by Doctor Science
I’m back from my week in beautiful Undisclosed Location, where internet access was a slow and unreliable thing. And where there was no TV and no newspapers, except the one with restaurant phone numbers. Besides sleeping, eating, walking, swimming, more eating, beer, shopping, live music, berry-picking, and yet more eating (note absence of *cooking*, an essential ingredient in making it a vacation), I talked to people face-to-face, and I read books. Lots of books. Five non-fiction and two fiction, and now I'm going to tell you about them.
In order of finishing:
The Thirty Year's War: Europe's Tragedy, by Peter H. Wilson. I read the first third (the set-up for the War) and the last third (consequences of the Peace of Westphalia and of the War itself), but only skipped around in the middle "battles and more battles" third. It’s a good introduction to a crucial period in European history about which I knew shockingly little: my Modern European History AP course in 1973 barely covered it, and Sprog the Elder’s course in 200?? wasn’t much better.
Pros: learned a huge amount, of course. I had never understood how truly the Holy Roman Emperor was *elected*, not just entitled quasi-genetically. So I’d never appreciated how much machinating various Hapsburg brothers and cousins would do, to get into a position to be elected. I’ve tended to think of European rulership to be inherited by quasi-genetic rules (primogeniture, especially), in contrast to Islamic rulershiip which traditionally involves a selection process among qualified candidates. The current Saudi succession system, for instance, seems to me to have strong similarities to the H.R. Imperial electoral system.
Cons: Wilson’s prose is rather stolid and not up to the enormous scope of the narrative. He’s reluctant to use commas, and apparently morally opposed to colons, semi-colons, and dashes, so his sentences read to me as droning, without enough vocal (?) modulation.
Also, he keeps referring to the HRE’s "constitution", but never defines it, so I really don’t know what he’s talking about. He’s British, though, so perhaps he thinks of all constitutions as uncodified, unwritten things we all just know. Very disorienting for an American.
American Tapestry: The Story of the Black, White, and Multiracial Ancestors of Michelle Obama by Rachel L. Swarns. I’d like to do a fuller review of this at some point, because the material is so revealing about America.
Pros: Gives a great sense of the rhythms of ordinary African-American lives from the 1850s to the end of WWII: before, during, and after the Great Migration.
Two related things I learned, both of which surprised me: how totally Mrs. Obama’s black ancestors refused to talk about their lives in slavery and to pass down the knowledge of what it was like, and how surprised and upset some of her white relatives are to face the reality of slavery. Did they never read Faulkner? Did they never internalize what he had to say?
I talked about the book with my parents, and we all decided to do a family Internet book club reading of Faulkner’s Go Down, Moses. Be warned: you’ll be playing too!
Cons: Not as well-organized or structured as it should be -- it was often hard to keep track of particular people. It really suffered from a lack of maps, and because the family tree in the endpapers doesn’t including birth/death locations for Mrs Obama’s family members.
The Long Earth by Terry Pratchett and Stephen Baxter. Pratchettian ideas and tropes, though not his prose, translated into science fiction by Baxter. Fascinating world-building, but problematic.
Pros: good characters who are more interested in doing their jobs (in the world and in the plot) than romance. The world-building is *epic*, up there with Ringworld and Last and First Men: suppose you could get to an alternate Earth where humans did not exist, just by flipping a switch? And from there to another, and another?
Cons: the authors are both English, and could have used a more thorough Ameri-picking, not just for turns of phrase but for culture, e.g. how religion works in American life.
More seriously, their world-building and their approach to the world is highly Anglo/American-centric and shows a kind of post-imperialist naivete. If you're writing a story about humans in the broad sweep of history and evolution, you shouldn't overlook that most people in the world today are Asian, and that human culture started in Africa. To expect to see big important patterns by looking at North America, especially the Pacific Northwest, strikes me as bizarre: if there's any action in an alternate universe, it's going to be first visible in Africa, the Middle East (=first region out of Africa), or the Indian subcontinent (next important region, also includes consistently dense populations).
Their naivete comes out when they depict humans starting to spread through the unihabited alternate Earths. I think perhaps American writers (at least nowadays) would be more aware of how violent frontier or hunter-gatherer cultures can be, and how bringing new cultures and ecologies into contact can lead to devastating invasions of alien plants, animals, and diseases. I don't want to say too much that's spoilery for the book, but I really scratch my head at a number of the choices Pratchett and Baxter made.
