Review Appadurai 2
Review Appadurai 2
Review Appadurai 2
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to American Journal of Sociology
Martin Albrow
Roehampton Institute
Permission to reprint a book review printed in this section may be obtained only from
the author.
The Global Age: State and Society beyond Modernity. By Martin Albrow.
Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 1997. Pp. ix1246. $45.00
(cloth); $17.95 (paper).
Saskia Sassen
Columbia University
1412
the categories, the history, the narratives, the self-reflexivity that mark
the global age, an age the author sees as discontinuous with the past, and
that can constitute an account that is neither modernist, postmodernist,
or antimodernist? The narrative of modernism is, after all, exquisitely
adept at incorporating innovation, rupture, change, and the promise of
new futures, while at the same time denying the possibility of an alterna-
tive account to that of modernism. How do we, as scholars of the contem-
porary, escape this double bind? Albrow is one of a rapidly growing num-
ber engaged in such an effort.
The modernist account of globalization is constructed in familiar cate-
gories: world government, world markets, world order, global culture,
late modernity. For Albrow none of these are adequate. The issue is not
their partial nature; any account of change is partial. It is, rather, that
they carry too much of the modern past and too little of the difference
we experience today. For Albrow, the modern age has finished. But his-
tory has not finished: a new age with its own dominant features and shape
has taken over. But we can only recognize it in the pretheoretical, in
people’s experiences and reference points, not in philosophical or socio-
logical treatises. The narrative of the theorists of modernity “can never
permit us to enter a new age. . . . The future has to be a continuation
of past trends,” and postmodernist theorists—though willing to contem-
plate the end of an epoch—“cannot find a foundation for the new narra-
tive” (p. 80).
Three propositions specify Albrow’s effort. (This my reading rather
than his schema.) First, a new age is upon us but we cannot as yet narrate
it. It is characterized by our recognition of the globe as a material condi-
tion of finitude rather than a universal idea. Second, this new global age
is not a necessary continuation of what preceded it—yet another step in
the history of modernization. It is an accumulation of ruptures that have
thrown us into another experiential mode—one that is marked by this
finitude rather than by the notion of process, and hence potential, at the
center of modernization. In this Albrow differs from other theorists work-
ing on the question of globalization, notably Anthony Giddens, for whom
it is part of modernity. Finally, it is not that the global age challenges
the axial ideas of modernity but rather that it signifies the disruption of
the conditions that made axial ideas central.
These propositions are swimming in a vast disquisition about sociologi-
cal theory, social philosophy, and the marking features of the global age.
This is not a tight analytic development of the subject, but rather a set
of lectures by a very learned sociologist intent on being followed by every-
one in the room. The readability of the text is somewhat deceptive in
that Albrow’s arguments are based on erudite knowledge of several spe-
cialized literatures. But here he is intent on making it all terribly clear.
I miss the density and pregnancy of a more scholarly, yes, tortured, treat-
ment of the subject.
There is no analytics. This is what I miss the most and find the weakest
part of this in many ways excellent book. At times, Albrow refers to ana-
1413
lytic categories that are inadequate for a specification of the global age.
This is the case, for instance, with “system,” not just national or micro
systems but also world-system analysis. Albrow emphasizes that the con-
ditions of the global age are not equivalent to global systems—and that
the categories of society and system have never been as antithetical as
they are today; indeed, he calls for the recovery of the social rather than
the systemic and for a theoretical reelaboration of the category society
as it currently enters into growing tension with systems such as the na-
tion-state.
He recognizes the work of some scholars who have done analytic work
on these questions: Leslie Sklair’s research on institutional frames with
a global operational base, or the research on global cities and the decon-
struction of national territories they imply, as well as research on transna-
tional forms of ethnicity and membership. But the author does not do
the hard work of putting together the analytic elements that are being
developed by a variety of scholars around these questions. I am not call-
ing for quantitative modeling, just good analysis. For instance on the
question of the nation-state, a central one in this book, there is new schol-
arship that is contributing important theoretical and methodological ele-
ments centered on the analytic uncoupling of terms taken as equivalent
under modernism: national territory and the exclusive territoriality of the
national state; extraterritorial jurisdiction and institutional denationaliza-
tion; the formation of privatized forms of cross-border governance and
international law. In the case of categories having to do with the local
or the community, the new scholarship is contributing the analytic extri-
cation of these terms from the presumed necessity of locational proximity;
while we have probably always had localizations that are deterritoria-
lized, and, in that sense, not centered on locational proximity, globaliza-
tion has certainly multiplied their occurrence and made them part of the
register of people’s experience—from the transnational professional class
to cross-border modes of membership. Albrow does posit the unavoidable
indeterminacy of any analytic theory of globalization, but this is still a
rather different matter from no analytics at all.
Craig Calhoun
New York University
1414
1415
1416
In 1989, 1990, and 1991, the Ford Foundation sponsored a series of con-
ferences in India entitled “The Terms of Political Discourse in India.” The
conferences were interdisciplinary, involving a variety of social science
perspectives (history, sociology, economics, and political science) along
with participation by a variety of activists (social workers, journalists,
political activists, teachers, lawyers, etc.). By 1992, final draft essays were
received from various participants in the conferences, and the essays were
divided into four groupings for the four volumes in the series Social
Change and Political Discourse in India: Structures of Power, Movements
of Resistance. Volume 1 addresses issues of state power and polity. Vol-
ume 2 addresses issues of economic development (both industrial and ag-
ricultural). Region, Religion, Caste, Gender, and Culture in Contemporary
India is volume 3. Volume 4 (forthcoming) will address issues of class
formation and political change in postcolonial India.
The editor for the series, T. V. Sathyamurthy, nowhere explains (at
least in vol. 3) why it has taken nearly a decade to publish these essays,
especially insofar as they address issues that change from month to
month, much less year to year. Contributors to this volume were invited
to provide an update to their essays in June 1994, but even so, the updates
are themselves seriously outdated in view of the actual publication date
1417
1418
D. R. Howland
DePaul University
1419
1420
Raymond A. Mohl
University of Alabama at Birmingham
1421
found the displacement theory useful because it kept the blacks and the
Hispanics bickering and divided and thus undermined ethnic coalitions
that might challenge establishment power. The Cubans, however, dis-
puted the displacement thesis, claiming instead that they took jobs no
Americans would take, that they created their own ethnic “enclave” econ-
omy that absorbed later arrivals, and that they were not responsible for
the racism and discrimination that had kept African-Americans at the
bottom of the economic pile.
A second major claims-making discourse emphasized the uniqueness
of the Cuban immigrant experience in South Florida. The Cubans, it was
argued, have been the most successful immigrant group in American his-
tory; they came with a strong work ethic, they vigorously opposed com-
munism in the Cold War era, and they displayed an entrepreneurialism
that reinvigorated Miami’s declining tourist economy. The success of the
Cuban success story, Croucher contends, can be attributed to the repeti-
tion of this positive image of the Cubans by several self-interested groups.
Obviously, the Cubans themselves staked out their claim to favored treat-
ment, and they have done so effectively over almost 40 years. Similarly,
the federal government constantly asserted the special status of the Cu-
bans as exiles from a communist dictatorship—as freedom fighters who
deserved American gratitude. The federal government, of course, was in-
terested in using the Cubans for propaganda purposes during the Cold
War against Fidel Castro. Finally, Miami’s business elite looked favor-
ably on the entrepreneurial Cubans—the bankers, lawyers, builders, real
estate developers, international businessmen, and other entrepreneurs—
who had helped make Miami the “capital of Latin America.” Send us
thousands more like them, one Anglo businessmen proclaimed, an appar-
ent testament to the story of the Cubans’ entrepreneurial success.
A third, and final, image-making discourse focused on the degree to
which symbolic ethnic conflict in Miami takes place in an increasingly
global context. Croucher uses the uproar caused by the visit of Nelson
Mandela to Miami in 1990 to make this point. In Miami to speak at a
union convention, Mandela was snubbed by Miami area municipalities,
which normally recognized visiting digniaries with an official welcome
and the symbolic “key” to the city. The problem was that Mandela had
publicly praised both Castro and Palestinian leader Yasir Arafat, thank-
ing them for their long support for the cause of black South Africa. Con-
sequently, Miami politicos kept their distance, hoping thereby not to of-
fend local Cubans and Jews, both powerful voting blocs in the Miami
area. However, blacks were outraged and soon mobilized a three-year
black convention boycott of Miami area hotels. Croucher contends that
this ethnic dispute was played out in the context of Miami’s emerging role
as an “international” or “global” city. According to this analysis, events in
South Africa, Israel, Cuba, or Haiti generate symbolic ethnic discourses
in Miami.
Croucher has done a good job of elaborating the several different com-
peting ethnic discourses in the Miami area. Few would argue with her
1422
basic point that such claims and images are socially and politically con-
structed. However, Croucher makes grandiose claims for her theoretical
framework, which she says makes it possible to comprehend the “dimen-
sions of power and urban politics that tend to be otherwise obscured by
conventional frameworks” (p. 3). I remain unconvinced of this claim of
methodological or theoretical superiority. Moreover, although asserting
her objectivity as a social scientist, Croucher lets her opinions filter into
the text. For instance, she apparently disagrees with the displacement
thesis, claiming that there is no evidence to support it. If she dug a little
deeper in traditional archival sources (Florida state archives, NAACP
papers, papers of political leaders such as Florida Senator George A.
Smathers), such evidence might have been found. If blacks were not dis-
placed from the local job market in the 1960s, for example, how is it that
Cubans dominated the service jobs in the tourist industry by 1970,
whereas most of those jobs had been held by blacks in 1960?
The book has other problems, as well. The text is heavily burdened
with postmodernist jargon, which often clutters the writing. Perhaps
some readers will understand what Croucher means when she writes that
Miami has become a “crash site” in the new global economy. Her first
chapter laying out her methodology and theory is rambling, confusing,
and tedious. An appendix describes her original research—60 interviews
with local politicians, attorneys, business people, journalists, elected offi-
cials, and so on, people she says “were most cognizant of ethnic relations
in Miami” (p. 201). Why ordinary people—say, black workers displaced
from jobs by Cubans—would not be “cognizant” of ethnic relations is
not explained. Croucher’s second chapter presenting historical back-
ground on South Florida and Miami is filled with errors of fact. A few
examples: Spanish explorers did not encounter Seminole Indians on their
arrival in Florida, but the earlier Timucuans—the Seminoles came 200
years later; blacks had not achieved “significant civil rights gains” in
Dade County by midcentury; Miami had been a tourist destination since
early in the 20th century, so how could it have a “fledgling tourist indus-
try” in the 1970s? Those familiar with Miami history will be surprised
to see Luther L. Brooks identified as a “community leader.” For over 30
years, the white Brooks was black Miami’s biggest slumlord; he headed
the Bonded Collection Agency, which collected weekly rents on over
10,000 slum housing units. Croucher implies that José Martí organized
Cuba’s independence struggle from Miami, which is unlikely, since Martí
died fighting in Cuba in 1895, one year before Miami was founded as a
city. In its focus on image making in modern Miami, this book has much
to recommend it. However, it also has numerous shortcomings.
