Renato Rosaldo Research Articles

Incarnadine by Mary Szybist

reviews term, not because the author wanted to explore his subject matter in a variety of genres but because he has expertise in a number of fields, and that expertise very naturally rose to the surface here. Dealing with loss is very much about memory. The Day of Shelly’s Death remembers. And it re-members , that is, it reconnects the pieces of broken, fragmented experience. In “The Ifugao Men,” we read about the moment Rosaldo is brought to where his dead wife’s body was found: “Conchita arrives // with a pale, trembling man. / He places his lips on the body’s lips, // rocks back. A fly buzzes / in then out of the body’s mouth.” This is but a taste of what is found here. In the first of the book’s two essays, “Notes on Poetry and Ethnography ,” he writes of his conviction that “The material of poetry is not so much the raw event as the traces it leaves” and “The ambition of poetry is . . . to be the event itself.” I heartily agree. And I believe Renato Rosaldo has achieved these aims magnificently. Margaret Randall Albuquerque, New Mexico Mary Szybist. Incarnadine. Minneapolis, Minnesota. Graywolf Press. 2013. isbn 9781555976354 What happens when the nonhuman confronts the human? Mary Szybist explores the possibilities by making the Annunciation scene between Mary and the angel Gabriel the central encounter that is replayed in many different forms and modernized in a number of different contexts in her delicate, haunting collection . Szybist’s style is unusual in its imaginative force she invigorates the genre of devotional poetry with an uncommonly light yet vibrant touch. Conflating the mythic and the ordinary , the carnal and the sacred, her poems consider the range of ways in which annunciative confrontations that transform the spirit and heal the soul might occur in modern life. Like Yeats’s “Leda and the Swan,” Szybist’s work portrays the kaleidoscopically shifting sense of violence, terror, eros, and confusion inherent in an encounter between the human and the divine. She attempts nothing less than the realistic portrayal of an experience that cannot be logically understood by the human mind. The vantage points and images through which the Annunciation is reimagined are strikingly diverse. In “Long after the Desert and Donkey,” Gabriel addresses Mary as if he were her vigilant shadow: “What a thing to be with you and have / no words 70 worldliteraturetoday.org Federica de Paolis The Listener Samuel Rizzardi & Simona Rizzardi, tr. Troubador In her recent novel, Federica de Paolis uses the narrative device of listening in on telephone conversations to show how an act as simple as eavesdropping can vastly affect a person’s life. Dealing with themes of boredom, resentment, curiosity, connections between people, and listening, this book possesses a stark realism that draws the reader into its world. Tõnu Õnnepalu Radio Adam Cullen, tr. Dalkey Archive Press Tõnu Õnnepalu’s dense novel explores the dichotomy of a man who has been away for a long time returning home and his doubts about where he belongs. Frequently discussing Estonian culture and landscape and comparing the Baltic nation to France, the book demonstrates a complex understanding of the human psyche. Nota Bene for it. What a thing / to be outcast like that.” Their confrontation is reenacted as a televised moment in “Annunciation Overheard from the Kitchen”: “There were faint sounds / like walnuts being dropped by crows into the street.” Yet another version evokes the central scene through the startling grid of gulls attacking a whale: “why wouldn’t such sweetness be for them? / For they outnumber her.” Another poem disarmingly conjures their meeting through the images of a rare flower, Kinkaid’s lupine, and the endangered species of blue butterfly that is irresistibly drawn to it: “If I could bind myself to this moment, to the slow / snare of its scent, / What would it matter if I became / just the flutter of page / in a text someone turns.” What these poems share including those that do not specifically focus on the Annunciation is a kind of blueprint in verse of the erotically variegated state of spiritual longing . This complex state of desire is conveyed cinematically in actions...

