Bücher veröffentlicht von Texas Tech University Press

While mainstream Vietnamese history chronicles a few woman warriors of the past and some contemporary female activists, Vietnamese women always have performed their roles in the quiet shadows of men. To illuminate those shadows, Quan Manh Ha and Quynh H. Vo have brought into English the first anthology of its kind, featuring twenty-two contemporary stories written by Vietnamese women whose narratives make visible the multitudinous lives of Vietnamese women over the last two decades. All the stories in Longings appear in English for the first time, inviting new readers to appreciate the "Longings" or aspirations of Vietnamese women as they have had to face suffering and struggle, hope and despair, sorrow and joy, while navigating an uncharted course through the social and economic waves that have lifted or lowered their lives since the US-Vietnam normalization in the mid-1990s. The wife in Da Ngan's "The Innermost Feelings of White Pillows" suppresses sexual frustration at her husband's impotence by stuffing her pillows with new fibers. The rural women in Tran Thuy Mai's "Green Plums" have no choice but to become prostitutes to earn a living. The mother in Pham Thi Phong Diep's "Mother and Son" demonstrates an unconditional sacrifice and ineffable love for her adopted son despite his insolence and ingratitude. A woman in Nguyen Thi Chau Giang's "Late Moon" violates all prescribed gender norms in order to live freely. Longings brings together stories by both well-established and emerging Vietnamese writers, those who come from various regions in Vietnam and represent the diversity and richness in Vietnamese short fiction. This anthology expands the audience for deserving authors and broadens perspective on the heterogeneous voices, narrative styles, and thematic interests of women who contribute to the growing corpus of contemporary Vietnamese short fiction.

Breaking a thirty-year silence, B¿o Ninh has permitted at last the publication of a new work in English. Ninh is perhaps Vietnam's foremost chronicler of the war, which he joined at age 17. Bringing to life the full range of his inventive and poetic language, Quan Manh Ha and Cab Tran are granting to English readers B¿o Ninh's first book-length work since The Sorrow of War, which catapulted him to fame and which was banned in Vietnam until 2006. In Hà N¿i at Midnight, ten stories are appearing in the West for the first time. Juxtaposed with tranquility and geniality are abandoned landscapes and defoliated forests. Polluted rivers and streams, the war-torn sky, pungent air filled with the stench of decomposing human corpses, and the deafening roar of helicopters and bombers hovering in the gloom dominate the settings of B¿o Ninh's stories. Intertwined with these horrific images are human tears shed during farewell ceremonies, when recruits are separated from their loved ones, when parents live in anxiety and hope while their children are fighting in remote regions, and when soldiers bury their comrades and burden themselves with the fallen's unfulfilled wishes. Hà N¿i at Midnight delineates the complex outpourings of war and the way it remakes human relationships.

Leesa Ross did not expect to write a book. Neither did she expect the tragedy that her family endured, a horrific and sudden death that led her to write At Close Range. Her debut memoir is the story of what happened after her son Jon died in a freak gun accident at a party. Ross unsparingly shares the complexities of grief as it ripples through the generations of her family, then chronicles how the loss of Jon has sparked a new life for her as a prominent advocate for gun safety. Before the accident, Ross never had a motivation to consider the role that guns played in her life. Now, she revisits ways in which guns became a part of everyday life for her three sons and their friends. Ross's attitude towards guns is thorny. She has collectors and hunters in her family. To balance her advocacy, she joined both Moms Demand Action and the NRA. Through At Close Range, the national conversation about gun control plays out in one family's catalyzing moment and its aftermath. However, At Close Range ultimately shows one mother's effort to create meaning from tragedy and find a universally reasonable position and focal point: gun safety and responsible ownership.

On Monday, December 4, 1967, a body was discovered in the science building of the largest university in West Texas. The next day, citizens of Lubbock gathered for the Carol of Lights, and event typically the centerpiece of the holidays for the quiet college town. But in 1967, the normal festive excitement and anticipation was shockingly and swiftly shattered by the harrowing events that had occurred just twenty-four hours earlier. For the first time, the story of this shocking murder has been painstakingly reconstructed by Alan Burton and Chuck Lanehart. Piecing together timelines based on interviews, journalists' archives, courtroom transcripts, and the personal experiences of Lubbockites, Fatal Exam situates the murder, relates the capture, and details the trial of the crime's perpetrator. Not your standard psychopathic master, the criminal at this story's center cuts a challenging profile, and his story shines an unusual light on the criminal justice system. Fatal Exam is a crime story, but it's also the story of its biggest university in West Texas and the peculiar town-and-gown relationship that comes in such a far-flung setting.

