The Harbor

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Macmillan, 1915 - American fiction - 385 pages
New York Harbor as scene of labor unrest at the turn of the century.
 

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The Harbor
1915, the year of publication, was a year of revolutionary ferment all over the world. Colonial peoples were sensing their rights, and industrial workers were flexing their muscle. It
appeared to many that Marx's proletarian revolution was at hand, and this book exemplifies the hope and fear of that moment. Populism, the last serious attempt at political organization by America's workers died during World War I's "Red Scare". At the time Ernest Poole wrote _The Harbor_ that untimely death was not a given. During World War I the industrial states of the world banded together to crush what appeared to the investor classes as the biggest threat to them since the French Revolution. They even declared a "time out" from World War I to defeat the greater threat, empowered working people. It took years of propaganda to erase the memory of the power working class folks held briefly and to repaint the moment as a sneak attack by Bolshevik terrorists. Poole reminds us of how close we came. It would be difficult to find a mainstream publisher that would publish this book in the 21st century; the propaganda besmirching working people, yet Poole remains to remind us.. 

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Page 393 - THE MACMILLAN COMPANY This book is a preservation photocopy. It was produced on Hammermill Laser Print natural white, a 60 # book weight acid-free archival paper which meets the requirements of ANSI/NISO Z39.48-1992 (permanence of paper) Preservation photocopying and binding by Acme Bookbinding Charlestown, Massachusetts a 1995 3 2044 024
Page 395 - Laser Print natural white, a 60 # book weight acid-free archival paper which meets the requirements of ANSI/NISO Z39.48-1992 (permanence of paper) Preservation photocopying and binding by Acme Bookbinding Charlestown, Massachusetts a 1995 3 2044 024
Page 47 - home Cheer up, Jack, fond hearts await thee, And kind welcomes everywhere; There are hands and hearts to greet thee, Kind caresses from the fair. Rolling home, rolling home, Rolling home across the sea, Rolling home to merry England, Rolling home dear land to thee.
Page 47 - HOME To Australia's fair-haired maidens We will bid our last good-bye. We are going home to England, We may never more see you. Rolling home, rolling home, Rolling home across the sea, Rolling home to merry England, Rolling home dear land to
Page 351 - the top, had now come tottering crashing down. And in its place a huge new god, whose feet stood deep in poverty and in whose head were all the dreams of all the toilers of the earth, had called to me with one deep voice, with one tremendous burning passion for the freedom of mankind.
Page 250 - singers kept pounding each other's backs or waving bottles over their heads. Two bottles smashed together and brought a still higher burst of glee. "I'm tired!" Joe shouted. "Let's get out!" I caught a glimpse of his strained, frowning face. Again it came over me in a flash, the years he had spent in holes
Page 373 - Till I get back where I was, you mean ?" "Yes, if you can," he answered. I went for a walk that afternoon to think over the proposition he'd made. "I have seen three harbors," I said to myself. "My father's harbor which is now dead, Dillon's harbor of big companies which is very much alive, and Joe
Page 391 - $1.50 In The Inside of the Cup, one of the most successful novels ever written, Mr. Churchill dealt with some of the problems surrounding modern religion. In his new book, A Far Country, he turns to another of our social ills and with even greater daring lays bare the truth. The title is taken from the Biblical quotation concerning the prodigal
Page 186 - That's what we mean nowadays by a port," he told me at the end of our talk. "A complicated industrial organ, the heart of a country's circulation, pumping in and out its millions of tons of traffic as quickly and cheaply
Page 311 - clean vigorous world. It was lighted to-night as usual, as though nothing whatever had happened. I thought of the men I had seen that day. How crassly ignorant they seemed. And yet in a few brief hours they had paralyzed all that the tower had planned, reduced it all to

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