Status
Available
Call number
Publication
Recorded Books (2002), Edition: Unabridged, Audio Cassette, 5 pages
Description
The Black Death was the fourteenth century's equivalent of a nuclear war. It wiped out one-third of Europe's population, takingmillion lives. And yet, most of what we know about it is wrong. The details of the Plague etched in the minds of terrified schoolchildren - the hideous black welts, the high fever, and the awful end by respiratory failure - are more or less accurate. But what the Plague really was and how it made history remain shrouded in a haze of myths. Now, Norman Cantor, the premier historian of the Middle Ages, draws together the most recent scientific discoveries and groundbreaking historical research to pierce the mist and tell the story of the Black Death as a gripping, intimate narrative.
User reviews
LibraryThing member john257hopper
I disliked much of this book. It is probably the worst book on Medieval history I have read. The main problem is that the author seems to have little insight into how Medieval people viewed their own society and, especially in the first half of the book, imputes 20th/21st century motives to
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Medieval actors, especially Edward III, whom he describes sweepingly as a "brutal thug", which is particularly grating having just read Ian Mortimer's so much deeper analysis. The constant use of anachronisms grates, such as describing Edward's daughter Joan as a "top drawer white girl" or using the phrase "billionaire aristocrat" to describe 14th century landowners; as does his pseudo-Marxist analysis of the Peasants' Revolt, which the author describes as coming very close to setting up a socialist state and in general makes sound like a Trotskyist-led student uprising. There are also too many digressions. His analysis of the anti-Jewish aspect of the plague is better, as is his bio-medical analysis, though he is a little too ready to give credence to a theory that the plague and all other diseases originate from outer space. Very disappointing and in places crass for anyone with a sensitivity towards English Medieval history. Show Less
LibraryThing member LindsayWalker
So riddled with errors and inaccuracies that even a reader with a cursory knowledge of the period will find it astonishing. The author demonstrates not one whit of an understanding of cultural differences between modern and medieval society. The complete lack of citations for the most outrageous of
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assertions relegates the book to the historical fiction section of the library. Cantor’s reference to Ziegler’s “The Black Death” as “highly readable and out of date” is very telling. Out of date it may be, but readers who want any understanding of the topic would do well to ignore Cantor’s ramblings and stick with credible research. Show Less
LibraryThing member ABVR
The late Norman Cantor was a leading historian of the Middle Ages, and this book--his last, I believe--feels like a valedictory attempt to reach a larger audience than fellow medievalists and their students. Reading it is a bit like listening to a guest lecture by a distinguished, elderly
Cantor touches on the nature of the plague itself, its impact on the English monarchy, the untimely death of scholarly bishop Thomas Bradwardine, and the shift from a feudal economy built on the labor of serfs to a market economy built on wage laborers. He never manages, however, to show how all those threads relate to one another. He is occasionally sloppy about peripheral details (half an hour to reload a crossbow?) and his more sweeping generalizations would probably give medieval historians pause. If you're looking for a comprehensive history of the Black Death or a rigorous exploration of its effects, this isn't it. (Ironically, one of the best features of the book is a bibliographic essay that lists several of both.) If you're looking for an entertaining ramble through some unfamiliar corners of medieval England and France, it's a good bet.
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professor. It's packed with well-told stories, oddball facts, and intriguing generalizations, but it's also meandering and sloppily organized. When it's over, you feel like you know more about the subject than you did before, but you're not necessarily sure that you understand the subject better. Cantor touches on the nature of the plague itself, its impact on the English monarchy, the untimely death of scholarly bishop Thomas Bradwardine, and the shift from a feudal economy built on the labor of serfs to a market economy built on wage laborers. He never manages, however, to show how all those threads relate to one another. He is occasionally sloppy about peripheral details (half an hour to reload a crossbow?) and his more sweeping generalizations would probably give medieval historians pause. If you're looking for a comprehensive history of the Black Death or a rigorous exploration of its effects, this isn't it. (Ironically, one of the best features of the book is a bibliographic essay that lists several of both.) If you're looking for an entertaining ramble through some unfamiliar corners of medieval England and France, it's a good bet.
