Read: 10
BOTM: M. Bowden, The Best Game ever: Giants vs. Colts, 1958, and the Birth of the Modern NFL
M. Bradbury, The History Man
M. Bulgakov, Master and Margarita*
J. le Carre, Tinker, Tailor, Soldier Spy
G. Dexter, Why not Catch 21?
C. Dickens, Bleak House
A. Huxley, Crome Yellow
J. Morris, Hong Kong
D.L. Sayers, The Nine tailors
P.G. Wodehouse, Carry on, Jeeves
This month's BOTM is not the best book on the list. I'm not sure it's even second. There are at least three classics on this list (four if you include Dickens, but I've never gotten on with him and this was no exception). Bowden's account of breakthrough game of American football, that launched the sport onto the American public is neither as well written nor as famous. But it's the book I enjoyed the most. Partly because it was different, but it was also fascinating, both about American Football and especially about how it emerged from relative obscurity to become massive. And it was a great story.
Thursday, 1 December 2011
Monday, 14 November 2011
Bibliography, October 2011
Read: 9
BOTM: S. Graubard, The Presidents
Anon (ed. J. Wilkinson), Egeria's travels
J. Barnes, A History of the World in 10 1/2 chapters
M. Dobbs, To Play the King
G.M. Fraser, Flashman at the Charge
Optatus, Against the Donatists
O. Pamuk, The Museum of Innocence
H. Sachs, The Ninth: Beethoven and the World in 1824
P.G. Wodehouse, The Inimitable Jeeves
This is late, and I don't have much to say about it, as it and much of the next month's reading was derailed by Bleak House, which I've only just finished. Anyway, nothing was standout brilliant, and some were weaker than I expected (the passing of time has not been kind to Mr Dobbs' political thrillers). The most interesting, though I hesitate to say best as my knowledge is low, was a monumental book on twentieth century presidents which nicely filled some material gaps in my knowledge. I can see how it could be genuinely interesting to study as a period, but why would you study it, when you could do medieval heresy instead is slightly beyond me - the detail of and convention machinations and electoral college politics aside of course. That's almost as interesting as the ancient world; in fact sometimes it even looks like it (someone's probably done that book).
BOTM: S. Graubard, The Presidents
Anon (ed. J. Wilkinson), Egeria's travels
J. Barnes, A History of the World in 10 1/2 chapters
M. Dobbs, To Play the King
G.M. Fraser, Flashman at the Charge
Optatus, Against the Donatists
O. Pamuk, The Museum of Innocence
H. Sachs, The Ninth: Beethoven and the World in 1824
P.G. Wodehouse, The Inimitable Jeeves
This is late, and I don't have much to say about it, as it and much of the next month's reading was derailed by Bleak House, which I've only just finished. Anyway, nothing was standout brilliant, and some were weaker than I expected (the passing of time has not been kind to Mr Dobbs' political thrillers). The most interesting, though I hesitate to say best as my knowledge is low, was a monumental book on twentieth century presidents which nicely filled some material gaps in my knowledge. I can see how it could be genuinely interesting to study as a period, but why would you study it, when you could do medieval heresy instead is slightly beyond me - the detail of and convention machinations and electoral college politics aside of course. That's almost as interesting as the ancient world; in fact sometimes it even looks like it (someone's probably done that book).
Monday, 31 October 2011
What do we want? Er...
I popped over to St Paul's yesterday, on the way back from actual church. I thought I'd go see the protests before I passed judgement. It's rather better than I thought: there is no aggravation, it's quite tidy (with refuse separation that would make any council glad), it doesn't really affect the church at all - more on that in another post - and everyone seems very good natured. They have put up a lot of posters, but it's impossible to be angry with them. It's like a picturesque cross between a student protest* and a festival, with a few crusty hippies and a lot of nice youths taking things very seriously indeed. Many of them have beards, which every ex-student knows is a sign that you are very serious about politics (this only works on the left).
Not that I am any clearer about what they want. For the last week, I've been asking that question of those who might be in sympathy with them and they don't know. I'm thinking of adding it to my list of fun games to play to bait the left (current favourite: which of BP, BA and BT should the government own? Hint: till 1997, the Labour party thought the answer was all three). Going there doesn't help either. Their posters are the usual ragbag of radical socialism, anti-capitalist hoo ha, along with an amusing placard against usury.
