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1088 pages, Hardcover
First published October 11, 1965
While from a proud tower in the town
Death looks gigantically down
The City in the Sea 鈥� Poe.
Channel Firing
BY THOMAS HARDY
That night your great guns, unawares,
Shook all our coffins as we lay,
And broke the chancel window-squares,
We thought it was the Judgment-day
And sat upright. While drearisome
Arose the howl of wakened hounds:
The mouse let fall the altar-crumb,
The worms drew back into the mounds,
The glebe cow drooled. Till God called, 鈥淣o;
It鈥檚 gunnery practice out at sea
Just as before you went below;
The world is as it used to be:
鈥淎ll nations striving strong to make
Red war yet redder. Mad as hatters
They do no more for Christ茅s sake
Than you who are helpless in such matters.
鈥淭hat this is not the judgment-hour
For some of them鈥檚 a blessed thing,
For if it were they鈥檇 have to scour
Hell鈥檚 floor for so much threatening....
鈥淗a, ha. It will be warmer when
I blow the trumpet (if indeed
I ever do; for you are men,
And rest eternal sorely need).鈥�
So down we lay again. 鈥淚 wonder,
Will the world ever saner be,鈥�
Said one, 鈥渢han when He sent us under
In our indifferent century!鈥�
And many a skeleton shook his head.
鈥淚nstead of preaching forty year,鈥�
My neighbour Parson Thirdly said,
鈥淚 wish I had stuck to pipes and beer.鈥�
Again the guns disturbed the hour,
Roaring their readiness to avenge,
As far inland as Stourton Tower,
And Camelot, and starlit Stonehenge.
April, 1914
We are about to embark on a great quest. That is to explore a world at war.
Of course we speak of World War I, which would come to be known as World War I. It is not only that we seek to explore that world and war, but to attempt to understand why it happened, what brought it about.
Not only should we seek to understand what brought it about we must be aware that we seek to do all these things regarding a world that existed one hundred years ago that went to war in 1914 and did not return to a state of uneasy peace until 1918. And in attempting to understand what surprised the world as the greatest conflagration the world to that point had ever witnessed, it becomes necessary to know what the world was like.
Who were the people who lived there. How did they live, what did they do. Nor can we begin to understand the hellish waterspout that sucked so many nations into the depths of seas tinged with blood without understanding that it was not merely a world of politics or property but a world of art, music, dance, and philosophy.
These are the conflicting aspects of culture that are inconsistent with the idea of war. The attempt to put these seemingly impossible inconsistencies together can bring about a great distubance of the human spirit that a world capable of music as beautiful as "The Rites of Spring," clashing with the quivering chords rising into a crescendo of horns that might sound the trumpets of doom, based on the writings of a man who died, mad, in an asylum, but whose philosophy was adopted by a nation as its theme, acknowledging the right, the need of exerting its power over whole nations out of a sense of nationalist fervor.
Such things are of the type that enter our dreams and become our nightmares as we sense the end of one world and the beginning of another. It is as though we are walking as somnambulists in a world unknown to us. For it is unknown to us. We must be capable of forgetting, unlearning the modern world of which we consider ourselves to be a part.
This is a journey that requires a guide. Just as Aligheri required a guide into the Inferno we must have our own Virgil. It is highly likely that we will find the need of a Beatrice for the war we will eventually explore was not a paradise, but a Hell as fiery as the first book of The Human Comedy.
As we speak of Virgil we must think of a world of epic stature, that grew as great as Rome and fell just as surely as Rome. In one way we are traveling through a world as ancient to us as we would consider a symbol of its literature, the Aeneid. In his journeys from the sacked city of Troy, Aeneas met and fell in love with the Queen of the Carthaginians, Dido. And Virgil commented that a nation should be ruled by a woman to be so foreign to his people he had to document "Dux femina facti" which means the leader of the thing was a woman.
So our guide is no Virgil. Our guide is a woman, Barbara Tuchman. And as it once was, once again "Dux femina facit."
To be continued...January 30, 2014.