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LibraryThing member PuddinTame
I enjoyed this book, but I can understand why some people were disappointed. This was not what I was expecting from the title, i.e., an orderly comparison of European society before and after the plague. I happen to enjoy the type of book that this is, and I wasn't reading it for a particular
The book is only loosely organized. The chapters are almost independent from one another. I found them quite intriguing. I love books that toss around ideas, even if they raise questions that cannot really be answered. Cantor brings up a number of possibilities about the medical aspects of the plague - was it really two concurrent plagues? Did it come from outer space? Do animals other than rats and their fleas spread it? Did the death of particular people alter history? The writing is very lively and readable.
It might have been better if I had read another, more standard history of the plague before this, but I intend to make up that lack; I thank other reviewers for their recommendations. I'm no medievalist, so I am somewhat uneasy about some of the complaints about accuracy. I know that some of them are off-base, and that others may be a matter of interpretation, but altogether, I will take this a little more cautiously than I might have. I suspect that another reviewer is correct that Cantor has misinterpreted life expectancy statistics, which is one of my pet peeves.
Another issue is that Cantor editorializes about upper classes, describing King Edward III of England as a thug. He does concede that in his own time, Edward was greatly admired (of course the question is, by whom?) I found it amusing, and acceptable since both sides were presented, and this was a relatively informal book, but the prospective reader will have to decide this personally.
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purpose, so the surprise didn't bother me. On the other hand, if I had really wanted what I expected, I might have been very annoyed. The book is only loosely organized. The chapters are almost independent from one another. I found them quite intriguing. I love books that toss around ideas, even if they raise questions that cannot really be answered. Cantor brings up a number of possibilities about the medical aspects of the plague - was it really two concurrent plagues? Did it come from outer space? Do animals other than rats and their fleas spread it? Did the death of particular people alter history? The writing is very lively and readable.
It might have been better if I had read another, more standard history of the plague before this, but I intend to make up that lack; I thank other reviewers for their recommendations. I'm no medievalist, so I am somewhat uneasy about some of the complaints about accuracy. I know that some of them are off-base, and that others may be a matter of interpretation, but altogether, I will take this a little more cautiously than I might have. I suspect that another reviewer is correct that Cantor has misinterpreted life expectancy statistics, which is one of my pet peeves.
Another issue is that Cantor editorializes about upper classes, describing King Edward III of England as a thug. He does concede that in his own time, Edward was greatly admired (of course the question is, by whom?) I found it amusing, and acceptable since both sides were presented, and this was a relatively informal book, but the prospective reader will have to decide this personally.
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LibraryThing member Dorritt
Like many tragedies, the plague left an altered world in its horrific wake. Cantor’s stated purpose is to provide a description of the Black Death “and the world it made,” with emphasis on identifying some of the “winners/losers” that emerged after the series of plagues that swept through
A fascinating topic, yes? And given Cantor’s rep as a “leading American historian of the Middle Ages,” I picked this up enthusiastically, anticipating a thorough, orderly, scholarly exploration of the topic. However, that’s not quite what happened. Instead of a textbook, what I got felt more like a curmudgeonly old college professor whipping through the entire curriculum of his oft-taught “Europe Before and After the Plague” class without bothering to consult his notes.
For one thing, Cantor’s choice of content seems driven by personal interest/preference rather than logic. For every page that actually addresses information relevant to the topic, Cantor includes pages and pages of tangential information, including long back-stories on people/institutions (Cardinal Bradwardine, the Occam-Marsilio heresy, the antecedents of the French wine industry) that are often interesting but end up having little (or nothing) to do with the topic. Much of the time I had the sense that Cantor’s research/knowledge was guiding his narrative, rather than his narrative synthesizing the research.
Also, organization of the material is (to be generous) eclectic, whipping through time and across themes with little logic, with some anecdotes repeated multiple times (as if the storyteller forgot he’d already shared them) and an ending so abrupt that you can practically hear the bell ringing, signaling the end of class.
Finally, Cantor repeatedly presents dubious/biased material with the supreme self-confidence of a professor who knows that his class full of cowed undergraduates will never muster up the courage to challenge him. I tolerated his rants against certain historical personages (Edward III is described, with no substantiating detail, as an “avaricious and sadistic thug”, and what exactly was the narrative purpose of Richard II's sexual preferences?:); I endured his factually dubious tangent about Lollardism; but the part at the end where he appears to endorse the notion that the plague came from space dust is where I began to lose my patience.
