“STABILIZED, YES!” by COOL FOR YOU: a Political Message

Intimacy and Race in Late Soviet Central Asia

The novel especially the realist novel has been generally understood as a secular, disenchanted form, but the history of the Indian novel complicates this view. A seminal trajectory of realist novels situated in India, by native and non-resident writers alike, presents a perception of God in the daily that is rooted in Indian religious traditions in contradistinction to the deus absconditus European realist novel which has generally restricted itself to the secular sphere. Despite the conspicuous and consequential enchantment of the Indian novel, even postcolonial literary critics have followed in the critical tradition that takes secularism to be the precondition of the novel and dismisses instantiations of religion as mere anomaly, symptom, or overlay. I contend that the powerful realism brought to India by the British novel was immediately injected with a strong dose of enchantment drawn from the popular religious and mythopoetic imagination. The novel invited God to come down to earth to become more real and more compatible with a self-consciously secularizing India unwilling to dispense with its spiritualism; reciprocally, God's presence in the naturalist novel engendered a radically new sense of both the genre and reality. Of all the existing art forms in India, it was only the realist novel with its worldly orientation that could give shape to the profane illumination in everyday life and provide a forum for the praxis of enchantment. The Indian novel was part of a larger phenomenon in which the enchanted worldview became the grounds for independence from England whose disenchanted ethos was understood as the underpinning and justification for its imperialism. Not surprisingly, the place namely, Bengal and that birthed the novel also sparked India's anti-colonial struggle and its religious revival and reform movements. The novel in particular was seen as a privileged form for preserving a spiritualized cosmology, renovating it in some ways, and using it to enable Indian sovereignty. Straddling both the British and the Indian, the worldly and the spiritual, the novel offered a unique opportunity for cultivating a modern religious sensibility. By analyzing the various literary techniques my novelists deploy to enchant a putatively disenchanted form in a (post)colonial context, I rediscover overlooked possibilities for the novel-writ-large. The trajectory I analyze teaches us that mimetic realism can offer a more congenial home to religious enchantment than the non-mimetic experimental modes, such as magical realism, usually considered more apt. My project charts the course of what I call the enchanted realist novel tradition via five seminal novels set in India and published between 1866 and 1980. In this arc, divinity is first made immanent in the phenomenal world, then it becomes internalized, only to meet with a birfurcated fate in the mid-twentieth century. The indigenous writers continue with realist first-order rendering of the divine in the daily, whereas the more international novelists formally distance themselves from the felt enchantment of the first order they struggle to represent. Another way to view that bifurcation: as the disenchanted, statist worldview comes to prevail in the national imaginary at Independence, the enchanted novel must henceforth either restrict itself to tiny local pockets of extant enchantment; or, if the novel still has ambitions to be a national allegory, it must register disenchantment as the nearly thorough-going a priori to what now can only be called a deliberate re-enchantment.

Scholars have long recognized the transformative impact that colonialism had on Buddhist institutions, identities, thought, and practice. The period marked the rise of politicized identities linking Buddhism to anti-colonial nationalist movements alongside boisterous discussions about reforming Buddhism to its “innate” humanistic, scientific core. For many decades, histories of Buddhism under colonialism generally subscribed to a singular narrative in which colonial forces leveled such monumental changes that almost all forms of modern Buddhism were seen as derivative of ideologies introduced by Western colonial regimes. These narratives, however, only tell some of the story. Beginning in the last decades of the 20th century, scholarship has increasingly shown how Buddhists responded in a multitude of ways to colonial influence. There was resistance and collusion as well as instances where colonial systems had only minimal impact. Numerous ideas about Buddhism which for most of the 20th century were taken for granted—that the text is closer to “true” Buddhism than contemporary practice, that texts composed in “classical” languages are more authoritative than those in the vernacular, that Buddhism is not really a religion at all but more like a science of the mind or philosophy, that Buddhism is less ritualistic and more rational than other religious traditions, and so on—have their roots in the colonial encounter with Buddhism. Any student wishing to understand the place of Buddhism during the colonial period must consider the multiple trajectories and plural histories rather than singular, monolithic narratives.

