This volume, derived from a conference held at the University of Pittsburgh in 1998, sets itself the ambitious task of advancing new models “not only for reading, but also resolving the ubiquitous interlacing legacies of capital, coloniality, and race” in Latin America (pp. 5 – 6). Individual chapters offer an array of insights into these legacies in Uruguay, Haiti, Puerto Rico, Brazil, Mexico, Bolivia, Colombia, Ecuador, and the French Antilles, even if, not surprisingly, they are only partially successful in actually resolving the problems provoked by colonialism. As this list of countries indicates, the volume is unusually broad in its geographic scope; the authors are to be congratulated in extending their scholarly focus beyond the familiar territory of Mexico and Peru.Individual chapters take varying approaches to the aim of reading and resolving colonial legacies. Gustavo Verdesio comments on the Uruguayan state’s alternate attempts to erase and exalt the country’s indigenous heritage. Carolle Charles examines the relative importance of the concepts of race and class within Haitian political discourse from the Haitian Revolution to the early twenty-first century. Kelvin Santiago-Valles offers a critical reexamination of negrista poetry, which he argues helped resolve “colonized blanchitude’s crisis of representation” (p. 60). Gislene Aparecida dos Santos studies the attitudes of Brazilian high school students toward affirmative action to explore the extent to which victims of discrimination often fail to identify themselves as such. Her study also offers clear examples of the slippery nature of racial categories in contemporary Brazil, for the students that she interviews often expressed considerable vagueness about how one actually determined anyone’s race. José Rabasa’s chapter juxtaposes contemporary Zapatismo with early colonial maps of Cholula, in order to propose that in some cases the experience of colonialism produced not mestizaje or even a sense of double consciousness but rather individuals able to inhabit plural worlds. Denise Y. Arnold offers a detailed analysis of the governmental challenges associated with implementing the social visions encoded in a set of departmental maps designed in late twentieth- and early twenty-first-century Bolivia. Marcia Stephenson charts the controversies stirred up by the writings of Bolivian gadfly Fausto Reinaga, whose work, she argues, “simultaneously reveal how colonialism works both implicitly and explicitly to eradicate any and all manifestations of indigenous identity, and . . . documents the painful battle to affirm indigenous subjectivity” (p. 205). Laurence Prescott introduces the writings of the Afro-Colombian writer Manuel Zapata Olivella, and Michael Handelsman undertakes a somewhat similar exercise for the Ecuadorian journalist Juan Montaño Escobar, whom he sees as embracing “strategic essentialism.” Finally, H. Adlai Murdoch examines the visions of creole identity expressed in the writings of several contemporary Antillean poets and essayists.These individual chapters share a number of overlapping themes. Nearly a third explore the tensions inherent within nationalist visions based on rhetorics of racial democracy, and all reveal an interest in examining recent history through the lens of colonial inequalities, although, with the exception of Rabasa’s chapter, none offers much detailed examination of colonial history itself. As an interdisciplinary exercise the volume is, like so many such ventures, only partially successful. Individual chapters do not so much transcend their author’s disciplinary boundaries as rub shoulders with other chapters based on different methodological frameworks. The introduction, which might have guided the reader through the common themes that unite the chapters, or, more ambitiously, probed the extent to which the contributors share compatible visions of coloniality, instead concentrates on the interesting topic of interactions between people of African and indigenous heritage in the colonial era. Sadly, the introduction’s attractive promise of consistent attention to issues of Afro-indigenous collaboration is left largely unfulfilled in the remainder of the volume. Nor is this book well suited for undergraduate use, unless you are confident that your students can decipher terms such as “solidarian” (p. 3), “petit-coloniality” (p. 58), “Africoid” (p. 69), and “proparoxytonical” (p. 250), and are familiar with the Gramscian concept of immanent history and the Jamesonian ideologeme. This is a book aimed at postgraduate readers interested in the continuing impact of the long history of racial (and class) inequalities on contemporary Latin America. Such readers will find much of interest.