Brent Hayes Edwards, " The Practice of Diaspora" (Book Note)

 

While the trans-Atlantic connections between Africa, Europe, and the Americas have long been a subject of study, the recent resurgence in interest, particularly among younger scholars, can be largely attributed to the impact of Paul Gilroy's seminal work, "The Black Atlantic: Modernity and Double-Consciousness" (1993). As a sociologist trained in cultural studies, Gilroy argued for a diasporic model of cultural connection to comprehend the similarities and differences among black communities around the Atlantic. His work proposed the concept of "counter-modernity," challenging Western humanism and its institutions. While Gilroy's argument was both exciting and frustrating, particularly for its lack of empirical engagement, it played a pivotal role in reshaping the history of the Atlantic world.

 

"The Practice of Diaspora" by Brent Hayes Edwards situates itself between the theoretical and empirical approaches. Edwards, a literary scholar, focuses on contemporary cultural debates with a specific historical goal: to recover and analyze the trans-Atlantic relationships that developed among black intellectuals during the interwar period. Unlike Gilroy, Edwards adopts a more chronologically focused and empirically grounded approach, emphasizing Paris and the Francophone world. His methodology emphasizes language, translation, and the role of literary work in creating linkages and a common black sensibility in the Atlantic world, using sources such as journals, anthologies, and book prefaces to demonstrate that black internationalism was a tangible outcome of correspondence, translation, and other written practices.

 

In Chapter 1, Edwards discusses his sources and method, highlighting his commitment to "anti-abstractionist uses of diaspora" and introducing the notion of "ddcalage" to interpret how diaspora functions, emphasizing the disjuncture of time and distance inherent in any understanding of diaspora. Chapter 2 explores the correspondence between Rend Maran, the Martinican poet, and Alain Locke, the African-American writer and critic. Their relationship, sparked by Maran's influential work "Batouala," reveals the complexities of being black, a French citizen, and a colonial administrator in Africa. Chapter 3 delves into the life of Paulette Nardal, a Martinican in Paris who founded the bilingual journal "La Revue du monde noir" and hosted a weekly salon for black university students and visiting writers from Harlem, adding a significant gender dimension to Edwards's historical analysis.

 

In Chapter 4, the focus shifts to a detailed exploration of a single text, Claude McKay's novel "Banjo" (1929). Set in the port city of Marseilles and depicting black workers and drifters, Edwards discusses the novel's significance in creating a view of vagabond internationalism. Despite its promise of a black cosmopolitanism from below, this vision remains unfulfilled. Chapter 5 extends the proletarian theme by examining the collaboration between George Padmore and Tiemoko Garan Kouyaté through their connections with the Soviet Comintern. This final chapter intertwines black internationalism, anticolonialism, and Marxist-Leninism.

 

Kouyaté, born in Segu, Mali, emerges as a fascinating figure, expressing his wish to C. L. R. James that "Trotsky was a black man." Kouyaté's story becomes an allegory for activist-intellectuals, characterized by piercing ideas and imaginative effort but lacking institutional support. Edwards poignantly notes the fragility of connections, such as a momentary possibility of collaboration between Kouyaté and W. E. B. Du Bois that remains unrealized.

 

The detailed insight and verve that Edwards brings to this history reveal a conceptual and empirical richness uncommon in similar studies. While familiar figures like Du Bois, James, and Garvey make appearances, Edwards's committed exploration of lesser-known figures like Maran, Nardal, and Kouyaté adds excitement to the study. Even figures like Nguyen Ai Quoc (later Ho Chi Minh) are present through their relationships with Lamine, Senghor, and others in the Union Intercoloniale.

 

Some historians may have reservations about "The Practice of Diaspora." It reads more like a series of essays than a sequence of chronological chapters, with occasional digressions into conceptual discussions that might feel dense with names and jargon. Additionally, the concept of "décalage," while causal, is not fully developed as a historical theory. The focus remains on "publication" history rather than "event" history, and a broader pattern beyond these tenuous links may not fully materialize.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Henry Louis Gates Jr. (ed), Black Literature and Literary Theory" (Book Note)

 

The primary purpose of literary criticism is to shed light on works of art, and the literature of the African diaspora has garnered attention from a diverse array of literary critics representing various critical perspectives. Critical theories spanning Formalism, Marxism, Psychoanalysis, and Structuralism have all contributed to the examination of these literatures. A significant contemporary challenge facing critics of Black literature is the formulation of a critical theory rooted in black culture. Influential artists like Chinua Achebe, Mongo Beti, Ngugi Wa Thiong'o, Langston Hughes, Zora Neale Hurston, Richard Wright, Toni Morrison, and George Lamming have been profoundly shaped by their cultural backgrounds. Consequently, valid interpretations of their works must be sensitive to the cultural milieu from which they emerged.

