Archive for the ‘Books’ Category

“Night” by Elie Wiesel — Re-Reading

Friday, January 20th, 2012

I’ve been re-reading Eli Wiesel’s ground breaking,  terrible, memoir,  Nightthis last week, along with a niece in 9th grade, who is reading it in her English class.  My god!  I think.  Was I ready for such images in 9th grade —-of staggering at a run through the snow or be shot?  Of babies being tossed into the flames? Of  a starving son beating his father for food?  I recall 10th grade as the first of what were to become my grown-up years.  We heard of Americans of Japanese ancestry being taken from their homes, schools and businesses and held in concentration camps during WW II.  Unheard of!  No one in my family had ever mentioned such a thing. But it was true. Nor did the adults I knew want to hear about it.  For me a life-lasting skepticism of claims of national of danger and of praise for our own goodness was set in motion.  But Wiesel’s memories of his own year and a half  long crawl towards death, would I have been ready to take this in?  I hope the teacher is a profound and careful person.

The memoir, which began as a 900 page effort in Yiddish, published in 1955 in Buenos Aires, only received rejection slips in France, the U.S. and Great Britain, even after it had been drastically pared to just over 100 pages, at the behest of Wiesel’s  new friend, the Catholic writer François Mauriac.  As Wiesel says in a preface to the new edition, translated by his wife Marion Wiesel, there was, following the war

“…careless and patronizing indifference toward what is so inadequately called the Holocaust…   The subject was considered morbid and interested no one. If a rabbi happened to mention the book in his sermon, there were always people ready to complain that it was senseless to “burden our children with the tragedies of the Jewish past.”

Finally, in 1958 an edition was published in France (more…)

Translation: Dancers at the Wedding

Sunday, January 15th, 2012

One of the books I received for holiday good wishes was David Bellos’ “Is That a Fish in Your Ear?“, a book length essay on translation.  Even though I identify myself to some degree as a translator, that book has been buried under others:  a  history of Turkey (where I am going), volumes of Proust and Flaubert (having recently come from Paris,)   Lisa Randall’s acclaimed Knocking on Heaven’s Door — promising to bring me up to date on  phyics and the universe.  Kerstin Hoge’s quick review of Fish in the Times Literary Supplement (Jan 6, 2012) will change that.  It’s now next up.

Hoge begins with the wonderful image of translators  seeming “to be engaged in a pas de deux with the source text.  Like dancers, translators can stay in close embrace or more further away… fit their performance to the context..and often find their professional relationship described in eroticized terms (accusations of betrayal and infidelity are part and parcel of the discourse on translation.)”

She summarizes Bellos’ argument that ” translation is another name for the human condition” ..  embodying the presuppositions that we are all different and yet the same.  Translation between languages draws on the same procedure of  “using one word for another” that is employed within a single language.”  That is “, translation is a central feature of linguistic behavior….”

All of which I heartily agree.  Howeve, since  TLS has the peculiarly anti-intellectual policy of keeping a clamp on their content, I’ll have to point you to a few others reviews, all equally laudatory. Adam Thirwell in the NYT.  Maureen Freely in the Telegraph, UK.  Frederick Raphael in The Literary Review.

Looks like a book anyone who realizes that the Bible, the Tolstoy, the Flaubert they have been reading is not what the authors, themselves wrote,  and have wondered about that, would enjoy.

Passage of Tears – a novel from Djibouti

Friday, January 6th, 2012

A returning ex-pat, an espionage mission, a mysterious Islamist counter-intelligence figure locked away in Djibouti’s Devil’s Islands, a palimpsest of letters written to Walter Benjamin appearing through the notes a scribe is taking from “The Master,” a rageful twin brother who plans the death of his twin, devotion to the great African pianist and singer Abdulla Ibrahim.  All these are woven up in a small, intriguing novel, Passage of Tears, by Abdourahman A. Waberi, in an excellent translation by David and Nicole Ball.  First published in French in 2009, the English version comes to us in a nice Seagull Books edition, in 2011.

