The author describes his parents’ upbringing and move to New York around the time of the Great Depression. The young Weinberg is encouraged to read widely and later takes inspiration from Norse myths from the Poetic Edda.

Chapter Four treats Rogers’ alliance with Florenz Ziegfeld, whose popular Zeigfeld Follies made him the leading entertainer in early twentieth-century America. When the Oklahoman joined the show, he served as a cowboy counterpoint to the glamorous Ziegfeld Girls and sophisticated urban dancers and comedians. Rogers’ witty observations and droll comments on the events and values of the day, delivered in a drawling voice and homespun manner, delighted city audiences and critics alike. Attired in cowboy clothes and often twirling a rope, his humorous monologues and shrewd observations sharpened his image as a plainspoken man of the people, a national star, and a celebrity.

By the middle of February, 1935, the maelstrom of publicity that greeted the Lomaxes and Ledbetter at the start of the year is waning. Hoping to raise some attention and funds, John Lomax plans an ambitious performing tour of upstate New York. His relationship with Ledbetter reaches a breaking point, however, with Lomax claiming to be in fear for his life. By the end of March, the Ledbetters are boarding a bus for Shreveport. But Lomax’s need to control Ledbetter continues, leading Huddie and Martha to suspect that they are being cheated. A battle between lawyers representing the Ledbetters and John Lomax ensues, and is not fully resolved for two years.

The ten years that Robert Lowell lived in New York City – roughly, the 1960s – were among the happiest of his life as well as some of his most fertile artistically. The city promised a more energetic and engaged life than that he and Elizabeth Hardwick had had in Boston. Lowell’s celebrity was peaking, as he was courted by the most famous political and intellectual figures of the time. Later in the decade, the influence of lithium carbonate promised at last to alleviate the emotional torment that had plagued him and his loved ones. Finally, he began to discover a new kind of writing, one that announced a style and a subject matter beyond those of his “breakthrough” book Life Studies in 1959. But from the mid-1960s onward, Lowell’s view of New York City darkens. Many of his poems and letters indicate sadness and disappointment in New York’s and the nation’s situation.

Chinese can be found in most parts of the world. The signs in this chapter are mainly from the United States. A few are from Kyrgyzstan. Signs in the diaspora contexts are distinguished by the need to negotiate between Chinese and the local language(s), as Chinese is used to represent local contents. Both meaning-based translation and sound-based transliteration are used, as well as a combination of the two. Also notable are the dialectal elements. The language of the Chinese diaspora in North American is heavily Cantonese, as the earliest immigrants were from Cantonese speaking areas of China. Cantonese has also been adopted as sort of a lingua franca. Traditional characters are used as a rule, reflecting the dominance of traditional culture. The traditional vertical and right to left text orientation coexists with that of the modern horizontal and left to right format.

The eight chapters in Part II focus on the most sedentary portion of Ilf and Petrov’s journey, the month they spent in and around New York City in fall 1935 hobnobbing with literary celebrities and immersing themselves in American popular culture. Investigating Ilf and Petrov’s encounters with renowned American artists and authors offers a way of tracing the transnational networks that connected Soviet and American cultural producers. How and what did they learn from each other? Where and why did they fail to understand one another? The role of immigrants in these networks looms large and allows consideration of how Soviet art and Russian artists become “American.” How did Ilf and Petrov make Soviet sense of American culture and American consumption?

In this chapter, we bring together motives (issues), means (gubernatorial powers), and opportunities (interest group compositions) using qualitative case studies of four states across several years: two with strong governors (New York and West Virginia) and two with weak governors (North Carolina and Vermont). The size of the budgets in these states varies, but they entail three subcategories that correspond with capture [corrections], instability [hospitals], and deadlock [welfare]. An investigation of twelve policy stories provide evidence for the mechanisms connecting governors and interest groups in periods of budgetary change. The policy stories cover similar temporal periods (2002–2004 and 2008–2010) controlling for national political context. We show that – large or small states – governors attempt to use their powers in all policy domains, but are met with much greater resistance in capture and deadlock categories.

