Science of Folklore: Aurelio Espinosa on Spain and the American Southwest

http://www.jstor.org/stable/10.5406/jamerfolk.127.506.0448 .

Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of the Terms & Conditions of Use, available at .http://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp

.JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide range ofcontent in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and facilitate new formsof scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact [email protected].

.

University of Illinois Press and American Folklore Society are collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserveand extend access to The Journal of American Folklore.

http://www.jstor.org

This content downloaded from 129.74.117.191 on Tue, 11 Nov 2014 10:54:43 AMAll use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions

http://www.jstor.org/action/showPublisher?publisherCode=illinois

http://www.jstor.org/action/showPublisher?publisherCode=folk

http://www.jstor.org/stable/10.5406/jamerfolk.127.506.0448?origin=JSTOR-pdf

http://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp


Journal of American Folklore 127(506):448–466Copyright © 2014 by the Board of Trustees of the University of Illinois

R!"#$# L%&'"

(e Science of Folklore: Aurelio Espinosa on Spain and the American Southwest

Aurelio Espinosa (1880–1958) studied folklore in the American Southwest and Spain. Espinosa was one of the !rst academic folklorists to work with American materials and the !rst scholar to write about Mexican American culture. "is paper is an attempt to re-insert this forgotten !gure into the history of folklore studies. At the same time, drawing on new archival sources, this study will show that Espinosa’s active support of Franco in Spain contributed to his theory of cultural transmission in the American Southwest.

Keywords)*+ ,-./012)3.45 -.,+)626+: Folklorists, ethnicity, history, American studies

And what is the signi7cance of folklore in the 7eld of history? History, the materials that historians have documented over the ages, are coming to be in general solely the history of the nations or peoples who have achieved domination of others, the political history of certain monarchs and their family. . . . (e study of the life of the people, of their mode of thinking, their art, their beliefs and practices, is a new thing for the 7eld of history. And the result is that history, to remain true history, must acknowledge the worth of the other auxiliary sciences, among them the science of folklore.—Aurelio M. Espinosa, La Ciencia de Folklore, 1928

(e news from Spain is bad, very bad. . . . Even the half-baked intellectuals are surprised at the turn of events. One thing seems perfectly clear. (e attack was not speci7cally against the monarchy for the mere purpose of introducing a republican regime. It appears that a well-organized communistic program that was to advance step by step was arranged by the enemies of law and order and Catholicism. It was a pact with Satan and we should no longer be deluded.— Aurelio M. Espinosa, "e Monitor: "e O#cial Organ of the Archdiocese of San Francisco, June 27, 1931

(e following study examines the writings of Aurelio M. Espinosa (1880–1958), a scholar who studied Spanish language and folklore in the American Southwest and Spain. A8er completing his doctoral studies at the University of Chicago, Espinosa began teaching in the Romance Languages Department of Stanford University in

2!"#$# 9%&'" is a marketing assistant at Restless Books in Brooklyn, NY

JAF 127_4 text.indd 448 9/25/14 8:04 AM



Limón, The Science of Folklore 449

1910 (Brunvand 1996). He remained at Stanford throughout his career, until his re-tirement in 1947. Espinosa is best known for tracing what he asserted to be the Span-ish origins of folktales among the Spanish-speaking populations of New Mexico and Colorado. He was a member of the American Folklore Society and served as its president from 1923–1924. Espinosa also helped found the American Association of Teachers of Spanish (1917), the Linguistic Society of America (1925), and the So-ciete Internationale de Dialectologie Romane (1909). Espinosa was one of the 7rst systematic academic folklorists to work with Ameri-can materials. He introduced both a rigorous 7eldwork methodology and a highly developed theoretical framework to folklore studies under the banner of the historic-geographic method. At the same time, Espinosa was one of the 7rst academic schol-ars in what would later develop into a broad area of multidisciplinary scholarship on the people of Spanish/Mexican origin in the United States. He came to scholarly maturity a little more than half a century a8er the US-Mexico War and the occupation of Mexico’s northernmost territories by Anglo-American military forces. During this period, the cultural identity and political citizenship of the indigenous and Mexican population of the now US Southwest were contested and rede7ned within a new national context. At the same time, placed in a global context, Espinosa’s profes-sional activities spanned a period of intense ideological development and political mobilization of transnational movements of the le8 and right. (is period coincided with the transformation of folklore studies, from its late nineteenth-century begin-nings with the founding of the American Folklore Society in 1888, into a full-:edged discipline with an institutional home. Espinosa conducted his research during a pe-riod that bridged the early professional activities of late nineteenth-century folklor-istics and the consolidation of the discipline in the 1940s. (e establishment of the 7rst major academic folklore program at Indiana University, the granting of degrees in folklore in the 1950s under Richard M. Dorson, and the establishment of the (e Folklore Institute in 1964 all marked the gradual emergence of folklore as an aca-demic discipline. Folklore as a discipline and practice was intimately involved in the ideological formations and disputations of the twentieth century, both in the United States and abroad. (at folklore studies was guided by contemporaneous political developments is not a new observation (Davis 2010:3–30; Oinas 1975:157–75; Reuss 2000). Yet the extent to which political ideologies of the right shaped the discipline in the United States has been overlooked. Histories of folklore studies in the United States have said much about the New Deal-sponsored e;orts of folklorists to collect the traditions of workers and marginalized groups, o8en in a classical attempt to point out moments of le8-leaning political resistance. Yet little attention has been paid to the interactions between US folklorists and the highly conservative nationalist political movements mobilizing at the time, most notably Nazism and Fascism in Europe, Japan, and, as we shall see in this study, in the United States to some extent. Due to the above-mentioned trends in historiography, the highly conservative folk-lorist Aurelio M. Espinosa has been virtually erased from our intellectual histories, despite his early and formative role in what would later come to be known as folklore studies and Chicano studies. In Espinosa’s hands, the nationalistic nineteenth-century

