bluuebunny/crossref_metadata_2025_split huggingface dataset:
The Prohibition of Images and the Iconoclastic Controversy
Authors: van der Leeuw Gerardus 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
The prohibition Of Images We have seen how the pictorial arts, outside their existential context, lose their distance from their subject and devote themselves more and more to representation of human feelings. For this reason, they maintain only an external connection with religion, Thus the mind which has become “modern” loses its ability to see anything in the pictorial arts other than the expression of the human. This brings about an important transfer: at first, the prohibition of images was explained by the danger of reproducing the holy, the divine, thus bringing it into an immediate, terrifying proximity; but now the prohibition is motivated by awe in the presence of the divine being, This awe is intended as a protection against humanizing the holy, thereby robbing it of its strength and impairing its immediate effective ness. Man muse not make any graven image, because the god confined in the image will harm him, says primitive man. He must make no likeness, because the god which he so represents is capable of nothing, says “modern” man. The prohibition of images underwent this transfer early in the history of Judaism and Islam. The prohibition in Exodus 20 is based in Deuteronomy on the intangibility of the form of God, who speaks but remains invisible (Deut. 4:15 ff.).
The Transitional Structure
Authors: van der Leeuw Gerardus 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
Liturgical Music Becomes “Church Music” Beautiful sound reinforces the power of beautiful words. Singing is more effective than speaking. We saw this in our discussion of poetry (p. 129), and shall return to it. Our modem times have almost forgotten this fact, There are people who complain about the “unnaturalness” of opera, perhaps because the hero sings while he breathes his last, or, in naturalistic works, sings when he asks for a glass of beer. There are al o people and basically it is the same complaint-who complain about the “unnat uralness” of non-Calvinistic worship, in which the priest sings the Creed, the prayers, and the Gospel. This comes about because singing has be come a specialized field which has certain “anistic value,” but may not be brought into direct continuity with life. One does not sing at home when one wishes to have a cup of tea, or when one dies, marries, or otherwise does something that is “a part of life.”
“Laffin’ Fit Ter Kill” Black Humor in the Fiction of William Wells Brown and Charles W. Chesnutt
Authors: Carpio Glenda R 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
African American oral culture is rich in tales that use humor to represent the violence of slavery. The trickster animal tales featuring Brer Rabbit and Brer Fox, first popularized by Joel Chandler Harris in Uncle Remus, His Songs and Sayings: The Folklore of the Old Plantation (1880), are but one, albeit complicated, example. The tales, in which weaker animals like the Rabbit often outsmart stronger ones such as the Fox through wit and cunning, allegorize the great imbalance of power between master and slave and the ways that the enslaved found to sabotage it. As Mel Watkins notes, the tales “probably represent” the slaves’ “most aggressive and cynical view of white America” short of physical rebellion. Yet Harris, a white journalist who collected the tales (and therefore did help to preserve them), defused them of their critical edge by presenting them as amusing stories that Uncle Remus, a faithful retainer “who has nothing but pleasant memories of the discipline of slavery,” would recount to a little white boy, the son of plantation owners, for entertainment. While the tales depict anthropomorphized animals that kill and maim each other brutally, Harris claimed that the stories depict only the “roaring comedy” of animal life. White southerners laughed, amused by the Rabbit’s guile and cleverness. The enslaved laughed too, but for very different reasons. As scholarship has shown, slaves used the tales not only to release aggression but also as a medium for turning southern racial taboos on their head. Thus, while they laughed at Rabbit’s elaborate tricks, they made the Fox, usually the hero of European trickster stories, the dupe of the weak and repeatedly staged his violent death.
