Burckhardt’s most famous book is The Civilization of the Renaissance in Italy; the Dutch historian Huizinga called it, “that transcendent masterpiece.” A rare meeting between the perfect author and the perfect subject has produced an extraordinary work. The first three parts of the book are especially good — readable and interesting, profound and philosophical. The two pages on Leon Battista Alberti are unforgettable.

Alberti was a “Renaissance man”: he was interested in everything. After describing how Alberti studied music, law, physics, math, painting and literature, Burckhardt says “he acquired every sort of accomplishment and dexterity, cross-examining artists, scholars, and artisans of all descriptions, down to the cobblers, about the secrets and peculiarities of their craft.”1 Alberti had an extraordinary appetite for life; Burckhardt speaks of, “the sympathetic intensity with which he entered into the whole life around him. At the sight of noble trees and waving cornfields he shed tears; handsome and dignified old men he honored as a ‘delight of nature’, and could never look at them enough.”2 Such an appetite for life, such an attitude of wonder in the face of reality, is the essence of the Renaissance.

According to Burckhardt, during the Middle Ages “man was conscious of himself only as member of a race, people, party, family, or corporation,” but during the Italian Renaissance, “man became a spiritual individual.”3 Individuality reached its zenith, according to Burckhardt, in the Renaissance humanists, who turned their backs on Christianity, revered the ancients, and tried to live and write like the ancients.

Burckhardt’s History of Greek Culture, which is as interesting as his work on the Italian Renaissance, also deals with individuality. Burckhardt argues that the Greeks had a highly developed individuality, while other societies of the time crushed individuality beneath the weight of group, caste and morality.4

In addition to his works on the Greeks and the Italian Renaissance, Burckhardt wrote The Age of Constantine, which deals with a decadent phase of Roman history.

Huizinga also discusses the Middle Ages in Men and Ideas, a collection of essays. Most of the essays in Men and Ideas are excellent. In an essay called, “The Task of Cultural History,” Huizinga describes the type of history that he and Burckhardt wrote. Huizinga argues that history should resurrect the past, and should give the reader a sense of what it was like to be alive during a particular period. Huizinga deplores the modern tendency to write romanticized history and romanticized biography, to try to make history entertaining and amusing: “No literary effect in the world,” writes Huizinga, “can compare to the pure, sober taste of history.”6

Other essays by Huizinga are collected in a volume called Dutch Civilization in the Seventeenth Century and Other Essays. Much of this book is written not for the general reader, but for Huizinga’s fellow Dutchmen and contemporaries. Huizinga’s preoccupation with the Netherlands reminds one of Ortega’s preoccupation with Spain. In an essay called, “The Aesthetic Element in Historical Thought,” Huizinga declares that he has “faith in the importance of the aesthetic element in historical thinking,” and that he opposes the idea that history should attempt to be scientific. “The historian,” says Huizinga, “tries to re-experience what was once experienced by men like ourselves....The true study of history involves our imagination and conjures up conceptions, pictures, visions.”7

Huizinga’s In the Shadow of Tomorrow isn’t a historical work, but rather an analysis of Western civilization. It discusses the problems besetting the West, from moral anarchy to artistic decadence. Though it sometimes reminds one of Ortega’s Revolt of the Masses, it’s less pertinent to our time than Ortega’s work since much of it is a criticism of Fascism. It is, however, an interesting, brief and readable book. Huizinga notes that modern education and the mass media both have harmful effects on culture: “Our time [is] faced by the discouraging fact that two highly vaunted achievements of civilization, universal education and modern publicity, instead of raising the level of culture, appear ultimately to produce certain symptoms of cultural devitalisation and degeneration.”8

In looking at modern art, Huizinga finds a trend toward the irrational in both modern literature and modern painting. Literature and painting have become increasingly unintelligible. Throughout history, says Huizinga, poetry has always maintained “a certain connection with rational expression....It is not until the closing years of the [nineteenth] century that one sees poetry purposely steering its course away from reason.”9

Huizinga had a special interest in America and American history. He wrote Man and the Masses in America and also Life and Thought in America; these two books are sometimes published together in one volume. These books look at American history before 1925, and they also look at modern society in general, including newspapers, movies and literature. Huizinga pays special attention to the economic forces that have shaped American history.

