#American Geographical Society

[footnotelovenote]

My header image! An extremely high-res, zoomable map of central London in 1815.

Full Title: A new and correct map of London, Westminster and Southwark, exhibiting the various improvements to the year 1815 Edition: Second edition, with the intended street from Carlton House to the Regents Park. N.B. the proposed street is coloured yellow. Short Title: London, England 1815 Publication Date: 1815 Map Publisher: London—R. Rowe Source: American Geographical Society Library, University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee [permalink]

[detroitography]

Map: City of Detroit Official Map of Detroit's Transportation System 1931

This 1931 Detroit Street Railways transportation map from the digital collections at the American Geographical Society Library, University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee Libraries is a beauty. Can we bring back the bus route through the center of Belle Isle? I’ve been cataloging maps in various archives and collections to get a comprehensive picture of Detroit’s cartographic history. In the Fall,…

[xtruss]

There are as many variations on the Feast of the Seven Fishes as there are participants. Menus often have changed drastically since the turn of the 19th century, but the object of cultivating family and heritage remains. Photograph By Andrew Scrivani, The New York Times/Redux

What is the Feast of the Seven Fishes?

This Christmas Eve seafood feast is an Italian American tradition that dates back to an immigration wave in the 1900s.

— By Allie Yang | Wednesday July 26, 2023

An episode aptly titled “Fishes” from Hulu’s breakout series The Bear explores complex family dynamics against the backdrop of an Italian American tradition: The Feast of the Seven Fishes.

Throughout the Season 2 episode, no one seems able to adequately explain its history. Characters attempt to contextualize the origins of the meal, with explanations ranging from “it’s tradition… the seven fishes” to “it’s a chance to be together and to take care of each other and to eat together, and there’s seven fishes, which means you have to make seven entirely different dishes, seven entirely different ways.” A discerning viewer will note the circular reasoning.

By episode’s end, the audience might leave with unanswered questions. Namely: What is the Feast of the Seven Fishes, and where did it originate?

Italian Origins

The Feast of the Seven Fishes is a dear tradition to many Italian Americans who enjoy (at least) seven different seafood dishes on Christmas Eve. You might find labor-intensive preparations of baccalà (salted cod fish), calamari fritti with lemon and marinara sauce, stuffed escarole, fried smelt, scungilli (conch) in a chilled seafood salad, and stuffed clams oreganata.

You won’t hear about “festa dei sette pesci” in Italy though, says Michael Di Giovine, professor of anthropology at West Chester University of Pennsylvania and author of Edible Identities. In Italy, the holiday is simply “la vigilia,” “the eve” of Christmas. And fish is really only eaten in Southern Italy on the holiday.

This is because the feast has evolved to be uniquely Italian American over the past hundred years.

At the turn of the 19th century, Italian immigration exploded, numbering 300,000 in the 1880s, jumping to 2 million by 1900. As Italian immigrants moved away from extended family and their children grew and married Americans, the Feast of the Seven Fishes evolved from la vigilia into something much more extravagant. Di Giovine says the feast was a way to differentiate themselves, a marker of identity. It also became a tradition to strengthen bonds with both family present and ancestors past.

Today, there are as many interpretations of the feast as there are participants, Di Giovine says.

Why Fish—And Why Are There Seven?

A vast majority of Italian immigrants to the United States were from rural Southern Italy at the turn of the 19th century. When the country was unified in 1861, they had new freedoms from a weakened aristocracy. They came to America because there were jobs (from building railroads to skyscrapers) and mobility. Friends and family found success and brought their loved ones to the U.S.

Some say fish was chosen for the Feast because it was plentiful for impoverished families in Southern Italy. Others say the sea represented Italian Americans’ connection between their old and new homes. Still others say fish was served simply because it’s seen as an aphrodisiac.

Though many families no longer associate the feast with Catholic tradition, there’s likely a religious explanation for the seafood. The first Christians used fish iconography to denote membership. In one biblical tale, Jesus procures a large catch of fish, and promises his disciples an abundance of followers when he commands them to be “fishers of men.” To this day, the Pope wears the “ring of the fisherman.”

Seven is also a holy figure: it’s the number of sacraments and deadly sins. In the Bible, Jesus miraculously feeds a crowd of people with seven loaves and fishes. “Consumed in multiples of seven, then, fish may be a deeply ingrained symbol of sanctifying and revivifying a plentiful group, and of promising continued abundance for posterity,” Di Giovine writes in a 2010 paper on the subject.

Tradition is Always Evolving

Italian culture is very regional, with small communities specializing in certain foods. North and Central Italy didn’t eat fish on Christmas Eve. The rush of immigrants at the turn of the 19th century were from the South, which has Spanish influences on the language and food. Fish, olive oil, vinegar, beans, tomatoes and fried foods like pizza fritta (pizza pockets) and zeppoles (donuts) are foods from the Italian South (notably not pasta).