If you’re a history “generalist”, then this may be worth the read. As a general survey of the Medieval period, the text works well; Cantor is an engaging (if erratic) storyteller who knows how to synthesize lots of ideas into a whole. But if your interest is in a thorough, accurate, and unbiased exploration of “The Black Death and the World It Made” (to quote the subtitle), allow me to save you the time and present the Cliff’s Notes version: wives, property lawyers, and yeoman peasants benefited; the Lancastrians kings of England, The Holy Roman Empire, scientific exploration, and the Jews suffered; and art, religion, monarchies and philosophy mostly emerged a draw. Now go pick up something equally entertaining but a little less erratic: might I recommend something by Boorstin, Ambrose, or Tuchman?
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Europe in the 13th-14th century. A fascinating topic, yes? And given Cantor’s rep as a “leading American historian of the Middle Ages,” I picked this up enthusiastically, anticipating a thorough, orderly, scholarly exploration of the topic. However, that’s not quite what happened. Instead of a textbook, what I got felt more like a curmudgeonly old college professor whipping through the entire curriculum of his oft-taught “Europe Before and After the Plague” class without bothering to consult his notes.
For one thing, Cantor’s choice of content seems driven by personal interest/preference rather than logic. For every page that actually addresses information relevant to the topic, Cantor includes pages and pages of tangential information, including long back-stories on people/institutions (Cardinal Bradwardine, the Occam-Marsilio heresy, the antecedents of the French wine industry) that are often interesting but end up having little (or nothing) to do with the topic. Much of the time I had the sense that Cantor’s research/knowledge was guiding his narrative, rather than his narrative synthesizing the research.
Also, organization of the material is (to be generous) eclectic, whipping through time and across themes with little logic, with some anecdotes repeated multiple times (as if the storyteller forgot he’d already shared them) and an ending so abrupt that you can practically hear the bell ringing, signaling the end of class.
Finally, Cantor repeatedly presents dubious/biased material with the supreme self-confidence of a professor who knows that his class full of cowed undergraduates will never muster up the courage to challenge him. I tolerated his rants against certain historical personages (Edward III is described, with no substantiating detail, as an “avaricious and sadistic thug”, and what exactly was the narrative purpose of Richard II's sexual preferences?:); I endured his factually dubious tangent about Lollardism; but the part at the end where he appears to endorse the notion that the plague came from space dust is where I began to lose my patience.
If you’re a history “generalist”, then this may be worth the read. As a general survey of the Medieval period, the text works well; Cantor is an engaging (if erratic) storyteller who knows how to synthesize lots of ideas into a whole. But if your interest is in a thorough, accurate, and unbiased exploration of “The Black Death and the World It Made” (to quote the subtitle), allow me to save you the time and present the Cliff’s Notes version: wives, property lawyers, and yeoman peasants benefited; the Lancastrians kings of England, The Holy Roman Empire, scientific exploration, and the Jews suffered; and art, religion, monarchies and philosophy mostly emerged a draw. Now go pick up something equally entertaining but a little less erratic: might I recommend something by Boorstin, Ambrose, or Tuchman?
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LibraryThing member Gwendydd
I was pretty disgusted with this book. Although Cantor is a well-known and generally well-respected historian, his writing in this book is totally sensationalized. He paints the Middle Ages as horrible and grim. He gets really carried away with his own prose, and makes some claims that are totally
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outlandish and even downright false. The book really doesn't include very much information - he goes back and forth between over-dramatized anecdotes and wild speculation. There is some interesting discussion of the relationship of the Black Death to modern epidemics, but you can find all of the same information, presented much better, in a lot of other books. Show Less
LibraryThing member amanda4242
Complete crap. I made a list of some of the major annoyances:
1. Jumps around time and topics so it's hard to establish what the world was like pre- and post-plague.
2. Cantor never passes up a chance to demonize the Plantagenets, except for Richard II, who he describes as a "sensitive, intelligent
3. He makes claims without providing any evidence. (King John was manic-depressive, Richard II was gay)
4. He treats legends and rumors as facts. (Robin Hood, the story of Edward II and the hot poker)
5. Focuses almost exclusively on England
6. Paints medieval people as stupid and superstitious.
Avoid this one like the, well, you know.
1. Jumps around time and topics so it's hard to establish what the world was like pre- and post-plague.
2. Cantor never passes up a chance to demonize the Plantagenets, except for Richard II, who he describes as a "sensitive, intelligent
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monarch." I know the dynasty had more than its share of utter bastards, but was it really necessary to ridicule their sense of fashion?3. He makes claims without providing any evidence. (King John was manic-depressive, Richard II was gay)
4. He treats legends and rumors as facts. (Robin Hood, the story of Edward II and the hot poker)
5. Focuses almost exclusively on England
6. Paints medieval people as stupid and superstitious.
Avoid this one like the, well, you know.
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LibraryThing member lloannna
Poorly written, seemingly only half thought through, and not that much new info for those already vaguely familiar with the subject matter. The History Channel did a better job on the content of pages 25-70, roughly, with one of their terrible reenactments, in only five minutes.
If you're into
If you're into
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speculation about failed proletarian uprisings in the 14th century, find random quotations from medical extracts riveting, and don't mind going on thirty to forty bizarre tangents before finding out what happened to a person identified at the beginning of a sentence you're not sure ever ended, this is so your book. Show Less
LibraryThing member Medievalgirl
It is not a problem when historians present a viewpoint of historical figures, positive or negative, of their opinions are based on evidence, and can be proven. That is what they do.
This author, however, does not seem to have heard of evidence. He takes up page after page bashing the English, and
This would not be so bad if the author did not Hold his own viewpoint in such high regard, and present in as actual historical Fact, which he does here, especially considering that some of the his assertions are quite simply absurd and laughable.
He claims for instance that Edward III and the English were evil for no other reason then that they invaded France. As if this event in itself were enough proof of the innate badness of the English, and the demoniac malevolence of the Plantagenet Kings.
Apparently, it did not accur to him that almost all Medieval Kings invaded other Kingdoms including French ones, and so by his line of reasoning they should all be evil too. Nope, only the English ones qualify for demonisation. Right. As if no other Medieval European people would even do anything so nasty as take over anyone else's country.
To make things even more ridiculous, the author then presents an ancient Myth about one of the ancestors of the Plantagenet Kings having been a Demon who took the form of a beautiful women and married the Duke of Normandy- and cites this as an explanation for why Edward III was so nasty. Using myth to back up one's argument?
When reading this, I could scarcely believe that the author was a respected professor of Medieval History.
The unabashed vitriolic and hateful nature of the author's viewpoint shocked me to the core, as it seemed so alien to the nature of everything historians are taught about objectivity, not judging the past by modern standards and distinguishing between fact and opinion. It seems as though the author simply lost his grip on logic, reason and common sense and wrote a 250 page tirade against everyone and everything he disliked.
As such, this is one of the only books that I can honestly say ever made me feel ashamed to be associated with the scholarly historical profession.
This author, however, does not seem to have heard of evidence. He takes up page after page bashing the English, and
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demonising Edward III, calling him everything under the sun, and does not cite even a single shred of evidence to back up his claims. They are quite simply his own opinions, and he makes no secret of this.This would not be so bad if the author did not Hold his own viewpoint in such high regard, and present in as actual historical Fact, which he does here, especially considering that some of the his assertions are quite simply absurd and laughable.
He claims for instance that Edward III and the English were evil for no other reason then that they invaded France. As if this event in itself were enough proof of the innate badness of the English, and the demoniac malevolence of the Plantagenet Kings.
Apparently, it did not accur to him that almost all Medieval Kings invaded other Kingdoms including French ones, and so by his line of reasoning they should all be evil too. Nope, only the English ones qualify for demonisation. Right. As if no other Medieval European people would even do anything so nasty as take over anyone else's country.
To make things even more ridiculous, the author then presents an ancient Myth about one of the ancestors of the Plantagenet Kings having been a Demon who took the form of a beautiful women and married the Duke of Normandy- and cites this as an explanation for why Edward III was so nasty. Using myth to back up one's argument?
