The American Society For Ethnohistory: Duke University Press

The American Society for Ethnohistory
Introduction: Travel Literature, Ethnography, and Ethnohistory Author(s): Caroline B. Brettell Source: Ethnohistory, Vol. 33, No. 2 (Spring, 1986), pp. 127-138 Published by: Duke University Press Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/481769 . Accessed: 16/01/2014 15:33
Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of the Terms & Conditions of Use, available at . http://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp
.
JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide range of content in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and facilitate new forms of scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact support@jstor.org.
Duke University Press and The American Society for Ethnohistory are collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and extend access to Ethnohistory.
http://www.jstor.org
This content downloaded from 147.91.1.44 on Thu, 16 Jan 2014 15:33:26 PM All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions
ETHNOHISTORY 33(2):127-138
BRETTELL
INTRODUCTION: ETHNOGRAPHY,
Caroline B. Brettell
TRAVEL LITERATURE, AND ETHNOHISTORY

The Newberry Library
Claude Levi-Strauss begins Tristes Tropiques with a declamation against travel accounts. He is bewildered by their popularity and suspicious of their intentions. Travel books, he claims, have helped to "preserve the illusion of something that no longer exists" (1972: 39). Yet, Tristes Tropiques is as much the narrative of a voyage as it is an ethnographic description and it therefore accentuates a relationship between the traveler and the ethnographer. Although the majority of travelers in the past clearly did not view themselves as professional ethnographers, modern ethnohistorians and historical anthropologists have frequently used their accounts as a source of ethnographic data, and histories of the anthropological discipline often include discussions of such notable travelers as Herodotus and Marco Polo (Hodgen 1964). While contemporary ethnologists tend to regard fieldwork and participant observation as their primary methods of data collection, a century ago anthropologists depended almost entirely on the accounts of missionaries and merchants, traders and travelers for their ethnographic material. As Stocking (1983b) has recently reminded us, Notes and Queries was originally directed to travelers and non-anthropologists who might provide the raw data for the armchair ethnologist at home. This collection of papers, generatedfrom among a group of scholars with varying intellectual and cross-cultural interests, has as its focus an interdisciplinary and critical examination of travel literature. Its goal is to encourage dialogue about the merits of travel accounts as sources for ethnohistorical research. The papers, therefore, range widely both in historical period (seventeenth to nineteenth centuries), and in kinds of people they are discussing (Australian aborigines, Mediterranean peasants, South American Indians, Neapolitan and Venetian urbanites). Throughout the world, travelers have made observations about peoples and places that are of interest to scholars, and no matter where one works and how one works (as a historian, literary critic, or ethnographer), if one wants to learn about the past or about historical context, delving into travelers' accounts of foreign peoples and foreign places becomes a necessity. The heterogeneity of the papers in this volume is an indication of the shared epistemological questions with which any researcher must approach this literature. In their analyses of diverse bodies of travel literature, the authors of these papers touch upon a number of issues, though by no means all, related to the use of travel accounts in ethnohistorical research. This introduction will attempt to outline some of these issues in order to set the papers into a broader context of discourse. To a certain extent, the issues overlap because they all revolve around the problem of how the ethnohistorian distinguishes the cultural baggage which the traveler brings with him and through which he sees the world from the actual observations he makes and records. It is no accident that the questions which can be asked in the process of evaluating travel accounts can and are being asked of ethnographies themselves. Of central importance, as Clifford (1980: 209) has recently
128
CAROLINE B. BRETTELL
noted, "are the ways in which distinct groups of humanity imagine, describe, and comprehend the other."