In alternating chapters by the narrator, Djibril, and the scribe, Djamal, the setting and story unfold, at once two biographies — which may be one–, a situation report of the Horn of Africa, and an appreciation of Walter Benjamin who died decades before, an immigrant in flight, but who created a new kind of history, much admired by the narrators:

…a conception of history, which was not theoretical or arid in the least.  It appealed to me [Djibril] because it seemed as sensitive to human beings as the stories my Grandpa Assod used to tell.”

Djibril, having lived in Canada for many years, has returned as an employee of one of the new private security firms to which nations are outsourcing their intelligence work.

“I returned to Djibouti for professional reasons, not to feast at the table of nostalgia or open old wounds.

…My mission consists in feeling out the temperature on the ground, making sure the country is secure, the situation is stable and the terrorists under control.”

The problem is, he is in fact, caught up in his nostalgia; an old wound is opened, wide.

The chapters from Djamal, are titled with letters of the Arabic alphabet.  Alif, Ba, Ta  to Ya, and so, far less indicative than those from Djibril:  The Scent of the Father; Revolt in the Desert.  Though apparently deep inside the prison, Djamal and the Master are intimately aware of Djibril’s presence.  Many of his notes, intended to be transcriptions of the Master’s sermons and homilies, are directed to him — as though he were the auditor, or reader.

So what do you know…you trickster from McGill, you wanted to get close to us !  And to do what?  To look through your binoculars  and take snapshots of our jail from every angle?

…We are closely monitoring your every move.  We know all about you, the cover of your bedside book and the brand of your toothpaste.  Every word you say is reported back to us, all the way to this watertight cell.

(more…)

In The Garden of Beasts — a Review

Thursday, December 29th, 2011

All who have read about, and certainly those who experienced, World War II and  Germany’s becoming  the vicious murderer of its own people, the invader of bordering countries and a threat to all of Europe, less than twenty years after its  defeat in WW I, have wondered: how did this happen, and could it have been stopped?   Similar questions have risen in recent years following the disastrous U.S. invasion of Iraq and the scarcely less happy one of Afghanistan, as Iran is seen by western nations to be be on the cusp of nuclear weapons capability:  should countries intervene in the affairs of others?  Ever?  If so, and if diplomatic and economic interventions fail, are military strikes ever the answer?

The question wanting to be answered is:  would power applied now bring less destruction and death than power applied later?  Does the case of Germany in the 1930s provide us with any wisdom regarding Iran, Serbia, Syria?

It is this question which led Erik Larson to William E. Dodd, U.S.  Ambassador to Germany from July 1933 to December 1937, and to his family, but particularly his 24-year-old daughter Martha.  What he found resulted in his 2011 book  In the Garden of Beasts: Love, Terror and an American Family in Hitler’s BerlinThough Larson shies away from calling this a history, in favor of a narrative non-fiction, the genre of his other books, it is a welcome addition to the mountain of research and writing, history and otherwise, about Hitler, the Nazis, the build up to WW II and what on-lookers, even players, were seeing and doing.   With Martha Dodd and her many, and scandalous, love affairs forming a major thread of the book, it may attract readers who would not open a standard book of history.  And in the process they will learn much. In fact, Tom Hanks has reportedly seen enough, of popular interest, to have purchased the movie rights.

Larson does a good job, as he tells us in his preface he wants to,  of helping us see Berlin in the summer, fall and winter of 1933 after the Dodd’s arrival in mid July.  By this time Hitler had been Chancellor for 6 months and lots of people knew things were going seriously wrong in Germany. (more…)

Tomas Transtromer: A Poet Cheered by Small Things

Saturday, December 3rd, 2011

I know you know that Tomas Transtromer, Sweden’t great poet, was awarded the 2011 Nobel Prize for Literature. But, my goodness! Have you tasted any?

Storm
The man on a walk suddenly meets the old
giant oak like an elk turned to stone with
its enormous antlers against the dark green castle wall
of the fall ocean.

Storm from the north. It’s nearly time for the
rowanberries to ripen. Awake in the night he
hears the constellations far above the oak
stamping in their stalls.

[translated by Robert Bly]

Or this: 

BELOW FREEZING

We are at a party that doesn’t love us. Finally the party lets the mask fall and shows what it is: a shunting station for freight cars. In the fog cold giants stand on their tracks. A scribble of chalk on the car doors.

