“Soldiers and Ghosts: A History of Battle in Classical Antiquity”, by J. E. Lendon

468 pages, Yale University Press, ISBN-13: 978-0300106633

If we ponder the question of why things change in history, we often fall back on technology; we assume that societies change because they develop new tools or new techniques which cause further changes rippling through institutions and lives. But is this always so? Lendon explores the question by looking at how different ancient armies fought. Over the course of Greek and Roman antiquity, different armies fought in very different ways, and in casual histories one often sees this explained by technological advances. Yet this cannot be so, because in fact there were very few changes in military technology between the time of the Assyrians and the fall of Rome; nor can the change really be explained by the slow spread of ideas (the Romans were not such fools that it took them 200 years to understand the phalanx).

Lendon looks instead at the basic questions of how nations were organized and why men and nations fight (they do not fight, you may sure, just to win battles). Lendon argues that ancient nations selected weaponry and battle formations that reflected the basic structure of their societies and allowed them to achieve their goals. The wars of the classical Greeks were mainly contests for prestige between city states, and Lendon argues that they fought hoplite battles because this best allowed one group of citizens to test their courage and civic pride against another. The Romans of the 3^rd and 2^nd Centuries BC, says Lendon, were obsessed with courage and the honor they could win for themselves and their families by feats of daring in battle, so they adopted tactics that allowed would-be heroes to perform those feats.

One of Lendon’s best sections describes the fascination with ancient Greek history that overtook the elite of the later Roman Empire. In the later empire the Romans abandoned the methods of fighting that had won them their empire in the first place, but instead of adopting new innovations they generally looked backward, copying as best they understood them the tactics of Alexander and even Agamemnon. They often seemed to be battling, not the forces arrayed against them, but the shadow of Macedon or Troy, and as we know, any victories they won against those ghosts did their own society precious little good.

“Henry V”, by Christopher Allmand

496 pages, University of California Press, ISBN-13: 978-0520082939

Henry V by Christopher Allmand follows the pattern of most of the other books in the “English Monarchs” series in having the first part a chronological narrative and the rest an analysis of different aspects of the reign; thus, the first 182 pages are Henry’s life, while the last 261 pages are analysis of the same. Henry had an amazing reign, taking it upon himself to assert what he thought were his rights and conquer France while simultaneously uniting the English nation behind him (no small feat, that, as his father, Henry IV, had usurped the throne from Richard II). His victory at Agincourt against huge odds, no matter what one thinks of the war itself, is one of the most famous in English history and a brilliant exercise in medieval military leadership.

With all that said, I had difficulty rating this book: as an historical, factual, and detailed record of the life and reign of Henry V, it is an excellent reference text – as an enjoyable read, however, forget it, for while Henry was one of the most charismatic leaders in the Middle Ages, Allmand’s narration is flat as a pancake. It’s obvious from the text that the author pored over every 15^th Century document he could find…and he lists many of the facts from those documents in excruciating detail (for example, listing dozens of the more prominent citizens of the realm, how much each of them contributed in taxes, etc.). The author follows the same course on many other topics in order to paint a complete picture of Henry’s reign and to describe certain historical trends. But the excitement of the king’s exploits, for good or for ill, never gets across to the reader. The details are never woven into an engaging storyline which, if anything, the chronological part of the book should be. It is adequate, but Henry himself was never just adequate. The book is complete and informative, but it’s not an enjoyable read. The author is an excellent historian but not a great writer.

“The Ottomans: Dissolving Images”, by Andrew Wheatcroft

352 pages, Viking, ISBN-13: 978-0670844128

In his book The Ottomans: Dissolving Images, Andrew Wheatcroft, lecturer in the Department of English Studies at the University of Stirling, approached the topic from both European and Turkish perspectives, using accounts from Western travelers as well as historical Ottoman narratives in an attempt to provide a relatively balanced examination of the Osmanli (Ottoman) Dynasty in the 17^th-through-20^th-Centuries. Wheatcroft produced a text less concerned with the traditional history of the Ottomans as much as the ways in which the internal and external images of the sultanate changed over time. The text roughly follows a chronological approach, with chapters that revolve around particular themes related to stereotypes and myths – both internal and external – of the Osmanli. Accompanying the text are several sections of paintings and photographs – for which the author strove to avoid Orientalist caricatures (except when discussing Western misconceptions) – that provide readers with visual representations of the textual analysis. Notes accompany the sections with illustrations, offering additional insight into the visual representations of the Ottomans.

With all that said, I can’t help but feel that the author either lost his focus or he became bored with his subject. In the early chapters, Andrew Wheatcroft wrote of the stirrings of the fierce people of Anatolia (today’s Turkey), how they organized under their dedication to a militant strain of Islam, he adequately captured the drama of the time. When he described the blow-by-blow account of the fall of Constantinople, the crown jewel and last holdout of the Byzantine World, in the mid-15^th Century, a general reader’s interest was whetted. The best was yet to come – or so the reader thought. But, alas, the best didn’t come. The book just…petered out. A good start but no follow through. It became clear though, that Mr. Wheatcroft wanted to leave his readers with the notion that the Ottomans – that is the Turkish Ottomans – were and are opposed to modernization and change. He went into great detail reporting that in the 18^th and 19^th Centuries, when successive sultans tried to change the ancient, clumsy and archaic war methods and dress of the janissary warriors, they met with rebellion. Change was not welcome, and was bitterly opposed, even to death. So purposefully does the author push this theme of abhorrence to change, that in the final chapters he barely mentioned the explosive changes made in the 20^th Century by Kemal Atatürk.