'Helpfully,' they've posted their statement up online. It's not entirely clear this is a good idea for them. Of the nine points, three aren't debatable or are meaningless (2,5,8) and four are just poorly thought through left of centre posturing (3,4,6,7) - I don't believe for a second that they have thought through global justice and equality issues. However, it's the remaining two points that are most irritating.
It's because they think that they have arrived at some profound critique of the system: 'this is what democracy looks like. Come and join us!.' This strikes me as a depressing and deep failure to understand the world and a childish refusal to accept that it's more complicated than they think. This approach is widespread and I would categorise the Tory rebellion on Europe in exactly the same way. In this case though, it's why they can't put forward a coherent position forward - they simply haven't done the work, and they're not equipped to. They have diagnosed that something has gone wrong, and they think that having a lot of meetings will help. It won't.
Not that I am any clearer about what they want. For the last week, I've been asking that question of those who might be in sympathy with them and they don't know. I'm thinking of adding it to my list of fun games to play to bait the left (current favourite: which of BP, BA and BT should the government own? Hint: till 1997, the Labour party thought the answer was all three). Going there doesn't help either. Their posters are the usual ragbag of radical socialism, anti-capitalist hoo ha, along with an amusing placard against usury.
'Helpfully,' they've posted their statement up online. It's not entirely clear this is a good idea for them. Of the nine points, three aren't debatable or are meaningless (2,5,8) and four are just poorly thought through left of centre posturing (3,4,6,7) - I don't believe for a second that they have thought through global justice and equality issues. However, it's the remaining two points that are most irritating.
It's because they think that they have arrived at some profound critique of the system: 'this is what democracy looks like. Come and join us!.' This strikes me as a depressing and deep failure to understand the world and a childish refusal to accept that it's more complicated than they think. This approach is widespread and I would categorise the Tory rebellion on Europe in exactly the same way. In this case though, it's why they can't put forward a coherent position forward - they simply haven't done the work, and they're not equipped to. They have diagnosed that something has gone wrong, and they think that having a lot of meetings will help. It won't.
By itself, this wouldn't be an issue. They're not important, real politics gets done elsewhere. But it adds to a public debate that will not consider trade-offs, only propositions, and that's a disaster. Take the banks for example, the line that we should not pay for bank's losses is seductive, but obviously nonsense. There's an oddity anyway about taking tax from bankers to pay for the state and then declaring you want nothing to do with them. In making this argument, the protests ironically are making the same antisocial transactional calculation they would accuse the bankers of. However, the obvious real issue is that that's the wrong question; the right one is to ask what would be the best way to minimise pain for everyone, given we are in this situation. Governments can stop the bankers making money, but will it help? In this case therefore we are really debating between flavours of how best to regulate the financial system. That's not very seductive, but it's very important, and it's hard. We aren't going to navigate that or any other problem by sitting in tents and having daily discussions without decisions. Such an approach is at best self-indulgent, and at worst outright dangerous. It doesn't matter that I can't point to specific demands coming out of the St Paul's camp, it does that people in general don't seen have any, because it means they can't discriminate between options in anyway. To govern is to choose, not to express your dislike about things.
So, I hope they enjoy their protest; and I really hope no-one listens.
So, I hope they enjoy their protest; and I really hope no-one listens.
*As an aside, my favourite student protest story ever is when Oxford's left occupied some university buildings, and about an hour before they were evicted, the leadership told all the lawyers to leave as it might affect their careers if legal proceedings were taken against. And they all left. I wonder if the same spirit pervades the St Paul's protest.
Monday, 3 October 2011
BIbliography, September 2011
Read: 11
BOTM: E. Ladurie, Montaillou
C. Bourret, Un Royaume transpyreneean? La tentative de la Maison Foix-Bearn-Albret
E. Brockes, What would Babra do?
M. Dobbs, House of Cards
W. Fotheringham, The passion of Fausto Coppi
E. Ladurie, Histoire du Languedoc
H. Mount, A lust for windowsills
E. Waugh, Brideshead revisited
P.G. Wodehouse, Something fresh
P.G. Wodehouse, Leave it to Psmith
[the name isn't important, what is is that it was in comic book format], Henri IV
Something of an inevitability in the BOTM this time. Ladurie's Montaillou is a classic of medieval history, concerned with the complex networks of individual relationships in a heretical town - what is not to like? It's a pioneering work that really uses the almost unique source material to really reconstruct a fascinating account of medieval life in Occitania. I wish I had read it as a undergraduate, and everybody should. If ever there was an antidote to 'olden days' thinking, this is it. It's not perfect, and could have been a bit shorter, perhaps with some diagrammatic representations of the relationships in the village, but otherwise ace.
