bluuebunny/crossref_metadata_2025_split huggingface dataset:
Steven T. Katz
Authors: Katz Steven T 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
Steven T. Katz was born in Jersey City, New Jersey, on August 24, 1944, into an orthodox Jewish family. He received a traditional yeshiva education in his youth and then went on to receive his B.A. from Rutgers University (New Jersey) in 1966, his M.A. from New York University in 1967, and his Ph.D. from Cambridge University, England, in 1972. He began his teaching career at Dartmouth College in 1972. In 1984 he moved to Cornell University where he chaired the Department of Near Eastern Studies and directed the Jewish Studies Program. In 1996 he was invited to become the director of the Judaic Studies Program at Boston University, a position he still holds. He has also been a visiting professor at, among other universities, Yale, the Hebrew University, and the University of Pennsylvania. His scholarly work has been concentrated in three areas: (a) modem Jewish thought; (b) Holocaust studies; and (c) comparative mysticism. In the first he has published, among other studies, two collections of essays, Post-Holocaust Dialogues: Critical Studies in Modem Jewish Thought (New York, 1983) and Historicism, the Holocaust, and Zionism: Critical Studies in Modem Jewish Thought and History (New York, 1992). In the area of Holocaust studies he is the author of a multivolume study entitled The Holocaust in Historical Context, volume 1 of which appeared in 1994 and volumes 2 and 3 of which will appear shortly. In the area of comparative mysticism, Katz has edited and contributed to four collections of original essays, as well as an anthology of mystical sources, all published by Oxford University Press.
The Past is a Foreign Country
Authors: Holmes David L 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
What, then, is definitely known about the religion of the founding fathers of the American republic? Tirree months after the death of James Monroe, Bird Wilson, a professor at the General Theological Seminary in New York City-the oldest theological seminary in the Episcopal Church-preached a sermon purporting to answer that question. His credentials for providing the answer were excellent. Wilson’s father, James, was himself a founding father.
The Conjurer Recoils Slavery in Richard Pryor’s Performances and Chappelle’s Show
Authors: Carpio Glenda R 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
Bicentennial Nigger, Richard Pryor’s 1976 album, is simply brilliant. It brims with a sharp, eviscerating humor through which Pryor highlights his country’s founding contradiction: its profession of democratic principles despite its history of racial oppression. True to Pryor’s style, none but the last track assumes the serious tone of that objective. The first track, in fact, features Pryor imitating a hillbilly screaming at the moment of orgasm, and the second depicts Pryor’s varying degrees of success in satisfying the sexual appetites of both black and white women. Using his trademark ability to mimic cartoonish but clearly identifiable “white” and “black” voices, Pryor sets off a raunchy play of stereotypes. White women are docile: they consent to sex easily, don’t complain if they do not reach orgasm, don’t put up a fight when they are physically threatened, and are happy to stay at home when their man goes out in the evening. Black women, by contrast, are assertive and intractable: when their men announce that they are going out, they start getting ready too; they fight right back when their men threaten them with violence and refuse to give oral sex but complain when they do not achieve orgasm. After unsatisfactory sex one of them says (in Pryor’s imitation of a sassy “black” woman), “Nigga, that’s some sad dick!”
“A Comedy Of The Grotesque” Robert Colescott, Kara Walker, and the Iconography of Slavery
Authors: Carpio Glenda R 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
In 1936, when Ralph Ellison was new to the New York milieu in which he would eventually become a novelist, essayist, and critic, he was invited by Langston Hughes to see a Broadway production of Erskine Caldwell’s Tobacco Road. The play, on whose white, poor, and rural characters Caldwell had satirically placed “the yokelike” stereotypes then commonly associated with African Americans, provoked such a wild fit of laughter in Ellison that at one point he, rather than the play, became the center of the audience’s attention. Years later, in an essay appropriately titled “An Extravagance of Laughter,” Ellison recalled the freedom the play unleashed in him—then freshly arrived from the South—to laugh at the stereotypes that had always signified the harsh realities of discrimination and the ever-present potential for crude violence in his life. For, in the world he had just left, Negroes were seen as ignorant, cowardly, thieving, lying, hypocritical and superstitious in their religious beliefs and practices, morally loose, drunken, filthy of personal habit, sexually animalistic, rude, crude, and disgusting in their public conduct, and aesthetically just plain unpleasant . . . [They] were considered guilty of all the deadly sins except pride, and were seen as sometimes the comic but nevertheless threatening negative image to the whites’ idealized images of themselves.
