A friend recently asked Eric and me for a list of ten history books that would allow an interested but non-expert reader to “understand America.” Leaving aside all of the obvious caveats, my list, which runs through the era of Reconstruction (sort of), can be found below the fold. I’d love to hear your thoughts on this question.
One more thing, when Eric presented his five choices, he quibbled with some of the particulars on my list. Which made me cry. So, if you want to see his list, you might be able to prevail upon him to share. Even though he’s notoriously very selfish.
1) Alan Taylor, American Colonies. I chose Alan’s book because I wanted to start with a survey. It seemed like a good idea to provide context, particularly in the colonial period, which lacks a unifying national narrative. But I also wanted a book that would include the West, Native people, and reach beyond the Anglo-American story. Plus, sucking up to a colleague is always a good idea.
2) Edmund Morgan, American Slavery, American Freedom. When I teach the survey, I often use as one of my themes what Eric Foner calls the “American irony,” which I take to mean the way that liberty expands for some, typically white men, at the expense of others, often people of African descent, women, Native people, or unfree white laborers. As this theme relates to slavery, Morgan got there first.
3) Gordon Wood, The Radicalism of the American Revolution. This was the choice that troubled me the most. There’s a lot wrong with this book, problems that are well-documented anywhere better historians can be found. Wood focuses relentlessly on white elites, ignoring, for the most part, everyone else. Still, if one wants to understand the causes and consequences of the Revolution, and one only has time to read one book, I think this is the place to start.
4) James McPherson, Battle Cry of Freedom. This was probably the easiest of my picks. The McPherson synthesis — that debates over territorial expansion and the fate of slavery moved in lockstep, pushing the nation toward civil war — seems unchallenged to me. And if you like shooting, you’ll find plenty of that as well.
5) William Cronon, Nature’s Metropolis. It would have been nice to include a book on Reconstruction. Foner’s Short History was the obvious choice. But I find that book hard to read and somewhat narrow. So I chose Cronon instead. The merits of Nature’s Metropolis are many: attention to urbanization in the opening and settlement of the West; the significance of commodity chains in tying a city to its hinterland; and the rise of futures markets in transforming the nation.
148 comments
November 24, 2008 at 2:00 pm
Eric
Oh, silence me, why don’t you?
November 24, 2008 at 2:04 pm
ari
Selfish and impatient, apparently. Which is to say, I wasn’t quite done with the post, bully.
November 24, 2008 at 2:07 pm
urbino
I would add Sydney Ahlstrom’s A Religious History of the American People, long considered the standard survey of the history of American religion. It came out in a new edition a few years ago, which is nice.
I’m not sure I wouldn’t also add some edition of the Federalist papers. Gives you a shot of primary sources that also happen to be highly readable.
November 24, 2008 at 2:10 pm
ari
A list of ten primary sources would be equally welcome, I think. That said, I probably think that because that’s how I teach the survey. And the universe revolves around me. In case you hadn’t noticed.
November 24, 2008 at 2:13 pm
ari
Also, urbino, have you read Nathan Hatch’s Democratization of American Christianity? I quite liked that book the last time I read it. But I really don’t know anything about the history of American religion. So my having liked it doesn’t mean very much at all.
November 24, 2008 at 2:16 pm
kid bitzer
“a list of ten history books that would allow an interested but non-expert reader to “understand America.”
1) crying of lot 49
2) sometimes a great notion
3) on the road
4) absalom absalom
5) innocents abroad
6) tom sawyer
7) huck finn
8) moby dick
9) two years before the mast
10) life of benjamin franklin
most of those meant in jest.
but seriously….
November 24, 2008 at 2:16 pm
urbino
Yup. Many moons ago. It is a very good read, but I wouldn’t recommend it as an introduction to the topic of American religious thought. It pursues a very particular thesis at the expense of much else.
November 24, 2008 at 2:29 pm
Charlieford
I wouldn’t call Hatch’s thesis “very particular.” He relates the way the American Revolution turned established religion inside out and up-side down, making it appealing to the “lower orders” (unlike in Europe), that is, both popular and populist, in everything from institutional arrangements to theology. Along the way he covers a lot of very important ground, from black religion to revivalism to Mormons and Arminianism. Probably the most essential book published in American religion in the 2d half of the century, and given the role of religion in the US, in society, culture, politics–for good and ill–exceedingly important.
November 24, 2008 at 2:29 pm
Wrongshore
Ooh, ooh! What’s a good survey of the wars against Native Americans from colonization to … well, I don’t know — where do they end? (Or rather, where does the 19th-century extermination and forced settlement quiet down and yield to the more activist struggles and negotiations of the 20th century?)
I haven’t the foggiest clue about where to go here, and there’s a project I’d like to research, so a starting-place recommendation would be especially appreciated.
November 24, 2008 at 2:29 pm
urbino
It probably would be useful, if the goal is to “understand America” in the context of current events, to add something(s) specifically on conservatism and liberalism. I don’t know this literature very well. Hofstadter and Kirk come to mind, but both seem very dated. Nash is useful on conservatism since WWII, but then you lose everything before that.
November 24, 2008 at 2:43 pm
urbino
I don’t disagree with you, Charlie, about the importance of Hatch’s book, but it is, nonetheless, and quite intentionally, an argument rather than an introductory survey. Since the total list is limited to 10 books, Hatch is not the book I would pick for the history of American religion.
November 24, 2008 at 2:49 pm
Josh
What do you think of Albion’s Seed?
November 24, 2008 at 3:00 pm
joel hanes
What’s a good survey of the wars against Native Americans
You could do far worse than to read Dee Brown’s Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee
November 24, 2008 at 3:07 pm
Buster
Meh, instead of Foner, why not read Du Bois’s Black Reconstruction–better prose, gives insight both into the Reconstruction period and into the writing of history in the first third of the 20th Century. (That bibliography still gets me, every time.) If not that, then Souls should make the list.
I’d also plug W.A. Williams Tragedy of American Diplomacy and W.A. Preston’s Aliens and Dissenters (the new revision with Preston’s updated afterword). But by now my bias is clear: authors who like the first initial W.
November 24, 2008 at 3:15 pm
jen
Hard to argue against Black Reconstruction, but what about Steven Hahn, A Nation Under Our Feet? Also, Elliott West’s Contested Plains is both a great book and one that works very well with non-historians.
November 24, 2008 at 3:16 pm
PorJ
It’s not *exactly* history, but it still remains (to my mind) perhaps the best book to “explain” America – then and now. Toqueville’s Democracy in America – not just for its incisiveness, but its also a great read.
November 24, 2008 at 3:24 pm
andrew
Not much on the early republic or antebellum periods. I guess the end of Wood gets into the former and the start of McPherson gets into the latter, but still. I wouldn’t pick Sellers or Watson – maybe one of the newer surveys works out. (I suspect you wouldn’t pick Wilentz; I don’t know about Howe).
I’d pick Wood’s Creation of the American Republic over Radicalism, partly because I’ve actually read it, but also because it’s very good at getting at the American political ideas behind the Constitution and constitutional thinking without trying to be about more. I think I have a bias towards focused books.
November 24, 2008 at 3:28 pm
Hemlock
I agree with Andrew. I’ve actually read every word of that book as well as Radicalism. My problem is not just one of scope but of methodology: imposing his framework for Creation on society just didn’t do it for me.
November 24, 2008 at 3:37 pm
ari
I like Creation more than Radicalism. But I think it’s not a great book for a non-specialist, particularly because Wood actually paid attention to his prose in Radicalism. DuBois is a good idea, for all those who suggested it. But I’m not sure that I’d replace Cronon. And yes, Andrew, it was hard to come up with something on the Jacksonian period (I actually think Wood is fine for the Early Republic and McPherson excellent for antebellum America). I wouldn’t use Wilentz because of the boosterism I read in the book. Sellers is a one-trick pony. And as much as I like the trick, it has a one-size-fits-all quality that doesn’t work very well for me. Also, the prose doesn’t really sing. As for Howe, he wrote in response to Sellers, when Wilentz would have been a better foil. Finally, Toqueville is wonderful, but now we’re back to primary sources.
November 24, 2008 at 3:40 pm
ari
Oh, I forgot to say how much I love and admire Contested Plains. Had West mentioned the Civil War in that book, connecting his story to the era’s broader conflict and meta-narrative (as he would later in his WHQ article/WHA presidential address), I might have considered replacing Cronon.
November 24, 2008 at 3:47 pm
andrew
But I think it’s not a great book for a non-specialist, particularly because Wood actually paid attention to his prose in Radicalism.
I suspect our difference of opinion partly depends on how interested the interested non-specialist is.
Obviously I can’t say anything more about Radicalism until I actually read it, so leaving aside the comparison, I do think you get a lot out of reading a tightly focused detailed study if it gets at underlying ideas/principles that go beyond that study, even if you have to work at it. I think of Cronon this way, too, though it is a smoother read.
November 24, 2008 at 3:53 pm
Walt
The only way true survey of American history is a punch in the face.