Timothy Larsen and Mark Noll are to be warmly congratulated for persuading Oxford University Press to complement its five-volume Oxford History of Anglicanism with a parallel series on Protestant Dissenting Traditions. The present substantial book is the first of the series to appear, expertly edited by Timothy Larsen and Michael Ledger-Lomas, of King's College, London. Their team of twenty distinguished contributors, drawn from North America and Great Britain, cover the subject in five sections. In Part One of the volume, traditions within Britain and Ireland are considered, with chapters on Congregationalists, Baptists, Quakers, Unitarians and Presbyterians, Methodists and Holiness, and Restorationists and New Movements. In Part Two a similar approach is taken to traditions outside Britain and Ireland (mostly North America, with a concluding chapter by Joanna Cruickshank on ‘Colonial Contexts’). In Part Three, Mark Noll explores the Bible and scriptural interpretation, David Bebbington discusses theology, and Robert Ellison draws on the Lyman Beecher and other lecture series to consider preaching and sermons. In Part Four examples of Dissenting activism are surveyed, with chapters on evangelism, revivals, foreign missions, and social reform. Part Five looks at ‘Congregations and Living’, through gender (S. C. Williams); ministerial training (Michael Ledger-Lomas); and spirituality, worship, and congregational life (Densil Morgan). Each chapter has its own select bibliography, so there is no overall bibliography for the volume.Two chapters deal specifically with Methodism. In Part One, Janice Holmes traces the history of Methodism and holiness in Britain and Ireland, exploring the numerical expansion of the movement in the first half of the nineteenth century, its steady institutionalization, and the schisms that divided the Wesleyan Connexion after 1791. This chapter covers a great deal of ground, picking up such major topics as Methodist worship and piety, attitudes to politics, and the ‘new Methodism’ of the late nineteenth century, particularly associated with Hugh Price Hughes, and drawing on the recent work of Ted Royle and Kate Tiller on church attendance and of Sandy Calder on Primitive Methodism. The section on ‘Varieties of Methodism’ notes that histories of Methodism tend not to include the Calvinistic Methodists; the point that perhaps needs to be made here is that ‘Methodist’ was used generically in the eighteenth century to describe all those associated with the Evangelical Revival, whether Arminian or Calvinist, conformist or dissenting, while later histories have differentiated between the Arminian heirs of the Wesleys, Whitefield's Calvinistic successors, and evangelicals who continued to conform to the Established Church. By the early nineteenth century, relations between these groups were very strained. It might be added that Wesleyan Methodists resisted alignment with Dissent, disagreeing with its Calvinist theology, its Congregationalist ecclesiology, and its antagonism to the Church of England.The parallel chapter in Part Two, on ‘Methodists and Holiness in North America’, is contributed by Jay R. Case, who notes that the ‘dissenting’ and anti-elite approach of Methodists enabled them to grow exponentially in the early years of the Republic and thus become effectively an ‘establishment’ in the nineteenth-century United States. Professor Case deftly handles the tensions over respectability and the issues that divided the Methodist Episcopal Church in the years before the Civil War. He writes thoughtfully on black Methodists, noting that despite the greater financial resources of the MEC, it was the black-led denominations that proved most effective in reaching the black population in the South. A section on the holiness movement traces the development of independent holiness institutions, sowing the seeds of new denominations. The separate history of Methodism in Canada, where British and American streams converged, is considered briefly.As well as these two dedicated chapters, Methodists feature in some of the other sections of the book, particularly in S. C. Williams's chapter on gender, Michael Ledger-Lomas's chapter on ministerial training (though it should be noted that A. S. Peake was tutor at Hartley College, but never its principal [491]), and Densil Morgan's chapter on spirituality. Morgan's assertion that Sunday worship was ‘led, almost invariably, by the minister’ (513), although true for most Dissenting denominations, was emphatically not the case in British Methodism, where most services were led by local preachers. In addition to these references, Andrew Holmes's luminous discussion of revivals and revivalism will also be a valuable resource to historians of Methodism, while David Bebbington's mapping of the theological terrain of evangelicalism, enlightenment, and romanticism sets the intellectual and cultural context for the whole period.As a learned and concise summary of key themes in the history of the Protestant Dissenting traditions, distilling the work of established scholars and incorporating the latest research, this is a very welcome volume, and the rest of the series is awaited with eager anticipation.

