Reviewed by: Continental Ambitions: Roman Catholics in North America, The Colonial Experience by Kevin Starr Laura M. Chmielewski Continental Ambitions: Roman Catholics in North America, The Colonial Experience. By Kevin Starr. San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 2016. 675 pp. $34.95. As a Catholic kid growing up in the greater Philadelphia area during the American Bicentennial Year of 1976, I felt both invested and left out. Any youth with the least spark of historical interest could find outlets for their curiosity about the achievements of 1776. But the story as told in the bicentennial year pretty much excluded any Catholic dimension, save the Quebec Act (bad!) and Philly's hometown son, Commodore Barry (a Catholic fluke in an otherwise uniformly Protestant story). So thank you, Kevin Starr, for giving readers at all levels of interest your sweeping new book, Continental Ambitions: Roman Catholics in North America, the Colonial Experience. The scope and scale of Continental Ambitions is astounding. Starr chronicles just about every conceivable instance of Catholic interaction with North America. But this massive book—all 556 pages of it, excluding notes—is far more than just a catalogue of Catholic individuals, institutions, and achievements. Throughout, Starr demonstrates that North America's Catholic past is a sweeping and expansive epic that long predates the Protestant Reformation, spanning all corners of the continent and encompassing much more diversity (and longevity) than most previous continental histories reflect. Exploring topics ranging from colonial and church policy to the life trajectories of individual Catholic or Catholicism-inflected people, Starr's work underscores the fact that North American history is as much a Catholic story as a Protestant one. Beautifully produced and lavishly illustrated in color, Continental Ambitions will excite the interest of general [End Page 81] readers and serve as an enriching resource for scholars of early American culture, politics, and faith. Kevin Starr has built an enviable scholarly career on his work on the American West (specifically California), and his comfort with this topic is evident. Given his scholarly expertise, one might expect him to start this book with the Spanish. Instead, Starr surprises us with the complicated story of nominally Catholic Norsemen of Greenland and beyond, whose experiments in New World colonization coincided with a society in religious flux. Within Norse settlements, new Christian norms of behavior rubbed up against traditional methods of achieving power and vanquishing rivals. After the disintegration of these communities and the centuries-long gap of European contact that ensued, the Spanish arrived with their own particular variant of Iberian Catholicism. It is here that the story many know takes shape, and Starr's multifaceted approach takes the reader through the development of religious institutions, colonial policies, and sometimes-peaceful, often-violent encounters with numerous native peoples. The author weaves geopolitical realities, institutional development, and individual accounts into this comprehensive study. And yet this is not a world in religiously defined geographical isolation, as Starr connects the world of Catholic North America with its Protestant neighbors. For example, Starr demonstrates the similarities and differences between native leader Popé in the southwest and Metacom in New England and their respective encounters with Old World Christians. Starr likewise provides unvarnished accounts of encounter, cooperation, and violence between Catholic Europeans and the Indians they sought to convert, trade or ally with, learn from, or fight. Despite its almost-encyclopedic coverage, Starr's book feels somewhat lacking when it comes to women. One would expect a book of this nature to embrace the gender diversity of American Catholic experience, and some notable and predictable examples such as Kateri Tekakwitha, Jeanne Mance, and the women of the Brent family are indeed present (and in the case of Mance, prominent). Yet Catholic women on the margins who were cultural travelers in complex times are harder to track down. Recent scholarly treatments of the powerful Native American culture broker Marie Rouensa and the Indian captive-cum-superior of the Ursulines of Quebec, Mére Esther Marie Joseph de l'Enfant Jesus (born Esther Wheelwright, and grandniece of Anne Hutchinson) testify to the central role such seemingly fringe colonial players had in their respective spheres of influence. The book's organization is also difficult to follow at...