seemed to snuff out an interesting, bright light. Malkin includes considerable interviews with Penelope Spheeris, whose Decline of the Western Civilization helped to capture the contradictions and worldviews of Crash, and these interviews present a different kind of side of Darby and the whole Germs movement. It was interesting to think more about how much punk rock relies on the same kind of community and fellowship as a church or religious movement, yet it isn’t always viewed in that kind of perspective. This was one of the themes that emerged from the first half of the book.

The second half of the book I liked a little more due to the focus for each of the chapters. While I enjoyed reading the chapters in the first half, I wish there was a little more contextualization or commentary from Malkin where he might provide some explanation of how he planned to organize these quotes and interviews. These earlier chapters did have titles and they seemed focused, but the quotes and interviews weren’t always set up or connected with other quotes, so it was a little hard to follow at times. The second half of the book dealt more with specific scenes and movements within punk rock. Beyond being more focused, I felt like I learned so much from these chapters. Although these chapters get really into the weeds, Malkin does provide more context and detail either from participants or scholars who researched these movements. For example, Chapter 11 “Church from Below” examined the East German Punks whose movement remained underground due to state surveillance and repression from the Stassi. Since the state could not prosecute religion, religious punk bands were able to play shows in churches and evade the same kind of scrutiny that other secular or political bands might face. Other chapters detailed the intersection of other religions and punk rock including Buddhism, Christianity, Islam, and Judaism. It was cool to learn more about Krishnacore and the whole 80s and 90s hardcore movement with Revelation Records since I remember seeing a lot of these albums, but not really being that into the music and really kind of questioning those Shelter album covers that featured Hindu deities. Books like American Hardcore got into earlier straight edge and vegetarian/Krishna bands like the Cro-Mags, but these books didn’t get too into their beliefs and ideas or how they influenced the later bands that emerged in the late 80s and 90s. It was interesting to learn more about them, as well as other movements to involve more spiritual practices in punk music like mediating and yoga. I also liked learning more about Michael Muhammad Knight, an author I’ve always wanted to check out and someone who I associated more with hip-hop than punk rock. It was interesting to learn more about how he more or less invented a punk rock style/genre that some even question whether it is real or not. Regardless, Chapter 23 details Haram and how Muslims use their experiences as minorities in punk rock to question inequality, racism, and racial profiling. Nader Haram’s own experience growing up Muslim in NYC post-9/11 was both heartbreaking and inspiring to see how he used punk rock as a means to challenge the kinds of inequality and Islamophobia he experienced. Although I felt that the latter half of the book was more focused and provided more context and explanation on the specific chapter’s focus, the earlier chapters are still interesting since they are largely comprised of the words of punk rock participants. Highly recommended! 

Essential Reading for Understanding These Strange Times

 The Alien and Sedition Acts 

introduced by Qian Julie Wang

The Alien and Sedition Acts book cover

Author and legal scholar Qian Julie Wang

Many thanks to Random House, The Modern Library, and NetGalley for providing me with an advanced copy of The Alien and Sedition Acts, introduced with an inciteful and timely essay by Qian Julie Wang. Although this book is primarily comprised of the 4 acts that make up the Alien and Sedition Acts from 1798, Wang’s introduction is helpful in understanding just how contested and problematic these acts are. I found her history and critique of the acts to be especially timely in that we’ve heard so much about the current administration’s justification for many of their suspension of rights by using the Alien and Sedition Acts. While most people are outraged by these abuses of power, the dominatrixes at the center of these policy decisions point to the authority of these acts, initially proposed in the early days of the nation, as a means of justification. Seeming to point to originalism and tradition, they seem to assume that the populace will accept this as fact. Wang’s history, analysis, and critique of the Acts demonstrate how vastly unpopular it was with some of the most important figures in America’s foundation. From Thomas Jefferson’s skepticism and critiques to James Madison’s own private concerns about these “laws”, readers can understand many of the fundamental flaws of these acts and how they subvert democracy and freedom for all by concentrating power into the hands of a few. 

