Books like Alma, or The Dead Women by Alice Notley

A Jungian analyst and storyteller explores the Wild Woman archetype, using myths, fairy and folk tales to help women reconnect with creativity, instinct, and inner vitality.

A bold exploration of pregnancy, childbirth, and artistic expression through verse, prose, and dialogue.

Poetry. "Entertaining, moving, Notley's work engages ever-deepening areas of division and isolation while settling for nothing less than a restoration of wholeness" —Joseph Donahue.

Contemporary feminist critics have often described surrealism as a misogynist movement. In Automatic Woman, Katharine Conley addresses this issue, confirming some feminist allegations while qualifying and overturning others. Through insightful analyses of works by a range of writers and artists, Conley develops a complex view of surrealist portrayals of Woman. Conley begins with a discussion of the composite image of Woman developed by such early male surrealists as Andre Breton, Francis Picabia, and Paul Eluard. She labels that image "Automatic Woman" - a term that comprises views of Woman as provocative and revolutionary but also as a depersonalized object largely devoid of individuality and volition. This analysis largely confirms feminist critiques of surrealism. The heart of the book, however, examines the writings of Leonora Carrington and Unica Zurn, two women in the surrealist movement whose works, Conley argues, anticipate much contemporary feminist art and theory. In concluding, Conley shows how Breton's own views on women evolved over the course of his long career, arriving at last at a position far more congenial to contemporary feminists.

The dead rise again in a spine-tingling collection of ghostly visitations through the ages, recorded in historical narratives, theological texts and personal letters from more than 1,500 years, showing the evolution of our thinking about zombies and other restless souls. --Publisher's description.

Are trees social beings? Forester and author Peter Wohlleben makes the case that, yes, the forest is a social network. He draws on groundbreaking scientific discoveries to describe how trees are like human families: tree parents live together with their children, communicate with them, support them as they grow, share nutrients with those who are sick or struggling, and even warn each other of impending dangers. Wohlleben also shares his deep love of woods and forests, explaining the amazing processes of life, death, and regeneration he has observed in his woodland.