Describing the Other: Travel Accounts as Texts As a result of recent analyses by Boon (1982), Crapanzano(1977), Marcus (1980), Marcus and Cushman (1982), Rabinow (1985), and Webster (1982), attention has been focused on the rhetorical elements of ethnographies as texts apart from, or at least in addition to, their factual content. These authors have documented an increasinginterest among anthropologistsin "styles of text construction" and "narrative effect." Most ethnographic writing, they argue, has been steeped in selfconscious literary conventions. Among these are an effort to detach the ethnographer from his text and make him unobtrusive, an emphasis on the native point of view and on native concepts, an abstraction from individuals to "common denominator people," and the use of discipline-specific jargon (Marcus and Cushman 1982). New experiments with ethnographic writing are, they suggest, a reaction to some of these now recognized conventions. The message which these students of ethnographic texts wish to convey is clear. If ethnographies are the primary source of raw data for the anthropologist, we must be aware of the genre conventions and rhetorical devices-traditional or experimental-which characterize them. We must be able to elucidate the literary criteria influencing the ethnographer's choice of what to write and how to write it. And we must be able to fathom the relationship between texts and the social and intellectual world from which they are generated. Similar arguments can be made for travel accounts as a primary source of raw data for the ethnohistorian. Indeed, Thornton (1983: 503) has recently argued that "the format and rhetorical conventions of the ethnographic monograph must be examined in the context of other types of writing (travelogue, missionary letter, diary, and journalism) whose content was often very similar." Although all the contributors to this volume wrestle in some respect with these questions, Noakes and Rotenberg pursue the issues of rhetorical style and the ethnographic authority which it underpins most closely. Leaving to the anthropologist the decision of what in the accounts of travelers to Naples in the early nineteenth century might be of factual ethnohistoric utility, Noakes analyzes the use of topoi-commonly held notions about people, places, or things-as a literary device characteristic of these accounts. Topoi represent a rhetorical baggage carried by the traveler and must be distinguished from actual observations. From this perspective, it is not surprising that both the city and cityfolk of Naples discussed by Noakes, and the Italian countryside and peasantry discussed by Brettell were often described with similar epithets, derived from commonly held notions of the "picturesque." The rhetorical conventions of travel accounts have been noted by a few others. George (1958: 65) has suggested that an ethnocentric bias focuses the traveler's attention not so much on what is actually seen but on what he expects to see based on what he has heard in his own culture. "Thus, particular items of description, and even particular turns of phrase become established and persist, often through centuries, and lend the weight of specific instances of statement to the impression
TravelLiterature
129
of continuity which this literature conveys." Constantine (1984: 2) has noted that travelers "were the receiversand carriersof current literary, aesthetic, and cultural ideas; they traveled with these and saw . accordingly. Hodgen (1964: 184) attempts to correct the notion that travelers were "willful frauds, attempting in folly to gull their homebound fellows. They were members of the European community, they drew upon a stock of ideas common to all. .. .When abroad, their eyes saw no more than their minds, shaped at home, were prepared to accept." While Hodgen may emphasize too much and too universally the ethnocentric vision of the traveler, the stock of ideas about the other clearly influenced the way in which many travelers saw and described the other. Jewkes (1963), from a broader historical perspective, traces the conventionality of subject matter in travel accounts back to the nineteenth century; of manner to the eighteenth century, and of aim, intention, and philosophical viewpoint to the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Indeed, it was in the sixteenth century that travel accounts firmly emerged as a popular literary form. However, with the exception of the obvious cases of well-known writerswho produced travel books (Byron, Shelley, Flaubert, Lawrence, etc.), literary specialists have generally paid more attention to the voyage as a motif (Clark 1980) than to the travel account as a work of literature with its own literary devices. Only Adams (1983), in a very recent study, has rigorously explored the shared conventions which similarly characterize early novels and travel accounts. In fact, ethnohistorians have rarely considered, where it is possible, using the realist novel en par with the travel account as a source of data. Yet, it is evident that the lines between fact and fiction are often blurred when literary devices and conventions are shared. Can something about nineteenth century French peasant life be learned, for example, from Emile Zola's rendering of it in his novel La Terre?' Clearly, part of Herbert's (1980) aim