What I've Been Reading – July 2012 to October 2012

Salammbô by Gustave Flaubert
Salammbô was Gustave Flaubert’s follow-up to the famous but controversial Madame Bovary. Superficially it is very different, as instead of being set in provincial France and telling of the adulterous affairs of a country doctor’s wife it is set in ancient Carthage and tells of the brutal conflict between the city and its mercenary army. However, both share Flaubert’s carefully thought out prose and a bleak outlook on life.

The mercenary revolt, also called the “Truceless War” by the historian Polybius, writing in the 2nd century BCE, took place immediately after Carthage’s defeat at the hands of Rome in the First Punic War (241 BCE). The city of Carthage, due to financial difficulties as a result of its defeat, attempted to persuade its mercenary army to accept a payment of only a part of what they were owed in overdue pay, and in part due to poor handling of the situation, instead provoked them to revolt. Soon the mercenaries were joined by many of Carthage’s Libyan (non-Phoenician native peoples) subjects in a war that was characterized by great brutality on both sides.

Flaubert apparently did a lot of research in preparation for this novel, and made a special effort to be historically accurate. Nevertheless it is obvious to anyone who knows the actual history well that he has taken quite a few liberties. Some of these are to be expected; Polybius’s account is brief and so a lot had to be added to expand it into a novel. Still, Flaubert exaggerates a number of things considerably. The hostility between the mercenaries and the people of the city grew rather more gradually than is the case in the novel; the riotous feast in Hamilcar’s gardens and the slaughter of the company of Balearic Islanders by the Carthaginians seem to have been entirely Flaubert’s invention. He also greatly exaggerates the incompetence of Hamilcar’s rival Hanno, even beyond Polybius’s version (which some modern historians already consider somewhat biased). The romantic attraction between Hamilcar’s daughter Salammbô and the rebel Libyan Matho is of course an invention, as is the theft of the veil of the goddess Tanit by Matho and Spendius, an episode which reminded me of Fritz Leiber’s stories of Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser – though Matho and Spendius were even more amoral than Leiber’s heroes. Salammbô herself is largely an invention, as Polybius merely mentions that Hamilcar promised an unnamed daughter to the Numidian chief Naravas (spelled Narr’ Havas by Flaubert) in return for his help. The grisly episode where the Carthaginians sacrifice children to the god Moloch (now known not to exist – early historians misinterpreted the Punic word mlk to be referring to a god, when it actually meant a type of sacrifice) is also basically fiction; while most historians conclude that the Carthaginians, like some other ancient peoples including on rare occasions the Romans, did practice human sacrifice, it seems to have involved much smaller children (often stillborn infants).

Despite these and other unhistorical elements, such as making Spendius a slave of Hamilcar freed by Matho and the exaggerated account of all the groups of people flocking to take part in the assault on Carthage, Flaubert does capture the viciousness of the Mercenary War and does so with evocative language. The novel is a somewhat disturbing read at times, not only in its depiction of the (unfortunately mostly historical) cruelty and violence that took place in the war but also in its racist attitudes – the Carthaginians are a decadent Oriental people, and on the few occasions black Africans make an appearance, they are portrayed as savages little above the level of (non-human) animals. The ending is not a happy one either; this is something this novel shares with Flaubert’s better-known Madame Bovary. But for those who can overlook its flaws and endure its depressing elements, Salammbô is an interesting historical novel, and one that is regarded as a classic in France.


Maskerade by Terry Pratchett
Maskerade, another entertaining novel by Terry Pratchett, is a parody of Phantom of the Opera featuring the witches Granny Weatherwax and Nanny Ogg, plus Agnes Nitt, an overweight young woman (and prospective witch) with an incredible singing voice. Unlike in many other Discworld novels, the fate of the world is not at stake, though there is still murder and mayhem a-plenty. It shares many basic features with Pratchett’s other novels, such as good, sardonic humor, dramatic action with quite a few plot twists, and occasional ironic reflections on more serious subjects. Basically it is light entertainment, but very well done and not without some deeper, more thought-provoking elements.


