Category: Reviews Page 8 of 21

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Dieser Eintrag ist auch auf Deutsch verfügbar.

In a similar vein to Dava Sobel’s Longitude, Nathaniel’s Nutmeg revolves around the story of one of history’s largely invisible protagonists. Whilst this isn’t history on the same scale, it sits very nicely with something E. P. Thompson said, about rescuing characters “from the enormous condescension of posterity.” The major characters in this book will be unknown to most people, as will most of the events, but their importance for the modern world will be clear to everyman.

The book’s title is, however, a complete misnomer. The subject matter is very ambitious, dealing with the spice trade and the age of navigation, including forays in the Americas, attempts to find passages to the Indies via the Arctic Ocean, and all of the misadventures, wars, successes and political intrigues of the English and Dutch East India companies. Ultimately, Milton’s premise with the book is to tie the exploits of the English East India Company officer Nathaniel Courthope in with the fate of New Amsterdam/New York, but by trying to cover this from all angles, the book is left feeling rather thin and superficial. In the end, the titular Nathaniel makes only a relatively brief appearance near the end of the book, all the space that was left to deal with the book’s allegedly main focus. Finally, with such a broad range, the book throws up many interesting questions about the companies, their officers, the spice trade etc., most of which remain unfortunately unanswered, despite its near 400 pages.

Despite these setbacks, the book does have its strengths. It is clearly very well researched, and despite the relative paucity of sources available to fill in the gaps, the author avoids the obvious temptation to speculate wildly. As a piece of decidedly ‘popular’ history, the book is structured like a page-turner, with hints and references dropped to tease the reader into the coming chapters, focusing on a history driven by characters and concrete events, which makes it an easy book for reading on the go or with other distractions. And although the subject matter is really too broad for a book of this size, Milton does at least concentrate solely on the Dutch and English adventures, paying relatively little attention to Portuguese and Spanish goings on at the same time.

Nathaniel’s Nutmeg is a pleasant and interesting diversion, particularly for people whose interest would not normally be piqued the idea by a history book. It is clear that a good deal of research has gone into the book, and the breadth of the subject matter makes this no light task. Yet the impression left is one akin to scoffing fast food empty calories; in order to tie Couthorpe to New York, the author has chosen too broad a subject matter for so short a book, leaving the text too shallow and unfocused. A different title, a less ambitious aim, or a more vigilant editor, and this book could have been an all the more satisfying read.

Nathaniel’s Nutmeg: How One Man’s Courage Changed the Course of History

By Fips

On 14th August 2012

In Books, Reviews

This entry is also available in English.

In ähnlicher Weise zu Dava Sobels Buch „Longitude“ dreht sich im „Nathaniel’s Nutmeg“ alles um die Erfahrungen eines der unsichtbarsten Protagonisten der Geschichte. Obwohl es sich um die Geschichte eines kleineren Maßstabes handelt, stimmt das Ziel des Werks überragend mit einem Zitat des Historikers E. P. Thompson überein, geschichtliche Figuren „from the enormous condescension of posterity“ zu retten. Die Hauptakteure dieses Buches werden den meisten Lesern unbekannt, sowie viele der Ereignisse, dennoch bleibt deren Auswirkung für die Gegenwart für jeden ersichtlich.

Doch der Titel dieses Buches ist meiner Meinung nach komplett misslungen. Das Werk ist sehr ambitiös im Umfang und beschäftigt sich mit dem Gewürzhandel und der Segelschiffära, mitsamt Abschweifungen über die Amerikas und die Versuche, die Nordwestpassage durch den arktischen Ozean und dadurch einen kürzeren Seeweg nach Ostindien zu finden, sowie den Kriegen, den Erfolgen und den politischen Machenschaften der englischen und niederländischen Ostindien-Kompanien. Im Grunde versucht Milton mit diesem Buch die Heldentaten von einem Offizier der englischen Ostindien-Kompanie namens Nathaniel Courthorpe mit dem Schiksal Neuamsterdams/New Yorks zu verbinden. Jedoch bleibt dieser Versuch etwas oberflächlich und mager, dadurch, dass er sein Leben aus jedem Blickwinkel zu betrachten versucht. Im Endeffekte erscheint der namensgebende Nathaniel nur flüchtig am Ende des Buches. Mehr Platz hat der Autor dem angeblichen Hauptthema nicht einräumen können. Schließlich wirft das Buch jede Menge interessante Fragen auf, durch seine umschweifende Behandlung der Gesellschaften, deren Offiziere und des Gewürzhandels usw. Trotz der fast 400 Seiten bleiben diese Fragen jedoch leider größtenteils unbeantwortet.

