The Templars
Another book I’ve been looking forward to reading for a long time. By Piers Paul Read, it looks good – a history of the Order, trying to sort fact from fantasy and hysterical accusations; not an easy task. I’ve only read 25 pages, but something in those pages has made me very happy: finally, a scholar who is sensible enough to quote from a contemporary Bible, rather than the King James! It’s a bit sad when people seem to think that you can only read the Bible with thee and thou and -est in it. Read is using the Jerusalem Bible, published in 1966; it is indeed a refreshing change. So, too, is the fact that Read does not make – or not yet, anyway – judgments about Christians and their beliefs. I’m not actually sure whether he’s a Christian being scrupulous about not making that too obvious, or whether he’s not Christian and tolerant enough to allow the Christian voice to be heard without condemnation. Either way, he’s presented a view of Christ and the early Church that’s one of the most straigh-forward and accepting I’ve ever read. Accepting in terms of ‘people believe this and who am I to nay-say’, I mean.
What this has to do with the Templars may be a good question, and it’s another thing for which I respect Read. He’s talking about this – the origin of Christianity, relations with Jews, early persecution – to give context to the formation of the Templars, and explain the background for some of the later events. As he says, some writers expect knowledge that some/many readers just won’t have, so to reach a wider audience you need to cater for them all. Even knowing half the early stuff, it’s good to be reminded, and also to read it in this context so it’s present in the mind while you read the later happenings.
Basque History
Not an Op Shop book, but one I’ve been looking forward to reading for a long time. Mark Kurlansky’s Basque History of the World is very well written and researched. I’ve been vaguely interested in this group of people for a while – I think I may even have done an assignment about them in early high school – and it certainly fits into my love of fairly obscure history. No Basque would thank me for saying that, I guess, but what I mean is that it is obscure in terms of the generally understood history of the world. The Basques as a nation do not seem to have had a huge impact on the world (although after reading this, I will passionately argue anyone who says that): to most people, they wouldn’t even seem to be a nation, since you can’t look up Basqueland on an average map and find defined borders. But, Kurlansky points out, they have had a huge impact – particularly on France and Spain (he concentrated mostly on the latter), and also on the rest of Europe and, consequently, the world. Who set up the Jesuits? That would be St Ignatius – or Ignatius de Loyola, a Basque, just to name one. Many of the other Basques who have had an impact are not acknowledged by name anywhere much, but their impact is certainly felt.
I love that Kurlansky included recipes in this book: although I don’t think I’ll ever use one (not knowing where I might find baby eels, and not being sure that I’d like to eat them anyway), it adds powerfully to the fact that this is a history of a people, who are still alive and very much kicking, rather than just being an academic look at some isolated, irrelevant people.
I really liked Kurlansky’s Salt, and I must get around to finding me his Cod.
Vietnam: A History
Being about to teach a class of Year 11s some Vietnamese history, I thought I should know a bit about it. Thankfully, we went to visit my family, and they may well have one of the world’s largest personal collections of books on Vietnam (Dad was a Vietnam veteran, and had a great interest in it). Well, that’s what it feels like, anyway. So I got Stanley Karnow’s Vietnam: A History, since what I really wanted was an overview of everything leading up to US involvement – I’m going to be teaching the French war, basically, up to the Geneva Conference in 1954. I’m not sure where to start; I’d like to do at least one lesson on China’s 1000-year occupation of Vietnam, as very relevant background…
Anyway, the book: it’s very good. I learnt an enormous amount just reading the first 4-5 chapters. I reallised I knew basically nothing about this area, and what it had gone through. For starters, I always just assumed that Ho Chi Minh was this scary Communist guy – and maybe later on he got really nasty, I’m not sure, I haven’t read that far – but from what I have read, I have the impression that he was far more of a nationalist than a Communist: no matter that he really did believe in the Communist ideas he was far more interested in getting Vietnam free of French rule, and avoiding American overlordship as well. He did, in fact, approach the US for help, but they didn’t want to get involved in Indochina – and they wanted to keep the French happy. Plus I guess they were already worried about the ‘domino effect’ of Communism…
As an historian I am fully aware of the impossibility of writing objective history, but Karnow seems to have had a good stab at it. He’s certainly not out to lionise the US, but neither does he paint a portrait of the poor suffering Vietnamese who only want to be left in peace. He seems quite fair to both sides, and seems to have gone to great lengths to be so – being a journo helped, of course, since as a reporter he got access to important people and has included many of their comments on various aspects of the history he’s writing.
This is a very good book, as an overview of Vietnam’s colonisation history. I think I might be able to use bits of it when I teach – maybe not this time, because I’m not sure what my supervisor will think about me not using the textbook – but when I’m out by myself (ack).
The Plato Papers
This book spins me out.
I read it all in one sitting, this afternoon (it is only 139 pages), and I’m glad I did – it had a greater impact because of that, I think. It’s a bit weird, and I am left with a number of questions unanswered: what are these ‘people’ like – would they be recognisably human? How do they classify themselves if not by such systems as we deem fundamental, such as gender? Who are they? But it has also given me questions to ask about history as we tell it. If they can make the logical assumption that “Charles D”, author of The Origin of Species is Charles Dickens, and that it is “a comic masterpiece”, what sort of erroneous assumptions may we have made in our reconstructions? This is something that has always caused me some grief – in particular I’ve never really known whether or not to be suspicious of the ‘argument from silence’ line, since who knows what we may have lost between now and ‘then’? And then there’s the whole point of cultural context, let alone oral history…
It is a good book, for all that, and I think it should probably appear on the reading list for some history courses – like the prereq subject for honours at Melbourne – just to make people think.
Warriors of God #2 – who does he think he’s kidding??
Describing James d’Avesnes: “who apart from Richard was the most gallant and chivalrous warrior of the entire European army.” Sorry? What’s your definition of chivalrous here?? I don’t think that your discussion of Richard so far allows for him to be called the most chivalrous warrior in the army by any stretch of the imagination!
I don’t think he can make up his mind whether Saladin was a wonderful person or not; sometimes he is the oh-so-holy Defender of the Faith, and sometimes he is “cruelly” beheading Christians – how do you do that cruelly, anyway? I guess he doesn’t have to make up his mind, but in these sections it seems like he has, and then he changes it…
I’m about 2/3 through, and I’m glad to have read it for a look at the period and people but, obviously, I have some issues with the portrayals.
Warriors of God
It’s not as academic as I had hoped. The author, James Reston, has probably set out to write a very approachable books – and it is, which is great. However, it rankles when he says ‘one chronicle remarks…’ and doesn’t tell you which chronicle that is. And, probably the most annoying thing, he does not give much reason for wholeheartedly accepting the theory that Richard and Phillip Augustus were lovers… and that annoys me. I don’t care if they were, I just object to the unscholarly way he approaches it – like he’s sensationalising it, and making Richard seem more modern, or something.
He also seems to have a love of Saladin and rather ambiguous feelings towards Richard. Which is fine, and I don’t mind authors saying that, but I do think they should make an effort to present balanced evidence, however much that is possible when you’re writing history.
It is a good book, though, and I think it is a good introduction to the period and people. I even like that it has me annoyed and asking questions, because that gets me doing my own research.
Randomly Yours, Alex 