Black Rice

Black Rice, by Judith A. Carney, embarks on a journey to restore the crucial historical role West Africans played in the development of American rice cultivation. Carney refutes the myths that Europeans introduced rice to Africa and then transmitted rice growing techniques to the Americas. In her attempt to place West Africans in their proper historical role, Carney succeeds in restoring their agency. The West Africans in Carney’s narrative are dynamic groups from various cultural and ethnic backgrounds. Their experience with rice cultivation was well established prior to European contact. Their knowledge, technologies, and techniques became essential to the adaptation of the Carolina landscape for intensive rice cultivation.  Carney asks readers to modify their understanding of the Columbian Exchange by placing importance on the transference of the systems of knowledge surrounding rice production, rather than on the cereal itself.

Carney’s work focuses almost exclusively on the production of rice, and, while she does pay some attention to global demand, largely ignores rice consumption. This is one area I wish she would have expanded on, but I understand that consumption was not the focus of her work. She follows more of a commodity chain approach, and, in that regard, I would align her more to Mintz out of the books we have read so far. However, she leaves the chain unfinished, with marketing and consumption absent.

Carney believes that West Africans are the primary agents of change throughout this work. The changes being wrought are: the ascendance of rice to its place as a global dietary staple and the adaptation of West African techniques to new geographic locales as the result of the Atlantic slave trade. While this book is about change, I also believe it is a book about persistence. Much of West African rice growing culture – from tools and techniques to gender specialized labor tasks – are transmitted wholesale to the Americas with little to no change.

Although Carney’s purpose is to restore West African agency and rice culture to its prominent place, she does not neglect the commodity itself. She provides an in depth analysis of the history of the cereal outside the confines of social relations. One of the startling realizations for me was that it seems highly probable that Africa possessed its own indigenous rice species (I had assumed it was transferred from Asia through some sort of contact with the Arab world), possibly dating as far back as antiquity.

Judith A. Carney’s Black Rice succeeds in its mission to refute the racist interpretations of African contributions to the Americas. For me, her work fits my current definition of commodity history by placing rice as a commodity within its appropriate social history.

True History of Chocolate?

Sophie and Michael Coe produced an extensive overview of the development of chocolate in The True History of Chocolate, from the very beginnings of its known cultivation through the production of the recognizable modern form of solid chocolate. One of the elements that I thought they were pushing was the primary role of the Olmec and Maya civilizations in the development of chocolate cultivation and culture in the pre-Colonial period. The authors are attempting to restore the stolen agency of the two civilizations, often denied their role in the development and proliferation of chocolate by a distorted emphasis on the Aztecs. This seems to be the primary argument – while Europeans transformed chocolate from its original meanings, it was the Maya and their predecessors who originally cultivated chocolate, who introduced chocolate to Europeans, and who continue to provide a significant part of the world’s chocolate production. A secondary narrative thread is the alienation of chocolate’s usage from its traditional meaning, taste, and finally even its form to become a simple object of pleasure to be indulged by many. This is really the first time that we’ve seen such a collapse in the cultural significance of a product; while sugar was valued, it was not a ritual object that carried both spiritual and temporal power, and that also was used as a medium of exchange. This book raises a question for the class: can something be both Commodity and Currency at the same time?

It is unfortunate that the images used in this book do not work with it to the same standard we observed last week. They generally function merely as illustrations. I do agree with my classmates that the book falls short in several elements. Most obvious is the judgments that the authors are placing on various people and groups in their discussion. While there is a place for judgments of this nature, they seem quite out of place within this text specifically. The only reason they might fit is as part of the transfer of agency towards Mezoamerican civilizations in the development of chocolate, but even that does not excuse the obvious and unnecessary diversions from the subject of chocolate to provide social commentary on various people and cultures – especially when that commentary is not particularly backed up by relevant evidence.

One other thing that irritated me about this text is that the author(s?) repeatedly commented that something would be “discussed later” or that the reader would otherwise see more on a subject later. Does he not trust that the reader will read the complete book? It’s obviously a simple writing habit, the authorial equivalent of a verbal tick, but it is totally unnecessary in conveying the point of the text.

The True History of Chocolate

Sophie and Michael Coe's True History of Chocolate almost seems like a love letter to the history of chocolate. In contrast with the other books we have read so far this semester, it focuses much more on the life of the commodity - chocolate - itself, rather than on the lives of the people that it impacts. In that sense, it is the story of chocolate, rather than the impact of chocolate, or spices, or other commodities. My initial reaction is that this book seems to fit more with our initial definition of commodity history, in that it places chocolate at the center of the narrative. I think that Ben mentioned in his post that the Coe's venture into the territory that Robbins warned of: making the commodity the hero of the story, but I also think that if you are going to call your book the True History of Chocolate, then it would by definition need to take center stage.