In the 1900s, anti-Italian sentiment was high and Italians from different regions were lumped together by outsiders. Eventually, traditions also became melded together to produce the current Americanized image of pan-Italian food that ranges from pizza to cannoli, which are both regional in Italy.

After World War II, Italians were accepted members of American society. They moved (with everyone else) to the suburbs, their kids went to school with those from other backgrounds, and TV was popularized, homogenizing the population’s taste. Language and religion are lost quickly in this situation, Di Giovine says, and food could be a way to separate yourself that you could choose when to use.

Writer and director Robert Tinnell made a comic in 2004 about his experience with the Feast of the Seven Fishes, which he later made into a 2019 movie. Growing up in North Central West Virginia, he fondly remembers his great grandmother organizing the Feast. After she died, his grandfather and other men in the family took over. That particular masculine domesticity is something that the first Italian immigrants would have also performed out of necessity: men came to America first, without their wives and daughters.

However, knowledge about where to shop, when to prepare, how to cook, the history behind the meal, and family traditions quickly became the responsibility of mothers to pass down to their daughters, Di Giovine says. They are also likely the ones who have the ultimate say in making changes to recipes. Over time, families often tweak the menu to make things easier, cheaper, more abundant, and more accommodating of dietary restrictions.

“We’re not precious. I do a couple things that would have been on her table,” Tinnell says, referring to his great grandmother. “But then my wife loves seeking out new things. A few years ago, we picked up oysters and set them up outside over open flames; we roasted them in the shells. My family never did that. But I wouldn't trade the time that I spend with my father-in-law, my brothers, to all the kids—it's a new thing. And that's what's important here… that togetherness and that shared experience.”

[meteorologistaustenlonek]

"This week on Planetary Radio, we take a peek behind the scenes at National Geographic's new documentary, “The Space Race,” which celebrates the triumphs and struggles of the first African-American space pioneers and astronauts. Co-directors Diego Hurtado de Mendoza and Lisa Cortés, space pioneer Ed Dwight, and astronaut Leland Melvin join us to discuss the film."

[dailyadventureprompts]

Do the ethnostates inherent in major fantasy ever feel real weird to you? You’ve got elftopia (full of elves, where everyone speaks elf and worships the elf gods), orc-hold (full of orcs and maybe their slaves, where everyone speaks orc and worships the orc gods), and dwarfton (made by the dwarves! for the dwarves!).

You might have some cosmopolitan areas, usually human-dominant, but those are usually rare enough in-setting that they need to be pointed out separately. Is this just based on a misunderstanding of the medieval era, and the assumption that countries were all racially homogenous?

This has been bouncing around my brain the last little while. Do you have any thoughts on that? Is it just in my head?

I think what you've noticed is a quirk of derivative fantasy writing, which like a lot of hangups with the genre originates in people trying to crib Tolkien's work without really understanding what he was going for:

Though it contains a lot of detail, Tolkien's world is not grounded. It functions according a narrative logic that changes depending on what work in particular you're focusing on at the time (The Hobbit is a fairytale full of tricks and riddles, Lord of the Rings is a heroic epic, The Silmirilion is a legendary history).

One of the reasons the races are separate is to instill the feeling of wonder in the hobbits as POV characters for the reader, other folk live in far off places and are supposed to feel more legendary than our comparatively mundane friends from the shire. The Movies captured this well where going east in middle earth was like going back in time to a more and more mythologized past.

In real life, people don't stay static for thousands of years, no matter how long their people live. They meet, mingle, war and trade. Empires rise and fall creating shrapnel as they go, cultures adapt to a changing environment. This means that any geographic cross section you make is going to be a collage of different influences where uniformity is a glaring aberration.

What the bad Tolkien knockoffs did was take his image of a mythical world and tried to make it run in a realistic setting. Tolkien can say the subterranean dwarven kingdom of Erebor lasted for a thousand years without having to worry about birthrates or demographic shifts or the logistics of farming in a cave because he's writing the sort of story where those things don't matter. D&D and other properties like it however INSIST that their worlds are grounded and realistic but have to bend over backwards to keep things static and hegemonic.

Likewise contributing to the "ethnostate" feeling is early d&d (backbone of the fantasy genre that it is) being created by a bunch of White Midwestern Americans who were not only coming from a background of fantasy wargaming but were working during the depths of the coldwar. Hard borders and incompatible ideologies, cultural hegemony and intellectual isolation, a conception of the world that focused around antagonism between US and THEM. These were people born in the era of segregation for whom the idea of cultural and racial osmosis was alien, to the point where mingling between different fantasy races produced the "mongrelman" monster, natural pickpockets who combined the worst aspects of all their component parts, unwelcome in good society who were most often found as slaves.

This inability to appreciate cultural exchange is likewise why the central d&d pantheon has a ton of human gods with specific carveouts for other races (eventually supplemented with a bunch of race specific minor gods who are various riffs on the same thing). Rather than being universal ideals, the gods were seen as entities just as tribalistic as their followers.

