The moment of contact between two peoples, two alien societies, marks the opening of an epoch and the joining of histories. What if it had happened differently? The stories that indigenous peoples and Europeans tell about their first encounters with one another are enormously valuable historical records, but their relevance extends beyond the past. Settler populations and indigenous peoples the world over are engaged in negotiations over legitimacy, power, and rights. These struggles cannot be dissociated from written and oral accounts of "contact" moments, which not only shape our collective sense of history but also guide our understanding of current events. For all their importance, contact stories have not been systematically or critically evaluated as a genre. Myth and Memory explores the narratives of indigenous and newcomer populations from New Zealand and across North America, from the Lost Colony of Roanoke on the Atlantic seaboard of the United States to the Pacific Northwest and as far as Sitka, Alaska. It illustrates how indigenous and explorer accounts of the same meetings reflect fundamentally different systems of thought, and focuses on the cultural misunderstandings embedded in these stories. The contributors discuss the contemporary relevance, production, and performance of Aboriginal and European contact narratives, and introduce new tools for interpreting the genre. They argue that we are still in the contact zone, striving to understand the meaning of contact and the relationship between indigenous and settler populations.

This book examines the relationship of the Australian colonies with Britain and Empire in the late nineteenth century, and looks at the first murmurings of Australian nationalism. It is the first detailed study of the formative period 1880-1900. The book argues that many of the features of the British Empire at this time can be seen in the British-Australian connection. Luke Trainor shows that the interests of British imperialism were greatly advanced in Australia in the 1880s because of the increased involvement of British capital in Australia. And while British imperialism tolerated some Australian nationalism, this nationalism was highly masculine in character, was based on dispossession of the Aborigines and encouraged sub-imperialism in the Pacific. As we approach the centenary of the Australian Constitution and debate about an Australian republic becomes more heated, this book is a timely re-examination of the colonial character of Australia's federation and Australia's incorporation into an imperial framework.

In 1961, John F. Kennedy referred to the Papuans as "living, as it were, in the Stone Age." For the most part, politicians and scholars have since learned not to call people "primitive," but when it comes to the Papuans, the Stone-Age stain persists and for decades has been used to justify denying their basic rights. Why has this fantasy held such a tight grip on the imagination of journalists, policy-makers, and the public at large? Living in the Stone Age answers this question by following the adventures of officials sent to the New Guinea highlands in the 1930s to establish a foothold for Dutch colonialism. These officials became deeply dependent on the good graces of their would-be Papuan subjects, who were their hosts, guides, and, in some cases, friends. Danilyn Rutherford shows how, to preserve their sense of racial superiority, these officials imagined that they were traveling in the Stone Age--a parallel reality where their own impotence was a reasonable response to otherworldly conditions rather than a sign of ignorance or weakness. Thus, Rutherford shows, was born a colonialist ideology. Living in the Stone Age is a call to write the history of colonialism differently, as a tale of weakness not strength. It will change the way readers think about cultural contact, colonial fantasies of domination, and the role of anthropology in the postcolonial world.

Stories and yarns about my favourite bits of Down Under Paul Hogan's ancestors were a couple of Irish blow-ins who arrived in the colony of New South Wales by boat, with a little assistance from the judges of the Old Bailey. Blow-ins from everywhere have been coming ever since, and while it hasn't always been a walk in the park, Hoges reckons this mixed-up mob of old and new inhabitants works most of the time. In fact, according to Hoges, Australia may well be the best country on earth. In Australia, According to Hoges, the comedy legend explores some of the highways and byways of his country's past and present to map out all that is strange, marvellous and majestic about his homeland and why Australia qualifies as the Eighth Wonder of the World. From the rich and ancient culture of the island continent's Original human inhabitants to its prison-farm phase, from a baptism by fire through wars and depression to a passion for sport, gambling and outdoor cookery, and from the influence of Marlon Brando on a teenager from Sydney's western suburbs to the culinary wonders brought by new arrivals from all around the world, Hoges portrays a nation that believes in a fair go for all and never takes itself too seriously. Full of laugh-out-loud yarns from Hoges' and the nation's past, Australia, According to Hoges is a love letter to Down Under. As Hoges says, 'We're not perfect, but we're working on it.'