Conjuring The Mysteries Of Slavery Voodoo, Fetishism, and Stereotype in Ishmael Reed’s Flight to Canada
Authors: Carpio Glenda R 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
In the late 1960s, when Richard Pryor temporarily abandoned the stage and his life in Hollywood for a period of introspection and reassessment in Berkeley, he met and befriended Ishmael Reed. Characteristically, this period was not in any sense monastic or sober for Pryor. Instead, it was a period in which, as jazz musicians put it, he “woodshed” his material in an atmosphere that was both inspiring and intoxicating. Pryor found the drug culture of late 1960s Berkeley a haven for his fierce appetite for cocaine and other drugs. He also befriended a group of young black writers, among them Reed, Cecil Brown, Claude Brown, David Henderson, and Al Young, who were (and many of whom remain) deeply committed to racial equality and who, besides being tremendously talented, were known for using their acerbic but disarming humor to protest racial injustice. Pryor was then transforming himself from his original image—a slim, mildmannered comedian with conked hair who had risen to some prominence with material patterned after Bill Cosby’s—to the revolutionary comic performer who would bring the power of black street humor to mixed audiences and use it to critique his country’s long history of racism. The young writers Pryor befriended in Berkeley would encourage and support his evolution, influencing his style and encouraging him to take the risks required for developing it.
The Tragicomedy Of Slavery In Suzan-Lori Parks’s Early Plays
Authors: Carpio Glenda R 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
Judging by the subjects and titles of Suzan-Lori Parks’s plays, particularly the early ones, one might conclude that the playwright has a somber imagination. Her first major play, Imperceptible Mutabilities in the Third Kingdom (first produced in 1989), concerns some of the most painful aspects of New World slavery. “Open House,” the second section of this play, involves a dying slave whose teeth are extracted mercilessly as she recalls a life of dispossession. A character named Miss Faith extracts the slave’s teeth while she remembers two children to whom she served as a primary guardian and who may or may not have been her own and a master who may or may not have been the father of the children; the play purposefully leaves this ambiguity open, as if to suggest the intimate levels of oppression in two intersecting and often inter-changeable stories, that of the mammy and of the slave mother. Parks’s second play, The Death of the Last Black Man in the Whole Entire World (1990), by title alone suggests a dark topic. Its titular figure vividly recounts his own death by lynching and electrocution. Similarly, her third major work, The America Play (also produced in 1990), presents the repeated shooting of a black man.
A Town Springs Up
Authors: Ben-Zvi Linda 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
When J. M. D. Burrows stepped from “the magnificent steamer Brazil” that brought him up the Mississippi River from St. Louis on July 27, 1838, he looked out on a scene that delighted him. “The sloping lawns and wooded bluffs, with the sea of beautiful wild flowers were a picture of loveliness such as I never had beheld before.” After concluding his business in Rock Island, the town originally settled by Colonel George Daven port in 1832, he decided to take one of the wooden flat boats across the Mississippi to the “beautiful little hamlet of fifteen houses, with a population of about one hundred fifty people,” which Antoine LeClaire had first plaited in 18 35, called Davenport in honor of the colonel.
Families in Fact and Fiction
Authors: Ben-Zvi Linda 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
Unlike her husband, Susan never formally traced her family’s lineage, but its history had a great impact on her. If the first generation provided a reified version of pioneer life, the next generation deconstructed the tale. While her grandfather Silas may have been a fine horticulturist, he was not a good businessman. At his death, little remained of the original family tract, and it was finally disposed of in 1882, when his widow Susan came to live with her younger son Elmer and his family, including six-year-old Susan. In the Glaspell line the men were less physically robust than the women and died sooner. In the case of Silas and Elmer, they also showed signs of mental as well as physical breakdown years before their death. Although depression at the time was deemed a “female ailment”-news-papers running numerous advertisements for remedies to “cure the ladies of their disposition”-it was the Glaspell men who suffered from a mental state far more debilitating than such euphemisms imply. Silas’s obituary indicates that after years of “nervous attacks” he was “glad to go, and so he died because he was literally worn out.”1 Elmer Glaspell, Susan’s father, was even less of a businessman than his father and seemed less mentally able to withstand the stresses he encountered. He worked at a number of trades-farmer, teamster, contractor, and hay and straw wholesaler-but for the last six years of his life he, too, would be an invalid, after suffering a “severe mental breakdown.” Susan seems to have had her father.