The Introduction places various Asian religious responses to Darwinism in their cultural, historical, and religious contexts, in the process indicating similarities between and differences from Anglo-European, especially Christian, responses. Especially noted are three fundamental challenges to Christian traditions that also exercised the minds of Asian respondents, but from different cultural and religious perspectives. These three were (1) that the universe was merely the product of chance; (2) that natural selection/survival of the fittest negated any transcendent moral template; and (3) that humans are not unique, physically or spiritually. The essay argues that the first challenge, of a universe without transcendent purpose, is the most fundamental, underlying the other two. For instance, animal-human continuity was deeply troubling to Western traditions, including the Islamic, but was of relatively little concern to Chinese and Japanese traditions. The essay also notes several critical factors for understanding the Asian religious responses such as the colonial and imperialistic contexts, the various meanings of the term evolution, and the ancient concepts within the religious traditions that were often seen as resembling or even anticipating modern evolutionary theory. The thirteen essays in the volume cover many of the major traditions in the Middle East, South Asia, and East Asia, but the Sikh tradition is absent, in part due to the relative indifference of Sikhs to Darwinism. The Introduction provides a very brief summary of Sikh responses as seen in Sikh-authored internet blogs.

Reviewed by: Painting Indians and Building Empires in North America, 1710–1840 Rebecca M. Lush Painting Indians and Building Empires in North America, 1710–1840. By William H. Truettner. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2010. 159 pages, $39.95. William Truettner, a senior curator with the Smithsonian American Art Museum, presents a fascinating look at portraits of North American Indians by white artists from the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. The monograph’s main argument examines the changing relationship between portraits of Indians and political issues surrounding empire and imperialism. In particular, Truettner examines the shift from the “Noble Savage” painting campaign to what the author dubs the “Republican Indian”; thus, the book examines changing political and [End Page 313] imperial conditions from English colonization to the early republic. Truettner argues that “Noble Savage” paintings emphasized the sitter’s ability to navigate white and indigenous culture in a colonial context where Native allies were key to English success against other European colonizers. “Republican Indian” paintings often highlighted the incompatibility of white and Indian cultures in the early United States, eventually marking Native peoples as a vanishing race. The author situates his analysis of a wide array of paintings within the political contexts of the time period, noting the inclusion of important items of material culture such as medallions and peace medals in the creation of a genre of paintings he refers to as “portrait diplomacy” (5). In Noble Savage paintings, Truettner identifies the importance of cross-dressing where the Indian sitter wears clothes and accessories from both indigenous and European cultures and how this cross-dressing enables a fluid political affiliation for patron and sitter. Additionally, the Noble Savage painting campaign often borrows from aristocratic and classical artistic conventions and incorporates iconography that emphasizes the elite status of the Indian sitter who was treated as a diplomat or delegate of his tribe. Truettner argues that the portrait archetype of the Noble Savage, often produced during formal sittings in artists’ studios, was frequently employed in connection to the Mohawks and other tribes of the Iroquois Confederacy, due in part to the political prestige these tribes held with British colonial officials. The Republican Indian campaign includes paintings of Plains tribes (such as the Osage, Mandan, Sioux, Blackfoot, and Crow) from the first four decades of the nineteenth century when artists increasingly journeyed west to paint Indians, thus lending a more ethnographic approach. Republican Indian portraiture emphasized the sitter’s tribal affiliation and even branched out to include scenes of typical Plains Indian life such as buffalo hunts. One of the most significant contributions of the book is its linking of the British trans-Atlantic world to that of the early national period of the United States. Truettner notes how the shift from colonies to nation ushered in the need for a new perspective on Indians to accommodate the burgeoning imperialistic westward movement of white Americans. The book’s consideration of the vacillating representation of Indians as “savage” and “civil” complements the relatively recent discussion of the racialization of Natives in works from scholars across disciplines, such as historian Joyce Chaplin and literary scholar Gordon Sayre. Despite the fascinating commentary and historical context provided, there are, however, two main drawbacks to the monograph. The first is the scant attention given to representations of Native women. Truettner offers a cursory glance at a handful of fascinating portrayals of Indian women from the Republican Indian campaign and notes that these images have more in common with the Indian Princess mode. A more developed discussion of how the Indian Princess mode connects to the seemingly male-dominated categories of Noble Savage and Republican Indians would have been instructive. Furthermore, the book does not fully articulate the origins of the Noble Savage or Republican [End Page 314] Indian campaigns; situating these formalized portraits within a more detailed discussion of the widely circulated engravings and water colors of North American Indians by white artists from the sixteenth century would have helped create a more comprehensive macronarrative. Truettner discusses two key approaches to rendering Native subjects and has deftly arranged a dizzying number of reproduced portraits into a coherent narrative. Most of the included images are reproduced in full color...

