The first English-language collection of short stories by award-winning Peruvian author Edgardo Rivera Martínez

The stories in Marayrasu stage fantastical, mysterious encounters that belie the characters’ often harsh economic and political realities as they seek belonging in modern Peru through art, music, and relationships. Depicted in poetic prose, these characters are loners, orphans, and outcasts experiencing quiet, tender encounters with other people and animals, the creative arts, and the land they find themselves depending on. Living vibrantly within these stories, the leviathan of Inca lore considers its own form, a young boy moves to a mining town and gets involved with a local union leader’s fight for worker rights while feeling the powerful pull of a large mountain overlooking the town, and a Persian cat captures the attention of a family down on its luck. Amy Olen’s translation smoothly captures Rivera Martínez’s impressive stories, offering a unique lens into the region at the heart of this canonical author’s inimitable work.

Honorable Mention for Best Book Award from the Historia Reciente y Memoria Section of the Latin American Studies Association (LASA)​

Memories before the State examines the discussions and debates surrounding the creation of the Place of Memory, Tolerance, and Social Inclusion (LUM), a national museum in Peru that memorializes the country’s internal armed conflict of the 1980s and 1990s. Emerging from a German donation that the Peruvian government initially rejected, the Lima-based museum project experienced delays, leadership changes, and limited institutional support as planners and staff devised strategies that aligned the LUM with a new class of globalized memorial museums and responded to political realities of the country’s postwar landscape. The book analyzes forms of authority that emerge as an official institution seeks to incorporate and manage diverse perspectives on recent violence.
 

In November 1532, a group of 168 Spaniards seized the Inca emperor Atahuallpa in the town of Cajamarca, in the northern Peruvian highlands. Their act, quickly taken as a symbol of the conquest of a vast empire, brought them unprecedented rewards in gold and silver; it made them celebrities, gave them first choice of positions of honor and power in the new Peru of the Spaniards, and opened up the possibility of a splendid life at home in Spain, if they so desired. Thus they became men of consequence, at the epicenter of a swift and irrevocable transformation of the Andean region. Yet before that memorable day in Cajamarca they had been quite unexceptional, a reasonable sampling of Spaniards on expeditions all over the Indies at the time of the great conquests.

The Men of Cajamarca is perhaps the fullest treatment yet published of any group of early Spaniards in America. Part I examines general types, characteristics, and processes visible in the group as representative Spanish immigrants, central to the establishment of a Spanish presence in the New World’s richest land. The intention is to contribute to a changing image of the Spanish conqueror, a man motivated more by pragmatic self-interest than by any love of adventure, capable and versatile as often as illiterate and rough. Aiming at permanence more than new landfalls, these men created the governmental units and settlement distribution of much of Spanish America and set lasting patterns for a new society.

Part II contains the men’s individual biographies, ranging from a few lines for the most obscure to many pages of analysis for the best-documented figures. The author traces the lives of the men to their beginnings in Spain and follows their careers after the episode in Cajamarca.

A study of the production and movement of prints in colonial South America.

Printed images have had a central place in art-historical studies of colonial Spanish America, but scholars have typically focused on imported prints, designed and produced in Europe. The Mobile Image focuses instead on works printed in colonial Lima, generating there a distinctive print culture that served local and regional needs, while also appealing to European print consumers.

Inexpensive, easily transportable, and numerous, Lima’s prints traversed the varied geographies of the Viceroyalty of Peru both as loose sheets and within the protective covers of printed books. In the process, limeño devotional prints encouraged the development of shared regional imaginaries about the sacred Andean landscape, a space marked by miracle-working Virgins, potential saints, and powerful images of Christ. These same prints traveled abroad, where they promoted iconographies developed in Lima and influenced European conceptions of the Andes. Simultaneously, the visual language of limeño prints often challenges conventional approaches to interpreting colonial depictions of race. In analyzing limeño prints, and the identities of their makers, patrons, and consumers, The Mobile Image demonstrates that race is harder to recognize in colonial images than we might think. Unearthing hundreds of forgotten prints, Emily C. Floyd provides a fresh resource for interpreting colonial artworks, troubling established understandings of their aesthetics, and compelling us to reexamine colonial South American material cultures.

Modern Peru: A New History offers a sweeping account of Peru’s history from the wars of independence to the present day. Delving into a past characterized by instability and a series of interrupted national projects, the contributors examine the legacies of Tupac Amaru’s 1780s rebellion and the intense ideological debates between conservatives and liberals about the newly independent nation. They analyze the mid-nineteenth-century guano state, the catastrophic defeat in the War of the Pacific, and the establishment of an exclusionary oligarchic state—the "Aristocratic Republic"—based on a diverse export economy. Outlining Peru’s twentieth-century transition from a rural, agrarian society to a primarily urban one, the contributors explore the 1968 coup and its unfulfilled promise of top-down social transformation, which was followed by years of democratic rule marked by internal armed conflict and economic mismanagement. This period culminated in the authoritarian neoliberal revolution of Alberto Fujimori, whose economic and political legacies in the new century resulted in a booming economy, now in abeyance, and a deeply dysfunctional democracy. Accessible and wide-ranging, Modern Peru provides a singularly panoramic perspective on Peru’s history.