Brown’s Indirect Effects
Authors: Klarman Michael J 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
Counting the number of black children attending desegregated schools is only one way—and perhaps a rather poor one—of evaluating Brown’s importance. Countless scholars have asserted Brown’s broader significance, calling the decision “the most important political, social, and legal event in America’s twentieth-century history” and “the foundation of our quest for equal justice in the United States.” More specifically, observers have claimed that Brown “launched the public debate over racial equality,” “raised black awareness,” “stimulated black hope,” and “awoke a new activism within the black community.”
Brown’s Backlash
Authors: Klarman Michael J 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
Whatever its connection to Brown, a powerful direct-action protest movement had exploded in the South by the early 1960s. Sit-ins, Freedom Rides, and street demonstrations became a regular feature of southern life. When law enforcement officers responded to such protests with restraint and (even unlawful) arrests, media attention quickly waned, and demonstrators usually failed to accomplish their objectives. This is how Sheriff Laurie Pritchett defeated mass demonstrations in Albany, Georgia, in 1961–1962 and how Mississippi officials defused the Freedom Rides in the summer of 1961. By contrast, when southern sheriffs violently suppressed demonstrations with beatings, police dogs, and fire hoses, media attention escalated, and northerners reacted with horror and outrage. It was the brutality of southern whites resisting desegregation that ultimately rallied national opinion behind the enforcement of Brown and the enactment of civil rights legislation. Brown helped to bring that violence about.
Brown, Violence, and Civil Rights Legislation
Authors: Klarman Michael J 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
Before the Freedom Rides, Birmingham, Freedom Summer, and Selma (discussed below), some of the most violent racial episodes in the South involved school desegregation. Virtually every year after Brown, school desegregation generated violent resistance somewhere: Milford, Delaware, in 1954; Hoxie, Arkansas, in 1955; Tuscaloosa, Alabama; Clinton, Tennessee; Mansfield, Texas; and Clay and Sturgis counties, Kentucky, all in 1956; Little Rock, Arkansas, and Nashville, Tennessee, in 1957; Clinton (again) in 1958; New Orleans, Louisiana, in 1960; Athens, Georgia, in 1961; Oxford, Mississippi, in 1962; and Birmingham, Alabama, in 1963. Thus, in addition to radicalizing southern politics in ways that enhanced the likelihood of racial violence, Brown created concrete occasions for such outbreaks.
Society Girls
Authors: Ben-Zvi Linda 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
In 1891 the Glaspell family moved into the house that was to remain their home throughout Susan’s life, and which still stands today, at 317 East 12th Street, on the bluffs of Davenport, a few blocks from the crest. It was a white-wood, two-story, five-room house, set back from the street. The front sitting room was a good size and was heated by a large fireplace; behind it was a combination dining room and kitchen. A steep flight of stairs led to three bedrooms, the back one Susan would later turn into her study, since it afforded a glimpse of the Mississippi. The immediate neigh borhood was middle-class, but within walking distance were the large mansions of the Fickes and Frenches, the leading families in town, who would also produce writers. In order for Susan to get to her high school, she would pass by these opulent Victorian homes, taking the same route her protagonist Irma Lee follows to school. As a protection against rejection, Irma immerses herself in the stories of her pioneer grandparents and imagines herself a queen still ruling “all the land between here and Scott Street.” Susan may have had many of the same feelings she attributes to Irma; but instead of masking her thoughts, she found an outlet to express them through her writing, positioning herself as the outside observer of Davenport society, able to satirize and expose the foibles of its lifestyle.