The article dwells upon the evolution of music pedagogy in North America during the Colonial period. The study aims to highlight the development of music education in North America during this time and to identify the significant influences of European cultural heritage on the music pedagogy of the Indigenous peoples of North America. The authors have employed the following methods: systematization, analysis, and synthesis of historical, scientific, and pedagogical sources to generalize information on the outlined topic; historical and genetic analysis examines the impact of European notation systems and teaching methods on Indigenous traditions as well as the changes that occurred in musical practices during colonization; comparative analysis compares European and Indigenous musical traditions, particularly in the areas of vocal performance and pedagogical methods; cultural and contextual analysis addresses the social, cultural, and other conditions that accompanied music pedagogy during the Colonial period. The article provides a comprehensive analysis of how European musical practices were introduced and adapted within the colonial context, reflecting the complexities of cultural exchange and adaptation. The study focuses on transmitting European musical traditions, including instructional methods, notation systems, and musical repertoire, as they encountered the diverse cultural landscape of the American colonies. The article examines the role of music in colonial education, emphasizing its significance in religious instruction and socialization. It shows how hymns, psalms, and folk tunes were used in schools and religious settings to impart moral values and foster community cohesion. The impact of various European settlers is analyzed to reveal how their musical heritage influenced local pedagogical practices. Challenges such as geographical isolation, limited resources, and interactions with Indigenous populations are discussed to understand the adaptability of European music education practices in the colonial environment. The article also highlights the contributions of colonial educators and musicians who played a crucial role in shaping the musical education landscape. Future research prospects involve exploring contemporary educational practices in the context of historical influences and cultural changes, which will contribute to developing new approaches to music education that consider the diversity of cultural and social contexts. Key words: music pedagogy of North America, Colonial period, Indigenous peoples, European colonizers, musical traditions, cultural conflicts, assimilation, historical influence.

212 Reviews Francophone Literatures: A Literary and Linguistic Companion. By Malcolm Offord , La'ila Ibnlfassi, Nicki Hitchcott, Sam Haigh, and Rosemary Chapman . London and New York: Routledge. 2001. ix + 283pp. ?60 (pbk ?18.99). ISBN 0-415-19839-9 (pbk 0-415-19840-2). This collection of thirty extracts from key francophone novels since the 1930s? accompanied by textual commentaries?aims to provide an accessible introductory study aid. The books is divided into four major sections (respectively, North Africa, Sub-Saharan Africa and the Indian Ocean, the Caribbean, and North America), each of which contains a succinct historical and cultural overview introduced by a different specialist. The chosen, often lengthy, extracts follow on chronologically by date of composition, and have their own bibliography and literary commentary ('Text and Context') provided by the section specialist, followedby a 'Languageand Style' com? mentary provided by Malcolm Offord throughout. Offord's very detailed linguistic and stylistic analyses usefully illustrate the various methodological perspectives from which literary texts can be studied. The short introduction provides a rationale forthe exclusion of theatre and poetry (in order to focus on the novel), explains the choice of texts (based on the availability of set texts), and justifies the geographical limitations (Belgium and Switzerland are excluded) as enabling more detailed thematic analyses. The introduction provides the essential conceptual and methodological definitions for the linguistic and stylistic analyses. However, while the contributors make clear thematic comparisons between texts in their respective sections, the absence of a substantial thematic overview hinders comparisons across sections on (for example) 'space', gender power relations, and the critique of post-independence regimes. Such an overview would have made more explicit the link between culture and politics at the heart of many francophone novels. In her section on North Africa, Laila Ibnlfassi's very diverse and well-chosen range oftexts (among which Chraibi'sLe Passe simple, Nina Bouraoui'sL<2 Voyeuseinterdite, Tahar Ben Jelloun's L'Enfant de sable and La Nuit sacree) reveal the extent to which the family condenses power relations present at the level of society as a whole?a theme echoed across all sections of the book. Two texts are also included by writers of Algerian origin born in France (Azouz Begag, Mehdi Charef). Nicki Hitchcott's section on Sub-Saharan Africa and the Indian Ocean provides accessible explanations on, forexample, the colonial gaze (F. Oyono's Une vie de boy) and the epistolary novel (Miriama Ba's Une si longue lettre). There are some stylistically and linguistically challenging extracts (Ahmadou Kourouma's Les Soleils des independances and Sony Labou Tansi's La Vie et demie) that the commentaries explain very thoroughly. Sam Haigh's section on the Caribbean gives due attention to Haitian literatures (Dany Laferriere ,Jacques Roumain) as well as to those of Martinique and Guadeloupe (Patrick Chamoiseau, Maryse Conde, Daniel Maximin, Simone Schwarz-Bart, among others), particularly in relation to narratives of history, memory, and resistance in contexts where legacies of slavery and colonialism remain very present. At a textual level, the infusion of Creole is closely analysed throughout. In her section on North America, Rosemary Chapman does seek to link themes from francophone Canadian literatures to those from other, more recent, colonial contexts, notably via Antonine Maillet's Pelagie-la Charrette, which chronicles the Acadians' return to the Bay of Fundy in the 1770s after their forcible expulsion by the English. This collection succeeds in showing the development of francophone literatures from a chronological perspective and thereby constitutes a very timely addition to a growing field. University of Leeds JimHouse ...

