Offers a fascinating window into how the fraught politics of apology in the East Asian region have been figured in anglophone literary fiction. The Pacific War, 1941-1945, was fought across the world’s largest ocean and left a lasting imprint on anglophone literary history. However, studies of that imprint or of individual authors have focused on American literature without drawing connections to parallel traditions elsewhere. Beyond Hostile Islands contributes to ongoing efforts by Australasian scholars to place their national cultures in conversation with those of the United States, particularly regarding studies of the ideologies that legitimize warfare. Consecutively, the book examines five of the most significant historical and thematic areas associated with the war: island combat, economic competition, internment, imprisonment, and the atomic bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Throughout, the central issue pivots around the question of how or whether at all New Zealand fiction writing differs from that of the United States. Can a sense of islandness, the ‘tyranny of distance,’ Māori cultural heritage, or the political legacies of the nuclear-free movement provide grounds for distinctive authorial insights? As an opening gambit, Beyond Hostile Islands puts forward the term ‘ideological coproduction’ to describe how a territorially and demographically more minor national culture may accede to the essentials of a given ideology while differing in aspects that reflect historical and provincial dimensions that are important to it. Appropriately, the literary texts under examination are set in various locales, including Japan, the Solomon Islands, New Zealand, New Mexico, Ontario, and the Marshall Islands. The book concludes in a deliberately open-ended pose, with the full expectation that literary writing on the Pacific War will grow in range and richness, aided by the growth of Pacific Studies as a research area.

In 58 B. C. Rome was the superpower of the Mediterranean world, and in that year Julius Caesar took up the governorship of the Roman Province in southern France or Gaul, as it was then called. The Roman Senate expected Caesar to govern the province, extract a reasonable amount of revenue, and guard the frontier against incursion by the many Gaulish tribes to the north. Caesar had something else in mind -- the conquest of all Gaul. Within two years he deftly employed his legions to inflict a series of catastrophic defeats upon the Gauls and occupied the eastern half of the country. He then put his troops into winter quarters, sending a single legion under its commander, Publius Crassus, west into Brittany with orders to take hostages to keep the peace. Crassus took the hostages but could not keep the peace. The fiercely independent tribes led by the Veneti bitterly resented giving hostages to Rome. At their first opportunity they seized Roman officers as hostages, then demanded return of their own hostages in exchange. When Publius Crassus rejected their demands, the Gauls revolted. The Fourth Part of Gaul is the story of that revolt as experienced by Marcus Brutus Pontus, a young tribune and staff officer, one of the hostages taken by the Gauls. His captors place the inquisitive young officer in the hands of a Veneti magistrate for safekeeping. This assignment insures him a unique position from which to view the spread of the insurrection and the huge naval battle between the Gaulish sailing fleet and Caesar's Roman galleys. Marcus narrowly escapes death during the catastrophic defeat of the Gauls. In the aftermath of the battle, many Gauls fleeing Caesar's wrath sail for Britain, while a small party of five ships crammed with families and soldiers sails west on the Atlantic. Led by a Greek pilot, they follow a long forgotten Carthaginian trade route taking with them their captive tribune. In the course of the long voyage, Marcus learns to navigate and handle the ship. His developing relationship with the sister of the expedition's leader involves him increasingly in the struggle of the expedition to survive the frigid winter and treacherous attack on their settlement at the mouth of the Connecticut River. By spring the Gaulish leaders come to see their Roman hostage as the essential key to their survival in the hostile environment of the new land. They themselves have become uniquely dependent on the hostage they have taken.

Virtually nothing has ever been written about life in Down Street while much has been written about Up Street St. Thomas because government and business offi ces were and still are dominant in that area of the town. Much took place in the Down Street area, especially in the distillation of rum which brought millions of federal tax revenue into the Treasury of the Government of the Virgin Islands. The first ever luxury hotel in the territory was built in Estate John Dunko, below Down Street and employed over 200 persons during its construction period and generated a $7000 weekly payroll. Th ere are many professional persons who hail from the area.

This volume arises from a major conference on issues of importance to the future of Taiwan and the region. With contributions by scholars from Taiwan and the West, the book is divided into sections on: political reform and development on Taiwan, Taiwan's changing political economy, social and environmental issues on Taiwan, Taiwan external relations and the future of Taiwan-PRC relations. Among the many issues addressed within this framework are the evolution of democracy, local politics, Taiwan and the international division of labour, the labour movement, environmentalism, international commercial links and the role of the United States in Taiwan-PRC relations.

Resource and environmental management generally entail an attempt by governing authorities to dominate, reroute, and tame the natural flows of water, the growth of forests, manage the populations of non-human bodies, and control nature more generally. Often this is done under the mantle of conservation, economic development, and sustainable management, but still involves a quest to “civilize” and control all aspects of nature for a specific purpose. The results of this form of environmental management and governance are many, but by and large, across the globe, it has meant governments construct a specific idea regarding nature and the environment. These forms of control also extend beyond the natural environment, allowing for particular methods of managing human and non-human populations in order to maintain power and enact sovereignty. This volume contributes to advancing an ‘ecology of freedom,’ which can critique current anthropocentric environmental destruction, as well as focusing on environmental justice and decentralized ecological governance. While concentrating on these areas of anarchist political ecology, three major themes emerged from the chapters: the legacies of colonialism that continue to echo in current resource management and governance practices, the necessity of overcoming human/nature dualisms for environmental justice and sustainability, and finally discussions and critiques of extractivism as a governing and economic mentality.

Land is embedded in a multitude of material and cultural contexts, through which the human experience of landscape emerges. Ethnographers, with their participative methodologies, long-term co-residence, and concern with the quotidian aspects of the places where they work, are well positioned to describe landscapes in this fullest of senses. The contributors explore how landscapes become known primarily through movement and journeying rather than stasis. Working across four continents, they explain how landscapes are constituted and recollected in the stories people tell of their journeys through them, and how, in turn, these stories are embedded in landscaped forms.