Academic literature on the topic 'Disney Year book'

The comic-book artist Carl Barks was one of the most-read writers during the years after the Second World War. Millions of children took in his tales of the Disney characters Donald Duck and Uncle Scrooge. Often set in the Global South, Barks's stories offered pointed reflections on foreign relations. Surprisingly, Barks presented a thoroughgoing critique of the main thrust of U.S. foreign policy making: the notion that the United States should intervene to improve “traditional” societies. In Barks's stories, the best that the inhabitants of rich societies can do is to leave poorer peoples alone. But Barks was not just popular; his work was also influential. High-profile baby boomers such as Steven Spielberg and George Lucas imbibed his comics as children. When they later produced their own creative works in the 1970s and 1980s, they drew from Barks's language as they too attacked the ideology of modernization.

For well over fifty years, girls as princesses has been a staple of child-hood play. In 2000, The Disney Corporation released its "Princesses" line of merchandise - - eight princess-es marketed together as a group for the purpose of creating a single brand which can be more easily mass-pro-duced. As such, the princess industry has grown significantly in the last ten years. This paper explores the heavily marketed princess motif on the devel-opment of gender identity in young girls. The messages of simplistic and traditional, hyper-gendered perfor-mances are powerful and ubiquitous, and such fixations need not be encouraged in primary classrooms. Primary teachers in particular could use alternative and varied metaphors for gender roles when choosing books, stories, and learning activities for their classrooms, and they can cre-ate space for critical discussions regarding young children's percep-tions of gender roles. Because chil-dren appropriate cultural material to participate in and explore their world, mindful engagements with their teachers seem necessary.

Treasure seems to be a popular subject in Britain at the moment. The BBC was first out with the television series Hidden Treasure, controversially focussing on the monetary value of archaeological finds, to the predictable and appropriate dismay of archaeologists. The programme is supported by an accompanying book (Faulkner 2003) and website (www.bbc.co.uk/history/archaeology/treasure) that fortunately both take a more balanced view. A professional offering on the same subject appeared almost simultaneously, in the shape of a conference at the British Museum and what the same institution has described as the first major exhibition of national archaeology for fifteen years.

Both Judaism and Islam have prohibited eating pork and its products for thousands of years. Scholars have proposed several reasons for the ban to which both religions almost totally adhere. Pork, and the refusal to eat it, possesses powerful cultural baggage for Jews. Israel has legislated two related laws: the Pork Law in 1962, that bans the rearing and slaughter of pigs across the country, and the Meat Law of 1994, prohibiting all imports of nonkosher meats into Israel. While not abounding, Israeli pork-eaters certainly exist, and a small number of pig-breeding farms operate in the country, mostly in Christian villages. The influx of Russian immigrants in the 1990s helped boost sales of pork, but the force of the taboo remains so powerful that many secular Israelis still eschew pork dishes, while willing to eat less charged nonkosher items such as shellfish. A porchetta feast recently held in the Muslim-Jewish town of Jaffa, defied the religious and cultural taboo. It was a celebration of a book by Dr. Eli Landau, The White Book, which is the first Hebrew-language collection of pork recipes. Fearing repercussions, Israeli publishers unanimously refused to publish it and the book chain stores declined to display it. As a result, Landau published it himself.

During the almost one thousand years of European obsession withIslam, only a few authors have tried to rise above their contemporaries bypresenting a more balanced view of this religious ideology. Armstrong'smain aim is to encourage "this more tolerant, compassionate, and courageoustradition" (p. 15). From the very beginning, it is apparent that thisbook is written with an unsurpassed empathy and that it contains a degreeof dismay and resentment that the truth about the Prophet and Islam hasbeen compromised and hidden by ethnocentric European writers inspiredeither by the Christian church and its missionaries or modem secularism.The main strength of the book lies in the fact that the author is nota run-of-the-mill orientalist With experience as a free-lance writer, commentator,and television documentary producer, Armstrong does not avoidthe themes so dear to European critics of the Prophet, but deals with themdirectly. For instance, rather than rationalizing the Prophet's polygamy, ...

