See the whole of American Studies Today 2006 as an Adobe
Transcription
See the whole of American Studies Today 2006 as an Adobe
Issue 15 September 2006 The Vietnam War and Civil Rights 2 In this year’s issue is the official journal of the American Studies Resources Centre, The Aldham Robarts Centre, Liverpool John Moores University, Mount Pleasant Liverpool L3 5UZ Tel & fax: 0151-231 3241 e-mail: [email protected] web site: www.americansc.org.uk 3 The Memin Penguin Controversy News and events 25 Dr Ezekiel Mobley examines the impact of the furore over a set of offensive postage stamps issued in Mexico on Black-HispanicAmerican Relationships in the States Helen Tamburro r e por t s on a landmark visit Editor-in-Chief: Ian Ralston Editor: David Forster 27 Editorial assistant: Helen Tamburro 11 © 2006, Liverpool John Moores University and the Contributors. America’s “Great Satan” in Action and War Films The journal is published with the aid of financial assistance from the United States Embassy. Please email us at 16 [email protected] with The Vietnam War and the Civil Rights movement any changes of name or address. If you do not wish to continue receiving this magazine, please send an e-mail with the word Unsubscribe and your subscription number in the subject line. Brendan Gallagher considers how the two events are inextricably bound up Photo credits 21 Ezekiel Mobley pp 3 -10 American History Slide Collection: Cover and page 23 Lenny Quart pp 2 & 21 Helen Tamburro pp 24 & 25 Jeanne-Marie Kenny pp 26 & 44 Ralph Donald pp 2 & 11 Ian Ralston pp 2 & 28 Photo of US Ambassador on p 28 courtesy of US Embassy 28 Ralph Donald looks at the changing stereotypes of America’s enemies in movies from WorldWar 2 to the “war on terror”. Articles in this journal may be freely reproduced for use in subscribing institutions only, provided that the source is acknowledged. Letters from New York More dispatches from the Big Apple by Lenny Quart Altman’s Oscar Night The New York Post Public Life We stopped at Perfect Days Jeanne-Marie Kenny holds an exhibition in Liverpool Layout and graphics: David Forster The views expressed are those of the contributors, and not necessarily those of the centre or the university. Ezekiel launches Pittsburgh link with Liverpool students BAAS Teachers and Schools Awards 2006 Book Reviews 29 Literature 32 Culture 37 History 40 Politics 40 Race 42 Gender Studies 43 Textbooks 3 Relations between Hispanic and African Americans in the U.S. today seen through the prism of the "Memin Pinguin" Controversy According to the 2000 Census, Hispanics have now exceeded AfricanAmericans as the largest ethnic minority group in the United States. The recent Memin Pinguin controversy, in which the Mexican post office issued stamps featuring a racial caricature of an AfroMexican, highlighted the fact that the Hispanic community is itself racially diverse, and that AfroMexicans have been an invisible and underprivileged community. In this lecture, delivered at the Liverpool John Moores University in March this year, Dr. Ezekiel Mobley argues that African Americans should become aware of their Latin cousins, and that the controversy also has lessons which Britain could learn. W e’ve all grown accustomed to thinking of African Americans as the most significant ethnic minority population in the United States, in terms of sheer numbers, cultural impact and political strength. African Americans, themselves, have become accustomed to this same kind of thinking. So, when we think of issues of race in the United States, we tend—primarily through inertia, I would maintain—to define these solely in terms of “black and white.” We have invested so The author in Yanga equal, and in fact have exceeded, African Americans as the largest ethnic minority group in the U.S., constituting some 40 million people, which is at least 13% of the American population. And, unlike that percentage of the American population that derives its descent from Africa, the Latino population continues to grow very rapidly through immigration, at present primarily through illegal immigration, but also potentially through legal “guest worker” programs. A recent study by The Pew Chari- The series of Mexican postage stamps which ignited the controversy much in how we have defined ourselves over the past 200 years to the point where we have ignored, or didn’t fully absorb, the “brown” relationship. That must change now. The issue of race in the United States is far more complex than “black and white.” According to the year 2000 Census count in the United States, Latinos now table Trust estimates some 12 million Latinos are now residing in the U.S. illegally, and it is again estimated that those numbers will increase by 850,000 each year. When we “do the math,” then, we would estimate there are currently more than 40 million Latinos residing in the US, but how much more nobody actually knows. 4 Large flows of legal and illegal immigrants from Mexico and Central America have very farreaching implications for U.S. national economic and security policy. U.S. media reports and possible legislative initiatives from the Bush administration bear out the sheer urgency of the immigration crisis. But, my this now, intellectually and emotionally. African Americans, especially, must accept this fact in a definitive way. Furthermore African Americans and Latino Americans occupy the same urban space in the United States and, as such, will be in competition for, at first, the Afro-Mexicans in Yanga discussion will mainly serve to highlight this immigration impact on African Americans and their displacement as the number one ethnic group in the U.S., and the repercussions therefrom. The changing fabric of American racial Landscape the Now, to understand the fabric of the changing American racial landscape, you must, and I say emphatically must, have a fuller comprehension of the Latino factor. It will take years of reeducation among African Americans in the U.S., and likewise years in the United Kingdom, along the lines of a wholly new cultural awareness in order to fully grasp this phenomenon. The rapid expansion of the Latino population, alone, has profound implications for people living in the western hemisphere: Spanish is the number one language in the western hemisphere. We must deal with lowest level jobs and the lesser public offices. And, while Latino Americans are lagging behind African Americans in a number of areas, especially education, they have one advantage within their common urban space: they uniformly speak Spanish and maintain close family ties. As a result of all this, there will be some real crises in the next few years and it will take creative approaches to find synergies between these two minority groups in the US population landscape. The Memin Pinguin Controversy I will begin with an examination of the now media famous (or infamous) “Memin Pinguin” controversy in Mexico and the U.S. “Memin Pinguin” is perhaps a metaphor for understanding many issues symbolic of the African American and Latino American relationship in the US. The Memin Pingiun contro- versy has released a set of issues that have galvanized the attention of the African American population at a time when the immigration issue is at the forefront of the American media and the halls of Congress. U.S. Senator Hillary Clinton (D-NY), for example, highlighted the immigration controversy recently by suggesting that if Jesus Christ were alive today, he would be caught in the net as an “illegal” immigrant. Last July, I reported on the famous "Memin Penguin" cartoon character in The African Times newspaper (see Mobley 2005). The Memin Pinguin comic books have been a broad staple of many Mexican households for the last 60 years. In 2005, the government of Mexican President Vicente Fox issued a new federal postage stamp commemorating the likeness of Memin Pinguin. This commemorative stamp was interpreted by African American religious leaders Jessie Jackson and Al Sharpton as a direct slap in the face to African Americans, and a subsequent and very public controversy ensued. Jackson and Sharpton pointed out the physical similarities of Memin Pinguin to certain racially stereotypical U.S. radio and television characters of the 1930s through 1960s, such as the infamous “Amos n' Andy” comic duet. These personalities and others like them were much more often than not perceived as derisive and ridiculing of African Americans and, furthermore, supporting, exhorting, of white racial supremacy. “Comedy masks tragedy,” the Rev. Jesse Jackson said at a meeting of civil rights leaders in Little Rock, Arkansas. “In this instance, it’s comedy with a demeaning punch line and we hope that President Fox will take it off the market.” “Black Mexicans: Forgotten Africans?” pointed out that the Memin Pinguin debate in Mexico and the U.S. was merely a harbinger of things to come. For example, it had unintentionally opened a “Pandora’s Box,” re- 5 vealing the plight of AfroMexicans who now populate the Mexican states of Coahuila, Veracruz, Guerrero and Oaxaca. You see, Afro-Mexicans have a long history, which is in much need of detailed and public examination. For instance, not many are even aware of the African element in the population of Mexico, let alone that it was in 1608, when a west African known as Gaspar Yanga led a significant slave rebellion in Veracruz, Mexico, that created the first “free” African town in the Americas. And, two of the four black heroes of the Mexican War of Independence from Spain (1810-1821)—Vicente Guerrero and Jose Maria Morelos—had Mexican states named for them. Afro-Mexicans: people the forgotten The story of Mexico’s failure to credit and acknowledge its AfroMestizo history is painful, given what else has happened politically and socially since the early 1990s. For example, in Chiapas, the southernmost state of Mexico bordering Guatemala, a rebel indigenous movement took up arms and threatened to overthrow oligarchic landowners to relieve the burden of generations of near-feudal rule. The rebels have successfully petitioned for increased federal government attention to land reform, education and health needs. And, the current president, Vicente Fox, was freely elected from an opposition party, which had not happened in Mexico for over 70 years. Blacks have been officially “invisible” in Mexico because until recently the federal government did not recognize them in census counts. This was tolerated over the centuries by the policy of mestizaje or “cosmic mixture” of exclusively Spanish (Europeans) and indigenous (Indian) peoples. This policy was perpetuated by a mythology that neatly fit with the ideology of the early 16th century conquests by Hernan Cortes, a representative of the Spanish crown, who subdued the Aztec emperor Montezuma II, pre-colonial ruler of most of Mexico and Central America. Afro-Mexicans therefore, until recently, had no official recognition and it was consequently easy to dismiss them. However, due to the emergence of the recent “third root” movement, that is increasingly difficult to do. In that regard, some institutions like the University of Veracruz presently sponsor academic courses that emphasize the African impact and history. But, this divergence is still rare. In modern Mexico, the so-called “Third Root” movement is headed by Afro-Mexicans and is dedicated to recognizing and improving the civic, social and economic conditions of this much-neglected group. Mexican blacks have had a significant history not well recognized by towns near border crossings between Texas and Mexico’s Coahuila state. She is the cocurator of a significant museum exhibition in Chicago, Illinois, that boldly spells out the AfroMexican contribution to modern history. “It’s the most important thing we’ve ever done,” said Mexican Fine Arts Museum in Chicago president Carlos Tortolero. “‘The African Presence in Mexico’ tells a virtually unknown and still-unfolding story.” Mexican filmmakers such as Rafael Rebollar are receiving recognition for their documentary work illustrating “La Raiz Olvidar” (The Forgotten Ones) and “Los Moscogos.” The latter film concerns so-called “Black Seminoles,” a mixed-race people of Native American and African slave heritage, who were forced into submission by American general, later President Andrew Jackson, and ultimately were forced to abandon Yanga mural in Penguela the government and media. But some groups of Afro-Mexicans have started to speak out. Mexican scholars such as Sagrario Cruz-Carretaro, at the University of Veracruz, bring attention to Afro-Mexicans and have made studies of Yanga and the black their traditional lands in the states of Georgia and Florida for a life of neglect in Oklahoma and Texas in the 1840’s. Descendants of these same people later gained distinction from the U.S. Army as scouts, who won four Medals of Honour for military 6 campaigns against the Apache and Comanche nations in the south-western United States. Intellectuals like Cruz-Carretaro and Rebollar have, in their respective fields, started to organize and demand a strong public acknowledgement of the role of Afro-Mexicans in shaping Mex- Yanga crest ico’s national character. Although the percentages were low, the population of enslaved Africans in Mexico had a huge presence in colonial Mexico (1521-1810) working as domestic servants, day labourers, cattle ranchers, artisans and miners on haciendas (large plantation estates). You see, there was, and to a wide extent currently is, outright denial about a tangible African bloodline running through Mexico's population. I recall quite clearly more than a decade ago, listening to a television interview with an official of the Mexican government. The official was describing the ethnic makeup of the Mexican population, and nowhere did she mention any African population element in the entire country. This “racial amnesia,” as it has been termed, officially exists despite the fact that some 200,000 Africans were brought to Mexico during the early years of the slave trade. In fact, historians estimate that the African population of Mexico constituted around a halfmillion persons by 1810. And would it surprise you to know that Vincente Guerrero, a leading general of the Mexican War of Independence and the new nation’s second president, appears to have been of African descent. And, finally, photographs of the great revolutionary hero Emiliano Zapata show clearly that he was of African descent. Even modernday rebels from Mexico’s souther n Chi apas state proudly called themselves “zapatistas” during the 1990s. Dating to the years immediately following the beginning of the Mexican Revolution in 1910, official national ideology defined the Mexican population as a unified one, created out of the mixture of Spanish and indigenous population—mestizo. The African element was completely and unambiguously excluded. In fact, since 1928, Mexico has celebrated October 12 as "The Day of the Race" and this singular Spanish-Indian mix denies the African-descended population. In that early era, even Mexican public commentators, media officials and university scholars were in total denial of the African contribution to Mexican his- tory. The Third Root The "Third Root" movement— deriving its name from this third and African population element-is now bringing a sea change to that mind-set of race denial in Mexico. In 1992, the Mexican government finally acknowledged Africa to be Mexico's "Third Root" but, securing a wholesale list of democratic reforms, employment opportunities, adequate housing, minimal education and health care for Afro-Mexicans will take a long time and much public pressure. And, the political will to accomplish something dramatic is needed as well. Afro-Mexican population centres in the Costa Chica area (in Guerrero and Oaxaca), Veracruz and Coahuila maintain very strong cultural examples of racial heritage through song, dance and other art forms. These people often endure in isolated, but unmistakably “African” communities. In the state of Veracruz, for example, you can find towns named Mandinga, Matamba and Mozambique, which clearly denote the historical African presence in Mexico. When the Pinguin controversy started to gather steam in the U.S. media in 2005, Bush White House insiders conveniently seized the moment to join with African American leaders in denouncing Mexico's President Fox. Many conservative U.S. policy-makers were thoroughly annoyed at Fox’s pro-Mexican immigration announcements and opposing construction of hundreds of miles of “barbedwire fence” between Mexico and the U.S. Of course, these announcements further encouraged conservative groups in the U.S., who were already reeling from the daily headlines Mexican “illegal” immigration. Who is Memin Pinguin? Well, who is “Memin Pinguin,” the comic book character, and why does he figure so prominently in understanding the 7 Mexican psyche today? Obviously, the look, feel and characterization of Memin Pinguin ridicule African and African American individuals. In fact, Memin Pinguin does not even look reasonably human like the other, white, characters in the comic books. The dialogue of many “Memin Pinguin” comic books portrays the character as a very meek, gentle and well-meaning character (not a real person) that you would hardly give any responsibility. He is often dimwitted. His look is radically different, e.g. simian or animal like, from the other characters. In fact, until you actually see Memin Pinguin himself, in the comic books, you can hardly believe your eyes. Why is this the case and why was the character perpetuated for so many years? Why does an image like this exist in 2006? Why did the Memin Pinguin character become prominent enough to be placed on a federal stamp of the Mexican republic? What was the controversy really about? "Memin Pinguin," substantively and symbolically, is one of the principal "next steps” a comprehensive understanding of Latino-African American relations. There are several important reasons for this. For decades, African Americans held a centre stage position in the neverending civil rights debate. The legacy of legal slavery until 1863 and legal discrimination until the 1960s in the United States, was so pervasive and fundamentally important to American social history, that to consider it any other way was, and continues to be, often publicly ridiculed. But, frankly we knew very little of “Memin Pinguin” beforehand because Americans are not serious students of our neighbours to the south, in matters of culture, society and habits. That is apparently one main reason why we were so shocked by the stamp issued last year which bore the likeness of Memin Pinguin. Most of us had never seen Memin Pinguin before last year. Our American recollections of Mexican life and culture were until recently mainly influenced by media images of characters like “Speedy Gonzales” and the “Taco Bell” Chihuahua dog, not “Memin Pinguin.” On average, Americans really do not mix socially with Mexicans on their vacations, preferring instead to enjoy themselves frolicking on the clean beaches of Acapulco and Cancun. We don’t really understand how necessary and easy it was for Mexican society to create, maintain and flourish with “Memin Pinguin” in acceptable fashion. This image was perpetuated by notions of a mestizo (mixed race EuroIndian society), wholly absent of considerations of race and class as they historically existed in the United States. In other words, “Memin Pinguin” in comic book version could flourish for many years without social criticism from Mexicans—even as AfroMexicans suffered from discrimination. Thus, the “Memin Pinguin” cartoon character remained an unchallenged daily staple of Mexican popular culture since the 1940s, when author Yolanda Vargas Dulche conceptualised the character. Unfortunately, the Memin Pinguin controversy, spilling over into the U.S. last year, is making many African Americans look urgently, for the first time, at Mexican history and society. Many of them are asking questions about the 19th century abolition of slavery in Mexico. They are asking questions about the ill-treatment and decadeslong lack of social advancement for Afro-Mexicans in the states of Coahuila, Veracruz and on the Pacific Ocean coast. Inhabitants of these lands and elsewhere are demanding more recognition and rights for Afro-Mexicans, especially in some of the border towns (like Nacimiento) between Mexico and the U.S. This interesting situation raises other questions. For example, African Americans are frequently focused on the African Diaspora. Then, why do they sometimes reject the Latin American black experience? The answer may be that African Americans are not rejecting the black experience in Latin America, but rather that they have never been exposed to it. Their eyes have always been traditionally focused on Africa, where English is spoken in Ghana, Nigeria and South Africa. Now they must deal with the black experience in Latin America, and tackle the hurdle of the Spanish language, whether they like it or not. Hispanics the biggest minority A dramatic event happened in the year 2000 that had no precedent...ever! In that year, according to the US national census, Latinos exceeded African Americans as the leading minority population group in the U.S. This has a far reaching impact currently unknown to social scientists, government officials, media commentators and just ordinary people. Latinos now comprise officially over 40 million persons in the U.S. This does not include the 10-12 million people of Latino and ethnic background caught in the web of illegal immigration across the immense Mexico-U.S. border. That border stretches for nearly 2,000 miles along the southern portions of the states of California, Arizona, New Mexico and Texas, not including the Gulf of Mexico its own waterline from east Texas, Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama and Florida. Most of these “illegal immigrants” end up in teeming “inner-city” areas. Professor Jennifer Hochschild of Harvard University recently wrote, “In 2000, the racial/ethnic makeup of US residents was: White, 69 percent; Hispanic and Black, 13 percent each; and Asian and other, six percent. By 2050, these percentages are projected to be: 50, 24, 15 and 13.” Looking closely at studies dealing with Hispanics, Hochschild notes that “the sheer magnitude of immigration and the high birth rates 8 Street scene in Penuela among Latinos who share a language, religion, and background and who mostly live in a distinct section of the United States are creating a de facto split between a predominantly Spanishspeaking United States and an English-speaking United States.” Making matters worse, the political gains African Americans have made in the inner city areas, since the 1960s Civil Rights era have, relatively speaking, disappeared by the 1990s. For example, in the 1980s the largest U.S. cities, such as New York, Chicago and Los Angeles, all had African American mayors, voting blocks that assured their re-election. But, with increased opportunities for racial integration in the suburbs of these large cities many middle-class African Americans simply moved out of the inner-city. More often than not, the “innercity” areas are frequently inhabited now by recent immigrants from Mexico, Central and South America. Latinos have made not only general population gains, but they are also beginning to take over the seats of municipal power in a few of the largest U.S. cities. Latino mayor Antonio Villarai- gosa's election in 2005 as mayor of Los Angles, California certifies the newest trend in “brown” power. The population demographers have predicted even more pronounced Latino gains will surface politically as the new inheritors of American cities become more sophisticated about how to exercise the right to vote and demand political power. I’ll wager the gain made by Villaraigosa is a clarion call to other Latinos to try their hand at high government office. African Americans now will have to learn how to share the political, economic and public affairs stage with Latinos, the “new” ethnic group in the coming years. Even now, there is a growing sense that African Americans could be challenged by Latinos, especially at first, politically. For example, I for one never imagined that the first non-white U.S. Attorney General woul d be t he Mex i candescended Alberto Gonzalez. I always assumed the Democratic Party, when it occupied the White House, would appoint an African American to the position of chief law enforcement officer. But alas, it took the republican administration of George Bush to manage that hurdle. Rapid U.S. domestic job increases by the Latino population group are being matched by tandem influences throughout the Western Hemisphere in foreign relations. Often, U.S. media commentators forget, or do not pay attention to the fact, that Spanish and Portuguese (the linguistic cousin Portuguese is spoken in Brazil with 170 million people) are the chief languages in the Western Hemisphere spoken by over 500 million people in the Caribbean Basin, Mexico, the countries of Central America and South America. In January 2006, the U.S. government had no clear plan to tackle the thorny problem of immigration. The backlog of cases, some taking years to sort out, created nightmares for the national Immigration Service. This problem was different from that facing “illegals” which was still simply a matter of apprehending them and adjudicating a quick return to the Mexican side of the border. But, more than once the problem of “return cases” people trying to escape across the U.S.