Our Guide
Barbara Tuchman was born Barbara Wertheimer, January 30, 1912, the daughter of prominent banker Maurice Wertheimer. Well that didn't take long. Interrupted. 2/5/2014
While from a proud tower in the townThis is the second time I've read The Proud Tower, which remains the classical study of the long, slow march to the War To End All Wars.
Death looks gigantically down.
鈥楾he proud tower built up through the great age of European civilization was an edifice of grandeur and passion, of riches and beauty and dark cellars. Its inhabitants lived, as compared to a later time, with more self-reliance, more confidence, more hope; greater magnificence, extravagance and elegance; more careless ease, more gaiety, more pleasure in each other鈥檚 company and conversation, more injustice and hypocrisy, more misery and want, more sentiment including false sentiment, less sufferance of mediocrity, more dignity in work, more delight in nature, more zest. The Old World had much that has since been lost, whatever may have been gained.鈥�Even if you only read a few of the fascinating topics* in this excellent book, you will learn more than from any other history book on this era.
...the differences between the worker and the intellectual was ineradicable in socialism. Organized Socialism bore the name Workingmen's Association but in fact it was never any such thing. It was a movement not of, but on behalf of, the working class, and the distinctions remained basic. Although it spoke for the worker and made his wants articulate, goals and doctrine were set, and thought, energy and leadership largely supplied by, intellectuals. The working class was both client and...necessary instrument of the Overthrow of capitalism. As such it appeared as Hero; it was sentimentalized. . .[The working class] was neither all one thing nor the other;. . .The working class was no more of a piece than any other class. Socialist doctrine, however, required it to be an entity with a working-class mind, working-class voice, working-class will, working-class purpose. In fact, these were not easily ascertainable. The Socialist idealized them and to be idealized is to be overestimated.This last chapter focuses on the Socialist movement in the West, in-particular the Second International and the French socialist Jean Jaur猫s. We see how the German and British governments attempt to co-opt the Socilaist in their country succeeds--especially in Germany which had established Europe's first Welfare State under Bismark's premiership. German socialism becomes increasingly nationalistic while French socialism tries to moderate between Marxism and nationalism. Jaur猫s tries his best to be the international peace-maker of socialism, but its undercut by those two -isms: nationalism and racism. He was ever the idealist, but as Clemenceau said, it was Jaur猫s' fate "to preach the brotherhood of nations with such unswerving faith...that he was not daunted by the brutal reality of facts." As this chapter is titled "The Death of Jaur猫s" things don't get better. As the meetings of the Second International accomplish little (other than confirming the First International's banning of the anarchist) when WWI starts Jaur猫s is assassinated by a French nationalist after the last meeting of the Second International and the next day French soldiers are headed to the front
The red day dawned when the tinder was lighted in the Balkans and Austro-Hungary seized a bit which brought her a step nearer to the world's highway; she seized one bit and poised herself for another. Then came that curious chorus of challenges, those leaping suspicions, raking all causes for distrust and rivalry and hatred, but saying little of the real and greatest cause. Each nation felt its deep interests involved. But how? Not, surely, in the death of Ferdinand the Warlike; not, surely, in the old, half-forgotten revanche for Alsace-Lorraine; not even in the neutrality of Belgium. No! But in the possession of land overseas, in the right to colonies, the chance to levy endless tribute on the darker world,鈥攐n coolies in China, on starving peasants in India, on black savages in Africa, on dying South Sea Islanders, on Indians of the Amazon鈥攁ll this and nothing more.Though Tuchman, writing as she was during the Civil Rights Movement, may not be quoting Du Bois her look at how nationalism and antisemitism (she makes one oblique reference to the genocide in Namibia that was carried-out by Germany) certainly points to where Du Bois was going. 19th century idealism simply could not keep-up with the reality of the 20th century.
Its inhabitants lived, as compared to a later time, with more self-reliance, more confidence, more hope; greater magnificence, extravagance and elegance; more careless ease, more gaiety, more pleasure in each other鈥檚 company and conversation, more injustice and hypocrisy, more misery and want, more sentiment including false sentiment, less sufferance of mediocrity, more dignity in work, more delight in nature, more zest.