The Genesis of Trifles
Authors: Ben-Zvi Linda 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
Besides writing humorous columns and covering the state legislature, Susan often reported on court cases, particularly sensational ones that involved sex, scandal, and murder-and there were many. The Iowa of 1900 may not have been more violent than it is today, but it certainly was no less so. Sandwiched between ubiquitous advertisements for “Female Nerve Cures” and romantic accounts of the courtships of Vanderbilts and Rockefellers were a whole range of lurid tales that would keep a contemporary tabloid busy and happy. But, of all the cases reported in the News, the one that stands out from all the rest, both for the extended length of its coverage and its vivid detail, is the Hossack murder case, in which a mother of nine children was accused of hatcheting her husband to death while he lay in bed asleep. Susan covered the case and it became the source for her masterpiece Trifies and its short story offshoot, “A Jury of Her Peers.” The case at first glance seemed simple. Sometime after midnight on December 2, 1900, John Hossack, a well-to-do farmer, was stuck twice on the head with an ax, while he slept in bed.
Chicago
Authors: Ben-Zvi Linda 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
“Chicago is many things to many people and to me it is a place where you can write,” Susan jotted down in notes for an autobiographical essay in the late 1930s. By then the city was like a second home to her; however, in the summer of 1902, when she enrolled at the University of Chicago, it was more foreboding than familiar. Holding sway at the time were Robert Herrick, William Vaughn Moody, Robert Lovett, Henry Fuller, and Clara Laughlin, the first generation of Chicago literati, whom the critic Bernard Duffey dubbed the “Genteel writers.” Eight years later, after winning major prizes for her short stories and publishing an acclaimed first novel, The Glory of the Conquered, set in Chicago, she would return there and be welcomed by a quite different group-Vachel Lindsay, Edgar Lee Masters, Sherwood Anderson, and Floyd Dell-who constituted the second generation of Chicago writers. In 1902, however, she was a twenty-six-year-old graduate student with a few published stories, a budding celebrity at home but an unknown in the largest city she had lived in to that date.
“Here Pegasus Was Hitched”
Authors: Ben-Zvi Linda 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
At the end of May, while Jig stayed on in New York, participating in “a couple of all night drunks with millionaires” ostensibly designed to raise money for the new theatre, Susan returned to Provincetown to open the house for the summer. These summer periods were her time for short-story writing, still her steadiest source of income, since play royalties were only just beginning to trickle in. For the rights to do Suppressed Desires, the rate was fifteen dollars, or ten dollars if admission were not charged; for each story, she could expect to receive at least $350.
Alison s House
Authors: Ben-Zvi Linda 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
Even before Fugitive’s Return was released, Susan turned her attention to a completely new project. Mary Vorse, who was spending the summer in Provincetown, recorded her friend’s enthusiasm. “Seeing Susan in those days when she was first plunging her mind into Emily Dickinson’s story was seeing a creative force at work.” Vorse left by the end of August and did not return until the following summer, so if she were present at the genesis of Alison’s House, as she claims in Time and the Town, that means that Susan had already conceived of the idea as early as the summer of 1929, while she was alone, during Norman’s sail. By February 1930 she had completed the play, and sent it off to the Theatre Guild. In April she received the news that they had rejected it. “It was disappointing,” she wrote to Clark soon after, “but that disappointment was very much eased by your feeling about the play.” In the same letter she thanked him for suggesting that Samuel French, where he worked, might want to print it, but hesitated to do so until it was produced.
A Different War
Authors: Ben-Zvi Linda 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
Susan returned to Provincetown in the summer of 1938 and appeared, in Edmund Wilson’s estimation, “much better for her years in the West,” although she “seemed to have resigned herself to become an old lady.”1 At sixty-two, she was grayer, more lined, and frailer than she had been in the early 1930s, but she was more determined than ever to work. She was also happy to reconnect with friends, particularly Katie and John Dos Passos, and she showed her old commitment to activism when, as one of her first acts, she formed a “defense committee” to block the local beach club from buying the house next to them and opposite her.2 If Susan had forgotten the sea and the special winds of the Cape during her time in Chicago, she was reminded of the potential fury of both in September, when one of the most severe hurricanes of the century slammed into land near New Bedford, throwing out all communication with the Cape. Many residents believed the Cape to have been flattened by the severity of the storm.