 

In the introductory essay to "Black Literature & Literary Theory" titled "Criticism in the Jungle," Gates defines "black" as encompassing African, Caribbean, and Afro-American literature. He raises the implicit question of how applicable contemporary literary theory is to the reading of African, Caribbean, and Afro-American literary traditions. The response to this question unfolds in a series of essays by scholar-critics who demonstrate a nuanced understanding of contemporary theories and Afrocentric aesthetic postulations. The collection also, to some extent, addresses the call made during the Black Arts Movement of the 60s for the conceptualization of a critical theory divorced from Western theories.

 

The initial essay by Nigerian writer Wole Soyinka delves into the language of the social critic, critically engaging with Roland Barthes' definitions of langue and parole. Soyinka expresses discontent with critics, such as Gerald Moore and Bernth Lindfors, who have misinterpreted his works. However, the essay leaves the reader without a clear view of the applicability of Barthes' theory to "black letters." In contrast, James Snead's "Repetition as a Figure of Black Culture" emerges as one of the most enlightening contributions in the collection. This essay lends credibility to the advocacy for a theory of interpretation rooted in culture. Snead challenges Hegel's assertion that "black culture simply did not exist in the same sense as European culture did" and discusses the relevance of "repetition" in black culture, emphasizing its pivotal role. Using examples from artists like James Brown and John Coltrane, Snead illustrates how this motif from African music influences contemporary artists such as Toni Morrison, Ishmael Reed, and Leon Forrest in their literary works.

Structuralism has encountered resistance among critics of Black Literature, with the pioneering work of Sunday Anozie, as seen in "Structural Models & African Poetics" (1982) and his essay in "Black Literature and Literary Theory" (pp. 105-125), failing to sway critics toward embracing structuralist poetics. Anthony Appiah's strong rebuttal to Anozie's application of structuralism to African works (pp. 127-150) further elucidates the fundamental suspicions held by critics of Black literature regarding the "applicability" and relevance of this theory within the literary canon. The reluctance to adopt structuralist theories in African and Afro-American criticism stems from the theory itself, which views a work of art as an autonomous system of structures requiring "decodification." Some critics find structuralism to be an escapist approach that lacks social and political commitment.

 

While structuralism has faced skepticism in the realm of Black literature, certain aspects of it, such as intertextuality and studies on myth and folktale by Levi-Strauss and Vladimir Propp, may offer useful insights. Propp's method of breaking down folktales into component parts and analyzing their relation to the whole, as demonstrated in Jay Edwards' essay on the "Structural Analysis of the Afro-American trickster tale" (pp. 80-103), reflects a potential avenue for exploration.

 

The second part of "Black Literature and Literary Theory," titled "Practice," features insightful essays on African-American literature by Bowen, Johnson, Baker, Washington, Wills, Stepto, and Gates. These essays interpret works from the literary canon through various perspectives. Barbara Johnson and Mary Helen Washington, for instance, emphasize the seminal role of the "feminist voice" that has been overlooked by scholars and critics. Their analyses of Zora Neale Hurston's "Their Eyes Were Watching God" and Gwendolyn Brooks' "Maud Martha" underscore the pivotal contributions of these texts to African-American literature. Recent critical studies, such as Mari Evans' "Black Women Writers (1950-1980)," are expected to expand the scope of literary theories applied to Black literature, especially the works of women writers.

The essay that stands out as particularly provocative in "Black Literature and Literary Theory" is authored by Henry Louis Gates Jr., titled "The blackness of blackness: a critique of the sign and the signifying monkey" (pp. 285-321). Carolyn Fowler, in her intriguing introduction to "Black Arts and Black Aesthetics," contends that works in Black literature require new value judgments that acknowledge the cultural artifacts shaping the artistic sensibilities of the writers. In 1973, Stephen Henderson, in his significant essay "The Forms of Things Unknown" (See "Understanding the New Black Poetry," pp. 3-69), formulated a critical theory for reading Black poetry. Gates' essay in the same volume is a pioneering work in a similar direction, proposing a theory of interpretation from "within the black cultural matrix."

