As communities struggle to make sense of mass atrocities, expectations have increasingly been placed on international criminal courts to render authoritative historical accounts of episodes of mass violence. Taking these expectations as its point of departure, this book seeks to understand international criminal courts through the prism of their historical function. The book critically examines how such courts confront the past by constructing historical narratives concerning both the culpability of the accused on trial and the broader mass atrocity contexts in which they are alleged to have participated. The book argues that international criminal courts are host to struggles for historical justice, discursive contests between different actors vying for judicial acknowledgement of their interpretations of the past. By examining these struggles within different institutional settings, the book uncovers the legitimating qualities of international criminal judgments. In particular, it illuminates what tends to be foregrounded and included within, as well as marginalised and excluded from, the narratives of international criminal courts in practice. What emerges from this account is a sense of the significance of thinking about the emancipatory limits and possibilities of international criminal courts in terms of the historical narratives that are constructed and contested within and beyond the courtroom.

In Unsuspecting Souls, Barry Sanders examines modern society's indifference to the individual. Beginning with the Industrial Revolution, when care for human beings began to disappear slowly, and ending with the modern era, when societal events require less person-to-person interaction and introduce radical changes in common attitudes toward death and life, Sanders laments that what makes us most human is slowly dying. Our days are filled with a continuous bombardment of  information" that demands our attention and brings us out of our world and into a sterile one of inhumanity and abstraction.We've also lost the original sense of a collective consciousness. This loss has been culminating for two centuries now, dating back to the rise of European powers and worldwide colonization. We pick our poisons among several forms of radical fundamentalisms, each one not only a threat to the other but a threat to humanity itself. From references of Edgar Allan Poe to Abu Ghraib, this is a fascinating and worrisome story, impeccably researched and compellingly written.

During the War Between the States, James McCormick, an Irish-Catholic immigrant in Potsdam, New York, works for a carriage manufacturer and wants to marry Annie Cutting, the boss's daughter. Cutting hires James to take his place in the war, promising that James and Annie can marry when James returns. The conflict between the Irish-Catholic wheelwright and the upper class English-Anglican Cuttings continues to develop as the story follows James in the 60th New York State Volunteer Regiment. Tensions build when it appears Cutting will not keep his word, James becomes jealous of another man, typhoid fever strikes James's regiment, and the battles rage on. Can love survive one of the country's greatest upheavals? The actual history of the 60th New York State Volunteer Regiment and accounts of its battles at Antietam, Chancellorsville, Gettysburg, and Lookout Mountain weave through the words of a soldier from Company A in this wartime love saga.

Sudden Glory presents the history of one of the most evanescent but powerful forms of human expression - laughter. Here is the first book to look not at humor or comedy, but it laughter itself - and specifically at the way laughter evolved into an effective weapon for political subversion. Barry Sanders asks What did people laugh at? And why? What was the Church's attitude? The Rabbis'? Who could do it, when, and at whom? When did the joke first appear? Sudden Glory records the changes in attitudes toward laughter from the ancient world down to the present, with specific emphasis on cultural shifts from the late Middle Ages, when the Church's reach into the realm of the body was felt throughout society, through the end of the eighteenth century, when only deviants and derelicts laughed freely. Along the way, Sanders imagines the voices of women and peasants, whose laughter often went unrecorded, but surely not unheard. Sanders concludes with a brilliant chapter on contemporary laughter, beginning with "sick" comic Lenny Bruce (with whom he was personally acquainted), and ending with women stand-up comics, who seem to be finding their voices while male comics are mired in adolescent shtick. Sudden Glory, which contains an extensive bibliography on the subject of laughter, is an important study from one of our most penetrating and playful public intellectuals.

The failure of increasing numbers of young people to attain even minimum levels of literacy signals a catastrophe at the deepest levels of our culture. A Is for Ox is an important and impassioned work that both proves this conclusion and suggests what can be done to change it.