Although food has been part of motion pictures since the silent era, for the most part it has been treated with about as much respect as movie extras: it's always been there on the screen but seldom noticed –– that is until the 1970s and 1980s when food's photogenic qualities were discovered by a handful of filmmakers who made food a star, thus giving birth to a new genre: food films. To document how food has been treated in movies from the silent era to the present, the author reviewed over 800 American and foreign films. This article, excerpted from the enlarged and updated second edition of the author's book, Food in the Movies, to be released in November, 2009, highlights some of the significant technological, cinematic and cultural forces at work over the past century that helped give birth to as many as thirty food films released in the past thirty years. Some of the more popular ones include: Tampopo (1986), Babette's Feast, (1987), Like Water for Chocolate (1992), Eat Drink Man Woman (1994), Big Night (1996), Mostly Martha (2001), and most recently No Reservations (2007). The article also provides a behind-the-scene look at the extraordinary culinary efforts required to prepare the sumptuous dishes we see on the screen.

There is a long history of dating shows on TV, most famously in the United Kingdom in the form of the long-running ITV show Blind Date, which ran from 1985 until 2003; its re-boot has returned to ITV1. The game-show format continues in shows such as Take Me Out (also ITV1) and Dinner Date (More 4). Elsewhere, the make-over shows that dominated the schedule in the late 1990s and first decade of the century morphed into relationship/dating shows, such as Gok’s Fashion Fix (Channel 4) and Snog, Marry, Avoid (BBC3). However, another relationship/make-over show, How to Look Good Naked (2006–2012, Channel 4) seems to have heralded a further development of this. While How to Look Good Naked never showed full frontal nudity, with participants always expressing the empowering nature of their ‘naked picture’ finale, in recent years there has been a further development of the nakedness theme across several dating shows that have a game-show format. The one that has caused most comment is Channel 4’s Naked Attraction, with The Guardian commenting that ‘the bottom of the barrel has been reached’. With full nudity, lingering close-ups and graphic descriptions, this show drove many viewers to Twitter to express dismay that this show has made it to mainstream TV, and led to The Guardian referring to this show as being symptomatic of dystopian TV since 2016. This article will explore how the shock of graphic nudity is ameliorated by the linguistic strategies of positive politeness with which all participants seem to collude and engage. Such amelioration would appear to be a defence against accusations of voyeuristic and pornographic content on mainstream TV.

The Scientific Repository of the Institute of Archaeology of the NAS of Ukraine has three collections of archaeological finds coming from excavations on the St. Michael Golden-domed Monastery yard. These are the materials from the excavation of 1940 led by Mikhail Karger, the survey of 1944 led by David Blifeld and observations over the earthworks of Volodymyr Diadenko in 1967. The excavations of 1940 revealed two Old Rus dwellings and several pits on the site between St. Michael Cathedral and the Refectory, as well as the previously unknown Old Rus temple of the 11th century, associated with the St. Dmitro Cathedral. The field inventory books stored in the Scientific Archive of the Institute of Archaeology allow to clarify the locations of excavated sections where the works were carried out, as well as to compile a list of finds with a preserved collection that is about much smaller than the total amount found during excavations. A significant part of it is building remains such as fragments of frescos (some with graffiti), bricks, floor tiles, tiles, acoustic jars, molten lead roof sheets. The collection contains also household items such as fragmented ceramic dishes, amphora containers, grinding stones, and remains of manufacture: a fragment of an iron bloom and the glassware production refuse. In addition, there are some artefacts from graves: fabric, leather shoe details. The finds dated to a wide chronological range from the 10th—11th to the 18th—19th centuries and display the life in the monastery during all this time, without chronological lacunae.
 The survey of David Blifeld in 1944 was caused by construction of a vegetable store on the courtyard of the former monastery, and the works of Volodymyr Diadenko in 1967 were apparently related to the supervision over earthworks in the Upper city of Kyiv. There are neither publication, no archive data about the last two stages of research, so collections of archaeological finds are the only source of information about these studies. Both collections are small. The collection of the year 1944 contains the 18th century pottery, as well as three fragments of vessels of the 12th—13th centuries from cultural layer. The collection is incomplete because of significant gaps of inventory numbers.
 Observations of Volodymyr Diadenko in 1967 revealed the dwelling of Old-Rus time, which can be dated to the 12th — early 13th century by the available materials (fragments of pots and a big pottery container). The collection also included a half of brick of the 17th—18th centuries and a sherd of acoustic jar that may indicate the location of the site close to any architectural object.