-Mexican border became a matter of people coming back for a second or third try. And, “illegals” from Mexico were increasing targets of so-called “vigilante” groups operating on the U.S. side of the border. Sometimes, these confrontations would be violent. This is why there are now several legislative proposals before the U.S. Congress to finally manage the “illegal” immigration issue. Many of the proposals will take months to work toward some overall consensus, perhaps with a conclusion in the early spring of 2006. Even though there are strong, unyielding voices on both sides of the controversy, including a proimmigration stand by Roger Car- 9 dinal Mahoney, head of the millions-strong catholic Archdiocese of Los Angeles, who suggested that the faithful go outside the law, if necessary, to protect undocumented Mexicans. As I write, there have been significant protest demonstrations in high population cities around the United States in recent days. In the meantime, Republican legislators may be scrambling to hold on to their congressional seats and maintain small majorities in both houses of Congress while President Bush settles into his “lame duck” status. Afro-Hispanic Relationships African Americans who are inescapably in low-wage categories and therefore can not flee the inner cities are compelled to live beside recently settled Mexican or other Central American immigrants, “illegal” or not. These African Americans severely lack education, job skills or other means of advancement. In a personal way, I am most familiar with the urban cauldrons of the great “megalopolis” centres in New York City and Los Angeles where many times working class blacks, who previously occupied t he nei ghbour hoods and proudly showed their political and economic strength, now share streets crowded with Latino “bodegas” (small item neighborhood stores) and “carnicerias” (stores to purchase meat, fish and other ethnic staples). If there are inner-city “flashpoints” they will be seen in urban areas where poor African Americans and often “illegal” Mexican and Central American population groups can not manage their urban spaces and/or overcome their beleaguered economic conditions. Clearly, the present government of President Vicente Fox of Mexico put itself into a terrible fix by supporting the 60-year legacy of the cartoon character Memin Pinguin. That is, considering the opposite views of the American Reverends Jessie Jackson and Al Sharpton and the Bush White House. But, Fox has a social and historical situation at home that was hard to compromise. In any event, he had absolutely nothing to lose politically by taking a pro-Memin Pinguin stand. His presidential six year term expires with the new elections in July ’06. And, according to the Mexican constitution President Fox is prevented from seeking a second term in office. True, there was a huge controversy last year surrounding the cartoon character Memin Pinguin, both in Mexico and the U.S., but like most flurries the big headlines merely lasted only a while. Those headlines have been replaced by “illegal” immigration from Mexico. Reverend Jessie Jackson was shrewd enough, during the debate with President Fox, to publicly encourage African American college students to begin studying the Spanish language in earnest. That way, the students could learn for themselves if the Mexican people really shared President Fox’s sentiments. Only time will tell if Reverend Jackson’s legendary persuasiveness compels large numbers of black university students to study Latin American language, culture and history. The current U.S. societal prob- now facing directly before the U.S. Congress. These legislative bills will never make everyone happy. But, they were never specifically designed to do so. My local newspaper, the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette ran a frontpage news article with the title “Black Latinos can find race niches hard to accept” only two weeks ago on Sunday, February 26, 2006. The story was about personal insights of darkerskinned Latinos, who recently immigrated to the U.S., and how they were treated in their adopted homeland. The accounts are very instructive, and sobering, in some ways. For instance, the article highlighted the case of Marisol Del Orbe, a mestizo of mixed-race origin like many inhabitants of the Caribbean island of Puerto Rico. She was never just black – until she came to the U.S. She felt, for the first time, a special cultural and racial isolation that was markedly absent in Puerto Rico. Del Orbe, like others in her situation, often finds examples of discrimination, from many, in the majority of Americans. And, people like her reject the discrimination foisted upon her immediately upon arrival in the U.S., simply African Americans now will have to learn how to share the political, economic and public affairs stage with Latinos, the “new” ethnic group in the coming years. lems and friction, if any, between Latin Americans and African Americans will not easily go away. This is particularly true when urban resource pressures, caused by rapid illegal immigration from Mexico, begin to be taken in account. Soon, we should know the final outcome of the many immigration bills because of her skin colour. I was quoted in the article saying “one issue uniting blacks in this nation [the U.S.] is the historical struggle against racism. So, when black Latinos can’t identify with that, because of pride in their mixed heritage, some blacks see them [Latinos] as running away from the issue.” 10 According to a recent study on race-mixing among Latinos, blacks and whites in the U.S, a large majority (over 70%) of white Hispanic children have parents who are both white Hispanic. In contrast, it is less common (only 31%) that a black Hispanic child has two black Hispanic parents. For nearly half of the black Hispanic children, one of the parents is non-Hispanic black. This result suggests that intermarriage is the most important source of the black Hispanic population, with a strong likelihood of having a non-Hispanic black parent. Light at the End of the Tunnel I do see a proverbial “light at the end of the tunnel” in our evolving circumstances between Latin Americans and African Americans in the U.S. However, the complex and confusing tableau of “race relations” will not make things easier. Neither will the unyielding competition for jobs, decent housing and meaningful education from the bottom-up for recent Spanish-language immigrants who find themselves also competing with black Americans for scant social resources. Now that Latinos are, since the year 2000’s enumeration, the largest non-white ethnic group in the U.S. with over 40 million people, the American media, and the federal, state and local governments will increasingly focus upon them. African Americans must adjust, however painfully, to that fact. African Americans must look for their own place in this new “race mosaic.” One future link could be identification and unification with the black experience in the wider context of Latin America—AfroLatinos. Perhaps, the new reconciliation would be easier and more fruitful in a lasting sense if African Americans simply began learning the Spanish language in order to live comfortably next to their new neighbours in the “inner cities.” Britain can use this experience of American racial dynamics to understand their own issues of immigration. It needs to be able to absorb the American experience and use it as an analogy. Bibliography Aguirre Beltrán, Población Negra La Mexico. Gonzalo. de (Fondo de Cultura Económica, 1984). Cuevas, Marco Polo Hernández. African Mexicans and the dis- course on modern nation (University Press of America, Dallas, 2004). Hochschild, Jennifer L. “Looking ahead: racial trends in the U.S.,” Daedalus. Journal of the American Academy of Arts & Sciences (Winter, 2005). Krauze, Enrique. “The Pride in Memin Pinguin,” The Washington Post (July 12, 2005). Logan, John R. How Race Counts for Hispanic Americans (Lewis Mumford Centre for Comparative Urban and Regional Research, University of Albany, NY, 2003). McKinley, James C., Jr. “New Racial Gaffe in Mexico; This Time It’s a Tasteless Stamp Set,” The New York Times (June 30, 2005). Mobley, Ezekiel. “Black Mexicans: Forgotten Africans?” The African Times, Vol. 18, No. 9 (July 15-31, 2005). Nance, Kevin. “Exploring the art of Mexico’s ‘Third Root’,” The Chicago Sun-Times, February 14, 2006. Vincent, Ted. “The Blacks Who Freed Mexico,” The Journal of Negro History, Vol. 79, No. 3 (Summer, 1994), pp. 257-76. 11 America’s “Great Satan” Then And Now In Action and War Films: Subtle Shifts, changing Stereotypes By Ralph Donald, Southern Illinois University Edwardsville Department of Mass Communications D Ralph Donald The image of the Great Satan, the archetypal monster who exemplifies the current enemy, has always been a powerful stereotype in Hollywood movies. In this fascinating article, Ralph Donald considers how the model for the beast constantly changes to reflect America’s changing foreign policy objectives over the years. uring World War II, the feature film came into its own as a potent propaganda tool. When American film propagandists used what rhetorical critics call “devil terms” to disparage America’s Axis enemies, they often used a shorthand to characterize them. American propagandists characterized the enemy as what Iran’s Ayatollah Khomeini would later call a “Great Satan”: a single, stereotyped image – often a person, sometimes a loathsome label -to represent the enemy as a whole. In Khomeini ’s case, he referred to both American President George Bush Sr. and the United States, but in many films of World War II, filmmakers used three individual, although sometimes interchangeable, “Great Satans”: Hitler – (occasionally Josef Goebbels or Hermann Goering) for the Germans, either Prime Minister Tojo or Emperor Hirohito to represent Japan, and Benito Mussolini for the Italians. But there was also room for generic anti-Nazi and ferociously racist anti-Japanese propaganda in American films, radio and print media. After World War 2 But what has happened in the years following World War II? How is the Great Satan propaganda device used today in American films? And has there been any evolution in its use? This article will examine evidence that the Great Satan is still alive and well in many new and different forms in the films produced by Hollywood. After World War II, American intentions around the world became less clear and legitimate to both outsiders and to many Americans. As American wars and foreign interventions became more controversial, images of the “Great Satan” in Hollywood’s feature films often became less clear. In reaction to McCarthyism in the 1950s, Hollywood’s Great Satan of the Korean War was the fuzzy image of the “yellow peril” – Korean and Chinese communists -- a nameless, faceless communist enemy. In a few films about the Vietnam War, Ho Chi Minh was invoked as America’s Great Satan. But even during the apex of that terrible conflict, few Americans would have recognized North Vietnam’s president if they ran into him on the street. Ho Chi Minh was a ghost to most Americans – except perhaps for the few young people who protested the war by waving North Vietnamese flags and wearing silk-screened “Uncle Ho” Tshirts. In most American films about Vietnam, the enemy Americans saw on the screen was – like the enemy in the Korean War – just another faceless, nameless communist adversary. Hollywood has occasionally put America on notice that not all Great Satans reside across the seas. The Ku Klux Klan, for one example, has been Satanised in a number of modern motion pictures, including films such as 12 Ghosts of Mississippi (1996), Mississippi Burning (1988), The Chamber (1996), and, more recently, in the comedy, O, Brother, Where Art Thou? (2000). But again, no grand dragon’s name jumps to the forefront as the common symbol for this hate group. In American culture, especially in the 1960s and 70s, former Alabama Gov. George Wallace was arguably the most accepted symbol of Southern racism. But while he espoused some of the Klan’s prejudices, Wallace was never directly linked to the Klan as a member. Instead, the KKK is portrayed as a collective Satan, shown as individuals who do their jobs by day, go home for dinner with their families, but then slip out late at night to don white robes, burn crosses and chant racist slogans. Even more obscure was the nebulous communist enemy in the few films that depict America’s invasion of Grenada. For example, Clint Eastwood plays Gunnery Sergeant Tom Highway in Heartbreak Ridge (1986). Highway and his Marines make short work of the faceless, generic communist threat. Sylvester Stallone in Rambo III (1988) provided viewers with a combat film about the fight against Soviet Great Satans occupying Afghanistan. In this film, Rambo resorts to his usual mayhem as he rescues his friend Colonel Trautman from the clutches of a group of sadistic Soviet Army brutes. In The Living Daylights (1987), Timothy Dalton as James Bond finds himself in the clutches of similar Soviet Satans in Afghanistan, but as usual, he rescues himself, his girlfriend and a mujahideen commander (insert your own Osama Bin Laden irony here). The Cold War Throughout the Cold War, the Soviets often achieved Great Satan status. In every other James Bond film, Soviets are pictured as a nameless, faceless Russian bear of an enemy. With no “Uncle Joe” Stalin as a strongman image, and especially with a succession of lacklustre premiers through the years, no Satan in particular – except perhaps Nikita Khrushchev – captured the American imagination anywhere near the same as our adversaries in World War II. And Satan-types didn’t appear in that many Hollywood movies until quite recently, when Enemy at the Gates (2001), the story of a mini-war between a Soviet sniper and his German counterpart during the siege of St ali ngr ad, f eat ures Bob Hoskins’ studied portrayal of Khrushchev, a ruthless commander ordered by Stalin to save Stalingrad at any cost. One of the best films to put a more human “face” on the generic Russian bear was The Beast (1988). In this picture, a Soviet tank crew is lost in the Afghan desert, pursued by vengeful mujahideen guerrillas. The tank is commanded by a cruel Russian tyrant, played by George Dzundza. Interestingly, in both The Beast and the World War II submarine thriller Das Boot (1981), directors Kevin Reynolds and Wolfgang Petersen ask audiences to identify with and even cheer for sailors and soldiers representing America’s former Great Satans. But in The Beast, Dzundza’s tank commander character is so hateful that audiences cheer when he dies. And to confuse things further, the protagonist, a young, Russian tank crewman played by Jason Patric, ends up changing loyalties and joining the muja- hideen. This film’s image of the BearSatan has more clarity than the predictable, chew-the-carpet maniac images of Soviet Great Satans found in the Bond films. Consider Steven Berkoff’s chewthe-carpet, psychopathic General Orlov in Octopussy (1983). The general plans to detonate a nuclear bomb at an American air base in West Germany, hoping the disaster will cause NATO to withdraw strategic nuclear weapons from Europe. Then, after the withdrawal, with no on- site threat of nuclear retaliation, Soviet superiority in troops and tanks stationed in the Warsaw Pact nations would permit him to invade and conquer Western Europe. Of course, the British spy foils Orlov’s plans, and Europe is saved. Since the fall of the Soviet Union, America stands alone as the sole superpower on the planet. To wound such a seemingly invincible enemy, neo Great Satans must find another approach. Of late, terrorism is the strategy. But before turning to the terrorist villains that now occupy our minds, we should examine some of our recent history’s lesser-remembered Great Satans. For a short time before and during the U.S. economic boycott against South Africa that helped hasten the demise of the apartheid government there, a few South African Satans graced American screens. For example, in Lethal Weapon II (1989), Joss Ackland’s sinister Arjen Rudd and Derrick O'Connor’s homicidal Pieter Vorstedt were South Africans dealing in illegal drugs and currency in Los Angeles under the safety of “diplomatic immunity.” So perfectly did these villains portray Nazi stereotypes that Mel Gibson’s police detective character, Martin Riggs, gave Rudd the nickname of “Aryan” instead of Arjen, and referred to Vorstedt as “Adolph.” Terrorists The IRA has provided Americans with some interesting terrorist Satans in films such as Patriot Games (1992). Tom Clancy’s hero, Jack Ryan, formerly of the Marines and the CIA, is vacationing with his family in England, and coincidentally is at hand to thwart an extremist IRA faction’s attempt to assassinate a member of the British royal family. One villain escapes, and he and his band of terrorists illegally enter the U.S., bent on revenge on Ryan and his family. After that attempt fails and the terrorists escape from the U.S., in an all-too-close parallel to future 13 events, the CIA launches an assault on the Middle Eastern desert hideaway of the terrorists. Although many are killed in this assault, the chief terrorist again escapes. Now even more enraged, he launches a second, bolder attack in the U.S. This time it’s an assault on Ryan’s own home. Ultimately, Ryan helps repulse the attack and kills the terrorist. Brad Pitt ironically portrays a terrorist with a conscience in The Devil’s Own (1997). Pitt’s character, a fugitive IRA member who employs a phoney passport to enter the U.S., is thwarted by a New York policeman, also played by Harrison Ford. Again September eleventh comes to mind. In Nighthawks (1981), a terroristfor-hire named Wolfgar bombs Harrod’s department store in London and then tries to commit similar bombings and murders in New York City. Another New York detective, this time Sylvester Stallone, steps in to foil Wolfgar’s plans. And in the denouement, as in Patriot Games, Wolfgar seeks revenge by trying to murder a member of Stallone’s family. Having been frustratingly one step behind Wolfgar throughout most of the film, Stallone finally learns that to defeat a terrorist, he must think like a terrorist. He anticipates Wolfgar’s next move and for once is there ahead of Wolfgar, waiting to kill him. Drug Lords Between American involvements in outright wars, Hollywood created another kind of interim Satan: the powerful South American drug lord. In A Clear and Present Danger (1994), the CIA’s Jack Ryan again does battle with American enemies, this time a pair of ruthless and very stereotypical drug-dealing Great Satans, one of which is a very transparent Pablo Escobar clone. In License to Kill (1989), an even more outlandish drug lord invades U.S. soil, murders CIA agent Felix Leiter’s wife on her wedding night and feeds Leiter to a shark. Somehow Leiter survives. James Bond, in typical ironic fashion, assassinates this drug lord using a cigarette lighter, a wedding gift from Felix. We’ve not yet seen any American-made feature films about Great Satan also-ran – now war crimes defendant, former Yugoslav President Slobodan Milosevic. However, the conflict in the former Yugoslavia is not forgotten: Behind Enemy Lines (2001) deals with the race to rescue a downed American pilot from (appropriately) blackbereted, homicidal Serbians. It’s clear that the Serbs are the villains, but Milosevic’s role as head villain is not a part of the film. The Middle East Followers of Mu’ammar Ghadhafi of Libya and the Ayatollah Khomeini launched effective terrorist attacks against the U.S. and other western nations, such Tasker, spoils an attempt by Aziz and his followers to use a stolen nuclear bomb to obliterate Miami. In an eerie and ironic reversal of the tragedy of September eleventh at the World Trade Center, Schwartzenegger uses an airplane – this time a Harrier jet – to annihilate terrorists holed up in a high-rise building. Andrew Davis is the director of another Schwartzenegger film, Collateral Damage, originally scheduled to be released in Fall 2001, which was shelved by nervous studio executives until Spring, 2002, because of vague similarities to the September eleventh tragedy. In this film, the California governor played a fireman (formerly a bomb squad member) whose family was killed in a terrorist attack. Later Schwartzenegger takes the law into his own hands, uses the bomb-making skills he learned on the job as he seeks revenge against the terrorists. To be successful, action film scripts must create strong villains. as the destruction of Pan Am flight 103 over Lockerbie, Scotland, and the taking of American hostages in Tehran. Although Ghadhafi and Khomeini are relatively well-known, American filmmakers rarely used them as symbols of the Great Satan in quite the same way, or to the degree, that Hollywood used Hitler, Tojo or Mussolini in World War II. It seems that Hollywood prefers to create its own stylised, stereotyped Arab fanatic. An excellent example of Hollywood’s version of this fanatic is Art Malik’s wild-eyed alQa’eda-type detachment commander, Salim Abu Aziz, in the Arnold Schwartzenegger spyaction film, True Lies (1994). In a film articulating threats voiced by President George W. Bush as an excuse to invade Iraq, Schwartzenegger, as spy Harry In an interview on public radio in September, 2001, director Davis confirmed that the Great Satan device is still on Hollywood’s minds when he said that to be successful, action film scripts like his must create strong villains. Since Saddam Hussein’s forces overran and occupied Kuwait, the then-Iraqi dictator became perhaps the clearest, most recognizable movie Great Satan icon since Hitler. In Courage Under Fire (1996) and Three Kings (1999), Saddam became a household name – and sometimes a curse word. But nameless, mostly faceless Iraqis stand in for the dictator. Interestingly, in Iron Eagle (1986), David Suchet’s “minister of defence” for an Iraq-like rogue Arab state fits Hussein perfectly. Interestingly, this film was released nearly five years before Opera- 14 tion Desert Storm and during a time when Hussein was publicly considered almost an American ally. And in this fantasy, a teenager who commandeers an American fighter jet shoots down a half-dozen inept enemy fighters, including one piloted by the Saddam clone himself. Speaking of fantasies, there is Naked Gun: From the Files of Police Squad (1988), in which Leslie Nielsen assaults a room full of America’s Great Satans, including Yasser Arafat, Ghadhafi, Khomeini, Idi Amin and Mikhail Gorbachev. Nielsen gets to do what so many Americans would love to: kick some serious villain butt. Likewise, in Hot Shots, Part Deux (1993), a lunatic, cross-dressing Saddam is insulted, beaten up and generally manhandled by the good guys as Rambo-style commando Topper Harley leads a rescue mission into Iraq. His mission (see if you can follow this) is to liberate some rescuers who went in earlier to rescue the previous rescue team who were assigned to rescue hostages left behind after Desert Storm. For a very short period, Somali warlord Gen. Mohamed Farah Aidid became to Americans as hated a Satan figure as Saddam Hussein – this mostly because of the deaths of 18 U.S. soldiers and the wounding of dozens more in the battle of Mogadishu in 1993. This military disaster is portrayed in Ridley Scott’s dark film, Black Hawk Down (2001). Although never pictured, Aidid was made out, both in the film’s opening graphics and later in dialog, to be the principal cause of all the suffering and starvation in Somalia. Out of all the Somali warlords, producer Jerry Bruckheimer singled out Aidid as the sole person responsible for preventing food aid from getting to his people. Director Ridley Scott helped emphasize Aidid’s Great Satan status with a terrible scene at the beginning of the movie in which Somali civilians were shot down just for standing in line to beg for grain at U.N. food trucks. If he hadn’t been killed in 1996, Aidid might still be on America’s radar as a potential target. Somalia still remains an object of American concern. Defence Secretary Donald Rumsfeld listed Somalia (due to its support of Osama bin Laden’s alQua’eda network) as one of the next possible targets of America’s war on terrorism. And the tragic confluence of events that led to Aidid’s men dragging an American soldier’s corpse through the streets of Mogadishu may have had another negative effect. The Philadelphia Inquirer quotes both former U.S. Ambassador to Somalia Robert Oakley and Mark Bowden, author of the original book, Black Hawk Down, as saying that al-Qua’eda and Osama bin Laden “… looked at our retreat from Lebanon in 1983 and from Somalia in 1993 [after the Battle of Mogadishu] as signs of fundamental U.S. weakness in the face of casualties.” In what has now become a cautionary tale for America, in The Siege (1998), the CIA abducts an agent of the Great Satan, in this case a notorious Muslim leader. In retaliation, terrorists carry out a number of bomb attacks on New York City. The head of the FBI/New York Police Department Terrorism Task Force teams up with a CIA operative to arrest or kill the members of the terrorist organization responsible for the bombings. Uncannily similar to al-Qa’eda, these terrorists work in cell groups, ignorant of the activities and membership of other cells -- including those operating in the same city. As bomb attacks on New York continue, The U.S. sends the Army into the city and the Army’s general-in-charge declares martial law. The remainder of the picture is a conflict between civil liberty-minded civilians and the military, which is persecuting Arab-Americans, holding them in makeshift concentration camps without warrants, and in some cases, torturing and killing them. And most recently, due to the U.S. embassy bombings in Africa, the attack on the U.S.S. Cole and, of course, the Sept. 11 attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon, Osama bin Laden has risen to the top of FBI’s most wanted list of “Great Satans,” offering a $25 million reward. But at this writing, we still have seen no American motion pictures that feature this villain. But there have been films made about the kind of individual who could very easily become an alQa’eda-type true believer. Although The Peacemaker (1997) is a rather predictable, hackneyed, action-filled, George Clooney/ Nicole Kidman vehicle about retrieving a stolen nuclear bomb, it gives viewers a revealing view inside the mind of a suicidal terrorist: a man who has lost so much that all that remains is blind, self-immolating fury – the kind of rage that in another reality could result in a tragedy such as September 11. In The Peacemaker’s denouement, Clooney and Kidman foil this Bosnian terrorist’s plan to detonate a stolen nuclear bomb at the United Nations building in New York. But terrorist Dusan Gavrich doesn’t know this when a few days earlier he records a taped message to the world – which he assumes will be found only after his suicide mission is successful: You will look at what I have done and say, "Of course -why not -- they are all animals. They have slaughtered each other for centuries." But the truth is, I'm not a monster. I'm a human man -- I'm just like you, whether you like it or not. For years, we have tried to live together, until a war was waged on us, on all of us: a war waged by our own leaders. And who supplied the Serb cluster bombs, the Croatian tanks, the Muslim artillery shells that killed our sons and daughters? It was the governments of the West who drew the boundaries of our 15 countries -- sometimes in ink, sometimes in blood -the blood of our people. And now you dispatch your peacekeepers to write our destiny again. We can never accept this peace that leaves us with nothing but pain, pain the peacemakers must be made to feel. Their wives, their children, their houses and churches. So now you know, now you must understand. Leave us to find our own destiny. May God have mercy on us all. This is the newest, post-modern face for America’s Great Satan: a man who has lost everything and rightly or wrongly blames the U.S. for his misery -- a man whose only desire is to make Americans share his pain and suffering. No greed, no imperialistic aims, just blind, inscrutable fury. U.S. leaders would rather paste the Taliban’s and Osama bin Laden’s faces on this new kind of Satan, because from a propaganda standpoint it’s much easier to make a loathsome enemy out of a gaggle of fanatic mullahs, a wild horde of riflewielding desert-dwellers or a renegade millionaire sheik than a wounded, despondent man willing to kill himself and murder thousands just to make a point. Conclusion This article has examined the phenomenon of the Great Satan in American action and war films and tracked its evolution through a small sample of pictures produced since World War II. Only rarely, such as in films made during World War II, have we seen a correlation between clear American goals and popular opinion and the personification of an individual Great Satan. Most often since then, these Satans were created as generic villains, carefully stereotyped for public consumption. The clearest exceptions were Saddam Hussein, the warlord Mohamed Farah Aidid and Osama bin Laden. Hussein’s savage rule in Iraq paved the way for the “regime change” caused by the American military intervention in 2003. Aidid was murdered by rivals in his own country, or Somalia might have also been a part of President George W. Bush’s “Axis of Evil.” (Jan. 29, 2002) The United States’ intervention against the Taliban in Afghanistan was aimed at capturing or killing bin Laden and defeating al-Qa’eda. out over the following years, American filmmakers will probably draw the terrorist Great Satan in much clearer strokes. Bibliographic notes Bush, George W. President Bush’s State of the Union address, Jan. 29,2002. www. whi t ehouse. gov/ news/ r e l e a s e s / 2 0 0 2 / 0 1/ 2 0 0 20 1 2 9 11.html Davis, Andrew. Comments in an interview on “Talk of The Nation” on National Public Radio Sept. 25, 2001. So far, through the creation of suitably odious Great Satans, the American people have been Rickey, Carrie. Review of the persuaded to support military film, Black Hawk Down, Philaactions against many of them, delphia Inquirer, Jan 17, 2002. moving in near-ideological unison in a earlier cases. As the war against terrorism plays itself Filmography Title Year The Beast Behind Enemy Lines Black Hawk Down Das Boot The Chamber 1988 2001 Kevin Reynolds John Moore Director 2001 Ridley Scott 1981 1996 Wolfgang Petersen James Foley A Clear and Present Danger Courage Under Fire 1994 Phillip Noyce 1996 Edward Zwick The Devil’s Own 1997 Alan J. Pakula Enemy at the Gates 2001 Jean-Jacques Annaud Ghosts of Mississippi Heartbreak Ridge 1996 1986 Rob Reiner Clint Eastwood Hot Shots, Part Deux Iron Eagle 1993 Jim Abrahams 1986 Sidney J. Furie Lethal Weapon II 1989 Richard Donner License to Kill The Living Daylights 1989 1987 John Glen John Glen Mississippi Burning Naked Gun: From the Files of Police Squad Nighthawks 1988 Alan Parker 1988 David Zucker 1981 Bruce Malmuth 2000 Joel Coen O, Brother, Where Thou? Octopussy Patriot Games The Peacemaker Rambo III The Siege Three Kings True Lies Art 1983 John Glen 1992 1997 Phillip Noyce Mimi Leder 1988 Peter MacDonald 1998 Edward Zwick 1999 David O. Russell 1994 James Cameron 16 The Vietnam War and the Civil Rights movement The coincidence of the Civil Rights movement with the Vietnamese war helped to radicalise African American servicemen both in Vietnam and on their return. In this article, Brendan Gallagher considers how the two events are inextricably bound up. W hen the Vietnam War escalated and was wholeheartedly backed by the White House, President Johnson failed to realise the racial nightmare that American involvement in Vietnam would create. Vietnam coincided with the protests of the Civil Rights Movement and the rise of Black Power during 1960s America. Whilst African-Americans were discriminated at home but also within the U.S. armed forces, the effects of black power, the impact of the Civil Rights struggle and “the resurgence of black subcultural style, expressed through dress, language and gesture”, had been transferred to the war zone. One million African-Americans had served in the Second World War and returned home imbued with the desire to possess the full rights of citizenship so long denied them. In previous wars also, African-Americans had fought not only for their emancipation but also for their firm belief in democracy. When black servicemen returned victorious after having defeated Hitler and the threat of fascism in Europe, in 1945, they soon realised that they were still denied basic human rights. Protest groups were formed such as the Congress of Racial Equality (C.O.R.E.). Subsequently, demonstrations, sit-ins and boycotts pressurised the authorities to integrate schools and public buildings. Amidst increasing tension, black soldiers embraced Black Power: culturally and politically. Vietnam was America’s first racially integrated conflict. Black soldiers had fought in all of America’s previous military encounters, but in segregated units. However, a small number of segregated units still existed, and “an officerless and forgotten platoon of anxious black G.I.s despairingly shooting into the darkness…in the last American outpost on the border between Vietnam and Cambodia” was movingly portrayed in the film Apocalypse Now. Defending democracy abroad Vietnam was a war against communism: it was a war waged to promote liberal democracy instead of an imposed dictatorship. Again, black Americans consequently trusted that if they defended democracy abroad they were more likely to receive it at home. They recalled the words of the legendary leader of the National Association for the Advancement of Coloured People, W.E.B. Du Bois, when he advised during the beginning of World War 1, “Let us, while the war lasts, forget our special grievances and close ranks shoulder to shoulder with our white fellow citizens…fighting for democracy. We make no ordinary sacrifice, but we make it gladly and willingly.” These words in turn echoed the sentiment of former slave and early African-American leader Frederick Douglas when describing the fundamental requirements and rights of American patriotism and therefore citizenship: “..for once let the Black man get up in his person the brass letters, U.S; let him get an eagle upon his button…bullets in his pocket, and there is no power on earth…which can deny that he has earned the right to citizenship in the United States.” Nevertheless, legislation still segregated blacks in schools, in employment and socially. Accordingly, Schaller depicts the situation: “The U.S. was fighting enemies who proclaimed the right to enslave or exterminate inferior races. Presumably, American citizens were united in detesting such hateful ideologies. Yet American minorities at home still faced discrimination and abuse.” Before 1960, racial animosity had been negligible: black soldiers were professional and seeking a career. Moreover, for some Black soldiers, Vietnam provided an opportunity for escape from poor economic and social conditions at home "I thought the only way I could make it out of the ghetto, was to be the best soldier I possibly could”. After years of discrimination, they viewed fighting in the war as an opportunity to prove their worth to their country. Nevertheless, as a result of greater awareness of black 17 struggle and identity, publicised by media and widened television coverage, Vietnam became the “black man’s” true subject. The struggle for civil rights The national March on Washington in 1963, in which over 200,000 blacks and whites participated, amidst widespread media coverage, represented one of the most powerful protests in American history. Symbolically standing in front of the Lincoln Memorial, King called for black Americans to be included in the American Dream. His dream was that American Negroes be fully accepted and integrated into American society: that “little black boys” and “little white boys” soon would be able to go to school together. Subsequently, in1964, the Civil Rights Act was passed, bringing de Jure, or legal discrimination economic justice. King himself warned: “millions of Negroes will, out of frustration and despair, seek solace and security in black nationalist ideologies.” As President Lyndon Johnson increased the focus of American foreign policy on the conflict in Vietnam, statistics soon presented stark evidence of racial discrimination. In 1965 there were 23,000 U.S. servicemen in Vietnam. By the end of 1967, the number rose dramatically to 465,000 – the result of Project 100,000, initiated by President Johnson in 1966. Qualification standards were lowered meaning that black Americans who had previously evaded the draft owing to poor education opportunities, were now eligible and so too, ironically, were racially intolerant, poor white men from the Southern States. 246,000 men were recruited between Vietnam is a white man’s war. Black men should not go, only to return and fight whites at home to a close; and, effectively barring discrimination in public places and employment. In 1965, as part of a voter registration drive in Alabama, a third protest march from Selma to Montgomery took place after the two previous attempts were crushed by hostile local law officers using excessive violence. Under heavy government protection, and even heavier international news coverage, the marchers arrived in Montgomery on March 25. Consequently, the Voting Rights Act was soon passed, allowing AfricanAmericans in the Southern states to register as voters. The Civil Rights Movement then, had made considerable gains for African-American civil rights by 1965; however, there were dissenting voices arguing that blacks had still achieved little October 1966 and June 1969 – 41% were black, although black Americans represented only 11% of the U.S. population. 58,000 lost their lives in the conflict, 22% of whom were black. Less than 3% of the officers in the Army were black, less than 1% in the Marines. Black soldiers and the draft Draft boards themselves were, by their very nature, divisive and discriminatory: in 1967 no black Americans were present on the boards in Alabama, Arkansas, Mississippi and Louisiana. Jack Helms, a member of the Louisiana draft board, was a Grand Wizard in the Ku Klux Klan. He described the long established National Association for the Advancement of Coloured People black civil rights group, as “a communist-inspired, anti-Christ, sex-perverted group of tennis short beatniks.” Soon rumours abounded that the U.S. government were using the Vietnam War as a form of genocide. Money was being pumped into Vietnam instead of poor black communities in America. Black Panther Eldridge Cleaver noted the contradictory situation, and complained: “Black Americans are asked to die for the system in Vietnam, in Watts (a poor black suburb of Los Angeles) they are asked to die by it.” Lance Corporal William L. Harvey also voiced his concern to a Washington Post reporter: “Vietnam is a white man’s war. Black men should not go, only to return and fight whites at home.” Black soldiers began to identify with the enemy: they saw the Vietnamese as, like themselves, victims of white colonial racist aggression. They were encouraged by anti-war demonstrations at home. White and black students, representing the Student Non-Violent Co-ordinating Committee, regularly organised marches and disruptive sit-ins. Boxer, Muhammad Ali dared to speak out: “ I ain`t got no quarrel with the Vietcong.” and declared: “They want me to go to Vietnam to shoot some black folks that never lynched me. Never called me nigger, never assassinated my leaders.” His subsequent refusal to enlist as a serviceman led to a harsh rebuke from the American Government: he was subsequently fined and sentenced to prisoneffectively stripping him of his World title. Martin Luther King voiced his concerns and charged the U.S. Government with being “the greatest purveyor of violence in the world today”, and urged dissenting blacks to seek the status of conscientious objectors (as indeed Ali had done). Furthermore, other groups uttered their discontent and disillusionment. “We recoil with horror,” said an S.N.C.C position paper in 1965, “at the inconsistency of a 18 supposedly free society where responsibility to freedom is equated with the responsibility to lend oneself to military aggression.” Outrage over the war, and over the “disproportionate number” of young black men being drafted to fight it, contributed significantly to S.N.C.C’s embrace of Black Power. field became a stage of conflict within the U.S ranks. Rebellion and mutiny amongst black soldiers began to occur. Also, in 1970, seven black soldiers from the 176th Regiment disobeyed orders to go on patrol duty, claiming their lives were being “deliberately endangered by racist officers” After Martin Luther King’s assassination, white soldiers applauded his murder. Racist graffiti, cross burnings and Ku Klux Klan material were tolerated on some bases. Young AfricanAmerican recruits were confronted with the symbol most associated with historical racist oppression, the Confederate flag, daubed on army machinery including tanks, jeeps and even helicopters. Magazines such as Ebony or Jet were not stocked on some bases and neither were tapes of soul music or books on black American culture and history. Black servicemen were frequently sentenced to longer terms than their white counterparts, and once inside prison, Muslim inmates were refused copies of the Koran. Influenced by the Nation of Islam’s Malcolm X and later by Stokely Carmichael of the Black Panthers, black soldiers embraced their African cultural roots by wearing black beads and black gloves and flew the Black flag. A ritualised handshake, the “dap”, was common amongst black personnel. Black Power salutes were also used in private between black privates and officers. Despite or because of segregated bars and clubs, solidarity increased between black soldiers. Several groups were formed: Blacks in Action, The Unsatisfied Black Soldier, The Ju Jus, and The Mau Maus. - they discussed black history, the Civil Rights Movement, Black Power and soul music. Inter-racial clashes were commonplace in military prisons, army bases and even on aircraft carriers. In October, 1972, a fight Black Panthers in the army The racial tensions in the ghettoes of Detroit and Chicago were now echoed in the armed forces. In July 1969, there was a race riot in Lejeune Marine Camp in North Carolina. Soon, the