Excerpt: Blood Meridian is a historical novel that tells story of settler colonial conquest in the borderlands of Northern Mexico in the years following the US-Mexico war of 1848. It fictionalizes the actions of a group of American scalp hunters who were paid by the Mexican state after the signing of the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo to help exterminate the Apache peoples and other Indigenous groups whose claims to and defense of their ancestral lands stood in the way of Mexican and US settler colonial expansion. The novel demonstrates that the essence of this history is like that of the very desert where the events of colonial conquest and violence take place: “This desert upon which so many have been broken is vast and calls for largeness of heart but it is also ultimately empty. It is hard, it is barren. Its very nature is stone.”5 In emphasizing the nature of colonial conquest and violence as “stone,” which is to say, as a history of the nonhuman, Blood Meridian becomes an important text that helps us understand the historical trajectory and political meanings of post-humanist materialism. This essay will demonstrate through a reading of McCarthy’s novel that post-humanist materialism not only embodies a neoliberal colonial politics of recognition, reconciliation and affirmation that functions to erase the structural violence found in the histories of colonialism and capitalism, but is also a theoretical and aesthetic project premised on, even as it disavows, the settler colonial (re)production of indigeneity as the social ontology of the savage, wild, nonhuman outside to modern liberal humanism. In what follows, then, I want to argue for a reading of post-humanist materialism that understands it as a neoliberal settler ideology that traces and tracks, just as much as it seeks to manage and legitimate, the ongoing role of settler colonialism in our era of late capitalism.








Abstract: Mira Jacob`s 2014 debut novel, The Sleepwalker`s Guide to Dancing, spans several decades piecing together the story of the Eapens` immigration from India to America as Syrian Christian Indians (St. Thomas Christians from India, also known as the Suriani). Throughout the novel, Thomas and Kamala Eapens use the word “American” in a vaguely racialized manner to indicate people other than Suriani “Indians,” usually white, yet the novel constantly uses “Indian” to refer to both Indian Americans and American Indians without distinction. The central locations of the novel, Albuquerque and Seattle, sites of historical dislocation of indigenous peoples and ongoing settler colonialism, renders this slippage as doubly problematic. The conflation of “Indian” is further complicated through Amina, the Eapens` daughter, who has to exorcise the ghosts of Bobby McCloud, a leader of the Puyallup tribe of Tacoma Indians whose suicide in a garish “Cherokee male” costume from Sally`s Party Supply she happened to capture on film, and of Akhil, her brother, “the Indian James Dean,” who committed suicide as a teenager and who once told Amina that “Indians don`t leave” because “they`re into the whole live forever-in-misery thing” before she can move on with her life and claim American belonging for herself. As Amina negotiates what it means to be American as a non-white immigrant dislocated herself by the legacy of colonialism participating in the settler colonialism that dislocated the indigenous population, she realizes that she has to exorcise the ghosts of both Indians, Bobby and Akhil, in order to become American. Thus, Amina`s narrative, as an extension and continuation of her parents, the Eapens`, demonstrates how non-white and non-Western European immigrants can also choose active participation in settler colonialism and its logic of elimination as an expedited path to belonging in America.


Access the preliminary program here.