Which Way West?

For centuries, Americans have been conditioned to "look" West and "think" West. Explorers of the "New World" sought treasures by pushing westward into the unknown interior or seeking a means to traverse the West to reach the riches of the (Far) East. Colonial and national leaders gazed at the vast westward expanse with a mix of wonder at its boundless opportunities and fears about their ability to control land and people. Generations of settlers, migrants, and former slaves based their American dreams upon the chance for a fresh start further west. Untold thousands of Native Americans, often with little choice, hoped to find refuge and cultural preservation there. Even in today's era of mass foreclosures, municipal bankruptcies, and budget crises, the lure of pulling up stakes and heading west remains for many Americans. The West was long pictured in the dominant American imagination as a providential blank slate awaiting the arrival of progress and civilization. Frederick Jackson Turner's famous articulation of this westward march held sway in scholarship for decades, only to be challenged later in the last century by interpretations that shifted the focus to incorporate the people and cultures already entrenched on the land and the processes of exchange and conflict that defined it. Throughout it all, there remains a sense that understanding America's West—as a place, a process, a dream, or a tragedy—is critical to understanding America.

For many scholars of the American experience, then, be they historians of the colonial era or the twenty-first century nation, the imperative to "look" and "think" West continues. Turner's model has been left behind but not eradicated. With the continuing impact of the "New West" school's emphases on environment and cultural collisions—and two decades of the cottage industry that has sprouted up around the use of the phrase "Middle Ground"—the scope and terminology of Richard White's seminal 1991 study of the Great Lakes region are both critical and contestable. Terms like "frontier" and "borderland"—and even "West" itself—are charged with layers of meaning that cannot be ignored; and the very act of deciding what is or is not the "West" requires far more than consulting a map. For some, the West is a place, either static or shifting; for others, it is a state of mind that is inherent to the American consciousness; for many, it is a confounding mix of both. The essential nature of the questions raised by the subject matter and the lack of consensus on how to approach it can lead to strange bedfellows in historiography—and book reviews.

The four books under consideration here may, at first blush, indicate little reason to share space in a single review. After all, their coverage ranges from the seventeenth-century French exploration of the upper Mississippi Valley to the devastating 2010 Gulf of Mexico oil spill in the mighty river's outlet, with stops in territorial-era St. Louis, the post-Civil War Texas Panhandle, and the modern Atlanta metroplex, to name but a few. The significant differences remain apparent when summarizing the authors, intended audiences, and styles: The Wisconsin Frontier is a narrative account aimed at a popular readership by an emeritus professor and Badger State native; Where the West Begins is a slim volume on Texas' multiple regional identities by a historian dedicated to promoting the Lone Star State's past (see www.texashistory.com); Sunbelt Rising is an essay collection from a diverse group...