battle- • An end to the robbery by the white man of our black community; • Payment in currency as restitution for slave labour and mass murder of black people • Decent housing, fit for shelter of human beings • Education for our people that exposes decadent American society The Vietnamese would often call out “ Go home soul man!” to black soldiers on the battleground. involving black and white sailors aboard the attack aircraft carrier Kitty Hawk, in the Tonkin Gulf, left 33 men injured. Groups such as the Black Panther Party for Self-Defense, encouraged violence against white racism at home and in Vietnam. Kathleen Cleaver the wife of Eldridge Cleaver (leader of the Panthers), urged black soldiers: “Right inside of the U.S. imperialist beast’s army, you are strategically placed to begin the process of destroying him from within.” Meanwhile, the Party’s Manifesto promised a programme of social transformation contradicting Johnson’s The Great Society programme of greater public expenditure for welfare, schools, housing and cultural works such as libraries and theatres (which had largely been curtailed due to the spiralling costs of the war in Vietnam). The Marxist rhetoric of the Panthers demanded and pledged the following requirements for black justice and equality in, what they perceived to be a white dominated society of prejudice, hypocrisy and double standards: • “Full employment for our people • Exemption of black men from military service for a racist government • An end to police brutality and murder of black people by organizing • Armed self-defense groups • Freedom for all black prisoners because they haven’t had a fair impartial trial • Black defendants should be tried by a jury of their peers • Land, bread, housing, education, clothing, justice and peace • A United Nations plebiscite in the black colony to determine the will of black people as to their national destiny” Black students were moved by the separatist ideology of the Panthers. Consequently, a black student uprising took place at Cornell University, in December 1968. Armed agitators had taken over an administration building and their continued protests resulted in the resignation of several distinguished scholars- 19 and eventually Cornell’s President. Indeed, it had been a year of turmoil for the U.S: the Tet Offensive had proved disastrous for the Vietnam campaign; in April, Eldridge Cleaver was involved in a shoot-out in Oakland between Black Panthers and police that left one Panther dead and Cleaver and two police officers wounded; and Democrat Bobby Kennedy (who had promised better civil rights for blacks and had promised an early end to the war) had been assassinated - as had Luther King. Recruitment with regard to Black protest organisations was identified by the journalist Michael Herr in his personal account of his time in Vietnam, Dispatches, :“…there were more than a dozen Black Panthers in one platoon, one of which was an agent for the panthers, sent over…to recruit” In addition, a survey produced by Time Magazine illustrated the influence of Black Power; and the growing racial problems and conflicts in Vietnam and at home. Personal interviews were conducted with 400 black enlisted men “from Con Thiem to the Delta” providing a measure of the attitude of black men in Vietnam: • • • • 45% said they would use arms to gain their rights when they return to “the world.” A few boasted that they are smuggling automatic weapons back to the States. 60% agreed that black people should not fight in Vietnam because they have problems back home. Only 23% replied that blacks should fight in Vietnam the same as whites. 64% believed that racial troubles in Vietnam were getting worse. Only 6% thought that racial relations were improving. “Just like civilian life,” one black marine said. “The white doesn’t want to see the black get ahead.” 56% said that they use the Black Power salute. Only 1% condemned its use • • 55% preferred to eat their meals with blacks. 52% preferred to live in all-black barracks. 41% said they would join a riot when they returned to the U.S. However, a nearly equal number, 40%, said they would not. Evidently though, the most unsettling and worrying issue was that black soldiers were dying in greater numbers proportionately, to whites, naturally leading to an increase in discord amongst the black ranks. One black private protested forcefully against the unfair conditions: “You should see for yourself how the black man is being treated over here and the way we are dying. When it comes to rank, we are left out. When it comes to special privileges, we are left out. When it comes to patrols, operations and so forth, we are first.” Propaganda was used by the Vietcong to undermine the black soldiers’ morale: leaflets were dropped describing American army racism and also images depicting U.S. policemen beating black civil rights workers. The Vietnamese would often call out “ Go home soul man!” to black soldiers on the battleground, shooting only at the white soldiers. Soon, a back street in downtown Saigon known as Soul Alley became home for “somewhere between 300 and 500 black AWOLS and deserters”. Soul Alley provided an ideal escape from the restraints of army life and conditions. One explained the attractions of the surroundings to a Time reporter: “You get up late, you smoke a few joints, you get on your Honda and ride around to the PX, buy a few items you can sell on the black market, come back, blow some more grass, and that’s it for one day.” The Civil Rights Acts The Civil Rights Acts at home, in America, resulting in better employment and housing conditions for African-Americans put pressure on the forces to respond to the increasing crisis. General Chapman admitted in 1969, “we’ve got a problem.” Investigations on discrimination and prejudices were addressed in all areas, from the lack of suitable provisions for black servicemen to the small number of black officers. Mandatory Watch and Action Committees were introduced into each unit, using the slogan – “Racism can cost you your career.” Eventually, AfricanAmericans won the right to grow their hair in Afros; and gradually racial tensions within the ranks began to subside. Colin Powell began his military career in Vietnam, rising through the ranks to become General. Indeed, since Vietnam many African-Americans have been promoted to the highest ranks of the U.S Army. Therefore, a positive legacy was left for the new generation of black servicemen, but at a cost: 40% of black veterans suffered from post-traumatic stress, compared with 20% of white veterans. African-Americans also suffered after returning from combat when faced with unforgiving working conditions, particularly in the North. Manufacturing firms were relocating southward because of cheaper land, lower taxes, and lower union membership. Moreover, “the existence of the right to work laws allowed by section 14b of the TaftHartley Act, plus the social conservatism of the region ”meant that black labour effectively became marginalized. Transportation, particularly in the South was cheaper and energy supplies necessarily, were closer: “manufacturing firms are favoring the white South—Northern Mississippi, the white hill country and north-western Arkansas. They are not locating in the black Delta towns. There are a 20 number of reasons for this new form of racial discrimination… Relocating manufacturers find the hill country white workers are free thinkers who reject unions, while black workers seek the protection of unions. With white labor, there is neither a union problem nor a racial problem.” Conclusion Participation in the Vietnam War without doubt heightened black consciousness, and help politicise every black American as a result of their being made “clearly aware of the paradox of fighting for democracy abroad when they did not have it at home.” The growing prosperity of whites, whilst African-Americans continued to be sidelined- displaced and alienated thus remaining on the periphery and margins of American societyemphasised the confusion of, what Du Bois termed “doubleconsciousness”: that sense of being American citizens but also having an African past. Unfortunately racism still exists in America today and blacks continue to suffer from discrimination in the armed forces and in society as a whole. Although the economic conditions of U.S blacks have improved, the large gap between blacks and whites has remained, and has led to racial tensions that have yet to be resolved. There are still high rates of failure for black pupils at schools and colleges, high rates of unemployment, and high rates of crime committed by African-Americans. Nevertheless, the struggle for Civil Rights at home, and on the battlefields and jungles of Vietnam, underlined a new consciousness typified by Black Power. A radical change had occurred: Vietnam helped imbue African-Americans with a fresh philosophy for freedom. They now shared a common identity provoked by awareness of their own alienation: “The immediate cause for racial problems here,” explained Navy Lieutenant Owen Heggs, the only black attorney in I Corps, “is black people themselves. White people haven’t changed. What has changed is the black population.” Now, soldiers shared a common response to the injustice their race had suffered: “When an American force stormed ashore south of Danang this summer, young blacks wore amulets around their necks symbolizing black pride, culture and self-defense. They raised their fists to their brothers as they moved side by side with white marines against their common Communist enemy.” Bibliography. Bishop C. Vietnam War Diary: 1964-1975. (Italy: Aerospace, 2003). Blair T. Retreat to the Ghetto. ( New York: Hill and Wang, 1978) Blum J. Years of Discord: American Politics and Society, 19611974. (U.S.A: W.W. Norton and Company, Inc., 1992). Cawthorne N. Vietnam: A War Lost and Won. (Denmark: Arcturus, 2003). Du Bois W.E.B. The Souls of Black Folk. (1903; U.S.A: Dover Publications, Inc., 1994). Foner E. The Story of America Freedom. (1998; G.B: Mackays of Chatham plc., 2000). Herr M. Dispatches. (London: Picador, 1998). Lee M. Dictionary of North American History. (G.B: Larousse, 1994). Louvre A. and Walsh J. Tell Me Lies About Vietnam. (G.B: Open University Press, 1988). Quart L. and Auster A. American Film and Society since 1945. (U.S.A: Praeger, 1994). Palmer M. “Seconds Out”, The Times Magazine, 29/12/2001. Ralston I. American Studies Today. (U.K: American Studies Resources Centre, Liverpool John Moores University, 2003). Schaller M., Scharff V., Schulzinger R. Present Tense. (U.S.A: Houghton Mifflin Company, Inc., 1996). Sternlieb G., and Hughes J. Post Industrial America: Metropolitan Decline and Inter-Regional Job Shifts. (New Brunswick: Centre for Urban Policy Research, 1976). Woodiwiss A. Postmodernity U.S.A: The Crisis of Social Modernism in Postwar America, (G.B: Cromwell Press Ltd, 1993). Maycock J. War Within War, http: //www.guardian.co.uk/Archive/A rticle /0,4273,4256062,00.html, (15/9/2001), 11/6/2004. Woodland J. “How did Participation in America`s Wars affect Black Americans?”, http://www.americansc.org.uk/W oodland.htm,(18/11/2001), 10/12/2004 Encyclopaedia Britannica. (CDROM). U.K: 2001. 21 Letters from New York By Lenny Quart Our regular correspondent from New York has sent us a further selection of letters giving his unique take on life in the Big Apple. Altman’s Oscar Night I regularly watch the Oscars, though I usually fall asleep before the final awards are handed out. The ceremony can feel interminable, given acceptance speeches that are filled with the endless thank-yous Oscar winners tender their parents, wives and children, and the countless people connected with the making of the film, including agents, hairdressers and lawyers. What also irks me are: the 48 expensive advertising spots that sometimes look like they are competing for Oscars; the compensatory awards to make-up artists, costume designers, art directors for undeserving big budget films that usually win little else; the elaborate musical numbers where the sets and special effects overwhelm the bland songs; and the habitually pointless montages of Hollywood classics that give us little sense of the character of the films. But there are always a few high points during the evening. The Daily Show host Jon Stewart’s master of ceremony’s dry, sarcastic, clever, and subversive humour was an apt antidote to Hollywood self-promotion and sentimentality. Stewart is no Billy Crystal, who as eight-time Oscar MC conveyed warmth, quick wit, and the feeling of somebody totally at home in the show biz world. But, though Stewart may not be as comfortable with the Hollywood community as the less subtle Crystal, he seemed at ease on the stage, sufficiently confident to wittily deflate Hollywood’s liberal pretensions and smugness, and, at the same time, make a funny crack at Vice President’s Cheney’s expense. It probably wasn’t Stewart’s sharpest performance, but while being civil and controlled, his trademark irreverence was intact. I also liked the fact that a number of the year’s best picture nominees— like Good Night and Good Luck, Brokeback Mountain, and Crash —were small budget, limited box office films that dealt with a variety of politically controversial issues without being crude polemics. And if none of them were transcendent, risktaking works of art, they were all generally intelligent, extremely well acted, and stylish. For me the evening’s apotheosis was Lily Tomlin and Meryl Streep’s introducing Robert Altman in the freewheeling, overlapping dialogue-style of his films. Like Sidney Lumet, last year’s honoree, Altman is a stillworking octogenarian (his latest film A Prairie Home Companion will be out soon) who has had a luminous and prolific career— directing 37 films in a career that spans more than 50 years. But despite having received five Academy Award nominations for best director, he — like Hitchcock and Scorsese (a testimony to Hollywood’s aesthetic obtuseness)— has never won an Oscar. Altman is a visionary, iconoclast and Hollywood outsider who has made such fine films as M*A*S*H, The Player, Short Cuts, Thieves Like Us, and Gosford Park, and great ones like Nashville, McCabe and Mrs. Miller and The Long Goodbye. He has had his failures—the egregious Prêt-à-Porter and the pretentious Quintet among others, but Altman has produced a body of films that compares favourably with the work of illustrious contemporaries like Scorsese, Coppola, and the late John Cassavetes. Altman, in his best films, emphasized behaviour rather than plot and exposition, used a great deal of improvisation, and packed his films with dazzling and intricate aural effects and visual images. His open-ended, dynamically cut films also often parodied and inverted Hollywood genre conventions (e.g., the western, film noir, and the armed service comedy), and his work was trenchantly satirical and critical of American mainstream values and institutions. In his masterpiece, Nashville 22 (1975), for example, Altman interweaves twenty-four characters that either are already top country and western music performers or who are obsessed with getting their big chance. The country and western stars are manipulative, vain, and hysterical—driven by crowd applause and having a successful careers— while the public’s behaviour towards them ranges from breathless adulation to petulance and rage. Altman succeeds in creating a country and music milieu that becomes a metaphor for an image-driven, callous American society—a chaotic din where everybody is struggling for their version of a gold record. The film also includes an invisible, pseudo-populist presidential candidate who prophetically seeks national moral renewal by promoting nostalgia and bumptious iconoclasm. The candidate’s new political party is all image without substance: young female boosters and a sound truck hawking the vagaries of a platform the same way record albums are hyped over the opening credits. Though Hollywood may be a more sophisticated, politically liberal universe than Nashville, it shares many of its attributes. And in a film like The Player (1992), Altman’s keen satirical eye extended from the world of country and western music to the movie business’ mores and manners. With great flair Altman assembled a Hollywood of amoral studio executives—men and women devoid of even a scintilla of integrity and loyalty— whose commitments, despite their artistic posturing, never go The New York Post W hen I was growing up, my father and many other Jewish working and lower middle class people like himself treated The New York Post as their political Bible. In those years it was a tabloid, owned by a wealthy, politically liberal, Dorothy Schiff. Despite emphasizing scandal and human interest stories, the paper boasted a lively sports page, some distinctive columnists like the elegant and ironic enemy of cant and political and economic privilege, Murray Kempton, and passionate liberal ones like Mary McGrory, and its courageous chief editor, James Wechsler. It also had literate streetwise reporters like Pete Hamill, some unique comic strips like Pogo and Mary Worth, and a hardhitting, if unsubtle, political cartoonist—Herblock. But the city began to change by the 70s, and the sons and daughters of its working class readership had either moved up the social class ladder and begun to read The New York Times, or left the metropolitan area altogether. And those who remained embedded in the working class had moved politically to the right on many issues, just as the city itself became more psychically enthralled with people who lived high or were famous—turning away from its socially committed ethos of earlier decades. The Post also had lost its edge— becoming much duller— and it was losing money. Consequently, Schiff sold the paper to Australian media baron Rupert Murdoch in 1977. Murdoch gradually turned the Post into what it looks like today—a right wing scandal sheet with bold, catchy headlines (its most memorable, ”Headless Body in Topless Bar”), a great many celebrity gossip columns, and scoop-driven, politically slanted news coverage where the dis- beyond the bottom line. In Altman’s version of Hollywood there is no magic— just crass manipulation. Given Altman’s critically caustic take on Hollywood, he clearly has never been their favourite son. Still, though somewhat frail, he was up there on stage this time to accept his Oscar. His manner neither sentimental nor arrogant, he simply stated with consummate dignity that he felt fortunate that he never had to make a film he didn’t choose to direct. And that he never tired of making films. Altman deserved every bit of the long ovation he received. If Hollywood had more directors like him—men and women who make personal, formally adventurous, socially corrosive films— it would be a far more incandescent, far less superficial place. tinction between reportage and opinion is blurred. The New York Post has an honoured history. It is one of the oldest newspapers still published in the United States. Alexander Hamilton founded it in 1801 as The New York Evening Post, a broadsheet quite unlike today's tabloid, and its most famous 19th-century editor was the poet William Cullen Bryant, a strong Abolitionist and defender of free speech. And from 1883 on, its editor was a reform Republican, E. L. Godkin, who relentlessly attacked Tammany Hall, describing its leaders as “dive-keepers” and “pugilists.” Today the Post’s style and substance is far removed from its august 19th century ancestor. The Post also loses a great deal of money, but Murdoch (who is chief executive of News Corp., that owns the Fox Broadcasting Company, Twentieth Century Fox and many other media outlets in the U.S. and abroad) has big pockets and is engaged in a newspaper war with the city’s other tabloid, The Daily News, 23 owned by billionaire real estate developer, Mortimer B. Zuckerman. Most big U.S. cities have only a single daily, but New York is the exception—it has four. The News remains much the stronger paper financially (its advertising revenues are much greater), but in the last five years the Post boosted its average weekday circulation by 49%, to 686,207 papers. And the Post is going all out to destroy its tabloid competitor by lowering its newsstand price to 25 cents, as well as building a new $250 million printing plant that has greatly improved the paper's look. Scanning the Post the last few weeks it’s clear that its appeal rests much more in its sensational coverage of crime, sex, accidents, natural disasters and the foibles of the famous (“Jude [Law] Woos Sienna”) than in its conservative politics. A couple of weeks ago I picked up the paper and the front page carried a headline “Wasted”, and beneath it a large colour photo of a beautiful co-ed who died of a drug overdose on the Lower East Side. Inside the paper there is a story about a “randy” 79year-old rector at St. Patrick’s Cathedral who had an affair with his married aide, another about John Gotti’s prison conversations, and a salacious gossip item about the underwear that Westchester DA, and Republican Senatorial candidate, Jeanine Pirro, buys. On another day there is a gruesome piece about a thug with AIDs who spat blood on the cops who arrested him. The paper’s columnists include the sinister Robert Novak and the insidious inside-dopester Richard Morris—the ex-Clinton adviser whose columns now regularly bash the Clintons and other Democrats. Other columnists also adhere closely to a conservative line. Even gossip columnist, Cindy Adams, derided Jane Fonda for being “born with a silver hoof in the mouth” because of her anti-Iraq war statements. And on any given day the editorials will predictably support Wal-Mart against demands for more generous employee health insurance and, without a hint of em- A New York News stand about 1900 barrassment, ask the Democratic candidates for New York’s mayor to take “notice of the extraordinary service” George W provided the city after 9/11 instead of attacking him. The Post paradoxically is both anti-elitist, and loves big money tycoons when they are on top, and supports legislation that only gives aid and comfort to the wealthy and corporations. (Come to think of it, a large swathe of the American public shares those same contradictory impulses.) Despite his right wing conservative agenda, Murdoch is pragmatic enough to support Tony Blair and on alternate days say nice things about Hillary. He likes winners, and takes care to keep on the good side of those who hold power. Though I personally find the Post repellent, Murdoch has created a skilfully seductive tabloid built on the notion that a public that is primarily interested in sensation and titillation may, at the same time, absorb some of the hard right politics that the paper incessantly promotes. 