The Age of Wonder: How the romantic generation discovered the beauty and terror of Science by Richard Holmes
The Age of Wonder is a non-fiction book by Richard Holmes about science in Britain in the late 18th and early 19th centuries. Each chapter has a different topic, but the whole thing is tied together by the careers of four individuals who serve as Holmes’s chief protagonists: the botanist Joseph Banks, the German-born astronomer William Herschel and his sister Caroline Herschel, and the chemist Humphry Davy. Though it is a work of non-fiction, the book reads as easily as a novel and is quite fascinating. It also has a fair amount of excitement and adventure, especially in the chapters on the first balloonists and on Mungo Park’s travels in Africa.

One particularly intriguing theme running through the book is the relationship between science and poetry in this era. Though nowadays they are seen as having almost nothing in common, Romantic poets had many connections with science and the scientists (or Natural Philosophers, as they were called then) of their day. Keats referred to Herschel’s discovery of Uranus in a poem, Wordsworth wrote about Newton, Byron and Shelley frequently wrote about scientific discoveries, Mary Shelley wrote the science fiction novel Frankenstein, and Coleridge was passionate about science and a good friend of Davy. Davy himself wrote poetry and even published some of it in his youth, and Erasmus Darwin, the grandfather of Charles Darwin, wrote a scientifically-based epic poem called The Botanic Garden.

Mostly set in England, but opening in Tahiti and including episodes in Germany, France, West Africa, and elsewhere, The Age of Wonder is a wide-ranging work that touches in varying degrees of depth on the careers of numerous scientists, poets, and writers of the era. Anyone who has an interest in the Romantic Age, the history of science, or good historical non-fiction in general should check it out.


High Fidelity by Nick Hornby
High Fidelity is a novel by British author Nick Hornby. The narrator, Rob Fleming, is an independent record store owner and former club disc jockey in his mid-thirties. The plot of the novel centers around his relationship problems, not only with his current girlfriend but also with various past girlfriends and an American singer-songwriter who he meets, as well as his interactions with the two guys who work at his record shop. Music, of course, is mentioned a lot, especially as Rob’s life (and even more so the lives of his employees Dick and Barry) revolves almost entirely around music. Since the record store doesn't get a lot of customers, most of Rob, Dick and Barry's time is spent making up top 5 lists, debating the merits or flaws of various bands and singers, and talking about obscure music trivia.

Rob is in many ways quite rather self-centered, and he is tormented by various insecurities as he goes through something of a mid-life crisis due to his relationship troubles.
I have to admit that to some degree I share some of his flaws and can relate to many of his problems, though not all of them (the sort of anxiety he deals with when he goes to Marie's place, for example, is something I've never felt). I would like to think I would have handled some of his more awkward conversations better than he does, but I certainly have had plenty of occasions where I wish I handled things differently, and I suspect this is true of the vast majority of people. His reflections on past relationships, and his discovery that his perception of many of them was distorted, also represent a fairly universal problem.

Though the parts about relationships and life choices give the book depth, the thing that most clearly sets it apart is the music. I won't go into that in depth here, though perhaps on my music blog I'll someday write an essay about musical snobbery, something Rob, Dick and Barry are definitely guilty of. Having said that, their knowledge of music – and by extension Nick Hornby's – is quite impressive. I should mention that many years ago I saw the critically acclaimed film adaptation of this novel, and my recollection is that it was pretty good, even though I don't remember it very well now and tend to confuse it with Say Anything, perhaps because both feature a lot of music and both star John Cusack. One thing I do remember about the film version of High Fidelity is Jack Black's excellent portrayal of Barry, who is the ultimate musical snob (and something of a jerk as well). In addition to the film version, there is apparently a Broadway musical based on the book. In any case, the novel is a good piece of modern fiction with particular appeal to music fans.


Carthage Must Be Destroyed: The Rise and Fall of an Ancient Civilization by Richard Miles
Carthage Must Be Destroyed: The Rise and Fall of an Ancient Civilization is a good, recent overview of the history of the ancient city of Carthage by Richard Miles. I know quite a bit about this subject myself, having become fascinated with Carthage and its most famous citizen, the brilliant military leader Hannibal, when I was still in elementary school, but nevertheless there was a fair amount here that was new to me. Much of the newer information is based on a combination of more recent archeological discoveries and new interpretations of both older discoveries and the ancient sources. Miles does a good job of explaining the current views about early Carthage and particularly the relationship between the Carthaginians and other Phoenician settlers in the Western Mediterranean on the one hand and other peoples, particularly the Greeks, on the other.

