ResoluteReader: May 2025

Tuesday, May 27, 2025

Lyndal Roper - Summer of Fire and Blood: The German Peasants' War

Lyndal Roper is one of the most prominent historians of Germany in the Reformation era. Her books include an excellent biography of Martin Luther, which I reviewed here. Just in time for the 500th anniversary her monumental history of the German Peasants' War has been published. It has been eagerly anticipated by me and many others interested in the period.

Roper argues that understanding the Reformation, and its "possiblities, as well as its limits" cannot be done without an understanding of the German Peasants' War. But likewise the War cannot be understood without knowing "the heady atmosphere of religious excitment in which it took place". The book begins with the context for the rebellion - the religious turmoil and the conditions of oppression and exploitation of the peasants. It was a very different world. One where

animals such as oxen, horses, cows, pigs, sheep and poultry lived closely with people, and where the vagaries of the weather mattered in a way that modern generations have often forgotten. The relationship between labour, harvest, and food was obvious, rather tahn mediated by powerful firms and complex industrial processes. The energy to drive machines came from water, from wood and from charcoal and it was clear who owned these resources and evident when they restricted access to them.

Roper casts peasant life (and struggles) in its ecological context - referencing the way they relied on, understood and shaped their landscape. She understands that their relationship to the land was more than a negative one, and she criticises contemporaries, even radicals such as Michael Gaismair, when they don't grasp the peasant ecological reality.

Roper also shows how the context for the rebellion, and the Reformation, was a slowly changing world. Referring to the rebels' grievances she says:

The sense of exploitation is unmistakable in these grievances, as is the sheer drudgery of agricultural labour. And yet the precise cause of the misery remains intangible, a fact that may well have increased the peasants' anger, while also making it harder to negotiate in the time honoured way, becamse more than just specific practices were at stake. Though they doubtless idealised a golden age that had never existed, peasants were complaining that relationships which had formerly been based on mutual respect had become matters of compulsion. The entire system had become more complex because of its growing entanglement in an economy where many owned rural rights.

The close links between exploitation of the peasants' labour, their ecological context and the rebellion's demands are drawn out well. As Roper writes in an illuminating sentence "for the peasants, the land was a working environment; for the lords it was a locale of peasure - and a resource to be exploited for profit."

The rebellion condensed all the anger and frustrations that the peasants' were experiencing. Roper's book explores these well, but its strength is her understanding that the rebellion arose out of the context of the Reformation and a changing economy, but then went on to pose alternatives. The Reformation, she writes, "provided a set of ideas shown that such [existing] arrangements were 'not Christian'. They had to be transformed." In the early weeks of the rising, "lordship was exposed as a bond not of affection but of domination". Consequently, the "whole social structure therefore fissured under the impact of the peasants' revolt."

What was the alternative? Much is made, rightly in my opinion, of the politics of the more utopian minded of the radical leaders - Thomas Müntzer and Michael Gaismair in particular. But running through the peasant demands from 1524 and 1525 is a vision of a world turned both upsidedown - there would be no serfs, priests would be elected, taxes would be raised locally and controlled demoncratically. But it would also be a world that functioned in a new way. The vision was not of an anarchist utopia with no leaders, but one of a "new kind of authority in which men of respect, locally known and chosen, would have power". But what was this power? Roper suggests it would have been very different to the power known from feudalism:

It took imagination to conceive of a world without the lordship that the peasants knew. They probably did not want to overturn the entire system of authority, or at least not at first, nut merely to change the system of landlordship. And yet their slogn, "We want to have no lords". addressed everyone - peasants, miners and townsfolk alike - because everyone had some experience of lordship in its different forms or could tell a story about the overbearing behaviour of some lord or other. In its place they wanted a society based on mutuality, brotherhood and trust... they began to envision a world without the familiar semifeudal structures, with a new kind of rulership that would give them agency and the power to decide.

It was a great vision, and the ruling class had to destroy it by drowning it in blood. In her grasp of this, and other key dynamics of the period and the rebellion, Roper's book is exemplary.

