Virtual Library

Frantz Fanon's psychiatric career was crucial to his thinking as an anti-colonialist writer and activist. Much of his iconic work was shaped by his experiences working in hospitals in France, Algeria and Tunisia. The writing collected here was written from 1951 to 1960 in tandem with his political work and reveals much about how Fanon's thought developed, showing that, for him, psychiatry was part of a much wider socio-political struggle. His political, revolutionary and literary lives should not then be separated from the psychiatric practice and writings that shaped his thinking about oppression, alienation and the search for freedom.

In Re-visualizing Slavery, historians, heritage specialists, and cultural scientists shed new light on the history of slavery in Asia by centering visual sources—specifically, Dutch paintings, watercolors and drawings from the seventeenth through nineteenth centuries. The traditional image of slavery in Asia is shaped and dominated by terms such as ‘mild,’ ‘debt,’ and ‘household,’ but new historical research that utilizes the versatility, power of expression, and silences of and within visual sources explicitly points to it as violent and harsh in character—comparable to the Atlantic history of slavery.

The history of Algerian Jews has thus far been viewed from the perspective of communities on the northern coast, who became, to some extent, beneficiaries of colonialism. But to the south, in the Sahara, Jews faced a harsher colonial treatment. In Saharan Jews and the Fate of French Algeria, Sarah Abrevaya Stein asks why the Jews of Algeria's south were marginalized by French authorities, how they negotiated the sometimes brutal results, and what the reverberations have been in the postcolonial era.

Drawing on materials from thirty archives across six countries, Stein tells the story of colonial imposition on a desert community that had lived and traveled in the Sahara for centuries. She paints an intriguing historical picture--of an ancient community, trans-Saharan commerce, desert labor camps during World War II, anthropologist spies, battles over oil, and the struggle for Algerian sovereignty. Writing colonialism and decolonization into Jewish history and Jews into the French Saharan one, Saharan Jews and the Fate of French Algeria is a fascinating exploration not of Jewish exceptionalism but of colonial power and its religious and cultural differentiations, which have indelibly shaped the modern world.

More than forty years ago a women’s liberation movement called ūman ribu was born in Japan amid conditions of radicalism, violence, and imperialist aggression. Setsu Shigematsu’s book is the first to present a sustained history of ūman ribu’s formation, its political philosophy, and its contributions to feminist politics across and beyond Japan. Through an in-depth analysis of ūman ribu, Shigematsu furthers our understanding of Japan’s gender-based modernity and imperialism and expands our perspective on transnational liberation and feminist movements worldwide.

In Scream from the Shadows, Shigematsu engages with political philosophy while also contextualizing the movement in relation to the Japanese left and New Left as well as the anti–Vietnam War and radical student movements. She examines the controversial figure Tanaka Mitsu, ūman ribu’s most influential activist, and the movement’s internal dynamics. Shigematsu highlights ūman ribu’s distinctive approach to the relationship of women—and women’s liberation—to violence: specifically, the movement’s embrace of violent women who were often at the margins of society and its recognition of women’s complicity in violence against other women.

Scream from the Shadows provides a powerful case study of a complex and contradictory movement with a radical vision of women’s liberation. It offers a unique opportunity to reflect on the blind spots within our contemporary and dominant views of feminism across their liberal, marxist, radical, Euro-American, postcolonial, and racial boundaries.

Japanese colonial rule in Korea (1905–1945) ushered in natural resource management programs that profoundly altered access to and ownership of the peninsula’s extensive mountains and forests. Under the banner of “forest love,” the colonial government set out to restructure the rhythms and routines of agrarian life, targeting everything from home heating to food preparation. Timber industrialists, meanwhile, channeled Korea’s forest resources into supply chains that grew in tandem with Japan’s imperial sphere. These mechanisms of resource control were only fortified after 1937, when the peninsula and its forests were mobilized for total war.

In this wide-ranging study David Fedman explores Japanese imperialism through the lens of forest conservation in colonial Korea—a project of environmental rule that outlived the empire itself. Holding up for scrutiny the notion of conservation, Seeds of Control examines the roots of Japanese ideas about the Korean landscape, as well as the consequences and aftermath of Japanese approaches to Korea’s “greenification.” Drawing from sources in Japanese and Korean, Fedman writes colonized lands into Japanese environmental history, revealing a largely untold story of green imperialism in Asia.

