I was planning to post more often than this, so perhaps I just have to allow myself shorter entries. Anyway, below is a detailed take on Pears's book. Basically, I liked it and everyone should read it and discuss it with me. If you want more detail, read on.
There has to be some literary fashion or cliche or something that I am not familiar with, wherein the author picks a geographical location and weaves interlinked stories of inhabitants from different eras. These inhabitants cross paths in echoes and read each other's documents, art, architecture, and remnants. Tom Stoppard did this in Arcadia, and Iain Pears takes it up a notch in Dream of Scipio; Stoppard really bounced back and forth between two sets of players, Pears makes his movement between three.
The geographical thread are the towns of Avignon and Vaison, France, in Provence. The earliest plot involves Manlius, a Roman citizen and landowner living during the decline of the Roman Empire. He has to deal with the remnants of the great civilizations as they sink under the waters of early Christianity and the 'barbarian' hoards gobbling up Europe. The middle plot is that of Olivier, a mediocre poet obsessed with collecting historical documents as well as currying favor with the Avignon Papacy right at the outbreak of the Black Plague. Olivier picks up the thread of Manlius's manuscript, The Dream of Scipio, and ensures its survival in the Vatican Archives. Julien, our third protagonist, struggles to be a scholar studying Olivier and Manlius in a France overrun by the Nazis, collaborators, and the Resistance.
Whew! No Peter Mayle waxing poetic about cheeses and countryside here. Instead, two themes seem to bubble up repeatedly: antisemitism and the nature of civilization. Pears sums up his take on the latter as exposed by the former. In the end, each protagonist longs to save and preserve the civilization that he has come to know and love. But only Julien really completes the circle in a speech near the end: he levels a scathing indictment against civilization by demonstrating that the Nazi extermination of the Jews was only possible with the tools and attitudes made available by civilization: apathy, scapegoatism, but also efficient train administration, malleable theologians, inventive scientists, persuasive governors, and calming writers. These tools and mechanisms allowed Nazi Germany, in Julien's words, to create a grand and horrible monument to civilization that would outlast any building project or military conquest: they exterminated millions of human beings on a grand scale. Civilization, which had been worth saving, becomes supremely suspect at the macro level as well as at the level of the individual, the everyday citizen who follows orders and turns in neighbors to the secret police.
Julien's disillusionment rang loudest in my ears, though it is not the only ending. Olivier and Manlius have their revelations as well. I will leave that for you to discover.
Okay, first of all, read this book. Period. The interplay of history and art and philosophy make it enjoyable as well as convicting. If a good sermon is one that 'comforts the afflicted and afflicts the comfortable,' then Pears has written quite a pulpit-pounder, if the reader will meet him half-way. As we citizens of the world wrestle with the latest crises involving oil, war, poverty, global warming, natural disasters, and Jessica Simpson breaking up with Tony Romo, revisiting the purpose of 'civilization' is not a bad exercise. What do we do with all this advancement in technology and possibilities? What do we do with all of these libraries full of art and literature and science and philosophy? What are we building as our monument?
I also watched the movie Proof this past week. I haven't processed all of the information in it, but I liked. I would be curious to read the original play version to see if the ending of the movie is true to the play or a Hollywood modification... but it was certainly play-like. I will think about it and get back to you.
There has to be some literary fashion or cliche or something that I am not familiar with, wherein the author picks a geographical location and weaves interlinked stories of inhabitants from different eras. These inhabitants cross paths in echoes and read each other's documents, art, architecture, and remnants. Tom Stoppard did this in Arcadia, and Iain Pears takes it up a notch in Dream of Scipio; Stoppard really bounced back and forth between two sets of players, Pears makes his movement between three.
The geographical thread are the towns of Avignon and Vaison, France, in Provence. The earliest plot involves Manlius, a Roman citizen and landowner living during the decline of the Roman Empire. He has to deal with the remnants of the great civilizations as they sink under the waters of early Christianity and the 'barbarian' hoards gobbling up Europe. The middle plot is that of Olivier, a mediocre poet obsessed with collecting historical documents as well as currying favor with the Avignon Papacy right at the outbreak of the Black Plague. Olivier picks up the thread of Manlius's manuscript, The Dream of Scipio, and ensures its survival in the Vatican Archives. Julien, our third protagonist, struggles to be a scholar studying Olivier and Manlius in a France overrun by the Nazis, collaborators, and the Resistance.
Whew! No Peter Mayle waxing poetic about cheeses and countryside here. Instead, two themes seem to bubble up repeatedly: antisemitism and the nature of civilization. Pears sums up his take on the latter as exposed by the former. In the end, each protagonist longs to save and preserve the civilization that he has come to know and love. But only Julien really completes the circle in a speech near the end: he levels a scathing indictment against civilization by demonstrating that the Nazi extermination of the Jews was only possible with the tools and attitudes made available by civilization: apathy, scapegoatism, but also efficient train administration, malleable theologians, inventive scientists, persuasive governors, and calming writers. These tools and mechanisms allowed Nazi Germany, in Julien's words, to create a grand and horrible monument to civilization that would outlast any building project or military conquest: they exterminated millions of human beings on a grand scale. Civilization, which had been worth saving, becomes supremely suspect at the macro level as well as at the level of the individual, the everyday citizen who follows orders and turns in neighbors to the secret police.
Julien's disillusionment rang loudest in my ears, though it is not the only ending. Olivier and Manlius have their revelations as well. I will leave that for you to discover.
Okay, first of all, read this book. Period. The interplay of history and art and philosophy make it enjoyable as well as convicting. If a good sermon is one that 'comforts the afflicted and afflicts the comfortable,' then Pears has written quite a pulpit-pounder, if the reader will meet him half-way. As we citizens of the world wrestle with the latest crises involving oil, war, poverty, global warming, natural disasters, and Jessica Simpson breaking up with Tony Romo, revisiting the purpose of 'civilization' is not a bad exercise. What do we do with all this advancement in technology and possibilities? What do we do with all of these libraries full of art and literature and science and philosophy? What are we building as our monument?
I also watched the movie Proof this past week. I haven't processed all of the information in it, but I liked. I would be curious to read the original play version to see if the ending of the movie is true to the play or a Hollywood modification... but it was certainly play-like. I will think about it and get back to you.
