"The Southern Heirloom Garden" is a rich and instructive work.

At the start of the book, William C. Welch and Greg Grant tell us that "gardening is one of the oldest, and richest, of our Southern folk arts."

The authors divide the book into two sections. The first section refreshingly explores French, German, Spanish, Native American, and African-American contributions to Southern gardening.

The Spanish, for instance, intensely developed and utilized small garden spaces, while African-Americans used brightly-colored flowers in the front yard as a sign of welcome.

This section also has a commendable essay on historic garden restoration in the South.

The second section addresses the plants "our ancestors used to build and enrich their gardens."

There are nearly 200 full-color photographs here, along with dozens of rare vintage engravings. While some of the pictures are a bit small, they are still informative.

Southern gardeners and historians will particularly enjoy this fine volume.

This is a really great book. I loved the essays on each plant. Greg Grant is very humorous. This is not just a coffee table book, although the pictures are beautiful. It offers advise and inspiration to those of us who will never have the "Southern Living Landscape" look.

In these days of trying the "Western grass garden" or the "English perennial border" it's particularly refreshing to study a book devoted to plants that happily grow in the Southern humidity and heat. While the opening chapters on historical gardens in the new world (French, Spanish, etc.) were interesting, the later chapters on plants were the most informative. When reading I could hear my Grandmother using the same commonplace names, like "paw-paw" and how to make jelly from the fruit. The challenge will now be to find some of these plants. (The authors admit some plants are only available from old gardens in the South). It remains one of my favorite garden books for its affectionate commentary on one of the oldest southern pastimes - our gardens and the talking and sharing of plants with loved ones.

This is the most comprehensive and inclusive book I have been able to find about the Wildflowers of the Southern Appalachain. It is very helpful in identification but is a little lacking but only slightly in some other informative plant information. It has all of the basics and I love the book to be sure. Needs to add more asides about the plants...etc..what they might have been used for. It definately has been the most helpful book to have around to identify all the flowers. I would not be without it. By far my favorite.

With 600 color photos and 1200 species described this is by far the most comprehensive book for identifying flowers of the region. It is a book for the serious who really want to name as many flowers as they can. It may be a bit too comprehensive for a beginner who just wants to find the common flowers because of the sheer quantity .

This book is a true tour de force, as Smith draws from his 20,000 photographs and 20 years of experience in the botany of the southern mountains.

In essence, this is an economic interpretation of Southern history in the late nineteenth century based primarily on statistical data. The authors began this project when they noticed the scarcity of scholarship concerning the economic institutions which took the place of slavery in the South; they felt it necessary for the understanding of the Negro experience to understand the manner in which the Negro entered into a nonbinding economic lifestyle in the years after the War Between the States and Reconstruction. A primary concern of the authors was the economic malaise of the South agriculturally and certainly industrially in the period from 1865 to 1914, a time of impressive economic growth elsewhere in the nation.

The authors devote much of their study to a region they define as the Cotton South, wherein they see homogeneous development. They stress the fact that they are economists and not historians--political, social, and cultural history are beyond the scope of this book. While the authors may at times refer to economic effects of noneconomic forces, they make no attempt to do anything more than offer an economic interpretation of the post-emancipation South; that alone signifies their contribution to the historical field. In the end, they give their ideas as to the evolution of a Southern economy that exploited farmers--white and black--and allowed for little or no industrial development.

I was a student of Dr. Ransom at the University of California, Riverside, and I majored in history. Though Dr. Ransom generally is considered an economist, he--more than anyone I've ever read or heard lecture--is able to articulate and present economics within its proper historical parameters, and show you exactly how, for example, whatever historical event is occurring, this is how it affected the world--the people--economically.

This book is a straightforward account of the life of one of the 20th century's five most important U.S. senators. However, it falls short in examining Russell's ideology, which is tied to his time and place when it is ever mentioned. A fully satisfactory biography will have to explore the man behind the rise of Lyndon Johnson, the coordinated southern resistance to integration, and much of Senate anti-Communism from an intellectual point of view.

Henry Clay. Daniel Webster. John C. Calhoun. James F. Byrnes. Robert A. Taft. Hubert Humphrey. Add Richard Russell to this list and what do you get? A collection of our nation's most accomplished and able Senators who never became President. All of these men were giants in their time, and Russell was no exception. The youngest Governor in Georgia history, Russell came to Washington as a Senator in 1933 and left in the early 70's, feet first. A legislator of uncommon ability, Russell was a master of the procedures, traditions, and customs of the Senate; of parliamentary tactics; and was constructive on all matters of domestic or foreign policy. His peers referred to him as a 'Senator's Senator', Presidents called him a 'President's Senator'. His hold over Georgia's political and business establishments enabled him to seek reelection every six years unopposed. Unfortunately, his refusal to change his political position or personal attitudes on the issue of civil rights doomed him to be a 'regional Senator' rather than a 'national' one. He sought the Democratic Party's presidential nomination in 1952, but won only the delegates from the states of the Confederacy. Despite the increasing liberalism of his party, Russell the conservative, voted the straight Democratic ticket in every election. Russell was perhaps truly the last great statesman of the Senate.