Although Jefferson had his own flaws, it’s surprising that not many reference his concerns about these acts when they’ve been brought up as a justification for the loss of due process and the threat of removal of habeas corpus. Wang quotes Jefferson critiquing these acts with “confidence is everywhere the parent of despotism—free government is founded in jealousy, not confidence,” and I appreciated these words to better understand the initial aims of the coalition of states that eventually became our union. In many ways, Yates’ own words nearly 120 years later about the Irish Revolution echo Jefferson’s concerns “The best lack all conviction, while the worst are full of passionate intensity.” Although we need rules and laws, do we really need to be governed “by a rod of Iron”? Wang cites numerous examples of the Alien Enemies Act being used to justify exclusory immigration laws like the Chinese Exclusion Act and other caps on immigration that lasted until the 1960s. She also discusses this act in one of the darkest periods in American history, the Japanese internment that followed the bombing of Pearl Harbor. Although there isn’t too much mentioned in the years that followed 9/11, it seems like the Bush regime also sought to stretch out these Acts to justify limiting rights and invasive practices like the Patriot Act. 

Wang’s historical analysis and critique eventually bring us to today where she critically examines the specious declaration of war on Tren De Aragua, a transnational gang originating in Venezuela, that suddenly seems to be at war on America, despite no attacks, no arrests, and no soldiers in our nation. Rather than think soundly about strategy or policy, the stable geniuses suddenly tasked with governing America seem to suffer from the kind of cognitive limitations that children engage in before they’ve mastered formal operations. There are strong markers of centration, where there is fixation on one feature to the exclusion of other possibly more important features and concerns. Likewise, there’s an egocentrism that seems to assume that the public will be on board or accepting because either the tasks have been justified with prior authority or because there’s some kind of mandate with winning the popular vote. It’s also clear that there’s a sense of irreversibility in that mistakes are job-losing offenses and that once immigrants are slated for deportation, there’s no challenging the state. I don’t want to get too off-task since this essay and the Acts themselves have challenged me to think more about the many problems with their justifications. I was really surprised to learn how much many of those responsible for the founding of the nation found problems and issues with these Acts. 

It’s hard to determine what is most pressing when all of these acts attack our fundamental freedoms in many different ways and in ways that privilege those in political power. As Wang demonstrates with historical analysis, the Sedition Act is a limitation on freedom of speech and freedom of the press that largely seeks to stymie anything critical of those in power. However, it is the suspension of habeas corpus that seems to be the most significant threat today. Wang notes that even within the act, section 2 requires the president “to first make the alien available to courts competent jurisdiction and afford ‘full examination and hearing’ to establish ‘sufficient cause’ for removal- legal procedure that the Trump administration flagrantly ignore.” Although it has been documented, the administration clearly acted criminally with malicious intent to subvert even this subversive law, prohibiting the law for aliens despite no precedent. Again, maybe it’s the cognitive limitations of those tasked with interpreting the law, but it’s clear what this act says. Maybe the administration hoped that the public would remain indifferent or uneducated about the law. However, thanks to publishers like Random House who have provided not only the full text of these acts, but also resolutions in Kentucky and Virginia that challenged the limitations of rights that these acts imposed, as well as Wang’s critical analysis, the public can better understand the misinterpretations of these flawed and problematic Acts. 

While I can understand that some might not enjoy reading the dry legal 18th century writing that these acts and resolutions contain (it’s not an easy read), I ended up appreciating the contents to help better understand the context of the Acts and the challenges to them that followed. It’s also helpful in understanding why these acts are rarely invoked. Although these acts are problematic, I found it somewhat ironic that within Section 1 of the Sedition Act, there is clear language that implicates many individuals who participated in January 6th along with the complicit legislators and the current president in activities that 

 “impede the operation of any law of the United States, or to intimidate or prevent any person holding a place or office in or under the government of the United States, from undertaking, performing, or executing his trust or duty, and if any person or persons, with the intent as aforesaid, shall counsel, advise or attempt to procure insurrection, riot, or unlawful assembly, or combination, whether such conspiracy, threatening, counsel, advice, or attempt shall have the proposed effect or not, he or they shall be deemed guilty of a high misdemeanor….” 