JAF 127_4 text.indd 449 9/25/14 8:04 AM



450 Journal of American Folklore 127 (2014)

origins of the historic-geographic method allowed for the logical development of a theory and methodology that became an ideological vehicle for twentieth-century Fas-cism. (rough both his theory of folklore and his published political essays, Espinosa lent active support to Franco’s vision for Spain during the Spanish Civil War. In re-examining Espinosa’s folklore scholarship, this study will, on the most basic level, attempt to reinsert Espinosa into these disciplinary histories. At the same time, I want to complicate the passing mentions he has received. Scholars who do mention Espinosa have tended to frame his work in relation to the social and racial ordering of peoples in the southwestern United States in the wake of both the Spanish and Anglo occupations of this region. (ese works view Espinosa as yet another example of the exaltation of Spain at the expense of indigenous culture in Spain’s former colonies. (e shared conclusion notes that Espinosa interpreted the culture of New Mexicans as a survival from Spain, thus ignoring the hybridization of indigenous and Spanish elements in New Mexico (Lamadrid 2003). While generally correct, such brief critical commentary has not at all examined Espinosa’s conception of culture in relationship to his writings on the Spanish Civil War. Closer attention to Espinosa’s political a<liations in Spain complicates our image of this scholar as a “Hispanophile,” clinging to an imagined racial identity in the midst of cultural hybridity in the Amer-ican Southwest. In fact, as we shall see, Espinosa found a highly modern expression for his cultural politics. Perhaps because of his conservative politics, Espinosa has been largely ignored by Chicano studies. Rather, through its Marxist lineage, the discipline has largely focused on the work of Américo Paredes, a distinguished South Texas Chicano scholar who is o8en viewed as the founding father of Chicano studies. Ramón Saldívar, Dr. Pare-des’s foremost biographer, places Paredes’s folkloristics within a Gramscian framework and tells us that Paredes once considered joining the Communist Party in his youth (Saldívar 2006:54–8, 91). In folklore studies, scholars have drawn attention to Dr. Paredes as an integral but overlooked 7gure (Limón 2012). Paredes, unlike Espinosa, recognized the people living in the American Southwest as Mexicanos or Chicanos, rather than far-:ung Spaniards. Yet Paredes’s 7rst published work appeared several decades a8er Espinosa’s early articles on New Mexican culture. In contrast to Paredes, Aurelio Espinosa’s work does not conveniently 7t into what has been a predominantly le8-wing political orientation of scholars in these disciplines. Yet attention to Espinosa’s work 7lls in an important gap in our understanding of the politics and political uses of folklore studies and Mex-ican American cultural studies in the early twentieth century. In addition to complicat-ing dominant conceptions of the political a<liations of scholars of Mexican American culture, Espinosa’s work reveals transnational dimensions of folklore studies that have been largely overlooked. In fact, Espinosa’s folklore and language studies cannot be fully understood without taking account of the international political discourses in which he was engaged. (is early Mexican American scholar’s theory of folklore emerged from his present-day political commitments, particularly his active support and promotion of General Francisco Franco during the Spanish Civil War. Based on research in previously unexamined archival sources (Espinosa’s per-sonal papers), I will argue that Espinosa’s emphasis on the continuity of sixteenth-

JAF 127_4 text.indd 450 9/25/14 8:04 AM




century Spanish culture in New Mexico serves as a link between, on the one hand, a denial of cultural and racial mixture in New Mexico and, on the other, what he perceived as the symbiotic relationship between the social and cultural destiny of the American Southwest and political developments in Spain during the 1930s. Drawing on a collection of Espinosa’s articles and letters, this study will call attention to aspects of Espinosa’s political ideology that have been ignored in histories of folklore studies and Chicano studies, speci7cally, the powerful role that the Spanish Civil War played in his career. If Espinosa is too narrowly understood in histories of Chicano studies, he fares even worse in histories of folklore studies. At the present time, there are four major histories of folklore studies in the United States (Bendix 1997; Bronner 1986; Bronner 1998; Zumwalt 1988). (ese professional histories of folklore have said next to noth-ing about Espinosa or his work. Rather, they have tended to outline the evolution of a distinctly American folklore studies based on an overview of scholarship focused on local and regional cultures in the United States. Mirroring their subject matter, these scholarly histories of folklore studies have examined theories of folklore in relation to regional or national contexts. When they do focus on transnational ex-changes, it is usually in terms of the airli8 importation of an in:uence from Europe, such as the work of Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, rather than through an examination of the complicated interaction between world political movements and discourses on culture. All of these studies take a nationally bounded conception of American folklore as their point of departure, saying almost nothing about the transnational development of folklore methodologies in the early twentieth century. In addition to their uncritical replication of national boundaries, scholarly histories of folklore studies in the United States o;er a rather narrow conception of the politics of folklorists. (e historiography on American folklore is characterized by an over-whelming focus on the relationship between folklorists and le8-wing political move-ments in the 1930s. Histories of folklore studies have noted that the idea of a cohesive American culture, identi7ed through the search for roots and traditions from “the national experience,” served important political purposes during the 1930s and the years of the Great Depression (Bronner 1986:93–4). Simon Bronner’s American Folk-lore Studies: An Intellectual History demonstrates that federally funded organizations such as the Federal Writers’ Project, the Index of American Design, the Federal Arts Project, and the Works Progress Administration played a major role in shaping folk-lore studies during the early twentieth century (Bronner 1986:97). Similarly, folklor-ist Richard Reuss explored the relationships among folk song, folklore scholarship and le8-wing political movements in the pre-McCarthy era (Reuss 2000). Continuing this scholarly tradition in an article published in the Journal of American Folklore, Susan G. Davis makes use of the recently disclosed FBI 7le of the folklorist Benjamin Botkin to draw attention to the way in which “folklorists have forgotten that the early experiments in oral history and labor lore had their origins in political move-ments,” particularly movements composed of “1930s intellectuals who allied them-selves with workers, immigrants and minorities” (Davis 2010:26). Drawing on the history of folklorists’ involvement with New Deal-sponsored cultural activities such as the Federal Writers’ Project, Davis argues that Botkin was “dropped out of our

JAF 127_4 text.indd 451 9/25/14 8:04 AM




disciplinary history” (Davis 2010:27) in the midst of the Red Scare, only to be revived as a founding father in the 1970s and 1980s, so much so, in fact, that the American Folklore Society now awards a prize in his name. (at this revival has been a success is largely demonstrated by the central role which Bronner, Reuss, and Davis give to le8-wing-oriented, New Deal era research on folklore in shaping the discipline dur-ing the 1930s, several decades before the formal institutionalization of Folklore Stud-ies in the US academy. Davis concludes that “the disciplinary rejection of Botkin was a rejection of a larger world of turmoil, con:ict, and concerted action” during the politically conservative 1950s (Davis 2010:27). (us, while the activities of the con-servative folklorist Richard Dorson, with his emphasis on the distinction between the “folklore” of academics and the “fakelore” of popularizers would come to de7ne Folklore Studies in the postwar era, the 1930s are remembered as a period in which US folklore activity was de7ned by a le8ist political agenda. In contrast to this prevailing historiography of folklore studies in the 1930s, Espi-nosa’s conception of Mexican American culture and folklore was profoundly shaped by his political involvement with Spanish Nationalism. Espinosa’s studies navigated between the American Southwest and Spain using the theoretical apparatus of the historic-geographic method of folkloristics. Accordingly, this study will now turn to Espinosa’s theoretical location within folklore and language studies via the historic-geographic method before moving to the question of political developments in Spain.

