For a few reasons, I find that the "classical" and ancient worlds are a more interesting and stimulating field of research and study than more modern historical topics. Because of the relative lack of sources and direct evidence, there is more scope for imagination, debate and ambiguity.
The Classical World, by Robin Lane Fox, is a vibrant, absorbing and at times passionate look at Greece and Rome. Faced with such a vast and complicated landscape, the author wisely operates within certain parameters, using 5th and 4th century Athens and the Roman Emperor Hadrian as benchmarks and reference points of a sort. The changes and upheavals through the centuries are examined through the concepts of freedom, justice and luxury, and how they were interpreted and regulated.
The most refreshing thing about this book is that the author is not afraid of making it clear where his cultural and political sympathies lie, especially where the zenith of classical Greece is concerned. In addition, he succeeds in knitting together the various strands and elements of the subject in a way which is seamless, coherent and plausible. The fragments, when assembled, become real, rather than distant, diffuse and unfathomable.
Lane Fox explores the origins of "classical" Greece, referring back to the time of Homer, and detailing how technological, military, economic and cultural factors brought about social and political changes, by altering the balance of power between the classes. The transition to Athenian democracy is also tackled, and how the democratic ethos benefited the city in its conflicts with its neighbours and antagonists. There is also a compelling look at the spread of Greek influence in both the East and the West.
Of course, no account of classical times, in their broadest sense, would be complete without a look at the Macedonians, Alexander the Great and the "successors". Again, this section of the book blends effectively into the big picture, analysing how the fallout from Alexander's exploits affected the wider world.
The secret to this book's allure to me was the blend of enthusiasm, knowledge and authority of the author. His humane, enlightened and principled approach shines through. The classical and ancient worlds are enchanting for the casual observer, but that is nothing compared to how they look and feel when studied and portrayed by a figure possessed of insight and understanding, not to mention a graceful and potent way with words.
The recurring passages about social structures I found pertinent on more than one level. They show how things were, and how flaws still remain in our time. Our generations have less "excuse". One is also reminded about the pivotal nature and role of the ownership of land...
Often, the phases of history covered by this publication can seem abstract; unreal and threadbare. Lane Fox manages to make them appear as vivid and relevant as the Napoleonic Wars and the Reformation. It seems to me that this was achieved by a combination of admirable focus and plausible interpretation of matters which are subject to endless scholarly dispute.
There is some highly intriguing material about the periods when Macedon, Rome and Carthage overlapped. The odd myth or popular misconception is debunked or dispelled along the way, too. The author also entertainingly points out the differences between the cultural lives and political ethos which prevailed in the various city-states and regions.
The chapters on the Roman Republic, and what came in its wake, are excellent in their level of detail and their erudition. Roman times, in comparison with the earlier Greek world, arguably contained less to be idealistic or enthused about, but they are hugely instructive for students of history and human nature. Rome may have been more "exciting", in a visceral sense, but Athens commands more fondness and admiration.
Throughout The Classical World there is considerable focus on the artistic and cultural consequences and accompaniments of major events, and how the Greeks and Romans saw themselves, as reflected and depicted in art, ceremony, architecture and ritual. Of course, these forms constitute much of the tangible and retrievable evidence by which we appraise and interpret those years.
In summary, this work is hugely enjoyable, imaginative and heartfelt. A stimulating and illuminating read.
Showing posts with label reading. Show all posts
Showing posts with label reading. Show all posts
Wednesday, 29 July 2015
Wednesday, 8 July 2015
Vanished Kingdoms - The History of Half-Forgotten Europe - Norman Davies
In the past three or four years, I have had the good fortune to read some wonderfully informative and entertaining books about history, predominantly covering the history of Europe. "Vanished Kingdoms - The History of Half-Forgotten Europe" by Norman Davies is a worthy addition to that list. In essence, the author selected a number of defunct realms and kingdoms, some of which, directly or indirectly, either had a sizeable influence on the future course of events, or represented a staging post, however obscure, on the path to what we have today. Others are just interesting for their own sakes. Each state is allocated its own separate chapter.
At first. some of the choices can seem a little off the beaten track, but they all are compelling and thought-provoking in their own way. Medieval (and early Modern) Europe can be a daunting tapestry, but this book helps to fill in a few gaps, and create perspective and an enhanced understanding. The "bite size" format is also an asset. "Vanished Kingdoms" doesn't just give us a portrait of a particular region or political entity, but also broadens and enriches our view of whole epochs. Times of transition, turbulence and change.
"Burgundia" was perhaps my favourite of all the articles, as it helps to clarify the post-Charlemagne carve-up, and how the beginnings of modern France, Germany and Switzerland took shape, as secessions, horse-trading and expansionism did their work . This section for me is the heart of the book, as it encompasses the early medieval period, through to the growth of the Holy Roman Empire, and touches on papal schisms and the Hundred Years War. Also Burgundia played an oft-forgotten part in the European Renaissance, and the rise of the Habsburg family, and it has a certain enigmatic richness and dynamism about it.
The "Aragon" section incorporates the struggles against the Moors (Reconquista) and the eventual "unification" of the Iberian peninsula, as well as touching on several other strands of Mediterranean and broader European history. Many of the stories told in the different chapters overlap, but the sagas are detailed in such an interesting and imaginative way that they never feel repetitive.
I was surprised at how brief the chapter on "Byzantion" was, but that is one of the delights of this book. It does not conform to any set pattern, and is full of twists and pleasant surprises. One of my tips for enjoying a book such as this is to avoid putting pressure on oneself to photographically memorise dates, names and chronologies. Just absorb the erudition and the words, and the general thread will make sense in the end. The mix is further leavened by the writer's occasionally whimsical and laconic style.
I was surprised at how brief the chapter on "Byzantion" was, but that is one of the delights of this book. It does not conform to any set pattern, and is full of twists and pleasant surprises. One of my tips for enjoying a book such as this is to avoid putting pressure on oneself to photographically memorise dates, names and chronologies. Just absorb the erudition and the words, and the general thread will make sense in the end. The mix is further leavened by the writer's occasionally whimsical and laconic style.
Davies is careful to illustrate how the remnants of the past are preserved and interpreted today. Also, he examines the often divisive and contentious legacies of these defuct states, and the passions and emotions which many of them continue to arouse at a local and international level.
In summary, "Vanished Kingdoms" is a charming, absorbing and entertaining look at some political entities and territories which have disappeared from the map over the centuries, and in its own way traces much of the story of Europe from around the time of the collapse of the Roman Empire through to the present day. One of those works which exudes the author's enthusiasm for his subject, and the diligence and scope of his knowledge and research.
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Friday, 20 March 2015
Enzo Ferrari, A Life - Richard Williams - book review
With the dawn of the new Formula 1 season, I have been prompted to revisit some of the racing books gathering dust on my shelves. One of those was Richard Williams' biography of Enzo Ferrari, first published in 2001.
This is a biography of Ferrari the man, so those searching for exhaustive lists of chassis numbers, or intricate technical analysis, should perhaps look elsewhere. There is some good scene-setting stuff, exploring Ferrari's early life and his background. Indeed, these stimulating passages left me yearning for more information concerning those formative years. The chapters dealing with Enzo's own racing exploits are equally evocative, for example the 1919 Targa Florio.
With limited space, it is understandable that this book does not go into great detail about how Ferrari reacted to, and fitted into, the febrile social and political climate which prevailed in Italy when he was launching his career in motor sport and business. The author does not ignore the issue, though, and one is left with an impression of the realities and choices faced by many prominent Italians at that time.
It is striking how convoluted, constantly shifting, and sometimes strained, Enzo Ferrari's relationship with Alfa Romeo was, much more so than is popularly imagined. I was gratified to find that this stage of his life is covered in some depth, as are the "heroic" and "golden" ages of motor racing, between the world wars. These sections are gripping, and one is left with a vivid impression of a perilous but momentous era. From the emergence of the likes of Nuvolari, Varzi and Moll, and Ferrari's relationship with these figures, to the sea-change brought about by the advent of the Auto Union and Mercedes teams. The legendary races such as the Mille Miglia and the Targa Florio are also afforded due attention.
At various junctures in this biography we are informed how some of the mythology and legend which surrounds (or surrounded?) Ferrari accumulated. It is worth stressing, however, that Williams does not go overboard on this dimension of the tale. Indeed, some myths and/or tall stories are dispelled or debunked. It is tempting to view every episode surrounding Ferrari in "conspiratorial" terms. Thankfully, a more measured and dispassionate approach is adopted here.