It was surprising to read this, and although I suppose that rioting and insurrection could be in the eye of the beholder, it seems like much of the purpose of the Stop the Steal events of 1/6 were to impede official acts and intimidate lawmakers. Nevertheless, this collection that pulls together these Acts clarifies their problems and issues. While I can appreciate the need to counter challenges early in the nation’s history, Wang’s analysis identifies the ways that these acts were abused and misused to consolidate power and limit any kind of criticism. Despite these concerns of a young, insecure nation, it seems like we are revisiting and reviving some of the most egregious instances of injustice in our nation’s history. If anything, it’s not only a historical analysis, but also a warning and an offer for how to defend our rights against the abuse and misuse of a problematic Act. Essential reading for understanding and resisting these unprecedented times. 

Local Philly Horror Novel: Werewolf Movie

 Werewolf Movie by Stephen St. Francis Decky

Werewolf Movie book cover

Author and Artist Stephen St. Francis Decky

Many thanks to Books Go Social, Frayed Edge Press, and NetGalley for providing me with an advanced reader copy of Werewolf Movie by Stephen St. Francis Decky. I requested this book because it was listed as a horror novella set in South Jersey and Philly in the late 80s. Plus the title sounded really cool, and the cover is somewhat haunting a sparse, so this book had me intrigued. Werewolf Movie may have been the strangest book I’ve read this year, but it was also a fascinating book that appealed to me on some different levels. Although there were a few scenes of horror, the story is more of an existential horror, questioning one’s path and wondering about one’s identity- who are we? What drives us to create and reach our maximum potential? How do we let people, jobs, and social expectations keep us from reaching this potential? This brief book has left me with many questions to think about, and how we may let social expectations and acceptability compromise our vision and goals.

The thing I enjoyed most about this book was the setting- the late 80s in Philly and South Jersey. Although I was expecting more of a horror story, the book didn’t really start to introduce the more traditional horror elements until about 60% into the story. There is a great deal of exposition, and as someone who has seen lots of shows with my friends’ bands at the Khyber, Upstairs at Nick’s (RIP), and The Pontiac Grill (formerly Dobbs), it was fun to read about the Bee Plasm, Rick Owen Band, and Crank Top shows at these music venues. I also loved the band names and songs St. Francis Decky created for this story. It was fun reminiscing about not just the diverse Philly music scene, but also a time of youth and disposable time—when I could go to shows regularly, see my friends play in all kinds of places, and witness the creativity in making music and art. This book really took me back to that period in my life during and after college. I liked reading about the different characters lives outside of the music scene as well. They all faced different, and somewhat humorous challenges in their lives, yet seemed to decide to live simply in order to accommodate their lives around music. They all worked jobs that allowed them play in shows at night and record music in their off days, until Rick loses his job due to his boss’s death, or as the author writes in one of my favorite lines “He lived, at the hospital, until eight o’clock last night.” I had to read that one a few times to understand that the boss was dead. The characters seem to eat simple foods like toast and eggs, grilled cheese or cheese sandwiches, until a mysterious record company executive promises Rick Owens that he will be large if Rick decides to work with him. Once Rick begins meeting with Donnie, the record exec, things take a dark turn, and Rick and his friends begin to witness things outside of their selves. It’s a creative way of looking at the werewolf myth, and I loved that St. Francis Decky brought in the Chatterbox from Ocean City as well, a place I’ve spent some late nights also questioning how I arrived there, just like Dale.

