152 College & Research Libraries January 2022 manner in which built-in kitchen cabinets are arranged in relation to refrigerators, ranges, and ovens, offers a vestigial promise of better living by getting one’s house in order. And by the time GUIs made their way into computing, the language of the filing cabinet had become so naturalized that both the file folder and its companion, the trash bin, became icons to orient users in operating a new piece of machinery. It is difficult to do justice to Robertson’s thrilling history of the filing cabinet. Other out- standing surprises include a panoply of amusing images—early advertisements depicting men jumping into open filing cabinet drawers to demonstrate just how well-built a particular cabinet is, disembodied and shapely hands caught in the act of opening a file drawer (sex, as always, seems to sell), ridiculous cartoons—and even a poem gently mocking secretaries making filing errors while distracted by the thought of after-work dates and other frivolities. A useful and thought-provoking text for those of us dependent on the filing cabinet and the subsequent technologies they inspire, this book deserves a wider readership in both the art historical and cultural studies fields.—Caleb Allen, Independent Scholar Notes 1. That’s right—strip down your filing cabinet, add a heating element, and you too could be making a few briskets in a Fire King filing cabinet. Prefer something more novel? That’s alright, you can transform your ne- glected filing cabinet into a rotisserie as well. Routledge Handbook of Critical Indigenous Studies. Brendan Hokowhitu, Aileen Moreton- Robinson, Linda Tuhiwai-Smith, Chris Andersen, and Steve Larkin, eds. Milton Park, UK: Routledge, 2020. 632p, 32 B/W illustrations. $250.00 (ISBN 978-1138341302). For better or worse, Routledge has a long history of publishing content on Indigenous peoples and has recently published handbooks on In- digenous people’s rights, Indigenous peoples of the Arctic, Indigenous environmental knowledge, and, most recently, Indigenous well-being. The Routledge Handbook of Critical Indigenous Studies was published in late 2020; it asserts that it is “ambitious in scope, ranging across disci- plines and national boundaries, with particular reference to the lived conditions of Indigenous peoples in the first world.” As one would hope, all authors are Indigenous, with roughly a third of the authors identifying as Native American or First Nations peoples, one third as Māori, and the remaining third of authors as Ab- original, Kānaka Maoli or Kānaka ʻōiwi, Sámi, Alaska Native, Mexican, and Samoan. In many ways, I am the model audience for this book, as an Indigenous practitioner in multiple disciplines and professional spaces. Additionally, many of the authors in this vol- ume are scholars whose works I had read previously and whose works I follow closely. On a personal note, it is nice to see other Māori scholars so well-represented in a mainstream work. However, I see this book as having a broad appeal across many disciplines, ranging from Indigenous studies (including Hawaiian, Māori, Pacific Islander, Native American, First Nations, or other Ethnic Studies departments or programs), history, sociology, anthropology, gender or queer studies, law, politics, literature, social movements, and more. Moreover, this book embodies a spirit of collaboration and an uplifting of Indigenous ways of knowledge sharing that is evident in the very organization of the book. A different Book Reviews 153 Indigenous editor guides each of the five main sections of this handbook, organized as follows: Part 1—Disciplinary knowledge and epistemology (Chris Andersen, Métis); Part 2—Indig- enous theory and method (Linda Tuhiwai Smith, Ngāti Awa, Ngāti Porou, Tūhourangi); Part 3—Sovereignty (Aileen Moreton-Robinson, Goenpul); Part 4—Political economies, ecologies, and technologies (Steve Larkin, Kungarakan), and Part 5—Bodies, performance, and praxis (Brendan Hokowhitu, Ngāti Pūkenga). In a time where many pivotal Indigenous conferences and gatherings have been post- poned or squeezed into unaccommodating online platforms, this volume meets a need for a celebratory gathering of Indigenous scholars. The 43 chapters include personal narratives, poetry, and retelling of stories, in addition to the more traditionally theoretical text one might expect in an academic handbook. It all has a place here, from Linda Tuhiwai Smith’s mul- tilayered narrative of Indigenous perspectives on COVID-19, to Michelle M. Hogue’s piece on how centering Indigenous sovereignty can transform Indigenous retention and outcomes within STEM. Several scholars within this volume take the opportunity to reflect on Indigenous Studies as a discipline and the complicated way that Indigenous scholars navigate aca- demia. For example, the opening chapter by Chris Andersen gives a history of the Native American and Indigenous Studies Association (NAISA), and the tension between support for Indigenous studies from NAISA and from the institutions where NAISA members are employed. The following chapter, by poet and scholar Alice Te Punga Somerville, uses her personal narrative to trace the ways Indigenous scholars have their legitimacy dictated by an institution. Examples include whether te reo Māori is accepted as a foreign language requirement in an American PhD program, or whether a Māori literary