What makes Kansas City Kansas City? To celebrate the arrival of Rebecca Solnit, author of the spellbinding book Infinite City: A San Francisco Atlas, we’re giving away a signed book and a vintage map to the best idea for a new, unconventional map of KC.
What's it like to be the in-house historian for the United States Senate? Before he visits the Library on Monday, February 20, Donald A. Ritchie told us about how Congress has changed – and how it hasn't – in the past 200 years.
As a boy in South Africa, Zakes Mda saw his father dragged off by police in the middle of the night. His crime was criticizing the racist white government.
He saw family friend Nelson Mandela thrown into prison for his opposition to apartheid.
And while still a teen he followed his father into exile in the British Protectorate of Basutoland (now Lesotho) – all because of the belief that black Africans should control their own destinies.
That would seem more than enough reason for Mda (pronounced mmmm-DAH) to nurse a case of anger and bitterness.
And yet those negative emotions are nowhere to be found in his new memoir, Sometimes There Is A Void.
Mda, 63, says it’s because of Ubuntu, an African philosophy that embraces brotherhood, charity and interconnectedness.
It’s a bit like the American concept of “forgive and forget,” Mda explained in a recent phone conversation from Athens, Ohio, where he teaches creative writing at the University of Ohio.
“The forgive part is very important. But not the forget part. We don’t want to forget. What happened in the past is part of who we are, part of our identity. We remember so that the lessons of the past can be used in the future.”
Way before online personals were a twinkle in Craig Newmark’s eye, our Victorian forebears had their own version of dating services to assist them in the search for a mate.
“The were called matrimonial advertisements, though we’d think of them as Victorian personal ads,” says Jennifer Phegley, chair of the UMKC English Department and author of the new book Courtship and Marriage in Victorian England.
“It turns out that in the 1850s Victorians began regularly advertising for love. That wasn’t something I’d ever read about in the canonical novels of the period.”
Phegley discusses the Victorian road to love in a free presentation on Thursday, February 9 at 6:30 p.m. in the Central Library, 14 W. 10th St.
Admission is free. A 6 p.m. reception precedes the event. RSVP online or call 816.701.3407. Free parking is available at the Library District Parking Garage at 10th and Baltimore.
In honor of Valentine’s Day, the Kansas City Public Library is inviting its online fans to write personal ads for their favorite characters from Victorian literature. The writer of the best ad will receive a box of Christopher Elbow chocolates and a free copy of Jennifer Phegley’s book Courtship and Marriage in Victorian England.
SWF, 18, seeks wealthy, stylish husband…
Despite the images of chivalrous lads and chaste ladies, the Victorians were an amorous bunch. For evidence, one need only pick up a newspaper from the era … and flip to the back.
That’s right. Ladies and gents in the mid-19th century found love through the advent of a new medium – one that isn’t so far off from today’s online social media sites like OKCupid and Match.com.
“In the 1850s, Victorians began regularly advertising for love,” Phegley says. “They were called ‘matrimonial advertisements,’ though we’d think of them as Victorian personal ads.”
There are lots of college football rivalries. But the annual collision of Army and Navy is in a league of its own. Even for people who don’t follow either team during the fall, the season-capping Army-Navy game is a big deal.
Part of that is tradition. In the pre-Super Bowl era, the Army-Navy game was widely considered the most important football contest of the year.
Maybe it has to do with the fact that these are true amateurs playing for the love of the sport. Few graduates of Annapolis or West Point will go on to play professional football after completion of their military service.
Instead they’re playing for tradition and honor and inter-service bragging rights – and the fans appreciate that.
What does Star Trek have to do with Kansas City journalist Edgar Snow, let alone Richard Nixon’s 1972 visit to the People’s Republic of China to meet with Mao Tse-Tung?
In his new book A Team for America: The Army-Navy Game that Rallied a Nation, historian Randy Roberts talks about the pivotal 1944 football game that came to symbolize national pride in a time of war.