Two distinct nursing styles fought for dominance within the nursing world in the interwar period and British Malaya provides a historical laboratory with which to study the varied goals of British and North American nursing. Where the British approach in the field relied upon the notion of “character,” the North American model favored a more techno-scientific approach emphasizing the importance of leadership. The “organic” British approach appears to contrast with that of American colonial policy and that of the American Rockefeller Foundation (RF) in the Philippines, where there was a concerted attempt to lay down a legacy and create “lighthouses” of leadership. Yet, British and North American attitudes were initially similar in two respects: training of local nurses and the feminization of the local nursing workforce. However, the focus of this chapter is the collaboration and conflict between American and British nursing styles in British Malaya in the 1920s and 1930s. The title of this chapter refers to the experience of a nurse, Elizabeth Darville, who was trained in Britain, recruited by the Overseas Nursing Association (ONA), and was inspired by further training in North America before working in Malaya where she experienced a clash of attitudes. The challenges which Darville faced reveal that “Western” nursing and medical leadership styles were not homogenous in colonial contexts. The chapter concludes by considering how lethargic British nursing was in laying down a clear legacy of leadership throughout the period of British rule.

Reviewed by: Divining the Woman of Endor: African Culture, Postcolonial Hermeneutics, and the Politics of Biblical Translation by J. Kabamba Kiboko Alinda Damsma Keywords African culture, history of magic, witchcraft, colonialism, postcolonialism, Sanga culture, Christianity, divination, divinatory magic, Basanga people, 1 Samuel 28, Central Africa, Kisanga Bible, Bible, biblical magic j. kabamba kiboko. Divining the Woman of Endor: African Culture, Postcolonial Hermeneutics, and the Politics of Biblical Translation. Library of Hebrew Bible/Old Testament Studies 644. London: Bloomsbury T&T Clark, 2017. Pp. xxxii + 288. One of the most significant biblical texts dealing with female divination is 1 Samuel 28:3–25, the story about King Saul's visit to a female necromancer in Endor. However, misconceptions about "the woman of Endor" have dominated the text's long reception history: she has often been (mis)labelled as a witch. In this monograph biblical scholar Jeanne Kabamba Kiboko, who is also a clergywoman and Bible translator, discusses these persistent misconceptions and how they were passed on to African culture through the colonial period, with far-reaching consequences for the mission church's attitude towards indigenous divinatory practices. In the prologue the reader learns more about the author's background: she was born into the Sanga (also known as Basanga) people in the Democratic Republic of the Congo. Her relatives were devout Roman Catholics but also honoured their native way of life and their ancient religious traditions, including divinatory practices, which were condemned by the church. Yet, despite the deep-rooted, negative attitude of the Roman Catholic Church toward divination, Kiboko already observed early on the striking similarities between the culture of the Hebrew Bible and the Sanga culture in which she was immersed, especially with regard to the positive use of divination. In this study the author demonstrates her thorough understanding of divination, witchcraft, and attitudes toward them from ancient times to the present day. She acquaints the reader with divinatory practices in the ancient Near East during the second and first millennia BCE, thus providing a helpful background for our understanding of 1 Samuel 28. She also examines the anti-divinatory sentiments in medieval to modern Christian Europe which the colonial missionizing agents brought with them to Africa. Within the African context, Kiboko mainly focuses on the divinatory practices of her own Basanga people. She explains how the mission church failed to distinguish witchcraft from the positive use of divination in the Basanga way of life, thus condemning all types of divination as demonic practices. [End Page 140] With her postcolonial literary investigation of 1 Samuel 28 Kiboko compellingly demonstrates not only the multicultural spiritual challenges which she had to face, but also the linguistic challenges: the vocabulary of divination used in the translations that were popular in the region, such as the French La Sainte Bible (LSG) and the Kisanga Bible, served well in the colonial context, but it no longer serves the complex situation which the church currently faces in Central Africa (where women, men, and children are still being persecuted as "witches"). For example, according to the worldview of the Basanga people, there are bad spirits, such as the mufu, an angry, haunting ghost. In the Kisanga Bible the Hebrew word Elohim, which refers to Samuel's spirit summoned by the woman of Endor, is rendered as mufu. However, due to the choice of the term mufu, with its negative connotations, this entire episode in 1 Samuel 28 is seen as demonic in the Kisanga Bible. In fact, it is Kiboko's thesis that the vocabulary of divination in this passage (and throughout the Bible) has been widely mistranslated, not only in the LSG and in the Kisanga Bible, but also in the authorized English translations and many other translations and scholarly writings. Kiboko subsequently exposes several cases of mistranslation through her word study of a number of key terms within the rich vocabulary of divination in the Hebrew Bible. Although not all of these terms are used in 1 Samuel 28, she argues that their examination is essential for understanding the inner biblical conflict surrounding acts of divination. She subsequently examines the history and social context of these terms in ancient times and demonstrates that each...

