Thursday, March 27, 2014

Book Review: "Don't Look Now" by Daphne Du Maurier

Don’t Look Now (2008; selected stories from 1952-1980)  

Daphne Du Maurier (1907-1989)



346 pages

I must first admit that this was a book that I judged by its cover.

A stack of them lay on a table near the bookstore’s collection of publisher NYRB Classics books, and the cover caught my eye as soon as I walked up. When I found out that the cover photo is a still shot from the movie Repulsion, my curiosity grew. (For those not familiar with the film, Repulsion was released in 1965 by Roman Polanski, and starred Catherine Deneuve; it is a psychological thriller, a kind of nightmare-on-film that has one of the qualities I look for in a movie: it grabs you by the throat and doesn’t let go, even once it’s over.)

When I opened the book and discovered that one of the stories was The Birds, which served as the source material for the Hitchcock movie of the same name, I was hooked. Back home, as I sat down to begin reading the book, I was ready for a set of stories that would grab me, ‘Repulsion-like’, and not let go.

And the title story didn’t disappoint. As it opens a couple is having lunch in Venice, where they are vacationing in an attempt to find a return to normalcy after the death of their daughter. They notice two old women staring at them from across the dining room; later the wife returns from the restroom saying that she ran into one of the two, that they are sisters, and that one of them claims to have seen the couples dead daughter sitting between her parents at the table. The husband tries to laugh it off, but his wife is convinced that the women have had a true vision. Soon after this unsettling news the wife learns she must return home suddenly to London, and leaves the hotel to catch the next flight out, with her husband planning to follow her later that day with the car. Hours after his wife’s flight was scheduled to depart the husband thinks he sees her on a passing ferry standing with the two old women, and finds himself drawn into a deepening nightmare of uncertainty that soon has him questioning his sanity.

The Birds, according to Patrick McGrath in the book’s Introduction, “is the masterpiece” of short stories, and it certainly stands out in this collection. The tension builds from the first lines, quickly reaching a fever pitch sustained through to the end of the story. McGrath notes that Du Maurier did not like Hitchcock’s movie adaptation of her story, which had significant changes to the setting and characters. In Du Maurier’s telling, a hired hand on an isolated farm along the English coast must fight to protect his family when winter winds bring a sudden end to fall --- and a deadly change in the behavior of the birds. He and his family hear radio reports of similar occurrences all over England, the newscasters implying that some man-made impact on the climate lies behind the fanatical behavior of the birds, though the exact cause remains unknown. As the days pass the man and his family realize that their neighbors have perished, the government will not be able to help them, and that they must fight on alone against a relentless enemy.

The remaining stories are engaging, but do not achieve the same undertone of unease growing into fear and finally terror as the initial two. Some come closer than others to creating that tension, but for the most part they are either more straightforward mystery stories (say, like “Ripley’s believe it or not” stories), or they build some suspense but then conclude with a kind of final trick --- unlike a story such as The Birds, which has no surprise ending, leaving you with the dread of the unknown future.

In the story Escort, a freighter crosses the North Sea on a trip from Scandinavia to its home port in England during the early months of World War II. In the middle of the trip, far from safety, the crew spot a German U-boat periscope rise up out of the water in the distance, and they begin maneuvers intended to keep the U-boat at a difficult firing angle. As their hopes for survival fade, a fog bank suddenly closes in around them, and brings with it an old-style British raiding ship whose captain offers his assistance. The captain of the freighter accepts the offer, though unable to understand where the old wooden barque has come from and how it will fend off the German torpedoes.

In Split Second, a woman in early 1930’s England tidies up her home and then goes out for a walk through a nearby heath. Returning home she is shocked to discover that her things have been removed and a handful of people claim that they are renting rooms in what has become a lodging house. She calls the police to arrest the burglars, but ends up in custody herself instead. Why can she not convince anyone that she is the rightful owner, and why can the police not track down any of her friends, or her daughter studying at a nearby private school?

A mechanic decides to catch a movie after work in Kiss Me Again, Stranger and ends up falling in love with the usherette who collects his ticket. When he follows her onto the bus after the show and chats her up, his sudden crush for her can’t quite blind him to her odd behavior, starting with the fact that she asks him, as she falls asleep on his shoulder, not to let her miss her stop, at the bottom of a hill, near a cemetery.

A woman lies in a hospital bed, having waited for weeks to have the bandages removed from her eyes in The Blue Lenses. The doctors who performed her eye surgery and the nurses who tend to her are all most friendly and helpful, and her husband dutifully stops to visit each day. When the doctor can finally remove the bandages, he explains that she still has on her eyes protective blue lenses that she will have to wear for a week, and that could make things look odd. The last bandage removed, she looks around the room, and the furnishings do indeed have a blue tinge, though this hardly detracts from her joy at being able to see well again. Looking at the doctor and nurse next to her bed, however, she is shocked to see them with animal heads, the animals corresponding to their individual personalities; she desperately awaits the arrival of her husband later that evening to help her deal with what has befallen her.

In a small village along the coast of Brittany, a young fisherman’s wife frets about her husband’s upcoming fishing trip in La Sainte-Vierge, her brother having died only a year earlier while out fishing on the Atlantic Ocean. Looking for divine intervention, she goes to the local chapel and kneels before the statue of the blessed virgin to pray for her husband’s safe return, and ends by pleading for an acknowledgement that her wish has been granted. When the moon moves out from behind the clouds in the night sky, she sees the longed for blessing through the chapel window, in the nearby grass.

A wrong word at the wrong moment wreaks havoc on three lives in the story Indiscretion. A man is invited out by his boss to lunch to celebrate the boss’s marriage, planned for the following day. When the subordinate explains that his reticence to congratulate his boss is the result of unpleasant relationships he has experienced, his boss goads him into telling more. The man finally gives in, and describes a girl he had run into just the year before, and who turned out to be not who she had said she was. Fate intervenes the next day when the man goes to the train station to see his boss off on the honeymoon.

The closing story, Monte Verità, has an almost mystical tone to it. Two friends grow up climbing mountains together; when one of the pair marries, and goes off on a mountain climbing trip with his wife, she disappears into mysterious monastery-like building near the twin peaks of the mountain. It his left to the man’s friend to discover what has become of her.

If you are looking for tense, disturbing, psychological dramas, you will find a few such stories here, but many of the others end up on the lighter, mystery end of the spectrum. That said, with one’s expectations adjusted just a bit from the dramatic cover picture that serves as introduction to the book, there is much to enjoy and be captivated by in Du Maurier’s writing and construction of these tales.


Other reviews / information:

This is yet another wonderful selection from the NYRB Classics collection.


Have you read this book, others by this author, or even similar ones by other authors? I’d enjoy hearing your thoughts.
Other of my book reviews: FICTION Bookshelf and NON-FICTION Bookshelf

Sunday, March 23, 2014

Book Review: "Hitler's Spy Chief" by Richard Bassett

Hitler’s Spy Chief
The Wilhelm Canaris Betrayal
The Intelligence Campaign Against Adolf Hitler
(2005)  

Richard Bassett











319 pages

Were fate and destiny … not to be cheated by the sincere attempts of men of good will to save Germany and Europe from [the war that] was coming? Was some dynamic … forcing events to run out of control of even the statesmen and spy masters? (p. 162)
In early January 1935, Admiral Wilhelm Canaris took over as the Chief of the Abwehr, the German office of Military Intelligence under Adolf Hitler. Though initially sympathetic to the Nazi cause by virtue of strong anti-Bolshevik feelings he had developed in early 1918 during the brief communist uprising in Germany, by 1937 he had begun to have doubts about Nazi rule. These doubts quickly grew into a conviction that Hitler and the Nazi’s were planning a war that would destroy Germany, and Canaris began actively using his position within the government to work against them, until his actions were finally found out in late 1944, leading to his dismissal, and eventual execution just weeks before the end of World War II. In Hitler’s Spy Chief, Richard Bassett describes Canaris’ background, and his efforts to both undermine Hitler and the Nazi regime, as well as broker a peace agreement with the Allies, in order to save the Germany he loved from what he realized was eventual and complete destruction.