The parts of the book which address the tumultuous 1950s are also quite absorbing. The tragedies, the controversies, the playing off of drivers against each other, the brief Ferrari tenure of Juan Manuel Fangio and the turbulent 1958 season all feature heavily. Throughout there are also fascinating and often revealing anecdotes about Ferrari's dealings with drivers, celebrities, notables and the families of drivers. I feel that the portrayal of the man is balanced, showing his flaws but also highlighting his human qualities, which are often overlooked or obscured by the aforementioned mythology.
The outbursts of political trouble in the racing team are naturally detailed, including the problems with Italian drivers, the strains which led to the departure of John Surtees, and the Niki Lauda epoch. A recurring theme in the later chapters is the incidence of infighting, and the extent to which this was compounded by Ferrari's remoteness and consequent tendency to delegate. The complex nature of his relations with several drivers, including Surtees and Lauda, is examined realistically and sensibly. Matters were not always black and white, despite what some would like us to believe. The accounts of the negotiations with Stirling Moss and Jackie Stewart leave me with a sensation of "what might have been".
Of course, Ferrari's personal and family life are documented here, as is the growth of the road car side of the company. We also learn about the abortive negotiations with Ford in the 1960s, and the subsequent agreement with Fiat.
Overall, this is a lively and well written book.
This is a biography of Ferrari the man, so those searching for exhaustive lists of chassis numbers, or intricate technical analysis, should perhaps look elsewhere. There is some good scene-setting stuff, exploring Ferrari's early life and his background. Indeed, these stimulating passages left me yearning for more information concerning those formative years. The chapters dealing with Enzo's own racing exploits are equally evocative, for example the 1919 Targa Florio.
With limited space, it is understandable that this book does not go into great detail about how Ferrari reacted to, and fitted into, the febrile social and political climate which prevailed in Italy when he was launching his career in motor sport and business. The author does not ignore the issue, though, and one is left with an impression of the realities and choices faced by many prominent Italians at that time.
It is striking how convoluted, constantly shifting, and sometimes strained, Enzo Ferrari's relationship with Alfa Romeo was, much more so than is popularly imagined. I was gratified to find that this stage of his life is covered in some depth, as are the "heroic" and "golden" ages of motor racing, between the world wars. These sections are gripping, and one is left with a vivid impression of a perilous but momentous era. From the emergence of the likes of Nuvolari, Varzi and Moll, and Ferrari's relationship with these figures, to the sea-change brought about by the advent of the Auto Union and Mercedes teams. The legendary races such as the Mille Miglia and the Targa Florio are also afforded due attention.
At various junctures in this biography we are informed how some of the mythology and legend which surrounds (or surrounded?) Ferrari accumulated. It is worth stressing, however, that Williams does not go overboard on this dimension of the tale. Indeed, some myths and/or tall stories are dispelled or debunked. It is tempting to view every episode surrounding Ferrari in "conspiratorial" terms. Thankfully, a more measured and dispassionate approach is adopted here.
The parts of the book which address the tumultuous 1950s are also quite absorbing. The tragedies, the controversies, the playing off of drivers against each other, the brief Ferrari tenure of Juan Manuel Fangio and the turbulent 1958 season all feature heavily. Throughout there are also fascinating and often revealing anecdotes about Ferrari's dealings with drivers, celebrities, notables and the families of drivers. I feel that the portrayal of the man is balanced, showing his flaws but also highlighting his human qualities, which are often overlooked or obscured by the aforementioned mythology.
The outbursts of political trouble in the racing team are naturally detailed, including the problems with Italian drivers, the strains which led to the departure of John Surtees, and the Niki Lauda epoch. A recurring theme in the later chapters is the incidence of infighting, and the extent to which this was compounded by Ferrari's remoteness and consequent tendency to delegate. The complex nature of his relations with several drivers, including Surtees and Lauda, is examined realistically and sensibly. Matters were not always black and white, despite what some would like us to believe. The accounts of the negotiations with Stirling Moss and Jackie Stewart leave me with a sensation of "what might have been".
Of course, Ferrari's personal and family life are documented here, as is the growth of the road car side of the company. We also learn about the abortive negotiations with Ford in the 1960s, and the subsequent agreement with Fiat.
Overall, this is a lively and well written book.
Tuesday, 29 July 2014
The Time Machine - H G Wells
Probably the second most famous work written by HG Wells, after "The War Of The Worlds", "The Time Machine", originally published in 1895, is a novella which tells the story of an inventor type who devises a contraption to enable him to travel through time. Once he has travelled about 800,000 years into the future, he finds himself in a world seemingly idyllic and perfect, but things are not what they seem.
The way I interpret it, the "Time Traveller" character is articulating some of Wells' own beliefs, concerns and opinions. It was a good idea to have the introductory chapter (s), where the scientific principles supposedly underpinning and enabling time travel are debated and discussed. This gives the story a grounding of sorts, instead of the reader being asked to totally take for granted outlandish or fanciful ideas. I always like an author to take me with him in this manner.
In the initial descriptions of the Earth in 802,701 AD, I detect echoes of children's fairy stories, in the invoking of a kind of idyllic wonderland, albeit one with a few quirks and incongruities. At first glance, the Time Traveller thinks that he has landed in some utopian communistic, egalitarian paradise. He reflects on the implications of this apparent absence of fear and insecurity.
As he accepts that his initial diagnosis has been erroneous, the Time Traveller pieces together the grim reality of the dystopian vision before him. Humanity has diverged into two "species", due to social fragmentation and segregation, encouraged supposedly by the industrial and economic systems of earlier times. The insinuation is that this is all the logical and inevitable outcome of the way things were moving even in the late nineteenth century, suitable extrapolated. Of course, social injustice and the iniquities of capitalism were very much a favoured topic of writers and thinkers in Wells' time, and this was an imaginative means of getting his point across.
In this case, the "aristocracy", as represented by the ebullient but frivolous and shallow Eloi, had become decadent, and were being tormented by the brutalized Morlocks, the subterranean dwellers who had hitherto been industrial fodder. Was the author being prescient here, anticipating the conditions which gave rise to certain proletarian uprisings which were to happen in the twentieth century? Rather than grimly declaring "I told you so", Wells makes clear that such a society would not be worth living in, being characterized by fear, terror and unease.
The most resonant part of the equation for me was the notion of the death of the intellect, in exchange for comfort and security, with all its manifold, and insidious ramifications. One can argue whether or not the plot details are more plausible than "The War Of The Worlds", but I found "The Time Machine" more stimulating from a philosophical standpoint, as it contains starker warnings about what man's folly can create. The vision and imagination on display are also more lively and fertile to my eyes, and ironically the fruits are more relevant, even though most of the story is set far far into the future. Whether or not one totally concurs with some of the writer's premises, this is a work to jolt the complacency.
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Monday, 21 July 2014
The War Of The Worlds - H G Wells
Despite its legendary status I had never got around to reading H G Wells' novel "The War Of The Worlds". Until recently, that is. I found it a most stimulating read, even if it was not quite what I expected.
First published in 1897/98, it is divided into two "parts", Book One - The Coming of The Martians, and Book Two - The Earth Under the Martians, although in the actual reading I did not discern any great demarcation between the two sections.
The story is told largely through the eyes of the narrator, who is evidently some form of philosopher type, although part of the novel is given over to his own brother's experiences. This method, of relying primarily on one person's eye-witness accounts and recollections, gives the story a rawness and grimness which would have been absent had the tale been related from the perspective of the authorities, or "the establishment" in general.
The author's scientific inclinations and interests are evident throughout, and little touches here and there add to the aura of authenticity. Indeed, one gains the impression that much of the text is rooted in science-fact. This strengthens the impact and the sobering nature of the story.
"The War Of the Worlds" must have been quite shocking and frightening in its time. The "good news" angle is firmly eschewed, and we are left in little doubt that beings from other worlds might not be too friendly or accommodating, and might not be cute or cuddly humanoids either. Very little sugar-coating takes place. The fact that the initial actions occur in suburbia and what would now be termed "commuter country" adds to the shock element. This could happen anywhere, Wells appears to be hinting.
There is very little in the way of "softening up" at the start of this novel, and we are almost straight in to the descriptions of the traumatic events. This only deepens the starkness and disorientation. It also seems quite incongruous to modern sensibilities to be discussing an "alien" invasion which occurred over a century ago, even if it is fictional. The Martians would therefore have to be confronted without computers, aircraft and full mechanization, implements which we associate with most "science fiction" stories set on Earth. It is also curious to hear the chronicling of a disaster of this kind unfolding before the age of mass electronic communication, let alone social media!
People, myself included, tend to perceive "The War of The Worlds" in visual and cinematic terms, because of the various screen-based and pictorial renderings and interpretations of the story which have been composed. Reading the novel, the imagination has to be exercised and tapped into. Much more challenging...