Contributors. Eduardo Dargent, Paulo Drinot, Cynthia McClintock, José Luis Rénique, Natalia Sobrevilla Perea, Alberto Vergara, Charles Walker

When geologist Roseanne Chambers made her first visit to Machu Picchu in 2006, it sparked a deep fascination with the geology and culture of the Peruvian Andes. Amid the plethora of information available about the Andes Mountains, as well as the Incas and their ancestors, she was unable to find a book that specifically traced the geologic history of that landscape and how this history shaped ancient Andean societies. Consequently, she decided to write that book herself.

At once approachable and informative, The Monumental Andes tells the history of the lofty mountains and civilizations that characterize the Central Andes. The book explores many interconnected aspects of ancient Andean life, including climate, topography, agricultural methods, natural hazards, the construction of monumental structures, the creation of sophisticated art objects, and the plant-based hallucinogens and narcotics used in religious rituals. From earthquake-resistant structures to shrines on the tops of active volcanoes, ancient Andeans left behind relics that amaze and inspire today.

Best Nineteenth-Century Book Award Winner, 2018, Latin American Studies Association Nineteenth-Century Section

Moral electricity—a term coined by American transcendentalists in the 1850s to describe the force of nature that was literacy and education in shaping a greater society. This concept wasn't strictly an American idea, of course, and Ronald Briggs introduces us to one of the greatest examples of this power: the literary scene in Lima, Peru, in the nineteenth century.

As Briggs notes in the introduction to The Moral Electricity of Print, "the ideological glue that holds the American hemisphere together is a hope for the New World as a grand educational project combined with an anxiety about the baleful influence of a politically and morally decadent Old World that dominated literary output through its powerful publishing interests." The very nature of living as a writer and participating in the literary salons of Lima was, by definition, a revolutionary act that gave voice to the formerly colonized and now liberated people. In the actions of this literary community, as men and women worked toward the same educational goals, we see the birth of a truly independent Latin American literature.

The Peruvian altiplano, a high plateau around Lake Titicaca, is known for its breathtaking landscapes and the cultivation of commodities like quinoa and alpaca wool. The region also stands out for its history of inter-Indigenous language contact and multilingualism between Quechua- and Aymara-speaking communities. This linguistic ecology predates the Spanish conquest and persists today, making the altiplano, with its capital, Puno, a unique space where Indigenous multiplicity is recognized and celebrated. Yet this celebration is accompanied by additional ideological challenges around defining Quechua and Aymara as distinct Indigenous languages and ethnic groups.

Anthropologist Sandhya Krittika Narayanan begins with these challenges, and asks: What does it mean to be a Quechua or Aymara speaker in Puno today? What does it mean to be an Indigenous ethnic Quechua or Aymara individual?

Mother Tongues of the High Andes opens with these questions, exploring what Quechua and Aymara languages and identities mean for Indigenous puneños as they navigate their past and present. Narayanan argues that understanding inter-Indigenous linguistic and social differences involves examining Indigenous gender roles, responsibilities, and linguistic practices, particularly those of Indigenous puneña women. She shows how these practices have contributed to the maintenance of Indigenous multilingualism and continuity in local modes of understanding Indigenous identity and difference.

Even as ideologies around Indigenous identity and linguistic practices shift due to global discourses on Indigenous ethnic identity and nationalism, Indigenous women continue to play a crucial role, promoting new ways to speak and think about Quechua and Aymara linguistic differences, making the Indigenous roots and histories of Puno recognizable to a global audience. Through a comprehensive ethnographic exploration of gender, language, and Indigenous difference, Narayanan shows how the linguistic and social practices of Indigenous puneña women both contest and reaffirm competing visions of Quechua and Aymara linguistic identity and authority. 

A study of the ancient practice of Andean head shaping and its cultural connotations.

In the late sixteenth century, Spanish conquerors in Peru’s Colca Valley encountered the Collaguas and Cavanas, Indigenous people who undertook a striking form of body modification: Collaguas bound the heads of infants and children so that their skulls grew narrow and elongated, and Cavanas so that their skulls became wide and squat. Head shaping resulted in craniums that resembled two specific mountains associated with the groups. For Europeans, shaped skulls immediately and durably became a marker of territorialized ethnic difference.

The Mountain Embodied offers a more nuanced story. Having studied hundreds of samples of human remains, bioarchaeologist Matthew Velasco argues that reducing head shape to a mere ethnic marker is a colonial invention. Instead, the social significance of head shaping was protean and intersected with other structures of difference, such as gender, kinship, and status, influencing experience within the community. Head shaping, then, was one factor in the construction of a locally embedded kind of subjectivity. An outsider could deduce group identity from head shape, but for practitioners, head shaping reflected something else: nothing less than personhood itself.