Elsewhere, don't read Harry Mount's book on architecture - it's patronising and annoying, and reads it a bit like he's typed up the notes from his Masters in the subject, and added some silly conversational asides. On reflection, one suspects that is exactly what he has done. Lazy.
BOTM: E. Ladurie, Montaillou
C. Bourret, Un Royaume transpyreneean? La tentative de la Maison Foix-Bearn-Albret
E. Brockes, What would Babra do?
M. Dobbs, House of Cards
W. Fotheringham, The passion of Fausto Coppi
E. Ladurie, Histoire du Languedoc
H. Mount, A lust for windowsills
E. Waugh, Brideshead revisited
P.G. Wodehouse, Something fresh
P.G. Wodehouse, Leave it to Psmith
[the name isn't important, what is is that it was in comic book format], Henri IV
Something of an inevitability in the BOTM this time. Ladurie's Montaillou is a classic of medieval history, concerned with the complex networks of individual relationships in a heretical town - what is not to like? It's a pioneering work that really uses the almost unique source material to really reconstruct a fascinating account of medieval life in Occitania. I wish I had read it as a undergraduate, and everybody should. If ever there was an antidote to 'olden days' thinking, this is it. It's not perfect, and could have been a bit shorter, perhaps with some diagrammatic representations of the relationships in the village, but otherwise ace.
Elsewhere, don't read Harry Mount's book on architecture - it's patronising and annoying, and reads it a bit like he's typed up the notes from his Masters in the subject, and added some silly conversational asides. On reflection, one suspects that is exactly what he has done. Lazy.
Sunday, 18 September 2011
Anarchy, State and Utopia
On holiday the other week, the scientist I was with mentioned in passing the essential importance of science in civilisation. He didn't exactly say it was the greatest of all human endeavours, but he meant to. And he's got a point - as he put it (I'm paraphrasing) without science and engineering we wouldn't be able to do anything - in this case, build the nice cathedrals. Now, this kind of argument is overblown, and reductionist (try doing anything without language), but the point is a good one.
And I was still thinking about the most important of human endeavours when I read this article. It's not a very good article, attributing here to capitalism what my friend was keen to do to science, namely a wide ranging power independent of other important aspects of human life. However, it did make me think about another of the great human endeavours - Government, or rather the state.
The state gets a bad press a lot of the time, especially from the right, though even the modern left can be a little grudging in its praise. Rhetoric of the last few decades has been about how to modernise or roll it back. This language is unhelpful, and inaccurate. Apart from a few extremists, most of the right don't even want to roll back the state. They think they do, but actually they just want to change its shape. While the shorthand is convenient, it's not accurate - the right of the state to engage in an area tends not to be disputed, merely it's efficacy. And the objectors tend to forget that they want the state to guarantee all the freedoms they want. For example, a libertarian may claim they want the state to refrain from criminalising drug taking, but actually they want it to do that and to stop other people from interfering too: it's simplistic and wrong to simply talk about rolling things back. In this case we're debating how it acts with regards to drugs, not whether it can or should.
Because the state is amazing. The modern state is an extraordinary feat of complexity that has incomparably improved the lot of humanity, against anything that has gone before (note: it's also capable of being the most powerful agent of death as well - a testament to its power). However, it's the principle that I'd like to concentrate on.* The development of the state has a real claim to be the bedrock of human achievement. Without it, there can be no real co-ordination of human activity, no mechanism to secure anything and build upon it, no mechanism to either create wealth or redistribute it. For that, we should be grateful. Hobbes put it best: without a state (or as he put it, in the state of nature), the lot of man is solitary, poor, nasty, brutish and short.
Precisely because it is so important, one must take the government to task for policy failures or rank incompetence, and we have to alert to structural failures - which I think it where we are now. As the current phase of the economic crisis unfolds, there's a lot of chat about whether we have transposed a banking crisis into a sovereign debt crisis. There's obviously truth in that, but I don't think the maths add up. America, the Eurozone and even the UK can pay their debts, though it will hurt. Yet both the US and Europe seem to lack the political machinery to make that happen. Civilisation isn't going to end, but it's going to be worse (a lot worse than it needs to be) because of ignorant populism in the states and Germany, and a misguided mis-match of political and economic union across Europe. The politics and the failure of the political dialogue poses a greater threat to the outcome than the raw economics.
