Started #reading: Europe: A History, by Norman Davies.
This year’s “honking big book” for the summer holidays. Started it a little early to make sure it fits the bill: only 15 pages in, and it’s brilliant. See you in 1,200 pages!
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Finished #reading: Europe: A History, by Norman Davies.
A triumph. A vast, sprawling, superbly written account of Europe from prehistoric times through to the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991. The book is given additional richness by the inclusion, alongside the main narrative, of almost 300 “capsules” (short mini-essays on specific topics, cross-referenced from the main text) and a 120 page “historical compendium” of supplementary maps, charts and tables.
One of Davies’ aims is to redress the occidental bias in histories of Europe, by giving greater emphasis to central and eastern Europe. One means by which he does this is by turning Europe on its side for the main maps for each chapter. Here, for example, are the map showing Europe in c.1300 (left) and 1992 (right):
This simple change makes central Europe – Hungary, Poland, Lithuania – more prominent than would normally be the case. It also emphasises Europe’s physical nature as a peninsula (another theme for Davies).
Davies’ area of specialisation is Poland, so this emphasis on central Europe is unsurprising. Some of the strongest parts of the book come towards the end, where Davies is able to combine his deep knowledge of (and love for) Poland and other eastern European countries with his humanistic opposition to tyranny, in giving an impassioned account of the rise and fall of the Soviet Union.
It’s taken longer for me to read than I’d anticipated (I started it in July), mostly because its sheer physical bulk has limited the times when I’m able to read it. But I’m glad I took the time, and can recommend that you do, too.
Edit: it’s been pointed out to me on Twitter that Tony Judt wrote an excoriating review of this book, in which he damned it as “littered with embarrassing and egregious errors” and “truly unsavoury” (Judt grumpily detests Davies’ rotation of the map as shown above, too). Certainly I’d noticed quite a few factual errors in my reading, and Davies’ tendency to relativise the Holocaust grated as I read it. None of that was enough to dampen my overall enjoyment, though. I have, however, reserved from the library a copy of Judt’s book containing his review, so let’s see what I think after I’ve read that.
One might as well ask why the Protestant God was so successful in endowing his followers with coalfields.
Norman Davies giving short shrift to attempts “by Marx or Weber” to correlate 19th century capitalism with 16th century Protestantism. Europe: A History, p.507.
The liturgical text forms the portal through which music enters into the cultural history of the Western Christian world.
Thrasybulos Georgiades, Music and Language: The Rise of Western Music as Exemplified in Settings of the Mass, quoted by Norman Davies, Europe: A History, p.332.
Perpetual peace is a dream, and not even a beautiful dream. War is part of God’s order. Without war, the world would stagnate and lose itself in materialism. In it, Man’s most noble virtues are displayed – courage and self-denial, devotion to duty, willingness to sacrifice oneself, and to risk life itself.
Field Marshal von Moltke, quoted by Norman Davies, Europe: A History, p.875.
Rivers to the geographer are the bearers of sediment and trade. To the historian they are the bearers of culture, ideas, and sometimes conflict. They are like life itself. For 2,888 kilometres from Donaueschingen to the Delta. the flow never stops.
Norman Davies on the River Danube, Europe: A History, p.64.
When the House of Windsor was created by deed poll in 1917, the republican H. G. Wells had called them ‘alien and uninspiring’. But their cousin, the German Kaiser, was less critical. In a rare flash of wit, he said that he was off to the theatre to see a performance of The Merry Wives of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha.
Norman Davies, Europe: A History, p.810.
Eliot’s 433-line poem, largely written in Switzerland. was inspired by the legend of the Holy Grail, and was composed from a string of arcane literary allusions and fragments. The overall effect resembled a ramble through the relics of a shattered civilization.
Norman Davies on The Waste Land. Europe: A History, p.954.
Started #reading The Isles: A History, by Norman Davies.
They Are Writing About Us In Pravda, by Aleksei Vasilev (1951).
Norman Davies writes of this heartwarming depiction of Moldovan peasant life:
This is hardly great art. But the technique is competent; and the effect is pleasant to the eye. Without indulging any crude political gesture. Vasilev has succeeded in mobilizing all the main elements of Socialist Realism—or ‘revolutionary romanticism’ as Zhdanov called it—as decreed by the Party authorities in 1934. He produces a picture which, to quote Stalin’s phrase, is ‘national in form, and socialist in content.’ The narodnost’ or national spirit of the work is implicit in the link between these Moldavian peasants and their admirers in Moscow. Its partiinost’ or ‘devotion to the party’ is explicit in their delight at the mention of their work in the Party paper. Its klassovost’ or ‘class-consciousness’ is underlined by their peasant clothes and physical labour. Its ideinost’ or ‘ideological character’ is manifest in their optimistic and politically correct attitudes. Its tipichnost’ or ‘representative message’ comes over loud and clear: happy workers plus modern machinery make for high productivity and the welfare of the masses. It is overtly socialist, and it looks quite realistic.
The fact is, all the most important realities of life in the Soviet Union have been systematically falsified. In reality, the Moldavian peasantry had recently been robbed both of its land and its culture. They were forced to live and work in collectives, whose surplus was taken away by the Soviet state. Thousands upon thousands had been driven to their death in the Gulag, or shot as so-called saboteurs. Their language had been arbitrarily transferred to the Cyrillic alphabet, so that Soviet-educated children could no longer read pre-war Romanian or Moldavian literature. They were denied all contact with the western half of their province in Romania, which they were told was a foreign country. They were beaten, beggared, and bullied. And the world was told they were stunningly content.
For the impartial viewer. the question posed is this: how much aesthetic value can art retain when, in human and moral terms, its principal purpose is fraudulent?
Norman Davies, Europe: A History, p.1011.
Yay! It’s time to start working through Tumblr’s favourite book again:
