Friday, September 21, 2012

Book Review: "Store of the Worlds" by Robert Sheckley

Store of the Worlds: 
The Stories of Robert Sheckley
(2012) 

Robert Sheckley (1928-2005)

266 pages

Robert Sheckley explores mankind’s weaknesses and inconsistencies, and imagines the dark potential extremes of our political and social behaviors, in this engaging collection of short stories. Written mostly in the 1950’s, many of these stories appeared in the popular science fiction magazines of the day, though the science fiction aspect is actually secondary of the stories; Sheckley uses it as a form within which to reveal human idiosyncrasies.

Sheckley builds each story around a particular personal or cultural characteristic, which he then extends to humans on a future earth, or traveling to distant planets. Often his stories come with a surprise ending, a twist to spice up his plot. Surprisingly (or perhaps not), despite having been written over fifty years ago the stories do not seem dated; if anything many of the topics could be pulled from today’s news.

An example of this topicality is the story Morning After. In it the main character, like most of his fellow citizens of the near future, is ‘a fully accredited voter, respectably unemployed, moderately well off.’ The earth’s population stabilized, war and poverty eliminated, life on earth had become comfortable and easy. Those with ambition enter politics --- and vie for votes by providing free food, goods and entertainment to any ‘fully accredited voter’ in their district; the politicians who offer the most free services have the most success in the elections. But the loss of ambition worries the leaders of earth, and they search for ways to counter-act it, as the main character discovers to his surprise.

Only a day after reading this story, I read a newspaper commentary which, if it had appeared 55 years ago could easily have served as the trigger for Sheckley’s plot (A Congress for the Many, or the Few? by Fred A. Bernstein, New York Times, 9 September 2012).

In Shall We Have a Little Talk? the government of a future earth sends out space travelers who have an aptitude for learning alien languages. Each traveler goes out alone to seek inhabitable planets, and when they come across one, they befriend the natives and learn their language. But they do not come in peace; once having learned the alien language, they try to buy property on the newfound planet, and, when they are refused for some reason, or have purchased the property and then are disadvantaged in some way, laws passed on earth are used to justify the invasion of earth’s armed forces to right the wrong. Thus the fig leaf of legal rectitude is provided for the take-over of new planets. To simply invade with no justification would be morally suspect: ‘[the majority back on earth] were idealists, and they believed fervently in concepts such as truth, justice, mercy, and the like … and they also let these noble concepts guide their actions --- except when it would be inconvenient or unprofitable.’

Sheckley takes a light tone with the stories; most are only ten to fifteen pages long, and he follows a similar approach in each one, combining the personal, cultural or political trait he wants to dramatize with a bits science fiction color and comedic spice.



Other of my book reviews: FICTION and NON-FICTION

Sunday, August 5, 2012

Book Review: "The Blue Flower" by Penelope Fitzgerald

The Blue Flower (1995) 

Penelope Fitzgerald (1916-2000)










228 pages

Centered on a love story involving the German Romantic poet Friedrich Freiherr von Hardenberg, Penelope Fitzgerald has written an historical novel that provides a fascinating window into life in Germany in the late 1700’s.

As the story opens, Friedrich has graduated from university and returned to his family home in what is now the east-central German state of Saxony-Anhalt. His father, despite being a land owner of noble birth, struggles to make ends meet and cannot support another mouth to feed at home, so he arranges for Friedrich an apprenticeship in a nearby town with a magistrate who also functions as the tax collection supervisor for the larger area; the apprenticeship comes with room and board and a small stipend. Friedrich obeys his father and heads off to take up his new work, though his thoughts remain consumed with the romantic and philosophical musings that are his true interest and calling, and that he would eventually publish and become famous for under the pseudonym Novalis.

A principal part of Friedrich’s apprenticeship involves traveling with the tax collection supervisor through the various local communities to review the records of businesses and land owners. Stopping at the estate of a friend of the supervisor’s, Friedrich falls deeply in love with a young daughter of estate owner, a girl of twelve whose dreamy manner he ascribes to the depth of a romantic soul, as opposed to the shallowness of a simple mind that his friends and family see in her. The balance of the plot of the story evolves around his blind love for the girl, his courting of her, and the reactions of his friends and especially family to this sudden but unshakable infatuation for someone who everyone feels is far his inferior. The conflict between the mental world of a German Romantic poet and the real world he had to live in come clear (at times painfully) on every page.