November 24, 2008 at 3:55 pm
ari
That might be right. But I have anecdata on my side: my mom liked Radicalism quite a lot. She couldn’t get through Creation, describing it as turgid and wordy. Now, mom’s a very harsh critic, but I do think Creation is a pretty tough read. That said, I think (and my graduate students will back me up — or else) that Creation‘s the better book. And for precisely the reason you suggest: Wood doesn’t try to do more with his material than his material allows. And what he does is quite a lot, of course.
November 24, 2008 at 3:57 pm
ari
Walt, if you’re going to stand in between me and Andrew, you’ll just have to join the group hug.
November 24, 2008 at 3:59 pm
Walt
After reading your comment, ari, my heart grew three sizes. You’ll be receiving the bill for the rib cage reconstructive surgery.
November 24, 2008 at 4:08 pm
andrew
My parents never read anything I recommend, so I’ve given up on that.
November 24, 2008 at 4:12 pm
Hemlock
In addition, his Carl Becker quote at the beginning of the Radicalism text irritates the hell out of me for various reasons. In all fairness, his extended summary of Bailyn’s Ideological Origins at the beginning of Creation is also bit bizarre. I dunno…I found Radicalism a bit too overloaded with anecdotes and pointless quotes. I actually liked his prose in Creation…a reader can tell the subject engaged him much more than the Appleby-Wood debates in the ’80s (which culminated in Radicalism). Truthfully: Creation takes logical reasoning skills, whereas Radicalism applies Creation signs to society…although logical reasoning is in there, to a certain extent.
I know David Waldstreicher assigns Wood’s article Rhetoric and Reality, which I find much more cogent and helpful than Radicalism. Waldstreicher isn’t a big fan of Wood.
In addition to BMWK, there’s also a recent “Indian Wars” synthesis (a bit lackluster). For the North American colonial period, I like the o.g. Wallersteinian “Europe and the People Without History” by Eric Wolf.
Speaking of synthesis texts, I noticed most of the books here fall into that category. How ’bout top five inductionist monographs:
1. Instead of Radicalism, how ’bout Alan Taylor’s William Cooper’s Town?
2. Instead of AC, why not Captives and Cousins? Demonstrates the trials and travails of ethnohistorical methodology.
3. Instead of AS, AF–why not Kolchin’s American Slavery?
4. Instead of Wilentz, why not Watson’s Liberty and Power? I bit dated and republicanish, but nonetheless a compelling read.
5. Instead of Nature’s Metropolis, why not Ari Kelman’s “A River and Its City?”
November 24, 2008 at 4:18 pm
SEK
Can I just say no, with thunder, to the Hofstadter recommendation? But I do like the idea that fiction—or an account that explicitly wrestles with American culture qua culture—be included in this debate. Not to get all early American Studies on you, but let’s rediscover Moby Dick as both tract and artifact.
November 24, 2008 at 4:20 pm
andrew
Two early republic/antebellum – more antebellum, I guess – books that I really like are Walter Johnson’s Soul by Soul and Patricia Cline Cohen’s The Murder of Helen Jewett (which might very well be too detailed for some people, but the depth of the research is incredible). I’m not quite sure they get you to “understanding America” but then I don’t know what that means.
November 24, 2008 at 4:25 pm
ari
I think we should spend a great deal of time talking about all of the various ways that Kelman’s A River and Its City overshadows Cronon’s Nature’s Metropolis. If you’ll wait a minute or two, I’ll enumerate them for you…
Okay, done.
November 24, 2008 at 4:28 pm
urbino
Instead of AC, why not Captives and Cousins? Demonstrates the trials and travails of ethnohistorical methodology.
Since the list is for a “non-expert,” I doubt the trials and travails of ethnohistorical methodology will be of keen interest.
Can I just say no, with thunder, to the Hofstadter recommendation?
Soitainly. It wasn’t actually a recommendation; more of a request for something better, but like in kind.
November 24, 2008 at 4:33 pm
urbino
What do you think of Albion’s Seed?
At whom was that directed, Josh? I assumed it was Ari, et al., but since nobody has addressed it, here’s my answer: it’s a useful book, but I wouldn’t put it on a reading list this small.
November 24, 2008 at 4:34 pm
andrew
I don’t know, American Political Tradition might still be worthwhile, if not on a list of 5 or 10 books only. I thought the Bryan chapter was kind of cruel, though, and I don’t have particularly strong feelings about Bryan.
November 24, 2008 at 4:40 pm
Hemlock
OK OK I just needed a substitute for Nature’s Metropolis and that’s what I came up with. Cronon’s erudition in that book is breathtaking, but I do like Kelman’s story and tight narrative focus. I get a bit lost in Nature’s Metropolis (those damn butchers)…on the other hand, Changes in the Land doesn’t require a navigator nor multiple outlines. Still, Kelman demonstrates the strengths of analytical focus for the ever-contracting-and-expanding “environmental” history.
November 24, 2008 at 4:46 pm
Hemlock
If you’ve read C and C, it also demonstrates how prose can mitigate the “non-expert” dilemma. Also, methodology often determnes what colonialism and the colonial perod IS, eh? C and C still should be on there.
November 24, 2008 at 5:34 pm
bookworm
Alas, it seems to me that the women are largely left out of both the list and the suggestions. As a student of early America, I can only recommend books on that period with any authority, and perhaps they fall into the “too narrow” category. Nevertheless, I would add Ulrich’s Midwife’s Tale; Boydston’s Home and Work; Norton’s Liberty’s Daughters; and/or Brown’s Good Wives, Nasty Wenches, and Anxious Patriarchs. All are readable and entertaining (for the non-expert) and cover important, oft-neglected ground.
I’d be interested to hear other suggestions for either women’s history books or (preferably) books that successfully integrate women into a larger historical narrative.
(Also, regarding the question about Native American history books… I like Richter’s Facing East from Indian Country. Oh, and I also second the inclusion of Ahlstrom. It’s huge but lucid and worth every page.)
November 24, 2008 at 5:41 pm
urbino
Patricia Bonomi’s Under the Cope of Heaven is a classic on Colonial relations between religion and politics, and the 2nd edition adds material on women’s involvement.
Still, I’m not sure it’s broad enough for a 10-book list covering all of American history.
November 24, 2008 at 5:45 pm
ari
I seriously considered Brown’s Good Wives and Richter’s Facing East but decided that they might not be the perfect choices if the goal is as broad as “understanding America”. I love Boydston’s book and teach it regularly to graduate students, but it’s pretty narrow. And Ulrich’s Midwife’s Tale is also an extraordinary piece of scholarship and a wonderful read, but probably not as broad as one might want (though that seems debatable).
November 24, 2008 at 5:45 pm
andrew
I thought of recommending Boydston’s Home and Work, but I also wonder if it’s too narrow.
November 24, 2008 at 5:48 pm
Hemlock
I debated between Anxious Patriarchs and Kolchin as an alternate to AS, AF. I used Kathleen Brown’s tome in a world history review essay rather than Morgan. She’s very effective in applying gender as a category of analysis, but the last section of the book (public/private honor) did not seem very well-founded in evidence. I do like her intellectual history at the beginning as well, but (again) the evidentiary base is a bit limited.
Alan Taylor does focus on female subjects…more a family than anything else. A Midwife’s Tale would run second to WCT. Perhaps we should distinguish between gender as a category of analysis and a focus on women (as if scholars haven’t been attempting to do that for decades).
November 24, 2008 at 5:57 pm
andrew
I suppose the question is, do you want a list made up of books that individually meet the standard of “understanding America” (broadly speaking), or do you want to make list that, as a list, meets that standard? Lists of the first type don’t necessarily add up to become lists of the second type.
November 24, 2008 at 6:02 pm
bookworm
It’s not a book I’d include on the list, but I would like to put in a vote for Breen’s Marketplace of Revolution as a great example of integrating women into a larger historical narrative, rather than providing a gendered analysis or separating “women’s history” into a narrative of its own (both of which seem stifling). This recommendation comes with the caveat, however, that I’m not a scholar of the American Revolution and therefore can’t vouch for the book’s merits in that regard.
I vote for leaving AS, AF on the list, but for mostly selfish and nostalgic reasons. That book changed my life as an undergraduate, and I still marvel at its prose and wish that I was capable of crafting something as readable and laugh-out-loud funny without sacrificing rigor or depth.
November 24, 2008 at 6:04 pm
bridgett
Captives and Cousins would make the non-specialist’s head pop off. I’d go with Ned Blackhawk’s Violence over the Land for the long and complicated sweep of things — I use it with students who are a) not from the West; b) in their first class beyond the US survey; and c) completely unversed in ethnohistory when we start.
Home and Work is an inexplicable absence from this list, although I might even (because I’m nice like that) take mercy on our poor unknown interested reader and recommend something like Sam Patch because it has a good narrative line. Depending on his or her interests, I might also throw on Ted Steinberg’s Down to Earth.
November 24, 2008 at 6:40 pm
Chris J
Interesting thread. I’m just an amateur historian (got the MA thing, stopped there), but perhaps I’ve got the perspective you need, that of an interested general reader.