Paris, 17 octobre 1961. La fin de la guerre d'Algérie est proche. En réponse au couvre-feu imposé aux Algériens par Maurice Papon, alors préfet de police, le FLN organise à Paris une manifestation pacifi que. La police charge : violences, arrestations massives, matraquages, meurtres, Algériens jetés dans la Seine. Nanterre, 1996. Amel a seize ans. Elle entend parfois sa mère et sa grand-mère discuter de choses graves dans une langue, l'arabe, qu'elle comprend mal. Quand elle pose des questions, les femmes se dérobent. Avec Omer, journaliste algérien réfugié, et grâce au film documentaire de Louis, fils d'une Française ayant adopté la cause algérienne, elle cherche à comprendre. Roman polyphonique dense, essentiel, poignant, La Seine était rouge lève le voile de l'oubli sur l'une des pages les plus douloureuses de l'histoire de la France contemporaine. Née à Aflou, en Algérie, d'un père algérien et d'une mère française, Leïla Sebbar vit aujourd'hui à Paris. Romancière et nouvelliste, elle est l'auteur d'un grand nombre de livres parmi lesquels la trilogie de Shérazade (Stock), Je ne parle pas la langue de mon père (Julliard), Les Femmes au bain (Bleu autour), Le Peintre et son modèle (Al Manar-Alain Gorius), Le Ravin de la femme sauvage (Thierry Magnier), Mon cher fils (Elyzad).

Leïla Sebbar's novel recounts an event in French history that has been hidden for many years. Toward the end of the Algerian war, the FLN, an Algerian nationalist party, organized a demonstration in Paris to oppose a curfew imposed upon Algerians in France. About 30,000 Algerians gathered peacefully, but the protest was brutally suppressed by the Paris police. Between 50 and 200 Algerians were killed and their bodies were thrown into the Seine. This incident provides the background for a more intimate look into the history of violence between France and Algeria. Following three young protagonists--one French, one Algerian, and one French national of Algerian descent--Sebbar takes readers on a journey of discovery and comprehension. Mildred Mortimer's impressive translation conveys the power of Sebbar's words in English and allows English-speaking readers an opportunity to understand the complex relationship between past and present, metropole and colony, immigrant and citizen, that lies at the heart of this acclaimed novel.

Brahim, enfant, a perdu son sourire : à peine arrivé de sa Kabylie natale, ensanglantée par la guerre, il a vu tomber au quartier Latin l'un de ses frères, lors de la manifestation du 17 octobre 1961. En grandissant, il prend conscience, avec ses copains de la cité-béton, des dures réalités de l'émigration. "Dans la France des années 60-80, l'itinéraire d'un adolescent d'origine maghrébine en quête d'une identité partagée entre deux cultures, comme deux plaies jamais refermées." - Electre Un article de Maria Petrescu : "Conflit et intégration dans Le Sourire de Brahim de Nacer Kettane et Kiffe Kiffe demain de Faïza Guène" est lié à cette notice.

First published in 1958, Things Fall Apart is the first of three novels in Chinua Achebe's critically acclaimed African Trilogy. It is a classic narrative about Africa's cataclysmic encounter with Europe as it establishes a colonial presence on the continent. Told through the fictional experiences of Okonkwo, a wealthy and fearless Igbo warrior of Umuofia in the late 1800s, Things Fall Apart explores one man's futile resistance to the devaluing of his Igbo traditions by British political andreligious forces and his despair as his community capitulates to the powerful new order.

Charting the intersection of technology and ideology, cultural production and social science, Fatimah Tobing Rony explores early-twentieth-century representations of non-Western indigenous peoples in films ranging from the documentary to the spectacular to the scientific. Turning the gaze of the ethnographic camera back onto itself, bringing the perspective of a third eye to bear on the invention of the primitive other, Rony reveals the collaboration of anthropology and popular culture in Western constructions of race, gender, nation, and empire. Her work demonstrates the significance of these constructions—and, more generally, of ethnographic cinema—for understanding issues of identity.

In this essay, Mohanty argues that Western feminist scholarship has reduced all women of the third world into a single, collective other. She critiques the approach to feminism and third-world women, arguing for more nuanced scholarship from Western scholars.