Roper writes from a feminist viewpoint,and she does her best to highlight the central role of women in the rebellion. While we know only a few names of women involved in the rebellion, Roper does give us many examples of their anonymous involvement. I didn't always agree with the conclusions that arose from this viewpoint, such as her suggestion that the anonymous author of the remarkable revolutionary pamphlet To the Assembly of the Common Peasantry is writing an explicity "male vision" of revolution. Here the problem is partly language. "Brotherly love" and "brother" in the context of mass rebellion, may well be meant to include women. But it might simply not have mattered to the ordinary women and men who were engaged in a revolutionary struggle and were constructing their own "vision" and challenging those who were holding on to older stereotypes and prejudices.

Roper makes some important points about sexual violence in the conflict. She notes that the threat of such violence was used by some of the peasants against the wives and daughters of the lords, their enemies. But she concludes "the peasant armies do not appear to have used rape as a tool of domination". The counter-revolutionary forces on the other hand, did use such violence on a large scale. Given the accusations levelled against the peasants by their contemporary enemies, and ones since, this is an important corrective.

Roper's argues that the peasants' "ideal of brotherhood created potential kinship even with the lords, constraining the wish to make the enemy's women bear one's children." I think this gets closer to an understanding of the Peasants' War as a revolutionary movement, motivated by ideals. The discipline of its participants in the peasant armies arises out of common radical visions and politics.

But its on the question of revolution that Roper is less clear. This is particularly obvious in her critique of Marx and Engels.

She goes so far as to say that "an unwillingness to theorise how peasants engaged in revolution was one of Marxism's great failures". This is a unhelpful, and inaccurate, generalisation. In fact Marx's analysis of the peasantry is remarkably useful for understanding the failure of the peasants to achieve their aims in 16th century Germany. Roper dismisses Marx's comment that the peasantry is a "sack of potatoes". She does this because she understands it as meaning that "peasants are all the same". But Marx was actually discussing the economic reality of a peasant economy, that it is made up of multitudes of independent producers. Following the "potato" quote, Marx wrote:

Insofar as millions of [peasant] families live under conditions of existence that separate their mode of life, their interests, and their culture from those of the other classes, and put them in hostile opposition to the latter, they form a class. Insofar as there is merely a local interconnection among these small-holding peasants, and the identity of their interests forms no community, no national bond, and no political organization among them, they do not constitute a class. They are therefore incapable of asserting their class interest in their own name, whether through a parliament or a convention.

The differing interests of the peasant households would inevitably lead to tensions and contradictions that would undermine any victory over the feudal lords, unless there could be a breakthrough elsewhere in society. But in 16th century Germany, the economic base in the urban areas was insufficiently developed to allow the urban producers to build a society based on collective production. Thus the best that the peasants could hope for was to win some temporary space and defeat particular lords, but they could not hope to defeat feudalism and institute a new social order. This is the source of Engels' powerful passage about Thomas Münzter being a leader ahead of his time. He could imagine the future, but not be in a position to win it, but nevertheless be compelled to fight for it.

Marx and Engels' argument that the peasants could not win in 1525, was not because they were "mesmerised by industrial production", but because he and Marx understood that it would take further economic development at the base of European society before a system of general abundance and sustainability could be created. Roper's attacks on Marxism here felt like they were responding more to the crude economistic Marxism of the East German historians than the actual ideas of Marx and Engels.

When I set out to write this post I hoped that I wouldn't end up writing the sort of review that just denounces an author for getting Marx completely wrong. I have probably failed in that ambition. So I want to emphasise that how remarkable I think that Lyndal Roper's book is. Even for those of us who have spent years reading about the subject she has found a wealth of new material. I read and re-read sections with great excitement and found fresh insights in every chapter and learnt a great deal. I should also add that I think the book is beautifully produced and illustrated. If I disagree with her I do share Roper's inspiration at the peasants' desire to fight for a better world. So while I disagree with Roper's theoretical framing I hope people will read and enjoy Summer of Fire and Blood.

Saturday, May 24, 2025

Franz Mehring - Absolutism & Revolution in Germany 1525-1848

Franz Mehring was one of the most fascinating characters to come out of the great period of central European Marxist thought in the early 20th century. Initially an social democrat, he developed into a serious Marxist thinker and historian. When I originially picked up this book I assumed it was a single work, but in fact it is an edited volume of works about the history of Germany, written as educational booklets for the Marxist schools that were part of German Social Democracy in the 1900s.

