A collection of over 100 limericks with the author's original illustrations.

[…] it would seem natural to assume that the disciplines of literary studies and linguistics should by rights converge regularly to exchange views as each pursues its own goals. Is such a convergence possible on the question of sense and nonsense? James W. Underhill (this volume) The contributors to the present volume have focused their attention on two sets of problems that are leitmotifs in all the articles gathered. Firstly, should literary semantics – the linguistic study of texts/discourses marked with the feature of ‘literariness’ and ‘poeticalness’ – strive after an interpretation of all such texts at all costs? Are all literary texts interpretable? How do we cope with such troublesome linguistic phenomena as anomaly, deviance, and absurdity? Aren’t we, by any chance, fascinated by nonsense? Do we try to make it at least partly meaningful? Is interpretability our default value? The introductory article by the renowned scholar Margaret H. Freeman is an important voice, indeed a manifesto of sorts of literary semanticists in this respect. Secondly, while trying to answer all these questions, well aware of the fact that literary semantics is a fuzzy branch of linguistic studies, we have attempted at exploring its borderline zone to see to what extent we have to draw from various theoretical sources. Literary semanticists have often proved that they are capable of arguing contrastively in the atmosphere of openness to such neighbouring fields as: discourse analysis, literary pragmatics and reader-response theories, narratology, literary semiotics and hermeneutics, translation studies and – very importantly – the philosophy of language. The authors contributing to this book, an international company of regularly cooperating linguists and literary scholars, strike a nice balance between the cognitive and the more traditionally or philosophically-oriented frameworks of study, being a vivid proof that cognitive and other “denominations” are perfectly capable of fruitful coexistence. The volume ends with a short presentation by Radosław Nowakowski, already known to academic and artistic audiences in Europe as a creator and propagator of liberature – the art of unusual bookmaking, the art of the book liberated from our traditional preconceptions. We hope that our volume will be of interest to academics and students of literary theory and linguistics alike, especially those involved in literary semantics, stylistics and poetics. Naturally, the book is also addressed to members and sympathizers of IALS (International Association of Literary Semantics) and the readers of Journal of Literary Semantics, scattered across the world.

Edward Lear's much celebrated book of nonsense is here reproduced with all the original pictures and verse and two autobiographical letters by the author. Children and adults alike will delight in the Limerick's that here abound. Many of the earliest books, particularly those dating back to the 1900s and before, are now extremely scarce and increasingly expensive. We are republishing these classic works in affordable, high quality, modern editions, using the original text and artwork.

Profiles the education and eccentric brilliance of writer and artist Edward Gorey, discussing the creative process that led to more than 100 children's books and inspired a generation of creators, from Lemony Snicket to Tim Burton.

Recent polls suggest that fewer than 40 percent of Americans believe in Darwin’s theory of evolution, despite it being one of science’s best-established findings. More and more parents are refusing to vaccinate their children for fear it causes autism, though this link can been consistently disproved. And about 40 percent of Americans believe that the threat of global warming is exaggerated, despite near consensus in the scientific community that manmade climate change is real. Why do people believe bunk? And what causes them to embrace such pseudoscientific beliefs and practices? Noted skeptic Massimo Pigliucci sets out to separate the fact from the fantasy in this entertaining exploration of the nature of science, the borderlands of fringe science, and—borrowing a famous phrase from philosopher Jeremy Bentham—the nonsense on stilts. Presenting case studies on a number of controversial topics, Pigliucci cuts through the ambiguity surrounding science to look more closely at how science is conducted, how it is disseminated, how it is interpreted, and what it means to our society. The result is in many ways a “taxonomy of bunk” that explores the intersection of science and culture at large. No one—not the public intellectuals in the culture wars between defenders and detractors of science nor the believers of pseudoscience themselves—is spared Pigliucci’s incisive analysis. In the end, Nonsense on Stilts is a timely reminder of the need to maintain a line between expertise and assumption. Broad in scope and implication, it is also ultimately a captivating guide for the intelligent citizen who wishes to make up her own mind while navigating the perilous debates that will affect the future of our planet.

Sloane and Amelia clash with rival detectives when they travel to a secluded mansion in search of a missing fortune in this “warmhearted, very funny, madcap caper” (Kirkus Reviews, starred review) that’s the second book in the fun-filled Tangled Mysteries middle grade series perfect for fans of The Book Scavenger and Lemons. When Sloane Osborn and Amelia Miller-Poe arrive at Tangle Glen mansion, they have one goal: find the two million dollars that went missing on its premises decades ago. Solving the mystery would be just the kind of splashy victory their new detective agency needs to gain traction. Except that everything from the weirdly intense peony competition to the mansion’s cook who may or may not be hiding murder dolls in the attic seems to get in the way of their investigation. Not to mention Amelia’s obsession with speaking in 1920s slang, which sounds like a whole lot of nonsense to Sloane. And when it becomes clear that Amelia and Sloane aren’t the only ones searching for the missing millions, things start to get downright dangerous. So, when Sloane finds herself stranded on the edge of a slippery roof as a terrified bloodhound careens toward her, she can only ask herself: 1. Why are adults so obsessed with peonies? 2. Just how far are the other detectives willing to go to find the millions first? 3. Is the rain gutter on a hundred-year-old mansion strong enough to hold the weight of a thirteen-year-old girl and an exuberant dog?