A little history (8/14)

I read a lot. Books give me entertainment and education, and I’ll choose something to read with different intentions from book to book.

It’s a wonderful delight when I find both of these things happening at once while I read. It’s an even rarer treat when the book throws in “enlightenment” as well as “engrossing engagement.”

Such is the case with A Little History of the World by E. H. Gombrich. Originally written in 1935 while Gombrich was an out-of-work but well-educated 26-year-old, A Little History was intended for young readers.

Gombrich moved to London in 1936, was knighted in 1972, and became one of the most famous art historians of our age. (See the book he’s most famous for, The Story of Art, for example.) He revised A Little History in 2005 and finally wrote his own English translation.

It starts with a fairly simple-to-grasp but encompassing four-page intro to history called “Once Upon A Time.” The penultimate chapter is entitled “The Small Part of the History of the World Which I Have Lived Through Myself: Looking Back.”

In between, its 385 pages has 40-in-all chapters, each fewer than 10 pages (and some as short as just two pages in length). They literally cover everything from the Stone Age to the atomic bomb. Written in a voice certain to appeal to its original target audience, A Little History does so without “talking down” to readers of any age and is appealing regardless of an indivudal’s depth of knowledge of history.

In fact, A Little History is not little at all. The book jacket says it well: “This is a text not dominated by dates and facts, but by the sweep of mankind’s experience across the centuries, a guide to humanity’s achievements, and an acute witness to its frailties.”

Quite a promise to a history lover like me.

And thus far it’s certainly lived up to that promise! I’m only about 50 pages in and I feel like I’ve learned A LOT in just that little bit of reading.

While I agree with that encapsulization of its scope, the dates ARE in there (with comparisons from one region to the other to provide insightful context) and so are the facts, covering everything from word origins (why we call austere living “Spartan”) to the very human reason the seafaring Phoenicians created the alphabet we still use today — they wanted to stay in touch with loved ones back home.

Adding to my enjoyment are the entrancing line drawings which begin each chapter and adorn the cover. By the British anarchist Clifford Harper, the woodcuts lend a grace imminently suited to Gombrich’s “amiable conversational style.”

This little volume warrants its rave reviews; Peter picked this up for me on a recent trip to Philadelphia and I have a feeling it will be one of those lifetime keepers.

While not your typical beach read, and even if you’re not a passionate cobblestone-cathedral-castle-and-culture monger like we are — I highly recommend checking it out!