scholar with four degrees in English should be based in English studies or Māori studies. Across chapters, authors reflect on our similarities with and differences from other disciplines, and the ways that colonization has impacted our presence in the academy, and non-Indigenous perceptions of our work. Dr. Te Punga Somerville writes, We often talk about the ways that Indigenous Studies looks and works so differently in nation-state contexts, as if specificity overriding uniformity is a bad thing or unique to Indigenous Studies. But English looks different in different places too: English in New Zealand is supremely white, and extremely conservative, whereas departments of Eng- lish in the United States (and Canada) tend to be places that critical thinking about race, colonialism, gender, sexuality, etc. happen. At 632 pages, this is a hefty volume that presents Indigenous knowledge as a dynamic set of frameworks that both draw from our traditional knowledges and set aspirations for those of us in the academy—students, workers, and elders alike. While identity, region, and focus shift from one author to another, ideals of relationality and community do not. Some of our elders are represented here—such as Linda Tuhiwai Smith, known as the Mother of Indigenous Studies. With sadness, I note that the late Haunani-Kay Trask did not have a piece in this volume—undoubtedly due to illness, not an editorial oversight. Both Trask and Smith were elected to the American Academy of Arts and Sciences this year, with both scholars noted as founding Hawai’ian and Māori tertiary studies in their respective homelands. 154 College & Research Libraries January 2022 Still, the late Dr. Trask is cited throughout the book, and scholar Nālani Wilson-Hokow- hitu writes, “I write in honour of Haunani and our long lineage of mana wāhine.” Many of the authors pay their respects to those who encouraged, mentored, and supported them on their academic journeys, past and present—a reminder of the sovereignty, disciplines, and enduring care that are core to Indigenous ways of knowing, and that makes the Routledge Handbook of Critical Indigenous Studies such a compelling and energetic volume.—Nicola An- drews, University of San Francisco Intellectual Freedom Manual, 10th ed. Comp. the Office for Intellectual Freedom. Martin Garnar and Trina Magi, eds. Chicago, IL: American Library Association, 2021. 352p. Paper, $69.99 ($62.99 ALA members) (ISBN 9780838948187). Intellectual freedom (IF), the freedom to seek and obtain information across viewpoints, is a long-supported ethical cornerstone of librarianship. Supporting intellectual freedom within libraries is widely seen as a vital underpinning to democracy. This newest edition of the IFM, like former editions, recounts and explicates the history of intellectual freedom within the profession. Comprising 16 sections (over three parts), the updated edition includes 17 essays by such renowned IF scholars as Deborah Caldwell-Stone, Theresa Chmara, Kristin Pekoll, Helen R. Adams, and others. As such, the IFM remains the authoritative reference work on this subject and makes a strong case for why intellectual freedom mat- ters while giving practical advice on how to support intellectual freedom within the library. This edition also continues the IFM’s tradition of evolving and adapting topics in response to the evolution of libraries and librarianship. Accordingly, some valuable ancillary issues are included for discussion, while other information has been taken out or added. Copy- right is a wise inclusion carried over from the 9th edition, but now gone is the “Deeper Look” specifically dealing with privacy concerns and RFID. The section dealing with “Meeting Rooms, Exhibit Spaces, Programming, and Education” has also been expanded on from the 9th edition. A particularly useful addition is section 10 (in the second part), entitled “Special Lenses: Guidance across Issues.” This section includes chapters on Equity, Diversity, and Inclusion, Intellectual Freedom for Academic Libraries, Politics, Religion, Free Expression, and the Visual and Perform- ing Arts. Though such a section may seem to be a bit of a hodge-podge, the effect is rather that any questions or uncertainties on the part of the reader have been anticipated and addressed. This foresight regarding readers’ potential anxieties is one of the IFM’s major strengths. Ample resources to learn more about an issue are provided throughout the IFM, including the ALA core intellectual freedom documents such as the Library Bill of Rights and the Code of Ethics as well as official ALA policy statements and advice on creating intellectual freedom policies for libraries. In addition, references to further resources are found throughout the manual. Indeed, the IFM is a complete examination of intellectual freedom from multiple angles. This newest edition comes at an interesting and complicated time for librarianship due to the particularly fractious political divide within the United States. What does intellectual freedom mean in such an era of social reckoning, and why should a library or a community care about IF, especially when hate speech or challenges to library decisions might feel per- sonally harmful to some library workers and community members? This manual does not resolve that issue for the individual reader. Intellectual freedom, for libraries, depends on a