The part of the book on the Punic Wars between Rome and Carthage had less that was new to me, but even here the idea that there may have been a deliberate effort by Hannibal and his staff, particularly the Greek historian Silenus, to foment the idea that Hannibal was associated with Heracles-Melqart, a syncretistic amalgamation of the Phoenician god Melqart and the Greek hero-god Heracles (known to the Romans as Hercules), who had come to unite the older peoples of the Western Mediterranean against the upstart Romans was something I hadn’t read about before, though I knew that the Barcids (Hannibal and his predecessors, his father Hamilcar and brother-in-law Hasdrubal) had used Heracles-Melqart on their coins. While it is now difficult to be certain how extensive Hannibal’s use of such propaganda was, especially since the pro-Carthaginian histories of Silenus, Sosylus and others no longer exist except in isolated fragments, Miles makes a plausible case for the idea.

As for the rest of his account of the Punic Wars, I was somewhat disappointed that Miles seems to simply accept the traditional views regarding Roman leaders like Flaminius and Varro, despite the obvious bias of the main ancient sources. Also, he states that the river Hasdrubal had promised the Romans he would not cross bearing arms was “the river Hiberus [now generally thought to be the river Júcar]”. However, in the past most historians have believed the river in question to be the Ebro, including the modern histories I have (Lazenby discusses the theory that it might be a river further south but discounts it). This is significant because the Júcar is south of Saguntum, the Spanish city whose capture by Hannibal sparked the Second Punic War, whereas the Ebro is to the north. Miles, however, doesn’t even mention this traditional view, let alone discuss arguments favoring the interpretation he uses, even in the footnotes, in contrast to the way he deals with most other controversial points. But these are the only significant flaws I noticed, and in any case there are many other accounts of the Punic Wars around. For anyone looking for a comprehensive, readable survey of the history of Punic Carthage, Carthage Must Be Destroyed is probably the best choice available.


A Doll's House and Ghosts by Henrik Ibsen
A Doll's House and Ghosts, two famous plays by Norwegian playwright Henrik Ibsen dating back to the late 19th century, attack social conventions of the time, particularly with respect to the role of women. While Torvald Helmer's condescension toward his wife Nora seems almost unbelievable today (though at the time, unfortunately, it may not have seemed so) and Nora's sudden enlightenment about the nature of her status a tad unrealistic, especially given her naivety early in the play, these seemingly exaggerated elements ensure that the point is made all the more clearly. Ghosts shows the tragic results of a woman's efforts to keep up appearances while living in a completely dysfunctional family. While they may not seem so revolutionary today, both of these plays were extremely controversial in the very conservative period in which they first appeared. They were both attacked in very strong language by conventionally-minded critics, and banned in many places. But they also attracted a following among more liberal people, and helped to change people's attitude toward marriage and the status of women.


The Book of the Short Sun by Gene Wolfe
The Book of the Short Sun is a "science fantasy" trilogy by Gene Wolfe consisting of On Blue's Waters, In Green's Jungles and Return to the Whorl. It is a sequel of sorts to The Book of the Long Sun, which unfortunately I have not read (though I intend to look for a copy. There are frequent references to characters and events in The Book of the Long Sun, but it is not essential to have read it to understand The Book of the Short Sun, though the latter is not always so easy to follow for other reasons, as I'll explain. The second and third books tie in to a more limited degree with Wolfe's The Book of the New Sun, with the three sets making up Wolfe's "Solar Cycle". The Book of the Short Sun is set on three worlds, the planets Blue and Green and the interstellar colony ship The Whorl of the Long Sun, which was also the setting of the The Book of the Long Sun.