What if the harbinger of our greener future was a small power plant set in the middle of nowhere in West Texas? Longtime alternative energy executive Andy Bowman's book makes exactly this case, outlining what he suggests is a more sustainable future for American capitalism. Newly revised and updated for 2023, The West Texas Power Plant that Saved the World, offers the Barilla solar plant in Pecos County as a test case for the state of renewable energy in the twenty-first century United States. Bowman explains the climate science that necessitated this shift and makes business-based arguments for what the future should look like. The result is a book that tells a personal story of West Texan innovation, gumption and vision, while outlining how our society needs to work in partnership with all stakeholders to confront climate change.

The title of this debut collection, Nothing Follows, is re-appropriated from a government document establishing the beginning of a refugee family's time in the United States. At every coordinate of their lives, the refugee family provides affidavits, letters, and reams of paperwork as they work to beseech those in power to grant them "family reunification" visas for those they had to leave behind in 1975 after the fall of Saigon. Nothing Follows draws from the genres of memoir and poetry. Written from a young girl's perspective, the center of this world is a military father, an absent mother, sisters who come and go, broken brothers, and friends she meets in San José. With each place the book travels through--from Butler, Pennsylvania, to San José, California--we see that racism, objectification, and sexual violence permeate the realities of the narrator and those close to her. In marking the journey, Lan Duong recreates the portraits of the girl's friends and family and maps out refugee girlhoods. Spiked with violence, pleasure, and longing, these refuges are questionable sanctuaries for those refugee girls who have grown up during the 1980s in the aftermath of war.

The conflict in Vietnam has been rewritten and reframed into many corners of American life and has long shadowed contemporary political science and foreign policy. The war and its aftermath have engendered award-winning films and books. It has held up a mirror to the twentieth century and to the wars of the twenty-first. Set in wartime Vietnam and contemporary Vietnam, in wartime America and in America today, the stories that comprise Memorial Days were written from 1973 to the present. As our continuing reappraisals of the war's shadow have unspooled over the last half-decade, so too has Wayne Karlin returned to the subject in his fiction, collected and published together here for the first time. A girl in Maryland runs away from Civil War reenactors she imagines to be American soldiers in Vietnam, while a woman in Vietnam hides in the jungle from an American helicopter and another tries to bury the relics of the war. A man mourns a friend lost in Iraq while a helicopter crewman in Quang Tri loads the broken and dead into his aircraft. Extras playing soldiers in a war film in present-day Vietnam model themselves after other war films while a Marine in a war sees himself as a movie character. A snake coiled around the collective control of a helicopter in Vietnam uncoils in a soldier come home from Iraq. The chronology is the chronology of dreams or nightmares or triggered flashbacks: images and incidents triggering other images and incidents in a sequence that seems to make no sense--which is exactly the sense it makes. Some stories burn with the fresh experiences of a Marine witnessing war firsthand. Some stories radiate a long-abiding grief. All the stories reflect and reconfigure the Vietnam War as it echoes into the present century, under the light of retrospection.

What lies beneath the ground? Our poor eyesight cannot penetrate even an inch into the soil, so for centuries, fortune-seekers have tried every way imaginable to see below the surface. Whether searching for mineral veins, groundwater, or buried treasure, people have looked for ways to avoid the plodding and backbreaking process of digging. They have followed dreams, seers, dowsing rods, and advice from the spirit world. When petroleum became an item of commerce, oil-hunters took to all these methods. Many built homemade inventions called doodlebugs, which they said could detect underground oil. It took a while, but science finally came up with its own toolbox of oil-finding methods in the early twentieth century. Finding oil is still expensive and risky, however. The old ways? They are mostly gone, but a few oil-dowsers still stride across fields with rod or pendulum, and no doubt people still consult dreams and psychics. And don't pretend that you yourself haven't wondered if that dowser might be onto something, or if that famous psychic can really tell where there is oil, or if that inventor stumbled onto a better way to detect underground oil. Of course you have. History is written by the victors, and scientists won over the oil industry--rightly so. But their accounts give short shrift to the rich history of less traditional ways to find oil. Although ignored, the records of nonscientific methods and their contributions to the oil business are well worthy of study. Lacking in science, they are rich in humanity. Return with us now to those thrilling days of yesteryear . . . wait, scratch that . . .these things are still going on. Join us in a visit to a place where dreams, seers, and spooks are taken seriously, where forked twigs dip toward oil pools and homemade oil-finding gizmos blink or beep with the promise of riches tucked just below the surface of the known world.