 

Gates explores the role of the Signifying Monkey in black culture, identifying it as a trickster figure akin to those in Yoruba mythology, such as Esu-Elegbara in Nigeria and Legba among the Fon of Dahomey. He further explains the Signifying Monkey as the "signifier" wreaking havoc upon the "signified." Gates elucidates Afro-American narrative parody and applies it to the analysis of Ishmael Reed's "Mumbo Jumbo," considering it a "signifying pastiche of the Afro-American narrative tradition." Drawing from diverse sources in black culture, Gates establishes a solid theoretical framework and analyzes the works of major Afro-American writers. He contends that Ellison, for example, is a "Great Signifier" naming things indirectly throughout his works. Ellison engages in parodying Richard Wright's literary structures through repetition and difference.

 

In a detailed analysis of Ishmael Reed's "Mumbo Jumbo," which parodies the Harlem Renaissance, Gates suggests that the work is both about texts and composed of sub-texts, pre-texts, post-texts, and narratives within narratives. Gates' insightful analyses are informed by sociological, linguistic, and historical data from black culture. While "Black Literature and Literary Theory" is a pioneering and provocative text for students of Black literature and contemporary theories, it is noted for a major weakness— the absence of an essay on Afro-Caribbean literature, especially considering Gates' definition of "black" as a metaphor for the African diaspora. Nonetheless, the collection supports the notion that contemporary theories can indeed illuminate works in Black literature, with the most rewarding theories rooted in Black culture.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Michael Harris' "Outsiders and Insiders: Perspectives of Third World Culture in British and Post-Colonial Fiction " (Book Note)

 

In pairing colonial and postcolonial novels that share similar geographies and histories, this study aims to scrutinize the validity of the colonizer-colonized distinction and identify commonalities in various colonial encounters while acknowledging the unique circumstances of each region. The project aligns with two established lines of comparative study from the 1980s: the examination of Manichean aesthetics and the politics of colonial literature, as well as participation in the comparative scholarship of new literatures in English. The timing of this study is particularly noteworthy, coinciding with Aijaz Ahmad's "In Theory," which questions the genealogy and legitimacy of the theoretical assumptions Harris's book relies on, such as postcolonialism and "Third World literature." Unfortunately, "Insiders and Outsiders" falls short of adding substantially to the ongoing debate in comparative postcolonial literary studies or the scholarship on the specific texts under examination.

 

Following Raymond Williams' directive in "The Country and the City," the comparisons in each chapter are intended to provide a "different and necessary perspective" to British representations of colonial experience. The text's architecture, as explained by Harris, reflects the geopolitical evolution of the British Empire. Implicitly, another organizational structure seems to be at play, with each chapter built around a discussion of a specific problem in colonial discourse and the revisionist response of an "insider" born in the formerly colonized territory.

 

While these juxtapositions are occasionally insightful, especially in exploring the links between strategies of representation and ideological work, the danger lies in ratifying binarisms rooted in narrow biological definitions of identity and perspective. The insider/outsider and British/Indian (or South African, Nigerian, Kenyan, Barbadian) dichotomies oversimplify the complexity of cultural and social identity portrayed in the novels and the heterogeneous identity of the writers concerning class, political affiliations, geographic location, and generation. This approach also leads to distortions in characterizing some of the novels, as seen in the attribution of a "different perspective" on West Indian social division to George Lamming's "In the Castle of My Skin," which is reduced to the category of race, neglecting other divisions of education, gender, urban/rural perspective, and especially class in Lamming's portrayal of Creighton's village. Unwittingly, the structure of these chapters implies a colonialist framework that positions Europe and European literatures as the continuing catalyst and reference point for postcolonial life and cultural production, reinforcing an Anglocentric portrayal.

The structure of this study sets up expectations for an additional form of comparison, exploring the affinities and evolution of British colonial texts and the aesthetic, political, and historical grounds for the category of postcolonial literature. A multifaceted argument about the literature of British imperialism gradually takes shape, tracing a historical trajectory from the confidence of Kipling and Haggard to the anxiety and ambivalence of Joyce Cary and Elspeth Huxley, and finally to the pessimism and disillusionment of Alec Waugh. Particularly interesting is the contention that British colonial fiction often served to provide the English reading public with an account of the nation's colonial rule. However, this thread of comparison across chapters is less obvious in the discussions of postcolonial literature.