One can’t say it aloud, but there is a lot of repressed violence here. That is why the furnishings seem so heavy. And why it is so difficult to see the other thing present: a spot of sun that moves over the house walls and slips over the unaware forest of flickering faces, a biblical saying never set down: “Come unto me, for I am as full of contradictions as you.”

I work the next morning in a different town. I drive there in a hum through the dawning hour that resembles a dark blue cylinder. Orion hangs over the frost. Children stand in a silent clump, waiting for the school bus, the children no one prays for. The light grows gradually as our hair.

[Translated by Robert Bly in The Half Finished Heaven: The Best Poems of Tomas Transtromer, Graywolf Press, 2001 ]

The Great Warming: Climate Change and the Rise and Fall of Civilizations

Thursday, October 27th, 2011

Brian Fagan’s The Great Warming: Climate Change and the Rise and Fall of Civilizations contributes another fine book to the growing library of the history of climate change and human life.   Fagan here concentrates primarily on the Medieval Warm Period from about 800 to 1300 CE.   Jared Diamond’s Collapse: How Societies Choose to Fail or Succeed, is perhaps the best known climate history with some 10 examples of societies — many of them in the Medieval Warm Period– which failed, or succeded for a while.  Diamond’s focus, as seen in the titles,  is different than Fagan’s, less a history of climate and its influence on people and more on the decisions societies make, or fail to make, when confronted with great changes in circumstances. Other recent books on the general theme are Catastophe: An Investigation into the Origins of Modern Civilization, by David Keys, which covers some of the same events as Fagan,  and Late Victorian Holocausts: El Nino Famines and the Making of the Third World, by Mike Davis, which looks at climate history much nearer to the present time. Fagan himself, emeritus professor of anthropology at the University of Santa Barbara, has several related titles, including The Little Ice Age: How Climate Made History 1300-1850,  the centuries that followed the Medieval Warm Period, and The Long Summer: How Climate Changed Civilization,  which might be better called “How Climate Made Civilization,” as it looks at the years of pre-history, from about 15,000 BCE to the beginning of the Little Ice Age, about 13,500 CE.  Knowledge about climate and human habitation in these long ago centuries has increased greatly in recent years due to new and more subtle technologies, and the marvelous ability of serious science to take what is understood, create new theories which can be tested with new devices and knowledge cross fertilized between archeology, anthropology, climatology, and all of these with the paleo- prefix before them.  The Great Warming is a great place to begin.

Fagan picks the Medieval Warm Period for examination in part because it is continuously cited by climate change deniers as proof, they say, that the earth has warmed up before and it’s part of the natural cycle of things. The conclusions of 99% of climate scientists who say today’s climate is on track to warm to catastophic levels is so much bunkum. The other reason to focus on this period is because the recent surge of data-based evidence from all around the world has given us a much clearer picture of conditions we could only guess at a few years ago: carbon-dated trees long buried below the water of Mono and Walker Lakes in California, measurable titanium content in layered sequences of deep sea core, reflecting heavy and light run-off during precipitation, more and deeper ice-core samples showing carbonate levels connecting long droughts in the Tibetan plateau with droughts in the southern Andes.

The evidence of history, Fagan finds, is that while there were large, positive effects of the  Medieval Warm Period, they were largely confined to northern and western Europe. Looking further afield, the warmth that brought longer growing seasons to France and Germany, and made England a wine exporting country, brought devestating drought to the Eurasian steppes and almost certainly drove Ghenghis Khan and his sons west, destroying Baghdad, the center of the Islamic world, and into Vienna, poised to drive into Europe.

In the American southwest, similar decades long droughts, again during the Medieval Warm Period finished the Chaco Canyon pre-Pueblo civiliation. Multiple three and 6 year droughts sapped the Mayan empire until its collapse in the early 10th century.  In China, the warm period was associated with violent swings between extremes:

The droughts were not continuous but cyclical, which would have had dangerous shock effects on the loess lands where the northern borderlands lay.   When a sudden wet year followed a long drought cycle, , floods would have inundated the arid fields and disused irrigation works in short order.   The centuries of the Medieval Warm Period were climactically extremely volatile in this region of dramatic rainfall shifts, perhaps even more so than anywhere else on earth.