Even the most cursory knowledge of the history of WW II makes clear that Canaris failed in his attempts to bring about a coup against Hitler, a peace accord between Germany and the Allies, or even avoid Germany’s destruction by the Allies. Why then is his story worth more than just a passing interest?

One answer to this question, according to Bassett, lies in what Canaris was able accomplish in his resistance to Nazi policies and efforts --- the “Betrayal” in the book’s subtitle --- and the moral dilemma these actions created for him. Bassett lays out evidence that Canaris’ actions undermined or prevented German military success on a number of key fronts during the war and thereby led directly or indirectly to increased deaths in the German military. How do we assess the morality, he asks, of Canaris sacrificing the lives of his fellow soldiers in an attempt to achieve a perceived greater good for his country?

The other aspect of Canaris’ story which Bassett finds compelling relates to questions raised by the British government’s repeated rejections of Canaris’ attempts to arrange a peace between Germany and the England. Detailing Canaris’ many attempts to contact and come to an understanding with British officials before and during the war, and the reticence of the British government to follow through on these opportunities to have Hitler over-thrown and make peace with anti-Nazi groups, Bassett asks if “the very tangible chances of ending the conflict … earlier with the consequent saving of life, certainly many millions, … be weighed successfully against the durable balance of power hammered out by the victors in 1945, which kept the peace of the world for half a century --- more or less --- though at a high price for the countries of central and eastern Europe” (p. 9)? Although Bassett warns that one who has not lived the difficult life of a statesmen should not “pass judgment on those statesmen … whose decisions vitally affected the duration of the Second World War” (p. 9), the consideration of these questions, and Canaris’ role in creating the subsequent history in which we are now left to evaluate them, form the backbone of this engaging and though-provoking book.

Bassett opens with a dramatic chase scene: early in WW I, on the oceans around South America, the British Navy searches for the Dresden, a German light cruiser that survived a large naval battle at the Falkland Islands won by the British. Having months earlier lost a significant naval engagement to the upstart German navy, the British were desperate to find the Dresden and sink her to make their recent victory compete. For three long months the Dresden and her crew evaded British ships through a well-orchestrated campaign of miss-information, false signals and bribes of local officials; the leader of this game of hide-and-seek: Lieutenant Wilhelm Canaris, the intelligence office on the Dresden. Though the British eventually tracked the Dresden down, Canaris’ ability to keep a host of British ships occupied for so long made him known to the highest levels of the German admiralty, and, according to Bassett, served as Canaris’ initial introduction to the British political and military establishment, including the then First Lord of the Admiralty, and future Prime Minister, Winston Churchill.

In the wake of the events on the Dresden, Canaris escaped interment in Chile and made his way back to Germany, where he found that his reputation had preceded him and so opened doors for him into the German intelligence services. From late in WW I until he became Chief of the Abwehr in 1935, Canaris held positions in both military intelligence and active naval duty, always demonstrating exceptional capability. (This period included his playing a key role in the Spanish Civil War, arranging Germany’s military support for General Franco and the Nationalist insurgents against the Republican Loyalists; for more on this see the post-script below.) His success in these assignments served as preparation for the delicate task that Bassett argues occupied the last years of Canaris’ life: pretend to be an effective and supportive member of the Nazi regime while using his position as Chief of the Abwehr to undermine it wherever possible.

The complex history that Bassett describes of Canaris’ official and unofficial activities in the lead-up to WW II and throughout the war years shatters the simplistic narrative that reduces the war in Europe to only a deadly sequence of battles to the end between the Allies and the Axis. Marshalling evidence from British and German archives, from earlier researchers and from his personal interviews of participants, Bassett reveals the complex political maneuverings and dealings between the two sides that happened in the shadow of the famous military engagements. These activities were not solely of Canaris’ making, of course, however great his role may have been; as Bassett points out, reaching “an ‘understanding’ with Britain … was also high in his master, Hitler’s, agenda,” which allowed Canaris the space in which “to weave his complicated course” (p. 292).

The machinations began already in the year before the shooting started, according to Bassett, as Canaris attempted to prevent Hitler from taking Germany into war. His overtures to the British government met with a mixed audience, however: though some in the government advocated allying with Germany against what they saw as a rising communist threat from the Soviet Union, others found more to fear in a Germany ruled by the Prussian monarchists and military. The appeasement approach of the English Prime Minister Neville was in fact, according to Bassett, not simply an attempt to avoid war, but focused too on actively undermining the anti-Hitler opposition; Chamberlain believed that the traditional German military staff represented a greater threat to peace in Europe than Hitler. Chamberlain’s aggressive pursuit of appeasement thwarted Canaris’ attempts to overthrow Hitler and stave off the war, and leaves us to consider, as Bassett asks, how we should now view (admittedly with the immense benefit of hindsight) Chamberlain’s choice: in the end he did not prevent war, and, by leaving Hitler in place, ultimately, if certainly unwittingly, enabled the eventual genocide of the Jews in Nazi concentration camps.

Attempts to prevent war frustrated, and the battle finally joined, Bassett describes how Canaris’ contacts with the British continued into the war years, though maintaining them grew ever more challenging. As the war continued, Canaris not only sought to reach an agreement with the British on a peaceful settlement, he at the same time undermined German war plans on a number of fronts by giving biased military intelligence (for example, of the ability of the British to resist invasion) and passing critical intelligence information to foreign governments (such as the British and Spanish) which supported their efforts against the Nazi’s.

Looking first at the peace efforts, Bassett points out that these are sensitive topics even today, in Britain in particular; despite the growing evidence of these contacts, he argues that few historians want to admit that any peaceful solution may have been sought by the British government during the war, especially in light of the ultimate Allied victory and the revelations of Nazi genocide of the Jews. Bassett states, however, that in the early years of the war, when the German army had pushed deep into the Soviet Union and the British learned that the Soviets and Germans were pursuing a peace treaty, British officials became worried that such an agreement would focus Hitler back toward the West. This concern made the British eager to consider a settlement with Germany first, especially those who were more strongly anti-Bolshevik than anti-German. Canaris’ work once more came to nothing, however, as the Soviet army turned the tide against the Germans and Britain’s position became reinforced by America’s entrance into the war; the British government’s interest in coming to an early peace evaporated. Again hindsight is 20-20, but we are left to consider how would Europe look different today, and how many lives could have been saved, if the British and Germans had come to an agreement in the early 1940’s, when Germany controlled the situation in the east?

