This Library Has a New Look

I threatened to move this blog to the new Blogger template last year after Let Me Be Frank made such an impressive transition, and now I’ve gone and done it.  I wanted to make the background either my home library or a large reading room and ultimately went with the latter. At the moment I have two concerns about the blog’s look: first, it seems a bit….dark. If you are not viewing the blog on a widescreen monitor, some of the picture is cut off — including my favorite part, the “NO CELLPHONES” sign. That’s what sold me on the picture to begin with! (I take pleasure in staying disconnected! 😉 ) I think the cut-off eliminates the brighter portions of the background and makes the blog as a whole seem darker. Secondly, the font color may make it harder for some viewers’ eyes. If this is a problem for you, please let me know.  White may stand out more.

Here’s what you are missing if you are not viewing this on a widescreen monitor, by the way:

I bought a new PC back in the fall of 2009, and as a consequence I’ve gotten positively spoiled: the blog’s appearance on more squarish monitors never occurred to me.  Baley of The Reader’s Book Blog showed me what it looked like from her end, and while it’s not as…attractive as the widescreen view, it also hasn’t prompted me to go back to ye old drawing board.  I may see what the page looks like with a background picture of my home library in the future, but ever since adding that Cumulative Reading List ‘page’ last night, I’ve been wanting to complete the transition to modernity.

Special thanks to Jamie of the Broke and the Bookish for telling me how to convert Great Big Lists of Labels into delightfully tidy drop-down lists, and to Baley for her feedback and encouragement.

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The Black Echo

The Black Echo
© 1992 Michael Connelly
375 pages

It’s the week before Memorial Day 1991 in Los Angeles, the city of stars, urban street gangs, and smog — and Detective Hieronymus “Harry” Bosch has been called in on a Sunday to check out a possible overdose in a pipe. It’s just a quick job: all he needs to do it is confirm the initial suspicions. If Harry’s partner had been called to the pipe, or any other officer, that might have been the end of it — but Harry takes his job seriously and notices the little details that others would ignore for convenience’s sake. He notices the lack of tracks leading into the tunnel, the unusually pure heroin ingested by the dead man, the indications in the pattern of how his clothing is arranged that indicate he was drugged and dragged in This is no accidental overdose. This is murder.

But who would murder this man, a shiftless Vietnam veteran who has drifted from job to job in the twenty years since the end of the war? Driven by duty — both to the badge and to a former comrade — Harry digs in, annoying his fellow police officers who see only another broken veteran who sought release in a drug that killed him. That’s not unusual for Harry, who is an excellent detective but a miserable police officer. Once he’s committed to a task, he has little patience for rules or people who get in the way. Harry is a perpetual outsider who pains those who work with him,, a grizzled lone wolf, a man on a quest —- and that quest links his case to a bank robbery in which the culprits used Los Angeles’ vast system of underground flood-control tunnnels to dig inside the bank’s vaults.  A year later, the FBI is still looking — but now, they and Harry join forces. They must work quickly, because the thieves may strike again come the weekend.

This is my first time reading Michael Connelly, and I rather enjoyed the experience. I suppose the world-weary police veteran with a hidden heart of gold is a familar character,  but I like Harry.  The book unfolds through the course of a week, as Harry tries to build his case while battling charges by the grudge-holding department of Internal Affairs, who despise a curmudgeon.  There’s a little romance and a lot of plot twists — so many, in fact, that the last one doesn’t emerge until after the actual crime has been taken care of.  There are subtle fragments of evidence woven throughout the book that allow the reader to put the pieces together for him- or herself, without relying on bursts of insight from Bosch.

Perfectly enjoyable book: I liked the gritty detail of it, and the intriacacy of the plot impressed me. I’ll be continuing in this series as I’m able.

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This Week at the Library (12 – 19 January)

Most of the books I read are strictly for myself, aside from the odd request from a friend to read a book to see how it is. This week, though, I reviewed two books (Sex on Six Legs, To End All Wars)  for Houghton-Mifflin Harcourt through NetGalleys. Neither of them have been released yet, and both proved good reads. To End All Wars was particularly exceptional.  In fiction, I read Bernard Cornwell’s Redcoat, which surprised me. While historical, its drama is mostly interpersonal, focusing on a young British soldier whose loyalties grow more complicated during the occupation of Philadelphia in 1777-1778.

Selected Quotations:

“You have no quarrel with Germany!” he roared. “German workmen have no quarrel with their French comrades….we are told international treaties compel us [but] who made those? The People had no voice in them!” As he spoke, the sky over London blackened with storm clouds, and before he finished, they burst in a torrential downpour.

That evening, Germany demanded from Belgium passage for its troops.  

(p. 91, To End All Wars. Greg Hochschild.)

“I knew it was my business to protest, however futile protest might be,” wrote Russell decades later, “I felt that for the honour of human nature those who were not swept off their feet should show they stood firm.” 

“I should like the words ‘alien’ and ‘foreigner’ to be banished from the language. We are all members of the same family.”  – Charlotte Despard 

– As quoted in To End All Wars

“I think to think of the nuclei of our cells, not as perfectly tuned whirring machines, each gear essential, but as vast echoing warehouses of factories. Entire machines are outdated and useless, left rusted in a corner but never taken away and demolished. Others are jury-rigged out of pieces from older models and newer ones, rattling jerkily through their paces but ultimately manufacturing something usable.” 

p. 55, Sex on Six Legs

Potentials for next week…

  • The Age of Absurdity by Michael Foley. I’d intended to read more of it this past week, but wanted to focus on the two advanced reviews.
  • The Rise and Fall of the Bible: the Unexpected History of an Accidental Book, by Timothy Beal. This is another advanced review copy, huzzah. 
  • The Black Echo, Michael Connelly. I saw its main character on TvTropes last night as being characterized by saying “Either everyone matters, or no one does”, which I approve of. The character in question is a grizzled LAPD detective, so I’m expecting an urban mystery.
  • A Far Better Rest, Susanne Alleyn. A Tale of Two Cities from Sidney Carton’s perspective. Again, a TvTropes discovery.
  • Beyond Band of Brothers: the War Memoirs of Major Dick Winters, Richard Winters.  Winters died recently, so I thought it might be appropriate to read his memoirs of parachuting into D-Day.  (Technically before  D-Day, but the two are inexorably bound together.)

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Sex on Six Legs

Sex on Six Legs: Lessons on Life,  Love, and Language from the Insect World
© 2011 Marlene Zuk
246 pages, not including index.

Disclaimer:   I read from an advanced review copy of the book, available through NetGalleys. No compensation for a review, good or negative, was offered or requested, aside from my own potential enjoyment of the book.

Like many of her subjects, Marlene Zuk’s popular treatment of insect life is short, buzzing with excitement, and gruesomely fascinating.  Insects are the most numerous and varied life on Earth. While the functions they play are essential in maintaining a healthy ecology,  a close examination of them reveals a captivating world of behavior that is not only interesting in itself, but can shed light on questions of interest to humanity — like the origins of language and personality.

Zuk kicks off Sex on Six Legs by explaining the scientific advantages of studying insects beyond simple curiosity.  Because insects are so far removed from humans in appearance — and indeed, given their tubular mouths and exoskeletons, repulsive to many — conclusions about insect life are much less likely to be tainted by our tendencies to anthropomorphize the subjects at hand. As relatively simple creatures, the genetic causes of behaviors are far easier to track down than in humans, and their quick lifespans are a boon to scientists studying the effects of genetic manipulation on evolution.  Insects perform the same essential acts of life as humans, and seem to engage in behaviors similar to our own — language, parental care, and community living. Though in most cases insects and humans have taken different routes to the same result,  with insects the behaviors must have an exclusively genetic basis: most insects, like beetles and flies, are solitary creatures whose behavior is not taught or influenced by parents or a society’s needs.  Finding this basis could shed light on the similar genetic foundation of human behaviors.

There’s no denying that Zuk is an entertaining writer, filling the conversational narrative with her dry humor and giving sections whimsical names like “Incest and the Solution to Physics Envy”.  Her subjects are endlessly intriguing, and many a time I was left staring at a page in mute horror after reading descriptions of wasps who zombify roaches and led them into her lair  to be munched on by her little ones — or of spiders who as babies suck blood from their mother’s legs until she is too weak to move, at which point they devour her. Zuk is successful, though, in making the book more than voyeurism:  her chapter on how insects contribute to the study of ‘sociogenomics’  added much to my knowledge of genetics, for instance. Not everything in a given species’ genome consists of usable DNA, and if grasshoppers and other insects are any indication, some species carry far more junk than they do viable information.  Also of note are the chapters on social behavior, addressing questions of insect communication  and organization — no one does court intrigue like ants sizing up potential queens, or consensus democracy like a hovering swarm of honeybees searching for a new home.

Sex on Six Legs will delight anyone with a curiosity about insects, and impress those who think little of them. It’s look into a vast world that most people rarely see, one with lessons to teach about evolution and life as a whole.  The book will be available from Hughton Mifflin Harcourt in the first week of August.

Related:

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Booking through Thursday: Periodicals

From Booking through Thursday:

Even I read things other than books from time to time … like, Magazines! What magazines/journals do you read?

Back in 2000, when getting excited about the release of The Sims, I bought a magazine called PC Gamer and enjoyed it enough that I subscribed for years thereafter, until after I’d graduated high school. My machine could no longer play modern games, and since the magazine had gotten thinner and less attractive visually, I let the subscription lapse. I keep them in a box in my closet, which baffles anyone who asks about  it. I maintain that one day I am going to want to read those old editorials and staff pieces. It’s mostly a sentimental value, though. Because I now have a not-yet obsolete gaming rig, I have entertained notions of resuming my subscription.

I also bought Disney Adventures magazine faithfully as a kid, since it was my only way to stay hip about pop culture.

At the library, I browse National Geographic, The Smithsonian, and other random science/history magazines that catch my eye. I sometimes read Newsweek or Times, but this only rarely.

In bookstores, I sometimes buy copies of mental floss, Star Trek: the Magazine,  The Skeptical Inqurier, and the odd pop history magazine. I’d like to subscribe to magazines like Free Inquiry, UU World, and The Humanist, but as a student my mailing address tends to fluctuate and I do not like forwarding addresses. I’d also like to try Analog magazine, the modern form of the old Astounding Stories, but I have not read much real science fiction and find “hard SF” to be a bit intimidaitng. In the future I can see subscribing to Scientific American. I’ve read one issue and enjoyed it.

I also receive The Historian, a historical journal, as a benefit of being a member of Phi Alpha Theta. Even though I’ve not read any of them in full, I’m always happy to see them arrive in the mail — same goes for a science magazine(ish) the Howard Hughes Medical Institute used to put out.

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Teaser Tuesday (18 January)

This is my 52nd Teaser Tuesday, which means I’ve been following the little game for a year now. That may be “just shy” of a year, since my first TT post was published on 19 January 2010.  I enjoy this weekly diversion, though it and Top Ten Tuesdays keep me up entirely too late on Monday evenings. 😉

Since this is an anniversary, let’s make it a triple course!

“You wouldn’t become an American for liberty, Sam, because you don’t think we lack it. And you wouldn’t become an American out of a republican conviction, because you can’t even spell it — but you’d become an American for Caroline. That’s what love is, Sam.”  

Redcoat, Bernard Cornwell.

This is overly long but entirely too good to not share.

The NCF [No-Conscription Fellowship] scored another another rhetorical point when, in the course of one legal case, a lawyer on the government’s side, Sir Archibald Bodkin (best known to history as the man who would later get James Joyce’s novel Ulysses banned from publication is postwar England) declared that “war will become impossible if all men were to have the view that war is wrong.” Delighted, the NCF proceeded to issue a poster with exactly those words  on it, credited to Bodkin. The government then arrested an NCF member for putting up this subversive poster. In response, the NCF’s lawyer demanded the arrest of Bodkin, as the author of the offending words. The organization’s newspaper — named, with deliberate irony, the Tribunal — called for Bodkin to prosecute himself, and declared that the NCF would provide relief payments to his wife and children if he sent himself to jail. 

To End All Wars, Adam Hochschild. 
I was planning on posting a teaser from Sex on Six Legs, but do you really want to read the context of the phrase “pulsing inside with fly”? 
…yes?  Okay, then. It’s your stomach.

Once a female fly locates a calling cricket, she deposits tiny larvae on him. A larva, usually one but sometimes two or even three, burrows inside the cricket’s body and starts, every so slowly, to eat his flesh while he is still alive. First it feeds on his body fat, but eventually, as the fly maggot grows until it occupies the entire body, from head to abdomen, it consumes the male’s other organs so he is is a shell that looks like  cricket but is pulsing inside with fly.

p. 18, Sex on Six Legs: Lessons on Life, Love, and Language from the Insect World. Marlene Zuk.
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Top Ten Inspirational Characters

This week the Broke and the Bookish want ten characters from fiction who’ve inspired us. I assumed they meant  from books when writing my list. And awaaaaaay we go. (Don’t take these too seriously: after a few entries I settled for ‘admirable characters I can remember.’)

