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In an increasingly globalized world, place matters more than ever. That is certainly the case in Appalachian studies—a field that brings scholars, activists, artists, and citizens together around a region to contest misappropriations of resources and power and combat stereotypes of isolation and intolerance. In Appalachia in Regional Context: Place Matters, the diverse ways in which place is invoked, the person who invokes it, and the reasons behind that invocation all matter greatly. In this collection, scholars and artists are assembled from a variety of disciplines to broaden the conversation. The book begins with chapters challenging conventional representations of Appalachia by exploring theoretically the relationships among regionalism, globalism, activism, and everyday experience. Other chapters examine, for example, foodways, depictions of Appalachian gendered and racialized identity in popular culture, the experiences of rural LGBTQ youth, and the pitfalls and promises of teaching regional studies. Poems by the renowned social critic bell hooks interleave the chapters and add context to reflections on the region. Drawing on cultural anthropology, sociology, geography, media studies, political science, gender and women’s studies, ethnography, social theory, art, music, and literature, this volume furthers the exploration of new perspectives on one of America’s most compelling and misunderstood regions.

As a Communist state bordering Vietnam, China actively supported Ho Chi Minh’s wars against France in 1950–1954 and then America in 1965–1970. This book uses new Communist sources to offer an unprecedented Chinese military perspective on the Vietnam War. By documenting the level of Chinese military assistance to Vietnam, it reveals the extent to which the Chinese support of Ho’s military and political objective in the wars was a crucial and indispensable factor in North Vietnam’s victory. The study offers an overview and the particulars of Chinese aid to Ho’s army, or PAVN, in terms of training, weaponry, logistics, advisors, and technology during its transformative years of 1950–1956 in depth and detail based on a foundation of multiple documentary sources, memoirs, interviews, and secondary sources both in China and in Vietnam. With Chinese assistance, the PAVN experienced three important transformative changes from a peasant, rebellion force to a regular, national army. In retrospect, international Communist support to North Vietnam proved to be the decisive edge that enabled the PAVN, or NVA, to survive the American Rolling Thunder bombing campaign and helped the NLF, also known as the Viet Cong, to prevail in the war of attrition and eventually defeat South Vietnam. An international perspective may help students and the public in the West to gain a better understanding of America’s long war.

In Dying to Eat: Cross-Cultural Perspectives on Food, Death, and the Afterlife, Candi K. Cann examines the role of food in dying, death, bereavement, and the afterlife. The coeditors seek to illuminate on the intersection of food and death in various cultures as well as fill an overlooked scholarly niche. Dying to Eat offers a multi-cultural perspective from contributors examining Korean, Chinese, Japanese, Latin American, European, Middle Eastern and American rituals and customs surrounding death and food. The contributors discuss a wide array of topics, including the role of death in the Islamic Sufi approach to food, the intersection of Buddhism, Catholicism, and Shamanism, as well as the role of casseroles and church cookbooks in the American South. The collection will provide not only food for thought on the subject of death and afterlife, but also theories, methods, recipes, and instructions on how and why food is used in dying, death, mourning, and afterlife rituals and practices in different cultural and religious contexts.

Popular culture often champions freedom as the fundamentally American way of life and celebrates the virtues of independence and self-reliance. But film and television have also explored the tension between freedom and other core values, such as order and political stability. What looks like healthy, productive, and creative freedom from one point of view may look like chaos, anarchy, and a source of destructive conflict from another. Film and television continually pose the question: Can Americans deal with their problems on their own, or must they rely on political elites to manage their lives? This book explores the ways television shows such as Star Trek, The X-Files, South Park, and Deadwood and films such as The Searchers, Mars Attacks!, and The Aviator have portrayed both top-down and bottom-up models of order. Drawing on John Locke, Adam Smith, Alexis de Tocqueville, and other proponents of freedom, the book contrasts the classical liberal vision of America—particularly its emphasis on the virtues of spontaneous order--with the Marxist understanding of the “culture industry” and the Hobbesian model of absolute state control. The book concludes with a discussion of the impact of 9/11 on film and television, and the new anxieties emerging in contemporary alien invasion narratives: the fear of a global technocracy that seeks to destroy the nuclear family, religious faith, local government, and other traditional bulwarks against the absolute state.

This work combines black business and civil rights history to explain how economic concerns shaped the goals and objectives of the black freedom struggle. Brandon K. Winford examines the “black business activism” of banker and civil rights lawyer John Hervey Wheeler (1908–1978). Born on the campus of Kittrell College in Vance County, North Carolina, he came of age in Jim Crow Atlanta, Georgia, where his father became an executive with the world-renowned North Carolina Mutual Life Insurance Company (NC Mutual). As president of Mechanics and Farmers Bank (M&F Bank), located on Durham’s “Black Wall Street,” Wheeler became the Tar Heel State’s most influential black power broker and among the top civil rights figures in the South. Winford places Wheeler at the center of his narrative to understand how black business leaders tackled civil rights while continuously pointing to the economy’s larger significance for the success and advancement of the postwar New South. In this way, Wheeler articulated a bold vision of regional prosperity, grounded in full citizenship and economic power for black people. He reminded the white South that its future was inextricably linked to the plight of black southerners. He spent his entire career trying to fulfill these ideals through his institutional and organizational affiliations, as part and parcel of his civil rights agenda. Winford draws on previously unexamined primary and secondary sources, including newspapers, business records, FBI reports, personal papers, financial statements, presidential files, legal documents, oral histories, and organizational and institutional records.