The second aspect of Canaris’ activities during the war was his undermining of the Nazi regime and the German military effort. Bassett argues that Canaris had two motivations for his actions: one was to try and end the war sooner to avoid Germany’s destruction, while the second was to show the British that he was acting in good faith in his search for a peaceful solution. Some of what Bassett describes of Canaris’ “betrayals” he is able to document through papers in government archives and interviews with key participants; for other events he points out that it is only possible to speculate based on the limited available evidence. In cases where the documented evidence is lacking, Bassett lays out for us how he reached his conclusions and leaves it to us to decide if we find them reasonable. He builds a convincing case, however, for Canaris having pursued a fairly wide range of activities to undermine the Nazi regime, and performing a bit of a tightrope act to keep his actions hidden. Beyond actions affecting the military, Canaris reportedly also used the power of his position as head of the Abwehr to save some Jews from the concentration camps. Bassett points out that Canaris “was, like … so many of the other German officers, always to suffer from the internal contradiction of his military oath … and his opposition to the regime” (p. 291). Here again, Bassett leaves it to the reader to determine how we assess Canaris’ actions and his handling of the conflict between his responsibilities to his country and his fellow soldiers.

Bassett carefully documents the points he makes in the book, and from comments in the Acknowledgements, Preface, Author’s Notes, Source Notes and Bibliography it seems clear that he did extensive work over many years researching Canaris’ life and actions, and the reactions on the British side. During his research he dug into archives and existing histories in English and German, and interviewed people connected with the events in the book as far back as the early 1980’s. All of which though leads to my one complaint with his otherwise engaging story: he writes it as if to an insider of those times, a case being made to a historian and not a lay reader. To give but one example: “It is important to remember that Chamberlain’s actions had the unreserved support of the entire cabinet, including Duff Cooper.” Who is Duff Cooper, and why is he mentioned here? He doesn’t appear any where else in the book, including in the index or sources, just this one mention in passing; certainly I can go and look him up, but what is the significance of his “support”? There are many such references throughout the book, of people and locations mentioned without explaining who they were or where they were located, some of which I had to do a fair amount of searching on-line to actually track down.

Having said this, a more “typical” lay reader, who may not have my obsession with tracking down some mostly minor details, can read past these references with little being lost. And at any rate, this minor shortcoming does not take away from the fundamental thrust of the engaging history that Bassett has researched and written. The story of Canaris’ actions as head of the Abwehr under Hitler complicates history, in a way, offering a view of the machinations present in a Nazi regime that can often seem from the history books to have been tightly unified. More broadly, the book exposes the complex relationships that existed between Germany and Britain in the years leading up to the war, and the contacts that continued into the war years as success on the battlefield ebbed and flowed. Perhaps most importantly it gives us a view into the mind of a man caught in the middle of the maelstrom, who chose to stay and fight for what he believed in --- his country and his conscience --- at what was extreme personal risk, as events ultimately proved.


POST-SCRIPT

Due to my interest in Spain and Spanish history I found the details of Canaris’ involvement in Spain particularly intriguing. He first traveled there during the second half of World War I, assigned to organize an undercover infrastructure in Spain for supplying German U-boats. In between the world wars Canaris returned to Spain with orders to set-up connections to support the rebuilding of German military capability out of sight of the Allied monitoring commissions established at the end of WW I. Finally, Canaris played an important role during the Spanish Civil War in having Germany supply the Nationalist forces led by General Franco. Bassett notes that during these repeated periods in Spain Canaris developed a strong attachment to the country:
As the storm in Europe began to gather momentum, Canaris found increasing solace in his tours of Spain. He found Spain a welcome distraction from the events of growing crisis in central Europe. For Canaris there was a ‘constant exhilaration’ associated with Spain. He loved Spain, not because of its sights or landscape, but because he sensed an empathy with its soul and character. His staff noted how his spirits rose when he was in the Iberian peninsula. The ruinous Spanish roads, the undeveloped, in some areas almost feudal, conditions seemed so remote from his homeland of modern Germany and yet thanks to his superb command of the Spanish language, his unteutonic appearance and his intelligence, he could pass as a Spaniard whose home these worn sierras, windowless churches and mud-build villages were. (p. 137)
Canaris’ love for Spain led to one of the critical ways in which he undermined the German war effort, according to Bassett. In late 1940 Hitler met with Franco at Hendaye, France, on the Spanish border, intent on getting Spanish agreement for a joint attack on Gibraltar, control of which would secure the Mediterranean for the German navy. Bassett claims that Canaris, in the hopes of derailing Hitler’s plans, provided Franco information on the German military and commercial situation, as well as Allied naval capabilities, with which Hitler’s arguments could be countered and deflected. In a meeting that Hitler later described as “like having teeth pulled” (p. 200), Franco and his subordinates avoided coming to an agreement without giving an outright rejection, and were subsequently able to hold to this position long enough for Hitler to finally become distracted by his planned invasion of Russia the following summer.

Thus, by helping Franco avoid becoming involved with Germany during WW II, Canaris may have spared Spain from becoming the second western front against Hitler, and so having a second major war ravage the country in less than a decade. With this move, Canaris was able to accomplish two goals at once: undermine the German military success and help the Spain he loved avoid further destruction.

But taking a broader view of Canaris’ life makes his impact on Spain becomes more complex to evaluate. Canaris’ role in having Germany arm the Spanish insurgent Nationalists, enabled Franco’s forces to ultimately defeat the Republican loyalist government forces in the Spanish Civil War. Canaris’ interest in supporting the Spanish Nationalists grew out of his long-held anti-communist beliefs, and his awareness that the Republicans in Spain, abandoned by Western democracies such as England, France and the U.S., were being increasingly supported by the Soviet Union. Soviet support was turning the Spanish communist parties, which before the war had small (less than 10%) support in the population, into a major political force; Canaris raised the threat of Germany being surrounded by communist countries to successfully lobby Hitler to support Franco. Thus, based on Bassett’s research, Canaris played a key role in Franco’s forces winning the civil war, and so the birth of the Franco dictatorship which ruled Spain into the early 1970’s. (Bassett points out that Franco later acknowledged this ‘debt’ by offering Canaris’ widow and daughter a safe-haven in Spain after WW II.)

How would, or should, a Spaniard, or someone who ‘loves Spain’ react to Canaris’ actions. The what-if’s become overwhelming at this point. What if Canaris had not kept Spain from becoming involved with Germany during the war, and the Allies had eventually invaded Spain? Would it have meant a much earlier end to Franco’s dictatorship, and involvement of Spain in the Marshall plan, thus avoiding decades of isolation and poverty? What if, earlier, Canaris had not led Germany to get involved in the Spanish Civil war, and the Soviet-backed Republican government forces had been victorious, creating a communist Spain, what would have occurred in the opening years of WW II? Would Germany have continued through France to invade and most likely easily defeat a weakened Spain, drained by years of Civil War and still divided politically due to the significant conservative fraction of the Spanish population, and so gain control of the Straits of Gibraltar and a much stronger position in the war? What would have been Spain’s future in that case?

These are questions that will never be answered, of course, and in a Spain that continues to deal with the aftereffects of its Civil War and the long dictatorship that followed there would likely even today people who would view Canaris’ role and its affects with widely differing responses. Bassett clearly feels that Canaris chose courses of action in Spain out of a love for the country and its ways. One can wonder how Canaris himself would evaluate the subsequent decades of the Franco dictatorship. Perhaps the cautionary tale here goes back to Bassett’s statement near the opening of the book, as quoted earlier, that one who has not lived the difficult life of a statesmen should not “pass judgment on those statesmen,” and that unintended consequences are simply a part of the risks of choices we must make.