The Coes follow the history of chocolate from its earliest days in Mesoamerica through to modern times and the level of detail about the life cycle of this commodity is stunning. I found it interesting that the Aztecs used cacao beans as money, although the sheer numbers of beans needed (in the millions!) boggles the mind.

In terms of actors within the narrative, I find that this aspect of the tale about chocolate is lacking. While the Coes mention that chocolate was consumed at all levels of society, although in varying levels, there doesn't seem to be enough attention paid to different social classes and the impact of the chocolate on them, although that may be more because that doesn't seem to be the primary focus of the book.

True History of Chocolate and our Developing Definition of “Commodity History”

True History of Chocolate and our Developing Definition of “Commodity History”

While reading Sophie and Michael Coe’s True History of Chocolate, I continuously tried to keep in mind the ideas we have had as a class as to what the definition of “Commodity History” really is. We have talked about using the commodity as a lens to look at a broader historical element as opposed to looking at just the commodity first and foremost, and the effects it had on society become mostly secondary elements to the history. I felt the Coe’s history of chocolate was more the latter, and it has helped changed my idea of what commodity history is. I initially was in line with the idea of using the commodity as a lens to explore a historical development but after reading this book, I like the idea of using the commodity as the primary element of study. The detailed research into all pieces of chocolate was impressive, with the studies into everything from the physical environment where cocoa plants thrive, why they were initially harvested and used by South American tribes and the ever developing production process, shipping, economic and trade sales impact and consumption by a growing group of consumers were all fascinating and seemed mostly chocolate-centric and for a significant part of the time, culture was secondary to the chocolate itself. The sources used, and we talked a bit about this last week, such as the images and recipes also gave the research a grounded less hypothetical feel. However, as some also have stated in their blog posts, a lot of these sources, including the images, and recipes seem to be scattered or simply thrown onto the page instead of being developed and analyzed fully. However the academic historical field seemed not to be the primary audience, though I do think the book teeters back and forth between a popular history and an academic history. Overall the book definitely changed some of my thinking regarding the definition of what a commodity history is, though I’m not sure it has become any clearer to me, just more evolved.

Take the Good with the Bad

The True History of Chocolate is at once taking a step back and a step forward in terms of what a commodity history should be. I think it is very important for commodity histories to describe the physical commodities for us and I think the Coes did this. Similar to Mintz, the Coes go into the botany of chocolate plants, the conditions in which they grow, and some of the production process. Important for food history as well, they discuss the way in which chocolate is prepared/cooked. In this respect, I think the Coes did a better job then Schivelbusch. We never really learn anything that makes any commodities different in Schivelbusch because he neglects describing the commodities in the way that the Coes do. For instance, it is important to know that the forastero chocolate plant yield more chocolate per harvest, but it is of inferior quality in comparison to criollo chocolate plants. The physical limitations and qualities of commodities set limitations on the "history" of the commodity in my opinion. Understanding the physical characteristics and processes of growing chocolate shape the history of its use, but it is important not to think that chocolate's place in history was predetermined because of these physical characteristics as all the works so far have argued. I think it is important to balance the ways in which a commodity has "limited agency." 

I was happy the Coes discussed the commodity itself, but I was a little disappointed that they didn't make any concrete connections between the commodity's characteristics or production process and why it was adopted in Europe. Much of the book seemed to me about trying discover the origin or chocolate. This idea of "authenticity" and origins is important and interesting, but once the Coes prove to us that chocolate wasn't just a Mayan product, why is this important? If they find origins with the Aztecs and Mayans, how does this change the history of chocolate or change our understanding of its uses? Authenticity and origins are important in commodity histories, but only if the author answers the "so what?" question. I think most commodity histories take the "lens" approach to using commodities, which is very fruitful, but authors risk using a distorted or faulty lens if they don't understand the commodity in all ways. For instance, drinking chocolate cold or hot is a big difference between the way Europeans and Indians consumed it, and it shows that the Coes seem to think the cultural meaning of chocolate changed drastically in its importation to Europe. This fits in with the often held believe that little "culture" flowed from the Americas to the West. Other authors like Norton which we have read have argued that the cultural and social use of chocolate were transported to Europe thus arguing that the Indians culture shaped European culture in ways, and this is a powerful argument.