The love story also serves a deeper purpose for Fitzgerald however: she uses it as a framework within which to describe the daily customs of the families in the story, the internal relationships within families and households, and the interactions between families and friends. Thus she provides the reader an historical view into life at this time, in the form of a novel. Two examples from the book will serve to demonstrate how Fitzgerald’s beautifully crafted writing conveys clearly the world the characters inhabit, without her having to simply state dry facts.

The first example is the opening paragraph of the novel:
Jacob Dietmahler was not such a fool that he could not see that they had arrived at his friend’s home on the washday. They should not have arrived anywhere, certainly not at this great house, the largest but two in Weissenfels, at such a time. Dietmahler’s own mother supervised the washing three times a year, therefore the household had linen and white underwear for four months only. He himself possessed eighty-nine shirts, no more. But here, at the Hardenberg house in Kloster Gasse, he could tell from the great dingy snowfalls of sheets, pillowcases, bolster-cases, vests, bodices, drawers, from the upper windows in the courtyard, where grave-looking servants, both men and women, were receiving them into giant baskets, that they washed only once a year. This might not mean wealth, in fact he knew that in this case it didn’t, but it was certainly an indication of long standing. A numerous family, also. There underwear of children and young persons, as well as the larger sizes, fluttered through the blue air, as though the children themselves had taken to flight.
In one short paragraph Fitzgerald not only introduces the family at the heart of the novel, and its noble but no longer rich status, but also provides insight into how people lived at that time, how something as ‘simple’ as washing the laundry was handled two hundred some years ago. And she does it not simply by telling us, but rather by showing us, in a colorful description so vivid we almost feel like we are standing in the middle of the “great dingy snowfalls” of laundry.

A second example is much shorter, but if possible even more wonderfully done. In a scene that takes place mid-way through the story, Friedrich has gone home to speak with his mother about his new love, and how to break the news to his father. He asks her to meet him alone, at night, in the garden of the estate, “without reflecting what an extraordinary thing it would be for her to do,” going out alone. As they sit together, she reflects on her now adult son:
When Friedrich had been born, sickly and stupid, she had been given the blame, and had accepted it. When after months of low fever he had become tall and thin and, as they all said, a genius, she had not been given any credit, and had not expected any.
Like a picture being worth a thousand words, these few lines tell us so much, not only about Friedrich’s life, but even more about his mother’s: her place in the family and society, her acceptance of that place, and how that acceptance has become so deeply ingrained in her understanding of the world around her that her opinions reflect what she has been told, “as they all said, a genius.”

Fitzgerald’s writing in the novel has a different feel to it from most other historical novels I have read. She plays the role of the narrator, which at times gives the writing a bit of the detached feel of a history book; she will step outside the story and comment on what a character has not realized about the effects of their own actions or words on others, or their lack of awareness of societal norms. But, she also presents extended sections of dialogue, which allows the reader the kind of intimacy with and knowledge of the characters available in a novel. Through this combination of techniques she provides us with a refreshing style in the genre of historical novels that I enjoyed immensely.

Read quotes from this book

Other reviews / information:

A review that discusses positive and negative reaction to the book at Grumpy Old Book Man.


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Sunday, July 29, 2012

Book Review: "Riddley Walker" by Russell Hoban

Riddley Walker (1980) 
Russell Hoban (1925-2011)










238 pages

I dont think it makes no diffrents where you start the telling of a thing. You never know where it begun realy. No moren you know where you begun your oan self. You myt know the place and day and time of day when you ben beartht. You myt even know the place and day and time when you ben got. That dont mean nothing tho. You stil dont know where you begun.
Riddley Walker, the 12 year old title character and narrator of Russell Hoban’s novel, writes these lines early in his story, and they serve as a foreshadowing of the confusion and uncertainty that he faces throughout the novel --- and that we the readers encounter deciphering the strange language and tales of Riddley Walker and his countrymen.

