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A book lit only by fame
I read this book when it first appeared, and have since carried pleasant if rather vague memories of it. Rereading it some 16 years later, I'm horrified by how bad it is in places, and wonder what in the world I saw in it the first time around.
The opening section entitled "The Medieval Mind" is especially, embarrassingly, bad. In it, Manchester reduces an entire millennium to a quick and spotty sketch (this must account in part for the vagueness of my memories) which is full of over-generalizations (the medieval world wasn't a bona fide "civilization"), simplifications ("there was no room in the medieval mind for doubt; the possibility of skepticism simply did not exist"), and absolute howlers (medieval peasants went naked in the summer; the medieval mind had no spatial and temporal awareness or self-consciousness).
Less bad--but still bad--are the succeeding two sections, both much longer than the opening one on the medieval period (this, despite the book's subtitle). One of the sections is on the Renaissance and Reformation, the other focuses on Magellan and the European "discovery" of the New World (which Manchester tells us was the germ from which the entire book grew). There are some interesting biographical vignettes in the Renaissance section that probably account for my pleasant memories--Savonarola, da Vinci, and Erasmus in particular--but there's no real effort on Manchester's part to wrestle with the meaning of the new humanism that fueled the Renaissance or to explore the intricacies of the Reform revolt against Rome. Instead, he falls back on tired stereotypes; his long account of Martin Luther is especially hackneyed. Manchester's concluding account of Magellan's voyage, with its brief nod to Renaissance astronomy and the science of navigation, is enthusiastic and lively, and is probably the best--or least bad--part of the book. But again, it's sketchy and breathless.
So what accounts for the remarkable popularity of this book? Its quality should've landed it on the out-of-print shelve long ago. My only guess is that Manchester's well-deserved fame for his contemporaneous histories (WWII, Winston Churchill, Douglas MacArthur) bestows a borrowed and undeserved aura of authority on this one. But authors (and their agents and editors) really ought to know when they're in over their heads, and refrain from writing bad copy just because they know they can get it published.
May 2008 · Books