New Books in Popular Culture

[Cross-posted from New Books in Latin American Studies] Videography is a powerful tool for recording and representing aspects of human society and culture, and anthropologists have long used – and debated the use of – video as a tool to study indigenous and traditional peoples. Indigenous people themselves, however, have increasingly turn video towards their own cultural and communal ends, and this indigenous use of video raises its own questions: who in indigenous communities will control video production? How can video be integrated into indigenous life? And how should indigenous videomakers relate to state and institutional forces. In Indigenous Media in Mexico: Culture, Community, and the State (Duke University Press, 2013), Erica Cusi Wortham examines these issues in the case of “video indígena” in the  Mexican states of Oaxaca and Chiapas during the 1990s.  Indigenous Media in Mexico places video indígena into the historical context of 1990s Mexico, a period marked by both the constitutional recognition of indigenous groups as integral to the Mexican state, but also by the conflict over NAFTA and the 1994 Zapatista uprising in Chiapas. Video indígena emerged as an initiative of the Mexican Instituto Nacional Indigenista, and was adopted by a range of independent indigenous organizations – some working in collaboration with the state, others in opposition. Through interviews and fieldwork with groups such as Radio y Video Tamix, Ojo de Agua, the K-Xhon Collective, and others, Wortham explores how indigenous videomakers have conceived of video as a tool for activism and community organization, and the difficulties they have faced: problems with equipment and the distribution of their work, but also the deeper problem of developing an accepted social role for video within their own communities.

[Cross-posted from New Books in Pop Music] Conventional wisdom holds that the birth of the rock star came in 1956 with the ascendance of Elvis Presley. Not so, says author Michael Walker, who argues in his page-turning What You Want is in the Limo (Spiegel and Grau, 2013) that in 1973 the Elvis, Chuck Berry and Beatles styled “rock and roll stardom” of the fifties and sixties gave way to “modern rock stardom,” as embodied by the members of Led Zeppelin, the Alice Cooper Band, and the Who. This new way of living and performing came into full bloom that year as these legendary groups toured America in a manner that bore little resemblance to the everybody-jam-in-the-van cross-country rock tours of prior years. With what Walker calls “the infrastructure” of rock stardom now in place, private jets and black limousines whisked these musicians from luxury hotels to cavernous arenas where they performed in front of monstrous crowds. When it was time to wind down after the show, these stars enjoyed the benefits of a “halter-topped, lude-dropping coke-and-glitter-flecked” rock culture that fetishized depravity and provided riches previously unheard of in the music business. While Walker’s addictive and fun book provides the kind of sordid and hedonistic details that are the makings of all great rock biographies, he also offers up the morality play corrective that demonstrates the costs of this manner of living. Alice Cooper later conceded that his record-breaking 1973 tour “wrecked” his band, which broke up soon after. For Led Zeppelin, the years following 1973 saw the band enter a “creative funk that stoke[d] rumors that the band is cursed.” The Who, Walker writes, departed "the decade after a pair of desultory albums.” But before the fall, these musicians threw one hell of a yearlong party. Michael Walker is the author of the national bestseller Laurel Canyon: The Inside Story of Rock-and-Roll’s Legendary Neighborhood. His writing has appeared in the New York Times, the Los Angeles Times, the Washington Post, and Rolling Stone, among other publications. He lives in Los Angeles and can reached via Twitter @mwwwalker.

Kevin KerraneView on AmazonKevin Kerrane's Dollar Sign on the Muscle: The World of Baseball Scouting (CreateSpace, 2013) represents the first major study of the history and practice of professional baseball scouting.  Based on Kerrane's ethnographic research with the Philadelphia Phillies during the 1981 season, the book provides an inside look at one of sports' least understood professions and most unusual subcultures. Originally released in 1984, the book became a cult favorite among baseball analysts and historians, eventually finding a place on Sports Illustrated's list of the top 100 sports books of all time.  For the past decade the book has been notoriously hard to find, with copies selling for up to $50 on eBay.  It is now widely available in rerelease from Baseball Prospectus, the leading voice in progressive, contemporary baseball research. In addition to the original text, the rerelease features a new introduction and an extended epilogue updating the book for the 2010s.