As Riddley narrates his story it soon becomes clear that he lives in the far future, in a world struggling in the long aftermath of a catastrophic war and subsequent natural disasters that set civilization back to a kind of Stone Age from which it is only slowly re-emerging. Riddley’s people occupy farming and forging settlements in what had been south-eastern England, a place they call “Inland” --- the rest of England lumped together as “Outland,” a non-man’s land from which raiders occasionally come to attack and pillage. Of the world beyond the island nothing seems known.

Myths and legends play a critical role in the communities of Inland, providing explanations for the silent rubble that remains from what they know was a glorious past, and for the events and occurrences of their daily lives --- at least in this area of the post-apocalyptic world the organized religions of the pre-war world have not survived the long dark aftermath that followed the war’s destruction. With few among the people of Inland literate, the stories are past down orally, and the various communities of Inland have a “tel woman” who explains events based on the traditional stories.

The most important legend of the Inland community tells of the “time back way back” and the “Bad Times,” when man had “boats in the air” and “pictures on the wind,” but also pursued and discovered deadly secrets to the “1 Big 1” and eventually a power that was used to destroy the world. This legend forms a critical part of what holds the communities of Inland together, and is presented in a traveling puppet show sponsored by a government authority that has developed in Inland (complete with a “Pry Mincer” and a “Wes Mincer”). The show provides a cautionary tale of the misuse of knowledge and power, but the government showmen also subtly adapt its meaning to propagate their preferred policies.

In part a coming of age story, the novel takes place over the span of about a week, during which events in Riddley’s life awaken in him questions about his people’s past and future, and lead him into the middle of a high stakes power game in which it becomes difficult to tell friends from enemies. Even with the burned-out cities and the occasional human deformities serving as constant reminders of the destructive past, as farming communities have again developed and a level of stability has returned to at least their small part of the world, some among the inhabitants of Inland long for the power of their ancestors, and Riddley gets caught in their struggles, as he wrestles with the question of whether it is the pursuit of power that is evil, or only the improper use of that power.

Hoban’s novel has parallels with A Canticle for Leibowitz by Walter Miller, reviewed here earlier. Unlike the majority of apocalyptic novels, it does not tell directly of the apocalyptic event but rather starts far in the future, long after that event has occurred. It also deals with the tightly entwined human desires for more knowledge and more power; for both Hoban and Miller it seems clear that these desires will repeatedly lead human civilization down the same path.  (My other reviews of post-apocalyptic fiction can be linked to from here.)

Although it takes a little time to settle into the strange language that Hoban imagines the many years of chaos and disorder have created out of modern day English, it becomes mostly clear with practice and sounding out the occasional word or phrase. What makes it a bit more complicated is that along with showing the decay of the language, Hoban intentionally altered some words and phrases to end up with double meanings that produce a comic twist. The Expanded Edition of the novel contains a short glossary at the end, with a few of the more complex words translated and explained, but I still found several that I could not make heads or tails of; fortunately the book has inspired a following that has led to web sites with annotations and other information --- one example I used frequently is titled Riddley Walker Annotations. The obtuse language pays off for the reader, however, by enhancing the story in several ways: the distance between the world these characters inhabit and our own remains palpable, and the myths and superstitions that have developed are much more effective in conveying the uncertain world in which Riddley lives.

Other reviews / information:
More information about the book at: Ocelot Factory


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Saturday, June 2, 2012

Book Review: "Waiting for Robert Capa" by Susana Fortes

Waiting For Robert Capa (2011) 

Susana Fortes (1959-)










201 pages

War Is a Force That Gives Us Meaning (a non-fiction book from 2002 by the journalist Chris Hedges) could have served as an appropriate title for this wonderful novel from Susan Fortes about Gerda Taro and Robert Capa, two photographers who travel to Spain in 1936 to cover the Spanish Civil War, and in so doing discover a passion for photojournalism that galvanizes their lives. Although Fortes presents her book as a work of fiction, real people and true events provide its framework, and finally the book feels at once like a biography, an historical novel and a celebration of its two main characters and the lives they made for themselves.