In the early modern Atlantic world, the law conditioned gendered power relations in European and colonial contexts alike. The everyday workings of legal systems yielded a vast archive of legal sources. These include statutes, treatises, petitions, legal instruments, and court, notarial, and probate records. Since emergence of women’s and gender history as vibrant fields of inquiry during the final decades of the 20th century, scholars have mined these and other complementary sources in order to interrogate women’s relationship to the law. Casting c. 1400–1815 as a distinctive period spanning from early colonial encounters to the birth of modern nation-states, these researchers emphasize that overlapping jurisdictions and legal systems shaped early modern women’s statuses and access to recourse. They have traced the ways in which the law structured women’s lives opposing ways: as an instrument of regulation and discipline, and as a source of authority for women within their households and communities. They have additionally analyzed women as legal actors, examining their uses of law and the forms of skill and strategy they demonstrated in the course of such activities. European-descended settlers and officials transported metropolitan legal systems with them to colonial contexts, and such legal systems thus functioned as an instrument of colonialism, affording greater accessibility and protections to white women than to black and indigenous women. Yet African-descended and Native women equally possessed their own understandings of law and justice, and they maneuvered within European-derived legal systems to advance their own interests. This bibliography attends to the major areas of scholarly inquiry on women and the law c. 1400–1815, many of which necessarily overlap. In keeping with recent scholarly trends in Atlantic and early American history, it does so by grouping works thematically. This organizational structure reflects the interconnectedness of the early modern Atlantic world and underscores that the history of women and the law resists straightforward narratives of declension or improvement. By inviting comparisons across regions, a thematic approach clarifies the ways in which specific imperial and local contexts shaped women’s relationship to the law. It also reveals commonalities in the patriarchal character of European-derived legal systems, and the ways in which they functioned similarly in order to create intersecting hierarchies of race, class, and gender. For specific regions, see also the separate Oxford Bibliographies articles Gender in the Caribbean, Gender in Iberian America, and Gender in North America.

