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Anecdotes about historical figures proliferated after the An Lushan Rebellion (755–763). The loss of official accounts during this devastating war afforded the post-rebellion generation an opportun...

Since his death in 1804, Alexander Hamilton has appeared in American culture in many forms. Post-Civil War nationalist, Progressive-era pro-active statesman, Cold War capitalist hero: Hamilton has been all of these things and more. But he has never been what Broadway's Hamilton has made him: an American folk hero. Given Hamilton's active distrust of democracy, it's a surprising and unlikely role, but in the troublous times of twenty-first century America it has real power, presenting Americans with a glory-filled Founding myth and a heroic advocate of the American Way. This Great Man view of the Founding is problematic in many ways. But as historically inaccurate as it is, Broadway's Hamilton has much to offer, restoring a sense of contingency to what is all too often seen as an inevitable success story, humanizing historical figures in a way that brings the past to life, and inviting people to analyze the nation's Founding myths anew.

This paper explores how, with England’s history as narrative vehicle, performance becomes an opportunity to locate past in present in early modern England--redefining past’s significance in the now and to the now of the audience. However, as Richard Mulcaster’s The Queen’s Majesty’s Passage and Christopher Marlowe’s Edward II illustrate, the political projects historical dramatization can serve vary greatly in the sixteenth century. In The Queen’s Majesty’s Passage , all of London turns into a civic stage that, through allegorically re-conceiving historical figures, reaffirms existing hierarchical structures and presents their new monarch as the fulfillment of England’s mythic past: as tradition and national identity exemplified. In Edward II , the playhouse becomes a place which re-imagines the past to problematize the very same concepts that the Passage seeks to unify by leaving concepts of monarch, royal authority, and Englishness open and ambiguous. So, while both performances blur lines--doubling and troubling distinctions between past-present-future and spaces in performance--these historical dramatizations diverge at the site of the spectator: on the role of individuals in defining identity, nation, community, and king for themselves.

This article argues that, in her second novel, Bitter in the Mouth , Monique Truong writes against the militaristic and traumatic overdeterminations of the Vietnam War faced by Vietnamese American writers. Offering an analysis of Truong’s incorporation and revision of three historical figures, Wilbur Wright, George Moses Horton, and Virginia Dare, from her source text North Carolina Parade , I argue that Truong tethers her narrative to migratory and deterritorialized rather than geographically fixed precursors, claims a queer and affective rather than ancestral lineage, and sources her narrative energy in utopian flux rather than traumatic destruction or exclusive nationalisms.

This essay examines long poems by contemporary women poets that represent examples of “poetic biography,” to consider the diversity of ways in which feminist poets are writing/documenting the lives of historical figures. I am chiefly concerned with investigating the potential for poetry to expand the field of biographical writing in relation to the female historical voice (as both the writer and the written).

"Using the first four years of Kayak as a case study, I explore the ways in which Kayak uses comic-style artistic and story-telling techniques to portray Canadian history in general, with a focus on how children and teenagers are represented as active historical figures in Canada’s past."

In the 1960s, a handful of Brazilian plays, presented as musicals, re-examined national historical figures. In these plays, the lines articulated by the actors carry as much weight as the musical notes and rhythms performed by the musicians. In Arena Conta Zumbi (1965), Arena Conta Tiradentes (1967), and Dr. Getulio, Sua Vida e Sua Gloria (1968), theatre troupes perform the life and historical times of prominent national heroes. The protagonists are characters whose lives are well known by all: King Zumbi of Palmares, Joaquim Jose da Silva Xavier, also known as Tiradentes, and former president Getulio Vargas. The directors—Augusto Boal, Gianfrancesco Guarnieri, Alfredo Dias Gomes, and Antonio Ferreira Gullar—do not detract from the protagonists’ historical importance, but they do strip away superfluous details and information that have made these mythical figures appear saintly and virtuous and not the human beings that they were. Music creates a distance that allows the audience to better understand the implications of their actions and contributions to the national stage. These plays criticized the Brazilian military dictatorship of the time and had considerable influence on the Brazilian theatre of the future.

In lieu of an abstract: Hubert Griffith’s play Red Sunday premiered at the Arts Theatre, London in June 1929 under the direction of Russian émigré Theodor Komisarjevsky. Subsequently, Griffith submitted the play to the Lord Chamberlain with the express aim of performing it on the West End stage. Lord Cromer rejected it, responding to vocal condemnation of the play from mainstream media—The Times criticized Red Sunday in an editorial entitled “A Dramatic Indiscretion”—and Buckingham Palace, from where the King, under pressure from exiled Russian royalists, requested it not be granted a license. The general consensus claimed that Red Sunday caused unwarranted “pain to Russians in London.” This was primarily due to its focus on real people, particularly the deceased Russian Tsar Nicholas II, and its presentation of such a dramatic, bloody, and recent period of Russian history as “entertainment.” The Times’ editorial condemned Red Sunday as unnecessarily cruel: Though he [the dramatist in a general sense] argues that an artist is free to choose his material where he pleases, he might well remember that a man of honour [sic] and independence is no betrayer of his right to speak freely, and even endorses that right, when he avoids a subject that must increase the suffering of those who have already suffered enough. The Times accused Griffith of neglecting his position as self-regulator of his own work. Ignoring calls to grant it a license, including “howls of protest from [George Bernard] Shaw among others,” the censor deemed Red Sunday unsuitable for the mainstream stage. In this regard, it can be read as part of a diverse canon of modernist work rejected by the Censor, from Henrik Ibsen’s Ghosts to Oscar Wilde’s Salome. Red Sunday clearly incensed the authorities. But what was it about this play that caused such outrage? Why was a play, whose initial Komisarjevsky-directed performance John Gielgud (who played the character of Bronstein/Trotsky) praised as a celebration of “continuous life and movement on the stage,” so heartedly rejected from the West End? Griffith provided an initial answer to this question by responding to The Times’ editorial in the letters section of the same newspaper: I treated his [the Tsar’s] domestic character with the very utmost reverence and sympathy of which I was capable. But that, as his political actions affected the whole world, I could not (and still cannot) conceive but that these are legitimate matters for the freest possible public discussion. He counteracted the claims that he had presented an unfair account of the Tsar, distinguishing between the private tragedy of a fallen leader and his far less agreeable politics. In a sense, counteracting The Times’ claims, Griffith certainly did self-censor to an extent and committed to presenting a somewhat more sympathetic figure than his leftist convictions might naturally have occasioned. It did not seem to matter; the play was censored regardless. Furthermore Griffith provocatively attacked the Censor for preventing general access to a play that enabled audience members to understand important and far-reaching world events. Proverbially biting his thumb at the Lord Chamberlain, The Times, and Buckingham Palace, Griffith published the play with “Banned by the Lord Chamberlain” emblazoned on the front cover and proceeded to write a scathing indictment of Cromer’s decision and the restrictions of censorship. He included this incendiary manifesto as a preface. Griffith wrote it as a detached observer, authoring it from the perspective of “a poor native of the South-Pacific island of Ping-Pang-Bong.” Unfortunately this infuses the preface with an unnecessary and troubling colonial under-narrative. Nevertheless it remains one of the most damning early twentieth-century denunciations of theatrical censorship. The “poor native” apparently watched Red Sunday while visiting London on a short break away from his “dancing-girls…dancing in the background, in arabesques that would have enchanted Gauguin.” The preface addresses the dual concerns of the Censor: that these events were simply too contemporaneous and painful to provide material for theater and that the play should not have presented the Tsar on the stage. The author rejects both considerations. Regarding the first, he maintains that theater should be a space where factually accurate narratives “recent or...