1423
William Alonso
Harvard University
1424
Who can use this book? It seems to me that the potential users are (1)
those who want themselves or their students to know and understand
Los Angeles; (2) those who are interested in particular ethnic groups, es-
pecially those seldom covered in the literature (e.g., Middle Easterners,
Central Americans); (3) teachers in other parts of the United States who
may want to convey to students some of the diversity of the current
American experience; (4) graduate students, as an exemplar of measure-
ment and mapping techniques. (It is a pity that the software packages
used are not cited because, although none of the statistical methods are
particularly abstruse, without prepackaged software they become essen-
tially inaccessible to most researchers.)
I will conclude with a final comment. Many of the essays stress the
economic difficulties that the Los Angeles region experienced in the late
1980s and early 1990s, as defense cutbacks and other structural changes
cut off what had seemed a permanent boom. They draw from this largely
pessimistic implications for the economic and social advancement of dis-
advantaged minorities. But most recent reports on the greater Los
Angeles economy seem to say that the heavy blows have been absorbed
and that the economy has recovered its health and become much more
diversified, particularly in certain forms of software, international trade,
finance, and other sectors that elude standard industrial classifications.
What may this mean for the economic well-being or sociocultural evolu-
tion of particular groups? What role have ethnic groups played in this
transformation? This reviewer has not a clue but draws a lesson: when
studying structural change, while it is important to be as up-to-date as
possible, one should respect the role of cyclical contingency and not con-
fuse recent developments with unavoidable fate.
The City: Los Angeles and Urban Theory at the End of the Twentieth
Century. Edited by Allen J. Scott and Edward W. Soja. Berkeley and
Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1997. Pp. xii1483. $40.00.
Mark Baldassare
University of California, Irvine
1425
unrest in South Central. Yet, the climate, beaches, jobs, and amenities
continue to attract both tourists and permanent residents from around
the globe.
The image of Los Angeles is shaped by the media and entertainment
industries headquartered in the region. Urban scholars have been slow
in offering a competing vision. Against this backdrop, there have been
rumors of the emergence of a “Los Angeles school.” The publication of
Scott and Soja’s The City provides some evidence that scholarly studies
of this region are on the fast track. The book’s title is reminiscent of the
Chicago school and the classic work by Park, Burgess, and McKenzie.
Any comparisons end there. This is not a book that offers a unifying
theory to comprehend the Los Angeles area. The editors admit at the
outset that their book “is not intended to be a final substantive statement
about Los Angeles. Instead, our aim is to whet the appetite and stimulate
the quest for a more systematic and insightful understanding of the issues
and problems raised” (p. ix). Their goal is accomplished both because of
what their authors have to contribute as well as what is not covered in
this edited volume.
The City contains 14 chapters written by 15 authors in the Los Angeles
area. Ten of the scholars are from University of California, Los Angeles,
two are from the University of Southern California, and three are from
other institutions. Six of the authors are from academic departments of
urban planning, three are from geography, two are from architecture, one
is from sociology, and one from political science. The composition of the
authors says a lot about the perspectives that are dominant in this book.
There is an emphasis on spatial analysis and the physical environment,
though clearly from a postmodern view rather than that of urban ecology.
One wishes that a more diverse pool of scholars had been commissioned
for this work. The book would have benefited from the insights of anthro-
pology, economics, demography, social psychology, and ethnic studies.
Also, the authors’ locations result in too much of a city focus and some
superficial analyses of the outlying regions.
The first chapter is an introduction by the two editors and offers a
historical overview and some comments on contemporary planning and
politics. This is interesting, but a discussion of overarching themes or the
book’s organization is much needed. What follows are many authors,
each providing a different “slice” of Los Angeles. One author, Rocco,
notes, “Los Angeles is extremely fragmented or extremely diverse, de-
pending on one’s perspective or ideology. What is clear, even to the casual
observer, is that there is more than one Los Angeles” (p. 366). Similar to
the region that is studied, this book offers a sprawling and fragmented
view of Los Angeles. The chapters that follow offer a range of unrelated
topics and interests. These include “Hetero-Architecture and the L.A.
School,” “Bounding and Binding Metropolitan Space,” “L.A. as Design
Product,” and “How Eden Lost Its Garden.” In this book, the reader will
find some excellent pieces written at the highest level of scholarship. The
chapter on the evolution of transportation by Marty Wachs offers new
1426
The first Canadian novel I read confronted me with situations that I had
thought of as indigenously American, which left me with a vague feeling
of cultural displacement. In Nationalism and Literature Sarah Corse
scrutinizes the bases for this kind of identification through the ways in
which certain texts form what can be construed as a national symbolic
space. (This space also includes similar cultural products, from films to
national anthems, and it surely fits Corse’s argument that the vast “Amer-
ican” wheat fields in my Canadian novel were familiar largely from nov-
els, movies, and “America the Beautiful.”)
Taking (somewhat laborious) exception to the “reflection thesis” that
assigns “national character” to innate cultural characteristics and particu-
lar cultural products, Corse sets up an extended confrontation between
the national literatures and literary fields of (anglophone) Canada and
the United States. Chosen for their obvious similarities, these countries
also, as Corse demonstrates through their literatures, diverge in interest-
ing, and sometimes unexpected, ways. Since the very concept of a na-
tional literature is problematic, this is where she starts. Because a canon
is by definition exclusionary, a “national literature” can only be the end
product of a rigorous, if largely unconcerted, process of deciding what
fits “the nation” and what does not.
This careful study argues that the elaboration of a canon of works that
are (sooner, but more often later) taken as “representative” of the nation
occurs during periods of intense nation building. Given the different po-
litical developments (early vs. much later and incomplete severance from
Britain), the two canons, which Corse determines through university
1427
course syllabi, differ on a number of counts. They differ most in the pe-
riod of formation: in contrast to the 10 “top” American novels, which
were published from the 1850s to the 1930s, the comparable Canadian
works range from 1904 to 1976, with five of the 10 novels written after
1964. (Corse also makes astute observations concerning the larger sample
from which the core 20 novels were drawn.) The Canadian canon has
substantially more works by women, another function of its later devel-
opment. In both cases, it is a question of differentiation from a relevant
“other,” Great Britain for the earlier Americans, often the United States
for the later Canadians, writing for the most part well after the American
canon is set. While the explanation of these and other parameters is con-
vincing, the analysis of the “meaning” of the core novels is less so, partly
because Corse is caught between making interpretive sense of the works
and following her code sheet (appendix D) concerned with setting, family
structure, interpersonal conflict, and so forth. As she somewhat reluc-
tantly recognizes, this is precisely the kind of uncontrolled interpretation
that a sociological study was supposed to avoid. That interpretation is
not “wrong,” but it is not, in the event, especially satisfying, especially
as the national differences in question may well owe more to the times
of composition than Corse allows.
The canon takes on its full significance, however, in the context of two
other types of works, the winners of the top literary prizes and the best-
sellers, both taken for 1978 to 1987. Although differences persist, and
Corse is attentive to these, distinctiveness diminishes as one moves from
canonical to contemporary elite to popular literature. Working off Pierre
Bourdieu’s dual market model, Corse demonstrates that the elite self-
consciousness responsible for the national canon has all but disappeared
for the best-sellers. Moreover, the American and Canadian samples coin-
cide to a remarkable degree, with American authors accounting for the
lion’s share of authors and novels. In contrast to the distinction required
for canonical works and, to a lesser degree, prize winners, best-sellers are
not national.
Corse does not deal with consumption, but even within the production
model, the analysis could be usefully extended. Regionalism is one factor
that should be taken more fully into account. Not only can several of the
American canonical novels be considered regional as well as national, the
continuing division of anglophone from francophone Canada, discussed
in some detail, creates a permanent fissure in any putative national iden-
tity elaborated through works written exclusively in English. No French-
Canadian work appears on any of the lists. Given the rapid translation
of blockbuster novels, ascertaining overlap in best-sellers across linguistic
communities in Canada would further test Corse’s contention that the
broader the audience, the less national distinctiveness. Is best-sellerdom
indicative of literary globalization or is the world buying America
through Stephen King and his peers?
Like any thoughtful study, Nationalism and Literature raises more
questions than it answers. How far, Corse asks in her conclusion, does
1428
Mabel Berezin
University of California, Los Angeles
1429
Culture and Society. Given the sharp and enduring schism between the
north and south of Italy, this schema works well for the first two sections,
which link political identities to the variegated cultural and social land-
scapes that cultivated them. The schema breaks down in the last two
sections, where the authors discuss the more homogenized Italian mass
media culture of the postwar era.
Essays in “Geographies” range from discussions of Italy as a weak na-
tion-state to reviews of anthropological approaches to Italian studies to
elaborations of Italy’s linguistic variety. Sixty percent of Italians still
speak a dialect, and 14% speak one exclusively (p. 95)—making textual
forms of communication an ongoing problem. Eve’s essay on political
corruption provides a useful summary of the events leading up to tan-
gentopoli, the massive crime exposé that toppled postwar political ar-
rangements between 1992 and 1994. “Images of the South” is a lucid, if
brief, account of how scientific reports from the North coupled with a
degree of southern resistance served to produce a narrative of the South
as corrupt and lazy, which has proven hard to shake. Dickie’s “Imagined
Italies” applies current theories of nationalism to Italy and argues that if
all nation-states are “imagined,” then Italy, despite its fragmentation, is
no weaker than any of the others.
“Identities” offers a comprehensive guide to the cultural forces that
have shaped and continued to shape Italian political and social life and,
in my view, is the most sociologically compelling section of the anthology.
Parker’s chapter “Political Identities” shows how strong party identities
precluded the development of national identity in Italy. Pratt’s discussion
of “Catholic Culture” coupled with Passerini’s “Gender Relations” sum-
marize the important legislation on divorce, abortion, and gender equality
in the postwar period and demonstrate the role that the Catholic Church
played in shaping family policy if not practice. For example, despite orga-
nized Catholic and Christian Democratic opposition, referendums to re-
peal both divorce and abortion laws failed (p. 140). Maher’s essay on
immigration as a new phenomenon in Italy not only provides data on
incoming groups but offers a lively anthropological discussion of the evo-
lution of “otherness” or “marked groups.” Gypsies, southerners, and Jews
can remain more outcast in Italy than North Africans or Filipinos whom
Italians view benignly as “extracommunitarians.”
In a country that had combined high rates of illiteracy and prevalence
of dialect, it is not surprising that newspapers are local venues and televi-
sion is a very popular medium. The section on “Media” provides useful
summary articles on major journalistic outlets as well as elaborates the
peculiarities of Italian public television. The latter is particularly impor-
tant given the political success of Silvio Berlusconi—the largest owner
of private television in Italy—and his role in the political scandals of the
past few years. The cinema essay shows how American notions of “stars”
and stories were Italianized in the postwar period—producing among
other things the “spaghetti western.” The last section, “Culture and Soci-
ety,” is somewhat eclectic. The articles on popular music and the star
1430
1431
gacs and Lumley have given us lively cultural history—and that is not
such a bad thing.
