The Līḷācaritra, the first literary text in Marathi, is a prose biography of Cakradhar compiled by his followers in the last quarter of the thirteenth century. The close attention to place in the Līḷācaritra is key to understanding not only this text from long ago and far away but also the attachment to particular places in other highly mobile worlds, including our own. The Līḷācaritra follows Cakradhar's ascetic peregrinations, as well as journeys made by the many people who came to see him or attempted to return to his presence (his sannidhān). The text's attention to the details of Cakradhar's daily life, including the places he visited, is motivated by bhakti (devotional love). In order to soothe the pain they felt at his absence, the community of Cakradhar's followers practiced remembrance of the things he had said and done, and made pilgrimages to the places where he had stayed.

What has been happening to “Economic Democracy” in Japan within the past twenty years since the end of World War II? Has die emphasis upon rapid economic growth countered the measures intended by the Allied Occupation to ensure economic democracy?

The democratic economy the Supreme Command of the Allied Powers envisioned for Japan in the years 1946-1948 was to be free of highly concentrated economic power, either in the hands of Zaibatsu or of giant corporations, was to have an Anti-Monopoly Act to promote “the democratic and wholesome development of the national economy as well as to assure the interest of the general consumer,” and was to have a “just and equal” tax law to “democratize the Japanese economy.” A thorough-going land reform and legal bona fide trade union movement also was declared to be a necessary part of economic democracy. It was, in the words of the Zaibatsu Mission, to build “a strong middle class which can influence the course of policy.”

The hoopla, the sparkling “new clothes” for the host city, the chest-thumping sense of nationalism that pervades the event: there is much about Shanghai in 2010 that is reminiscent of Beijing in 2008.

Three broad concerns inspired Strange Parallels. First, like many students of Southeast Asia, I was long troubled by the fragmented, kaleidoscopic nature of much precolonial historiography. Curiosity to see if I could detect long term, overarching patterns provided my initial spur.