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Working Hard, Drinking Hard: On Violence and Survival in Honduras
"Honduras is violent." Adrienne Pine situates this oft-repeated claim at the center of her vivid and nuanced chronicle of Honduran subjectivity. Through an examination of three major subject areas―violence, alcohol, and the export-processing (maquiladora) industry―Pine explores the daily relationships and routines of urban Hondurans. She views their lives in the context of the vast economic footprint on and ideological domination of the region by the United States, powerfully elucidating the extent of Honduras's dependence. She provides a historically situated ethnographic analysis of this fraught relationship and the effect it has had on Hondurans' understanding of who they are. The result is a rich and visceral portrait of a culture buffeted by the forces of globalization and inequality.
272 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2008
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Displaying 1 - 8 of 8 reviews
October 12, 2021
An anthropological study of Honduras that is actually quite good! Slightly dated now, having been published in 2008 based on research conducted from 1997-2003, but very insightful. It occupies that territory between academic and popular works, where (after a very academic introduction) it’s definitely accessible for the layperson, though most non-academic readers probably wouldn’t be interested.
Pine’s work in Honduras focused on three major issues: violence, alcohol, and the maquiladoras (garment factories). She looks at all these issues from a structural perspective, living in the community, talking to people, observing the media, but also applying anthropological methods. Which turns the book into a harsh critique of neoliberalism, neocolonialism, and governments pushing “personal responsibility” to the exclusion of having to actually do anything themselves. Hondurans are overwhelmingly impoverished and governed by a small elite, and seem to have largely convinced themselves that their problems are a result of their own deficiencies—being “behind,” an inherently violent and drunken people, not working hard enough, etc. All of this overlooks the way larger economic forces, structural inequalities, and media portrayals affect them: young men going into gangs because there’s no work for them to do; the media and popular preachers amplifying acts of violence and the message that it’s people’s own fault; and so forth.
It’s really interesting to see a society examined from a knowledgeable anthropological perspective in this way. Much of the subject matter is wild and tragic: for instance, the Cold War era death squads essentially being reconvened to take out young gang-affiliated kids, and even progressives largely being okay with this because of their overwhelming fear of the violence that seems to have touched nearly every family. The section on how violence operates in society and how everybody blames themselves for it is particularly striking (and the U.S. in its involvement does not come out well). Some of the same themes appear in the alcohol section, with the powers that be pushing AA and other “it’s a personal problem” solutions without looking at the larger picture. This section might have benefited from a little more explanation for non-social scientists—Pine critiques the medical model of alcoholism in favor of, I assume, a social model, but doesn’t fully explain that part. I was also surprised at the assertion that drunken violence is largely cultural rather than an inherent quality of drunkenness, which apparently does have significant support that I wish she’d gone into here. Meanwhile, the maquiladora section discusses the treatment of workers, their resistance, the role of the factories in the larger society, and exploitation of poor workers in general.
Overall, a fascinating study with a lot more detail than there’s space to discuss in a review. I’d definitely recommend this one to those who are interested.
Pine’s work in Honduras focused on three major issues: violence, alcohol, and the maquiladoras (garment factories). She looks at all these issues from a structural perspective, living in the community, talking to people, observing the media, but also applying anthropological methods. Which turns the book into a harsh critique of neoliberalism, neocolonialism, and governments pushing “personal responsibility” to the exclusion of having to actually do anything themselves. Hondurans are overwhelmingly impoverished and governed by a small elite, and seem to have largely convinced themselves that their problems are a result of their own deficiencies—being “behind,” an inherently violent and drunken people, not working hard enough, etc. All of this overlooks the way larger economic forces, structural inequalities, and media portrayals affect them: young men going into gangs because there’s no work for them to do; the media and popular preachers amplifying acts of violence and the message that it’s people’s own fault; and so forth.
It’s really interesting to see a society examined from a knowledgeable anthropological perspective in this way. Much of the subject matter is wild and tragic: for instance, the Cold War era death squads essentially being reconvened to take out young gang-affiliated kids, and even progressives largely being okay with this because of their overwhelming fear of the violence that seems to have touched nearly every family. The section on how violence operates in society and how everybody blames themselves for it is particularly striking (and the U.S. in its involvement does not come out well). Some of the same themes appear in the alcohol section, with the powers that be pushing AA and other “it’s a personal problem” solutions without looking at the larger picture. This section might have benefited from a little more explanation for non-social scientists—Pine critiques the medical model of alcoholism in favor of, I assume, a social model, but doesn’t fully explain that part. I was also surprised at the assertion that drunken violence is largely cultural rather than an inherent quality of drunkenness, which apparently does have significant support that I wish she’d gone into here. Meanwhile, the maquiladora section discusses the treatment of workers, their resistance, the role of the factories in the larger society, and exploitation of poor workers in general.
Overall, a fascinating study with a lot more detail than there’s space to discuss in a review. I’d definitely recommend this one to those who are interested.
January 12, 2010
As someone who is currently living in Honduras, this book definitely confirmed a lot of things that I observe everyday, and also gave me some needed historical context/anthropological perspective on Honduras and its people. I must say that I have never formally studied anthropology before so some of the terms were confusing at first, but I found it to be a fascinating perspective on human behavior and the outside forces that lead to "embodied fear," etc.