Alan Sica
Pennsylvania State University
Neil Smelser’s professional life over the last 40 years coincides with the
startling rise and uncertain future of sociology in the United States. Born
in 1930, he studied with Parsons at Harvard, then took an Oxford mas-
ter’s (1959) after a Harvard doctorate (1958), arriving at Berkeley—so
the lore holds—as a tenured associate professor at 28 years of age. While
26 and still a graduate student, he and Parsons published Economy and
Society (not to be confused with the work of an earlier German, who
was also precocious), followed in 1959 by Social Change in the Industrial
Revolution (still a favorite among Smelserites), and three years later, at
32, his Theory of Collective Behavior, which was widely used and cited
as a scholarly textbook in the 1960s. Had Smelser died then, presumably
from exhaustion, his reputation as a creative sociologist of the functional-
ist stripe would have been well earned.
But he endured—through Berkeley’s most raucous period, the “de-Par-
sonization” of theory, and the shattering of functionalism as the general
explanatory tool he and his teacher had proposed. Scrutinizing an outline
of Smelser’s subsequent career, both as international social science pro-
moter and as author and editor, could fill much of an evening. If there
is someone still hard at work who better represents what now seems to
be American sociology’s “golden age” (aside from Merton, who is 20 years
older), who might it be? Therefore, one must greet this brief meditation
on sociology’s condition with attention and thanks, not only for its au-
thor’s usual clarity and intelligence, but because, having reached the
stage of éminence grise, Smelser is poised to come clean about sociology’s
current delusions in areas of work he knows best. And given his contin-
ued impact on the field and his dedication to its healthy future, it seems
wise to pay him heed—as the experienced voice of a more confident time
in the discipline’s past.
The book’s four chapters correspond to lectures delivered in May and
June 1995 at Humboldt University and cover, respectively, sociology’s
micro, meso, macro, and global dimensions. Naturally, this way of divid-
ing up the discipline and the social world, even in a wilily heuristic fash-
ion, contradicts noisy postmodern objections. These hold that sociology
can no longer conduct business as usual now that cyberspace has puta-
tively become more important to the world’s richer citizens than the “so-
1432
1433
Heinz-Günter Vester
Universität Würzburg
Although the social sciences have a tradition spanning a century, the na-
ture of the social is not fully explored. Is the mark of the social to be
discovered in its given properties, or is the social just what so-called social
sciences decide to invent? The contributions to The Mark of the Social,
edited and introduced by John D. Greenwood, cover a wide range of
issues connected to this question. Authors from several fields (philosophy,
psychology, social anthropology, economics, and sociology) are repre-
sented.
Since Émile Durkheim’s definition of faits sociaux, attempts at figuring
out the properties of the social are interwoven with methodological issues:
How can one speak of the social, and what transforms this discussion into
scientific discourse? That the social is constructed, both in the context of
social theory and in everyday practice, is stated in Rom Harré’s and Ken-
neth J. Gergen’s articles. They also make clear that reducing the mark
of the social to individual activity would be a misunderstanding of con-
structionism. The character of the social is relational—that is, in Ger-
gen’s terms, grounded in relational engagement, polyphonic expression,
and infinite conversation. Not to see that “every act is actually a joint
action” (Harré, p. 207) would be to surrender to individualism.
Margaret Gilbert appears to be tempted by an ontology of subjectivity,
when, in her chapter, “Concerning Sociality,” she conceptualizes “plural
subjects,” which does not contribute much to a clearer conception of the
social. Similarly, Walter L. Wallace’s focus on the classification of social
phenomena does not yield much insight. An even more ambitious ontol-
ogy is attempted by Scott Gordon, who asks, “How Many Kinds of
Things Are There in the World?” Although the title of Peter T. Manicas’s
“Social Explanation” might suggest some guidelines for the exploration
of the social, Manicas’s intentions are more modest. He tries to prove
that a recent Chicago study on crime simply asks the wrong questions.
Paul F. Secord outlines the mark of the social by summarizing how
various paradigms in the social sciences have conceptualized the social.
However, Secord’s integration of these views, resulting in the statement
that “the mark of the social is its socially constituted form” (p. 78) has a
somewhat tautological flavor. Disappointing is Joseph Margolis’s philo-
sophical analysis of “The Meaning of ‘Social,’ ” which culminates in the
amazing wisdom that “the social is causally effective through the agency
of selves, but effective agency is itself collectively structured” (p. 195).
That the social is relational is the point brought home by Tim Ingold’s
“Life beyond the Edge of Nature?” in which he attempts “to re-embed
these relationships within the continuum of organic life” (p. 250).
1434
The Trouble with Evil: Social Control at the Edge of Morality. By Edwin
M. Lemert. Albany: State University of New York Press, 1997. Pp.
ix1185. $16.95.
Troy Duster
University of California, Berkeley
From the early 1950s through the middle of this decade, Edwin Lemert
was one of the central figures in the theoretical developments of the soci-
ology of deviance. Along with a half dozen or so scholars that included
John Kitsuse and Aaron Cicourel, Lemert was responsible for creating
and developing the “societal reaction” (or sometimes called “labeling”)
theory of deviance. Since one of the central methodological underpin-
nings of that school emphasized the study of the reactions of key members
and institutions to contested and highly variable definitions of deviance,
it will seem odd to the cognoscenti that Lemert’s last work focuses so
1435
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Edward A. Tiryakian
Duke University
1437
finity with Aristotle runs through The Division of Labor with the modern
individual personality, striving for self-realization as its telos, enriched
rather than diminished by occupational specialization and its ensuing net-
works.
The 10 chapters of this work are grouped under two headings. The first
half is categorized as “America,” an allusion to Durkheim as a Columbus
seeking a new sociological passage from “is” to “ought,” that is, to an
ethics suitable for modernity. The second part, “The Kingdom and the
Republic,” has as a major focus Durkheim grappling with the legacy of
Kantian ethics, particularly regarding freedom and the autonomy of the
person. Watts Miller provides a meticulous reading of Durkheim’s early
journey, reflecting Durkheim’s exposure to Montesquieu, to the republi-
can principles of the French Revolution, and to the nascent German so-
cial science (Durkheim was particularly taken with Wundt’s empirical
approach to ethics). Confronting two opposite ethics, that of “despotic
socialism,” which leads to the authoritarian state, and radical liberalism,
which leaves only fragmented atomized individualism, Durkheim sought
a sort of Aristotelian golden mean in what Watts Miller calls the modern
“organic self.” This represents an interesting dualism of real modern
“man” embedded in the division of labor, a dualism of autonomy and
interdependence within which we strive to realize a bundle of modern
values: equality, liberty, justice, fraternity. For the division of labor to
be operative so as to generate both a greater individuation and cohesion
and commitment, it must be “spontaneous” rather than constrained by
inequality of conditions, the latter at the root of the various pathologies
that Durkheim noted in the third part of The Division of Labor. In dis-
cussing the pathologies of individualism, notably but not solely suicide,
Watts Miller draws attention (pp. 222–27) to Durkheim’s modern society
being a “risk society,” which can undermine an ideal “republic of per-
sons.” Unlike Ulrich Beck’s version of risk society and its focus on the
environmental and technological risks of modernity (Risk Society [Sage,
1992]), Durkheim is more concerned with the systematic invisible risks,
to both individuals and the collective, of an outmoded traditional moral-
ity and lack of commitment to the ideals of the “republic of persons.”
This tightly written work is of course not the first treatment of Dur-
kheim connecting his sociology with ethics and morals, having been pre-
ceded by Wallwork (Durkheim. Morality and Milieu [Harvard Univer-
sity Press, 1972]) and Bellah (Émile Durkheim on Morality and Society
[University of Chicago Press, 1973]), among others. Its sympathetic but
often critical treatment combines with an excellent bibliography to pro-
duce a study well worth reading, not only for sociologists already familiar
with the major Durkheimian classics, but, perhaps more important, for
those interested in the new communitarian movement (expressed, e.g., in
Amitai Etzioni, ed., Rights and the Common Good [St. Martin’s Press,
1995]). Of all the figures at the core of the sociological tradition, Dur-
kheim is the (modern) communitarian par excellence. For liberals and
social democrats who seek to renovate a faltering commitment to the en-
1438
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tion in a void. The so-called liberal and totalitarian schools are at best
ideal-types. (The haphazard formulation and Cold War, politically oppor-
tunistic use of the term “totalitarianism” are well known.) Moreover, in
real life, the varied applications of these supposed “totalitarian” and “lib-
eral” principles are legion. Faced with a dreadful choice, would anyone
rather live in Nazi Germany than in Fascist Italy? Are there no contex-
tual distinctions to be made among Lenin, Stalin, and Gorbachev? Be-
tween Nazism in a time of peace and in a time of war? In its treatment
of Western and Eastern Europeans? Between Britain in the 1840s and
in the 1940s?
With two or three exceptions, such as Jeffrey Herf’s essay on the mod-
ernistic dimension of Nazi thought and practice, the collection, like Tal-
mon himself, ignores such complexities. Indeed, most of the essays defi-
antly underscore Talmon’s naive categorizations by assuming that all
those writers, philosophers, and poets (painters and musicians are hardly
mentioned) who were in some way hostile to any of the varyingly politi-
cized incarnations of Enlightenment ideas between 1870 and 1945 had to
be in some overt or covert way the running dogs of fascism and mindless
authority. Gaetano Salvemini, for example, is taken to task for saying
that Italian parliamentarism, as it existed, filled him with disgust and
horror (p. 271). Then, a few paragraphs later, he is linked by association
to Croce and de Gasperi as basically antiliberal. But is it not a fact that
Italian parliamentarism was corrupt, unrepresentative, inefficient, belli-
cose, and mendacious? Likewise, an essay on French Catholicism, worthy
by its tone of Combisme in its most vulgar form, works very hard to
associate Catholic identity in all its forms with “doctrines of hatred.” Un-
surprisingly, what is remembered of Tocqueville is not his acceptance of
democracy, his defense of liberty, or his little-known suspicion of Gobi-
neau’s racism, but his well-known suspicion of mass society, another sure
sign—in the optic of this book—of fascistic tendencies. Clearly, then, if
you do not like Disneyland and soap operas, you had better not read this
book, unless you are ready to think of yourself as yet one more unpleasant
enemy of “enlightened truth.”
Ideologies, crudely described, are the reference point of this book. That
the Enlightenment was differently interpreted from place to place and
time to time is ignored, as is the fact that many critiques of its assorted
political incarnations made a lot of sense. Should we ignore the historical
connection between laudable Enlightenment values (individualism, ratio-
nality, and universalism) and deplorable contingent excrescences, as in
the links between individualism and 19th-century industrial exploitation,
rationality and the rejection of the unconscious, and universalism and
the imposition of Western values on people who do not like them?
For me, Diderot is the archetypal Enlightenment thinker: serious and
frivolous, biased and open minded, imaginative and learned, methodical
and curious, tolerant and trenchant. What would he have thought of this
collection? Decide for yourself.