When reading this, I could scarcely believe that the author was a respected professor of Medieval History.
The unabashed vitriolic and hateful nature of the author's viewpoint shocked me to the core, as it seemed so alien to the nature of everything historians are taught about objectivity, not judging the past by modern standards and distinguishing between fact and opinion. It seems as though the author simply lost his grip on logic, reason and common sense and wrote a 250 page tirade against everyone and everything he disliked.
As such, this is one of the only books that I can honestly say ever made me feel ashamed to be associated with the scholarly historical profession.
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LibraryThing member Meggo
Cantor in this book traces the impact of the bubonic plague of the 1300s. Some of the opinions voiced in the book are just plain far-fetched (plague from outer space), and others are just obvious. Not one of the better plague books that I have read, the time reading this is better spent sleeping.
LibraryThing member alchymyst
I could not get over the impression that the author was really disappointed and angry at medieval people for being, well, so medieval. How could they not understand that scientific method is king and the only way to combat the plague? How dared they rely on prayers and quarantine? Why did they
In addition, I found the book to be rather scattered. Sometimes the author would switch to a new topic in the next paragraph without any reason for doing so, or throw in some idea only to abandon it two sentences later. Random facts about lords and royalty pepper the text without any particular rhyme or reason. He also obviously has some kind of issue with homosexuality.
The author also makes very critical and often derogatory assertions about certain issues without backing any of them with evidence or even mentioning that there might be another view. At one point, he describes the notion of Buddhist enlightenment/nirvana as a 'negative mysticism', a 'depersonalization', which shows that he knows very little on this particular topic.
Overall, a very unstructured, very angry book. To be honest, at times I even got the impression that it wasn't actually a book about the plague, but a way to vent anger at medieval society, the ruling class, antisemitism, and who knows what else.
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'waste' their knowledge of chemistry on alchemy (what he means by that rather silly statement anyway is unclear to me)? It's just a very odd attitude for a historian to take, I think. Obviously they didn't know about germs, but he makes it seem like the people in the 14th century are somehow to blame for not being scientifically enlightened.In addition, I found the book to be rather scattered. Sometimes the author would switch to a new topic in the next paragraph without any reason for doing so, or throw in some idea only to abandon it two sentences later. Random facts about lords and royalty pepper the text without any particular rhyme or reason. He also obviously has some kind of issue with homosexuality.
The author also makes very critical and often derogatory assertions about certain issues without backing any of them with evidence or even mentioning that there might be another view. At one point, he describes the notion of Buddhist enlightenment/nirvana as a 'negative mysticism', a 'depersonalization', which shows that he knows very little on this particular topic.
Overall, a very unstructured, very angry book. To be honest, at times I even got the impression that it wasn't actually a book about the plague, but a way to vent anger at medieval society, the ruling class, antisemitism, and who knows what else.
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LibraryThing member nkrivera
Of all of Norman Cantor's books about the Middle Ages, this is by far the worst! Cantor was once a decent (though never great) medieval historian, but that time has long past. This book is not only poorly written/edited, but it is also wildly inaccurate. Its clear that the intended audience of this
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book is the general public and it is not for a specialist, but that does not make it acceptable to sensationalize/misrepresent facts in the guise of making the subject more interesting or more accessible. The problems with the content are too numerous to list individually, but I have listed a couple of the most glaring ones. First, he makes absurd and unsubstantiated claims (see section on how cosmic dust may have caused the plague) and he cites unverified legends as facts to support his scattered and incoherent argument (see the passages about the ring around the rosy song). His sloppy and casual presentation also leads him to make mistakes in terminology, like referring to women's garments as corsets even though corsets weren't worn until nearly 200 years later. Second, he is a very judgmental historian imposing his 20th century belief system on a 14th century society. Please don't misunderstand. As a medieval historian myself, I am completely aware that all interpretations of history are biased by the author's own views, but that does not mean you should dismiss your historical subject as backward, stupid, or laughable. In a wasted effort to be light-hearted (which is especially strange considering he is writing a treatise about pestilence and disease that ravaged a continent), he comes off as callous and insensitive, particularly in his discussion of Jews where he gets perilously close to blaming them for their own persecution. Even if you could put aside the numerous factual errors, the book is also almost impossible to read. It is repetitive, disjointed, and it appears never to have been edited. Cantor spends about a third of the book discussing the topic of this treatise (mostly inaccurately as I have already discussed) and then spends the remainder of the book going off on unrelated and poorly connected tangents rife with run-on sentences and incorrectly used vocabulary. He offers no new insights into this field and will lead newcomers to medieval history astray. Please do not waste your time reading this book. You will only be misinformed and aggravated. If I could give the book no stars, I would. Quite possibly the worst book of medieval history that I have ever been forced to read. Show Less
LibraryThing member auldtwa1
This feels like a book of Cantor's dotage which his editors were afraid to actually edit, perhaps due to his justified reputation. Ramblings reminiscent of my grandmother as she fell deeper into senility. I've liked other Cantor and this was a horrendous disappointment .
