First published in Paris in 1834, Journey to the United States of America / Viaje a los Estados Unidos del Norte América, by Lorenzo de Zavala, is an elegantly written travel narrative that maps de Zavala's journey through the United States during his exile from Mexico in 1830. Embracing U.S., Texas, and Mexican history; early ethnography; geography; and political philosophy, de Zavala outlines the cultural and political institutions of Jacksonian America and post-independence Mexico. de Zavala's commentary rivals Alex de Tocqueville's classic travel narrative, Democracy in America, which was published in Paris one year after de Zavala's. The narrative presents the first account of U.S. political culture from a Mexican point of view and constructs the first comparative political and historical framework for the relationship between Mexico and the United States. In passionate prose, de Zavala argues for the incorporation of the true democratic ideals of the enlightenment in the fledgling Republic of Texas. He hoped Texas would meld the best of both Mexican and American cultures. de Zavala believed that if his colleagues who helped frame the Texas Constitution understood the complexities of democracy and the ideals that their state could achieve through a liberal, federal government that gave equal rights to all of its constituents: Native Americans, Mexicans, Euro-Americans, and free African Americans. The original text is accompanied by eight pages of maps and historical photos, John-Michael Rivera's critical introduction, and an English translation based upon Wallace Woolsey's deft translation, expanded and revised for the purposes of this volume.

Emphasizing the role of travel and migration in the performance and transformation of identity, this volume addresses representations of travel, mobility, and migration in 19th–21st-century travel writing, literature, and media texts. In so doing, the book analyses the role of the various cultural, ethnic, gender, and national encounters pertinent to narratives of travel and migration in transforming and problematizing the identities of both the travelers and "travelees" enacting in the borderzones between cultures. While the individual essays by scholars from a wide range of countries deal with a variety of case studies from various historical, spatial, and cultural locations, they share a strong central interest in the ways in which the narratives of travel contribute to the imagining of ethnic encounters and how they have acted as sites of transformation and transculturation from the early nineteenth century to the present day. In addition to discussing textual representations of travel and migration, the volume also addresses the ways in which cultural texts themselves travel and are reconstructed in various cultural settings. The analyses are particularly attentive to the issues of globalization and migration, which provide a general frame for interpretation. What distinguishes the volume from existing books is its concern with travel and migration as ways of forging transcultural identities that are able to subvert existing categorizations and binary models of identity formation. In so doing, it pays particular attention to the performance of identity in various spaces of cultural encounter, ranging from North America to the East of Europe, putting particular emphasis on the representation of intercultural and ethnic encounters.

Forgotten Futures, Colonized Pasts traces the existence of forgotten histories of inter-American alliance-making, transnational community formation, and intercultural collaboration between Mexican and Anglo American elites. Using close readings of literary texts, including novels, diaries, letters, newspapers, political essays, and travel narratives produced by nineteenth-century writers throughout Greater Mexico, Kinnally brings to light how elite Mexicans and Mexican Americans defined themselves and their relationship with Spain, Mexico, the United States, and Anglo America in the nineteenth century.

The election of Barack Obama as the 44th president of the United States has opened a new chapter in the country’s long and often tortured history of inter-racial and inter-ethnic relations. Many relished in the inauguration of the country’s first African American president — an event foreseen by another White House aspirant, Senator Robert Kennedy, four decades earlier. What could have only been categorized as a dream in the wake of Brown vs. Board of Education was now a reality. Some dared to contemplate a post-racial America. Still, soon after Obama’s election a small but persistent faction questioned his eligibility to hold office; they insisted that Obama was foreign-born. Following the Civil Rights battles of the 20th century hate speech, at least in public, is no longer as free flowing as it had been. Perhaps xenophobia, in a land of immigrants, is the new rhetorical device to assail what which is non-white and hence un-American. Furthermore, recent debates about immigration and racial profiling in Arizona along with the battle over rewriting of history and civics textbooks in Texas suggest that a post-racial America is a long way off. What roles do race, ethnicity, ancestry, immigration status, locus of birth play in the public and private conversations that defy and reinforce existing conceptions of what it means to be American? This book exposes the changing and persistent notions of American identity in the age of Obama. Amílcar Antonio Barreto, Richard L. O’Bryant, and an outstanding line up of contributors examine Obama’s election and reelection as watershed phenomena that will be exploited by the president’s supporters and detractors to engage in different forms of narrating the American national saga. Despite the potential for major changes in rhetorical mythmaking, they question whether American society has changed substantively.

For many Spanish Americans in the early nineteenth century, Philadelphia was Filadelfia, a symbol of republican government for the Americas and the most important Spanish-language print center in the early United States. In Letters from Filadelfia, Rodrigo Lazo opens a window into Spanish-language writing produced by Spanish American exiles, travelers, and immigrants who settled and passed through Philadelphia during this vibrant era, when the city’s printing presses offered a vehicle for the voices advocating independence in the shadow of Spanish colonialism. The first book-length study of Philadelphia publications by intellectuals such as Vicente Rocafuerte, José María Heredia, Manuel Torres, Juan Germán Roscio, and Servando Teresa de Mier, Letters from Filadelfia offers an approach to discussing their work as part of early Latino literature and the way in which it connects to the United States and other parts of the Americas. Lazo’s book is an important contribution to the complex history of the United States’ first capital. More than the foundation for the U.S. nation-state, Philadelphia reached far beyond its city limits and, as considered here, suggests new ways to conceptualize what it means to be American.

The 1848 Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, which transferred more than a third of Mexico’s territory to the United States, deferred full U.S. citizenship for Mexican Americans but promised, “in the mean time,” to protect their property and liberty. Erin Murrah-Mandril demonstrates that the U.S. government deployed a colonization of time in the Southwest to insure political and economic underdevelopment in the region and to justify excluding Mexican Americans from narratives of U.S. progress. In In the Mean Time, Murrah-Mandril contends that Mexican American authors challenged modern conceptions of empty, homogenous, linear, and progressive time to contest U.S. colonization. Taking a cue from Latina/o and borderlands spatial theories, Murrah-Mandril argues that time, like space, is a socially constructed, ideologically charged medium of power in the Southwest. In the Mean Time draws on literature, autobiography, political documents, and historical narratives composed between 1870 and 1940 to examine the way U.S. colonization altered time in the borderlands. Rather than reinforce the colonial time structure, early Mexican American authors exploited the internal contradictions of Manifest Destiny and U.S. progress to resist domination and situate themselves within the shifting political, economic, and historical present. Read as decolonial narratives, the Mexican American cultural productions examined in this book also offer a new way of understanding Latina/o literary history.