R.W. Southern's book is the second in a series of seven on the history of the Church. It begins with Pope Gregory II in the early eighth century and traces the development of the Church to the beginning of Henry VIII's reign in the early sixteenth century. Southern's emphasis is on the relationship between the Church as a religious institution and the political institutions of the Middle Ages, giving little attention to the Church's spiritual and theological components. The bulk of this volume covers the East-West schism of 1054, the papacy, the archbishops and bishops, and the various religious orders of this period. This book is scholarly in its approach, yet writtten in a very readable style. It gave me a much better understanding of the complex interactions between the Church and state during this period. I can recommend this volume to anyone interested in learning more about this era.

What Southern attempts is daunting, to say the least: In 360 pages, he seeks to analyze how the church and society interacted during the entire 700-year period of the Middle Ages. And he has done a superb job of it. His book is comprehenisive without sounding platitudinous nor mired in detail, subtle without being rarefied. Another reviewer criticizes him for not giving enough attention to spiritual and theological aspects of the Middles Ages. The first part of this criticism is flatly false--the spiritual, insofar as they interact with society, abound in the book--and the second part is unwarranted, since Southern states in his first chapter that theological discussion lies outside the purview of the book. The reviewer, however, is correct in saying that it's a highly readable book. If you love church history--or want to learn how it should be written--this is a book you can't miss.

As this posthumous collection of essays suggests, Weaver felt most at home writing about the old South, which was his birthplace, the topic of his dissertation, and the subject for which he reserved his highest praise.

To Weaver the evils of the world were rooted in modernism, industrialism, materialism, and nationalism, all of which he blamed on Union victory. At one point Weaver even asserted that total war -- war unrestrained by chivalry or other ethical restraints -- was a northern custom which had led to the rise of National Socialism in Germany.

The stark line Weaver drew between South and North, with divergent and logical worldviews ascribed to each, was for him the line between good and evil. In reducing every issue to either-or, Weaver oversimplified his subjects, so that his essays resemble legal arguments: Haynes v. Webster, Thoreau v. Randolph, Lee v. Sherman, Emerson v. Warren. In each case, Weaver's preference is obvious.

I found the strongest essays to be in section one, about southern literature and the Agrarian writers. Here are many useful and profound insights that time has not diminished. When Weaver leaves his specialty, however, his comments are less persuasive, amounting to sweeping sociological observations and cheerleading for the old South.

The converse of Weaver's feeling at home in an imagined South is feeling alienated in an imagined North. Although he spent most of his career teaching literature at the University of Chicago, he isolated himself from the city both physically and intellectually. Perhaps if Weaver had made more effort to adapt, he would have left us a richer legacy, one less marked by decline and defeat.

I admire Weaver's work a great deal. He should be praised for showing, from a conservative perspective, the limitations of capitalism, industrialism, and modernism, limitations which are more often the outcry of the radical left and dismissed as anti American. He would have been wise to consider also the limitations of the old South. I am less willing to blame today's discontents on Union victory. In Weaver's rigid arguments, moreover, there is little to be learned about the vital American principles of acceptance, pluralism, and compromise.

Sometimes it is difficult to sort out the contradictions in Weaver's work, but I prefer to keep in mind his comments from Ideas Have Consequences: Piety accepts the right of others to exist, and it affirms an objective order, not created by man, that is independent of the human ego.

In short, if you are a friend of the South, or would like to read the words of a man who can explain the conservative axiology, this book is for you. The contents are essential for anyone seeking a neoclassical education. For me, reading Richard Weaver's Southern Essays brings together the final sentences of Faulkner's "A Rose for Emily."

"Then we noticed that in the second pillow was the indentation of a head. One of us lifted something from it, and leaning forward, that faint and invisible dust dry and acrid in the nostrils, we saw a long strand of iron-gray hair."

The book is a monument to Lee and Jackson. Anyone who wants to understand Picket's charge needs to read this excellent book.