LibraryThing member lipi
Chatty worthlesness.
A very few interesting bits, but buried among mostly useless, obvious, or unverifiable randomness. The "Aftermath" chapter seemed particularly bad, but perhaps that's because I was rushing through it just to finish the book.
Its main weakness is Norman's ridiculous literary
A very few interesting bits, but buried among mostly useless, obvious, or unverifiable randomness. The "Aftermath" chapter seemed particularly bad, but perhaps that's because I was rushing through it just to finish the book.
Its main weakness is Norman's ridiculous literary
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style. His use of stylistic figures makes the thing even less scholarly than it already was (and not easier to read). Grr. Show Less
LibraryThing member la2bkk
Given its title, the very nature of this subject provides much ground for interesting work. But despite the author's obviously in depth research, there's little good I can say about this book.
The author attempts to tell the tale of the Plague through personal experiences of people from all walks of
The author attempts to tell the tale of the Plague through personal experiences of people from all walks of
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life. While the idea is good, the overly detailed and plodding style make for a difficult and sometimes dull read. Another aspect of the work includes speculation as to the true cause(s) of the plague. Aside from the standard conclusion of parasites transmitted via black rats, an interesting argument is made for anthrax being a contributing factor. However, the author loses credibility when giving some credence to the theory that the bacteria were possibly delivered via cosmic dust from comets. Add to this many digressions which have little relevance to the plague itself and you have a work better avoided. Show Less
LibraryThing member Vorobyey
About a quarter of this book relates to society after the Black Death. The rest is tangential ramblings as other reviewers have described. Much could go into footnotes but then there would not be enough substance to make a book. I am glad another reviewer comments that there are inaccuracies
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because that was what I felt, although lacking enough knowledge to be sure. Hated the way he used Americanisms: "ranching" for farming and a double surname for a married woman are examples. Show Less
LibraryThing member setnahkt
I have mixed feelings about this one, another from the Black Death wish list. Author Norman Cantor has a reputation as an eminent medieval historian, but this book reads like he went through a file cabinet full of unfinished projects and patched them into a book. Cantor’s goal is not producing
*Was the Black Death actually caused by [i]Yersina pestis[/i], or by some other agent, or by a combination of things? Cantor comes out for half plague and half anthrax; he seems inspired by the work of Graham Twigg (who, unfortunately, I haven’t read yet) which contends that the plague spread too rapidly to be caused by transmission from fleas to people. However, he seems strangely unaware of pulmonary anthrax and contends that anthrax contribution to the plague was the gastrointestinal variety. Exactly how a disease contracted only be eating tainted meat and not transmissible from one human to another barring cannibalism is supposed to spread faster than bubonic plague is unclear, but maybe Twigg explains this.
*Did the plague death of Princess Joan in Bordeaux in 1348, on her way to marry Pedro of Castile, mark the beginning of the end for the Plantagenet Dynasty (supposedly because England was denied a European ally for the Hundred Years War against France)? Well, maybe, but dynastic marriages didn’t seem to have that much effect on politics and national considerations at other times in European history.
*Did the plague end serfdom in England by giving the surviving peasants much more economic power, since with the ensuing labor shortage they could now sell themselves to the highest bidder rather than having to work for their lord? This seems like a fairly safe bet; every plague historian I’ve read so far agrees.