Crucible of Gold, by Naomi Novik, the next book in the pile, is the latest in the "Temeraire" series. Disclaimer: I've known Naomi for years, since well before she went pro, so it's
very difficult probably impossible for me to be objective about her books.
This one makes an interesting compare/contrast with The Long Earth, because it's about how our heroes Laurence (human) and Temeraire (dragon) come to a South America where the encounter between the Old World and the New was shaped by Europeans having germs, but not the equivalent of guns and steel. Novik is aware, as Pratchett and Baxter apparently are not, that human beings have a lot of seriously different cultures; she does a fascinating AU version of the Inca Empire, incorporating a lot of new archaeology I happen to have recently read about in The Incas: New Perspectives by Gordon F. McEwan.
Novik continues to wrestle with one of the overarching themes of her series: slavery. In this volume, she has the sort-of-slavery of the European dragons, the way the Inca dragons seem to own their humans, and something close to the historical slavery of Africans in Brazil. She doesn’t lecture or make a clear non-fictional argument, she tries to shape the narrative around the problems and follow where they lead. When fiction writers do this it always reminds me of people trying to straighten out an anaconda: you can’t just make it go where you want, you have to work with it, wrestle it.
I don’t know why, but I get a stronger sense of *wrestling* from Crucible of Gold than I do from The Long Earth, much more of a feeling that the book has its own ideas that the author is struggling to pin down. And I like that feeling. [1]
Twilight of the Elites: America After Meritocracy by Christopher Hayes. An important book I'd like to write about in detail in a standalone post. I'll note that Hayes is using "Twilight" in the sense of "Apocalypse".
Hayes adduces the Iron Law of Meritocracy: "eventually the inequality produced by a meritocratic system will grow large enough to subvert the mechanisms of mobility." He doesn't refer to Goodhart's Law or Campbell's Law, but he should -- I think he's talking about a variant of the same basic process. Basically, the more quantitative and "objective" our measure of merit, the more likely that the meritocracy will be made up of those who game the system. Hayes also has great insights into the psychology of "fractal inequality", where people all the way up the social scale keep feeling insecure compared to those even higher above them.
Devil in the Mountain: A Search for the Origin of the Andes by Simon Lamb. My mother picked this up in a coals-to-Newcastle trip to the library book sale, and I figured it would be a good match for my recent reading about the Inca. And it is!
Pros: gives a really good picture of what doing science is actually *like*, both the thinking parts and the grubby parts. Lots of stuff I didn't know from the last few decades about mountain-building, especially how they can be treated as extremely stiff fluids. It's commonplace to study how mountains cause climate, but Lamb has a fascinating theory about climate causing mountains. He suggests that the great height of the Andes (compared to other subduction zone mountains) is because there's a lot of friction between the subducting Nazca Plate and the South American Plate where the continent is. What causes the friction is a lack of lubricating sediment on the ocean floor, and what causes *that* is the fact that the western shore of South America is extremely dry, so sediment isn't being washed off the continent and into the Peru-Chile Trench. So the dry climate causes high mountains, not just vice versa.
Cons: like most of the science books I've seen recently, needs more illustrations. For instance, it's very frustrating that he rhapsodizes about Peach and Horne on Northwest Scotland but includes no image of their map.
The Last Fish Tale: The Fate of the Atlantic & Survival in Gloucester, America's Oldest Fishing Port & Most Original Town by Mark Kurlansky. I borrowed this from the man next to me on the train and sped-read it. It's OK, a little repetitive if you've read Cod already.
It make me wonder how much the stubborn attachment of fishermen to their occupation, even though the fisheries are collapsing under them one by one, is due to Stockholm Syndrome. Fishing is the most dangerous job in the US -- far more dangerous than firefighting or policing, and the pay is *much* worse. But at least if you say it's "in your blood" then you don't have to face up to the fact that you're risking your life to destroy your own future.[2]
[1] I have no idea if this makes sense: please tell me.