The overriding impression which I derived from much of the book was of the helplessness and insignificance of individuals. This is captured with some acuity in the chapter (s) dealing with the narrator's journey from Leatherhead to Maybury. Tripods, thunderstorms, human corpses, empty houses, deserted towns, fear and chaos all make themselves felt.
As I read the more harrowing passages, a few random thoughts swirled around my mind. One was whether social cohesion, or lack of it, in any way contributed to Earth's inability to stem the initial Martian tide. The human race was, and is, fragmented along class, economic, nationalistic and tribal lines. Our adversaries may be more homogeneous in these respects. An absence of uniformity, which many of us perceive as an actual virtue in "normal" times, could be our undoing in a time of real crisis and peril. On the other hand, the remote possibility that a real alien invasion will happen is surely not an excuse in itself to undertake root-and-branch social change. If this change is to happen, it should be implemented for other, more earthly reasons, based on other more pressing and mundane factors.
In the descriptions of the upheaval and civil collapse in Southern England detailed here, one sees classic symptoms of the beginning of a "dystopian" society, a staple of much later science fiction and other literature. However, there is also the occasional mention of true anarchy, in the form of spontaneous convened committees and elements of self-government. I wish that Wells had developed these themes more thoroughly here. Whether or not Wells was seeking to be symbolic in the pointed depiction of church buildings being destroyed by Martian contraptions, I am not entirely sure.
In this time of adversity, did everyone revert to the hunting and gathering role, with the instinct of self-preservation very much to the fore? In reality, would the nature and gravity of the threat engender a solidarity of purpose, with tribal differences overlooked? In this instance, it would seem that government collapsed, leaving no authority to maintain a semblance of cohesion. Was it better therefore to wait for a new equilibrium to establish itself, and a remedy spontaneously arise? In the event such a remedy did appear, but not from a "man-made" source...
I was quite impressed by Wells' descriptions of the physiological and psychological differences between Earth dwellers and the "actual" Martians. The latter appeared to be devoid of the caprices and urges instilled by human digestive and reproductive systems. I would quite liked to have been one of Wells' Martians, at least for a day! On the other hand, don't our flaws, imperfections and idiosyncrasies make life worth living?. One could argue that the ultimate demise of the invaders was, in its way, down to the "curious" way in which humans have evolved. That was the acid test....
The novel contains some agonizing about mankind's position in the grand scheme of things, in the light of this invasion from further afield. No longer the masters, but just another animal in this brave new world? This not only tapped into the late 19th century vogue for anti-imperialism and Darwinian theory, but also perhaps a little ahead of its time in these speculations about how our perception of ourselves might shift if confronted by "intelligent" beings from elsewhere.
One of the characters, the artilleryman, at one point wonders which types of people would react in which ways to being ruled by the Martians. Some would doubtless acquiesce;anything for a quiet, comfortable and stable life. Some of these people would probably also assist the invaders in subjugating and enslaving the more recalcitrant elements of the remainder of the population. For those who resisted, would savoir faire, flexibility and adaptability be more useful than theorizing and preachiness?
I expected "The War of The Worlds" to contain a lot more moralizing and late Victorian angst. It is only touched on spasmodically, and then the tone is hardly abrasive or pious.
The fact that the Martian invaders were vanquished by a bacterial disease was intriguing. Maybe there is more to "progress" and sustainable civilisation than just technology. The endowments of Nature, and the vagaries of evolution and science, can sometimes prevail over brute force, and even the most insidious enemy is not infallible or invincible. It is quite a comforting thought, in a way.
I expected "The War of The Worlds" to contain a lot more moralizing and late Victorian angst. It is only touched on spasmodically, and then the tone is hardly abrasive or pious.
The fact that the Martian invaders were vanquished by a bacterial disease was intriguing. Maybe there is more to "progress" and sustainable civilisation than just technology. The endowments of Nature, and the vagaries of evolution and science, can sometimes prevail over brute force, and even the most insidious enemy is not infallible or invincible. It is quite a comforting thought, in a way.
Friday, 18 July 2014
Hymn To Old Age - Hermann Hesse
Few authors had quite the capacity and the vision to explore the human condition like Hermann Hesse. His novels have been an important part of my life in recent years, and his other writings are just as enthralling and inspiring. Some of these writings are compiled in "Hymn To Old Age"....
This collection comprises various "fragments" and vignettes, all loosely addressing and musing on the subjects of old age and ageing. They include extracts from letters and novels, as well as poems and essays. As they were written over several decades, they are endowed with a real vibrancy and diversity. This should not be regarded as Hesse's definitive "take" on the subject matter, and the pieces do not appear to be consciously arranged in any particular order, chronological or otherwise.
As ever, Hesse draws on nature, and natural phenomena such as weather and the changing seasons, as powerful and credible metaphor. There are many allusions too to the febrile and uncertain times in which the author lived. The outpourings published here are also largely informed by Hesse's fascination for Eastern philosophies, and concepts such as transcendence, one-ness and the essential harmony of the universe are much in evidence.
The writer's love of, and zest for, life permeates every word, as does his eagerness to savour every moment which that existence has to offer. This all ties in with the author's concerns with transience, and the urge to live for the moment, and to appreciate the beauty and vitality of those moments.
One of the themes which one detects through these writings is how in some respects the approach of the young and the old bears similarities, even if the reasons for this, and its precise symptoms, are subtly different. Do we lose something crucial in our "middle years"? Honesty, receptiveness to beauty and simplicity?
The degree to which we have control over when the beginning ends and the end begins is debatable, and it is arguably affected by the environment in which we operate, particularly in the industrial and technological age. Hesse, delicately though resolutely, implies that modern urban life, consumer society and "the rat race" are not altogether conducive to quiet contemplation and "mindfulness". Many of the tales and scenarios contained here are set in quintessentially "Hesse-ian" rural or idyllic surroundings, and the protagonists have often lived a vaguely ascetic life.
Despite everything, to me this book did not feel like a treatise on age and ageing, but more as a sampler, refresher or reiteration of Hesse's concerns, outlooks and favourite themes. The language and wordplay are largely gentle , but add up to something profound and thought-provoking, because of the coherence and humanity of the author's vision.
As mentioned above, the concepts of ageing, and the passage of time, dovetail vividly with Hesse's ideas and preoccupations, to do with spiritual exploration, and notions of "home" and constant renewal and rebirth. His attitudes to death, unconventional to many Western eyes both then and now, are but one manifestation of these beliefs.
In my own personal situation, I noted the assertion that the young and the old, both have a lack of real concern for the future, for separate reasons, thus permitting a more dominant role for the present and "the moment". Does this lead to a greater freedom and contentment? Those of us in the "no man's land" between the two poles, who constantly hanker after a return to the days of our youth, may have got things wrong. A more attainable and real sanctuary could await us when we reach old age.
Some of the extracts in "Hymn To Old Age" I had read before, in novels and so forth, and most are written or expressed in Hesse's trademark style. However, his writing never becomes repetitive or mundane, as it is so invigorating, enriching and life-affirming. The purity and optimism in his work never grows old.
Friday, 20 June 2014
The Unforgiven - The Story of Don Revie's Leeds United - Rob Bagchi & Paul Rogerson
There is frustratingly little in the way of books, that I have seen anyway, which comprehensively cover and analyse Don Revie's glorious but turbulent tenure at the helm of Leeds United. This one, originally published in 2002/03, does not completely plug the gap (if such a gap indeed exists) or satisfy the need, but it is nonetheless an entertaining and lively effort.
"Concise", "lean" and "digestible" would be some of the words appropriately employed to describe "The Unforgiven". Fans and students may feel that it barely scratches the surface on key issues such as tactics, Revie the man and the mystique surrounding the whole era. One is left wanting more, but I see this more as a virtue than a criticism of the product.
Where the book does score highly for me is in capturing the essence and the atmosphere of the times, both in football and in a wider social context. The "outsider" status and distinct character of the Revie team, and the hostility which it attracted from the outside, are well conveyed. One is also constantly reminded of the different parameters within which Leeds, and other clubs, were operating in the 1960s and the 1970s.
It is amusing but poignant to note the paltry (by today's standards) financial sums involved, and the crucial importance of week-to-week gate receipts in determining strategy, even in the "glory days". This leads us on to another thread which runs through the book, namely the complex relationship which the club "enjoyed" with the Leeds public, and the sense that this team was often under-appreciated and misunderstood, even on its own doorstep.
The text is colourfully written in places, and will not be to everyone's taste, but it does help to encapsulate the mud-spattered, rugged world which Revie's men inhabited, with limited squad sizes, horrendous fixture congestion (a familiar bugbear for Leeds in those days) and a very different media landscape. Quotes from the press of the time help to bring over an immediacy and a "real time" feel.
