"Meet Julian and Josephine, an immigrant couple n New York's Lower East Side, circa 1890. Meet Gideon and Margie, an unlikely pair of historical reenactors, circa now. A museum tour goes off the rails in this jaunty tale of old places, new beginnings and timeless questions"--P. [4] of cover.

Twelve-year-old Circa Monroe has a knack for restoring old photographs. It's a skill she learned from her dad, who loves old pictures and putting fun digital twists on them. His altered "Shopt" photos look so real that they could fool nearly anybody, and Circa treasures the fun stories he makes up to explain each creation. One day, her father receives a strange phone call requesting an urgent delivery, and he heads out into a storm. The unimaginable happens: a tornado, then a terrible accident, and Circa never sees her dad again. Just as Circa and her mom begin to pick up the pieces, a mysterious boy shows up on their doorstep, a boy called Miles who remembers nothing about his past. The only thing he has with him is the photograph that Circa's dad intended to deliver on the day he died. As Circa tries to help Miles recover his identity, she begins to notice something strange about the photos she and her father retouched—the digital flourishes added to the old photos seem to exist in real life. The mysteries of the Shopt photos and Miles's past are intertwined, and in order to solve both, Circa will have to figure out what's real and what's an illusion. With stunning prose, captivating photographs, and a hint of magic, Circa Now is a gripping story full of hope and heart.

Lost civilizations? Origins of mankind? Why does mankind seem to need religion? Why is there so much confusion and mental indigestion manifest among not only rank and file mankind, but also actively demonstrated by the "academics"? After all, does it really matter who built the pyramids of Egypt? Or when they were built? Does it matter that there are so many confusing and conflicting claims by the proponents of the many religions? So who, or what, is "god"? Is it Jehovah, Allah, Krishna, or Enlil? Or perchance it is a fiction. And what does it matter or avail if we understand the true origins of man or not? If we cannot correctly understand who and what mankind is, how can we ever know and understand what angels, demons, gods, God, or aliens are? Is it that we are the aliens and this was not our earth?

Surveys the art of the Age of Exploration in Europe, the Far East, and the Americas

According to the American dream, hard work and a good education can lift people from poverty to success in the "land of opportunity." The unskilled immigrants who came to the United States from southern, central, and eastern Europe in the late 19th and early 20th centuries largely realized that vision. Within a few generations, their descendants rose to the middle class and beyond. But can today's unskilled immigrant arrivals—especially Mexicans, the nation's most numerous immigrant group—expect to achieve the same for their descendants? Social scientists disagree on this question, basing their arguments primarily on how well contemporary arrivals are faring. In Italians Then, Mexicans Now, Joel Perlmann uses the latest immigration data as well as 100 years of historical census data to compare the progress of unskilled immigrants and their American-born children both then and now. The crucial difference between the immigrant experience a hundred years ago and today is that relatively well-paid jobs were plentiful for workers with little education a hundred years ago, while today's immigrants arrive in an increasingly unequal America. Perlmann finds that while this change over time is real, its impact has not been as strong as many scholars have argued. In particular, these changes have not been great enough to force today's Mexican second generation into an inner-city "underclass." Perlmann emphasizes that high school dropout rates among second-generation Mexicans are alarmingly high, and are likely to have a strong impact on the group's well-being. Yet despite their high dropout rates, Mexican Americans earn at least as much as African Americans, and they fare better on social measures such as unwed childbearing and incarceration, which often lead to economic hardship. Perlmann concludes that inter-generational progress, though likely to be slower than it was for the European immigrants a century ago, is a reality, and could be enhanced if policy interventions are taken to boost high school graduation rates for Mexican children. Rich with historical data, Italians Then, Mexicans Now persuasively argues that today's Mexican immigrants are making slow but steady socio-economic progress and may one day reach parity with earlier immigrant groups who moved up into the heart of the American middle class. Copublished with the Levy Economics Institute of Bard College

Time teaches us appreciation of the past. This book examines Penn State's past and compares it with the present. Pat Little takes us on a fascinating journey through the perspective of old and new photographs. Sprinkled throughout are gems of historical information that guide the reader through history and inform us of little-known facts. This is a historical treasure all Penn Staters will enjoy.

In this elegant study, Walt Whitman's democratic, consensual idealism emerges for the first time as truly central to his poetic achievement. Though Whitman's democratic idealism has often been dismissed as a blindness to the political complexities of his day, Kerry C. Larson argues that the poet was in fact vitally engaged in the problems of preserving social continuity at a time (1855-60) when the specter of disunion and fractricidal war grew increasingly ominous. Whitman conceived his poems as vehicles for social integration whose entire aim was to dramatize the joining of the many and the one, speaker and listener, universal and particular without subordinating either term. For Whitman, the poet's role was to be "the better President," the figure in whose person all contending interests and competing factions would be resolved. The importance of "drama" in Larson's title is borne out in his argument that Whitman's most memorable poems depict the goal of consent as an active process, something to be achieved rather than merely affirmed. By way of making this drama vivid, these poems project a fictive audience or interlocutor which, in being invoked by the poet, furnishes him with a partner in the ongoing dialogue of voices Leaves of Grass both embodies and records.