Publications of Michael F D'Alessandro    :recent first  alphabetical  combined listing:

%% Books   
@book{fds366561,
   Author = {D'Alessandro, M},
   Title = {Staged Readings Contesting Class in Popular American Theater
             and Literature, 1835-75},
   Pages = {300 pages},
   Year = {2022},
   ISBN = {9780472220588},
   Abstract = {The book will be particularly appealing to those interested
             in histories of popular theater, literature and reading,
             social class, and mass culture.},
   Key = {fds366561}
}


%% Essays/Articles/Chapters in Books   
@article{fds327295,
   Author = {D'Alessandro, MF},
   Title = {Shifting Perceptions, Precarious Perspectives in Two of
             O'Neill's Early Sea Plays},
   Journal = {The Eugene O'Neill Review},
   Volume = {27},
   Pages = {21-21},
   Year = {2007},
   Key = {fds327295}
}

@article{fds327293,
   Author = {D'Alessandro, MF},
   Title = {Childless 'Fathers,' Native Sons: Performing the Indian in
             Faulkner's Go Down, Moses},
   Journal = {Mississippi Quarterly},
   Volume = {67},
   Number = {3},
   Pages = {375-375},
   Publisher = {College of Arts and Sciences of Mississippi State
             University},
   Year = {2014},
   Key = {fds327293}
}

@article{fds327292,
   Author = {D'Alessandro, M},
   Title = {The Drunkard's Directions: Mapping Urban Space in the
             Antebellum Temperance Drama},
   Journal = {The New England Quarterly},
   Volume = {87},
   Number = {2},
   Pages = {252-291},
   Publisher = {MIT Press - Journals},
   Year = {2014},
   Month = {June},
   url = {http://dx.doi.org/10.1162/tneq_a_00369},
   Abstract = {<jats:p> William H. Smith's The Drunkard (premiering in
             1844) broke attendance records at Moses Kimball's Boston
             Museum and P. T. Barnum's American Museum in New York.
             Portraying the ills of intemperance, the melodrama also
             foregrounded thrilling scenes of local urbanity to inspire
             middle-class tourists to navigate convoluted and potentially
             dangerous city streets. </jats:p>},
   Doi = {10.1162/tneq_a_00369},
   Key = {fds327292}
}

@article{fds327294,
   Author = {D’Alessandro, M},
   Title = {The Mouth Trap: Orality and the Rabelaisian Grotesque in
             Norris’s McTeague},
   Journal = {Studies in American Naturalism},
   Volume = {9},
   Number = {1},
   Pages = {1-25},
   Publisher = {Project MUSE},
   Year = {2014},
   Month = {June},
   url = {http://dx.doi.org/10.1353/san.2014.0001},
   Doi = {10.1353/san.2014.0001},
   Key = {fds327294}
}

@article{fds327291,
   Author = {D'Alessandro, MF},
   Title = {"George Lippard's 'Theatre of Hell': Apocalyptic Melodrama
             and Working-Class Spectatorship in the Quaker
             City."},
   Journal = {The Journal of Nineteenth-Century Americanists},
   Volume = {5},
   Number = {2},
   Year = {2017},
   Key = {fds327291}
}

@article{fds350516,
   Author = {D'Alessandro, M},
   Title = {“Storms! Shipwrecks! Massacres!: Playbill Puffery and
             Other Visual Collisions in Nineteenth-Century
             America.”},
   Journal = {American Art},
   Volume = {33},
   Number = {3},
   Pages = {94-113},
   Publisher = {University of Chicago Press},
   Year = {2019},
   Key = {fds350516}
}

@article{fds373755,
   Author = {d'Alessandro, M},
   Title = {"If Actresses Ever Are Themselves": Living Pictures, Dying
             Women, and British Class Pretensions in Alcott's Behind a
             Mask},
   Journal = {ESQ: A Journal of Nineteenth-Century American Literature and
             Culture},
   Volume = {68},
   Number = {4},
   Pages = {423-461},
   Publisher = {Project MUSE},
   Year = {2022},
   url = {http://dx.doi.org/10.1353/esq.2022.0013},
   Doi = {10.1353/esq.2022.0013},
   Key = {fds373755}
}