Creditably, Bagchi and Rogerson concentrate much of their effort on the pre-1969/70 period, when the groundwork was being undertaken. We therefore get a glimpse of how the legendary team of later years took shape and evolved, with the introduction of the young players and the occasional judicious signing. The passages dealing with activities in the transfer market are quite illuminating, and once again underline how times have changed. Some episodes not particularly familiar to the casual observer are given prominence, such as the club's early adventures in the European competitions.
By no means do the authors give the impression that all was sweetness and light, examining the less savoury aspects of the epoch, including the beginnings of hooliganism and the excesses of some teams on the pitch. The supposed professional insecurity of Don Revie is also a major theme. The flaws, contradictions and disappointments are part of what made the team so compelling, although some might yearn for a more profound search for the reasons behind Leeds' repeated role as "bridesmaids".
This book was originally written at a time when Leeds United were still threatening to build something vaguely comparable to those heady days of yore. The subsequent precipitate decline of "the dream" only adds to the allure of the era which ended in the summer of 1974. The club, and the city itself, have undergone additional change in the past decade, and some of the comparisons and perspective, in the edition which I have at least, may not be as pertinent as they were. However, this does not negate the overall charm of this piece of work, which is both breezy and highly readable.
Sunday, 15 June 2014
The Desert War - Alan Moorehead
This first-hand account of the North African campaign of World War 2, written by a British war correspondent, is deeply compelling.
It is different, and refreshing to read these accounts, from somebody who was actually there. There are some great anecdotes, evoking the atmosphere of the region, so different in some ways, yet also so similar in others, to the European war. The very fact that these writings were originally published whilst World War Two was still raging gives them a rawness and immediacy absent from so many books dealing with the period. This is not just a chronicle of military and political developments, but also a record of life as a war correspondence, a gruelling and perilous existence in itself.
The book does not just concentrate exclusively on the campaigns in Egypt, Libya and Tunisia, but covers the operations in East Africa (Abyssinia, Sudan and so forth). A large chunk of the text also deals with the fighting between the British Empire forces and the Italians, "pre-Rommel" as it were.
There is an intimate flavour to much of this work, as the effects on civilians and individual soldiers are examined, with much localised drama and colour, rather than just grand strategy. Of course, Moorehead was not always where the main action was, so this is as much the story of his war as it is an attempt to rigorously record the war in Africa as a whole.
Many eye-witness accounts of bombing raids or the aftermath of battles are here, bringing home the fears and hazards both for the individual serviceman and the journalist. Warfare in its many shades is exhibited, highlighting the diversity of terrain and tactical concerns.
As well as covering events on the fields of battle, the book includes lots of material from "behind the lines", from cities such as Cairo, where life seemed to remain relatively "normal", certainly when compared to the beleaguered cities of Europe.
There are some eye-opening passages hinting at how lavishly the Italian forces, and particularly the officers, lived at the outset of the war, certainly when compared to the spartan existence endured by many of their British counterparts. This may go against some present-day perceptions of what the state of play was. We are given detailed, and in some instances poignant, lists of the articles left behind by retreating troops.
Personality portraits of military commanders are another interesting feature, including those who have not always had a favourable press from historians, such as those who oversaw the early exchanges in North Africa. The deeper motivations behind strategy and tactics are also analysed. One is left with quite a positive impression of the effectiveness of the Allied forces in the early stages, although this was of course put into perspective by the arrival of the Germans...
Upon the advent of the Afrika Korps, I detected a darkening in the mood and tone of the book, with some lamenting of Allied inferiority in material and tactical terms. It is also interesting to see some examination of strategy in "real time", linking events in the Western Desert to Greece, Abyssinia and other areas. There are some intriguing tangents, with chapters on the home fronts in Britain and the USA, and also one concerning the political manoeuvrings in India.
The constant references to "we" and "our" may irritate some non-British readers, but we have to remember the circumstances under which these passages were composed, when Britain was under siege both at home and overseas. For this and other reasons, "The Desert War" is definitely a period piece, but a good one. I didn't think that any "bias", if it can be called that, interfered with the value of the book.
Friday, 6 June 2014
Alexander The Great - Robin Lane Fox - book review
Until comparatively recently, Alexander The Great was a bit of an enigma for me. Yes, from early childhood the name had been familiar to me, but this did not persuade me to conduct any great research into who he really was, and how he acquired his legendary status. Until recently, that is....
Robin Lane Fox's book is less a biography than a quest to strip away some of the layers of myth and distortion which have amassed over the centuries, as a consequence of the limited first-hand evidence, and the unreliability and questionable motives of some of the most prominent sources.
The period immediately before and after Alexander's accession to the throne is one of the more intriguing sections, with a cogent outlining of the political and social landscape which he grew up in, and the legacy bestowed by his father.
The author frankly points out the scarcity of information concerning Alexander's childhood, and eschewing idle speculation, draws together strands from what is known about the region in that period, to offer theories about how he might have developed. The tutelage by Aristotle is naturally looked at, but Lane Fox is careful not to over-play the influence which the great thinker might have exerted.
The role of superstition, religion and myth cannot be ignored in a book about Alexander The Great, or about ancient/classical times, but this telling does not become weighed down by such considerations. The importance of Homeric legend is clear, although it is mentioned less as the story proceeds.
Because of the often dubious nature of the historical "records", much of this tome is taken up in weighing up the bewildering number of interpretations placed on pivotal episodes in Alexander's life. The author's knowledge and erudition come into play, as does an ability to see the "big picture" and to place contentious events into a wider context. These arguments are put forward clearly and plausibly, when one considers the complexity of the subject matter.
I think there is a tendency to portray Alexander as some kind of "superman", but Lane Fox rationalises things by offering earthly explanations for his qualities and prowess, citing factors such as his inheritance, his upbringing, his environment and his intellectual and military nurturing, as well as his innate strengths and foibles. It could be argued that he built on very solid foundations, and reaped the benefits of other trends which had little to do with him directly. Another strength of this book is that it does not attribute every change or upheaval to the foresight, will or "genius" of Alexander. It acknowledges that there was a rich and formidable cast of characters, many of whom were significant players in the drama which unfolded...
The passages which deal with Alexander's pursuit of diplomacy and geopolitical planning are excellent, and I found them more engaging than any descriptions of battlefield derring-do. Not everything was accomplished via "heroic" deeds. Much was relatively mundane, informed with a deal of pragmatism or common sense. To understand these parts of the story, it is necessary to see through the morass of propaganda issued by apologists and detractors. This is all part of the fun, though.
The book comes into its own for me when it deals with the period after Alexander had achieved his initial objectives, by way of "revenge" against the Persians. He had to adjust his tactics, vision and aims, and even he was occasionally afflicted by indecision. Significantly, Lane Fox does not neglect what was still happening in Macedonia, Greece and the Aegean generally, and its ramifications for the campaign much further east.
One is also struck by the varied and unpredictable nature of the threats which Alexander and his army faced as they ventured further into the unknown. He had to juggle and marshal his resources adroitly, and also make tough decisions about priorities. He did not always arrive at the correct balance, and the localised failures are not concealed.
The whole picture knits and blends together well. Many accounts concentrate excessively on Alexander's charisma at the expense of a broad and accurate picture of the state of play in his newly conquered domains. This version illustrates the magnitude and intricacy of the achievement, and the effort required to sustain and consolidate it.
In the end, the thing which makes this story real, and Alexander seem "human", is the sense of fallibility which intruded towards the end, even though his ambitions remained momentous. The mutinies, and the Makran desert episode, are looked at in depth.
In taking all this in, it is easy to forget the fact that Alexander was approaching what was thought, in Western eyes at least, to be the "edge of the world". The author points out what had been going on foe centuries beyond these frontiers, and this helps in adding perspective. It also tells us what Alexander and his colleagues missed out on, and helps us to conjecture how history might have worked out differently if the army had not turned back.
Naturally, there is a fairly exhaustive probe into the conspiracy theories which surrounded Alexander's demise. As with so much else concerning the man, we will never know for sure....
The book concludes with a look at Alexander's legacy, largely in terms of his enduring impact, and that of Greek culture, on the lands which were subject to conquest. Their limitations are also accepted. If anything, these final chapters left me wanting more...
Naturally, there is a fairly exhaustive probe into the conspiracy theories which surrounded Alexander's demise. As with so much else concerning the man, we will never know for sure....
The book concludes with a look at Alexander's legacy, largely in terms of his enduring impact, and that of Greek culture, on the lands which were subject to conquest. Their limitations are also accepted. If anything, these final chapters left me wanting more...