This is a marvelous book, and a marvelous collection of essays, written by a clear and conscientious southern conservative. Richard Weaver was heir to the Southern Agrarian tradition of protest and opposition to the directions modern American society and politics was taking, particularly in the New Deal and post WW II eras. Writers like John Crowe Ransom, Donald Davidson, Allan Tate, Caroline Gordon and Robert Penn Warren, were caustic critics of modernity, of the decline in community, and a sense of the common good. Weaver, an english professor who might better be described as an intellectual, lived, learned, and worked in this tradition. Of all the essays in this collection, all of which are well written and thoughtful, two stand out in my mind. His essay on 'Lee the Philosopher' captures the pragmatic and common-sense spirit of southern political and social thought. Southerners felt little need for abstract theorizing, or great theoretical and philosophical models. Simple, everyday ideas, the ideals of common sense and everyday life, were more than enough for the down-to-earth farmers and planters of the American South. Weaver does a brilliant job of portraying Genl Lee as the epitome of the southern ideal of both gentlemanly duty and social thought. The second wonderful piece is 'The Two Types of American Individualism'. Weaver contrasts the individualism of a character like John Randolph of Roanoke, a fixture on the Virginia political scene in the early 1800's, with the individualism of Thoreau (and by implication the North). Randolph was a supreme example of an eccentric indivdual. He had bouts of insanity throughout his like, fought duels, appeared on the floor of Congress with his hunting dogs, jug of hard cider and his slave attendant, and refused to toe the party line. Yet, when the needs of his community demanded, or the society in which he lived was threatened, he was willing- even eager- to rally to the cause and defend it, despite his personal believes and misgivings. Weaver felt that Thoreau, on the other hand, with is notions of civil disobedience and voluntary taxation, put the individual ahead of the community, and would refuse to defend anything that was not justified according to his principles and beliefs. This was recipe for chaos and disorder, and disintegration. Weaver leaves no doubt as to which he preferes. The division between community and tradition, and individual liberty is a fault line that continues to run through American political and social ideas. Weaver, in powerfully defending tradition and community, has been one of the men shaping current political discourse, particularly among the social conservatives and in the religious right. He deserves to be read.

There are amongst the hundreds of styles of short story, those that hug the side of pure narrative and those that offer a snippit of the complexities of human life. Of the latter, there is none greater than Anton Chekov, but modern masters also abound... Tobias Wolfe comes to mind. In my reading of Peter Taylor's "The Old Forest and Other Stories", I couldn't help but feel that his audience has passed. I enjoyed many of the stories, some quite alot, but they did not speak to me. They did not resonate. Personal favorites like 'Promise of Rain','The Scoutmaster', and 'The Gift of the Prodigal' contain more of an element of a narrative style, sprinkled with those ominous gaps that lie behind a person's mind. The titular story is perhaps my favorite except for its being bogged down with expository literacy. I have a distinct feeling that I have read a book that added to my knowledge of writing and reading as a whole, but I have not read a book in which I have thoroughly enjoyed.

With full acknowledgments for the differences in taste, I must express a total dislike of many of the other stories: the final play, 'The Death of a Kinsman' in particular. The underhandedness disguised as cleverness on the writer's part is obfuscating and patronizing. In fact, I think patronizing is a good word to sum up the collection. However, good writing intentionally raises opinions. If you've come so far as to read the reviews on this page, it might just be worth investigating these stories yourself.

I have a confession to make. I don't like these stories. I recognize the strengths of Taylor's story telling - the elegant language, the depiction of emotional tension in simple things, the clear progression of 'story' or theme from setup to inevitable conclusion, but I can't get past a deep dislike for his characters. This is a personal failing. Taylor's fiction depicts a world that is inhabited almost exclusively by a certain class of affluent, white, middle class city dwellers whose lives are bounded on the upside by manners, fashion and ritual (in imitation of an upper class to which, presumably, they aspire)and on the downside by a stiff reticence and correctness of behavior to insulate them from their inferiors (not only their black servants but also whites of a lesser social and economic standing). I grew up in Nashville, TN at a time when this world was rapidly passing away, but I have met people, more than a few, who could have stepped from the pages of these stories, and almost without exception developed a deep antipathy for them. Their overt arrogance which seemed to mask a great fear of the world 'outside' always made social intercourse with such people strained and unsatisfying. There is nothing like being politely condescended to to make the recipient want to deliberately break convention and strike through the mask. So it's personal.

I have read, and reread, these stories enough to see that Taylor's characters are frequently as frightened of change and the possible corruption of contact outside their little world as I had sensed in the real Taylor-type folk I have met. There is great skill in his presentation of this tension, but it doesn't lead me to empathize, much less sympathize, with his characters.