The essay discusses three theoretical approaches to one of the most neglected groups of the time: indigenous women. Indigenous women, as historical figures, were mostly erased from the record. When Golden Age authors wished to reinterpret historical events, particularly those having to do with the conquest, the female indigenous characters were the least complex characters through whom critiques could be voiced. The three potential theoretical approaches to the characterization of the indigenous woman in Early Modern Spanish theatre that I am proposing are the “Other as Other,” the “Other as Same,” and the “Double Other.” The section on “Other as Other” looks at the ways in which female indigenous characters were portrayed in oppositional and exotic roles; “Other as Same” discusses the portrayal of indigenous women as so similar to Spanish women as to be indistinguishable; and the “Double Other” analyzes characters that were given traits that belonged to women on both sides of the Atlantic. All three of these were used strategically by the playwrights to critique not only the conquest, but also Spanish society and members of the ruling class on both sides of the Atlantic. (EAC)

This essay considers the interdependence of formal and ethical questions about the appropriate use of particular detail by juxtaposing eighteenth-century fiction to contemporary practices of life-writing, especially the use of detail by Johnson in his Lives of the Poets and Boswell in his Life of Johnson . After laying out some premises about what constitutes novelistic detail during this period, the essay explores a productive tension between an ethical argument against “being particular” when writing about real historical figures and an increasingly strong preference for specificity in both fiction and nonfiction.

Thomas Dekker's The Shoemaker's Holiday places the char- acter Simon Eyre center stage as audiences witness his rapid rise from shoemaker to Lord Mayor. More than a figment of Dekker's imagination, Eyre was indeed a historical Lord Mayor, and the events in the play correspond to the actual events in Eyre's life from 1434-46. 1 The specificity of Eyre's background is contrasted with that of the ambiguous character of the king, who lurks on the play's margins. Jean E. Howard observes of early city com- edies, including The Shoemaker's Holiday, that "these London dramas make heroes of actual London citizens, displacing at- tention from the kings that dominate the national history play but have only peripheral roles in the new genre." 2 The particular king in The Shoemaker's Holiday is further marginalized by ref- erences to historical characters, notably Sir Roger Otley (Lord Mayor), 3 or allusions to other historical figures, such as Conand Askew, John Hammon, Sir John Cornwall, and John Lovell. 4 In the context of these historical references, the king in Dekker's play would chronologically be Henry VI. With Shakespeare's three plays devoted to him, Henry VI was already a well-known figure on the London stage, and the parallel is no doubt one that early modern English audiences would have recognized. It is curious, however, with the use of so many historical names, that Dekker chooses not to name his king. It could be that no introduction is necessary for such a well-dramatized king. But by not naming him, Dekker also leaves room for ambiguity, an ambiguity that produces critical doubt.

America's First Adventure in China: Trade, Treaties, Opium, and Salvation. By John R. Haddad. (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 2013. Pp. 283. Cloth, $35.00.)Reviewed by Dong WangJohn Haddad has written an engaging and lucid account of Americans' early experience in Qing China from 1784-the year of the maiden voyage of the Empress of China from New York-to the 1860s, following the suppression of the Taiping Rebellion. Drawing on an extensive array of primary and secondary sources, Haddad brings to life the American story of the U.S.-Chinese encounter through skillful biographical studies of important historical figures. This approach lends color to topics covered in the classic works of diplomatic history, the best-known example of which is Kenneth Scott Latourette's The History of Early Relations between the United States and China, 1784-1844, first published in 1917.The nine chapters of America's First Adventure in China focus on three categories of historical actors in early bilateral interactionsAmerican traders, Christian missionaries, and diplomats. Haddad pieces together the kaleidoscopic details of their varied experiences into one credible argument: that during this period the United States successfully established itself as a competitive new power, independent of Britain's dominance, in the Asia-Pacific. More than twenty American trading vessels anchored in Canton (Guangzhou) on average each year, totaling over six hundred ships between 1784 and 1814. The absence of official U.S. protection and bureaucratic institutions in China gave free rein to American entrepreneurism and pragmatism in the Qing Empire (1644-1911).Haddad devotes his first three chapters to the Canton trade. Chapter 1 relates the voyage of the Empress of China in 1784, the first direct contact between the United States and China. Key protagonists such as Samuel Shaw, Daniel Parker, and Phuankhequa (or Puan Khequa) are brought to life not only as merchants but also as individuals. In his vivid account of Perkins and Company in Chapter 2, Haddad argues that the innovative business system devised and practiced by a group of entrepreneurial Yankees-mainly Thomas Perkins, John Perkins Cushing, James Perkins, Thomas Forbes, and John Murray Forbes and their Chinese partners, such as Houqua-contributed to its expansion as a multinational firm that allegedly handled half of America's trade (including opium smuggling) with China.In the third chapter, Haddad explains how America's consumption of tea (ten to twenty million pounds per annum), in addition to the commercial drive for the double profit involved in selling "goods for goods" in both China and in the United States, compelled American private merchants to find value-added merchandise suitable for the China market in place of silver. Before the outbreak of the Opium War, Russell and Company, the successor to Perkins and Company, had risen to carry the largest volume of business-primarily opium, tea, and banking notes-in the China trade.Hard on the heels of these pioneering traders came the dynamic American missionaries who are the focus of Chapters 4 and 5. One of the main challenges for Americans in China arose from their relationship to opium, whether they supported or opposed the trade. In the end, each of the individuals involved was permanently affected by his stance on the narcotics issue. Robert B. Forbes, William Low, and others pumped drugs into China to satisfy their financial ambitions, but later found themselves haunted by the scourge of opium. …