1440
Elinor Scarbrough
University of Essex
Nazism and the Holocaust still, half a century later, reverberate in mod-
ern-day Germany. Although the idea of such disasters again befalling
Germany is scarcely credible, scholarly concern to understand how they
could have happened and to investigate what residues they have left in
popular consciousness reflects recurrent anxieties among Germans, and
others, about coming to terms with the past. Recent events such as the
historians’ debate and the upsurge of violence against Jewish targets, to-
gether with the persisting sensitivity of public statements about Jews and
Germany’s relations with Israel, make this study of contemporary anti-
Semitism, anti-Zionism, and xenophobia in Germany especially apt. The
authors, and the publishers, are also to be congratulated for making this
substantial study available in English.
In addition to their own survey, conducted in 1987, Bergmann and
Erb incorporate data from earlier and later surveys undertaken by other
researchers. These enable them to track trends in popular attitudes
among the people of West Germany and to point up contrasts with the
people of East Germany. For their own study, Bergmann and Erb de-
vised indices (confirmed by factor analysis of multiple items) measuring
anti-Semitism based on concepts of stereotypes, emotional rejection, and
social distance; anti-Zionism based on attitudes toward Israel, German
reparations, and war guilt; and xenophobia based on attitudes toward
other “out” groups. The authors warn against interpreting single ques-
tions at face value: voicing anti-Semitic opinions violates what has be-
come the social norm in Germany. Hence, Bergmann and Erb pay close
attention to interpreting “undecided” responses; as the attitudinal items
were highly prejudicial, those responses might reveal either “secondary”
anti-Semitism or a “spiral of silence.”
The evidence presented is straightforward but sometimes puzzling. Ve-
hement, hard-core anti-Semitism in West Germany is confined to a small
minority of some 7%, a further minority of about 12% is characterized
as strongly anti-Semitic; and some one-third of the population is classified
as potentially anti-Semitic. In short, something over one-half of the peo-
ple of West Germany, in the late 1980s, are represented as prejudiced
against Jews in some measure. What potential anti-Semitism might lead
to, however, is not specified, and Bergmann and Erb themselves warn
against interpreting opinions as a readiness to act accordingly, or to sup-
port others who do. The numbers here are at some odds with the general
thrust of the study: namely, anti-Semitism is a minority phenomenon
1441
1442
Eli Zaretsky
New School for Social Research
1443
1444
Private Wealth and Public Life: Foundation Philanthropy and the Re-
shaping of American Social Policy from the Progressive Era to the New
Deal. By Judith Sealander. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press,
1997. Pp. xii1349. $39.95.
Peter Frumkin
Harvard University
1445
1446
Diana Crane
University of Pennsylvania
1447
cates greater changes in the format than in the stylistic content of exhibi-
tions, suggesting that the overall quality of exhibitions has been main-
tained. Even with increasing external pressure, there was still room for
curators to maneuver by picking and choosing among funders and draw-
ing on museum funds to mount exhibitions that would not otherwise have
been funded. This lends support to organizational theories concerning the
importance of managerial autonomy, buffering (protecting key aspects of
the organization from external pressures), and resource shifting.
Another element in Alexander’s argument is that the increasing ratio-
nalization of the museum environment has led to changes in the same
direction inside these organizations. Based on interviews with museum
staff, her argument is that these changes entailed increasing conflict be-
tween two major aspects of museum organization, the emphasis on con-
servation and art history as compared to the concern with art as a busi-
ness and the museum as a profit-making enterprise. Her evidence
suggests that the new funding environment greatly increased the influ-
ence of the business and administrative side of museum organizations,
while these developments forced the curatorial staff to seek new and more
innovative solutions in selecting art genres and obtaining funding.
Finally, she shows that organizational structures of museums have be-
come increasingly alike as similar external pressures lead museums to
similar solutions and to increased interaction with one another. At the
same time, structural similarity is accompanied by increased differentia-
tion in substance as museums attempt to locate specialized stylistic niches
that increase their ability to compete with one another, suggesting the
relevance of an ecological interpretation.
Alexander’s work adds an important dimension to our understanding
of forces that have transformed the nature of all forms of high culture
in recent years and that have become especially salient in the fine arts
as a result of heated controversies over arts funding and the censorship
of controversial art works. A parallel study of the effects of changes in
museum funding on the level and types of art acquisitions is definitely
needed to clarify the consequences of changes in the museum environ-
ment for the development of artistic styles.
This book will appeal to specialists in the sociology of culture, the soci-
ology of organizations, and cultural policy. Written in an accessible and
relatively jargon-free style, Alexander’s book is appropriate for both
graduate and undergraduate courses in the sociology of art, culture, pol-
icy, and organizations.
1448
Bruce G. Carruthers
Northwestern University
1449
Allen Chun
Academia Sinica
This book deals with a topic that in many respects has been neglected
too long but whose appearance now as an object of critical reflection and
social theorizing is quite timely. As a collection of essays, this book covers
much ground, both historically and geographically. The essays by Prasen-
jit Duara on Chinese overseas nationalism and by Carl Trocki on early
1450
Chinese enterprises in Southeast Asia, which were not part of the confer-
ence from which the book originated, provide a kind of historical back-
ground to the modern Chinese transnational capitalism that forms the
focus of the book. With the exception of Aihwa Ong’s article on Chinese
modernities, which tries to synthesize the Chinese transnational experi-
ence as an alternative site of modernity, most of the essays were based
on contemporary empirical studies of topics covering spatial narratives
of Chinese travelers inside and outside the People’s Republic of China
(PRC) (Xin Liu), the cultural logic of Chinese factory labor regimes in
Hong Kong and Shenzhen (Ching kwan Lee), localizing strategies of Tai-
wanese capitalists in Fujian (You-tien Hsing), transient labor experiences
of Malaysian Chinese abroad (Donald Nonini), tensions between Cana-
dian and immigrant Hong Kong Chinese created by foreign capital and
differing lifestyles (Katharyne Mitchell), the history of cultural hybridity
of Chinese living in Thailand and Philippines (Christina Szanton Blanc),
and the reshaping of cosmopolitan imagination portrayed in the Shanghai
mass media (Mayfair Yang).
The historical depth and interdisciplinary perspectives are significant
contributions to the study of the complexity of Chinese transnational ex-
periences. The significance of this effort should be situated against more
simplistic approaches to the topic that underscore sinocentric prejudices
and champion highbrow syntheses of renewed Confucianism in East
Asian economies. By accenting transnationalism, the book suggests the
existence of forces underlying the Chinese experience that elude contain-
ment by nation-states while building upon logical relations that are
intrinsically different from the West. Whether these “forces” and “rela-
tions” are constitutive of a distinctive kind of “modernity” is a question
effectively posed by the authors, but whether these articles provide con-
sistent, systematic answers to the question is perhaps debatable.
One might first ask why Chinese transnational modernity of the kind
celebrated by the book has taken so long to be recognized by scholars. I
think this can be attributed partly to the recent success of Chinese trans-
national capitalists and partly to the rise of a new global capitalism that
has raised scholarly doubts about the bounded nature of national cultures
and economies. These two are not cleanly separated in the book but are
necessary in order to distinguish in what sense Chinese transnationalism
of the kind seen today is the product of ongoing cultural practices and
recent global interventions. As Trocki cogently argues for the early his-
tory of Chinese enterprise in Southeast Asia, the key organizational struc-
tures that drive Chinese capitalism today were built upon multiethnic
alliances that led to the dominance of Chinese business in Southeast Asia,
to a degree that reverses colonialist historiography. Or as Trocki put it,
“It was the British flag that followed the Chinese coolies.” Yet perhaps
contrary to Nonini and Liu, I would argue that the diasporic negotiations
and sense of spatial displacement experienced by Malaysian Chinese
transient laborers and PRC villagers are no different from the mass emi-
gration of Chinese abroad in the 19th century, despite our “improved”
1451
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tension between these two forces. While this aptly captures the process
of political economic development in an Asian context, I think it is quite
confusing to depict both these forces by the same term of modernity. The
utilitarian imperatives that drove Chinese entrepreneurs clearly predated
competing forms of capitalist organization and were analytically distinct
from the modernity of the state. The fact that the success of these arche-
typical Chinese capitalists took place outside China should be a vindica-
tion of their diasporic roots or deterritorialized nature. It might be an-
other way of questioning the state’s modernity project at some level as
incompatible with such “capitalism.” The success of early Chinese entre-
preneurs obviously depended on multicultural skills but, equally impor-
tant, involved local institutional collusion, whatever it was. No doubt the
state’s cloaking of economic modernity in terms of Confucianism or other
cultural logic clearly becomes a source of tension. In this regard, Duara’s
conclusion that the “early synthesis of Confucian capitalism was particu-
larly suited” to leaders and mercantile elites in a way that has ramifica-
tions for later modernity is somewhat misguided. Finally, one should not
overlook the context of discussion that has prompted us to romanticize
tycoons like Li Ka-shing and the Riadys, when early Republican China
and postwar Taiwan are full of rich capitalists and successful corpora-
tions. The emergence of transnational capitalism has singled out such
people precisely because it has given rise to Asian regional economies in
which such multicultural entrepreneurs figure prominently. While this
should not deflate the importance of the phenomenon, it should remind
us of our own embeddedness to the world and discourses within which
we speak.
Corporate Welfare Policy and the Welfare State: Bank Deregulation and
the Savings and Loan Bailout. By Davita Silfen Glasberg and Dan
Skidmore. New York: Aldine de Gruyter, 1997. Pp. vii1172. $42.95
(cloth); $20.95 (paper).
Patrick Akard
Skidmore College
A central theme of Corporate Welfare Policy and the Welfare State is the
ideology of financial sector “reform.” Bank deregulation was part of the
broader “state project” of reduced government and increased reliance on
market processes in the 1980s. Yet, while state capacities for social wel-
fare provision were being reduced, the bailout of the savings and loan
(S&L) industry and of selected commercial banks represented a continued
commitment to corporate welfare. The authors trace this outcome to the
relative power and political resources of finance capital.
After an opening critique of prominent “grand theories” of the state
(“business dominance,” “state centered,” “structural Marxist,” “class dia-
lectical”), the authors note approvingly the “accommodationist turn” in
1453
1454
David Gartman
University of South Alabama
Sociologists have long been enamored with auto workers, but recently
the focus of our affection has shifted. In the prosperous postwar years,
they were exemplars of the alienated worker, toiling away at mindless
meaningless tasks for mere monetary compensation negotiated by a coop-
erative union. But recent decades have brought layoffs and plant closings,
and academics who once criticized alienated jobs now lament their loss,
as well as the decline of “strong unions.” Ruth Milkman’s important new
study of restructuring in the auto industry reminds us that workers still
hate these monotonous regimented jobs and are not nearly as reluctant
as some academics to bid them farewell.
