Brian Donovan

Gross Misbehavior and Wickedness: A Notorious Divorce in Early Twentieth Century America: Elson, Jean Philadelphia: Temple University Press 325 pp.,

In 1897, Nina Chinn and James Walker married in a lavish ceremony reported in the national society pages. Twelve years later, Nina left home with her four children and the family silver. Nina claim...

30.89, ISBN: 978-1439913901 Publication Date: June 2017

properties alongside those from networks of DNA, transportation systems, and computers; or those that tend to reduce culture to what you can scrape online. McLean is careful to properly situate the study of online social network platforms (Facebook, Twitter, etc.) as an important but recent branch in this line of work that has considerable potential for investigating generic social processes, rather than as atheoretical data science. If there is a shortcoming to Culture in Networks, it is that it is almost too succinct. I took minor issue with what were undoubtedly some conscious omissions (e.g., cognitive and structural anthropology), and I would have appreciated even greater depth in a few areas, as well as perhaps a longer and stronger conclusion that pointed toward future directions. But this is akin to seeing a great band give an amazing performance that you wished were longer (of course you did!) and missing a song or two on your personal favorites list. Although the strengths of pithy organization far outweigh the problems, I hope its ease-of-use, relative brevity, and wide coverage will not discourage readers from seeing the central theoretical point—namely, the great value in sociologists’ continuing to chart the course between the Scylla and Charybdis of ‘‘pure’’ structural and cultural approaches. As a cultural object, Culture in Networks is itself a reflection of a growing social cohesion among scholars, and I suspect it will help to further that cohesion. For scholars already enmeshed in the subfield, Culture in Networks will provide a wonderful sourcebook with review-like breadth, both comprehensive and current. The text will be useful for clarifying a number of projects and situating one’s current work. However, I think Culture in Networks will find its widest distribution through various course syllabi, including for those who want to use the text in undergraduate and graduate-level courses on this particular subfield, or as a way to augment courses in networks and culture. Students will appreciate this work for its clarity and purpose, and a few will undoubtedly trace their future research trajectories back to having read it. Control and Protect: Collaboration, Carceral Protection, and Domestic Sex Trafficking in the United States, by Jennifer Musto. Oakland: University of California Press, 2016. 229 pp.

Control and Protect: Collaboration, Carceral Protection, and Domestic Sex Trafficking in the United States:

34.95 paper. ISBN: 9780520281967.

Queer brown voices: personal narratives of Latina/o LGBT activism

vis-a-vis the Portuguese language. This chapter introduces the history of some of the neighbourhoods studied and analyses the meaning of the lyrics sung there. Apart from the semantic and semiotic analysis, it also focuses on phonemes, morphemes, and chronotopes. It detailed the case of two Kriolu raps emphasizing the place component, regarding both the origin (Cape Verde) as well as the destination (Lisbon). In chapter 4, “Spatial Politics of Kriolu Presence in Lisbon” the analysis moves into a more political dimension by introducing the central argument of the book: the existence of a Kriolu citizenship. The two in-depth case studies of neighbourhoods go back first to the origins of social housing in Portugal, for later describing some projects of local intervention that took place in his case studies. Chapter 5 “Kriolu and European Interculturality” returns to the discussion of Lusotropicalism and the politics of European interculturalism by analysing in depth the public policies in this area as well as publications from public institutes. The analysis is critical and focuses on the logic of multiculturalism and interculturalism; in another dimension, it analyses the history of the Portuguese border police and nationality laws. Sometimes, the data obtained in Portugal are compared with data obtained by the author in his previous research in Brazil. This book is a mature and thorough work that combines an array of sources to deepen the questions asked. The theoretical object is original and the twist to focus on Kriolu rap distances it from other works on the hip hop culture in the suburbs of Lisbon often focused on the youth culture, graffiti, and break dance. This work uncovers an emerging identity in some neighbourhoods in Portugal (and in other European countries); this identity, of post-colonial nature contrasts with both the Portuguese identity and with the Cape Verdean. Knowing the experiences of this young in the field allows Pardue to argue against some of the officials and political discourses on multiand intercultural relations. However, the book has some serious errors that would have been easily avoided with a simple review either by a Cape Verdean or a Portuguese.