I. Espinosa’s Philology and Folklore

(e contours of Espinosa’s work as a folklorist and philologist are largely set in place by his theory of choice, the historic-geographic method of folklore study. As a theo-ry of cultural transmission, the historic-geographic method was put to use in the early twentieth century as an early but :awed attempt to theorize processes of cul-tural exchange. As such, the historic-geographic method is critically related to a number of pressing questions that arose during this time. Particularly, the method sought to ascertain what form the ideal state should take in culturally and linguisti-cally plural, unevenly industrialized societies at the start of the twentieth century. Both the historic-geographic method in particular and the project of folklore studies in general o8en rested on the assumption that the idea of “culture” might supply a more stable guarantee of cohesion than that of a “social contract.” Originally developed to help articulate the cause of Finnish nationalism in the nineteenth century, the historic-geographic method of folklore can only be understood in relation to the political and social fragmentation with which folklorists saw themselves in dialogue as they represented and preserved the traditions of “their people” in the midst of a changing world. At the same time, the culture that folklorists documented would take on a new set of meanings in the later twentieth century as its study became institu-tionalized in the US academy in a rapidly changing political landscape. Espinosa used the historic-geographic method at the start of the century to map what he perceived as the movement of culture and language between Spain and New Mexico. His theories posited two forms of change, one natural and organic, the oth-er “unnatural” and deforming. Language is presented in his work as the gateway of, and therefore potential solution to, the problem of cultural change.

JAF 127_4 text.indd 452 9/25/14 8:04 AM




Espinosa’s 7rst published work is Studies in New Mexican Spanish. Part I: Phonol-ogy, his doctoral dissertation at Chicago, a study of what Espinosa identi7es as the folk dialect of the Spanish-speaking population of New Mexico. He begins the dis-sertation by justifying his interest in “the New Mexican dialect” through the observa-tion that it is an almost perfect preservation of the Castilian language of sixteenth- and seventeenth-century Spain, more perfectly preserved, in fact, than the language of modern-day Spain. It is not until two later works, "e Spanish Language in New Mexico and Southern Colorado, published in 1911, and “Speech Mixture in New Mexico,” published in 1917, that he elaborates on the social signi7cance of his philo-logical studies. (e latter article is based on an address Espinosa gave at the Panama-Paci7c Historical Congress in 1915 and begins with an account of General Kearny’s invasion of New Mexico in the mid-nineteenth century. While he notes that there was little organized resistance to the American armies to speak of, Espinosa reminds the reader:

(at the invaders were not everywhere welcome, however, is evident from the fact that only two years a8er the American occupation, in 1848, an anti-American revolt in Taos resulted in the murder of the American governor and the killings of many of the American settlers. American settlers, who had begun to enter the territory since the early part of the nineteenth century, came in large numbers a8er the Amer-ican invasion of 1846, from the South and middle West, and in a few years the country was, politically, partly Americanized, since when the New Mexican people have been obliged to live in a reluctant but necessary submission. (Espinosa 1917:409)

(is is one of the few moments in Espinosa’s work where we sense a critical le8-of-center stance, but one that is very muted and short-lived. Espinosa goes on to position the zone of intercultural con:ict as a distinctly urban one. It is in the cities, rather than the countryside, that foreign in:uences are the strongest and interracial struggles the most pronounced.

With the introduction of the railroads and the very rapid commercial progress of the last thirty years, together with the rapid growth of large cities and towns in New Mexico, there has come a check in the race fusion and the mutual contact and good feeling between the two peoples. . . . In the new cities . . . where the English speaking people are numerically superior, the Spanish people are looked upon as an inferior race and intermarriages are not very frequent at the present time. . . . Outside of a few of these very recent American cities, however, the Spanish element is still the all-important and predominant one. (Espinosa 1917:410)

For Espinosa, the railroads, both a symbol and literal harbinger of modernization and technical progress, heralded the enormous in:ux of Anglos to New Mexico in the 1880s. (e latter half of the article turns to the core question of language. At the time that Espinosa wrote, the New Mexico school system had recently replaced Spanish with English as its o<cial language of instruction. Yet in most areas, a majority of the students came from Spanish-speaking households. Concerned about both the loss of the native language and the disadvantage at which this put young Spanish-speaking

JAF 127_4 text.indd 453 9/25/14 8:04 AM




students, Espinosa presented schools as one front on which the war of languages was being fought. In the remainder of the article, Espinosa examines changes in the socio-economic as well as the linguistic system through his discussion of the industrial development of the region.

(e necessary commercial and political intercourse with English speaking peoples, the introduction of American machinery, farming implements, household articles, etc., many of these of recent invention and previously unknown to New Mexicans, and lastly, as we have said, the compulsory introduction of the English language in the schools, have of necessity caused the introduction of a large English vocabulary into New Mexican Spanish. (Espinosa 1917:413).

In Espinosa’s account of these changes, English appears to correspond to a system of industrial manufacturing and mass communication, while Spanish is a vestige of a pre-industrial way of life. In examples such as the following, we see that these words are bound to a particular mode of production in the region:

(e mechanic who works in the railroad shops uses continually and unconsciously words such as sopes< shops, estraique< strike, estiple< staple, boila< boiler, forman< foreman . . . words absolutely unknown to the New Mexican wood-seller or inhabit-ant of the mountain districts. (Espinosa 1917:414)

For Espinosa, changes in language are a signal of more disturbing and intangible changes in thought-pattern and worldview

From a Spanish population that is in continual and necessary contact with English speaking people who make no e;ort to learn Spanish, and whose language they must study and speak, the in:uence just mentioned is exactly what is to be expected. (e people are beginning to think in English and for expression seek the Spanish words which convey the English idea. (Espinosa 1917:417)

Yet what is most frustrating about these changes for Espinosa is that, unlike philo-logical changes, they cannot be measured and studied in an objective system. He observes that “the most di<cult part of the study above mentioned is that involving mere idea expressions which involve no necessary association with American institu-tions” (Espinosa 1917:417). (e contradiction between Espinosa’s fascination with New Mexican Spanish as a static survival and his study of the gradual changes of “idea expressions” over time becomes clear in the conclusion of this article. (e historic-geographic method views the history of the development of the Romance languages and the transmission of popular tales from the Orient in ancient times as part of a natural migration of culture and language. However, in his own present-day New Mexico, Espinosa worried that “we have before us, not the gradual and natural development of syntax, word-mean-ing, etc., as one can observe in the gradual development of popular Latin into the Romance Languages, but the somewhat unnatural and necessary development which comes from urgent economic causes” (Espinosa 1917:417). (e distinction between

JAF 127_4 text.indd 454 9/25/14 8:04 AM




organic and inorganic change in Espinosa’s theory will be further discussed in rela-tionship to his political involvements with Spain, where the concept of “inorganic” politics would become the foundation of Spanish Nationalism. In his study of the transmission of the Spanish language, Espinosa vacillates between an acknowledg-ment of change and a deep attachment to the uniformity and duration of the eternal Spanish ideal of the sixteenth century.