[yeoldenews]

Hi! Where do you find all your news clippings, especially the Victorian ones? Currently I’ve been devouring every book I can get my hands on about Victorian era anything. But really I want to get a sense of the people, and I’d love to just browse through Victorian era letters/newspapers.

Thanks for any help or ideas!

While many historical newspapers are behind a paywall, there are still tons available for free online. Unfortunately they are scattered on lots of different sites so you sometimes have to dig a bit.

The largest single free online newspaper collection is Chronicling America, which is jointly run by National Endowment for the Humanities and the Library of Congress - however it only has American newspapers.

The National Library of Australia has a similar large online collection called Trove, and The National Library of New Zealand has Papers Past.

Most large universities or state historical societies have some sort of online newspaper collection, usually limited to their particular geographic area.

When I start a project focusing on a certain area my first google search is usually '[location] newspaper archives', just to see what pops up.

If you can't find what you're looking for on a free archive, try contacting your local public or university library! Many libraries have subscriptions to paid archival sites, some of which you can even access at home if you have a library card.

[centrally-unplanned]

Stumbled on this 1992 interview with Michael Crichton about his 90's Japan Scare novel Rising Sun, which is very fun. For one, Crichton is a Perotist!

Question: “Rising Sun” makes a strong argument that Japanese business is unfairly aggressive and Americans are foolish to have tolerated this unfairness for so long. Is that a decent synopsis? Answer: Not exactly. Let me just restate it. In the immortal words of my hero, Ross Perot: “It’s not a two-way street. It never has been a two-way street. It’s not their fault.” It’s our fault.

His 90's "Declinist America Needs Protectionism" vibe really comes through in the whole interview, you forget these days due to Trump how much of a Type of Guy that was and how intellectual-coded it could be in that era of dominant "unreflective" neoliberalism.

Anyway, we certainly did talk about race in the 90's!

Q: Do you consider the Japanese racist? A: [...] We’re talking about a historically inward-looking nation, an island nation, largely monoracial. That’s a good structure in which to have the rise of feelings of superiority about your own people as opposed to other people in the world. Of course, these broad statements can’t be applied to the individual Japanese person. One of the things that Americans, as a multiracial society, feel is a tremendous sensitivity to racial comments of all kinds. In the book, one of the things I tried to say to Americans was: Hey, while you’re tiptoeing around the race issue, your competitors are a monoracial country, very much aligned, and tend to hold in common beliefs that would astound you.

Narrator: America did not, in fact, "tiptoe" around the race issue.

But to be clear it isn't like this is super wrong or anything - 90's Japan absolutely was a "racist country" if such a thing is possible, most countries are, and its geographic isolation and relative lack of modern immigrants at that time certainly did contribute to that. What I instead find amusing is the idea that this is a threat to the US; the implication is that, because Japan is a racist country, when they rule the world economically they will in some way impose that racist worldview upon us. Which, I don't really think that is how free trade works? Might have watched too much Gunbuster on this one buddy.

We of course have the classics of Japan Scare:

Q: Has the continued decline in the Japanese stock market, their falling real-estate value and shrinking foreign investment caused you to rethink your views of Japanese-American business dealings? A: No, not at all. I’ve not seen figures on what the growth of the Japanese GNP will be this year. You hear stories about economic distress in Japan, but you see that the growth rate is going down to 4% from 5%. If this country had a 4% growth rate, we’d all feel like we were pumped full of testosterone.

-😬😬😬-

Narrator: it did not stop going down at 4%.

What i love most is how you see the same exact arguments about American "economic weakness" you see today, but with the dates/countries swapped around:

Q: What allowed us to contribute so willingly to our own weakening? Greed? Altruism? Shortsightedness? Arrogance? A: (following a large sigh) You have to look back at broad time periods. It’s possible now to argue that Americans have had no increase in real earnings power since 1962. Some economists would dispute that, and set the date at 1973. Either way, the country is in a steady, consistent and ongoing decline. Why? That’s an extended conversation. 

Obviously since then US living standards have gone up quite a lot! You definitely *cannot* argue that they did not go up since 1962, that is in fact an insane claim. You can't argue they haven't gone up since the 90's either. Even in Japan they have, they definitely have in Europe, economies grow in general. And of course the classic "American companies are all gambling now":

No one invests in a company anymore, in the way it was done in the ‘50s, say, because they believe the company is good. They buy because they think the price of the stock will rise or fall. What this means is that American managers are obliged to manage in the short term. There’s no incentive for an investor to hang on with a company for the long term. In Japan, savings--up to a certain point--are tax free. Why is that not also true in America? You want savings? Then don’t tax it as ordinary income.

I will leave posting a list of the most high-value companies over the past 30 years as an exercise for the reader; you don't need it, you already know them. But I certainly see versions of this dancing around today, and you definitely saw it in 2008 all over the place.

No real skin off Crichton's back, to be clear - prediction is hard, he isn't an economist, most will be wrong. Just funny how the ideological churn keeps spinning.