[2] In the process of writing up this post, checking facts and going off on tangents (as I do), I came across a paper about Salmon, Science, and Reciprocity on the Northwest Coast, by D. Bruce Johnsen. I found it because I was looking for a good cite about the fact, well-known to anthropologists at least, that Native peoples of the Pacific Northwest practiced slavery. Not precisely Edenic or Rousseauvian.
Johnsen argues that
the NWC tribes built salmon abundance over millennia of purposeful salmon husbandry. Far from being subsistence hunter–gatherers, they are better characterized as salmon ranchers.
My understanding about slavery among Native Americans is that it is only in the Northwest Coast that there was 'true slavery', so that the children of slaves would be slaves, and slaves would be killed at the funeral of the tribal leader. In other Native American groups, there were slaves who were taken as prisoners of war, but their children would not be classified as slaves (though this might be brought up to insult them) This article (from page 300) discusses it and the author has written a monograph about NWC slavery.
I'm not sure if this is an observation I have seen or one I am making, but one of the reasons slavery existed in a more organized fashion there was because it was easier to make raids and then escape via the coast and the other reason is that their societies were, as you note, based on 'salmon ranching', which created a massive amount of wealth that created a very hierarchical society. Another point to make about the amount of wealth they were able to amass, when it came time to negotiate treaty rights, they generally gave up most of their land as long as they were allowed to retain their fishing rights.
Posted by: liberal japonicus | August 15, 2012 at 08:30 AM
[h]e keeps referring to the HRE’s "constitution", but never defines it, so I really don’t know what he’s talking about.
This is probably not just the fact that the author is British. Historians tend to use the words in the meanings that these words had in the period they study, even if it causes confusion.
Until 19th century, "constitution" didn't mean a written document with the headline "Constitution". It was a vague concept, meaning the most important customs and statute laws of a country. In many cases, it was used to mean not only the form of government but also the criminal law and most important aspects of civil law.
Thus, the Germans of the 17th century would talk about the constitution of the Holy Roman Empire of German Nation, but it would consist of several acts and decrees. Everyone would probably agree about the core precepts, but the argument would center on defining the boundaries.
It's not that different in the US. For example, most people think that Posse Comitatus Act is an important constitutional protection, although it is not really required by the written constitution or even by preceding bench law.
Posted by: Lurker | August 15, 2012 at 08:56 AM
Reading, berry picking, eating ..... no internet .....
Ahhhh.
Great post, Doctor.
I look forward to your post on "Twilight Of The Elites", which I just finished as well.
Posted by: Countme-In | August 15, 2012 at 08:59 AM
For another less Rousseauian look at Native Americans, there's Cabeza de Vaca's account of his travels along the Gulf Coast following the collapse of the 17th Spanish expedition from Cuba he was a member of.
Our response to global climate change suggests we're all afflicted with Stockholm Syndrome. The carbon black is in our souls.
Years ago I worked in a commercial fishery -- california sea urchin -- which had managed to arrange a self-tax on landings administered by the State Fish & Game. Funds were to spent on researching the fishery and managing the quota system they'd come up with (a limit on the number of licensed divers). Not sure how the fishery is doing these days, as a result. But even those types can work together to find solutions. And if they can...
Finally, a note on the fighing life getting "in the blood." Fishing at that scale is romantic as hell. Terrifying at times, exhilarating, frustrating, satisfying, always challenging mind, body, and spirit. Almost every moment I was on the boat I looked ahead to getting back on the beach. And nearly every moment on the beach I looked ahead to getting back on the boat. It's a powerful stimulant.
Posted by: Lars H | August 15, 2012 at 10:19 AM
Gah. "A note on the fishing life..."
Where's the edit button?
Posted by: Lars H | August 15, 2012 at 10:21 AM
oh man.
"17th Century Spanish expedition"
Posted by: Lars H | August 15, 2012 at 10:22 AM
Nobody expects the Spanish expedition.
Posted by: Phil | August 15, 2012 at 10:32 AM
I think the Cherokees kept slaves. They learned that from the Europeans. But I haven't read anythiing about that in years and could be remembering wrong.
I read mysteries because I like a story to have a purpose other than introspective angst or strum and drang.I don't like books that are just one action scene after the other ad I really hate books about middle class white people who spend all their time being desperately unfulfilled and unhappy over childhood traumas or bad marriages. Get a life!