Milkman’s intriguing insights are based on a case study of the General
Motors (GM) assembly plant at Linden, New Jersey. She first places her
case within the postwar “industrial accord,” in which unions consented
to monotonous regimented jobs in return for growing wages and benefits.
Although this brought a general peace in the war of labor and manage-
1455
1456
pessimistic. Her case makes her too optimistic about the fate of industrial
workers in transition to a postindustrial economy. She argues that her
workers testify at least to the possibility of a smooth, beneficial transition
under certain conditions—presumably a generous union or state program
of training and income security. But she fails to recognize that deindustri-
alization undermines these very policies that ease the transition by sap-
ping the political strength of labor on which they rest. Conversely, Milk-
man is too pessimistic about the possibility of retaining these industrial
jobs and making them better. Like her auto workers and their union,
she can conceive of no alternatives to the Taylorist division of labor and
regimentation that renders these jobs undesirable. But other studies have
shown that the structure of industrial work is not inevitable but a socially
contingent artifact. Neither is the decline of such jobs inevitable, as she
contends (p. 136). To be sure, the loss of some jobs results from technolog-
ical upgrading, but many have also been lost due to corporate outsourcing
to low-wage nonunion workers in less developed regions and countries.
Until we see all aspects of industrial restructuring as social and political
strategies, not economic inevitabilities, unions, politicians, and academics
may be far too eager to wave farewell to the factory.
Field, Forest, and Family: Women’s Work and Power in Rural Laos. By
Carol J. Ireson. Boulder, Colo.: Westview Press, 1996. Pp. xxiii1285.
$60.00.
“Women travel more than men. They are selling and buying. They keep
the money. They are responsible for the economy. They give money to
their husbands when husbands ask for it” (p. 201). For those who view
patriarchy as universal, this statement by a village leader concerning
women entrepreneurs who have been able to use a new road in rural
Laos to consolidate and enhance their economic power will seem an
anomaly. The fact that among certain ethnic groups in Southeast Asia,
women have substantial microlevel power based on (1) control of eco-
nomic resources and (2) a bilateral or “matri-focused” kinship system is
not widely appreciated outside narrow circles of specialists.
Now, Carol Ireson helps fill this lacuna while making two significant
contributions (1) to academic knowledge about the determinants and con-
sequences of gender stratification and (2) to the field of gender and devel-
opment. Her theoretically grounded and empirically extraordinary case
study focuses on Laotian women from three ethnic groups varying in
degree of gender stratifaction: the relatively gender-egalitarian lowland
Lao, the somewhat patriarchal and impoverished Khmu of the midlands,
and the extremely patriarchal Hmong of the highlands. She organizes
her study around three time periods—(a) before the rise of a socialist
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1458
Jill Quadagno
Florida State University
Political theorists have long recognized that the social programs that
make up the welfare state not only provide services and income security
but also organize social relations. Welfare states are key institutions in
1459
the structuring of class and the social order. At issue is what kind of
stratification system the welfare state creates.
The first generation of welfare state theorists concentrated on how the
welfare state influenced the class structure. Comparative studies demon-
strating significant variations in levels of spending and in forms of social
provision led to efforts to classify nations along a typology of “welfare
state regimes.” “Liberal” regimes are characterized by minimal interven-
tion in the market and a reliance on means-tested social assistance. Need
is the basic principle of eligibility, and benefits are designed to maintain
existing patterns of stratification. In “conservative” regimes benefits are
based on participation in the labor market, and social programs maintain
traditional status relations by providing distinct programs for different
class and status groups. Finally, in “universal” regimes benefits are be-
stowed on the basis of citizenship. They promote status equality by en-
dowing all citizens with similar rights, regardless of their social class or
their occupation.
The second generation of welfare state theorists were feminists who
criticized class-based models for failing to recognize that beneficiaries
have many relationships to the welfare state beside that of worker and
that the ranking of counties in these typologies might differ if gender was
added to the equation. Feminist analyses have highlighted how the wel-
fare state, through its public policies, ideologies, and organizational prin-
ciples have reproduced the gendered division of labor and male domina-
tion.
In her theoretically innovative and carefully researched book, Gender,
Equality, and Welfare States, Diane Sainsbury also challenges the core
premises of class-based models of the welfare state. Class-based theorists,
she contends, wrongly presume that a single basis of entitlement predomi-
nates in each regime type, while ignoring women’s entitlements as wives
and mothers. Her challenge is not only to class-based theories, however,
for the feminist emphasis on the two-tier welfare state welfare model,
which solely considers need or labor market status as bases of entitle-
ment, also neglects the principle of “care.”
In her comparative analysis of Great Britain, Sweden, the Netherlands,
and the United States, Sainsbury asks two questions: What difference do
variations across welfare states make for women and within each coun-
try? How do women’s benefits compare to those of men? Sainsbury eval-
uates the main bases of entitlement—work, need, citizenship, and care—
and finds that classed-based typologies of regime types often wrongly
group countries on their stratifying effects. For example, Sweden and the
Netherlands are typically classified as “universalistic” welfare states, al-
though along several gender-relevant dimensions, they represent polar
opposites. In the Netherlands, benefits tend to be organized around the
breadwinner model whereas in Sweden they are based on individual enti-
tlement independent of marital status. She also finds that in every country
benefits based on labor market status disadvantage women relative to
1460
men, that benefits based on need may enhance the status of women if
they are accompanied by an ideology that recognizes the right to a basic
minimum income, and that women fare best when citizenship is the basis
of entitlement.
Most of Sainsbury’s empirical evidence regarding women’s access to
benefits and level of benefits is presented for 1980, which, she argues,
represents the product of the conjunction of historical forces that created
the mature welfare states. After 1980, she contends, most nations began
to reevaluate their social programs and cut benefits, and indeed her final,
very interesting chapter evaluates the impact of welfare state retrench-
ment on gender equality. The problem with using 1980 as the benchmark
year for analyzing the quality of benefits is that more recent data on fe-
male labor force participation are presented throughout the book, making
the analysis appear dated. At times Sainsbury also appears unduly pessi-
mistic. For example, in the United States, pension coverage among men
aged 21–36 has declined from 62% in 1979 to only 49% in 1993, while
there has been an increase among women in pension coverage from 46%
to 48% in the same period. Why have women been able to increase their
access to this form of fiscal welfare in an era of retrenchment? What also
obscures the impact of recent changes is the fact that the evidence is
rarely presented by cohort.
Despite these minor problems, Gender, Equality, and Welfare States
represents a monumental achievement in scholarship on the welfare state,
informed by a theoretically innovative discussion of the bases of entitle-
ment and an empirically rich comparative analysis. It is likely to be thor-
oughly debated and widely cited.
Making Ends Meet: How Single Mothers Survive Welfare and Low-Wage
Work. By Kathryn Edin and Laura Lein. New York: Russell Sage Foun-
dation, 1997. Pp. xxxi1305. $42.50 (cloth); $19.95 (paper).
A stranger to the United States might well raise a query that is rarely
heard here, especially since the campaign against welfare began. At the
average cash grant of $383 a month for a family, and even taking into
account food stamps and Medicaid, how can these families possibly sur-
vive? The same query applies to families that rely on the minimum wage
earnings of a lone parent, whose income is a little higher but who also
shoulders the additional expenses that work makes necessary.
So, why do we not see more homelessness, hunger, and visible despera-
tion among these families? Making Ends Meet begins to answer the ques-
tion. It presents a unique set of data that describe the household econo-
mies of poor families headed by women, the diverse strategies that the
1461
mothers employ to survive, and the hardships that the families neverthe-
less endure.
Edin and Lein interviewed 214 welfare mothers and 164 working poor
mothers in four cities. Most of these women, including those who worked,
relied to some degree on government benefits. Since any additional in-
come, no matter how irregular, can jeopardize these benefits, survey data
are usually unreliable. In the effort to get accurate information, Edin and
Lein made special efforts to win the confidence of the women they inter-
viewed, and the efforts appear to have succeeded. Their sampling method
relied on friendly intermediaries to gain access to respondents, who were
then interviewed repeatedly over the course of the study. As trust in-
creased, information on household income and expenditure patterns, and
the coping stratagems of the mothers, was gradually pieced together. The
empathy that made this strategy successful also shines through in their
respectful accounts of the economic travails of the women they inter-
viewed.
What emerges is a portrait of welfare-reliant mothers quite different
from the usual caricature of slothful and helpless women tied to the dole
by a syndrome called dependency. These women are preoccupied with
the well-being of their children, and they are resourceful and enterprising.
How else, indeed, could they master the challenge of making up an aver-
age gap of over $300 between their family expenses of $876 a month and
their benefits of $565? On the one hand, they spend money extremely
carefully. On the other, they draw on their networks of friends, family,
and boyfriends, on churches and social agencies, and on earnings from
unreported work to make up the gap in their tight budgets. Even so,
their situation is dangerously insecure, and many report periods of serious
hardship.
These women differed from the caricature of welfare addiction in an-
other way. They had on average 4.2 years of work experience, and 84%
had worked in the past five years. The large majority wanted to work
again. But rational calculation made them conclude that they could not
afford to leave welfare for the low-wage job market. Instead, most be-
lieved that they had first to acquire education or job skills, and many
were using their time on welfare to do just that.
Edin and Lein’s data also illuminate the economic realities that under-
lie this assessment by welfare mothers. Their sample of working mothers
was limited to those earning less than $8 an hour. On average, those who
worked had higher incomes. But they also had higher expenses, largely
because of work-related costs—child care, reduced rent subsidies, trans-
portation, medical care, clothing, and so on. The mothers who worked
were usually able to do so only because of some special resource, such
as a relative willing to care for the children. In any case, Edin and Lein’s
data show that these working mothers had to resort to many of the same
stratagems as used by welfare-reliant mothers in order to make ends
meet: taking on extra work, relying on friends, relatives, and boyfriends,
and turning to social agencies for occasional handouts. Even so, these
1462
Turning Back: The Retreat from Racial Justice in American Thought and
Policy. By Stephen Steinberg. Boston: Beacon Press, 1995. Pp xi1276.
$25.00 (cloth); $15.00 (paper).
Mary E. Pattillo
University of Michigan
1463
and then when it couldn’t, to intimidate me; and when that failed, to
make concessions” (p. 111).
The crisp, chronological organization of Turning Back makes it a use-
ful tool for teaching courses on the development of racial scholarship in
the social sciences. Using Thomas Kuhn’s model of paradigm shifts (The
Structure of Scientific Revolutions [University of Chicago Press, 1985]),
Steinberg defines three eras in race scholarship. Gunnar Myrdal’s An
American Dilemma (Harper and Row, 1944) departed from biological de-
terminism. Myrdal showed that “the Negro problem” was actually an
American problem deeply rooted in an unjust caste system. Steinberg
praises Myrdal (and his colleagues) for exposing the indignities that
blacks suffered at the hands of whites in the North and South. Yet
Steinberg believes that Myrdal was amiss in his overall analysis. Myr-
dal’s simplification of racism to a moral dilemma within and among
whites minimized the material deprivation and social stigma experienced
by African-Americans. Because this strain of liberal social science di-
verted attention from the real circumstances of blacks, it was unable to
predict the impending social upheavals.