I was particularly interested in his writing on the German Reformation, "and its consequences", which built upon the insights and approach taken by Friedrich Engels in his writing on the German Peasants' War. Disappointingly for me, this is the shortest section, but nonetheless it is packed with insights. Especially around the consequences of the counter-revolutionary defeat of the peasantry.

Mehring writes about the defeat, in a characteristicly colourful way, "the blood of the peasants flowed in rivers on German soil... and yet, in the long run, this fearful defeat did not worsen the position of the peasant class." He continues by explaining how all the other classes, "the clergy, the nobility and the towns" were victims of the revolution and its defeat, and continues:

Thus only the princes had any real advantages from the pesasants war. They seized the property of the Church; a gertaer or a lesser part of the nobility had to recognise their authority, and the fines from the towns flowed into their coffers. Apart from the secular principalities there were still, it is true, ecclesiastical rulers, town republics, and sovereigh Counts and Lords. But in gernal historical development in Germany was driving towards provincial centralisation and the subordination of all other estates of the empre by the princes.

He then goes on to say, "the German Reformation, after the revolutionary fire had been extinguished with the blood of the peasants, became a campaign of robbery and plunder by the German princes and their ever growing emancipation from Imperial authority". It is this that shapes the following centuries of politics for Germany, and these then form the basis for Mehrings remaining accounts in the book.

Some of this is difficult for readers not seeped in Germany history. I found the chapter on the evolution of the "Brandenburg-Prussian State" interesting, but hard work. This looks at the series of rulers of that crucial German state, such as the "enlightened despot" Frederick II, who was trapped in a situation where the economic evolution of his state did not match that of comparable monarchs across Europe. The importance of the French Revolution for Mehring is that it both demonstrates a way forward for the masses, and is the hammer that smashes upon the German anvil transforming Germany and shaping the outlook of its rulers. It was the French Revolution that "restored the vitality of a Germany that had defenerted in the swap of feudalism". By the 1830s, the situation was smoothering for the German bourgeoisie who were trapped by the older fetters of feudal relations, and by the realities of wider European politics. Mehring writes:

It was the renown, and the undoing, of this class [the German bourgeoisie] that it could win itse revolutiion gloriously enough in the cloudy heights of literature and philosophy, but never on level ground with bare fists and cold steel.

That said, the beginnings of capitalism within Germany at this time were seeing immense fortunes made for a tiny minority on the backs of hard labour for the masses. Mehring documents these realities, and the early struggles of the German proletariat. "The original accumulation of capital was only carried out in Germany in blood, misery and shame."

The final section, and probably the most important, of Mehring's book deals with the 1848 revolution and the class struggles within. Again, this will introduce many names and events that the non-German reader might be unfamiliar with, but the chapter can be read as a sweeping introduction to the class tensions within the 1848 revolution as it evolved in Germany. But betraying its origin in works presented to students of the Social Democratic Party's internal schools, the book fails to really teach the modern reader the events and how they concluded. I found it useful and interesting, but intend to go away and study the period more, before returning to Mehring's analysis. I suspect that his detailed study of the class conflict and tensions within the revolution will help readers understand more general history's of the period. That said, there's much here, and this is an excellent example of the Marxist method in history.

Sunday, May 18, 2025

Austin Fisher - Radical Frontiers in the Spaghetti Western: Politics, Violence and Popular Italian Cinema

As an avid watcher of westerns, and a particular fan of the Spaghetti Western, I was drawn to Austin Fisher's book on radical politics and the genre. It is primarily an academic read, developed from Fisher's PHd thesis. Nonetheless it is readable, interesting and politically quite sharp. Fans looking for a history of the genre, or accounts of the making of particular films, will be disappointed. This is primarily a book about the politics and the political context of the development of the Spaghetti Western.