 

Certain thematic and formal issues tie the concerns of these texts together, such as engagements with history and reimagining, and crises of identity. The commonality of postcolonial literatures emerges near the end of the book, notably in Harris's agreement with Fredric Jameson's argument that third-world texts are to be read as national allegories. However, this claim of affiliation with Jameson comes without acknowledgment that Jameson's position is controversial, subject to rebuttal by Aijaz Ahmad and others.

 

Unfortunately, there is little engagement with contemporary critical debates. The book lacks reference to scholarship on the construction of colonial power, the evolution of colonial knowledge, or reactions against colonizing. Instead, it consists of brief biographical sketches of each author followed immediately by a close reading of their novel. This tendency occasionally narrows the resonance of the analysis, and readings are sometimes informed by colonial contexts rather than indigenous ones.

 

The rationale and agenda for comparative postcolonial studies face a crisis, invoking debates about pedagogy, research, and cultural politics. The ambition of "Outsiders and Insiders" to enter into these discussions and make an empirically grounded argument about colonial and postcolonial formations is admirable. Its mixed success points, in part, to the difficulty of theorizing a basis for such fields and their research enterprise. The positive aspect of this turmoil is the development of new frameworks, such as Arjun Appadurai's modeling of the global cultural economy, which may support productive contemporary comparative cultural studies that account for but are not subsumed by the history of European imperialism.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Barbara Harlow's "Resistance Literature" (Book Note)

 

Barbara Harlow undertakes a compelling exploration in her book "Resistance Literature" to evaluate the significance of the emerging 'resistance literature.' In this ambitious work, she gathers the voices of poets and writers engaged in organized national liberation struggles across Africa, Latin America, and the Middle East. Harlow contends that literature, akin to armed resistance, plays a crucial role in reclaiming cultural history from the clutches of colonialism and imperialism. The authors of this burgeoning resistance literature, in their pursuit of sowing the seeds for a new social order, are, at each turn, crafting a fresh aesthetic that disrupts the very categories that traditionally define Western literature. A novel language is evolving, not only in response to external forces like invaders and aggressors and the regressive impacts of colonialism but also in addressing its own historical context.

In her modest preface, Barbara Harlow acknowledges that this work is a 'preliminary and explorative study.' Undoubtedly, the expansive task of examining the literature of numerous authors and countries is formidable. Nevertheless, she achieves her goal of bringing attention to literature that has been largely overlooked in the Western sphere.

The initial chapter of the book delves into the theoretical and historical backdrop against which this new literature is taking shape. The term 'resistance literature,' originally coined by Ghassan Kanafani in 1966 in his work "Literature of Resistance in Occupied Palestine: 1948-1966," frames the discussion. The subsequent four chapters are organized around specific genres: poetry, narrative, prison memoirs, and literature related to post-independence development.

 

The first chapter, particularly enthralling, focuses on the resistance poetry of figures such as Nicolás Guillén (Cuba), Ernesto Cardenal (Nicaragua), Balach Khan (Baluchistan), Jorge Rebelo (Mozambique), Pablo Neruda (Chile), ANC Kumalo and Dennis Brutus (South Africa), Antonio Jacinto (Angola), and Mahmud Darwish (Palestine). Harlow supports her argument that poetry stands as the "most powerful force for political mobilization" by drawing on the perspectives of critics and writers from the Third World. She emphasizes the diverse roles poets assume as historians, educators, and standard bearers of the struggle. Poetry, in this context, becomes a repository for popular memory and consciousness, with many of these poems imbued with imagery from the armed struggle. Harlow asserts that poetry need not shy away from being a call to revolutionary action.