Other reviews / information:
For more on the Spanish Civil War, follow this link my review of Hugh Thomas’ book The Spanish Civil War.  Thomas mentions Canaris’ involvement with the Spanish Nationalists, though in a footnote states that there have been varying opinions among historians to the extent of his role. Bassett could, I suppose, counter that he has had access to much more newly available documentation than earlier researchers…

Have you read this book, others by this author, or even similar ones by other authors? I’d enjoy hearing your thoughts.
Other of my book reviews: FICTION Bookshelf and NON-FICTION Bookshelf

Friday, February 28, 2014

Book Review: "The Measure of Reality" by Alfred W. Crosby

The Measure of Reality:
Quantification and Western Society, 1250-1600
(1997)  

Alfred W. Crosby (1931)

245 pages 
 Europeans were not as magnificent as they believed, but they were able to organize large collections of people and capital and to exploit physical reality for useful knowledge and for power more efficiently than any other people [starting in the late Middle Ages]. Why?
Preface, (p. x)
Historian Alfred W. Crosby has written several books on the cultural and ecological effects of European expansion into the world. As he states in the Preface to his book The Measure of Reality however, his work in those areas left him with a nagging question: What made European imperialism so successful? A number of historians and anthropologists have considered and written on this question over the years, perhaps most famously Jared Diamond in Guns, Germs and Steel; in The Measure of Reality
Crosby presents his answers to the origins of the European advantage.

With the book’s subtitle, Quantification and Western Society, 1250-1600, Crosby tips his hand: the key feature leading to Western European success, he concludes, was a transformation in their perception of the physical world. He argues that Western Europeans had held a qualitative understanding of their world since classical antiquity, but that during the late Middle Ages they began to question their model of reality, and that under the pressure of this questioning it gradually gave way to a new, quantitative view. He concludes that the fundamental European advantage as they expanded into and colonized much of the world is not to be found in a particular technology, or a biological or ecological happenstance, but rather in their “new way … of perceiving time, space, and material environment” (p. 227).

Crosby divides his analysis of the causes of this critical transformation into two parts. The first half describes the qualitative nature of Western European thinking in the early Middle Ages, and then goes on to review what Crosby feels were some important conditions present in Western Europe that served as prerequisites for the transition to the new way of thinking, and some prominent developments during this time that he give evidence of the transition in progress. In the second set of chapters Crosby highlights the areas he feels led to “striking the match,” that is, that were the principal causes of the transition to what he refers to as the new Western European "mentalité."

Crosby begins by exploring the set of beliefs about the world and perceptions of their physical reality that Western Europeans held well into the heart of the Middle Ages, what he refers to as the “Venerable Model.” A key feature of this view of the world was its qualitative nature: Western European knowledge of the physical world at the end of the first millennium was, according to Crosby, more a dramatic narrative than a measured description. He recounts, for example, that many “known things” were tied to the bible and not considered as even needing to be questioned; that numbers could have qualitative meaning, with some being better or more appropriate than others, such as the number three being tied to the Holy Trinity; and that reality was perceived as heterogeneous, so that just because something behaved in a particular way where one lived, did not mean that it could not behave in a radically different way in some far-away place. What the Venerable Model gave Western Europeans, Crosby argues, was an understanding of reality and their world that provided “structures and processes that a person could live with emotionally as well as comprehend intellectually” (p. 22). This model did not, however, invite questioning or evaluation of its fundamental meaning or accuracy.

Crosby then proceeds to outline the conditions in Europe that laid the groundwork for the radical changes in Western ways of thinking that he feels occurred beginning in the 1300’s. He refers to these as the “oxygen and combustibles,” but advises us not to confuse them with the true causes that eventually led to the transformation in thinking.

One such condition was the arrival into Europe of translations of the works of Greek scholars of antiquity such as Plato and Aristotle. The Europeans revered these ancient scholars as a part of their cultural heritage, but most of these classical works had been lost during the centuries of the Middle Ages after the fall of the Roman Empire. Arab scholars, however, had preserved these works, and contact between Arabs and Western European Christian and Jewish scholars in the late Middle Ages re-introduced the texts into Europe, causing an upheaval in European thinking. Western scholars could not dismiss the classical works out of hand because of their importance in European cultural history, but in trying to align the new knowledge with the existing Venerable Model they were forced to develop increasing complex and often contradictory explanations. Thus, the existing Western view of the physical world was suddenly thrown open to question and examination. Once this door opened to questioning previously accepted truths, it could not so easily be shut again. Crosby also notes that the study of the large numbers of these new texts led to the development of novel ways of cataloging and organizing information, and to the tendency to quantitatively measure what was being studied to be able to make clearer statements about it.

A second condition present in Europe was the growth of a new merchant class.  Crosby states  that the elites of the church and state found this development difficult to control, and that as it grew in size, it  drove changes in Western behavior and thinking. For one, to increase their profits the merchants began developing machines, thus becoming drivers of new technologies. In addition, their increasing commercial activity with far-away and previously only dimly known lands brought with it the introduction of new ideas and knowledge which often challenged Western European’s existing beliefs and understanding.

A third condition, which in fact reinforced the first two, was the division of Europe into many kingdoms, small and large, representing a variety of political, religious and intellectual outlooks. Crosby argues that the lack of the centralization, and so standardization, present in many other parts of the world made Europe a fertile ground for new ideas. Scholars who became unwelcome for their studies in one kingdom, for example, could often find refuge and continue their work in another where the cultural and intellectual environment was more welcoming (or simply because the two kingdoms happened to be in competition). The variety of kingdoms also fostered the independence of merchants due to the fact that the elites own hold on power often depended heavily on the abilities and wealth of their merchants.

Finally, the re-introduction of money played an important role in the transformation to a quantitative way of thinking about the world. Crosby notes that although the Roman Empire had used cash, Western Europeans did not for much of the Middle Ages. As the merchant class and thus commercial activity expanded, money was re-discovered as an efficient way to give items and work a measurable worth. With the advantages of using money, however, came also challenges: the various kingdoms created different currencies, and in addition Europe found itself chronically short of money due to limited and already exploited gold and silver deposits. These challenges led to a high emphasis being placed on developing new ways of tracking and valuing money --- “no people on earth [were] more obsessed with counting and counting and counting” (p.74) states Crosby.

Having established the “oxygen and combustibles” leading to the transformation in Western Europe away from a qualitative view of the world, Crosby next looks at some specific areas that saw dramatic and influential changes. In separate chapters on Time, Space and Mathematics he shows how advances in these areas provide evidence of the new way of thinking that was developing.  He cautions us that the developments in these areas represent only “necessary but insufficient causes” of the transformation in Western European perception of the world, and that he describes them in part to ensure we do not mistake them for the true causes, which he outlines in the second half of the book.

The chapter on Time describes how Europeans moved from having hours in the day which could vary in number and length from country to country and even season to season, to defining a standard, consistent, universally applied measurement of time, and the fascinating story of the development of the first mechanical clocks. It also reviews the gradual switch to a more accurate, standardized calendar led by Pope Gregory XIII in 1582, though he notes that some orthodox and protestant Christians clung to their unreformed calendar for centuries afterwards in protest.

Moving to the changes in Western perceptions of Space, Crosby describes how the introduction of the compass from Asia and the increased commercial travel between distant ports drove the preparation of better and more accurate maps, and so more generally to a new understanding of geography and spatial relationships --- again a move away from a qualitative view to a more measurable, structured view. Ultimately this led to the questioning and finally overturning of the Venerable Model’s view of the universe as concentric spheres with Earth as the center.