24 Public Life Most of us live with a number of personal frustrations and miseries, but the city always offers innumerable activities, sensations, and pleasures that allow one the chance to escape for a time. Clearly, one of the city's strongest assets is that its public world provides the kind of solace that can, at least temporarily, cauterise one's private pain. For example, in the last month my wife and I ate at two elegant restaurants during New York Restaurant Week - two winter weeks where, as a promotion, some of the best of the city restaurants offer three-course prixfixe menus for lunch or dinner at prices people of ordinary means can afford. Our normal style is to eat out at reasonably priced ethnic restaurants that offer good food, but make little fuss about their service or how they look. So I'm a bit wary of eating at a restaurant like Danny Meyer's (also of Union Square Cafe fame) Gramercy Tavern that has extremely attentive and knowing waitresses and waiters, that serves inventive, subtly flavoured food displayed like a carefully composed work of art (e.g., a dessert of passion fruit sorbet on top of coconut tapioca), and that has a warm, inviting rustic-style decor. I was put at ease, however, by the fact that the diners at the surrounding tables weren't formally dressed and exuded neither wealth nor hauteur, but were a comfortable mix of Japanese tourists, retired secretaries, schoolteachers and academics, and young corporate executives and students. Eating at Gramercy Tavern was pleasurable, but given my usual ascetic lunches of farmer cheese, nonfat yoghurt, and fruit, I felt the food and accompanying sauces were much too rich for me to indulge in more than once or twice a year. On another afternoon we visited NYU's Grey Art Gallery, located on 100 Washington Square East that offers four to six art exhibits (Diane Arbus: Family Albums) a year. Their latest, The Downtown Show: The New York Art Scene 1974-84, from January 10 to April 1, 2006, displays the work of 175 painters, sculptors, photographers, musicians, performers, filmmakers, and writers who could afford the now inconceivable low rents of SoHo lofts and Lower East Side tenements. Downtown artists bridged the gap between high art and mass culture; they removed avantgarde art from isolation in elite circles, and directly confronted social and political concerns. It was a world of ferment and experimentation, and the gallery is filled with posters, photographs, paintings, videos, and books and magazines from the era. I don't have great affinity for most of the art exhibited, but still there were a number of original, raw, and subversive works that pushed the limits of traditional artistic categories, and grew on me with repeated viewings. But if one's intellectual and artistic predilections are not so avant-garde - like mine - the city offers a plethora of lectures and symposiums (most of them free) almost every night of the week at the 92nd Street Y, Cooper Union, the CUNY Grad Center on 365 Fifth Avenue (e.g., this spring Joan Didion reads from her latest book and Arthur Schlesinger Jr. is on a panel on Jacksonian Democracy) and the New York public library, among other places. Having spent my professional life lecturing and taking part in symposiums, I don't usually feel an urge to attend lectures. But one evening I did go with a friend to the 42nd Street Library to listen, with a great many other white-haired people, to a number of writers and critics perceptively and, at moments, eloquently discuss the work of Henry Roth on his centenary. Roth was the author of one of the masterpieces of American literature, Call it Sleep - a mixture of Joycean modernism and richly textured urban realism. He also wrote, after six decades of silence, Mercy of a Rude Stream, an autobiographical quartet of novels that depicts, in a more direct but less literary writing style, his painful coming of age in the Harlem of the teens and twenties. There are also more active ways to enter the city's life than by going to a restaurant or attending a lecture. I always have my city walks. So one morning, the streets still packed with mounds of snow and grey slush, I trudged from my apartment towards the meatpacking district, located near the Hudson River in the northwest corner of Greenwich Village. It was once home to 250 slaughterhouses and meatpacking plants, but is now filled with a hip young crowd (e.g., actors, models) and with clubs, high-end fashion designers, the ultra- chic luxury Hotel Gansevoort, and a spacious, handsome bistro like Pastis that serve them. One can only be hopeful that the meatpacking district's recent designation as a protected historic area will preserve what is left of its distinctive cobblestone streets, brick facades, metal awnings, and remaining meatpacking plants. It was merely a walk, but for the moment it made me happy-just as the rest of the city's public life acts as a balm to those who are able to open themselves up to its infinite delights. 25 News and Events from the ASRC Pittsburgh journalist launches link with Liverpool students Report by Helen Tamburro I n March the American Studies Resource Centre was host to US journalist and broadcaster Dr. Ezekiel Mobley and his wife Dr. Cathy Grabowski, Director of Channel 21 Community TV in Pittsburgh and Administrator at the University of Pittsburgh. Dr. Mobley, a journalist for the African Times newspaper, delivered a lecture entitled, Issues of Latin American and African American Relations in the US today seen through the prism of the ‘Memin Pinguin’ controversy, following last year’s race row between Mexico and the US caused by a Mexican commemorative stamp. The controversial image of a traditional Mexican cartoon figure from the 1950s, Memin Pinguin, led to Jesse Jackson and President Bush denouncing the stamp when it was published by the Mexican government. The stamp depicted a black cartoon character with exaggerated thick lips and big eyes. Mexico’s President Fox defended the comic strip as a fundamental part of Mexican cultural life. Ian Ralston, Director of the American Studies Centre, explained: “It’s hard to imagine a Royal Mail commemorative series stirring up such an international crisis but the publication of the Memin Pinguin stamps did just that because they are such offensive racist caricatures.” During the lecture, Dr Mobley reflected on why Mexico’s black population and black history is Ezekiel and Kathy with Helen Tamburro barely represented. Some commentators speculate that this could be the result of Mexico’s longstanding drive to eliminate ethnic distinctions and build up a national identity based on the idea of ‘mestizaje’ or mixed race. Ian Ralston commented, “Most Mexicans are loyal to a traditional concept of mestizaje that by definition denies the existence and importance of black people in their country. It’s not surprising then that this has put them on a crash course with leading figures such as the Reverend Jesse Jackson as well as the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People in the US.” Dr. Mobley and Dr. Grabowski were in the country for a few days and Dr. Mobley spoke passionately about the city, “Liverpool is tremendous! For Americans the great fame of the Beatles is always an attraction, but it also reminds me of my own mother, a well-known activist from New York. She loved the social and political views expressed through Lennon’s music. I am also fascinated by Liverpool’s compelling black history - it was of course the centre of the British slave trade and during the American Civil War, the Confederate States maintained an embassy in Liverpool, the only diplomatic post in England.” Dr. Mobley and Dr. Grabowski also visited Toxteth TV, a community station training young adults in television production, and both found the visit to be a valuable experience, “Toxteth TV is an amazing facility and a fulfilling experience for the 26 young adults in training. I’m awed that the station receives supervision directly from the British Ministry of Education and over £1.8 million was spent on construction and development. I hope that training the variety of students will lead to truly gainful employment and I say that because in the States at times we have superficial feel-good social programs that appear to tackle employment problems but don’t ultimately lead to meaningful, long-term jobs and progress for people.” The American visitors were also highly impressed by the Toxteth students, ‘‘They were very highly motivated and I applaud the instructors, particularly Sue Scott, for their willingness to work hard for the success of the local community. I was also thrilled by the Q & A session organised by the students. They showed a keen hunger for information and a perspective from the US.” Dr. Mobley was happy to comment on the similarities and differences between Toxteth TV and their US counterpart, Pittsburgh Community TV (PCTV), “They are similar in that PCTV provides a local news and fea- ture outlet and a platform for views and opinions that are not frequently covered by other stations. We also give in-depth training on equipment and students learn to produce shows. Differences may be found in approach and concentration. For example, Toxteth TV has a strong focus on training students from the community college to prepare them for employment, whereas PCTV focuses more on the community based broadcasting aspect.” Since their visit to Liverpool, Dr. Mobley and his wife have established a solid link between the two television stations. I asked what their hopes and aims were for this relationship and how beneficial they thought it would be for those involved on both sides of the Atlantic in terms of cross-cultural understanding. “As soon as I returned to the US I initiated informal talks with our Community College of Allegheny County (CCAC) faculty about forging a joint relationship with Toxteth TV to include media product exchange (film and TV shows) and therefore utilising the media of both stations, in a context of combining TV production, ‘streaming video’ and ultimately sharing curriculum and perhaps students between Liverpool Community College and CCAC. Both PCTV and Toxteth TV staff and students will gain enormous benefit, training and perspectives from cultures in both countries to see how the other side works.” Toxteth students produced several mini productions for PCTV which were aired in the US in April. Local news is also big news and can often be more relevant to people because of its direct impact in a local area. This is particularly true of the American media, such is the vastness of the country. I asked Dr. Mobley for his thoughts on the issue. “You’re exactly right! Reemphasis on local news and valuing the local perspective is important. The curative process that is local news reminds us that ‘the little people’ can make big things happen too! In the US there’s an old saying, All politics is local and standing up for these goals ensures that our democratic way of life remains robust and vital.” We regret to announce that, following complications after minor surgery, Dr Mobley died on 10th June.—eds. Schools Conference 2007 The Depression, Hoover, Roosevelt and the New Deal A one-day conference for A-Level and Access students of American Government and Politics, American History and Media Studies. Wednesday January 24th 2007 Topics will include: Hoover and the Depression; How Successful was the New Deal; Roosevelt, Congress and the Supreme Court; Chronicling the Depression through the music of Woody Guthrie. (This will include live performances of songs of the period.) Booking forms will be sent out in late November or check the ASRC web site (www.americansc.org.uk) for details and booking form. 27 We stopped at Perfect Days Jeanne-Marie holds exhibition in Liverpool AS Today welcomes the return to Liverpool of an old friend of the Centre, the artist JeanneMarie Kenny. She recently had an exhibition of her work at the Arena Studios in Liverpool with the title “We stopped at Perfect Days”. She works in a variety of genres, and the exhibition showed a great deal of imagination. The colours were vibrant and exciting, and the compositions showed an excellent sense of form. Jeanne-Marie is a master of a wide variety of styles and genres, and the overall effect was very pleasing. She writes this about it. This body of work spans the past 3 years and includes paintings, drawings, and photographs. The title of the exhibition is from a poem by Richard Brautigan which alludes to a moment in time or a pleasant memory from the past. In my approach to making art, I transform mundane images that are produced for specific purposes (usually advertising) into glimpses into an alternative dream world. Like Brautigan’s writing, my art is based in reality Where the World Was New by Jeanne-Marie Kenny but is also quietly surreal. The work mainly includes figurative paintings in oil on canvas. The imagery revolves around women in various settings and derives from men’s magazines, hair ads, old Viewmaster reels, and my own photographs. Also included are pen & ink drawings, digital illustrations as well as digital photographs from an ongoing series all of which fit in with the overall theme of ‘femininity as performance.’ 28 British Association for American Studies Teachers and Schools Awards 2006 As part of its far ranging commitment to promote the study of the USA at all levels of education, three awards specifically aimed at teachers and students in sixth form colleges and schools were presented at this year’s British Association for American Studies (BAAS) conference at the University of Kent at Canterbury on 21st April. The winner of the Ambassador’s Schools Essay Prize was Jessica Edwards of Loreto College in Manchester for her essay on Lyndon Johnson and the Great Society. Jessica was presented with a certificate of merit and a cheque for £250 by the US Ambassador to the UK, Robert Holmes Tuttle. (see photo.) The recipients of the two Teachers Fellowships, made by BAAS in conjunction with the Thomas Jefferson Foundation (TJF) and Kathryn and Jessica showing off their certificates the International Center for Jefferson Studies (ICJS), were John Siblon of City of Islington College, who received the Monticello-Stratford Hall award and Kathryn Cooper of Loreto College Manchester, who was awarded the Barringer Fellowship. Both John and Kathryn will be based in Virginia. John will be spending two weeks working alongside American teachers at Stratford Hall, while Kathryn will be researching and putting together teaching materials on Thomas Jefferson and American history at the Moticello Center. These materials would then be made available to all UK teachers who have an interest in this area of study, or who are directly involved with its teaching. A total of twenty-eight awards were presented at the confer- ence, ranging from schools to postgraduate. It is hoped that all of these awards and fellowships will be available in future years John Siblon and that BAAS’s continued support for the school and college sector will continue to go from strength to strength. For further details, and how to apply in 2007, check the BAAS web site at www.baas.ac.uk/ awards/awards.asp Advertisement AMERICAN INDIAN LECTURES Topics include history from 1492 to the present. The lectures last about 45 minutes with 15 minutes Q&A. For information contact Mr. C. L. Henson Jessica Edwards receiving her prize from the US Ambassador [email protected]. 29 Book Reviews Literature A Routledge Literary Sourcebook on Herman Melville’s Moby-Dick, edited by Michael J. Davey (New York: Routledge, 2004) ISBN 0-415-24771-3. List price $26.95. Reviewed by Natalie Aldred, Bath Spa University. This is one of Routledge’s more recent instalments in a series which seeks to contextualise key literary texts. This specific sourcebook looks at Moby-Dick; or The Whale, first published in 1851 and written by Herman Melville (1819 – 1891). It is meant for the first-time reader of Melville’s text, but is also intentionally accessible to a range of student ages from school to undergraduate level. Through its less orthodox avenues, presenting the reader with a staggering amount of contemporary reviews, criticism, and context, this sourcebook has much higher aims than most other student ‘guides’ to literary texts. Unfortunately, this does have a slightly detrimental effect: some of the critical essays picked were, quite clearly, originally written for a scholarly audience, possessing language which is therefore outside the grasp of some students (‘the Melville of MobyDick discerns in Jefferson’s two arch-principles of inalienable rights and consent an unresolved tension’). However this greater degree of sophistication, coupled with the presentation of the sourcebook as a sometimes Reader - down to giving a brief contextual overview of each critical essay - means that it also serves as an excellent preliminary resource for both the academic and the scholar. As a consequence, however, the aims of the sourcebook are slightly contradictory, presenting itself as a legitimate and necessary read to audiences with conflicting requirements. Nonetheless, although a text of this length could never expect to be an over-arching authority, what is here is concise, interesting, and extremely informative for all readers. The sourcebook is a fresh and inviting look at an otherwise well-studied and frequently cited literary text, drawing together a slightly paradigmatic but nonetheless much-needed set of contextual apparatus. Thus it is divided into four obvious parts: contexts, interpretations (which provide the reader with early and ‘modern’ criticism), key passages from Moby-Dick, and suggested further reading. The section on contexts is a very patient and accumulative look at surrounding historical issues, from America’s antebellum period to documents which highlight Melville’s struggle to write MobyDick. The critical essays are just varied enough to give a taste of the shift in perceptions and literary preoccupations of the twentieth-century (a ‘narrative history’ as Davey calls it), providing the reader with extracts designed to prompt one into further reading, not do all the work by re-printing entire essays (Davey has pre-empted one potential problem by ensuring that all extracts, including those from the earliest date of 1919, are still in print today). My only major concern with the scope of the modern criticism is that it stops short at 1998: this silently suggests – incorrectly - that critical attention has recently turned to other areas of American studies, shunning a text which Routledge otherwise calls ‘central’ and ‘powerful’. The section on key passages is a predictable way of approaching student-orientated guides – it is here that the more advanced reader may wince, but will perhaps feel comforted by Davey’s assurances that the passages ‘have been selected because […] critics have returned to [them] time and again when discussing Moby-Dick no matter what the discussion or methodology.’ The further reading gives a varied and annotated account of the available publishings on both Melville and Moby-Dick, although, once again, some of Davey’s comments are at odds with the more specific intentions of the series, as the sources cited give frequent indications that, upon compilation, Davies predominantly had in mind academics, scholars, and the more advanced students. This is an exciting text crammed with useful sources and information, even finding room for Melville’s own voice through letters to his peers, and would not be out of place on the bookshelf of any reader recently acquainted with Moby-Dick, from the student to the literary scholar. Tim Hunt (ed.), The Selected Poetry of Robinson Jeffers (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2001) ISBN: 0804741085 £21.50 Reviewed by Lucy Le Guilcher The last edition of Robinson Jeffers’s poetry was published in 1938, and Tim 30 Hunt uses this fact as his justification for publishing the present version. The inclusion of later work, unpublished poems, prose pieces, and the ‘Foreward’ to the 1938 edition written by Jeffers himself, makes this edition different to its predecessor. Consequently, this publication – to use Hunt’s own words – results in ‘a broader, more accurate representation of Jeffers’s career’ (2). Indeed the outcome is an edition spanning Jeffers’s entire literary career, which enables the reader to see the developments in Jeffers’s poetry. The ‘Introduction’ is a useful entrance into the study of Robinson Jeffers, giving a concise – yet informative – account of his life and work. Hunt discusses Jeffers’s work in relation to other poets – for example Wordsworth – and Hunt moves between the public and private spheres of Jeffers’s life giving a three-dimensional as opposed to two-dimensional analysis. Hunt has selected Jeffers’s poetry judiciously, and the result is a collection which demonstrates the versatility and complexity of Robinson Jeffers’s work. The selection enables the reader to build up a picture of Robinson Jeffers’s interests and motivations; his viewpoints, morals and beliefs are built up through the recurrent themes within this particular selection, one being the unreliability of life as opposed to the reliability of death. The selection enforces the seriousness of Jeffers’s work: he is not a humorous poet, and his work is laden with meaning. Jeffers’s ambiguous moral position is highlighted through his use of imagery which fluctuates between the beautiful and the horrific, causing the reader too, to fluctuate in their opinion of his poetry. Jeffers’s poetry aligns itself with other American ecocritical literature and thinking which despises any traces of humanity in the natural world. Jeffers’s political agenda within the poetry clearly emphasises that human actions have permanent repercussions on the natural world – a theme explored in his collection ‘Dear Judas’. In this selection Jeffers’s belief in the importance of the natural world and the harm humanity cause is undeniable. An example of this is Jeffers’s poem ‘The Excesses of God’, which centres on the beauty of the world from the grand ‘Rainbows over the rain’, to the minute ‘secret rainbows/ On the domes of deep sea-shells’ (17). Jeffers is a poet whose work has to be close read: his poetry is full of imagery and symbolism that needs to be untangled by the reader, enforcing Hunt’s assertion that Jeffers is ‘a visionary poet’ (8). This emphasis on close-reading highlights Jeffers’s suitability to being studied in all aspects of academia: as an A-level student, an undergraduate, a post-graduate, or a lecturer aiming to integrate new authors into new or already established modules. Furthermore, the inclusion of