Reviewed by: Victorian Jamaica ed. by Tim Barringer and Wayne Modest B.W. Higman (bio) Barringer, Tim, and Wayne Modest, eds. Victorian Jamaica. Durham and London: Duke University Press, 2018, xx + 722 pp. US$34.95 paperback. ISBN 9780822360681. Also cloth and e-book. How “Victorian” was Victorian Jamaica? And how viable is this form of regnal periodization? Queen Victoria’s long reign, from 1837 to 1901, might seem enough to define an age, but historians of Jamaica generally regard 1865 as a vital watershed, and see no significant turning point at 1901. Developments within the colony, rather than imperial policy, determined the pattern of social and cultural change. Even “Victorian England” does not work perfectly, especially for the closing years of the reign, when the world had moved on, and for key elements such as architecture. It was simply a lucky accident that Victoria’s ascent to the throne coincided with the abolition of slavery, thus granting her an unearned but long-lasting folk status as benevolent liberator. The idea that the Queen was on the side of the oppressed had broader currency, but everywhere it was an illusion.1 Certainly, values and attitudes commonly termed Victorian contributed to the civilizing mission of the imperial British: ideals such as industry, respectability, social uplift and polite behaviour. However, these virtues were typically advocated with the assumption that Jamaica’s poor—though having barely escaped slavery—should be content to continue as plantation labourers, graciously accepting their lot in life. This was the essence of the “Queen’s Advice” of 1865. The common people of Jamaica were not easily persuaded. As demonstrated in two recent books by Brian L. Moore and Michele A. Johnson, the people picked and chose, rejecting much of this baggage but also accepting such elements of culture that proved functional.2 This was part of a complex process of creative conflict and accommodation—the process of hybridizing and creolizing—that had deep roots in Jamaica. Victorian Jamaica builds on this understanding by placing a firm focus on the visual and material culture of the island. It may also be seen, as the editors suggest, as an extension of recent studies of the Jamaican art of Isaac Mendes Belisario (1794–1849) and his contemporaries.3 The [End Page 228] sources analysed in Victorian Jamaica include written documents but more often artefacts, where these survive, as well as representational forms, stretching from clothing and architecture to mapping and photography. Most of the material comes from curated collections, notably the rich resources of the National Library of Jamaica and of the National Gallery. With three hundred images, Victorian Jamaica is a visual feast. Another significant coincidence is the emergence of (still, black and white) photography as a viable technology, generally dated to 1839, immediately after the crowning of Victoria and the end of slavery. Photographers quickly began to document daily life in Jamaica, as detailed by the late David Boxer, who contributed to Victorian Jamaica.4 It was a special moment in the history of photography, before movies and colour, before cameras fell into the hands of the masses. The existence of such “real” imagery, for the first time, underpins and helps define our image of the Victorian Age. Victorian Jamaica is the work of thirty writers, contributing twenty-three substantial chapters and twenty-two brief “Object Lessons”, the authors being drawn from a wide range of disciplines and backgrounds. Placed between the Introduction and the main chapters, the Object Lessons each focus on a single item, typically a piece of representational art or photography, but occasionally material artefacts such as a table or a door lock. Essentially, this attempt at “history from things” points to things other than written documents, but the examples drawn from everyday activity are few, perhaps because of the preoccupation with curated collections. The objective is to catch the attention of the reader. Many of the Object Lessons are indeed individually interesting, but being placed all together, at the beginning of the book, the effect seems random and fragmentary. They might perhaps have been more effective scattered through the book or absorbed into the text. The chapters are arranged in three parts. The first, “Making...