Trotz dieser Mankos ist das Werk nicht ohne Stärken. Der Autor hat die Geschichte trotz der mangelnden Quellenlage offensichtlich sehr sorgfältig recherchiert, und man muss ihm auch hoch anrechnen, dass er der Versuchung widerstanden hat, in Hinblick auf die etwas dürftigen Beweise wild darüber zu spekulieren. Da die Zielgruppe dieses Buches unter dem Fußvolk zu finden ist, ist es wie ein Schmöker aufgebaut, mit vielen Deutungen auf spätere Kapitel, die den Leser durch das Buch locken und begleiten. Die Charaktere und die Ereignisse stellen die Kulissen dar, so dass es auch für unterwegs ein geeignetes Buch ist, das man mit vielen Unterbrechungen und Ablenkungen leicht lesen kann. Trotzdem, dass der Stoff für ein Buch dieser Länge eigentlich zu breitgefächert ist, konzentriert sich Milton zumindest lediglich auf die holländischen und englischen Abenteuer, und schenkt dem zur gleichen Zeit stattfindenden portugiesischen und spanischen Treiben wenig Platz.

„Nathaniel’s Nutmeg“ ist eine kurzweilige und interessante Lektüre, die auch für Leute geeignet ist, für die die Geschichte normalerweise kein Interesse weckt. Dank der ausgiebigen Recherchen ist das Buch sehr informativ, auch wenn des Buches Gegenstand eigentlich zu groß ist. Trotzdem hinterlässt das Buch ein Gefühl ähnlich dem eines Abends in einem chinesischen Restaurant: Bald nach dem Verzehr hat man wieder einen leeren Magen. In seinem Versuch, das Schicksal New Yorks mit der Lebensbahn Couthorpes in Verbindung zu bringen, hat Milton einen Stoff ausgesucht, dem er in diesem Werk einfach nicht gerecht werden konnte, und somit bleibt die Botschaft irgendwie seicht und unkonzentriert. Anders betitelt, mit einem weniger anspruchsvollen Ziel oder einem strengeren Redakteur wäre dieses Buch eine umso befriedigende Lektüre geworden.

Mouse or Rat?: Translation as Negotiation

By Fips

On 13th August 2012

In Books, Languages, Reviews, Translation

Whilst I can’t claim to have had massive expectations from this book, the author’s reputation, experience, and the subject matter piqued my interest at first glance. This book is a collection of essays roughly sewn together reflecting the author’s personal experiences in the field of translation, either via conversations and experiences with translators and translations of his own works, or through translating by his own hand.

As a collection of personal reflections collected together in essay form, there are plenty of interesting and oft amusing anecdotes which Eco ties together to support his thesis of translation as a form of negotiation between cultures. Relying to a large extent on examples taken from the various translations of his own works, he illustrates how the idea of translation must be seen through the capacity of the medium. That is to say that a language provides only a limited resource, and one rooted in its culture, which makes the art of translation a constant battle, a question of compromise, of content and connotation, of rhyme and register, of familiarity and foreignness. Eco’s own works provide plenty of toothy work for the translator, which he here amply dissects and compares, and these are at times supplemented by no lesser fry than the likes of James Joyce’s Finnegans Wake, for example.