 

In Chapters three and five, Harlow meticulously examines the 'narratives of resistance,' emphasizing that these narratives are distinct from the Western twentieth-century novel tradition that seemingly suspends individuals in time and space. She focuses on the literature dealing with historical specificity and delves into what she terms the literature of 'utopian vision and dystopian reality.' Within this context, authors such as Achebe (Nigeria), Thiong'o (Kenya), and Armah (Ghana) grapple with the realization of utopian goals and visions, exploring the aftermath of unfulfilled aspirations within the national liberation movements. However, it is notable that these chapters lack the clarity observed in those dedicated to poetry and prison memoirs, possibly due to the extensive volume of material, necessitating detailed historical contextualization for each country's narrative. This complexity requires Harlow to navigate through specific historical circumstances while extracting the broader significance of each narrative and its theoretical implications for resistance literature.

 

In the conclusive chapter titled "Commitment to the Future: Utopia, Dystopia, and Post-Independence Developments," the previously established generic divisions undergo dissolution, giving way to an exploration of literary texts endeavoring to envision potential futures marked by a radical transformation of familiar literary and political categories. Notably, narrative takes precedence in this discussion, eclipsing poetry, and leaving theater unexplored (an omission worth noting), along with various forms of popular, non-literary resistance culture. This discreet favoring of narrative over other literary forms carries implicit implications for both resistance literature and the field of critical studies, opening avenues for further exploration, particularly concerning the politics of genre.

 

"Resistance Literature" transcends mere literary analysis; it serves as a concise guide to the pressing political and cultural dialogues occurring within liberation movements. Barbara Harlow adeptly navigates through recent social and political developments in Lebanon, South Africa, El Salvador, Nicaragua, Kenya, Egypt, and Nigeria, providing readers with a succinct understanding. She portrays texts and culture as battlegrounds intricately connected to specific liberation movements and the collective endeavors of people to assert control over their lives.

 

Harlow goes beyond the apparent assertion that the literature of liberation movements is inherently political. "Resistance Literature" concurrently asserts the unavoidably political nature of critical commentary on such literature. In doing so, it challenges Western or First World critical practices to reevaluate their own political stances and the definitions governing their literary criticism. Consequently, "Resistance Literature" becomes a form of resistance itself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ghassan Hage's "White Nation:Fantasies of White Supremacy in a Multicultural Society" (Book Note)

 

Hage’s “White Nation: Fantasies of White Supremacy in a Multicultural Society” delves into the intricate dynamics of racial and ethnic conflicts, dissecting how these conflicts are navigated through the channels of state power. Departing from a conventional exploration centered solely on official institutions, discourses, and practices associated with governmentality, Hage directs attention to the nuanced terrain of imaginary practices in self-constitution. Within this framework, the imaginary life of citizens unfolds, shaped by complicit arrangements and desires both to govern and be governed.

 

A distinctive facet of Hage's analysis lies in the exploration of identity positionings encapsulated in the act of worrying. This probing into the realm of worry unveils the intricate web of affirming one's right to concern oneself with the nation, particularly its racial and ethnic composition. Through the act of worrying, White Australians reaffirm and re-empower themselves, asserting their moral guardianship over the ethnic fabric and cultural trajectory of Australia. Hansonism, as articulated by Hage, becomes a forceful manifestation of this vigorous assertion and protection of the right to worry, constituting a national fantasy grounded in expressions of anger over perceived loss of governmental control to Indigenous populations and the multicultural industry.

 

In "White Nation," Hage constructs a genealogy of Whiteness in Australia, scrutinizing its contemporary sense of crisis. The focus pivots away from examining how multiculturalism is experienced by migrants and redirects attention to the subjective formation and fantasy of the dominant white culture. The book adopts the perspective of a migrant boy scrutinizing Whiteness, revealing an undercurrent of anger and a Nietzschean desire to unveil the masks of benevolent humanitarianism, not only among Hanson supporters but also within the realm of multicultural supporters and anti-racists.

 

Hage's overarching aim is to expose the sophisticated fantasy of White supremacy that lurks beneath the veneer of those positioning themselves as "multiculturalist" and "anti-racist." Multiculturalism, in this narrative, becomes a mechanism that inadvertently serves to reconstitute the domain of white nationalist practices. "White Nation" provides potent analyses of contemporary culture, unraveling self-mystifying gestures of benevolence and ethnic tolerance. Within this narrative, acceptance is portrayed as a bestowed gift from a dominant white group, subtly asserting their power to be intolerant even as they seemingly practice tolerance.