My appreciation of textual criticism – a nowadays somewhat marginalized subdiscipline that continues nevertheless to provide the foundation of our subject – has been vastly enhanced by Richard Tarrant's new book on the subject. I read it from cover to cover with great pleasure and satisfaction (several times laughing out loud, which doesn't happen often with works of scholarship), with great interest, and with dismay at my own ignorance, and I came away determined to be a better Classicist. This little volume is the fourteenth ‘suggestive essay’ published in CUP's Roman Literature and its Contexts series (established in 1990 by Denis Feeney and Stephen Hinds), but it does not – sadly – mark a revival of this excellent series, but rather a late addition. (There cannot be many Latinists of my generation who did not, as young scholars, aspire one day to be the author of one of these elegantly concise yet ground-breaking volumes.) On the face of it this volume is rather different from its predecessors, which usually engaged with cutting-edge theory from a Classical perspective; instead, Texts, Editors and Readers opens up to non-initiates such as myself a whole world of existing scholarship into which many literary scholars seldom venture, inhabited not only by the towering ‘heroic editors’ of the past (Chapter 1) but also by colourful characters such as ‘interpolation hunters’ (86), freewheeling neo-sceptics (77), elegant minimalists, and unrestrained maximalists. With a combination of vivid characterization, lucid explanation, and delicious detail, Tarrant outlines the challenges of establishing a decent text, and the techniques involved; in Chapters 3 to 5 we learn about recension, conjecture, interpolation, collaboration, and intertextuality. He also makes exceptionally clear the issues that are at stake in editing a text, and the tensions with which the discipline is charged. At every stage of the process, from the selection of manuscripts for scrutiny to the display of information in the final edition, choices need to be made that are bound to provoke dissent. The twin aims of providing a legible text and legible apparatus are often in conflict with one another. Eventually, to establish a readable text, an editor needs to choose a single solution and put all alternatives in the apparatus, which must then record the evidence and the decision process as far as possible. Done well, it allows us to understand the process by which the text of the edition has been established, and the contributions made by scholars over the years. But within Classics there is no agreement about precisely how this should be achieved, as Tarrant points out. As he makes clear with his comparison of two reviews of the same edition, one reviewer's ‘accuracy’ and ‘methodological rigor’ is another's ‘frivolous superfluities’ (25–6). Tarrant comments that one would hardly believe these evaluations pertained to the same edition of Lucan, but in fact the picture is consistent and the divergence of opinion is telling; what comes across strongly is that these two reviewers want something very different from their editions. The disagreement here is between a scholar who wants progress towards a better text, amending scribal errors and providing confident, robust conjectures, and another who is glad to find a text relatively untouched, but in the apparatus all the material that enables a reader to come to their own decisions about the variants to be preferred. The merits of both are clear; the tensions are between the aspiration for a readable, usable text and the desire to be transparent about the difficulties involved in establishing that text. A decisive reading may obscure ambiguities; excessive hedging muddies the reading. Every choice involves compromise: minimalists may omit important information that might allow the reader to draw different conclusions; maximalists risk cluttering up the page and seeming undiscriminating. Tarrant (a self-confessed minimalist) alarms us on pages 130–1 with the sight of the monstrous apparatus produced by an unrestrained maximalist. Meanwhile, while conservative critics are averse to new conjectures and stick as close to the manuscript reading as possible, conjecture emerges as a creative art form, where natural talent is enhanced by intimate appreciation of Latin literature and style (73); it can attract great admiration. I now aspire to be able someday to compile, as Tarrant does, my own list of favourite conjectures – a bit like a montage of favourite sporting moments, as one revels in the pleasure of seeing the execution of skilful manoeuvres. Chapter 6 brings our attention to a representative case where textual tradition and literary interpretation cannot be disentangled: is Propertius a ‘difficult’ poet, prone to elliptical writing, or is he an elegant writer whose text has been unfortunately mangled in transmission? In other words, where the text is hard to understand, do we spend our energies reading his poetry as if he were a modernist poet, teasing out cryptic meaning, or do we channel our energies into amending the text to something more easily comprehensible? One's prejudice about the nature of Propertius’ poetry inevitably shapes one's approach to editing the text. The question is insoluble, but the debates thereby evoked are illuminating. As Chapter 2 makes clear, this is a discipline that relies on persuasion and is characterized by strong rhetoric; the contempt and disgust that are directed at fellow scholars and inferior manuscripts are remarkable. Language is often emotive and moralizing; the bracketing of problematic lines described as ‘a coward's remedy’ (86, n. 2). Tarrant himself, who takes a light and genial tone throughout, doesn't shy away from describing a certain practice of citing scholars in the apparatus criticus as ‘an abomination’ (161). One of many evocative details is the idea of Housman storing up denunciations of editorial vices without a particular target yet in mind (68). Traditionally, self-belief and decisive authority have been the hallmarks of the ‘heroic’ style of editing, and these qualities are especially unfashionable in our own era, which prizes the acknowledgement of ambiguity and hermeneutic openness. Tarrant encourages us to accept that the notions of the ‘recoverable original’ or the ‘definitive edition’ are myths, but at the same time to acknowledge that they are necessary myths (40) for this ‘doomed yet noble’ endeavour (156). A critical edition is no more nor less than a provisional ‘working hypothesis’ which invites continued and continual engagement. As Tarrant puts it: ‘any edition, to the degree that it stimulates thinking about the text, begins the process that will lead to its being succeeded by another edition’ (147). Textual criticism should be, therefore, a collaborative endeavour to be marked by humility and an acceptance of the open-endedness of interpretation, of the hermeneutic work that an editor needs to undertake, and also of the overlap between the roles of editor and reader. It is easy to perceive textual criticism – with its heyday in the nineteenth century – as constituting the dry and dusty past of Classics, and indeed Tarrant treats us to a most entertaining account of its Heroic Age, when Housman et al. lashed one another with cruel wit and erudite put-downs. However, Tarrant also makes an irrefutable case for the continued relevance, and indeed the exciting future, of textual criticism – despite the fact that it has lost its position at the centre of our discipline, and so many of us are untrained and unable to appreciate its value. Tarrant's depiction of the discipline brings home the lesson – which we already knew, but now really get – that all classical scholars ought accordingly to be aware of these general issues and to have some grasp of the specific routes by which the text they are reading has been reached, the problematic aspects of that text, and the issues involved in attempting to resolve its problems. Such is the information that an apparatus criticus attempts to convey, and it may therefore be judged on how effectively and efficiently it does so. Having made all of this so clear and in such an engaging fashion, Tarrant concludes by providing as an appendix a helpful guide for the inexperienced to reading a critical apparatus. The final chapters explore two questions in particular: what can technological advances contribute (for instance in access to and presentation of manuscripts), and is the current model of the apparatus criticus fit for purpose? On the latter issue, Tarrant would like to see, at the very least, more scope for providing in the notes nuanced indication of the editor's feelings about the choices he or she has made. He proposes the wider use of phrases that allude to the internal struggles behind a rejected variant, for instance (such as utinam recte or aegre reieco) or the introduction of new symbols for the apparatus that would signal degrees of suspicion – although he doesn't go quite so far as to second Donaldson's suggestion for a pictorial symbol of ‘a small ostrich, with head in the sand’ to denote occasions where an editor follows a manuscript out of despair of making actual sense of the text (58, n. 25). Early in his essay, Tarrant expresses regret that new editions are less likely to be reviewed than other forms of scholarship, and, with the decline in the requisite editorial knowhow, it easy to see why: reviewing a new edition of a text is not a job that can be undertaken with confidence by most scholars of Latin literature. How can one pass judgement on an editor's decisions without a very sound knowledge not only of the work but also of the manuscripts available, of the relationships between them, and of the subsequent critical tradition? How can one comment on individual amendments or conjectures without an understanding of the entire interpretative framework which the critic has brought to bear? One of the many valuable things I have learned from Tarrant's book is that it not always necessary to comment on individual cruces; equally useful can be an evaluation of the general approach and principles upon which an edition is both established and communicated.

