Groundbreaking poems in Asian American feminist literature Fierce, raw, and unapologetic, Janice Mirikitani’s poetry and prose are as vibrant and resonant today as when these two collections were first published in 1978 and 1987. Now back in print in one volume, Awake in the River and Shedding Silence epitomizes Mirikitani’s singular voice—one that is brash, sexual, politically outspoken, and unconcerned with pandering to mainstream audiences. An influential artist and activist, Mirikitani has advanced the causes of women of color feminisms, global anti-imperialism, and Afro-Asian solidarity for more than fifty years. Her writings confront sexualized violence, anti-Asian racism, the intergenerational trauma of incarceration, the dangers of passivity, and internalized oppression, while also illuminating the power of awakening from silence and fighting for justice. Connecting Japanese American discrimination with broader struggles from the local to the global, Awake in the River and Shedding Silence showcases how the renowned poet found power in speaking out.

Poetry and prose explores the author's experiences growing up as an Asian-American and examines the themes of love, war, and family.

"In 1942, the federal government expelled more than 22,000 Japanese Canadians from their homes in British Columbia. From 1942 to 1949, they were dispossessed, sent to incarceration sites, and dispersed across Canada. Over 4,000 were deported to Japan. Cartographies of Violence analyses the effects of these processes for some Japanese Canadian women. Using critical race, feminist, anti-colonial, and cultural geographic theory, Mona Oikawa deconstructs prevalent images, stereotypes, and language used to describe the 'internment' in ways that masks its inherent violence. Through interviews with women survivors and their daughters, Oikawa analyses recurring themes of racism and resistance, as well as the struggle to communicate what happened. Disturbing and provocative, Cartographies of Violence explores women's memories in order to map the effects of forced displacements, incarcerations, and the separations of family, friends, and communities"--Publisher's website.

When The Silence was released in 1963, Bergman's stature allowed the film's depiction of sexuality to challenge the boundaries of the censorship boards in Sweden and the U.S. Yet, Swedish film critic Maaret Koskinen - one of the first scholars given access to Bergman's private papers - found his notebooks revealed his tendency to self-censorship, as well as the difficulties he experienced in writing for the medium of moving images. She draws a picture of Berman that reveals his attempts to make his work relevant to a new generation of filmgoers.

There are thousands of books that represent the Holocaust, but can, and should, the act of reading these works convey the events of genocide to those who did not experience it? In Textual Silence, literary scholar Jessica Lang asserts that language itself is a barrier between the author and the reader in Holocaust texts—and that this barrier is not a lack of substance, but a defining characteristic of the genre. Holocaust texts, which encompass works as diverse as memoirs, novels, poems, and diaries, are traditionally characterized by silences the authors place throughout the text, both deliberately and unconsciously. While a reader may have the desire and will to comprehend the Holocaust, the presence of “textual silence” is a force that removes the experience of genocide from the reader’s analysis and imaginative recourse. Lang defines silences as omissions that take many forms, including the use of italics and quotation marks, ellipses and blank pages in poetry, and the presence of unreliable narrators in fiction. While this limits the reader’s ability to read in any conventional sense, these silences are not flaws. They are instead a critical presence that forces readers to acknowledge how words and meaning can diverge in the face of events as unimaginable as those of the Holocaust.

My name is Tess Turner--at least, that's what I've always been told. I have a voice but it isn't mine. It used to say things so I'd fit in, to please my parents, to please my teachers. It used to tell the universe I was something I wasn't. It lied. It never occurred to me that everyone else was lying too. Fifteen-year-old Tess doesn't mean to become mute. At first, she's just too shocked to speak. And who wouldn't be? Discovering your whole life has been a lie because your dad isn't your real father is a pretty big deal. Terrified of the truth, Tess retreats into silence. Reeling from her family's betrayal, Tess sets out to discover the identity of her real father. He could be anyone--even the familiar-looking teacher at her school. Tess continues to investigate, uncovering a secret that could ruin multiple lives. It all may be too much for Tess to handle, but how can she ask for help when she's forgotten how to use her voice? In a brilliant study of identity, betrayal, and complex family dynamics, award-winning author Annabel Pitcher explores the importance of communication, even when we're faced with unspeakable truths.