in his skillful analysis of three different "Marquesan Encounters" (those of the missionary Alexander, the colonial/imperialist Potter, and the romantic novelist Melville)is to achieve this blending of different genres of observation and writing (see also Boon 1982). Noakes continues in this tradition by suggesting first that novels should be considered together with myriad other sources in any attempt to determine the topoi within any literary tradition about a specific place or people; and second, that these topoi must be fully understood before an evaluation of the travel account as fact or fiction is possible. The relationship between rhetoric and ethnographic authority raised by Marcus and Cushman (1982) has been most fully addressedby Clifford (1983). Responding in part to Louch's (1966) labeling of ethnographies as "traveler's tales," Clifford traces the historical development of ethnographic authority and characterizes its changes through time. At present, the ethnographer has a number of options available and can choose from among a variety of different "modes" of ethnographic authority in his attempt to bring coherence to the textual chaos of his field data. Clifford alludes early in his essay to the similarities and differences between ethnographersand travelers. In general, both attempt to transport a readerthrough their writing to another place and to convey a knowledge of the other, yet we are to take the ethnographer's report more seriously (i.e., on authority) because his knowledge is presumably informed by science and based on neutrality. The use
130
CAROLINEB. BRETTELL
of a third person literary device instead of the first person "I was there" is meant to evince this authority-a scientific distance, and an element of objectivity.2 In fact, a complex dialectic between the experience gained through participant observation and the interpretation included in the writing up of that experience is established through the choice of a particular authoritative stance. The issues that Clifford raises about the authority of ethnographic texts can equally be considered in an evaluation of the authority (and hence the authenticity and accuracy) of travel accounts. The application of a similar frame of analysis moves us away from the easy assumption that the former are necessarily better than the latter;they are simply different forms of descriptionof social life. If Tristes Tropiques is any indication, the travel form can sometimes serve quite effectively to enhance the experientialmode of authority. Indeed, one should rightfullywonder about Levi-Strauss's intention in choosing this particular mode for the presentation of his fieldwork two decades after its completion. In this volume, Rotenberg takes Clifford and the question of ethnographic authority as a starting point for his analysis of a pseudonymous travel account of Vienna written by an insider pretending to be an outsider. Rotenberg argues that it is the authority given prior to the twentieth century to the traveler as portrayer of the other-he had actually been there-which makes this particular account, despite its dissimulations, successful.3 Pseudonymity, however, also permits certain liberties conventionally restricted in ordinary travel literature. In this particular case, it allows the author Gross-Hoffinger, a Viennese writing as a German, to remain authoritative and authentic to both his own culture and that of his readership. In contrast to most travel accounts, the cultures of the writer and his audience do not coincide here, although they clearly are not remote. Gross-Hoffinger's description of Vienna is a holistic account which serves to inform the reader fully about the Austro-Hungarian capital during the Biedermeier period. Indeed, Rotenberg makes an analogy between this compendium holism and the holism of early ethnographies with their "familiar tables of contents." Yet, it is also an account with a particular point of view which is well served by the authoritative third person stance characteristic of realist ethnography. In fact, Rotenberg pursues a number of comparisons between ethnographic rhetorical devices and those used by Gross-Hoffinger. In this sense, he furthers the discussion taken up by Clifford, Noakes, and others, although by application of a rather curious, though by no means unique, example. Perhaps the most famous literary ancestor is to be found in Montesquieu's adoption, in his Lettres Persanes, of a pseudo foreign letter genre to mask his critical social commentary.4 However, as Van Roosbroeck (1932) has demonstrated, even Montesquieu's choice of genre can be fitted into a long literary tradition. Gross-Hoffinger continues in the tradition, using pseudonymity to convey specific political opinions.
Imagining the Other: The Myth of the Primitive All of the papers in this volume deal fully or in part with the nineteenth century.
Travel Literature
131
