Wednesday 28 July 2010

Darkmans by Nicola Barker

Why, WHY did I buy this rubbish? This is a fine exemplar of everything I don't like about modern literary fiction. There are no likeable characters. The reader is allowed to see into everybody's head and the inside of each character's head looks exactly the same. When I finally reached the denuement I was mildly surprised that Nicola would ever think anyone would be interested.

I had stupidly hoped the book would be some sort of supernamtural thriller with maybe some literature round the edges but it turned out to be 850 pages of buggerall. It's not even bad enough to laugh at. A total waste of everyone's time, money and effort.

The Water Room by Christopher Fowler

For various reasons I have been feeling in need of comfort of late and what could be more comforting than a traditional plays-by-the-rules detective novel? "The Water Room" is the second of Christopher Fowler's series featuring the octogenarian detectives Arthur Bryant (more decrepit than Miss Marple and grumpier than Inspector Morse) and John May (ancient but dapper and with an eye for the ladies). Between the two of them they have run the Perculiar Crimes Unit - a sort of underfunded British X Files - since it was established in the dark days of the Blitz.

An elderly woman is found dead in her basement having somehow drowned in river water. As the investigtion continues there are further deaths in the same terraced street. Is this coincidence or the work of a serial killer? And what is the husband of one of May's ex-girlfriends doing trailing about London at night with a load of caving equipment in the company of a dodgy Egyptian businessman? Because this is a proper, old school detective story we can rest assured that it will all be neatly tied up at the end.

There's a lot to like in the Bryant and May books. For a start there's extra tension because the heroes are so frail that if someone were to push them over in the street it would all be over. Also, there is usually a sinister or occult cast to their cases. Christopher Fowler also writes horror stories with good measure of humour in them. He's never going to trouble the Booker judges, but I've enjoyed everything I've read by him so far. He's a solid writer of genre fiction who recognises that there are a thousand things his readers ought to be getting on with so he'd better spin a good yarn. His work is nearly always set in London and replete with psychgeographic detail - like a version of Peter Ackroyd you might actually want to read.

Saturday 24 July 2010

The Prince by Niccolo Machiavelli

After wading through "How To Read A Book" I felt that should actually try to put the advice into practise by tackling one of the difficult books which has been lurking on my shelves for years. The Prince was probably the least intimidating of these, being quite a slender volume. The fact that it has become infamous as a sort of Linux-style HOWTO for evil overlords also makes it potentially interesting. This notorious book is also probably the longest CV-and-covering-letter in the history of the world as it was given to Lorenzo De Medici, the new ruler of Florence in the hopes that it would earn Machiavelli a place in his government. In this aim it was completely unsuccessful. In proper How To Read A Book style, I have tried to consider their 4 questions: What is the book about as a whole?, What are the detailed arguments?, Is it true? and What of it?

What is it about as a whole?
How to maintain yourself in power as the ruler of a small, undemocratic area.

What are the detailed arguments?
The book first lists of different types of principalities and the means by which each type may be held. This is followed by a section on troops of different types. We then move on to how a Prince should behave. There is then a section dealing with how to choose good ministers and avoid flatterers. To finish Machiavelli leaves us with a truly bizarre rant. More on that later.

First, I should probably condsider what Machiavelli means by a prince, because it doesn't seem to be the same as current English usage. You don't have to be son of a king, you just have to govern a "Principality" which could be something the size of a county, a small country or just a city state. We would probably use "warlord", "petty tyrant" or "robber baron" to describe Machiavelli's princes.

Another word to watch out for in the book is "Republic". The republics of Renaissance Italy were less like modern republics such as France or the USA, and more like ancient Greek republics such as Athens. For example, rulers would be drawn from amongst wealthy male citizens. There was not really much in the way of election or representation. These republics are oligarchies, not democracies.

Machiavelli believes that inherited principalities are most easily ruled: the people are used to it and no one really likes change. Just so long as you don't do anything stupid (like making the people hate you) everything will be fine. In principalities which you have conquered, the more of a dictatorial grip the last incumbent had, the easier it will be for you. If there was one all-powerful ruler and everyone else was "as slaves" then all you have to do is chase down and execute any descendents of the old prince as nobody else has the power to oppose you.

New principalities which are essentially handed to you by another more powerful ruler as a reward for your support in a joint venture can be a problem as you come into them before you have done the groundwork that would have been necessary to take them on your own (building up your armies, establishing a political powerbase, building financial reserves and so forth). Machiavelli argues that if you want to hold these territories you must go back and try to do that groundwork as soon as possible. He uses Caesare Borgia as a case study in how this should be done.

Most difficult are principalities which used to run their own affairs as republics. The people will default to hating you and resenting their loss of freedom (even ones who never actually had any in the first place!) and can easily be incited to rise up. There are only 3 options: financially ruin the area; set up a loyal puppet administration and take a hands off approach; go and live there.
The answer to many difficulties appears to be "go and live there". Machiavelli's reasoning is that you will know what's happening on the ground and can intervene in a timely fashion. If the people are disposed to like you they will be pleased that you have made their city your home, and if they don't you'll be able to strike fear into their hearts by having a few of them put to death. He observes that people can resent a distant ruler (true! Look at Scotland) and that any officials you send to rule new provinces for you are likely to be on the make and despoil them. His logic seems pretty sound and I can find only 2 flaws:
  1. If the people hate you, you could be assassinated (I don't think this was considered such a big risk as at the time most princes would be expected to lead in battle and were probably reasonably accepting of violent death ).
  2. You can only live in one place at a time, so the rate at which you can gain and hold territories is limited.