1. Uhtred of Bebbanburg (Saxon Stories, Bernard Cornwell)

This is not Uhtred, but Brad Pitt’s Achilles character is similar in temperament.

Uhtred is a surely Viking who lives outside the law, sneers at convention, and tends to solve problems with his swords. Despite this, he’s not a bad fellow. Though he’s no innocent,  he is a wolf preying on other wolves — not  a wolf amid the sheep, like a king or a priest. I like his forthright bluntness. He makes no excuses for himself — but what I most like about Uhtred is that he enjoys life, with gusto. Whenever I read Uhtred’s stories, I feel like slamming down goblets of drink with enthusiasm, whacking strangers on the back in friendship, and singing old songs loudly and without a care in the world as to if they’re off-key or not.

2. Ebeneezer Scrooge (A Christmas Carol, Charles Dickens)


 I never knew how to swing a cane properly until I met ol’ Ebeneezer

He may be a crotechy old man, but when made to see the consequences of his actions, both for himself and for those around him,  Scrooge seeks to create his own redemption — and he does so even though those who knew him before mock him for it.

3. Harry Potter (Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling)

I know such a popular literary figure seems like an obvious choice, but (Azkaban spoilers!) when Harry decided to rise above easy vengeance and bring Peter Pettigrew to trial instead of letting Sirus and Remus feed him to Crookshanks, I was…impressed. Then, in Goblet of Fire, he goes out of his way to assist his rivals in the Second Task, because he believes without assistance,  Fleur’s sister and Hermione will be left to die. And then there’s the whole abandoning-oneself-to-death-to-defeat-the-dark-lord thing!

4. Sidney Carton (A Tale of Two Cities, Charles Dickens)

It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to, than I have ever known.”  Those words captivated me even when reading this book as a child (via Great Illustrated Classics). Carton epitomizes the heroic sacrifice to me.

…hey, I warned you.

5. Ducky (California Diaries, Ann M. Martin)

Ducky has shown up on one of these lists before, and that’s because he’s a great guy. He makes his introduction in the California Diaries series by coming to the rescue of three soaked, sicked, humiliated, and terrified freshmen who just escaped from a hazing trap. In the second book, he drives for several hours at night looking for a friend who has run away (one of the same girls), and later keeps a vigil outside of his friend Alex’s house, because Alex is depressed and suicidal.  So Ducky is serving as the big brother figure to a group of younger girls while at the same time trying to make sense of how he and his own childhood friends have grown apart. On top of all this, he’s doing it without a support system: his parents are research scientists working across the globe, his older brother is useless, and his best friend is the suicidal Alex mentioned prior.  But Ducky takes it all on his shoulders, and even when he is disheartened, manages to survive.

6. Sam Damon (Once an Eagle, Anton Myrer)

Sam joined the Army when the Great War started, not because he was bored or looking for glory, but because he thought it was the right thing to do. He survives and prospers in the Army not through wealth or family influence, by working hard,  learning all he can about the situation he’s in, making the best of every situation, and doing right by his men. From the trenches in Belgium to the jungles of Korea and Vietnam, that is Sam Damon:  he pursues the ‘right’ course of action and accepts the hard word simply because it’s the right thing to do and the work needs to be done. It’s a simple, and admirable, ethic.

7. Salvor Hardin (Foundation, Isaac Asimov)

Hardin appeared in two of Asimov’s foundation stories, and in both manages to save his city-planet Terminus from annexation and defeat at the hands of four great kingdoms through audacity and cleverness while uttering aphorisms like “Violence is the last refuge of the incompetent” and “It’s a poor blaster that doesn’t point both ways”.

8. Jake Berenson (Animorphs, K.A. Applegate)

The face of a battle-weary commando.
In middle school, I wasn’t asked to become the leader of a guerrilla force consisting of a group of six kids, waging a desperate war against a hidden alien invasion of parasites who take over people’s minds. Jake was, though, and boy — did he have a time of it. He endures years of constant bloody battle against hideous foes, years of living with the enemy (his brother is Controlled), years of knowing his decisions could kill his best friends and spell doom for Earth. The psychological stress seems incredible, but he doesn’t shrink with indecision or grow utterly callous. The experience hardens him far beyond his years, perhaps beyond that which is healthy, but his basic character endures.

