64 Books Like From Migrant to Acadian

Faragher’s book created quite a stir when it came out in 2005, especially among Acadians. For here was an author who had no Acadian roots who saw the tragedy of the Acadian Deportation from the perspective of their ancestors. The history recounted in the book provides rich details on how and why in 1755 troops from New England sought to carry out their "great and noble scheme" of expelling 18,000 French-speaking Acadians ("the neutral French") from Nova Scotia. The removals would last eight years with thousands of Acadians forcibly relocated, a large number died, families often separated, and others going into hiding in forests. Faragher tells the story with a strong, highly readable narrative.

As the title proclaims, this is a book about one particular Acadian Deportation, that from Prince Edward Island. It occurred three years after the first wave in 1755, and it had France not the Anglo-American colonies as the destination. It was largest of all the different forcible Acadian removals, and nearly half of those sent to France perished due to shipboard illnesses and shipwrecks. Lockerby undertook meticulous research and summarizes it in this book. Before this publication came out—and there is a French-language version as well—this chapter in the saga of the Acadian people had been little and poorly understood. The headquarters for this mass deportation was the Canadian national historic site of Skmaqn—Port-la-Joye—Fort Amherst, which happens to be the focus of my next book, Ancient Land, New Land.

This book offers a personalized, non-academic look at what it means for one Acadian to be part of the collective Acadian community. The author traces his family history all the way back to the time of the Acadian Expulsion and beyond. That ancestor was Joseph LeBlanc (Tyler's great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather). With descendants scattered across modern-day Nova Scotia and Prince Edward Island, the LeBlancs provide a window into the diverse fates that awaited the Acadians when they were expelled from their Acadian homeland. Some escaped the deportation; others were deported and later returned to the region, but not to same areas as those had been taken over by new settlers. In sum, the book is biographical approach to the history of the Expulsion.

It comes as a surprise to many, but no Acadians were deported to Louisiana. It was a French colony in 1755, and those making the decisions about where the deportees were to go did not want to strengthen any French colony. They chose the Anglo-American colonies so there could be assimilation. The reason so many Acadians—renamed Cajuns—ended up in Louisiana was because of later migrations; voluntary migrations, not forced deportations. This book examines the growth, evolution, and political involvement of Louisiana's large Acadian community between the time of the Louisiana Purchase in 1803 and 1877, the end of Reconstruction in Louisiana. It’s a study that offers a good introduction to the Acadians (Cajuns) of that state.

This book is an eye-opening account of how the history of Nova Scotia became distorted in the interest of attracting tourists. This manufactured history exalts whiteness and masculinity, and quietly excludes ethnic minorities and women. The Yarmouth runestone, which is adduced as evidence that the Norse landed in Yarmouth, is an important artefact in this ideological history, and the authors give an excellent account of its history and its place in tourist history. 

In both English and French, Georges Arsenault has written many books on different aspects of the Acadian history of PEI. This 2019 book is the author’s most recent (French title: Histoire illustrée de l’Acadie de l’Ile-du-Prince-Édouard). It’s aimed at general interest readers and provides an overview of the three centuries of French and Acadian presence on the Island since 1720. Topics addressed include the early settlement period, the mass deportation in 1758, and the subsequent resettlement by Acadians. The author also looks at the role of the Catholic Church, French-language education, the economic changes across time, and the struggles to ensure a vibrant French-speaking Acadian culture on the Island.

Though published more than 60 years ago—and therefore a little dated—this study remains highly useful. Clark opens with the Island’s natural geography and then looks at how its resources were used by the Mi’kmaq and subsequent settlers of Acadian, Scottish, Irish, Loyalist, and English backgrounds. The book’s 155 maps and 16 tables illustrate the distribution of the population by area and origin over time and the evolution in crops and livestock from the early 18th to the mid-20th centuries. Readers wanting more recent historical and geographical essays should check out Time and a Place, An Environmental History of Prince Edward Island (2016), with articles by a dozen scholars. As for PEI’s geology, check out John Calder, Island at the Centre of the World.

This book taught me how the idea of “Hispanic” as a group was constructed—not as a natural category but as a deliberate effort by activists, bureaucrats, and the media. Cristina Mora’s research shows how power and influence created this category, challenging the assumption that commonality binds this group together.

Reading it helped me see that the creation of the Hispanic category is both intentional and ongoing, which deeply influenced how I think about race and racialization in my own work. If you’ve ever wondered how racial and ethnic categories come to be, this book is a must-read. It’s a powerful reminder that categories are not fixed but shaped by history, politics, and power.

Although I’m not a big fan of memoir, I’m a big fan of this one. 

Amini’s struggles as the Persian Jewish daughter of immigrants to America looks through a window that most Americans never see. Her parents reflect the reality of Iran and its challenges to young girls with culture as a primary obstacle, culture that often feels restrictive and anachronistic in the United States.  

What spoke to me the most was Amini’s two older brothers who stepped in to fill in the glaring parenting gaps, nurturing her through coming of age in a way her parents couldn’t or wouldn’t. Although at times the reader might feel trapped in Amini’s head and heart, the ethos is absolutely proper to the memoir. Without it, the full message is lost, and the incredible triumph of her success loses context. 

This book, published in 2010, focuses on a much-neglected dimension of Marx’s work—his writings in defense of anti-colonial movements in Ireland, India, China, and elsewhere as well as his support for anti-racist movements in the U.S.

In contrast to claims that Marx was a class reductionist whose body of thought was incapable of accounting for issues of race and ethnicity, this work shows how he overcome many of the Eurocentric biases found in his earliest writings as he engaged in a systematic study of the non-Western world in the last decades of his life.

This a book that will change your view of what Marx was about from top to bottom.