Even before I read the comment thread I had American Slavery: American Freedom, Battle Cry of Freedom, and Contested Plains on my list. I also have to say I like Albion’s Seed quite a bit, if nothing else because of Fischer’s courage to float Big Theories that get us thinking. I also agree that Federalist Papers and Democracy in America would be ideal for the list.
I like the idea, too, of some fiction. I second Huck Finn and Moby Dick, and would maybe add Go Tell It On the Mountain.
November 24, 2008 at 6:40 pm
aep
Wilentz: Rise of American Democracy
Riley: Confronting Race: Women and Indians on the Frontier, 1815-1915
November 24, 2008 at 7:03 pm
kid bitzer
“and would maybe add Go Tell It On the Mountain.”
can’t believe i forgot the invisible man. got to have the invisible man.
drop faulkner–i didn’t mean that anyhow. ellison bumps him from the top ten, in a flash.
November 24, 2008 at 7:08 pm
teofilo
I love questions like this, even though they mostly just remind me of how limited and oddly specific my reading has been. I’d definitely agree with American Colonies and American Slavery, American Freedom. I haven’t read the rest of the books Ari names. I liked Captives and Cousins a lot, but I had a lot of background knowledge already when I read it, so I don’t know how good it would be as an introduction. If we’re including fiction, Moby Dick is a must.
November 24, 2008 at 7:09 pm
teofilo
Ooh, Invisible Man. Definitely. Don’t know how I forgot it either.
November 24, 2008 at 7:12 pm
ari
teo, have you read Changes in the Land? If not, you should, though I think your other reading in the field will make its argument seem rather obvious. Also, you should really read Nature’s Metropolis, particularly given your current interests (which might no longer be current). It’s a great book.
November 24, 2008 at 7:29 pm
urbino
That one keeps popping up in my Amazon recommendations list.
November 24, 2008 at 7:30 pm
urbino
Also, reckon we’ll ever get as far as, oh, WWI?
November 24, 2008 at 7:32 pm
Hemlock
Breen’s made several lasting contributions to historiography on the American Revolution. I’m sold on the British empire of goods, but not sold by his interpretation of “public sphere” at the end.
Check out his articles like “Baubles of Britain.” Quicker and more effective. Several economic historians are reframing the transition to “capitalism” in U.S. history. Naomi Lamoreaux’s stuff is a bit dense (inventive but questionable categories of analysis), but that’s a great place to start. Hasn’t reached narrative form for the reading public as of yet, but still useful.
I guess C and C covers a lot of territory (ws theory, ethnography, etc.), so I’ll concede the argument. However, Ned Blackhawk’s work is…well, too causally violent? I’d prefer the o.g. Richard White, Roots of Dependency (which Blackhawk seemingly overthrows), for introduction purposes.
November 24, 2008 at 7:32 pm
teofilo
I haven’t read Changes in the Land, though I’ve been intending to for a long time. It seems right up my alley. Nature’s Metropolis too, though I’m holding off on that one partly because it’s part of the curriculum in many planning programs so, depending on where I end up going to grad school, I might end up reading it without having a choice.
November 24, 2008 at 7:35 pm
andrew
But you should choose to read it anyway. Don’t let them take that away from you!
Also, I agree that Captives and Cousins is too much for the interested non-specialist, except the non-specialist who’s already been reading in the same area.
November 24, 2008 at 7:36 pm
teofilo
Also, reckon we’ll ever get as far as, oh, WWI?
We need to wait for Eric’s half of the list first.
However, Ned Blackhawk’s work is…well, too causally violent? I’d prefer the o.g. Richard White, Roots of Dependency (which Blackhawk seemingly overthrows), for introduction purposes.
Could you expand a little on this? I haven’t read any of Blackhawk’s stuff, but I’ve been curious about it. I’ve only read one of the sections of Roots of Dependency (guess which one) but I found it a very eye-opening experience. That was long before I read any of these other books.
November 24, 2008 at 7:44 pm
teofilo
I actually recommended Captives and Cousins to a visitor yesterday. He wanted recommendations for books on the “contact period” in this area, by which I discovered he meant the nineteenth century. (This was probably largely my fault. On the tour that day I went into more depth than usual on the early Anglo-American expeditions, which were during that time period, and I may have given the impression that there was no contact before then in the region as a whole, which isn’t true at all.) That’s actually the only book I’ve read about that period, so it was the only recommendation I had. He lives in the area and seemed to have quite a bit of background knowledge, so I think it’ll be a pretty appropriate introduction and he’ll do fine with it. The exchange was a little awkward, though.
November 24, 2008 at 8:43 pm
Hemlock
In Violence Over the Land, Ned Blackhawk provides Native American perspectives of history through four lens of the analytical category “violence.” He focuses on the easternmost Great Basin tribes, primarily on bands of Ute Indians, Western Shoshone, and (supposedly) Paiutes in northern New Mexico, Colorado, and California. Blackhawk argues that migratory bands adopted shifting survival strategies in the midst of Spanish colonialism and sustained their essential place in the power politics of the Spanish borderlands. The waves of violence engulfing Ute homelands, for example, facilitated the entanglement of Spanish functionaries in their web of political, economic, and military alliances. Utes attempted to monopolize trade routes in and out of the colony and participated in captivity slavery of neighboring tribes. The latter institution of pain engendered a Ute diaspora across the Great Basin which in turn generated the construction of native pasts structured by (or so he posits at the beginning) space rather than place, by time rather than ethnographic timelessness, and by exchange, adaptation, and hybridity rather than authentic Indianness.
Violence as a category of analysis ties the history of Utes and other Great Basin tribes with broader imperial histories and United States expansionism. Violent deformations of native communities and landscapes became defining features of the colonial experience through time and across space. In this purview, Native American history assumes a synonymy with world history and the violence of nationalism. The denouement of the monograph offers two alternatives to formulating narratives of this spatial Native American history. During the nineteenth century, anthropologist Julian Steward constructed social Darwinist narratives of Ute and Western Shoshone history that reinforced cultural hierarchies. Two non-reservation Western Shoshone family histories counter this narrative. They demonstrate that native families retained filial bonds and tribal identity despite dispossession of reservation land and resources throughout the twentieth century.
Blackhawk admits to continuities in violence before and after contact but downplays violence as a causal force prior to the cultural encounter. According to Blackhawk, “violence characterized Indian relations before Spanish conquest, but its use and destructive capacities remained comparatively localized before the arrival of Spanish –introduced metals and horses.” Archaeologists base this conclusion on sustained studies of sedentary cliff-dwelling communities such as Chaco Canyon and Mesa Verde. However, migratory bands participated in Spanish military endeavors during the post-contact period and seemed to have experience with violence in ritual and war. The cliff-dwelling findings also ignore cultural diversity between migratory and sedentary populations. Blackhawk’s study thus privileges migratory bands such as the Utes over populations outside of his specified zone of interest, such as the Paiutes. The violence wrought by colonial transformations subsequently reshaped specific indigenous populations rather than the Great Basin as a holistic native landscape.
Blackhawk also admits that the perpetuation of strategic and economic self-interest as a principal intentionality in the affairs of all indigenous populations requires further explication. Conflict crippled the Spanish colonial enterprise and facilitated trade and military coalitions. The Ute and Comanche, for example, formed an alliance for geopolitical and cultural reasons. Comanche groups at a distance from New Mexico reinforced pre-existing trading networks with Ute groups while a shared Shoshone dialect facilitated intertribal communications. Comanche and Ute military bands attempted to take control of New Mexican economies, resulting in violence and the first instances of captivity slavery. Self-interest and cultural affinity contributed to cycles of violence in New Mexico. In response, the Navajo and Apache allied themselves with the Spanish in a continuation of pre-contact indigenous geopolitics. Still, in Blackhawk’s analysis, violence remains the primary causal factor.
Blackhawk’s emphasis on structural causation provides new insights into Native American “victimization.” The origins of captivity slavery serve as an appropriate example. Blackhawk argues that gendered slavery originated from “violent transformations engendered by colonial technologies, economies, and warfare”—structural reasons that support “victimization” arguments. He then argues that New Mexican Spanish and Indian traders had a proclivity for female captives and children because adult males proved too difficult to transport. Thus his argument posits that Native Americans played a role in sustaining the slave trade and avoids victimization critique revolving around the contention that such practices evolved from pre-contact practices. In addition, violence as causal structure rather than intentionality reformulates simplified notions of victimization.
Unfortunately, the bulk of the evidence comes from secondary sources and published primary sources. In his endnotes, Blackhawk notes that “Steve J. Crum provides the most complete assessment of Western Shoshone history.” He duly cites Crum in every instance that he mentions the Shoshone. But he fails to distinguish his work from Crum’s book as well as from Crum’s general historiography. The organizing principle propelling the monograph, violence, facilitates the construction of novel interpretations and arguments that challenge Crum’s assessment. But the reader is left with little new in this analysis.
