Friday, September 7, 2018

“Chronicle of the Chinese Emperors: The Reign-by-Reign Record of the Rulers of Imperial China”, by Ann Paludan


224 pages, Thames & Hudson, ISBN-13: 978-0500050903

I must really have a thing for these “Chronicle” books, seeing as Ann Paludan’s Chronicle of the Chinese Emperors: The Reign-by-Reign Record of the Rulers of Imperial China is the fourth of these things that I have done so for (the others being Chronicle of the Roman Republic, Chronicle of the Roman Emperors and Chronicle of the Russian Tsars…in case you were wondering, as you no doubt were). Perhaps it is for that reason that I find myself somewhat disappointed by this entry in the series. Perhaps it has to do with the complexity of the subject matter and the politics of the Chinese Imperial Court itself, but I found the book jumping from reign to reign describing many of the emperors with only a sentence or two. Furthermore, it seemed like the book spent more time talking about the other players in court life rather than the emperor himself. Ah, well: given the dearth of good English language books on Chinese history that are meant for the general public, it is refreshing to find a book tackling this area; however, it is all but impossible to cover all of the emperors of China in her 3,000 years of history in just over 200 pages, so this book is really only suitable as an introduction, as are all of these “Chronicle” books.

My final complaint with the book is that it would talk about other players in court life or politics without introducing them or putting their role in context: for example, the book often says something such as “following the death of Emperor X, Mr. Y was able to place the infant son of so-and-so on the throne where thereafter Mr. Y dominated Chinese government for the next 50 years”, but then say nothing more about the emperor or Mr. Y and the book would just jump to the next emperor. I can understand that it is beyond the scope of the book, but over and over the author points out that often the power behind the throne was a woman but then never really describes the woman or how she came to exert such influence. Overall I enjoyed the book very much, but the text seemed to raise many questions and skip around. As a result, after I finished the book I felt I knew less about the Chinese Emperors than I did the Roman Emperors or Russian Tsars after reading those books. In spite of the faults I found with the book, it was still an enjoyable book to read and the pictures were interesting.

Thursday, September 6, 2018

“Tales of the Old World”, edited by Marc Gascoigne and Christian Dunn


768 pages, The Black Library, ISBN-13: 978-1844164523

Tales of the Old World, edited by Marc Gascoigne and Christian Dunn, is a collection of thirty-six short stories set in Games Workshops’ Fantasy Warhammer setting. While I really dig the Warhammer 40K universe, the original Warhammer thing just doesn’t move me as much. It could be that I’m still enamored of the old D&D franchise from eons back (I still remember the old starter set my brother Rob bought for my brother Tom ages ago…now THAT’S fantasy wargaming, damint!). Perhaps it is also because my expectations of Black Library fantasy publications are not great: the stories vary widely in quality, ranging from badly written hack’n’slash cliché stuff, to some nice tales of mystery, horror, and adventure. The purpose of these stories is to expand the background and nuance of the Warhammer world, but they are also to entertain and, as far as I’m concerned, they’ve mostly succeeded. For that, and for the fact it’s set in a fantasy world many of us have come to know and love, Tales of the Old World on the whole is worth reading. That being said, this collection really contains only two top-tier stories – “Who Mourns a Necromancer” and “Totentanz” – both of which have to them far more philosophical depth than one could expect in a Black Library publication or, indeed, in many highbrow books we see nowadays, dealing as they do with the way life and death interact and in unique manners that leaves the reader with a lot of food for thought (“Totentanz” in particular begins as a humorous satire of fantasy clichés but ends like a black comedy, leaving the reader depressed and bewildered). You should read these two stories, even if you have no interest in the rest of the collection.

Friday, August 31, 2018

“A People’s Tragedy: A History of the Russian Revolution”, by Orlando Figes


923 pages, Viking, ISBN-13: 978-0670859160

Radical Leftists the world over seem to taken to heart the old maxim “you can’t make an omelet without breaking eggs”, only substitute the word “omelet” with “revolution” and the word “eggs” with “people” and you get their worldview…and there haven’t been many bigger omelets than the Russian Revolution. Throughout A People’s Tragedy: A History of the Russian Revolution, author Orlando Figes explores many of the underlying components that made the Russian Revolution of 1917 possible: How did it occur? What factors helped the revolutionary movement take root in tsarist Russia? Can the Revolution trace its origins to one single person or event? Was the Revolution avoidable? Finally, and perhaps most importantly, what was the Russian Revolution’s most enduring impact and legacy? Figes begins his work by taking us back a good two decades before it began before bringing us up to Lenin’s death, about a decade afterward; the advantage of this perspective is that it gives the reader an historical context for the events that eventually brought down centuries of tsarist rule and raised up the Bolsheviks (the obvious disadvantage being that a certain amount of detail is unavoidably lost). Still, for a one-volume treatment of the subject, you can't go wrong with this book. Comprehensive and informed, it is a generally lively read, as history books go.

