This first reprint of Knister’s verse in more than 20 years represents a major step forward, collecting dozens of poems for the first time in book form and printing 30 additional poems, as well as numerous letters and prose pieces.

“A marvel—endlessly inventive, witty.” —Booklist (starred review) From New York Times bestselling author Andrew Smith comes the stunning, long-awaited sequel to the groundbreaking Printz Honor Book Grasshopper Jungle. It’s been sixteen years since an army of horny, hungry, six-foot-tall praying mantises forced Arek’s family underground and into the hole where he was born; it’s the only home he’s ever known. But now, post-end-of-the-world, the army of horny, hungry praying mantises might finally be dying out, and Arek’s ready to leave the hole for good. All he has are mysterious letters from Breakfast, a naked, wild boy traveling the countryside with his silent companion, Olive. Together, Arek and his best friend Mel, who stowed away in his van, navigate their way through the ravaged remains of the outside world. This long-awaited sequel to the irreverent, groundbreaking Printz Honor Book Grasshopper Jungle is riveting, compelling, and even more hilarious and beautifully bizarre than its predecessor.

In this study, Fredrik Hagglund presents an interpretation based on a hypothesis that conflicts emerged between the people in the land of Israel and those who returned from exile. He analyzes these conflicts with the help of contemporary refugee studies, other texts of the Old Testament, and also relevant passages in Isa 40-55. At the end of the exile, there was hope that the deported people would return to Israel, that it would be rebuilt, and that Jerusalem would again flourish. This hope is most clearly expressed in Isa 40:1-52:10. However, as time went by, there was a realization that the envisaged glorious return was in reality a rather limited return, and the joy of receiving those who returned had turned into conflicts, not least regarding the possession of land and the availability of places to live. In this situation, someone probably reflected on the message of Isa 40:1-52:10 and sought to understand what had gone wrong. Isa 53 was then inserted as an explanation of how the people in the land of Israel, i.e. the we, should have received those who returned, i.e. the servant. If this embrace had taken place, Mother Zion would have rejoiced, as described in Isa 54. Instead of these pictures painted for us in Isa 53 and 54, we encounter the reality of the conflicts described in Isa 56-66.

Can an exiled writer ever really go home again? What of the writers of Argentina, Uruguay, and Chile, whose status as exiles in the 1970s and 1980s largely defined their identities and subject matter? After Exile takes a critical look at these writers, at the effect of exile on their work, and at the complexities of homecoming -- a fraught possibility when democracy was restored to each of these countries. Both famous and lesser known writers people this story of dislocation and relocation, among them Jose Donoso, Ana Vasquez, Luisa Valenzuela, Cristina Peri Rossi, and Mario Benedetti. In their work -- and their predicament -- Amy K. Kaminsky considers the representation of both physical uprootedness and national identity -- or, more precisely, an individual's identity as a national subject. Here, national identity is not the double abstraction of "identity" and "nation, " but a person's sense of being and belonging that derives from memories and experiences of a particular place. Because language is crucial to this connection, Kaminsky explores the linguistic isolation, miscommunication, and multilingualism that mark late-exile and post-exile writing. She also examines how gender difference affects the themes and rhetoric of exile -- how, for example, traditional projections of femininity, such as the idea of a "mother country, " are used to allegorize exile. Describing exile as a process -- sometimes of acculturation, sometimes of alienation -- this work fosters a new understanding of how writers live and work in relation to space and place, particularly the place called home.

Brian Kilcoyne finds it difficult to cope with the death of his mother. His father is an alcoholic and he doesn't get on with his brother. He leaves his farm in Loughrea to go to college in Dublin, splitting up with his childhood sweetheart as he does so. They leave their relationship open with the possibility of continuing it in the future. He travels to Europe and America while trying to decide on his future. Romance and diaspora create conflicts in him before he returns to a changed Ireland What's he going to do with his future? Can he re-kindle his relationship with his girlfriend? Is his father going to re-marry? Will small-town mentalities force him to leave Galway again?

Also Published By Oxford University Press --

And their home is nothing like she'd expected, like nothing the Freds had prepared them for."--Back cover

Robert Hopkins was a man caught between two worlds. As a member of the Dakota Nation, he was unfairly imprisoned, accused of taking up arms against U.S. soldiers when war broke out with the Dakota in 1862. However, as a Christian convert who was also a preacher, Hopkins’s allegiance was often questioned by many of his fellow Dakota as well. Without a doubt, being a convert—and a favorite of the missionaries—had its privileges. Hopkins learned to read and write in an anglicized form of Dakota, and when facing legal allegations, he and several high-ranking missionaries wrote impassioned letters in his defense. Ultimately, he was among the 300-some Dakota spared from hanging by President Lincoln, imprisoned instead at Camp Kearney in Davenport, Iowa, for several years. His wife, Sarah, and their children, meanwhile, were forced onto the barren Crow Creek reservation in Dakota Territory with the rest of the Dakota women, children, and elderly. In both places, the Dakota were treated as novelties, displayed for curious residents like zoo animals. Historian Linda Clemmons examines the surviving letters from Robert and Sarah; other Dakota language sources; and letters from missionaries, newspaper accounts, and federal documents. She blends both the personal and the historical to complicate our understanding of the development of the Midwest, while also serving as a testament to the resilience of the Dakota and other indigenous peoples who have lived in this region from time immemorial.

In the study of the National Socialist State and its aftermath, two unusual aspects continue to occupy historians and social science commentators. First, a factor important enough to enter into the very definition of totalitarianism is the thoroughgoing mobilization, coercive if needed, of the population of writers, teachers, professors journalists and other intellectual workers, securing cooperation – or at the least passive concurrence – in the mass-inculcation of the population in the destructive Fascist ideology. Second is the central place of dissident members of these populations in the exile. Since webs of communications with others, the majority of whom had remained in Germany, had constituted their own memberships in the populations at issue, the question of their roles in the post-war era depended importantly on the ways and means by which they restored – or refused to restore – communications with those who had remained.