Books like State and Nation Making in Latin America and Spain — picked by fans

In this classic and pioneering study, Joseph Love traces how ideas about underdevelopment travelled from interwar Rumania to postwar Brazil, two peripheral regions united in their disenchantment with the promises of economic liberalism.

Household names like Mihail Manoilescu, Raúl Prebisch, and Celso Furtado come across as heirs to a long intellectual tradition connecting Russian Narodnik populism to Latin American dependency theory a century later.

These disparate historical actors were brought together by a shared concern with the obstacles to development posed by a world of structural economic and geopolitical inequalities, thus shining a spotlight on the conflicting interests between the West and the Rest.

A living illustration of the nexus between Rumania and Latin America in the field of political economy, this work is the English translation of a monograph written in Spanish by Popescu, a Rumanian economist who emigrated to Argentina after WWII.

Still unparalleled in scope, the book retraces the evolution of political economy in Spanish America since the early days of European domination in the continent, highlighting the dissemination of scholastic, physiocratic, and classical economic doctrines as well as their transformation in the hands of Latin Americans.

Tellingly, Raúl Prebisch does not occupy center stage, appearing instead as a simple epilogue to the long odyssey chronicled by Popescu.

Kathryn Sikkink brings a political science approach to the study of developmentalism as a policy framework in postwar Latin America.

Rather than rationalizing the ideology of development as the expression of interest group politics, the book interrogates the channels through which ideas find their way into institutional settings, and thence into political action. Contrasting the historical experiences of Brazil and Argentina, Sikkink shows how the same intellectual premises may lead to disparate results when put to work within different national settings.

Ideas do matter, but if they are to succeed, they need to find a hospitable institutional environment – which sheds light on both the possibilities and challenges faced by Latin American nations seeking to shape their own destiny.

The most recent entry on my list is already a landmark achievement.

Margarita Fajardo’s authoritative monograph places the UN’s Economic Commission for Latin America – the incubator for the cepalinos who successfully challenged the postwar consensus on developmental policy – into the broader geopolitical history of the 20th century. This richly detailed study retraces the emergence of an intellectual and political movement that channeled discontent with the structural biases inherent in the global economic order into a cogent agenda of political economy for the peripheries of capitalism.

It also reveals how the fragmentation of the fragile postwar liberal consensus, in both North and South, eventually pushed this movement toward the high-powered framework of dependency theory, and thence into anti-establishment activism across the world.

This book studies the anti-imperialist dialog between twentieth-century Latin American and Filipino intellectuals, writers, and diplomats who, in her view, appropriated brotherly discourses of Latinidad and Hispanidad as part of their resistance versus US imperialism. This book opened my eyes to the fact that, as late as the twentieth century, Filipino intellectuals still saw themselves as an intrinsic part of the Hispanic world and took for granted that it was beneficial for their country to keep a cultural and sociopolitical alliance with Latin America if they wanted to rid themselves of the new imperial yoke: the United States.

The great Mexican author Carlos Fuentes wrote this book as a commemorative reflection of an earlier quincentennial, that of 1492-1992. Fuentes’ book is transatlantic in scope and considers the fraught history of Hispanic heritage in the Americas. The title metaphorically employs the mirror—both of the kind fashioned from obsidian by the Aztecs and the one bringing the viewer into Diego Velázquez’s masterpiece of Spanish golden-age painting, Las Meninas—in reflecting on this mixed inheritance five centuries later. Cultural mixing, or mestizaje, defines the creation of Latin America and its millennial-deep roots in the exchange networks, migrations, political alliances, and colonialism on the part of Mesoamerican and Iberian peoples, on both sides of the Atlantic. Fuentes is a gifted writer and Buried Mirror is what first got me thinking about these historical entanglements when I read it as a college student.

The first reason to read this book is that the fight against slavery in the Americas is not just a US story about its famous abolitionists and Civil War. The bigger story about abolition and the forces that opposed it involves European powers like Spain that controlled more territory in the Americas and governed the lives of many millions more people than lived in the US and what became the US.

The second reason to read this book is that nineteenth-century Spain was divided between liberal forces that wanted to end enslavement and conservative forces that wanted to preserve “property rights” at all costs; and this led to dueling abolitionist and antiabolitionist discourses. We can learn from this history as today, our own country is increasingly divided between dueling discourses.

As a Latin American woman, a university professor, and a scholar, I have, at times, found myself having to prove my expertise, and Sor Juana’s book presents this same challenge in 17th-century Mexico (New Spain), giving me the strength to follow her example. Sor Juana fought for recognition in her lifetime, only later to become one of Latin America’s most important thinkers and writers, most notably for her challenges to patriarchal authority, both in her life and in her remarkable writings. In one of the texts of A Sor Juana Anthology, “Reply to Sor Filotea,” Sor Juana set forth a series of brilliant arguments for maintaining her intellectual space, which was threatened by the Church at that time. I recommend this book because it taught me how to reverse an argument intended against you, to transform it in your favor, and how to overturn the gender hierarchy, without… show more.

You think academics don’t have guts? You haven’t met Dana Frank.

She left her perfect little Santa Cruz campus behind to travel into the violent world of labor organizing in Central America. The fearless women she follows never give up as they take on American global corporations, corrupt politicians, ruthless landowners and bosses, and male chauvinism at home, on the job, and in the union.

Against great odds, the banana women forge a region-wide union of men and women committed to gender justice, economic fairness, and political democracy. Thank you Dana Frank for knowing this story had to be told – and for telling it with such flair and wisdom.

I don’t think Garcia Marquez needs a review or introduction. Reading any of his books is a pleasure, with easy and delightful writing and striking sentences.

These sentences often describe things or people in a way that feels natural and perfectly captured. For instance, he describes the world as so new that many things lack names. His eloquent descriptions, like that of ice, create vivid images. The characters are relatable, and you feel a happy exhaustion after finishing the book, reminiscent of great works like Steinbeck’s East of Eden.

Those who find the stories too unbelievable should learn about Colombian history, as they provide real context. I simply love the book!