sections of Jeffers’s prose and other critical writing in this selection enables the reader to make comparisons between the different modes of writing, and is also a great teaching aid. The title, however, is slightly misleading: this volume includes work other than poetry, and the title fails to signify this. Unless a potential reader looked at the contents page or back cover they would remain unaware of the diversity of this edition, and undoubtedly, this is one of the publication’s strengths. This selection is suitable for any reader interested in Robinson Jeffers. It can be kept on a bookshelf and just taken down now and again, or it can be used extensively for teaching purposes. The Cambridge Companion to Native American Literature. Edited by Joy Porter and Kenneth M. Roemer Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005) 343 pages. ISBN: 0-521-52979-4 Reviewed by Elizabeth Rosen While Native Americans have been contributing to written literature from as early as 1772, Native American Studies, as codified by the academy, is only about thirty years old, and the formal entry of Native American literature into the university canon is even more recent. No surprise, then, that Cambridge University Press has now stepped in to provide the Cambridge Companion to Native American Literature. Companion volumes can do one of several things: act as dictionary/encyclopedias about a complicated topic, provide further critical analysis of an established topic, or give a wide overview of a topic. The Cambridge Companion chooses to do the latter, and it manages to do this very successfully. An initial and embarrassing comma-splice stumble in the first sentence of the book soon resolves itself into a conscientiously considered and well-edited introductory book on Native American literature(s). Editors Porter and Roemer have divided the volume into three sections: ‘Historical and cultural contexts’, ‘Genre contexts’, and a section on ‘Individual authors’. Of these, it is the first section on historical and cultural contexts, which shines. Roemer’s introduction is especially good: thoughtful, comprehensive, and cognizant of the complexities of 31 his topic. The introduction not only discusses the limitations of studying a ‘literature’ of which the written portion is the smaller part (much Native American ‘literature’ occurs in an oral, rather than written form), it also raises problems of mediation/ translation; how to label this literature; the lumping together of an enormous diversity of tribes under one heading; and even whether there is a group of shared traits in these texts which justify studying them under one rubric. For each of these complex issues, Roemer provides a clear explanation of both the debates and current practices, as well as the editors’ rationale for following certain customs throughout the volume. Joy Porter’s essay on ‘Historical and cultural contexts to Native American literature’ is equally concise, giving an excellent overview of the history of Indian policy, the Native American response to it, the kinds of expression traditionally used in response, and the intersection of all these. The one thing left out is a discussion of the problem of translating an oral tradition into a written form, but David Murray’s very fine essay, ‘Translation and mediation’ takes up exactly this question. Raising issues such as agency and authorship, Murray declines to locate the debate in the more obvious question of who qualifies as a Native writer and instead concentrates on the linguistic and theoretical elements of the subject. Adopting a neutral stance himself, Murray simply enumerates the points of conflicts, listing arguments and counter-arguments for different parts of the debate. Both the Genre and Individual Authors sections of the volume are ably, usually admirably, written. If there is a problem with the Genre section it is that we are in the early days of building this canon and thus many of the essays repeat the same information in their efforts to provide context for their own topics of non-fiction, life-writing, poetry, fiction and theatre. Part III includes essays on all the major players thus far. These chapters not only give the biographic and bibliographic details of each author, but also discuss the major themes with which each is concerned. If there is any shortcoming in these essays it is that so few deal with the critical work which has been done on each of these writers, an oversight which could easily have been corrected in the Further Reading section which concludes the volume, but wasn’t. The Cambridge Companion won’t help anyone who wants to learn details such as what the Ghost Dance or Trickster is, but it will provide a very thorough and thoughtful overview to the subject of Native American writing, the complexities of its study, and the major authors who comprise its current canon. The Cambridge Companion to Theodore Dreiser (Cambridge Companions to Literature) edited by Leonard Cassuto and Clare Virginia Eby Cambridge, UK; New York: Cambridge University Press, February 12, 2004 ISBN 0-521-89465-4 pp. 258 $29.25 Reviewed by Jude Davies, University of Winchester. Novelist, journalist, playwright, and political activist, Theodore D r e i s e r (1871-1945) is best known for two novels, Sister Carrie (1900), the story of a country girl who makes good in the big city and the downfall of her middle-class lover, and An American Tragedy (1925) a three-volume bestseller chronicling the effects of Ameri- can success ideology on the impressionable Clyde Griffiths: the drowning of his pregnant girlfriend and his execution in the electric chair. Dreiser emerges from Cassuto and Eby’s collection as a key writer on modernity in America, and has a good claim to attract and retain the interest of students of America and of modernity more generally. This is the third collection of essays on Dreiser to appear since the reshaping of literary studies by cultural studies and critical theory. Miriam Gogol’s 1995 collection Theodore Dreiser: Beyond Naturalism reflected the increasing emphasis on gender in literary studies, while also sketching out approaches to Dreiser’s work from a variety of theorised perspectives. Theodore Dreiser and American Culture: New Readings, edited by Yoshinobu Haku- tani (2000) offered a more lengthy and diverse introduction to the Dreiser oeuvre, emphasising the most frequently taught novel, Sister Carrie, and also covering previously obscure aspects and unfamiliar work. The focus of this new collection is squarely on the major novels, Sister Carrie and An American Tragedy, contextualised by reference to Dreiser’s other writings, and supplemented by discussion of the ‘Trilogy of Desire’. The contributors find interesting perspectives on the major contemporary themes in Dreiser criticism: the impact of modernity on selfhood and society; desire; consumption; and the equation between people and commodities. The essays focus on themes (rather than on specific texts or theories), which are clearly announced by their titles – ‘Dreiser and the history of American longing’; ‘Dreiser and women’; ‘Dreiser, class and the home’. Taken as a whole, the collection places Dreiser squarely at the centre of major tensions in American culture – class and social mobility, gender and ‘race’, and debates over idealism and materialism. 32 It is invidious to select from the uniformly insightful essays, but brief reference to two, ‘Dreiser’s style’ by Paul Giles, and Bill Brown’s ‘The matter of Dreiser’s modernity,’ will illustrate Dreiser’s centrality to debates over modernity in America. Returning to the oldest chestnut in Dreiser criticism, Giles reads the clash between Dreiser’s realist style and mystical tendencies as mediating between material and spiritual understandings of the world, between the world of commodities and the world of consciousness. Brown concerns himself with similar tensions, but where Giles emphasises Dreiser’s oblique, ‘aslant’ view of dominant American ideology, Brown argues that dominant American culture has been good at integrating the ideal and the material, and that Dreiser too strives to ‘dramatize modernity as a spiritual plight.’ The debate will continue, fuelled by this excellent and accessible book. No Mentor But Myself: Jack London on Writing and Writers, Edited by Dale Walker 2nd Edition Stanford University Press Hardcover - March 1999 ISBN 0804736367 £16.50 Reviewed Bennett by Jenny Elliott- An informative, detailed and interesting introduction leads well into the collected material. The forty-three collected pieces in the first edition of No Mentor But Myself: Jack London on Writing and Writers have been here extended literally, and explicated further, by the addition of twenty-four new entries in this, the expanded second edition. Of this additional material, three pieces are here published for the first time. “Two Letters To Charles Warren Stoddard (19001901)”, from page 218, and “Letter To ‘Mr. Revision Editor’ (Woman’s Home Companion) (February 5, 1902)”, from page 210. The literary selection here has been chosen to represent what the Editors call London’s “three broad general categories” of “the writing business, the work ethic, and mentorship” (xiv). As with the first edition, the main body of material is arranged thematically in accordance with these subjects, and presented chronologically. The new material is added at the end, and, though not in chronological order, it does continue with the thematic order. Header notes for each chapter elucidate the practical questions relating to each letter or group of letters, explaining in what circumstances they were written, to whom and what role the recipient(s) took in London’s life. Annoyingly, too often these notes go on to dissolve into unnecessary reiterations of what has come before in the Introduction. London was an unconventional man who led an unconventional life. He travelled widely and was, at various times, a labourer, an illegal oyster pirate, an officer of the California Fish Patrol, a sailor, a homeless drifter, a prison inmate, a street corner speaker, a socialist party member, a gold prospector, a journalist, a war correspondent, a writer, a designer and builder of ships, and a rancher. In collecting pieces of his day-to-day correspondence, it would be impossible to produce an uninteresting book. This material is very worthwhile reading in its own right. As with his great literary works, these letters reflect his socialistic criticisms and ideologies, his concerns with innumerable and varied “issues of community”, and his love of the natural world, whilst documenting the life of a writer and his philosophies on writing profes- sionally. The Editors provide a useful and interesting Chronology of London’s life, and their Bibliography doubles as a Suggested Readings list. This extended book is at once a literary-biographical tool for students, an education for writers, a sociology lesson, and a very, very good read. Culture The Cambridge Companion to American Modernism edited by Walter Kalaidjian (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2005) Paperback, £16.99 ISBN: 0521536804; pp 358 Reviewed by Colin Harrison, Liverpool John Moores University The resurgence of interest in modernism continues – par ti cul arl y with respect to visual culture – but surveys specific to an American context have been somewhat scarce. Daniel Singal’s special issue of American Quarterly in 1987 (reprinted as Modernist Culture in America) is still one of the few to explore the different fields of American culture and society that modernism touched, while also addressing important issues to do with the relation between modernism and nationhood: how does a particular kind of modernism emerge in America, and how does a particular construction of America emerge in modernism? Walter Kalaidjian’s collection extends and updates these approaches, providing an invaluable introduction to the subject, and is likely to become a core text for many undergraduate programs. The Cambridge Companion to American Modernism is pre- 33 dominantly literary in focus: other artistic forms such as painting, music and cinema are treated but largely in the extent to which they inform the writing of the period. Kalaidjian states in his introduction that the aim is to map the “multiplicity, diversity, complexity, anarchy and chaos” (2) that characterises both the lived experience of modernity and its cultural expressions. If this seems quite a loose rationale for the book, it does accommodate the contributors’ various attempts to challenge embedded assumptions and open up the study of modernism to new material. Thus Rita Barnard offers a provocative new reading of modernist fiction by placing canonical novelists alongside lesser known writers such as Nathan Asch; Cary Nelson resists the priority given to Imagism in accounts of modern poetry, arguing that it is both more formally diverse than supposed and only one aspect of a broader poetic endeavour encompassing antiimperialist, feminist and proletarian writing; Mark Sanders likewise emphasises a “heterodox modernism” in which the New Negro Renaissance plays a more central part, and in which the preoccupation with alienation and epistemological crisis is offset against a more politically engaged project, rooted in pragmatism, seeking “to make real the promises of Reconstruction.” (154) The cumulative effect of these approaches is to give a renewed sense of a moment of unparalleled cultural activity radically different from the previous era, yet one whose own history is being continually reviewed and reinterpreted. As such, the book ought to prove stimulating both for new and more established students of the era. Given the emphasis on multiplicity and diversity, the least successful essays are those that cover a range of material at the expense of theorisation or synthesis. Marjorie Perloff’s account of the American avantgarde is overly biographical, and while it does examine the correspondence between literary and artistic experiment - through the creative exchanges between Stieglitz, Picabia, Stein, Williams and others - it does not entertain critical debates about the cultural significance of the avantgarde. To reflect on the passing of New York Dada with the vague words “a new ethos was in the air” (216) also seems an insufficient way to historicise the movement. Equally problematic is Paula Rabinowitz’s piece on modernism and the city: riffing on themes of density and mobility, her analogies between social life and literary form are too speculative, and her enthusiasm for a “pulp modernism” in which hierarchies between the experimental and vernacular, the exotic and familiar are broken down leads her to lose a grip on her terms of analysis (just what is and what isn’t modernist) - as the unhelpful label of Esther Bubley as a “modern (ist)” photographer illustrates. (270) The strongest essays are those that engage explicitly with theories of modernity or situate their material within a changing critical context – most notably Janet Lyon’s, which shows how gay and recent feminist perspectives have generated a more nuanced understanding of gender and sexuality in the modern period in the wake of Huyssen’s monolithic formulation of a feminised mass culture as modernism’s Other. Walter Benjamin is the dominant theoretical presence: both Rita Barnard and Michael North usefully take up from his claim that changes in the material world (in production, technology and space) produce changes in perception, while moving away from his melancholy emphasis on modernity as anomie and alienation. For me, North’s is the best piece here. Placing visual culture at the centre of modernism, he traces a tension between two competing “scopic regimes” – vision as a form of rationalisation, and a chaotic “frenzy of the visible” – evident in modern phenomena from train journeys to photography and cinema, and which ultimately informs modernism’s dual impulse towards synthesis on the one hand and a partial, embodied perspective on the other. In the process, he shows that avant-garde artists and writers are much better understood not to be repudiating popular culture but actively engaging with it to capture the delight and uncertainty of a world given over to representation. Elsewhere, it has to be said that theorists of modernity are somewhat thin on the ground – whether Benjamin’s Frankfurt colleagues in debate during the 1930s over the relations between aesthetics, politics and culture, or more contemporary figures like Jurgen Habermas, David Harvey, and Marshall Berman who have in different ways attempted to assess the legacies of the era. Postmodernism, indeed, hardly gets a mention. Clearly, the book aims to concentrate on literary history, but it seems a missed opportunity not to entertain some of these wider questions: has there been another paradigm shift since? Has the modernist project ‘failed’, to become little more than a degraded style, or can it be thought of as a continuing process of critique and renewal? Can such categories as ‘avantgarde’ or ‘mass culture’ be meaningfully applied today? While many of the essays in the collection do an impressive job of conveying the richness and complexity of the period itself, they underplay such matters and in doing so they arguably obscure its relationship, and that of modernism, to the present. 34 Suburban Xanadu: The Casino Resort on The Las Vegas Strip and Beyond by David G.Schwartz (New York: Routledge, 2003, £19.99, Pp xi + 242, ISBN 0-41593557-1) Reviewed by Joe Kennedy University of Sussex The academy’s view of Las Vegas has long been that of J e a n Baudrillar d in his America. We are inclined to think of it as a desertbound expression of the ‘pure baroque of Disneyland’, played out to the level of a (barely) real city, and as such inseparable from a sense of hyper-real superficiality that masks fragility and dissoluteness with neon and cash. Fictive representations have varied in their treatment, but the ability to see Vegas as the natural home of mob operations (Casino, 1995), the FBI’s biggest crime lab outside of its headquarters (CSI: Crime Scene Investigation, 2000) or even a solitary vampire preying on cocktail waitresses (The Night Stalker, 1972) lend it a decidedly Dionysian edge which is at first not easily reconcilable with the picket fences of American suburbia. By contrast Schwartz suggests that the suburbanization of the United States provides an interpretive framework through which to understand the development of Las Vegas resorts, as well as those in Atlantic City and on Indian land throughout the nation. We might, therefore, construct a line of development that begins not in Nevada at all, but with the 1920s rise of the private ownership of automobiles among the middle classes and the change to the structure of American cities that this precipitated, a change which the need to build homes for returning soldiers following WWII ensured would characterize the way America has grown and developed in the past sixty years, and the way its citizens understand their environments and are socialized. The casino resorts of Vegas developed, he tells us in his introduction and first chapter, along the highway southwest to Los Angeles, the road which was to become the ‘Strip’ of today, in a mimicry of suburban development of the time which created a virtual subdivision for Southern Californians to visit which was as convenient to drive to as their local strip-mall or drive-in theatre. The ‘suburban’ nature of the casino resorts along Las Vegas Boulevard is, for Schwartz, compounded by their nature as individual destinations, which strive to provide their guests with everything they need for their vacations in order to ensure that the majority of their guests’ disposable dollars are spent with them, rather than with their neighbours and other local businesses. This mirrors the building of the post-war exurban sprawl of ranch and colonial tract houses in which the majority of the bread and butter customers from whom the resorts made their money lived, entirely selfsufficient developments connected to one another by highways, not footpaths or public transportation. By 1975, the downtown Las Vegas of Fremont Street had begun to more closely resemble the sprawl of the strip than a conventional Central Business District, and the transformation of the modern gaming establishment into an incontrovertibly suburban and mall-like phenomenon, rather than a mere business on a city street, was confirmed, a trend which Schwartz sees echoed in the casinos of New Jersey, Connecticut and elsewhere. The great strength of this study lies in Schwartz’s ability to seamlessly blend the stories of American suburbanization and the Nevada, and later national, gaming industry. The many fact and figures, and architectural details which the book contains add to the seeming exhaustiveness of the analysis of the changing physical environment of the casino, and the transformation of the early oases among the dust and scrub of the Los Angeles highway into the staggering Disney-esque behemoths of today. It is extremely accessible for an academic study and deserves wide readership among those who study the twentieth century US, architectural history, and the postmodern condition. New York Sights, Visualizing Old and New by Douglas Tallack New York, Oxford: Berg, 2005 ISBN 1845201701 Reviewed by Anne-Marie Evans, University of Sheffield. Douglas Tallack offers an informed critique of the ultimate American city in this thoughtprovoking and enjoyable reading of urban culture. Using a vast array of examples from literature, art, photography and architecture, Tallack writes an original account of the city as text, simultaneously considering the important and changing role of the flâneur within the changing panorama of the ‘New America’. Bringing this account up to date, there is an investigation into how visual perceptions of the city have been changed by the events of 9/11. Drawing on a highly detailed structural knowledge of his topic, Tallack discusses differing views of the city, from the growth of capitalism as witnessed in Herman Melville’s Bartleby: A Story of Wall Street, 35 to visions of the Gilded Age in classic novels such as Henry James’s The American Scene and Edith Wharton’s The Age of Innocence, to Paul Auster’s postmodern dissemination of the urban in City of Glass. The American Intellectual Tradition. Edited by David A Hollinger & Charles Capper Addressing a range of visual explorations of the city, this richly illustrated text traces the development of the civic scene and its acknowledgement of emerging modernities. Taking into account historical developments, such as the fact that after the population increased, New York City become the largest city in the world