Some 500 such westerns were made at the height of the influence of Italian filmmaking, and Fisher notes a number of reasons for this. The Italian government was more liberal in its attititudes to violence on screen, costs were lower, there was also huge investment and involvement from US film companies that saw in Italian cinema an opportunity to make a lot of money. In addition US cinema was waning slightly under pressure from television, while in poorer Italy it was still massively popular. Fisher repeatedly warns however, that understanding Italian cinema in general, and the western's in particular, means placing them in their wider context. Discussing the 1969 film Sono Sartana, il vostro becchino (I Am Sartana, Your Angel of Death) Fisher describes it's "comic-book facade... a sinister film with assassins hiding in every shadow, working for a conspiracy run by society's guardians and using the law as cover."

However Fisher continues:

It is true that many of the films cited here... use this moral universe as a backdrop for eccentric action and physical comedy, and should not be mistaken for committed Marxist expositions. Nevertheless, narratives which unambigulously assert that the forces of law and order in an outwardly liberal society amount to an authoritarian conspiracy must, in the volatile political arena of the late 1960s, be appraised in their full historical context. This trend of Westerns spans the very period during which the international student movement and some of its attendant extra-parliamentary groupings emerged, flourished, and descended into armed insurgency.

There are several important issues that Fisher brings to the fore here, and in the book. The first is the wider context if radicalism of the late 1960s, the anti-Vietnam war movement, US imperialism, the Cold War and so on. The other is the limited politics of the Italian left which saw some groups descending into terrorist and violent actions. Another issue for Fisher is a key strategy of the Italian Communist Party to develop (and highlight) Italian culture as contrary to the spread of capitalist ideas and culture from the US and US cinema. As an aside I think Fisher under develops this interesting point, failing to see the Italian CP as tied to the Soviet Union, and thus part of a global strategy against the US.

The involvement of Marxists and revolutionaries in filmmaking and many (but by no means all) Spaghetti Westerns is striking. How successful was it in spreading radical ideas. It would seem that it was limited. Fisher argues:

Italian Westerns oer se were by no means received in mainstream circles - countercultural or otherwise - as films with a capacity for radicalism at all. The amoral nihilism of Leone (and of the majority of Spaghettis) most certainly resonated with the zeitgest at a time when Vietnam was dismantlying what Engelhardt dubs 'victory culture;' and a perceived social breakdown was devilling conceptions of the American Draeam. Such a representation of a broken society... was by no means one with appeal exlusively to the radical Left. Possible the single most visible influence from the filone in mainstream Hollywood cinema of the arly 1970s... advocated nopt a countercultural but a reactionary response.

Indeed it would seem that ahistorically, Westerns do not lend themselves to radical ideas of mass collective action, strikes, protests and anti-war action. Their heroes are usually individuals, their violent revenge is usually outside the law etc. Nonetheless at the time of My Lai, killings of students, the Civil Rights movement and Nixon, as Fisher points out, "films depicting corrupt corporations, sadistic military institutiosn and deceitful governments" were "inextricably tied to the parochial concerns of the Nixon era".

They were also, sometimes, overtly political and revolutionary. Two stand out for me: Bullet for the General and A Fistful of Dynamite. Both of which centre on the radical politics of the Mexican Revolution (the later also involving Irish liberation struggles). Others, such as Faccia a faccia (1967) chart how individuals politics change in the context of wider struggles. For Fisher's "pivotal" year of 1968, when insurrectionary resistance in the Global South, was combining with the explosive development of radical politics in the US and Western, these were powerful themes.

But perhaps the most important point that Fisher is making is that the political westerns he celebrates develop in three way tension with European left politics, the global political situation, and also a "fascination with US culture" and film. For every explicitly radical film such as A Fistful of Dynamite, there is also a highly political, but less obviously one such as, The Great Silence, and countless films that aren't political in an overt sense at all, even if they reflect wider contexts admirably. It is, as he says, viewers who "create 'meanings' through the artefacts of popular culture" and in the political Western, it is "one such audience" that engages with such a process of "negotiation, appropriation and reformulation".

Radical Frontiers is required reading for every left fan of the genre. I am sad I didn't get round to this earlier, though my to watch list is now three times its old length. Other films are getting a rewatch.