All languages are always in a continuous process of evolution. But in Spanish Amer-ica linguistic change has been very slow. From New Mexico to Chile and Argentina the uniformity of development is extraordinary. (ese facts speak eloquently for the uniformity of the Castilian language of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries when it came to Spanish America, and for the uniformity of Spanish linguistic develop-ment. (e problem of the uniformity of phonetic developments throughout Spanish American cannot be de7nitely solved yet. . . . However, there is ample evidence to show the extraordinary uniformity of Spanish phonetic developments in Spain and Spanish America. And what is more, the majority of the phonetic developments in question are found in the popular and even the learned literature of the Golden Age. (Espinosa 1917:417)

(e “problem of the uniformity,” like the problems of political con:ict in Spain and the Southwest, appears as a troubling question on the periphery of Espinosa’s narrative.

II. Espinosa’s Folklore Studies

Before turning to the question of Spain and the Civil War, we will examine Espinosa’s scholarship within the context of the discursive and political formation of the south-western United States in the wake of the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo. In the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, as the United States began its industrial transformation, the national imaginary positioned the region of the American South-west as an escape from modernity. Travelers at the start of the century depicted the Mexican American Southwest as both “backward” and “romantic,” simultaneously a background against which Anglo-American progress could be understood and an antidote to modern alienation. During this period, the in:uential writer Charles Fletcher Lummis compared New Mexico to Ancient Egypt (Gutiérrez 2002). He then christened the former the land of “pocotiempo,” a place where time and people move more slowly. With his personal and scholarly interest in the Spanish language and New Mexico, it is likely that Espinosa was to some degree aware of popular discourse on the South-west at the time. It is at least clear that Espinosa was familiar with Lummis’s writings, as he o8en cites them as references in his early work. Espinosa’s 7rst publication was a critical edition of the New Mexican folk play Los Comanches, a folk drama centered on the Comanche attack on Tomé in 1777. Espinosa writes:

I have no account of the attack and the horrible massacre of Tomé other than the narrative of Lummis, which, I suppose, is correct; but in the records of the Church

JAF 127_4 text.indd 455 9/25/14 8:04 AM




of San Felipe in Old Albuquerque, there is found among the old burial records, a brief narrative of this merciless attack, together with the names of the persons bur-ied, by the Franciscan friar of Old Albuquerque who went down to Tomé to bury the dead. (e record reads thus. (Espinosa 1907:11–2)

(e record is then given in untranslated Spanish. Espinosa’s vague skepticism, that telling “I suppose,” toward Lummis’s narrative, leads him to revise the latter’s version of Tomé. (e voice of the friar, which he seems to position in response to Lummis’s account, is not translated into Lummis’s native English. Indeed, Espinosa’s preface and introduction to Los Comanches already contain the problems and concerns of much of his later work. To begin with, it is his 7rst published study of a piece of folklore, although he does not yet use this term in his description of the play. Yet he distinguishes it from a purely literary work with the use of the term “popular” in observations such as the following:

(e play Los Comanches has been very popular in New Mexico. Up to some twenty years ago, it was produced in many parts of New Mexico, during the Christmas holidays or other important feast days. (e popularity of the play during the last century is con7rmed by the fact that very few New Mexicans over 78y years of age are not able to recite large portions of Los Comanches from memory. (Espinosa 1907:19)

At the same time, many of his future dialectological concerns are present in the foot-notes of his edited version of the play manuscript. He repeatedly notes problems that will be taken up in depth in his forthcoming dissertation Studies in New Mexican Spanish. His concern with the transformation of language is already clearly present in passages such as the following:

(e author of Los Comanches was not an Ercilla [famous Spanish epic poet]; in fact, not a learned man, as can be judged from his work. While the language is good Span-ish, it is very simple, almost the language of the uneducated. . . . (e fact that the original manuscript was not printed, however, may account for many poor passages in our play as we now have it. I do not believe, for instance, that the author of Los Comanches would confuse the pronouns vosotros and ustedes in the same sentence, as we 7nd repeatedly in our manuscript. (ese are undoubtedly the copyists’ errors, if not our copyist the one before him or others, for in New Mexican Spanish vosotros is not used, hence, ustedes crept in here and there until the text of the manuscript came to be in the present state of confusion in this respect. (Espinosa 1907:19)

Espinosa chooses to manage the problem of the foreign linguistic elements that have “crept in” and created a “state of confusion” by brie:y reconstructing a hypothetical history of these transformations, one which is able to separate the process of trans-formation from the essence of an original:

As to the dialetic [sic] peculiarities, these are also undoubtedly due to the New Mexican copyist. While the dialetic [sic] changes found in the manuscript are very few, all are New Mexican Spanish forms, so that we are justi7ed in attributing them,

JAF 127_4 text.indd 456 9/25/14 8:04 AM




not to the author of the play, but to the copyists through whose hands the manuscript has passed. (Espinosa 1907:19–20)

Finally, in the midst of the social “war of position” occurring in New Mexico as New Mexicans resisted Anglo political domination, the allegorical possibilities of the eigh-teenth-century “war of maneuver” that the play represents may not have been without appeal for Espinosa. At several points, his brief historical narrative seems to meditate on the problems of cultural subordination in terms of a loss of narrative and a loss of language. We 7nd allusion to the loss of narrative in such passages as the following, where the tragedy of Tomé is portrayed not only in the horror of violence, but in the extinguishment of the memory of these events, the execution of all witnesses:

It was a8er this massacre of the people at Tomé at the hands of the Comanches, when not a person of the village was le8 to tell the tale, and numerous other attacks on the smaller Spanish villages, that the inhabitants of New Mexico became in:amed with indignation against the Comanches and the expedition of 1777 . . . which furnished the subject matter of the play Los Comanches, was planned. (Espinosa 1907:12)

