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For much of his career, Johnny Cash opened his shows with the tagline, “Hello, I'm Johnny Cash.” This introduction seemed unnecessary, since everyone in the audience knew who he was—the famous musical artist whose career spanned almost five decades, whose troubled life on and off the stage received wide publicity, and whose cragged face seemed to express a depth and intensity not found in any other artist, living or dead.

For Cash, as for many celebrities, renown was the product of both hard work and luck. Often a visionary and always a tireless performer, he was subject to a whirlwind of social, economic, and cultural countercurrents. Nine Choices explores the tension between Cash's desire for mainstream success, his personal struggles with alcohol and drugs, and an ever-changing cultural landscape that often circumscribed his options.

Drawing on interviews, archival research, and textual analysis, Jonathan Silverman focuses on Cash's personal and artistic choices as a way of understanding his life, his impact on American culture, and the ways in which that culture in turn shaped him. Cash made decisions about where he would live, what he would play, who would produce his albums, whether he would support the Vietnam War, and even if he would flip his famous “bird”—the iconic image of Cash giving the finger which is now plastered on posters and T-shirts everywhere—in the context of cultural forces both visible and opaque. He made other decisions in consultation with a variety of people, many of whom were chiefly concerned with the reaction of his audiences. 

Less a conventional biography than a study of the making of an identity, Nine Choices explores how Johnny Cash sought to define who he was, how he was perceived, and what he signified through a series of self-conscious actions. The result, Silverman shows, was a life that was often tumultuous but never uninteresting.

Nineteenth-Century Women’s Movements and the Bible examines politically motivated women’s movements in the nineteenth century, including the legal, cultural, and ecclesiastical contexts of women. Focusing on the period beginning with the French Revolution in 1789 through the end of World War I in 1918, contributors explore the many ways that women’s lives were limited in both the public and domestic spheres. Essays consider the social, political, biblical, and theological factors that resulted in a multinational raising of awareness and emancipation for women in the nineteenth century and the strengthening of their international networks. The contributors include Angela Berlis, Kristin Kobes Du Mez, Ute Gerhard, Christiana de Groot, Arnfriður Guðmundsdóttir, Izaak J. de Hulster, Elisabeth Joris, Christine Lienemann-Perrin, Amanda Russell-Jones, Claudia Setzer, Aud V. Tønnessen, Adriana Valerio, and Royce M. Victor.

A candid, courageous portrait of the South as told by a writer unafraid to confront its heat, its history, and its humanity.

Clarence Cason belonged to that restless generation of southern intellectuals who, between the world wars, questioned the South's stubborn traditionalism, even as they tried to explain and defend its distinctiveness. From his professorial perch at The University of Alabama, Cason wrote polished essays for leading national publications while contributing weekly editorials for newspaper readers. As a journalist in academia, he cultivated a broad audience for his eloquent though tentative observations about the "character" of a region that seemed to be a separate province of the nation.

In 1935, Cason collected his thoughts in a small book of essays titled 90° in the Shade. In it, he declared that climate and the relaxation afforded by field and stream had given southerners excellent reasons for their notoriously slow pace of life. Still, he wrote, "there is much work that ought to be done below the Potomac." Cason captured the pathos of race relations and other persistent problems and declared that the abominable practice of lynching would end when the best people of the South risked their personal and commercial standing to denounce it. Just days before the book's publication, however, Cason shot himself in his campus office. He left no explanation, but apparently he feared angry reaction from fellow citizens to his mild criticisms and gentle suggestions for change.

The University of Alabama Press brought the book back into print in 1983. This new edition of Cason's classic features an introduction by journalist and UA professor H. Bailey Thomson, allowing yet another generation the enjoyment of Cason's perceptive writing, not so much for any remedy he proposed but rather for the open-minded and loving way in which he addressed the region's tragic experience.

This second reprint edition of a classic work on southern culture will allow a new generation of readers to enjoy Cason's observant, graceful writing.

Recent anthropological scholarship on “new midwifery” centers on how professional midwives in various countries are helping women reconnect with “nature,” teaching them to trust in their bodies, respecting women’s “choices,” and fighting for women’s right to birth as naturally as possible. In No Alternative, Rosalynn A. Vega uses ethnographic accounts of natural birth practices in Mexico to complicate these narratives about new midwifery and illuminate larger questions of female empowerment, citizenship, and the commodification of indigenous culture, by showing how alternative birth actually reinscribes traditional racial and gender hierarchies.

