“German History Since 1800”, edited by Mary Fulbrook

616 pages, Arnold, ISBN-13: 978-0340692004

In 1800, there was no “Germany” as we think of a unitary nation state today. Still nominally held together under the framework of the Holy Roman Empire, its political shape and boundaries were in a state of flux. Over the course of the following two centuries, Germany went through massive transformations, and German History Since 1800 is a collection of academic essays that brings together an international team of distinguished scholars to produce an innovative and accessible guide to the controversial course of modern German history. Exploring the main issues in social, economic, cultural and political history, the book reflects the diversity and liveliness of the field, while a wealth of tables, maps and illustrations provides points of entry to key issues for students and scholars alike. But this is not a typical school textbook that seeks to provide some kind of a grand narrative of German history, but rather these essays gathered here each explore the themes of continuity and change, structures and ruptures in German history. Together, the contributors offer a broad picture of the political, economic, social and cultural history of Germany’s 20^th Century while exploring some of the most important historiographical issues in a manner accessible to upper-level undergraduate students. Good stuff, man.

“To Rule the Waves: How the British Navy Shaped the Modern World”, by Arthur Herman

672 pages, Harper, ISBN-13: 978-0060534240

The tone and approach of Arthur Herman’s To Rule the Waves: How the British Navy Shaped the Modern World can best be encapsulated by the subtitle of an earlier book of his, How the Scots Invented the Modern World (reviewed on May 6^th, 2017): The True Story of How Western Europe’s Poorest Nation Created Our World & Everything in It. Then, we were told that the Scots did…EVERYTHING; now, we’re told that every significant development of the past 500 years was instigated or controlled by the Royal Navy (well, damnit, which is it?!). Much of Herman’s gallant attempt at a one-volume history of the Royal Navy and its impact on world history is informative and well done, with the narrative covering the 17^th and 18^th Centuries – in which the service reached the pinnacle of its power and influence at home and on the seas – being especially informative. He also offers a plethora of insightful observations, such as, *ahem*, “It is only when we look backward that history assumes a predictable pattern. Viewed the other way around, as it is lived, it abounds in inexplicable turns and strange surprises”. Quite.

Did you already think Napoleon was brought down above all by the naval blockade? That Hitler’s greatest error was not seizing the Suez Canal instead of Russia? That Mers-el-Kébir was the war’s great turning point? Herman shoots these strategic theses from the hip, and it is here that his combining strategic analysis with good storytelling really shines through; it must be said, however, that certain terms and concepts may sometimes be hard for the novice to follow (just what is the difference between “windward” and “leeward” again?). Perhaps the most enjoyable aspect of To Rule the Waves is its keen elucidation of Royal Navy culture and its mutuality with British culture in general (Churchill once called the navy’s old staples “rum, sodomy, and the lash”; Herman refutes these charges one by one, convincing us that British sailors were neither abused or dissolute). No, it is Tradition that drove the Royal Navy: of England’s sea-faring West Country – the “nursery of empire” – which over 15 generations produced some of their most notable seamen, as is England’s sense of Protestant chosenness, its belief in itself as the elect nation, certainly fueled self-confidence on the waves. So too did English individuality: while French officers sailed “by the book” even unto foreseeable doom, British captains would “muddle through” to victory. From Sir Francis Drake down to the amphibious forces that rescued the Falkland Islands, Herman sees an indomitable continuity, defending the empire wherever it is defensible and damning it for its shortcomings, for while Britain’s trade with the new world was built on the shipment of slaves and its most lucrative product was extracted from sugarcane by those slaves, no nation banned slavery on its home soil as early as Britain (in 1770) and no other nation went on to stamp out the slave trade worldwide, which feat the Royal Navy accomplished.

But, sadly, all is not well with To Rule the Waves, as it would appear that Herman has succumbed to what too many historians before him have, namely, that the Battle of Trafalgar is the climax of the story of the Royal Navy, and that Horatio Nelson is the ultimate Royal Navy hero and that all that occurred afterwards is merely tying up loose ends. His analysis of the two World Wars is especially shoddy, as when he presents an already outdated and disproven theory regarding German strategy, giving Großadmiral Alfred von Tirpitz credit for strategies which he never developed, let alone implemented on the high seas. The author’s presentation of Jutland can best be described as superficial, and nowhere does he go into depth about the various German and British strategies and strategic necessities which brought the battle about in the first place. His treatment of the Second World War is even sketchier (I, for one, got the feeling that he was just trying to get the damn thing over with; I know I was). There is no examination of how the naval war influenced the land campaigns, or of how the particular strengths and weaknesses of the Royal Navy from 1939 to 1945 often dictated how and where the Allies could and would fight. As for the decisive campaign of the war – that would be the Battle of the Atlantic, class – Herman all but dismisses it in a handful of paragraphs, when in point of fact it had to be factored into every strategic decision the Allies made until well after D-Day.

But don’t be put off: for all that To Rule the Waves is an excellent one-volume history of one of history’s grandest, most powerful and far-reaching military organizations ever seen that manages to be engaging, fun and highly informative. Whether you are interested in a major part of England’s history, naval history or just looking for a good read, this book is bound to keep the wind in your sails.

“Dune”, by Frank Herbert

533 pages, Berkley Medallion, ISBN-13: 978-0425080023

I first read Dune (and the whole series for that matter) several years ago. While the first book is the best known and the best written of the series, don’t let that stop you from reading all of the sequels, as well (more on those in future posts). Like all good SciFi, Dune presents you with the customs and attitudes of the present in completely different surroundings that seem to come out of present-day situations. Dune is a complex and fascinating novel: at first glance, it seems to be simply a very imaginative adventure story – and it’s a great read even if that's all you ever get out of it. However, Dune is much more than just an adventure; it’s an analogy, from a writer who was very concerned with ecological issues, for societal over-dependence on a single substance and the ways such dependence skews the structure and character of that society.

The value of a commodity is directly related to its abundance: here, water covers 2/3rds of the planet, but how much more value would it hold for us if it were as hard to get as gold or oil? Dune shows us just what life might be like in such a place; furthermore, the Dune series devotes considerable attention to exploring the messianic dilemma, and as you venture through the original six-book series, this theme becomes a central issue, the seeds of which, naturally, are sown by Paul Muad’Dib on Dune. These are the levels upon which Dune can be read that occur after only a few readings of the book, for it is one of those rare reading experiences that improves each time you return to it: every subsequent journey – as it can only be called – through the Universe that includes Arrakis, Dune, desert planet, yields a richer, more satisfying experience. Dune, simply put, is the premier example of the speculative fiction genre.