During this century, tourism became common and, consequently, travel books proliferated. Fussell (1980: 38) has suggested that the rise of tourism during the nineteenth century was directly linked to the "bourgeois vogue of romantic primitivism"5 Yet if ethnographies are informed by science, by current and commonly held theoretical stances, so too were travel accounts, especially those which proliferated during a time when increasing contacts with "the other" led to a constant formulation and reformulation of "scientific ideas" about biological and cultural evolution and the nature of civilized man. Although from a twentieth century perspective these ideas are often labeled "culturally arrogant and ethnocentric (Cole 1972: 52), at the time they were the prevailing theoretical paradigms, and as such they influenced in a significant way the manner in which the other was portrayed, be he an Australian aborigine, an American Indian, or even a European peasant. Romantic primitivism encompassed prevailing scientific notions. Both Strong and Brettell address themselves directly to this question and both conclude that the commonly held notions about the nature of primitive or peasant society as distinct from European (i.e., civilized) society emerge clearly in travelers' accounts and need to be kept distinct as one level of textual reading. Although neither one uses the word topos, they are clearly demonstrating the presence of rhetoricaldevices similar to those which exist in the literatureon Naples and Neapolitans in descriptions of Australian aborigines and southern European peasants. And yet, their analyses add further dimensions to our understanding of the process by which "the other" was imagined, a process which is equally present in the accounts of American travelers to Britain who "even to this day . . . invent their own Britain before they see it" (Lockwood 1980: 461). Brettell argues that the ideas formulated at home, some derived from science and others from literary romanticism, created a complex portrait of the southern European peasantryduring the nineteenthcentury. Travelersseemed to be wrestling with the contradictory and changing notions about the rural folk of Europe in their descriptions of or passing comments on peasant life. On the one hand, peasants were base, dirty, and, like Australian aborigines, low on the totem pole of evolution. On the other hand, these were also Mediterranean peasants who belonged to the sensual world of the south rather than the cerebral world of the north (Pratt 1981). Yet there is another point which emerges in Brettell's discussion. In numerous instances, travelersencountered something contrary to what their "minds had been shaped to expect." They often recorded their shock, and more commonly their disgust. In Brettell's view, this reflects something which was "really there." If the travel writer errs in including a moral comment or avowal of distaste or disapproval, the supremely relativist ethnographer errs in the other direction and in the process offers an incomplete description. Recently, Prattis (1985: 109) has questioned the practice of relegating the experiential "collision of unfamiliar cultural assumptions" to the poetry which anthropologists write about fieldwork rather than to the field reports (ethnographic monographs) themselves. Despite their ethnocentric biases embodied in particular notions about peasant society (the continental European primitive), Brettell believes that travel accounts do contain a considerable body of useful information about the rural folk of Europe. A number of years ago, in an analysis of western views of Africa, George (1958: 69) arrivedat a somewhat similarconclusion. As early as the seventeenthcen-
132
tury, she claimed, a kind of self-conscious craft emerged among travelers who recorded their observations. They viewed themselves as contributing to a specific literary genre and as a result felt "a certain pride in workmanship, and . . . a sense of responsibility to the standards of their task-to be the eyewitness of a fact and to tell the truth about it." She associates this concern with an emerging emphasis on the positive aspects of primitive life. Certainly such positive aspects emerge in some of the accounts from which Brettell quotes. Descriptions of the Australian aborigines were equally embedded in contradictory rhetorical vocabularies. Fathoming the primitive from the perspective of the South Seas involved an attempt to reconcile a notion of dirty, unpleasing, and "beast-like" creatures with astonishingly (to the traveler and explorer) human attributes of material culture and social organization. Standards of western civilization were applied by Europeans who went to this region with certain expectations of what they were going to find, and whose accounts of their findings colored the expectations of those who followed them. Thus, Strong gives us a much better sense of the impact of the accounts she discussesthan does Brettell, and therefore of the way in which