The story opens as two refugees, a German Jew with a Polish passport, Gerta Pohorylle, and a Hungarian Jew, AndrĂ© Friedman, meet in Paris in 1935. They are a part of a large and growing group of refugees who are settling in Paris as Fascism and anti-Semitism cast long shadows over much of Europe in the mid-1930’s. Within a year of meeting the two are traveling together to Spain as photographers to report back on the Spanish Civil War, which represents for them the latest and bloodiest front in the fight against fascism. In an attempt to become more commercially acceptable, the pair have adopted pseudonyms that effectively hide their nationalities and so free them from the prejudice they have experienced as refugees; their new identities are so effective that the world at large comes to know them only by their new names, few even realizing that they are pseudonyms: Gerta becoming Gerda Taro, and AndrĂ© the famous Robert Capa. (Capa is best known for having taken the iconic, though now controversial, photo of the Spanish Civil War, of a republican soldier at the moment he is hit and killed by a nationalist rebel’s bullet; the photo and an essay on the debate by Robert Whelan at the PBS website. More information on the Spanish Civil War can be found at the review of a history of the conflict by Hugh Thomas.)

Many of the photographs Capa, Taro, and fellow photojournalist and friend David Seymour, better known as Chim, took during the Spanish Civil War were actually long thought to be lost, and were only recently recovered in Mexico, in what has come to be known collectively as The Mexican Suitcase. (The name relates to the history of the travels of the set of negatives over the 60 years they were thought lost; more information can be found at The Mexican Suitcase.) In her Author’s Note at the end of the novel, Fortes states that it was seeing a photograph found in this collection that Capa took of a sleeping Gerda Taro that sparked her interest in Taro’s life, and eventually led her to write this book.

The novel takes real events --- that the two met in Paris, fell in love, and traveled to Spain as photojournalists --- and weaves a story out of these simple facts, filling in imagined thoughts, feelings and intimate events. The pair took hundreds of photographs during their time together (though few of each other), and for parts of the novel Fortes seems to construct scenes around a particular photograph one of them took, conceiving a sequence of events that could have led up to the moment the photograph was taken, or that may have played out after the image was captured.

Perhaps because of the important role that photography in general and specific photographs in particular played in Fortes’ creation of this novel, the story develops as a series of vignettes: short, colorful snapshots of Taro and Capa’s lives, like free form poems. The result felt to me a bit like observing a series of related photographs or paintings of a historical event, and imaging a back-story for each one in a way that results in a coherent story for the whole.

Fortes’ beautiful writing wonderfully captures the sudden and explosive transition in Taro and Capa’s lives, from struggling refugees who took pictures they could sell to magazines to earn money for their daily food and rent in a foreign city, to bold photojournalists who took pictures they could sell to magazines to report out the struggle of a people fighting to survive a fascist rebellion in a foreign country.

Read quotes from this book

Other reviews / information:

The novel is reportedly being made into a movie by director Michael Mann.


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Saturday, May 26, 2012

Book Review: "The Mexican Suitcase" from the International Center of Photography

The Mexican Suitcase (2010)  

Published by the International Center of Photography, NY City
Edited by Cynthia Young










2 Volumes

In the mid-1930’s, three refugees from Eastern Europe came together in Paris, sharing a love of photography and an anti-fascist ideology. To survive they would take pictures on the streets of Paris and try to sell them to various journals, or hire themselves out for specific projects or photo shoots. Eventually, they changed their names to more neutral sounding pseudonyms (presumably to make themselves more commercially acceptable), and thus were born Robert Capa (originally AndrĂ© Freidman), Gerda Taro (originally Gerta Pohorylle) and Chim (originally Dawid Szymin).

Political Speech on Land Reform,
Badajoz, Extremadura, Spain;
Spring 1936; by Chim

With the start of the Spanish Civil War in mid-1936, the brutal and bloody battle between the elected government of the Republic of Spain and the rebel, fascist forces led by General Francisco Franco, the three friends traveled to Spain and ‘embedded’ (to use a modern term) with the Republican forces in order to photograph the war, both to earn a living and to get out the story of the fascist threat. A number of their photographs appeared in newspapers, magazines and journals during the war, however most of the negatives of the three photographer’s work from the Spanish Civil War disappeared after the war and were thought lost.
 