Higgins, Ryan T. We Don’t Eat Our Classmates. Disney-Hyperion, 2018.
 Ryan T. Higgins writes highly rated children’s books dealing with common elementary school conflicts. The picture book, We Don’t Eat Our Classmates, will capture all readers, no matter the age. The main character, Penelope, is an adorable T-rex who wears pink coveralls. She was designed by the illustrator and a group of children so it has features that will appeal to all and capture your heart immediately. Penelope is a having a rough first day of school because she keeps eating all her classmates; she struggles with fitting in but learns that it is not fun when you get bit. The story uses humorous hyperboles and the element of surprise that will keep the reader engaged until the end of the story. The humour is exemplified through the beautifully illustrated representations of the story. The illustrations capture the situations through simple images that show the character’s expressions and intentionally incorporate colours to emphasize the characters or the problem at hand.
 This picture book would make a fantastic addition to any early elementary classroom and would make a great read aloud because it uses humour to address the themes of new students, making friends, and learning to treat others the way you want to be treated. Its huge font will allow younger readers to follow along. The humour and overemphasis in the story is what makes it a truly engaging and fun read while hitting on the feelings of being different and excluded that many students face.
 Highly Recommended: 4 out of 4 starsReviewer: Haley Oliver
 Haley Oliver is a fourth year Bachelor of Elementary Education student at the University of Alberta. She is interested in encouraging young child to love reading through entertaining and meaningful literature.