When Benedict XVI was elected to the papacy in 2005, he continued to deliver the weekly General Audiences on the psalms and canticles that comprise Vespers using the text that St. John Paul II had prepared. (1) After completing that cycle of talks in February 2006, Benedict began his own series on the great figures of the history of the Church with the stated intention of reflecting on "the mystery of the relation between Christ and the Church." (2) As part of this series of audiences, which lasted until April 2011, Benedict delivered 170 addresses on the most significant figures in the history of early, medieval, and early-modern Christianity, proceeding chronologically from the apostles, through the Eastern and Western Church fathers and doctors and concluding with St. Therese of Lisieux. (3) These audiences can be counted among the most important contributions of Benedict's pontificate not only by reason of their numerical extent and historical breadth, but especially on account of their pastoral and theological significance. In this article, I will offer an overview of this series of audiences, explore the influence of history on Benedict's theological vision, and consider how Benedict offers an apology for the truth of Christianity by chronicling the historical unfolding of sanctity. I. The Scope of Benedict XVI's General Audiences on the History of the Church With the complete cycle of addresses in view and following the cues given in the audiences themselves, it is possible to discern ten parts. Benedict begins with an introductory set of seven talks reflecting on the apostolic constitution of the Church. He then turns to the apostles, dedicating fifteen talks to the Twelve. The numerical discrepancy is accounted for by the fact that Peter and John each receive three addresses, while Simon shares one with Jude and Judas shares one with his successor, Matthias. Next, Benedict turns his attention to the first witnesses of the Christian faith mentioned in the New Testament, with Paul being the focus of four of the nine talks. The next section features the principal writers, theologians, and doctors of the Eastern and Western Church, stretching from Clement of Rome to John Duns Scotus. Interspersed within this extensive series of eighty-four addresses are two interruptions. To mark the Year of St. Paul, which the Church celebrated in 2008 and 2009, Benedict delivered twenty talks dedicated exclusively to Paul in addition to the four already given in 2006. Similarly, during the Year for Priests that followed, he reflected on the essential character of the priesthood by drawing attention to a number of holy priests. While these two subsets of audiences do not follow the chronological structure of the other audiences, they nevertheless share the same pastoral program of calling attention to saintly historical figures and, for this reason, can be seen as belonging to the larger project. Returning to the saints and theologians of the medieval period, Benedict continues his trajectory until he reaches Duns Scotus and then dedicates sixteen audiences to the greatest of the medieval women saints. Using Teresa of Avila as a bridge, he ventures beyond the medieval period to focus his attention on the eight remaining doctors of the Church that had not already received his attention. One final concluding talk sums up the entire series by focusing on the theme of holiness. The following table summarizes the entire cycle of audiences: Table 1: Benedict XVI's General Audiences on the History of the Church DATES NUMBER OF AUDIENCES 1. Introduction: The March 15, 2006-May 10, 2006 7 Apostolic Ministry of the Church 2. The Twelve May 17, 2006-October 18, 2006 i5 3. First Biblical October 25, 2006-February 14, 9 Witnesses of the 2007 Christian Faith 4. …

Trained as an ethnographer, Ina Cesaire eventually decided to turn her back on the metropole and to live as a recluse, to voice her people but never herself, and only rarely her famous parents. Her creative work is largely grounded in memory preservation for the island of Martinique: recording and presenting oral tradition, imagining humble people’s roles in contemporary or distant periods, or creating her own vision of historical figures through dramatic dialogues. Cesaire’s work for the stage is the most extensive by any woman from the French Caribbean. In this essay, Makward gives an overview of the diversity of Cesaire’s opus, beginning with the forthcoming first volume of her plays (published by Karthala, Paris). She then discusses in more detail the two works (intimate dramas) that have been created in English in the USA ( Fire’s Daughters and Island Memories ) as well as others representing different categories of texts (historical dramas). In a third section, this article briefly describes the remaining, unpublished plays: adaptations from Martinican oral traditions, and adaptations from international plays and narratives (Brecht, Maupassant, Hearns). In her concluding remarks, Makward discusses language: Cesaire’s use of French and the question of Martinican Creole as dramatic tool.

Introduction In a recent survey conducted by the Ministry of Education and Sciences that evaluated Japanese schoolchildren’s knowledge of historical figures, Himiko 卑弥呼, a female ruler who governed a federation of kingdoms in the Japanese archipelago in the third century C.E., was recognized by 99 percent, the highest rate.1 Who was this famous woman? Himiko is historically significant for three reasons. First, she is the earliest documented chief, male or female, who exercised political authority over a large region of the Japanese archipelago before it was organized as a centralized state. Second, she was the earliest ruler whose ruling activities were described in detail. Third, Himiko’s rule marks the beginning of a strong legacy of female rule, despite the hiatus of several centuries separating her rule from that of later female sovereigns. Despite her indisputable fame, Himiko as a historical figure is deeply misunderstood. While the fact of her rule has never been questioned, Himiko and later female rulers

A striking feature of traditional Chinese drama criticism is the desire by some critics to produce comprehensive systems that evaluate and comparatively rank large numbers of plays and their playwrights. Two basic ranking systems were used. One, which had its origins in the evaluation of historical figures, candidates for office, and officials in the Later Han and Six Dynasties period (25–588), was used to divide people into nine ranks (pin 品), produced by doubling up the categories of “higher“ (shang 上), “middle” (zhong 中), and “lower” (xia 下): “higher of the higher” (shangshang 上上), “middle of the higher” (shangzhong 上中), “lower of the higher” (shangxia 上下), “higher of the middle” (zhongshang 中上), etc. The way the categories are labeled and distinguished from each other pays attention primarily to hierarchy. The other system, first developed in calligraphy and painting criticism, used a smaller number of categories (pin 品) that could vary in their number and hierarchical sequence from critic to critic, although the general hierarchy was pretty consistent. Each of these categories had a name that stressed particular aesthetic qualities or goals such as shenpin 神品 (divine class)