in 1925 (12), Tallack investigates the city’s growing preoccupation with verticality, and offers an intriguing examination of different photographic versions of a famous New York landmark; the Flatiron Building. Analysing work by Alvin Langdon Coburn, Edward Steichen and Alfred Stieglitz, Tallack explores how differing photographic techniques reveal how ideas of Old New York were gradually influenced by the onset of the New New York. Offering a critique of work by artists such as George Bellows, John Sloan and Georgia O’Keefe, helps present an engaging and wide-reaching study. The development of the transport network in the city, the changing configurations of the New York skyline, the development of the now famous New York grid, and the homes of the leisure class elite are all assessed and evaluated as part of this valuable art history. Oxford University Press, New York, 2001 Vol I: ISBN: 0-19513720-5, Paperback. Pages: 566 Vol II: ISBN: 0-19-513722-1, Paperback. Pages: 513 Well-written, persuasively argued and wide-ranging in topics, New York Sights would be a valuable asset to any American Studies course, and of interest to both undergraduate and postgraduate students, as well as academics working in the fields of literature, art or urban studies. Reviewed by John Wedgwood Pound MA (Dunelm) Ph.D Student, University of Birmingham. These volumes are conceived for college and undergraduate students and designed to provide access to documents routinely assigned by tutors. The depth is considerable, the editors have successfully aimed to provide substantial excerpts rather than a greatly expanded range of authors, whilst context building segue text is kept to a minimum based on the assumption that sufficient background will be provided by tutors. This is a formula that works well. The focus is intellectual history, what the editors term the “American Family Argument”. Documents have been chosen that represent a significant position and advance an argument whether through sermons, letters, treaties, or essays. This impetus for this revised fourth edition comes from the feedback received from the editor’s colleagues and thus reflects recent scholarship with new works on theology, psychology, cultural theory, gender awareness and the role of the US in world affairs. The works are arranged thematically. The first volume initiates the collection, as one might expect: Winthrop’s A Modell of Christian Charity (1630). Also included in part one of this volume, subtitled “The Puritan Vision Altered” are standard Puritan tracts by Cotton Mather and Jonathan Edwards. The Revolutionary period addressed in part two, “Republican Enlightenment”, represents the spectrum of republican thought with Adams, (his 1765 Dissertation on the Canon and Feudal Law is an inspired inclusion), Paine, Jefferson, Hamilton and Madison given their say. Abigail Adams famously admonished her husband not to “forget the ladies”, and they are represented here by Judith Sargent Murray’s 1790 essay On the Equality of the Sexes. Parts Three and Four, “The Protestant Awakening and Democratic Order” and “Romantic Intellect and Cultural Reform”, take up the themes of religion, reform and liberation. Charles Grandison Finney lectures on the Revivals of Religion, William Lloyd Garrison ponders African Liberation, Margaret Fuller takes up the cause of Women in the Nineteenth Century whilst Henry David Thoreau’s Resistance to Civil Government (1849) presages the themes of the fifth and last section of this volume “The Quest for Union and Renewal”. The Civil War era is addressed through a varied section embracing works on America’s blacks, the emancipation of women together with a number Lincoln Texts. For the editors, if the overarching themes of volume I are religious in nature, its successor is concerned with science and character – a focus well served by selections dealing with secular culture, social progress, diversity and post modernity, from William Graham Sumner’s Sociology (1881) to W.E.B. Du Bois’s The Souls of Black Folk (1903). The pieces on ideology and selfanalysis in the inter-war years are thoughtfully chosen and the post War dynamism and confidence of America (though including the concurrent conflicts) is well served by selections from Hannah Ardent, David Bell, Mal- 36 colm X, Thomas Noam Chomsky. Kuhn and This is a fine selection, of considerable value to A-Level and undergraduate students, that gives a real sense of the intellectual development of America. The chronologies at the end of each volume (with time-line details of American documents, European documents and World events) are invaluable for context and trend identification. One criticism however is the dearth of material from the 1980s and 1990s, with nothing dated after 1992. Where is 1980s monetarism, where are Newt Gingrich and Ralph Nader? However, this is primarily a targeted source book, necessarily curriculum dependent and I look to further editions with a sense of anticipation. The Business of America: The Cultural Production of a PostWar Nation. By Graham Thompson. London: Pluto Press, 2004. ISBN 0-7453-1808-8, pbk., £14.99 ix + 189pp. Reviewed by Lisa Rull. University of Nottingham When academic books are expected to achieve broad audience sales or satisfy a specific textbook readership, they need to clearly establish their appeal early in the volume. One method is for the contents page to outline the concerns and themes dealt with, and depending on the use of terminology this can also suggest those who may benefit most from the full text: are the chapters titled in such a way as to invite or exclude specific readerships? In Graham Thompson’s book, the chapter titles arguably do him a major disservice, for his incisive narrative is far more accessible and focused than they may suggest. The book is undoubtedly intellectually rigorous, but Thompson’s authorial voice wears this lightly enough to present a work appealing to a broader readership than may be initially suggested. Thompson takes as his starting point the paraphrasing of US president Calvin Coolidge’s 1925 remarks on what defines America: ‘the business of America is business.’ From here, he explores how this statement embodied “conflicting ideological values” (1): as a slogan, Coolidge’s remark could both justify the actions of American business and simultaneously critique these actions as undermining the true nature of ‘America’. Thompson consistently uses the term ‘America’ in those concept quote marks to analyse the impact and negotiation of this often contentious concept as it is conveyed in American literature. In doing so, he interrogates the formulation of American Studies as a discipline both explicitly in his introductory chapter, and implicitly across the two parts of the book via his thematic readings of specific texts. Whereas Part I, “White Male Literary Culture”, identifies the struggles over the values shaping both American business and white male culture, in Part II, “The Difference of Gender, Race and Sexuality”, these struggles are reshaped and reclaimed by those who have been positioned on the outside. This results in a narrative that ultimately explores the fundamental notions of identity underpinning the definition of ‘America’ as a nation. In both parts, each chapter focuses on three or four examples of literary works or authors and, largely, this is effective, despite an inevitable assumption of prior knowledge on the part of the reader regarding the plots. Thompson gets around this by grounding his own analyses within discussions of the works’ contexts and summaries of the existing critical commentaries. For example, his study of Miller’s Death of a Salesman convincingly expands the established psychological and geographic reach and focus of the play from the domestic and the north-eastern seaboard sales region to the jungle. In this context, Willy Loman’s exhaustion arises when “the American pioneer spirit and the requirements of business in the jungle become incompatible” (33). Thus the character of Uncle Ben becomes far more central in terms of the discourses of business than previous critical analyses have acknowledged. However, elsewhere Thompson can allow other critical voices far more domination, usually to the detriment of his own arguments. Some works suffer particularly from this synoptic approach, especially those set in more recent decades or notional futures. Nevertheless, whilst clearly comfortable throughout the book discussing his mid-20th century examples, the ambiguity and challenges in Part II against the white male concept of ‘America’, and therefore of the discourses of business, also allow him greater freedom to express these analyses. Overall, Thompson provides a valuable overview to this aspect of the cultural construction of ‘America’, albeit one that could leave some readers wanting 37 History more. Neither Dead Nor Red: Civilian Defence and American Political Development during the Early Cold War by Andrew D. Grossman Pp. xx + 175. Routledge, 2001. £16.99. ISBN 0-415-92990-3. Reviewed by David Seed Liverpool University This study is partly an exercise in revising mistaken perceptions of the early Cold War, like the conception that the USA was a weak state at the time, or that the state apparatus was insulated from society. Andrew Grossman refutes these views and asserts a continuity between the US institutions set up during the Second World War and their functioning during the late 1940s and 1950s. He shows that by 1945 – in some areas by an even earlier date – an ad hoc consensus had formed on the Soviet threat and soon afterwards, in the light of the Operation Crossroads nuclear tests in the Pacific, a collective sense of America’s vulnerability had taken shape which was to influence US foreign policy. Grossman charts the gradual construction of the national ‘civic garrison’ and the projected continuous state of national emergency which accompanied it. Under the combined impact of the Soviet atomic test of 1949 and the outbreak of the Korean War, in 1950 the Federal Civil Defence Administration was formed and it is the operations of this agency which form the central part of Grossman’s study. Following a wartime strategy of media relations and propaganda techniques, in the early 1950s the FCDA began to produce a stream of reports, pamphlets (like Survival Under Atomic Attack) and special numbers of magazines like Collier’s, which issued a ‘future reportage’ coverage of World War III complete with simulated photographs. Local communities were mobilized (as described in Philip K. Dick’s novel Time out of Joint), elaborate nuclear drills were devised, and the Alert America convoy was formed. The latter was a sort of travelling side show designed to show the course of a nuclear war. These activities, together with the distribution of ‘home kits’ in case of attack, all formed part of the domestication of the nuclear threat. Elaine Tyler May’s Homeward Bound has to date been one of the main sources for information on this civil defence programme, but Grossman takes her to task for assuming that this programme simply fixed women more firmly within a narrow domestic function, when in fact it opened up (again as happened in World War II) a range of roles for them. Grossman’s study is impeccable in its facts, figures and statistics, but we still need books like Homeward Bound to give a physical impression of the drills and all-pervading anxiety of this period. Lincoln’s Sanctuary – Abraham Lincoln and the Soldiers’ Home, by Matthew Pinsker (Oxford, New York: Oxford University Press, 2003, $30.00) Pp. 256. ISBN 0 19 516206 4 Reviewed by Gary Smith Department of History, University of Dundee Each summer between 1862 and 1864, the Lincoln family left the White House and headed outside Washington to a cottage located in the ground of the Old Soldiers’ home, a residence for disabled military veterans. Seeking an escape from the pressures of the presidency and the endless visitors to the White House, this residence offered Lincoln sanctuary, and the perspective to think how best to pursue the war Despite Lincoln living at the Soldiers’ home for almost a quarter of his presidency, his time at this location has been rather overlooked by historians and the general public, with the home not declared a national monument until the year 2000. Matthew Pinsker highlights how this has been a missed opportunity, convincingly arguing that the unfamiliar setting of the home helps shine new light on familiar events from Lincoln’s time in office. The summers that Lincoln was in residence coincided with some of the most momentous decisions of his presidency, particularly the summer of 1862 which saw his gradual progression towards a declaration of emancipation. In well chosen examples we see Lincoln struggling with the replacement of Union commanders, military setbacks and other wartime concerns; the secluded nature of the home failing to shield Lincoln from the responsibilities of his position. Although a large part of the work highlights how Lincoln’s stay at the home corresponded with key wartime developments, where it really shines is in its depiction of the social benefits that the home conferred upon the President. Lincoln was often deprived of the company of his wife and son, particularly in 1863 when Mary and Tad were away from the home for 10 weeks in the aftermath of Mary’s carriage accident. The void created by their departure encouraged Lincoln to talk to the soldiers stationed there, entertain visitors and callers, and spend 38 time with the Stanton family the Secretary of War also taking advantage of the escape offered by the soldiers’ home. What emerges is a portrayal that serves to humanise the legendary President. Whether he is entertaining visitors while wearing carpet slippers, visiting a nearby Contraband camp, or riding through the grounds of the home, his humanity and character shine through. disagree. That it does so in such convincing fashion is testament to the large variety of sources used by Pinsker, many of them rarely seen before. Of particular interest are the reminisces of soldiers from Company K, 150th Pennsylvania, the army unit deployed to guard Lincoln during his stay. These men enjoyed unparalleled access to the President, with their recollections highlighting how Lincoln would often come down to their camp to listen to their views, something that the men used to their advantage in order to gain supplies and provisions. While the number of visitors that passed through the home during the Lincoln family’s stay was probably in the hundreds, Pinsker’s work contains insights from 75 such visitors, a cross-section of society that included generals, politicians, socialites and foreign dignitaries. Reviewed by John Wedgwood Pound MA (Dunelm) Ph.D Student, University of Birmingham. These varied characters help give colour to the narrative of the book, and add another dimension to an already engaging tale. Clearly argued and well constructed, this work is a welcome addition to the existing scholarship on Lincoln, showing that even the most well documented event can still have new light shed upon it. Pinsker argues that “The place was not just a backdrop to great events but also a participant in them.” After reading this wellresearched book, it is hard to Mr Jefferson’s Lost Cause, Land, Farmers, Slavery and the Louisiana Purchase by Roger G. Kennedy Oxford University Press, New York, 2003 ISBN: 0-19-515347-2, Hardback. Pages: 350 List Price $30.60 Kennedy, Director Emeritus of the National Museum of American History and a former director of the US National Park Service, has presented a complex and controversial thesis – that Jefferson’s misguided policy in the Old South was responsible for the Civil War. Kennedy, supported by a wealth of material, demonstrates at length the idealism of Jefferson’s Agrarian republic vision against the reality of planter dominance, land speculation, exploitation and betrayal. He paints in rich detail a picture of the South’s dependence on slave labour, cotton, and British economic power. This dependence is a central theme – it drives the Virginians in the White House to shamelessly favour the Planters in maintaining a system only sustainable by continual expansion into new territories. Thus lay the imperative to acquire, by fair means or otherwise, the backwater territories of distracted European Powers. Kennedy’s style is intense but unfocussed. The book is divided into four parts, each roughly chronological within itself but not in relation to each other. Each chapter within these sec- tions is further divided, sometimes within two or three paragraphs, to deal with a precise point or to elaborate, sometimes tangentially, on a particular topic or individual. These bijou diversions cover the wide range of characters that contributed to the “Lost Cause” and are often fascinating, though sometimes disruptive to the narrative - he has a genealogist’s penchant for emphasising, often irrelevantly, their personal ancestry and European ethnicity. The style is intended to provide a view across the piece, although this is imperfectly achieved. However, the work is particularly strong in providing the background to the plantation systems, the pressing geopolitical issues in the later eighteenth and early nineteenth century, and in particular demonstrating how America, particularly the South, remained an economic colony of Great Britain for generations after the Revolution. A particularly interesting aspect is the account of the ecological history, the scientific assessment of the Planter’s husbandry and the effects on the soil of intensive farming – in particular the environmental impact of slavery. The contrast with the practices of the indigenous Indians is a theme that is well explored. Kennedy is clearly sympathetic to Jefferson, but his thesis is devastating to his reputation. One is forced to compare him unfavourably with his principled and disinterested predecessors Adams and Washington. This work would be of particular use to undergraduates focusing on the South in the period, whilst its narrative style does not lend itself to easy use as a reference work the index and chapter notes are comprehensive. For the postgraduate Kennedy provides a thought provok- 39 ing contribution to the debate. The Conquest of the Missouri. The Story and the Life and Exploits of Captain Grant Marsh, by Joseph Mills Hansom. With a new introduction by Paul L. Hedren. (Stackpole Books, Mechanicsburg, PA. 2003. First published in Chicago by A.C. McClurg in 1909. $21.95 paperback.) Pp436. ISBN 0-8117-2482-4. Reviewed by Alan Lowe. B. A. Manchester Metropolitan University. The Conquest of the Missouri tells the story of Captain G r a n t Marsh’s exploits as a steamboat pilot and captain on the Mississippi and Missouri Rivers from 1846 to 1906. Originally published in 1909, the style of writing is quaintly old-fashioned, but eminently readable. At times I was unsure whether this was a biography of Grant Marsh (18341916) or of the river he so ably traversed in the early years of its “conquest”, when he set speed records never matched or beaten and navigated further up stream than any man before him. Many of the earlier chapters are charmingly mundane, though even here I found an interesting account of the Battle of Shiloh. In later chapters the reader is taken on a journey aboard Marsh’s steamboat, the Far West that will remain in the memory for some time. The book conveys a strong sense of place - of Sioux City, Yankton, Bismarck, Rosebud, Powder River and the romantically named Pompey’s Pillar, places whose names are redolent of an era now departed. We are introduced to the 7th Cavalry, the Sioux and Cheyenne Nations, and such luminaries as Generals Terry, Sherman and Crook, Colonel George Armstrong Custer, Major Reno, Buffalo Bill Cody, Crazy Horse and Sitting Bull. Hansom provides us with a graphic description of the build up to the Battle of the Little Big Horn, the battle itself and its consequences. Although Grant Marsh takes no active part in the actual campaign, the insights gained from this new perspective are fascinating. Mr. Hansom is probably overly lavish in his praise of Captain Marsh, but this matters little. The book is certainly worthy of a re-print and I commend it without hesitation to anyone interested in the area and era under discussion, be they academics searching for good source material or the general reader after a good old-fashioned read. Freedom From Fear: The American People in Depression and War, 19291945 (The Oxford History of the United States) by David M. Kennedy. Oxford University Press, 2001. ISBN paperback 0-19-514403-1, pp. 936. List price: £15.00. Reviewed by Dr. Wendy Toon. American Studies Course Leader, University of Worcester. This singlevolume edition, taking its title from FDR’s famous 1941 speech, argues that the two key crises, the Depression and the Second World War, created a climate of fear which the Roosevelt administration attempted to overcome through a variety of policies aimed at providing security. Kennedy considers that this drive for security, both domestic and international, characterized the Rooseveltian response and hoped to secure for the American people one of the main “four freedoms.” He highlights the New Deal’s shortcomings, contradictions and failures and teases out the variety of determinants in American World War II strategy. Context is emphasized and the author attempts to give a feel of the times in which the specific events took place. Although this volume’s focus is firmly on the American experience it does also consider the other side, as it were, whether that be the Republicans, the British, the Soviets, the Japanese or the Germans. This book’s main achievement is the way in which it weaves seamlessly through the various aspects that shaped the American experience in these two pivotal decades. With a lightness of touch, particularly in the first half of this volume, Kennedy deals with the full gamut of life. The written style is sophisticated yet accessible for undergraduates and above. As reader, you are carried at pace through these years by an entertaining and colourful narrative that binds the often complicated and sweeping events together. Freedom From Fear provides the reader with interesting portraits of the main players in American and world history in the 1930s and 1940s. Their careers are woven into the narrative from the start, with the clever opening in which key figures from various countries are linked at the end of World War One. Chapters that focus on the often rather dry topic of military history are still livelily written and engaging. The focus on “people” however is perhaps uneven. There is surprisingly little on the people (as in general populace) in the discussion of the