Wednesday, 23 September 2015

Beware the backwaters

When I sat finals, my modest hopes for the seventeenth century were dashed when my banker question, on the Thirty Years War, the great conflagration primarily fought between the Habsburgs, Dutch, French and Swedish, turned out to be about Bavaria. I didn't know very much about Seventeenth century Bavaria. I still don't know very much about seventeenth century Bavaria (though I do think someone should write a parallel biography of Maximilian II and Prince Eugene of Savoy). I'm still not convinced it was a legitimate question. Bavaria was a unit of real weight, as it is now, but it was a backwater. Nothing important happened in Bavaria in this period - they were just a useful source of senior catholic marriages - almost Kings of Spain, but only almost. 

Backwaters occasionally become important. I read last month Bulgakov's novel, the White Guard, set in the aftermath of the Great War in Ukraine. I know even less about this than I do about Bavaria. It turns out the Ukrainian theatre was important in the Russian civil war of the early twentieth century. I note also that any resolution then was only temporary. I feel we're watching a later act play out out right now. If we all knew more about Ukrainian history, we'd be able to speak more intelligently about the crisis.

I revel in these byways. Under no circumstances can the later Byzantine Empire be described as central to the flow of history. The depth and texture of history relies on specialists getting to grips with alien, obscure periods and people and the temptation of these oddities and alien places is vast. Norman Davies wrote a lovely book about them (NB. Not all of these are actually backwaters). Any half decent library will show the deviations it owner has taken. For example, I have more books on the county of Foix and the Languedoc than I do on the USA (a low bar), while my 'Germany' section is almost entirely books on the Habsburgs (including, because of my technical definition of 'Germany,' Hungary). It is easy to build up a historical view that is entirely covered with beautiful, fascinating, vignettes, often of obscure, sleepy or forgotten places (I did buy a book about Liechtenstein the other day).

It would be easy, enchanting. And wrong. These are all still backwaters, wonderful backwaters, but but backwaters nonetheless. We forget the main trunk roads of history at our peril. This is exactly the trap that curricula fall into when they lose sense of chronology (hence the thrust of Michael Gove's somewhat imperfect reforms to ours). They are the ornaments, not the branches. Now, I think everyone should read about both, but if you only read one, read about the important thing. Then read about the obscure, possibly for longer, but never first.

Wednesday, 9 September 2015

Bibliography, August 2015

BOTM: J.B. Priestley, English Journey

A. Bennett, Smut
E.M. Brent Dyer, The Head Girl of the Chalet School
M. Bulgakov, The White Guard
P. Delerm, The small pleasures of life
W.S. Maugham, The Magician 
C. Mieville, Embassytown 
S.S. Tepper, Beauty 
R. Zelazny, The Guns of Avalon*
R. Zelazny, Sign of the Unicorn*
R. Zelazny, The Hand of Oberon*
R. Zelazny, The Courts of Chaos*
R. Zelazny, Trumps of Doom
R. Zelazny, Blood of Amber
R. Zelazny, Sign of Chaos
R. Zelazny, Knight of Shadows 
R. Zelazny, Prince of Chaos

A post - baby reading record. Heavily inflated by reading Books 2-10 of the Chronicles of Amber (note: they are all very short). They weren't exceptional. In fact, even the classic first quintet compared unfavourably to others in its genre this month. Tepper was enormously inventive and original - as she reliably is. And I thought the Mieville was too. 

However, they were all as pygmies beside Priestley. English Journey is a well known classic, and it deserves to be. It's well observed, with exceptional turns of phrase - I have a forest of bookmarks to dig out for quotations - but it's much more than that. It's intended as a survey of England in the 1930s, which of course it is, but, unlike Orwell's register of poverty that it inspired, it is rooted in the longer term evolution of England and English society. It also contains rather delightfully robust asides from the author on the state of the nation; and on generally held views on the state of the nation. Some of those aren't quite right, but they have a lot less wrong with them than Orwell's (and they take up less space); many are spot on, and a pleasure to read. It's scope makes it still highly relevant today: in a period where we are spending our time questioning the Union and the nation, I would suggest we could all do well to read books like this. Instead, outrageously, it is out of print. Hunt it down.

