Book Reviews 1061 versus foreign decision making that controlled the building and modernization of railways and ports, while highlighting the decreased trust in knowledge coming from Europe and the increase in “homegrown expertise.” Local engineers sought more control over foreign com- panies, citing that these foreign engineers were not acquainted with the terrain. Finally, the purpose of education was a matter of debate, especially during the wars of independence, where there was much reference to popular education and the need for literacy by people of all social ranks. Latin American governments understood the importance of elementary edu- cation to the broader community. However, issues arose as education was used as a vehicle of indoctrination, with nations installing curricula based on state-approved commitments to morality and patriotism, and in countries like Peru, for example, elementary education be- ing seen as urban-base when more than half of the population was rural, and with education policies ignoring the ways of life of Indigenous peoples. Republics of Knowledge: Nations of the Future in Latin America offers an intellectual sojourn to nineteenth-century Spanish America formulating inquiries as to who has access to knowl- edge, what type of knowledge is considered more valuable, the legitimacy of knowledge born or shaped by a nation, and the importance of knowledge to construct national identity. To conclude, this book is concerned mainly with knowledge within an intellectual, political, and transnational perspective from a primarily creole and white men perspective. In addition, at least one of the chapters addresses the role of national and public libraries. Let us hope Miller will grant us future publications detailing her findings on indigenous knowledge and its historical contribution to Spanish America.—Kathia Ibacache, University of Colorado Boulder Esther Milne. Email and the Everyday: Stories of Disclosure, Trust, and Digital Labor. Cam- bridge, MA: MIT Press, 2021. 336p. Hardcover, $35.00 (ISBN 978-0-262-04563-6). As academic library workers, we often disparage the ways in which email runs our lives as a bureaucratic and affective technology. Typi- cally we give it no more thought due to its banality in our lives. It is strangely familiar, boring, and often an afterthought, until we make a poorly calculated, and usually extraordinary, misstep. Esther Milne argues that this tension between the banal and extraordinary is what makes email a compelling focus for media and cultural studies, given the arrival of “moments where email communication becomes odd, unfamiliar, and at times perhaps even exotic” (15). Despite its omni- presence, Milne notes that email has been largely overlooked by these fields, and this book is an ambitious attempt at undertaking a wide view of email as a larger media landscape. For Milne, email is never simply just correspondence; it must be understood broadly in terms of its structure, infrastructure, and variant contexts of use. Milne’s introduction to the book focuses on providing a broader context to validate email as a phenomenon worthy of deeper study, informed by historical, methodological, and theo- retical approaches. While well-represented in studies about workplace behavior and email use, linguistics, letter-writing, literature, and internet history, Milne specifically notes its un- derrepresentation in media, communications, and cultural studies research, despite several specific works by media scholars. More glaring to Milne is the astonishing gap given that cultural theory often studies the “everyday”; examples include the work of Donna Haraway, 1062 College & Research Libraries November 2021 Nick Couldry, and Ben Highmore. Milne’s book’s focus on the sociotechnical and affective practices around email’s use is informed by two mixed-method online surveys (both N > 1,000), interviews, and close analysis of primary and secondary sources. Central to Milne’s engagement with the everyday is her focus on stories and the complexity of email as a “media manifold” as described by Couldry. The remainder of the book focuses on three major themes: “Histories and Landscapes” (email’s technical and historical foundations); “Affect and Labor” (exemplified through both institutional email and email lists); and “Archives and Publics,” which relates how email constructs, comprises, and interacts with the public sphere and cultural landscape. The first two chapters in the “Histories and Landscapes” section focus on primary moments in email history through sociotechnical and metahistorical lenses. Milne explores primary stories and their context (the construction of email address syntax and header formats bound to the con- ditions or structures under which they were needed or created), as well as counterclaims to narratives of invention of email as a means to demonstrate the tension between the banality and exceptionality of the everyday. The third chapter in the section focuses more broadly on the “email industry”—including email providers, marketing firms, and analytics vendors—to demonstrate the complexity of email as a media manifold. Unlike commercial sectors like the entertainment business, the email industry has also been understudied by media and cultural studies. Email analytics belie the complexity of how people interact with email on a variety of devices, and how many email providers (for example: Gmail, operated by Google), make changes to give them a competitive advantage. The chapters in “Affect and Labor” investigate in more depth how email is used: first, workplace use of email and its role as a form of “bureaucratic register” laden with affect, and the