Transnational Encounters: Music and Performance at the U.S.-Mexico Border

Bridging various approaches to border studies, this fascinating and far-ranging collection assembled by Alejandro Madrid is solidly grounded in the aural culture particulars of the US-Mexico transnational soundscape. Music is the thing, but not without critical considerations of identity, history, gender, sexuality, and generation, among other topics. Madrid insightfully sketches the historiography of borderland studies from early treatments by Herbert Eugene Bolton to Américo Paredes’s ethnographic work at mid-century (including the invention of the term “Greater Mexico” to designate the migrant diaspora beyond political boundaries). Especially important in this was the critical identification of Mexicans as people who commonly faced Anglo discrimination and violence in the US Southwest. This approach (similarly undertaken by Carey McWilliams roughly around the same time) defined border culture in terms of social, economic, and political struggle. Subsequent treatment by Chicano scholars officially gave rise to the field of border studies — a disciplinary undertaking that both paralleled social movement efforts while simultaneously challenging the hegemony of Anglocentric approaches in history, literature, and film studies. Ten years on, further articulations on the part of Renato Rosaldo and Gloria Anzaldúa (among others in both the United States and Mexico) invoked an expanded notion of the border to focus on itinerant subjectivities. “Align[ing] . . . with some of the projects in cultural and postcolonial studies, particularly the recognition of agency among marginal, subaltern border subjects . . . the notion of hybridity became central in arguing the fluidity of border subjects to navigate in and out of cultural networks” (p. 7). Although a rich undertaking by and large, the postmodern cultural turn — according to scholars such as Pablo Vila and others — “largely avoided a multiethnic discussion of the borderlands that would include non-Mexicans, African-Americans, as well as the large variety of indigenous and ethnic communities on both sides of the border” (p. 8). Under Madrid’s editorial vision, the many musical expressions discussed in Transnational Encounters (from reggae to cumbia, from rock and roll to rap to waila to pop to nortec and beyond) reveal a number of genres less associated with the borderlands. Further, their consideration makes available a way to “explore how music allows the construction of a wide variety of networks of belonging and how different understanding[s] of the border and the borderlands are born and challenged by these forms of musical expression and their performance complexes” (p. 9).Highlights include Alejandro Madrid’s treatment of spirituals sung by the Black Seminoles in small-town Coahuila; a history of the 1960s Tijuana Sound by Josh Kun; informative discussion of Monterrey’s alternative scene by Ignacio Corona; Cathy Ragland’s biographic consideration of key norteño personality, Golden Age comedian, actor, and singer “El Piporro” (Eulalio González Ramírez); Helena Simonett’s engagement with Sonoran rap (and in one case, its curious connections to traditional Yoreme local culture); and Ramón H. Rivera-Servera’s insightful class and cultural analysis of gay dance clubs in Phoenix.Throughout the volume contributors continually confound received knowledge of the borderlands. Sure, we get the backstory that upon first glance appears somewhat refrito, but soon fresh tracks can be heard. Rather than just replaying a soundtrack of scratchy corrido and norteño hits, Luis Alvarez reveals deeply grooved social networks centered on reggae music in and between borderlands communities. Sydney Hutchinson’s creative piece “Breaking Borders/Quebrando fronteras” helps us greatly in better appreciating the cultural and political meanings of social dance. Mark C. Edberg reminds us of the complexity that is the narcocorrido genre. Donald Henriques traces the rise of “the modern mariachi” constructed through electronic means. José E. Limón tells of intergenerational tensions among Mexican-Americans in regard to Tejano music. Joan Titus’s investigation of Tohono O’odham (Southern Arizona) waila dance, music, and contemporary festival is a revelation, while Jesus A. Ramos-Kittrell’s listening to cumbia in Monterrey shows how the genre has constantly been refreshed and renewed to fit the changing times. Margaret E. Dorsey and Miguel Díaz-Barriga engage in a bit of “necro-citizenship” in chronicling the “El Veterano” conjunto festival activities of South Texas. New Mexican “manito” (fellow nuevo mexicano, from hermanito or “little brother”) musical and dance history on the part of Brenda M. Romero suggests a specific New Mexican aesthetic, while Lillian Gorman’s review of “El gringo” unpacks the seeming cultural contradiction of being “más gringo que el McDonald’s, pero mexicano en el corazón” (p. 325).In sum, Transnational Encounters delivers readers equal parts substantial information and original research in sync with insightful social and cultural analysis. True to Madrid’s synthetic vision of an integrated border studies, the essays bring the region alive. Like an outdoor music festival with multiple stages and guided cultural tour all in one, readers will want to experience each of the different offerings while simultaneously dialing up the appropriate sound samples to play along.

Terrain of Memory: A Japanese Canadian Memorial Project (review)

Reviewed by: Terrain of Memory: A Japanese Canadian Memorial Project Glenn Deer (bio) Kirsten Emiko McAllister. Terrain of Memory: A Japanese Canadian Memorial Project. UBC Press. xiv, 296. $34.95 Terrain of Memory is a powerful contribution to cultural studies and memory work, specifically focusing on the Nikkei Internment Memorial Centre (NIMC) at New Denver, British Columbia, built in 1994. A sansei – third-generation Japanese Canadian – Kirsten Emiko McAllister has written an ethically grounded exploration of the Memorial Centre which honours the community and the elders of New Denver. As she demonstrates, the NIMC is ‘a public site of mourning and remembrance that contributes to the formation and reconfiguration of contemporary communities.’ McAllister reconstructs the conflicting investments that the community, the government, and the external contractors represented in the development of the Internment Memorial, the site of ‘a struggle over the interpretation of history’ that is captured in the euphemizing of the trauma of the ‘internment’ through the previously favoured government term, ‘the evacuation.’ McAllister has had a long history of participation in the Japanese Canadian community, beginning with her work for the Japanese Canadian Citizens Association in 1989. Inspired by human rights activism and by the settlement for redress negotiated by the National Association of Japanese Canadians, she has ‘defiantly argued against “the end of the community.”’ Fundamentally grounded in the pioneering work of the Asian Canadian activist scholarship of Roy Miki, Cassandra Kobayashi, Ann Sunahara, and Audrey Kobayashi, her new book conjoins the disciplinary critique of Michel Foucault, memory studies by Annette Kuhn, the hermeneutic meta-ethnography of Renato Rosaldo, and the discursive and temporal theorizing of Bakhtin. McAllister represents the cultural studies practitioner who organically evolves a disciplinary intervention, and she dramatically articulates the fraught self-fashioning of [End Page 702] the participant observer whose research process is as much the subject of study as is the New Denver community that forms the heart of the Memorial Centre. She provides a candid and illuminating narrative of the process of transforming her academic writing self, a radical revising of her disciplinary identity and research methodologies. Employing an approach that scrutinizes with exacting honesty her moments of crisis, blockages, and breakthroughs, McAllister unfolds a scholarly activist praxis that is ethical, inventive, inimitable, and suffused with dramatic emotional struggle. She is especially conscious of distinguishing her work from ‘positivist’ historians who ‘do not critically reflect on their own investments in producing knowledge that reifies the past as facts waiting to be discovered.’ We learn that she is so self-critical of her ‘sociological gaze’ that she has anxiously petrified herself at one stage of her research. It is the elders who rescue her from this anxious immobility by cheerily initiating interviews and encouraging her to ‘get going with your project!’ Oscillating between a sense of being an outsider in New Denver and profound moments of shared emotional connection with new friends, her two successive summers of fieldwork in 1995 and 1996 permit her to accumulate a wealth of interviews, field notes, maps, photographs, documents, and new social bonds. Another blockage occurs when she returns to Ottawa with boxes of research and then diverts the built-up emotional effects of her experience into intensive martial arts training. This ‘immersion in aikido was a way to work through traumatic post-memories,’ her means of ‘searching for a narrative form, a way of moving, a rhythm with the principal of mutual engagement that could bear, while transforming, what I had experienced.’ The second chapter, ‘Mapping the Spaces of Internment,’ provides a critical reading of the placement of the Nikkei Internment Memorial Centre. Crisply reproduced photographs supplement the visually evoked tour of the streets with accompanying descriptions of retail stores, grocers, and gas stations that provide contexts for the site of the memorial. Maps are read as organizers of social memory, as guides to the visible, but also as mechanisms that can ‘threaten to drain the site of potency, to reduce the site to easily consumable evidence for the tourist.’ The penultimate sixth chapter, ‘In Memory of Others,’ presents fascinating observations on the impact of the memorial on visitors, with selective elements from McAllister’s ethnographic field notes that are critically reframed with the...

