1 The Power of Objects posits that assemblages of objects were a means by which regional and then national identities developed in the major ports of British America, particularly before and after the American Revolution. The consumption and production of material culture by elites, including the upwardly-mobile middling sort such as merchants, planters, politicians, and others with imperial interests, were central to this evolution. Objects were used to build status, create networks, and establish social position. These included artworks ranging from engravings and prints to formal portraits and sculpture; furniture; ceramics, and more unusual “material things” such as artificial limbs and live-tooth transplants.

2 The book examines themes such as how shared imagery among artwork by the same artist found in different ports or regions projected and built not only mercantile connections, but concepts such as social status, civility, and at first at least, empire. Van Horn’s thinking about the active role objects played in early America and their effects on human behaviour is shaped by the network concepts of Bruno Latour, Daniel Miller, and various scholars of the Atlantic world and early empire. The argument is illustrated, literally and figuratively, with a wide range of objects and case studies from the thirteen colonies. Initially fragile provincial networks of objects were shaped not only by the metropole, but also by African American and Native American cultures. The use by settler elites of material culture to reinforce status, civility, mercantilism, and empire also aided in differentiating polite, civilized society from the savage and wild Other, both African American and Indigenous.

3 The use of sources such as correspondence, poetry, humour, and fiction amply supports the argument on how material culture was being deployed, consciously or unconsciously. Each chapter highlights different thematic aspects of these networks in chronological fashion, from mid-century and a time of imperial unrest, through the Revolution, and into the era of the early republic. From analysing prints purchased by subscribers in various port cities, to an indepth study of the uses of the work of the artist John Wollaston in Philadelphia, via analyses of tombstone portraits in Charleston to examining materiality, gender, marriage and social identity there and in New York, the book provides a tour de force of how material objects were utilised in this manner throughout the eighteenth century— sometimes in unexpected ways.

4 More than half the book focuses on gender, and how emerging independence for women at the upper end of society, and their sexuality, was represented in material culture. From portraits, to dressing furniture or participation in masquerades, Van Horn demonstrates how such use, often erotic, could threaten perceptions of gender roles and raise anxieties for social order around both women’s sexuality and the various imperial crises.

5 A highlight of the book is the examination of how, via amputees and visible artificial limbs, concepts of the body framed emerging conceptions of the republic and its manhood. Just as American and British political prints sometimes viewed the separation of the former colonies from the British empire as a form of violent political dismemberment that required the detached limbs to be reassembled into a new republic, so amputees from the War of Independence saw prostheses as a means to reassert their manliness, virility, and worthiness to be an American citizen. Citizenship basically required one to be able-bodied, and the many amputees following the American War of Independence were perceived as somehow defective, in the same manner as a broken tool would be (just as sick men in the militaries and navies of this period would be considered “unserviceable,” like a defective weapon). Artificial limbs provided a means for these men to reassert their virility, both as individuals and as a public body, such as when prominent amputees like Gouverneur Morris or others participated in forums such as the Continental Congress.

6 While the book has excellent extensive notes (even found in their proper place at the bottom of the page), there is no bibliography—likely a trade-off with the publisher for the former, given the length of the work and the number of wonderful visual depictions of material culture. Another minor quibble is that while the book proclaims in its title to discuss British America, the focus is almost entirely from the perspective of the thirteen colonies. Beyond an introductory case study involving the artist Joseph Blackburn and Bermuda, there is nary a mention of other parts of 18th century British America writ large, or an effort to identify similar (or different) object-driven identity formation or networks in say, Québec or Nova Scotia in the same period. Similarly, while Indigenous cultures are examined primarily in terms of how they were used as a means of reinforcing difference between settlers and Native Americans, an analysis of captivity narratives (such as Linda Colley’s work) and other Indigenous culture influences in the opposite direction seem to be missing from the discussion to some extent. One also wonders what influence and similarities (if any) French or Spanish material culture had on this process in the thirteen colonies. But to be fair to the author, both of those subjects are worthy of separate treatment in their own right.

7 The book concludes with an intriguing thesis concerning George Washington’s less-visible live-tooth transplants. Washington’s body became a public means of expressing political civility via carefully selected clothing and background objects for his portraits. But kept hidden, Washington’s need for dentures resulted in his purchase of teeth from his own slaves, for live transplant. This was done by one of the leading advocates of the procedure, Jean Pierre Le Mayeur, a French dentist who had immigrated to the United States. Van Horn contends that “…in order to fix his ‘deformity,’ Washington was willing to compromise his bodily integrity and to risk bringing parts of uncouth African Americans within his body” (406). This early republic presidential persona was then communicated via a series of portraits and engravings of the new leader. These allowed subscribers, often women who were barred from participating in politics, to demonstrate their allegiance to the new American nation and its success via the “perfect civility” (408) of Washington’s presidential body—an assemblage of objects that was both “civil and savage” (406).

8 This beautifully illustrated and engaging work uses the material turn and excellent research to build upon earlier scholarship in thought-provoking, new ways. It is well worth a place on the bookshelf of anyone interested in the material culture of the 18th century Atlantic world and empire.