IMAGINING CHINA: THE VIEW FROM EUROPE, 1550-1700. Exhibition curation by Timothy Billings with Jim Kuhn and video curation by Alexander Huang. 18 September 2009-9 January 2010. This exhibit at the Folger Shakespeare Library (2009) was a testament to how views of China changed and developed during the 150 years concerned, as Europe learned about the country, as well as how balances are shifting in the United States today. It included information on how Shakespeare performance has developed in Chinese film and theatre, especially since 1986, via video examples selected by Alexander Huang that were available in a well-developed media kiosk. Though the artifacts in the exhibit reflected Elizabethan and Jacobean views of China, as a viewer I left thinking how presenting China has complexified in contemporary American museum display and how China--the "bamboo curtained" other of my childhood--has shifted from periphery of American consciousness toward China's historically self-conceived place, the center of things, culturally, economically, politically. The Folger library sits at the head of the national mall close to the Supreme Court, US legislative buildings, and Library of Congress. Henry Folger of Standard Oil established the library in the 1930s to plant Shakespeare firmly in the head of the American nation. His dream is alive and well in today's Washington: for example, the NEA's Shakespeare in American Communities program (http://www.shakespeareinamericancommunities.org), established in 2003 under the Bush administration, continues, sending teachers free DVDs featuring American teens of all ethnicities enraptured as they play Shakespeare and funding groups to crisscross the nation with Shakespeare performances. Paul Collins's lecture at the Folger, which greeted my arrival in Washington, included readings from his The Book of William: How Shakespeare's First Folio Conquered the World (Collins 2009) detailing his pilgrimages to the first folios in Japan. So I went to the Folger with visions of a literary-industrial complex dancing in my head. Was this a celebration of Shakespeare appropriating China, and did not the current debt economics have something to do with China being featured here? (Contemporary politics indeed "made this exhibit very easy to fund," as one staff member volunteered when we chatted during a break at a conference associated with the exhibit.) But the display was not a case of finding "new sites for Shakespeare" (to borrow John Russell Brown's (1999) enthusiastic phrase regarding his Asian theatre adventures). Rather, the display showed Timothy Billings's careful choices of books, images, and historical figures to clarify sixteenth- and seventeenth-century European perceptions of and encounters with China. Huang's video choices likewise convince us that, while there is definite West to East influence going (especially British to Asia) in film or theatre, it would also be productive to spend time researching inter-Asian influences (mainland China, Hong Kong, Taiwan, and Singapore were all included here) and seeing how different Chinese Shakespeares reflect the variety of Chinese relationships to Shakespeare (and of course other areas of Asia, notably Japan), historically and at present. This review will briefly consider the exhibit and then discuss Huang's video kiosk, inset near the entrance to the display. Billings selected a number of themes, and I will only hit on a few. The exhibit started with Jesuit-inflected images and writings on China, including those of Matteo Ricci (1552-1610) and Athanasius Kircher (1622-1680). It continued with early maps and images and then explored oddities that struck the European imagination--cormorants, medicines (including rhubarb and musk, as well as moxa), sail coaches ("cany wagons light" mentioned by John Milton in 1667, small vehicles which used wind power to move over flat beaches in the windswept south)--and showed an undelivered letter from Elizabeth I to the "Emperour of Cathaye. …

Blood Meridian exists in a world, or worlds, apart from any we know, present or past, a world(s) we envision as emerging forth from the mists of a recent current of revisionist histories. One of these worlds creates a new twentieth-century history for an old nineteenth-century world, in which the unimaginable violence of our time might be reconciled with that of the past; another world or zone of Blood Meridian acts as a retelling of western expansion under the ostensibly swaying flag of a colonial manifest destiny. McCarthy's novel is history, but it is also myth, both narratively and stylistically, although the myth he creates runs concurrent and, importantly, through the realities of a revisionist West. Beyond the violence, the most troubling and unsettling feature of Blood Meridian is the creation of these multiple fictional zones, reproduced simultaneously and unbearably; McCarthy's text creates a postmodern heterotopian zone in which multiple disparate spaces come to exist impossibly together, leaving him to dispatch a gang of historical figures into a neomythic, postapocalyptic, and postmodern unreality that is and is not Texas, that is and is not the West.

Reading has long been talked about in studies of nineteenth-century culture and of children's literature as a way to discipline adult and child readers in general or women and girls in particular, but it has received less attention as a source for ideas about disciplining boys. This article explores debates about boys and reading as theorized in novels, essay collections, children's periodicals, and conduct manuals, focusing on the work of Lydia Sigourney and Francis Forrester. While many writers favored an approach in which boys read narratives about historical figures and replay their typically masculine attitudes or actions, Sigourney, Forrester, and others were critical of this model.

Tony Harrison’s dramatic works frequently engage with issues of cultural memory, both what is remembered and what is forgotten. In most instances, Harrison explores these issues by engaging with canonical texts, which, like certain examples of material culture—particularly monumental architecture—are marked by both their duration and by the accretion of a multiplicity of interpretations and symbolic functions. These works become, to use Pierre Nora’s term, lieux de memoire , “sites of memory,” endowed by the collective cultural imagination with a symbolic aura. Nora noted “that lieux de memoire only exist because of their capacity for metamorphosis, an endless recycling of their meaning and an unpredictable proliferation of their ramifications” (19). It is with the metamorphic nature of mythic characters, texts, and sites that Harrison engages as they provide him spaces endowed with significance by both the past and the present: these are spaces in which collective and cultural memory has been repeatedly constructed through the centuries. Numerous aspects of memory in Harrison’s work could be fruitfully explored, but this paper limits itself to a relatively brief discussion of Harrison’s examination of remembrance, or the lack thereof, in the mythic examples of Hecuba, Medea, and Hercules, and the historical figures such as Faustina and the anonymous victims of contemporary conflicts.