The Art of Forgetting: imperialist amnesia and public secrecy

This article explores the implications of a phenomenon that, following Renato Rosaldo's influential discussion of ‘imperialist nostalgia’, I call ‘imperialist amnesia’: the fetishistic disavowal of the legacy of European colonisation within contemporary postcolonial societies. I describe the manifestation of this amnesia in discourses as diverse as academic scholarship, international development and travel writing. Observing the recurrence of imperialist amnesia in the face of persistent attempts to historicise postcoloniality, I propose that the disavowal of colonialism functions as what Michael Taussig calls a ‘public secret’—something commonly known but not generally acknowledged—helping to efface the grim realities of the colonial enterprise. Public secrecy by its nature defies most attempts at disclosure; hence efforts to publicise colonialism's contemporary influences may paradoxically reinforce their obfuscation by perpetuating the very imperialist amnesia they seek to dispel.

Reimagining Citizenship through Bilingualism: The Migrant Bilingual Child in Helena María Viramontes’ Under the Feet of Jesus

Bringing together bilingualism and citizenship may seem a counterintuitive gesture to many given that the most prominent relationship between language and citizenship historically in the United States has been that of literacy in English as proof of citizenship. 1 It is increasingly becoming questionable, however, to what extent the monolingual approach to citizenship that distributes rights and obligations in relation to English and assumes a correspondence between one state and one language can meaningfully account for the practices of citizenship. In After Race Antonia Darder and Rodolfo Torres draw attention to how the changing demographics of the United States—most notably the increasing number of Spanish-speaking populations—have necessitated “the redefining of current ideas of citizenship” (2004, 69). 2 One productive result of such efforts to redefine citizenship is the notion of cultural citizenship, initially proposed by anthropologist Renato Rosaldo and subsequently advanced by other scholars (Rosaldo 1997, 1994; Ong 1996; Flores and Benmayor 1997). A reaction to the limits of the legal and normative idea of citizenship, cultural citizenship locates the substantial meaning of citizenship in the everyday practices of sharing space and forming and exchanging ideas. In its initial formulation by Rosaldo, it radically decentered the emphasis on state power in citizenship by relocating the substance of citizenship in the lives of those considered outside the regime of citizenship such as minority groups or immigrants. Other scholars such as Aihwa Ong have tried to view cultural citizenship as registering both the regulatory force of the legal, normative side of citizenship and the revisions to such citizenship that occur in the lived realities of the disenfranchised. According to

The Marriage of Mother and Father: Michif Influences as Expressions of Métis Intellectual Sovereignty in <em>Stories of the Road Allowance People</em>

