Reviewed by:

• Bodies in Blue: Disability in the Civil War North by Sarah Handley-Cousins
• Brian Matthew Jordan

In this thought-provoking monograph, Sarah Handley-Cousins frames the Civil War as a social and cultural contest over bodies—and what military service was capable of doing to them. The war’s seemingly inexhaustible capacity for human destruction has not been lost on scholars, but our histories too often imitate the skeptical gaze of regimental surgeons, pension examiners, and nineteenth-century newspaper editors. Taking cues from histories of disability—and noting the ways pension files, case histories, and asylum records are polluted by power dynamics—Handley-Cousins places sick and disabled men at the center of her narrative, recovering a range of lived experiences that mocked assumptions about disability, gender, and war. She challenges us to ponder how Union soldiers and veterans (especially those whose injuries and ailments were not perceptible and who were thus subject to a more intense scrutiny and skepticism) toggled between pride and pain, narratives of sacrifice and dependence, and notions of martial masculinity and maladjustment. In a short compass, she tallies several important arguments that should point the field in some promising new directions.

Across six thematic chapters, Handley-Cousins maps the liminal space occupied by disabled Union soldiers during the Civil War and its long aftermath (74). The first chapter recalls the Veteran Reserve Corps (VRC). Civil War Americans “associated disability with dependency”; as such, the VRC provided an important venue in which disabled men could toil behind the lines, in hospitals, and remedy federal manpower woes (12). Yet service in the VRC often compelled men to take up domestic tasks deemed the province of women and African Americans; further, it labeled them as “simultaneously . . . able and unable” (12). Though cultural productions and public speeches announced that physical injuries were [End Page 56] “patriotic sacrifices,” such work “failed to exorcise the anxiety” the men felt about their injuries (30).

This anxiety was amplified for men without empty sleeves or missing legs. Handley-Cousins reminds that despite the ubiquity of amputation in the war’s visual culture and popular memory, “disability from illness” and chronic disease “was a far more common experience” among Union soldiers (34). Probing court-martial records and building on historian Kathryn Shively Meier’s notion of “self-care,” the author recovers the wartime struggles of the “walking sick,” whose “perceptions of their own bodies” often failed to align with their officers’ orders and the dictates of “martial masculinity” (37). That conflict also manifested itself in the creation of the Army Medical Museum. Shauna Devine and other previous scholars have looked to the wartime project as a key endeavor in the professionalization of medical science, but Handley-Cousins argues that it betrays “medical authorities’ power over vulnerable bodies” (61). Such authority, however, was subject to the sharp protest of veterans’ and their loved ones, who publicly questioned the propriety of harvesting bits of bone from battlefields (69).

The agency of veterans is key to the next two chapters. The first superbly demonstrates how Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain “lived as both a war hero and an emasculated cripple” (75). Responding to recent scholarly debates about how successfully veterans readjusted to civilian life, Handley-Cousins appeals for “a more nuanced interpretation of Civil War disability, one that . . . allows soldiers and veterans to feel contradictory emotions” (93). Her claim may paint recent scholarship with too broad of a brush, but her important point stands. Chamberlain’s wound rendered him restive and chronically sick and very likely contributed to his marital difficulties and workaholism; nonetheless, he “worked hard to craft a public persona” that aligned with the “standards of able-bodied manhood” (78, 92). Veterans who appealed for government aid certainly understood the power of those cultural precepts, as “notions of manhood and disability” were used to curtail the pension rolls (97). “Those who failed to adhere to the expectations of idealized manhood or who lived with ailments outside the Pension Bureau’s definition of disability,” Handley-Cousins contends...

审核人：

• 蓝色尸体：北内战中的残疾作者：莎拉·汉德利（Sarah Handley-Cousins）
• 布莱恩·马修·乔丹

在这本发人深省的专着中，萨拉·汉德利·库辛（Sarah Handley-Cousins）将内战描绘成一场关于身体的社会和文化竞赛，以及对士兵的军事能力。战争似乎没有使人类毁灭性的取之不尽的能力，但学者们并没有因此而丧失他们的历史，但我们的历史常常模仿军团外科医生，养恤金审查员和19世纪报纸编辑的怀疑目光。借鉴残疾历史的线索-注意到养老金档案，病历和庇护记录受到权力动态的污染-Handley-Cousins将患病和残疾的人置于其叙述的中心，从而恢复了一系列嘲弄假设的生活经历有关残疾，性别和战争的信息。她向我们提出挑战，要思考联盟士兵和退伍军人（特别是那些受伤和疾病无法察觉并因此受到更严格审查和怀疑的人）如何在骄傲和痛苦，牺牲和依赖的叙述以及武术男性气概之间切换和失调。用简短的指南针，她列举了几个重要的论点，这些论点应该为该领域指明一些有希望的新方向。

在六个主题章节中，Handley-Cousins绘制了南北战争期间及其长期后果后联盟伤残士兵占领的门廊空间（74）。第一章回顾了退伍军人预备队（VRC）。内战美国人“将残疾与依赖联系在一起”；因此，VRC提供了一个重要的场所，残疾人可以在这里辛勤工作，在医院里劳作，并补救联邦人力方面的麻烦（12）。然而，VRC的服务通常迫使男性承担家务活，这被认为是女性和非裔美国人的省。此外，它还将它们标记为“同时”。。。有能力和无能力”（12）。尽管文化节目和公开演讲宣布人身伤害是[End Page 56] “爱国牺牲”，这样的工作“未能消除人们对他们的伤害的焦虑”（30）。

对于没有空袖或双腿缺失的男性，这种焦虑感会加剧。Handley-Cousins提醒说，尽管战争的视觉文化和普遍记忆中普遍存在截肢手术，但在联盟士兵中，“因疾病而致残”和“慢性病”是“更为普遍的经历”（34）。探寻法庭军事记录并以历史学家凯瑟琳·希夫利·迈耶（Kathryn Shively Meier）的“自理”概念为基础，作者恢复了“行病者”在战时的挣扎，他们对“自己的身体”的认识常常未能符合军官的命令和“ mart夫男子气概”的指示（37）。这种冲突在陆军医学博物馆的创建中也得到了体现。绍纳·迪瓦恩（Shauna Devine）和其他先前的学者已经将战时计划视为医学专业化的关键举措，但是Handley-Cousins辩称，它出卖了“医疗机构对脆弱身体的控制权”（61）。然而，这种权威遭到了退伍军人及其亲人的强烈抗议，他们公开质疑从战场上收获骨头的适当性（69）。

退伍军人机构是接下来两章的关键。第一个极好的例子证明了约书亚·劳伦斯·张伯伦如何“既是战争英雄又是割的live子”（75）。在回应有关退伍军人如何成功地适应平民生活方面的最新学术辩论后，Handley-Cousins呼吁“对内战残疾进行更细微的解释，即这样一种解释。。。让士兵和退伍军人感到矛盾的情绪”（93）。她的主张可能过于笼统地描绘了最近的奖学金，但她的要点仍然很明确。张伯伦的伤口使他休养不休，长期患病，很可能加剧了他的婚姻困难和工作狂。尽管如此，他“努力工作以树立公众人物”，与“健全男子气概的标准”保持一致（78，92）。要求政府援助的退伍军人当然理解了这些文化戒律的力量，因为“成年和残疾的观念”被用来减少养老金的发放（97）。“那些没有遵守理想的成年期望的人或那些生活在退休金局对残疾的定义之外的疾病的人，” Handley-Cousins争辩说...