Wendell Potter has good news and bad news. The bad news, according to him, is that health care in America is sick. Life expectancy and infant mortality rates here are lower than in some Third World countries. People die because they can’t get insurance – upwards of 45,000 a year.
This past Thursday at the Plaza Branch, U.S. Supreme Court Justice Stephen Breyer stood before a crowd of nearly 700 people and made a strong case for civic literacy in the face of cynicism.
Joseph Heller was lying in bed in his four-room apartment on the West Side of Manhattan, New York, when suddenly it came to him: It was love at first sight. The first time he saw the chaplain, Someone fell madly in love with him.
The next morning, Heller went to work at the Madison Avenue ad agency where he was a copywriter and wrote, in longhand, the first chapter of what would become his masterpiece.
“Before the end of the week I had typed it out and sent it to Candida Donadio, my agent,” Heller recalled in a 1974 interview with George Plimpton. “One year later, after much planning, I began chapter two.”
That was 1953. Over the next eight years, in what would prove a laborious, agonizing, and, in retrospect, appropriately postmodern, process, Heller began birthing a book titled Catch-18. Working from a series of index cards, Heller crafted a nonlinear, looping, hilarious, and irreverent fictional narrative based on his career as a B-25 bombardier in World War Two.
As Donadio began shopping the manuscript, many editors found it incomprehensible.
We all know Emma Lazarus for giving voice to the Statue of Liberty through her sonnet "The New Colossus" (Give me your tired, your poor). But as Esther Schor shows in her enthralling biography of Lazarus, she was a feminist, a Zionist and an internationally famous Jewish-American writer – before those categories even existed.
One of the greatest artistic collaborations in Missouri history is on display right now at the Central Library. Our exhibit Mark Twain and Tom Benton: Pictures, Prose, and Song features illustrations Benton made for three limited edition Twain novels, along with lithographs by Benton, a record album, first edition Twain books, and portraits of both men.
In his new book, Genius of Place, biographer Justin Martin says that Frederick Law Olmsted “may well be the most important American historical figure that the average person knows least about.”
If the average person, indeed, knows him at all, it’s most likely for Olmsted’s famous design of New York’s Central Park or possibly the U.S. Capitol Grounds. But as Martin, a former Kansas Citian, shows, there was a lot more to Olmsted than his green grounds.
“Fred-Law” (as his family sometimes called him) was born in Hartford, Conn., in 1822 – a time when Missouri was the westernmost state and middle names were fairly uncommon. The first three decades of his life would take him through a series of wildly divergent and fascinating careers before he more or less fell into the role of America’s premier landscape architect.
This Wednesday, September 7, 2011, at the Central Library, Martin returns to Kansas City to discuss not only Olmsted’s impact on the urban American landscape (and, by extension, its psyche) but also Olmsted’s other lives – as sailor, farmer, journalist, abolitionist, Civil War medic in an early version of the Red Cross, environmentalist, and, above all, reformer. The event begins at 6:30 p.m. following a 6 p.m. reception. RSVP now.
What do you call one part Southern Comfort, three parts cranberry juice, and a squeeze of lime shaken and served up in a martini glass? Answer: a bibulous good time for a bibliophile like yourself at the Kansas City Public Library this Tuesday night.
The name of the cocktail described above is the Scarlett O’Hara. It was invented by a post-Prohibition New York liquor distributor to boost sales by capitalizing on the mass popularity of Margaret Mitchell’s 1936 blockbuster novel.
The drink, like its namesake heroine, appealed to a deep-seated American nostalgia for a quainter, simpler, more genteel Old South – the antebellum land of plantations, moonlight, and magnolias, far away from the technological clatter and urban nightmares up North.
It was, unfortunately, also a South filled with reprehensible ethnic stereotypes.
In her new book, Dreaming of Dixie: How the South Was Created in American Popular Culture, University of North Carolina – Charlotte historian Karen L. Cox argues that pervading American conceptions of the South were framed by those who did not live there, i.e. white Americans of the East Coast.