Essays on Iberian views of the age of conquest through literature and cinema

Handsome, reserved, almost frighteningly aloof until he was approached, then playful, cordial, Nathaniel Hawthorne was as mercurial and double-edged as his writing. “Deep as Dante,” Herman Melville said. Hawthorne himself declared that he was not “one of those supremely hospitable people who serve up their own hearts, delicately fried, with brain sauce, as a tidbit” for the public. Yet those who knew him best often took the opposite position. “He always puts himself in his books,” said his sister-in-law Mary Mann, “he cannot help it.” His life, like his work, was extraordinary, a play of light and shadow. In this major new biography of Hawthorne, the first in more than a decade, Brenda Wineapple, acclaimed biographer of Janet Flanner and Gertrude and Leo Stein (“Luminous”–Richard Howard), brings him brilliantly alive: an exquisite writer who shoveled dung in an attempt to found a new utopia at Brook Farm and then excoriated the community (or his attraction to it) in caustic satire; the confidant of Franklin Pierce, fourteenth president of the United States and arguably one of its worst; friend to Emerson and Thoreau and Melville who, unlike them, made fun of Abraham Lincoln and who, also unlike them, wrote compellingly of women, deeply identifying with them–he was the first major American writer to create erotic female characters. Those vibrant, independent women continue to haunt the imagination, although Hawthorne often punishes, humiliates, or kills them, as if exorcising that which enthralls. Here is the man rooted in Salem, Massachusetts, of an old pre-Revolutionary family, reared partly in the wilds of western Maine, then schooled along with Longfellow at Bowdoin College. Here are his idyllic marriage to the youngest and prettiest of the Peabody sisters and his longtime friendships, including with Margaret Fuller, the notorious feminist writer and intellectual. Here too is Hawthorne at the end of his days, revered as a genius, but considered as well to be an embarrassing puzzle by the Boston intelligentsia, isolated by fiercely held political loyalties that placed him against the Civil War and the currents of his time. Brenda Wineapple navigates the high tides and chill undercurrents of Hawthorne’s fascinating life and work with clarity, nuance, and insight. The novels and tales, the incidental writings, travel notes and children’s books, letters and diaries reverberate in this biography, which both charts and protects the dark unknowable core that is quintessentially Hawthorne. In him, the quest of his generation for an authentically American voice bears disquieting fruit.

Caleb Woolf has designs on the basket of food that Cassie Cloak takes to her grandmother every Sunday, so they set a trap to teach him a lesson.

The Twice-Told Tale: Parallels in the Bible is the English version of a Hebrew work titled Parallels in the Bible, which is also published by Carta Jerusalem. As in the Hebrew version, the entire Book of Chronicles (I and II) appears in one column, with the parallel verses from other books of the Bible in an accompanying column on the same page. Parallels between books other than Chronicles are also included, such as parallel laws in the Pentateuch, later prophets' use of earlier prophets, and parallel psalms and proverbs. Words or phrases that are omitted in one source are represented by blank spaces of appropriate length in the opposite column. The Twice-Told Tale uses the classic text of the King James Version for this English edition. Key features of The Twice-Told Tale - It collates and presents parallel Bible texts in a way that clearly shows the duplications, differences, and silences. - It is conveniently arranged for ease of study. - It allows you to draw your own conclusions regarding the variant accounts in the Bible.

Three Blind Mice. Three Blind Mice. See how they run? No. See how they can make all sorts of useful literary elements colorful and easy to understand! Can one nursery rhyme explain the secrets of the universe? Well, not exactly—but it can help you understand the difference between bildungsroman, epigram, and epistolary. From the absurd to the wish-I’d-thought-of-that clever, writing professor Catherine Lewis blends Mother Goose with Edward Gorey and Queneau, and the result is learning a whole lot more about three not so helpless mice, and how to fine tune your own writing, bildungsroman and all. If your writing is your air, this is your laughing gas.* *That’s a metaphor, friends.

In this tale of New England witchery, it is ten years after the harrowing and tragic events of the Salem witch trials. Abigail Williams—the lead accuser who sent twenty people to their doom as a young girl—now lives under an assumed name on the outskirts of Boston, quietly striving to atone for her sins. When a handsome stranger arrives claiming to be a sailor in need, Abigail takes him in, and long-dormant passions awaken within her. Love starts to grow between the two—an unlikely flower cracking through salty earth. But their contentment is short-lived, for someone else is coming for Abigail, someone who has been looking for her since she danced in the weird woods of Salem. The Devil is demanding Abigail's soul, and a debt will be paid—but first, Abigail must make peace with the woman she most wronged…

Harries introduces the stories written by 17th century French women, or conteuses, female storytellers. Their stories omitted from the traditional, largely male-authored, fairy tale "canon."