In many of Huizinga’s works, he discusses the play element in culture. Finally, when his life was drawing to a close, and he was a prisoner of the Nazis, he collected his thoughts on this subject into a book called Homo Ludens: A Study of the Play-Element in Culture. Homo Ludens contains some very interesting ideas, but it presents these ideas in a rather dry and scholarly manner. Huizinga argues that play is one of fundamental facts of human life, and is at the root of poetry, music, philosophy — even jurisprudence and war. Anyone interested in plumbing the depths of human nature, anyone interested in the question of why people fight wars, create culture, etc., should take Huizinga’s ideas into account. Huizinga is discussing more than play, he’s discussing human nature, the fundamental drives within human nature. “The spirit of playful competition,” writes Huizinga, “is, as a social impulse, older than culture itself and pervades all life like a veritable ferment. Ritual grew up in sacred play; poetry was born in play and nourished on play; music and dancing were pure play....We have to conclude, therefore, that civilization is, in its earliest phases, played. It does not come from play...it arises in and as play, and never leaves it.”10

Huizinga’s book on Erasmus is an uninspired work, perhaps because Erasmus himself was uninspiring.

Many of Toynbee’s books are about current events. Even if one has no interest in the theory that Toynbee sets forth in his Study of History, Toynbee’s other books will still be of interest. Toynbee’s best work is Civilization On Trial, a collection of essays. Toynbee’s prose is learned and poetic, his ideas broad and profound.

Toynbee was struck by the change in the role of Europe that occurred during his lifetime: during his youth, Europe was on top of the world, and had colonies on every continent, but by the end of World War II, Europe had lost most of its colonies, and no longer dominated the world. But Western influence is still strong, even though the West doesn’t dominate the world as it used to; Toynbee foresaw “a radical Westernization of the entire world.”11 But as Western culture, once the possession of a small elite, is gradually dispersed through all social classes and all nations, its quality is lowered; the wider its dispersion, the lower its quality.

Non-Western nations are faced with a dilemma: to imitate the West, adopt a low form of Western culture, and lose their spiritual vitality and creativity, or to isolate themselves from the West. Toynbee points out that Japan tried first one approach then the other, first isolation then imitation. While Japan has attained material success, this success has come at the cost of spiritual vitality and creativity. Toynbee argues that even nations that succeed in imitating the West, as Japan has, can’t accomplish anything except “to enlarge the quantity of the machine-made products of the imitated society instead of releasing new creative energies in human souls.”12 Thus, while the Western world is in a difficult predicament, a spiritual crisis, so too the non-Western world is in a difficult predicament.

Toynbee thinks it’s imperative that the power of the United Nations be increased, so that it will gradually become a world government. The best hope for civilization is, in Toynbee’s view, to develop a world government and to build a world civilization on a religious foundation, a Christian foundation. In addition to A Study of History andCivilization On Trial, Toynbee wroteHellenism: The History of a Civilization, which is a clear and concise summary of ancient civilization, from Homer’s time to the fall of the Roman Empire; it emphasizes economics and military affairs. Toynbee also wrote — or rather, edited — Half the World: The History and Culture of China and Japan, which is an excellent introduction to China and Japan.

Though Rostovtzeff isn’t famous, he has a high reputation among scholars; Huizinga, for example, thought highly of Rostovtzeff. “The oppressing question,” wrote Huizinga, “with which Rostovtzeff concludes his Social and Economic History of the Roman Empire is still unanswered: ‘...Is it possible to extend a higher civilization to the lower classes without debasing its standard and diluting its quality to the vanishing point? Is not every civilization bound to decay as soon as it begins to penetrate the masses?’”13

The Ancient City, by Fustel de Coulanges, looks at the Greeks and Romans from the standpoint of cultural anthropology; it describes the primitive religious ideas that were the foundation of ancient society. The Ancient City is clear and readable, and throws light not only on the Greeks and Romans, but on primitive man in general. It describes how primitive man worshipped his ancestors, how each primitive family had its own religion, how the individual was submerged in the family, and how the eldest son carried on the family religion. It also describes how the ancient city-state developed out of the primitive family, and how the ancient statesman was both ruler and priest, just as the primitive father had been both ruler and priest.

No essay on the Western classics would be complete if it failed to mention the eighteenth-century English historian, Edward Gibbon, and his famous work, The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. Gibbon is known for his prose style and for his irreverent attitude toward religion. Gibbon’s prose is ponderous and precious, but it can teach one much about the English language. If you want a taste of Gibbon, read Chapter 15 of his Decline and Fall, a chapter which deals with the early Christians.