9. Huck Finn (The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, Mark Twain)

It was a close place. I took it up, and held it in my hand. I was a trembling, because I’d got to decide, forever, betwixt two things, and I knowed it. I studied a minute, sort of holding my breath, and then says to myself:”All right, then, I’ll go to hell”- and tore it up.

For context, Huck has been faced with the choice of being a good Christian, which means following the law and returning his friend Jim to slavery, and doing what his natural empathy tells him. In deciding to keep hiding Jim, he choses to thwart the law and go to hell, instead of betraying his friend and damning his soul in a more real way. The irony of this is that I first heard the passage being read by an apologist  intent on mocking it, and I thought to myself — wow, I’ve gotta read this book.

10. Rudy Baylor (The Rainmaker, John Grisham)

Rudy Baylor was the first Grisham protagonist I ever read, and I found it easy to sympathize with the young man who took on an insurance company abusing its ‘clients’, refused to settle out of court rather than face their team of brilliant and experienced lawyers, and along the way rescued a friend from a case of domestic abuse.

Honorable mentions:

  • Ernest Everhard (The Iron Heel, Jack London)
  • Ellie Arroway (Contact, Carl Sagan)
  • Violet Baudelaire — “There’s always something.” (The Series of Unfortunate Events, Daniel Handle.)
  • Elias Vaughn (Warpath, David Mack)
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Redcoat

Redcoat
© 1998 Bernard Cornwell
485 pages

Shortly after the capture of Philadelphia in September 1777, General George Washington led his Continental army in battle against the now-defending British army. In the chaos of his opening assault,  brothers Sam and Nate Gilpin — both privates, and both wearing the red coat of the British army — were captured and ordered to tend to the American wounded, including an injured merchant-turned-patriot soldier named Jonathan Becket.  A sudden reversal offered both the chance to escape both the battle and a life’s service in the army — but Nate’s decision to make a run for it cost him his life.  Both armies retreated into winter quarters, where Sam continued nurse the American — now a prisoner himself — back to health at the behest of his sister, a strong-willed Patriot whose forthrightness and charm give her even Lord William Howe’s ear.  Throughout the long winter, while the American army languishes in Valley Forge,  Sam keeps the company of saucy rebel ladies, and makes unexpected friends and enemies alike — growing from a simple private to a troubled man torn by conviction.

Although this is a historical novel set in during the midst of the war, it is not a war story.  Most of the book takes place during the long winter of ’77-’78, and it is personal drama — character drama — that takes the field, as people struggle with loyalties to their countries, their ideals, their friends, and themselves. This surprised me, but pleasantly so. As usual, the novel is flecked with little historical and technical details that give the setting life, but it’s the characters who reign. Sam Gilpin is not unlike other main characters used by Cornwell —  strikingly decent, though not without his faults. Cornwell played an awful lot of tricks on me with the characters in this book — those who I started out liking, I grew to despise, and those I disliked at first I found myself utterly interested in. So help me, I never expected to be enthralled by a love triangle, but after reading a score or so pages in a matter of a week, something clicked and I read the better part of 300 pages in a single sitting. Romantic threads are only marginally existent in the books I read, but Cornwell’s worked for me. It’s not the war story I or others might’ve expected, but I certainly enjoyed it.

I checked this out because I could not find the Cornwell books I wanted to read, but what attracted me to this one — instead of Stonehenge, say — was the prospect of reading an ‘American’ story through the eyes of a British private. This was somewhat reflected by the favorable characterization of Lord William Howe, who seems an awfully kind gentleman to be wearing the coat of a military man, but Sam isn’t particularly passionate about the ‘Cause’. He’s in America to fight the rebellion because he’s a soldier and soldiers do as they’re told. His motivations mature rapidly through the winter, but Sam’s no idealist fighting to keep the Realm whole — or to campaign for Republicanism. The American characters tend to be preachy when they’re in Patriot mode, but they don’t hold a candle to the unpleasantness of the American loyalists, who are obsessed with money and are a downright ornery bunch. None of them seem to have any principles beyond getting rich and remaining so, which I think is unduly mean to the historical loyalists.

