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Brewed Awakenings
Common Grounds. Mocha Lisa. Stir Crazy. The Grounds Keeper. Artist-author Jeff Hagen sipped his way through coffee houses with these names while producing this charming guide to some of the best independent spots to “catch a cuppa” in this region. As the title implies, most of his hot picks are in Wisconsin, but (one would reason) fueled by massive amounts of caffeine, Jeff couldn’t stop there, so he included a few Minnesota favorites.
Jeff, who has won awards for his artwork in Lake Superior Magazine, sampled the brew and often a scone or muffin at each stop while visiting with the clientele. His artistic renditions capture the charm of fine coffee shops in Hayward, Wisconsin, Duluth or other regional spots.
Jeff’s reporting of his experiences with the locals, the owners and the atmosphere of each coffee joint feels as comfortable as a favorite warm mug on chilly hands.
This is a fun little 6-inch-square book that fits in a purse or glove box for easy access on any caffeinated road trip through Wisconsin … and beyond.
- Siiri Branstrom
We Are at Home
We’ve all seen the stereotypical “portraits” of Native Americans, often men, from the 19th and early 20th centuries. Those stylized shots liberally mingled items from the Lakota, Ojibway, Navajo or other cultures to get the right “Indian” look in the eyes of a non-Indian photographer.
We rarely knew - except in the case of chiefs at war with the United States - who was the man in the photo or anything truly about his culture.
That is not the kind of picture book that Bruce White has created in We Are at Home: Pictures of the Ojibwe People.
Bruce has chosen more than 200 photographs of Ojibway people, of where and how they lived, of their families and their celebrations.
The author holds a doctorate in anthropology from the University of Minnesota and this sometimes academic text reflects that. In most of the book, Bruce’s 20 years of research bring alive the stories behind the images, some of which show the communities here to meet those French-Canadian fur traders and priests, the Scandinavian fishermen or the Eastern European miners who moved to these shores.
Whenever possible, he tells about who is in the photo and how they fit into their community. He reveals the photographers, too, and often what motivated their picture making.
This is not a one-sitting book and is best savored by the sections separated into cradleboards (popular subjects for early photographers), community leaders, homes, seasonal changes and other aspects of life.
Before you begin the reading, however, first browse the images as you would a family album, absorbing the faces and places and remembering that the descendants of those in these photos still live and thrive around the lake today.
– Konnie LeMay
Almost Tomorrow
Far from the confusing poetry many of us remember from school, Almost Tomorrow: The Poetry of Ray Nargis is like a collection of stories with writing that grabs you from the first line. Ray’s words cut to the chase, as in “The Devil” and “Citizen’s Arrest.” His stories contain sadness, humor and uncommon honesty.
Ray is as an award-winning poet, short story and non-fiction writer who lives in Ely, Minnesota, where he hosts a Sunday morning radio show.
The stunning “Anzio” is about getting lost on a country road and meeting an old couple selling fruit.
“So you’re a writer,” the old woman says. “My son was a writer. I want to show you something.”
... She presses a folded square of paper into my hand
And as I unwrap it, the paper is so old
Bits fleck away and fall to the dirt.
But the words at the bottom of the note are unscathed
And they are remarkable.
It says: “Sometimes love is like a young mother trying to take a knife away from a child. No matter how you go at it,
Eventually you just have to reach in and hope for the best.”
“My son wrote that a long time ago,” she says.
“I always thought it should be in a story.
He died in World War II, at Anzio in January 1944.
We found it on a map in the National Geographic.”
It’s easy to lose yourself reading this wonderful book of poetry.
– Bob Berg