American Ruins is far more than it appears. On the surface, it is a very well designed and exquisitely photographed essay on the vanishing farmsteads of the northern plains states in the USA. That's like saying the Mona Lisa is a woman.

On the next plane, the photographs-panoramics mainly, in black-and-white on infrared film-are beyond photography. They are a spiritual experience on paper that comes as close to the experience of truth as can be done without becoming it yourself. They are haunting, wistful, emotional evocations of the pain of time and loss, the invisible presence of people in what the picture does not, cannot, show, in the way that only black-and-white can push you out of "that" into "thisness." As the foreword puts it: "... as if the camera has recorded something going on inside your head and projected it onto a wall." Small wonder many feel black-and-white is the most difficult image recorder to work with, and also to many the most sublime when done well.

Sublime Mr. MacKenzie is. This is one of the most remarkably photographed books to come off the presses in a long time. Not just well done, but literally beyond compare; the sole occupant of its category. The photographs are closer to poetry without a pen than to the interaction between film and lens. Songs without words in an A-4 landscape book. The only thing to match them is the writing excerpts that "captions" them. (The captions in the conventional sense are Notes at the end of the book.) Mr. MacKenzie chose the excerpts himself, and he certainly did his homework well. Wallace Stegner is here, Robert Frost, Willa Cather, Henry Miller, Frank Lloyd right, and two writers who would probably be surprised to find their sentences thrust alongside the eloquence of this book. But here they are, and no the less eloquent:

"When family love is displaced onto land, every change that happens there has meaning: the calibre of the light and the texture of the clouds in a day, the big changes of the seasons, most of all the slow transformation of the infrastructure of the place itself as the decades pass. When the deflection of love is also a deflection of pain, the gradual decomposition of such a place can be excruciating, a kind of lifelong torture, and yet, at the same time, a hypnotic, unfolding story. As the place declines, layers of meaning are revealed."

=Suzannah Lessard, "The Architect of Desire: Beauty and Danger in the Stanford White Family"

To which Annette Atkins adds, in "Harvest of Grief: Grasshopper Plagues and Public Assistance* in Minnesota, 1872-78":

"Minnesota lost settlers during the dark days of the 1870s . . . but thousands remained. Some could afford to stay; some could not afford to leave. Debts held some. Others wanted to hold on to their investments of time and energy. Some held different attachments; as one man explained: 'I have lost my all here, & somehow I believe that if I find it again, it will be in the immediate neighborhood where I lost it . . . I have a child buried on my claim & my ties are stronger & more binding on that account.'"

In between is writing that calls our attention to what the unrushed eye can see: ". . . leaning barns and windowless houses, jutting up like wreckage in oceans of furrowed wheat and sorghum, architecture that looks more like a visible absence of something, like a missing tooth, than it looks like a presence of sun-curled clapboard and tatters of tar paper. It looks like ruins . . . of dreams that didn't work out."

Then he goes beyond all that, to the lives unseen in these pictures, flesh long gone but souls still there, a kind of spirit of determination to match this spirit of place: ". . . boredom, bad luck, debt, despair; about the blizzard that leaves you burning your inside walls to stay alive because if you go outside for firewood you'll vanish; about a summer erupting with wheat until the grasshoppers darken the sky and eat everything-wheat, vegetable garden, even the leaves on the trees; about a husband who tells his wife he'll be right back after he rides out to round up two cows-she watches him ride around the cows and keep going and he never comes back."

Beauty of a special kind, these-of death, decay, the falling to ruin-but life of a kind all the more: eonic, seasonless as a century, brutal cold and brutal heat, wind vying only with grass for endlessness, and to the human who endures these and thus surpasses the self, transfiguration. Into this, the Great Plains, families came, filled with grit and ambition and not a few starry-eyed dreams. They are still here, here in these pictures. Look around the corners and there they are, in the boards of the barn they nailed, among the leaves in the trees they planted. With all that's in this book, we can see what we never would have before, the eyes of dreams become the last remains of a rainbow.

That said, this is what books used to be in the highest sense of the craft. And still are, if only we seek out and buy the work of presses like the Afton Historical Society.

This is the book for people who didn't think that they liked landscape photography. MacKenzie takes you through a voyage to the abandoned worlds of farms, schools and other building in the middle of the nowhere lands of midwestern America. Here we find that ruined farmhouse, strangely sculpted by the winds and snow of many winters, but not depicted as some quaint, picturesque image, but as a stark vision in long Puritan panoramic views that work to make the landscapes appear as through they are suspended in time, a strange reminder of once active places, now abandoned and ruined, but notheless spectacular in their setting. This is the photographer that will make you throw away your Nan Goldins and your Cindy Shermans and discover what is it that makes photography the newest vibrant member of the visual fine arts.