Related Reviews

Stone - The 50 Greatest Westerns
Bach - Final Cut: Dreams & Disaster in the Making of Heaven's Gate
Biskind - Easy Riders, Raging Bulls

Eric Ambler - Journey into Fear

In 1940, during the "phoney" years of the Second World War, the conflict looked very different. Bombs had yet to fall on British or Germany cities. France was still uninvaded, and undefeated, and most people thought the war would probably end up like the First - bogged down in trenches. This entertaining spy thriller written during that period, thus lacks the knowledge of what would come next, and it makes for a surprisingly low key, if tense novel that lays the foundations of thrillers to come.

Eric Ambler's Journey into Fear features Graham - an unassuming military engineer who is in Turkey to sell weapons to a country that many hoped would become an early ally of Britain and France against Germany. (Spoiler: It didn't). As such these arms sales are vital to British interests, and the Turkish government. Graham survives two assassination attempts and the authorities put him on a ship as the train to France and on to England is too dangerous. Graham quickly realises that the assassins are with him on the ship. The crew think him paranoid, and he has only a nightclub dancer and an assortment of eccentric travellers to assist him.

Its an unusual combination of espinoage thriller and locked room mystery. Who is exactly who is as important as the build up to the action packed ending. There's little here of the military details and sex that bedevils those who came after. But there's some brilliant period background and an exciting plot. You can see shades of Len Deighton, John le Carre and others here. Entertaining and nostalgic. I'm delighted to discover it was made into a Orson Welles' film in 1943.

Related Reviews

Ambler - The Mask of Dimitrios

Monday, May 12, 2025

Daniel Mason - North Woods

Ever wonder what happened in the house you live in before you did? Or on the land it stands on? North Woods is an entertaining, if disappointing, exploration of this intriguing concept which follows a small plot of land in Massachusetts from roughly the time of European colonisation onward. The people who live there, from a couple whose illicit love affair means they must flee a tyrannical puritan colony, to twin sisters who succeed their father in the house and grow one of the most beautifully tasting apples in an orchard on the land to modern times when families, isolated individuals and lovers make the place their own. The land, and the house on it, grows and shrinks over time as people make adjustments removing beloved orchards, neglecting (or loving) the land or even digging a swimming pool.

It is an intriguing idea, but the author is trying too hard to be epic. The book feels like a loose collection of interconnected stories tied together by the land and the supernatural elements that mean many of the characters remain in the house and influence those that come after. The problem is the supernatural element doesn't quite work - it is too unclear how and why the ghostly remains influence the world and why - and the ending just doesn't work. Some reviewers have enjoyed what they see as an ecological story in the book - but this is just window dressing. The woods are cleared, they regrow, and some species arriving on American shores from elsewhere, having an impact through the book. But if anyone expects this to produce a metaphor for humanities' impact on nature, or even something deeper, they'll be disappointed.

North Woods is not a particularly bad novel. But I struggled to be that enthusiastic. It's a one trick pony.

Friday, May 09, 2025

Adrian Tchaikovsky - Service Model

Readers who enjoy Adrian Tchaikovsky's innovating and often surprising science-fiction may find themselves surprised by Service Model. Normally Tchaikovsky's books are set in worlds with exotic alien flora and fauna, with humans grappling with the complexities of world's outside their experience. Service Model however deals with intelligence of a different form, grappling with the complexities of a world outside their experience.

Meet Charles. Charles is a robot valet, an AI with a clever enough brain for it to perform complex tasks such as laying out clothing and managing its human's appointment diary. Deviation from these tasks means following a somewhat limited decision tree, further restricted by Charles' limited experience of a world beyond the household of its master. When something goes badly wrong with the human Charles' is supposed to valet for, a combination of Charles' limited programming and problems with what passes for authorities forces Charles into the outside world.

Here's the interesting thing. We as the reader can appreciate things Charles' cannot. The robot has entered a world in collapse. Human society has broken down. Charles' home may have been one of the last bastions of society. Outside its chaos. Service robots continue to try to maintain the systems - mowing lawns or keeping deliveries going, even when there's no fuel or part, or even things to deliver. We can appreciate the horror. Charles just goes searching for the next stage in it's to-do list.

