Guide to Documentary Sources for Andean Studies, 1530-1900 (review)

Decades ago, the anthropologist John Murra conceived the concept of "the vertical archipelago" to underline the Incas' masterful linking of different ecological zones. He stressed how the Incas settled people in diverse altitudes and thus promoted the distribution of goods and extended their presence, if not control, from the Pacific Ocean, across the steep highlands, and toward the Amazon basin. Accepted and taught by many while questioned by others, the concept has had an important presence in Andeanist debates. I have always believed that the archipelago metaphor served well to describe Andean studies. Scholars—individuals, disciplines, or schools of thought—have created an impressive body of work, but its impact across disciplines or fields is somewhat limited. Linguists do not dialogue sufficiently with archeologists who do not work with historians who do not read anthropology, and so on. And far too many, including myself, do not speak Quechua, Aymara, or other indigenous languages. In addition, research on the Andes is published in a variety of languages (Spanish, English, and French are the top three), and, in perhaps the most telling indication of the atomized or decentralized nature of the field, it does not count on a single key journal or conference. Of course, there are exceptions, and some would celebrate this decentralization or atomization; but national and disciplinary borders are still unduly strong, and many subfields continue to be islands, albeit with good ferry service.

For students and newcomers this decentralization can be particularly bewildering. The ethnohistory literature is vast, and there are always more chronicles and secondary works to read. Many times I have pieced together information on a subject from several sources and then learned that an excellent summary was available. In searching for guidance or a short-cut, it is difficult to find material between the highly specialized and the oversimplified. In other words, if someone asks for background on the idolatry trials or the writer Bernabé Cobo, it is usually necessary to consult several books or articles, often in obscure journals. Excellent works of synthesis often do not reach a wide audience. This splendid three-volume guide resolves this problem. The contributors are top-notch, and the selection and depth are excellent. Andeanist scholars will turn to this set before finishing an article, preparing a lecture, or applying for research support, and undergraduates and nonspecialists can rely on it for background and guidance for further research.

Volume I contains twenty-nine essays on colonial and nineteenth-century sources on the Andes, archival and published. The first section covers chronicles, classical traditions, the quipuor the Incas' knotted mnemonic device, and indigenous texts, and the latter two discuss administrative and Church documents. In the first section, Sabine MacCormack's essay on the classical tradition summarizes much of her pathbreaking work in over forty pages, whereas some of the latter texts are brief archive guides. I liked all of them. The eleven essays on Church documents indicate just how decentralized or plural the Church and its record-keeping apparatus were, but they also show how fruitful the sources, such as the Jesuits' cartas anuas, can be. I would strongly recommend anyone embarking on research on the colonial Andes to read these essays carefully.

Volumes II and III provide extended overviews on key sources, particularly individuals. For example, the two entries under H are the Huarochirí Manuscript by Frank Salomon and Alexander von Humboldt by Michael Dettelbach. These are not minimalist encyclopedia texts but instead short essays written by specialists for a broad audience. They include a biographical note, commentary, texts or a bibliography, and references to secondary literature. I found the biographical notes a great help to clarify doubts for a lecture, while the bibliographies have led me to primary and secondary sources. Some of the commentaries are fascinating and highly riveting; others not so. In general, they read well...