The Marriage of Mother and FatherMichif Influences as Expressions of Métis Intellectual Sovereignty in Stories of the Road Allowance People Mareike Neuhaus (bio) In an article discussing the textualization of performance, J. Edward Chamberlin has noted with reference to the work of Renato Rosaldo and Julie Cruikshank that "we need to get back to that simple discipline of looking at (and listening to) texts, rather than always looking through or around or behind or underneath them" (86). I agree; as literary critics, we need to reexamine the question of language and language use in Indigenous literatures—for a number of reasons. Firstly, even if, as Lee Maracle (Stó:lō) has argued, language "is not the main" but "one means of expression of culture" ("Ramparts" 169; emphasis added), the way in which language is used creates meaning and implicates modes of being and thinking. Secondly, to echo what Margery Fee observed in the 1990s (31), ancestral languages and discourse conventions are far more central in Indigenous writing and storytelling than is generally assumed or acknowledged by Euroamerican academics. As Andrea Bear Nicholas (Maliseet) observes in "The Assault on Aboriginal Oral Traditions," the colonization of North America not only implied the theft of land and resources from Indigenous peoples but also involved breaking these peoples' connections to the land. Since these connections were ultimately expressed in and performed through the oral traditions, Bear Nichols writes, it is the latter that needed to be eradicated; hence the establishment of the residential and boarding school systems in Canada and the United States. There is thus, according to Bear Nicholas, a direct "correlation between the destruction of oral traditions and the colonial project [End Page 20] of dispossession" and consequently also between the destruction of the land and that of Indigenous languages (19). Indigenous mother tongues in North America have suffered immensely through colonialism; many of these languages have become extinct in the past five hundred years, and many others are threatened to become extinct in the very near future. Thus, English, French, Spanish, and Portuguese have become the first languages for most Indigenous people living in North America today.1 When, in the face of this vast linguistic loss, Craig Womack (Creek/Cherokee) argues that English is "an Indian language," this observation makes sense when seen from the point of view of parole. For, as Womack rightly points out, English is used by many Indigenous people in large parts of Canada and the United States (404). In their use of this language, however, Indigenous people have "Indigenized" English more than it has altered Indigenous ways of expression. In fact, as I will argue here, Indigenous uses of the English language mark one of the means available to Indigenous storytellers and writers to preserve and celebrate their tribe's intellectual sovereignty, a prerequisite for other kinds of sovereignty. For this purpose, I will discuss the use of language in Maria Campbell's Stories of the Road Allowance People, which—to apply Pamela Sing's description of Michif to the Métis variant of English used in this collection—is all of the following: "non-normative, anti-institutional, perhaps anti-State, interrelational and relativizing" ("Intersections"). In Stories of the Road Allowance People, Maria Campbell marries Mother (symbolizing land and grammar) and Father (symbolizing story and lexicon) to weave a narrative that reflects not only the genesis of the Métis People and their language but also the importance of "membering" as a performance of Métis peoplehood. Campbell's motivation for translating the stories of her own Métis community in northern Saskatchewan into a Michif English code may not originally have been to create and claim intellectual sovereignty. Instead, she seems to have followed mainly her feelings, her sense of community, and her ear for her people's storytelling when working on this collection. And yet, every single reading of Stories of the Road Allowance People is ultimately a "performance" of stories that create meaning and function outside [End Page 21] the norms of standard English and Euroamerican thought, and may thus be regarded as an expression of intellectual sovereignty. I believe, therefore, that the manner in which the voices of the Road...

Review

Reviewed by: Seeing Red: Anger, Sentimentality, and American Indians, and: Moving Encounters: Sympathy and the Indian Question in Antebellum Literature Renee Bergland Seeing Red: Anger, Sentimentality, and American Indians. By Cari M. Carpenter. Columbus: Ohio State University Press, 2008. xiv + 177 pp. $39.95. Moving Encounters: Sympathy and the Indian Question in Antebellum Literature. By Laura Mielke. Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 2008. xvii + 255 pp. $26.95. Scholars have long recognized that there can be a racist edge to antiracist sentiment. Nineteenth-century writers who intended to fight racism (Lydia Maria Child, for example, or Harriet Beecher Stowe) used sentimental tropes and conventions that sometimes reinforced the stereotypes or practices they intended to counter. But sentimental conventions are not all bad. During the past decades, critics including Glenn Hendler, Mary Louise Kete, Marianne Noble, Susan Ryan, Shirley Samuels, Karen Sanchez-Eppler, and Laura Wexler (to name a few) have established that understanding sentimentalism is central to understanding nineteenth-century American literary and cultural studies, in large part because race and gender were often treated sentimentally. Even so, relatively little attention has been paid to the relation of sentimentalism to Native American writings and issues. Examining the convergence of Native American nineteenth-century literature and the discourse of sentimentalism proves remarkably productive for Cari M. Carpenter and Laura Mielke in their recent books. Although the two scholars approach sentimentalism differently, both expand its definition and both implicitly reject Renato Rosaldo's notion of "imperialist nostalgia" as an oversimplification. They are well aware of the dangers of "missionary zeal" (as Carpenter styles "non-Native anger on behalf of American Indians" [137]). Nonetheless, both Carpenter and Mielke seek to recuperate sentimentalism's potential for antiracist activism—Carpenter by emphasizing anger, Mielke sympathy. In Seeing Red: Sentimentalism, Anger, and American Indians, Carpenter convincingly argues that sentimental tropes are effective vehicles for Native American women writers' anger. She contends that "sentimentality is a tactic [End Page 206] through which anger may be articulated in the defense of an indigenous nationhood" (15). Her larger point, also quite important, is that anger itself is a crucial part of sentimentalism. Seeing Red examines works by three Native American women writers: S. Alice Callahan, E. Pauline Johnson, and Sarah Winnemucca Hopkins. The book explores "how feeling is crucial to playing Indian—and female" (10). Carpenter's focus on Native American women writers at the close of the nineteenth century is praiseworthy in itself. Any book about this topic would be a winner because there is not enough scholarship about these writers. Further, Seeing Red shows why such scholarship is important—Carpenter's focus on anger, necessitated by the anger in the sentimental texts she discusses, expands the boundaries of sentimentalism. For example, in her reading of Zitkala-Sa, Carpenter points out that the tears we associate with sentimentalism do not necessarily preclude rage. In a passage that Laura Wexler has described as "anti-sentimental," Zitkala-Sa describes weeping and mashing turnips so hard that she grinds glass into them. Carpenter disagrees with the antisentimental label. Zitkala-Sa may be angry, she contends, but she is also a sentimental writer: "[T]he genre's emphasis on the power of tears remains intact" (131). Angry tears are certainly possible—and writing that calls forth angry tears of sympathy with Native Americans enables (or even forces) its readers to "see red." Carpenter's book shows that studying Native American writers enriches our understanding of American literature more broadly. Seeing red, in this case, helps us to see clearly and to gain insight into both nineteenth-century Native American politics and sentimental literature. Mielke's Moving Encounters: Sympathy and the Indian Question in Antebellum America also redefines sentimentalism, as it "reconstructs a critical middle ground between a naïve acceptance of sentimentalism and a prejudiced dismissal of all sympathy as suspect" (10). The concept of a "critical middle ground" derives in part from Richard White's description of Native/White borderlands as a "middle ground" and offers another good example of why attending to Native American studies can be so useful. Mielke's central point is that even though sentimentalism may be double-edged, its absence—which necessitates the absence of cross...