This is a fine book, and it left me with a much enriched understanding of Alexander the man, and of a dramatic period in history.
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Saturday, 17 May 2014
Liddell Hart's History Of The Second World War
There are literally thousands of books available which provide an overview of the 1939-45 conflict, catering for many perspectives and tastes. Of those which major primarily on the purely military/strategic aspects, Basil Liddell Hart's "History Of The Second World War", first published in 1970, stands out, both for its level of detail and erudition and its absence of equivocation and bias.
Until recently, I had not read this book in its entirety for several years, and there is a greater quantity of discussion about grand strategy, and the "behind closed doors" elements, than I had recalled. Works of this depth travel comfortably beyond the wishy-washy generalisations seen elsewhere. Liddell Hart quotes extensively from diaries and official records, and from his own post-war interviews with some German commanders.
A lengthy pre-amble sets the scene. It is dispiriting, but worthwhile, to be reminded of the appeasement policies practised by Britain in the 1930s, and of the missed opportunities to stifle and confront Hitler's expansionist sorties, particularly those circa 1938.
In his accounts of the early campaigns of the war, the author emphasizes how comparatively fine the margins were between German success and their being repulsed by the Allies, in France in 1940 for example. He appears to adopt the line that the German victory in the West was not a foregone conclusion, dispelling a few common assumptions about that campaign, and highlighting, as he does elsewhere, how the impetus for the Wehrmacht's tactics emanated chiefly from certain of their field commanders, not from the high command itself.
As one of the early prophets, and advocates, of the new fast-moving armoured warfare, Liddell Hart is therefore ideally placed to judge how these ideas impacted on the course of events in the early stages of the conflict, and how those who failed to take heed of the new realities paid a heavy price for their blinkeredness. In expressing his exasperation at the failings of Allied strategy, he is not simply saying "I told you so", but does back up his assertions with reasoned analysis, whilst also allowing that the deficiencies sometimes resulted from political neglect and misjudgement, or economic factors.
Some of the arguments employed here about strategic and diplomatic matters are ones which appear to be unfashionable today, but I see that as a distinct strength! These viewpoints are arrived at by reasoning and knowledge, whereas I get the feeling that many 21st century commentaries on World War Two are bland, watered down or populist over-simplifications, designed not to tax people's pre-conceptions too much.
The relating of the feverish diplomatic activity both prior to and during the "Operation Torch" landings in North Africa in 1942 is a fine example of how detail and comprehensiveness can give a more representative overview than the "bullet-point" tactics used in many versions. My impression, rightly or wrongly is that the British Mediterranean strategy in the 1942-43 period is given a qualified thumbs-up, even if fault is found with its later implementation. The dreaded word "sideshow" is not to be found that frequently in these chapters!
Liddell Hart's views on the Eastern Front are fascinating, including his view that the "backwardness" of the USSR in those days helped to save it from total collapse and defeat in the first phases of the German invasion. To my mind, he does not adhere as much as some observers to the notion that the Russian front was the only "real front" in the war.
There is a balanced, humane and realistic assessment of the merits, or otherwise, of the various Allied strategic bombing initiatives. The blind alleys are highlighted, but equally the later innovations, breakthroughs and effects are acknowledged. The missed opportunities to end the war more swiftly on the Western Front are subjected to a lengthy dissection and lamentation.
The flaws and pitfalls in the "unconditional surrender" demands put forward by Allied leaders in both Europe and Asia are examined. Did this stipulation unnecessarily prolong the war, by bolstering both civilian and military morale, and defiance, amongst the surviving Axis powers?
On the subject of the atomic bomb, and the possible motivations for employing it, much emphasis is placed on the anxiety in Washington about forestalling increased Soviet influence in the Far East. The author persuasively argues that Japan was probably already finished before the bomb dropped on Hiroshima. Did the bomb merely hasten the inevitable surrender by a very short time?
It may seem to the casual observer that the closing chapters on the chronology of the war itself are a little truncated, but on reflection this is probably just symptomatic of how quickly Germany and Japan collapsed. Also, most of the fighting in the Pacific did not lend itself to the mobile and fluid warfare about which the author specialized.
Those looking for a comprehensive social and political history of the war should probably look elsewhere. The "humanitarian" aspects of the conflict are rarely touched on in detail here, although Liddell Hart refers at times to the moral dimension, and the wider struggle for civilization. If you want to read in-depth about those broader considerations, there are plenty of books which cater for those things handsomely....
Above all, what emerge to me are the author's clarity of thought, his disdain for inertia, and the power of his ideas. This is a lengthy work, but also one which can be devoured quite swiftly, such is its authoritativeness, and resultant capacity to maintain the interest.
Tuesday, 13 May 2014
Operation Mincemeat - Ben Macintyre
I have become a touch wary of stories about World War Two espionage and subterfuge, as grandiose and excessive claims are often made for the value or import of certain missions or initiatives. However, "Operation Mincemeat", instigated by British Naval Intelligence in 1943, to support the impending landings in Sicily, possesses elements which make it stand out from the crowd. Ben Macintyre's book on the subject therefore became essential reading.
In short, "Operation Mincemeat" was a deception scheme arranged by British intelligence, as a means of keeping the German High Command guessing about Allied intentions in the Mediterranean region, in the wake of the conquest of North Africa. To facilitate this, an ingenious and elaborate, if somewhat macabre, operation was mounted, whereby a human corpse was washed up on the Spanish coast, bearing various "fake" and "planted" letters and documents, in the hope that said items would find their way into German hands, and impact upon the Reich's military decisions in accordance with Allied wishes.
I had previously been aware of this episode, but the book fleshes out the matter considerably, and delivers a penetrating insight into several aspects of the war . The ambiguous and complicated Spanish role, the intricacies of espionage, the various chains of command, overlapping responsibilities and the sometimes petty rivalries and jealousies which constantly threatened to hinder projects of massive importance.
Approximately halfway through "Operation Mincemeat", my judgement was still reserved, as I had a feeling of dread about the conclusions which might be reached. There is a natural tendency amongst authors to make outlandish claims for the success or achievement of the enterprise which they are championing or seeking to bring to a wider audience. I am glad to say that in this case my fears proved to be groundless, as Macintyre is realistic, balanced and honest in his assessments of how much "Mincemeat" ultimately accomplished, acknowledging that other factors contributed to Allied success, and that this was just part of a larger overall deception programme.
This is emphatically NOT one of those ".....Who Fooled Hitler" jobs which have begun to populate the bookshelves and broadcast schedules in recent times. Macintyre's approach is much more nuanced and honest. He does not pretend that everything went swimmingly from beginning to end from the Allied viewpoint.
This is emphatically NOT one of those ".....Who Fooled Hitler" jobs which have begun to populate the bookshelves and broadcast schedules in recent times. Macintyre's approach is much more nuanced and honest. He does not pretend that everything went swimmingly from beginning to end from the Allied viewpoint.
The Axis commitment of troops to North Africa in late 1942, and the consequent number of prisoners taken by the Allies in Tunisia, had arguably left Sicily exposed just as much as any decision by the German High Command to divert resources to Greece and Sardinia later on. The author correctly observes that the "Mincemeat" information merely helped to solidify attitudes and prejudices already harboured by Hitler and some of his colleagues. At the absolute minimum, and on balance of evidence, the plan positively benefited the Allies in the Mediterranean, albeit temporarily, as the twin forces of the terrain of mainland Italy, and the astute defensive tactics deployed by their opponents, soon meant much frustration further north.
The writing style is not particularly "scholarly", and some may find the tone a little shallow and "populist" in places. I thought that the author tried a little too hard at times to make every character or key player conform to stereotypes or caricatures of loveable eccentricity on the British side or clownish venality elsewhere. Having said that, it is never less than entertaining and absorbing, and several intriguing sub-plots are kept bubbling.
It is interesting to note the implication that anti-Nazi elements in German intelligence may have knowingly and deliberately misrepresented the meaning and/or contents of the "Mincemeat" documents, in order to frustrate or deceive their superiors. To be honest, I was expecting to be told that Wilhelm Canaris played a more direct role in the affair, given some of his well-documented activities, but seemingly he did not.
If you are interested in espionage or history, or just like a jolly good read, this book is recommended. I breezed through it quickly - always a good sign!
Friday, 18 April 2014
1812 - Napoleon's Fatal March On Moscow - Adam Zamoyski
Zamoyski starts by setting the scene, particularly the respective paths to 1812 followed by Napoleon and Tsar Alexander I, following the peace of Tilsit. Disaffection with Napoleon was growing among his "allies", much goodwill having been forfeited by heavy-handedness and a misunderstanding of the feelings of others. The pretensions of Alexander are illustrated, in so many ways a man of his time, espousing progressive sentiments, but hamstrung by the perilous nature of his own position, and the constant need to take heed of opinions at home.