This essay compares the theological orientation of Bartolome de Las Casas (1484-1566) with those of two other notable colonial Latin American ecclesial figures: Toribio de Benavente Motolinia (1494/95-1565), and Juan Vasco de Quiroga (1477/78- 1565). An examination of the experiential and theoretical epistemological sources of their theological orientations reveals the influence of different temporal, social, and geographic experiences as well as of their common and distinctive intellectual formations. Their understandings of and activities in the New World reflect these epistemological influences. The data demonstrate that Las Casas's theological orientation was primarily prophetic in his quest for justice for the Indigenous and drew from Thomism and Scripture; Motolinia's was predominantly millenarian in his ardor to establish the New Jerusalem and mirrored the Franciscan Spirituals' tradition; Quiroga's was principally utopian in his approach to Christianize, civilize, and educate the Indigenous as well as employed Christian humanist ideas. A summary analysis argues that the prophetic dimension of Las Casas's theological orientation is further differentiated from that of his two contemporaries by its universalist character and its dynamic development during the course of his lifetime. Keywords: Colonial period; Las Casas, Bartolome de; missionary labor; Motolinia; Quiroga "I have delved so deep into the waters of these matters that I have reached their source." - Bartolome de Las Casas, O.P., 1563(1) During the Spanish American colonial period, many secular and religious clerics served as missionaries.2 A number of them became prominent historical figures because of their writings; some of their chronicles became enduring historical sources. Of these sixteenth-century clerics, Bartolome de Las Casas became the most well known.Yet studies about Las Casas tend to examine his life and labor in isolation. For example, the important works of Helen Rand Parish extensively study Las Casas but do not systematically compare his life's work with those of his missionary contemporaries. Conversely, some studies about other colonial missionaries tend to avoid systematic consideration of Las Casas. Perhaps the best example of that tendency appears in Robert Ricard's seminal work, which denominated the enterprise of evangelization as the "spiritual conquest" of the Americas.3 This study compares the theological orientation of Bartolome de Las Casas with those of two prominent missionary contemporaries: Toribio de Benavente Motolinia and Juan Vasco de Quiroga.4 Their theological orientations were distinctive: Las Casas's was predominantly prophetic, Motolinia's was primarily millenarian, and Quiroga's was principally Utopian. These distinctive theological orientations were shaped by various experiential and theoretical epistemologies. Las Casas, Motolinia, and Quiroga embarked on their missionary labors at different stages of the conquest, colonization, and evangelization of the New World. In 1502, Las Casas (1484-1566) arrived in Hispaniola during the initial"pacification" of the Indigenous.5 In 1524, Motolinia (1494/95-1565) landed with Los Doce in New Spain after Cortes's conquest of Tenochtitlan.6 In 1530, Quiroga (1477/78-1565) reached Mexico City as the decade of Nuno Beltran de Guzman's tyranny was terminated.7 These missionaries exercised a variety of ecclesiastical roles in the emerging colonial Church. Las Casas first served the Church in Hispaniola as a doctrinero from 1502 to 1506.8 After ordination in Rome as a secular priest in 1507, he returned a second time to the New World, where he labored as chaplain in Hispaniola and Cuba.9 In 1522, Las Casas became a mendicant friar of the Order of Friars Preachers (Dominicans). Motolinia was also a mendicant friar, but of the Order of Friars Minor (Franciscans). Both Las Casas and Motolinia served their religious orders in a variety of positions. …

TOWARDS the end of his Histoire de l'Empire de Russie sous Pierre le Grand (1759-63), Voltaire indulges in the sort of spurious high-mindedness that later generations found distasteful in his work, and which undermined, in certain quarters, his reputation as a moralist. Relating Peter the Great's alleged role in the death by torture of his heir the Tsarevitch Alexis (1690-1718), the Enlightenment historian reminds the reader that in modern times the standards of "universal criticism"--in other words, the requirement to take into account all printed and manuscript sources, as well as personal testimony--make it more difficult than hitherto to impugn unfairly the reputation of historical figures. "Il suffisait," he writes, "d'une ligne dans Tacite ou dans Suetone, et meme dans les auteurs des legendes, pour rendre un prince odieux au monde, et pour perpetuer son opprobre de siecle en siecle" (857-858). What Voltaire is in effect saying is that historians of the past routinely used biased and carefully selected data to formulate unbalanced and unfair judgments and that, by contrast, the modern historian should recognize the duty to be both impartial and truthful. Voltaire characteristically ignored this worthy ideal when, at the same time as he was writing the history of Peter the Great, he penned his Memoires pour servir a la vie de M. de Voltaire ecrits par lui-meme. These include a description of Frederick the Great which is partial, biased, and malicious, especially in relating the King's alleged homosexuality. How is it, we might ask, that could Voltaire act in a way wholly unfaithful to his own principles? Voltaire's Memoires only appeared after his death. There is nevertheless considerable evidence to suggest that he intended the manuscript for publication. A pirated edition was printed in 1784 under the title of La Vie privee du roi de Prusse. The book's scandalous revelations guaranteed that it was promptly banned by the authorities in France following a formal complaint by the Prussian Minister Goltz. The Memoires remained outside the Voltairean canon until Beaumarchais brought out the last (and seventieth) volume of the Kehl edition of Voltaire's Oeuvres in 1789, after the King of Prussia's death. Anticipating the outrage that publication of the Memoires in the Kehl edition would unleash, the marquis de Villette--who incidentally was married to Voltaire's adopted niece--claimed in 1788 that Voltaire wrote them after his return from Prussia and that he burnt the manuscript following his reconciliation with Frederick sometime in the mid to late 1750s. Villette adds, however, that before Voltaire destroyed the manuscript, two copies had been made without his knowledge. We now know that Voltaire wrote his Memoires in the late 1750s, and that, far from destroying the manuscript, he commissioned at least five copies of it himself. One of these copies is in the same hand as the La Valliere manuscript of Candide (Wade 141). Voltaire must have known--indeed he must have hoped--that his Memoires would be published after his death. But why? In a recent, annotated edition of the Memoires, Jacqueline Hellegouarc'h conjectures that Voltaire's purpose in composing this narrative was both personal and literary. On the personal side, Voltaire never forgave Frederick II for ordering his incarceration at Frankfurt and for holding him and his niece prisoner for five weeks in the late spring and early summer of 1753. Recent biographers agree that that incident had an effect on Voltaire as profound as the thrashing he had received some thirty years earlier from le chevalier de Rohan (Pomeau 737-748). Voltaire had this in common with the Bourbons: he never forgave and he never forgot. The malice evident in the Memoires has persuaded many that Voltaire's observations on Frederick the Great's sexual habits were not reliable. Carlyle, notably, dismissed Voltaire's assertions as a scandalous libel and most academic historians have followed suit (1:11-12). …

Women in Statius's Silvae appear frequently and prominently. Focusing on Silvae 1.2 and 5.1, this paper examines how Statius consciously creates portraits of Violentilla (1.2) and Priscilla (5.1) which both reflect these historical figures and also embody the traditional feminine ideals appropriate to the celebratory occasions and corresponding poetic genres in which they appear (epithalamium and epicedion respectively). This approach relies in part on Pierre Bourdieu's sociological theories: ultimately Statius exploits his feminine constructs to fulfill his primary poetic purpose, namely to create distinction (symbolic capital) for the poems' male addressees.