Eco’s thesis notwithstanding, there are problems with the book which for me detracted from its enjoyment. Firstly, as some other reviewers have pointed out, there are some pretty steep language requirements in order to really be able to fully understand many of Eco’s examples. Italian is, naturally, the most often quoted language, along with French and Spanish as a Romanic trio of languages, and German crops up on occasion. In the case of the latter, there were a number of obvious mistakes in the book, which no doubt rest to a large extent on it not being one of Eco’s stronger suits. Indeed, although nominally a work exploring translation as a whole, the author’s own (albeit impressive) lingual skills narrows it down to an investigation of translation between Romance languages and English, with really very little mention of non-Indo-European languages or cultures, where far more interesting problems doubtless arise.

Another important detractor is that as the book is a compilation of essays based on a lecture series, rather than one contiguous treatise, there were numerous occasions where Eco repeated himself relatively excessively. One example which springs to mind is his quotation of W. V. Quine that a sentence such as “neutrinos lack mass” is for some languages of the world untranslatable, a quotation which crops up three or four times in different essays.

One final criticism, although this is certainly more a matter of taste, is that with all that brain power, Eco tends to write with a lot of hubris. Another commenter quoted an excellent line which I think sums it up nicely: “Sometimes I ask myself if by chance I write novels purely in order to put in hermetic references that are comprehensible only to me. I feel like a painter who, in a landscape, puts among the leaves of the trees – almost invisible – the initials of his beloved. And it does not matter if not even she is able to identify them.” For all the fascination that the subject of translation has to offer, discussing the translation of symbols invisible to everyone but the author is certainly the most abstract and esoteric topic the author could have chosen to concentrate on.

Ultimately this book offers a very interesting read, but only for the right, qualified reader. I should say a command of at least one Romance language is a must, as well as a reasonable familiarity with the field of translation. For the uninitiated, a more basic but also more thorough and elaborate investigation of the world of translation can be found in the recent Is That a Fish in Your Ear?: Translation and the Meaning of Everything.

The Grapes of Wrath

By Fips

On 18th July 2012

In Arts, Books, Literature, Reviews

A work born of the Great Depression, The Grapes of Wrath is surely one of the greatest, most powerful and important books in American literature. Focusing on a poor family of tenant farmers escaping the Dust Bowl of Oklahoma, Steinbeck set out with the express intention of shaming the people he held responsible for the plight of these losers of the Depression, and aimed quite simply to “rip a reader’s nerves to rags” with his tale. The Joad family sets out for California with their few remaining possessions, seeking work, land and new lives among the colourful orchards and vineyards of the western state, a veritable promised land. Instead they find further hardship, exploitation and abuse, labelled as ‘Okies’ and reds, welcome if they’re willing to work for a pittance, hounded should they try to make a living for themselves.

Very reminiscent of Upton Sinclair’s The Jungle, it’s easy to understand why the book was rewarded with so many accolades, and its author with the Nobel Prize for Literature. What sets the book apart from Sinclair’s style is the directness of Steinbeck’s writing. The family is full of quirky and unique characters, entirely believable, if slightly monochrome in flavour. Other readers have complained the book is divided rather obliquely into the ‘good’ and the ‘bad’, and whilst they make a reasonable point, this neither detracts from the overall message of the novel, nor prevents those characters from acting as the real driving force of the story. The heroes of the novel are true salt of the earth, which gives the book openness and accessibility: that Steinbeck writes their dialogue in their vernacular is a powerful motif.

Steinbeck intersperses his tale of the Joads with rather more artistic and morally or politically charged chapters covering the broader sweep of change facing America in the ’30s. In effect, the chapters intertwine the individual experiences of the Joad family with the macrocosmic overview of society in the Depression years. Steinbeck’s rather more loaded and overt statements appear in these segments, but he also allows his characters to speak for him, especially Tom Joad and the preacher.

The Grapes of Wrath is entirely deserving of its accolades, and its place on countless lists of best novels or works to read before you die. Some reviewers had difficulty persevering past the book’s opening, others found the vernacular language distracting, but generally speaking this is an extremely accessible novel which doesn’t require a great deal of background knowledge to be appreciated.