What’s Wrong with Fat?

material resources as defensive environmentalism just does not work. ‘‘Defensive’’ such decisions may well be, if we are using that term to describe self-serving behavior, but environmental they are not; and the lack of reference to the large field of scholarship on gender and fertility really limits the merits of the analysis. Ultimately, the fact that these smaller, higher-income families consume far more than larger, low-income families really challenges the sustainability premise. The case study on agri-food systems highlights another challenge to the analysis. Both producers and consumers tend toward the adoption of behaviors that amount to an environmental benefit through multiple pathways, too many to be lumped into a single dimension defining behavioral intent. For farmers in particular, as Rudel himself notes, many conservation practices employed in the United States were induced not by farmers’ pro-environmental initiative, but rather by federal policies with which farmers were required to comply in order to continue to receive federal support. Most crucially, I find the dichotomous typology consisting of defensive versus altruistic action to be a deductive and overly simplistic treatment of human behavior, and in some cases it is inappropriately applied to behaviors that are clearly not driven by environmental concern, defensive or otherwise, regardless of whether such actions may indeed have environmental consequences. Rudel also conflates defensive with local actions, and altruistic with global action, which I find equally problematic. There is absolutely no basis for presuming that local environmental action is necessarily always defensive in intent, or vice versa. The asserted relationship between income and environmentalist practice—with the poor leaning toward defensive environmentalism, and altruism more likely to emerge among the relatively wealthy—could also be subject to challenge. Interestingly, even the cases offered would appear to contradict this assertion, with attention focused primarily on the actions of the relatively well-off. In essence, we need to differentiate epistemologically between behavioral intent and material outcomes, and pay far more inductive attention to behavioral intent. Ultimately what is of interest is the outcome of human behaviors for global sustainability. But the fact that such outcomes might be predicated on multiple pathways of behavioral intent, including those which are not motivated by any form of environmental concern, defensive or otherwise, is both theoretically intriguing, and practically encouraging. Characterizing human behavior with environmental consequence in simplistic and, some could argue, normative or judgmental ways only muddies the waters.

Social Status and Cultural Consumption

In The New Jim Crow, civil rights lawyer and Ohio State University law professor Michelle Alexander examines the legal and social framework that supports the regime of mass incarceration of black men in the United States. As Alexander carefully recounts, beginning in the early 1980s with President Reagan’s declaration of a ‘‘War on Drugs,’’ a number of policy initiatives, Supreme Court decisions, and vested interests, aided and abetted by political divisiveness and public apathy, coalesced to create the social, legal, and political environment that has supported mass incarceration ever since. Alexander’s analysis reveals disturbing parallels between the racial caste systems of slavery, Jim Crow, and today’s mass incarceration of black men in our country. In the end, however, Alexander shies away from proposing a potentially successful strategy for redressing the dilemma she so carefully depicts. Rather, she ‘‘punts,’’ or ‘‘cops out,’’ as we would have said in earlier eras. Alexander begins her analysis with a brief history of the several hundred years of variously oppressive race relations between whites and blacks in the United States. Quite correctly, Alexander observes that this history may be fruitfully understood as a sequence of renascent forms of social control refashioned to the new tenor of the times. Thus, Alexander traces the history of American political rhetoric in the latter half of the twentieth century where ‘‘law and order’’ comes to constitute code for ‘‘the race problem’’ and a policy of malign neglect toward African Americans is transmuted into an active political strategy devised to develop Republican political dominance in the southern states. Ultimately, as we know, the twin themes of crime and welfare propelled Ronald Reagan into the presidency. Searching for a follow-up initiative to define his early presidency, Reagan settled on increased attention to street crime, especially drug law enforcement. In short, the War on Drugs was not some disembodied social agenda, nor was it driven by public demand, as only two percent of Americans believed crime was an important issue at the time. Rather, as Alexander shows, the War on Drugs was a direct outgrowth of race-based politics and therefore the fact that it has had a disproportionate impact on young black men should come as no surprise. Alexander next turns her attention to the interwoven details of the social, legal, and political fabric that wrap the War on Drugs in supportive garb. As Alexander recites, the War on Drugs is the cornerstone on which the current regime of race-based mass incarceration rests because: (a) convictions for drug offenses are the single most important cause of the explosion in incarceration rates since 1980, and (b) black Americans are disproportionately arrested, convicted, and subjected to lengthy sentences for drug offenses when compared to white Americans, even though drug use rates among white Americans have been consistently shown to be higher than for black Americans. Thus, any practices or policies that support the execution of the War on Drugs support the continuation of our movement toward mass incarceration of an entire category of Americans. Among the many developments Alexander reviews, one may note: changes in Supreme Court doctrine with respect to police stops, warrantless searches, consent searches, and suspicionless police sweeps for drug activity; federal initiatives to offer grants to support narcotics task forces; the development and expansion of modern drug forfeiture laws which permitted state and local law enforcement agencies to keep the vast majority of seized cash and assets in drug raids; and the legislative enactment of mandatory minimum and ‘‘three strikes’’ sentencing schemes, and their ready