In the structure of this passage, the reader is given the sense that the expedition against the Comanche enemy to secure the territory is complemented on the discursive front by the play, which will keep the events alive in the memory of the New Mexican people. (e play will thus serve to rescue the community from the horror of annihi-lation in whose wake “there is no one le8 to tell the tale.” Espinosa concludes the story with an account not only of the political defeat of the Comanches, but of their permanent erasure from the narrative of history:

(is ended the Comanche troubles for all time. A8er this defeat, no important attacks on New Mexican villages are recorded. So much for the history of the Comanches in New Mexico. We will now give an extract from Pino’s work, which gives a good idea of their manners and customs. (Espinosa 1907:13)

Interestingly enough, Espinosa’s description of the fate of the Comanches is sealed by the documentation of their manners and customs, presented as the sole surviving source of information on the tribe and collected by an outside observer. Here, the defeat of a people occurs not only politically, but through the disablement of self-representation. It is now the outside folklorist-observer who will represent their way of life for posterity. As has been pointed out, such statements also ignore the vibrant cultural transmission between “Comanches” and mestizos in New Mexico that con-tinues to the present day (Lamadrid 2003). (e shadow of another, present-day con:ict thus falls across the page of Espinosa’s edition of this eighteenth-century text. Just as the appearances of Lummis’s historical narrative dialogizes the account of Tomé, Espinosa similarly invokes the presence of those with whom he is in conversation in the 7rst part of his introduction:

It is hoped that this study may be of interest and utility to the student, whether the history or language of New Mexico are being studied, and that it may inspire New

JAF 127_4 text.indd 457 9/25/14 8:04 AM




Mexicans to study their history. . . . So rare are many of the documents, dealing with the early history of New Mexico that very few people know that our early annals, the conquest and settlement of New Mexico by Juan de Oñate, in 1598 (22 years before the Pilgrim fathers landed at Plymouth Rock!) are written in the verse of the language of Castile. (Espinosa 1907:6)

As the Pilgrims push their way into the middle of the sentence, the other conversation in which Espinosa is engaged appears to have been barely suppressed by his objective analysis. A writer not given to unnecessary exclamation marks must add one. Fi-nally, Espinosa’s clearly stated aim— to “inspire New Mexicans to study their histo-ry”—seems to set his own enterprise, at least at this early stage, apart from that of Pino studying the customs and manners of the “defeated” Comanches.

III. Espinosa and the Spanish Question

Somewhat anticipating Chicano studies, Espinosa’s studies of the Southwest at times seem to mount a cultural defense, what some would term a “resistance,” to Anglo modernity and occupation. Paradoxically, such a stance is taken in the name of an idealized Spanish language and folklore in New Mexico, one sustained by an ideol-ogy based on cultural purity. (is vision eventually led Espinosa into collusion with the most right-wing reactionary political forces in Spain at a moment of crisis in that country. (e idea of purity of bloodline had long allowed a dominant class of New Mexicans to distinguish themselves from indios and genízaros (slaves captured from American Indian tribes) and a growing population of mestizos (persons of mixed race) (Gutiérrez 1991:102–4). It remained a common practice for individuals of social status to refer to themselves as “Spanish-Americans” in an e;ort to maintain this distinction between themselves and the lower classes of mixed or indigenous race. By the late nineteenth century, the distinction between “Spanish-American” and “Mexican,” “Mexican-American” or “Latin-American” takes on an increased sig-ni7cance as Santa Anna surrendered Mexico’s northern territories, of which New Mexico was a part, to the United States. Widespread poverty in Mexico and po-litical violence in the wake of the Revolution of 1910 brought an increasing number of poor, dispossessed Mexican immigrants into what was now known as the south-western United States, including southern New Mexico. (e latter were seen as foreigners by many long-term residents of the region, an invasion from the south to add to the Yankee invasion from the east. (is same period saw the emergence of a culture of Hispanophilia, or a fascination with the Colonial Spanish past among Anglo-Americans su;ering an imperial nos-talgia. While Spain’s loss of its colonies in Latin America, as well as its failure to de-velop democratic institutions, were frequently taken up in US national discourse as evidence of its failure to achieve “modernity,” it was at the same time exalted for its romantic traditions (Kagan 2002). Supported by various explanations ranging from a “Moorish” racial heritage to a lack of American pragmatism, popular discourse at the time focused on Spain’s perceived inability to develop a modern, liberal worldview. (is discourse was heightened in the context of the Spanish-American War.

JAF 127_4 text.indd 458 9/25/14 8:04 AM




In his article on the discourse on Spain in the United States at this time, James D. Fernández identi7es what he terms “a double displacement,” one which moves from Latin America to Spain and from interest in language, politics, and commerce to interest in literature, history, and culture (Fernández 2002). In other words, despite representations of Spain as hopelessly backward, the country drew US interest as a means to understand Latin America, just as the Spanish language took on a new signi7cance as a tool for Latin American business negotiations. (e crux of Fernán-dez’s article is a tension between, on the one hand, the United States’ practical business ends in Latin America and, on the other, “disinterested inquiry into Spanish tradition” (Fernández 2002:124). At the same time, Spanish scholars and enthusiasts in the United States took up the cause of Spain with renewed vigor and emphasized the importance of a global Hispanic racial community (Fernández 2002). (is idea emerged partly as a rejoinder to a concept of “Pan-Americanism” or North/South hemispheric unity in the United States. It is also true, as we have already seen in Espinosa’s work, that scholars followed a general discursive trend in American society at this time: exaltation of the pure and distinct “Spanish” and “Native” traditions of the Southwest and denial of miscegena-tion (Lamadrid 2003). Espinosa’s scholarship both re:ected and contributed to these popular frameworks for understanding the relationship between Spain and the populations of its former empire. Yet, extending his political involvements beyond the American Southwest toward what he viewed as the region’s mother country, Espinosa used the historic-geographic approach to folklore to articulate a position on political developments in Spain in a critical moment of that country’s history. (e method lent itself to estab-lishing the pure ur-form of folklore, hence the “pure” country of its ostensible origin. As we shall see, Espinosa, re:ecting anti-Communist sentiment developing at this time, perceived threatening elements in Spain as part of a dangerous global pattern that could easily spread out from Spain to America. Within Spain itself, conservatives saw the Catholic Church as nearly synonymous with Spanish identity (Beevor 2006:3–10). Espinosa’s own fear of global radical conspiracy was thus conceived as a threat to Catholicism and the central role he believed the Church should play in society. (is view of the primacy of the Church was formed in opposition to secular State control. Following his folklore 7eldwork in Spain between 1923 and 1926, Espinosa pub-lished a series of newspaper articles in the 1930s responding to the events in Spain. Many of these articles appeared in "e Monitor: "e O#cial Organ of the Archdiocese of San Francisco. In this newspaper, Espinosa published an article in September of 1930 entitled “Education and the Home,” an excerpt from a longer paper read at St. Mary’s College. (e article lays out an argument for the centrality of the family and the church for instilling moral values that state education cannot cultivate. Indeed, Espinosa writes to underscore his fear that “the schools, especially the public schools, are encroaching gradually on the rights of the home” (Espinosa 1930). He writes:

(e theory of absolute state control of education is usually developed at great length, the absurd notion that education is the instrument of the state. But those of us who

JAF 127_4 text.indd 459 9/25/14 8:04 AM




believe in the natural rights of the parents and the divine rights of the church in education will struggle valiantly for state cooperation rather than absolute control. Recent examples of state controlled and nationalized education in Germany and Russia are sad reminders of what can happen in any country at any time when edu-cation becomes the instrument of the state. (ese absurd theories of complete state control of education will not meet with general acceptance as long as Americans choose to be free, as long as Christian marriage and the family life continue as the foundation stones of our natural life. (Espinosa 1930)

And continues:

But there is another reason for the weakening of the home in:uence in our na-tional life, namely, that too many people are relegating their rights and duties to the schools or to any agency or institution that will take them. . . . Among the most important of education problems is the question of the harnessing together of the natural and divine rights, duties and responsibilities of the home and the church with the national rights, duties and responsibilities of the state. (Espinosa 1930)

Espinosa also used an article in "e Monitor to respond to the threat of a separation between church and state in Spain. On several occasions, he compares the latter to America, writing:

(e Catholic Church cannot accept divorce, because its Divine Founder explicitly prohibits it. In America we have legal divorce in all the states and yet the Catholic Church militates against it on all occasions, publicly and privately, in the press, from the pulpit and in her schools. If this is treason against the state it is too bad for the state. (Espinosa 1931a:1–2)

Returning to the question of education and continuing to compare Spain and Amer-ica, Espinosa cautions that

[t]he problem of education looms large. Even in free America, compulsory state education has been attempted. In Spain, according to reliable estimates, about three-fourths of the children are educated in Catholic schools. . . . Will the new regime attempt to do what our Supreme Court rejected? (Espinosa 1931a)

Espinosa closes the article with glowing praise for the glory of Spain and the Catho-lic Church and a call for transnational Catholic solidarity:

And the great Spain of the past, the nation that discovered the new world and 7rst brought the Cross of Christ to its shores, the mother of 20 Catholic nations, the great Spain that under Phillip the Second fought the whole Protestant world in defense of Catholicism, has now embarked on a republican dream. (is dream will be realized thanks to the stoicism, dignity, courtesy and respect for authority and the Catholic spirit of the Spanish race. But though possessed of all these wonderful virtues, Cath-olic Spain needs now the moral support of Catholics from all corners of the earth. (Espinosa 1931a)

JAF 127_4 text.indd 460 9/25/14 8:04 AM




Later that summer, Espinosa published an article in which he uses heightened rhetoric, referring repeatedly to a “pact with Satan” made by radical groups in Spain. He vaguely alludes to Communist conspiracy that is 7rst and foremost bent on de-stroying the Catholic Church:

In Spain and other parts of the world, even in our own country, the acts that 7ll us with terror were not only condoned, but approved and even praised by a group of people that can not be said to constitute an insigni7cant minority. And the com-munistic press, radical republican and socialist papers, began to rejoice, insisting that the government expel immediately all the religious orders, in:aming the mobs more and more, openly insulting the Catholic Church in print, and boasting that the work of destruction had only begun. (Espinosa 1931b)

Espinosa warns that such chaos

[w]ill happen in any Catholic country if the pact with Satan is well organized and carried out, and if governments that do their best to preserve human liberties are destroyed. (Espinosa 1931b)

In fact, Espinosa had been closely following political events in Spain for some time. General Primo de Rivera had taken dictatorial control of the country in 1921, only to be forced out in 1931 as secular and democratic political elements established the Second Republic. However, the Catholic, conservative, and ultra-nationalist forces in Spain were not done, and in 1936, through the so-called generals’ uprising, these forces launched a coup d’etat, which then precipitated the Spanish Civil War of 1936–1939 and their eventual triumph under the dictatorship of the leader of the national-ist insurgency, Generalissimo Francisco Franco (Beevor 2006). In 1937, following the generals’ uprising, Espinosa published an essay through the San Francisco Spanish Relief Committee entitled "e Second Spanish Republic and the Causes of the Counter-Revolution. In this essay, Espinosa elaborated a narrative of the Spanish Civil War in support of Franco and the Nationalists. (e Republicans are characterized as a wild mob, one perhaps orchestrated by foreign powers such as Russia. More horrifying still for Espinosa and many other conservative Catholics, the Republicans represent a threat to the authority of the Catholic Church. Espinosa writes of the con:ict in Spain:

Parades of Le8ist mobs through the streets of the large cities of Spain, waving red :ags, singing the Internationale, saluting with clenched 7sts in the Communistic fashion, and crying out “Long Live Russia,” were the order of the day. In Madrid and other cities women and children were molested on their way to and from the church-es. (e incident of an old lady being stoned on her way to church by Le8ists is at-tested by a trustworthy witness long before the present revolt started. In the vicinity of the Puerta del Sol a church was burned down. (Espinosa 1937:15)

Just as Espinosa voiced direct political support for Franco in his writing for the Span-ish relief committee, his folklore studies, based in an exaltation of sixteenth-century

JAF 127_4 text.indd 461 9/25/14 8:04 AM




Spain, in e;ect contributed to the ideological project of Franco’s State as it implicitly argued for the primacy of a pure Spanish culture. In an analysis of Nationalist ideology in Spain, historian Raymond Carr has emphasized the importance of traditionalism to Franco’s political project, writing:

(e repellant early rhetoric of the (Franco) régime was di;use, indeed incompre-hensible to the rational mind, in its attempts by “renovating” tradition to reconcile the sixteenth century with the modern authoritarian reaction against “the inor-ganic democracy of parties.” “(e new state must be founded on all the principles of traditionalism to be genuinely national,” wrote José MaríaPemán, an early ideo-logue of the régime in 1939. “It (Spain) was one, great and free, and truly Spain in the sixteenth century when state and nation were identi7ed with the eternal Catho-lic idea, when Spain was the model nation and alma mater of western Christian civilization.” (Carr 1981:210)

