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Japan has maintained rather intense contact with various parts of Latin America, previously through migration and recently through economic relations. Japanese scholarly production about Latin America, however, has never matched that contact. Although thousands of technical reports, travelogues, and general books on Latin America have been produced in Japan, scholarly works of value have been scarce. There are, however, a few works researched and written by Japanese, both in Japan and in overseas Japanese communities, that could contribute to, or at least add new source materials to, the study of Latin America; they are relatively unknown to foreign scholars, mainly because of the barrier presented by the Japanese language.
This study offers a definition of preemptive reform, applies the concept to Mexico in the 1970s, describes the reaction of one target group of the Mexican reform effort, and develops a preliminary explanatory model of reactions to preemptive reform. Because preemptive reform has been an important element in Mexican politics, it is especially appropriate to examine the concept as it applies to the Mexican case. However, preemptive reform has been attempted elsewhere and these results may interest others who would seek to understand the phenomenon in a variety of settings.
Establishing Boundaries for Spanish West Florida is No Simple Matter. Under consideration is not the entire province of Spanish West Florida stretching to the Mississippi but the smaller region bounded on the west by the Perdido River, the Suwannee River on the east, the Gulf of Mexico on the south, and the uncertain boundary with the United States on the north. Pensacola and San Marcos are two principal settlements, and this area approximates the western panhandle of the present-day state of Florida. When Spain acquired West Florida in 1783 the British boundary was the Apalachicola River, but Spain in 1785 moved it eastward to the the Suwanee River. (Few maps indicate this eastward shift.) The purpose of making the Suwannee River the eastern boundary was to transfer San Marcos and the province of Apalachee from East Florida to West Florida. After the 1795 Pinckney Treaty Spain and the United States agreed that the northern boundary was the thirty-first parallel west from the Chattahoochee River and the parallel intersecting the Flint and Chattahoochee rivers running eastward. Until after the Pinckney Treaty went into effect in the late 1790s, Spanish West Florida's northern boundary was indefinite. Spain regarded the Yazoo parallel, the Tennessee, Cumberland, or even Ohio rivers as the northern limit. This meant that for well over a decade Spain considered the western part of Georgia, the eastern part of Alabama, along with bits of Tennessee and North Carolina, as part of West Florida.
Se ha dado en llamar “novela de la violencia” en la literatura colombiana, a toda aquella producción novelística que refleja la situación sociopolítica de Colombia durante las décadas del cuarenta y del cincuenta. En este período el país se vio envuelto en una serie de luchas internas que afectaron profundamente la situación socioeconómica de Colombia, especialmente en lo que se refiere a la población campesina.
The past eleven years have been extremely fruitful for Chilean specialists. Various scholars have formulated theories to explain Chile's political, social, and economic development; new monographs as well as doctoral dissertations have provided grist for the generalist's mill; and studies on mining—particularly the nitrate sector—agriculture, the role of labor, and more detailed political surveys have been published. Increasingly, one notes a tendency to undertake projects that will investigate twentieth-century topics. This essay reviews some of the recent contributions to Chile's already rich historiography and attempts to include material from other disciplines as well as history. It will not, however, discuss the Allende period, whose massive and still growing literature requires separate treatment. Those interested in this topic might profitably consult the recent work of Arturo and Samuel Valenzuela, “Visions of Chile” (LARR 10, no. 3 [1975]:155–75).
A great deal has been written about José Martí as poet, patriot, and essayist. Much of his life and work has, however, remained almost completely ignored; by some, denied. Relatively little is known about his personal life except that he was Cuban, which for most has been sufficient. But recent research casts fascinating light on his little-known fondness for baccarat, his secret dream of acquiring a Caribbean monopoly of Thom McAn shoe franchises, and his tendency to walk into closed doors. Though all this information is useful and interesting, there has persisted yet another oversight in Martí scholarship, one which has led to an altogether unwarranted and almost totally inaccurate image of him as an inspired but rather inept artist of verse.
Detailed analyses of ancient stone tools, or lithic analyses, were performed by archaeologists as early as the second half of the nineteenth century in Europe, the Near East, and North America. However, it was not until the past thirty years that lithic analysis became a standard part of prehistoric research in Mesoamerica. The reasons for this belated beginning involve the dominant humanities-art history orientation toward much of Mesoamerican archaeology prior to the 1960s; the extraordinary richness, complexity, and accessibility of other cultural components (particularly architecture, hieroglyphics, ceramics, and sculpture); and the lack of quantitative dating techniques. The paucity of reliable dating techniques until quite recently led archaeologists into elaborate attempts to date the past by using a variety of subjective ordering techniques. It is therefore not surprising that, prior to the last ten years, most Mesoamerican lithic analyses had as their major objective the isolation of chronologically significant classes. These were discovered and defined at both the typological and the attribute (or modal) level of classification.