The second most-cited secondary source in the book, James Brooks’s Captives and Cousins, analyzes the captive slave system in New Mexico and the wider Spanish borderlands. Captivity slavery, founded on patriarchal notions of honor and kinship, produces human beings as units of exchange. Human commoditization, whether for kinship or for mercantile capitalism, inherently contains some forms of violence. In Brooks’s monograph, Native Americans’ involvement in this violent trade derived from pre-contact practices of covering the dead. But Brooks falls short of attributing causation for captivity slavery in the Spanish borderlands to kinship exchange. Instead, the onset of Spanish colonialism and the violence associated with world-systems generated slavery across New Mexico. Thus both Blackhawk and Brooks associate violence with the formation of institutions and cultural change in the Spanish-U.S. borderlands. The only difference is that Blackhawk posits a conceptual synonymy between causal violence and Spanish colonialism. Nonetheless, he proceeds to challenge Brooks’ pre-contact thesis and places blame on structural violence/Spanish colonialism.
Moreover, native-generated sources take a backseat to Spanish colonial documents and secondary sources. Many of the archives, such as the Twitchell Collection in New Mexico, hold a small amount of documents written by Native Americans. But explorers, traders, and slavers serve as the provenance for most of the native-generated sources in the monograph. The one major avenue for native voices in the book are the twenty-seven reels of selected documents pertaining to Ute Indians, 1851-1917, housed at the Bancroft Library at the University of California, Berkeley. Other than these scant offerings and evidence from one major archive, Blackhawk focuses on the harbingers of violence as sources rather than the native vehicles for its socio-cultural consequences.
Gregory Smoak, in a lengthy review in Western Historical Quarterly, Blackhawk’s book squarely against the “New Indian History” historiography. During the 1980s and 1990s, scholars of indigenous populations across the Americas shifted interpretations and research endeavors from demonstrating the dominance of colonialism to proving Indian agency. This obsession with agency spawned Ramon Guitterrez’s analysis of gendered Pueblo cosmologies and Spanish colonialism as well as Richard White’s French-Algonquian mutual misunderstandings that resulted in a “middle ground.”
Blackhawk’s book attempts to move beyond “New Indian History” in order to reestablish the socio-cultural import of Euroamerican and U.S. colonialism on indigenous populations. During the nineteenth century, for example, Mexican independence engendered a crisis in the New Mexican-Ute borderlands. The inability of the newly-christened Mexican state to define its boundaries generated a multinational competition among Anglo, American, and Mexican traders. Their presence facilitated the expansion of a trade circuit in fur, horses, and slaves, reaching from eastern New Mexico to Los Angeles. Blackhawk brings the horror of captivity slavery alive with glimpses into this human trafficking during the Mexican and U.S. periods of Great Basin history. The Utes responded with displeasure to these shifts in New Mexican fortunes due to the diminishment of troops and gifts. This collective Ute defiance soon degenerated into violence as Indian and Euroamerican women and children continued to experience the brutality of the slave trade along the Old Spanish Trail.
The reemergence of the slave trade demonstrates the strengths and weaknesses of Blackhawk’s book. Although his reductionist thesis emphasizes the causal role of violence, he examines the affects of colonialism primarily through institutions forged by both Euroamericans and Native Americans. The application of structural violence also brings the horrors of colonialism to life but also negates native voices in the analysis. In fact, a subaltern silence permeates most of the monograph, albeit for a small amount of sources.
Blackhawk further manipulates word choice in order to provide a seemingly novel interpretation of an area recently covered by his fellow ethnohistorians. The Great Basin envelops a defined space that extends beyond the New Mexican “Spanish borderlands” in James Brooks’s Captives and Cousins. Still, many of the tribes and places documented in this account dovetail—to a large extent—with Brooks’s and Crum’s studies. Finally, Blackhawk posits a conceptual synonymy between Spanish-Mexican-U.S. colonialism and violence-as-causation. Scholars well before Ned Blackhawk have already proven that Spanish colonialism and violence went hand-in-hand—and that they wrought changes in native landscapes that continue to define the U.S. as a space in world history.
My opinions change sorta like the wind, and Smoak isn’t the greatest source for historiographical categories. Plus, I really respect his work, just nitpicking (I’m a grad student here).
November 24, 2008 at 9:02 pm
teofilo
Thanks. Food for thought, certainly.
November 24, 2008 at 9:27 pm
Gordon fucking Wood… « Blurred Productions
[…] a comment » Over at the Edge of the American West, Ari has a list of five books that “explain” American history (pre-1876). The list is as good as any – arbitrary but insightful. I’m familiar with all but one of the […]
November 24, 2008 at 9:28 pm
shaku
jon butler’s awash in a sea of faith might be a good alternative to hatch and bonomi on early american religion — it’s both broad and important in the historiography.
November 24, 2008 at 9:31 pm
Michael Turner
Is it the same list if you qualify it as “understanding America for non-Americans”? What do you get if you qualify it as “deprogramming Americans from standard myths about America?” The same list? I wonder.
If nobody else meets the requirements here, let me stand in as a non-American. For much of my life I resolutely ignored American history. I grew up in Berkeley, California (which I’ve been given to believe has only recently established diplomatic relations with the U.S.). I’ve been living in Japan for over a decade now, long enough to almost be able to see out of one eye as a Japanese person might. This kind of life experience (or the lack of it) has made me think about the problem of understanding America more than most, perhaps. It’s also made me realize that understanding America for non-Americans an important problem, given that America is a very important nation in this period of history. But I can also stand in as “American hoodwinked with the standard mythology” (see below.)
I can’t really offer much more here, after all. By any other measure than as “volunteer experimental animal,” I’m pathetically underequipped for this discussion. History has mostly seemed to me a piling-on of particulars, and I’ve always been more attracted to theories. If somebody says that a particular history book is “causally violent”, that only makes me want to read it. The only history course that ever strongly piqued my interest happened to me by accident. It was a W. Civ. course I took only grudgingly because it was a graduation requirement. At the time I was a callow-youth type of Libertarian, and the professor announced at the outset that his treatment would be in a “Marxian” (economic determinist) framework. That announcement set my teeth on edge, made me combative, but . . . more than any other single humanities prof, he saved me from rancid-middle-age type Libertarianism, for which there is no apparent cure. But it was precisely because his treatment was overarchingly theoretical (and probably “causally violent”, if I understand that phrase correctly) that I got interested at all. At the end of any tale of sound and fury, I want a take-away. Anything else, no matter how well presented, will strike me as fundamentally idiotic.
Now to the problem of deprogramming Americans. One of the more eye-opening things I’ve read recently about American history concerned pre-colonial government. The reason it was a revelation for me is that it addressed a bias I didn’t even know I had: a tendency to find the gestation of the republic almost entirely in one a brief, dramatic flaring — in documents drafted by geniuses — than in longstanding habits of thought and governance.
The ways in which colonial government evolved American democracy — in parallel with Britain, sometimes also in defiance of it, and (during British civil turmoil) somewhat independently, starting from long before formal independence — are pretty well documented. Yet the standard American narrative is still, “We were oppressed by the British, but one day we couldn’t stand it anymore, so we kicked their asses, then we invented democracy and our constitutional rights.”
Do I even need to say what’s unfortunate about this myth of miraculous transformation of a polity through miraculous political intellect? On the secular side, you get your Paul Wolfowitz types: “We just go in, free them from tyranny, give them our model of government written down here on these pieces of paper, and voila! It worked when we did that for ourselves, didn’t it? If anything, they get a free ride on all we’ve learned!” On the Christian conservative side, this Founding Fathers Did It All myth feeds that pernicious notion of America as favored by God, as founded on principles that were divinely (or at least Biblically) inspired — after all, how else could fallible men have produced such an infallible set of stone tablets for us?
America seems to me the source of so much good and so much trouble, with misunderstandings by both Americans and non-Americans at the root of much of the trouble. Taking the time to make two lists for the two different audiences (if necessary) would be a small price to pay for even a little more understanding on both sides. Even if one list could do it all, the goal, “make understanding of America possible in 10 books,” is probably going to come to grief unless it addresses misunderstandings of America, by Americans and non-Americans, as themselves very important in understanding America. History probably wouldn’t feature quite as many ignorant armies clashing by night if the armies hadn’t been so ignorant and benighted.
November 24, 2008 at 9:38 pm
Smith Michaels
i would absolutely not recommend hatch’s democratization of american christianity. it is a lot of things – like an apology for evangelical christianity – but not a very good survey.
i’d recommend “in the name of the father” by francoise furstenberg. it does any excellent job of tying slavery and american nationalism together and how washington’s memory/legacy was used – and abused – as a prop for both. and it goes well into the early republic. and prose is relatively accessible for the non-specialist.
i really do love furstenberg’s book; it had a deep effect on me and was one the inspirations for me embarking on this grand graduate school experience.
i really wouldn’t change anything about ari’s list though. it’s pretty solid – though morgan’s book might be too old at this point and i haven’t read cronan’s.
November 24, 2008 at 9:52 pm
teofilo
What do you get if you qualify it as “deprogramming Americans from standard myths about America?”
Morgan and Taylor definitely stay. Depending on what myths you’re aiming at, you might add something by Francis Jennings.
