Hell or Connaught!

Hell or Connaught!: The Cromwellian Colonisation of Ireland 1652-1660 by Peter Berresford Ellis, 252 pages

Catholic Ireland revolted against the Protestant rule of Charles I in 1641.  By 1644 the Irish were supporting the King against Parliament, and after the execution of the King in 1649 the Roundhead army arrived in Ireland to end resistance by fire and sword and, most deadly of all, starvation.  Hundreds of thousands of Irish, perhaps as much as a quarter of the population, perished and thousands more were enslaved and transported to the New World.  In Ireland itself, the decision was made to isolate the native Catholic population in the province of Connaught, the northwestern quarter of the island, with the lands thus depopulated to be given as pay for the Commonwealth soldiery and the London investors who backed the campaign.

The story of this decision, the effort made trying to put it into effect, and the pain it engendered are the primary themes of Ellis' history of the period.  There are other important narratives here, too, including the impact of land speculation, the religious sectarian divides among the colonists, the internal politics of the Commonwealth, ultimately resulting in its end, and the disappointments of the Restoration.  Ellis tells these stories, and more, including the long running personal feud over the survey of Ireland, in a straightforward manner that nevertheless manages to incorporate primary sources and contemporary poetry to provide a complete picture of a crucial moment in Irish history.

Leonie Martin

Leonie Martin: A Difficult Life by Marie Baudouin-Croix, translated by Mary Frances Mooney, 157 pages

Leonie was born in 1863 to Ss Louis and Zelie Martin, the third of their six children, all daughters, who survived into adulthood.  All six eventually became nuns, with five joining the Carmelite monastery at Lisieux.  Leonie alone entered the Visitandine order at Caen, finally persevering on her third attempt.  Then again, Leonie had always been the difficult one, a sickly child, struggling with disobedience at home and failing in her studies at school, a trial and a worry to the mother who died when she was 14.  How she overcame these shortcomings, not alone but through the grace of God and her saintly intercessors, is the great theme of this short book.

Although Leonie Martin has not been canonized, Marie Baudouin-Croix's biography is unmistakably a hagiography.  It elides difficult, complex issues, notably the mental illness that afflicted Louis Martin in his later days, simplifying them into hardships to be overcome with the holy serenity of faith.  The problems this presents are more than compensated for by the author's evident understanding of, and sympathy with, the religion and religious life of the Martin family.  This is undoubtedly her story as Leonie herself would have liked it told.

Emperor of Japan

Emperor of Japan: Meiji and His World, 1852-1912 by Donald Keene, 723 pages

When the 122nd Emperor of Japan ascended the Chrysanthemum throne in 1867 at the age of 14, no Japanese emperor had exercised real power for nearly seven centuries.  A year later, the last shogun resigned his position and the man who would be known as Meiji became the actual as well as symbolic ruler of Japan.  The country was dominated by a feudal aristocracy, educated according to Confucian principles, and threatened by the greed of the Western powers.  When Meiji died 45 years later, Japan had rapidly Westernized, adopted a parliamentary system, defeated China and Russia in successive wars, annexed Korea, and established itself as a major power on the global stage.  It had, however, lost something which is less tangible.

It is unclear how much influence the Meiji emperor actually exercised over the seismic changes that occurred in Japanese culture and politics during his reign.  Indeed, it is difficult to say much of anything about the personality of the emperor, given the reverential protectiveness of all those in a position to know him.  The few candid accounts of the man were provided by foreign dignitaries whose access was necessarily limited.  Understandably, then, Donald Keene's biography is as much a portrait of the era as of the emperor who gave the era its name, although discerning readers may sense the spirit of the man moving throughout.  Keene himself seems devoted to the fashionable cult of "progress", but his devotion does not become fanaticism, indeed, some of the most memorable passages concern Ulysses Grant's role in the preservation of No drama and the European derision of Western-style dance halls in Tokyo.  The result is a compelling, rich tale of an era of momentous change, both for better and for worse, told through the refracted image of the man who was its symbol.

Leopard

The Leopard by Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa, translated by Archibald Colquhoun, 320 pages

Don Fabrizio, Prince of Salinas, would be perfectly content ruling over his large family, amusing himself with his mistress, indulging in his passion for astronomy, playing with his dog, and watching over his hereditary estates with benevolent indifference.  Unfortunately for him, history has other plans, as Garibaldi's revolutionaries lay siege to Palermo, with Fabrizio's own nephew, the dashing Tancredi, joining them in their effort to overthrow the monarchy.  Even in the security of his country estate at Donnafugata, the prince has to reckon with his eldest daughter Concetta's love for Tancredi and his nephew's growing affection for the bourgeois beauty Angelica.

The Leopard is a masterpiece.  It is not a dramatic novel - most of the major external conflicts are resolved without struggle or comment.  The real drama is social, historical, psychological, and, in the end, metaphysical.  Despite the sentimentality of its characters, it is a remarkably unsentimental work.  There is much to attract us in the passing world of the Sicilian nobility, but the novel does not romanticize them.  CS Lewis famously remarked that there is no "magic about the past.  People were no cleverer then than they are now; they made as many mistakes as we.  But not the same mistakes.  They will not flatter us in the errors we are already committing; and their own errors, being now open and palpable, will not endanger us."  So it is with The Leopard - the novel unfolds for the reader a universe of values which overlaps but significantly diverges from those of liberal modernity and allows him to judge between them.