Thick Description of a Visit Home: In Tribute to Clifford Geertz

SUMMARYA journey home after my parents' deaths combined elements of pilgrimage, mortuary ritual, and ritual of reincorporation. This exercise in thick description (Clifford Geertz 1973) explores the meaning of my tragicomic adventure using Renato Rosaldo's (1989) ideas of ritual as public markers along private paths. When my personal mourning ritual could not fit into any available cultural category, I stumbled, disoriented, into a carnival world of boundary transgression, status inversion, and farce.

Talking with Renato Rosaldo

Talking with Renato Rosaldo

Teaching and Learning Guide for: The Persistent Problem of Colorism: Skin Tone, Status, and Inequality

Teaching and Learning Guide for: The Persistent Problem of Colorism: Skin Tone, Status, and Inequality

Taming the "Savagery" of Michigan's Indians

Taming the "Savagery" of Michigan's Indians by James Z. Schwartz When immigrants from New England and western New York began streaming into Michigan in the late 1820s, they voiced great alarm about the perceived barbarism and wildness of the territory's first inhabitants. Although Michigan's Native Peoples had developed complex, sophisticated cultures, Yankee-Yorkers viewed them as primitive savages who existed without ethical or spiritual boundaries, worshipped false gods, drank excessively, delighted in violence, and lived like animals. Consequendy, Yankees insisted, Native Peoples failed to achieve the technical, moral, or intellectual progress that distinguished civilized from savage societies. Michigan's French residents seemed nearly as barbaric as its Native Peoples to these Anglo settlers. In their opinion, the French had relinquished their civilized ways for savage Indian customs rather than trying to tame Indian wildness. Appalled by Native Peoples' behavior, Yankee-Yorkers sought to eradicate what they viewed as savagery and to avoid the fate that had supposedly befallen the French. To accomplish these goals, they established two types of boundaries between acceptable and unacceptable behavior: both types of restraints would help to establish order and to stabilize group identity by transplanting New England norms to the West. The first control entailed establishing formal legal boundaries, including laws to reduce Native drinking and treaties to place tribes on reservations or to force them out of Michigan. The limits that followed were informal cultural boundaries, which consisted of books and articles in local newspapers that sought to persuade Michiganians to reject the lure of Native ways. When this effort to civilize Native Peoples was at its height in the late 1820s and early 1830s, Michigan contained roughly eight thousand Native inhabitants and some thirty thousand white settlers.1 Most of the former were Algonquian speakers who belonged to one of three tribes?the Ojibwe, Potawatomi, or Odawa. They engaged in hunting, fishing, and agriculture, supplementing their income by trading furs for 1 Willis F. Dunbar and George S. May, Michigan: A History of theWolverine State (Grand Rapids, Mich.: W. B. Eerdmans, 1995), 182,195. Michigan Historical Review 34:2 (Fall 2008): 39-55 ?2008 by Central Michigan University. ISSN 0890-1686 All Rights Reserved. 40 Michigan Historical Review European manufactured goods. In addition, Michigan's Native Peoples had established what scholars describe as a borderland culture. This culture arose after the French claimed Michigan in the seventeenth century. As Native Peoples and Europeans mixed, they exchanged values, customs, and material goods, creating a hybrid or borderland culture that fused Indian and European elements into new cultural forms.2 Destroying these practices, Yankee-Yorkers believed, would enable them to preserve the purity of New England culture, instilling inMichiganians such important Yankee values as sobriety, industriousness, commitment to one's calling, and adherence to the tenets of evangelical Protestantism. In examining this "civilizing" process, which occurred primarily during the second quarter of the nineteenth century, this article seeks to bridge the literature on state formation, which in the past has focused mosdy on formal legal boundaries, and the "new western history," which concentrates on informal cultural borders. Thus, it will demonstrate the importance of multiple boundaries in both "taming" Native Peoples and establishing republican polities on the frontier. Additionally, this article joins a growing list of works that sheds light on a relatively neglected feature of borderlands?the methods that anxious elites used to destroy them.3 2Most scholars define borderlands as regions, either literal or metaphorical, located between nations, empires, or groups where the power of the center is weak. As a result, individuals are free to mix the customs, beliefs, or values of these neighboring entities to create new, hybrid cultures. For theoretical work on borders and borderlands, see Mary Douglas, Purity and Danger An Analysis of Concepts of Pollution and Taboo (New York: Routledge, 1966), 39-41; Richard White, "Social History," in The New American History, ed. Eric Foner, rev. ed. (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1997), 203-39; Fredrik Barth, ed., Ethnic Groups and Boundaries: The Sodal Organisation ofCultural Differences (London: Allen & Unwin, 1969); Michael Rosier and Tobias Wendl, eds., Frontiers and Borderlands: Anthropological Perspectives (New York: Peter Lang, 1999); Renato Rosaldo, Culture and Truth: The Remaking of Sodal...