I can speak five tongues--three Indian tongues, English and Spanish. I can read and write, and am a school teacher. Now I do not say this to boast, but simply to show you what can be done. --Sarah Winnemucca (qtd. in We have referred) Sarah Winnemucca, the nineteenth-century Northern Paiute translator, educator, author, and activist, lived within five languages. (1) To her, multilingualism was a source of power. (2) Nonetheless, throughout her life, the English language was brandished as a weapon by the US government and some reformers against American Indians. In response, she wielded English education and translation as twin tools of resistance, though her role as translator was perilous at times. Her Life among the Piutes: Their Wrongs and Claims (1883) contains some of the most detailed representations of translation by an American Indian in the nineteenth century. Yet the book is only part of her legacy. Hundreds of newspaper articles by or about Winnemucca from her first public appearance in 1864 to her death in 1891 provide evidence regarding her use of the English language and representations of translation. They indicate how some non-Native members of the media responded to Winnemucca's English-language skills and represented her role as a translator, thereby allowing us to better assess Winnemucca's interaction with her audiences. This essay furthers critical appreciation of the complexity of Winnemucca's representational strategies in the context of those audiences, allowing us to identify her as participating in what Lawrence Venuti refers to as an alternative genealogy of resistant translators (Translator's 40). (3) Drawing on Venuti's terminology, Winnemucca's representations of translation can be understood as foreignizing and subversive, though her representations of subversive translation differ substantially from those described by Venuti, particularly regarding assertions of untranslatability. To resist colonialism, Winnemucca created foreignizing representations of translation while also insisting on communicability across languages. Analyzing Winnemucca's representational strategies regarding translation is important in its own right; (4) however, it also prompts a reconsideration of recent literary critical interest in globalization and transnationalism, because to understand better the complexity of Winnemucca's resistance and her unsettling effect on audiences, one needs to consider her representations within the late-nineteenth-century contexts of nationalisms, US colonialism, and US imperialism. Doing so partially redresses the lack of attention given to Native American literature by many scholars of transnationalism and US imperialism. Shari M. Huhndorf notes that even major innovators in the field focus on either transnationalism and imperialism outside of North America or US-Chicano frontier relations (Mapping 17). Similarly, Philip J. Deloria argues that critical attention to globalization often focuses on a particular version of 'the transnational' that overlooks US-Indian relations. He challenges us to consider the implications of dependent nations--literally internal trans-nations--within the boundaries of (and willing to transcend the boundaries of) the United States (From Nation 371). Considering representations of Winnemucca and translation within an imperial as well as colonial context is more than a corrective gesture; it allows us to better understand the connections among nationalisms (US and American Indian), colonialism (often understood as domestic or continental), and US imperialism (typically conceptualized as outside of North America). At first glance, there appears to be little relationship between Winnemucca and US imperial efforts beyond what would become the contiguous forty-eight United States. A Northern Paiute woman born circa 1844, Winnemucca experienced one of the fastest contact histories in North America (Knack and Stewart 45). …

Johanna Drucker, The Visible Word: Experimental Typography and Modern Art (Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press, 1994), 298 pp., $35.00 hardback (hereafter VW). Johanna Drucker, The Alphabet Labyrinth. The Letters in History and Imagination (London: Thames and Hudson, 1995), 320 pp., $45.00 hardback (hereafter AL). Johanna Drucker, The Century of Artist's Books (New York City: Granary Books, 1995), 377 pp., $35.00 (hereafter CAB). Johanna Drucker, Through Light and the Alphabet (Druckwerk, 1986). Johanna Drucker, Narratology (Druckwerk, 1994). Available through Granary Books, New York. David Richards, Masks of Difference: Cultural Representations in Literature, Anthropology and Art (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994), xiii + 348 pp., £14.95 (paperback) Elizabeth A. Bohls, Women Travel Writers and the Language of Aesthetics 1716–1818 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995), x + 309 pp., £37.50 (hardback) David Armitage, Armand Himy and Quentin Skinner (eds), Milton and Republicanism (Cambridge: University of Cambridge Press, 1995), 336 pp., £30.00 (hardback). Anne McClintock, Imperial Leather: Race, Gender and Sexuality in the Colonial Context (London: Routledge, 1996), ix + 449pp. £14.99 (paperback) Nicholas Thomas, Colonialism's Culture: Anthropology, Travel and Government (London: Polity Press, 1994), ix + 238pp. £12.99 (paperback), £45.00 (hardback) Pamela Fox, Class Fictions: Shame and Resistance in the British Working‐Class Novel, 1890–1945 (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1994), viii + 241 pp., £14.95 (paperback) John Baxendale and Christopher Pawling, Narrating the Thirties. A Decade in the Making: 1930 to the Present (London: Macmillan, 1996), viii + 246 pp., £14.99 (paperback) Judy Giles and Tim Middleton (eds) Writing Englishness 1900–1950: An Introductory Sourcebook on National Identity (London: Routledge, 1995), xi + 285 pp., £13.99 (paperback) Bryan Cheyette, Constructions of ‘the Jew’ in English Literature and Society: Racial Representations, 1875–1945 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995), xiii + 301 pp., £13.95 (paperback) Linda Nochlin and Tamar Garb (eds) The Jew in the Text: Modernity and the Construction of Identity (London: Thames and Hudson, 1995), 335 pp., £18.95 (hardback) Henri‐Jean Martin, The History and Power of Writing, trans. Lydia G. Cochrane (Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press, 1994), xvi + 592pp., $18.95 (paperback) Roger Chartier, Forms and Meanings: Texts, Performances, and Audiences from Codex to Computer (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1995), viii + 132pp. $12.95 (paperback) Wendy Wall, The Imprint of Gender: Authorship and Publication in the English Renaissance (Ithaca and London: Cornell University Press, 1993), xiv + 378pp., $18.95 (paperback) Out of Everywhere: Linguistically Innovative Poetry by Women in North America and the UK, edited and introduced by Maggie O'Sullivan, with an afterword by Wendy Mulford (London: Reality Street, 1996), 253 pp., £9.00 (paperback) Fred Pfeil, White Guys: Studies in Postmodern Domination and Difference (London and New York: Verso, 1995), xxi + 269 pp., £12.95 (paperback) Marcellus Blount and George P. Cunningham (eds) Representing Black Men (London and New York: Routledge, 1996), xv + 236 pp., £12.99 (paperback)