[transmutationisms]

@cubeghost sure, here are some places to start:

"Spectacles of Difference: The Racial Scripting of Epidemic Disparities", Keith A. Wailoo (Bulletin of the History of Medicine 94.4, 2020, 602–625, DOI 10.1353/bhm.2020.0085)

This essay explores how epidemics in the past and present give rise to distinctive, recurring racial scripts about bodies and identities, with sweeping racial effects beyond the Black experience. Using examples from cholera, influenza, tuberculosis, AIDS, and COVID-19, the essay provides a dramaturgical analysis of race and epidemics in four acts, moving from Act I, racial revelation; to Act II, the staging of bodies and places; to Act III, where race and disease is made into spectacle; and finally, Act IV, in which racial boundaries are fixed, repaired, or made anew in the response to the racial dynamics revealed by epidemics. Focusing primarily on North America but touching on global racial narratives, the essay concludes with reflections on the writers and producers of these racialized dramas, and a discussion of why these racialized repertoires have endured.

"Epidemics Have Lost the Plot", Guillaume Lachenal & Gaëtan Thomas (Bulletin of the History of Medicine 94.4, 2020, 670–689, DOI 10.1353/bhm.2020.0089)

This article draws on Charles Rosenberg's classic essay "What Is an Epidemic?" (1989) to reflect on the complex narrative structures and temporalities of epidemics as they are experienced and storied. We begin with an analysis of Rosenberg's use of Albert Camus's The Plague and a discussion of how epidemics have been modeled in literature and in epidemiology concomitantly. Then, we argue that Charles Rosenberg's characterization of epidemics as events bounded in time that display narrative and epidemiological purity fails to account for the reinvention of life within health crises. Adopting the ecological, archaeological, and anthropological perspectives developed within African studies enriches the range of available plots, roles, and temporal sequences and ultimately transforms our way of depicting epidemics. Instead of events oriented toward their own closure, epidemics might be approached as unsettling, seemingly endless periods during which life has to be recomposed.

"Revisiting "What Is an Epidemic?" in the Time of COVID-19: Lessons from the History of Latin American Public Health", Mariola Espinosa (Bulletin of the History of Medicine 94.4, 2020, 627–636, DOI 10.1353/bhm.2020.0086)

This essay considers what thirty years of scholarship on the history of epidemics in Latin America and the larger hemisphere can bring to a current reading of Charles Rosenberg's influential 1989 essay, "What Is an Epidemic? AIDS in Historical Perspective." It advocates that taking a broader geographical view is valuable to understanding better the arc of an epidemic in society. In addition, it proposes that, to see the ways in which the United States is experiencing the COVID-19 pandemic, we need to place the United States alongside the experiences of other countries of the Americas rather than making comparisons to Europe.

"The model crisis, or how to have critical promiscuity in the time of Covid-19", Warwick Anderson (Social Studies of Science 51.2, April 2021, 167–188, DOI 10.1177/0306312721996053)

During the past forty years, statistical modelling and simulation have come to frame perceptions of epidemic disease and to determine public health interventions that might limit or suppress the transmission of the causative agent. The influence of such formulaic disease modelling has pervaded public health policy and practice during the Covid-19 pandemic. The critical vocabulary of epidemiology, and now popular debate, thus includes R0, the basic reproduction number of the virus, ‘flattening the curve’, and epidemic ‘waves’. How did this happen? What are the consequences of framing and foreseeing the pandemic in these modes? Focusing on historical and contemporary disease responses, primarily in Britain, I explore the emergence of statistical modelling as a ‘crisis technology’, a reductive mechanism for making rapid decisions or judgments under uncertain biological constraint. I consider how Covid-19 might be configured or assembled otherwise, constituted as a more heterogeneous object of knowledge, a different and more encompassing moment of truth – not simply as a measured telos directing us to a new normal. Drawing on earlier critical engagements with the AIDS pandemic, inquiries into how to have ‘theory’ and ‘promiscuity’ in a crisis, I seek to open up a space for greater ecological, sociological, and cultural complexity in the biopolitics of modelling, thereby attempting to validate a role for critique in the Covid-19 crisis.

Constructing the Outbreak: Epidemics in Media and Collective Memory, Katherine Foss (2020, ISBN 9781625345271)

Constructing the Outbreak demonstrates how news reporting on epidemics communicates more than just information about pathogens; rather, prejudices, political agendas, religious beliefs, and theories of disease also shape the message. Analyzing seven epidemics spanning more than two hundred years―from Boston's smallpox epidemic and Philadelphia's yellow fever epidemic in the eighteenth century to outbreaks of diphtheria, influenza, and typhoid in the early twentieth century―Katherine A. Foss discusses how shifts in journalism and medicine influenced the coverage, preservation, and fictionalization of different disease outbreaks. Each case study highlights facets of this interplay, delving into topics such as colonization, tourism, war, and politics. Through this investigation into what has been preserved and forgotten in the collective memory of disease, Foss sheds light on current health care debates, like vaccine hesitancy.