I'd normally make a point here about the need to limit the role of the people in any constitutional settlement, but I'll save that for later. Really, the point is that governing is hard, but failure of government is far far worse. Nozick's classic and complex book is now famous for preaching close to the reverse, but ironically, I can use his title to points in the right way . I don't think we can get to utopia (remember: no place), I'm much too much of a Hobbesian Conservative pessimist for that, but it's a lot closer to the state than it is to its absence. We should be arguing about the nature of what the state does, but we should be very grateful for what we have, and terrified of the prospect of its failure.
* There is certainly a long anthropological literature here about definition which I will have glossed over / go wrong . I don't care: the principle stands
The state gets a bad press a lot of the time, especially from the right, though even the modern left can be a little grudging in its praise. Rhetoric of the last few decades has been about how to modernise or roll it back. This language is unhelpful, and inaccurate. Apart from a few extremists, most of the right don't even want to roll back the state. They think they do, but actually they just want to change its shape. While the shorthand is convenient, it's not accurate - the right of the state to engage in an area tends not to be disputed, merely it's efficacy. And the objectors tend to forget that they want the state to guarantee all the freedoms they want. For example, a libertarian may claim they want the state to refrain from criminalising drug taking, but actually they want it to do that and to stop other people from interfering too: it's simplistic and wrong to simply talk about rolling things back. In this case we're debating how it acts with regards to drugs, not whether it can or should.
Because the state is amazing. The modern state is an extraordinary feat of complexity that has incomparably improved the lot of humanity, against anything that has gone before (note: it's also capable of being the most powerful agent of death as well - a testament to its power). However, it's the principle that I'd like to concentrate on.* The development of the state has a real claim to be the bedrock of human achievement. Without it, there can be no real co-ordination of human activity, no mechanism to secure anything and build upon it, no mechanism to either create wealth or redistribute it. For that, we should be grateful. Hobbes put it best: without a state (or as he put it, in the state of nature), the lot of man is solitary, poor, nasty, brutish and short.
Precisely because it is so important, one must take the government to task for policy failures or rank incompetence, and we have to alert to structural failures - which I think it where we are now. As the current phase of the economic crisis unfolds, there's a lot of chat about whether we have transposed a banking crisis into a sovereign debt crisis. There's obviously truth in that, but I don't think the maths add up. America, the Eurozone and even the UK can pay their debts, though it will hurt. Yet both the US and Europe seem to lack the political machinery to make that happen. Civilisation isn't going to end, but it's going to be worse (a lot worse than it needs to be) because of ignorant populism in the states and Germany, and a misguided mis-match of political and economic union across Europe. The politics and the failure of the political dialogue poses a greater threat to the outcome than the raw economics.
I'd normally make a point here about the need to limit the role of the people in any constitutional settlement, but I'll save that for later. Really, the point is that governing is hard, but failure of government is far far worse. Nozick's classic and complex book is now famous for preaching close to the reverse, but ironically, I can use his title to points in the right way . I don't think we can get to utopia (remember: no place), I'm much too much of a Hobbesian Conservative pessimist for that, but it's a lot closer to the state than it is to its absence. We should be arguing about the nature of what the state does, but we should be very grateful for what we have, and terrified of the prospect of its failure.
* There is certainly a long anthropological literature here about definition which I will have glossed over / go wrong . I don't care: the principle stands
Thursday, 1 September 2011
Bibliography, August 2011
Read: 7
BOTM: T. Snyder, The Reconstruction of Nations Poland, Ukraine, Lithuania, Belarus 1569 - 1999
J. Gleick, The Information
P. Leigh Fermor, The Traveller's Tree
A. Mickiewicz, Pan Tadeusz
S. Nicholls, Bodyguard of Lightening
S. Nicholls, Legion of Thunder
S. Nicholls, Warriors of the tempest
I went to Lithuania at the start of the month, and so read some Lithuanian (maybe Polish really) books. Now, I don't know very much about Lithuanian (or Polish) history, so I cannot comment on the relative standing of Snyder's book, but it was a belter. Engrossing, well told and well constructed, it was one of the most gripping and illuminating books I have read for a long time. Everybody should read it. His conclusions on the impact (ultimately, horribly, almost positive) of Soviet ethnic cleansing and the counter-cultural restraint of Polish leaders in 1990 is astounding, and in some cases uplifting (though coming out of some fairly bleak reading). While his presentation of the role of the medieval in determining the national myth and policy of the post--Soviet states is persuasive, and a warning to those who think that none of this matters any more. It's also really shows why the Lithuanians don't like the Poles, though they have the same national epic.