Monday, 3 August 2015

Bibliography, July 2015

BOTM: Ford, F.M., No More Parades 

Bryson, B., 1927
Bryson, B., Shakespeare
Ford, F.M., Some Do Not ... 
Ford, F.M., A Man Could Stand Up 
Ford, F.M., The Last Post 
Maugham, W. S. The Moon and Sixpence 
Maugham, W. S. The Razor's edge 
Wrangham, R., Catching Fire: how cooking makes us human
Zelazny, R., Nine princes in Amber

It turns out Parade's End isn't about the war at all (well, maybe a bit), it's really about being a Tory. As a result, I enjoyed a lot more than I imagined I would. I even came to like what we might describe as its 'distinctive' style. And the themes are in fact eternal, not limited to the war at all. I'm not sure there's much science behind which volume I've chosen here as a favourite because obviously they only work when taken together. However, this was the most immediate, uncertain and opaque (deliberately) and all the better for it.

Monday, 20 July 2015

Just not cricket

After yesterday, I am longer mentioning international cricket. Unfortunately, because I've been talking about cricket for some weeks, my elder son is now fascinated. He took not coming to Lord's with a good grace (thankfully. He's far too young to be useful and be sent to get the drinks). Instead, I said I'd take him to the Oval to watch Surrey another weekend. This has three major advantages: it's cheap, down the road, and there's a chance they might actually win. I discover today it has one overwhelming disadvantage: there aren't any matches. Not one.

Preposterously, in the week that schools break up, there are now no more weekend fixtures at the Oval - for the entire rest of the year (her's the schedule). In fact, Surrey played on only one weekend day throughout all July (in Leicester). They play most weekends in August, but only one is at home (and that's in Guildford). They don't play a single weekend in September unless they reach a final or two. None of these games are at the Oval. These things aren't relevant to me yet, but that means there is not a single weekend game for the entire school holidays, even if you're working off private education holidays. In the spirit of even-handedness, the early part of the summer was better, but I am unimpressed. 

I know no-one watches county cricket, but I feel they could try a bit harder.

Monday, 6 July 2015

Bibliography, June 2015

BOTM: M. Pollan, Cooked

B. Cunliffe, Facing the Ocean
C. Mieville, The city and the city
M. Robinson, Lila
W. Miller, A Canticle for Leibowitz
E. Zola, Germinal
A. Zamoyski, Poland

It's a sad reflection of living with children, that despite being on holiday for much of June, I still only managed a paltry seven books, albeit a number were long and excellent. Mieville and Zola exceptionally so. As an aside, this means I may attempt the whole Rougon - Macquart sequence. The best of all though was Michael Pollan's book about cooking (and baking and brewing). I was concerned in the first few pages that he may be a too Californian for me, but though there were moments, they were few and mild. Instead, his book manages simultaneously to be both a fascinating discursive ramble through the cooking approaches he explored and a practical call to action to specific cooking techniques. As a result, in my spare time between reading nineteenth century French novels, I am going to bake bread.

Tuesday, 2 June 2015

Bibliography, May 2015

BOTM: M. Robinson, Gilead

J. Braine, Room at the top
J. Crace, Being dead
E. Crispin, Buried for pleasure
U. Eco, The Prague Cemetery
B. Greene, Liechtenstein: Valley of Peace
A. Huxley, Island
H. Macdonald, H is for hawk
M. Robinson, Home

Gilead - perfect; everything else (and several were outstanding) - not Gilead.

Tuesday, 5 May 2015

Bibliography, April 2015

BOTM: P. Lively, Moon tiger

J. Barnes, A pedant in the kitchen*
A. Bennett, Clayhanger
W. Golding, Rites of passage
P.H. Newby, Something to answer for


Astute observers will notice that I am filling in the missing Booker winners I've not yet read. I'm getting very close to being able to produce a definitive ranking.  Astute observers will also note that I haven't actually managed to do much reading, but there is much to remark about on these. What I'm most struck by is the fragility of literary reputation. Newby and Bennett are obscure now, yet neither deserve to be - Bennett is particularly marvellous. I'd also comment on the loss of Egypt as a setting in modern fiction. From the 1950s onwards, Egypt crops up again and again. I'm thinking here of Durrell, Olivia Manning, Waugh et cetera - most of course about the war. Lively's, with The English patient five years' later, is really the last hurrah (I am happy to be corrected on this). It's all India now and that's a shame. Anyway, Moon tiger was great. Elegantly written and deeply affecting. Go find it. It's quite short and well worth it.