Vega contrasts the vastly different birthing experiences of upper-class and indigenous Mexican women. Upper-class women often travel to birthing centers to be delivered by professional midwives whose methods are adopted from and represented as indigenous culture, while indigenous women from those same cultures are often forced by lack of resources to use government hospitals regardless of their preferred birthing method. Vega demonstrates that women’s empowerment, having a “choice,” is a privilege of those capable of paying for private medical services—albeit a dubious privilege, as it puts the burden of correctly producing future members of society on women’s shoulders. Vega’s research thus also reveals the limits of citizenship in a neoliberal world, as indigeneity becomes an object of consumption within a transnational racialized economy.

An elderly Korean woman talking about being forced into sexual slavery during World War II. A modern Korean woman extricating herself from a failing relationship with an artist. Award-winning South Korean writer Kim Soom presents us with portraits of two women who couldn’t be more different but who both show resilience and compassion. No Hand Held Mine: Stories, containing one non-fiction piece and one short story, demonstrates the power and breadth of Kim’s writing. “Granny Wild Goose” uses former Comfort Woman Gil Won-Ok’s own words, recorded during conversations with Kim, to tell her life story of brutality, betrayal, and survival. In “The Root’s Tale,” the female protagonist comes to understand the strength of solitary women. Both devastating and reaffirming, No Hand Held Mine shows why Kim Soom has received every major literary award in Korea. Joon-Li Kim and Doo-Sun Ryu’s sensitive translation maintains Kim’s lyricism and exquisite imagery.

This book is published with the support of The Daesan Foundation.
 

Founded by Mexican American men in 1929, the League of United Latin-American Citizens (LULAC) has usually been judged according to Chicano nationalist standards of the late 1960s and 1970s. Drawing on extensive archival research, including the personal papers of Alonso S. Perales and Adela Sloss-Vento, No Mexicans, Women, or Dogs Allowed presents the history of LULAC in a new light, restoring its early twentieth-century context.

Cynthia Orozco also provides evidence that perceptions of LULAC as a petite bourgeoisie, assimilationist, conservative, anti-Mexican, anti-working class organization belie the realities of the group's early activism. Supplemented by oral history, this sweeping study probes LULAC's predecessors, such as the Order Sons of America, blending historiography and cultural studies. Against a backdrop of the Mexican Revolution, World War I, gender discrimination, and racial segregation, No Mexicans, Women, or Dogs Allowed recasts LULAC at the forefront of civil rights movements in America.

“Welcome to the Golden Age of Women-Directed Horror.” Over the last fifteen years, there has been a sustained global influx of women artists working in mainstream and independent horror cinemas earning notable public and industry acclaim. As a result, now, for the first time in horror history, there is also a concentrated corpus of films that explicitly address topics of identity, sexuality, trauma, and monstrosity from women’s perspectives. No More Chainsaws offers an in-depth analysis of some of the earliest and underrated releases within this New Wave of women’s horror cinema: Catherine Hardwicke’s Twilight (2008), Karyn Kusama’s Jennifer’s Body (2009), Jennifer and Sylvia Soska’s American Mary (2012), and Kimberly Peirce’s Carrie (2013). No More Chainsaws articulates the ways in which these contemporary films attempt to liberate horror from an overdetermining gendered lexicon of violence and terror.

No More Dual City: The Fate of Atlantic City examines Atlantic City as a vivid case study of how Black communities endure and resist the forces of economic redevelopment, racialized planning, and environmental vulnerability. Drawing on five years of ethnographic research, Jackson reveals how the city’s famed tourism and casino economy depends upon, yet marginalizes, the historically Black Northside neighborhood. Through the concept of dualness, Jackson explores how racial capitalism produces both material and emotional divides, between growth and decay, visibility and exclusion, and belonging and dispossession. Combining first-person narrative, theory, and community storytelling, the book illuminates the “slow violence” of urban inequality and the creativity of residents who build rooted futures amid instability. No More Dual City reframes Atlantic City not as an anomaly but as a microcosm of racialized urban America, offering a compelling new way to think about sustainability, justice, and the right to stay in place.