While we might be used to Tchaikovsky's books showing humans wandering through a dark, dangerous and incomprehensible world, in this case, its a robot in an incomprehensible, but still oddly human world. Will Charles' find someone to serve? Will he find a role? Or will he break free of the constrains of his programming - these are the central questions.

Service Model is a darkly humourous story. I enjoyed it a lot, and I appreciated the unexpected ending. It's a good read, but probably not one I will return too. An interesting take on questions of AI and what it is to be conscious - big questions for the 21st century.

Wednesday, May 07, 2025

Moudhy Al-Rashid - Between Two Rivers: Ancient Mesopotamia and the Birth of History

Ancient Mesopotamia, the "land between the rivers", sits between the Tigris and Euphrates. An incredibly fertile region, its agricultural food surplus permitted an amazing civilisation to flourish with associated art, military power, royal luxury and monumental buildings. In the 1920s archaeologists excavating a palace building in the pyramid of Ur found a remarkable room filled with items from Mesopotamia's history. The odd thing was that these seemed to be in a place that was built much more recently. In other words these older objects had been moved to a newer room. The headline grabbing speculation was this was an ancient museum.

The pyramid of Ur is old and survived for thousands of years. Its most recent inhabitants, far in our own past, would also have been aware of their own history stretching back thousands of years. In fact, as Moudhy Al-Rashid says:

History, memory and antiquity were important in ancient Mesopotamia and it was not unusual - or even problematic - to blend history and myth. The older a thing or person or event was, the more important it was. Kings regularly sought to root their royal activities and even identities in bygone ages. The Sumerian King List, as a record stretching into a past so distant no sources even survive to corrobaorate it, allowed later kings to associate themselves with such a long list of greatness. The people who wrote the list were attempting the very same thign I am in this book - a history of their ancient past.

The centrality of history, and myth to the Mesopotamian view of themselves is what makes the idea of an ancient musuem so intriguing. So in her exploration of ancient Mesopotamia, Al-Rashid takes the objects found in the "museum" and discusses them in detail to interogate both the ancient history and what history means to us. Its an entertaining exploration of a part of history that I knew little about.

Part of what makes this point in history so fascinating is that it is so well documented. This is, in no small part, due to the myriad of clay tablets inscribed with cuneiform writing. These tablets document everything from orders by shopkeepers to instructions to the king's personnel. There are also letters between sisters, tables of school children who are practising their letters, together with sketches of their teachers. With these, sometimes very dull and sometimes very moving, documents we see both how the people of the region organised their economies and the things they were interested in. Al-Rashid's expertise is these cuneiform tablets and her enthusiasm shines through. Sadly there are no pictures of the tablets she discuses, so its hard to imagine them. But Al-Rashid's descriptions of the tablets, and crucially, the evolution of the writing form is detailed. This is how we begin to see these objects as parts of an evolving history that has shaped our own.

But in describing the objects and tablets Al-Rashid gives us further insights. The history of the past, as the "king lists" suggest is often the history of a wealthy few. But Al-Rashid digs through this to try and draw out more about who made up the majority of society, and how they lived and worked. She writes:

Some of the earliest cuneiform texts from two of the oldest Mesopotamian cities, Uruk and Jemdet Nasr, record lists of workers whose sexes were labelled in the same way as those of cattle using signs that resembled genitalia. They were counted and accounted for like animals.... Other qualifications also appeared alongside people's names, including the combinations of the signs for 'head' and 'rope' to refer to a person led by a noose, and one sign that simply means 'yoke'.

The wealth of places like Ur and its palaces rested on the hard, and often forced, labour of tens of thousands of workers. As Al-Rashid says these people are barely recorded and remembered apart from a few passing cuneiform references. The rich however are memorialised, and "took their stories into death, along with their many privileges, proppsed up by an economic system that concentrated wealth, for the most part, in the hands of palaces and temples for partial redistribution to a wider population of dependents."