The 1960s constituted a paradigm shift to the “scholarship of confron-
tation.” Whereas prior emphasis was on racist beliefs, the new paradigm
stressed the racist actions of whites, which had visible consequences.
Concepts developed in the Civil Rights and Black Power movements,
such as “institutionalized racism” and “internal colonialism,” became sta-
ples of scholarly discourse. Autobiographical reflections by political activ-
ists were best-sellers. For a short time, the nation accepted responsibility
for the effects of racism.
On the heels of this scholarship of confrontation, however, came a
backlash that has lasted to the present. Steinberg is most agitated by
liberal complicity in this backlash. Nathan Glazer and Daniel Patrick
Moynihan are two prominent targets of Steinberg’s critique. Through
their roles as public intellectual and Washington bureaucrat respectively,
Glazer and Moynihan influenced popular, academic, and governmental
understandings of the causes of black poverty. Together they “shifted the
analytical focus from racism to culture, and shifted the blame from soci-
etal institutions onto blacks themselves” (p. 106). With this shift came a
retreat from the race-based policies that were the victories of the previous
paradigm. Steinberg also indicts William Julius Wilson for contributing
to the backlash. Because Wilson is African-American, he provides the
backlash with “an indispensable mark of legitimacy” (p. 126).
Steinberg occasionally falls victim to the dangers inherent in scholarly
criticism. It is standard procedure to abstract the central thesis of a book
or author and then attack the abstract. Yet, the object of criticism is
never as simpleminded as the abstract suggests. Hence, while Steinberg
presents Wilson as one of the liberal underwriters of anti–affirmative ac-
tion sentiment, Wilson’s own work suggests the opposite. Wilson asks in
The Truly Disadvantaged (University of Chicago, 1987), “Does this mean
that targeted programs of any kind would necessarily be excluded from
1464
John Echeverri-Gent
University of Virginia
Gabriel Almond’s famous essay “Separate Tables” (PS 21, no. 4 [Fall
1988]) criticized the discipline of political science for being driven by com-
peting theoretical and methodological perspectives that impoverished it
by impeding eclecticism. Sunita Parikh’s book offers a provocative re-
sponse to Almond’s critique. It develops an analytical framework that
synthesizes comparative historical and rational choice methodologies. She
deploys this analytical framework to explain the development and persis-
tence of affirmative action programs in the United States and India.
Parikh’s study concludes that, in large heterogeneous societies with
democratic political systems, politicians will introduce affirmative action
programs when they need to expand their coalitions and when groups
historically suffering from discrimination mobilize to become strategic
constituencies.
Parikh’s synthesis of comparative historical and rational choice meth-
ods demonstrates that there is no need to be prisoners of the trade-off
between thick description and theoretical abstraction. The rational choice
approach lacks a theory of preference formation. Its impetus to stylize
context often distorts the historical circumstances in which strategic inter-
1465
action occurs. Parikh argues that we can use historical analysis to de-
scribe the values that shape the preferences of actors. It also can illumi-
nate the specific incentives and constraints that influence strategic action.
However, comparative historical study lacks criteria for limiting the vari-
ables under examination. Parikh contends that we can use rational choice
to select a parsimonious set of variables that become imbued with mean-
ing when they are embedded in their historical context.
Parikh’s study begins with a description of the cultural and political
context in which affirmative action programs were established in the
United States and India. In both countries, efforts to redress the historical
denial of rights to minority groups were obliged to navigate political cul-
tures with conflicting commitments to individual rights and social and
political equity. Parikh contends that, in light of these cultural contradic-
tions, it is no wonder that affirmative action programs are so controver-
sial. She describes how historical change increased the political power of
African-Americans in the United States and dalits or “untouchables” in
India at the same time that changes exogenous to majority-minority rela-
tions—in the United States World War II and the onset of the Cold War,
in India, changes in British colonial policy—made dominant groups more
receptive to concessions to deprived minorities.
Parikh’s analysis of the evolution of affirmative action in the United
States uses simple spatial models of policy making to explain key shifts
in strategy. Specialists in American politics will not find much new in
her sparse prose even though her analysis utilizes considerable primary
research. Parikh’s most interesting contention is that the evolution of af-
firmative action had little to do with changes in public opinion. There
was no groundswell of public support leading to the introduction and
expansion of affirmative action, and there was not enough erosion of pub-
lic support to explain the rollback under Ronald Reagan and George
Bush. Instead, Parikh offers a series of models demonstrating that the
evolution of affirmative action was driven by the way changes of key
political authorities altered the equilibriums of their strategic interaction.
Gaining support for a position on affirmative action in two of the three
branches of the federal government will enable a politician to advance
her position far beyond the “constraints” of public opinion.
After contending that affirmative action in India was initiated by the
British at least in part to sow division within the ranks of the indepen-
dence movement, Parikh focuses on efforts to expand affirmative action
following independence. Her comparison of initiatives in the states of
Karnataka and Gujarat supports her contention that affirmative action
programs are introduced when political competition motivates leaders to
expand their coalitions. The Indian case also includes a discussion of V. P.
Singh’s tumultuous effort in 1990 to expand affirmative action to “other
backward classes” at the national level. Here, Parikh provides little more
than a cursory outline of events. She omits any analysis of how the subse-
quent government under Narasimha Rao resolved the controversy.
1466
Ira Silver
Northwestern University
1467
1468
tionally wants to claim that social capital is not actually declining because
personalism can foster such commitment.
Indeed, it is not entirely clear what the reader should take away from
a study that seeks to equate movement activism with a larger argument
about how people establish commitments to one another. There were rel-
atively few participants in each of the organizations Lichterman exam-
ined, suggesting that only a small percentage of Americans express com-
mitments to others through activism. Yet, the communitarian critique
inspiring this book looks at declining commitments across all realms of
social life, not just those that are overtly political. What promise might
personalism hold for establishing the various expressions of commit-
ments—for example, to a spouse, a child, a religious community—that
Bellah et al. discuss in their influential study informing Lichterman’s
work (Habits of the Heart [University of California Press, 1985])? Is per-
sonalism as likely to breed commitment in these realms as in social move-
ments?
These are provocative questions that Lichterman’s study raises. The
mark of fine scholarship is its being able to say something new and sig-
nificant and, in so doing, stimulate important future research agendas.
Paul Lichterman has succeeded on both of these fronts.
Bert Klandermans
Free University
1469
The two books have in common that both build their argument on in-
depth interviews.
Downton and Wehr more specifically try to understand the sustained
participation in peace movement organizations in two cities in Colorado.
They distinguish between persisters (10 of their interviewees), who have
been continuously active in peace work for at least five years, shifters (4
of their interviewees), who left the peace action for another social cause,
and dropouts (6 of their interviewees), who left activism altogether. Most
of their argument concerns the first group, the persisters, but throughout
the book the authors try to contrast the persisters with the two other
groups.
Downton and Wehr start with a discussion of collective action theories
that is so short that it is hardly possible to get beyond stereotypical pic-
tures of new social movement theory, rational choice theory, and social
psychological theories. As long as the stereotype has a kernel of truth
this is perhaps acceptable; in the case of the social psychological theories,
however, once again the social psychology of protest is equated to malin-
tegration theories. In general I was surprised to find hardly any reference
to recent social movement literature. None of the recent debates on the
social construction of meaning, political process, or collective identity
seemed to have reached the authors, although some of these debates
would have certainly been informative for their subject.
The lack of theoretical anchoring is, however, certainly compensated
by the careful modeling the authors undertake of the processes they at-
tempt to understand. The process of mobilization is broken down into
two steps: first, the creation of peace-oriented beliefs, a process that the
authors largely define as controlled by socialization influences, be it in
the family, formal education, the church, or social movements proper;
second, the transformation of this ideological inclination into attitudinal
availability. In a supply-demand type of interplay, availability and op-
portunity act to produce action participation.
Yet, mobilization per se is not the phenomenon that concerns Downton
and Wehr most; indeed what they want to understand is the development
and maintenance of commitment. In my view, this is what makes the
book a valuable contribution to the literature on social movements. The
authors observe correctly that sustained participation is a neglected sub-
ject in that literature.
Persisters are those who develop a commitment that lasts. The authors
emphasize that the allegiance of the activist not only concerns the move-
ment but its ideology, organization, leadership, and the movement com-
munity at large. Commitment fluctuates, and when a bond with one of
these sectors is broken, the result may be a fairly quick exit from the
group as the cases of the shifters and dropouts show.
Downton and Wehr discuss the significance of social support and cross
pressure for enduring participation and conclude that the way competing
responsibilities are handled are the main difference between persisters on
the one hand and shifters and dropouts on the other. Unlike the others,
1470
persisters “live their commitment,” that is, they rearrange their lives such
that responsibilities no longer compete, for example, by taking a job that
fits with their activist commitments. Persisters also understand how to
cope with burnout. They know the art of refraining from working to the
point of exhaustion, of caring for personal needs as well as movement
demands, and of taking time to play and create.
Groves approaches his subject, the controversy over laboratory ani-
mals, from a different angle. What makes Groves’s study interesting is
that he not only interviewed movement participants but also their oppo-
nents, researchers who are using animals. The author tries carefully to
give actors on both sides of the controversy the opportunity to explain
their motives, convictions, and emotions. This is not always easy, as is
obvious from several passages in the book.
Most important, Groves’s book is about emotions; it reads as a plea
to move emotions to center stage in social movement research. Building
on Thomas Scheff ’s theory on the emotional dynamics in conflicts, he
tries to understand the emotions involved in becoming and being active
in a social movement. Shame and pride are pictured as the two emotions
that are involved in movement participation. Movements mobilize the
shame already within us, Groves argues, reasoning like Downton and
Wehr that the inclination to participate in this kind of movement devel-
ops through long-term processes of socialization. Yet, Groves goes a long
way to emphasize that it is not just emotions that make his interviewees
tick. On the contrary, they are very much aware that emotions do not
win arguments and that they must find rational ways to be emotional
about animals. Both heart and minds play a role.
Groves’s work is based on interviews with 20 activists who partici-
pated in various groups that were protesting animal research and inter-
views with 20 research supporters, all from the same university town.
After having described how animal protection became institutionalized,
the author gives a careful account of the conflict as it evolved over the
years. Interestingly, he demonstrates that the conflict is not simply a pro-
or antiscience conflict. To be sure, some animal rights activists were skep-
tical of science, but others were embedded in science and technology
through their occupations. Similarly, it is not the activists who love ani-
mals against the researchers who do not care. Groves’s study makes very
clear that both sides are ambivalent about animal use and looks at how
activists and researchers dealt with their ambivalences.
The controversy evolved from one about compassion for pets into a
controversy about the rights of animals and scientific progress. A clear
linkage of this part of the argument to the literature on public discourse
would have certainly strengthened the argument. Indeed, this is a more
general weakness of this study. Groves’s book is rich in descriptive details
but analytically poor. As a consequence, one wonders whether the in-
sights developed can be generalized to other movements. I assume they
can, but without a theoretical framework, it is difficult for the reader
to decide how. Ethnographic or qualitative methods are no reason to re-
1471
frain from such modeling as the work of Downton and Wehr demon-
strates.