 I share Timothy's problems with some of the biases of the Coes. In many ways they are too quick to essentialize. They allude to the idea of Western European taste being "simplistic" in their sole desire for sweetness as opposed to the Indians in the Americas who had very "diverse" uses for chocolate. They say, "we should be convinced that the Aztecs rang many more changes on the chocolate theme than do we, who are so indissolubly tied to drinks that are sweet. The mere idea of chocolate without sugar seems incomprehensible."(95) This book's use of "we" illustrates it is for a Western audience that is seemingly uniformed that Indians were civilized in many ways, and the Coes are illustrating the complexity of chocolate in Mesoamerica to indirectly argue that civilization existed before Europe arrived to the Americas. In fact, in many ways civilizations were destroyed when Europe arrived. On the same side, they are a little simplistic in describing Indians as well. The Coes say, "Given such a powerful myth, the Aztecs were of necessity a nation of pessimists."(67) The comments littered throughout the book like this made me pause and made me question some of the other authoritative comments they make throughout.

Chocolate

Sophie and Michael Coe’s The True History of Chocolate is an interesting mix of ancient South American history and the introduction of cocoa and chocolate into European society, a combination that makes it a book tailored for our class. Overall, the narrative does a nice job of encompassing the aspects of taste, history, production, consumption, and social ramifications that we have discussed throughout our classes. For example the research of the etymology of the word chocolate was well supported and interesting and provided insight into how the Spanish conquerors and Aztec civilization interacted, and it then led nicely into the sections on how chocolate consumption changed upon reaching Europe. While the chapters entitled “Chocolate Conquers Europe” and “Chocolate for the Masses” do echo Robbins’ argument that the commodity has been given a “hero status,” I believe they are actually good labels for the sections because of the anecdotal style of writing used throughout the book. In those chapters, the authors show how the art of chocolate drinking and consumption spread from country to country, as well as the technological innovations that were developed (Van Houten and cocoa powder) to make it easier for everyone to consume the product. With this book, which is somewhat of a mix between popular historical writing and hardcore anthropology, I believe the Coes accomplished their goal of writing an interesting, informative, and very readable tale of chocolate and its rise to popularity and mass consumption while at the same time not glossing over the issues of colonialism, slavery and exploitation that are so much a part of the history of chocolate. However with all that said, I agree with Tim that some aspects of the book do not fit into our definition of a commodity history or satisfy the questions we have asked in class discussion. For starters, while I really enjoyed the discussion over the Aztecs and the debunking of their bad reputation, the section is overemphasized for a book that claims to focus on the history of chocolate. Instead of providing an in-depth analysis of the ancient society, I believe the parts that honed in on chocolate use by the elites and warrior classes would have sufficed.  Furthermore, more discussion on the economics of the slave trade and forced labor would have provided us with a way to compare this narrative with the arguments of Mintz and Shivelbusch about the development of capitalism, etc. Nonetheless, if the focus of these histories is to highlight the flow of commodities and their changes as they move through different societies and classes, I think this book does a wonderful job in that regard.  

The True History of Chocolate, by Sophie and Michael Coe, was a disappointment. I had expected an in-depth analysis of the political, economic, and social dynamics of cacao; instead, the Coes embark on a thinly veiled historical overview of Pre-Columbian cultures and civilizations with any insightful analysis of chocolate only arriving midway through their narrative.

In terms of the questions we are to ask this book:

1)      What do the authors view as commodity? The view the various products yielded from cacao pods (cacao beans, pulp, chocolate, etc.) as their commodities of study.

2)      What change(s) takes place? The authors identify several key changes in chocolate consumption: the first major change is the adoption of chocolate by the European elites (first, the Spanish and then other European nations). The second change was explained as the transformation of chocolate from an elitist product into a food for mass consumption by the general population. Another change identified by the authors is the modern reemergence of chocolate connoisseurship, which was found centuries prior in the patterns of chocolate consumption by aristocratic and ecclesiastical elites.

3)      What are the catalysts of change? The acceptance of chocolate by the Spanish was the result of a gradual process of acculturation, in which chocolate was introduced to Spanish kitchens by indigenous women and the development of a taste for chocolate by Spanish colonial women. In addition, before chocolate could be fully accepted by Spanish (and ultimately Western European) society, hybridization was necessary. Europeans adapted native Mesoamerican recipes for chocolate by adding sugar and by using Eurasian spices as substitutes for indigenous ingredients. This hybridization made chocolate palatable and more familiar to the Spanish elites. Chocolate transformed into a product of mass consumption primarily due to two dramatic changes in Western Europe: the French Revolution which spurred the end of the primacy of the Catholic Church and the Catholic aristocracy, and the Industrial Revolution, which made chocolate more available and cheaper.