The essay focuses on the writer Edgar Rice Burroughs (1875–1950)—the creator of Tarzan—and his contemporary and president of the American Museum of Natural History, Henry Fairfield Osborn (1857–1935). These historical figures are of interest as multimedia-versed shapers of collective fantasies of human evolution. Both men created and drew on science and fiction to produce vraisemblance in their reconstructions of human prehistory, and thus to achieve suspension of disbelief. Their main tools were arguably very different: one organized expeditions to collect fossils and installed a staff of artists and technicians at the museum to reconstruct the fossil creatures; the other turned himself into a writing-factory, producing as large an amount of words per day as possible. As is shown, the two cultures nonetheless interacted on the level of structure as well as content when bringing the dinosaurs and cavemen to life in fully equipped prehistoric worlds. The resulting windows into the human deep past were meant to educate the public through entertainment. Osborn and Burroughs engaged in “interesting experiment[s] in the mental laboratory which we call imagination” when they made different races, sexes, and national types compete in prehistoric struggles for existence. The laboratory setups were to reveal natural hierarchies, but they were also intended to transform the reader/viewer. The verbal and visual reconstructions of lost worlds served Burroughs’s and Osborn’s conservatism: the true American/Anglo-Saxon type had to be preserved, if not recovered.

Across the Continent: Jefferson, Lewis and Clark, and the Making of America. Edited by Douglas seefeldt, Jeffrey L. Hantman, and Peter S. Onuf. (Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press, 2005. Pp. x, 222. Cloth, $29.50.)Exploring with Lewis and Clark: The 1804 Journal of Charles Floyd. Edited by James J. Holmberg. (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 2005. Pp. xiv, 98. Illustrations, maps. Cloth, $45.00.)Jefferson's Western Explorations: Discoveries Made in Exploring the Missouri, Red River, and Washita. By Captains Lewis and Clark, Doctor Sibley, and William Dunbar, and compiled by Thomas Jefferson. Facsimile, with new introduction and edited by Doug Erickson, Jeremy Skinner, and Paul Merchant. (Spokane, WA: Arthur H. Clark, 2004. Pp. 336. Maps. Cloth, $62.50.)The Shortest and Most Convenient Route: Lewis and Clark in Context. Edited by Robert S. Cox. (Philadelphia, PA: American Philosophical Society, 2004. Pp. vii, 255. Paper, $24.00.)Venereal Disease and the Lewis and Clark Expedition. By Thomas P. Lowry. (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2004. Pp. xvi, 117. Cloth, $21.95.)Whether these five books represent a new trend in Lewis and Clark studies cannot be answered for certain just yet; however, as a group they clearly indicate a major shift in focus away from many of the earlier grand narratives of the Corps of Discovery. Those narratives largely analyzed the events and encounters during the trip from St. Louis to the Pacific Ocean and back or focused on the participants in the expedition in general or on the actions, mental state, or knowledge of its leaders, Captains Meriwether Lewis and William Clark, in particular. These new works, however, push the boundaries of past scholarship in new directions. They decenter the main events of the expedition either by examining broader frameworks for understanding the expedition or by focusing on different topics and historical figures treated by earlier historians as marginal to the main story, if they were covered at all. Even Stephen Ambrose's interest in Thomas Jefferson, a major figure in several of the essays examined here, declined dramatically once Lewis left Monticello for Philadelphia. The five works under current review include two edited collections, Across the Continent and The Shortest and Most Convenient Route, that contain only one essay that makes primary use of sources produced by the Corps members or addresses a topic largely centered around the well-known activities of the expedition. The other three works include a medical history, Venereal Disease and the Lewis and Clark Expedition, whose scope is limited to only one area of sickness; a facsimile of Thomas Jefferson's 1806 Message of the President to Congress, Jefferson's Western Explorations, which places the Lewis and Clark expedition within the context of other river explorations of the time; and Exploring with Lewis and Clark, a facsimile of the journal of Sergeant Charles Floyd, whose account is the shortest of the six extant journals from the expedition because of his sudden death on August 20, 1804, a mere three months after the Corps left St. Louis.While some of these studies or documents are more successful than others in terms of advancing our knowledge of this time period, the fact that they were all published around the time of the bicentennial of the Corps of Discovery expedition is significant. The mere existence of each of these volumes can be attributed to the heightened interest, among both scholarly and general audiences, that is presumed by many publishers to surround all things pertaining to the expedition. An awareness of this broader context of publishing strategies is important with regard to issues associated with the intended audience and content of each work and in some cases with the fact that they were published at all.The essays collected in the volumes Across the Continent and The Shortest and Most Convenient Route, along with the facsimile of Jefferson's 1806 Message of the President to Congress in Jefferson's Western Explorations, will be most relevant to scholars of the early republic, especially to those interested in Jefferson's role as a driving force for empire or in the topics of geopolitics, science, political economy, or culture during the early years of United States history. …

as well is the apparent tension-at times openly expressed-with more established critical work, nation-based research, and direct study of canonical works and writers, high culture, and "great" historical figures and moments. Recent critical trends within Caribbean scholarship have achieved higher visibility in part because of the support of various university and independent presses-such as the university presses of North Carolina and Florida and Editorial Callej6n in Puerto Rico. Felix V. Matos Rodriguez's "New Directions in Puerto Rican Studies" (University Press of Florida) and Louis A. Perez Jr.'s "Envisioning Cuba" (University of North Carolina Press) are seminal series in this regard.

Modern critics have paid little attention to Lope de Vega's play, La reina Juana de Napoles (1597-1603). Aesthetically, it has been viewed as one of Lope's inferior works. This essay considers Lope's play from an ideological standpoint. The analysis shows that the value of this work lies in its representation of a broad range of political and gender issues. The play explores the complexity and the paradoxes inherent in the marginal position held by a woman in power in a society in which power is essentially a male privilege. This topic would have been significant to Lope and his contemporaries owing to past and present historical examples of women in power. By evoking the historical figures of Elizabeth I of England, Isabel la Catolica, and Joan I of Anjou, queen of Naples, La reina Juana de Napoles alludes to proximal and past events in Spanish history. At the same time, the play participates in the ongoing debate of its time on the legitimacy of the presence of women in positions of power.