Mr Sherlock Holmes was always of opinion that I should publish the singular facts connected with Professor Presbury, if only to dispel once for all the ugly rumours which some twenty years ago agitated the University and were echoed in the learned societies of...

Bradbury’s popularity in Argentina culminated in a 1997 visit to Buenos Aires, where he met the president and such major South American literary figures as future Nobel laureate Mario Vargas Llosa. Chapter 34 goes on to describe Bradbury’s long association with Argentine artist and photographer Aldo Sessa and the books they worked on, The Ghosts of Forever (1980) and Séances and Ghosts (2000). Bradbury was able to gather enough stories for two collections, Quicker Than the Eye (1996) and Driving Blind (1997), and the following year Stuart Gordon and Roy Disney were able to bring The Wonderful Ice Cream Suit to home video release. Chapter 34 also describes the eventual loss of the Mel Gibson Fahrenheit 451 option and the 2018 HBO production.

This 2018 essay by art historian Kim A. Munson shares the details of her research on exhibits of original comic art in U.S. museums and galleries from 1930-1954. This chapter discusses several shows of the 1930’s from Thomas Nast at the Whitney (1932) to the display of the first Walt Disney animation cel purchased by the Metropolitan Museum of Art (1939). This chapter discusses World War II exhibits at the Metropolitan. This chapter discusses The Comic Strip: Its Ancient and Honorable Lineage and Present Significance, organized for the American Institute of Graphic Arts by Jessie Gillespie Willing (AIGA, 1942), which is a touring exhibit with historical works, comics, and comic books. Milton Caniff was a pioneer and advocate of comics exhibits representing himself (The Art of Terry and the Pirates 1939-1946) and later with the newly formed National Cartoonist Society organizing many shows including 20,000 Years of Comics (1949 Savings Bond Tour), and American Cartooning (Met Museum, 1951).