November 24, 2008 at 9:55 pm
teofilo
morgan’s book might be too old at this point
On the contrary, I read it quite recently and was amazed at how relevant it seemed. Scholarship has advanced, of course, but to the extent that it ever had lessons to be learned for the non-specialist they’re still there.
November 24, 2008 at 9:56 pm
ari
Cronon stays, too. And probably McPherson. Neither of them, nor the two mentioned by teo, are boosters.
November 24, 2008 at 9:58 pm
ari
And I agree with teo about American Slavery, American Freedom, a beautifully written and brilliant book that, like McPherson, stands largely unchallenged.
November 24, 2008 at 9:59 pm
bookworm
Butler’s Awash is good. I’d also recommend Hall’s Worlds of Wonder, Days of Judgment, Bremer’s bio of John Winthrop, and Foster’s The Long Argument (which would also add a transAtlantic perspective). But then I could recommend books about religion in early America all day long. Noll’s America’s God is interesting, but not probably appropriate for the task here.
I’d like to revisit andrew’s question about the nature of the list (“a list made up of books that individually meet the standard” vs. a “list that, as a list, meets that standard”). It seems to me that no individual book can meet that standard, except perhaps a decent survey text (of which there are lamentably few). I’d suggest that the second version is the list I (and, I suspect, the original questioner) would want to read.
I could create a list of ten must-read books for understanding puritan New England, or for understanding American intellectual history, or for African-American history, or for understanding current themes in American historiography, or whatever. That kind of specialization would leave the lay-reader with an impossible task. And we can’t possibly cover even a modest time period from all angles and analytical approaches in a list of only ten books.
But a list of books that, as a whole, helps us “understand America” forces us to find ten books that not only cover all of the relevant time periods, but also the salient analytical approaches and the broad range of historical actors. That means we could include, say, Boydston, and we could also have something like Berlin’s Generations of Captivity; both of these are relatively specific and would therefore not qualify individually as books that help us understand America in any broad sense, but taken together with, say, Richter and Wood and Morgan (and maybe Menand’s Metaphysical Club) would begin to give the reader an sense of the many facets of American history and the many approaches that can be taken to it. It is, after all, this depth and breadth that keeps us all engaged (and employed, if we’re lucky).
November 24, 2008 at 10:00 pm
andrew
I guess I should read it, then. But I think it may have fallen off a number of reading lists (as it did mine). I haven’t not read it for any reason – just read other books.
November 24, 2008 at 10:01 pm
Smith Michaels
teofilo, you’re probably right.for example i just had to “read” (as in see how far i can get through a 600+ page book in a week with a bunch of other work to do) “slave counterpoint” and one of philip morgan’s (no relation to edmund?) main reference works was af/as.
November 24, 2008 at 10:03 pm
andrew
That last comment of mine was to ari’s at 9:58.
But since I’m commenting again, I’ll just add that Berlin’s Many Thousands Gone is good. The Atlantic perspective works well with Taylor’s book.
November 24, 2008 at 10:05 pm
bookworm
Oh, and on the subject of deprogramming…. I cast my vote for Lambert’s Founding Fathers and the Place of Religion in America. Not as provocative as Jennings, but a solid bit of scholarship that does a great job of decoding what we collectively mean (and don’t mean) by “freedom of religion.” I recommend it every time someone starts blathering on about how “our nation was founded by people seeking religious freedom” and therefore it’s acceptable to post the Ten Commandments in a public school classroom. (And it’s also far better than some of the recent popular histories on this subject.)
November 24, 2008 at 10:10 pm
Smith Michaels
bookworm: “And it’s also far better than some of the recent popular histories on this subject”. you couldn’t *possibly* be talking about jon meecham, now could you?
November 24, 2008 at 10:23 pm
urbino
I agree with the Jon Butler recommendation, though I’m sticking with Ahlstrom as my pick for what will almost certainly be a single book on the history of American religion.
November 24, 2008 at 10:28 pm
ari
Now I have to read Ahlstrom. And Furstenberg. Drat you all!
November 24, 2008 at 10:32 pm
andrew
Now would be the perfect time to recommend people with Northern European names: Myrdal and Gjerde and for fiction Moberg, and so on. (Not that I’ve read any of them.)
November 24, 2008 at 10:35 pm
Smith Michaels
ari: at least furstenberg’s book is pretty short, all things considered. there is even an audiobook version.
November 24, 2008 at 10:35 pm
Buster
Man, this list of authors and recommendations is still crazy pallid, folks. Let’s try a few more ideas:
C.L.R. James, American Civilization. The style is uneven, but it’s an amazing attempt by an Afro-Trinidadian to come to terms with what America is all about. It’s no Black Jacobins, but it is a tremendous effort to synthesize popular culture, literary interpretation, political economy and history. The reading of Moby Dick herein is nothing to be sneezed at, though it is more coherent in James’s Mariners, Renegades and Castaways. If nothing else, shouldn’t there be one offering that isn’t by an establishment historian written in that establishment historian voice? (For this reason, the Hahn substitution for Du Bois isn’t worthwhile; plus, the Doctor was a better writer.)
John Kuo Wei Tchen’s New York Before Chinatown is an exciting, grounded look at racial formation and Asian American social history from the colonial period on down. Would break up the black-white (and occasionally red) view of race and racism in America. Slightly dense, but rewarding.
Ronald Takaki’s Iron Cages has some problems, I think, in terms of theoretical coherence, but it gives a reader plenty to think about, even if it is a little dated.
And it’s a little after this period, but I’ve always thought Linda Gordon’s The Great Arizona Orphan Abduction is a compelling primer on the practice of history and the intersection of issues of class, race, ethnicity, religion, gender, and nation. And a good, quick read, considering.
November 24, 2008 at 10:37 pm
ari
an audiobook version
Now you’re talking.
Also, both Gjerde and Boydston, who have been mentioned in this thread, died recently. Very sad, in both cases, as Gjerde was supposed to be a greatl guy, and Boydston, who I knew well enough to call a mentor, was a wonderful person
November 24, 2008 at 10:41 pm
urbino
I haven’t read Lambert, bookworm. My M.A. was focused on church and state, so I’ve read or otherwise been exposed to a great deal of the literature — up to about 1998, that is, when I left grad school to work for The Man. Since then, I’ve taken a long hiatus from the topic. To a large degree, reading that literature is like reading a flame war. You just want to slap both sides.
Lambert looks interesting, though. And I see Derek Davis wrote one of his blurbs, and I know Derek quite well.
On this subject, I really, really recommend going to the primary sources whenever possible. There’s just way too much special pleading in the secondary literature. A nice, manageably sized collection of primary sources on church and state in America is Wilson & Drakeman’s Church and State in American History.
Again, though, in terms of a list of 10 books, it’s too specialized. I mean, we still haven’t even made it to WWI.
November 24, 2008 at 10:43 pm
ari
You raise a tough issue, Buster. I thought about Takaki, but his work, which is great, always feels fragmented to me. I haven’t read New York Before Chinatown, so I don’t know what to say about that one. But Gordon’s Great Arizona Orphan Abduction is an excellent read, as you say, and a powerfully argued book. On the other hand, it’s pretty narrow.
So on to the tough issue: I’m not sure that I’d want to argue that only people of color or women can write about gender or the experiences of non-whites. Given that, Taylor writes well about Indians (and other non-whites) and women, Morgan about African-Americans, as does McPherson, and Cronon doesn’t really write about people at all. Of the list, then, I think only Wood’s work is “pallid.”
And finally, I’d note that this is not my list of the five best books by historians; it’s a list of books that a non-expert might read to begin to understand American history.
November 24, 2008 at 10:43 pm
urbino
ari: at least furstenberg’s book is pretty short, all things considered. there is even an audiobook version.
Which is good, because Ahlstrom is longer than War and Peace.
November 24, 2008 at 10:45 pm
ari
I suppose, urbino, this is where I say that any books about the period after Reconstruction are just journalism. But my current book might be journalism more than history, so I’ll pass on the easy pickings.
November 24, 2008 at 10:47 pm
urbino
I suppose, urbino, this is where I say that any books about the period after Reconstruction are just journalism.
One assumes, then, this is also where eric comes in and hits you on the nose with a rolled up newspaper.
November 24, 2008 at 10:49 pm
andrew
I’m a bit surprised by the lack of immigrants and reform movements, given the time period. I guess immigration usually gets more attention after the Civil War. And much of the reform is under religion and abolition.
November 24, 2008 at 10:49 pm
ari
a rolled up newspaper
Like I said, journalism.
November 24, 2008 at 10:51 pm
ari
The best book on antebellum reform is still an article, I think: Jack Thomas’s “Romantic Reform”. It’s pretty great, albeit a bit dusty.
November 24, 2008 at 10:52 pm
urbino
Well played.
I guess immigration usually gets more attention after the Civil War. And much of the reform is under religion and abolition.
I’d go along with that.
November 24, 2008 at 10:54 pm
urbino
It just occurred to me that since the request was for a list that would help the reader understand America (not just know its history), I think I might suggest The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism.