Any given person's response to a piece of fiction is going to be colored by a host of factors over which the author has no control, and no writer ever had universal success at generating the response he desires the reader to have. In the case of my response to Taylor's stories, I fear that my dislike of the specific milieu (and its inhabitants) that is his chosen subject will forever keep me from a full appreciation of his work.

I have trouble with assessments of great writing that tend to subordinate every concept to setting. We know that Chekhov wrote about the Russian provinces, Cheever wrote about WASPs in New England, William Trevor writes about lower middle-class Ireland, and Faulkner wrote about Mississippi. We also know that Taylor writes about the upper South (not the so-called "Deep South" that some others have mentioned). So what? What many of us realize, but often fail to mention, is that Taylor is writing about the human condition, as all of these great writers have. I'm a firm believer in the notion that the setting is incidental--a product of the world Taylor understood. So, as we can say with Chekhov, Cheever, and Trevor, Taylor writes about people. We appreciate these stories because they are about us, whether we're from Maine, Mississippi, or Maryland. If you have any belief in a universal human condition (whatever that may be), in the truth inherent to archetypal stories about people, you'll find that the setting only serves as the metaphorical framework in which the author works. It's our own problem if we have trouble shedding our regionalism, not Taylor's. Also, this book is not an obituary to the death of any particular culture, but a celebration of life and universal human relationships. How can "The Gift of the Prodigal" be about anything but that? Who would say that "The Gift of the Prodigal" is about Charlottesville, VA? So, by all means read this book. Don't be turned off by its Southern setting or its WASPy characters anymore than you would be turned off by Chekhov's rural Russia.

The stories in this collection range from the mediocre to excellent. Most of the stories feature an Uncle Remus like character named Julius McAdoo telling anecdotes about plantation life to a white couple from the North. Julius talks in dialect which makes the text difficult to understand at times. Additionally, in terms of plot and structure, many of the stories seem repetative. My favorite story in the collection is located in the previously unpublished stories section. I can't remember the name but I think it has the word "tree" in the title.

What is most interesting about these stories is both the narrative framework & the way the narrator of the stories about the black community (there are essentially two narrators) uses magic ("The Goophered Grapevine" and "Po' Sandy" especially) to usurp the authority of the white landowner (the primary narrator, who is re-telling the stories Julius has told him). Maybe it takes an understanding of African American literary traditions-- signifying, call & response, etc, to really dig in, but you can still relate without that background.

There are multiple layers of narration going on-- and once you can get through those layers, you can both enjoy the story-line and understand something pivotal about the way the African American genre works. The dialect and speech patterns are represented in a way that was criticized by some early African American writers who wanted a more "realistic" "naturalistic" and political structure. But underneath the "quaint" nature of the stories about magic & the slave/master relationship are some very subtle and very powerful images of how the slave and master influence *each other*-- that there are differences in the power dynamic than what we expect. It might be hard to get into the language-- but once you do, it's not overdone. Read the dialect the way you would learn another language; it's English, with a twist. There is also a great story on "passing," and some exploration of voodoo. This is a text that should be taught alongside Faulkner & Flannery O'Connor-- another look at the South.

Expecting great things, I was frankly a little disappoined in this book. There are unpublished photos that are interesting, but the graphic quality of many of the reproductions is only fair. I found more than a few innacuracies regarding the instruments and dates. The text is frankly uninspiring. If you are an amatuer ethnomusicoligist as I am, it is one to keep on the shelf for reference that is true, but as a definitive work it is sorely lacking. I also found it to be surprisingly short. Given the breadth and depth of the subject, the paucity of the text and photos is alarming. So, for me it was OK but not really a top shelf choice.

I love the photos in this book. Large black and white photos of early bands in the south. Clear picutes of early insturments and band members and their clothing. There was one photo I've seen before--the one of the Cajun couple--but most of the others were fresh photos that I had not seen. There is a text history of Southern Country music--but this book is worth buying for the historical photos alone.

The book is good for all people...topics covered apply not only to athletic fields(and golf courses), but also to the average home user. After reading the maintenance section, most people will learn that they over-fertilize and over-water.

Topics also include tufrgass diseases, weed control, and managing insect problems.

This book provides a compehensive discussion of turfgrasses and their management. There are plenty of pictures showing grasses, weeds, and diseases suffered. The pictures are all very clear and close up so you know what you are looking at. There is also plenty of info on how the manage(fertilize, mow, etc.) grasses. I actually used this book in a class taught by the author(Dr. Richard Duble); while I used this as a college textbook, this book does not read like a college textbook so it should appeal to a wider audience.