In Europe, where the increased warmth laid the basis for moden life, he cites crop productivity before the warm period then shows how it grew as the summers lengthened, rainfall became more regular, predictability was more accurate. As crops increased in size and food was above bare survival amounts, life span increased, family size got bigger.  As families got bigger more land was needed. Marginal land was converted and could be plowed with the advent of the moldboard plow which could turn over clayey ground as the earlier ard plow could not. Deforestestation began apace. In 500 CE over 3/4 of temperate western and central Europe was forest or swampland. By the early 1300s, the end of the warm period, over half of that was gone. As early as 1322 in England, villagers complained about deforestation. As crop-based wealth grew and supported more people, skilled trades advanced, capital was accumulated and such monuments as the Cathedral of Notre Dame could be built…

The chapter about the Mongol raiders is very interesting, though he spends too much time, in my opinion, on their “interesting” ways of killing, and the fear they sowed everywhere they went, and too little on the climate connection. He does say:

The prolonged warm period detected in the Mongolian tree rings coincides with Ginghis Khan’s savage conquests: hotter and drier conditions would have mean a surge in warfare at a time of potential hunger and rising unrest.

and follows Batu Khan’s withdrawal from Vienna by saying that the wetter, better conditions in Bulgaria and the Cuman steppes took away the incentive to drive on into Europe’s heartland.

He also has interesting, more speculative chapters about the Inuit in the Yukon and how warmer seasons allowed them to push east, how the gold trade between western Africa and Egypt was dried up as the sahara grew southward.

To Fagan’s own surprise, after synthesizing all the material available, “as my research progressed away from Europe, I realized that drought was the hidden villain in the the Medieval Warm Period.” And not only then:

In a telling analysis of ninteenth century droughts, the historian Mike Davis has estimated, conservatively, that at least 20 million to 30 million people, and probably many more, most of them tropical farmers, persihed as the consquence of harsh droughts caused by El Niño and monsoon failures during the nineteenth century, more people than in virtually all the wars of the century.

Fagan has an important story to tell, and by and large he tells it well.  The cut-outs with explanations of El Niño and the Southern Oscillation or Pacific Decadal Oscillation are helpful, as are the many maps, illustrating the regions under discussion.  Less successful for me are the periodic present tense narratives of peoples thousands of years ago:

The gray light of a clear sky before dawn spreads across a dry lake bed.  The men crouch low among the shrubs on the dry floor of a huge, rapidly shrinking lake in what is now California  This is the driest year they can remember…

For some readers, these portions may humanize the larger systems histories.  For me, they are a different register, and interrupt my otherwise pleasurable, and informative reading.

His fear is great.  Those societies that managed to survive calamitous droughts and other forms of climate chanage were those which were most adaptable, typically associated with smaller and well connected communities.  The larger, and less flexible cities or societies became, the less able they were to adapt.  He hold out some hope, however small.

The people of a thousand years ago remind us that our greatest asset is our opportunism and endless capacity to adapt to new circumstances.  Let us think of ourselves as partners with rather than potential masters of the changing natural world around us.

 The Great Warming is certainly worth reading, as it look like, are those others listed above.  For a more general view on climate change, the events and science of today, my preferred book is Tim Flannery’s The Weather Makers: A History of Climate Change.  It’s a series of essays, engaged in climate science and detailing the trouble spots on the globe today, examples of what we are facing.  Another excellent primer is Joe Romm’s [of Climate ProgressHell and High Water: The Global Warming Solution.

To End All Wars: Adam Hochschild

Saturday, September 24th, 2011

If you’ve ever stood a picket line, leafleted about an unpopular cause,  been arrested for civil disobedience, fought and lost against the powerful, if you have raged about the lives lost to war,  here’s a book that should be in your hands –and half-way read.  If you vaguely sense that the  modern international order came spilling from the obscure depths of World War I, Adam Hochschild is the writer you should turn to.  His To End All Wars  is a  marvelous history not just of WW I and its generals and governments, but of the  mostly forgotten individuals who fought back against great evil and great ignorance, often reviled by their comrades of only weeks before.

