How did the most powerful nation on earth come to embrace terror as the organizing principle of its security policy? In The Theater of Operations, Joseph Masco locates the origins of the present-day U.S. counterterrorism apparatus in the Cold War's "balance of terror." He shows how, after the attacks of 9/11, the U.S. global War on Terror mobilized a wide range of affective, conceptual, and institutional resources established during the Cold War to enable a new planetary theater of operations. Tracing how specific aspects of emotional management, existential danger, state secrecy, and threat awareness have evolved as core aspects of the American social contract, Masco draws on archival, media, and ethnographic resources to offer a new portrait of American national security culture. Undemocratic and unrelenting, this counterterror state prioritizes speculative practices over facts, and ignores everyday forms of violence across climate, capital, and health in an unprecedented effort to anticipate and eliminate terror threats—real, imagined, and emergent.

The Theatre of the Grand Guignol, which began in turn-of-the-century Paris, celebrated horror and fear. Innocent victims, mangled beauty, insanity, mutilation, depravity and guilt were its primary themes. This text examines its history, themes and methods and summarizes its plots.

"Bloodcurdling shrieks, fiendish schemes, deeds of darkness, mayhem and mutilation—we all have a rough idea of what Grand Guignol stands for. But until now it has been hard to find out much more about it than that. According to the American theater historian Mel Gordon, no major history of the theater so much as mentions it, although it is a form of entertainment that held its own on the Paris stage for more than half a century. But Mr. Gordon has made a thorough job of filling the gap."—John Gross, The New York Times Here is the expanded edition of classic outré book, The Grand Guignol, first published in 1988 and now long out of print. Like the original anthology, it includes an illustrated introduction to the theater of Paris and abroad, a breakdown of its stage tricks, a summary of one hundred plots, extensive photo documentation, André de Lord's essay, "Fear in Literature," and two originally produced Grand Guignol scripts. The expanded edition also contains additional graphic and textual material including a color insert of Grand Guignol posters; the 1938 autobiographical account of Maxa, the company's leading female performer entitled "I Am the Maddest Woman in the World"; and the controversial playscript Orgy in the Lighthouse.

Situated on the intersection of comparative literary criticism, political history and theory, and cultural analysis, Terror and Pity: Aleksandr Sumarokov and the Theater of Power in Elizabethan Russia offers an in-depth reading of early Russian tragedy as a political genre. Imported to Russia by Aleksandr Sumarokov around 1750, tragedy reenacted and shaped the symbolic economy and the often disturbing historical experience of "absolutist" autocracy. Addressing half-forgotten texts and events, this study engages with literary and cultural theory from Walter Benjamin to Foucault and "new historicism" in order to contribute to a broader discussion of early modern "poetics of culture."

"Every now and then a book comes along so startling in its ingenuity, so crisp and invigorating in its perception and argument, so revealing in its investigation of its subject matter, that one is forced to reevaluate, reconsider, and restructure one's understanding and one's perspectives on theatre, discourse, and history. Such a book is Anthony Kubiak's Stages of Terror." -- Theatre Studies ..". quite compelling. It is rich and complete while leaving plenty of room for further development... " -- Text and Performance Quarterly Using Aristotle's Poetics as its point of departure, Anthony Kubiak traces the forms or "stages" of terror as a cultural and performative principle through English Renaissance and Restoration plays, through the modern and postmodern, to contemporary terrorist "theatres."

By the last 1950s, studios saw television as a convenient dumping ground for thousands of films that had been gathering dust in their vaults. Distributors grouped them by genre-- and Chicago's tradition of TV horror movie shows was born. From giant grasshoppers to Dracula epics, Okuda and Yurkiw take a comprehensive look at these programs, with career profiles of the "horror hosts," a look at the politics behind the shows, and broadcast histories, as well as guides to many of the films themselves.