The anthropology of globalization. A reader edited by Inda, Jonathan Xavier, and Renato Rosaldo

The anthropology of globalization. A reader edited by Inda, Jonathan Xavier, and Renato Rosaldo

To Macchu Picchu

Anthropology and HumanismVolume 31, Issue 1 p. 84-85 To Macchu Picchu Renato Rosaldo, Renato RosaldoSearch for more papers by this author Renato Rosaldo, Renato RosaldoSearch for more papers by this author First published: 31 October 2008 https://doi.org/10.1525/anhu.2006.31.1.84Citations: 3AboutPDF ToolsExport citationAdd to favoritesTrack citation ShareShare Give accessShare full text accessShare full-text accessPlease review our Terms and Conditions of Use and check box below to share full-text version of article.I have read and accept the Wiley Online Library Terms and Conditions of UseShareable LinkUse the link below to share a full-text version of this article with your friends and colleagues. Learn more.Copy URL Share a linkShare onFacebookTwitterLinkedInRedditWechat Citing Literature Volume31, Issue1June 2006Pages 84-85 RelatedInformation

Review: Enrique Lamadrid.HERMANITOS COMANCHITOS: INDO-HISPANO RITUALS OF CAPTIVITY AND REDEMPTION.Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 2003.

Reviewed by: Hermanitos Comanchitos: Indo-Hispano Rituals of Captivity and Redemption Brenda M. Romero Hermanitos Comanchitos: Indo-Hispano Rituals of Captivity and Redemption. By Enrique Lamadrid. 2003. Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press. 264 pages. ISBN: 0-8263-2877-6 (hard cover), 0-8263-2878-4 (soft cover). Hermanitos Comanchitos (literally, 'little brothers, Comanches') comes from a song that was sung in Tomé, New Mexico, inviting visiting Nuhmunuh traders to dance, once peace had been achieved between them and Hispanos. The term "Comanche" was actually a disparaging term the Utes [End Page 77] used for various Plains nations. In 1706 the Spanish adopted the term (p. 136), but over time it became a broad cultural term with references far beyond the Nuhmunuh, as Lamadrid demonstrates. In other contexts the author describes, as in the town of Bernalillo, "los Comanchitos" is a metaphor that implies a group of like-minded "Indians" on a mission to be counted among the faithful at the birth of Christ, but with a typically indigenous sense of humor they steal the Infant Christ. There is a history, a story waiting to be told in rural New Mexico, of Hispanos who persevered in honoring their indigenous traditions, in spite of the low status associated with them. Lamadrid is the first to do justice to this story. He examines the intimate dynamics of this racial and cultural hybridity in New Mexico, noting that "the military annexation of New Mexico was consolidated practically overnight, but its psychological annexation to the American imagination is still in progress" (p. xiii). Lamadrid's text deals with the complexities of a history that has not been preserved in books, but rather in visual spectacles that enact and embody deeply rooted sentiments and negotiate frustrations that words cannot adequately express. It is about people claiming a right to own a mixed heritage. The author draws on his own mixed "coyote" racial identity, as he does from cultural and literary theory and ethnography (p. 5), in attempting to find answers to the many questions he poses. The first three chapters form a prolonged discussion of intercultural conflict and various theoretical means by which the mestizaje (mixing) can be understood. The author then provides three chapters comprised of a range of case studies that show how many different relations there are between cultural self and cultural other, enacted in part through cultural mimesis. Of particular interest to students of literary folklore and ethnomusicology, the author provides complete community texts and repertoires, including music as well as textual and musical transcriptions. These are fascinating in their mixing of Pueblo and Spanish (and sometimes Kiowa) elements. The last chapter identifies the desire for peace as the underlying cultural motivation for the mimesis that has helped communities to reconcile their mixed ancestries. Lamadrid mentions also the local controversies that arose for the 1998 Nuevo México Cuarto Centenario observances, including the widely disseminated story of the removal of the right foot from the bronze statue of the colonizer Juan de Oñate by activist Indians. Among the issues he discusses is the controversial status of his findings among contemporary Native activists, who are no different than the general population in their limited understanding of the complexity of mestizaje in New Mexico. Lamadrid compares Philip Deloria's idea of "playing Indian" (referring to the "wannabe" phenomenon in Anglo American culture) with the idea of intercultural dialogue, referring to [End Page 78] Mikhail Bakhtin's concept of unconscious organic hybridity (p. 12) and to Renato Rosaldo's homogenous community (p. 13) as he attempts to legitimize his subjects. Lamadrid interviews people from various New Mexican cultural backgrounds, both Indian and Hispano, as he deciphers the ways in which Hispanos perform their mixed identities in different locations throughout the state. This project began as a "recovery project" (p. 5) of a folk drama called Los comanches, which would lead Lamadrid to conduct ethnographic and historical research and piece together many stories told by participants and community scholars. This points to one of the book's strengths, for there is a great deal of little-known regional history that is told as the work unfolds. Lamadrid occasionally relies on dated sources that speak...

