They say not to judge a book by its cover or by the images contained within it. I have to say, however, I spent a lot of time thinking about these. The cover art was adapted from a print by Vicente do Rego Monteiro. It comes from his Quelques Visages de Paris (1925), a book which sought to provide a native Brazilian vision of the City of Lights. There are also wonderful photos of Claude Lévi-Strauss among colleagues at the Brazilian National Museum, Braudel in the interior of São Paulo state with Dina Lévi-Strauss, Bastide in Africa, and many others that give the reader a sense of the places and people that the book examines.In terms of the writing itself, I would suggest to those browsing the book to start with the conclusion. There, they will encounter a compact discussion of the importance and resilience of Franco-Brazilian exchange, whether in Mário de Andrade’s literary creation or Fernando Henrique Cardoso’s exile and the beginnings of dependency theory. Brazilian Modernism and Marxism are strands that are present throughout the book; here, I think, they really come out in their full glory. One sees, for example, Andrade’s character Macunaíma with “Gargantua, his Gallic brother, drinking wine and aguardiente, calling rum cachaça, cassoulet feijoada, screaming, laughing, [and] inveighing in Tupi terms.”I know that for a lot of readers, the early 20th century is a distant time. Readers who are more interested in the recent history of the 1960s and 1970s will be curious to read and learn more about the 1930s and 1940s, an earlier period in which the social sciences and the international system in which they are embedded had yet to coalesce. This is indeed one of the major contributions of the book.In the humanities and the social sciences, we are truly at a crossroads. For very good reasons, scholars—young scholars in particular—are calling for an overhaul of curricula. We need to rethink the Western canon and provide space to new voices outside of Europe and North America. In my view, this requires a two-fold approach. On the one hand, we need to multiply our knowledge of alternative ways of thinking and being in the past and in other parts of the world. On the other, we need to break through the mold of area studies to better see connections—connections that destabilize assumptions about the vectors of knowledge and culture. I tried to do both in the Terms of Exchange.The book highlights the role of Brazilians both in understanding the empirical reality of Brazil but also in the development of theory. Brazilian thinkers, as I show, were crucial partners in the construction of two of the twentieth century’s most significant intellectual paradigms: structuralism and the longue durée. As many of us continue to resurface thinkers from what is often considered the “Global South,” I think we need to work hard to listen to the ways in which these intellectuals thought beyond themselves— to highlight not just their local knowledge but also their contributions to global intellectual life that extended beyond their geographic or cultural or ethnic specificity. What I hope to convince readers of is that this is not a polemical exercise but one based on historical reality and archival research.