@article{fds366560,
   Author = {D'Alessandro, M},
   Title = {At-Home Humbugs: Freaks and Fakes in the Nineteenth-Century
             Parlor Museum},
   Journal = {Theatre Survey},
   Volume = {63},
   Number = {1},
   Pages = {3-33},
   Publisher = {Cambridge University Press (CUP)},
   Year = {2022},
   Month = {January},
   url = {http://dx.doi.org/10.1017/s0040557421000557},
   Abstract = {<jats:p>In April 1885, a <jats:italic>New York
             Herald</jats:italic> journalist rushed to Madison Square
             Garden for a special reception highlighting Jo-Jo, the
             Dog-Faced Boy. A feature of P. T. Barnum's traveling show,
             Jo-Jo was confounding scientists who had requested a
             stand-alone inspection of the mysterious attraction.
             Accordingly, the reporter provided an anthropological
             description of the boy: “He stands about five feet high. .
             . . His whole body is covered by a very thick growth of
             long, tow colored hair . . . and the peculiar formation of
             his head [is] very suggestive of the Russian dachshund.”
             At first, Jo-Jo appeared docile, but as the scientists
             prodded him more and more, he started “snarling, showing
             his three canine teeth” and asked his guardian if he could
             bite the inspectors. Jo-Jo was decidedly not a dog-boy, or
             not exactly. He was, in fact, a Russian teenager suffering
             from hypertrichosis, a condition causing excessive hair
             growth all over the body, including nearly every surface
             area of the face. Barnum had signed him to perform a year
             earlier, and the boy made quite an auspicious debut.
             However, Jo-Jo was simply the latest in a long line of
             supposed hybrid species and exotic curiosities that Barnum
             had been displaying since midcentury. The famed showman
             built his name in part by presenting human creation itself
             as a continual spectrum. Barnum's attractions ranged from
             live tigers and giraffes to enigmatic simian performers to
             wax statues of America's degraded lower classes. As much of
             a draw as he became, even Jo-Jo had to share a bill with
             Tattooed Hindoo Dwarfs, Hungarian Gypsies, Buddhist Priests,
             as well as a menagerie of animals including baby elephants,
             kangaroos, lions, and twenty-foot-long “great sinewy
             serpents.” But Jo-Jo's specific appeal was tied to his
             inexplicability. Even given the closer inspection of the
             dog-faced boy, “none of the physicians present would
             hazard an opinion as to his ancestry.”</jats:p>},
   Doi = {10.1017/s0040557421000557},
   Key = {fds366560}
}

@article{fds373754,
   Author = {D’Alessandro, M},
   Title = {Dickens and Shakespeare and Longfellow, Oh My!: Staging the
             Fan Canon at the Nineteenth-Century Authors’
             Carnivals},
   Journal = {American Literary History},
   Volume = {35},
   Number = {2},
   Pages = {715-743},
   Publisher = {Oxford University Press (OUP)},
   Year = {2023},
   Month = {May},
   url = {http://dx.doi.org/10.1093/alh/ajad005},
   Abstract = {<jats:title>Abstract</jats:title> <jats:p>Beginning in the
             1870s, the short-lived fad of “Authors’ Carnivals”
             swept through American cities. At each carnival, hundreds of
             locals costumed themselves as famous literary characters,
             performing amateur theatricals and tableaux vivants based on
             their favorite books. Unexpected character combinations
             frequently appeared on the same stage. Shakespeare’s
             Falstaff stood beside Dickens’s Little Nell;
             Longfellow’s Hiawatha rubbed shoulders with Old Mother
             Goose. For attendees, these events offered peculiar thrills.
             Similar to today’s fan conventions and cosplay events,
             participants engaged their cherished texts anew through
             physical enactment. Meanwhile, spectators could witness the
             totality of their reading experiences within a single shared
             space. Amateur play suddenly brought so many literary works
             to three-dimensional life—and all at once.</jats:p>
             <jats:p>Despite their amusements, however, the carnivals
             also fell short of loftier goals. First, organizers sought
             to advance a definitive literary canon in America, but they
             only affirmed Eurocentric texts that no longer dominated the
             marketplace. Second, the events might have produced an
             innovative form of theater, yet clumsy staging and
             spectatorial disorientation stymied these efforts. Thus, the
             authors’ carnivals left behind not only a legacy of
             spectacular fandom but also one of squandered cultural
             potential.US authors’ carnivals finally demonstrate[d]
             both the possibilities and the shortcomings of the
             nineteenth-century cultural imagination. . . . [D]espite
             their estimable amusements . . . the carnivals ultimately
             proved resistant to the literary and theatrical cultures
             they intended to bolster.</jats:p>},
   Doi = {10.1093/alh/ajad005},
   Key = {fds373754}
}


%% Short Stories   
@misc{fds346258,
   Author = {D'Alessandro, M},
   Title = {Stumbling Into Utopia},
   Journal = {Duke Magazine},
   Number = {Special 2019},
   Year = {2019},
   Month = {August},
   Key = {fds346258}
}


%% Book Reviews   
@article{fds366562,
   Author = {D'Alessandro, M},
   Title = {“Creole Drama (by Juliane Braun) and Provocative Eloquence
             (by Laura Mielke)”},
   Journal = {American Literature},
   Volume = {92},
   Number = {3},
   Pages = {589-591},
   Publisher = {Duke University Press},
   Year = {2020},
   Month = {September},
   Key = {fds366562}
}