effective — and then, once built, producenonly excuses for the continualnfailure to generate the benefits estimatednto flow from it.nThis volume. The Arkansas: AnnAmerican River, is a highly personalnview of a waterway of vital importancenalorig its 1,460 miles. It supports agriculturenand wildlife; it gives aestheticnpleasure to those who view it at RoyalnGorge and at other scenic places alongnits course; it sustains myriad forms ofnwildlife; it bears trade and commercenon it for hundreds of miles where it hasnbeen channelized and marked by thenCorps of Engineers; and it is a sourcenof recreational pleasure to boaters andnfishermen.nWilliam Mills notes all these things,nall of which are illustrated by photographsnof stunning composition,nbreathtaking color, and excellent reproductionnon enamel paper in a booknof generous dimensions (9 x 10 Vzninches). The photographs alone makenthe book worth the price.nAnd Mills writes in rhapsodic termsnabout this river, his descriptive wordsnflowing more like poetry than prosenand containing quotes from earlierntravelers such as Zebulon MontgomerynPike, John Charles Fremont, andnThomas Nuttall. He consulted thenworks of archeologists and historians,nand he met numerous local charactersnwhose stories are interesting in thenretelling.nI firmly believe that an authornshould be judged on how well henaccomplishes the goals he sets for himselfnMills’ stated goals were to travelnthe river from west to east and try ton”extend our awareness of what a nationalntreasure the Arkansas River isnand, as a result, help us to care for itnmore deeply.” He has done what henset out to do, and he has done it well.nUnfortunately he has done more,nfor this is a book filled with most of thencliches now common to the preservationist-conservationistnmentalityn— the concept that we are headed forndoom and damnation because of thentechnological and rapacious sins ofnman. In his article in the Februarynissue of Chronicles, Mills commentednabout agriculture in the Arkansas RivernValley: “Farming the grasslands willnhave to be rethought as an art, rathernthan as running a factory.” So also hentells us in this volume.n36/GHRONICLESnShould the day of the preservationistsnand the environmentalists arrivenwhen everything is done “naturally,”nI hope Mr. Mills is here to tell notnonly starving Americans but thosenaround the worid whom the farmfactoriesnof the Midwest now feed whynthey should be grateful because thenland and water are being “respected.”nIn his article in Chronicles, he wrote,n”Nowadays nature is something tonpush against, to move around, get outnof the way, get on top of” For this wencan be thankful each time .we sit downnto a good meal.nI have additional problems withnMills. In that portion of the booknwhere his journey on the Arkansasntakes him to Muskogee, Oklahoma, hennotes that one of his reasons for stoppingnthere is the art of Jerome Tiger.”nTiger was a tragic young man whonkilled himself while in his 20’s, leavingnbehind art of unquestioned value. Butnone need not go to Muskogee to see it.nIt is widely displayed in museums, andnthe University of Oklahoma Press did anmagnificent book filled with Tiger’snart. Moreover, there are other Indiannartists of great skill living in proximitynto the Arkansas who could have beennpraised rather than Tiger.nMills takes the patronizing view thatnall Native Americans respected naturenand lived in harmony with it, as whennhe describes an Osage dance. “Observingnthe dancers dressed in the old waynbeing watched by other Osage dressednlike any contemporary Oklahoman isnan image of tension,” he writes. Thennhe editorializes, “The river reflects thensame tension between a time when itnwent its own way, the old way, and thenpresent, with our current attempts tonmanage it, to dam it. The new god,n’technology,’ is in full sway.”nHe makes it obvious to any readernthat the old way is better, but in casenany of us misses the point he adds,n”Like many others who consider suchnmatters, though, I am uncertain aboutnthe new god of ‘technology’ or, morenprecisely, Man as the new god, withntechnology his very powerful slave.nWith this slave we have poisoned thenriver and even dried it up in places.”nStill afraid his reader may not get it.nMills drives it home in a three-wordnnon-sentence, “Rather poor gods.”nThe Indians were as human as thenrest of us, defiling nature to the extentnnnof their technology. When they rannbuffalo over a cliff to get meat, they didnnot turn the herd and stop the slaughternwhen they had enough for thentribe’s needs. And archeologists dig inntheir trash dumps. To say the Indiansnrespected nature, because they did notndam the river or dump industrial wastenin it, is like saying they also – werenpro-life because they did not havenabortion clinics or that they were antinuclearnbecause they did not use atomicngenerating plants to make electricity.nMills has a masterful pen, and hisnphotographs are works of art. Unfortunately,nas he traveled down the Arkansas,nhe was too much like SamuelnTaylor Coleridge’s ancient marinernwho.nLike one that on anlonesome roadnDoth walk in fear and dread.nAnd having once turned round,nwalks on.nAnd turns no more his head;nBecause he knows anfrightfijl fiendnDoth close behind him tread.nIn this case Mills’ frightfijl fiend isnmodern civilization, which has producedna standard of living that enablesnsociety to support those who would benartist/poet/philosopher/photographer rathernthan hunter/gatherer.nOdie B. Faulk is an emeritus professornat Northeastern State University innOklahoma.nThe Streetwalker’snStorynby Bryce ChristensennWomen and Prostitution:nA Social Historynby Vem Bullough andnBonnie BulloughnBuffalo: Prometheus Books,n374 pp., $17.95nProstitution may not deserve its reputationnas the world’s oldest profession,nbut it has been around for millennia,nappearing in virtually every society.nIn this revised edition of a book originallynpublished in 1978 (under a slightlyndifferent title), Vem Bullough and Bon-n