Travel at Home and Abroad
Authors: Ben-Zvi Linda 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
After the required two years “of solitary confinement,” as he called it, Jig was granted his divorce from Sara at the end of January 1908; and in early spring, he finally married Mollie Price. Floyd stayed on at the Cabin to greet the newlyweds on their return from their Chicago wedding. Only one year younger than Mollie, he was immediately drawn to the young woman who, with great vigor, threw herself into the role she was expected to play. In fact Mollie was double cast: as the wife of an iconoclast poet-cum-farmer, a socialist like herself, indifferent to bourgeois values, living on the outskirts of staid Davenport, and as the wife of the scion of a distinguished family, who had not decided himself which script he was going to follow. In Homecoming Floyd describes Mollie when she arrived, “happy and sparking and delightfully talkative.” But soon-under the pressure of societal approbation, immediate pregnancy, and life with her thirty-five-year-old, brooding husband-a new Mollie emerged. “Marriage had tamed this wild bird,” Floyd observed. It was one thing to be an anarchist and advocate free love from afar, quite another to fit this philosophy into the Iowa she encountered.
“Though Stone Be Broken”
Authors: Ben-Zvi Linda 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
What Jig had omitted from his letter was that Mollie was once more pregnant, but that fact did not alter his determination to end the marriage. A young wife who suffered from morning sickness, fatigued by caring for a toddler, and frustrated by her inability to recapture her own sense of vitality and self was hardly the muse Jig needed. Susan was ready and willing to provide a different kind of inspiration. At first, they were discreet. Their meetings were ostensibly to discuss his stalled novel and her new one. Soon, however, they took on a project that provided them opportunities to be together under the guise of social action. During the winter of 1910, the Labor Lyceum of Davenport sponsored a series of Sunday lectures. The speaker at the February 14 meeting, presided over by Jig, was Rabbi Fineshriber, whose talk “A Study in Religious Liberty” outlined the gradual encroachment of religious institutions in secular life and warned of such creeping theocracy. It was Susan who stood up at the end and described an example of just such an encroachment in the community. Recently the library board, appointed by the mayor, had voted to censure head librarian Marilla Freeman’s request for the purchase of a highly praised book entitled The Finality of the Christian Religion, written by George Foster, professor of the philosophy of religion at the University of Chicago. A newspaper reporter attending the lecture printed Susan’s criticism of the board, and it became the opening volley in what came to be known in Davenport as the “library controversy.” Responding
Staging Area for the Future
Authors: Ben-Zvi Linda 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
While Jig was waiting for his divorce, Susan spent most of her time writing and traveling. Although her family and Jig’s were not yet aware of their affair and their intention to marry, she was slowly disentangling herself from Davenport and home and moving physically and psychically closer to New York and the life they intended to establish there. She met with publisher Frederick A. Stokes to see about the publication of The Visioning, which appeared in April 1911. It is dedicated to her mother, and the epigraph, taken from Proverbs 29 reads, “Where there is no vision, the people perish.”
Interlude R Greenwich Village, 1913: The Joyous Season
Authors: Ben-Zvi Linda 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
The spring of 1913 was a perfect time to start a new life, and Greenwich Village was the perfect place to do it. Other midwestern writers, artists, political activists, and seekers of change, like Susan, were heading there for many of the reasons that had motivated the original westward thrust: new opportunities, new freedoms, and new frontiers to conquer. As Ruth Holland explains in Fidelity about her own decision to restart her life in the East: “There were new poets in the world; there were bold new thinkers; there was an amazing new art; science was reinterpreting the world and workers and women were setting themselves free. Everywhere the old pattern was being shot through with new ideas. Everywhere were new attempts at a better way of doing things.” Besides, Holland adds, in New York City-unlike Freeport, “Nothing is mapped out.”