Off and on over the years the search had continued for the negatives, eventually leading to a man in Mexico who was rumored to have large collection of negatives that were similar to known photographs of Capa, Taro and Chim: the so-called ‘Mexican Suitcase’ of negatives. In 2007 the negatives were finally tracked downa and eventually delivered to the International Center of Photography (IPC) in New York City; the IPC assembled contact prints of the negatives, and some background history, into this two volume set, as part of an exhibit of the newly found negatives.

Cover of French magazine
Regards, with photo by
Robert Capa
Robert Capa is the most well-known of the three photographers, in large part due to his memorable photograph of a Republican soldier falling backward to his death as he is hit by a bullet while running across a field.  Through the years the photograph has become an object of some controversy, over whether the shot was staged by Capa, and in the introduction to this two volume set this controversy is put forth as one of the reasons the search for the missing negatives was picked up again. Unfortunately, as is described in the introduction, the sequence of negatives that include the fallen soldier was not part of the collection, and so that mystery remains to be debated.

 
Contact print of pictures
from battle for Mardid, University
City and Parque Del Oueste;
Gerda Taro



The first of the two volumes includes a discussion of the background of the photographers, the Spanish Civil War and their involvement in it, and the search for the missing negatives; it also includes enlarged prints of some of the negatives. The second volume contains contact prints of all the negatives that were found in the collection, divided into groups based on who was taking the pictures, and where they were taken, with some brief introductory notes before each group.




If you have an interest in the Spanish Civil War, this set is a fascinating look into the heart of that war, providing critical additional understanding beyond what might be read in the histories written about the conflict.


Other reviews / information:
Visit the International Center of Photography web-site for more information on:

For more details on the years of the Spanish 2nd Republic and the Spanish Civil War: The Spanish Civil War

See the 'Fallen Soldier' picture, and an example of the controversy over it, in an article on a PBS site by Richard Whelan (note also the comments that follow the article).



Have you read this book, others by this author, or similar ones by other authors? I’d enjoy hearing your thoughts.

For more reviews of books on Spain and its history, click a link to my bookshelf of:
Spain and Spanish History

or click one of the following links to my complete bookshelves of:
Fiction or Non-Fiction

Saturday, April 14, 2012

Book Review: "A Fair Maiden" by Joyce Carol Oates

A Fair Maiden (2010)
Joyce Carol Oates (1938-)










165 pages

INNOCENTLY IT BEGAN. When Katya Spivak was sixteen years old and Marcus Kidder was sixty-eight.
So opens Joyce Carol Oates’ slim novel A Fair Maiden; for readers of her earlier work, it will come as little surprise that the innocent beginning does not lead to an innocent end.

Mr. Kidder seeks out Katya as she stops to window shop during her walk to a nearby park with the two young children she is in charge of for the summer, as nanny for a well-to-do family on vacation in a small resort town on the Atlantic coast. He gently and carefully, but persistently pursues her, inviting her to his home with the children for tea, giving one of the children a book he turns out to have written and illustrated, and amazing Katya with his delicate works of art and musical ability. But misunderstanding and distrust arising from seemingly unbridgeable differences in cultural background, age and personality, mixed with the thrill and attraction of someone paying her so much attention, create a growing tension in Katya that must eventually find release --- suddenly and dramatically and with unexpected results. Given Katya as our narrator, we the readers can only share her confusion and uncertainty about Mr. Kidder’s intentions, fearing for her safety, but also intrigued by her new friend and his charming ways.

Similar themes of misunderstanding play out in Oates’ book of short stories that also appeared in 2010, Give Me Your Heart; this novel in fact has the feel of a story that was meant for that collection, but that grew beyond the constraints of a short story as she developed it.

Reading Oates’ novels and short stories it is hard not to either despair at the difficulty of two people truly being able to ever understand one another, or, to feel a deep relief in the belief (hope?) that we the reader at least do not suffer such a fundamental lack of understanding of those around us. And yet, especially in this election season, with what appear to be such large numbers of people screaming past each other in a frenzy to win their point --- red state versus blue state, rich versus poor, conservative versus liberal, urban versus rural --- the inability to reach a reasonable level of understanding between people as displayed by the characters in Oates’ stories can seem to be found around us at every turn.