Murdering HolinessMurdering Holiness: The Trials of Franz Creffield and George Mitchell, by PhillipsJimGartnerRosemary. Vancouver: University of British Columbia Press, 2003. 347 pp.

Beginning in 1902, Franz Creffield attracted a devout group of followers in the Pacific Northwest by advocating an unmediated personal relationship with God and an ascetic lifestyle. The “holy rollers,” as locals referred to them, lived undisturbed in Corvallis Oregon for almost a year until they destroyed all of their material belongings in a bonfire to declare their faith in God’s protection. Like the reactions to Jim Jones and David Koresh, many accused Creffield of sexual immorality, destroying families, and wielding a coercive emotional and psychological power over his followers. Like the history of the Peoples Temple and the Branch Davidians, Creffield’s sect encountered waves of hostility: tarring and feathering by vigilantes, involuntary psychiatric commitments of sect members, criminal adultery charges brought against Creffield, and excoriation of the group in the local press. A man named George Mitchell, angered by his two sisters’ involvement with the group, followed Creffield to Seattle and shot him dead in a city street. Using a close, detective-like analysis of a wide-range of primary source material, Phillips and Gartner’s Murdering Holiness analyzes the emergence and demise of Creffield’s sect, and along the way they have some fascinating things to say about alternative religious groups, journalistic practices, gender, and criminal justice. Although the book will attract some readers for its detailed investigation of a controversial religious sect, others will find value in Phillips and Gartner’s sociolegal analysis. In particular, Mitchell’s murder trial demonstrates the ways in which gender ideology shapes the legal sphere and the administration of justice. In some of the most engaging chapters of the book, Phillips and Gartner explore the use of the “unwritten law” as a murder defense. The unwritten law, which became a focal point of the murder trial, justifies a man killing another who had seduced his wife, sister, or daughter. Local newspapers weighed in on the reasonableness of Mitchell’s actions and the Seattle public debated his guilt and innocence. Among the Seattle public, the case became a virtual referendum about the need for law and legal process versus the imperatives of masculine virtue. Some worried that acquitting Mitchell represented a drift away from civilized principles and toward barbarism. Others supported Mitchell’s acquittal based on a manly duty to protect one’s family. Days after the jury found George Mitchell not guilty for the murder of Franz Creffield, Esther Mitchell shot her brother in a crowded train station. Although Esther asserted that she had the same right as her brother to take the law into her own hands, women rarely invoked the unwritten law. The unwritten law was a legal and cultural resource reserved almost exclusively for men. Accordingly, the press framed the actions of Esther Mitchell and her coconspirator, Maud Creffield, as insanity produced by religious zealotry. The insanity hearing of the sisters provides an instructive contrast to Mitchell’s murder trial. In both, observers interpreted the behavior of the defendants through gender-bound lenses of masculine and feminine virtue and obligation. The history of Creffield’s religious sect contains all the elements of a bizarre thriller: adultery, rumors of sexual perversity, vigilante justice, insanity pleas, and multiple revenge murders. Following a microhistorical approach that finds theoretical lessons in everyday life, Phillips and Gartner offer new insights into the relationship between law and culture. Their microscopic case study illuminates the ways in which the application of law is created and constrained by regional norms, gender ideology, and quotidian notions of honor and justice. Despite its numerous insights, the book lacks a conclusion that ties together all of its arguments. Likewise, there is little theoretical framing in the Introduction, leaving the reader with the burden of teasing out lessons applicable to other cultures, contexts, and times. This will not concern many readers drawn to the book for its exploration of local history and its strange and twisting plotlines. In fact, its open-ended quality might make it a useful teaching tool coupled with more theoretical-