The fiery transformation of the dead is replete in our popular culture and Western modernity's death ways, and yet it is increasingly evident how little this disposal method is understood by archaeologists and students of cognate disciplines in the humanities and social sciences. In this regard, the archaeological study of cremation has much to offer. Cremation is a fascinating and widespread theme and entry-point in the exploration of the variability of mortuary practices among past societies. Seeking to challenge simplistic narratives of cremation in the past and present, the studies in this volume seek to confront and explore the challenges of interpreting the variability of cremation by contending with complex networks of modern allusions and imaginings of cremations past and present and ongoing debates regarding how we identify and interpret cremation in the archaeological record. Using a series of original case studies, the book investigates the archaeological traces of cremation in a varied selection of prehistoric and historic contexts from the Mesolithic to the present in order to explore cremation from a practice-oriented and historically situated perspective.

The evidence of death and dying has been removed from the everyday lives of most Westerners. Yet we constantly live with the awareness of our vulnerability as mortals. Drawing on a range of genres, bands and artists, Mortality and Music examines the ways in which popular music has responded to our awareness of the inevitability of death and the anxiety it can evoke. Exploring bereavement, depression, suicide, violence, gore, and fans' responses to the deaths of musicians, it argues for the social and cultural significance of popular music's treatment of mortality and the apparent absurdity of existence.

"I am learning the alchemy of grief-how it must be carefully measured and doled out, inflicted-but I have not yet mastered this art," writes Judith Ortiz Cofer in The Cruel Country. This richly textured, deeply moving, lyrical memoir centers on Cofer's return to her native Puerto Rico after her mother has been diagnosed with late-stage lung cancer. Cofer's work has always drawn strength from her life's contradictions and dualities, such as the necessities and demands of both English and Spanish, her travels between and within various mainland and island subcultures, and the challenges of being a Latina living in the U.S. South. Interlaced with these far-from-common tensions are dualities we all share: our lives as both sacred and profane, our negotiation of both child and adult roles, our desires to be the person who belongs and also the person who is different. What we discover in The Cruel Country is how much Cofer has heretofore held back in her vivid and compelling writing. This journey to her mother's deathbed has released her to tell the truth within the truth. She arrives at her mother's bedside as a daughter overcome by grief, but she navigates this cruel country as a writer-an acute observer of detail, a relentless and insistent questioner.

Death Embraced is like no other book you have ever read. Fascinating and entertaining, it leads readers to ponder issues that should not be avoided. Some may want to use it as a guide to visiting New Orleans graveyards . . . or as a guide to life. "An amazing book by an even more amazing writer, historian and educator with vast knowledge of the Crescent City's history and an intimate understanding of many of the Big Easy's lesser-known cultural traditions and customs. A must-read for anyone who is serious about learning the true history of New Orleans. I dare you to try to put it down after reading its first few pages." -Edmund W. Lewis, Editor, The Louisiana Weekly "A gem of a book, full of little things you didn't know you wanted to know. With subtitle wit and serious depth of knowledge, Mary LaCoste shares the down and dirty of one of New Orleans most mysterious institutions." -Liz Scott, New Orleans Magazine

Death is Serious is not a simple dignified, economical look into the funeral industry. It is a slap in the face look, with a bloody towel. Death is Serious presents itself like a virus in black and white through a collection of stories told as if you were listening to them in a bar. In graphic detail events which occurred behind and in front of that big green door in the funeral home are expressed that will captivate the curious, constipate the courageous and instigate conversation. Reading Death is Serious may cause serious emotional outbursts. The reader accepts all responsibility for reading Death in Serious.

The number of deaths due to substance abuse and addiction is difficult to calculate - the actual causes are varied, often hushed - and numbers are skewed though rising starkly. More immeasurable is the impact of these deaths on a community. Parents, friends, partners in business and life, coworkers, sons and daughters, and acquaintances of these casualties live with the grief. Their despair in turn affects everyone they contact. No community member is left unaffected by abuse of both legal and illicit drugs. The personal stories in Untimely relate experiences of people who have lost a loved one from substance abuse. These stories extend the legacies of the deceased and help survivors to deepen compassion for the afflicted and their untimely deaths. The wisdom that surfaces in these testimonials adds to the global discussion of substance abuse.

Death is a hard topic to talk about, but exploring it openly can lead to a new understanding about how to live. In this series of eighteen essays, college students examine death in new ways. Their essays provide remarkable ideas about how death can transform people and societies.

Alfred G. Killilea, a professor of political science at the University of Rhode Island, teams up with former student Dylan D. Lynch and various contributors to share insights about a multitude of issues tied to death, including terrorists, child soldiers, Nazism, fascism, suicide, capital punishment and the Black Death.

Other essays explore death themes in classic and contemporary literature, such as in Dante, Peter Pan, Kurt Vonnegut, and Christopher Hitchens. Still others explore death in modern context, considering the work of Jane Goodall, the threat of death on Mount Everest, the origins of the "Grim Reaper," and how violent street gangs deal with death.

At a time when American politics suffers from deep ideological divisions that could make our nation ungovernable, our mutual mortality may be the most potent force for unifying us and helping us to find common ground.

Simultaneously real and unreal, the dead are people, yet they are not. The society of medieval Europe developed a rich set of imaginative traditions about death and the afterlife, using the dead as a point of entry for thinking about the self, regeneration, and loss. These macabre preoccupations are evident in the widespread popularity of stories about the returned dead, who interacted with the living both as disembodied spirits and as living corpses or revenants. In Afterlives, Nancy Mandeville Caciola explores this extraordinary phenomenon of the living's relationship with the dead in Europe during the five hundred years after the year 1000.Caciola considers both Christian and pagan beliefs, showing how certain traditions survived and evolved over time, and how attitudes both diverged and overlapped through different contexts and social strata. As she shows, the intersection of Christian eschatology with various pagan afterlife imaginings-from the classical paganisms of the Mediterranean to the Germanic, Celtic, Slavic, and Scandinavian paganisms indigenous to northern Europe-brought new cultural values about the dead into the Christian fold as Christianity spread across Europe. Indeed, the Church proved surprisingly open to these influences, absorbing new images of death and afterlife in unpredictable fashion. Over time, however, the persistence of regional cultures and beliefs would be counterbalanced by the effects of an increasingly centralized Church hierarchy. Through it all, one thing remained constant: the deep desire in medieval people to bring together the living and the dead into a single community enduring across the generations.