The most relevant and fascinating chapter for me was the first one, on violence. This one, more than maquiladoras and alcohol, is the most relevant to me and the people that I know in Honduras. There are religiously-inspired bumper stickers on more than a few cars here that say "No mataras" (Thou shalt not kill). At first, I thought these stickers were laughable... "yeah, DUH!" As time went on and I realized how much of a problem (perceived or real) this is to everyday Hondurans who have lost family members to street violence and economically-motivated murders, I have started to have a slighty more somber reaction when I see the now.
I think the concept of embodied fear and resultant habitus made a lot of sense in the way that my roommates here in Honduras (who are Irani-Hondurans) behave and react to threats (real and perceived). They also would probably approve of the "mano dura"-style punishment policies and are currently calling on Pepe Lobo, the new president, to implement the death penalty to create "real consequences" for committing crimes. I often think their way of thinking is a little too harsh or overreacting, just as the author did occasionally when talking with people who approved of the "death squads" to rid the streets of gangs. And, like the author, I often get the response, "you would understand this if you lived here long enough to have seen and felt the same things we do."
After reading the book, I have become more sensitive to the subtle and not-so-subtle messages in media and through general conversations confirming the theme "Honduras is violent." The day I got back to Honduras after going home to the States for Christmas, a paperboy hawking papers on my bus read the headlines (which included gory pictures of a car crash on the front page, just as the author noted in her book). At one point he even said, after announcing an increase in gang-related crime in San Pedro Sula, "asi es Honduras, no?" That's Honduras for you, isn't it?" If you heard that every day of your life, you'd feel a little different about your homeland, wouldn't you?
Another thing from my observations down here that the book confirmed was the general Honduran inferiority complex... not only in relation to the United States, but also relative to other Central American countries (and especially Costa Rica). Unlike my brief travels in Bolivia, where being American was decidedly UNcool at times, American clothes, domestic products, etc are definitely considered status symbols and highly desired. The American flag really does appear everywhere to sell just about anything. "It must be better than Honduran goods..."
I gave this book 4 stars instead of 5 mostly because I felt that some of the arguments presented in the book were a bit of a stretch, and the fact that I would have preferred a stronger conclusion for each of the three "chapters." All in all, a fascinating and extremely helpful read.
The most relevant and fascinating chapter for me was the first one, on violence. This one, more than maquiladoras and alcohol, is the most relevant to me and the people that I know in Honduras. There are religiously-inspired bumper stickers on more than a few cars here that say "No mataras" (Thou shalt not kill). At first, I thought these stickers were laughable... "yeah, DUH!" As time went on and I realized how much of a problem (perceived or real) this is to everyday Hondurans who have lost family members to street violence and economically-motivated murders, I have started to have a slighty more somber reaction when I see the now.
I think the concept of embodied fear and resultant habitus made a lot of sense in the way that my roommates here in Honduras (who are Irani-Hondurans) behave and react to threats (real and perceived). They also would probably approve of the "mano dura"-style punishment policies and are currently calling on Pepe Lobo, the new president, to implement the death penalty to create "real consequences" for committing crimes. I often think their way of thinking is a little too harsh or overreacting, just as the author did occasionally when talking with people who approved of the "death squads" to rid the streets of gangs. And, like the author, I often get the response, "you would understand this if you lived here long enough to have seen and felt the same things we do."
After reading the book, I have become more sensitive to the subtle and not-so-subtle messages in media and through general conversations confirming the theme "Honduras is violent." The day I got back to Honduras after going home to the States for Christmas, a paperboy hawking papers on my bus read the headlines (which included gory pictures of a car crash on the front page, just as the author noted in her book). At one point he even said, after announcing an increase in gang-related crime in San Pedro Sula, "asi es Honduras, no?" That's Honduras for you, isn't it?" If you heard that every day of your life, you'd feel a little different about your homeland, wouldn't you?
Another thing from my observations down here that the book confirmed was the general Honduran inferiority complex... not only in relation to the United States, but also relative to other Central American countries (and especially Costa Rica). Unlike my brief travels in Bolivia, where being American was decidedly UNcool at times, American clothes, domestic products, etc are definitely considered status symbols and highly desired. The American flag really does appear everywhere to sell just about anything. "It must be better than Honduran goods..."
I gave this book 4 stars instead of 5 mostly because I felt that some of the arguments presented in the book were a bit of a stretch, and the fact that I would have preferred a stronger conclusion for each of the three "chapters." All in all, a fascinating and extremely helpful read.
May 3, 2020
It was a fascinating read. Despite having lived in Honduras the best part of a decade, I learned a lot, especially the sweatshops, the Korean population, alcoholism and death squads for the 80s. It was an interesting insight into the Honduran psyche and attitudes to foreigners, but also problems in their own country. There are interesting points of view I'd not considered, but I also identified with many points, especially the fear around violence, how people turn to evangelicalism and almost bipolar attitudes towards their own nation: they are very proud but also have low self esteem about their compariots.