The author also provides a handy guide to how the Continental System began to unravel, and also makes clear how important the whole Polish question was in the equation, something which is often overlooked. Also included in these preliminary chapters is an analysis of the Grande Armee, its strengths and shortcomings, how it had been diluted by attrition and campaigning, and also afflicted by corruption and decadence.
The logistics of the invasion, when set out in their constituent parts, are staggering to contemplate in their intricacy and scale, when we consider that this was a pre-mechanization, pre-motorisation era. It would also seem that the stories about Napoleon's personal involvement in minute details are not exaggerated. It is also sobering to think that these daunting logistics to a large degree envisaged a short war.....
The great thing about books like this is that they tell the real story, without resorting to the generalisations and clichés prevalent in other media formats. Here, for example, we learn that the much-vaunted Russian strategy was conditioned by a multiplicity of factors, and that it was not as calculating and pre-ordained as is sometimes made out, but evolved due to the pressure of events.
The elements of this book which I found most enlightening were those which addressed the infighting and tensions within Russian society and its "establishment", and how they affected the course of the campaign. Of the generals, Barclay de Tolly appeared to be largely vindicated in his approach, despite the vitriol aimed at him by many. Even after being "sacrificed", he continued to make astute observations.
The portrayal of Kutuzov here is also intriguing. For all his "inspirational" and galvanizing qualities, and his symbolic value, he seems to have been an equivocal influence on matters. The course of the conflict appeared to unfold despite rather than because of his conscious decisions. Indeed, some of the most favourable developments, from a Russian standpoint, occurred because they suppressed the urge to do what their instincts told them to.
Also, we get a look at the truth behind the level of patriotic and peasant engagement in the struggle, and the ambiguity which existed in the relationship of the masses with their leader. Even well into the long French retreat, opinion at all levels of Russian society was very volatile, and could have come down in opposition to Tsar Alexander.
What emerged to me was the fragility of the French enterprise, with a lack of central purpose and clear objectives, betrayed by Napoleon's stress on diplomacy and symbolic shows of power and unity.
It is probably simplistic to say that the Emperor's powers were on the wane, and some of his misfortunes he brought on himself by his flawed behaviour in the aftermath of Tilsit. The fall-out from this was reflected in the agonizing which afflicted him once on Russian soil. Political anxieties assailed him, and ironically the erratic and contradictory signals emanating from St. Petersburg may have harmed France more than they did the Russians, by thoroughly confusing and misleading Napoleon.
It is notable that most of the soldiers in his army still retained implicit faith in Napoleon, even during the most terrible travails. This was most likely due to a combination of blind faith, Bonaparte's remarkable track-record and his hypnotic allure. He was still capable of rising to the heights on occasion, as with the crossing of bridges on the return journey from Moscow, and his political antennae still functioned, if more fitfully than before. Another facet of the tale which stood out for me was how some of Napoleon's generals, Ney for example, retained their professionalism and focus amidst the chaos and misery.
The full horror and relentlessness of the Battle of Borodino is amply conveyed too. Reading those passages, one can fully appreciate why historians regard it as one of the most intensely brutal and horrific days of fighting ever seen. The full desperate ebb and flow of the battle comes across, as does the heart-chilling aftermath.
The full horror and relentlessness of the Battle of Borodino is amply conveyed too. Reading those passages, one can fully appreciate why historians regard it as one of the most intensely brutal and horrific days of fighting ever seen. The full desperate ebb and flow of the battle comes across, as does the heart-chilling aftermath.
Needless to say, a sizeable portion of this book concentrates on the horrors and hardships suffered by both soldiers and civilians. Indeed, conditions during the initial invasion in the summer of 1812 sound terrible enough, as is testified by the figures of attrition. The retreat from Moscow is captured in all its shades, with stories of brutality and compassion, desperation and resilience, endurance and resignation. We are also shown how various "subcultures" developed, to cope with the cold, the lack of food and shelter, and the over-riding need to survive.
To conclude the book, the author summarizes the events which followed the French retreat from Russia, as the events and policies of 1807 onwards bore bitter fruit for Napoleon. There is a note of pessimism, with persuasive arguments about the more conservative path which European politics took after 1815, perhaps in reaction to the rise of nationalism and the newly aroused aspirations of the "lower orders".
This is an engrossing, diligently researched and beautifully written account of this momentous episode. One thing which occurred me increasingly as I worked my way through it was how little Europe in particular learned from the cruelties, callousness and sheer futility of what happened, as was made clear just over a century later.
To conclude the book, the author summarizes the events which followed the French retreat from Russia, as the events and policies of 1807 onwards bore bitter fruit for Napoleon. There is a note of pessimism, with persuasive arguments about the more conservative path which European politics took after 1815, perhaps in reaction to the rise of nationalism and the newly aroused aspirations of the "lower orders".
This is an engrossing, diligently researched and beautifully written account of this momentous episode. One thing which occurred me increasingly as I worked my way through it was how little Europe in particular learned from the cruelties, callousness and sheer futility of what happened, as was made clear just over a century later.
Tuesday, 1 April 2014
The Trojan War - Barry Strauss
In my youth, the Trojan War was something of a staple in primary education, although the allure of Helen of Troy remained with me longer than the military or cultural niceties. The degree of historical truth seemed to matter little back then.
In more recent times, my increased interest in history of all periods has brought the story back into my orbit. I am currently working my way through Homer's Iliad, and was very pleased to come across Barry Strauss's book on the subject. My inclination, based on the available evidence, has generally been to be reasonably confident that some form of battle took place at the place cited, in the approximate time normally put forward, however much the tale might have been embellished and distorted later.
Importantly this book draws on more recent discoveries and evidence. The author's knowledge and enthusiasm for the whole ancient and Bronze Age world is palpable. I was impressed with the reasoned arguments which he employs, citing innumerable examples of events, traditions and tangible evidence found in the wider region, rather than just the narrow Aegean world.
Strauss rationalizes some of the more "fanciful" aspects of the "legend" in more believable and plausible terms, decoding some of the myths, superstition and symbolism for modern consumption. Things are thereby related in digestible and comprehensible form. Each stage of the battle is analysed in turn, helping to make it lean, compact and manageable.
Strauss rationalizes some of the more "fanciful" aspects of the "legend" in more believable and plausible terms, decoding some of the myths, superstition and symbolism for modern consumption. Things are thereby related in digestible and comprehensible form. Each stage of the battle is analysed in turn, helping to make it lean, compact and manageable.
This version includes the famous characters from the Iliad, whilst allowing that some of them might not have existed in the precise form cited in Homer, if at all. It doesn't adhere slavishly to the Homer line, pointing to instances where he may have exaggerated or demonstrated bias. Other sources, and the author's own conclusions and theories, are used to give the story shape and cohesion.
"The Trojan War" cuts through much of the dusty scholarship that can shroud topics such as this, to provide a breezy and concise telling. Strauss thankfully refrains from spending excessive time agonizing over the minutiae of "authenticity" and veracity, being decisive when he needs to be, imbuing the telling of the story with real clarity and energy.
Interesting theories are ventured on the vexed question of the Trojan House. Whilst not totally ruling out the possibility that a wooden horse might have played some part, the author puts forward a plausible scenario whereby the "horse" of legend acts as a metaphor for some Greek trick,sleight of hand or deception, which provoked the opening of the gates of Troy. Espionage perhaps?
Above all, I found this work informative, entertaining and quite absorbing.
Above all, I found this work informative, entertaining and quite absorbing.
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Thursday, 27 March 2014
The Pursuit of Glory - Tim Blanning
The book is divided into four separate parts, each addressing a different broad topic.
The first part looks at various different aspects of human endeavour, rather than the usual well-worn tales of dynastic intrigue, power-politics and military adventures. Such normally "mundane" matters as transport, agriculture and industry are brought to life, with colourful anecdotes and quotes from the travels of notables and unknowns alike.
Throughout, one gains the flavour of this transitional period - the continuing fall-out from the Reformation, early industrialization, new ideas, colonialism, and the emergence of new commercial classes. Britain, Russia and Prussia were largely in the ascendancy, whereas Spain and Ottomans were beginning their decline in power and influence. Things were changing, both at the rarefied heights of monarchy and power-politics, and also "on the ground", and Blanning ably conveys the extent to which these things were often inter-linked.
Another strand which emerges is the notion of a multi-track Europe. Whereas today Europe is very homogeneous, back then primitive communications, restrictive practices and privilege, superstition and cultural diversity meant that everybody did things very differently, with varying degrees of success. The world was still a very big place.