Blackdom, New Mexico, was a township that lasted about thirty years. In this book, Timothy E. Nelson situates the township's story where it belongs: along the continuum of settlement in Mexico's Northern Frontier. Dr. Nelson illuminates the set of conscious efforts that helped Black pioneers develop Blackdom Township into a frontier boomtown. "Blackdom" started as an inherited idea of a nineteenth-century Afrotopia. The idea of creating a Blackdom was refined within Black institutions as part of the perpetual movement of Black Colonization. In 1903, thirteen Black men, encouraged by the 1896 Plessy decision, formed the Blackdom Townsite Company and set out to make Blackdom a real place in New Mexico, wher ethey were outside the reach of Jim Crow laws. Many believed that Blackdom was simply abandoned. However, new evidence shows that the scheme to build generational wealth continued toexist throughout the twentieth century in other forms. During Blackdom's boomtimes, in December 1919, Blackdom Oil Company shifted town business from aregenerative agricultural community to a more extractive model. Nelson has uncovered new primary source materials that suggest for Blackdom a newlydiscovered third decade. This story has never been fully told or contextualized until now. Reoriented to Mexico's "northern frontier," one observes Black ministers, Black military personnel, and Black freemasons who colonized as part of the transmogrification of Indigenous spaces into the American West. Nelson's concept of the Afro-Frontier evokes a "Turnerian West," but it is also fruitfully understood as a Weberian "Borderland." Its history highlights a brief period and space that nurtured Black cowboy culture. While Blackdom's civic presence was not lengthy, its significance--and that of the Afro-Frontier--is an important window in the history of Afrotopias, Black Consciousness, and the notion of an American West.

On the evening of July 11, 1967, a Navy surveillance aircraft spotted a suspicious trawler in international waters heading toward the Quang Ngai coast of South Vietnam. While the ship tried to appear innocuous on its deck, Saigon quickly identified it as an enemy gunrunner, codenamed Skunk Alpha. A four-seaborne intercept task force was established and formed a barrier inside South Vietnam's twelve-mile territorial boundary. As the enemy ship ignored all orders to surrender and neared the Sa Ky River at the tip of the Batangan Peninsula, Swift Boat PCF-79 was ordered to take the trawler under fire. What followed was ship-to-ship combat action not seen since World War II. Capturing Skunk Alpha relates that breathtaking military encounter to readers for the first time. But Capturing Skunk Alpha is also the tale of one sailor's journey to the deck of PCF-79. Two years earlier, Raúl Herrera was growing up on the west side of San Antonio, Texas, when he answered the call to duty and joined the US Navy. Raúl was assigned to PCF Crew Training and joined a ragtag six-man Swift Boat crew with a mission to prevent the infiltration of resupply ships from North Vietnam. The brave sailors who steered into harm's way in war-torn Vietnam would keep more than ninety tons of ammunition and supplies from the Viet Cong and NVA forces. The Viet Cong would post a bounty on PCF-79; Premier Nguy¿n Cao K¿ and Chief of State Nguy¿n V¿nThi¿u would congratulate and decorate them for their heroism. Capturing Skunk Alpha provides an eyewitness account of a pivotal moment in Navy operations while also chronicling one sailor's unlikely journey from barrio adolescence to perilous combat action on the high seas.

Unaccustomed Mercy brings together in one volume many of the finest poets and finest poems to emerge from America's trial in Vietnam. The moral chaos of that war is here translated into the aesthetic order of art. Subject matter aside, this book contains works of true literature, poems born of passion and made good by skill, poems that will haunt the human spirit as long as art endures. This is a uniformly superb collection, the best I've come across.Unaccustomed Mercy will do for Vietnam poetry what Platoon did for Vietnam movies -- hit the senses with the force of a claymore.