BOTM: T. Snyder, The Reconstruction of Nations Poland, Ukraine, Lithuania, Belarus 1569 - 1999
J. Gleick, The Information
P. Leigh Fermor, The Traveller's Tree
A. Mickiewicz, Pan Tadeusz
S. Nicholls, Bodyguard of Lightening
S. Nicholls, Legion of Thunder
S. Nicholls, Warriors of the tempest
I went to Lithuania at the start of the month, and so read some Lithuanian (maybe Polish really) books. Now, I don't know very much about Lithuanian (or Polish) history, so I cannot comment on the relative standing of Snyder's book, but it was a belter. Engrossing, well told and well constructed, it was one of the most gripping and illuminating books I have read for a long time. Everybody should read it. His conclusions on the impact (ultimately, horribly, almost positive) of Soviet ethnic cleansing and the counter-cultural restraint of Polish leaders in 1990 is astounding, and in some cases uplifting (though coming out of some fairly bleak reading). While his presentation of the role of the medieval in determining the national myth and policy of the post--Soviet states is persuasive, and a warning to those who think that none of this matters any more. It's also really shows why the Lithuanians don't like the Poles, though they have the same national epic.
Monday, 1 August 2011
Bibliography, July 2011
Read (12)
BOTM: K. Fox, Watching the English
B. Bryson, At Home
A. Christie, Murder on the Links
J. Galsworthy, A man of property
J. Galsworthy, In Chancery
J. Galsworthy, To Let
Y. Kemal, Memed, my hawk
P. Leigh Fermor and D. Devonshire, In tearing haste
N. Lewis, Voices of the Old Sea
J. Morris, Oxford
N. Slater, Toast
R. Wilkinson and K. Pickett, The Spirit Level
The Spirit Level first. It is a very bad book. It is full of tendentious overclaiming and distorted methdology (not all best fit lines have to be linear for example); it writes repetitively and in that 'gosh, how astonishing' style that has served Malcolm Gladwell so well, but worse. It's ahistorical and culturally blind and its murder statistics will have taken a bit of a battering in Norway this month, undermining some of it's claims. But, it may be right - that inequality has risen to a level unseen for generations, and that is harmful. What can be done is less clear, nor how we should go about it. The Japanese example is illuminating for the confiscatory taxation principles. Food for thought.
A much better book, in which the Japanese also feature heavily (though in this case due to their similiarity to the English) is Fox's. It's engrossing and very recognisable, though inevitably I spent my time trying to work if I fell into cultural norms for upper middle or middle middle class.* But it does throw quite a bit of light on how we work and what we do unconsciously. While the headlines are generic, it's the precision and detail that really marks this out, it's also a great read. Fascinating.
* Except for the wearing of shorts. Apparently, only working class men wear those in their home town. I beg to differ.
BOTM: K. Fox, Watching the English
B. Bryson, At Home
A. Christie, Murder on the Links
J. Galsworthy, A man of property
J. Galsworthy, In Chancery
J. Galsworthy, To Let
Y. Kemal, Memed, my hawk
P. Leigh Fermor and D. Devonshire, In tearing haste
N. Lewis, Voices of the Old Sea
J. Morris, Oxford
N. Slater, Toast
R. Wilkinson and K. Pickett, The Spirit Level
The Spirit Level first. It is a very bad book. It is full of tendentious overclaiming and distorted methdology (not all best fit lines have to be linear for example); it writes repetitively and in that 'gosh, how astonishing' style that has served Malcolm Gladwell so well, but worse. It's ahistorical and culturally blind and its murder statistics will have taken a bit of a battering in Norway this month, undermining some of it's claims. But, it may be right - that inequality has risen to a level unseen for generations, and that is harmful. What can be done is less clear, nor how we should go about it. The Japanese example is illuminating for the confiscatory taxation principles. Food for thought.
A much better book, in which the Japanese also feature heavily (though in this case due to their similiarity to the English) is Fox's. It's engrossing and very recognisable, though inevitably I spent my time trying to work if I fell into cultural norms for upper middle or middle middle class.* But it does throw quite a bit of light on how we work and what we do unconsciously. While the headlines are generic, it's the precision and detail that really marks this out, it's also a great read. Fascinating.
* Except for the wearing of shorts. Apparently, only working class men wear those in their home town. I beg to differ.
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