Theodore K. Rabb
Princeton University
Erik Ringmar’s study is two books in one. Half of it explores the philo-
sophical and theoretical problems raised by scholarly explanations of why
people and nations go to war. The rest is a close analysis of the reasons
for Sweden’s invasion of the Holy Roman Empire (now Germany) in
1630. The purpose of the latter is not only to advance our understanding
of an important historical event but also to provide a case study for
Ringmar’s argument about the larger theoretical question.
In essence, Ringmar believes that previous research, both on the spe-
cific case and on the general issue, has lacked persuasiveness because of
its failure to pay attention to a crucial motive: the need to establish and
gain recognition for national identity. Nations, like individuals, yearn for
acceptance and respect. If doubted or challenged, especially when their
distinctiveness or autonomy is in a formative stage, they will respond
with violence. War becomes not a matter of gain, of logic, or of concrete
interests, but a matter of emotion and psychological drive.
There is much of interest in this argument, especially in the single-
mindedness with which it is pursued. Ringmar highlights the gaps in the
theoretical literature between general constructs (of behavior or outlook)
and specific policies or actions. At the same time, drawing on recent re-
search into public spectacles and political mythmaking, he adds a valu-
able dimension to historical accounts of the policies of Sweden’s kings.
Ringmar focuses on Gustav Adolf, the charismatic monarch, who be-
tween 1611 and 1632 transformed a poor, backward, and threatened
country into a major European power, and he emphasizes the ways in
which Gustav Adolf convinced his ministers and the nation at large to
support an aggressive war in Germany.
This is an oft told tale but never before has pride of place been given
so exclusively to matters of self-definition, self-presentation, and rhetoric.
In taking this approach, Ringmar relies heavily on recent work by literary
and intellectual historians that deals with self-fashioning, image making,
and display in Renaissance Europe. He describes this period as a “forma-
tive moment,” when new definitions of both the self and the nation crys-
tallized. As a result, individuals and peoples saw themselves as new and
distinctive entities and hence reshaped the way they related to others.
For Sweden this was a particularly traumatic process because it had
freed itself from Danish rule only in the 1520s, and the succession to the
1472
throne remained hotly disputed well into Gustav Adolf’s reign. Accord-
ingly, Ringmar believes the events of the 1610s and 1620s are best ex-
plained by the king’s determination to win recognition and respect, both
for his own right to the throne and for Sweden’s importance in European
affairs. And Gustav Adolf also persuaded his countrymen to feel, as he
did, that they were being belittled or ignored in the international arena.
Thus the Swedes went to war in Germany to establish and defend their
national identity—as an ancient realm descended from the Goths, as a
Baltic power, and as a champion of Protestantism. Religion, economics,
and politics may have played a part in this decision, Ringmar argues,
but only insofar as they contributed to the underlying quest for identity.
Is this the last word on a subject that, as Ringmar puts it (p. 14), has
been the subject of “interminable academic fights”? Probably not. Having
found his predecessors wanting, he claims he can “conclusively explain
the Swedish action” (p. 95). All previous assessments, based on the “inter-
ests” of the actors, must be discarded in favor of his “identity-driven ex-
planation” (p. 90). What is more likely is that his emphasis on self-promo-
tion will merely add another element to the now standard analysis of
Swedish motivation in Michael Roberts’s magisterial works (Gustavus
Adolphus, 2 vols. [Longmans, 1953, 1958] and The Early Vasas [Cam-
bridge University Press, 1968]).
Ringmar makes the Danish and imperial refusal to admit intermediar-
ies from Sweden to their peace conference at Lübeck in 1629 the keystone
of his interpretation—the decisive insult to self-esteem that sparked ag-
gression. Roberts offers a more measured and plausible account of this
episode. And Roberts’s argument that the Habsburgs had established a
menacing military position on the southern shore of the Baltic, to which
Sweden had every reason to respond, carries more conviction than Ring-
mar’s dismissal of the reality of the threat. There are some small histori-
cal errors that do not undermine Ringmar’s basic argument, but also two
significant matters, inconsistent with his approach, which he fails to ad-
dress: the treaty that Gustavus, Protestant champion, signed with
Cardinal Richelieu and the distaste for war of another monarch facing
disputed succession and identity. James I. Ringmar might also have ques-
tioned whether masques, iconography, and mythic histories were effec-
tive propaganda, fully understood by their audience and tempered the
assertion that there is just “one” reason “that made Sweden act”—a rea-
son that excludes all others and remains unchanging over time (p. 124).
In other words, Roberts remains the starting point for anyone who
wants to know why Sweden went to war. Ringmar has given new sharp-
ness and detail to one aspect of that story—a welcome contribution that
adds a dimension, but not an all-encompassing explanation, to the histori-
ography on Sweden and the theoretical literature on war.
1473
Criminal Law, Tradition and Legal Order: Crime and the Genius of Scots
Law, 1747 to the Present. By Lindsay Farmer. Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1997. Pp. xi1207. $64.95.
Ian D. Willock
University of Dundee
1474
Clare Crowston
University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign
1475
origins in Greek antiquity to their high point in the 16th century and
their eventual submersion in protectionist economic regulation. He inter-
prets the 16th-century burst of regulation primarily as an attempt to en-
sure the “recognizability” of social groups and gender boundaries in soci-
eties shaken by urbanization and the rise of capitalism. Although these
new economic and social forces would quickly overcome the efficacy of
sumptuary law, Hunt insists on the persistence of moralizing regulations
on consumption to the present day.
The ambitions of this book reach well beyond the level of historical
synthesis. Extending his previous work on Michel Foucault and the
law—and his dissatisfaction with Foucault’s account of law in premod-
ern societies—Hunt offers his study as a contribution to the emerging
field he describes as the sociology of governance. According to Hunt, the
term “governance” refers to the range of institutions and organizations
that act to control and direct their objects through a set of variable and
incomplete practices or “projects.” The advantage of this concept, he ar-
gues, is that it situates legal regulation and government within a larger
framework of moral, economic, social, and political mechanisms. He thus
uses sumptuary law to illuminate major shifts in projects of governance
from the premodern to the modern era. First deployed as a means of
reinforcing existing taxonomies, they then served to regulate struggles be-
tween old and new elites and finally to protect emerging national econo-
mies.
Apart from its contribution to the discipline of sociology, this book
offers a great deal to historians, particularly those interested in the pro-
cess of state formation and the role of law in the expansion of state power.
By emphasizing the ways in which law constructs new objects of state
intervention, Hunt provides an important key to understanding the social
effects of government regulation. He also usefully rejects a top-down
model of the state, insisting on the importance of individual responses
and resistance to legal regulation and the existence of projects of gover-
nance outside official state institutions. Another significant contribution
of the book derives from Hunt’s interest in gender and the material as-
pects of sumptuary law. He addresses a series of fascinating issues around
these themes, such as the function of appearance as a form of symbolic
politics, women’s appropriation of clothing as a response to established
gender codes, and the role of material culture in social conflict in general.
Despite these achievements, the book suffers the inevitable failures of
its ambitious scope as well as more serious problems of interpretation
and analysis. Hunt’s attempt to derive a common model for sumptuary
law throughout Europe often obliges him to reduce the historical com-
plexity of his cases. Although he argues that the function and significance
of sumptuary laws shifted over time, he does not consider that they may
have also differed a great deal across regions and followed distinct trajec-
tories. His model relies on an underlying economic causality—the rise of
capitalism and an urban bourgeoisie—that leads him to simplify social
structures and systems of government and to downplay important geo-
1476
David I. Kertzer
Brown University
In the early 1990s, the Italian political scene was shaken by dramatic
revelations of political corruption, which with breathtaking speed led to
the political demise of an entire generation of political leaders and their
parties. Various efforts were undertaken to replace the First Republic,
which had been established at the end of World War II, with the more
wholesome Second Republic. A milestone in this social and political
transformation was the trial of financier/businessman Sergio Cusani that
began in October 1993 and ended half a year later. The first trial of Tan-
gentopoli, as the web of corruption cases came to be collectively called,
proved to be a dramatic galvanizing experience for the Italian people,
who followed it with amazement through daily television broadcasts. Per-
haps the most curious aspect of the trial is that its primary focus was not
on the guilt or innocence of the lone defendant, Cusani, but rather on
the moral and political guilt of the “political class,” that is, the nation’s
political leadership. While Cusani refused to testify, many of the major
political figures of the country were forced to appear, and through their
testimony, many were disgraced.
Sociologists Pier Paolo Giglioli, Sandra Cavicchioli, and Giolo Fele em-
ploy a semiotic approach to examine the Cusani trial in this book (Giglioli
has worked closely with Umberto Eco at the University of Bologna in
1477
1478
Mary Jo Neitz
University of Missouri
1479
1480
Adriano Prosperi
University of Pisa
Why do Italian Madonnas weep? And which threat lurks behind the veil
that covers those miraculous images? No doubt, such questions are highly
relevant: one only needs to consider the fact that Italian social life has
been dominated for centuries by images of weeping and bleeding Madon-
nas. During the age of the Reformation, Italian heretics and dissenters
criticized the practice of worshiping images—and particularly the images
of Mary—arguing that it was a form of idolatry. Carroll’s book is dedi-
cated to the memory of the most famous of these Italian heretics, Gior-
dano Bruno.
In this book, which is directed to sociologists, historians, and cultural
anthropologists, Carroll deepens his previous studies on Italian popular
Catholicism. With tight argumentation and a brilliant style of exposition,
he lays down his vast knowledge of the Italian history and folklore of
the last few centuries. The way in which the book begins and ends—
that is, with the story of an Italian maternal grandmother, of her difficult
infancy, and of her emigration to America—suffices to demonstrate the
author’s genuine interest in the subject and his ability to engage the read-
er’s emotions. The image of Mary and the Child is often interpreted as
a maternal and reassuring one or, alternatively, as the symbol of the Ital-
ians’ love for children. However, historical data show that Italy is also
the country of murdered and abandoned children. And the study of the
relationship of the Italians with those veil-covered and miraculous images
shows that these images also contain a somewhat threatening element.