"Reconsidering the Dramaturgy", Dora Vargha (Bulletin of the History of Medicine 94.4, 2020, 690–698, DOI 10.1353/bhm.2020.0090)

This essay reconsiders epidemic narratives through the lens of polio to examine temporal shifts and overlapping and conflicting temporalities and assess some of the stakes in how we conceptualize the epidemic dramaturgy. I argue that while the dramaturgy of epidemics serves as a thread around which people, state actors, and institutions organize experiences, responses, and expectations, consideration of the multiplicity of epidemic temporalities is crucial in understanding how medical practice and knowledge are shaped and transferred, particularly with attention to actors that might be rendered invisible by the conventional narrative arc.

i also recommend the September 2023 special issue of the IsisCB, Bibliographic Essays on the History of Pandemics. these essays cover more than disease narratology but many of them do discuss it, and they are intended to serve as guidelines / commentary on their accompanying bibliographies, so they can be really helpful in getting further reading recs or an introduction to any of these sub-topics. also, this entire special issue was published open access (CC-BY license), so you don't have to screw around with bypassing paywalls paying for these essays.

[beguines]

Land is central to all settler-colonial formations, most centrally the ownership, domination, and management of it and its resources. Colonialism has been inextricably linked with eco-imaginaries and practices of cultivation—"of lands as well as that of bodies and minds through the imposition of a dominant (colonial, neo-colonial, modernist, and now neoliberal) form of culture, one that was, and continues to be, deemed to be superior, more rational and enlightened, [and] of higher value." Pushing the land to its full productive capacity is part and parcel of settler-colonial thinking. As outlined by post-colonial scholar Upamanyu Pablo Mukherjee, we ought therefore to understand "colonialisms and imperialisms, old and new, as a state of permanent war on the global environment." This too is a key element of the unsustainability and instability of settler-colonialism as it relies in its essence on an insecure and obsessive imperative to optimize the productive capacities of land—all of which is predicated on the elimination of indigenous capacities. The long history of Western environmental imaginary views new lands as discrete and sharply delineated geographical and biological spaces, carrying with it medical and racial implications. An "environmental imaginary" thus refers to a set of perspectives, ideas and identities that individuals and societies develop about a given landscape/space, which often involves a political narrative both about that environment and its inhabitants, including the processes through which how it was produced. Similar to the "Orientalist" discourse described by Edward Said—a discourse aimed not merely at understanding, but also at producing and projecting an identity upon regions in opposition to a superior European self and building up bodies of knowledge and "expertise" designed to study, discipline, and control it—Western environmental imaginaries involve the classification of colonized regions.

"Much of the early Western representation of the Middle East and North Africa environment, in fact, might be interpreted as a form of environmental orientalism in that the environment was narrated by those who became the imperial powers, primarily Britain and France, as a 'strange and defective' environment compared to Europe's 'normal and productive' environment. The consequent need to 'improve,' 'restore,' 'normalize,' or 'repair' the environment provided powerful justifications for innumerable imperial projects, from building irrigation systems to reforestation activities to the bombing of 'unruly' tribes to the sedentarization of nomads as a measure to prevent 'overgrazing.'"

Constructed regions, whether as tropical, temperate, or wild, were framed in imperial and environmental terms and deployed as an objective descriptor of singularized geographical spaces. As discrete and sharply delineated geographical, ecological, medical, and racial spaces, these regions were instrumentalized and hierarchized to reproduce relations of domination and control over indigenous communities through the production of a Western environmental imaginary. While viewing colonized regions richly endowed by nature, this imagination also professed an inability on the part of its local inhabitants to bring its potential development to fruition—a hindrance that became more concerning for Western thinkers of this tradition as indigenous populations seemed to resist all attempts by Europeans and North Americans at domination, settlement, and control over their lands and waters.

Shourideh C. Molavi, Environmental Warfare in Gaza: Colonial Violence and New Landscapes of Resistance

[artbyblastweave]

An aesthetic decision I really like about the Mad Max setting- focusing on Fury Road in particular here- is that the timeline and the setting deliberately defy coherence. Countless elements of our world have carried over- the guns, the vehicles, the musical instruments, the religious concepts, and nominally some of the actual people- but the world is geographically impossible, you don't see much contemporary architecture even in a ruined state, and there's no version of the timeline where this can be the same Max Rockatansky as the original films. But it is. The incongruities are deliberate. The setting is mythic, these are campfire tales told about Max, the King Arthur or the Omnipresent Jack figure of the new age. The world that was is swallowed in myth, the world that exists is borrowing some of the old world toys, and being up-front and bombastic with signifiers of the mythic and abstracted nature of the setting absolves you of the need to make the worldbuilding make sense- or rather, to make it make sense in the way you'd have to take a stab at if you had a year-by-year internal worldbuilding timeline of How Everything Went Down.