Although this book was a great dose of nostalgia and made me reflect on my own life choices, there were some elements of the book that I didn’t enjoy as much. For one, the characters all kind of talked and thought in the same way. St. Francis Decky provides clear annotations about whose perspective is represented, but they didn’t have too much in their dialogue or thoughts to really make them seem completely different from one another. There wasn’t much voice given to each character, and maybe that was part of the choice, especially considering that Dale notes at the end of the book that he needs to listen to his own voice now. Other characters like Rick bemoan how much other’s music sounds derivative and poppy, like everything else on the radio. Gia was like the only character who really seemed to have a somewhat different perspective, and seemed to deeply care about Rick. Frankie, who disposed of his grandma’s body when he finds her dead, also had a more unique voice since he was somewhat fearful and apprehensive, but somehow once he dumps his grandma’s corpse, overcomes that fear. However, I felt like many of the characters had the same voice. Also, the characters mainly spoke their thoughts, but didn’t really add too much description or detail to the surroundings. Whether it was the music or maybe the artwork, I would have loved to learn more about the scene that these people were a part of. Even offering more descriptions of the characters would have been interesting. There were some descriptions of Donnie, the devilish record executive who offers Rick a deal he cannot refuse, but other than that, the characters seemed to start each sentence with “I…” Nevertheless, I enjoyed this book and it made me think. Since Donnie offered Rick a contract and a way to promote his music (or at least that is what I assumed, we never learn exactly what is in the contract) in return for Rick’s creativity and songwriting, I kept thinking about the old Beck song “Satan Gave Me A Taco,” where Beck ends up tempted by Satan’s food, and somehow ends up as a drug addicted rock star. Maybe this was part of the message of the book that the kind of popularity and acclaim from art often comes at a cost- whether it is one’s voice or their true self. However, the book seemed more like Faustian/Robert Johnson kind of story than a werewolf story. This is quick and interesting read, and if you are from the Philly area and love music, then this is a great book to read to reminisce about some of the old music venues that are no longer around. I loved, too, that he referenced WPRB and the 3^rd Street Record shop, two influences on my own musical development and interests. However, I did want to note that the Pontiac Grill was mentioned a few times, but the Pontiac was Dobbs until the early/mid 90s, so there wouldn’t have been a Pontiac during this book. Nevertheless, I loved the reference since some of my favorite bands played there, and it was always a fun time. Highly recommended!

Connecting the Dots on Two Unsolved Murders: Sisters In Death by Eli Frankel

 Sisters In Death: The Black Dahlia, The Prairie Heiress, and Their Hunter by Eli Frankel

Sisters In Death book cover

Author Eli Frankel

Many thinks to Kensington Publishing and NetGallery for sending me an advanced copy of Eli Frankel’s exciting new true crime book Sisters In Death: The Black Dahlia, The Prairie Heiress, and Their Hunter, which takes a new look at infamous murder of Elizabeth Short, also known as the Black Dahlia. In particular Frankel’s book seeks to link Short’s gruesome murder with another murder six years prior in Kansas City, MO. While he presents some interesting and compelling circumstantial evidence, it’s hard to say that the evidence definitively points to Carl Balsiger, a man who seemingly had connections to both victims and was in both locations at the time. I’m relatively new to the case of the Black Dahlia murder, but I recently read Leila Taylor’s amazing book Sick Houses, which discussed another suspect of the Black Dahlia case, Dr. George Hodel, and the house he lived in. Taylor’s book piqued my interest in the case, and Frankel’s book provides a detailed look at Short’s brief peripatetic life and focuses on the last few months leading up to her disappearance and the gruesome discovery of her body that eventually changed Los Angeles. However, prior to discussing this case, Frankel presents the details of the case of Leila Walsh, a young, popular girl from a prominent Kansas City family who was brutally murdered in her room. Frankel’s writing is compelling and engaging. Her does well detailing the character and life of Welsh and her family members to create a sense of empathy and understanding so that when Frankel describes the murder, it is truly shocking and brutal, not only for the gore and violence, but also in how her loss impacts others with whom she was close. One of the other aspects of Frankel’s writing that I enjoyed was that he contextualizes the politics of Kansas City to better understand the kind of corruption that was pervasive in the politics of the time. This kind of bias and shoddy criminal investigation allowed the focus to point to Welsh’s brother, who didn’t really have a valid motive (they claimed it was for Leila’s cut of the inheritance) nor was there much evidence that pointed to him. However, Frankel’s detailing of the fallout from Leila’s murder shows the depths to which some prosecutors might sink to either punish perceived enemies or try to bring a show trial to appease the kind of public angst that often follows these brutal and well-publicized slayings.

