Originally published thirty years ago, Critique of the Legal Order remains highly relevant for the twenty-first century. Here Richard Quinney provides a critical look at the legal order in capitalist society. Using a traditional Marxist perspective, he argues that the legal order is not intended to reduce crime and suffering, but to maintain class differences and a social order that mainly benefits the ruling class. Quinney challenges modern criminologists to examine their own positions. As "ancillary agents of power," criminologists provide (...) information that governing elites use to manipulate and control those who threaten the system. Quinney's original and thorough analysis of "crime control bureaucracies" and the class basis of such bureaucracies anticipates subsequent research and theorizing about the "crime control industry," a system that aims at social control of marginalized populations, rather than elimination of the social conditions that give rise to crime. He forcefully argues that technology applied to a "war against crime," together with academic scholarship, is used to help maintain social order to benefit a ruling class. Quinney also suggests alternatives. Anticipating the work of Noam Chomsky, he suggests we must first overcome a powerful media that provides a "general framework" that serves as the "boundary of expression." Chomsky calls this the manufacture of consent by providing necessary illusions. Quinney calls for a critical philosophy that enables us to transcend the current order and seek an egalitarian socialist order based upon true democratic principles. This core study for criminologists should interest those with a critical perspective on contemporary society. (shrink)

Each contributor to this book has used personal experience as the basis from which to frame his individual sociological perspectives. Because they have personalized their work, their accounts are real, and recognizable as having come from 'real' persons, about 'real' experiences. There are no objectively-distanced disembodied third person entities in these accounts. These writers are actual people whose stories will make you laugh, cry, think, and want to know more.

"And I have felt / A presence that disturbs me with the joy / Of elevated thoughts; a sense sublime."--William Wordsworth A Sense Sublime is a record of a life lived during the last years of the twentieth century on the northern edge of the tallgrass prairies of Illinois, where seas of flowing grasses give way to the glaciated hills of Wisconsin. With camera in hand, Richard Quinney walked the streets and byways and traveled the country roads. Quinney watched through (...) his viewfinder the rising and passing of all things, giving attention to the wonder of daily existence. He captures the transcendental landscape; land and sky powerfully meld into one. The black and white of shadow on snow explores the light and darkness we know and experience in human existence. Gothic images of weathered homes and barns of long-gone settlers and shaded cemeteries still haunt the landscape, while romantic vistas of clouds majestically drifting over magnificent prairies instill an agrarian sublimity akin to Wordsworth or Thoreau. The photographs, from the end of a century, document the passing of the seasons and the years. Quinney's photographs are historical artifacts, framed of portions of the world within his spiritual eye, the camera's viewfinder. The photos, accompanied with notes from Quinney's journals, as well as the words of others, are extensions of the long tradition of transcendental writers, romantic poets, and landscape painters. They are Quinney's own attempt to solve the mystery of human existence and a way to experience the sublime in everyday life. These were the years lived as a camera. (shrink)

Taking his cue from Emerson and the eighteenth-century naturalist Gilbert White, Richard Quinney examines the beauty of the world and ponders our place in it in Field Notes. As much as we might look to the heavens, this earth is the only world in which we move and have our being, where we may see into the nature of all things. For many naturalists, writers, and poets, the boundaries between the animate and inanimate, the living and the dead, are ambiguous (...) and arbitrary. In the moments when we grasp the essence and wonder of nature, we know that all things are in its domain, that we too are nature. Yet nature is not necessarily benevolent to our human interests. We are subject to the same forces that work in all of nature. Nature is the source of life as well as its destruction as new life is being created. With pen and camera in hand, between town and country, notes are made and a life is lived. One world at a time, here on earth. Finalist, MIPA Midwest Book Awards, Midwest Independent Publishers Association Second Place Hardcover Fiction Book, 2008 New York Book Show, Bookbinders' Guild of New York. (shrink)

This is a daybook inspired by the parable of ox herding, the search for one's true self. For a long time, writers, artists, and students of Buddhism have found spiritual guidance in the herding of the ox. This metaphorical ox herding is a guide for a year of living and observing, arriving at awareness and understanding. In _Ox Herding in Wisconsin_, Richard Quinney writes meditatively about his experiences of everyday life. In the course of the seasons of a year, he (...) carefully notes the daily news, seasonal changes in nature, family history, personal health and aging, poetry and music, and spiritual development. The observations and writings of classical and contemporary writers enrich the book, offering insights and epiphanies for the Wisconsin ox herder. Illustrated with images both found and newly created, _Ox Herding in Wisconsin_ provides sustenance for the contemplative journey close to home. (shrink)

As the decade of the 1960s drew to a close, Richard Quinney walked the streets of Manhattan with camera in hand, documenting the life of the city. For forty years, as he relocated from one place to another, the photographs he had taken in Manhattan went with him. After the events of September 11, 2001, the photographic images acquired a meaning and significance beyond anything he could have imagined. Once Upon an Island contains 175 photographs of Manhattan, including color photographs (...) of the construction of the World Trade Center and black-and-white images that capture the experience of living on the island at the end of the 1960s. Like all photographs, these offer a stark reminder of the impermanence of all things; and yet at the same time, as artifacts they create an enduring record of a different time and place. (shrink)

This retrospective of photographs spans a period of forty years. Each photograph, each act of photographing, has been an attempt to stop time, to capture what is happening in the moment, and to preserve the moment for posterity. The photographer frames the subject and gives witness to an order in the universe. But the photographer knows that, as Henri Cartier-Bresson has reminded us, nothing can really bring back the moment of things fixed in the photograph. And nothing can bring back (...) that moment in the life of the photographer. In the wisdom of Buddhism, “all things are impermanent.” Photographs are a reminder of the impermanence of all things. But what the photographer once saw and caught on film may be given another life when others see the photographs. For the photographer, the act of photographing has been an intimate part of the process of living a life. This body of work, accompanied by journal notes, is a record of what the photographer once saw, and is a window to the life once lived. (shrink)