A book a day: Indro Montanelli: History of the Greeks

Idioma original: Italian

Original title: History of the Greeks

Translation: Sunday Pruna

Year of publication: 1959

Valuation: Highly recommended

Apart from the juicy income it brings us, which must also be taken into account, one of the things I like most about this blog is that we all learn from each other: the reviewers, from each other (at least I like to think that I have learned things from others); we, from those who read and comment on us; the readers and commentators, from us, even if it is just a little; and all of us, naturally, from the books we read. In short, a win-win if we only dedicate a few minutes to it every day or from time to time. Let this syrupy introduction be made to underline that the book that we are talking about today was, like others before it, suggested in one of the comments, in this case, if I am not mistaken, by Beatriz Rodríguez Soto, a travelling companion whose opinions we always value very much.

Indro Montanelli was a fairly well-known journalist at an international level in the last century. He was something of a loose cannon, who in his youth flirted with fascism, although later he supported the Spanish Republic, rebelled against the leadership of the Corriere della Sera He founded several newspapers, clashed with Berlusconi when he was a rising star, and I don’t know how many other things. But in general terms he was a very intelligent guy, with a very broad culture and almost always leaning towards what I think he called anarcho-liberalism, which is something that sounds really bad today, guys. And, I would add, with a fairly pronounced bias that embodies a bit of the values ​​of conservatism of the 70s. This man also writes a good number of books, among which those dedicated to Roman and Greek civilizations stand out, which, after all, is what interests us today.

His history of the Greek world is a book that achieves something quite difficult: to be entertaining when talking about a subject and characters that, it must be admitted, lend themselves to a bit of a yawn in the hands of historians and philosophy textbooks. The exposition begins in the Minoan era, centred on Crete, and ends with the arrival of Roman rule, encountering along the way all those names that may sound familiar to us from the field of philosophy, geometry, politics or the arts. Athens, Sparta, Thebes, Corinth, some myths that intersect with History, Persians, Macedonians and waves of people arriving from the north, the fights between the city-states, some battles, the first forms of democracy, murders, exiles, schools, the influence of the hetaerae, the Mediterranean colonies. All of these subjects are touched upon with grace and presented from a character with a resonant and familiar name who guides the story of a certain period.

This characteristic, that of a story that always revolves around a leading character, may be a symptom of the author’s liberal bent, which may leave the influence of social and economic reality in the background, but it is also one of the reasons that explain the liveliness of the story, which always keeps in the foreground a name that may seem attractive, Archimedes, Alexander, Pericles, Socrates, Plato, Themistocles or Aristotle, among many others. It is certainly a good attraction, even at the risk, which it can sometimes fall into, of turning the exposition into a long anecdote.

Because the other dominant feature that defines the book is the casual tone that permeates each of its pages. Montanelli avoids the seriousness that we normally associate with the venerable civilization, and covers with lightness the amount of erudition necessary to relate some episodes. I don’t think anyone has managed to explain the myth of the Minotaur with such simplicity and clarity as Montanelli does right from the start of the book. Agility, ease, humor and an enormous ability to narrate without boring give rise to an enjoyable read that could be summed up in the classic to teach and to entertainteach and delight, that perfect combination that every popularizer seeks, or should (or perhaps not so much).

It is true that the dosage can sometimes be somewhat unbalanced. Perhaps his own intellectual level or excessive interest in lightening the story (or the frivolity of allowing himself to place certain messages) make the author go through relevant facts or situations too quickly and show a tendency to go straight to the joke or the prank, lest the reader start to get overwhelmed. So the casualness can sometimes take on an exaggerated prominence, as well as peppering us with comments with an inopportune political bias or ironic references to current Italian events that few will be able to grasp.

Did Don Indro go too far in his presentation of the history of ancient civilization? Perhaps a little, perhaps because he underestimated potential readers, because perhaps those who are interested in the subject do not need so many jokes. Even so, is the book recommended for those who want to learn about those centuries that have left such a mark on our European world? Well, without a doubt, I would say yes.