I also found the views of the poor fascinating, especially the discrimination. I work with the poorer populations in the country, and I could identify with the discrimination they face, especially regarding gangs, the family unit and the changing roles of women.
I think where the book suffers is the unnecessary critiques of other articles or points of view which, in a couple of places, seems to have been included just to release the writer's own frustration or anger.
I enjoyed it though.
I also found the views of the poor fascinating, especially the discrimination. I work with the poorer populations in the country, and I could identify with the discrimination they face, especially regarding gangs, the family unit and the changing roles of women.
I think where the book suffers is the unnecessary critiques of other articles or points of view which, in a couple of places, seems to have been included just to release the writer's own frustration or anger.
I enjoyed it though.
September 16, 2012
After 2 years of working in Honduras, I read this ethnography to provide some cultural context re: the country's unshakable reputation for violence and corruption. I was not disappointed - Adrienne Pine expertly explored and uncovered the context behind so many things that I had observed myself but lacked the experience in-country and anthropological lexicon to understand/explain myself. Pine breaks the book into three sections - one on violence, one on the role of alcohol/substance use, and one on the maquilas (factories) - all underscoring the same story of desperation, poverty, and social capital in a country that is at once beautiful and broken. Despite being academic, I simply couldn't put this book down.
April 11, 2010
I just browsed this book for a paper I'm writing for a class, but I found it really interesting. A lot of first-hand accounts of the challenges facing Hondurans, and some interesting ideas about the connections between different aspects of life, such as working in maquilas and living in neighborhoods with high levels of gang presence. It also discusses the adverse consequences of intense police pressure to fight gang activity using a "zero tolerance" policy taken to the extreme.
September 4, 2018
I thought the introduction was good and learned a few things in this book - such as "death porn" (very graphic images of violence) being shown regularly on the news in Honduras.
Apart from the few things I learned, I didn't like the book all that much for several reasons.
Firstly, many of the author's arguments were stretched way too far to be believable. She reads a lot into certain situations, and makes presumptions without even trying to learn about additional cultural factors that play into why things are the way they are.
She has a special disdain for evangelical Christianity and Alcoholics Anonymous (the organization's history is rooted in evangelical Christianity) and constantly harps on their supposed evil.
She tends toward arguing that personal responsibility is never the answer to violence, and focuses on a political, and "big picture" violence, and apparently never realizes that collective change is only possible with individuals taking a stand.
I realize this book is not intended for the lay reader, but I still felt certain parts were too pretentiously written. For example:
"My aim in employing the Foucauldian concept of subjectivation is to stress that this "anonymous, pervasive pedagogic action" described by Bourdieu is not a benign process of acculturation to be viewed within a framework of cultural relativism." (p 12)
Blah, blah, blah.
I'd rather read a less biased book where the author writes more to inform than to impress.
Apart from the few things I learned, I didn't like the book all that much for several reasons.
Firstly, many of the author's arguments were stretched way too far to be believable. She reads a lot into certain situations, and makes presumptions without even trying to learn about additional cultural factors that play into why things are the way they are.
She has a special disdain for evangelical Christianity and Alcoholics Anonymous (the organization's history is rooted in evangelical Christianity) and constantly harps on their supposed evil.
She tends toward arguing that personal responsibility is never the answer to violence, and focuses on a political, and "big picture" violence, and apparently never realizes that collective change is only possible with individuals taking a stand.
I realize this book is not intended for the lay reader, but I still felt certain parts were too pretentiously written. For example:
"My aim in employing the Foucauldian concept of subjectivation is to stress that this "anonymous, pervasive pedagogic action" described by Bourdieu is not a benign process of acculturation to be viewed within a framework of cultural relativism." (p 12)
Blah, blah, blah.
I'd rather read a less biased book where the author writes more to inform than to impress.
March 14, 2013
This ethnography is an excellent discussion of the impacts of neoliberalism, US intervention, and colonialism on Honduran lives. This is the second time I have read and taught the ethnography.
Pine is an excellent analyst and social critic, however I wish she was a little more culturally sensitive in her analysis of Evangelical religion and Alcoholics Anonymous. I agree with her critique of their individualizing tendencies rooted in an achievement ideology, but there are other things that religion (or AA) does for people. Other ethnographers of Latin America have documented this (I'm thinking of Burdick's work in Brazil) without compromising a critical analysis of power.
My other critique is that the book is clearly a dissertation quickly edited into book format and it needs some reorganization. I'm really surprised her editor did not do more work on that.
Pine is an excellent analyst and social critic, however I wish she was a little more culturally sensitive in her analysis of Evangelical religion and Alcoholics Anonymous. I agree with her critique of their individualizing tendencies rooted in an achievement ideology, but there are other things that religion (or AA) does for people. Other ethnographers of Latin America have documented this (I'm thinking of Burdick's work in Brazil) without compromising a critical analysis of power.
My other critique is that the book is clearly a dissertation quickly edited into book format and it needs some reorganization. I'm really surprised her editor did not do more work on that.
October 1, 2015
It helps me a lot to get to know about Honduras.
Displaying 1 - 8 of 8 reviews