Following his two other excellent books, King Leopold’s Ghost and To Bury the Chains  Hochschild has done it again with a stirring account of key players in England’s part in World War I; the Generals and politicians of course but the opposition figures as well — the COs who were threatened with death before a firing squad, the women  coming out of the very militant  suffragette  movement, who took on the war machine, the small handful of socialists and labor leaders who agitated continually against the constant calls to Join Up and Do Your Duty.  It’s not all a glorious story, either.  Not all who opposed the war before the shooting began, stayed true to their beliefs.  Many socialists and pacifists of every stripe, vociferous in their condemnation of war in the abstract, or insistent on the  reality of the brotherhood of workers around the world, fell fast into march step with the fevered nationalism of the day.  But some kept at it, spending virtually their entire lives in meetings, demonstrations, letter writing campaigns, and jails.

Hochschild spent some five years combing the histories and archives to come up with his “Dramatis Personae,”  some of them among the most famous Britons of the time, some of them, resisters,  famous then and forgotten now.  The military men,  Sir John French,  the Commander in Chief of the British Armies in France, Sir Herbert Horatio Kitchner,  as Minister of War  his boss,  General Douglas Haig, Winston Churchill,  had all been young men in the colonial wars of the 1880s,  thrilled to be in combat against Muslim Arabs of the Sudan who did not know their place or appreciate the benefits of being part of the Empire.  Many had enhanced their fighting mentality in vicious battles in South Africa against the non-British white colonists spread across the Transvaal, in the Second Boer War 1899-1902.

Charlotte Despard is introduced, as one of the great contrasts and tension points of the book.  She had come from a well-to-do British family and had early felt great compassion for the the poor she saw around her.  She married well and for 20 years engaged in political causes, and wrote long romantic novels.  In 1890, when Charlotte was 46, her husband died and she found her true calling, working in one of London’s poorest slums, opening community centers and attending to the lives and education of the poor, devoting herself,  as Hochschild quotes her, “to those who slave all their lives long … earning barely a subsistence,  and thrown aside to death or the Parish when they are no longer profitable.”

Charlotte Despard and Sir John French were brother and sister.  When he led the British armies in France from 1914 to his “promotion out”, in December of 1915, she opposed the war with all her being.  When he oversaw the suppression of the Irish fight for independence, she cheered for it, and opposed him.  And yet, until near the end, they remained close.  She was his elder sister and had raised him after the early death of their parents.

In Despard’s sixties she  was jailed for 21 days in Holloway Prison for suffragette activities.  It was with these women she met the other major players in To End All Wars, also members of a  split family:  Emmeline Pankhurst and her three daughters,  Christabel, Sylvia and Adela.  Militant suffragettes, Emmeline was both charismatic and dogmatic. She declared that suffragettes were “soldiers engaged in a holy war…”  and led them in window smashing, assaults on police officers, and arson.   When members of the WSPU [Women's Social and Political Union], which she had founded, told her she was acting against the WSPU constitution, she flew into a fury and replied, “then I’ll tear up the constitution.” As war broke over the nation in 1914, Emmeline and Christabel called for an end to militant suffragette activities and to back the government — which had jailed her so often– against the German Peril.  She used her powerful speaking skills to advance the cause of British patriotism,  with accusations of treason for those who opposed the war, including Sylvia.

These were women to be reckoned with.  Others among the opposition to the war were Emily Hobhouse who, kicking and screaming, opposed the British concentration camps in South Africa during the Boer War, and Keir Hardy, socialist leader of the Scottish miners, member of parliament, outspoken opponent of the Boer War and the war with Germany.  He was also Sylvia Pankhurst’s lover.

You gotta read this book just to know these folks!