Herodotus, a Greek historian, is often called the father of history. Herodotus’s Histories deals with the wars between the Persians and the Greeks, and with other topics in ancient history. It’s a readable and entertaining work, sprinkled with stories and legends.

Thucydides wrote history in a more serious, sober and factual way than Herodotus did. Thucydides is the author of The Peloponessian War, which describes the war between Athens and Sparta (and their allies), a war in which Thucydides himself participated. Thucydides’s reputation is higher than that of any other ancient historian, with the possible exception of Tacitus. His work is profound and philosophical, as well as lively and readable. Thucydides views human affairs in a cold, unemotional way that reminds one of Machiavelli. Thucydides notes the changes in the Greek spirit that took place during the Peloponessian War: “There was a general deterioration of character throughout the Greek world. The simple way of looking at things, which is so much the mark of a noble nature, was regarded as a ridiculous quality and soon ceased to exist.”14

Livy is one of the earliest and most famous Roman historians. Livy is the author of a multi-volume work that begins with the founding of Rome and goes all the way to the end of the Roman Republic; only part of Livy’s work is still extant. Livy has long been a popular writer, but his reputation isn’t as high as that of Thucydides. Livy’s work is interspersed with legends and superstitions.

Julius Caesar is another early Roman historian, best known for his Gallic Wars, which describes Caesar’s own campaigns in Gaul. Caesar’s work is famous for the simplicity and clarity of its style.

Tacitus lived several generations after Livy and Caesar, and his work is more sophisticated and refined than the work of Livy and Caesar. Tacitus is the only Roman historian who rivals Thucydides in philosophical profundity and psychological subtlety. “One object only,” wrote Tacitus, “is to be pursued insatiably: the applauding voice of posterity. For by despising fame, the virtues that acquire it are despised.”15 Tacitus has long enjoyed a high reputation; Montaigne, Gibbon, and many others revered Tacitus as one of the greatest writers of ancient times. Tacitus is best known for his Histories and his Annals, both of which deal with the Roman Empire. Tacitus also wrote brief works on oratory, on the natives of Germany, and on his father-in-law, the general and governor Agricola. Much of Tacitus’s work has not survived. Tacitus’s work is famous for its dense, complex style, and for its bitterness toward the tyranny of the Roman emperors.

Suetonius lived a generation or two after Tacitus, when Roman civilization was sinking into decadence. Suetonius is the author of The Lives of the Caesars, a collection of biographies of Roman emperors. Suetonius writes bedroom history; his work contains much gossip and rumor. In fairness to Suetonius, however, it should be said that his work is readable and lively — more so than Tacitus’s — and it can teach one much about later Roman history.

An example of a book that ranks high in Effect, but is somewhat lacking in Quality, is The Year 1000: What Life Was Like At The Turn Of The First Millennium: An Englishman’s World. The authors of The Year 1000 (Robert Lacey and Danny Danziger) are experienced writers, journalists, people who make a living with their pen. They’ve succeeded in writing a readable, entertaining, interesting book; one is sorry when it ends. They haven’t succeeded, however, in writing a classic; their work is directed at the contemporary reader, not at posterity. Their knowledge of their subject is somewhat thin, and they lack the ability to reach general concepts, large ideas. But they’ve done a good job of collecting anecdotes, and weaving them into a narrative.

Robert E. Lee on Leadership, by H. W. Crocker, is a short biography of one of the most remarkable figures in American history. The literary value of the book is impaired by the author’s attempt to teach leadership techniques that can be used by business executives. But despite this flaw, the book is still readable and interesting. It views the Civil War from a Southern perspective that is refreshingly different from the standard, Northern perspective. Its bibliography can lead the reader to other good books about this dramatic period in American history. One book mentioned in this bibliography is A Rebel’s Recollections, a charming, well-written memoir by a Confederate soldier.

Many interesting works have been written about Napoleon. Napoleon: A Pictorial Biography, by André Maurois, is an excellent introduction to Napoleon. It’s as lively and readable as Maurois’s work on Voltaire. Napoleon the Man, by Merezhkovsky, is a brief and fascinating work. The quotations from those who were acquainted with Napoleon are the most interesting part of this book, much more interesting than the author’s own remarks. One who reads this book will want to read the primary sources from which Merezhkovsky gleans his quotations. But these primary sources are voluminous, and require far more patience from the reader than Merezhkovsky’s work requires.