Although the British were kept aware of Gall’s doctrine from 1800 on, their reactions to it were muted until Spurzheim left him, made his way to London in 1814, and immediately began to promote what would soon become known as “phrenology” (a term he did not coin but began to use in 1818) in books and lecture-demonstrations throughout the British Isles. Anxious to stand out on his own after first associating himself with his more famous mentor, Spurzheim took it upon himself to modify Gall’s system, renaming some of the 27 faculties, adding a few new ones, and reclassifying them in what he considered a superior way. His first books appeared in English in 1815, and he was prolific. Gall was so bothered by the inroads Spurzheim was making that he visited London in 1823 to set the record straight. To his dismay, his lectures were not well attended and he cut his tour short. Spurzheim engaged in some well-covered debates with John Gordon, who considered the doctrine “a collection of mere absurdities,” and later with William Hamilton in Edinburgh. He also found a disciple in Edinburgh, George Combe, whose efforts would lead to the first phrenological society and journal, and in 1828 (the year of Gall’s death) a best-selling book, his Constitution of Man.

Gall was already starting to write a book about organology while in Vienna. It had been approved by the censor and he had a subscription to back it. But he did not complete it there or during his lecture-demonstration tour prior to entering France. He did, however, continue to collect more case studies and feedback along the way and in Paris, where he was helped with his French. Gall knew this book was important for his legitimacy as a serious scientist and for his legacy, and he spent a small fortune on the four volumes and magnificent accompanying atlas. Titled Anatomie et Physiologie du Système Nerveux en Général, et du Cerveau en Particulier, it came out between 1810 and 1819, with Spurzheim (who left him in the interim) as his co-author on the first two volumes and the atlas. To his dismay, Gall discovered that the set was too expensive for most of his readers to afford. This revelation led him to publish a less expensive “small edition” without the detailed neuroanatomy and the costly atlas, his Sur les Fonctions du Cerveau et sur Celles de Chacune de ses Parties, which left his organologie virtually unchanged and was completed in 1825. The latter was translated into English a decade later, seven years after his death, and it allowed a broader audience to follow his logic and see his evidence for multiple, independent organs of mind associated with discrete cortical territories.

Between May 28 – June 4, 2005, under the organization of the Hungarian Nuclear Society (HNS) and the Hungarian Young Generation Network (HYGN) — which operates within the framework of the HNS — a scientific expedition visited the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant and the surrounding exclusion zone. The participants were young Hungarian nuclear professionals supervised by more experienced experts. The main scientific goals of the expedition were the followings: • Get personal experiences in a direct way about the current status of the Chernobyl Power Plant and its surroundings, the contamination of the environment and about the doses. • Gather information about the state of the shut down power plant and the shelter built above the damaged 4th unit. • Training of young nuclear experts by performing on site measurements. The Hungarian expedition successfully achieved its objectives by performing wide-range of environmental and dosimetric measurements and collecting numerous biological and soil samples. Within the 30-km exclusion zone the influence of the accident occurred 20 years ago still could be measured clearly; however the level of the radioactivity is manageable in most places. The dosimetrical measurements showed that no considerable exposure occurred among the members of the expedition. The analysis of samples has been started at the International Chernobyl Center in Slavutich. During the expedition not only environmental sampling and in-situ measurements were carried out but it was also well documented with photos and video recordings for educational, training and PR purposes. A documentary TV film was recorded during the expedition. The first-hand knowledge acquired during the expedition helps the authentic communication of the accident and its present-day consequences, which is especially important in 2006, 20 years after the Chernobyl accident. Since Ukraine and Hungary are neighbor countries the media constantly discuss the accident, the consequences and the risks of using nuclear energy. In addition in November 2005 Hungary’s parliament approved plans to extend the lifetime of the country’s four-unit nuclear power plant. In order to have the crucial public support for nuclear energy it is very important to dispel unrealistic dismay and misbelieves regarding these questions. Thus it is extremely beneficial to have a film on this topic created by nuclear professionals especially for the public audience. In 2005 a book on the Chernobyl accident was published in Hungary that covers this expedition in a full chapter [2]. We plan to present the film to the audience of the conference.