About book Pax Britannica: Climax Of An Empire (2002)
This is essential history.Amazon review:I'm in the midst of reading the trilogy, and I must say that, as a history major and history buff, I've never come across a history so well-told and of such consistent quality. And by "quality" I mean not only the quality of the prose itself but the editing. Those of us who read for pleasure and edification are aware of the sorry state of today's editing, or shall I say absence of editing. We've grown so accustomed to typos and repetition and horrible grammar, so tired of shouting to ourselves, "Where the hell is the editing?" that we find the meticulously edited Pax Britannica like a drink of cool, clear water in the desert. The above comment can be applied to all volumes of the trilogy. Climax of an Empire may give one the impression that Morris is an Imperialist himself. And why not? At its height the British Empire was indeed a splendid edifice which, on balance, was a noble cause. Yet, reading the final volume of the trilogy, Farewell The Trumpets: An Imperial Retreat, one can see that Morris has no illusions. Being a Welsh nationalist himself (now, herself), author James (now Jan) Morris certainly can't be accused of being a tory historian. Even in Climax of Empire, describing Pax Britannica at its most exhuberant, Morris is able to step back: "In Africa they would try...to weld the ancient orders into the structure of Empire, exactly fitting each measure of responsibility into an imperial pattern, so that the pettiest pagan wizard could play his part in the grand design. But by these visionary means nobody was satisfied. The Empire lost part of its point, and the Africans found themselves stuck in a bog of tradition, from which before long all the more intelligent ones did their best to escape." So, those of us with today's politically correct scorn of the benighted past need not censure ourselves for the irresistible delight we get from reading passages like: "Throughout the length and breadth of the Empire a well-spoken, reasonably well-connected young man, with a few introductions in the right places, and a sufficiently entertaining line in small talk, could travel by himself without feeling the need for a hotel." Or here, where he likens Queen Victoria to the Empire itself: "...proud and often overbearing, but with an unexpected sweetness at the heart; suburban and sometimes vulgar, sentimental, in old age less beautiful than imposing; girlishly beguiled by the mysteries of the Orient, maternally considerate towards the Natives, stubbornly determined to hang on to her possessions...." The entire trilogy reads this way. And the footnotes are just as delightful, often gossipy, often trenchant: "When there were no positive or acceptable rules to follow, they were told, they must consult two simple principles: 'Equity or Good Conscience'. [Footnote] "'Whichever,' cynics used to add, 'is the less.'" The fact is, that despite the real depredations by the Portuguese and Belgian imperialists, which gave imperialism a bad name, British imperialism, in and of itself, was benign, establishing peace, justice, integrity and stability, where before had reigned unbridled murder, tyranny, corruption and chaos. That this was only a veneer which would crumble as soon as the British left, says more about the resilience of barbarism than the merits of Pax Britannica. To be sure, only one "gift" of modernity seems to have been a welcomed and permanent addition to local cultures: guns and machetes. Here were far more efficient means for settling scores than spears and stones. And as we see today, from Afghanistan to Zimbabwe, and excepting India, the Anglo-Saxon dominions and a few others, civilization -- call it imperialism or colonialism -- seems to have made no impression at all. After the fall of the Roman Empire it took Europe centuries before Rome's former colonies rose on their own to the level of civilization imposed by Pax Romana. So it's no coincidence that the title of this grand trilogy, this masterpiece of historical narrative, is Pax Britannica.
The year 1897 is the peg upon which Jan Morris hangs her overview of the British Empire in the hour of its greatest glory. 1897 because it was the year of Victoria's golden jubilee, Queen for sixty years. As we approach a similar milestone in the reign of Elizabeth II the book acquires added piquancy. All over the map of the world in 1897 red marked the extent of British influence: "a begrudging kind of paradise," Morris calls it. A paradoxical paradise, too, for there was little uniformity to bind the various patches of land - from tiny atolls to semi-continents - which variably ruled themselves while always being subject to Victoria's government. "Legally," the author writes, "there was no such thing as a British Empire. It had no constitutional meaning. Physically, too, it was a kind of fiction, or bluff, in that it implied a far stronger power at the centre than really existed."But it worked. Strengths and weaknesses everywhere, but still it worked. There can be no greater praise for this book than to say that it encompasses the whole, black, white and grey, while constantly illuminating it with the detail. I quickly abandoned making notes; they were already too numerous to marshall sensibly. Page after page offers a telling vignette, a memorable phrase. At random, then, this miniature of life in the Raj: "The soldiers flirted in the public gardens. The officers played polo, sailed their yachts in the harbour, and sometimes went to cockfights, abetted by local Irishmen with fingers along the sides of their noses." In a few dozen words, the reader is taken there, seeing it as it was.This is serious history, seriously told, always enlivened, never cheapened, by Morris's love of a quirky anecdote. There are many but one, concerning William Packenham from a passage on memorable Royal Navy commanders, must suffice: "... when an elderly lady at a civic luncheon asked him if he was married, he replied courteously, 'No, madam, no. I keep a loose woman in Edinburgh.'"Pax Britannica is a worthy successor to the first in Jan Morris's brilliant trilogy, and an irresistible appetiser for the third.
Do You like book Pax Britannica: Climax Of An Empire (2002)?
Jan Morris wrote this in the 1960s, well before post-colonial theory was properly formulated or the fall out from the dismantling of colonial empires was as evident as it is today.But I would recommend this wholeheartedly to anyone even remotely interested in the politics, culture and societies of the lands that fell within the scope of British rule, or in the phenomenon of an empire that reached to most continents yet was based in a small island off the coast of Europe.In 1897, the year of Queen Victoria's Jubilee, the British Empire appeared to be at its peak. Its glories were celebrated in all colonies (less enthusiastically in some than others). It was held together, she remarks near the end of the book, by a combination of force (in occupied lands) and sentiment. The New Imperialism was in full swing in England itself, and the millions of Britons who had emigrated and settled in the colonies identified very strongly with England as the mother country. And although the feelings of native inhabitants of the countries occupied and settled by the British varied, the glories of the Empire and its sovereign were celebrated around the globe.Morris writes that she set out to try 'to evoke the feeling of Britishness in 1897 as it was manifested throughout the globe' (p.11). She has organised the book primarily in themes, ranging from migrations, glory, caste (which she uses often where I would use class, but nevertheless the fine gradings of status, inclusion and exclusion are dealt with0, the armies and navies that maintained British power, pioneers and settlers. architecture, dying young and the British empire as a development agency. More time is given to India than any other colony, appropriate to its central importance to British trade, wealth and sense of importance in the world. She makes broad general statements that allow you to pout together things you haven't put together before, and to see familiar things in a new light. the broad weep is backed up with a glorious mass of anecdote. Sometimes the facts get lost in the sweep of a fine phrase or clever thought, but overall I found I enjoyed the broad sweep and general sparkling tone that didn't mind even the inaccuracies I picked up about my own part of the world, Adelaide inSouth Australia, where she has surveyor Light select the site of the future capital of South Australia by climbing a bluff near Holdfast Bay. There is not a hill, cliff or bluff for miles. There would have been a sand dune he could have climbed but that's it. This broad survey, remarkable in its scope and depth, is a marvellous read, coloured throughout with Morris's sometimes sardonic view of the English and an eye for comedy and farce as well as pomp and circumstance. On every page is an idea, a sentence that cries out to be noted - but I haven't done it because my notes would be far too long and I would rather re-read the lively prose of the original. Now to gear myself for the wars and unravelling of the twentieth century.
—Lyn Elliott