specific stereotypes arose and persisted. That Dampier, Cook, and their successors were explorersratherthan travelers,and that they were describing a place far from Europe's backyard may help to explain the widespread popularity of their accounts. It is certainly worth considering differences in the reception of travel narratives in any analysis and evaluation of the various accounts which are lumped into the travel literature category. In fact, Fussell's distinctions between the explorer, the traveler, and the tourist may prove useful here. "All three," he says, "make journeys, but the explorer seeks the undiscovered, the traveler that which has been discovered by the mind working in history, the tourist that which has been discovered by entrepreneurship and prepared for him by the arts of mass publicity (1980: 39). Among the myriad accounts quoted by Brettell, some clearly are the product of tourists rather than travelers who set out to study with intense interest the rural folk of southern Europe, and, in some cases, to really "get inside" that world. As Nash (1983) has pointed out, however, not enough attention is paid to the process of differentiation, selection, and transformation to guide us further (in distinguishing between studious travel accounts and touristic fantasies (Fussell 1980). The form of the account itself-a guidebook, an itinerary for those on the grand tour, a journal, a narrative, a series of letters to a real or fictional person back home-is clearly an important consideration in any attempt to evaluate the observations it contains. In his identification of the pseudonymous form, Rotenberg alone treats this consideration seriously. There is one final point to be made in a comparison of the contributions of Brettell and Strong and that is the uncanny parallel fixation of nineteenth century travelers in particular on the position of women in primitive and peasant societies. Women clearly epitomized the most exotic manifestation of "the other." Whether as toilsome beasts or sensual, often naked, beauties, they presented a dramatic contrast to the Victorian ideal of womanhood.6
TravelLiterature Comprehending the Other: Cultures in Contact
133
The relationships between cultures in contact is, in the view of some ethnohistorians, the major focus of their research endeavor. Clearly, travel accounts are fundamentally about situations of contact and it is perhaps the point of intersection between observer and those observed which should receive the most attention from the ethnohistorian using this corpus of literature as a source. For example, the excessive comments about skin color and other attributes of physical appearance,and about certainculturaldeficienciesin comparison with the "civilized world" that are mentioned by Strong may indeed emanate from certainethnocentric prejudices of the observer, but they also tell us something about the situation of contact and the context in which the description was formulated. The point of reference in the travel account is the readership, members of the traveler's own culture who for varying motives may themselves be contemplating future contact. In this sense, travel accounts are quite different from ethnographies, which selfconsciously attempt to describe with reference to the native point of view and attempt to eliminate (new experimental ethnographies excepted)7 any notion of contact. Jones takes this culture of contact and its changing nature between 1740 and 1900 as her primary frame of reference. Travel narratives, in her view, do not document what is specifically Indian, but an intercultural frontier, or, as Foster (1982: 25) has called it, "an interstitial subculture." Similarly, Strong is focusing on the intercultural frontier between pirates or explorers with particular commercial interests and the natives of the South Pacific. Brettell documents an intercultural frontier between city and country in nineteenth century Europe, and between the industrialized north and the underindustrializedsouth. Noakes picks up on the latter in her analysis of the city of Naples as a southern city seen through a northerner's eyes. Yet Jones's paper moves beyond the others in its attempts to understand what the contact situation really meant and the motives behind the production of travel accounts. Just as much of twentieth century anthropology must be viewed as the "child of westernimperialism"(Gough 1968),as a body of knowledgewhich emerged to answer the questions which people had about the various societies which were under their colonial umbrella (Maquet 1964), so too did many travelers' accounts answer the questions which pre-twentiethcentury individuals had about the worlds out there with which they had commercial or colonial dealings. British travel accounts of Argentina were strongly influenced by both political and economic interests, and they changed over time as these interests changed. In their content, they reflected varying degrees of what people wanted to know and comprehend about the other. During the early nineteenth century, travel narratives were propagandistic instruments to encourage settlement and to stimulate trade-they were "commoditized." Their promotional and commercial aspect met the commercial demand for knowledge.8 Only later in the century did they become exotic and mysterious, emerging into a distinct literary form, in part in response to the appeal for the romantic and the primitive alluded to in the previous section. The objectification of the form, Jones argues, "colored the objectivity of the observations." The implication of Jones's arguments is that as users of travel accounts, ethnohistorians must have an appreciation of the audiences for whom