November 24, 2008 at 10:55 pm
andrew
One would need a certain type of internet access to read that article.
November 24, 2008 at 10:59 pm
ari
Oh, sorry. The cite is: John L. Thomas, “Romantic Reform in America, 1815-1865” American Quarterly, Vol. 17, No. 4 (Winter, 1965), pp. 656-681.
November 24, 2008 at 10:59 pm
ari
I really do wish that JSTOR would throw open its gates.
November 24, 2008 at 11:03 pm
Buster
I’m not sure that I’d want to argue that only people of color or women can write about gender or the experiences of non-whites.
I don’t think that I did. (If I did think that, my work, for one, would be in a lot of trouble.) My point was rather that oftentimes, though not always, people of color (or women) write in a different voice, with different intentions, investments and audiences. Looking at these works provide a useful counter-balance both in terms of content, but also in terms of understanding the practice of American history. Black Reconstruction is exemplary in this regard.
I also don’t think Gordon’s book is so narrow, but maybe I just got suckered by that opening epigram about history and a grain of sand.
And I certainly wasn’t knocking any of the books that you listed–I think Cronon, Morgan and Wood are great suggestions. Taylor I haven’t read and McPherson I’ve never finished (perhaps a little too much of the shooting to hold my interest–my aversion to military history may well be my downfall if I ever have to teach a survey).
November 24, 2008 at 11:10 pm
ari
Oh, I might have misread you. And I certainly didn’t feel attacked. I really did think you raised a good question. I just don’t have a good answer. As for McPherson, I usually skim the parts about the battles. Not because I don’t like military history (surely Silbey is around somewhere), but because I don’t understand it. Anyway, I always have the sense that McPherson includes the shooting because he has to. That’s the market for Civil War books. But his material on the homefront, and politics especially, is where the book is at its best.
November 24, 2008 at 11:21 pm
andrew
I’ll have to remember to look up that reform article the next time I’m around AQ.
November 24, 2008 at 11:34 pm
ari
andrew, if you send me an e-mail at kelmanari AT geemail DOT com, I can send you the article as a pdf attachment, if you’d like.
November 24, 2008 at 11:36 pm
bookworm
I agree with you, urbino, that primary sources are necessary for understanding American religious history. I’ve spent the better part of the last three years up to my eyeballs in primary sources as I work on my MA (focusing on women in early American religion, if you hadn’t already gathered), however, and I’d be hard-pressed to name any that are unbiased or lack “special pleading.” (I’d also only be able to name a few that I would give anyone for pleasure-reading.)
Further, I don’t think primary sources are the best route for our mythical/imaginary non-expert to take in this particular task. I suppose we *could* include collections of primary sources, but even the best headnotes fail to contextualize these sources in a way that would make them useful to our lay-reader in the same way that a skillful monograph might be. Besides, if we start claiming that primary sources are sufficient or even superior to secondary ones, we risk putting ourselves out of work. After all, isn’t our training designed to help us put these sources in context, draw connections between them, and point out what the casual reader might miss? Isn’t that what makes us “experts”?
Regarding the inclusion of Weber…. I would argue that we would also, in that case, have to include Turner’s “Frontier” and Welter’s “Cult of True Womanhood” and Miller’s Colony to Province, to name just a few. These works might give the reader a sense of where the scholarship has been, and would be useful if we were providing a list of intellectual history sources, but I’m not sure they would necessarily help the reader “understand America.”
All of this being said, in my one sad and narrow area of expertise, I will agree with you that given only one book I’d have to stick with Ahlstrom as an introduction to and overview of American religious history.
November 24, 2008 at 11:39 pm
bookworm
Now that I’ve unloaded on urbino, I notice that no one has suggested anything (unless I missed it) on labor. Any suggestions?
November 24, 2008 at 11:40 pm
andrew
E-mail sent. Thanks, ari.
November 24, 2008 at 11:43 pm
andrew
I’m not sure that if you read Turner’s “Significance” just by itself, you come away with a better understanding of America.
November 24, 2008 at 11:47 pm
grackle
this is where I say that any books about the period after Reconstruction are just journalism. This raises a fascinating question, partly because it’s true, although more charitably one might say they are just chronicles. But certainly, as a purported civilization, we haven’t as yet digested numbers of decisions made at the time of the civil war and of reconstruction, so the prospects for objective distance dwindle the closer one comes to the present.
James Deetz’s In Small Things Forgotten would do well on the list for the colonial period.
Another question, if one pursues the ten books, where do these next fifty herein mentioned fit in – are they substitutions or do they serve to fill out the list? Or would one feel trapped in redundancy and better go in other directions?
November 24, 2008 at 11:47 pm
bookworm
Right, that was my point. I don’t think Weber or Turner (or Miller) are appropriate for this list we’re debating for that very reason.
November 24, 2008 at 11:47 pm
grackle
out italic!
November 24, 2008 at 11:52 pm
Dialogue Driven :: The most fun I’ve had in a while* :: November :: 2008
[…] can be found here. […]
November 24, 2008 at 11:57 pm
urbino
I don’t really disagree with any of that, bookworm. My comment about primary sources and special pleading was intended to apply to the history of church and state, only. In my experience, the secondary literature on that subject has an unusually high rate of either self-deluded or intentionally misleading histories; unjustifiable claims following from personal preference for a particular outcome are more the rule than the exception. It drove me to distraction.
Good luck with the thesis, by the way.
November 25, 2008 at 6:56 am
Western Dave
Since I have to deal with this on a regular basis teaching US History to 10th graders my choices have worked something like this:
Changes in the Land, (they read excerpts)
Ulrich, Midwife’s Tale (sets up Market Revolution to come, used to be the summer reading)
Slotkin trilogy (they get a watered down version, but the course theme is basically the creation of whiteness)
Hietala, American Exceptionalism and Empire (my basic argument on late Jacksonianism comes from here)
In the past I’ve tried mixing in Gutierrez when jesus came… this year I tried mixing in Captives and Cousins. Middle Ground never flew with this group. So I’ve got a fifth book to play with. I’ve so thoroughly assimilated American Slavery American Freedom that that is probably the fifth book and I’m just not admitting it.
November 25, 2008 at 7:00 am
Western Dave
Sorry, not American Exceptionalism and Empire but Hietala, Manifest Design: American Exceptionalsim and Empire. I love this book.
November 25, 2008 at 7:44 am
Charlieford
Precisely because Hatch has an argument (as opposed to a sprawling encyclopedia, like Ahlstrom)–and because that argument is not only right, but immensely revealing–I’ll still stick with him. To call the book simply an “apology,” however, is a little bizarre–it’s as much a critique as anything else, with John Williamson Nevin emerging as Hatch’s dyspeptic, sardonic alter ego.
As for conservatism, I wonder if it isn’t time to give Hofstadter a second look. In any event, The Right Nation: Conservative Power in America by Adrian Wooldridge and John Micklethwait, is awfully good.
November 25, 2008 at 7:58 am
Michael Turner
I’m not sure that if you read Turner’s “Significance” just by itself . . .
Hey, I never claimed to be significant at all! So why are you sneering at — oh, wait, I see, you’re talking about something else here.
By itself, no. I think you’re right. But if you read good commentary on “Significance” (about the significance of “Significance”, if you will), I think it can be quite illuminating about American national character.
I used to wonder why, as an American here in Japan, I tend to click far more easily with people from Hokkaido than with any other Japanese. Having since read some history of post-Meiji Hokkaido, and Turner’s “Significance” (and commentaries on it), I have an almost-satisfying answer: with Hokkaido-jin, I’m dealing with the grandchildren of Japan’s only memory of a (retained [*]) frontier; I’m with people who place more value on the spirit of “I’d better be heard, or I’m voting with my feet.” This is in comparison to the prevailing Japanese personality strain: “If I keep quiet, if I don’t say anything that could rub somebody the wrong way (and that’s practically any opinion, isn’t it?), surely my meal ticket and my social status are safe.”
I won’t pretend to offer any particularly nuanced comparison, and I’d appreciate it if people didn’t take my stance as any kind of apologetics for Japanese imperialism. I’m aware that “frontier” is a problematic term, now — ethnocentric and nationalistic. For an interesting source of possible parallels between Hokkaido and the American West, including treatment of the indigenous population, see The Conquest of Ainu Lands, by Brett Walker.
[*] The Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere could be considered a kind of conceptual or cultural frontier for Japan, not just an imperial possession; in the early years of Japan’s extension of influence into China, that wasn’t such a stretch. I get a vaguely similar “frontier” vibe from the backwashed children of that particular Japanese expansion. I find they are also among the severest critics of the behavior of the Japanese military later on, who undermined all the goodwill — and then some — generated by the spirit of the first movers from Japan into China.
