New Mexico Books

No problem has given rise to more disagreement among economists than that of economic and social change. Is it a mechanical static concept concerned mainly with economic equilibrium, or an evolutionary dynamic, one concerned with growth, development, and expansion? Hamilton argues that how one answers this question is the fundamental point of difference between classical economics and evolutionary or institutional economics. Hamilton defines classical economists as all those in the economic mainstream, from Adam Smith to John Maynard Keynes, and institutional economists as only those who are followers of Thorstein Veblen. He traces the origin and development of the two points of view by showing how economists have dealt with the problem of change since the time of Smith. He discusses the Newtonian and Darwinian frames of references: change and human nature, change and social organization, and change and progress. For Hamilton, economics as a science is part of a continuum with the other social sciences, one capable of incorporating the major sociological, as well as the economic issues of the twentieth century. It is in theories of dynamics, he charges, that the classical theoretical structure is without foundation, because it accepts a mechanical and essentially static concept instead of a cumulative cultural outlook.

In reviewing Evolutionary Economics, in The Economic Journal, S. G. Checkland said that it should be read as a vigourous attempt to relate economic to general thinking and as a challenge to those who are practitioners of elaborators of narrowly prescribed techniques. The work is of particular interest to social scientists interested in economic development, where the static concepts of conventional theory seem least applicable and where an adequate concept of social and economic change is vital.
--- from book's back cover

In 1845, with war with Mexico immanent, the US government authorized three expeditions to explore the boundary territory between the two countries: two of them were relatively famous (Kearny's survey along the Oregon Trail to South Pass and Fremont's expedition to California), but the third (Abert's exploration of the Canadian River in New Mexico, the Texas panhandle, and Oklahoma) was much less known; this interesting and well-annotated book is the official report of that expedition.

Leaving Bent's Fort near the end of August, with the legendary Thomas Fitzpatrick acting as guide, the command of about 30 men made their way through Raton Pass, then southeast to the Ute River, which they followed to where it enters the Canadian near present-day Logan. Turning east, the men marched through the Canadian River Valley across the panhandle of Texas, where Abert reiterated Stephen Long's opinion that this part of the West was a "great American desert." Fearing the Indians at first, Abert writes of pleasant, friendly encounters with the Kiowas and Comanches. After making an unintended detour when the North Fork of the Red was mistaken for the Wichita River, the party got back on course again and by the third week in October had reached their destination of Fort Gibson in eastern Oklahoma.

Abert was a clear, observant writer, and he describes much of the natural scenery encountered, including plant and animal life; he also writes intriguing accounts of the Indians and traders he met along the way. H. Bailey Carroll's excellent and detailed annotations made for the 1941 reprint (which this version copies) are a chief highlight of the book. The only things wanting in this book are good, detailed maps (only one rather cursory map is included). But as an early first-hand description of this part of the country, Abert's official report is magnificent.

These are reprints of the observations of The Marvelous Country: Samuel Cozzens' accounts of his experiences in New Mexico and Arizona Territories during the mid-1850s. My review of that book is lengthy and every word of it applies to this one as well.
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The Cozzens experience describes an ancient land during the final years before discoveries of gold, Apache wars, the Civil War and a focus of interest from California and the east changed it forever. He visited Zuni, Acoma, Laguna, Mesilla, Tucson and Sacaton and describes them as they'd never be seen again. He saw the Zuni Mountains as an old-growth forest. He met and stayed spent a long while in the Apache camp of Cochise, where he had dealings with Mangas Colorado.
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I love reading Cozzens because I love history and I love the southwest. If those interest you, even a little, I believe you'll love reading him as much as I do.

In "Explorers in Eden," Jerold S. Auerbach, professor of history at Wellesley College, provides an insightful and critical account of the complex relationships between "explorers"--anthropologists, artists, photographers, and entrepreneurs--and the Pueblo Indians of New Mexico and Arizona from John Wesley Powell and Frank Hamilton Cushing at the end of the 19th century to the students of Franz Boas--Ruth Benedict, Ruth Bunzel, and Esther Schiff Goldfrank in the 1920s and 1930s. This followed by a chapter on the more recent feminist scholars who have found "inspirational models among their female predecessors, and grist for their gendered critique of American society" (p. 145). In an Epilogue Auerback places himself among the "explorers." This is an important and provocative book. While there are other explorers Auerbach might have considered, what he has chosen to do he does with wit and grace and, above all, a clearer sense of these encounters in a larger historical framework than any student of the Pueblos has attempted before.

"Los Ojos del Tejedor: The Eyes of the Weaver" is a wonderful regional story based on the author's youth. She is a descendent of the Ortega family of Chimayo. The Ortega family has been weaving in the small, rural community of Chimayo for more than eight generations and the quality of their rugs and blankets is well known. They own a store in Chimayo and in several other locations where their Hispanic style rugs and blankets are sold in many sizes. Chimayo is a mountain community north of Santa Fe best known for the Santuario de Chimayo, an old adobe church pilgrims flock to for its miracles of healing and tourists visit as a fine, historical example of New Mexico adobe churches.