Crosby concludes the first half of his book with a review of the significant developments made in the area of Mathematics. He describes how in the late Middle Ages, Europeans gradually switched from using Roman numerals to the Hindu-Arabic numbers we are familiar with today; over time came also the definition of symbolic operators such as the ‘plus’ and ‘minus’ signs. These changes simplified the work of counting and calculation for merchants trying to track their business dealings as well as the investigation and description of the physical world for scientists. They also enabled rapid developments in areas such as algebra and geometry, which would in turn impact a broad range of other human activities, including the arts.

But these advances in mathematics and new understandings of time and space, while evidence of the transition in Western Europe to a new, quantitative way of thinking about the physical world, were not its ultimate causes according to Crosby. He defines them as “necessary but insufficient causes” and, having detailed the prerequisite conditions present in Europe during the late Middle Ages, as well as these “insufficient causes,” he turns his attention in the second half of the book to what he feels were in fact the true causes of the new Western European mentalité.

Playing off his naming of these true causes as “the striking of the match,” Crosby asks the following question: given the “oxygen and combustibles” present in Western Europe in the late Middle Ages, what lit the flames that served to destroy the old ways of thinking about the physical world, and so permitted Western European thinking about time and space and mathematics to take on the quantitative form and structure so familiar to us today? For Crosby, the triggers came out of radical advancements in three areas: Music, Painting, and Bookkeeping. In separate chapters he examines how developments in these three subjects led Western Europeans to develop a less qualitative, more quantitative world view.

He looks first at dramatic changes that took place in Western European view of music. Up until about 1000 A.D., Crosby notes that music was mostly liturgical, and performed from memory; it was also monophonic, with the musical structure dictated by the Latin text. Eventually, however, the canon of works became too large and difficult to memorize, and had to be written down, which drove the development of some way to clarify to a reader of the music such things as pitch and timing. By the 11th century, what we recognize today as the musical staff had been created, with symbols defined to indicate pitch, as well as other features of the music. (Crosby makes a wonderful digression here, explaining the source of the now universally known “do, re, mi …” sequence.) Thus, music became “visualized,” a critical development; suddenly it could be subjected to mathematical analysis and understating, and complex, polyphonic music could be created visually, on paper --- centuries later this meant that Beethoven could continue to compose music even after he became deaf, because from seeing it on the page he could hear it in his head. More generally, these new methods moved beyond the church, to street musicians and other entertainers --- spreading with them a quantitative mindset where before only a qualitative view had been present.

Crosby next turns his attention to painters, and in particular the development of perspective in painting. He notes that Medieval pictures could have multiple “nows” depicted at once, essentially telling a changing story in one painting; similarly they could depict an object from several viewpoints at once, or use exaggerated size to show relative importance. Thus a qualitative view of a scene or image was represented, as opposed to one which attempted to capture the physical reality seen by the artist. Beginning in the 1300’s according to Crosby, Western Europe began encountering examples of different styles of art from outside lands, and by the 1400’s was developing a growing obsession with the mathematics of optics and geometry. The exposure to other art opened Western European artists to the idea of new ways to represent scenes, and some began introducing more accurate perspective into their paintings, if not always consistently. As the mathematics around optics and geometry became more fully developed and formalized, artists used the new knowledge to pursue perspective in their paintings more rigorously, and sought to create as realistic a representation of reality in their paintings as possible. Thus the influences of increasing trade along with the developments in mathematics led to new ways of thinking about painting which encouraged a quantitative and realistic view of the physical world.

The third area which Crosby states played a critical role in developing the new European mentalité is that of bookkeeping --- a seemingly mundane topic, though in Crosby’s telling it is anything but. Before the 10th century, most goods were sold by peddlers: individuals who had a limited stock, which they sold over a limited area, and so who had little need to keep detailed track of their accounts. By the 10th century, peddlers were turning into merchants, trading in a variety of goods and in many different locations. As commerce increased it became critical to be able to track it accurately. Crosby states that merchants initially used a kind of narrative style for this tracking, similar to a diary. This narrative approach gradually evolved into a more quantitative, mathematical accounting, first with the switch from using Roman numerals to Hindu-Arabic numbers, then, in a major step that he writes was first taken in Italy, the development of double-entry bookkeeping. With these new developments, a merchant’s accounts and standing could relatively clearly and accurately be tracked and analyzed. The new techniques eventually allowed the development of companies and bureaucracies, entities that would have the ability to initiate and control businesses and lands world-wide.

Crosby concludes then that the significant and fundamental changes that occurred in the areas of music, painting and bookkeeping during the late Middle Ages opened the minds of Western Europeans to a new way of perceiving their physical world. The key element of this new view was its quantitative nature: it became acceptable and normal to subject and constrain the world to a standardized, measurable basis. With this new mentalité in place, dramatic advances in science, technology and business became possible, leading in turn to improvements in areas such as military armaments and commercial organization that would provide a nearly invincible advantage for Europeans as they colonized and exploited the physical world beyond their shores.

Reaching the end of the book, however, I thought back to the original question in the Preface: “Europeans …were able to organize large collections of people and capital and to exploit physical reality for useful knowledge and for power more efficiently than any other people…. Why?”  Although Crosby makes a convincing case for the development of this new quantitative mindset in Western Europe, from defining the “oxygen and combustibles” to describing what he feels constituted the “striking of the match” and the proximate advances that resulted, I found myself differing with him on where to place the emphasis. Say we agree with the general flow of his argument: that a new mentalité gave Europe the advantages it needed to dominate much of the globe from the 15th century onward, that this new way of thinking arose in particular from dramatic changes in how Europeans thought about music, art and bookkeeping (“the striking of the match”), and finally that these changes were possible because of the specific set of conditions that existed in Europe in the late Middle Ages. Accepting that sequence as reasonable, is it not the “oxygen and combustibles” that must be considered the most critical element, the key to the whole transformation? The counter argument would be that these conditions existed or could have existed elsewhere in the world (in China, say, or India, Africa or the Americas), but that the people in these other societies were not able or would not have been able to “strike the match”. I suppose it could be argued that non-Europeans were somehow genetically or environmentally unable to make use of similar “oxygen and combustibles,” but I struggle to see that as a reasonable conclusion.

Instead of accepting that line of argument, I am drawn back to Crosby’s description of the situation that existed in Western Europe during the late Middle Ages, and in particular the confluence of two critical conditions he points out --- two of his “oxygen and combustibles.” First, Europe was a collection of small-to-large kingdoms, and not standardized or centralized around a particular set of religious, political or intellectual ideas, which enabled scholars and others to move to a more welcoming neighboring state if necessary, and thus allowed new ideas to grow and develop with less risk of being squashed out by the existing elite. Second, into this diverse constellation of kingdoms arrived texts from the ancient Greek philosophers, works that had been lost for nearly a millennium, but that Europeans viewed as part of their heritage. Given the revered status these ancient Greek scholars held in European culture, the new knowledge gained from these texts could not be dismissed out of hand despite the fact that much of it conflicted with the existing, accepted European view of the world. Thus European scholars were forced to develop and adapt their view of reality to account for the new information, and once that path was opened --- once such questioning was accepted --- there was no turning back.