Second World War. Despite this, examination of the important actors and statesmen is fleshed out with biographical details presumably in an attempt to emphasize that they were people too. These portraits are further coloured with their re- 40 flections on each other. The author often exploits an interesting collection of both primary and secondary sources. There is a clear awareness of alternative interpretations for many of the key events that shaped these two vital decades. Kennedy tests and challenges some of the historiographical understandings of this period. However, much of the secondary information is based on what would be considered classic but perhaps now slightly dated volumes. Footnotes, maps, photographs, cartoons and posters support the discussion. A comprehensive index and illuminating bibliographical essay are also included. The bibliographical essay points to a wide range of additional reading and further exemplifies Kennedy’s extensive knowledge of his chosen period. In summary, Freedom From Fear is a great example of the historians’ craft of bringing the past to life in all its fascinating detail. Although daunting in its size, the years do fly by. Politics The Intellectuals and the Flag by Todd Gitlin. New York: Columbia University Press, 2006. ISBN 0231124929 Pp. 167. $24.95 (hardcover) Reviewed by David Brian Howard, Associate Professor of Art History, Nova Scotia College of Art and Design University Todd Gitlin’s new book, The Intellectuals and the Flag, has much in it to recommend to a reader wanting to reconstruct the critical practice of American intellectuals in the difficult aftermath of September 11, 2001. With the self-stated goal of con- tributing “to a new start for intellectual life on the left” (1) Gitlin is sneeringly critical of the role of identity politics and the post-modern left in American political life. With its roots in the anti-war protests of the Vietnam era, Gitlin argues that current intellectual life on the American left must re-conceive and reorganize itself if it is to have any hope of confronting, “a disciplined alliance of plutocrats and right-wing fundamentalist Christians”(2) that have come to dominate particularly in the post 9/11 era. With the remobilization of the left in mind Gitlin tears into the American Empire of the Bush years an era which is both a “failing empire” and a “failing democracy”(148). Gitlin’s succinct summary of the failings of American political life is juxtaposed next to a postmodern left whose idea of “resistance” and use of identity politics was utterly incapable of filling the democratic void that had arisen in the United States following the Vietnam War. Gitlin calls for a renewal of a “liberal patriotism, robust and uncowed”(155) and draws upon three neglected critical intellectuals of the United States in the 1950s and early 1960s to cue his alternate vision of a leftist patriotism: David Riesman, C. Wright Mills, and Irving Howe. These stellar examples of a public intellectual life become a kind of home-grown antidote to the spurious influences of thinkers like Michel Foucault on the postmodern left that Gitlin feels must be relegated to the past if liberal patriotism is to return. While I wholeheartedly agree with Gitlin’s critique of the American Empire and his valorisation of three important, and overly neglected, critical voices, Gitlin’s book represents such a caricature of so many other important critical voices on the twentieth century left, and ignores so many others, such as Gore Vidal, that it does far more harm than good in re-imagining what a re-motivated liberal patriotism could look like. The legiti- mate critiques of the political failings of the post-modern left are lost in sweeping denunciations of such a broad range of critical voices, ranging from an undifferentiated critique of thinkers such as the Frankfurt School, Michel Foucault, Noam Chomsky and Edward Said. Conflating this broad range of thinkers under the banner of a fundamentalist left that is mired in its Manichean view of the world is inaccurate, unjustified, and ultimately self-defeating to the very project Gitlin advocates. Intellectuals as diverse as Theodor Adorno, Walter Benjamin, Jürgen Habermas, and the aforementioned Edward Said were, and are, consummate critics of the manichaeism in the cultural and political life of the twentieth century and, I would argue, are crucial to a reconceptualising of a new critical left perspective in American society that avoids some of the missteps of postmodernism. It is a shame that Gitlin is not more nuanced and differentiating in his critical assessment of the contribution of so many dissenting leftist voices. Ultimately, Gitlin reveals an underlying conservatism, which calls into question his vision of a liberal patriotic renewal. Race The African American Experience in Cyberspace: A Resource Guide to the Best Web Sites on Black Culture and History by Abdul Alkalimat (Stirling, VI, and London: Pluto Press, 2004) ix + 294 pp., (paper) ISBN 0 7453 2222 Review by A n d r e w Fearnley, University of Cambridge, UK This review could be 41 done in a few words: do not buy this book. It is made redundant by its own subject, and it is not well presented. Such assessments hardly make for the most enlightening review though, and rather than just focus on the limited uses of Experience in Cyberspace, I want to look at the views taken on this subject by the author, Abdul Alkalimat, a sociologist, and current editor of the H-Af-Am listserv. The book is an introductory guide to the Internet, listing websites that deal with various aspects of the ‘black experience’. To begin with, there is a certain irony in the fact that someone would print such a guide. As Alkalimat himself recognizes, “the web is alive and part of it is born and part of it dies every hour.” [105] From the moment this guide left the press in 2004 it was already quickly falling out of date, and one would have to hope given the many pitfalls and shortcomings of the current work, that serious thought would be given before a subsequent, updated edition was contemplated. Already some domains are obsolete. In printing the web addresses of various sites the work also presumes that readers will type in lengthy addresses rather than search them via an engine. I wonder how many people will key in SNCC’s position paper on Vietnam, for example [204] (lists.village.virginia.edu/sixties/ HTML_docs/Resources/Primary/ Manifestos/SNCC_VN.html)? Pitched at high-school students and teachers, librarians, and the general reader, the work is arranged in two parts, History (10 chapters) and Culture (20 chapters). Each chapter begins with a passage about how such issues have affected African Americans, and a number of websites that deal with various aspects of the topic are listed thereafter (ranging from 27 in a chapter about gays/lesbians, to 60 on music). Most of the sites I viewed were really interesting, and there is no doubting that the author has provided a good sampling of what is on offer. Some sites do not chime with the chapter topic however, like when those relating to the ‘Civil Rights Movement’ [85] are discussed in ‘Urban Life’. Discussion of the desegregation of the US armed forces in a chapter on ‘Great Migrations’ is similarly illconceived. At the end of each chapter further reading sections are provided—sections annoyingly titled ‘Good Books’—and these too are rather idiosyncratic. A chapter on ‘DeIndustrialization’ notes the author’s own work [93], whilst failing to pay homage to Thomas Sugrue’s The Origins of the Urban Crisis [1996], a work that catalysed recent discussions about the topic. Experience in Cyberspace cannot be recommended for its prose or it stylistic merits: it has neither. Yet our author seems quite content with the few constructions he knows to the extant that in one passage five consecutive sentences contain some form of “there is/ are…” [25-6]. Repetition of words does not just occur across sentences, but within them too. In the chapter on food a passage is concluded with the warning that “there are aspects of soul food that need to be changed to impact the types of diseases that impact Black people.” [133] Alkalimat’s commentary is not just difficult to read, it is also confusing. In an introductory section to the chapter on health the reader is told that “Black people have been an essential source of labor, hence a minimal level of health has been necessary to keep the US economy going.” [114] Glib comments such as “Black people work in all areas of health care” overlook significant details, like the lack of African Americans in certain areas of healthcare, for example psychiatry. Editing of this material is poor, such that one has to hope that the book was never edited. Indeed, there are more widows and orphans here than in a nineteenth-century poorhouse; the text has more cosmetic blemishes than a classroom of the teenagers for which it is intended. Web addresses, for the most part, appear in working order, though I only sampled a random number. On occasion addresses are carelessly printed twice, one needlessly under the other [165, 230]. What rankled me most about this work, however, and there was much that did, was the author’s triumphalist praise for the Internet. His feeling that it is the “most democratic method for gathering and [2] sharing information”, available to “everyone” [1] overlooks the factors of wealth, education, and privilege that determine who gets access to this technology. Arguably the influence of such factors is even more wide reaching than in publishing with everyone denied complete access by institutional passwords, and the need to purchase. Alkalimat’s lack of consideration for the provenance of this material is equally troubling. Descriptions of websites seldom mention the organization or individual(s) who maintain the site, and a number of references lead to advocacy groups. If anything good can be found in this book, it is perhaps the hope that some scholar will realize the interesting discussion that could be had about the Internet’s potentialities as a means for reconceptualizing understandings of black diaspora. Although the author’s indiscriminate use of ‘Black’ and ‘African American’ bludgeons such possibilities, Alkalimat is surely correct in claiming the technology’s unrivalled ability to connect people across the globe. Exploring how this might affect our understandings of race, political alliance, and genealogy is surely a topic worthy of pursuit. 42 Massive Resistance: Southern Opposition to the Second Reconstruction edited by Clive Webb Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005, £38.99) pp. xiv, 244. ISBN 0195177851 (Hardback) Reviewed by Emma Kilkelly In the first chapter Michael J. Klarman looks at the Brown v. Board of Education’s declarati on t h a t ‘segregation in public schools was unconstitutional.’(3) Klarman demonstrates how the Southern Manifesto aimed to preserve segregation and discriminated against African-Americans who tried to vote, or attempted to enrol their children at white schools - loss of jobs, welfare benefits, and credit refusal; harassment, assault, burnings, bombings and murder. Schools were closed to prevent d e s e g r e g a t i o n , ‘newspapers….boycotted and… TV stations refused to air … programs that discussed integration.’ (26) In ‘Brown and Backlash’ Tony Badger shows how segregationist candidates won elections, and discusses African American direct action of the 1960s. Badger concludes that, ‘token integration’ was ‘more effective than massive resistance.’(47) In Chapter Three, Adam Fairclough examines discrimination against the NAACP, who had to ‘file… membership lists with the secretary of state’(60) which resulted in loss of membership and branch closures. Fairclough analyses voting and discrimination in Louisiana, which resulted in, ‘reducing the …black voters…from about 4,000 to 921.’(64) John A. Kirk in the fourth chapter shows that ‘minimum compliance’ caused a ‘diluted form of massive resistance….that actually wreaked chaos.’ (78) The implementation of Brown had no set deadline; many institutions could make token integration gestures. In Chapter Five, Kevin M. Kruse looks at the concept of “Freedom of Association” white citizens wanted the right ‘to select their neighbors, their employees, and their children’s classmates.’(100) Whites withdrew their children from schools and moved out of communities frequented by African Americans: ‘On the Friday before the black children were to arrive, there were still 470 white boys and girls…the following Monday, they found only seven white children.’(105) George Lewis, in Chapter Six, examines the connection between the Cold War and segregation rhetorical language of the era: ‘white supremacists…claim [ed] that civil rights activists were part of an orchestrated, communist plot.’(128) David L. Chappell in ‘Disunity and Religious Institutions in the White South’ shows how ‘laypeople, not clergy’ (139) generally used the Bible for segregationist claims. Most religious institutions did not comment on segregation. Jane Dailey in Chapter Eight looks at segregation, miscegenation and religion, and shows how a reading of the apostle Paul’s arguments in Acts 17, can be used both for and against segregation. The segregationists believed that ‘integration facilitated miscegenation. ’(158) Dailey demonstrates how newspapers reported that integrated schools would lead to intermarriage, and attempted sensationalist sex-slurs on the civil rights marchers: ‘a Negro boy and a white girl engaged in sexual intercourse on the floor of the church.’ (169) In Chapter Nine Elizabeth Gillespie McRae focuses upon Flor- ence Sillers Ogden, and her newspaper column ‘Dis an’ Dat’ which purported white supremacist arguments for segregation. Sillers was active in many womens’ organizations and emphasized their duty to pass on the ideologies of segregation to their children: ‘to indoctrinate the nation’s youth’.(191) In the final chapter, Karen S. Anderson looks at the peaceful desegregation of Hoxie schools in 1955, then the aftermath following the reportage in Life magazine. Anderson writes that a minister had even started telling his congregation that ‘God would overlook violence committed in defense of white racial “purity.”’(205) This collection of essays is an excellent source for students, researchers and academics. It is detailed, informative, extremely well referenced, very interesting and readable. It also suggests areas for further research, such as ‘school integration from the perspective of teachers’ and the ‘ Citi ze ns’ Counci l For um Films.’ (14) Gender Studies Women’s America: Refocusing the Past, ed. Linda K. Kerber, Jane Sharron de Hart. 6th ed. New York, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2004. 751 pp., b/w illustrations ISBN 0-19-515982-9 (pbk.) Reviewed by Alexandra Ganser, M.A., University of ErlangenNuremberg, Germany What is the best way to review an encyclopaedia? This question was a major concern for me while I was reading Women’s 43 America: Refocusing the Past, realizing that this compendium of scholarly essays, historical documents, illustrations, and bibliographical references was truly encyclopaedic in nature. Linda Kerber’s and Jane Sharron de Hart’s edited compilation of more than 400 years of women’s history in the United States has been reissued in 2004 in its 6th edition (the first edition dating to 1982), and this alone acts as overwhelming proof to the book’s continuous importance for students and teachers interested in any of the wide-ranging aspects concerning women’s lives in the U.S., past and present. Structurally, Women’s America is divided, after an introduction to the history of (New) Women’s History by the editors, into four l ar g e h i st o r i ca l p er i o d s : “Traditional America,” 16001820, a roughly one hundredpage section; the age of U.S.American industrialization, 18201900, covering a little over 150 pages; the 20th century up to World War II of about 180 pages; and the largest section, covering post-war history and issues on more than 200 pages. These four sections, in turn, are divided into academic articles--their perspectives ranging from history and the social sciences to law, literature, and culture—on the one hand and pivotal historical documents on the other. In both sections, the editors briefly introduce the subsequent article, contextualizing it both in terms of those concerns prevailing throughout women’s history as well as within the specific historical period at issue. These introductory paragraphs are invaluable for the reader’s broader understanding of the topic at stake, as are the challenging study questions that follow. That most essays as well as all the legal and other historical documents are shortened and/or edited by Kerber and de Hart is no setback at all for this monumental (700+-pp.) compendium. Instead, the incredible amount of editorial work accomplished here greatly helps the student focus on the central aspects of each work and, perhaps even more importantly, enhances the accessibility of documents written in alien idiom to many of us, such as 17th century, nonstandard English or 21st century legal jargon. Regarding content, Kerber and de Hart have done an equally laudable job. I was unable to think of a single topic in women’s histories left uncovered by the book: from labour organisation to reproductive rights and marital laws, suffrage and equality issues to women’s—including enslaved women’s--immigration experience, from women’s experiences during the Civil War to witchcraft trials and the lynchings of African Americans, Women’s America leaves hardly any topic unexplored. We learn of such icons in women’s history in the United States as Pocahontas, Anne Hutchinson, Sojourner Truth, the Grimké sisters, Betty Friedan, Bella Abzug, the Shirelles and Madonna, and many more; notably, all of these path-breaking, brave woman warriors are situated against their cultural backgrounds and their times. Another feat accomplished in this respect is that the black-and-white illustrations give faces to these women’s names, albeit perhaps not as extensively as one would wish. Yet personal accounts, such as historian Gerda Lerner’s tale of immigration, also balance off the more theoretical sections concerned with complex legal matters, for instance. Assembled in Women’s America the reader finds excerpts from such “classical” works as Carroll Smith-Rosenberg’s “The Female World of Love and Ritual” or Susan Bordo’s Unbearable Weight as well as recent contributions to women’s history like the highly topical essays on women in the first Iraqi War or the ongoing struggle over abortion (written expressly for this edition). In sum, this new addition of Women’s America: Refo- cusing the Past again provides the historically interested reader with substantial information on the richness and diversity of American women’s lives and struggles throughout the centuries. Textbooks Get Set for American Studies by Edward Ashbee Edinburgh University Press 2004. ISBN 0 74861692 6 Reviewed by Helen Tamburro Ashbee begins very sensibly by ad dr e s si ng the very notion of studying American Studies. Any American Studies student will have sighed when hearing the same old question thrown at them, 'American Studies? What's that?!' To many newcomers of the subject it is an excellent starting point as Ashbee concisely informs the reader exactly why the study of America is so relevant. American Studies has grown in popularity and particularly since 9/11. Ashbee emphasises America's topicality and relevance in the world we live in today, highlighting US foreign policy and discussing the notion of the US as a hyperpower, also due to its assumed world policeman status (no Team America jokes please). For a guide to a course there is actually a substantial amount of background information provided, such as the notion of the American Dream; the impact of the US on the rest of the world as Americanisation permeates the globe and also global attitudes towards the US. America can mean freedom to some, but the opposite to others as we have most notably witnessed in recent years. 44 Ashbee includes information on course content and subject areas, such as history, politics, literature and culture and the benefits of both the multi and interdisciplinary aspect of American Studies. By no means for use as a textbook, the subjects are broken down in such a way as merely to give students an overview of the topics they are likely to cover, such as the Civil War, the Presidency and Congress and major American authors. Ashbee successfully conveys how the understanding o£ these varied yet connected topics is enhanced, because of the multi and interdisciplinary approach. What is particularly effective about his style of writing and structure of the book is the way in which fairly complex concepts are simplistically conveyed, whether Ashbee is referring to Marxism or the Louisiana Purchase. The list of UK courses provided is a great feature, as is the section dedicated to study exchanges in the US. Ashbee provides case studies of American Studies graduates, which really are the best insight anyone could get into life during and following an American Studies course. There are also examples of final year modules that can be taken, which again will be useful to those considering the degree course. Another practical feature provided are the key terms associated with American Studies, which are handy for any undergraduate. thodical and informative guide to American Studies. It acts as an introduction to the subject for newcomers and yet it can also be a useful tool for university students, although as Get Set for American Studies is part of the Get Set for University series of books specifically aimed at AI AS Level students, ultimately it will prove too simplistic for undergraduates. Giving a good idea of what to expect from a degree course of this nature, Ashbee's book is an effective guide for potential American Studies undergraduates and it is therefore hard to fault the book. This striking portrait of Hannah by Jeanne-Marie Kenny was in her exhibition in Liverpool earlier this year. See the report on page 27. In the second half of the book, Ashbee focuses on study skills, giving advice on writing essays to degree standard and also emphasizing a greater need for individual based learning. There are sample essay questions for common topics - an excellent source of preparation for all students that will provide any prospective American Studies student with a greater understanding of what to expect. There is a also a list of helpful web sites related to the degree. Ashbee's book is a deliberately basic, yet comprehensive, mePrinted by Rhodes Printing, Boundary Road, St Helens WA10 2QA