Hermanitos Comanchitos: Indo-Hispano Rituals of Captivity and Redemption (review)

Reviewed by: Hermanitos Comanchitos: Indo-Hispano Rituals of Captivity and Redemption Brenda M. Romero Hermanitos Comanchitos: Indo-Hispano Rituals of Captivity and Redemption. By Enrique Lamadrid. 2003. Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press. 264 pages. ISBN: 0-8263-2877-6 (hard cover), 0-8263-2878-4 (soft cover). Hermanitos Comanchitos (literally, 'little brothers, Comanches') comes from a song that was sung in Tomé, New Mexico, inviting visiting Nuhmunuh traders to dance, once peace had been achieved between them and Hispanos. The term "Comanche" was actually a disparaging term the Utes [End Page 77] used for various Plains nations. In 1706 the Spanish adopted the term (p. 136), but over time it became a broad cultural term with references far beyond the Nuhmunuh, as Lamadrid demonstrates. In other contexts the author describes, as in the town of Bernalillo, "los Comanchitos" is a metaphor that implies a group of like-minded "Indians" on a mission to be counted among the faithful at the birth of Christ, but with a typically indigenous sense of humor they steal the Infant Christ. There is a history, a story waiting to be told in rural New Mexico, of Hispanos who persevered in honoring their indigenous traditions, in spite of the low status associated with them. Lamadrid is the first to do justice to this story. He examines the intimate dynamics of this racial and cultural hybridity in New Mexico, noting that "the military annexation of New Mexico was consolidated practically overnight, but its psychological annexation to the American imagination is still in progress" (p. xiii). Lamadrid's text deals with the complexities of a history that has not been preserved in books, but rather in visual spectacles that enact and embody deeply rooted sentiments and negotiate frustrations that words cannot adequately express. It is about people claiming a right to own a mixed heritage. The author draws on his own mixed "coyote" racial identity, as he does from cultural and literary theory and ethnography (p. 5), in attempting to find answers to the many questions he poses. The first three chapters form a prolonged discussion of intercultural conflict and various theoretical means by which the mestizaje (mixing) can be understood. The author then provides three chapters comprised of a range of case studies that show how many different relations there are between cultural self and cultural other, enacted in part through cultural mimesis. Of particular interest to students of literary folklore and ethnomusicology, the author provides complete community texts and repertoires, including music as well as textual and musical transcriptions. These are fascinating in their mixing of Pueblo and Spanish (and sometimes Kiowa) elements. The last chapter identifies the desire for peace as the underlying cultural motivation for the mimesis that has helped communities to reconcile their mixed ancestries. Lamadrid mentions also the local controversies that arose for the 1998 Nuevo México Cuarto Centenario observances, including the widely disseminated story of the removal of the right foot from the bronze statue of the colonizer Juan de Oñate by activist Indians. Among the issues he discusses is the controversial status of his findings among contemporary Native activists, who are no different than the general population in their limited understanding of the complexity of mestizaje in New Mexico. Lamadrid compares Philip Deloria's idea of "playing Indian" (referring to the "wannabe" phenomenon in Anglo American culture) with the idea of intercultural dialogue, referring to [End Page 78] Mikhail Bakhtin's concept of unconscious organic hybridity (p. 12) and to Renato Rosaldo's homogenous community (p. 13) as he attempts to legitimize his subjects. Lamadrid interviews people from various New Mexican cultural backgrounds, both Indian and Hispano, as he deciphers the ways in which Hispanos perform their mixed identities in different locations throughout the state. This project began as a "recovery project" (p. 5) of a folk drama called Los comanches, which would lead Lamadrid to conduct ethnographic and historical research and piece together many stories told by participants and community scholars. This points to one of the book's strengths, for there is a great deal of little-known regional history that is told as the work unfolds. Lamadrid occasionally relies on dated sources that speak...

Third Place

Anthropology and HumanismVolume 30, Issue 2 p. 235-236 Third Place Renato Rosaldo, Renato RosaldoSearch for more papers by this author Renato Rosaldo, Renato RosaldoSearch for more papers by this author First published: 31 October 2008 https://doi.org/10.1525/anhu.2005.30.2.235AboutPDF ToolsExport citationAdd to favoritesTrack citation ShareShare Give accessShare full text accessShare full-text accessPlease review our Terms and Conditions of Use and check box below to share full-text version of article.I have read and accept the Wiley Online Library Terms and Conditions of UseShareable LinkUse the link below to share a full-text version of this article with your friends and colleagues. Learn more.Copy URL Share a linkShare onFacebookTwitterLinked InRedditWechat No abstract is available for this article. Volume30, Issue2December 2005Pages 235-236 RelatedInformation

John Davis Wirth (1936–2002)

John Davis Wirth (1936–2002)

