'The Beauty and the Sorrow: An Intimate History of the First World War:' A book review

From New Jersey.com: 'The Beauty and the Sorrow: An Intimate History of the First World War:' A book review
The Beauty and the Sorrow: An Intimate History of the First World War
Peter Englund
Alfred A. Knopf, 512 pp., $35

Reviewed by Jonathan E. Lazarus

The Great War … the War to End All Wars. How hollow the characterizations rang for both the survivors and the millions of dead, diminished or disfigured.

What began in Sarajevo on June 28, 1914, with the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand, and ended with an armistice on Nov. 11, 1918 — the famous 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month — served as a prelude for the larger conflagration 21 years later. But to those who lived through it, World War I was beyond a baptism of fire. It was the passing of the old order; the coarsening of manners and restraint; the end of battlefield chivalry in the age of the tank and machine gun; a loss of respect for national and military leaders, and a disillusionment with the governing theologies of the day.

In the hands of Swedish historian and war correspondent Peter Englund, the microworlds of 20 of those profoundly affected by the conflict emerge in sharp focus through the clever, compelling format of profiling their stories in the present tense, interlayering them by date and allowing the unfolding chronology to show the progression of war weariness from year to year.

Englund has chosen his dramatis personae wisely, if not in politically correct fashion. They include men and women from all the combatant nations, serving in every far-flung theater. Most survive; one as an amputee, several as emaciated POWs. Only a very few find the fighting exhilarating. Just two Americans are represented, the famous neurosurgeon Harvey Cushing and a New Yorker who volunteers for the Italian army. A British aid worker and a German seaman stand out as the only overtly racist entries. Rafael de Nogales, a Venezuelan cavalryman serving in the Ottoman army, seems the most quixotic. And Andrei Lobanov-Rostovsky, a Russian officer, faces down mutineers.

But for all of them, the sensations are similar. Their war worlds expand and contract at the same time. And all admit being demeaned by their powerlessness to influence the events and circumstances thrust on them. Englund’s substantial contribution to the World War I canon is keeping the generals and politicians substantially sidelined in “The Beauty and the Sorrow” and letting those literally in the trenches tell their stories.