[Cross-posted from New Books in Biography] In the field of children's programming, few people- with the possible exception of Fred Rogers- are as beloved as Jim Henson, a contributor to Sesame Street and Saturday Night Live, but most famous for his creation of the Muppets. And yet, he's remained an enigmatic figure in the years since his death. People remember the Muppets and they remember Jim, but they don't know much about him. Jim Henson: The Biography (Ballantine Books, 2013), by Brian Jay Jones, is thus an effort to correct that and to pin down the puppeteer: as a man, a husband, a father, and an innovator. For, with the passage of time, we've come to take the Muppets and their maker rather for granted. They've been around for over fifty years so it's easy to forget they had to be invented. It's equally easy to forget how ground-breaking an invention- along with Henson's other innovations- they were. As Jerry Juhl, the first official employee of Muppet's Inc., reminds us in Jim Henson: "This guy was like a sailor who had studied the compass and found that there was a fifth direction in which one could sail." And how doggedly he sailed. Henson worked relentlessly, not simply at a job but at his passions. As Jones notes, one of his top business objectives as to "work for the common good of all mankind." And that is, in the end, perhaps one of the most striking things to emerge from Jim Henson: the fact that Henson was who he appeared to be. A complicated man, yes, with complications in his private life, but also a gentle soul who truly wanted to make the world a better place. And, also, a man who is, to this day, deeply beloved by all who knew and worked with him. Henson once wrote: "My hope still is to leave this world a little bit better for my being here." As Jones's biography proves, he did.

[Cross-posted from New Books in Music] Thomas Bey William Bailey is the author of Unofficial Release: Self-Released and Handmade Audio in Post-Industrial Society (Belsona Books, 2012). He is a psycho-acoustic sound artist and writer on saturation culture. Thomas traces the history of self-released audio from its origins in mail-art networks of the 1970s to the present day practice of using antiquated media – the humble cassette tape – for the dissemination of experimental sounds. Net-labels, mp3 blogs, tape traders, and their many casts of characters are examined along the way as changing technologies impact the strategies for resilience among self-releasing audio artists.

[Cross-posted from New Books in Communication] In Authentic™: The Politics of Ambivalence in a Brand Culture, Sarah Banet-Weiser scrutinizes the spread of brand culture into other spheres of social life that the market—at least in our imaginations—had left untouched: politics, religion, creativity, and the self. Banet-Weiser observes that the authenticity concept seems to carry more weight in a culture of selling: We have come to expect, and to some extent accept, that authenticity, like everything else, can be trademarked. Through rich case studies—Dove ad campaigns, Facebook self-performance, street art, green activism, and New Age spirituality among them—Authentic™ identifies the pervasive (and often troubling) ambivalence of branded living.

[Cross-posted from New Books in Journalism] In October 2007, journalist Eric Simons sat in the stands of Memorial Stadium in Berkeley, Calif., to watch his beloved University of California Bears take on Oregon State University in football. If Cal won, it almost certainly would be ranked No. 1 in the country. Instead, Simons agonized as Cal’s quarterback struggled through the final play. Cal lost. Simons suffered a miserable train ride home to San Francisco. But from crushing defeat sprang an idea for his latest book, The Secret Lives of Sports Fans: The Science of Sports Obsession (The Overlook Press, 2013). A science and nature writer by trade, Simons sought scientific explanations for the physical and emotional reactions experienced by sports fans., “We are not subject to any kind of fan nature; we are more complex than that,” Simons writes. “We sports fan are glorious expressions of all the wondrous quirks and oddities in human nature.” Through the lens of sport and sports fans, Simons has built a unique window into what it means to be human.

[Cross-posted from New Books in History] Before the Second World War, very few Americans visited psychologists or psychiatrists. Today, millions and millions of Americans do. How did seeing a "shrink" become, quite suddenly, a typical part of the "American Experience?" In his fascinating book Shrink: A Cultural History of Psychoanalysis in America (Nebraska University Press, 2013), Lawrence R. Samuel examines the arrival, remarkable growth, and transformation of psychoanalysis in the United States. As Samuel shows, Americans have a kind of love-hate relationship with their "shrinks": sometimes they love them and sometimes they loath them. The "shrinks" seem to know that their clients are fickle, and so they "re-brand" their technique with some regularity. Sometimes it's "analysis," sometimes it's "therapy," sometimes it's just "counseling." But, regardless of what it's called, it's always some variation on the "talking cure" and it can always be traced to Freud.

[Cross-posted from New Books in Food]  When we think of the stuff that dreams are made on, we might think of the spirits that Shakespeare’s Prospero conjures up in "The Tempest"; we might think of stars, rainbows, maybe even wishing wells, but what probably doesn’t leap to mind is a loaf of Wonder Bread. And yet, ever since the invention of the mass-manufactured loaf of white bread in the 1920s, that spongy tasteless loaf has been a way in which Americans have defined themselves and one another. In his new book, White Bread: A Social History of the Store-Bought Loaf (Beacon Press, 2012), Aaron Bobrow-Strain shows us how that familiar slice of white bread is much more than a food. It’s a symbol, one that in its nearly hundred-year-old existence has come to represent “the apex of modern progress and the specter of physical decay, the promise of a better future to come and America’s fall from small-town agrarian virtue.” The history Bobrow-Strain tells us ranges from the immigrant bakeries of turn-of-the-century America to the Cold War to the rise of yuppie and “locavore” eating habits. It’s a history, as he writes, “of the countless social reformers, food experts, industry executives, government officials, diet gurus, and ordinary eaters who have thought that getting Americans to eat the right bread (or avoid the wrong bread) could save the world—or at least restore the country’s moral, physical, and social fabric.

