accounts rather than strictly philosophical works, such as the writings of Montaigne.
The vast majority of sources examined in this book are available in English translation, and I have typically cited these versions for the ease of the reader and because of their widespread availability. The texts were originally composed in a range of languages, including French, German, Latin, Spanish, Italian, Greek, Old English, and Portuguese. I consulted original sources whenever possible, but for those texts in Greek, Portuguese, Old English, Italian, and German I was forced to rely exclusively on available translations. The translations were selected based on both publication date and widespread acceptance. For most of the sources that I read in translation only, I consulted several different versions. For example, Michele Cuneo’s essay discussed in chapter 2 was originally written in Italian, and the available English translations vary slightly. This was particularly noticeable in the translation of the phrase “una Camballa belissima,” which is variously translated as a gorgeous or beautiful, cannibal or Carib, woman or girl. Such choices obviously impact the interpretation of this key passage. Most translations use “gorgeous cannibal woman,” and as such I have chosen to do the same. While the use of translations undoubtedly impacts my interpretation of the sources, care was taken to ensure that the impact was as limited as possible.
Sources on cannibalism are not evenly distributed across empires. The Spanish records are by far the most extensive and are particularly strong on cannibalism in sixteenth-century Mexico. French sources yield a reasonable amount of information, and the records of Jesuit missionaries in the Great Lakes region are especially robust. English sources, however, are far more difficult to come by. These disparities in the historical record speak not only to the differences among the Native peoples encountered but also to the priorities of empire and the period in which considerable intervention occurred. Large-scale English efforts, for instance, occurred much later on the Atlantic seaboard and overall were far less interested in incorporating Native peoples into the Anglo-American world.
The chapters that follow are organized in chronological order, but each also explores the discourse of cannibalism from a specific subject position within an imperial and geographic context. For example, in the case of the French Empire in the Americas, I focus on the writings of Jesuit missionaries in Canada. The limited perspective of the Jesuits cannot be easily extrapolated to make conclusions about the French Empire writ large, but the uniqueness of the encounters between Catholic priests and the Iroquois can provide insight into the relationship between religion, the discourse of cannibalism, and imperial power. In this way no one chapter fully represents the discourse of cannibalism from the position of empire; rather together they speak to the ways in which the discourse of cannibalism was fundamental to the establishment and maintenance of European imperial power, in all of its manifestations, in North America.
The first chapter, “Inventing Cannibals,” provides an overview of the classical and medieval discourses of man-eating. Drawing from authors such as Herodotus, Pliny, Isidore of Seville, and Marco Polo, I demonstrate the place of anthropophagy within the literature of monstrosity and travel writing, as well as the role of cannibalism in the construction of Otherness. Ultimately I elucidate the intellectual heritage of European travelers to the Americas in order to shed light on the biases, heuristics, and preconceptions that they brought with them to the New World.
Chapter 2, “Discovering Cannibals,” investigates the emergence of the idea of the cannibal in the writings of European explorers of the Caribbean. Beginning with Christopher Columbus and continuing through to Amerigo Vespucci, I establish the development of the idea of cannibalism, as opposed to anthropophagy. The encounter between European men, who hailed from a variety of homelands, and the Caribs and the Arawaks was fundamental in creating the discourse of cannibalism. These encounters did not happen in a vacuum, and these writers drew explicitly from medieval and classical ideas. However, they also radically reshaped the power of the discourse of cannibalism. Furthermore in these writings the discourse of cannibalism was gendered based on preexisting understandings of gender, sexuality, and monstrosity. In these accounts European men expressed great fear about the cannibalistic appetites of Carib women, which reflected their fear of the unknown and its feminine nature.
In the context of the conquest of Mexico explored in chapter 3, the conquistadors expressed much less fear of the anthropophagous appetites of the women they encountered. They used accusations of cannibalism to justify their conquest of the Aztecs and to further the establishment of the superiority of Spanish masculinity. The descriptions of horrific sacrifices and cannibalism practiced by the Aztecs enabled Hernán Cortés and his men to argue for the superiority of Spanish civilization. Additionally, continuing a practice established in the Caribbean, these men connected cannibalism with savagery and assumed that people who practiced man-eating were also prone to sexual indiscretions. By calling them cannibals, they made the bodies of the Aztecs ripe for conquest. This conquest took place on the battlefield, but also in the bedroom. Cortés was the prototypical masculine imperial hero who exploited the bodies and labor of the Native women he encountered. His successes not only portended the erasure of the “abominable” customs of cannibalism and sacrifice among the Aztecs but helped to establish a stratified society in which power was masculine and women’s participation in political matters was voided.
Chapter 4 focuses on the discourse of cannibalism in New France, specifically through the documents of the Jesuit Relations. Unlike Cortés, Columbus, or Vespucci, the Jesuit missionaries did not arrive in North America desirous of the bodies of its inhabitants; they sought souls instead. As an avowedly celibate order, the Jesuits sought to prove their masculinity by enduring the trials of the wilderness and the cruelties perpetrated by the Indians, particularly the Iroquois. Their accounts of martyrdom and cannibalization at the hands of their potential converts not only drew more dedicated missionaries to Canada but also reiterated the seriousness and importance of their cause. The goals of the French Empire were less clearly articulated than their English and Spanish neighbors, and their settlements in the Americas were typically smaller and more distant from one another. The French sought to first establish economic relations with the Indians in order to profit rather than fully conquering and dominating the land and peoples. Thus the accusations of cannibalism in the Jesuit Relations spurred religious interest in the peoples of Canada rather than inspiring full-scale conquest.
Chapter 5 examines the discourse of cannibalism in the English Empire, focusing particularly on New England. Captivity narratives provide the richest source of references to cannibalism; however, English writers were far less preoccupied than the French and Spanish with man-eating in general. I argue that this is due to the legacies of Spanish and French efforts, the practices of the Native groups they encountered, and the particular goals of English colonization. The English were much less interested than the French or the Spanish in making space for Indians in their new empire. Captivity narratives demonstrate that discussions of cannibalism reinforced the development of a new understanding of Anglo-American masculinity that defined itself against the wilderness and its inhabitants. The ability to endure the threat of cannibalism and other trials at the hand of the Indians allowed the English to justify their presence in the Americas and assert their power over the lands and its people.
1. Inventing Cannibals: Classical and Medieval Traditions
In a famous and gruesome tale from ancient Mediterranean mythology, the god Kronos (Saturn in the Roman incarnation) swallowed his children out of fear that he would lose his power at the hands of his son, as had been prophesied by his parents. Prior to eating his offspring, he had also castrated his father, Uranus, in a fit of jealous rage. After watching Kronos consume all but one of their children, Kronos’s sister-wife, Rhea, tricked him into eating a stone instead of their son Zeus. Later, as predicted, Zeus took revenge on his father and freed his brothers and sisters from Kronos’s body.1 Thus from acts of castration and cannibalism the leader of the Olympic Pantheon rose to power. Centuries later, in the 1820s, the Spanish artist Francisco Goya would memorialize this fateful event in the painting Saturn Devouring His Son. This story is only one of many mythological tales of cannibalism that have lasted the ages.
While