 

Multiculturalism, as interpreted by Hage, signals the waning influence of Angloness as a form of symbolic capital, ushering in a new national elite that constructs cultural capital around a more cosmopolitan form of whiteness. The anger expressed by Hanson supporters is not solely directed at Aborigines and migrants but also at a perceived betrayal by a cosmopolitan white middle class that no longer advocates assimilation. This new cultural elite establishes markers of cultural capital by showcasing sophistication in appropriating and managing ethnic diversity for the nation's well-being.

Hage's investigative approach aims to transcend the prevalent discourse on racism, replete with moral avowals of non-racism, that has dominated public debates and stifled a deeper analysis of the nationalist dimension inherent in racism. His proposed solution involves a shift from an emphasis on 'belief' to a focus on 'practices.' Rather than viewing racism solely as a mental phenomenon, Hage contends that it is intricately entwined with governmental practices governing others, encompassing aspects such as culture, demographics, settlement patterns, and everyday behavior. In this context, he grapples with the nuanced distinction between the national and the racial, emphasizing the significance of spatial considerations.

 

Hage's analytical perspective navigates intricate distinctions between nationalist and racist practices. He contends that expressions of concern about, for instance, an excessive presence of Asians, are better understood as nationalist rather than racist practices. Even when racial conceptions of territory are employed within these practices, Hage argues that their essence is more aligned with nationalist ideals. He contends that the prioritization of space over race allows for a novel perspective on the motivations and shaping of such practices.

 

The theoretical advantage of this shift in focus, according to Hage, lies in its ability to underscore the governmental dimensions of racism, steering away from a moral critique that might oversimplify the analysis. Hage asserts that accusations of racism constitute a cultural practice intricately linked to efforts to forge new forms of nationhood and belonging. These endeavors are attributed to an alternative cosmopolitan middle class, characterized by policing fantasies centered on the meticulous management of diversity rather than assimilationist repression.

 

While Hage's work introduces novel perspectives, there are points of contention. Notably, his assertion that the belief in a hierarchy of races or cultures is not, in itself, a motivating ideology or imperative for action raises questions. This statement seems to downplay the potential impact of such beliefs as actionable ideologies, neglecting the power of racial ideology to shape emotions, desires, and practices among racialized subjects. Hage's approach, which seeks to subordinate racism to nationalism, has faced criticism for what some perceive as an undertheorization of the relationship between mental classifications and the practices in which they manifest.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sneja Gunew's "Framing Marginality:Multicultural Literary Studies" (Book Note)

 

In her work "Framing Marginality," Gunew adeptly engages with a diverse spectrum of theoretical frameworks to tackle the intricate intersections of multiculturalism and literature, effectively dismantling problematic boundaries within the study of Australian literature. Demonstrating a significant role as an academic, critic, editor, and anthologist in the ascendance of multicultural literary studies in Australia, Gunew imparts specificity to her book by delving into critical debates surrounding "NESB" (non-English-speaking-background) writers and their precarious standing in the evolution of an Australian literary canon.

 

The introductory section serves as a pivotal preamble, encapsulating critical dialogues pertaining to the categorization of "NESB" writers and their contentious positioning. Broadening the discourse, Gunew draws upon post-structuralist, post-colonial, and feminist responses to challenge the essentialism and universalism inherent in European modernity, offering a theoretical framework for understanding multiculturalism in Australian literature. Notably, Gunew eschews the term "migrant" writing, laden with connotations of transience and foreignness, in favor of "ethnic minority writing." This linguistic choice not only facilitates a more nuanced understanding but also strives to render cultural majority groups visible, thus effecting a deliberate denaturalization of the majority culture by foregrounding its own ethnic dimensions.

 

Engaging with contemporary critical theory, Gunew meticulously differentiates the dynamics of multiculturalism in Australian literature from its counterparts in Anglophone nations such as Canada, Britain, and the United States. Simultaneously, her exploration of literary multiculturalism resonates beyond the Australian context, as she grapples with questions of ethnicity and community, the interplay between ethnicity and subjectivity, ethnicity and race, and the role of ethnicity in the national imaginary.