Fallout 1 is not exactly like this. It can't be, because you could kill a man with an overhead swing of the setting bible. But it's tapping into a similar impulse. People in the first game are using old world tech, but they don't really live in the old world; they live in settlements using materials scavenged from the old world, or in old world towns that were unimportant enough back then that their current identity totally overwrites whatever came before. They don't live in LA: They live in the Boneyard, which gives you a pretty good idea of how much of what we think of as "LA" would be recognizable as such if we were exploring the space in first-person perspective. When you encounter an area that has a direct, well-documented, and unambiguous connection to the old world, it's a Big Deal, and they're hard places to get to- places that the average person living their life in the wastes would die trying to access. Of particular note in this dynamic is The Brotherhood of Steel- for all their technical understanding of the knowledge they hoard, they've clearly seems to have undergone a few rounds of Canticle-style cultural telephone, mutating from Recognizably The American Military into a knightly order. Fallout 2 does this to a lesser extent- it has more settlements directly named after their pre-war counterparts- but it's also a game about a society that's starting to pull back together and form into something resembling the old world, for better or for worse. And it reproduces the trend of stuff with a direct, legible connection to the old world being inscrutable and dangerous to outsiders- specifically with the reveal that the Enclave consider themselves to be the direct continuation of the pre-war government, that they've just kept electing presidents out on that stupid little oil rig. I haven't really made up my mind on whether the timeframes of the games- 84 years followed by 164 years- actually work for the vibe they're going for, in particular it doesn't work with Arroyo- but on the whole, the vibe coheres.

You get into the 3d games, and it becomes much harder to continue to pull this off. One major tool that Fallouts 1 and 2 used to maintain that sense of abstraction was the overland travel map; you were visiting island of society in a vast sea of Nothing. You had encounter cells that consisted of burnt-out, looted shells of cities, maybe good for a camp site but not as anything else. Another important tool towards this end was the isometric camera angle. In a topdown worldspace you can scrub out a lot of environmental details that would be immediately recognizable to the player as artifacts of our present society if you were exploring the space in 1st person. The examine button can feed you vague, uncertain descriptions that convey enough detail to make the item recognizable while also conveying that there's been a level of information decay. Once you move into a 3d worldspace you lose both of these elements- the worldspace is what it is, I can walk across it in eleven minutes stripping it for loot as I go. I can read every sign on every still-standing building, and I've got eyeballs on every old-world bit-and-bobble with a handy interface description of what I'm looking at. And you hit random encounters in the 3d games at basically the same rate, in real-world time, that you did in the isometrics- but the isometrics could successfully abstract it out to represent that you were hitting something noteworthy every couple of weeks, while in the 3d games it's kinda inescapable that you keep getting jumped every single day walking back and forth up the same stretch of road. Not only is it recognizable, it's cramped.

I think that Fallout 3, to its credit, did a decent job of navigating this and trying to maintain the islands-in-a-sea-of-nothing vibe from the isometrics- most of the settlements are built slapdash in places that were obviously never intended for long-term human habitation (bomb craters, overpasses, suburbs), the landmark-heavy city proper is textually a difficult-to-navigate deathtrap, and the poison-sky green filter, memeworthy as it is, does help shore up the impression that you're inviting death by trying to move through the space. Fallout: New Vegas I think addresses this by going in the total opposite direction; It's set in an area of the country where the infrastructure was abnormally well preserved, and the pre-war culture was revived artificially, and from a thematic standpoint it's really interested in digging into the implications of those two things. The fact that the lonely-empty-decontextualized-void aesthetic isn't long for this world dovetails well with the cowboy themes. They have a fair number of future-imperfect context-collapse gags but they don't overdo it by any stretch of the imagination.

Fallout 4, from many directions, is sort of catching the worst of the heat here. The world is recognizable, aggressively so. In fairly-authentically recreating the suburban sprawl of the Northeast, Bethesda simply surrounded the inhabitants of the commonwealth with too much Boston for a sense of true distance from our world to be possible. Everyone still has the accents. They still know the names of all the old neighborhoods. They're still doing the "Park your car" bit. It's still Boston. And it's a busy Boston, too- you can't throw a rock without hitting a farming settlement that's doing well enough to attract tribute-seeking bandits. It's densely packed with points of interest, and those points of interest are packed to the brim with salvageable materials that, going off of the new crafting system, should be in enormous demand to the people who've been living in this area for 210 years. The game doesn't really advance a satisfying explanation, even an aesthetic explanation like fallout 3's poison sky, for why everything around you hasn't been stripped clean before you even came off the ice, why all these environmental storytelling tableaus are just waiting for you to find. It doesn't spend nearly enough time hammering out what the 200-year chronology of the most-livable area seen in a Fallout game looks like- Why don't you see something comparable to the NCR emerging? Something something CPG massacre (which is mentioned twice in the whole game, AFAICT.) And what's being lost here, right, is the ability to use the sands of time to smooth over rough spots in the worldbuilding, in the chronology. You can't hide behind the idea that the world you're experiencing is mythologized. It's presented as real, and it doesn't make much sense if it's real!

