“Persuasion”, by Jane Austen

 

235 pages, The Folio Society

The family at the heart of Persuasion are the Elliots, respected members of the lower aristocracy that has fallen on hard times. They consist of Sir Walter and his three daughters, Elizabeth, Anne and Mary (Sir Walter’s wife died fourteen years before); Elizabeth and Anne are single while the youngest, Mary, is married to Charles Musgrove, a man of some means and a neighbor. Sir Walter is horrified when, on the advice of Lady Russell, a family friend and advisor (for good and ill), he is forced to retrench and reduce his lavish lifestyle. A vain and elitist man, Sir Walter cannot imagine living without his accustomed comforts but, with precious few options, the Elliots relocate to the spa town of Bath under (for them, at any rate) reduced circumstances and rent Kellynch Hall, their ancestral seat, to one Admiral and Mrs. Croft, well-mannered and wealthy Navy people who have a model marriage. Sir Walter is relieved that the Admiral is a good-looking man, although he generally dislikes that the Navy brings “men of obscure birth into undue distinction”; for all that, he is satisfied with the newfound tenants of his home. With this brief sketch at the beginning of her novel, Austen presents a gentle criticism of the lower aristocracy, with the elitist Sir Walter, who cannot manage his own affairs, looking down his nose on a man from the lower orders who has risen in the world through service to his country.

The heroine of this tale, the middle daughter Anne Elliot, is anxious about meeting the Crofts, as Mrs. Croft is the sister of Captain Frederick Wentworth, the suitor whom she spurned eight years previously; however, Lady Russell persuaded Anne to refuse him, as he wasn’t good enough for a family of her standing – and Anne has regretted it ever since. Leaving Anne to make final arrangements, Sir Walter, Elizabeth and Mrs. Clay – a widowed, somewhat lower-class hanger-on – leave for Bath; Anne then makes her way to Uppercross Cottage, the home her sister Mary shares with her husband and sons, Charles and Walter. It would appear that Mary is a hypochondriac, but Anne absorbs all of her complaints without comment. At the main house of Uppercross, Anne is delighted by her relations, the Musgroves: Mr. and Mrs. Musgrove, their son Charles (and Mary’s husband) and their daughters, Henrietta and Louisa. Anne can’t help but compare the warmth of the Musgroves vs the “dignity” of the Elliots and finds the latter lacking.

Soon it is learned that Captain Wentworth has returned from the Napoleonic Wars and is staying with his sister, Mrs. Croft. He soon makes friends with Mr. Musgrove and becomes a daily visitor at Uppercross; while Anne is anxious to see him again after so many years, his actions towards her are correct, if not cold. It soon becomes apparent that Wentworth is smitten with the Musgrove girls, and Anne can only reconcile herself to the idea that her love for him is futile, at best. One day, Wentworth proposes that they all travel to Lyme to visit Captain and Mrs. Harville, acquaintances of his, as well as Captain Benwick. While there, a good-looking gentleman takes notice of Anne, and the party later discovers that he is none other than their cousin Mr. William Elliot, Sir Walter’s heir to Kellynch Hall; although he is estranged from them due to a marriage he made in his youth, he is now a widower. As in so many of Austen’s books, the women within find themselves facing an uncertain future as the laws of the land declare that they cannot inherit their father’s property, and that it must all go to the nearest male heir.

The group head to the beach for a morning walk where Louisa Musgrove has a bad fall and is knocked unconscious. Out of everyone, it is Anne who keeps her head and does all she can for Louisa. Wentworth, Louisa’s erstwhile suitor (or so everyone suspects), blames himself for Louisa’s fall, as she was trying to impress him, and tries to help the Musgrove family during this calamitous time, while Anne returns to Uppercross to help Mr. and Mrs. Musgrove care for their younger children; the interactions between Anne and Wentworth during this untimely encounter being especially poignant, given their past history. A doctor soon determines that the girl will recover her wits in time, but that she will have to remain in Lyme for several months in order to do so. After a few weeks at Uppercross, Anne leaves to stay with Lady Russell, while Wentworth departs for parts unknown; it would appear that Anne and Frederick are as distant now as they were when they parted eight years previous. All of the interactions between Anne and her erstwhile suitor were, I found, melancholy, as Anne cannot help but reflect on her refusal all those years ago, while Wentworth cannot but remember his former love with resentment. How many of us have been through the same situation?