[Cross-posted from New Books in East Asian Studies] You may come for the Astro Boy or Afro Samurai, but you’ll stay for the innovative ways that Ian Condry’s new book brings together analyses of transmedia practice, collaboration, and materialities of democracy. The Soul of Anime: Collaborative Creativity and Japan’s Media Success Story (Duke University Press, 2013) is based on ethnographic fieldwork in a range of spaces of anime production that include studios, toy factories, fan conventions, and online communities. What results is a fascinating exploration of how the social aspects of media generate successful anime tv programs and films, forms of labor, and ways of thinking about masculinity, love, and modern life. Condry argues that collaborative creativity has been central to producing the social energy necessary for the global success of Japanese anime. For Condry, it also helps explain a broader “globalization from below” whereby new forms of media emerge from local and grassroots efforts to appeal to and impact a diverse range of audiences. Through a series of case studies that observe contemporary and historical anime production practices from different angles, readers of The Soul of Anime are offered a window into the many forms of labor necessary to produce the many different media that collectively make up anime production, from the painstaking production of handmade storyboards to the conceiving of innovative characters and worlds that serve as platforms for the creation and circulation of anime stories. In addition to all of this, there are little boy samurais with wind-up keys in their heads, gods that speak only in rap, egg-shaped characters that get hard-boiled when stressed out, mega-robots, men who want to marry 2D anime character-ladies, and a cameo by Samuel L. Jackson. Enjoy!

[Cross-posted from New Books in Biography] Forty years after its debut, The Mary Tyler Moore Show remains one of the most beloved and successful television sitcoms of all time. But Jennifer Keishin Armstrong's Mary and Lou and Rhoda and Ted: And all the Brilliant Minds Who Made The Mary Tyler Moore Show a Classic (Simon & Schuster, 2013) isn't a simple episode recap. Rather, it's a deep excavation of the show's history from the perspective of the cas came t, the producers, a fan, and- perhaps most fascinating- the writers. You might ask, How is this biography? It is because, ultimately, Armstrong is writing about lives- the lives of the people involved in the show, the lives from which they pulled their material, and how their lives together, often haphazardly, to produce extraordinary TV. The Mary Tyler Moore Show depicted a woman's work life, so it's not too surprising that Mary and Lou and Rhoda and Ted does the same. However, the workplace that emerges is a revelation: with men recognizing the value of women's stories and actively seeking women for the writing staff; with women writers mining their own lives for material and producing scripts that incorporate the everyday experiences of women, which were- at that time- seldom represented on TV. We remember The Mary Tyler Moore Show because it was well-crafted and funny. But, as Mary and Lou and Rhoda and Ted reminds us, the show came about in an environment that promoted equality and where the gifts of women were encouraged. Such environments are, sadly, still rare.

Matthew DelmontView on AmazonMatthew Delmont's The Nicest Kids in Town: American Bandstand, Rock 'n' Roll, and the Struggle for Civil Rights in 1950s Philadelphia (University of California Press, 2012) weaves a fascinating narrative in which the content of a popular television show is only one element of its phenomenal impact. Nor is American Bandstand's popularity the limit of Delmont's interest. In The Nicest Kids in Town, American Bandstand marks the confluence of competing, contradictory, and even some complementary forces in 1950s Philadelphia: local civil rights activism, inter-ethnic tensions, defensive localism, housing discrimination, and concerns over youth behavior influenced the content and reception of the program. Part of the book's brilliance lies in its use of character to create a sense of the place and time. From smaller characters like Walter Palmer, a black teen who organized against the segregation of Bandstand, to earnest liberal anti-segregationists like Maurice Fagan, whose treatment is more extensive, to the television icon Dick Clark, Delmont makes the people in the book both historical agents and complex human beings. Though it is most unusual as a piece of scholarship in so fully evoking a time and place filled with real people, The Nicest Kids in Town is equally a model for American Studies research. Delmont's painstaking thoroughness yields incredible specificity, which is most useful to making major claims about the importance of popular culture and about particular cultural products. Finally, the book offers a perspective on the major industrial shifts in the television and music industries of the period, revealing how the displacement and/or appropriation of local talent and culture through the giant apparatus of television both expanded TV's possibilities and complicated (for better and worse) the potential for local change. In addition to the book itself (which is available both in text and for Kindle) and its website, and the author's website , check out The Nicest Kids in Town digital project  which includes 100 related images and video clips including American Bandstand memorabilia, newspaper clippings regarding protests of American Bandstand, photographs from high school yearbooks, and video clips from American Bandstand.