My favorite mysteries are the ones where the plot is an excuse for wandering through a time and place with interesting people: James McClure's South Africa series, Andrea Camilleri's Sicilian series (which is often funny and the characters stop to eat wonderful seafood meals every five or six pages no matter what's going on in the plot), and Colin COtteril's series set in Laos just after the Communist take over.
Lately the place I have been tourig is Turkey via Barbara Nadel but I'm on an excursion now into the Ottoman Empire in the 1830's via Jason Goodman's The Janissary Tree.
It's a brfeat way to travel to places I really don't want to go.
Posted by: Laura Koerbeer | August 15, 2012 at 11:43 AM
...the fact that the western shore of South America is extremely dry,
Did anyone else hear the story on NPR this morning about the natural mummification that insprired later human efforts at mummification (among the Chinchorro?). At any rate, it was also due to the arid climate of the western shore of South America. (Just to note a coincidence.)
Posted by: hairshirthedonist | August 15, 2012 at 12:24 PM
Our family has read all of Terry Pratchett's books out loud multiple times, but we're finding The Long Earth quite a slog. Two big problems:
So many arbitrary contrivances with no organic feel to them, and
So little reward along the way. Pleasure and insights are thin on the ground.
Well, a third problem is that there's no music to it. Pratchett's books are a delight to wrap your voice around.
Posted by: Doug | August 15, 2012 at 02:07 PM
I eagerly await the next Discworld novel out on 18th September.
Posted by: Hartmut | August 15, 2012 at 03:49 PM
Likelikelike.
Posted by: Slartibartfast | August 15, 2012 at 04:39 PM
You get vacations?
Posted by: bobbyp | August 15, 2012 at 08:09 PM
I've read the Wilson book on the 30 Years War and it is indeed rather a dour piece of work. The HRE did have a constitution of sorts, although large portions of it were rather shakily based and ill-defined. The Golden Bull of 1356 laid down a number benchmarks in terms of institutions or procedures, and these, combined with the ongoing development of the Imperial Diet produced a reasonably recognizable constitution. Alas, it found no Antonin Scalia to write quirky judicial fictions about it in hyperbolic terms involving broccoli! Joking aside, the Wilson book is important as the first real attempt for quite a while to bring together the work being done in a rather neglected field in English language history.
I have read the Novik books and they have some good things going on, but I have trouble believing that Temeraire would really remain quite so wussy and bumbling as he generally seems to be. I also find Novik's China and its inhabitants both rather exoticized and rather generic for my taste.
The Hayes book has moments, but it feels rather hastily written and facile at points. Its insights strike me as a little banal and not adequately contextualized. Too often, I feel that Hayes has decided to narrow his focus onto one theme and use that theme to explain more than it really can. I also wonder why he seems to have relatively little to offer in the way of solutions to the problem he identifies. In this, admittedly, he is typical of the modern American left, which now seems to be playing the role of conservatism in terms of defending institutions and the idea of government from the radicalized rightwing Bolsheviks of the post-Gingrich GOP.
Posted by: NickT | August 16, 2012 at 03:48 PM
Charles C. Mann, in his epic study of pre-Columbian Americas, *1491* (and picked up again in the sequel *1493*, which I am currently reading), suggests that on the east coast of what is now the USA there happened to be - BEFORE the Europeans came - a general distinction between "slave" societies ("Mississipian" cultures) roughly south of the Mason-Dixon line and non-slave societies (well, there was slavery, but it was temporary and not integral to the economy) among the Algonkians and others north of that line.
He wonders - as one would - whether the mapping of this distinction onto the North-South division in white colonial/USA society is entirely coincidental.
I know nothing more about it, but Mann generally seems to have his head screwed on right, and he cites his sources copiously. Both books are brilliant, IMHO.
Posted by: dr ngo | August 17, 2012 at 07:16 AM
Do any of our resident historians or history buffs have a recommendation on a good, comprehensive book (or books) on the Nuremberg trials? I'm looking for something after I finish the current pile on my nightstand, which consists of a recent biography of famed studio musicians The Wrecking Crew, four books from the 33-1/3 series of monographs on classic albums, an Iain M. Banks book in the Culture series and a biography of director Wes Craven.
Posted by: Phil | August 17, 2012 at 07:26 AM