After introducing us to the major players, Hochschild takes a brief look at the contending forces in the war to come: the Germans with their dream of equaling the British and French in power, prestige and colonies, Austro-Hungarians furious with the Slavs of Serbia who were straining to leave their  Empire and calling on their “brother Slavs” of Russia to lend a hand; the Russians with their fear of German territorial designs, humiliated by the Japanese 10 years earlier, held in contempt around the world [Roosevelt said that "No human beings, black, yellow or white could be quite as untruthful, as insincere, as arrogant  ... as untrustworthy in every way, as the Russians."] were spoiling to prove their mettle by assisting Serbia’s Slavs.  France had recent memories of a German invasion, loss of Alsace-Lorraine, and occupation of Paris in the War of 1870,  the Franco-Prussian war.   England would have liked to stay out of the brewing mess, but there was there treaty with Belgium to consider.  All parties, including Germany,  had signed to honor Belgium’s neutrality but England which had created an independent Belgium after the revolutions of 1830, had a particular interest.  Wellington had defeated Napoleon on the wide open fields of Belgium.  England did not want any competitor nation to control that area.  Belgium’s coasts are England’s frontiers as Barbara Tuchman memorably puts it.

And then the story unfolds. Germany invades Belgium.  England is forced to respond.  France, despite its years-in-the-making plan to attack-attack  is beaten back to the doorstep of Paris and then, in a miracle, holds at the Battle of the Marne — all within the first  month of the war– and all settle-in for 4 years of disastrous static warfare: 10 million soldiers dead;  6 million civilians. 60% of French men between 18-40  killed or injured.  At the books end we not only have gripping knowledge of the struggle to make anti-war voices heard — in the face of formidable, and often ugly responses, but we know quite a bit about British colonialism, the primer of the Boer War, as well as the lack of generalship and diplomacy which led to such horrific losses.

There were only a couple of things I’d wished.  Though he spends a good chapter on the young officers of the Boer war who became British generals in WW I, I felt a bit more time could have been spent to help us understand the popular explosion of war-fever in England, against the Germans.  It turns out that Germany supported the Boer “rebels” against the British in this war, and so there was considerable popular feeling against those who had helped “kill our boys.” Similarly, the effect memories of the Franco-Prussian war had on the French.  It is amazing to read, or see in documentary movies, but in all three countries, ordinary citizens took to the streets following the declarations of war, as though unexpected holidays or a rain of wealth had been announced.

Hochschild also suggests that had the assassination of the the Archduke Ferdinand had not happened, and the Austrians not thought it a Serbian plot, the war might have been avoided.  That’s not my reading at all.  Germany’s Count Alfred von Schlieffen has been drafting his infamous plan, to open a two-front war, for years.  Diplomats and military men all across Europe thought a war inevitable.  There were predictions in the spring of 1914 that it would start no later than October.  The assassination was just the particular bullet to hit the powder keg; any of a hundred others would have done as well.  The time to stop wars is not after the powder is exploding it was years and years earlier when the competition for colonies and the wealth they brought was growing, when all “the dirty looks” and “dissing” between countries, and leaders and citizens were festering.  Too many heroes wait from war time to manifest themselves, and not enough show up when it’s really hard and idiocies and wrong headed polices have to be opposed.

Of course the definitive military-political book of the first month of the WW I  is Barbara Tuchman’s justly famed The Guns of August.  If To End All Wars  grabs your attention you will meet many of the same characters –mostly not at their finest– in her book.  Sir John French, in particular, comes out looking like he should have paid attention to his big sister, and retired to their estate.  Had others not intervened, his leadership — lack of– would have shamed England for decades, and likely led to the German occupation of France.

With three connected histories about the interconnecting popular movements against man’s inhumanity to man, the African slave trade, the Belgian Congo rubber slavery and anti-war warriors, it will be wonderful to see what Hoschschild comes up with next.  With such a depth of knowledge in the European human rights movements it would make sense for him to add to that.  The British CND [Committee for Nuclear Disarmament] which gave us the famous “peace” sign, would be one options, or perhaps a history of some of the early and long lasting NGOs like Oxfam, Amnesty International, Human Rights watch — and looks at their significant campaigns, often carried out on war-footings as dangerous and demanding of great courage as for any soldier.

[For documentary pictures of war celebration, see Wooden Crosses [Les Croix de Bois], Raymond Bernard’s 1932 film of French soldiers on the Western Front.]