After Christmas, Lady Russell and Anne rejoin the rest of the Elliot family in Bath, much to Anne’s dismay, for neither her father nor her sister, Elizabeth, pay her much mind for all their talk of how happy they are to see her. She once again encounters her cousin, Mr. Elliot, who has healed the breach with his uncle and Anne’s father, Sir Walter. Anne cannot help but see that her cousin is an affable and pleasing man who flatters and praises her at every opportunity, although she can’t help but question the motive behind his reconciliation. Whilst in Bath, Anne looks up an old acquaintance, Mrs. Smith, a recent widow who has fallen on hard times. Anne learns from her friend that not only does Mr. Elliot seek to make Anne his wife, but that his lifestyle is a sham, as he lives on borrowed credit; worse, he was a veritable monster towards his deceased wife and only wants Anne to ensure his inheritance, for he fears that Sir Walter will marry Mrs. Clay, have a son and, thereby, deprive him of his title. He plots to ensure that he will remain Sir Walter’s heir. Anne is appalled to hear this news.

The Crofts arrive in Bath with news of two engagements; Henrietta will marry her cousin Charles Hayter, and Louisa will marry Captain Benwick, the man she met at Lyme while she was convalescing. Anne is overjoyed that Captain Wentworth is not promised to Louisa and is free once again. Captain Wentworth soon arrives in Bath, now a much richer man than he was eight years ago, and Sir Walter reluctantly admits him into their social circle. Wentworth grows jealous because he believes Anne is attached to her cousin Mr. Elliot. Yet he writes Anne a love letter in which is describes his true, constant and undying love for her. Anne is thrilled and they become engaged. Mr. Elliot is shocked that his plan to marry Anne has been foiled, and so he and Mrs. Clay leave Bath together, evidently as a couple. Sir Walter and Lady Russell at last give their approval for the marriage between Anne and Captain Wentworth, and the book ends with this thwarted couple, at last, finding one another.

One could argue that Persuasion is, at heart, a story of second chances, for Anne and Frederick of course – as they rediscover one another – for Sir Walter and the Elliots – as they retrench and start over – and even for the many minor characters: Louisa and Captain Benwick and, perhaps, one might argue, for Mr. Elliot and Mrs. Clay (okay, this is maybe a stretch). But it is Anne and Frederick who are at the center of the tale and their story that drives the plot, expressed best, perhaps, by the Captain when he states in his letter to Anne, “Dare not say that man forgets sooner that woman, that his love has an earlier death”. In his letter he tells her about how even though she almost broke his heart eight and a half years earlier, he still loves her and has been doing everything for her. He never lets go of his love for Anne and ends up marrying her, at last. It is, at end, a classic romantic tale, in which love conquers all and those who are meant to be together find one another at last. And isn’t that the romantic tale everyone has about themselves?

“God’s Secretaries: The Making of the King James Bible”, by Adam Nicolson

 

336 pages, HarperCollins Publishers, ISBN-13: 978-0060838737

If you read Adam Nicolson’s God’s Secretaries: The Making of the King James Bible expecting a comprehensive history of the writing of…the King James Bible, you will be disappointed. And that’s perhaps the best thing I can say about this book. For some of the worst things I can say, well, first there’s the quotes: all of them – and I do mean ALL – are from original 17^th Century sources and are, thus, quoted in original 17^th Century spelling; furthermore, if the person in question being quoted is a 17^th Century Scotsman well then by God (heh) he will be quoted as a 17^th Century Scotsman. This all but makes whole swaths of the book virtually unreadable. Nicolson also never misses an opportunity to take the scenic route on his way to making a point. A common pattern throughout God’s Secretaries consists of Nicolson attempting to say “Person ‘X’ and Person ‘Y’ collaborated on such-and-such”; but the way in which Nicolson does it is to break up the narrative with page after page of biography of both Person ‘X’ and Person ‘Y’, which is fine if you want to learn about everyday Jacobean life but not if you want to learn about the writing of the friggin’ King James Bible!