Indeed for those at the bottom of Mesopotamian society somethings were horrific. Some cuneiform records record how parents were forced to sell their own children, even babes in arms, into slavery. Al-Rashid is careful to explore the way the ancient texts demonstrate the reality of the past's class societies:

Cuneiform preserves the stories of people whose work in many ways made life in ancient Mesopotamia possible. The agricultural labrouers who harveted grain, factory workers who made textiles, and the runaway slaves (and perhaps even their bounty hunters) live on in the tiny triangles from ancient Mesopotamia and provide a glimpse of what life might have been life for those whose stories were wtitten down by and for others.

It is unusual to find a book about the ancient past that takes serious questions of class, gender and power. Mesopotamia was a system that produced great wealth, but we rarely hear about those who created it. As Brecht wrote so memorably:

Who built Thebes of the 7 gates?
In the books you will read the names of kings.
Did the kings haul up the lumps of rock?
And Babylon, many times demolished,
Who raised it up so many times?
In what houses of gold glittering Lima did its builders live?
Where, the evening that the Great Wall of China was finished, did the masons go?

Al-Rashid's book does its best to rescue those forgotten lives and place them in the context of their wider world. Its a great book whose only fault in my view is that it lacks a map and any illustrations. A few pictures of the objects described, and a few images of cuneiform tables and their translations would have made all the difference. But don't let this stop you getting a copy and devouring it.

Sunday, May 04, 2025

Margaret Mead – Coming of Age in Samoa

Margaret Mead’s Coming of Age in Samoa is one of the most well-known books of anthropology ever written. Mead was in her 20s when she took the audacious trip to Samoa, and then on to the smaller island of Taʻū to live with the Samoan community there. Her account of the lives of the people there, and her focus on the lives of young women was extremely unusual for the time. First published in 1930 the book carries with it some contemporary prejudices, though it must be said that at the same time the book is remarkably progressive for the time – simply taking issues such as female sexuality and gender issues seriously was radical.

The book was written explicitly as a popular work, and is devoid of the complex anthropological classifications and relationship diagrams that bedevil other, similar works. The book is also written as a polemic, aimed at a Western audience (primarily in the United States), about education and development of young people. As Mead writes in her original introduction,

this tale of another way of life is mainly concerned with education, with the process by which the baby, arrived cultureless upon the human scene, becomes a full-fledged adult member of his or her society. The strongest light will fall upon the ways in which Samoan education, in its broadest sense, differs from our own. And from this contrast we may be able to turn, made newly and vividly self-conscious and self-critical, to judge anew and perhaps fashion differently the education we give to our children.

The opening chapter describes daily life in Samoa, a mix of work, play and rest, centred on the production of food (through fishing and agriculture) and the various roles that people play. While Samoa is not a pre-class society, in fact it is heavily hierarchical on a regional and very local scale, it is a society where class differences matter much less than in capitalist society. Chiefs and heads of households have more of a role in terms of managing and organising, at least at the time that Mead visited, village life. The collection of a surplus allows more for the functioning of ceremonial, religious and celebratory life, than the maintenance of a position of power and wealth.

There are strict gender roles as well. However gendered labour is also shaped by differences related to age. Women, and girls, primarily focus on the home, though some girls and women also fish and collect food and some boys work in the home cooking. Age also plays a role in determining hierarchy in a way that is far more than just who is more important than others. For instance, children, including very small children often look after younger children. But all children understand that older people have authority to order them about. This means children are central to Samoan production, but they are also more collectively looked after and developed. They are also freer, at least as they become teenagers, to change households and move about. Meads explorations of the way age, class and gender inter-relate and sympathetic and detailed and make for real insights into a society very different from ours. Indeed this forms the very basis for her points about shining a light on our own education systems.

One important aspect to Samoan culture however was its close nature. Children were much more exposed to the realities of human life – death, birth and sex – than Westerners, especially in Mead’s era. As such children where not sheltered from sex, death and birth. Sex in particular is part of getting older. Children clearly experimented more in Samoan culture, and were prepared and protected. There is also a curious difference between the sexuality of young people before marriage and that after. Young people seemed to have frequently sexual encounters, both hetro and homosexual, and it seems that their first sex was usually with an older person. This latter part feels uncomfortable and it is not clear to me from Mead’s writing exactly how this works unless it is abusive. Some of the sexual realities of Samoan society are, however, much more progressive than our own. The acceptance of homosexuality as a natural part of life for younger people is very different, though again Mead does recount a case of “deviance”, to use her word, where an older male Samoan who might be considered transsexual and/or homosexual is treated with disdain by the community and, indeed the author. Despite Mead’s own possible bisexuality, her comments about homosexuality in Samoan society imply it is merely a childhood distraction, or “deviance”. with hindsight this seems either naïve, a mistake or perhaps Mead recognising that Western society would not accept a truthful account.

