Nancy Rose Hunt’s newest work, A Nervous State: Violence, Remedies, and Reverie in Colonial Congo, forgoes conventional the narratives of colonial brutality and indigenous trauma prevalent in other histories of the Congo. Though Hunt still acknowledges the vast state-sponsored violence committed under the regime of King Leopold II and the Belgian colonial state, she chooses instead to focus her study on the diverse ripples resulting from the colonial legacies that surfaced in the period following colonization. In examining anxiety and healing, among other themes, Hunt is able to synthesize new perspectives from underutilized sources, thereby generating multifaceted narratives beyond those of indigenous powerlessness. In particular, Hunt crystalizes the idea that indigenous activities were significant enough to generate colonial insecurities, ultimately creating the “nervous state.”

In Chapter One, Hunt articulates the standard literary narratives of Edmund Morel and Joseph Conrad’s works—which were some of the first accounts of the abuses in the Congo Free State—in tandem with more inventive approaches. These new methods include employing visual and auditory evidence, such as photographs (including the one featured on the book’s cover) and what she refers to as “the field of sound” (for example, in the documentation of gunshots, screams, panicked conversation, laughing, etc.). In this way, Hunt is able to present a uniquely sensory experience for readers. Here, she also supplements more popular sources with indigenous theatre that emerged from missions in the 1950s, as well as with essays which speak to indigenous memory.

Chapter Two recounts the story of an important character in this work, Maria N’Koi, whom Hunt uses to exemplify colonial anxieties relating to control and the “nervous state,” particularly where the colonial state sought indigenous submission during the World Wars. N’Koi was a well-known indigenous healer who championed popular movements to reject colonial labor initiatives and taxes, much to the dismay of the colonial administration. Eventually, N’Koi became such a problem that she was exiled by colonial authorities for openly advocating violent revolt. Though she reappeared some years later, competing accounts of her role in the Congo have emerged, recognizing either her revolutionary activities or her healing efforts. For Hunt, such a dynamic symbolizes the tension in historical memory that nervousness about acknowledging colonial violence, even in the modern era, can produce.

Chapter Three continues the analysis of colonial insecurity by considering contact points between colonial administrators and indigenous populations. For example, Hunt examines numerous reports on social practices such as dance, medicine, and religious rituals which reflect the general anxieties of Belgian officials. Chapters Three, Four, and Five all build upon the heavy medical themes that reoccur throughout A Nervous State by fleshing out questions around the nexus of colonial power, labor, and demography. Census and other forms of population reporting led to fears about insufficient population growth and infertility, which emerged in tandem with apprehensions about seemingly high rates of venereal disease and other ailments. Missionary efforts arose to promote population growth and health maintenance. These efforts coincided with a parallel development of indigenous healing practices to fortify bodies against diseases such as Yebola (a disease which targets the nervous system). Healing ceremonies involved song, dance, ritualistic washings, and other traditional spiritual practices, which functioned not only as healing mechanisms, but also expunged colonial influence in village affairs. Such cultural pronouncements are entry points into what Hunt identifies as a form of indigenous resistance. Hunt contends that many scholars have conflated indigenous healing in the Congo within the framework of Western medical practice. Instead, she postulates that indigenous healing represented an entire, intertwined milieu of cultural and political meaning that, in the colonial era, represented forms of violent insurgency and exacerbated the colonial anxieties of the nervous state.

In her sixth and final chapter, Hunt focuses more directly on records of Congolese nightlife, literature, cinema, and other media and social enunciations. Here, Hunt tackles the Congolese social sphere in motion, exploring song, dance, and other social developments not as stagnant historical objects to be analyzed, but rather as actual bustling and dynamic movements. Such a depiction harkens back to her purpose in earlier chapters to produce a sensory experience for readers. Ultimately, this chapter ties together the masterful implementation of interdisciplinary methods throughout the work which complement Hunt’s use of unorthodox source material.

There is already a wealth of work exploring colonial Congo’s formation as a biopolitical state, including Hunt’s own previous work A Colonial Lexicon of Birth Ritual, Medicalization, and Mobility in the Congo. As a whole, however, A Nervous State contextualizes the intersections of the nervous state and the biopolitical state—which appear to have merged altogether by the Cold War era—as they interweave throughout the Congolese colonial narrative. For Hunt, the biopolitical state’s obsession with security, policing, and control manifests itself in the colonial Congo with the administrative focus on population growth and public health. What Hunt uniquely adds to the historiography of the Congolese biopolitical state is to articulate how the goals of the colonial administration were provoked by the nervous state. That is, anxiety about the power of colonial authority called into question by the insurrection of indigenous healing effectively produces the very desire for policing and control that epitomizes the biopolitical state.

A Nervous State will prove useful across a variety of disciplines for diverse audiences. Students and junior scholars will find Hunt’s work to be a valuable guideline for employing interdisciplinary methods and connecting assorted source materials. Those interested in African or colonial histories will find A Nervous State ripe with detailed information on indigenous practices and colonial administrative concerns about achieving the goals of empire. In this way, the work appeals both to macro- and micro-historical approaches. Admittedly, the novelty of some of Hunt’s methods may strike the reader as odd. Utilizing such a range of sensory information as historical method is quite unprecedented, particularly when applied to the dynamic of cultural and political violence, physical as well as metaphysical. Her interpretations could appear dense to some audiences, especially to those not well-versed in the various theoretical frameworks she engages. However, in some ways, the slight opaqueness of certain passages is precisely the point of Hunt’s research. She does not always aim to illustrate the clarity of a tangible historical idea, but instead, Hunt hopes to create historical impressions which engage all the sensory data in her source material. In this way, Hunt’s A Nervous State represents a pioneering work in African history, which will surely become a staple in advancing new frontiers for other narratives in the continent’s history.