134
CAROLINEB. BRETTELL
travel accounts were written, and therefore of the motives behind their production in order to fully evaluate them as sources.9 Similarly, and as Marcus and Cushman intimate, the pressure of publishers for greater commercial success may not be insignificant in more recent attempts among ethnographers to experiment with new styles of writing. This line of thinking leads to an entire range of questions which can be posed of travel accounts, questions which are more implicitly suggested than explicitly developed in the essays included here. What, for example, do we know about the traveler himself or herself? What was his education? What were his motives for travel-professional, educational, commercial, military, missionary, scientific? To what extent did the travelerparticipatein the culturethat he observed and recorded? To what extent might the sex and age of the observer have influenced what were determinedto be interestingmatters to describe?Just as critics of ethnography urge us to come to terms with the self of the anthropologist (Prattis 1985), so too should we come to some terms with the selves of travelers. Individual travelers are unique and each develops a unique style depending on the time at which he is writing, the place he is writing about, the audience he is addressing, and his own background and motivations. The more we know about the travelerand, from other sources, about the reality which the traveler describes, the better we will be able to judge his account. Such an attitude towards travel literature proposes an analysis of the genre similar, for example, to the analyses proposed by Bourdieu (1979) and Said (1982) for writing in general. The criteria mentioned are, as Said (p. 7) suggests, "the ingredients making for a politics of interpretation." In the final analysis, these are the fundamental methods of history and ethnohistory themselves: asking of any source, who wrote it, when, where and why?; comparing it to other sources dealing with the same subject matter generated from the same or different historical contexts (Carmack 1972). Many years ago, Evans-Pritchard (1962) called for an evaluation of ethnographies within a similar framework, but only recently have anthropologists and others responded to his call.
Conclusion The subject matter of travel accounts, like ethnographies, is supposedly factual, and yet there is an element of subjectivity, a mark of a writer influenced by literary conventions and intellectual context. Although all of the contributors to this volume caution us in different ways about this element of subjectivity, none of them reject the utility of the travel account as an ethnohistorical source. There is a great deal to be learned from travel literature about situations of contact and the way in which stereotypes were played out in the confrontation of "others." The moral judgments are often there, but we need simply to be wary of them and to realize that they too are "facts" of cultures in contact. Furthermore, there are travelers who took their obligations to record quite seriously and who have left us with unusually rich documentations of the ways of life in parts of the world for which any other written sources are scarce. The authors of these papers attune us to a number of facets of the travel account as a form that should influence how we select and interpret any single account as an ethnohistoric source. Not all facets have been explored here, however,
Travel Literature
135
and as ethnohistorianswe need to procede in our dialogues about how to distinguish between good and bad observations, and about the credibility of particular eyewitness accounts (Nash 1983). As Defert (1982: 12) has recently stated, "It is not that nothing existed before anthropology. What there was must be reread as organized knowledge, coherent and efficient and produced by tactics of domination which can be identified." While I would disagreethat all travelaccountsemerged solely out of this dialectical domination, it is certainly an important aspect to consider. In the long run, ethnographies and travel accounts are not unhappy bedfellows. All human accounts are mixtures of observation, interpretation and convention. Although Levi-Strauss distinctly expressed his "loathing" of both travel and travelers, he left us with a record of his voyages, thereby couching his observations and interpretations within a particular literary genre. MacCannell, in his brilliant study of The Tourist, uses this to point to the fact that even at present the differences between tourists and social scientists, at least at the outset, may not be so great-"they share a curiosity about primitive peoples, poor peoples and ethnic and other minorities" (1976: 5). He suggests that "by following the tourists, we may be able to arrive at a better understanding of ourselves." Is this not one of the fundamental aims of the ethnographic enterprise as well?