Mead also shows that rape, in a particular form, seems to have been relatively common. She writes:

Between the unmarried there are three forms of relationship: the clandestine encounter, “under the pam trees,” the published elopement, Avaga, and the ceremonious courtship in which a boy “sits before the girl”; and on the edge of these, the curious form of surreptitious rape, called moetotolo, sleep crawling, resorted to by youths who find favour in no maiden’s eyes.

These relationships and realities belay the idea that Samoan society in this period was a Utopia. While there were clearly more open and relaxed attitudes to sex, and young people did seem to enjoy and have freedom to explore their sexuality before marriage, it is also true that there were some violent and unpleasant traditions and beliefs. The focus, within the community on "deflowering" of young women and the moetotolo that is related to this, imply a structural problem within Samoan society's approach to women. It demonstrates that for all its positives in its approach to sexuality, Samoan culture had, at the time, an unequal setup between men and women, and consequent unequal power relations.

Nonetheless Mead's work does remind us that societies can be organised very differently. For instance, Mead reports that her Samoan friends laughed at the story of Romeo and Juliet, believing the idea of lifelong romantic monogamy hilarious. This was not because marriage and love did not happen, or that lifelong love between partners did not occur, but because the idea of a couple only having sex with one another for their whole lives was impossible to understand.

Indeed adultery and consequent punishment did happen. But it punishment was usually about the offended party being paid a fine, such as some well-made mats.

Mead’s discussion of the economic life of Samoan people tells us much about different approaches to life. She tackles questions that remain extremely relevant – how does a differently organised society change approaches to things like Mental Distress, loneliness and love. One interesting point is that the role of the immediately family is much less significant to Samoan people. Mead says:

It is interesting to note that a larger family community, in which there are several adult men and women, seems to ensure the child against the development of the crippling attitudes which have been labelled Oedipus complexes, Electra complexes and so on.

The Samoan picture shows that it is not necessary to channel so deeply the affection of a child for its parents and suggests that while we would reject that part of the Samoan scheme which holds no rewards for us, the segregation of the sexes before puberty, we may learn from a picture in which the home does not dominate and distort the life of the child.

These are interesting points. The central role of the “bourgeois” family in Western society is remarkably constraining. Leaving aside Mead’s dated psychiatric comments and her framing from her own, much more segregated society, the point that an extended family allows much wider child development still stands.

There are, of course, problems. Mead’s work is often shaped by her own times and as such some of the language and analysis absolutely jars. She also knows that she is seeing Samoan society in a period of rapid change, as US influence is changing things dramatically. She notes, for instance, that the recent compulsory attendance of children at school by the authorities is quickly destroying traditional society which relies heavily on child labour to care for the youngest children and prepare food. This would only be exacerbated in the decades after the period when Mead was writing.

It is also clear that Mead’s approach to certain key questions relies too heavily on a belief that adult behaviour develops just from conditioning in childhood. Yes the differences between Samoan and Western societies are important and the different approach to education is tremendously important. But the organisation of the “economic base” in Western society shapes these factors, rather than simply a desire to educate differently.

These problems aside this is a tremendously influential and significant work. The attacks on Mead’s work by later anthropologists seem, in no small part, to stem from a belief that young women were not, and could not, be the independent, sexual and confident people that Mead described. It is also likely that dismissal of Mead herself, due perhaps to her gender, lay at their root. Mead’s youth, sexuality and liberal politics, no doubt made her a more insightful scientist than many of her peers. The book she wrote reminds us that humans have constantly found new and varied ways to organise their lives. While we should not pretend that Samoan society in the 1920s was a perfect utopia for all, Mead's account should give those of us trying to change the world renewed confidence that things do not need to be like they are.