Patrick Morris has written an exceptional book detailing Anaconda's unique history. He captures the flavor of a city whose birth was sculpted by the great dreams of pioneer capitalists (those famous warring copper kings) and very hard-working pioneering men and women. To read this history of a town built upon a copper smelting industry, as documented through the prism of Anaconda perspectives--and not just as another sideline adjunct to Butte's storied copper mining--is a long overdue pleasure. This is a very readable book that speaks to Anaconda's importance to the copper mining and smelting industry in Montana.

Seems very factual and concise about the early history of the town, Marcus Daly the man and the Anaconda company. Very interesting and I am sure that everyone will enjoy reading it. Very good insight into the area history.

Anchorage: Early Photographs Of The Great Land is a splendidly produced compendium of historic black and white photography showcasing the Native Americas, landscape, settlement, construction emergences of the largest city in Alaska and the Cook Inlet. From its beginnings as a little railroad town to a thoroughly metropolitan community, Ann Chandonnet has gathered striking and memorable photos enhanced with her informative and engaging text telling the stories of the people who made the city what it is today. Anchorage is a superb photo history.

These early photos of Anchorage, Alaska provide a fine capsule history of the town's beginnings and evolution, creating a paperback packed with image sure to appeal to any who live in the region or to those with a special affection for early Alaskan history. A fine collection of involving images.

This book is: well-written, well-plotted and well-paced, with realistic characters.

Its seldom one gets a treat like "And Love Came Calling" a lesbian western, which is also a love story.

The story revolves around two central female characters: Sophie McLaren, a recent widow who now has been forced since the death of her husband, to accept the begrudging charity of her domineering and dangerous brother-in-law, and Kendra "Kenny" Smith, a butch woman who has found it necessary to disguise herself as a man.

The story involves: a stagecoach hold-up, saloon girls with the proverbial hearts of gold, a fair & determined sheriff, outlaws, and a whole lot more.

This excellent novel has found a permanent home on my bookshelf, and I highly recommend it to anyone who enjoys strong female characters and a historical setting like the old west--you won't be disappointed, that's for sure.

This book has a fresh story line! You come away believing that this could actually have been a real account of women loving women in the Old West! This author is wonderful! She is right up there with Randye Lordon and Katherine Forrest! I can't wait for her next book!!! (are you listening Rising Tide?)

This is a great book, the best book I have read in a long time. I feel like I am traveling the world with Annie and the Wild West Show.

The book had alot of information just it didn't really focus on Annie it was on Buffalo Bill's show more often. It wasn't very helpful in the report I did on her.

The well known poem, starting with the line "For the Want of a Shoe, the Horse was Lost,"serves to describe the talents of William R. Nester. In this information packed book we see a wide range of individual and collective actions of Native Americans, Fur Trappers, Explorers and Financiers in the development of the American West. Then Nester carries these inter-related actions to a higher plain to show how they would impact on the larger, international scene down the historical path.

Many of us are all familiar with the Arikara War when there would be armed conflict against elements of Ashley's and Henry's party as they ascended the Missouri River. Nester applies more than enough information to ground his readers in these series of episodes. But he also shows in the larger picture how the Arikara, Hidatsa and Mandan would eventually emerge as middlemen in both commerce and trade over a truly wide geographical range, such as Santa Fe, British operations and St. Louis trade. The Arikara War would become the harbinger of things to unfold in both commercial and political developments and their impact upon America's Western regions.

Some would clamor that such conflicts were evidence that Hudson's Bay Company, British agents and others were out to incite Native Americans against American interests in the middle Missouri trade.. While such charges might have been unfounded, they would be useful in attempts to gain governmental support and motivate public opinion.

An added dimension for this book is Nester's analysis of the evolution and shifts of power among different Native American tribes. A good example of this are the results of the 1837 small pox epidemic that would shift the balance of power on the so-called middle Missouri region. The Lakota Sioux, apparently less severely affected in this epidemic, would emerge as the most powerful tribe. This would be a far more important factor in the decline of Arikara influence than the expedition of General Henry Leavenworth and a military detachment and a group of Sioux Indians against the Arikara nation. A peace without complete victory would cause the Arikara to continue to be potential adversaries. With the shift of power the Sioux Indians would come to the front to be a considerable threat in later years until the Battle of Wounded Knee in 1891 would close that chapter.