While Wolfe has not had the commercial success of the biggest scifi authors, he is a critical favorite who has won a number of awards. Most of the books in his "Solar Cycle" have placed in polls for the best science fiction books of all time. Some critics have even claimed Wolfe is the greatest living American writer. While this is a somewhat subjective judgment, he is certainly a good writer, though his books are not the easiest to read. In certain ways, The Book of the Short Sun is somewhat easier to read than The Book of the New Sun, as there is less of the unusual vocabulary found in the latter book (though there are a few examples, such as "whorl" for world, "augur" for priest, and "manteion" for church or temple). However, as the narrator Horn himself observes at one point, he has "written whatever crossed [his] mind" and so his narrative skips back and forth in time, telling both the story of his earlier journey and what is happening at the time he is writing, and neither strand of the story is told in a completely linear fashion. He often refers in passing to events and characters that are not properly introduced until much later (in the respect it reminded me a little of Rushdie's Midnight's Children), as well as to events and characters in The Book of the Long Sun. None of this makes the book impossible to follow, but it does tend to encourage flipping back and forth to keep track of what is happening. Some parts of the story are told in detail, while others are merely summarized, and some are never explained properly at all. This sort of non-linear storytelling style also reminded me a little of Infinite Jest, though The Book of the Short Sun is not quite so complex and it does have an ending, even if it is one that doesn't resolve everything clearly, unlike David Foster Wallace's book, which doesn't have a proper ending at all. In any case, while it may occasionally make for frustrating reading, this narrative structure is fascinating and also adds an extra element of realism, as the book does read much like a disorganized account scribbled down in spare moments by a person who is in the middle of fast moving events – and is himself changing as the narrative progresses.

The narrator is the key character in the book, though as the story evolves, it becomes clear that his identity is somewhat ambiguous. It is apparent early on that something has happened to him in the course of his travels to change his physical appearance, but it is gradually revealed that it may have changed more than that. Horn originally departed his home to search for Silk, the protagonist of The Book of the Long Sun, which was ostensibly written by Horn and his wife Nettle. Horn views Silk as a saint-like character and a great leader who he tries to emulate, though he is generally self-deprecating about his efforts. Nevertheless, Horn seems to take on many of Silk's qualities. He is frequently taken for Silk himself and is looked to as a leader and a source of wisdom by many of those he meets. Indeed, in certain ways he is a Christ-like figure, as was Severian from The Book of the New Sun (who appears near the end of this book as well, though he is not named). The manner in which the man calling himself Horn can be seen as a symbolic representation of Jesus is reminiscent of the way both Gandalf and Frodo in Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings are also in certain respects (particularly in terms of nobility and self-sacrifice) Christ-like. Another similarity between Wolfe and Tolkien is theology. While the people of Horn's worlds have a pantheon of gods, Horn concludes that only the one known as the Outsider is a true god. The Outsider is similar to Tolkien's Eru or Illuvitar, who is likewise a somewhat mysterious god that stands above and beyond the Valar, who act as the gods of Middle Earth. Of course both the Outsider and Eru clearly represent the Christian God. These similarities between Wolfe and Tolkien (who corresponded briefly back when Wolfe was just starting his career) may be explained in part by their religion, as I have read that Wolfe is Catholic, like Tolkien was. While I don't necessarily agree with their theology, both of them did a good job incorporating it into their stories in a way that benefited them rather than detracting from them.

There are many aspects of this book that could be discussed in greater detail. For instance, the inhumi as they are first described seem reminiscent of the Thread in Anne McCaffery's Pern books, as they are said to be able to launch themselves from their home planet of Green through space to Blue. This obviously doesn't seem very realistic from a scientific point of view, but later in the story there are suggestions that this explanation may not be the true one, merely a myth believed by the humans on Blue (and perhaps perpetuated by the inhumi themselves). Indeed things in Wolfe's books are very often not quite what they seem. Even questions that I might have had in the course of reading, such as why Horn believes his son Sinew hates him, the nature of the Neighbors/Vanished People and exactly how their civilization collapsed, or how the spirit travel that Horn and others engage in actually works, may at best be answered in an ambiguous manner, like the question of Horn's identity is, but this may well be intentional on Wolfe's part, as in real life things are often no clearer. So while this book may not be the best choice for simple light reading, it challenges the reader like good literature should, and yet remains engrossing throughout. Overall, while saying Wolfe is the greatest living writer in the English language is probably an overstatement, The Book of the Short Sun, like The Book of the New Sun, shows that he is one of the most interesting writers out there, and certainly is one worth reading.