The Testament of Andros
James Blish
216 pages
published in 1973
James Blish was a science fiction writer of the same generation as Isaac Asimov, the first science fiction writers to have grown up with science
fiction as a separate genre, to have become science fiction fans before they became science fiction writers. Blish's first short stories were
written in the early forties, before World War II interfered, so it was only in the fifties that he made his reputation. During that decade
he wrote quite a few classic short stories and novels, including the Cities in Flight series, with its vision of New York flying off
amongst the stars and A Case of Conscience, in which a young Jesuit wrestles with the question whether or not the aliens he lives amongst
posses souls. At the same time, writing under the pseudonym of William Atheling, Jr., he was one of the pioneers in applying literary criticism to science
fiction. His later work is less interesting, being spend mostly on writing Star Trek novels.
Though Blish is an important early science fiction writer, one who has written several excellent novels and short stories, I've always found myself a
bit lukewarm about him. I've read the novels I've mentioned above, attempted some other, later works of his, as well as most of his better known
short stories; they were alright, but no more than that. Part of the trouble I had with him is that he, for a science fiction writer, had quite a
conservative pessimistic atttitute towards the future, adhering to a Spenglerian,
cyclical view of history, most notably in the Cities in Flight series. I got nothing against a bit of conservatism or pesssimism
in my science fiction perse, even if I don't share it, but Blish's philosophy is a particularly dreary one.
Mediterranean: Portrait of a Sea
Ernle Bradford
574 pages including index
published in 1971
I read Ernle Bradford's book on the 1565 Ottoman siege of Malta, The Great Siege, some four years ago and
enjoyed Bradford's obvious enthusiasm and interest in the subject, though at times he made the siege sound a bit too much like a boy's adventure. Other
people seem to like it too, as not a week goes by without recieving hits on the review of it I did back. Apart from The Great Siege
however I've never seen any other Ernle Bradford book, until Mediterranean: Portrait of a Sea caught my eye on the Amsterdam library's
shelves two weeks ago. Bradford did a great job with his book on the siege of Malta, so I thought it would be interesting to see how he would do with
a slightly bigger subject.
And subjects don't come much bigger than this: the complete story of the Mediterranean, one of the most important areas in human history, from
the earliest beginning to the present day. As the subtitle indicates, Bradford isn't interested as much in the history of the various countries
and empires that have bordered the Mediterranean, as he is in the sea itself. He focuses therefore on the ebb and flow of human exploration of the
Mediterranean, on how the traderoutes through it were established and fought over, on the maritine empires that were established on it, on how their
domination of the sea led succesive empires to rule the countries surrounding it.
The Year of Our War
Steph Swainston
290 pages
published in 2004
I'll admit it was the China Miéville blurb on the frontcover that made me pick up this novel. For some reason the Amsterdam library is
overstocked with series after series of extruded fantasy product; if it hadn't been for that quote I wouldn't have looked twice. Steph
Swainston isn't somebody I had heard of before, or even seen mentioned, which goes to show how big fantasy is these days. The Year
of Our War is her first novel and it promises much for the future. Since its publication Swainston has written two more books, both
set in the same universe. But if it hadn't been for that Miéville blurb I never would've known about her, so score one for marketing.
If you look at just the barebones plot, The Year of Our War sounds like bog standard fantasy. The Fourlands are threatened by the
Insect invasion, a mindless almost unstoppale menace which has already taken over the northern part of the world, with only the Emperor and his
Circle of fifty immortals standing in their way, leading the defence against the Insects since God has abandoned the world over 2000 years ago.
Jant Shira, the hero and narrator of this story is the youngest of these immortals, a crossbreed of two races, winged but flightless Awian and
slender, thin half-wild Rhydanne, the result of which is that he can fly, but he's the only one in this world. Ever since becoming an immortal
he has served as a messenger and it's as such that he witnesses the disaster that undoes the costly stalemate the Circle has managed to create,
when the Awian King, Dunlin Rachiswater dies in an attack on the Insect lands and his weak brother mounts the throne and withdraws his troops
from the wall to protect him in his capital.
The Dark Side of Democracy
Michael Mann
580 pages including index
published in 2005
To be honest I only got this out of the library because its cover and backflap copy make it look like one of those horrid rightwing
books that explain in a calm, cultured manner how we should give up democracy for our own good and let our betters govern, because
if we do it ourselves it will inexordinately lead to genocide. This however turned out not to be the case. Michael Mann does explain
here why genocide and ethnic cleansing is something mostly practises by democracies rather than authoritarian or totalitarian states,
but he makes clear it's only a particular kind of democracy that's dangerous, and only in certain circumstances. Mann also makes clear
that he doesn't think abandoning democracy is the way to avoid genocides. Instead The Dark Side of Democracy is a honest
attempt at explaining how societies get themselves into the danger zone where ethnic based violence happens and how that can swing in
full scale, violent ethnic cleansing with genocide as the final stage.
As you might imagine, this is not a very cheerful read, and in fact I became decidedly grumpy during the week I read this, according
to my girlfriend. Despite this, I found The Dark Side of Democracy to be weirdly exhilarating, in as far as a book on genocide
can ever be exhilarating, even mildly optimistic. The most depressing thing about genocide and ethnic cleansing, as reinforced by our collective
memory about the Holocaust and the recent histories of Ruanda and Yugoslavia, is the idea that it could happen in any society, in any of our
own societies. Genocide isn't done by faceless savages in places far away and long ago, but by people not that long ago, not that far away, people
who looked a lot like you and I. What The Dark Side of Democracy postulates is that this isn't true, that it only happens in certain
circumstances in a certain type of society. Mann attempts to prove this by first defining eight general theses that together provide a generic
explanation for why violent ethnic cleansing and genocide happens in a given society, then looks at the historical evidence to see how the theory
fits it.
The Assassination of Julius Caesar - Michael Parenti
The Assassination of Julius Caesar
Michael Parenti
276 pages including index
published in 2004
All history is interpretation. That simple truth is hammered home in this book, The Assassination of Julius Caesar, offering
a radical new context for the events of the fifteenth of march 44 BCE. The facts remain the same, but the assumptions with which Michael
Parenti looks at the murder of Julius Caesar differ so much from the classical interpretation that almost an entirely new history is
revealed. It's a powerful antidote against so much pop history presented as if free from any social and ideological context, usually
because it's written from the safe cocoon of the dominant ideological assumptions of the day.
I picked up The Assassination of Julius Caesar when I saw it in the local library because I recognised it from
a review Resolute Reader did two years
ago. He described it as an antidote to the much more common interpretation of Roman history as the tales of great men. What Parenti does
instead is to place the murder of Julius Caesar in the context of the class struggle going on in the late Roman Republic.