We can see this vision of Spain and its culture in other sources connected to Espinosa. In addition to his published opinion pieces on the Spanish Civil War, Espinosa also maintained a correspondence with political and intellectual 7gures in Spain during the War years and beyond. Most notably, an archive of his per-sonal papers contains a large collection of letters from Angel González Palencia, Professor of Arabic-Spanish Literature at the University of Madrid and an ardent Franco supporter. While Espinosa’s responses to Palencia are not included in these materials, we can more than reasonably infer from Palencia’s remarks that he wrote with the assurance that Espinosa shared his political sympathies, sympathies evident in his own writings on this issue. (e 7rst letter in the collection from Dr. Palencia is dated 1936, yet it is obvious that Palencia and Espinosa have already formed an intimate friendship by this time. Palencia’s letters are sent from Zaragoza, where he appears to be temporarily residing, possibly because Madrid was occupied by the Republicans. (e 7rst letter, dated December 27, 1936, is addressed to “My Dear Friend Espinosa” and, a8er listing various atrocities perpetrated by the “Reds,” gives a detailed and admiring description of Franco’s army and a recounting of its recent successful military actions (Espinosa, private collection). In his subsequent letters, he continues to give Espinosa updates on the progress of the Nationalists in Spain, urges him to have them published in American newspapers, and enquires a8er the Espinosa family, especially Espinosa’s sons, both of whom are attending prestigious universities. Additionally, several of Palencia’s letters make reference to Ramón Menéndez Pidal, an eminent Spanish scholar and folklorist who sided with the Republic and came to the United States in exile from the Franco ascendancy during the war. Of Menéndez Pidal, Palencia writes caustically that

[w]e have nothing to do with the wanderings of this illustrious philologist who “plugs” in wherever he can. He le8 Spain of his own free will (and of his departure, there are as many versions as the sources that he 7nds, invents, or imagines for his studies). (Espinosa, private collection)

JAF 127_4 text.indd 462 9/25/14 8:04 AM




Palencia goes on to remark that Menéndez Pidal will undoubtedly remain in the United States, taking full advantage of lectures, publications, and so forth, wherever he can “insinuate” himself. In November of 1937, Espinosa received a letter from Professor Horatio Smith from the Department of Spanish at Columbia University, inviting him to join a com-mittee “to aid and advance the work” of Dr. Menéndez Pidal” (Espinosa, private collection). (e project included raising funds for research assistance, securing pub-lication of Menéndez Pidal’s work, and transferring his papers from Spain. While on the surface, this would appear to be a wonderful chance to assist a distinguished Spanish scholar, Smith was either unaware of or severely underestimated Espinosa’s political commitment to Franco and, we must assume, the distaste for Menéndez Pidal that he shared with Palencia. On the envelope holding this letter, Espinosa has, in large block print, written the word “¡Fracaso!” or “Disaster!” No doubt Espinosa’s reaction was informed by both political animosity toward Menéndez Pidal and a fear that the latter, now residing in the United States, would begin to serve as a represen-tative for the Republican cause in the United States, much as Espinosa was attempt-ing to do for the Nationalists. In his writings about the Communist and Anarchist menace in Spain, Palencia o8en invokes an international political threat, one that might spill over into the Unit-ed States. In one letter to Espinosa, he sends word to “Moncho,” presumably Espi-nosa’s son José Manuel, that he should “take a pistol to the Bolshevik meetings” that the latter has written about, presumably in the Bay Area where he attends school at the University of California at Berkeley. Palencia warns that if the United States “keeps cultivating the communist plant, you may end up going to those meetings with a machine gun in your arms” and that

[a]8er a while, one here becomes familiar with abstract dialectical [Marxist] ar-gumentation, but these last two or three years, we have been demonstrating that the word tranquilidad [tranquility] comes from the word tranca [club], and since we have applied the tranca in National Spain, we have seen the disappearance of strikes, thieves, the shameless, etc., even the gypsies have changed their dress, customs and languages so as to try to blend in with decent Spaniards. (Espinosa, private collection)

Espinosa’s correspondence with his good friend Palencia stands as testament to the linkage that both Spanish scholars perceived between the political fates of Spain and the United States in the 1930s. (e fear that the United States was “cultivating the communist plant” would guide Espinosa’s published opinion pieces in Catholic dai-lies and local papers as he attempted to mobilize US support for the Nationalist cause. At the same time, it would complement his work on the academic front as he sought to preserve Catholic traditions against the encroachment of threatening modern political forms such as the strike, Republicanism, and the separation between church and state. In this way, folklore came to play a key role in shaping a political ideology that made Fascism and political conservativism synonymous with the preservation of tradition and a return to the idyllic past.

JAF 127_4 text.indd 463 9/25/14 8:04 AM




VI. Conclusion

In examining Aurelio Espinosa’s writings on the Spanish Civil War, we see the way that his understanding of Spanish identity extended from the realm of an imaginary past and into the realm of present-day politics. (is linkage has much to do with what he, at the height of his academic career, perceived as the transnational threat of, broadly, radical le8-wing political movements and, I will tentatively conjecture, the expansion of a powerful federal government with a clearly de7ned separation between church and state. Indeed, it is important to note that Espinosa’s articles on Spanish politics were published in the midst of President Roosevelt’s New Deal in the United States. One of the larger e;ects of the New Deal was a dramatic consolidation of discrete re-gional/local identities into nationwide interest groups. On the electoral front, Roo-sevelt shaped the modern Democratic Party by bringing both urban immigrant work-ers and the old guard of rural southerners under its wing. Yet for many Americans, interest in national politics was itself a new phenomenon. For the 7rst time, citizens became aware of and interested in the activity of a federal government that had once seemed a distant abstraction. (e New Deal also nurtured the le8-wing cultural and intellectual movements that, through organizations such as the Federal Writers’ Proj-ect, engaged in early attempts to collect and construct a distinctly “American” folk life. Such federally funded activity would eventually feed into the institutionalized discipline of folklore studies, and these early non-academic folklorists would eventu-ally be revived as the honorary predecessors of the Marxist-oriented folklore studies of the 1970s and 1980s. Yet, it is important to remember that not everyone, and, more important for this study, not every folklorist, welcomed the New Deal project with open arms. For Es-pinosa, the expansion of the federal government and the ascendancy of a national identity meant the erosion of other forms of social organization, speci7cally those centered around Mexican American cultural traditions, Catholic identity, and the church. At the same time, one can only imagine that the violent labor/business con-:icts of the late 1930s might have seemed to Espinosa to foreshadow a distinctly US version of the Spanish Civil War, but this time, unfortunately, in a country without a Franco to save the Catholic Church from the atheist masses. Against these menacing versions of modernity being enacted in the United States and across the Atlantic, Espinosa’s folklore studies attempted to promote and exalt traditional Catholicism and what he viewed as pre-modern forms of social organization in the Southwest. Furthermore, Espinosa published his views in Spanish-language newspapers such as El Imparcial of San Francisco, suggesting an e;ort to disseminate his views among the general (Spanish-speaking) public. At the same time that he promoted his views to Mexican Americans in the Southwest, this folklorist actively supported a highly conservative authoritarian political movement across the Atlantic. In both of these arenas, Espinosa attempted to preserve Spanish tradition while drawing on highly modern forms of discursive and political contestation: on the one front, the air raids increasingly favored by the Nationalist war e;ort, most famously implemented in the terror bombing of Guernica; on the other, his lifelong e;orts to create a professional, methodically rigorous science of culture.

