In Let the Good Times Roll, the women of the bar areas around the U.S. bases in Okinawa, the Philippines, and the southern part of Korea speak about their lives with remarkable candor. In gripping and poignant narratives they describe their families and childhoods, the poor rural and urban areas they come from, life and work in the bar areas, and their attitudes toward the bar owners, the American customers, and themselves. Two hundred powerful black-and-white photographs make vivid the lives, cultures, and economies that have been hidden from most Americans for so long.
War—materialized peace—are times when sexual relations take on particular meanings. A museum curator—or journalist, novelist, or political commentator—who edits out sexuality, who leaves it “on the cutting-room floor,” gives the audience a skewed and ultimately unhelpful account of just what kinds of myths, anxieties, and inequalities are involved fighting a war or sustaining a militarized form of peace. (p. 23)
This book contains not only feminist academic critiques on the US military bases in the Philippines, Southern Korea and Okinawa, it also contains the personal accounts of many women who cannot escape them. Highly recommended.
an excellent book with excellent photos. a must for students ofhistory, gender studies and the women of u.s. military facilities. also for general audience. gripping stories, sharp analysis.
The book is the basis of a college level coarse. The point of view of the authors is definitely comes from the upper middle class of America. It does not tell the whole story nor does it credit (blame) natives or women for any of the conditions brought out in the book. Are natives and women so inferior to American men they are not in any management positions of the bars? All whorehouses in history have had a "madame." The word "mamasan" is never mentioned in 343 pages. I am glad I paid six bucks for the book instead of hundreds for this bit of propoganda.