And to top it off- Fallout 4 probably has the highest density of characters who were actually there, by some means or another. The Vault Tec rep, Daisy, The Triggermen, Nick Valentine, Eddie Winter, the vault 118 inhabitants, Arlen Glass, Oswald, Kent Connolly, The whole of Cabot House, Captain Zao, The kid in the goddamn fridge and his goddamn parents, and uh. The big one. You. You, the player. Which is such a goddamn splinter under my skin, from a storytelling perspective. You were present in the before-times- but only nominally, only to the exact degree necessary to establish that that was the case. The ugly shit is alluded to, but not incorporated into the character's day-to-day in a way that's obvious to the player, you're there for like six minutes and it's pretty nifty if you overlook that bit at the end where everyone got nuked. Your ability to talk about the world before is always vague, vacuous, superficial. The dirty laundry you dig up on terminals around Boston never seems to meaningfully impact your character's worldview, their impressions of the then and the now. All of which combine to make this the simultaneously the most specific but also the most frustratingly vague game in the series. At its best, Fallout's love of juxtaposing the then and the now would make it a great setting for the Rip Van Winkle routine. But it requires a strong, strong understanding of what the world was like before and after, a willingness to use the protagonist to constantly grind the jagged edges of those things against each other, a protagonist with a better-defined outlook than Bethesda's open-ended-past approach allowed for- and it has to be in service of a greater point. And for Fallout 4 to do anything with any of that, the game would have to be about something instead of being something for you to do. Maddening. Maddening.

[metamatar]

@anneemay just filched these references from the south asian guest workers article im reading, since you were interested in the middle east labor economies

Fred Arnold and Nasra M. Shah, “Asian Labor Migration to the Middle East,” International Migration Review 18 (1984): 294–318;

Urmil Minocha, “South Asian Immigrants: Trends and Impacts on the Sending and Receiving Societies,” in Pacific Bridges: The New Immigration from Asia and the Pacific Islands, edited by James T. Fawcett (New York: John Wiley, 1987), 347–73;

Frank Eelens and J. D. Speckman, “Recruitment of Labor Migrants to the Middle East: The Sri Lankan Case,” International Migration Review 24, no. 2 (Summer 1990): 297–322;

Kale, Fragments of Empire; Dovelyn Rannveig Agunias, “From a Zero-Sum to a Win-Win Scenario? Literature Review on Circular Migration” (Washington, D.C.: Migration Policy Institute, Program on Migrants, Migration, and Development, September 2006);

Andrew Gardner, City of Strangers: Gulf Migration and the Indian Community in Bahrain (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 2010);

Jane Bristol-Rhys, “Socio-spatial Boundaries in Abu Dhabi,” in Migrant Labor in the Persian Gulf, ed. Mehran Kamrava (New York: Columbia University Press, 2012), 59–84;

Michelle Buckley, “On the Work of Urbanization: Migration, Con­struction Labor, and the Commodity Moment,” Annals of the Association of American Geographers 104, no. 2 (2014):

J. S. Birks and C. A. Sinclair, “The International Migration Project: An Enquiry into the Middle East Labor Market,” International Migration Review 13, no. 1 (1997): 122–35; Minocha, “South Asian Immigrants.”

Arnold and Shah, “Asian Labor Migration to the Middle East.”

[detroitography]

Map: Detroit Metropolitan Area 1962

This map in the American Geographical Society Library Digital Map Collection at University of Wisconsin Milwaukee was created by the City of Detroit Department of Report and Information Committee. It’s always interesting to see maps that note the planned expressways. Beyond the city limits the expressways get very curvy and ephemeral. The route that we would recognize today as the Lodge Freeway…

[arkipelagic]

Rizal province man carrying children in baskets, Philippines, 1932. Photographed by Robert Larimore Pendleton. Text by John Tewell. Image found in the American Geographical Society Library, University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee.

[fatehbaz]

Just in case, some might enjoy. Had to organize some notes.

These are just some of the newer texts that had been promoted in the past few years at the online home of the American Association of Geographers. At: [aag dot org/new-books-for-geographers/]

Tried to narrow down selections to focus on Indigenous, Black, anticolonial, Latin American, oceanic/archipelagic geographies; imaginaries and environmental perception; mobility, borders, carceral/abolition geography; literary and musical ecologies.

---

New stuff, early 2024:

A Caribbean Poetics of Spirit (Hannah Regis, University of the West Indies Press, 2024)

Constructing Worlds Otherwise: Societies in Movement and Anticolonial Paths in Latin America (Raúl Zibechi and translator George Ygarza Quispe, AK Press, 2024)

Fluid Geographies: Water, Science, and Settler Colonialism in New Mexico (K. Maria D. Lane, University of Chicago Press, 2024)

Hydrofeminist Thinking With Oceans: Political and Scholarly Possibilities (Tarara Shefer, Vivienne Bozalek, and Nike Romano, Routledge, 2024)

Making the Literary-Geographical World of Sherlock Holmes: The Game Is Afoot (David McLaughlin, University of Chicago Press, 2025)

Mapping Middle-earth: Environmental and Political Narratives in J. R. R. Tolkien’s Cartographies (Anahit Behrooz, Bloomsbury Publishing, 2024)