At numerous points, but particularly towards its conclusion, Frederick The Great features prominently, and the thought occurred to me that his importance lay as much in what his opinions were on some sacrosanct precepts of European life, as it did in his military and diplomatic exploits. His reputation does not just stem from the fact that he spoke French, and played the flute quite proficiently....
Of course, the period covered by this book saw the first stirrings of enlightenment and liberalism, and a plethora of new ideas in science and philosophy. Part of the fascination is the overlap which these developments had with the stubborn resilience of the "old ways". The author seems highly unimpressed with the role still played back then by biblical teachings in dictating, justifying and solidifying many social attitudes.
We are given an excellent examination of how the conception of the more modern state was interpreted and implemented in the various countries, and the ramifications for the future, including the impact on relationships between the various social groupings and sectors.
Blanning has some interesting things to say about both the British system as it was in those days. In this reading, any British claim to be more modern and liberal is to be qualified and treated with caution. It is quite tempting to believe that Britain "moved forward" quicker and earlier than most, but the reality which prevailed well into the 19th century did not always sit easily with the theory or the smug rhetoric. Was much of the "change", "reform", "progress" and "democratization" merely window-dressing, simply providing a mechanism for entrenched privileged sectors to proclaim their "legitimacy"?
The latter chapters, among other things, look at the rise of nationalism, its roots and its manifestations, and the development of popular participation in politics and the public sphere.
A handy and concise "guide" to the French Revolution is incorporated, with some trenchant and well-balanced observation and home truths.
The author also cleverly assesses trends in court life, palaces and architecture, and speculates what they tell us about the waxing and waning of dynasties, ideologies and nations. Similarly erudite attention is devoted to events in intellectual and cultural life, the "revolution v evolution" arguments concerning "reason" and the Enlightenment, and also the potency of the romanticism movement.
To close the book, we have a brilliant and highly readable analysis of the wars of the period, encompassing the decline of France and the audacious rise of Frederick The Great and Prussia. The material on the French Revolutionary Wars, and the background to its inception and progress, I found especially illuminating.
The narrative is critical of Napoleon and his selfishness and stubbornness, but seemingly mildly praises the revised machinery of Europe-wide relations which arose from the wars. Here, as elsewhere in The Pursuit Of Glory, demographic data and statistics are harnessed to good effect.
Whilst reading this absorbing and challenging work, I was left to ponder our current times, and whether we have worked ourselves into something of a dead-end, with no immediately visible escape from some of the less edifying aspects of our modern world. Perhaps we need to summon up some of the dynamism which characterized the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, in order to navigate our way out of stagnation?
Sunday, 9 March 2014
A Brief History Of The Crusades - Geoffrey Hindley
There are some areas of history which are so dauntingly complex in their scale and sweep that a concise book covering the main points is a pre-requisite to a basic understanding. One such book is "A Brief History of The Crusades", by Geoffrey Hindley.
There is a good preamble, setting the scene by way of detailing the landscape as the 11th century came to its close. How the concept of crusades was formulated and instigated, and the problems of leadership and co-ordination.
Hindley graphically covers the propensity of some of the participants to misbehave, recounting the chilling pogroms which occasionally took place, and their effects on the Jewish communities of Europe in particular.
One thing which comes through repeatedly in the story is the difficulty experienced in unifying the various Christian factions and rulers, preoccupied as they were by myriad domestic and dynastic concerns. Even when people could be persuaded to become involved, their own agendas sometimes meant that an enterprise was curtailed, or fatally compromised, before it reached its objective. Often only the divisions amongst the opposition came to the rescue. How easy it was for forces to be distracted by the prospect of financial gain or objectives outside the proclaimed remit of their mission.
Relations with the Byzantine Empire, which were frequently strained and complex, are another recurring theme in the tale.
Hindley provides portraits of some of the colourful characters involved, particularly the knights who spearheaded the military campaigns and those clerical officials whose duty it was to garner support and enthusiasm for the latest crusade.
There are also fascinating passages about the co-existence of the conquerors with the indigenous populace, and the nature of the administration which was established once the initial conquests had taken place. One is struck by the ebb and flow of fortunes over the decades and centuries as expedient truces were agreed and then breached, and new alliances forged to recover lost territory or pride.
To my mind, the author is very even-handed, telling it as he sees it, and making some pointed references to the relative degree of "civilization" or humanity displayed by the two (or more sides) in each engagement or phase of the struggle. Some examination of social conditions and lifestyles in the territories being contested is also included - the role and status of women is considered in some enlightening detail.
An intriguing aspect of the story for me was how the power struggles in Europe impinged on strategy and diplomacy in the Holy lands, and vice-versa.
As well as dealing with the central conflict of Christianity and Islam, the other activities which fell within a wider definition of "crusade" are illustrated and analysed. The gruesome tales of purges of heretics and other alleged "subversives" are shocking, even allowing for the less enlightened and tolerant times in which they occurred.
The author cleverly avoids being overtly judgemental, but I detected in places an implied distaste and disdain for the arrogance of the established church and its presumptions.
The demise and decline of crusading zeal are covered too, including the degree to which other pressing priorities closer to home took precedence.
I certainly know more about the Crusades after reading this book, and a knowledge of this prolonged stage of history is, I would suggest, valuable for a balanced view of European history in general. Doubtless much more extensive and comprehensive material is out there, but this stands as a creditable attempt to explain the basics in a concise and digestible format.
There is a good preamble, setting the scene by way of detailing the landscape as the 11th century came to its close. How the concept of crusades was formulated and instigated, and the problems of leadership and co-ordination.
Hindley graphically covers the propensity of some of the participants to misbehave, recounting the chilling pogroms which occasionally took place, and their effects on the Jewish communities of Europe in particular.
One thing which comes through repeatedly in the story is the difficulty experienced in unifying the various Christian factions and rulers, preoccupied as they were by myriad domestic and dynastic concerns. Even when people could be persuaded to become involved, their own agendas sometimes meant that an enterprise was curtailed, or fatally compromised, before it reached its objective. Often only the divisions amongst the opposition came to the rescue. How easy it was for forces to be distracted by the prospect of financial gain or objectives outside the proclaimed remit of their mission.
Relations with the Byzantine Empire, which were frequently strained and complex, are another recurring theme in the tale.
Hindley provides portraits of some of the colourful characters involved, particularly the knights who spearheaded the military campaigns and those clerical officials whose duty it was to garner support and enthusiasm for the latest crusade.
There are also fascinating passages about the co-existence of the conquerors with the indigenous populace, and the nature of the administration which was established once the initial conquests had taken place. One is struck by the ebb and flow of fortunes over the decades and centuries as expedient truces were agreed and then breached, and new alliances forged to recover lost territory or pride.
To my mind, the author is very even-handed, telling it as he sees it, and making some pointed references to the relative degree of "civilization" or humanity displayed by the two (or more sides) in each engagement or phase of the struggle. Some examination of social conditions and lifestyles in the territories being contested is also included - the role and status of women is considered in some enlightening detail.
An intriguing aspect of the story for me was how the power struggles in Europe impinged on strategy and diplomacy in the Holy lands, and vice-versa.
As well as dealing with the central conflict of Christianity and Islam, the other activities which fell within a wider definition of "crusade" are illustrated and analysed. The gruesome tales of purges of heretics and other alleged "subversives" are shocking, even allowing for the less enlightened and tolerant times in which they occurred.
The author cleverly avoids being overtly judgemental, but I detected in places an implied distaste and disdain for the arrogance of the established church and its presumptions.
The demise and decline of crusading zeal are covered too, including the degree to which other pressing priorities closer to home took precedence.
I certainly know more about the Crusades after reading this book, and a knowledge of this prolonged stage of history is, I would suggest, valuable for a balanced view of European history in general. Doubtless much more extensive and comprehensive material is out there, but this stands as a creditable attempt to explain the basics in a concise and digestible format.
Sunday, 23 February 2014
Europe's Tragedy - Peter H Wilson - book review
In my time in school, history lessons tended to focus narrowly on British concerns, neglecting the momentous events in the wider Europe, which invariably had a greater importance in the grand scheme of things. The Thirty Years' War, for example, was almost entirely overlooked. Even if it was mentioned, it was purely in a "peripheral" context by virtue of its vague connection to British domestic upheavals (the English Civil War, Oliver Cromwell).
This book by Peter H Wilson gives a pretty comprehensive overview of the Europe of the late 16th and early-to-mid 17th century, examining the political, military and religious trends and tensions which were prevalent.
I can imagine that some people will become slightly impatient with the lengthy preamble to the main action of the war itself, but this is necessary in order to equip the reader with a full grasp of the reasons for its outbreak and the varying motives of those who were integral to it. The author assiduously details the numerous political and confessional flashpoints which paved the way, however tortuously, to the eventual conflagration. If the level of detail is confusing and unwieldy at first, I found that the state of play "crystallized" in my mind bit by bit.