As a boy, Napoleon was enthusiastic and idealistic. He was inspired by ancient history, by Plutarch’s stories of Greek and Roman heroes, and by French tragedies. He was determined to emulate the heroes of history and drama, and to do great things. He couldn’t understand why the people around him had no desire to be heroes. He turned his back on society; he was solitary and morose. Napoleon combined a knack for practical affairs with dreamy romanticism; one person who knew him said that he was “fond of everything which inclined towards reverie: the poems of Ossian, subdued light, melancholy music....Listening to subdued and slow music, he would fall into a kind of trance which none of us dared interrupt by the slightest movement.”16 The Personality of Napoleon, by J. H. Rose, is the opposite of Merezhkovsky’s Napoleon the Man: while Merezhkovsky deals with the soul of Napoleon, Rose deals with the policies of Napoleon — his legal, economic, political and military policies. Though it’s different from Merezhkovsky’s work, Rose’s work is well-written and interesting. Another interesting work about Napoleon is Herold’s The Mind of Napoleon, a collection of Napoleon’s remarks. The best full-length history of Napoleon is by Bourrienne, Napoleon’s schoolmate and secretary.17

The best book about Hitler is Speer’s Inside the Third Reich. Toland’s two-volume biography of Hitler is also a fascinating book, from which one can learn much about the history of the time, as well as about Hitler. Hitler’s autobiography, Mein Kampf, is occasionally interesting, as is Mussolini’s autobiography. Those interested in Mussolini should read Emil Ludwig’sTalks With Mussolini.

Kedourie’s political views were conservative. While liberals thought that Western nations were guilty of dominating and exploiting other cultures, Kedourie thought that Western nations were too quick to give independence to their colonies. Kedourie thought that the old colonial empires were, in many ways, better for everyone than the newly-independent nations. One liberal intellectual of whom Kedourie is especially critical is Toynbee; Kedourie’s essay, “The Chatham House Version,” is a scathing attack on Toynbee.19

Paul Johnson is another contemporary historian with a conservative orientation. Johnson’s book, Modern Times, is a survey of twentieth-century history. While Kedourie’s work is scholarly, serious and profound, Johnson’s work is anecdotal and journalistic. Johnson’s anecdotes often shock the reader, as when he describes a politician in India who began each day by drinking a glass of his own urine. But a great historical work is more than a string of anecdotes, it’s a serious commentary on the human condition. Unfortunately, modern historians have discovered that their books will be bestsellers if they’re crammed with spicy anecdotes.

Grunebaum is best known as the author of Medieval Islam. Grunebaum’s comments on Islamic literature are as perceptive as Goitein’s on Jewish literature. Grunebaum says that around the year 1000 A.D., Islamic civilization began to decline, and Islamic writers became preoccupied with style: “The writer no longer cares for the incident he describes; he cares only for his description. The facts are degraded to occasions for display — display, that is, of his literary skill, his wit, his erudition.”21 Grunebaum’s comments on Islamic literature and Islamic religion are so profound that they reach beyond Islam, and throw light on literature in general, and religion in general. He quotes a Muslim saint on sainthood: “The true saint goes in and out among the people and eats and sleeps with them and buys and sells in the market and marries and takes part in social intercourse, and never forgets God for a single moment.”22

The American diplomat and historian George Kennan is a writer whose works were widely read and widely praised. Kennan is one of the few writers who have created enduring literary works based on 20th-century history. Kennan’s remarkable literary achievements may be due, in part, to public appreciation. Kennan was internationally famous even before he wrote his first literary work, Russia Leaves the War (an account of Russia’s departure from World War I, published in 1956). Kennan’s specialty was foreign affairs in general and Russia in particular. In Kennan’s time, these subjects seemed important and relevant, and Kennan himself seemed to be at the center of world affairs. While other intellectuals may have felt that they were outside American society, irrelevant and ignored, Kennan was at the hub of the wheel, and this may explain why Kennan produced a body of literary work such as few American writers have ever produced.

Fame is a threat to solitude, and Kennan noted that, in the modern U.S., “success brought down upon the head of him who achieved it so appalling a flood of publicity and commercial pressures that he had only two choices: to emigrate and live abroad or never again to write anything worthwhile at all.” Kennan says he was besieged by “people who wanted jobs, people who wanted me to read their manuscripts,” people who wanted him to deliver a commencement speech, etc. On the other hand, Kennan seemed to sympathize with intellectuals who weren’t famous: “to have one’s name not known at all is to confront a barrier that can be broken through only with much effort and luck.”23 In short, Kennan discusses the subject of fame in the same interesting and profound way that he discusses so many other subjects.

