Sex for Sale: Prostitution, Pornography, and the Sex Industry

How do poor people cope with, and even make sense of, toxic danger? This book is a ‘‘story of silent habituation to contamination and of almost complete absence of mass protest against toxic onslaught’’ (p. 4). As such, it is distinct from much of the social movement literature, and also the ethnographies of the poor. The dependent variable in the social movement literature is community protest; we find protest, and try to explain its appearance, citing such things as ‘‘cognitive liberation. ’’ But what about the many more communities that would seem ripe for protest, but do not? How, in particular, can we explain the ‘‘silent habituation to contamination’’ that is often associated with slum communities? Why the ‘‘perpetuation of ignorance, mistake, and confusion’’ (p. 8) on the part of the residents, despite ample evidence of contamination? The book explores ‘‘the reproduction of uncertainty, misunderstanding, division, and ultimately, inaction in the face of sustained toxic assault’’ (p. 8). ‘‘Uncertainty and ignorance,’’ they claim ‘‘have not been a dominant focus among ethnographers’’ (p. 12). True or not, here the authors explore it in rich detail. The place is a settlement on the edge of Buenos Aires. With two-and-one-half years of intensive fieldwork they have intimate knowledge of the community, and the second author, Debora Swistun, was born and raised in the town, and only left at the end of the fieldwork. Javier Auyero, no stranger to poverty research in Latin America, came in from the University of Texas for long stays. This is an ethnography, loosely structured, and like most ethnographies it is theoretically undernourished. The repeated references to Bourdieuian aphorisms such as ‘‘symbolic violence,’’ ‘‘schemata of perception,’’ ‘‘how domination works,’’ and the curious ‘‘site effects’’ (where ‘‘what is lived and seen on the ground’’ is really ‘‘elsewhere’’) (p. 159) do not structure the argument. The authors’ excellent narratives make it clear that the domination is more material than symbolic, and the pervasiveness of the pollution—air, water, soil—speaks to the silent contamination more strongly than the mechanisms and metaphors in the literature they repeatedly cite. Though much of the material has appeared elsewhere in scholarly journals, where it is more tightly organized, the leisurely pace and intimacy of this presentation has many virtues. Unfortunately, however, the lack of a decent index, so easily constructed on a computer, is not one of them. In addition to its dramatic focus upon ignorance, mistake and confusion in the community, there is a striking emphasis upon the link between environment and misery. Scholars, they say, have remained silent for a long time about environmental factors as the key determinants in the reproduction of destitution and inequity. They see it as the missing dimension in the study of poverty in Latin America. Graphically, and in wrenching detail, they show how the polluted space the urban poor live in compounds the normal problems of poverty. The silent, often invisible, steady accumulation of poisons appears to feed the resignation and displace the blame. It may be the shantytowns of Argentina which have had protests have not had the full environmental assault Flammable has had. The settlement was once an area with many small farms and fruit trees, clean water from a river, and a white-sand beach in the estuary. Gradually, but implacably, it became a hellhole, a toxic dumping ground, surrounded by one of the largest petrochemical compounds in the country. The Shell refinery is the biggest, but there is another oil refinery, three plants that store oil, several that store chemical products, one that manufactures chemical products, and a power plant. The settlement expanded into the