Much of the first third of this history concerns itself with the assorted manoeuvres both inside and outside the Holy Roman Empire which preceded the eruption of hostilities in 1618. Portraits of the various key players and protagonists are duly supplied. We see how all manner of considerations - religious, economic, dynastic and power-political - sparked unrest, animosity and confrontation. The various regions (Spain, Baltic, Dutch) are examined, so that we get a flavour of how things on the periphery played their part in determining the course of events.
Another feature which shines like a beacon is the curious and arcane (to modern eyes) way in which central Europe was ruled, organized and generally carved up in those days. It is almost as if someone had started with a blank sheet of paper a thousand years earlier and sought to design a system which would be guaranteed to generate the maximum possible amount of tension, ill-feeling and general unpleasantness. It looked to be riddled with moral hazards, contradictions and fault-lines. The priorities were different back then of course, but from a modern perspective it is fair to say that reason and practicality seemed conspicuously absent.
Gradually, matters become distilled down to the questions of the Habsburg succession, the intriguing of the more militant Protestant territories, and then the Bohemian revolt, where the conflict is commonly deemed to have commenced.
Some of the mysticism and superstition invoked by the radicals on both sides to justify and guide their actions is both comical and absurd, and it is chilling to read of the hatred and intransigence which was so pervasive in those times. It was often the innocent, the weak and the powerless who suffered most. Also, by its nature this was one of those conflicts which entailed troops "living off the land", which gave more scope for atrocities and general brutality.
A large part of the fascination of the Thirty Years' War is the fact that it was not always fought along clearly delineated religious or dynastic lines. Some Protestant states remained loyal to the Empire, seeking a path of constructive engagement or reconciliation. Also, there were machinations and intrigues between rulers who were nominally "allies", but who sought advantage and leverage within these arrangements. Bavaria's approach is a case in point. Much horse-trading took place to secure troops, financing or mediation. The persistent relevance of the Spanish-Dutch confrontation is underscored, both in strategic terms and in the importance of these two factions for the balance of the struggle.
Another recurring facet of the war which I discerned was that the Allied/Protestant cause/rebellion seemed constantly on the brink of collapse, but always managed to revive itself, as new backers, or foreign powers, materialised to step into the breach and breathe new life into the struggle, often with their own agendas and motives for doing so. The creation of martyrs, or the injustice of settlements imposed by the emperor, often spurred resistance and interventions.
As the account of the fighting unfolds, the suffering of the civilians, particularly in Germany, and the ravaging of the landscape and countryside, grows and grows and becomes more and more tragic and stark. Part of the difficulty in conveying the horror and cruelty in such a protracted and fragmented war is that its impact seems less pronounced and concentrated than the more systematic atrocities committed in many shorter conflicts. That said, one senses that the level of violence towards civilians escalated around 1830, with the full intervention of the Swedes in Germany. In saying that civilization has mercifully moved forward since the 17th century, we must not forget the barbarity which humans have inflicted on one another in more recent, supposedly more "civilized" times.
In the context of the suffering and general chaos, some of the peace negotiations, including those which finally concluded matters, appear incongruous in their modernity, vision and moderation.
Wilson also goes to great lengths to convey the social effects and connotations of the development of the war. We are supplied with an insight into how war was managed and prosecuted before the advent of modern nation states, and how the dearth of resources available to rulers and factions necessitated horse-trading and concessions once limited objectives had been attained.
The closing chapters are devoted to an analysis of the legacy of the war and its settlement, its effects on the Empire, and its place in the historical order of things. Wilson also puts into perspective the human, economic and cultural effects of the years of strife, and how they are perceived today.
Reading about the Thirty Years War requires intense concentration, because it is easy to lose track of the shifting and overlapping loyalties and allegiances. However, the protracted and spasmodic nature of the war, with short bursts of fighting interspersed with periods of consolidation and diplomacy, allows one to take stock, and for the mass of data to be assimilated!
If you are seeking a comprehensive and incisive overview of the Thirty Years War, I would highly recommend this book.
This book by Peter H Wilson gives a pretty comprehensive overview of the Europe of the late 16th and early-to-mid 17th century, examining the political, military and religious trends and tensions which were prevalent.
I can imagine that some people will become slightly impatient with the lengthy preamble to the main action of the war itself, but this is necessary in order to equip the reader with a full grasp of the reasons for its outbreak and the varying motives of those who were integral to it. The author assiduously details the numerous political and confessional flashpoints which paved the way, however tortuously, to the eventual conflagration. If the level of detail is confusing and unwieldy at first, I found that the state of play "crystallized" in my mind bit by bit.
Much of the first third of this history concerns itself with the assorted manoeuvres both inside and outside the Holy Roman Empire which preceded the eruption of hostilities in 1618. Portraits of the various key players and protagonists are duly supplied. We see how all manner of considerations - religious, economic, dynastic and power-political - sparked unrest, animosity and confrontation. The various regions (Spain, Baltic, Dutch) are examined, so that we get a flavour of how things on the periphery played their part in determining the course of events.
Another feature which shines like a beacon is the curious and arcane (to modern eyes) way in which central Europe was ruled, organized and generally carved up in those days. It is almost as if someone had started with a blank sheet of paper a thousand years earlier and sought to design a system which would be guaranteed to generate the maximum possible amount of tension, ill-feeling and general unpleasantness. It looked to be riddled with moral hazards, contradictions and fault-lines. The priorities were different back then of course, but from a modern perspective it is fair to say that reason and practicality seemed conspicuously absent.
Gradually, matters become distilled down to the questions of the Habsburg succession, the intriguing of the more militant Protestant territories, and then the Bohemian revolt, where the conflict is commonly deemed to have commenced.
Some of the mysticism and superstition invoked by the radicals on both sides to justify and guide their actions is both comical and absurd, and it is chilling to read of the hatred and intransigence which was so pervasive in those times. It was often the innocent, the weak and the powerless who suffered most. Also, by its nature this was one of those conflicts which entailed troops "living off the land", which gave more scope for atrocities and general brutality.
A large part of the fascination of the Thirty Years' War is the fact that it was not always fought along clearly delineated religious or dynastic lines. Some Protestant states remained loyal to the Empire, seeking a path of constructive engagement or reconciliation. Also, there were machinations and intrigues between rulers who were nominally "allies", but who sought advantage and leverage within these arrangements. Bavaria's approach is a case in point. Much horse-trading took place to secure troops, financing or mediation. The persistent relevance of the Spanish-Dutch confrontation is underscored, both in strategic terms and in the importance of these two factions for the balance of the struggle.
Another recurring facet of the war which I discerned was that the Allied/Protestant cause/rebellion seemed constantly on the brink of collapse, but always managed to revive itself, as new backers, or foreign powers, materialised to step into the breach and breathe new life into the struggle, often with their own agendas and motives for doing so. The creation of martyrs, or the injustice of settlements imposed by the emperor, often spurred resistance and interventions.
As the account of the fighting unfolds, the suffering of the civilians, particularly in Germany, and the ravaging of the landscape and countryside, grows and grows and becomes more and more tragic and stark. Part of the difficulty in conveying the horror and cruelty in such a protracted and fragmented war is that its impact seems less pronounced and concentrated than the more systematic atrocities committed in many shorter conflicts. That said, one senses that the level of violence towards civilians escalated around 1830, with the full intervention of the Swedes in Germany. In saying that civilization has mercifully moved forward since the 17th century, we must not forget the barbarity which humans have inflicted on one another in more recent, supposedly more "civilized" times.
In the context of the suffering and general chaos, some of the peace negotiations, including those which finally concluded matters, appear incongruous in their modernity, vision and moderation.
Wilson also goes to great lengths to convey the social effects and connotations of the development of the war. We are supplied with an insight into how war was managed and prosecuted before the advent of modern nation states, and how the dearth of resources available to rulers and factions necessitated horse-trading and concessions once limited objectives had been attained.
The closing chapters are devoted to an analysis of the legacy of the war and its settlement, its effects on the Empire, and its place in the historical order of things. Wilson also puts into perspective the human, economic and cultural effects of the years of strife, and how they are perceived today.
Reading about the Thirty Years War requires intense concentration, because it is easy to lose track of the shifting and overlapping loyalties and allegiances. However, the protracted and spasmodic nature of the war, with short bursts of fighting interspersed with periods of consolidation and diplomacy, allows one to take stock, and for the mass of data to be assimilated!
If you are seeking a comprehensive and incisive overview of the Thirty Years War, I would highly recommend this book.
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