November 25, 2008 at 9:24 am
Smith Michaels
charlieford, i would have to respectfully disagree with you about hatch’s book – in that i don’t consider it to be particularly right. what hatch is talking about in his book isn’t even democratization but popularization. it is difficult to say that hatch is wrong that protestant groups became increasingly popular in character after the revolution; but it is another thing to say that those movements were democratic in nature. i would argue that they weren’t and to argue that they were is disingenuous. this could certainly be nitpicking and my political-science undergrad background coming through, but i think it’s important critique.
there is too much celebration in hatch’s book – look at how great and democratic early american protestants were! – for my tastes. it’s the same sort of near hagiography that ari detects in wilentz’s rise of american democracy. hatch seems to me to want to drawn a laudatory straight line from lorezno dow to billy graham and – update hatch – rick warren. doing so neglects the contested and complicated nature of religion in this period.
there is some value in the book – hatch’s drawing attention to rural movements and the inclusion of mormonism are just two – but there is still a lot to be desired. basically, i would say that some of hatch’s evidence and insights are valuable but his thesis and framework is not.
in my opinion.
November 25, 2008 at 11:10 am
Charlieford
Well, Michael, you’re onto something important there. My idea of a good book isn’t one that can’t be argued with, but one that provokes useful argument (and I’d say Hatch does that). But, before going any further, I’m wondering: In rejecting Hatch’s appelation of “democratic” to these groups, are you judging them by the norms and achievements of their day?
November 25, 2008 at 11:12 am
Doctor Science
Albion’s Seed is a book I’ve given as a present several times, always to great effect. I absolutely think it belongs on the list, because its social history gives the context — the bones, as it were — for the political history on the rest of the list. For me, American Slavery, American Freedom can be subsumed into Albion’s Seed — that is, ASAP fleshes out a subset of the ideas in AS.
And for giving real context to your context, I think you also need to include 1491.
November 25, 2008 at 11:17 am
Doctor Science
And if you’re looking for a book to open the door to discuss issues about women, the frontier, land use, industrialization, and education (to name a few), there is no source better IMHO than Laura Ingalls Wilder. If you have to pick just one volume, it should probably be either Little House on the Prairie or The Long Winter.
I am not kidding.
November 25, 2008 at 11:23 am
ari
I read my son both Little House and The Long Winter about a year ago. They’re extraordinary books, to be sure. But it’s hard to know what to make of the treatment of Native people. My son was five at the time, and it was difficult to treat the racism as a teaching moment. Teaching against the text is difficult enough with college students; with kindergartners it might be impossible. Either that, or my son isn’t a very subtle reader of texts. That said, the discussion here is about adult, non-expert readers, so I’m not sure what I’m on about.
November 25, 2008 at 11:40 am
urbino
My idea of a good book isn’t one that can’t be argued with, but one that provokes useful argument (and I’d say Hatch does that).
Fair enough, but our reader is a non-expert. I may be reading more into that than is intended, but I’ve taken it to mean someone with no background in American history (other than the usual survey courses), and no awareness of the scholarly literature or the debates therein.
That being the case (or my assumption, at least), it’s hard to see how Hatch would provoke an argument from that reader. He or she is not going to have the tools to argue with him, or even sufficient knowledge in the field to be provoked.
November 25, 2008 at 11:50 am
Smith Michaels
well, charlieford, i’d say yes and no. personally, i think the important insight of hatch’s book isn’t that the movement’s he’s talking about are democratic but popular. democratic movements – then and now – can be popular. but not all popular movements are democratic. if hatch had made his book “the popularization of american christianity” i wouldn’t have the same problem with his thesis and framework. “democracy” is a loaded word – then and now – and hatch’s use doesn’t fit. in my opinion.
i agree with your definition of a good book – though i’d term it “valuable” versus good. but that’s nit picking. :). there is a lot to learn from hatch’s book as wrong as i think he may be. but for a list of books for a non-specialist, i think you need to go with a book that has less problems, is more comprehensive, and broader in scope.
again, this is all just my opinion.
November 25, 2008 at 11:56 am
Charlieford
Oh, whatever.
November 25, 2008 at 12:06 pm
Charlieford
That “whatever” was for urbino btw. Smith, I don’t disagree with what you say, but I still think your general, interested reader will get more from Hatch than Ahlstrom, and it will have more useful resonance with other things in their experience of the United States (past and present). I feel preety confidant in saying that, as I used it a few years ago with a class of adult students, non-history majors, and they were stunned by how revelatory it was. As for the “democracy” vs. “populism” thing, that’s a critical question, but I think even a general reader will note that Hatch uses each term (petty much interchangeably in his text), and that can generate some spontaneous interrogation of his text, as in, “Are these terms really synonymous? How do they differ? Is each equally applicable?” Finally, I would say, in Hatch’s defense, that “democratization” is applicable, if what we’re indicating is a development that involves not the ultimate achievement of democracy, but rather a process wherein relatively undemocratic institutions become relatively more democratic.
November 25, 2008 at 12:06 pm
teofilo
And for giving real context to your context, I think you also need to include 1491.
Agreed, and I considered mentioning it earlier in the thread. I think including it would have to depend on just how many books you’re putting on this list and what the aim of it is, though.
November 25, 2008 at 12:13 pm
Smith Michaels
charlieford, i think you and i are probably in more agreement than it appears. i certainly agree that hatch’s book has teaching value – in fact i encountered the book in my early american religion seminar this semester. i think our real differences are just in matters of emphasis and personal taste; you’re focusing on the negatives of hatch’s book, i’m focused on the negatives.
November 25, 2008 at 12:21 pm
kid bitzer
“i think our real differences are just in matters of emphasis and personal taste; you’re focusing on the negatives of hatch’s book, i’m focused on the negatives.”
i think that difference would be a matter of tense or aspect.
November 25, 2008 at 12:25 pm
Smith Michaels
bitzer: true enough
November 25, 2008 at 12:34 pm
Doctor Science
teofilo, the mandate is “10 books to help an interested but non-expert reader to *understand America*.” I think for that purpose I would drop the Gordon Wood, which is, as ari said, over-focused. I don’t know if there’s a Revolution-through-Constitution equivalent of McPherson.
If we’re including fiction — which I certainly would — I don’t see how Moby Dick gives an enormous amount of “understanding America”; Huck Finn is the lynchpin. I’m racking my brains, but I can’t think of a fiction about 20th-century America that is as pivotal and illuminating. The defining works of 20th-century culture are on film, IMHO.
November 25, 2008 at 12:40 pm
andrew
For an interesting source of possible parallels between Hokkaido and the American West, including treatment of the indigenous population, see The Conquest of Ainu Lands, by Brett Walker.
I’ve only read some of Walker’s book on wolves, but my understanding is that his Ainu book is informed by a lot of the so-called new western/new colonial American history, which partly came out of a long argument with Turner’s thesis (this applies more to the new western than the new colonial history). So that makes sense.
But if you read good commentary on “Significance” (about the significance of “Significance”, if you will), I think it can be quite illuminating about American national character.
Certainly. But I’d still hesitate to recommend Turner and commentary on Turner in a list of 10 books.
November 25, 2008 at 12:55 pm
SEK
Dr. Science, I’ve half-written a follow-up thread focused on fiction in which I include both Huck Finn and Moby Dick, so I’m not saying one belongs while the other doesn’t—but if it’s down to a choice between them, the Melville contains both a larger sociological cast than the Twain and a scope whose its ambitiousness is in keeping with a particular strong strain of American self-identification (and differentiation from European models). Huck Finn, from a generic perspective, is predictable, that is, understandable to anyone familiar with European (particularly English-speaking) literary traditions; whereas Moby Dick is a great, teeming mess, a mass of cetological, sociological, and maritime observation that can never quite contain itself. But it’s an American mess, as all those early Am. Studies folks pointed out when they championed it. Huck Finn, well, it’s essential, but it does tend to make people feel good about opposing slavery a few decades after the Civil War ended, which is fine and all, but not the sort of presentist preening we should encourage. (Esp. when most people don’t realize it’s a post-Civil War novel.) (And by “people,” I mean students.)
This comment feels, I don’t know, a little condensed—almost like I squished seventy years of literary and cultural criticism into a paragraph. Bah.
November 25, 2008 at 12:56 pm
teofilo
teofilo, the mandate is “10 books to help an interested but non-expert reader to *understand America*.”
Indeed, but just about every term in that mandate is subject to considerable interpretation and argument, is all I’m saying.
November 25, 2008 at 12:57 pm
Ahistoricality
I read my son both Little House and The Long Winter about a year ago. They’re extraordinary books, to be sure. But it’s hard to know what to make of the treatment of Native people. My son was five at the time, and it was difficult to treat the racism as a teaching moment. Teaching against the text is difficult enough with college students; with kindergartners it might be impossible.
We went through the series recently as well, at about the same age. It was relatively easy to deal with the overt racism, especially since there are tons of children’s books with counter-messages. The more subtle racism in the portrayals of Native Americans still troubles me, but we mostly dealt with it by discussing the whole frontier/land grab issue and pointing out that there was a lot of hostility and misunderstanding at work. I’m not sure, still, how it all will pan out; after reading the entire Little House series almost all the way through twice, we’ve moved on to the Lord of the Rings cycle. There are arguments about the racism of those portrayals as well, I know….
November 25, 2008 at 1:04 pm
andrew
I’m partial to The Gilded Age. Not a great novel, but a quick read, and you get speculators and politics.