Book Reviews

Book reviewed in this article: Bain Attwood. Rights for Aborigines. Sarah Colley. Uncovering Australia: Archaeology, Indigenous People and the Public. Kirk Dombrowski. Against Culture: Development, Politics, and Religion in Indian Alaska. Anita Jowitt and Tess Newton Cain (eds). Passage of Change: Law, Society and Governance in the Pacific. Sinclair Dinnen with Anita Jowitt and Tess Newton Cain (eds). A Kind of Mending: Restorative Justice in the Pacific Islands. Bruce M. Knauft (ed.). Critically Modern: Alternatives, Alterities, Anthropologies. Helen Gremillion. Feeding Anorexia: Gender and Power at a Treatment Center. Jean Guiart. Et le masque sortit de la mer: Les pays anciens de Hienghène à Témala, Gomèn et Koumac. Robin Hide. Pig Husbandry in New Guinea: A Literature Review and Bibliography. William Mazzarella. Shoveling Smoke: Advertising and Globalization in Contemporary India. Louise Meintjes. Sound of Africa: Making Music Zulu in a South African Studio. Sally Merry and Donald Brenneis (eds). Law and Empire in the Pacific: Fiji and Hawaii. Peter J. M. Nas, Gerard A. Persoon and Rivke Jaffe (eds). Framing Indonesian Realities: Essays in Symbolic Anthropology in Honour of Reimer Schefold. Annemarie Mol. The Body Multiple: Ontology In Medical Practice. Sherry B. Ortner. New Jersey Dreaming: Capital, Culture and the Class of 58. Thomas C. Patterson. Marx's Ghost: Conversations with Archaeologists. Melissa Perry and Stephen Lloyd. Australian Native Title Law. Christopher Pinney and Nicolas Peterson (eds). Photography's Other Histories. Nigel Rapport. I am Dynamite: An Alternative Anthropology of Power. Renato Rosaldo (ed.). Cultural Citizenship in Island Southeast Asia: Nation and Belonging in the Hinterlands. Regina Scheyvens and Donovan Storey. Development Fieldwork: A Practical Guide. David Trigger and Gareth Griffiths (eds). Disputed Territories: Land, Culture and Identity in Settler Societies. Cecilia Van Hollen. Birth on the Threshold: Childbirth and Modernity in South India.

Book Reviews

The Australian Journal of AnthropologyVolume 16, Issue 1 p. 120-156 Book Reviews First published: 08 March 2010 https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1835-9310.2005.tb00114.xAboutPDF ToolsRequest permissionExport citationAdd to favoritesTrack citation ShareShare Give accessShare full text accessShare full-text accessPlease review our Terms and Conditions of Use and check box below to share full-text version of article.I have read and accept the Wiley Online Library Terms and Conditions of UseShareable LinkUse the link below to share a full-text version of this article with your friends and colleagues. Learn more.Copy URL Share a linkShare onFacebookTwitterLinked InRedditWechat Abstract Book reviewed in this article: Bain Attwood. Rights for Aborigines. Sarah Colley. Uncovering Australia: Archaeology, Indigenous People and the Public. Kirk Dombrowski. Against Culture: Development, Politics, and Religion in Indian Alaska. Anita Jowitt and Tess Newton Cain (eds). Passage of Change: Law, Society and Governance in the Pacific. Sinclair Dinnen with Anita Jowitt and Tess Newton Cain (eds). A Kind of Mending: Restorative Justice in the Pacific Islands. Bruce M. Knauft (ed.). Critically Modern: Alternatives, Alterities, Anthropologies. Helen Gremillion. Feeding Anorexia: Gender and Power at a Treatment Center. Jean Guiart. Et le masque sortit de la mer: Les pays anciens de Hienghène à Témala, Gomèn et Koumac. Robin Hide. Pig Husbandry in New Guinea: A Literature Review and Bibliography. William Mazzarella. Shoveling Smoke: Advertising and Globalization in Contemporary India. Louise Meintjes. Sound of Africa: Making Music Zulu in a South African Studio. Sally Merry and Donald Brenneis (eds). Law and Empire in the Pacific: Fiji and Hawaii. Peter J. M. Nas, Gerard A. Persoon and Rivke Jaffe (eds). Framing Indonesian Realities: Essays in Symbolic Anthropology in Honour of Reimer Schefold. Annemarie Mol. The Body Multiple: Ontology In Medical Practice. Sherry B. Ortner. New Jersey Dreaming: Capital, Culture and the Class of 58. Thomas C. Patterson. Marx's Ghost: Conversations with Archaeologists. Melissa Perry and Stephen Lloyd. Australian Native Title Law. Christopher Pinney and Nicolas Peterson (eds). Photography's Other Histories. Nigel Rapport. I am Dynamite: An Alternative Anthropology of Power. Renato Rosaldo (ed.). Cultural Citizenship in Island Southeast Asia: Nation and Belonging in the Hinterlands. Regina Scheyvens and Donovan Storey. Development Fieldwork: A Practical Guide. David Trigger and Gareth Griffiths (eds). Disputed Territories: Land, Culture and Identity in Settler Societies. Cecilia Van Hollen. Birth on the Threshold: Childbirth and Modernity in South India. Volume16, Issue1April 2005Pages 120-156 RelatedInformation

Cultural Citizenship in Island Southeast Asia: Nation and Belonging in the Hinterlands. Edited by Renato Rosaldo. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 2003. x, 228 pp. $24.95 (paper).

Cultural Citizenship in Island Southeast Asia: Nation and Belonging in the Hinterlands. Edited by Renato Rosaldo. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 2003. x, 228 pp. $24.95 (paper).