 

The latter portion of the book serves as a direct response to the proclivity among critics to interpret ethnic minority literature as simplistic sociological studies, akin to oral testimonies rather than nuanced written artifacts. Gunew challenges the centralizing tendencies inherent in such reading strategies, advocating for more sophisticated interpretations of these texts. Substantiating her stance, Gunew employs Bakhtin and Kristeva in her analysis of Rosa Cappiello, while delving into Freudian and Lacanian psychoanalysis in the examination of Anna Couani's work. Another chapter is dedicated to poets Antigone Kefala and Ania Walwicz, further enriching her theorization of marginality and multiculturalism.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Richard H Grove, "Green Imperialism" (Book Note)

 

In "Green Imperialism," Grove traces the evolution of environmental attitudes in European colonies, spanning from the initial encounters with the tropics in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries to the emergence of a universalistic (scientific) environmentalism in the mid-nineteenth century. The book covers a broad geographical scope, encompassing early colonies established by the Portuguese and Dutch in the East Indies, British possessions in the Eastern Caribbean and South Atlantic, French Mauritius, and ultimately, British India. Grove, a scholar with extensive language proficiency, adeptly utilizes previously overlooked sources, presenting his vast scholarship with clarity and elegance that captivates the reader's attention.

 

The exploration begins with an examination of the island as a metaphor in European literature, exploring the evolving meanings attached to it after the fifteenth and sixteenth-century voyages of discovery. The book then shifts focus to the tropics and the early colonial endeavors of the Portuguese and Dutch. This chapter delves into the exchange of ideas and plants between Europe and the tropics, emphasizing the critical evaluation of European knowledge prompted by encounters with diverse environments and systems of thought. European classifications in botany and medicine often gave way to indigenous ones during this period.

 

The seventeenth century marks a turning point when Europeans became acutely aware of their potential impact on the environment. Experiences on St Helena and Mauritius revealed that environmental degradation, such as deforestation and the extinction of animal species, could have adverse consequences for food and water supplies, as well as disease incidence. These instances served as cautionary tales for subsequent colonial endeavors. In the eighteenth century, both the British in the Eastern Caribbean and the French in Mauritius engaged in systematic efforts to conserve plants and animals, developing a sophisticated and scientifically informed environmental discourse.

 

The latter part of the century witnessed a synthesis of French physiocracy, neo-Hippocratism, Newtonian physics, and Eastern conceptions of balance and harmony in nature. With increased European involvement overseas, an international environmentalism began to emerge in the nineteenth century, exemplified by the writings of Alexander von Humboldt, whose holistic understanding of natural processes profoundly influenced environmental attitudes and policies.

 

Notably, it was in British India during the 1840s that forest conservation became a significant and lasting aspect of colonial policy. After years of advocacy, colonial scientists, primarily East India Company surgeons, successfully persuaded officials of the economic and social desirability of forest conservation. They presented compelling evidence linking deforestation, drought, and soil erosion. By the late 1840s, many officials acknowledged the role of plantation agriculture and unrestricted timber felling in causing droughts and severe famines in India.

Grove's work reflects a growing disillusionment with conventional views of colonial science as subservient to and derivative of metropolitan ideas and institutions. In "Green Imperialism," he portrays a dynamic colonial 'periphery' where European knowledge underwent conceptual and empirical transformations through indigenous learning. Implicitly and sometimes explicitly critical of scholars following Edward Said, Grove challenges the portrayal of colonial science as a hegemonic knowledge form that appropriated indigenous learning for command purposes. He suggests that intellectual relations between rulers and the ruled were more dynamic and reciprocal than Said's Orientalism allows.

 

Contrary to Said's perspective, Grove argues that intellectual exchange was not distorted by colonial power relations to the extent claimed. Even in the late eighteenth century, cultural differences were both undermined and underpinned by Orientalist scholarship. Grove convincingly demonstrates that indigenous learning significantly altered Europeans' perceptions of themselves and their acquisitions, influencing mainstream European scientific thought. For instance, Hindu philosophy's holistic conception of man's place in nature and indigenous traditions in forestry and conservation informed many scientific critiques of colonial rule.

 

Throughout "Green Imperialism," Grove emphasizes the close intertwining of environmentalist agendas with ideas of social reform. Tropical islands provided an opportunity for Europeans dissatisfied with corrupt regimes in Europe to construct a moral economy where man lived in harmony with nature. Often rooted in religious motivations, environmental catastrophes like desiccation and soil erosion were viewed as retribution for earthly folly. The book thoroughly explores the religious dimension of environmental thought, highlighting the strong link between nascent environmentalism and dissenting Protestantism, which emphasized the individual's direct responsibility to God for the stewardship of nature.