Acknowledgment The author would like to thank Mario Carelli for his invaluablecritical reading of this introduction. Notes in the affinitiesbetweenethnography 1. Recentinterestamonganthropologists and ficA sessionat the 1983meetingof the AmericanAntion shouldalso be considered. Association wasdevotedto thisissue.Perhaps we arereadyto reevaluate thropological thehistorical to Laughter. discusof LauraBohannan's Return Forfurther importance sion, see Boon (1982) and Webster(1982). Along somewhatvariantlines, see also Handler(1983), Heath (1978), and Prattis(1985). 2. Seealso the veryinteresting discussion of the "shiftto thethirdperson"in Fernandez constituted (1985),and Stocking's(1983b)accountof the way in whichMalinowski his authority. 3. Consider the minimal we givethemtodayexceptas guidesto "thebestplaces authority to stay or to eat." 4. Althoughnot totallyanalogous,it is also worthconsidering the relationship between travelaccountsand the wealthof imaginary pseudonymous voyageswhichachieved inmanyinstances sucha highdegree of realism thattheyweretotallybelievable (Adams onehasto wonder to a comparison withtheethnographic enterprise, 1962).Withregard travel betweenthe mythestablished aboutpossiblesimilarities by the pseudonymous to Malinowski's accountand the euhemerist mythwhichStocking(1983b)attributes searchfor ethnographic authority. somewhatdiffer5. Baudet(1965:65) views nineteenthcenturyromanticprimitivism of all notionsof self-deprecation whichwere a totalabandonment ently.He describes presentin the idealizationof the primitivein earliercenturies.
Insofaras the nineteenth Incenturydid developa specificexoticism-the American diannovel,the Crusoe Conrad, Loti,Gauguin, cult,novelsof the SouthSeas,Stevenson, the to be directed books-it seldom seems Hesse,Kipling's against countryor Jungle continentof origin.
136
6. In this connection, see Foster's (1982) discussion of Flaubert's interest in the exotic femininity of foreign lands. 7. Clifford (1982: 144), for example, suggests that "fieldwork may best be seen not as a process of description or interpretation of a bounded other world, but as an interpersonal, cross-cultural encounter that produces descriptive-interpretive texts." 8. For a similar discussion of the travel accounts of Africa, see Thornton (1983). 9. The emic/etic distinctions that Price (1980) applies to an evaluation of three classes of ethnohistorical data are useful to consider in this regard. On the context of production, as well as the public and political destiny of travel literature, see the discussion of Defert (1982).
References Adams, Percy G. 1962 Travelers and Travel Liars: 1660-1800. Berkeley: University of California Press. 1983 Travel Literature and the Evolution of the Novel. Lexington: University Press of Kentucky. Batten, Charles L., Jr. 1971 The Eighteenth Century English Travel Writer: A Study of His Literary Technique. Ph.D. Dissertation, University of Chicago. Baudet, Henri 1965 Paradise on Earth. New Haven: Yale University Press. Boon, James A. 1982 Other Tribes, Other Scribes: Symbolic Anthropology in the Comparative Study of Cultures,Histories, Religions, and Texts. Cambridge:CambridgeUniversityPress. Bourdieu, Pierre 1979 La Distinction: Critique Sociale du Jugement. Paris: Editions de Minuit. Carmack, Robert M. 1972 Ethnohistory: A Review of Its Development, Definitions, Methods, and Aims. Annual Review of Anthropology 1:227-46. Clark, L. D. 1980 The Minoan Distance: The Symbolism of Travel in D. H. Lawrence. Tucson: University of Arizona Press. Clifford, James 1980 Review of Orientalism by Edward W. Said. History and Theory 19:204-23. 1982 Person and Myth: Maurice Leenhardtin the MelanesianWorld. Berkeley:University of California Press. 1983 On Ethnographic Authority. Representations 1(2): 118-43. Cole, Richard G. 1972 Sixteenth CenturyTravel Books as a Source of European CulturalAttitudes Toward Non-White and Non-Western Culture. Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society 16:59-67. Constantine, David 1984 EarlyGreekTravellers and the HellenicIdeal. Cambridge: CambridgeUniversityPress. Crapanzano, Vincent 1977 On the Writing of Ethnography. Dialectical Anthropology 2:69-73. Defert, Daniel 1982 The Collection of the World: Accounts of Voyages from the Sixteenth to the Eighteenth Centuries. Dialectical Anthropology 7:11-20. Evans-Pritchard, E. 1962 Anthropology and History: Essays in Social Anthropology. New York: Free Press. Fernandez, James W. 1985 Exploded Worlds-Text as a Metaphor for Ethnography. Dialectical Anthropology 10(1-2): 15-26.