War and Peace
Authors: Ben-Zvi Linda 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
Susan and Jig returned to Greenwich Village for the winter of 1914 but continued to consult realtors in Provincetown, looking for a cottage to buy. In the middle of May the Provincetown Advocate-which always referred to Susan by her married name-announced that “Mr. and Mrs. George Cram Cook have returned from New York and will occupy the Roseboro cottage, their last summer’s residence during the coming season.” Soon after their arrival, however, they purchased a home of their own, at 5 64 Commercial Street. It remained Susan’s residence for the rest of her life. In appearance it was typical of the houses in the area: a one-and-a-half-story Cape Cod “half-house,” resembling cottages in Corn-wall and Devon. Katie Dos Passos, who later lived across the street with her husband, John, described such houses as deceiving. “They seem frail but are sturdy, look small but are larger than they look, they are plainly built out of plain materials, and their chief beauty is their proportion.” The entrance, situated on the side, led immediately into the dining area; to the left was the living room/sitting room, facing the street and running the width of the house; to the right was a large rectangular kitchen. Between the two rooms, facing the door, were enclosed stairs that led to the second-floor sleeping rooms above the parlor and dining room. Behind the house was space for a garden.
A Theatre on a Wharf
Authors: Ben-Zvi Linda 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
Just after New Year’s Day 1915, while Susan was still in Davenport, Jig wrote to tell her of the latest buzzing in the Village. A group calling itself the Washington Square Players had been formed and was planning to produce plays; they had even asked him to perform. “I said yes. You know I harbor a belief that maybe I can act.”1 Since he arrived in New York, Floyd had been in charge of play offerings at the Liberal Club, written by him and performed by a group nicknamed the “Dell Players,” including Helen Westley, Sherwood Anderson, Edward Goodman, and Kirah Markham. The audience, all Village friends, were greatly amused by the clever parodies of themselves and their lifestyle, and most seemed unconcerned by the lack of production values. However, there were some who longed for more. The 1911 Abbey Players tour of America had shown what theatre could be. Robert Edmond Jones had seen the Irish company and marveled at its skill in moving an audience: a fisherman’s house evoked by the mere placement of a net; peasant women indicated simply by bare feet and homespun skirts. Returning from Berlin, where he had worked with the legendary director Max Reinhardt, Jones dreamed of creating “images of magni-ficence” instead of the recipe-theatre he found on Broadway.
Summer 1916, Two Playwrights
Authors: Ben-Zvi Linda 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
It seemed that everyone in Greenwich Village wanted to get to Provincetown one way or another in the summer of 1916. Harry Kemp, the self-proclaimed tramp poet, who had a keen sense of where things were happening and an inflated appreciation of his own work, put an ad in the New York Times in May, asking for the use of a cottage there in exchange for “the manuscript of a well-known poet, an unpublished volume of verse. Leaser would receive any royalties that might accrue from the volume.”1 There is no record of how many responses Kemp received, but John Francis arranged for Kemp and his wife, the actor Mary Pyne, to stay in Francis’s Flats, the studios above his grocery store. Whether money changed hands is doubtful; Francis’s usual arrangement for impoverished writers to whom he took a fancy was to ask, “Oh, twenty-five dollars from now until the snow flies.” Francis provided similar rooms under similar terms for Eugene O’Neill in the following years and became his devoted friend, taking charge of repairing and renting O’Neill’s property, paying the taxes, securing domestic help, and handling other problems that came up. He fulfilled the same services for Susan and for other writers and artists. His grocery store was their meeting place, a sign entreating and inviting: “Please loaf in the rear.” Selling for him was less interesting than listening to the stories and ideas of those who gathered there.
