Writing in the new issue of the International Journal of African Historical Studies, Alex Borucki says Cotton and Race across the Atlantic is “commodity studies at its best,” with “solid foundations built by different theoretical approaches on how to examine a different set of sources in different contexts of production and exchange in Europe, Africa, and North America. And the book is a pleasure to read for non-economic historians, like myself,interested in the large legacy of slave trading and slavery in the Atlantic World.”
In a new review forthcoming in the Journal of British Studies, Steven Toms says Cotton and Race across the Atlantic is “an absorbing interplay of economics and politics straddling three continents at the height of the age of imperialism,” and “a valuable contribution to the history of cotton, not just of the commodity, but also of the social relations surrounding its cultivation and production.”
This experiment in research blogging has slowed down quite a bit, in part because I haven’t been able to do much new research. Getting back into a research routine after a summer spent on other projects is taking time.
Today’s accidental find is the USDA’s Inventory of Seeds and Plants Imported, a register of specimens sent to the USDA by scientists, farmers, officials, and travelers all over the world. The Inventory records a surprising number of oil palm seeds (African and American). The image above comes from a 1916 issue, and tries to explain why the USDA is interested in various oil-bearing tree crops that had no commercial future in the US. (Oil palms can grow in Florida, but even in 1916 the economics were clearly not favorable.)
I haven’t identified the chemist quoted, but it’s a great example of the optimism scientists felt about vegetable fats as food, fuel, plastics, and a host of other materials in the early 20th century.
I admit to having read articles and books for the sole purpose of looking at their bibliography. It’s easy to borrow a few citations from those who have done similar work before, especially if you need to fill out a section of background information. Problems arise when we don’t actually read the sources, however.
Here’s another story from the Cornell University Archives. Faculty at the NY State College of Home Economics worked closely with the federal Food Administration to develop and manage food rationing during the First World War.
Home Economists taught people how to use underutilized foods, but in calling on citizens to “do their fair share” in rationing, they inadvertently turned America’s housewives into an army of informants. Mrs Devereux, of New York City, complained that her neighbors were too fat and didn’t deserve ration cards: “The over-heavy fed person (and he is numerous) could be sharply reduced in quantity and compelled to live on his own flesh, until he is in a normal condition.”
Another woman, writing from Florida, alleged that German agents were under orders “to buy and eat and hoard all the wheat they possibly can.” The letters offer a worrying vision of self-radicalization. Women (and a few men) suggested all sorts of inventive ways to spy on, shame, cajole, and punish their neighbors for not rationing food effectively. Letters started to arrive within a few weeks of the declaration of war in April 1917.
(box 17, folder 41, NY State College of Home Economics records, Cornell University Archive)
Cornell’s archive holds notes from the Herrington Food Science lectures, c. 1951-1961, which were part of a basic course in the history of nutrition for undergraduates.
The professor quoted an obscure treatise on egg incubation by William Bucknell for its description of food in Europe. Up to a third of Englishmen, according to Bucknell, “subsist almost entirely, or rather starve, upon potatoes alone, another third have in addition to this edible, oaten or inferior wheaten bread with one or two meals of fat pork or the refuse of the shambles per week …”
Bucknell said continental Europeans ate far worse fare: “Fish, soups made from herbs, a stuff called bread, made from every variety of grain, black, brown and sour such as no Englishman would eat; olives, chestnuts, the pulpy saccharine fruits, roots, stalks and leaves, not infrequently the barks of trees, sawdust, blubber, train oil with frogs and snails, make up a good part of the food of the greater portion of the population of Europe.”
Not bad! (Except for the tree bark, sawdust, blubber, and train oil)
Last summer I was fortunate enough to spend six weeks at Cornell University, exploring their huge collection of material on the history of home economics. I am finishing an article on colonial and post-colonial food policy in Ghana, and remembered one of the reasons I applied to work at Cornell: a 1960s project to start American-style Home Ec courses in Ghana.
The project (which I’ll write about in more detail later) fell victim to Cold War politics, as Kwame Nkrumah’s regime became increasingly radical and was eventually overthrown in 1966. In 1965, a Mrs. Hector wrote to Cornell’s Home Economics faculty to complain about their work in Ghana. Mrs. Hector accused Nkrumah of “waging his on-again, off again campaign of hatred” against the US. His goal is “to eradicate Western influence and promote the revolutionary rise of Marxist regimes in Africa.” Her source of information? “All of the above came from the Readers Digest article.”
Mrs. Hector called her local reference librarian for more information: “She then gave me the conservative estimate of communist influence in Ghana. In 1958 it was between 80 – 100%. In late 1964 it was between 90 – 100%. For all we know, it could be 99.9% today. This influence is transmitted via labor unions, government officials, political parties, propaganda, direct, visible and undercover agents, all working together.”
The Cornell archives contain a stack of letters from Mrs Hector and other women, many of them Cornell graduates, who had been asked to raise funds for training Ghanaian teachers. “This is a lot of support for a system we Americans abhor,” complained Mrs. Hector. She urges a recall of faculty from Ghana, “with full apologies to those Ghanians [sic] friendly to us.”
This was a typical Cold War-era reaction to uncomfortable news from abroad. Other New York women took a more strategic view, however: Mrs. Wood told her county Home Economics organization, “if we withdraw, the vacuum we leave will be filled by others.” [ie communists] To their credit, the Cornell faculty kept working in Ghana until 1967, when the project term expired.
The Home Economics department at the University of Education, Winneba, is still operating today.