Completing the Circle
Authors: Ben-Zvi Linda 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
Despite the disappointing reception in the first months of 1943 of Norma Ashe and war news that was growing more ominous, Susan was determined to keep working. She now threw herself into a project that she kept secret from her friends until it was completed. It had been thirteen years since she’d written for the theatre, and she decided that she needed to try her hand once more to see if she could still create dramatic plots and dialogue. “Springs Eternal” is the result, a comedy about war, in which three upper-middle class couples banter about love, faithfulness, raising children, philosophies of life, and only parenthetically the carnage abroad. In Norma Ashe, Susan had observed, “War could be gallant, but there was nothing gallant about the petty wars of so-called peace, this constant war between people, trying to get ahead of somebody else, when that someone else had a life a good deal like your own.”2 In her play she stages this “other war,” but instead of indicting big business or commercialism, she focuses her attention on the love lives and embroilments of her characters and the older generation’s moral failures. “We have entangling alliances; we are always busy breaking our pacts,” the central female protagonist, Margaret, claims.
“Old Man Mccorkle”
Authors: Tidwell John Edgar , Sanders Mark A 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
It was over ten years ago that he stalked out of the past up the walk to my house. He wore a greenish “jim-swinger” coat, pipe-stem trousers a bit too short, large heavy-soled shoes, a piece of cloth folded around his neck, and a crushed old felt hat. His dark brown face, fringed with gray, had what some would call an aristocratic cast. He looked a little like Jefferson Davis. His hair was frizzled gray; his slightly receding mouth was nearly toothless. In gestures and manners he was truly aristocratic. He walked so erectly that he seemed to be about to topple backward. He had come to Missouri from far away North Carolina. We soon got to be friends. He announced himself as “an arrow in the quiver of Lord God Jehovah’s power,” and he was eloquent enough for such. After we had won each other’s confidence, he did not resent, he even welcomed, my taking notes on his talk. He ate heartily for all of his near toothlessness, stripping a pork chop with ease and neatness. He was a great drinker of strong coffee. He was eighty-four years old. He boasted that long before freedom he could read, learning partly from his mother whom his memories reconstructed into a superior person, partly from the questions in the catechism, partly from the grandson of the McCorkles, who were “kind to their colored folks.” Most of the other slave owners whom he recalled were hardly “rickommendable.”
“A Harvardian Goes South”
Authors: Tidwell John Edgar , Sanders Mark A 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
He could not help speaking with the Back Bay Accent. He had been bred in Boston and educated at Harvard, majoring in the classics. Inevitably, of course, in order to get a job teaching he had been forced to come South. He was a goodlooking, brown-skin fellow, slight of frame and rather aristocratic—Harvard-Yardish—in bearing. So the odds were strictly against him when he stated to the gas-attendant that he had been short-changed fifteen cents. A Yankee was bad enough, but a brownskin Yankee was hated at compound interest. The gas man, over his first shock, said to a loafing kid, “Hand me my blackjack.” Then waving the ugly weapon, he said, “You get out of that car. Now unlock your gas tank.” The loaded blackjack hovered, ready. The gas tank was full. The attendant turned on the stream of gas, played it over the gas tank, over the rear of the fenders, over the spare. Some few drops struck the Bostonian’s well shined collegiate shoes. When the figures on the meter read fifteen cents the hose was turned off.
“I Look At The Old South”
Authors: Tidwell John Edgar , Sanders Mark A 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
I am not much of a sightseer, but since I was born and bred in Washington, I know my share of monuments and memorials. There are some that call up for me the antebellum and Civil War past: the old homes of Georgetown ranging from such beauties as Dumbarton Oaks to the cramped brick houses hugging the sidewalks; the groundworks of Fort Stevens where Lincoln curiously awaited Jubal Early’s raiders, Ford’s Theater where he was shot, all of the Lincolniana ending with the Lincoln Memorial. I have seen the old blank hulks, most of them gone now, that were said to have been slave jails for the thriving interstate slave traffic. One was across the street from the White House; another a stone’s throw from the Capitol. And I know neighboring Maryland: have followed the trail of John Wilkes Booth in the southern counties, have seen the window from which legendary Barbara Freitchie challenged Stonewall’s army; and over where Mary-land joins West Virginia, have stood truly moved before the scarred firehouse where the rifles of John Brown and his band of whites and Negroes spat angry defiance at the slave-power.