In his article, Vladimir Bobrovnikov analyzes the motives of violence and power in the historical memory of Dagestani mountaineers during the transitional period (the 18th and first half of the 19th centuries), in which region was incorporated into the Russian empire, but retained its frontier characteristics in the context of Russian-Muslim encounter of the Caucasus. The author bases his analysis on the Tale of Khochbar . Having surveyed the existing translations of this text, Bobrovnikov concludes that they are inadequate for scholarly work and proposes a new own translation based on the earliest version of the historical document. The author then recites the plot of the Tale providing commentary on the mentioned historical figures and socio-cultural and political realities at the time of composition. Noting the palimpsest layers of this historical document, the author sheds light on the period before the Caucasian war and incorporation of the mountainous region into the Russian empire. The Tale reports on the life in the Muslim borderland, which was united at that time in a confederation of mountain tribes. The military units of this confederation carried out assaults on the Georgian Kingdom and defended the confederation in case of attack. In a subsequent period at the end of the 18th and beginning of the 19th centuries the unity of the mountainous confederation was undermined by rival powers, the Iranian and the Russian empires. The imperial rivalry brought a tension to the tribal elite and communes. First, Iranian (Shia) expansion triggered the increasing identification with and politicization of Islam by the tribal communes, then was directed against the Russian empire’s presence in the region and the empire mountainous elite allied with the empire. Having reconstructed the historical context, Bobrovnikov returns to the motif of Khochbar in which, he asserts, two different figures blurred as a result of textual palimpsest. One figure represents the reality of mountainous confederation and its young armed formations that distinguished themselves in raids on Georgia. The other figure stands for the Muslim movement against the imperial domination, which was behind the Islamic theocratic state that took shape during the war in the Caucasus. The textual coalescence of those two figures in the text of the historical document leaves the question open as to what extent the changing historical reality of Caucasus was underpinned by the continuity of socio-cultural patterns of a frontier society.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer Works, Vol. 8: Letters and Papers from Prison, English Edition. Edited by John W. de Gruchy; translated by Isabel Best, Lisa E. Dahill, Reinhard Krauss, and Nancy Lukens. "After Ten Years" translated by Barbara and Martin Rumscheidt, and supplementary material translated by Douglas W. Stott. (Minneapolis: Fortress Press. 2010. Pp. xxiii, 750. $60.00. ISBN 978-0-800-69703-7). Fortress Press has devoted nearly two decades to the publication of sixteen annotated volumes of Dietrich Bonhoeffer's writings. The arrival of volume 8, Letters and Papers from Prison, means that only two volumes, 11 and 15, remain in this prodigious undertaking that is now under the general editorship of Victoria Barnett and Barbara Wojhoski and assisted by numerous Bonhoeffer scholars and translators.The entire project relies, of course, on the original German edition, edited by Bonhoeffer's friend and biographer, Eberhard Bethge, plus seven others, and completed in 1998. Few theologians or historical figures inspire this level of interest and effort. It is clear, however, that Bonhoeffer is worthy of the attention. He first emerged in the 1950s and 1960s as a major figure of both historical and theological interest. It is now clear that Bonhoeffer was no passing fad. A large part of the interest in Bonhoeffer rests on his nearly unique response to the horrors perpetrated by Germans under Hitler. Instead of welcoming him, as many Christians mistakenly did, Bonhoeffer opposed Hitler and the Nazi ideology from the start. Furthermore, after he could not convince even the Confessing Church to criticize Nazism as he did, he joined the conspiracy trying to overthrow the regime. This activity led to his arrest and imprisonment in April 1943, followed by his execution in April 1945, even as the Nazi regime was crumbling. We now admire Bonhoeffer's political insight and moral courage. Bonhoeffer also emerged as one of the most influential Protestant theologians in the second half of the twentieth century. All sixteen volumes give us important access to Bonhoeffer; however, this volume concentrates on two of the most central aspects of his story: the human cost of his courage and martyrdom and the radical nature of his theology for "a world come of age." Letters and Papers from Prison also is the book-now greatly enlarged, heavily annotated, and newly translated-which first brought Bonhoeffer to the attention of the postwar world. In 1945 Bethge dug up a cache of letters buried in the backyard of the Bonhoeffer home in Berlin. For six years he held onto these and other letters written and received by Bonhoeffer during two years in prison. Some of these- between Bonhoeffer and his family- had been legally written and thus were self-censored. Others represented an illegal correspondence, mainly between Bonhoeffer and Bethge, smuggled in and out of prison by a friendly guard. Bethge published a selection of these letters under the title Widerstand und Ergebung (Munich, 1951). …

We often delight in books that defend bold and controversial theses and attempt to dislodge our long-established interpretations of historical figures and movements. Such writings don’t always convince but at least provoke us to rethink our all-too-tidy understandings of the past. John Yolton’s latest offering is one such work. In it the esteemed Locke scholar attempts to rewrite the philosophical history of the theory of perception and knowledge in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.

Hans L. Trefousse's Thaddeus Stevens: Nineteenth-Century Egalitarian marks the culmination of a remarkable biographical transformation. Few historical figures have been the subject of more consistent attack and scorn than the Pennsylvanian who led the "Radical" Republican forces in the House of Representatives during the Civil War and the early years of Reconstruction. James E Rhodes condemned Stevens as a "violent partisan." William A. Dunning labeled him "truculent, vindictive, and cynical." Claude G. Bowers thought he was "as much a revolutionist as Marat in his tub." James G. Randall found him full of "vindictive ugliness" (p. xii). Even Fawn Brodie's 1959 Thaddeus Stevens: Scourge of the South, while certainly the least condemnatory biography, nonetheless focused on charges of sexual impropriety and corruption to such an extent that the reader is left with little admiration for the man affectionately known to his supporters as "the Old Commoner." By the time one finishes Trefousse's biography, virtually none of the old historiographic edifice remains standing. Trefousse concludes that Stevens was not a reckless firebrand but a perceptive politician who understood that his forceful calls for abolition, the arming of black troops, equal rights, and black suffrage would prepare the public for their eventual implementation by more moderate leaders such as Lincoln. And far from being the "Dictator of the House," Trefousse argues that Stevens rarely succeeded in translating his convictions into law. His plans for the confiscation of southern land were ignored and his proposals for equal rights and suffrage protection for the freedmen were watered down until they became pale imitations of Stevens's original enlightened efforts. The only stereotype of Stevens that remains intact by the end of Trefousse's biography is his legendarily sarcastic wit. Both his friends and enemies agreed that Stevens's capacity for sarcasm was unequalled. Other than that, Trefousse's interpretation of Stevens is one that would have been almost unthinkable to historians a few generations ago.

correctly assigned dates, accurately related events, and realistically depicted places and figures of the novel.2 The story, for example, takes place in the past, famous historical figures are included, and history has a tremendous effect on the behavior of the characters. In this way Chariton imitates the classical historians in technique, not for the purpose of masquerading as a professional histo? rian, but rather, as Hagg suggests, to create the "effect of openly mixing fictitious characters and events with historical ones."3 This effect is partially created by the use of a historical source which deals with myth.4