Not as much as a ‘British’ version of events as I’d hoped, but I truly enjoyed this story of a man growing to realize there are things worth standing up for, like love and friendship.

Related:

  • Jeff Shaara’s Rise to Rebellion and The Glorious Cause, which feature American generals complaining about the complete uselessness of the militia and British generals complaining that this is a stupid war to waste money, time, and soldiers’ lives on. (Er, if memory serves.)
  • The Complete Idiot’s Guide to British History, authored by a Britisher and which gave me some much-needed perspective regarding Britain’s treatment of the colonies. 
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2011 Nonfiction Reading Challenge

The Broke and the Bookish, home of Top Ten Tuesdays, is hosting a nonfiction reading challenge which is meant to expand horizons even for people who read nonfiction on a regular basis, like myself.  They’ve listed nine categories to read from, and a few of them are those I rarely go near.  I’ve never done a challenge before, and this sounds like fun.

Culture: “Non-fiction books about different cultures, religions and foreign lands; memoirs & biographies count.”
There are a couple of books on India and China I’m interested in reading this year, though I think they’re mostly history. In any case, I also intend to read something about Hinduism this year. Will Durant’s books are heavily cultural, too.

Art: “Non-fiction books about anything art related (painters, music, architecture, photography, dance, literature, film, etc.). Memoirs/biographies of any people related to the arts count.”
Well, if my library has a book on the history of architecture I’d be interested — and if not, there’s always that biography of Sammy Davis Jr. which I never finished. I also want to read a biography of Audrey Hepburn, because she’s adorable in every movie I’ve seen her in.

Food: “Food memoirs, anything related to food industry, food lifestyles.”
…I have no real idea.  Maybe Epicures will say something about food?  I’m going to be reading his works this year.

Medical: “anything related to the medical field–industry memoirs, memoirs about illnesses (mental included) /diseases, etc.”
Hm.  I will have to poke around. I rarely venture into my library’s medical section, because it has books on homeopathy and by Keven Trudeau, and those just make me sink to the floor weeping.  This attracts attention and diminishes the productiveness of my library visits.

Travel: “travelogues, industry memoirs, travel guides, etc.”
This should be rather easy:  I still have the second Walking Across America book waiting for me.

Memoir/Biography: “Self explanatory “
Should be easy enough. I’m planning on reading D-Day parachutist Dick Winters’ memoirs, as he recently passed away.  I’m also interested in reading a big ol’  biography of Franklin Roosevelt.

Money: “Anything related to finances, economics, history of money, financial improvement etc.”
– Last year I intended to read The World is Flat, a book on globalization, but didn’t get around to it. This challenge will provide such an opportunity.

Science/Nature: “Anything related to any scientific field, memoirs count.”
Sex on Six Legs, which won’t be released until late this year — but I have an advanced review copy.  Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors by Carl Sagan, which I haven’t read since 2006, is a likely contender. And to those challenge-folk reading, Carl Sagan was famous for working to popularize science. He’s written quite a few books in addition to hosting Cosmos. (Link is to “A Glorious Dawn”, which is..Cosmos in concentrate.)

History: “Anything history related– events, biographies of historic figures, etc.”
– Heh. History is my bread and butter, so to speak, so this one will be easy. The Age of Faith by Will Durant, and The Near East by Isaac Asimov are two reads I already have in mind. (You know, I really should get around to reading The Age of Faith so I don’t keep mentioning it in Broke-and-the-Bookish-related posts. It’s appeared on three or four lists now…)

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To End All Wars

To End All Wars: A Story of Loyalty and Rebellion, 1914-1918
© 2011 Adam Hochschild
480 pages

Disclaimer:   I read from an advanced review copy of the book, available through NetGalleys. No compensation for a review, good or negative, was offered or requested, aside from my own potential enjoyment of the book.

Though American history books tend to portray the Great War as merely the prologue of World War 2,  its momentous horror and long-reaching effects deserve more recognition. The war shattered the late 19th century’s dreams of an optimistic future — that with reason enthroned and science driving society, humanity would march ever courageously into a progressive future toward paradise.  That great vision vanished when national pride flared and the being known as Modern Man turned into a screaming chimpanzee with a machine-gun, perverting the material and intellectual accomplishments of humanity for the cause of destruction —  hell-bent on the brutal evisceration of its enemies and too drunken with anger, grief, and war-lust to stop the bloodshed.  To End All Wars delivers the full scope of the horror and makes it personal, but offers the reader inspiration and hope in the midst of lunacy by partially focusing on the lives of those who stood against the great madness.

