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Today's moviegoers and critics generally consider some Hollywood products--even some blockbusters--to be legitimate works of art. But during the first half century of motion pictures very few Americans would have thought to call an American movie "art." Up through the 1950s, American movies were regarded as a form of popular, even lower-class, entertainment. By the 1960s and 1970s, however, viewers were regularly judging Hollywood films by artistic criteria previously applied only to high art forms. In Hollywood Highbrow, Shyon Baumann for the first time tells how social and cultural forces radically changed the public's perceptions of American movies just as those forces were radically changing the movies themselves. The development in the United States of an appreciation of film as an art was, Baumann shows, the product of large changes in Hollywood and American society as a whole. With the postwar rise of television, American movie audiences shrank dramatically and Hollywood responded by appealing to richer and more educated viewers. Around the same time, European ideas about the director as artist, an easing of censorship, and the development of art-house cinemas, film festivals, and the academic field of film studies encouraged the idea that some American movies--and not just European ones--deserved to be considered art.

The twelfth-century French poet Chrétien de Troyes is a major figure in European literature. His courtly romances fathered the Arthurian tradition and influenced countless other poets in England as well as on the continent. Yet because of the difficulty of capturing his swift-moving style in translation, English-speaking audiences are largely unfamiliar with the pleasures of reading his poems. Now, for the first time, an experienced translator of medieval verse who is himself a poet provides a translation of Chrétien’s major poem, Yvain, in verse that fully and satisfyingly captures the movement, the sense, and the spirit of the Old French original. Yvain is a courtly romance with a moral tenor; it is ironic and sometimes bawdy; the poetry is crisp and vivid. In addition, the psychological and the socio-historical perceptions of the poem are of profound literary and historical importance, for it evokes the emotions and the values of a flourishing, vibrant medieval past.

E. R. Braithwaite, the acclaimed author of To Sir, With Love, poignantly recounts his time as a social worker dedicated to London’s abandoned minority children Despite his Cambridge education and a sterling record with the British Royal Air Force during World War II, E. R. Braithwaite, a black man, was unable to find employment as an engineer in post-war London. Instead he accepted a position as a teacher in a tough East End school and wrote of his experiences in his classic bestseller To Sir, With Love. Nine years later, Braithwaite once again found himself assuming an unfamiliar professional role as a social worker charged with finding homes for London’s orphaned, abused, or abandoned “coloured” children. While he lacked formal training, Braithwaite possessed qualities essential for the job: compassion, determination, and a deep, abiding understanding and love for the helpless, lost, and disregarded. In Paid Servant, E. R. Braithwaite shares his experiences in London’s Department of Child Welfare, focusing on the case of his four-year-old client Roddy, a bright, handsome mulatto boy who was rejected for adoption by both black and white families because he was not their “own kind.” Everywhere he turned, Braithwaite encountered racial prejudice. But he was willing to fight for what he believed in, and he believed in Roddy. Writing with great power, warmth, and a deep belief in human dignity and worth, Braithwaite offers a heartbreaking yet hopeful look into a society’s attempt to care for its youngest, most vulnerable citizens.