This was one of the books I read in my “Introduction to Graduate History” course, back in the dark mists of time when I was a young and enthusiastic aspiring historian. I found it a useful introduction to then-current thinking about race as a social construction, and a curative for assumptions that concepts such as “race,” “nationality” or “ethnicity” exist as absolutes in the objective world. I found it useful in several other senses: it gives a good introduction to the history of American immigration, it works as an introduction to historical debate, and it helps to contextualize the more ultra-nationalist movements I study in the European context as they would have been perceived by contemporaries across the pond. It is written clearly enough to be accessible by advanced undergraduate or educated non-academic readers.
In focusing on “whiteness,” Frye departs from studies of the racial “other” to ask about the less-visible construction of the supposed “norm.” This is not to say that the bulk of the book is really about the secure dominant race, but rather it tends to focus on the racial borderlands, and ask how it is the whiteness has been ascribed and defined to exclude different groups at different times in American (and, by extension, European) history. He provides evidence that, at different times and in different circumstances, many people who would be today accepted as white (Poles, Italians, Jews, Swedes, Germans, Irish) were at one time considered beyond the pale of whiteness. He uses visual as well as documentary sources to find “conventions of physiognomy” which signaled the inclusion or exclusion of new immigrants. Most fascinating to me was the visual evidence that Irish people were once portrayed with dark skin in popular illustrations to emphasize their alien-ness. Frye is also very interested in the language of race, and the changing use of terms such as “Celt,” “Slav,” “Nordic,” and “Iberic” to define certain groups as in or out of the in-group. While this lends itself to a degree of discourse analysis, Frye avoids wandering into post-structuralist abstraction and jargon, keeping his argument grounded in evidence and historical relevance.
Although it attempts a fairly sweeping study of its subject, from colonial times to the civil rights era, the bulk of the book focuses on the late-nineteenth century, when the immigration on a mass scale from many different parts of Europe threw conceptions of the “Yankee” into question. He covers the period from 1860 to the early 1920s (when new laws restricting immigration were passed) in considerable detail, using one chapter to focus in on 1877 as a case study in racial re-definition. Frye is also interested in challenging the slippery ways in which white privilege is studied and critiqued today, making a special case that whiteness is an identity which many academics or educated people find it expedient to repudiate, while still benefitting from inclusion when it suits them. People who have never experienced exclusion themselves still attempt to distance themselves from accusations of white supremacy because their ancestors were inscribed as “non-white,” therefore exculpating them (for instance) from acts of genocide against Native Americans (ignoring the fact that they continue to benefit from the oppression of the same groups as modern-day “whites”). Frye seems to have a particular bone to pick on this score with the writer Michael Novak, but I am unfamiliar with him and cannot comment.
Overall, the book is a useful insight into aspects of American history that often go overlooked in traditional accounts.