While I felt the book accomplished what it set out to do, I was very disappointed by the way in which the Coes approached this work. Sophie and Michael Coe do not hide their utter disdain for the Western European elites of the 16^th to 18^th centuries. Their bias permeates their work at every turn, with several references to Philip II (calling him fanatical, bigoted, and unhappy) as well those historians they refer to as “Spanish apologists.” Cosimo de Medici, also earning a mention, is referred to as gluttonous and bigoted. They are extremely defensive of Pre-Columbian Mesoamerican societies, almost to the point of fanaticism. Even though I understand their perspective (the societies of Mesoamerica have long been given a raw deal in the historical record, being portrayed as blood-thirsty barbarians; also, the European figures that the authors target probably deserve such treatment), I expected a more professional and objective stance from a supposedly academic, well-researched, work.

Also, the sources cited within the text are not thoroughly analyzed to my satisfaction. I felt that the sources, not without some exception, served only to compliment the narrative created by the Coes, undergoing no deep, significant analysis.

In all, The True History of Chocolate provides some insight into our exploration of commodity history. However, it has what I believe to be very serious shortcomings, as I have stated above. At this point, I do not think I would include it in my revision of the course syllabus. 

Tastes of Paradise

There is a fascinating difference between the approach to new commodities and their adoption taken by Mintz in Sweetness and Power and that chosen by Schivelbusch in Tastes of Paradise. Schivelbusch’s focus is almost entirely on the changing forms of the consumption of commodities, not on their other properties (such as their means of production, the people who do that production, or the methods by which they are transported and distributed). Nevertheless, in spite of the fact that I think Schivelbusch never so much as uses the word commodities to describe his subjects, I must disagree with Jessica that it is not a commodity history. Much more than Mintz, Schivelbusch is concerned with his subjects (IE the commodities) and the specific rituals surrounding their use. His fundamental question is about how the products are ascribed value, and what values are ascribed to them. This means that he is questioning the social structure that produces commoditization. Admittedly, it is not in a particularly formal manner – Schivelbusch is writing in a very casual, essentially popular style.

I found interesting the focus Schivelbusch placed on the concept of the ‘acceleration’ inherent in modernity. After reading the sections discussing distilled beverages and cigarettes, I am somewhat surprised that his chapter on spices made no mention of phenomenon like the sale of premixed spice combinations, which are essentially marketed as a culinary short-cut to producing specific styles of cuisine (and are a huge marketing scam-they’re absurdly marked up compared to the costs of the individual components) which seems to me to be the same sort of acceleration.

As an aside, I think this book is the first one for which I personally would change the book order. Having already read Sacred Gifts, Profane Pleasures, I think that this book should immediately follow that book, as they essentially cover different aspects of the same subjects.

Tastes of Paradise

I think that Schivelbusch's Tastes of Paradise is not a commodity history. At the very base, it is clearly a social history, as indicated by his preface. He is more interested in the impact that a particular commodity has on people – Europeans – to be more specific. He also swings back and forth between social and economic history. So it’s not about the commodity itself, nor is it about the entire lifespan/path of that commodity.  For example, he mentions the route that spices take from Asia to Europe, but he is more interested in the face that the search for spices leads to European exploration. Once the spices have left Asia, he is not interested in Asians any more, nor is he interested in talking about the impact that the accelerated spice trade has on them.

His discussion of coffee is also more about the impact of coffee on the people of Europe (focusing mostly on England) and less on the coffee itself. His discussion on the public versus private sphere of coffee is an interesting one, but doesn’t really seem to add to what our class definition of commodities is.

I wonder actually, if our class definition may need to be altered to take this into account. So far, it seems like the books we’ve looked at so far haven’t really satisfied our definition of what a commodity history should be. 

Tastes of Paradise

Tastes of Paradise

Tastes of Paradise by Wolfgang Schivelbusch is great overview book about the history of spices and its cultural changes. Although this book is considered to be a history book, however it altered my views about history textbooks.  The author used simple yet effective language to introduce spices and stimulants such as salt, paper, coffee, chocolate, opium…etc. and their social development through time. In addition, he showed the importance of spices and how it was the turning point of discovering the new world.

Similarly to last class reading this book discusses trading of goods, social structure and economy, although each author introduces it differently.  Last week we were not able to decide whether or not to use Sweetness and Power as a source for the final project.  However I feel that Tastes of Paradise will not raise as much challenges and it can be relevant to use in one away or another. 

I looked over how we defined commodity in our first class and one of our definition was commodity is a product bough and sold.  If we take spices as the product, then we can agree that this book is about commodity, and if for some reason the class does not agree that spices were the main focus of the book then we need revisit our definition of commodity.