To End all Wars consists of two intertwined narratives: the first is a general history of the great war, which is surprisingly detailed.  In spite of the book’s brevity, Hochschild managed to convey not only the essential course of the war (generally focusing on the Western Front), but an astonishing amount of pertinent details and background information — like the peculiarities and horrors of trench warfare and the requirements of this, the first great industrial conflict that demanded 70% of a nation’s active resources to maintain. Hochschild’s narrative makes the inhumane conditions , chronic and massive destruction of life, and utter pointlessness more obvious than any other Great War book I’ve read save soldiers’ memoirs.  The effect is all the more poignant to the reader because those who perish are not nameless: they are the loved ones of people we know personally.

The other entwined half of To End All Wars is a personal history of Britain in the last decades of the 19th century and during the Great War. Hochschild introduces a handful of individuals from varied classes and backgrounds who will each play their separate roles in the war to come. Some, like the miner-turned-politician Keir Hardy, will resist the war and be literally heartbroken by its initial popularity. Others, like Sir John French, will devote themselves to the Glory of the Realm and fight on come hell, high water, or Bolshevik revolution.  This portion begins with Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee and chronicles the battle for expanded voting rights and social justice. Suffragettes are particularly visible, and the story of their fight astonished and delighted me.  How can a reader resist the charm of women who back furniture trucks into Paraliment’s doors and deploy a dozen or so suffragists to storm inside and shout “VOTES FOR WOMEN!”, joined by comrades rappelling through the ceiling skylights? This is the kind of lively drama that conventional history texts miss completely.

Among the ranks of these lives — through whom we witness the expansion of empire and the full horror of war — are heroes and villains, champions of the human spirit and aristocrats consumed by wealth and vanity. Few of them, however, are predictable. Charlotte Despard, one of the more heroic figures in the text, was as ardent a populist champion as Eugene Debs — but her brother was Sir John French.  Emmeline Pankhurst starts the book out as a socialist suffragette who attempts to blow up the prime minister’s home with him in it — but once the war starts, she becomes said minister’s staunch ally and denounces any and all who question her.  The effects the war had on personal relationships is fascinating:  Emmeline and the minister, once enemies, became allies — and Emmeline and two of her pacifist daughters, once comrades-in-arms, became strangers to one another. Other notable figures include Bertrand Russell and Rudyard Kipling, two literary-intellectual figures whose stances were in opposition. While Kipling produces poetry, stories, and essays praising war and the Honor of the Nation and denouncing Germans as subhuman, persistent enemies of civilization, Russell stands sadly in the rain and watches his countrymen cheer the deaths of human beings simply because their last names are different.  (He’s later thrown into jail for opposing the war.)

To End All Wars is an exceptional read. Its narrative of the war, slightly marred by an American bias toward the Allies, would  function well as a general introduction to the war, but the personal accounts make the book golden. The stories of those  who stand against ‘man’s blind indifference to his fellow man’, who oppose the inhumanity of their government’s actions, are inspirational enough, but their treatment at the hands of their fellow citizens serves to remind readers of other, more subtle costs of war — moral corruption.  Though Woodrow Wilson disingenuously referred to the war as a defense of democracy,  there’s little democracy to be seen in the actions of Britain’s government. Those who do not enthusiastically support the war and the government are spied on,  denounced, stoned, imprisoned, vilified by the press, and lined up to be shot. Though this is a story of the Great War, the ‘war to end all wars’,  its most important story is that of the pacifists, the socialists, the principled Christians, and the internationalist intellectuals who saw the war as futile, pointless, and the only true enemy of any nation.  While scenes of the destruction and death were emotionally difficult to read, the lives of those few provided a ray of hope, and their vindication at war’s end finishes the book on a somber, somewhat relieved note.

To End All Wars will be available commercially on 3 May 2011, from Houghton Mifflin Harcourt.

Related:

  • The Vertigo Years: Europe, 1900-1914, Phillip Blom
  • A People’s History of the 20th Century, Howard Zinn
  • The Great War in Modern Memory, Paul Fussell
  • All Quiet on the Western Front, Erich Maria Remarque

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