All posts filed under: British History

Scars of Independence (Holger Hoock)

Scars of Independence should carry a big banner across its front, shouting “New & Improved!”  The book’s central, and only, claim to relevance is that it offers fresh insight into the War of Independence, uncovering hidden truths and exploding myths.  But, as with most “New & Improved” products, the consumer is disappointed, for while this is a serviceable history of the Revolutionary War, focusing on the violence involved, it is neither new, nor improved (although at least, unlike many other “improved” consumer products, the author hasn’t shrunk the box and increased the price).

Cake: A Slice of History (Alysa Levene)

I’ve always liked food history—maybe because as a small child I spent quite a lot of time reading The Cooking of Vienna’s Empire, a Time-Life cookbook my mother had, and from it learned quite a bit of history.  Many, if not most, modern cookbooks contain large sections of history, and many food history books contain a lot of recipes, such as Anne Mendelson’s Milk.  So there is significant overlap between the two genres.  This book, Cake, by Alysa Levene, falls more into the history category and less into the cookbook category.  It offers a largely successful blend of well-written data dump and mild social commentary—satisfying, like a cake!

Churchill & Orwell (Thomas Ricks)

The heroes of every age are often not seen as heroes during their lives, or if so viewed in their own age they are not so viewed in later ages.  And doubtless perceptions of heroes change as one future passes into another.  But for us, today, Churchill and Orwell are heroes to many, and whatever else may be true, this alone gives the two men something in common.  Thomas Ricks uses this commonality as the springboard and organizing theme for his book, which is a competently written capsule biography of its title subjects, combining examination of the men with examination of their time.  His book offers both an interesting narration of known facts and some fresh insights by the author—neither an easy feat when dealing with heroes.

The Great Divergence (Kenneth Pomeranz)

It is hardly news that the West has led the world economically for the past 200 years, or more.  This superiority (let’s be honest—that’s what it is) academics commonly call the “Great Divergence,” a term coined by Samuel Huntington in 1996, though the study of Western economic superiority began much earlier.  There are many sub-questions one can ask—e.g., what constitutes “the West”?  Is it England?  England and parts of the Continent?  How does America fit in?  When exactly did this takeoff begin?  Are other countries now catching up, or even passing, the West?  But these sub-questions are all small change compared to the most important question—why did the West diverge from the rest of the world at all, when all of world history up to that time exemplified the Malthusian Trap, where productivity increased too slowly to increase per capita output even when aggregate output increased?

The Abolition of Britain (Peter Hitchens)

I did not like this book as much as I expected.  In part that’s because, as an American, a narrative of British decline resonates with me less deeply, simply because much of the culture, politics and daily life of Britain is not familiar to me.  In part it’s because the book is written in a somewhat didactic, overly episodic, fragmented fashion.  But mostly, I think, it’s because I’m weary of conservative jeremiads that don’t offer any constructive recommendations on what to do.  After all, as my mother used to tell me, “if there’s no solution, there’s no problem.”  Conservatives who bemoan how bad things have gotten (and they have gotten very much worse in Britain since this book was written, 1999, or even since it was re-issued with a new Introduction, 2008) need to offer real alternatives and solutions, or they might as well not bother.

Fools, Frauds and Firebrands: Thinkers of the New Left (Roger Scruton)

It is easy enough to know what the Right thinks, and why.  Half a dozen recent books can easily be found explaining clearly libertarianism; or social conservatism; or “reform conservatism.”  But no such thing exists for the Left.  Yes, there are many books on what political ends the Left desires.  I think those desires are mostly insane and fly in the face of reality.  But it cannot be true that those on the Left view their desires, or what drives their desires, as either insane or senseless.  And one must know one’s enemy.  So why are those ends desired?  I have always found that hard to say.

The Long Recessional: The Imperial Life of Rudyard Kipling (David Gilmour)

Rudyard Kipling, when remembered today, is usually snidely dismissed as a jingoistic Victorian, or as the writer of certain children’s books. “The Long Recessional” provides the modern reader with a concise biography of the multi-faceted Kipling, showing him as, if not a man for all seasons, surely a man for his time.

Curzon: Imperial Statesman (David Gilmour)

“Curzon” is one of those typically British biographies of dead political figures. Such biographies tend to go into great detail not just about the protagonist, but about long-forgotten political issues fought among long-forgotten men. If you are interested in the protagonist, or the period, this can be excellent, as long as the writing is good, and Gilmour’s is good. But if you’re looking for an objectively thrilling read, you should stay away.

Empire of Cotton: A Global History (Sven Beckert)

“Empire Of Cotton” is really two books. First, it’s an exhaustive exposition of the history of cotton as a textile raw material. That’s about 80% of the book, and by exhaustive I mean very, very exhaustive. Second, and unfortunately dominating, it’s a puerile, scattered, self-contradictory and confused attack on the Great Boogeyman “Capitalism,” along with sustained criticism of anything originating in or related to European culture. This book is a sort of “Occupy For Eggheads.” But not for very clear-thinking eggheads.

Sir Walter Raleigh (Raleigh Trevelyan)

This book not only illuminates Sir Walter Raleigh’s life, but also illuminates his times in a way that brings real benefit to the reader. The author, Raleigh Trevelyan (who died in 2014), does an excellent job of making Raleigh’s story compelling, maintaining focus on his protagonist while bringing in enough of the historical and political background to put Walter Raleigh in the context of his times. (Although if you don’t like poetry, you may not like frequent quotations of Raleigh’s poetry—but those also illuminate the points at hand, and so are well worth paying attention to.)