“Gone With What Wind”
Authors: Tidwell John Edgar , Sanders Mark A 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
In Savannah, I had several talks with a patrician lady who was working on a book about coastal Negroes. Our talks led to recent fiction, finally to Gone with the Wind. She cavalierly dismissed my criticism that the novel was sinister in its implications about slavery and Reconstruction. “You musn’t be so sensitive,” she advised me. “That’s the way things were then. What I object to in Gone with the Wind is that Margaret Mitchell centers it about Atlanta and makes a heroine out of the upstart daughter of an Irish immigrant.” To Savannah and Charleston, Atlanta is as much an upstart as Scarlett O’Hara. Atlanta is not bothered. After all, to a money-minded metropolis, the payoff is that Atlanta’s novel has outsold any about Charleston, Savannah, or Natchez. To the drugstore literary trade, Peachtree Street has become more famous than Savannah’s Bull Street and Charleston’s Battery. It was from shops near Five Points that the craze for antebellum hats and frocks (somewhat streamlined, of course) swept the nation. As the pert hussy, Scarlett, strode brazenly past her more retiring older cousins, so Atlanta. From low beginnings as Marthasville, Atlanta became the industrial capital of the confederacy, and is now capital of the largest state east of the Mississippi and the busiest railroad center in the South: “Look, we have come a long way, in spite of fire, hurricane, or Sherman!” True to its go-getting spirit, Atlanta is not so enamored of the past as other cities. Sherman’s attacking and Hood’s departing armies (forerunning the “scorched earth” tactics) rid the city of what antebellum mansions it had. I saw decrepit houses, taller than the surrounding Negro slums but no prouder. They may have looked antebellum, but they merely aged too soon. The fancy scrolls and curleycews on their porches and gables dated from the General Grant period. Their favorite gray was overcast with soot from the soft coal burned in Atlanta’s furnaces. The elegant Southern style manor-houses, my friends told me, were of the twentieth century, built by the Coca-Cola and other dynasties who lived in Druid Hills, or along those winding drives like Paces Ferry Road, with strips of rolling woodland shutting out the prying passers-by. Statues of Henry Grady, advocate of an industrialized South, and of Tom Watson, populist champion, are respected in Atlanta as much as any statues of Confederate heroes. Both seemed to me to be caught in unfortunate poses: Grady looks as if he is reaching beneath his arm for a pistol as he faces the New South at Five Points, and Tom Watson as if he has just tossed a ringer in a game of horseshoes on the Capitol lawn.
“Meekness In Bronze”
Authors: Tidwell John Edgar , Sanders Mark A 
Published: November 2023

Abstract
In Natchitoches, Louisiana, at Washington and Lafayette Streets, a famous statue was “Erected by the City . . . in Grateful Recognition of the Arduous and Faithful Service of the Good Darkies of Louisiana.” An old Negro, clad in a prince-albert, stands on a flower-decked pedestal. His shoulders are bent by age, his knees by servility; his head is bowed like Chesterfield’s valet; his misshapen hat is in hand, doffed politely. My Natchitoches friends were somewhat ashamed of this civic pride, and they took me to see it only at dusk. I repeated to them the folklore of the Louisiana Guide that “Plantation Negroes, inebriated after a spree in town, go to the statue to ask the way home and the Good Darky never fails to tell them the right direction.” “No such lie,” a friend, born and bred in Natchitoches, told me impatiently. “They are more likely to wake up Dr. Johnson or John C. Lewis. And borrow bus fare or a dollar or so.” From Virginia to this farthest South, I had seen the souvenirs and statues of the ex-slaves, or the preserved relics themselves, who were supposed to charm the tourists with tales that ran on like deep-grooved phonograph records. And I suspected, as in this instance my Natchitoches friends insisted, that much of the business was no such lie.