Despite the prevalence of mercenary armies in Italy at the time, Machiavelli believes is it best to have your own troops. Mercenaries are worse than useless: if their commanders are incompetent they are a liability, if they win battles for you, they can hold you to ransom. He illustrates this with a nice story about a ruler who has all his mercenary commanders put to death as he can't think what else he could safely do with them. Auxiliary troops are nearly as bad – they are lent to you by another Prince so cannot be relied on.

It is probably the part of the book which deals with how a prince ought to behave which earns the book its reputation. Machiavelli is credited with completely subverting all the other learned writings of the time which exhorted rulers to be merciful, godly, generous and so forth, completely turning this advice on its head.

When it comes to generousity, Machiavelli advises against spending your own money as that will make you poor. You should also think twice before using your subjects money as higher taxes will make them hate you. So what to do? Simply invade somewhere else and be generous with the loot from there! Now everyone's happy.

On the subject of mercy Machiavelli thinks that while it would be lovely to live by this Christian value, realistically, you're going to have to have someone put to death at some point and when that time comes, you should not flinch from it. He advises against using the death penalty a lot - just ringleaders of plots - and don't go nuts and start seeing conspiracies everywhere.

A prince need keep his word only when it suits him - and should not be naive enough to think others of his rank are will keep the deals they make with him.

If there is a point which Machiavelli particularly labours it is that a prince cannot afford to hated by the people. If they love you, that's great but if they fear you that's OK too. If they hate you they'll always be looking out for someone they'd prefer as a ruler. The best way to avoid being hated, he believes, is simply to resist helping yourself to your subjects womenfolk and property. He actually states that people will forgive you more readily for executing family members than for confiscating property! And I thought I had a low opinion of humanity...

The final section of The Prince is a bizarre and tangential rant about delivering Italy from foreigners. Large parts of it were apparently under the control of France and Spain at the time and Machiavelli seems to believe that the restored Medicis can save Italy from foreign scum. But the Medicis were essentially merchants and Florence had never really been a military power. For a man who throughout the book strikes me a rational (if amoral) pragmatist, this crazy-arsed patriotic call to arms seems out of character. Did he write this bit while he was drunk? Underneath this section in my copy of the book I have inscribed, "WTF?".


Is it true and what of it?
We should remember that The Prince is actually only half of Machiavelli's work on politics; he also wrote another book on how republics ought to be governed.

One of the quotes most frequently extracted from this book is that, “The Injury that you do a man should be such that you need not fear his revenge”. My Kung Fu club have appropriated this motto and it works for us as our aim is just to survive the next 10 minutes, but I don’t believe it will work for politics. The person who you “crush utterly” will have friends, family, allies, coreligionists. Even the dispossessed are dangerous; consider the Israel/Palestine conflict!

Unless you actually come to rule your own crazy, lawless third world country, it is not realistic to take the advice in the book literally. For example, as a manager in even the most ruthless industry, you will get precious little opportunity for having underlings who have outlived their usefulness put to death. If we take firing/demotion/make their job so shit they quit on their own to be the modern equivalent of execution, we can see Machiavelli's methods in every dysfunctional workplace in the land. In the book, Caesare Borgia pulls a trick where essentially he sends in his pet pitbull to sort out some tough problem, then when order has been established he steps in personally to shoot the nasty, mean dog and watches all the little people love him. I have seem the same trick work in a number of offices - the moral of the story is never be too keen to be someone else's thug.

It's also possible to apply the chapter on mercenaries to people like IT contractors or consultants.

Despite the number of macho arseholes keen to apply the values of The Prince to life in the workplace, I don't really think they're a good fit. Maybe this is just the self-justification of a person who doesn't have it in them to crush someone else for the sake of expediency, but I take the view that it's a small world and the toes you tread on today could well be connected to the ass you have to kiss tomorrow.

The kind of thinking behind The Prince, seeing every transaction as a “zero sum game” in which if someone else wins, we lose is currently very unfashionable, but a lot of people still think and behave this way. Reading the original gives a window into their mental worlds, leaving you forewarned and forearmed.

Some Things I Still Don’t Understand
Why are those who come to power by “crimes” are considered in a separate chapter to those that do it by military force? Is it because they have murdered people who matter while the military campaigners only killed peasants?
Machiavelli thinks that ecclesiastical principalities are great because you don’t need to bother to govern them. So who is running them?
Machiavelli seems to have some sort of crush on Pope Alexander VI's son, Caesare Borgia (brother of the famous poisoner Lucretia) . I'm amazed the Pope could get away with having children – I suppose if you pay for enough mercenaries, you can get away with anything.

To finish, here's a pop-psychology quiz which claims to find out how Machiavellian you are.
Amazingly, I score 66% and am considered to be “high mach” making me charming (hope so), glib (definitely), devious ( wrong. I am missing the part of the brain used for telling lies) and manipulative (if only!). I think the truth is that I am a Machwannabe. I put it to you that truly “High Mach” individuals will lie on the quiz and make sure they come out at 50% or below to avoid warning the rest of us.