Attending a most inspiring nursing history conference in Stuttgart, Germany, in September 2006 gave me much food for thought about the meaning of nursing history. Why raise that question, you may wonder. Are we not already writing history? Over the last decade, much nursing history scholarship of importance has appeared, seeking to explore issues of gender, class, race, religion, nation, and ethnicity in diverse and (post)colonial contexts.1 The Nursing History Review regularly publishes contributions from scholars from many different countries exploring one or more of these categories. To some extent, then, yes, we do have an nursing history. But who constitutes the we is an important question that does need more explicit consideration. About a decade ago, I was involved in an nursing history project: writing the history of the International Council of Nurses (ICN), published on the occasion of the ICN's centennial celebration in 1999.2 We called our book Nurses of All Nations, but as a group of nursing history scholars we were painfully aware that, as authors, we represented very particular subject locations. For one, we were all English speaking, albeit not necessarily speaking English as our first language. We also wrote in English. Likewise, the organization we studied had emerged as an initiative centered in western Europe and North America, reflecting the dominant cultural power relations at the time. In seeking to establish an perspective, we did not write a history of all individual national nursing organizations, but we explored professional identity and diversity in the context of larger social changes in nursing and health care. While we sought to go beyond national borders and cultural boundaries, we could do so only to a certain extent. What we call international comes with its limitations. No matter what perspective we offer, it is always situated. International nursing history involves complex issues of translation, language one of them. Making myself and my historical analyses understandable and accessible in an context may imply writing in a language that is not my own-and inherently, a culture that is not my own. Learning to write in another language opens up opportunities to learn in and about other ways of existing, but it also implies giving up some of my own history. Having to articulate my ideas in another language means that some things get lost. Some culturally embedded words or experiences are very hard to get across, just because they don't exist in the same way in the other language (and culture). The experience of expressing myself in another language is only the tip of an iceberg, floating on a much larger, stronger undercurrent of being different. As an example, the ICN, in order to be meaningful to nurses around the world, has adopted three formal languages, English, French, and Spanish, but not Mandarin, Arabic, Swahili, or German-let alone Dutch, or Frisian, my mother tongue. The choice of these three languages over others represents a particular colonial past. The choice comes with a cost: we remain understandable only in a particular way. How much of the individual experience, the individual identity of one nurse, practicing in one particular local context, can we put in perspective in nursing history? …

By the end of the nineteenth century, Dissent had gained a global presence, with churches from the Dissenting traditions scattered across the British Empire and beyond. This chapter traces the spread of Dissenting denominations during this period, through the establishment of both settler churches and indigenous Christian communities. In the settler colonies of Australia, New Zealand, and the Cape Colony, colonists formed churches that identified with and often kept formal ties with the British Dissenting denominations. The particular conditions of colonial society, especially the relatively weak place of the Church of England, meant that many of the Dissenting denominations thrived. At the same time, these conditions forced Dissenting churches to adapt and take on new characteristics unique to their colonial context. Settler churches in the Dissenting tradition were part of a society that dispossessed indigenous peoples and some members of these churches engaged in humanitarian and missionary work among indigenous communities. By the end of the century, many colonial Dissenting churches had also begun their own missionary ventures overseas. Beyond the settler colonies, Dissenting traditions spread during the nineteenth century through the efforts of missionaries, both indigenous and non-indigenous. Examples from Dissenting churches in the Pacific and southern and western Africa show how indigenous Christian communities developed their own identities, sometimes in tension with or opposition to the traditions from which they had emerged, such as Ethiopianism. Around the world, the nineteenth century saw the formation of new churches within the Dissenting traditions that would give rise, in the twentieth century, to the truly global expansion of Dissent.