Other of my book reviews: FICTION and NON-FICTION

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Book Review: "Bismarck: A Life" by Jonathan Steinberg

Bismarck: A Life (2011)
Jonathan Steinberg (1934-2021)
577 pages

Jonathan Steinberg’s biography of Otto von Bismarck reveals the complex personality behind the historical figure best known for having united Germany in the late 1800’s. Described by Steinberg as “a political genius,” Bismarck
held office for twenty-eight years and transformed his world more completely than anybody in Europe during the ninetieth century with the exception of Napoleon, who was an Emperor and a General. Bismarck did it while being neither the one nor the other. 
At the same time Steinberg finds that “the words ‘tyrant’ and ‘dictator’ occur again and again in the letters and diaries of those who lived under him,” while “an Austrian diplomat commented bitterly on Bismarck’s tactics, ‘we appeal to the noble sentiments: patriotism, honour, principles of law, energy, courage, decision, sense of independence, etc. He reckons on the lower motivations of human nature: avarice, cowardice, confusion, indolence, indecision and narrow-mindedness…’” Steinberg’s biography examines these two aspects of Bismarck, the political genius and the petty tyrant.

The biography focuses on Bismarck’s political life, making extensive use of his papers, letters and memoirs, as well as those of people around him, including friends, colleagues and political opponents. There is little discussion or description of his family life, beyond where it intersects with Bismarck’s political career, --- his wife earns mention for the influential and critical friendships early in his career through which he met her, but his two sons only first enter the telling as adults, when their actions and careers affect Bismarck’s political life. A more appropriate title may have been Bismarck: A Political Life, but then the work makes clear that for Bismarck his life and his political life overlapped nearly completely.

Bismarck’s life in politics began already at the university in Göttingen where he enrolled in 1832 to study the laws and science of statecraft. After university he prepared for and passed a pair of state examinations. The first was a legal exam, required to enter the Ministry of Justice; after a short time working in the court system however, he lost interest in that path and took the second stage exam in the area of Civil Service, to enter the Diplomatic Corps, which he subsequently did in Potsdam, outside Berlin. This also failed to inspire him and by 1940, after a brief stint as an army reservist, he has left government and returned to the family estate, taking up a common role among his Junker (nobleman) class: managing the work of the share croppers who farmed the estate lands he had inherited. Though Bismarck traveled during these years, and entertained with enough bravado to become known as the “mad Junker,” Steinberg describes him as “lonely” during this period, and that “he had begun to feel the need for something deeper in his life.” He gradually finds the meaning he seeks through growing involvement with his fellow Junkers on local community councils. Through the connections he makes, he meets the friends and supporters who will help launch his political career --- to their eventual regret, as Steinberg foreshadows and later makes clear.

This very local political activism lights a fire in Bismarck that propels him into his career in first Prussian, then German politics, in the Germany he plays the primary role in creating from the many small Germanic kingdoms of the mid-nineteenth century. In 1847 he achieves an elected position in the Landtag of Magdeburg, and two years later in the Prussian Landtag. Now on the national stage, he manages to use the connections of his class to become close to the Prussian king, Frederick William IV, which eventually earns him, in 1851, the appointment as Prussian envoy to the Bund, the German confederation in Frankfurt.

Steinberg describes how, on this new stage, at the heart of the tensions between Prussia and Austria over the future of the German federation, and the resurgence of France under NapolĂ©on III, Bismarck’s political genius begins to shine, and he “shows his unconventional and acute sense of political possibilities;” practicing what would come to be known as Realpolitik. At a time when official Prussia hated France, and would have nothing to do with the French government, Bismarck, though he shares these sentiments, sees the possibility of using France against what he considers the true enemy of Prussia (i.e., Prussian control of the German states): Austria. He writes to his “friend and supporter, and confident of the Prussian king: “I am convinced that it would be a great misfortune for Prussia if her government should enter into an alliance with France, but, even if we make no use of it, we ought never to remove from consideration of our allies the possibility that under certain conditions we might choose this evil as the lesser of the two.” An early example of his willingness to consider any option to achieve his goals.