This book describes the remarkable life of Paul Rusch, a Kentuckian who went to Japan after the Great Kanto Earthquake. Rusch embarked on an unlikely journey from a YMCA worker to college instructor, missionary, prisoner of war, and military intelligence officer, ultimately founding Seisen-Ryo lodge and the Kiyosato Educational Experiment Project (KEEP) in Kiyosato, Japan. Through KEEP, Rusch introduced new agricultural methods and technology to highland Japan, endeavoring to help feed an impoverished region in the postwar era. Credited with introducing American-style football to Japan, Rusch was also instrumental in recruiting Japanese Americans (Nisei) for military service during World War II. As an army intelligence officer during the Allied Occupation of Japan, Rusch gathered evidence employed to absolve Emperor Hirohito of responsibility for the Pacific War. Rusch used his vast social network in Japan to acquire evidence of a Communist espionage ring in Japan led by the spymaster Richard Sorge, a development that affected the anti-Communist policies of Occupied Japan and McCarthy-era politics in the United States. Rusch’s dreams of evangelizing Japan did not come to fruition, but, despite some failures, Paul Rusch’s memory has endured into the twenty-first century, inspiring Japanese and Americans to foster cultural exchange, environmental sustainability, and international peace.

What is the American dream, and why has it proven so elusive for many people? By examining popular culture’s portrayal of the dark side of the American dream, this book seeks to answer these questions. Only when we see people fail in their pursuit of the American dream do we begin to understand its limitations and its inner contradictions. This book explores five representative examples of the American dream gone awry: (1) Huckleberry Finn; (2) the films of W. C. Fields; (3) the Godfather films;(4) Breaking Bad; and (5) The Walking Dead (and other “end-of-the-world” narratives). As these cases suggest, America, as the fresh-start nation, always threatens to become the land of the false start. America gives its people the freedom to reinvent themselves, but that easily turns into a license to imposture. The American ideal of the self-made man is shadowed by the specter of the con man, and the line between legitimate business and criminal activity sometimes becomes hard to draw clearly. Although the American dream is to achieve success in both family and business, the Godfather films and Breaking Bad show these goals tragically at odds. With its Hollywood endings, American popular culture is often thought to be naively optimistic; this book demonstrates that film and television creators have been capable of raising thoughtful questions about the validity and viability of the American dream, thus deepening our understanding of America itself.

While television has always played a role in recording and curating history, shaping cultural memory, and influencing public sentiment, the changing nature of the medium in the post-network era finds viewers experiencing and participating in this process in new ways. They skim through commercials, live tweet press conferences and award shows, and tune into reality shows to escape reality. This new era, defined by the heightened anxiety and fear ushered in by 9/11, has been documented by our media consumption, production, and reaction. In Small Screen, Big Feels, Melissa Ames asserts that TV has been instrumental in cultivating a shared memory of emotionally charged events unfolding in the United States since September 11, 2001. She analyzes specific shows and genres to illustrate the ways in which cultural fears are embedded into our entertainment in series such as The Walking Dead and Lost or critiqued through programs like The Daily Show. In the final section of the book, Ames provides three audience studies that showcase how viewers consume and circulate emotions in the post-network era: analyses of live tweets from Shonda Rhimes's drama, How to Get Away with Murder (2010--2020), ABC's reality franchises, The Bachelor (2002--present) and The Bachelorette (2003--present), and political coverage of the 2016 Presidential Debates. Though film has been closely studied through the lens of affect theory, little research has been done to apply the same methods to television. Engaging an impressively wide range of texts, genres, media, and formats, Ames offers a trenchant analysis of how televisual programming in the United States responded to and reinforced a cultural climate grounded in fear and anxiety.

From the dead body to the virtual body and from material memorials to virtual memorials, one thing is clear: the bodiless nature of memorialization of the dead across cultures. In postindustrial, Protestant, and capitalist societies such as the United States, this trend seems much more prominent and is moving at a faster rate than in the developing world. As globalization and industrialization increase, traditional cultural values and norms will be further eroded, and the trend toward bodiless memorialization will only intensify. Additionally, as the world's population and accompanying land scarcity issues continue to rise, the body as corpse will continue to disappear as countries look for new and innovative ways to dispose of the dead. Ultimately, the rise of memorialization is concurrent with the disappearance of the body. This book examines this disturbing trend, analyzing various types of memorialization and questioning the impetus behind these newly emerging forms of remembrance.

This book is the ultimate guide to entertaining with bourbon and Kentucky style. Every aspect of party planning from invitations and decorating to setting up a bar and buffet is described in detail. Chapters guide readers through steps for conducting their own bourbon tastings, as well as bourbon and food pairings and recipes for authentic Kentucky dishes and bourbon cocktails. One chapter is devoted specifically to Kentucky Derby-themed parties. Another describes how several of the state’s bourbon distilleries put on special events. Whether new to bourbon or long acquainted with America’s native spirit, readers will find tips and tricks for hosting the perfect bourbon-themed occasion.

From the earliest oral traditions to print accounts of frontier exploration, from local color to modernism and postmodernism, from an exuberant flowering in the 1970s to its high popular and critical profile in the twenty-first century, Appalachian literature can boast a long tradition of delighting and provoking readers. Yet, locating an anthology that offers a representative selection of authors and texts from the earliest days to the present can be difficult. Katherine Ledford and Theresa Lloyd have produced an anthology to meet this need. Simultaneously representing, complicating, and furthering the discourse on the Appalachian region and its cultures, this anthology works to provides the historical depth and range of Appalachian literature that contemporary readers and scholars seek, from Cherokee oral narratives to fiction and drama about mountaintop removal and prescription drug abuse. It also aims to challenge the common stereotypes of Appalachian life and values by including stories of multiple, often less heard, viewpoints of Appalachian life: mountain and valley, rural and urban, folkloric and postmodern, traditional and contemporary, Northern and Southern, white people and people of color, straight and gay, insiders and outsiders—though, on some level, these dualisms are less concrete than previously imagined.