Fifteenth-century handbook, written by a working artist of the day, reveals secrets and techniques of the masters in drawing, oil painting, frescoes, panel painting, gilding, casting, more. Direct link to artists of the Middle Ages. Translation and Introduction by D. V. Thompson. "Delightful flavor..." — N.Y. Herald Tribune.

    In one sense, their interrelationship is obvious. The first two address a question that was more in the forefront of scholarship a dozen years ago than it is today: the question of differences among religious orders.  These two essays set out a method of reading texts for imagery and borrowings as well as for spiritual teaching in order to determine whether individuals who live in different institutional settings hold differing assumptions about the significance of their lives.  The essays apply the method to the broader question of differences between regular canons and monks and the narrower question of differences between one kind of monk--the Cistercians--and other religious groups, monastic and nonmonastic, of the twelfth century.  The third essay draws on some of the themes of the first two, particularly the discussion of canonical and Cistercian conceptions of the individual brother as example, to suggest  an interpretation of twelfth-century religious life as concerned with the nature of groups as well as with affective expression.  The fourth essay, again on Cistercian monks, elaborates themes of the first three. Its subsidiary goals are to provide further evidence on distinctively Cistercian attitudes and to elaborate the Cistercian ambivalence about vocation that I delineate in the essay on conceptions of community. It also raises questions that have now become popular in nonacademic as well as academic circles: what significance should we give to the increase of feminine imagery in twelfth-century religious writing by males? Can we learn anything about distinctively male or female spiritualities from this feminization of language? The fifth essay differs from the others in turning to the thirteenth century rather than the twelfth, to women rather than men, to detailed analysis of many themes in a few thinkers rather than one theme in many writers; it is nonetheless based on the conclusions of the earlier studies. The sense of monastic vocation and of the priesthood, of the authority of God and self, and of the significance of gender that I find in the three great mystics of late thirteenth-century Helfta can be understood only against the background of the growing twelfth- and thirteenth-century concern for evangelism and for an approachable God, which are the basic themes of the first four essays. Such connections between the essays will be clear to anyone who reads them. There are, however, deeper methodological and interpretive continuities among them that I wish to underline here. For these studies constitute a plea for an approach to medieval spirituality that is not now--and perhaps has never been--dominant in medieval scholarship. They also provide an interpretation of the religious life of the high Middle Ages that runs against the grain of recent emphases on the emergence of "lay spirituality." I therefore propose to give, as introduction, both a discussion of recent approaches to medieval piety and a short sketch of the religious history of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, emphasizing those themes that are the context for my specific investigations. I do not want to be misunderstood. In providing here a discussion of approaches to and trends in medieval religion I am not claiming that the studies that follow constitute a general history nor that my method should replace that of social, institutional, and intellectual historians.  A handful of Cistercians does not typify the twelfth century, nor three nuns the thirteenth. Religious imagery, on which I concentrate, does not tell us how people lived. But because these essays approach texts in a way others have not done, focus on imagery others have not found important, and insist, as others have not insisted, on comparing groups to other groups (e.g., comparing what is peculiarly male to what is female as well as vice versa), I want to call attention to my approach to and my interpretation of the high Middle Ages in the hope of encouraging others to ask similar questions.

    For students of museum, cultural and sociology studies, this will be an asset to their reading list.

    But how do these images compare with the evidence revealed by the excavator's trowel? Recent archaeological research has transformed our understanding of the period. Reflecting this new generation of scholarship, Professor Barry Raftery presents the most convincing and up-to-date account yet published of Ireland in the millennium before the coming of Christianity.The transition from Bronze Age to Iron Age in Ireland brought many changes, not least the proliferation of imposing hillforts. Did these have a purely defensive role, or were they built for ceremonial or commercial purposes? When did the Celtic character of early Ireland emerge? New findings indicate that the construction of the country's great royal centers, such as Tara and Emain Macha, coincides with the first appearance in Ireland of the material culture of the European Celts - so-called La Tene artifacts. The author argues that these were the portable trappings of a rising aristocratic elite, which expressed its power by building highly visible monuments.Professor Raftery also discusses the significant advances that took place in travel and transport, including the creation of the largest roadway in prehistoric Europe; the elusive lives of the common people; the idiosyncratic genius of the local metalsmiths; and the complex religious beliefs exemplified by standing stones, and offerings in rivers and lakes. He presents fascinating new material about Ireland's contacts with the Roman world, and in a final chapter he reviewsthe whole question of whether La Tene culture spread to Ireland through invasion or peaceful diffusion. Pagan Celtic Ireland is the definitive statement of what we currently know about the country's shadowy, Celtic origins. Generously illustrated throughout, it will be read avidly

    Another man moves in front of the target.Atcho remains steady while in his mind’s eye he re-lives the events that had brought him to this point. Graduation with honors on a military parade field. Abandoned in battle. Seventeen years in the world’s worst dungeons. Separated from his motherless child. Coerced into espionage against the adopted country he loves.He has no way out.He creates one.The target clears. He sights on the birthmark once more. A persistent thought invades his concentration. How fast does World War III start after I take the shot? As he applies pressure to the cold, curved steel against his finger, another thought intrudes. What happens to my daughter if I don’t?Discover the suspense in this thriller that pits an unwilling spy against hidden masters who manipulate his sense of honor against his love of family and country. If you love spy thrillers, don't miss this one because, like Jason Bourne, Atcho stumbles when tripped. He bleeds when cut, but he never compromises or breaks. Get it now.