I’ve been reading Moby Dick for almost 10 years now. As long as I don’t finish I can still believe they’ll get that whale.
November 25, 2008 at 1:10 pm
ari
How old are your kids, Ahistoricality, if you don’t mind my asking? I’m re-reading my now-six-year-old son The Hobbit. But I think the LOR trilogy is a bit too violent and frightening for him. The racism, which is more subtle than in Little House troubles me less. But maybe that’s naive.
And I’m with you, andrew, I love The Gilded Age. The Octopus is also excellent. McTeague I can live without.
November 25, 2008 at 1:23 pm
Charlieford
Group-hug for the mini-seminar on Hatch?
November 25, 2008 at 1:26 pm
andrew
I was a bit disappointed in The Octopus. Not the best style – I’m probably biased because I associate it as a railroad novel with Zola’s La Bete Humaine, which at least in the translation I read moves along quite smoothly – a little too much reaching for the epic, and I don’t know how you can write about the railroad in California without more attention to politics. That last point is probably unfair, given the general lack of politics – and I mean attention to things like legislative politics, not just being political, so to speak – in 19th century American lit, but still it was a glaring lack, given the research and reading I had been doing on railroads around the time I read the novel.
November 25, 2008 at 1:27 pm
kid bitzer
don’t worry, andrew, ahab gets the whale. it turns out it was all a big misunderstanding, they have a long heart-to-heart over cappucino while sitting in this adorable cafe, and in the final scene they’re going to the justice of the peace to get married.
actually, the unending quest that’s been on my mind is that dream that the invisible man has, where he has won the scholarship after the appalling boxing match, his future looks bright, he opens the briefcase, then opens the envelope containing his letter of recommendation to the college of his dreams, and on the letter it says….
to whom it may concern: keep this *******-boy running.
unfuckingbelievable coup de theatre. i just hope obama isn’t haunted by it in the way that i am.
November 25, 2008 at 2:29 pm
Smith Michaels
charlieford: sounds good to me :)
November 25, 2008 at 4:37 pm
urbino
I’m nearly always up for a hug.
November 25, 2008 at 5:38 pm
Dan
Perhaps “My American Century”, Studs Terkel?
November 25, 2008 at 5:41 pm
Ahistoricality
Ari: The Little Anachronism just turned seven. My spouse is a master story-teller, and we worked up to both Hobbit and LotR by telling abridged versions of the story first, then, in the case of Hobbit, introducing the musical version (Glenn Yarborough songs are lots of fun). Then the book. After a couple of runs through Hobbit, we’d mentioned the subsequent story in bits and pieces enough to generate some interest, and my spouse again undertook to tell an abbreviated version (which worked up to about two hours per telling, usually spread over multiple bathtimes). Then my spouse went through LotR again themselves, and concluded that the story, while violent in places, and scary, shouldn’t be overwhelming. The most amazing thing about it, really, is that the L.A. is sticking through it; they’re deep into the third book, after about two months in which that was the vast majority of the family reading.
I’m quite sure we’re not doing the movies, though I really should watch them again to be sure. There’s an emotional reserve of text which you lose with the visceral visual/auditory experience.
November 25, 2008 at 5:43 pm
urbino
My spouse is a master story-teller
I’ve long wished I had that skill.
November 25, 2008 at 6:47 pm
Ahistoricality
Yeah, both in my writing and my teaching….
November 25, 2008 at 8:13 pm
Doctor Science
SEK:
The reason I favor Huck Finn as opposed to Moby Dick for this purpose is that both landscape and characters are so varied yet characteristically American, and the ending of the book, though IMHO a literary failure, is a failure of an extremely American type. I think MD is a better *novel*, but HF is more helpful in understanding what we are and where we come from, what kind of people America has tended to grow up and what kind of stories we tell ourselves about who we are.
November 25, 2008 at 8:19 pm
kid bitzer
i think that the botched ending of huck finn is characteristically twain, but not really especially american.
life on the mississippi gets lost and grinds to a halt in exactly the same way, after a comparably brilliant, deliriously wonderful first half.
it was just something about the guy, or about his experience of his life. (to be precise: i think he had not made his personal peace with the outcome of the civil war. part of him knew that the good guys had one; another part lamented the loss). it all starts out in unmatched glory and glee; it all winds up sad and sordid.
tidy endings are just as american as messy ones are; we’ve been peddling climactic shootouts and riding into the sunset for longer than there have been movies.
but maybe your phrase “of an extremely american type” allows that there are multiple american types, in which case we don’t disagree.
November 25, 2008 at 8:21 pm
Doctor Science
Also, SEK, in what way does Moby Dick contain a “larger sociological cast” than Huck Finn? The thing that jumps out at me is that Moby Dick contains neither women nor children: it is 100% guy with no non-guy elements, so calling it sociologically large strikes me as, well, wrong.
Not that there probably isn’t a paper to be written on “Huck/Jim and/or Ishmael/Queequeg: the Interracial Bromance of American Literature”, if Eve Sedgwick didn’t write it already.
November 25, 2008 at 8:25 pm
zunguzungu
It feels like thread-jacking to address the original question, but I’m amazed no one’s mentioned Charles Sellers’ The Market Revolution. I found it to be a total revelation when I discovered it, and it’s definitely a broad sweeping synthesis type narrative.
November 25, 2008 at 8:27 pm
zunguzungu
Doctor Science, the “bromance” is the major premise behind Leslie Fiedler’s Love and Death in the American Novel. Fear of women and the American man as perpetual child and so forth.
November 25, 2008 at 8:40 pm
urbino
Would Washington Irving get a shout-out on the fiction list?
November 25, 2008 at 8:49 pm
urbino
Oh, and add me to the list of those not so keen on including MB. It’s always felt deeply, deeply alien to me, so it’s hard for me to see it as particularly representative of Americanness. There’s the puritanical, moralizing streak, but that’s about as far as I get. And the cetological chapters — wtf?
I like the suggestion of The Gilded Age. Another option might be The Rise of Silas Lapham.
November 25, 2008 at 8:56 pm
ari
zz, somehow you missed my comment of 3:37 on 11/24, in which I dismiss Sellers’s brilliant book with a couple of sentences, so deft (and crass) am I.
November 26, 2008 at 8:09 am
zunguzungu
Damn these long threads! I can see what you mean, although for me that one trick was exactly what the doctor ordered. And plus, you’ve got to remember, you’re in the unfortunate position of having read many more of these books than I have. Everything looks much clearer from a position of blissful ignorance.
November 26, 2008 at 9:27 am
Charlieford
Random observations on the novel-debate: There’s no way to choose between HF and MB, each–along with the greatest of them all, THE GREAT GATSBY–is absolutely essential. HF is warm, and scary; MB is scary, and vertiginous; each is deeply American in its own way, though HF’s sensibility is in large part still ours, whereas MB’s barely survived the rise of “other-directed personalities.” (Btw, Riesman’s LONELY CROWD deserves consideration–if not automatic inclusion–for any such list.) Personally, I believe the end of HF isn’t flawed at all, it’s perect: that it’s mundane, uncomfortable, and unsatisfying is exactly as it should be. Boys cutting capers aren’t going to find solutions to slavery, even small ones. More specifically, Tom hadn’t experienced what Huck had on the river, so he picks up exactly where he left off (character-wise) when he’s reunited with Huck. And, that Tom, with his natural charisma, remains the leader, while Huck, with all his wisdom and experience gained on the river falls right back in line as a follower when he’s back in society, bespeaks a very deep but uncomfortable truth, and that’s why we don’t like the ending. But I really think anything else would be a lie.
November 27, 2008 at 5:37 pm
Rick B
Thanks for the lists.
When I took American history in grammar school it was taught by coaches out of textbooks that passed the Texas Education Commission screening as valid to create good nationalist Americans. Needless to say, I found American history boring to the extreme add went towards economics and psychology in college. Add accounting, recognize that the study of management is actually social psychology and I ended up with an MBA and a strong disgust towards the garbage academics pushed as American history. Now European history is quite fascinating, and so is military history. Since in my opinion results of the Great War created modern European and world history, I started looking at the causes of WW I. I still can’t give the same understanding twice in a row of what caused it. But the French Revolution together with the Industrial Revolution, filtered through the military advances demonstrated in the American Civil War, have a lot to do with it.
I’ve backed into American history by way of trying to understand American politics. This year I have read Willentz’ American Democracy, followed by “What Hath God Wrought” which seems much broader and less Andrew Jackson-centered. So this list fits exactly where my immediate interests lie. Thanks for the fascinating discussion, and I’ve just blown about $30 on used books as a result of this discussion.
Thanks again to all of you.
By the way. Is it reasonable to suspect that the American view of individual rights, as developed by the anti-slavery movement, is the precursor of woman’s rights, homosexual rights, and the international movement towards Human Rights? Is there a thread there that runs through the Bill of Rights and forward through the anti-slavery movement, then woman’s rights and desegregation?
If so, I’d guess that it has British and French parallels and interactions. But I have no clue where I’d look for writings on that subject. Just a random thought.