Citizen Soldiers: U.S. Army from the Normandy Beaches to the Bulge, to the Surrender of Germany, June 7, 1944 to May 7, 1945

By Fips

On 31st May 2012

In Books, Reviews

This is the only Stephen Ambrose book I’ve read, spurred on by recently rewatching Saving Private Ryan and Band Of Brothers. A look at the American soldiers in the European theatre from D-Day to the end of the war, the book is based on oodles of research and countless memoirs, oral and written, from the people who were actually there. It doesn’t go into the actual events of the war in any detail, so it would behoove readers to have some background knowledge, but Ambrose does a decent job of sketching out the general situation.

Technically, this book should have been easy to whole-heartedly recommend. Ambrose has sewn together an extremely important collection of memories, thoughts and feelings of the troops on the front lines of the last war, allowing the people who were actually there to tell their stories. Whilst some have criticised the relative paucity of attention to the other Allies, other theatres, the Germans etc., that is precisely because they fall outside this book’s remit. Concentrating on the written and oral memories of US soldiers, Ambrose nevertheless weaves them into the course of the war, so even people relatively unfamiliar with events on the Western front should not get lost.

One particular strength of the book is its organisation. The different campaigns during the war are dealt with separately, as one might expect, but there is also a whole part dedicated to different groups and aspects of the war. It is very welcome that chapters are dedicated to such oft ignored facets as the ‘Medics, nurses and doctors’, ‘Prisoners of war’ and especially a chapter on the uglier side of war, on the criminals, profiteers and racists. Aside from these specific chapters, there are plenty of other interesting titbits of information scattered throughout the book, such as the reports of dud ammunition (sadly not researched, but backed up in a letter to the author from a Jewish slave labourer in a German concentration camp in the afterword), the fanaticism of some of the SS troops (one is mentioned dying after refusing a transfusion from a US medic, on the chance it might contain Jewish blood), or the German soldier executed for spying when caught with forged papers (the original reading “Not a Pass–For Indentification Only”, and the forger having corrected the spelling mistake).

Sadly, for all this the book is not without its flaws. Another reviewer, when trying to come up with a single word to sum up the book decided on ‘frustrating’, and I think this rather hits the nail on the head. This book is well written, well compiled, well researched, but unfortunately it isn’t a great piece of history, when if very much should have been. Ambrose writes with an agenda, one that is seldom disguised, seldom explored, rarely supported. He seems to have a personal vendetta against Montgomery, and on numerous occasions quotes sources to the effect that he was responsible for much of the mishandling of the war effort. Granted, the work is entirely concentrated on the US army’s endeavours, but such focus is also combined with a very dismissive attitude to the soldiers of the other nations. The one great hypothesis that Ambrose seems wont to flaunt is that the greatest capitalist democratic economy simply produced the best soldiers in the world, despite the very same book deriding the army’s lack of training, the system of replacements, the ignorance of the army commanders, the poor or unsuited equipment etc. Given the otherwise relatively sober portrayal of events from the eyes of those who fought, such jingoist conclusions are unfitting and unnecessary.

Rumours of plagiarism aside (Ambrose states clearly in the introduction that his aim was to “let [his] characters speak for themselves by quoting them liberally”), there is also call to believe that some of his quotes are taken well out of context to further his agenda. I don’t believe for a second that this is particularly warranted, but his openly opinionated comments unfortunately lead to such nagging suspicions. Finally, there were apparently also numerous obvious inaccuracies in the book, the sort of figures and facts which most WW2 enthusiasts soon spot, and which also detract from its overall image (I think these errors were corrected in the version I read, which included an afterword dealing with the many letters the author had received).

Ultimately, as a testament to the people who fought, this book is an important and engaging work, and well worth reading for anyone with an interest in the Second World War, the US army, or wartime and soldiering in general. It is well organised, well structured and relatively readable, despite occasionally having too many different opinions and quotes tied into a handful of paragraphs. The accompanying maps and pictures are also a welcome complement to the stories and eyewitness accounts. But unfortunately the author’s reputation and his rather opinionated style detract from all of this, and leave something of a sour aftertaste to what is otherwise a very mature and sobering story.