    No album represented this rip-it-up-and-start-again movement better than the act's breakthrough 1982 LP, Rio. A cohesive album with a retro-futuristic sound-influences include danceable disco, tangy funk, swaggering glam, and Roxy Music's art-rock-the full-length sold millions and spawned smashes such as "Hungry Like the Wolf" and the title track.However, Rio wasn't a success everywhere at first; in fact, the LP had to be buffed-up with remixes and reissued before it found an audience in America. The album was further buoyed by colorful music videos, which established Duran Duran as leaders of an MTV-driven second British Invasion, and the group's cutting-edge visual aesthetic. Via extensive new interviews with band members and other figures who helped Rio succeed, this book explores how and why Rio became a landmark pop-rock album, and examines how the LP was both a musical inspiration-and a reflection of a musical, cultural, and technology zeitgeist.

    When sea raiders threaten the villages along the Margolan coast, young Jonmarc Vahanian risks everything to save his family. The Jonmarc Vahanian AdventuresSoldier. Fight slave. Smuggler. Warrior. Brigand lord. If you’ve met Jonmarc Vahanian in the Chronicles of the Necromancer and Fallen Kings Cycle books, you don’t really know him until you take his journey.

    

    How did women in 16th century western Europe cope with the consequences of being considered inherently sinful--as well as being legally and economically subordinate to their fathers, husbands, brothers, and sons? What might become of a woman unable to raise a dowry? What were the difficulties faced by spinsters, single mothers, and widows? In this brilliant investigation into the lives of women from all social strata, Hufton leads us from poor-house to palazzo, from cradle to grave, illuminating what it meant to be female in western Europe during the years 1500 to 1800.

    

    Loyalties are tested and families are divided as individuals battle to deliver themselves from hardship, prejudice and injustice.Based on a true story of Puritans and pirates, The Hummingbird and the Sea is a powerful tale of love, faith, hidden passions and the eternal search for freedom.

    It was an astonishing achievement for a British team led by Everest veteran Charles Evans. Drawing on interviews, diaries and unpublished accounts, Mick Conefrey begins his story in 1905 with the first, disastrous attempt on the mountain by a team led by Aleister Crowley, explores the three dramatic German expeditions of the the late 1920s and brings it all to a climax 50 years later with the first ascent by Joe Brown and George Band. The Last Great Mountain is the final instalment of Mick Conefrey's acclaimed high altitude trilogy.

    Most of the pictures, even those that seem unprepossessing at first glance, are made riveting by Sister Wendy's quirky, personal narratives, in which the simplest of images is suddenly rendered a dramatic focal point. A perfectly ordinary Dutch scene by Hendrick Avercamp--Frozen River, 1620--shows people going about their business on a lively patch of ice where children play hockey and adults chat and work. Sister Wendy seizes on a fishing hole cut into the ice through which a circle of cold, black water is apparent. "The hole that has been cut in the ice can frighten us when our eye falls into it, and this is the only hint of the inherent danger of the scene," she writes ominously. In Anthony Van Dyck's magnificent portrait of Charles I of England, she observes of his regal hauteur, "In hindsight we can see the tragedy: that a man so remote from common humanity, so superb in his conceit, must be heading for a fall." There are bound to be some infelicitous matches in a book that is arranged alphabetically, such as the pages shared by Robert Mangold's hot, geometric Four Color Frame Painting No. 1, 1983, and Andrea Mantegna's profoundly reverent Dead Christ, 1480. And Rosalba Carriera's portraits look decidedly meretricious across from those of the masterful Mary Cassatt. But all in all, this is a page-turner with brief captions that offer guidance to any reader in search of the telling note that draws one to a work of art, whatever its era, style, size, or subject. --Martha Hardin

    But on her first night there, she learns that blood isn't the only thing on the menu—and consent isn't always required. When dark and mysterious Vasily rides to her rescue, she's grateful, then confused when the vampire insists she’s something special. But she’s not. She’s just another boring human living in Distant Edge, where supernaturals roam free. Or is she? Synergist: The Vectum is book one in a five-part reverse harem serial. Each part is approximately 10,000 words and is meant to be read in order.

    Rackham's illustrations for such works as Alice in Wonderland, A Midsummer Night's Dream, Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens, and Rip Van Winkle have attained the classic status of the writings themselves—and indeed, in some cases, they have become synonymous with them. His works were also included in numerous exhibitions in his lifetime, including one at the Louvre in Paris in 1914. Rackham himself, however, has previously remained a shadowy figure. As well as featuring exquisite illustrations and sketches, extracts from Rackham's correspondence and insightful commentary shed new light on this much-collected illustrator.