JAF 127_4 text.indd 464 9/25/14 8:04 AM




Acknowledgments

I would like to thank my father, José E. Limón, the Julian Samora Professor of Latino Studies at the University of Notre Dame, and Charles Briggs, my advisor in the Folklore Program at Berkeley, for their theoretical guidance and encouragement. (anks to my mother, Marianna Adler, for her support, endless re-readings, and keen copyediting eye. I am also most grateful to the family of Aurelio M. Espinosa, Sr., for making his archive available to me. Finally, thanks to Américo Paredes for pioneering a space for dialogue and equality—in Folklore studies and in academic discourse as a whole—for generations of Mexican American scholars.

References Cited

Bannister, Robert C. 1987. Sociology and Scientism: "e American Quest for Objectivity. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press.

Beevor, Antony. 2006. "e Battle for Spain: "e Spanish Civil War, 1936–1939. New York: Penguin.Bendix, Regina. 1997. In Search of Authenticity: "e Formation of Folklore Studies. Madison: University

of Wisconsin Press.Bronner, Simon. 1986. American Folkore Studies: An Intellectual History. Lawrence: University Press of

Kansas.———. 1998. Following Tradition: Folklore in the Discourse of American Culture. Logan: Utah State Uni-

versity Press.Brunvand, Jan Harold, ed. 1996. Espinosa, Aurelio Macedonio. In American Folklore: An Encyclopedia.

New York: Garland.Carr, Raymond. 1981. Modern Spain, 1875–1980. Oxford, Eng.: Oxford University Press.Davis, Susan G. 2010. Ben Botkin’s FBI File. Journal of American Folklore 122(487):3–30.Espinosa, Aurelio M. 1907. Los Comanches: A Spanish Heroic Play of the Year Seven Hundred and Eighty.

Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press.———. 1909. Studies in New Mexican Spanish. Part I: Phonology. Albuquerque: University of New Mex-

ico Press.———. 1911. "e Spanish Language in New Mexico and Southern Colorado. Santa Fe: New Mexican Print-

ing Company.———. 1917. Speech Mixture in New Mexico. In "e Paci!c Ocean in History: Papers and Addresses

Presented at the Panama-Paci!c Historical Congress Held in San Francisco, Palo Alto and Berkeley, California, June 19–23, 1915, ed. H. Morse Stephens and Herbert E. Bolton, pp. 408–28. New York: Macmillan.

———. 1928. La Ciencia del Folklore. In Archivos del Folklore Cubano Vol. III. Havana: Cultural, S.A. http://ufdc.u:.edu/UF00074034/00003/1j.

———. [1929] 1985. "e Folklore of Spain in the American Southwest: Traditional Spanish Folk Literature in Northern New Mexico and Southern Colorado, ed. and Introduction by José Manuel Espinosa. Nor-man: University of Oklahoma Press.

———. 1930. Education and the Home. Monitor: "e O#cial Organ of the Archdiocese of San Francisco, September 6.

———. 1931a. Professor Terms Spanish Outrages “Pact with Satan.” Monitor: "e O#cial Organ of the Archdiocese of San Francisco, June 27.

———. 1931b. Radicals in Spain Spoil the Republic. Monitor: "e O#cial Organ of the Archdiocese of San Francisco, April 25.

———. 1937. "e Second Spanish Republic and the Cause of the Counter-Revolution. San Francisco: Span-ish Relief Committee.

Fernández, James D. 2002. “Longfellow’s Law”: (e Place of Latin America and Spain in U.S. Hispanism, circa 1915. In Spain in America: "e Origins of Hispanism in the United States, ed. Richard L. Kagan, pp. 122–41. Urbana: University of Illinois Press.

Gutiérrez, Ramón. 1991. When Jesus Came, the Corn Mothers Went Away: Marriage, Sexuality and Pow-er in New Mexico, 1500–1846. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press.

JAF 127_4 text.indd 465 9/25/14 8:04 AM




———. 2002. Charles Fletcher Lummis and the Orientalization of New Mexico. In Nuevomexicano Cul-tural Legacy: Forms, Agencies and Discourse, ed. Francisco A. Lomelí, Víctor A. Sorell, and Genaro M. Padilla, pp. 11–27. Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press.

Kagan, Richard L. 2002. From Noah to Moses: (e Genesis of Historical Scholarship on Spain in the United States. In Spain in America: "e Origins of Hispanism in the United States, ed. Richard L. Kagan, pp. 21–47. Urbana: University of Illinois Press.

Lamadrid, Enrique. 2003. Hermanitos Comanchitos: Indo-Hispano Rituals of Captivity and Redemption. Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press.

Limón, José E. 2012. Américo Paredes: Culture and Critique. Austin: University of Texas Press.Oinas, Felix J. 1975. (e Political Uses and (emes of Folklore in the Soviet Union. Journal of the Folklore

Institute 12(2–3):157–75.Reuss, Richard. 2000. American Folk Music and Le$-Wing Politics, 1925–1957. Lanham, MD: Scarecrow

Press.Saldívar, Ramon. 2006. "e Borderlands of Culture: Américo Paredes and the Transnational Imaginary.

Durham, NC: Duke University Press.Zumwalt, Rosemary. 1988. American Folklore Scholarship: A Dialogue of Dissent. Bloomington: Indiana

University Press.

JAF 127_4 text.indd 466 9/25/14 8:04 AM



Science of Folklore: Aurelio Espinosa on Spain and the American Southwest

Documents

Transcript of Science of Folklore: Aurelio Espinosa on Spain and the American Southwest