How—haunted by the idea that their suburban homes were under siege—the second generation of suburban residents expanded spatial control and cultural authority through a strategy of productive victimization. The explosive growth of American suburbs following World War II promised not only a new place to live but a new way of life, one away from the crime and crowds of the city. Yet, by the 1970s, the expected security of suburban life gave way to a sense of endangerment. Perceived, and sometimes material, threats from burglars, kidnappers, mallrats, toxic waste, and even the occult challenged assumptions about safe streets, pristine parks, and the sanctity of the home itself. In Neighborhood of Fear, Kyle Riismandel examines how suburbanites responded to this crisis by attempting to take control of the landscape and reaffirm their cultural authority. An increasing sense of criminal and environmental threats, Riismandel explains, coincided with the rise of cable television, VCRs, Dungeons & Dragons, and video games, rendering the suburban household susceptible to moral corruption and physical danger. Terrified in almost equal measure by heavy metal music, the Love Canal disaster, and the supposed kidnapping epidemic implied by the abduction of Adam Walsh, residents installed alarm systems, patrolled neighborhoods, built gated communities, cried "Not in my backyard!," and set strict boundaries on behavior within their homes. Riismandel explains how this movement toward self-protection reaffirmed the primacy of suburban family values and expanded their parochial power while further marginalizing cities and communities of color, a process that facilitated and was facilitated by the politics of the Reagan revolution and New Right. A novel look at how Americans imagined, traversed, and regulated suburban space in the last quarter of the twentieth century, Neighborhood of Fear shows how the preferences of the suburban middle class became central to the cultural values of the nation and fueled the continued growth of suburban political power.

A novel look at how Americans imagined, traversed, and regulated suburban space in the last quarter of the twentieth century, Neighborhood of Fear shows how the preferences of the suburban middle class became central to the cultural values of the nation and fueled the continued growth of suburban political power.

In this collection, Esther Raizen explores the significance and value of Hebrew poetry written in response to the wars in which Israel was involved during the last fifty years. The anthology includes the works of many poets, some as well known as Nathan Altherman and Yehudah Amichai and others less known. The poems, presented in both English and Hebrew, depict war as viewed by the soldier, as reflected upon by civilians, and as a force giving rise to the creation of poetry. Raizen explores in an introductory essay the issue of whether poetry written with a defined political message and in the context of certain historical events can function adequately on the aesthetic level. She also tracks the changes in the characteristics of Israeli war poetry from 1948 to 1991, beginning with the glorified patriotism expected in the 1930s-1940s and progressing to the critical ideas in the later years, during which poetry is characterized by understatement and cynicism.

In State of Fear, Joshua Barker reckons with how fear and violence are produced and reproduced through everyday practices of rule and control. Examining the ethnographic and historical genealogies of Indonesian policing, Barker focuses on the city of Bandung, which is permeated by anxieties about security, in spite of the fact that it’s a relatively safe city according to the data. Drawing from his fieldwork there during the latter years of the authoritarian New Order regime, Barker traces the complex relationship between the state and vigilante groups like neighborhood watch patrols and street gangs. Through interviews with police officers, vigilantes, and street-level toughs, he uncovers a struggle between two visions of social control that continues to animate policing in Indonesia: the modern, bureaucratic approach favored by the state, and a territorial approach that divides the city into fiefdoms overseen by charismatic individuals of authority. Synthesizing insights from in-depth ethnographic, historical, and theoretical work, Barker reveals how authoritarianism can take root not just from the top down but also from the bottom up.

In Breaking Away from Broken Windows Ralph Taylor uses data on recent Baltimore crime-reduction efforts to attack the 'broken windows' thesis--that is, the currently fashionable notion that by reducing or eliminating superficial signs of disorder (dilapidated buildings, graffiti, incivil behavior by teenagers, etc.), urban police deparments can make significant and lasting reductions in crime. Taylor argues that such measures, while useful, are only a partial solution to the problem at hand. His data supports a materialist view: changes in levels of physical decay, superficial social disorder, and racial composition do not lead to higher crime, while economic decline does. He contends that the Baltimore example shows that in order to make real, long-term reductions in crime, urban politicians, businesses, and community leaders must work together to improve the economic fortunes of those living in high-crime areas.

Most studies of fear of crime assume that is rimarily induced by direct or indirect contact with a criminal event. Consequently programs designed to deal with this problem focus on either increased police protection or a number of crime prevention programs. In this study, Dan A. Lewis and Greta W. Salem raise questions both about the validity of these assumptions and the effectiveness of the programs. A five-year investigation has led the authors to challenge those theories that focus only on the psychological responses to victimizations and fail to take into account the social and political environments within which such fears are shaped and nurtured.Explicitly laying out a 'social control' perspective which informs their research and analysis, the authors examine the fear of crime in ten neighorhoods in Chicago, San Francisco, and Philadelphia which represent the range of communities typically found in urban areas. On the basis of their analysis the authors contend that fear of crime is not related to exposure or knowledge about criminal events alone but also stems from residents' concerns about broad changes taking place in their neighborhoods. Many people, they argue, are afraid not only because crime occurs but also because they believe that they have lost control over the environment in which they live.Lewis and Salem conclude that the eradication of fear of crime requires strategies that move beyond the traditional crime prevention programs to consider ways to restore the control that community residents feel they have lost and the possibilities for a more equitable distribution of security in urban areas.