Midlife Geographies: Changing Lifecourses across Generations, Spaces and Time (Aija Lulle, Bristol University Press, 2024)

Society Despite the State: Reimagining Geographies of Order (Anthony Ince and Geronimo Barrera de la Torre, Pluto Press, 2024)

---

New stuff, 2023:

The Black Geographic: Praxis, Resistance, Futurity (Camilla Hawthorne and Jovan Scott Lewis, Duke University Press, 2023)

Activist Feminist Geographies (Edited by Kate Boyer, Latoya Eaves and Jennifer Fluri, Bristol University Press, 2023)

The Silences of Dispossession: Agrarian Change and Indigenous Politics in Argentina (Mercedes Biocca, Pluto Press, 2023)

The Sovereign Trickster: Death and Laughter in the Age of Dueterte (Vicente L. Rafael, Duke University Press, 2022)

Ottoman Passports: Security and Geographic Mobility, 1876-1908 (İlkay Yılmaz, Syracuse University Press, 2023)

The Practice of Collective Escape (Helen Traill, Bristol University Press, 2023)

Maps of Sorrow: Migration and Music in the Construction of Precolonial AfroAsia (Sumangala Damodaran and Ari Sitas, Columbia University Press, 2023)

---

New stuff, late 2022:

B.H. Roberts, Moral Geography, and the Making of a Modern Racist (Clyde R. Forsberg, Jr.and Phillip Gordon Mackintosh, Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 2022)

Environing Empire: Nature, Infrastructure and the Making of German Southwest Africa (Martin Kalb, Berghahn Books, 2022)

Sentient Ecologies: Xenophobic Imaginaries of Landscape (Edited by Alexandra Coțofană and Hikmet Kuran, Berghahn Books 2022)

Colonial Geography: Race and Space in German East Africa, 1884–1905 (Matthew Unangst, University of Toronto Press, 2022)

The Geographies of African American Short Fiction (Kenton Rambsy, University of Mississippi Press, 2022)

Knowing Manchuria: Environments, the Senses, and Natural Knowledge on an Asian Borderland (Ruth Rogaski, University of Chicago Press, 2022)

Punishing Places: The Geography of Mass Imprisonment (Jessica T. Simes, University of California Press, 2021)

---

New stuff, early 2022:

Belly of the Beast: The Politics of Anti-fatness as Anti-Blackness (Da’Shaun Harrison, 2021)

Coercive Geographies: Historicizing Mobility, Labor and Confinement (Edited by Johan Heinsen, Martin Bak Jørgensen, and Martin Ottovay Jørgensen, Haymarket Books, 2021)

Confederate Exodus: Social and Environmental Forces in the Migration of U.S. Southerners to Brazil (Alan Marcus, University of Nebraska Press, 2021)

Decolonial Feminisms, Power and Place (Palgrave, 2021)

Krakow: An Ecobiography (Edited by Adam Izdebski & Rafał Szmytka, University of Pittsburgh Press, 2021)

Open Hand, Closed Fist: Practices of Undocumented Organizing in a Hostile State (Kathryn Abrams, University of California Press, 2022)

Unsettling Utopia: The Making and Unmaking of French India (Jessica Namakkal, 2021)

---

New stuff, 2020 and 2021:

Mapping the Amazon: Literary Geography after the Rubber Boom (Amanda Smith, Liverpool University Press, 2021)

Geopolitics, Culture, and the Scientific Imaginary in Latin America (Edited by María del Pilar Blanco and Joanna Page, 2020)

Reconstructing public housing: Liverpool’s hidden history of collective alternatives (Matt Thompson, University of Liverpool Press, 2020)

The (Un)governable City: Productive Failure in the Making of Colonial Delhi, 1858–1911 (Raghav Kishore, 2020)

Multispecies Households in the Saian Mountains: Ecology at the Russia-Mongolia Border (Edited by Alex Oehler and Anna Varfolomeeva, 2020)

Urban Mountain Beings: History, Indigeneity, and Geographies of Time in Quito, Ecuador (Kathleen S. Fine-Dare, 2019)

City of Refuge: Slavery and Petit Marronage in the Great Dismal Swamp, 1763-1856 (Marcus P. Nevius, University of Georgia Press, 2020)

[historicalbookimages]

🐋 The larger North American mammals. Washington, National Geographic Society, 1916.

[capricorn-0mnikorn]

Hey, Birblr! Heads up!

Quote:

The move comes as part of a broader effort to diversify birding and make it more welcoming to people of all races and backgrounds.

"We've come to understand that there are certain names that have offensive or derogatory connotations that cause pain to people, and that it is important to change those, to remove those as barriers to their participation in the world of birds," she says.

The project will begin next year and initially focus on 70 to 80 bird species that occur primarily in the United States and Canada. That's about 6 or 7 percent of the total species in this geographic region.

The society has promised to engage the public, and says that birds' scientific names won't be changed as part of this initiative.