A New Kind of Theatre
Authors: Ben-Zvi Linda 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
Susan returned alone to Provincetown to put the house in order and to plan for the next several months. She and Jig had talked vaguely about spending the winter in Dobbs Ferry, New York, with the Hapgoods, Jig making the trip into the city from there and Susan joining him occasionally. After their separation, the idea sounded less appealing to both, despite its financial benefits. However, as she had been in 1914, Susan was hesitant about joining Jig, either an indication of recurring tensions or her ongoing concern about money. “Of course I want you to live in New York with me.... I feel terrible cut off from the Little Bear,” he assured her soon after he settled into his temporary quarters in one of Jack Reed’s rooms at 43 Washington Square South. Jack had offered the place because he and Louise were now living in the house he had just purchased in Truro. They became the first of the Provincetown crowd to seek the quiet of this smaller nearby community.
Inheritors
Authors: Ben-Zvi Linda 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
Now that she was on “sabbatical,” Susan had the luxury of stepping back from the daily demands of the Players to think about new directions. “The Nervous Pig,” one of the two stories she wrote during the summer of 1919, explores this question of “busyness” and what happens to a person when “the mechanics of living ate life up.” The protagonist is a scholar who nervously burrows in details “in order to deepen his knowledge of life,” only to find he has somehow forgotten to live. He is like the pig of the title, who, nervous over motherhood, has eaten one of her young. For Susan, too, during the past few years, the mechanics of establishing and running the theatre had made it impossible for her to do much else. She and Jig were now free to break this pattern. One thing they did was to buy a Model Ford to start enjoying the surrounding areas on the Cape. Susan approached the car with much trepidation as she did all mechanical things that required that she do something with them.
Picking Up the Pieces
Authors: Ben-Zvi Linda 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
Susan arrived back in the United States on March 16, 1924. She went first to Davenport to see her mother. She then spent a month with Lucy and her husband Eddie Goodman in New York, finally returning to Provincetown with Lucy to reopen her house and restart her life without Jig. Hardly had she time to unpack, however, when she was embroiled once more in an issue that had been simmering during her time away: the future of the Provincetown Players and her relation to the theatre. While she and Jig had been in Greece, Edna Kenton had acted as faithful proxy, keeping them apprised of the ongoing struggles on MacDougal Street through scrupulously detailed accounts, which would have done credit to any war correspondent. During the 1922-23 season, the Players had signed a two-year lease for the theatre at 133 MacDougal Street and had sublet it the first year. In the late spring of 1923, the lease once more reverted to them, and they once more had to decide who would occupy the space and what the group would be called. In June 1923, Edna reported that four of the seven corporation signators now wished to take over the theatre. She backed this move, arguing that it was better to allow them to do so than to return the property to Mrs. Belardi once and for all. Unlike other groups who had wanted to run it, they at least had some connections to the past and some claim to the name.
Novel Times
Authors: Ben-Zvi Linda 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
Now that The Road to the Temple was behind her, Susan was anxious to return to fiction. In preparation she began avidly to read new novels-and there were many from which to choose. In the three years since her return from Greece, Willa Cather had published The Professor’s House, My Mortal Enemy, and Death Comes to the Archbishop; Virginia Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway and To the Lighthouse; F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby; Ernest Hemingway, The Sun also Rises; and John Dos Passos, Manhattan Transfer. All, with the possible exception of Cather’s, were examples of a new sensibility at work, a modernist bent, addressed to a postwar audience that no longer looked for, or believed in, one universal order or overriding belief system or ideal to guide their lives. Susan held to the idealist notion that love might meliorate the alienation of the present period and provide a lost generation with a compass pointing home. Rather than plots with complications and clear resolutions, these novels presented fragments of daily life and personal relationships without any attempt to systematize or explain either. For Susan, such writing was interesting, even admirable, but not what she wanted to do. She had begun her career as a newspaper writer at the beginning of the century, and she still believed in the efficacy of stories and the truths derived from them. She might believe that “Life, too is combinations that baffle classification,” and she might desire to break forms and move her women characters out of confining circles, but as far as her fiction went, she was still wedded to traditional structures.