Even as Bismarck’s political ability and agility show itself at this early stage in his nation political career, Steinberg points out an episode that demonstrates another side of Bismarck’s personality. Though he has been ordered to write status reports for his chief in Berlin, he only passes them along after providing them in advance to a friend and confident who has the ear of the king, what Steinberg calls “a contemptible betrayal by Bismarck of his duty as a diplomat toward his chief and an act of gross disloyalty to [his chief], who had helped to arrange his appointment.” As Steinberg documents, Bismarck carries out this kind of “betrayal,” and others, many times and in various ways throughout his long career and even after he retires, his first loyalty always to himself, or, one could say, to the success of what he wants to achieve.

After some ten years as a Prussian envoy, Bismarck, with King William now on the throne and the Prussian government at a point of deep crisis between the crown and the parliament over a controversial military budget bill, is appointed in 1862 to the post of Minister-President of Prussia. He would hold that position until March 1890, when Emperor William II forcse him to resign.

During his first ten years as Minister-President, Bismarck engineers wars first with Austria, to drive them out of the German federation, leaving Prussia as the dominant state in the alliance of kingdoms, and then with France, to force the German federated states under Prussian control and into a single country, Germany, with the Prussian King William becoming German Emperor William. Steinberg describes in fascinating detail the careful and complex balancing act that Bismarck carries out to achieve his successes, all the more amazing given he had neither absolute power over the government, nor any direct influence over the army. (The description of the lead up to the Franco-Prussian war I found particularly engaging, as the initial sparks come from a sequence of events that saw the Spanish government requesting a Hohenzollern (i.e., German) prince to become king of Spain, something the French could never allow. As Steinberg writes, this opportune event “gave [Bismarck] a chance to transform European history again.”)

In 1871, with the Franco-Prussian war over, and a united Germany in hand, Steinberg describes the remaining 18 or so years of Bismarck’s career as Minister-President (now of Germany) as a struggle to maintain control over his new creation: “Not even he could run a modern state by himself and he would allow nobody to share it with him.” During these years in particular, Bismarck the “tyrant” comes to the forefront, as he fights with, dismisses, humiliates and dominates anyone who gets in the way of his plans, even at times directing this treatment toward his own sons. The biography breaks these years into two periods: the first roughly 1871-1878, during which Bismarck pursues a more liberal policy, battling the Roman Catholic Church, and eventually breaking with the Protestant conservative friends who had helped him to power. The second, 1879-1890, during which he “drops his liberal allies, makes peace with Roman Catholic Church, attacks Socialism, and introduces welfare and social security.” Steinberg describes a litany of battles during these years that Bismarck has over policies large and small, in which a wide range of political figures, friend and foe alike, suffer his wrath.

Steinberg details also Bismarck’s repeated threats to resign during his career as Minister-President --- resignation being his only lever with which to coerce his Emperor --- often “over absurd, trifling, and insignificant issues.” And then there were Bismarck’s on-going health problems, which reared up any time he felt slighted by the king or crossed in his wishes, and that Steinberg convincingly argues appear to have been caused by the mental stress on an otherwise healthy body; a kind of hypochondria with very real effects.

And yet, Steinberg describes another side of Bismarck, traits that seem in contradiction to the cruelty he could show: “He had many virtues. He was courteous to visitors, irrespective of status…. The modest way the Bismarcks lived struck everybody as remarkable, and his irresistible sense of humour could win over enemies.” He “enjoyed the love and affection of his family and friends,” and, for all the pain he could cause those with whom he worked, “his successes in his career rested as much on the faithfulness, love and loyalty of friends and patrons as well as subordinates,” as on his innate ability.

With his resignation in 1890, Bismarck returned to his family estates, though, unable to go quietly, he continued to stir the political pot through articles planted in the press, almost to his death in 1898.

At several points in the biography, Steinberg states (or cites Bismarck’s contemporaries as having stated) that Bismarck had “no principles:”
Waves of nationalism swept Germany but Bismarck was no nationalist. Liberals saw unity and liberty but Bismarck was no liberal, and, as [German conservatives] now knew, he was no conservative either. Bismarck changed colour like certain deep pools of water which refract the light in various hues.
This lack of “principles” made his practice of Realpolitik extremely effective, because he left open to himself any line of attack that might be effective. As Steinberg convincingly demonstrates, however, through citations from letters and diaries of those around Bismarck, this freedom of movement that Bismarck allowed himself extended to his colleagues, friends and supporters; if he needed to sacrifice them to achieve his goals, or he found them standing in the way of the political direction he wished to pursue, he would clear them out of his way with little or no sentimentality. He had firm goals: the expulsion of Austria from the German federation, the unification of the states of the German federation under Prussia and finally the organization according to his conception of the German sate he created, and any means to achieve these goals was seemingly permissible.