Travel Literature
137
Foster, Stephen William 1982 The Exotic as a Symbolic System. Dialectical Anthropology 7:21-30. Fussell, Paul Press. 1980 Abroad:BritishLiterary TravelingBetweenthe Wars. Oxford:Oxford University George, Katherine 1958 The Civilized West Looks at Primitive Africa, 1400-1800: A Study in Ethnocentrism. Isis 46:62-72. Gough, Kathleen 1968 New Proposals for Anthropologists. Current Anthropology 9:403-7. Handler, Richard 1983 The Dainty and the Hungry Man: Literature and Anthropology in the Work of Edward Sapir. In Observers Observed: Essays on Ethnographic Fieldwork, ed. by George W. Stocking, Jr., 208-32. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press. Heath, William 1978 Melville's Search for the Primitive. Dialectical Anthropology 3:315-30. Herbert, T. Walter 1980 Marquesan Encounters: Melville and the Meaning of Civilization. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press. Hodgen, Margaret T. 1964 Early Anthropology in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press. Jewkes, W. T. 1963 The Literatureof Travel and the Mode of Romance in the Renaissance.In Literature as a Mode of Travel: Five Essays and a Postscript, 13-30. New York: New York Public Library. Kemble, Frances A. 1835 Journal. 2 Vols. London. Levi-Strauss, Claude 1972 Tristes Tropiques. New York: Atheneum. Lockwood, Allison 1980 Passionate Pilgrims: An American Travelerin Great Britain, 1800-1914. New York: Cornwall Books and Associated University Presses. Louch, A. R. 1966 Explanation and Human Action. Berkeley: University of California Press. MacCannell, Dean 1976 The Tourist: A New Theory of the Leisure Class. New York: Schocken Books. Maquet, Jacques 1964 Objectivity in Anthropology. Current Anthropology 5:47-55. Marcus, George 1980 Rhetoric and Ethnographic Genre in Anthropological Research. Current Anthropology 21:507-11. Marcus, George, and Dick Cushman 1982 Ethnographies as Texts. Annual Review of Anthropology 11:25-70. Montesquieu, Charles Louis 1913 Lettres Persanes, ed. by Henri Barckhausen. Paris: Librairie Hachette et Cie. Mulvey, Christopher 1983 Anglo-American Landscapes: A Study of 19th Century Anglo-American Travel Literature. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Nash, Dennison 1983 Of What Use Is Travel Literatureto Ethnography? Comment at a panel on "Travel Literature and Ethnography," 82nd Annual Meeting of the American Anthropological Association, Chicago, November 16-20. Pratt, Mary L. 1981 Mapping Ideology: Gide, Camus, and Algeria. College Literature 8(2): 158-71. Prattis, J. Iain 1985 Anthropological Poetics: Reflections on a New Perspective. Dialectical Anthropology 10(1-2): 107-17.
138
Price, Barbara J. 1980 The Truth Is Not in Accounts but in Account Books: On the Epistemological Status of History. In Beyond The Myths of Culture, ed. by E. B. Ross, 155-80. New York: Academic Press. Rabinow, Paul 1985 Discourse and Power: On the Limits of Ethnographic Texts. Dialectical Anthropology 10(1-2): 1-14. Said, Edward W. 1982 Opponents, Audiences, Constituencies, and Community. In The Politics of Interpretation, ed. by W. J. T. Mitchell, 7-32. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Stocking, George W., Jr. 1983a History of Anthropology: Whence, Whither. In Observers Observed: Essays on EthnographicFieldwork, ed. by George W. Stocking, Jr., 3-12. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press. 1983b The Ethnographer's Magic: Fieldwork in British Anthropology from Tylor to Malinowski. In Observers Observed: Essays on Ethnographic Fieldwork, ed. by George W. Stocking, Jr., 70-120. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press. Thornton, Robert 1983 Narrative Ethnography in Africa, 1850-1920: The Creation and Capture of an Appropriate Domain for Anthropology. Man 18:502-20. Van Roosbroeck, G. L. 1932 Persian Letters Before Montesquieu. New York: Publications of the Institute of French Studies. Webster, Steven 1982 Dialogue and Fiction in Ethnography. Dialectical Anthropology 7:91-114.

The American Society For Ethnohistory: Duke University Press

Încărcat de

Informații document

Descriere originală:

Titlu original

Drepturi de autor

Formate disponibile

Partajați acest document

Partajați sau inserați document

Opțiuni de partajare

Vi se pare util acest document?

Este necorespunzător acest conținut?

Drepturi de autor:

Formate disponibile

The American Society For Ethnohistory: Duke University Press

Încărcat de

Drepturi de autor:

Formate disponibile

The American Society for Ethnohistory

TRAVEL LITERATURE, AND ETHNOHISTORY

TravelLiterature Comprehending the Other: Cultures in Contact

S-ar putea să vă placă și