This chapter traces British American cities as distinctive political spaces that helped pioneer the concept of citizenship, a term that originally meant a city resident, and stood at the forefront of much of the political protest leading to the war for independence. However, from their inception, most American cities were subordinated to their provincial legislatures which were dominated by rural interests. Meanwhile the concept of citizenship came to be associated more with a set of actions rather than a place people lived. All the largest cities were occupied during the war, forcing residents to make difficult decisions and heightening the distrust leveled against them after the war. After the war, most urban residents remained minorities subordinated to the interests of mostly rural polities. Once the cradles of citizenship, most cities were not further empowered as polities by the American Revolution, but continued to be or were more sharply constrained by rural elites after the war concluded.

While it is sometimes claimed that, during the American Revolutionary War (1775–83), there were no theatrical performances in the colonies owing to legislation passed by the Continental Congress, many did, in fact, still take place. Leading this provision of wartime entertainments were the British military in occupied New York, and this chapter concentrates on their performances at John Street Theatre – renamed the Theatre Royal – including their repertory of Shakespearean plays. In this context, wartime theatre was a clearly political act: the individuals involved in these productions were both theatrical and military actors. Chapter 2 examines the operations of this wartime theatre and the range of repertory performed by the British military, including their prioritization of Shakespearean plays that feature monarchical structures of government – such as Richard III and Macbeth – over classical histories such as Julius Caesar that carried a republican ethos. These productions were used by some as a form of propaganda and the chapter re-evaluates this term to show how Shakespeare and the theatre more broadly were weaponized during this conflict.

A large number of artists with Jewish American backgrounds have been deeply influential to the development of comics (notably of the superhero variety), social and political cartoons, and graphic novels. This chapter examines the recurrence of trauma and grief in the works of several Jewish authors, both as core motifs and as narrative/visual devices. It follows the career of graphic pioneer Will Eisner, who moved from realistically drawn crime and adventure fiction (with The Spirit, an early example of long-form comic appealing to adult readers) to more personal themes such as family history and loss in A Contract with God, the first US publication self-labeled as a “graphic novel.” Art Spiegelman’s work (Maus, 1986 and 1991; In the Shadow of No Towers, 2004) confronts similar themes grounded in trauma, suffering, and transgenerational testimony, where the artist’s memorialization of the past and experience with the present construct a graphic negotiation with grief. The chapter finds echoes of this approach in more recent works from Jewish graphic novelists such as Roz Chast and Ken Krimstein.

This chapter is the third of three to consider Puccini’s travels, both for work and leisure. It examines Puccini’s travels beyond Europe, primarily to South and North America. South America was a vital outpost of Italian operatic culture, with a large expatriate Italian population. The chapter discusses how Puccini’s works were exported to the major opera houses of the region and his travels to supervise performances in Argentina and Uruguay. Drawing upon Puccini’s correspondence, the author pays detailed attention to the life Puccini would have experienced on board ship, travelling in some luxury, unlike the many poor Italians who were migrating to the Americas for economic reasons – including the composer’s own brother, Michele Puccini. The chapter also discusses Puccini’s travels to New York, where he could not speak the language and was troubled by the weather. The author argues that the vast hotels and ships encountered by Puccini on these trips had a bearing on the sense of epic space in some of his later operas, notably La fanciulla del West. The chapter concludes with a discussion of Puccini’s tour of Egypt in 1908.

This chapter will lay out a potted account of the literature of New York and its relationship to world literature braiding two main themes: first will be that of New York as a center of self-invention, a place that was primarily commercial at its inception but progressively expanded to embrace diverse forms of ethnic, cultural, sexual, and urban interactions. And second will be to focus on the significance of neighborhoods and sweatshops as the spatial vectors through which immigrants and diasporics gain a sense of New York. The bulk of the chapter and will be devoted to a close analysis of the chronotopes of the neighborhood and the sweatshop in Toni Morrison’sJazzand Melissa Rivero’sThe Affairs of the Falcónsrespectively as a means of grasping the relationship between localized foci of individual mobility, identity, and alienation in the literature of New York and the ways in which we might also discern these as key organizing principles of world literature.

This chapter centers on the actions of Rose Butler, a teenaged term slave in New York. Rose and her accomplices set her owners’ home on fire in 1818 to avenge her mistress’s poor treatment.