The Correspondence of Roland H. Bainton and Delio Cantimori 1932-1966: An Enduring Transatlantic Friendship between Two Historians of Religious Toleration. Edited by John Tedeschi. [Studi e testi per Ia storia della tolleranza in Europa nei secoli XVI-XVIII, 6.] (Florence: Leo S. Olschki Editore. 2002. Pp.xii, 313. euro29,00 paperback.) This beautifully produced and meticulously edited volume contains sixtyseven letters between Bainton and Cantimori. Apart from their correspondence they hardly knew each other. During the course of the thirty-three years of their friendship, they met only twice for a brief few hours. Cantimori, the younger of the two, opened the correspondence by congratulating Bainton on his book on Sebastian Castellio and telling him that he was working on riformatori italiani such as Bernardo Ochino and Lelio Socino. Bainton responded, and the exchange began. It was intermittent. Many letters have been lost. The correspondence ends sadly in 1966 with Bainton telling Cantimori of the death of his wife. Just a few months later Cantimori died unexpectedly from an accident in his home. As John Tedeschi observes in his excellent introduction, on most levels the two men could not have been more different. Bainton was outgoing and gregarious, a devout Christian, a fine speaker, a good stylist who wrote with seeming ease. Among his many publications was one that became almost a best-seller, Here I Stand, his biography of Luther. Cantimori was his opposite in all those respects. he produced only one monograph, on which his reputation was made, Eretici italiani del Cinquecento (1939). When Harvard University Press attempted in the mid-1970's to publish an English translation, the project had to be abandoned at the galleys' stage "because the nuances, subtleties and complexities of Cantimori's exposition could not be adequately rendered" (p. 44). Two things bound these scholars together: their interest in the same historical figures and phenomena, viz., the Italian heretics or non-conformists of the sixteenth century and their place in the history of toleration, and, secondly, their own contrary stance to the status-quo. Bainton was a conscientious objector in World War I, and he consistently voted the Socialist ticket as a protest against the two major parties. Cantimori explained to Bainton in 1957 when he broke with the Communist Party that his actions did not mean he abandoned his conviction that Italy needed a profound change (p. 184). When Bainton earlier asked him why he was a Communist, he replied that the party was the only one in Italy that "will not make a deal with the church" (p. …

Gertrude Van Rensselaer Wickham's preliminary research for "Dogs of Noted Americans" offers insight into the domestic lives of writers, historical figures, and other celebrities of the last half of the nineteenth century as well as into the ideology of pets in Victorian America.

Velez de Guevara, Luis. Si el caballo vos han muerto, y Blason de los Mendozas. Ed. William R. Manson and C. George Peale. Introd. Javier Gonzalez and Valerie F. Endres. Newark, DE: Juan de la Cuesta, 2007. l67 pp.In a concerted effort to bring forth more attention to the works of Spanish Golden Age dramatist Velez de Guevara (1578-1644), William R. Manson and C. George Peale have edited and published rarely studied plays since 1997, including their latest, Si el caballo vos han muerto, y Blason de los Mendozas, dated between 1625-1630, with introductions by Javier Gonzalez and Valerie F. Endres. This ambitious project stems from the fact that, as in the case of many of his contemporaries, not only are there significant research gaps in the vast majority of Velez de Guevara's extant plays (approximately seventy-five), but the number of modern editions of his works is limited. The authors continue their series by offering this particular edition because "los mejores dramas de Luis Velez de Guevara son los que se basan en la historia nacional ... y el mas destacado de todos ellos es Si el caballo vos han muerto" (13).Based on a popular romance published in Flores del Parnaso, Octava parte (Toledo, 1596), which pays homage to historical figures Don Pedro de Gonzalez de Mendoza (1340-1385) and his son Diego Hurtado de Mendoza (1367-1404), Velez de Guevara contextualizes the glossed events in characteristic "fabla antigua." The play dramatizes the relationship between Don Pedro, his son, and the king, culminating in Pedro's heroic actions in the Battle of Aljubarrota (1385), in which Pedro gave his horse to the king so that he could flee to safety, and, with no way to escape, Pedro falls in battle. Due in large part to this valiant and noble act, the Mendoza family continued on a path to greatness in power and wealth.In conjunction with Velez de Guevara's mastery of dramatic ambiance, dialogues, and recycling of legendary episodes well known to the public, Javier J. Gonzalez maintains that the dramatist's ingenuity in his creation of a theatrical world that makes the action in the romance come to life not only sets this historical play apart from many others in the genre, but it is an excellent example of the fame, popularity, and direct influence that traditional romances had on the Comedia Nueva during the first decades of the seventeenth century, particularly with regard to action and themes. Si el caballo is unique in that "fue compuesta, y seguro representada, cuando estaba en auge el culteranismo que desterro por completo la recurrencia al romancero tradicional" (15).Although Manson and Peale are the primary authors of the play's annotations (135-62), manuscript variants, versification analysis (31-39), and bibliographical information (41-47), Gonzalez and Endres share a surprisingly thin introduction to the work (sixteen pages total). …

The New England college preparatory school provides a microcosm of Jewish life in an academic setting. In an educational project for five new England preparatory schools students explored different forms of Jewish leadership by acting the roles of historical figures with whom they identified. Leaders ranged from business woman and mother, Gluckel of Hamlin, to Zionist Theodore Herzl and poet Hannah Senesh. These biographical presentations revealed students creating their own biographies as Jewish leaders.

It is argued that reconstruction of the emotional lives of historical figures is a separate historical genre. Comparative analysis of historical genres, and illustrations of emotional history, constitute the bulk of the essay.

In 1640, the Mexican Jesuit Matias Bocanegra wrote La comedia de San Francisco de Borja to celebrate the arrival of a new viceroy. In the spring of 1671, Calderon wrote El gran duque de Gandia to celebrate the canonization of St. Francis Borgia. Both plays had long been thought lost; Bocanegra's came to light in 1953 and Calderon's in 1958. Both plays deal with the same historical figures and depend upon the same sources to a degree. But it is the similarity of dramatic technique, the identity of fictitious personages and the similar structure in both dramas that are persuasive indications that Calderon used Bocanegra's work extensively. Circumstances and need dictated this borrowing, although Calderon recast the work In his own inimitable language and style and heightened the sub plot by borrowing from another Jesuit source, Calleja. (TH)