This book beautifully describes Hispanic traditions and the importance of teaching the children these skills. Ten year old Cristina loves going to her grandparents' house, but she is particularly nervous about this trip. She knows that she is going to spend a week there to learn how to weave and is filled with anxiety over weaving as well as her grandfather, and she doesn't speak Spanish as well as she'd like. Her mother suggests that her cousin, who speaks better Spanish, should join her and their grandparents, and that makes Cristina feel more confident about her visit.

This delightful book moves beyond learning to weave on the loom. Cristina weaves in her own memories of Hispanic culture through other activities during this visit. Spanish words and phrases are sprinkled as regional seasoning, adding depth to the flavor of her story. A glossary of these words is found at the back to help non-Spanish speakers navigate their way through this book. Phrases are translated in the text of the book. In addition to stumbling with her grandfather's Spanish, she also picks regional vegetables from the garden and cooks traditional New Mexican foods, which also contributes to the fullness of the text.

The illustrations add a lot to the text. They are done in a "painterly" syle common among the works of the early Taos painters, supporting both the regional and historic feel of this book. The book does a beautiful and complete job of representing the New Mexico Hispanic culture and is a must for anyone who wants to learn more about this subject. But in addition to the social studies lesson, this book is about families and how they relate to one another. It is a personal story about a child's belonging to her family and rising up to their expectations with love and compassion.

This collection of correspondance between Pound and Cutting gives insight into the FDR era and the creativity that pervades it. Drs. Walkiewicz and Witemeyer should be commended for their meticulous research into the scene and political movements that still affect America today. One can not overlook the power of personality and friendships. Allegiances were so strong that formal political connections pale in comparison to the effect Pound had on the day.

This moving novel opens with Ellen Rood's suspenseful encounter with a rattlesnake in the early morning hours and ends late the same day with a vagabond, Leo, dying of TB while sleeping in the back seat of a junked car. Through the course of the day between these two events townspeople gather on the courthouse square where a riot nearly breaks out over the deep feelings of hopelessness in the face of poverty brought on by the Depression. The sheriff breaks it up, but accidentally shoots and kills a young man (Franz Vosz) when he fires off a warning shot. Apologies are made, the dead youth's family grieves, and life goes on.

The events of the story are not as important as the people and their reaction to things: Ellen's courage in killing the snake, Andrew Lake's fortitude and steadfastness while tending to his windmill, even Mrs. Vosz's knowledge that it was her insistence that Franz, against his wishes, go to town that day which leads to his death. The novel, Horgan's favorite of his own works, is poetic and carefully developed - the work of a real craftsman. We empathize easily with the characters and are deeply moved by their courage in the face of tragedy and violence and death. Horgan wrote that the main subject of the book was "human charity," and we can see that in the characters' willingness and insistence to go on, come what may.

I purchased this book looking for photographs by John Collier, Jr., and found Russell Lee and Jack Delano, too. I absolutely must have more of their work and will continue to look. Looking back, it seems that in the 1960s, journalism photography was defined by action-packed scenes from the Vietnam War, but these photos of the 1930s and '40s are more a document of how people lived in these adobe villages of New Mexico, particularly around Taos, (but also the trainyards of Albuquerque, and Anglo villages like Pie Town). I had sought out Collier's photos because of their still-life art quality--and found more. All these photos are quiet; they are haunted, somber, and play in the imagination long after the book is placed back on the shelf. These photos are like objects of contemplation, meditations on a vanished way of life preserved forever on film, the faces of women and men, boys and girls captured for posterity.

Truly, I believe that the people in these photos were not poor--as we think of the Depression; they were rich in culture and family connection, rootedness to their villages. My favorite Collier photo is "Congregation leaving the church after mass, Trampas, New Mexico, 1943." The women are in their Sunday best clothing ("American" style), vulnerable to the wind and snow, but faithful to their customs and way of life, while the buildings all around are "quaint" adobe. The haunted quality of these b & w photos is similar to that of Ansel Adams's, "Moonrise, Hernandez, 1941"--depicting a Hispano village about to change forever because of World War II and the out-migration of villagers. Thank you forever to everyone involved with preserving these photos; soulful gratitude to the long-gone photographers.

Charles Strong's career as a Bay Area artist spans four decades and many different mediums. Fire And Flux is an impressive catalog of his achievements using a visual approach to explore his works. Insights into his intentions and philosophy are included but the meat of the book lies in these presentations of his art.

"Fire from the Andes" is a collection of short stories written by women from Bolivia, Ecuador, and Peru. Latin American literature has few prominent female authors and these three Andean countries have even fewer women writers. Having spent several months in all three of these countries, I can attest to the passion for life shared by this part of the world. This passion is reflected in these women's short stories, albeit sometimes painful and disappointing. Although these are fiction, the lives the women describe are common in these beautiful, magical, amazing countries.