Explores ecological impasses and opportunities of our fossil-fueled civilization
 

It is more and more obvious that our fossilized civilization has no sustainable future. It is an ecological Ponzi scheme stealing away the lives of countless species and the wellbeing of future generations in exchange for contemporary conveniences and the luxuries of a small subset of the human population. Yet a civilization wholly beyond fossils still seems difficult to grasp. 

In No More Fossils, Dominic Boyer tells the story of the rise of fossil civilization through successive phases of sucropolitics (plantation sugar), carbopolitics (industrial coal), and petropolitics (oily automobility and plasticity), showing what tethers us to the ecocidal trajectory of petroculture today and what it will take to overcome the forces that mire us in place. He also looks ahead toward the world that the rapid electrification of vehicles, buildings, and power is creating. What can we do to make electroculture more just and sustainable than the petroculture we are leaving behind?

An illuminating look at the festival performances of slaves in Havana and New Orleans

However urban slave societies might have differed from their rural counterparts, they still relied on a concerted assault on the psychological, social, and cultural identity of their African-descended inhabitants to maintain power and control. This ambitious book looks at how people of African descent in two such societies—Havana and New Orleans in the nineteenth century—created and maintained their own forms of cultural resistance to the slave regime’s assault and, in the process, put forth autonomous views of self and the social landscape.

Counters common and harmful myths about manhood today and offers recommendations for what young men really need as they mature.

From the “manosphere” and LooksMaxxers to Proud Boys, it increasingly feels these days like the kids—particularly the boys—are not all right. Social expectations around what masculinity means are in flux, while algorithms push out misogynist content with no regard for its radicalizing effects. In 2023 and again in 2025, a representative survey of 2,000 American men aged 18-23 found that over two-thirds agreed with the statement: “No one really knows me.” This dramatic finding revealed the failure of American boyhood to account for young men’s full humanity and equip them with the skills, relationships, and support needed for success in these modern times. 

In No One Really Knows Me, psychologists Michael C. Reichert and Gary Barker seek to uncover the root causes of and solutions to our contemporary crisis of masculinity. Based on single and group interviews and a wealth of survey data, including their own national survey of 2,000 men ages 18 to 45 from a broad range of economic, racial, and social backgrounds, their findings were clear: across the board, men are struggling to build the social networks they desperately need for health and success. Underlying this failure is a set of historic, pernicious myths that continue to dominate boyhood and shape the imaginations of boys in families, schools, and relationships. Reichert and Barker use each chapter to highlight one myth of masculinity, offer data from their own research and practice to debunk it, and then present life-changing, evidence-based alternatives. 

Young men today are in quite a different position than they were a generation ago. As he emerges from boyhood on his way to manhood, each young man needs to be grounded in emotionally open connections, deep relationships with people who have his back, and opportunities to engage with purpose. This book shows us how we can provide young men with surer footing for their passage to adulthood. 

"No Safe Spaces opens up a conversation beyond narrow polemics . . . Although cross-racial casting has been the topic of heated discussion, little sustained scholarship addresses both the historical precedents and theoretical dimensions. Pao illustrates the tensions and contradictions inherent not only in stage representations, but also in the performance of race in everyday life. A wonderful book whose potential readership goes well beyond theater and performance scholars."
---Josephine Lee, University of Minnesota

"Non-traditional casting, increasingly practiced in American theater, is both deeply connected to our country's racial self-image(s) and woefully under-theorized. Pao takes on the practice in its entirety to disentangle the various strands of this vitally important issue."
---Karen Shimakawa, New York University

No Safe Spaces looks at one of the most radical and enduring changes introduced during the Civil Rights era---multiracial and cross-racial casting practices in American theater. The move to cast Latino/a, African American, and Asian American actors in classic stage works by and about white Europeans and Americans is viewed as both social and political gesture and artistic innovation. Nontraditionally cast productions are shown to have participated in the national dialogue about race relations and ethnic identity and served as a source of renewed creativity for the staging of the canonical repertory.

Multiracial casting is explored first through its history, then through its artistic, political, and pragmatic dimensions. Next, the book focuses on case studies from the dominant genres of contemporary American theater: classical tragedy and comedy, modern domestic drama, antirealist drama, and the Broadway musical, using a broad array of archival source materials to enhance and illuminate its arguments.

Angela C. Pao is Associate Professor of Comparative Literature at Indiana University.

A volume in the series Theater: Theory/Text/Performance