"These are nuanced, detailed accounts of the complex work of popular media, written by some of the finest scholars of U.S. imperial culture. The fundamental argument here—that U.S. culture has imagined America as a reluctant and moral hegemon—is compelling and more important than ever. There are excellent studies of gender, with analysis of everything from female tears in films about the war on terror to masculine toughness in video games. The accounts of violent images go far beyond the expected, looking at narratives that embrace violence-as-healing as well as those that promise healing-from-violence-done. This book should be widely read, and taught—in classes on U.S. cultural history, the United States in the world, imperialism and culture, as well as classes on race, gender, and media. A truly outstanding collection."—Melani McAlister, Professor of American Studies and International Affairs, George Washington University
"This is an exceptionally valuable and truly terrifying anthology. As a model of American Studies scholarship, its tapestry—woven of multiple genres of popular culture, contemporary U.S. foreign policy, political figures, and economic forces—reveals how profoundly and thoroughly the ethos of empire has come to shape the life and thought of twenty-first-century America."—H. Bruce Franklin, author of Crash Course: From the Good War to the Forever War
"Imperial Benevolence is a smart and compelling set of essays on how post-9/11 popular culture has enabled a disavowal of U.S. empire. These authors demonstrate with sharp insight that, when U.S. foreign policy has been at its most globally unpopular, popular culture has sold American audiences on narratives of benevolence and innocence that recast the devastating effects of U.S. imperial aggression in Iraq and Afghanistan, and on U.S. veterans, into fantasies of sniper heroes, just wars, first person shooter invulnerability, and super hero saviors."—Marita Sturken, author of Tourists of History: Memory, Kitsch, and Consumerism from Oklahoma City to Ground Zero