Despite his political genius and flexibility, Steinberg points out that Bismarck could not avoid to
fall victim to that maxim of Edmund Burke about unforeseen consequences:
‘that which in the first instance is prejudicial may be excellent in its remoter operations; and its excellence may arise even from the ill effects it produces in the beginning. The reverse also happens: and very plausible schemes, with very pleasing commencements, have often shameful and lamentable conclusions.’
A fascinating example of this that Steinberg describes, and that to me at least has some resonance in the modern day American electoral situation, concerns Bismarck’s timely call for universal suffrage in the German federation. Steinberg states that
Bismarck had seen that the ‘masses’ in France voted for order not radicalism and had given Louis Napoleon Bonaparte an overwhelming mandate. Would not the German people play the same role in Bismarck’s scheme to strengthen the position of Prussia? He intended to use nationalism … to achieve his goals.
And later that
Bismarck had seen democracy and conservatism could be compatible and he intended to use universal suffrage as he used everything and everybody to achieve his end.

His 'end' in this case: unification of the states of the German federation minus Austria, under Prussian control. He predicted correctly that the people of the states of the German federation would vote against their unpopular sovereigns, and that Austria, with its many minority populations could never accept universal suffrage. Through his call for universal suffrage and other steps, he intentionally ignited the Austro-Prussian war, which the Prussians won, forcing Austria to finally withdraw from the German federation, and transferring into direct Prussian control several of the German states that had sided with the Austrians. At this point Bismarck’s use for universal suffrage was over, but he could not easily put the genie back in the bottle. Over the succeeding decades of his political life as Minister-President of Prussia and then Germany, he experienced the “unforeseen consequences” of his choice to allow universal suffrage, and, what had been a master stroke in his maneuverings against Austria gradually came back to haunt him, as “the people turned out to be Catholics and Social Democrats [who gave Bismarck no end of difficulties], not obsequious peasants.” Bismarck had been correct that the people will vote based on nationalist and conservative feeling, but he had failed to anticipate that they could, and would, at a different time and under different circumstances, vote in support of his Catholic and Socialist enemies. How like politicians of today, who rile up citizens with extreme views to achieve a short-term goal, then find themselves with voters they can no longer control, if admittedly for more petty goals.

Steinberg’s approach in the book is to illuminate Bismarck’s character, his political decisions and his times with extensive quotes from his writing, as well as the writings of those around him. This has the wonderful effect of making the biography feel very alive. The large number and often significant length of the quotations do not seem at all forced, but rather give an immediacy to the story, and add authority to Steinberg’s surrounding discussion. This is enhanced by the variety of sources from which he selects his quotations.

One quibble with Steinberg’s style: he will introduce or focus on a particular person, quickly summarizing their background, and then carry their story into the future over a few paragraphs, before suddenly again resuming from where he left off in the overall timeline of the biography. I found this confusing at times, especially early on before I recognized the approach, as he would describe someone, for example, up to the point of their death, and then suddenly a page later they were alive again. I will say that this way of writing the biography likely makes it more readable in a way, less a simple sequence of facts. But, when trying to keep track of the timeline in detail, I found it distracting at times. Another quibble is with the index, which is structured around the major personalities, with events listed under those person’s names. Thus, many minor characters are not even included in the top level index, and events can’t be looked up directly. This choice of structure has the advantage of making the index a kind of outline, but I prefer the more ‘standard’ approach to indexing items. (I admit that I seldom find an index in any book to be as complete as I would like it to be.)

These minor concerns aside, Jonathan Steinberg has written a fascinating biography of one of the major figures of the 19th century, in a manner approachable even to someone who has an interest in history, but is not an expert. Bismarck is revealed as the political genius that he is commonly described as being in the histories about his times, but also to have been a complex man, a charming host in private, but who could in public life also be devastatingly cruel and mean-spirited when someone, whether friend or foe, countered or stood in the way of his political will.


Other of my book reviews: FICTION and NON-FICTION