Using a “bottom-up” style analysis, Figes makes the point that the Russian Revolution was not an elite-driven event like most uprisings throughout the course of human history, but rather a true revolution of the people, one in which common, ordinary individuals revolted and systematically dismantled the social, political, and economic underpinnings of Tsarist Russia. Because the Russian revolutionaries understood the concept that power exists in numbers, Figes argues that many of the Bolsheviks turned to the Russian people as a means of inflicting greater damage on Tsar Nicholas II’s regime. According to Figes the Bolshevik revolution was an idealistic concept that was doomed to fail when applied by, and applied to, imperfect human beings; the result was the transformation of innocent idealism into totalitarian terror. This is, I think, giving too much credit – to say nothing of humanity – to the revolutionaries who directed the slaughter of all opposition. Be warned: if you are a committed commie then chances are you’ll find yourself opposing the tone of this book; if, however, you are a dedicated anticommunist I think that it will suit you better, but Figes sympathy towards the more genuinely committed communists will probably aggravate your intolerance. For all that Figes comes off about as fair and balanced as a thinking individual with the capacity for informed judgment can be.

Figes tries to balance the personalities, the politics and the events of the Revolution to bring it to life without sacrificing facts. It is a compelling period filled with fascinating characters: the Russian statesman and the first post-imperial prime minister of Russia, Prince Georgy Yevgenyevich Lvov; the Last Emperor of Russia, Czar Nicholas II; the Russian and Soviet writer and founder of the socialist realism, Alexei Maximovich Peshkov, better known by the alias Maxim Gorky; the “Mad Monk”, Grigori Yefimovich Rasputin; the communist revolutionary, politician and political theorist, Vladimir Ilyich Ulyanov, better known by the alias Lenin; the revolutionary, theorist and Soviet politician, Lev Davidovich Bronstein, better known by the alias Leon Trotsky; the last non-Communist leader of Russia before 1989, Alexander Fyodorovich Kerensky; and that’s just scratching the surface. With so many individuals taking a stand against the Tsarist government, traditional Russian society quickly imploded as the weakness of Nicholas II and his centralized government structure gave way to overwhelming rebellions and revolts driven by the Russian people. Figes, not quite agreeing with the Marxist/Hegelian view that men don’t make history, effectively shows the importance of the personalities of the Revolution’s cast of characters and how a different man in the same place at the same time could have easily changed everything; when millions of people rallied to the Bolshevik cause, Nicholas and his regime simply could not resist the popular front that emerged to challenge his rule, thus guaranteeing a seizure of power by the Communists.

As Figes goes to great pains to point out, however, this “movement of the people” did not result in positive changes for Russians: during the several decades that followed their seizure of power, the inchoate Communist regime implemented sweeping changes into Russian society that killed millions of people and resulted in the destruction of entire communities; thus, as the title of Figes’ book implies, the Russian Revolution was one of tragedy and loss, not victory and gain. Although it was a revolution truly born out of the participation, wishes, and desires of the Russian people themselves, it was a revolution that, ultimately, destroyed and consumed its own people in the end. The Russian Revolution was a catastrophic failure in that it exchanged a bad system of government for one that was far worse and evil than its predecessor; it was truly a “people’s tragedy” in that its origins and causes lie with the common people who made it possible for the Bolsheviks to usurp power and control away from the Tsar. A People’s Tragedy is essential reading to understand how and why the Soviet experiment degenerated into the nightmare. With so much talk lately about America’s turn towards socialism and the rising level of vitriolic and polarizing discontent with our government, Figes’ book offers unexpected contemporary insight into the dynamics of political and social change that should give us all pause. Even if we are condemned to repeat the past because we cannot remember it, at least we can be prepared.