Going back to the origins of the European debate on the cult of im-
ages—that is, to the times of the Reformation and Counterreformation—
Carroll claims that both Calvin and the Council of Trent emphasized
the relevance of this issue not because the issue itself was theologically
important, but because they were responding to social concerns that were
deeply radicated. On this occasion the split between Northern Europe
and Italy emerged, and a “popular Catholicism” imposed its needs and
views on those who were in charge of controlling them, that is, on the
bishops. Thus, “popular Catholicism” may be understood as the “national
Italian way” to Catholicism. As an alternative to the model of the “two
monads”—on the one hand, the official religion of ecclesiastical authority
and ruling class, intellectually correct and purged, and, on the other hand,
a popular religion that still included many remnants from a pagan past—
Carroll proposes a model in which the two forms of Catholicism are re-
lated to each other and result in a cultural formation of compromise. Ac-
cording to the “two monads model,” official Catholicism is the only one
to play an active historical role, whereas “popular religion” remains ten-
dentially passive. On the contrary, this study argues that such a relation-
1481
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Elisabeth S. Clemens
University of Arizona
The moral panics of the past often invite easy laughter. Compared with
the problems of the present, how are we to take seriously the social threat
posed by, of all things, skating rinks? There is too much obvious humor
in their critic’s high-minded questions: “Does it improve a young girl’s
modesty or morals to fall in a heap on the skating rink floor, with perhaps
her feet in the air and her clothes tossed over her head? Is it good for
her proper training to even see other females in such a plight?” (p. 123).
Upon reading Nicola Beisel’s elegant analysis in Imperiled Innocents:
Anthony Comstock and Family Reproduction in Victorian America, how-
ever, it becomes clear that we should take such movements for moral
reform very seriously. Although the objects of such movements may ap-
pear less than menacing in hindsight, Beisel argues persuasively that late
19th-century efforts to suppress abortion, contraceptive devices, pornog-
raphy, gambling, and, yes, even skating rinks, reveal the workings of crit-
ical processes of class formation in the United States. Her analysis de-
mands a recognition of the central role of the family in class reproduction,
a reconsideration of the relation between class and status, and a deep
appreciation of the centrality of culture to social structuration.
The central character in Imperiled Innocents is Anthony Comstock,
an entrepreneurial reformer of the Gilded Age who repeatedly mobilized
moral reform efforts, particularly in New York City and, in the process,
1483
1484
shall be a joy to a whole people for a thousand years” (p. 159). Imperiled
Innocents reveals the backstage mechanisms of class formation but does
not diminish the significance of these efforts at social alchemy. In recov-
ering the moral reform movements of the past, Beisel has constructed
both an elegant work of cultural analysis and a powerful theoretical lens
through which to reconsider the moral controversies of our own time.
Laurence Steinberg
Temple University
Adults have long been both irritated and puzzled by the rashness of
youth. Numerous psychological and social explanations for the putatively
greater propensity of adolescents to take risks have been offered over the
years, and, it is safe to say that few of these accounts have withstood the
test of empirical time. These scholarly failures notwithstanding, policy
makers and practitioners continue to lament the recklessness of teenagers,
and social scientists continue to search for the “real” cause of adolescent
risk taking. Despite the best efforts of academic researchers, though, un-
protected sex, underage drinking, experimentation with illicit drugs, and
fast driving remain mainstays of adolescence in contemporary America.
The Culture of Adolescent Risk-Taking departs from most current
views of risky behavior—views that, for the most part, attempt to ana-
lyze adolescent risk taking within the framework of behavioral decision
theory. According to such models, adolescent risk taking, like any behav-
ior, can be modeled as the rational (or near-rational) outcome of an or-
derly calculus, in which the costs and benefits of various courses of action
are fed into some giant discriminant function that resides within the ado-
lescent’s cortex. Not so, argues Cynthia Lightfoot, who contends that an-
alyzing the logic of risk taking overlooks the interpersonal and symbolic
culture in which risk taking occurs. In her view, context trumps cor-
tex.
Lightfoot is not the first to suggest that the arid analytic approach of
behavioral decision theory leaves something to be desired, at least as far
as an explanation of adolescent risk taking goes. Many other writers have
suggested that we look at young people’s risk taking as a social and inter-
personal, not cognitive, phenomenon that can not be adequately under-
stood without factoring into the equation such powerful forces as peer
pressure, societal expectations for adolescence as a period in the life span,
and cultural fads and fashions. The Culture of Adolescent Risk-Taking,
though, promises to be different; it promises to take us deep inside the
phenomenology of adolescent risk taking, through intensive interviews
with real young people themselves to find out “what it means to be a
teenager.” Never mind that the teenagers Lightfoot interviews are all up-
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1486
In plain language, adolescents take risks (a) because it is fun and (b)
because everyone else is doing it. May we have the next theory, please?
John H. Gagnon
State University of New York, Stony Brook
1487
men’s sex with men. The second would be with the very phrase that I
have just used. “Men’s sex with men” seems to Dowsett to reinforce the
conventional gender polarity, making men all alike rather than various
in their sexual desires and practices.
These concerns lead to a very interesting discussion of the “active
anus,” which challenges the assumption that active equals inserting and
passive equals being penetrated—a discussion that might be extended,
forgive the expression, to woman-man sex. The concept, the “active va-
gina,” comes to mind. Such a concept of the woman as seeking penetra-
tion has been recognized by psychoanalysis but only negatively, as in the
fantasy of “vagina dentata,” in which the sexually active woman equals
danger to the man.
Because many of the theoretical issues raised are intellectually and po-
litically difficult, most of them are not resolved. Dowsett is deeply sympa-
thetic to the working-class men in his study, but at the same time he
resists an essentialized class analysis. He is sensitive to the problems
raised by heterosexual patriarchy, but he is unwilling to extend the ana-
lytic categories generated by these analyses of this phenomena directly
to the lives of men whose lives are differently related to heterosexuality.
In the last analysis, what Dowsett wants is to separate the understanding
of the ways in which various kinds of men practice desire with other men
from understandings developed from other problem areas, even those
that appear to be closely related. Desire between men with different bio-
graphies in different historical and social contexts have to be understood
as an ongoing social practice with its own integrity and authenticity, not
as derivative of the dominant practices or understandings of gender or
heterosexuality.
There is much to be praised about this book, but I am less comfortable
with the methods of data collection. Dowsett has talked with 20 men
whose “theorized life histories” offer anecdotal evidence for his theoretical
arguments. There is a good deal of praise for such a method among those
disenchanted with structured interview schedules used in probability
sample surveys (which do have the virtue being systematic enough to be
criticized). However there is very little careful consideration given to the
problems of “life histories” as stories, particularly those that involve a
single semistructured encounter with the storyteller. There is even less
concern given to the problems of interpretation of the story by the auditor
and transcriber. These comments, and others that might be made, should
not be read as a plea to “quantify” or make more “rigorous” these meth-
ods. It is only a plea not to sanctify “qualitative” research methods as if
they had no limitations.
In Kenneth Burke’s discussion of Freud, he contrasts the mode of in-
terpretation that observes a cluster of “ingredients” and takes one of them
as the causal one (as Freud did with sex) with its alternative mode of
interpretation that stresses the relations between the ingredients in the
cluster. It is this latter strategy that characterizes Dowsett’s approach to
the many practices of desire embedded in changing historical and social
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Townsand Price-Spratlen
Ohio State University
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first,” both the “selective veil” and the gay realness choices are examples
of the potential benefits (and potential problems) of living prioritized
identities.
Unfortunately, too often the book overstates conclusions, going well
beyond what the data can effectively support. For example, after briefly
considering issues of gay socialization and the coming out process of gay
identity, Hawkeswood concludes that “issues of sexual preference appar-
ently are not a paramount concern to black people whose society has
already been marginalized by mainstream white America” (p. 140). This
is, at best, a gross oversimplification of the often contentious dealings
related to sex and sexuality in much of contemporary African America.
Second, the book is quite weak in not providing a systematic analysis
of the interrelationships between these diverse life details. In other words,
Hawkeswood begins by suggesting that “social-organizational and social-
interaction theory underlie [my] analysis of this gay black male communi-
ty’s relationship with outside, dominant groups” (p. 12). But this theoreti-
cal foundation is rather weak.
Third, an understanding of many aspects of these men’s lives is often
stunted by too much presentation without elaboration on issues where
elaboration would be quite important to the book’s broader intent (e.g.,
presenting the proportion of the sample that has ever “hustled” [having
been paid for sex] with little additional information, limited speculation
about the background factors that shape the likelihood that “being gay”
will be viewed as an identity, as more than an act of sex). This problem
is coupled with a curiously unsystematic analysis of these men’s social
networks, especially since social networks or fictive kin relations are cen-
tral to the book’s stated intent. The specific network dimensions (e.g.,
frequency of contact, intimacy, duration, etc.) are never thoroughly con-
sidered. Also, it would have been helpful to have been given a heuristic
or model to illustrate how overlapping ties, interdependence among those
ties, and other such issues fit into respondents’ lives.
Despite these limitations, One of the Children is a very needed and
valuable book that provides an accurate nonsensationalized view of an
easily marginalized group. These individuals were, for the most part, not
immobilized by any sense of a marginality rooted in shame, which made
this book a joy to read. The text is strong on details in the lives of these
men, with many long richly detailed quotes that provide us with a better
understanding of how they give meaning and significance to many as-
pects of their lives.
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Judith A. Howard
University of Washington
On April 30, 1997, Ellen DeGeneres came out. Virtually every lesbian I
know who came of age during the 1970s women’s movement—not to
mention millions of other U.S. viewers—was glued to the TV screen dur-
ing this episode, gathering to celebrate this milestone in the public ac-
knowledgement of queer existence. When I asked a twenty-something
lesbian friend the next day what she thought of this episode, she re-
sponded, “Oh, I didn’t see it.” This comment exemplified the generational
dynamics Arlene Stein characterizes in Sex and Sensibility: Stories of a
Lesbian Generation.
Stein’s Sisters, Sexperts, Queers: Beyond the Lesbian Nation (Plume,
1993) is an edited collection of voices of younger lesbians. Essays in that
volume focused on issues of identity, difference, debate, and change
within lesbian communities, all themes Stein develops much more fully
in this volume. Sex and Sensibility (an inspired title) traces the themes
and transitions of lesbian identities, consciousness, and cultures from the
1970s through the 1990s, drawing on, but not limited to, interviews with
40 lesbians, 30 of whom became adults during the 1970s and 10 born
between 1961 and 1971. As Stein notes, the legacy of 1970s lesbian femi-
nism has become highly contested within lesbian communities, with some
from the earlier generation fighting for the continuing importance of a
distinct and relatively homogenous lesbian identity, and others, mostly of
younger generations, worrying more about the dangers of categorization.
Reading this book was a curious experience for me. My own history
was described too accurately; I found myself thinking it could not have
been that simplistic, that rigid. But then again, that is history. The times
Stein writes of were more rigid, in some ways more simplistic, and they
were so for others as well as for lesbians and gay men. There were power-
ful voices of critique and dissent, but these tended to be more contained;
the political rhetoric encouraged conformity.
Stein traces a history of movement from essentialist understandings of
sexuality to considerably more nuanced constructionist understandings.
This history suggests how closely aligned lesbian thinking was with that
of other social groups, how much both personal and political theories
reflect the times in which they are generated. When she writes, “the move-
ment from ‘old gay’ to ‘new gay’ worlds signified the transition from a
world in which medicalized conceptions of homosexuality were virtually
undisputed to one in which they were loudly challenged, from a time
when lesbians occupied a deviant social role . . . to a time when lesbi-
anism became an identity, a reflective basis for self construction . . . a
movement toward greater consciousness” (p. 24) she could be writing also
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