With this confluence of conditions, this set of “oxygen and combustibles” to refer back to Crosby’s analogy, could it not be argued that it was only a matter of time before “the striking of the match” took place? That the changes in music, painting and bookkeeping, and other areas, were the not surprising outcome of a society that was questioning its most fundamental beliefs? The situation that existed at that point in European history seems to me to have constituted a unique environment, which permitted the dramatic Western European expansion in knowledge and then power that followed. (And, if one considers the introduction of the ancient Greek works back into Western Europe as a critical component in Europe’s eventual rise to power, then the fact that this transfer occurred from the Arabs to the Europeans largely as a result of scholarly exchange in Moorish (Arab) occupied Spain seems rather ironic in light of today’s so-called battle of civilizations.) If another part of the world had experienced the same confluence of conditions, is it reasonable to assume they would not have developed a new mentalité, a quantitative view of the world?

All of this quibbling about true causes aside, Crosby has written an engaging narrative describing the Western European transition to a qualitative view of their physical world. Don’t let the somewhat dry and esoteric sounding title of the book dissuade you; in this review I have outlined his thesis, but in each chapter of the book he introduces us to key moments and people in the slow but steady march through this transformative time in world history. We discover surprising facts about this period, and about the origins of our current way of perceiving the world and operating in it. As just one example: I have little musical training or background, but I found his chapter on the changes that occurred in music in the late Middle Ages fascinating and thought-provoking. And my reaction to the rest of the book was similar. Beyond the fundamental question that Crosby wants to answer with his book --- wherefore the European advantage --- we come away with an often startling new understanding of how many of the things we take today as common sense actually came to be developed not so very long ago.
 

Other reviews / information:
This book has been on my to-read shelf for a while (since 1997 actually), and when I finally pulled it down a couple of weeks ago, I saw the name Alfred Crosby and noticed that he had written books on The Columbian Exchange and Ecological Imperialism, and it rang a bell. Going back to look at Charles Mann’s book 1493 (find my review here), I realized this was the same Crosby who Mann writes of as having helped stimulate his interest in the subject, and so leading to his research and books, which also include 1491 (find my review here).

A critical point of interface in medieval Europe was in Moorish Spain, were Arab, Christian and Jewish scholars came together, as detailed in books such as Moorish Spain by Richard Fletcher, and The Ornament of the World: How Muslims, Jews, and Christians Created a Culture of Tolerance in Medieval Spain by María Rosa Menocal.

Have you read this book, others by this author, or even similar ones by other authors? I’d enjoy hearing your thoughts.
Other of my book reviews: FICTION Bookshelf and NON-FICTION Bookshelf

Saturday, February 8, 2014

Book Review: "Love in a Fallen City" by Eileen Chang

Love in a Fallen City (2007; stories originally written in 1943-47) 

Eileen Chang (1920-1995) 

Translated by Karen S. Kingsbury

324 pages

Chinese society experienced traumatic changes during the first half of the twentieth century. As the Qing dynasty ended in 1912 with the founding of the Republic of China, ancient traditions were giving way to western influences. In the midst of this cultural upheaval came the Japanese invasion, in 1937, and a brutal occupation that deteriorated into a harsh struggle for survival for the Chinese people. Even after the defeat of the Japanese in 1945, the remaining years of the decade saw China descend into a long civil war.

The Chinese writer Eileen Chang lived through these dramatic and difficult years, and they colored her work. Born in Shanghai, in 1920, she spent much of the first thirty years of her life both there and in Hong Kong. In the 1940’s, while studying English literature in Hong Kong during the Japanese occupation, she began writing stories and essays, taking care to remain below the radar of the occupation regime.

Love in a Fallen City collects together a half-dozen of her stories from that period. (It also contains an Introduction by the book’s translator Karen S. Kingsbury, with biographical information, and a short Notes section that provides context for some terms in the stories that may be unfamiliar to a western reader.) Chang’s stories reveal the challenges faced by both men and women as the strict cultural norms of their parents slowly, fitfully gave way to more western notions of romance and love. Where before families had carefully arranged the meeting and nuptials of a couple, now some young men and women could choose for themselves; but they might also suddenly find themselves judged and trapped by old standards and customs to which many in Chinese society steadfastly held. For some this resulted in a paralysis of choice mixed with fear, while for others it became a time of reckless abandoned.

In the opening story, Aloeswood Incense: The First Brazier, a girl from Shanghai is living with her family in Hong Kong and attending university. When her family decides to return to Shanghai, she resolves to find a way to stay in Hong Kong and continue her studies. She approaches a wealthy, divorced aunt who lives in the city, but who has long been estranged from the family for her socialite behaviors, and asks to live with her. Though the aunt takes her in, the girl soon realizes that her aunt has motives beyond simple familial obligation. As she becomes increasingly caught up in the charms and risks of her aunt’s social world, and the barely hidden schemes in which her aunt involves her, the girl struggles to maintain her balance.

An awkward boy is befriended by the attractive daughter of one of his professors in Jasmine Tea, but doubts the depth of her feelings. Hints he has found of an earlier relationship between his dead mother and the girl’s father further complicate his relationship with her.

In the title story Love in a Fallen City, a woman has divorced her husband and moved back in with her family; the family resents having the extra mouth to feed, and yet also refuses to try and help her re-marry. She realizes that she must take matters into her own hands, and when she is attracted to a man who had been picked out for her younger sister, but who seems to show an interest in her, she makes her move. But does he seriously want to marry her, or simply have an affair?

The only one of these stories to be translated by Chang herself, The Golden Cangue follows the life of a woman whose family has married her into a more well-to-do family, but to a husband who turns out to be a sickly, tubercular cripple. (A cangue is a heavy wooden collar enclosing the neck and arms, and resting on the shoulders; it was used in Asia to humiliate petty criminals.) On her own in the family and frustrated by her situation, the woman turns bitter and vindictive, simply waiting for her husband to die so she can inherit his money. When this finally comes to pass she receives enough for her, and her son and daughter, to live on comfortably, but has become so scarred by the experience that she alienates everyone around her, believing that no one cares for or loves her, and that they are only after her money.

In a demonstration of Chang’s elliptical reference to the Japanese invasion and occupation in these stories, Sealed Off opens inside a Shanghai tram filled with passengers as it comes to a halt one evening rush hour when unnamed authorities unexpectedly seal off parts of the city. A businessman heading home discovers that a pestering nephew is also on the stuck tram. Not wanting to talk to him, the man quickly switches seats to sit next to a young woman with whom he then strikes up a conversation. Initially cool to his sudden attentions, she gradually opens up to him; but what are his motives with her, and how deep his interest?

The final story, Red Rose, White Rose, centers on a man who has studied in England and returns to China to take up a job in Shanghai. He moves in with a friend and, despite having a reputation as someone who can remain unaffected in the presence of a beautiful woman, falls in love with the friend’s wife. But he finds her too flirtatious and not very smart, and he worries about the scandal of an adulterous relationship, so he leaves her and settles for an arranged marriage. Increasingly unhappy with his new wife, he begins questioning the path he has chosen, his behavior becoming erratic and destructive. How can he regain his former peace of mind?