Overall, the whole book reads rather like a term paper that’s being padded to make the professor’s minimum word count. Perhaps this is because Nicolson was in a tight spot, as very few written records about the writing of the King James Bible in fact have survived, owing to the secret nature of the process and a fire that wiped out many records from the reign of King James. And so what you get are a series of vignettes about the Jacobean era – some of which are even related to the King James Bible! – along with tangents about anything remotely Jacobean that has anything to do with the Bible, just to run the page count up to something appropriate for a full length book instead of the pamphlet this could’ve been. So we get thirty pages or so on the Pilgrims going to America, another twenty in the middle that are just a restatement of the twenty pages near the beginning, around fifteen or so of pictures of the translators, ten-to-fifteen on Shakespeare (including a section on how King Lear is the “opposite” of the King James Bible. Huh?). Oh, and I hope you like the word “Jacobean” because it gets used about, oh, a million times, several times a page in some cases – along with “richness” and “marvelous”, too.

Perhaps this all could have been forgiven if the presentation was clearer: I mean, God’s Secretaries isn’t organized chronologically, or by whom translated what, or by topic, or any other rational system one could devise. This disorganization leads to the restatement of information several times over the course of the book, which adds to the impression that Nicolson was just running the page count up or, at the very least, published a draft of the book that hadn’t been run by a proper editor. So God’s Secretaries is one big disappointment, being not so much a history of the writing of the King James Bible – its ostensible subject – but rather a treatise on Jacobean (that word again) architecture, long excerpts in archaic dialogue from books and letters of the time, basic history lessons on King James and the like. What a waste.

“A World at Arms: A Global History of World War II”, by Gerhard L. Weinberg

 

1208 pages, Cambridge University Press, ISBN-13: 978-0521853163

Forewarned is forearmed: A World at Arms: A Global History of World War II by Gerhard L. Weinberg is for serious students of World War II and should be read only by those fairly familiar with the general outline of the war; any amateur will quickly get lost in Weinberg’s labyrinth of facts and details. Be forewarned as well about the author’s (many) prejudices: while, generally speaking, his overall tone is dispassionate, without question his bile is raised at the Axis and their apologists, but he is also no friend of Montgomery (one thing I don’t fault him on), generally treats the British military with scorn (a nagging and, mostly, undeserved contempt) and positively seems to hate Wehrmacht generals for covering up atrocities they did not disapprove of (as well he should) but also for writing “self-serving memoirs” (as though memoirs could be anything else than self-serving. Dude. They’re memoirs and are necessarily one-sided).

For all that A World at Arms is one of the best single-volume histories of World War II I’ve ever read. Weinberg’s strengths are in analyzing the global strategy (or lack thereof) of the various participants and the interrelationship of disparate theaters, and he does a great job of interweaving the developments taking place on the more obscure fronts - think Finland, or Sub-Saharan Africa, or India - and the behavior of the neutral powers - Spain, Sweden, Turkey and others - into the overall narrative (he is particularly good on Soviet-Japanese relations, and his use of Japanese diplomatic sources commenting on the war in Europe is fascinating). Weinberg mostly sticks to grand strategy and doesn’t try to recreate the experience of war, either on the battlefield or the home front; he also eschews biographical sketches of the major figures, perhaps assuming that they are already sufficiently familiar, although I, for one, could have used a memorable quotations or two from a world leader or even a foot soldier to humanize and enliven the narrative.

I do, however, have some concerns with Weinberg’s writing: when he makes a point he can’t help but make it again…and again. And again (seriously, at times he’s like a Rottweiler on a poodle); for instance, to use but one example of the many I could have chosen, he repeatedly derides the supposed success of Germany’s aerial rearmament in the 1930s by pointing out that Germany was eventually bombed to bits, a marginal argument and not one that needs to be repeated in each summary of developments in the air war. Another problem is the maps, for the Cambridge University Press has decided to supply the most basic versions to be found that are not only difficult to read but lacking in detail; to add to their noisomeness, they have tucked them all at the back when interspersing them throughout the text would, I believe, made them more relevant.

Ah, well, don’t let any of that scare you off. A World at Arms is an excellent addition to any library and a fine adornment for any collection on World War II.