Remembering Angola: Another Day of Life, by Ryszard Kapuscinski

MarginalAnother Day of Life is one of the finest books about modern Angola and has a deserved reputation as a classic of modern war reportage. Kapuchinski was famed as the Polish Press Agency’s foreign correspondent and he travelled the world in the the 60’s and 70’s reporting on revolution and independence struggles in the Developing World. His eyewitness account of the coming of Angolan independence is one of his best works. The book, from the evacuation of the Portuguese, to the South African invasion and the beginnings of the Angolan civil war crackles with verisimilitude, and is rendered with a remarkable, almost poetic, elegance of language. ordinary life Angola

He captures beautifully the city of Luanda and the surreality of its emptying of settlers in the face of decolonisation, the terror of road convoys through bloodily contested countryside, and ordinary rhythms of life that go on in the midst of cataclysm.

It is an extraordinary work of journalism, gripping as a thriller and moving as a tragedy. Beautiful.

Robert Kennedy: A memoir, by Jack Newfield

BobbyIn his autobiography of his life as a campaigning journalist, the great Donald Woods wrote of a meeting he had with the South African prime minister in 1968, having just spent some time with Robert Kennedy and his presidential campaign. The prime minister asked: do you think Kennedy will win? Yes, said Woods, he’s too rich to be bought, too idealistic to be corrupted and the young people, the blacks and the hispanics all believe in him and he doesn’t want to let them down. The South African prime minister buried his head in his hands and said, my God. If Kennedy wins, God help South Africa!

Jack Newfield’s memoir of Bobby Kennedy and his 1968 presidential campaign catches the hope that Woods saw and communicates to the reader, even decades on, the devastating tragedy of Kennedy’s death. With it the promises of a negotiated end to the Vietnam war, concerted action against apartheid in South Africa, and renewed effort on the struggle for civil rights and poverty in the United States, were snatched away.

There are certainly more scholarly works about Bobby Kennedy, but this book conveys in a viceral way just what Kennedy meant to that generation who hoped for a better world in the 1960s. It is a powerful testament of the possibilty of politics as well as the price it sometimes exacts of those who assert principle.

An exquistely painful book.

Giving journalists a good name: Asking for Trouble by Donald Woods

Donald Woods bannedDonald Woods was that very rare sort of journalist who gives journalists a good name: a brave and principled man who fought apartheid and, following the assassination of Steve Biko, which he did much to expose to the world, was “banned”, that is put under house arrest, by the South African government for his troubles.

He wasn’t always this though and his autobiography is an honest account of his education from a prejudiced youth to freedom fighter and prisoner of conscience, though he would probably never have described himself this way: his autobiography suggests he was a man who had a lovely sense of humour about himself and the world. This, and his passionate rage against injustice illuminates his account of his life reporting apartheid South Africa, which is told in the snappy prose style of a gifted newspaperman.

The Fall of Carthage by Adrian Goldsworthy

20140707-140519-50719822.jpgThe Fall of Carthage is Adrian Goldsworthy’s account of the three wars between Rome and Carthage, the two great Mediterranean city states, from their first clashes in 265 BCE to the final destruction of Carthage in 146 BCE.

It’s a clear and compelling account, but I must say I found it less gripping that Goldsworthy’s biography of Caesar. On reflection this is not because of any lack of scholarship on the part of Goldsworthy or any less elegance in his writing. It is rather a problem of the sources which are sparser in comparison with Caesar’s era and significantly less colourful: Hannibal, for example, has left no correspondence from which to gain insight to his tactical and strategic thinking, let alone his life and loves.

In his introduction to the book Goldsworthy states that it is not his intention to seek military lessons for the contemporary world from the Punic wars. Rather he simply wants to explain those wars in the context of the third and second centuries BCE. His success at this is perhaps best demonstrated in his discussion of the battle of Cannae. Here he provides a clear account of how the heavily outnumbered Hannibal managed to encircle and defeat his Roman opponents. (The manoeuvring at Cannae has inspired many subsequent generals to try to emulate, including, I believe, Pilsudski in his brilliant rout of Soviet forces outside Warsaw in 1920.) However where many other accounts skate over the aftermath of the encirclement, which had effectively decided the outcome of the battle, Goldsworthy points out how that was not the end of the fighting. Indeed the killing went on for hours afterwards as the Carthaginian forces blunted their swords and spears in the sanguinary process of butchering almost 60,000 men,

However there remain, I think, some inescapably timeless lessons from the narrative.

In the first Punic war, which was primarily a naval contest, the Carthaginians had by far the superior navy. Naval fighting in those days focused on ships trying to ram each other and this required considerable skill amongst the ships’ crews which the Romans found they simply could not match. So instead they conceived of a tactic of grappling and boarding the Carthaginian vessels and soon rendered the skill of ships “dog-fighting” each other substantially obsolete.

The second Punic war opened with Hannibal’s extraordinary invasion of Italy from across the Alps. This was followed rapidly by his stunning successes at Lake Trasimene and Cannae, which subsequent historians have argued left the path to Rome open to him. Goldsworthy argues that Hannibal did not follow this path because by all contemporary measures he had won the war and expected a settlement. The Romans however had, unappreciated by most of their contemporaries, conceived war totally differently and indeed waged it totally as a consequence. Hence they were prepared to absorb eye watering levels of casualties sooner than admit defeat. As a result it was the tactically undefeated Hannibal who was driven out of Italy by a strategy which, certainly at the outset of his war, he could never have conceived of.

Both these examples show how a wholly new reconceptualisation of a situation can lead to previous ideals being rendered irrelevant.

Reflection on these wars also corroborates Thucydides assertion that wars tend to be fought for three principle reasons: “honour” – meaning here not integrity but rather that peculiar sense of reputation or personal worth that used to bring young men onto duelling grounds to kill each other, and still is used by some men to justify their murder of female relatives – “fear” and “profit’. In spite of much human progress since Scipio Aemilianus oversaw the final genocide at Carthage, humanity still does not seem to have found a cure for these ills.

The Cuckoo Calling – JK Rowling (writing as Robert Galbraith)

cuckoocallingA supermodel, Lula, falls to her death from her balcony in London. The police rule the death as suicide. However the model’s brother is unconvinced. So, he hires a private detective to reinvestigate the case.

Enter JK Rowling’s new serial hero: Cormoran Strike, a gumshoe in the classic mould. Comoran is a war injured ex-military police investigator, haunted by the demons of his youth, his past cases, his war and his shattered love-life. Cormoran, and his side kick Robin – you gotta love an author who calls the side-kick Robin, (though here Robin is a bright young female PA rather than a boy-wonder) – begin an investigation into the tangled web of Lula’s life and death.

The result is a great crime novel, closer to the American hard-boiled tradition rather than the genteel English country house mystery, but with a strong sense of contemporary London.

Despite the shift in genres from children’s literature to crime, JK Rowling displays the traits that made her Harry Potter series such a joy: intricate plotting, great pacing, elegant writing and a lovely sense of humour – Cormoran’s drunken, broken hearted discourses being a particular pleasure: I’ve got to admit I identified with this aspect of the chap’s life more than might be healthy.

All in all it’s a delight from start to finish and I very much look forward to Cormoran’s next outing.