In each of these stories Chang mixes incredibly rich and colorful descriptions of life in early 20th century Hong Kong and Shanghai with the inner thoughts of her characters and their often pointed dialogue, as they verbally spar with one another, each trying to discover the other’s true motives while not revealing their own. The stories are written as though someone is remembering back to these times, and in fact some of the stories open with a brief paragraph or two which set-up a narrator telling the story to someone sitting with them. Although there is a main character in each story, whose path and thoughts Chang generally follows, she also switches at times to the point of view of another character, and their thoughts, before returning again to the main character. This technique deprives us as readers of the typical sympathy toward the main character over others in the story; here we find that each character struggles with and feels trapped by their own confused desires in the world of changing norms in which they live. And each discovers their own way of dealing with this struggle.

The wonderful stories in Love in a Fallen City provide us a window back into the tumultuous world of mid-20th century Shanghai and Hong Kong.


Other reviews / information: Eileen Chang also wrote the novel Love, Caution, which was recently made into a movie, directed by Ang Lee; watch the trailer here.

Others of her stories, including some in this collection, have also been made into movies in China.

Born Zhang Ying, she also went by Zhang Ailing (Zhang being the family name).

This is yet another wonderful selection from the NYRB Classics collection. See their review of the book here.

Have you read this book, others by this author, or even similar ones by other authors? I’d enjoy hearing your thoughts.
Other of my book reviews: FICTION Bookshelf and NON-FICTION Bookshelf

Sunday, January 26, 2014

Book Review: "The War Prayer" by Mark Twain

The War Prayer (1905)
Mark Twain (1835-1910)


85 pages
To Dan Beard, who dropped in to see him,
Clemens read the “War Prayer,” stating that
he had read it to his daughter Jean,
and others, who had told him he must not
print it, for it would be regarded as sacrilege.

“Still, you are going to publish it, are you not?”

Clemens, pacing up and down the room
in his dressing gown and slippers,
shook his head.

“No,” he said, “I have told the whole truth
in that, and only dead men can tell the truth
in this world.

“It can be published after I am dead.”
From: Mark Twain, A Biography by Albert Bigelow Paine
Harper & Brothers, 1912 

This recollection serves as the Forward to The War Prayer by Mark Twain. (Twain’s real name was Samuel Clemens; Dan Beard was an illustrator who work on several of Twain’s books.) Reading The War Prayer one can understand Twain’s hesitation. This powerful short story represents a carefully crafted indictment of the feverish righteousness and thoughtless jingoism that leads to the glorification of war, and that can bring forth cheering crowds of soldiers, their loved ones and also their envious “neighbors and friends who had no sons and brothers to send forth to the field of honor, there to win for the flag or failing, die the noblest of noble deaths.”

In the story, Twain turns the tables on these cheering masses as they gather in church before the troops head for the front, where the preacher beseeches God to watch over “our noble young soldiers and aid … them in their patriotic work; … [and] help them to crush the foe.” As the preacher finishes his rousing speech “an aged stranger” enters the church, and ascends to where the preacher stands before the crowd. After some moments silently staring down at the crowd, he announces to them “I come from the Throne --- bearing a message from Almighty God,” and proceeds to describe to them the “full import,” the “unspoken” in what they have asked of God. He lays bare for the crowd the gruesome reality behind their requests to God, the horror of the war for which they cheer so mightily.

Based on what I’ve learned, the story was originally written in 1905, but not published until 1923, after Twain’s death. The Perennial Library edition I have logs in at 85 pages, but the story is really only a relatively short text, spread out among many illustrations, with sometimes only a few words or lines per page. The illustrations were created by John Groth in 1968, and are hauntingly arresting ink drawings that complement the story perfectly; the book cover, pictured above, shows an example. One can easily imagine the impetus for these drawings, and the reprint of the book itself, arising out of the growing anti-war sentiment of the late 1960’s. The book is as brilliant and concise an anti-war statement as can be found.


Other reviews / information:

For another amazing anti-war piece, see the short story The Dog of Dürer in Marco Denevi's Falsificaciones (Falsifications).
 
A sentiment similar to that expressed by Twain in The War Prayer appears in a novel from 1938 by the German writer Erich Wiechert, The Simple Life (Das einfache Leben; my review here). In that story, a man who finds himself lost in an existential crisis in the wake of his experiences in the first world war seeks out a new life of simple labor in the countryside. Finding profound and compelling meaning in the work and natural surroundings of his new life, he begins to reconsider the meaning of the faith he grew up with.  Questioning the character of God, or perhaps more precisely, the commonly accepted image of God held by his fellow countrymen, he decides:

...I will find a different face [of God]. Not one that is to be beseeched, and not one that is to be thanked. Not one before whom people will begin shouting: “Now thank all ye God!”, if they have just beaten to death a thousand or ten thousand men. Because then must the others clearly be shouting: “Now curse all ye God.” (241)


Have you read this book, others by this author, or even similar ones by other authors? I’d enjoy hearing your thoughts.
Other of my book reviews: FICTION Bookshelf and NON-FICTION Bookshelf

Friday, January 24, 2014

Book Review: "Disgrace" by J. M. Coetzee

Disgrace (1999)
J. M. Coetzee (1940)











220 pages

In the New York Times Book Review a few months back, two essays appeared in the Bookends section that considered the question of whether it is important for readers to like the characters in a novel. I don’t recall how the two writers came out on the question, but I remember thinking that, for me, although I don’t feel that I need to particularly like the characters of a story, or agree with their world view or their actions, it would be difficult to read a novel built around a main character who I fundamentally dislike. Then again, if one believes Carl Jung’s claim, it may be that such a book is the best one to read: “Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to an understanding of ourselves.”

Which brings me to J. M. Coetzee’s novel Disgrace, and its main character David Lurie, who I admit I found extremely difficult to like. Lurie, in his early 50’s and divorced, is a professor of literature at a university in Cape Town, South Africa. Early in the story he meets one of his students, twenty year old Melanie, while walking across campus, and in short order prevails upon her to have sex with him. Events quickly spin out of his control, and soon the university has expelled him. Shunned by the university community and his neighbors, he leaves Cape Town and heads across South Africa to the home of his daughter, Lucy, who lives on a small plot of land in the countryside. There she boards dogs and raises produce for the local farmer’s market. The transition for Lurie from his urbane, university lifestyle could not be more dramatic.

From my summary so far, Lurie is simply a character exhibiting his humanity, flaws and all. But then we turn to his personality. He arrives at his daughter’s doorstep “disgraced,” as he puts it, and yet immediately begins to judge her lifestyle and life-choices, as he does with everyone he meets in the novel, even those from his past who he only thinks about. And he doesn’t keep his opinions to himself; insufferably smug and self-righteous, he criticizes most everyone he meets, whether the university committee members who bend over backwards trying to find a resolution short of expelling him, or his daughter and her friends and neighbors. And he appears to wear his disgrace as a badge of honor, proudly describing to his daughter how he did not give in to the investigating committee, did not allow any compromise that would impugn on what he found to be the romantic and poetic beauty of his love for Melanie, irrespective of her being his student. Most disturbingly, though he at times recognizes the effect his actions or words have on others, this self-recognition at most moves him to pity them, not to hold back his pointed comments. Lurie is a difficult character to stand, and as a reader I often wanted to reach into the pages, grab hold of his shoulders and give him a good shake.