A number of us (including me) attribute the loss of the beaver trade primarily to the change in fashion to silk top hats. Nester shows that the beaver supply had begun to run out a considerable time before the last rendezvous held at Green River in 1840. Resulting efforts to find new beaver regions would also have their impact upon both local and international relations. The resulting shift to the buffalo trade would continue until those animals practically disappeared in the 1880s.

It would not be trappers or explorers but the constant avalanche of American settlers who moved into the Northwest regions that sealed the fate of those areas, which British authorities ceded to the United States in 1846. Here we see a wide range of causes and resulting effects on the American West in a finely crafted, well researched book. Rounding out this presentation are the appendices, which include a well done index, chapter end notes and an extensive bibliography of titles for additional research.

The first military encounter between the fledgling United States government and western Indian tribes was the Arikara War. In 1823, at the height of the fur trade, Arikara warriors attacked an American trapping expedition on the Missouri River in what is now South Dakota. 230 solders, 50 aggrieved trappers, and 750 Sioux allies retaliated against the Arikara under the command of Colonel Henry Leavenworth. The result was the defeat of the Arikara and a debate between Americans advocating the firm subjugation of the Native Americans and those who held to more pacific and accommodationist philosophies. The Arikara War: The First Plains Indian War, 1823 offers both white and Indian perspectives as it examines causes and effects of this little, time-lost war. William Nester's informative, engaging text is enhanced for students of Native American history with paintings by Bodmer, Catlin, Miller, and other period artists. The Arikara War is also available in hardcover....

This book is helpful to find out about often overlooked small Arizona towns. The author toke lots of time and attention to detail to create a masterpiece such as this has become. It will forever be remembered as one of the great arizona books.

I like this book and I often find myself going back to it and rereading chapters. It's well written and the photos are great.

[Paired review with Ghost Towns of Colorado, by Philip Varney]

I'm going to be lazy here, and refer you to my review of Varney's Colorado book, nearby. Both are splendid, and both belong in the library of any ghost-town fan.

Pete Tillman visited his first Colorado ghost towns some 40 years ago, and has since been to hundreds more throughout the West, both for work and for fun. Vulture (AZ) is his current favorite "true" ghost. But, hmm, Bodie (CA) is bigger and better-kept.... And Jerome (AZ) has the best views... And I've *still* never been to Crystal (CO). So much to see, so little time....

This book contains a wealth of factual background data on each ghost town, as well as numerous "back then" and "see it now" photographs. The book maintains the high standards expected from the publishers of "Arizona Highways Magazine"

This is a great book for anyone that wants to learn about this desert and the plants and animals that live in it. Unlike some of the other books about this topic that are written in an academic/textbook style, this book is written in a lively, question & answer format and is full of interesting and unusual facts. I've lived in this region for over 25 years and I learned quite a bit by reading this book.

I only saw this once in the bookstore, and just by flipping through it, I knew it had to be a part of my book-collection. Just moving to the desert southwest, I have been thirsty for more about my new eco-system and home........I may not have so many dilemmas now on critters and plants..........

I've lived in Arizona most of my life, and had a good general background understanding of information on earlier times in Arizona. This book really helped to fill in a lot of blanks, and explained things in a very sensible, well-thought-out manner. Starting in pre-historic times, leading into the early Native American migrations and settlements in the Southwest, on to Spanish exploration and colonial days, followed by Mexican and then American ownership of this territory - all of this is well laid out, and well researched and explained.

I would highly recommend this book for any resident of Arizona, anyone interested in early history, and especially for anyone with interest in how we ended up where we are today.

I've read several books on Arizona history and in many ways this is one of the best. I think that there are several things that set this book apart. First, it is very thorough. Each of its 400 plus pages is filled with fact and information. Additionally, it covers some topics in more depth than similar books. For example, this book contains a lot of information about early Hispanic settlers, their history and impact on the state. Other texts seem to focus more on the history of European settlers who came to the state. It also seems that the author spent a lot of time researching this book from original records and documents. He is not just restating information found in other history books. If I had to come up with a negative for this book it's that the writing style leans toward being "academic." If you're looking for a "fun" book on Arizona, full of colorful stories or humorous anecdotes, then this is not the book for you. However, if you really want to learn about the state's history then this book should be part of your collection.