Kennan’s work is full of fresh ideas and fresh insights into international affairs. Kennan is a master at weaving together an interesting narrative; Kennan is able to transport himself into the reader’s shoes, and to serve up the sort of tasty and hearty fare that he himself would enjoy, if he were the reader. Kennan has taste.

Kennan is a penetrating critic of American society. He notes that, “our country bristles with imperfections — and some of them very serious ones — of which we are almost universally aware, but lack the resolution and civic vigor to correct.” Kennan laments the “headlong overpopulation, industrialization, commercialization and urbanization of society.” He doubts whether American democracy can cope with American problems, and wonders whether a different political system could cope with them better. Although he concentrated on foreign affairs, “the exercise seemed increasingly, with the years, an empty one; for what use was there, I had to ask, in attempting to protect in its relations to others a society that was clearly failing in its relation to itself?”24

Before turning to biographies and autobiographies, mention should be made of Kissinger’s two volumes of memoirs. Like many modern historical works, Kissinger’s memoirs are so lengthy that they’re suitable only for specialists, not for general readers. But Kissinger’s work has a combination of profundity and humor that sets it apart from most modern works. “It is not often,” Kissinger writes of his first trip to China, “that one can recapture as an adult the quality that in one’s youth made time seem to stand still; that gave every event the mystery of novelty.... This is how it was for me as the aircraft crossed the snow-capped Himalayas.”25

Boswell recounts Johnson’s conversations, in which Johnson expresses his views on a wide range of subjects. Johnson’s political and religious views were generally conservative; Johnson didn’t agree with his contemporary, Rousseau, that everyone should work: “All would be losers, were all to work for all: — they would have no intellectual improvement. All intellectual improvement arises from leisure: all leisure arises from one working for another.”26

The autobiography of the Italian artist, Benvenuto Cellini, is almost as famous as Boswell’s Life of Johnson. But Cellini’s autobiography is merely an adventure story — sometimes entertaining, but never profound. Benjamin Franklin’s autobiography is more interesting than Cellini’s; Franklin’s autobiography was one of Kafka’s favorite books. But Franklin’s literary talents were limited, and his autobiography contains some heavy moralizing; it isn’t a first rate book.

Van Gogh’s letters to his brother, Theo, are a kind of autobiography. They should be read in an abridged version, and they’re usually published in an abridged version. Van Gogh’s letters are well-written, interesting and moving; they’re one of the outstanding works in world literature. Van Gogh vividly describes his struggles with poverty, loneliness, and lack of recognition. “My constitution would be sound enough,” writes van Gogh, “if I had not to fast so long, but I have had continually to choose between fasting and working less, and so far as possible I have chosen the former.”27 Van Gogh found solace for his sufferings in painting: “In my opinion I am often as rich as Croesus, not in money, but rich because I have found in my work something to which I can devote myself with heart and soul, and which gives inspiration and zest to life.”28

One of the most prolific modern biographers is the German writer, Emil Ludwig. Many of Ludwig’s full-length biographies (such as his biography of Napoleon) are mediocre. Some of his short biographies, however, are interesting. I recommend his book, Genius and Character, which is a collection of short biographies. Ludwig’s Three Titans — about Rembrandt, Michelangelo and Beethoven — is also interesting.

Lin Yutang is a modern Chinese writer who lived abroad, and spent his literary career teaching foreigners about China. One of his books is a biography of the eleventh century Chinese poet, Su Tungpo; it’s called The Gay Genius: The Life and Times of Su Tungpo. This book can teach one much about Chinese civilization. Lin Yutang has some literary talent, but like many modern writers, he doesn’t write concisely. His biography of Su Tungpo is considerably longer than it should be.

The best of all modern biographers is Lytton Strachey. Strachey was a friend of Virginia Woolf, and a member of the so-called Bloomsbury Group, which flourished in the early 20th century. Strachey admired French literature, and lamented that England (his native country) had never produced a biographer capable of “compressing into a few shining pages the manifold existences of men....To preserve [a] becoming brevity — a brevity which excludes everything that is redundant and nothing that is significant — that, surely, is the first duty of the biographer.”29 Strachey is best known as the author of Eminent Victorians, which compresses into a few shining and witty pages the lives of four Victorians: Cardinal Manning, Florence Nightingale, Dr. Arnold, and General Gordon. Eminent Victorians is a superb literary work. I also recommend Strachey’s Elizabeth and Essex, which brings the Elizabethan age alive in just 250 pages.