and the creation of an ‘‘American’’ identity among the

English colonists even though in reality the classeswere not as distinct as the American elite would have

liked. During the revolution, cleanliness standardswere used to underscore both the moral and hygienic

superiority of the Americans over the British. Amer-icans used cleanliness standards to show that they were

both morally and divinely sanctioned in their fight tofree themselves from the British.

Brown argues in Section three, ‘‘TransformingBody Work,’’ that body cleanliness retained its patri-

otic associations in the revolutionary and antebellumperiod, appearing in American medical advice books as

a prerequisite for a successful democracy. In keepingwith notions of Republican motherhood, women were

to safeguard the virtue of the republic. The work ofwomen as caretakers of the body—and its associated

linen—took on patriotic and political overtones. Partof the transformation of bodywork was the changingview of certain female bodies, that under certain cir-

cumstances, mothers might be sources of refinementand cleanliness. Moreover, in the antebellum period, as

evangelical movements appeared throughout the Uni-ted States, the ‘‘daughters of Eve’’ could be redeemed

from their filth—and now were expected to protecttheir husbands, children, and their entire household

from disease and moral decay—albeit at the same time,the rise of doctors removed some of their authority to

heal. In lieu of this authority, women now bore addi-tional burden for cleanliness due to new health- andclass-driven imperatives.

Lastly, in Section four, ‘‘Crusades,’’ Brown suggests

that by the mid-nineteenth century, two views on thebody appeared in American culture: the environmental

and essentialist explanations for the filth of the poorand the enslaved. In short, a new belief about

human agency arose especially in the North during theeighteenth century that popularized the idea that allpeople could be taught to be clean. The environmental

explanation argued that the poor and the enslaved werefilthy because their environment was so—but if taught

cleanliness habits, they could rise up out of theirsqualor. This evolved as a component of new trends

in American religion. The idea that all people couldbecome clean (i.e., ‘‘clean hands and a clean heart’’)

was necessary for spiritual awakening and claimingtheir human birthright of good health and bodily

comfort. The essentialist explanation argued just the

opposite—that the filth of the poor and especially

the enslaved was an intrinsic part of who they were.This difference helped to justify their subservience

and the social position of the elite, especially in thesouth. Brown suggests that the adoption of these views

was broken down by geographic region, thereforegenerating a considerable amount of tension and high-

lighting the fissures in American culture and society.This dynamic pitted health and social reformers against

their detractors.This is a well-documented, fascinating examination

of the evolution of American culture. The book will

appeal not only to students of early America, but tothose studying American culture and society as well.

The real draw of this work is in the balance of itsapproach—it is both top down and bottom up.

—Amanda Lea Miracle

Emporia State University

Hollywood’sTennessee: TheWilliams

Films and PostwarAmericaR. Barton Palmer and William Robert Bray, University of

Texas Press, 2009.

Tennessee Williams’ impact on postwar Americancinema has been well chronicled: how he introducednew approaches to the representation of the erotic, and

how the major film versions of his plays addressedimportant issues of the late 1940s and 1950s such as the

effect of time on human destiny, the social and psy-chological contradictions of sexual desire, and the dis-

integration of family relations. What is perhaps lesswell known, however, is the torturous process in-

volved in transforming Williams’ plays into films thatsatisfied the requirements of the Production Code.

Hollywood’s Tennessee surveys all the major Williamsadaptations, from The Glass Menagerie (1950) to The

Last of the Mobile Hot-Shots (1970), focusing in par-

ticular on how the scripts were reshaped according toProduction Code Administration (PCA) recommen-

dations, as well as those of other interest groups suchas the Legion of Decency.

Palmer and Bray’s meticulous analysis shows howHollywood censorship restrictions gradually relaxed

over time. Baby Doll (1956) caused a furor on itsfirst release: the Catholic Church denounced it as an

159Book Reviews

example of a Hollywood fast becoming too tolerant

of a ‘‘corruptive, [im]moral influence’’ (146). Whendirector Elia Kazan rereleased the film as part of a

double-bill with the exploitation film Shanty Tramp

(1967), scarcely a murmur of protest was raised.

