Translations of Bourdieu, Merleau-Ponty and Foucault are cited, the latter worryingly in the present tense, but no writings of French (or, indeed, non anglo-american geographers) are mentioned. Perhaps this is not surprising. Most younger geographers in Britain and the USA do not read other languages; the great majority of their students are effectively monolingual; and most university libraries have been forced by financial cuts to cancel all geographical journals that are seen as non-essential, namely are not in the English/American language. Most geographical books in French, German etc. will have been put into store or sold off. Mercifully these policies have been resisted – for the time being at least – in my own institution, University College London. Social Geographies, is an undergraduate textbook, produced by a major anglo-american publishing house, so perhaps this explains the characteristics of the published product.

The book is challenging read and is full of ideas for students to reflect upon and debate. Each chapter has numbered sections, summary blocks, boxed items, a few maps, excellent bibliographies, and a set of exercises to work on and essay titles to develop. There are some photographs, for example of a man having tattoos inscribed on his body. A few more photos and maps would have helped diversify blocks of unbroken text. The book concludes with a very sensible section on how a student may prepare to research and write a project or dissertation (typically 10,000 words at undergraduate level). A sample of terms from the glossary gives a flavour of the text as a whole: for example, commodification, corporeality, cyberspace, hybridity, individualisation, ontological security, performativity, positionality, revanchist city, sexuality, etc. Indeed, the latter issue has figured largely in Professor Valentine’s publications (many of which are listed on pp. 385-86) and run from the geography of women’s fear, lesbian perceptions, the geographies of childhood and of food, consuming pleasures, and identities. Mapping Desire (1995), with David Bell, was a path-breaking text on geographies of sexualities. The subtitle to the present book appears to me to be treated unevenly through the textbook, with ‘society’ figuring more emphatically in early chapters and ‘space’ emerging rather more noticeably in later ones.

After a brief introduction to the book and to notions of space and society, eight chapters follow. The first one and the longest (47 pages) explores the body and bodies in geographical space. This is innovative, challenging and surprising to readers who are older than Gill Valentine. It will appeal to many undergraduates in geography and in the social sciences more generally. The home (40 pages), community (35 pages), institutions (26 pages), and the street (33 pages) follow, each discussed in a lively, student-friendly way, with numerous ideas and questions being raised rather than predigested descriptions being offered. The final three chapters consider the city (43 pages), and the nation (37 pages) but not any specific nation. The content is far from what many may expect, with ‘the city’ embracing the flaneur, landscapes of consumption, selling the city, nature in the city, and virtual cities. ‘The rural’ examines the countryside as a social construct and then explores ‘other rurals’, notably how meanings of the country are negotiated and contested by the rural poor, children, lesbians and gay men, ethnic minorities, and New Age Travellers. Rural space is investigated as a utopian environment, as people’s playground, as a space of production, and how ‘nature’ is under threat from a numerous socio-economic pressures.

Social Geographies is emphatically a teaching book, presenting the good ideas and assembled readings of an enthusiastic and convincing teacher who has been remarkably productive in the last few years. To some extent it is a ‘scissors and paste’ text, with some sections being derived from specific articles or chapters which are sometimes over-referenced. To quote a single source three times in one short paragraph (for example, on page 284) might have been avoided with more interventionist copy-editing. There are many other instances of this kind, especially in the rural chapter. Spelling errors are few (usually relating to names) and the chapter bibliographies, as well as the final summative bibliography, are very fine and up-to-date. They do, of course, relate only to anglo-american publications.

To conclude: I enjoyed this book and I believe that it will sell well on both sides of the Atlantic. It will challenge and excite undergraduates (which is no mean feat) and will be much appreciated by younger teachers of social geography. With its thread of sexuality throughout, it will give heart to gay and lesbian students and teachers, whose existence had been ignored in social geography until the 1990s. Social Geographies may irritate some older geographers, who will regret the lack of reference to classic literature and what they will see as an over emphasis on unconventional approaches. This is, for example, the first geographical text where I have read of sodomy, oral sex and sadomasochism. But what may be perceived as unconventional now, may become conventional in a few years time! This book undoubtedly will challenge many colleagues in France, expecting more emphasis on space and less on society, and regretting the complete omission of reference to recent francophone work. Nonetheless, I do recommend Social Geographies to all who relish a challenge and are prepared to be stimulated, and perhaps to be shocked. To read this book is certainly to walk on the wild side.—

Hugh CLOUT