[Cross-posted from New Books in Eastern European Studies] We all know socialism failed in Eastern Europe and that failure reflected two great shortcomings: a lack of democracy and an economic system that consistently fell short in providing its ostensible benefactors, the workers, with consumer goods from housing to fashion. Yet paradoxically the more ingrained these truths become the more obscure the complexities of life under socialism become.  It is all fine and good to point to rational irrationality of the planned economy, and the lack of space for individual entrepreneurship, but that tells us only part of the story.  Until their collapse socialist societies shaped how everyone from architects to vacationers lived their lives, and our ability to understand socialism, as well as how and why it ultimately failed so miserably, depends not just on understanding the great events, but also every day lives. Over a decade ago David Crowley and Susan Reid invited scholars to explore issues concerned with everyday life in post-war socialism.  The result has been three edited volumes that have been widely acclaimed.  The first Style and Socialism (2000) considered issues of design ranging from the how the Khrushchev Thaw changed ideas about shopping in Poland to the embrace of plastics in the German Democratic Republic.  The second, Socialist Spaces (2002) looked at different aspects of how space was conceived and used during the same period including articles about the negotiation involved in the rebuilding of Sevastopol after World War II, on dachas and apartments, as well as monuments.  With Pleasures in Socialism:Leisure and Luxury in the Eastern Block (Northwestern University Press, 2010), they have concluded their trilogy by looking at the topic of luxury and leisure, which affords us a new glimpse at the dilemmas posed by high fashion, the use of tobacco and alcohol, erotica, and fur and automobile ownership among other things.  It was a pleasure to speak to them on those subjects as well as collaborative work process that brought these three books to fruition.

Jennifer FrostView on AmazonAny pop culture scholar worth her salt will tell you that discussion of Beyonce's baby bump or Charlie Sheen's unique sex life is far from apolitical, but, at times, gossip columnists have engaged more transparently in political debate. Hedda Hopper, Hollywood insider and conservative hat enthusiast, was one such columnist. Jennifer Frost's book, Hedda Hopper's Hollywood: Celebrity Gossip and American Conservatism (New York University Press, 2011), lays out the political issues on which Hopper felt called to weigh in, including American involvement in World War II, wartime civil liberties, anti-Communism and the Hollywood blacklist, and civil rights. Hopper used her role as a celebrity gossiper to communicate her political ideology: celebrities and their stories were often conduits through which she could express her conservative views. Her support for Hattie McDaniel, for example, was a way for Hopper to comment on her preferred performance of blackness. A strong believer in the sanctity of family, she considered Frank Sinatra a "hypocrite" for warning about the dangers of juvenile delinquency, while being a "delinquent" (womanizer) himself. Given her power as a gossip columnist, stars who ran afoul of Hopper's politics took considerable risk. Frost uses letters from Hopper's readers to explore the strange intimacies and (sometimes politicized) affiliations readers felt with Hopper and, by extension, with the celebrities whose lives she revealed. In this way, Frost offers a private side to the public nature of gossip, and this she threads through the book, even noting Hopper's protection of her own privacy. Hopper is a particularly fascinating case, but Frost clearly sees the Hopper phenomenon as part of a larger strain of American political culture in the celebrity era. The boundaries between celebrity news and politics are as permeable as ever, and the difference between CNN and Perez Hilton is disturbingly unclear. Hedda Hopper's Hollywood points out that the roots of this strange convergence are deeper than we often acknowledge.

View on AmazonIn my work with pre-Hispanic and colonial Mexican pictorial texts, I often wish I could talk with the people who authored them.  In the academic setting, sometimes we forget that these documents represent conversations about what was happening in the lives of many people at the time they were created and that some aspects of these materials that we have found in archives or ancient cities are still part of the cultural heritage and daily lives of the descendants of the creators. Ethelia Ruíz Medrano helps us realize that the study of popular culture also can mean the sharing of knowledge.  Ruíz Medrano's research in the tiny town of Santa María Cuquila has led to a new way of thinking about our pasts and how they connect with our presents. Ruíz Medrano's book Mexico's Indigenous Communities: Their Lands and Histories, 1500-2010 is a best-selling work on popular culture from the University of Colorado Press. Indigenous Communities traces a new context for our Amerindian heritage.  Ruíz Medrano examines local administrative power and the resolution of community issues as functions of life today in much the same way as they were 500 years ago.  At the same time, these communities are also rooted in the twenty first century.  Many community members have relatives and friends in the United States.  They keep in touch with cell phones and text messages while also seeking answers in their pictorial documents and oral and cultural accounts. Ruíz Medrano has become their student and her book offers a fascinating study of past and present, and of a community of teachers for this scholar-student.