affective labor involved with email list moderation. Milne describes the changing nature of work and our own perceptions of bureaucracy, exemplified by how we use and interact with email and its affective and psychological impact on each of us. While bureaucracy is commonly viewed as reducing emotion or affect, Milne describes a slippage from the conventional register as “bureaucratic intensity,” wherein affect bubbles to the surface in work email in ways that are in hindsight recognized as unacceptable. Milne’s analysis of email list moderation echoes recent scholarly work on social media content moderation, although she rightfully notes that the practice predates it. Her stories on email list use and moderation center on the importance of sharing stories in various support groups, and how moderators view their (often uncom- pensated) labor. The two chapters in “Archives and Publics” focus on how emails constitute various public spheres and domains as well as how they get reinterpreted in various settings. The first chapter focuses on case studies of the slippage among public, personal, professional, and private email by investigating the Enron corpus and Hillary Clinton’s private email used during her tenure as Secretary of State and how disclosure operates across these contexts. Like Milne’s other examples, she argues that these public and private domains are in tension. The final chapter investigates email as an art form and aesthetic subject, investigating how it has been informed by past stylistic and creative practices such as epistolary literature and mail art, and through looking at specific creative works represented as or representative of email. Email and the Everyday meets Milne’s goal of addressing the complexity of email as a ubiq- uitous media landscape through evocative and familiar stories of the everyday drawn from her research methodology and contextualized through additional examples drawn from sec- ondary sources. While her project is ambitious and is largely successful, its major weaknesses Book Reviews 1063 relate to its ambition. The shift across various stories demonstrates the complexity of email as a media manifold; but, at times, any given section or chapter could have gone deeper. Milne also hastily engages with email archives in her conclusion but overlooks more recent work by archivists. Nonetheless, the book has done its duty to argue for more in-depth scholarly investigation. Library workers curious about how to best serve media and cultural studies scholars are encouraged to read this book as they engage with how our institutions can sup- port the study of email considering this manifold complexity: as record, media, commercial sector, and cultural phenomenon.—Mark A. Matienzo, Stanford University Moya Bailey. Misogynoir Transformed: Black Women’s Digital Resistance. New York, NY: NYU Press, 2020. 248p. Hardcover, $28.00 (ISBN: 9781479865109). Moya Bailey is known for coining the term “misogynoir,” defined as the “particular venom directed at Black women through negative representations in Media” (xiii). Bailey has personal experience with this phenomenon. She gained a name for herself in the world of hip- hop cultural criticism in 2004 as an undergraduate student at Spelman College when she led a protest of the rapper Nelly’s visit to her college campus. At the time, Nelly had been named “Misogynist of the Month” at Spelman, a women’s college and HBCU in Atlanta, because of his controversial, sexually explicit music video “Tip Drill.” The music video was constantly replayed on television and included graphic and explicit sexuality involving Black women. Bailey and her classmates were unaware that the college had agreed to host a bone-marrow drive for the rapper’s sister, who had leukemia. The student protest upended the bone-marrow drive, gained national attention, and is still discussed as a pivotal moment in hip-hop. Bailey and her classmates at Spelman received condemnation for their stance nationwide. Bailey cites this experience as the catalyst to her coining of the term “misogynoir.” In Misogynoir Transformed, Bailey builds on this legacy, introducing readers to the concept of misogynoir and centering Black women in the fight against these narratives. Bailey traces the impact of misogynoir including hypersexualized descriptions of Black women that have existed since the country’s founding, the mockery of minstrel shows, the subservient mammy stereotypes and “welfare queens” of mainstream television, and more recent representations of Black queer folks from the web. Bailey uses an in-depth analysis of social media trending topics to create a vivid depiction of how users interact with stories about Black women. In four fantastic chapters, Bailey outlines the role Black women play in transforming perceptions in Media and how they work to resist misogynoir as a dominant cultural narrative. In chapter 1, “Misogynoir Is a Drag,” Bailey looks at how misogynoir has been displayed in digital spaces by men in “drag.” Readers new to this discussion are provided with the contextual description of the historical stereotypes of the Sapphire character, which grew from minstrel shows, to the relatively recent performances of Sheneneh by Martin Lawrence, Madea by Tyler Perry, and a viral character named Peaches written by Lena Waithe. These extremely popular comical performances have further bolstered perceptions of black women as unintelligent, undesirable, and lacking in femininity. Bailey’s exploration of drag perfor- mance also acknowledges the effect this comedic practice has on nonbinary people and trans women by making trans women the butt of jokes and pushing them outside of the realm of