The next section details Elizabeth Short’s life and times leading up to her murder. While Leila Welsh lived a somewhat privileged life and attended college, Elizabeth Short’s life was starkly different, and her vast travels and somewhat nomadic existence seems almost like it wouldn’t be possible today. In some ways, Short reminded me of another conspiratorial and mysterious figure- Lee Harvey Oswald, whose strange and itinerant lifestyle only added to his mystique after his violence and death. However, Frankel also does well to contextualize the historical times that Short lived in, and his writing also helps to challenge some of the myths about Short’s life that have perpetuated since her brutal murder. In fact, Frankel regularly defends her life in the ways that some of Short’s own acquaintances did. Her notes that Short avoided drinking and drugs, and was not highly sexual, especially since some of the reports seemed to suggest that Short was promiscuous. Rather, Frankel paints the picture of a young woman whose abandonment from her father and whose loss of a fiancé in a plane crash left her adrift and emotionally distant, wanting to connect with others, but also somewhat hesitant to develop deeper bonds. Frankel’s treatment of Short also presents her as naïve and too trusting in some ways, which may have been her downfall. As I was reading this book and learning more about who Elizabeth Short was, I couldn’t help but wonder whether David Lynch based Betty (a nickname Short used at times) from Mulholland Drive on this case. Betty, whose naïve and cheerful midwestern appeal is contrasted with her dark doppelgänger who seems to live amongst the trash in LA’s underbelly, seems like she shares many similarities with Elizabeth Short. Regardless, Frankel’s writing, especially his characterization from his research into Short’s life and times, elicited a lot of connections from me.

The last section of the book details Carl Balsiger, a scion of a prominent grocery and bakery family from Kansas City. Despite coming from a semi-aristocratic background, Frankel paints Balsiger as a failure in many ways. Filled with character flaws, Frankel presents us with an individual who only experiences success during World War II in developing a baking system that provided bread and nourishment to soldiers in the Pacific. I wasn’t aware of this topic in the war, but Frankel presents fresh baked bread as one of the factors that may have tipped the pacific campaign to the Americans. Although Balsiger used his background experience in food service to support the American effort, it seemed like every other opportunity he had in America was wasted and Balsiger could never live up to his father’s expectations. Throughout these chapters about Balsiger’s life, Frankel presents instances where Balsiger may have participated in violence against women and family members. For one, Balsiger’s sister died in a mysterious drowning incident when they were children. The implication from Frankel was that Balsiger could have been responsible since there was no real investigation into the details. Furthermore, Balsiger was involved in strange paddling incidents in college, suggesting that this showed his early proclivities for violence against others. Frankel also presents instances where Balsiger seemed to hover around the periphery of Leila Welsh, attending the same college and living just blocks from her. Balsiger’s connections Short are more significant, and he was viewed as a suspect in her murder, although he was never officially charged. I can’t say whether I know Balsiger is guily or not, but Frankel presents some compelling research and details, both circumstantial and evidentiary, to make his case.

I enjoyed this book and read through it quickly, often wanting to continue reading the chapters to find out what would happen next. Frankel’s writing is engaging, and he does well creating a historical context as well as some deeply engaging and human characters based on the historical records, artifacts from the case, and even interviews with family members and relatives of those involved in these cases. Although there is some evidence that points to Balsiger’s involvement especially with Elizabeth Short, his connections with Leila Welsh seem more tenuous. Nevertheless, it is an interesting connection to examine. At times, Frankel’s reporting and contextualizing can go a little too far. There were a few times when I lost track, especially with the Short section, when there were many different individuals involved. The only other aspect of the book was the brutality of the murders. Both murders were incredibly violent and graphic, and Frankel’s writing goes into depth about the violence and brutality. I’m usually one who enjoys a good scare, but maybe because these events really happened, I found myself gasping at the descriptions of the victims’ murders. Regardless, this was a compelling read, and it made me want to read more about the Black Dahlia case, especially to see what kind of evidence might point to other suspects. While Frankel makes an interesting case, I’d like to explore some other theories related to this case. Nevertheless, this is a really good book that I highly recommend.