Perhaps more importantly, Hollywood’s Tennessee

also shows how Williams’ plays were reshaped ac-

cording to prevailing Hollywood story conventions.Richard Brooks’ version of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof

(1958) dramatically simplifies the stage original, pro-moting a conservative view of marriage which evenconservative Catholics would have scarcely disagreed:

‘‘Williams’s ‘provocative’ drama becomes instead anappealingly ‘naughty’ though morally unobjectionable

film’’ (174). Although incorporating controversial sub-ject matter, most Williams adaptations uphold tradi-

tional moral standards. Even A Streetcar Named

Desire (1951) tacks on an ending that shows Stanley

Kowalski (Marlon Brando) paying a price for hisviolence and betrayal.

Through a meticulous use of source material, both

published and unpublished, Palmer and Bray redefinethe notion of authorship and adaptation by showing

how the process of translating Williams to the screeninvolved a series of compromises forged between these

various interest groups, including directors, writers,producers as well as Williams himself.

Despite this, Williams proved so popular with au-diences that he became the dominant figure in what

was described as ‘‘the typical Southern film’’ (212),containing characters who are ‘‘destitute, depraved,and often ensnared in a once-proud but now bankrupt

tradition’’ (206). However, times were changing: in anage of violent cultural conflict during the 1960s,

audiences preferred the ‘‘cinema of sensation’’—forexample, Hitchcock’s Psycho—that terrified rather

than titillated. The majority of Williams’ adaptationswere rejected by an audience ‘‘that was now no longer

persuaded of either their cultural relevance or theirvalue’’ (230–31).

Exhaustively researched, lucidly written, combin-

ing production history with close textual analyses ofeach adaptation, Hollywood’s Tennessee proves a riv-

eting read.

—Laurence Raw

BaSkent University

Ankara, Turkey

Johnny Cash and the Paradoxof

American IdentityLeigh H. Edwards, Bloomington: Indiana University Press,

2009.

The outpouring of affection and enthusiasm forJohnny Cash and his work since his death in 2003spans films, TV specials, musical tributes, Web sites,

and a slew of books, primarily written by journalistsand family members, that provide insight on his life

and legend. Into the fray jumps Leigh H. Edwards, anassociate professor at Florida State University, who

does the ‘‘Man in Black’’ justice by providing contextfor his place in American cultural history. Edwards’

astute study reveals how Cash transcended the role ofsinger/musician and transformed into an iconic repre-

sentation of America itself, full of contradictions, blus-ter, and large-than-life imagery.

The primary challenge in studying Cash as a pop-

ular culture figure is the one Edwards confronts head-on: how do scholars appraise a single man who seem-

ingly personifies so many of the disparate ideas thatmake up the nation? The author masterfully addresses

these concerns by constructing an intellectual and the-oretical framework around Cash. Individual chapters

cover topics ranging from ideas regarding authenticityand masculinity to class and religion. By placing themusician within this contextual perspective, Edwards

creates a book that is unparalleled in its understandingof Cash and American cultural studies. As such, the

book will be valuable to scholars across a variety ofdisciplines, not just those interested in music history.

One of the most interesting contradictions Ed-wards analyzes is the way Cash personified and per-

formed white, Southern masculinity. Employing thesinger as a case study, she opens a new window into the

study of modern American popular culture. For ex-ample, Edwards examines Cash’s use of lyrics andperformance to create a heroic figure for these audi-

ences, yet at the same time, he also questioned howmen should negotiate manhood. Sometimes, in Cash’s

catalogue, men are required to act (even illegally) tosupport and/or protect their families. At other points,

he sings of the frustrations that prevent men from act-ing, such as urbanization or industrialization. Edwards

focuses on these themes, thus providing a nuancedportrayal of how Cash’s audience interacted with these

160 The Journal of American Culture � Volume 33, Number 2 � June 2010