Which Coetzee then does for us, as South Africa’s post-apartheid history rides hard into the lives of Lurie and his daughter. The moment arrives with little or no warning for them, or for the reader, and it changes completely the physical and psychological trajectory of the story. As Lurie attempts to come to grips with what has happened, he first turns angry, trying to manage the aftermath with the overarching self-assuredness that comes naturally to him. But the incident has shaken him deeply; where he had earlier confidently justified to himself his coercion of a student into bed, or his high-handed disdain for his university colleagues, he now finds himself unable to make things right again, or even shepherd them in a direction he finds appropriate. Suddenly isolated and at a loss how to move forward, he struggles to recreate himself as he contemplates his now shattered self-confidence and emasculated wit. Moving between his old home in Cape Town, and living near his daughter to support her, he passes through a kind of wilderness of the soul as he seeks a new basis for his life.

Disgrace begins as a character study of a man deeply set in his rather pedantic ways, before becoming, in hardly more than an instant, the story of someone forced to recognize and confront his advancing age and abrasive personality. In that same pivotal moment Coetzee shifts the place of the novel under the readers feet, from a nearly generic anywhere to a harsh and bracing commentary on modern South Africa and its apartheid past --- a past that can seem like a distant memory only a heartbeat before it comes exploding back into the present. And the disgrace that opens the novel, the one that Lurie can appear to wear as a badge of honor: that disgrace suddenly pales before real disgrace, violently imposed, whether individually or collectively, leaving a stain difficult to bear.

Read quotes from this book

Other reviews / information:

I have also reviewed Coetzee's novel Waiting for the Barbarians.
 

Have you read this book, others by this author, or even similar ones by other authors? I’d enjoy hearing your thoughts.
Other of my book reviews: FICTION Bookshelf and NON-FICTION Bookshelf

Sunday, January 19, 2014

Book Review: "2312" by Kim Stanley Robinson

2312 (2012)

Kim Stanley Robinson (1952)











660 pages

Science fiction stories tend to imagine one of two distinct futures for humanity: a collapse into dystopian chaos, or a transcendent shift into a more advanced phase of existence. Dystopian societies have been generally described as resulting from both unforeseeable events, such as an asteroid hit or alien invasion, or unsustainable choices, such as human environmental or political shortsightedness. More optimistic writers have shown us overcoming and moving beyond our self-induced difficulties --- often after teetering on the brink of disaster --- to move ahead together to explore space as a united world.

In 2312, Kim Stanley Robinson envisions what could be considered a third, middle path into our future, one in which humanity survives, and science and technology continue their accelerated development, but in which people are fundamentally little different from us today. Looking three centuries into our future, Robinson assumes that a too long delayed response to global warming has led to significant ice melt and so rise in ocean levels. Inundated coastal areas have either been abandoned or had their cities built up Venetian-style, with skyscrapers towering over flooded former streets, and people using built-up promenades and boats to get around. Looking for relief, and resources to use on Earth, mankind has moved out into the solar system, establishing laboratories and mining settlements on other worlds. On planets, moons and asteroids communities and eventually colonies have grown from these initial footholds; in some places terraforming has been done to create human-habitable climates, while in others covered cities have been built. Technological development in the areas of computing power and robots threatens to cross that difficult-to-define boundary into the dream (or nightmare?) of artificial intelligence. Perhaps most dramatically, scientific understanding and developments have led to radical changes in medicine and human biology, leading to significantly longer life spans, and the emergence of what can best be referred to as new varieties of people, with extremely small or tall body types say, or mixtures of male and female characteristics.

Yet despite all of these marvels, in Robinson’s imagined future human nature has not fundamentally changed from our present day. The science and technology that have allowed expansion into the solar system have not resolved Earth’s significant problems: it remains a densely populated world with extreme inequality and balkanized politics. The colonies, for their part, have largely resolved the inequality issues that plague Earth, but people have carried their tendencies toward nationalism and provincialism out into the solar system; even as the colonies have grown independent of the Earth-side nations that founded them, and trade and travel have flourished, they struggle among themselves for access to and control of the resources of the solar system. And although Earth and these off-world communities remain reliant on one another in significant ways, their interactions are marked by escalating tensions; Earth-bound societies envy the prosperity of the colonies, which, aided by the limitations inherent to the physical realities of their off-world existence, have been able to experiment with new, more effective economic and political regimes.

These rising tensions in the solar system drive Robinson’s plot, his novel being part vision of our future and part detective story. His main character is Swan Er Hong, an artist living in a city on Mercury, who finds herself thrust into the middle of a mystery as the story opens, when her grandmother dies of apparently natural causes. Swan discovers that her grandmother had been leading a system-wide group of people trying to find a way to counter what they see as the growing threats from balkanization of political power across the solar system. Though she initially hesitates to join the group, the need for action becomes clear to her when an attack destroys her city on Mercury. She joins her new partners as they move back and forth through the solar system over a period of years struggling to understand who is at the center of the Mercury attack and other similar disasters, and how to stop them. In the year 2312 events come to a head, as conflicting parties struggle to impose their will on events that will impact the future development of civilization on Earth and throughout the solar system.

Despite the plot that ties the story together, Robinson’s novel is not a simple action-adventure story. It develops slowly, moments of drama alternating with sections that introduce to us the outlines of this future world. Chapters that advance the plot are interlaced with several titled simply “Lists”, which itemize things or ideas, confronting the reader with the variety of this future world, and still others labeled “Extracts”, which contain a few pages of what appear to be brief passages from some far future encyclopedia, looking back at the events leading up to this pivotal year of 2312. 

All of these parts together present to us Robinson’s imaginative take on how our present day world will develop into the future, which can perhaps best be captured in his reference to “Jevons Paradox, which states that the better human technology gets, the more harm we do with it.”(348) Robinson makes clear that in 2312, the jury remains out on whether Jevons Paradox stands as an ineluctable destiny, or a fate that can be overcome; his main characters fervently desire to believe the latter, but events continuously conspire against their hopes. (William Stanley Jevons was an 1865 economist.)

Throughout the novel, Robinson leaves little doubt about where he sees our current choices leading us; in one of the Extracts chapters a future historian looks back, stating:
the space diaspora occurred as late capitalism writhed in its internal decision concerning whether to destroy Earth’s biosphere or change its rules. Many argued for the destruction of the biosphere, as being the lesser of two evils. (138)
 In a similar vein, his main character, as she struggles to provide aid back to Earth and its people, observes with frustration the plight of the masses at the bottom of the income ladder:
Humans were still not only the cheapest robots around, but also, for many tasks, the only robots that could do the job. They were self-reproducing robots too. They showed up and worked, generation after generation; give them three thousand calories a day and few amenities, a little time off, and a strong jolt of fear, and you could work them at almost anything. (350)

Enter Robinson’s world of 2312 not for the action and adventure, though his story also succeeds on that level, but rather to immerse yourself in a vision of what our collective future world could become. The detective story that drives the plot develops rather slowly through this book’s 600-plus pages, and ultimately the struggles and experiences of the characters as they uncover the dangerous forces at play in the solar system serve as only a part of the whole in our understanding of this future world Robinson imagines. What fleshes out his vision for us are the ideas and future-history Robinson details in the interludes and asides to the main story; in these we discover one of human kind’s possible futures, and how it will be driven by the consequences of the political and economic choices we are making today, and as well as our inherent capabilities and limitations.


Read quotes from this book

Other reviews / information:

Maybe better to check-out after you finish reading the book, as I suppose it represents a very minor 'Spoiler', but there is an interesting representation of one aspect of the story at Orbit Books.


Have you read this book, others by this author, or even similar ones by other authors? I’d enjoy hearing your thoughts.
Other of my book reviews: FICTION Bookshelf and NON-FICTION Bookshelf