*Did the plague put a stop to an early development of science in Europe by killing Thomas Bradwardine and William of Occam? I don’t know enough about Bradwardine to judge; Cantor contends he had written various works advocating the scientific method. Maybe; might make an interesting alternate history.
*Did the havoc created by the plague mark the ascendancy of litigation over chivalry and “gentlemen’s agreements” in England, because inheritances were so fouled up? Again, maybe, but I don’t know enough about English legal history to be able to tell.
*Did the plague create yet another Diaspora, as Jews fled to the friendly Kingdom of Poland to avoid persecution as plague spreaders? Seems like a yes; it’s always been popular to blame things on the Jews but the plague did provide a special case.
*In a depressing bit of pseudoscience, Cantor falls for the argument of Hoyle and Wickramasinghe that the plague came from outer space. (Even though this seems inconsistent with his earlier argument about anthrax; perhaps that comes from space, too). His main evidence here is that Hoyle and Wickramasinghe have “impeccable scientific credentials”. Right.
*Finally, did human ancestry in the East African Rift Valley somehow make us more vulnerable to disease? I have to admit I really can’t figure out what Cantor’s point is in this chapter.
Some interesting ideas, certainly worth further study, but marred by Cantor’s willingness to venture into areas outside his specialty.
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yet another history of the Black Death but speculating on various consequences; some are quite interesting, but none are really worked out, as if Cantor was sitting around in the faculty lounge during sherry hour and throwing out various ideas to a circle of admiring grad students. To whit:*Was the Black Death actually caused by [i]Yersina pestis[/i], or by some other agent, or by a combination of things? Cantor comes out for half plague and half anthrax; he seems inspired by the work of Graham Twigg (who, unfortunately, I haven’t read yet) which contends that the plague spread too rapidly to be caused by transmission from fleas to people. However, he seems strangely unaware of pulmonary anthrax and contends that anthrax contribution to the plague was the gastrointestinal variety. Exactly how a disease contracted only be eating tainted meat and not transmissible from one human to another barring cannibalism is supposed to spread faster than bubonic plague is unclear, but maybe Twigg explains this.
*Did the plague death of Princess Joan in Bordeaux in 1348, on her way to marry Pedro of Castile, mark the beginning of the end for the Plantagenet Dynasty (supposedly because England was denied a European ally for the Hundred Years War against France)? Well, maybe, but dynastic marriages didn’t seem to have that much effect on politics and national considerations at other times in European history.
*Did the plague end serfdom in England by giving the surviving peasants much more economic power, since with the ensuing labor shortage they could now sell themselves to the highest bidder rather than having to work for their lord? This seems like a fairly safe bet; every plague historian I’ve read so far agrees.
*Did the plague put a stop to an early development of science in Europe by killing Thomas Bradwardine and William of Occam? I don’t know enough about Bradwardine to judge; Cantor contends he had written various works advocating the scientific method. Maybe; might make an interesting alternate history.
*Did the havoc created by the plague mark the ascendancy of litigation over chivalry and “gentlemen’s agreements” in England, because inheritances were so fouled up? Again, maybe, but I don’t know enough about English legal history to be able to tell.
*Did the plague create yet another Diaspora, as Jews fled to the friendly Kingdom of Poland to avoid persecution as plague spreaders? Seems like a yes; it’s always been popular to blame things on the Jews but the plague did provide a special case.
*In a depressing bit of pseudoscience, Cantor falls for the argument of Hoyle and Wickramasinghe that the plague came from outer space. (Even though this seems inconsistent with his earlier argument about anthrax; perhaps that comes from space, too). His main evidence here is that Hoyle and Wickramasinghe have “impeccable scientific credentials”. Right.
*Finally, did human ancestry in the East African Rift Valley somehow make us more vulnerable to disease? I have to admit I really can’t figure out what Cantor’s point is in this chapter.
Some interesting ideas, certainly worth further study, but marred by Cantor’s willingness to venture into areas outside his specialty.
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LibraryThing member archiveninja
Rife with historical inaccuracies.
LibraryThing member marek2009
An interesting book about the sociological & historical consequences of the plague. Interesting points (it was probably anthrax as well as bubonic plague) are overshadowed by an irritating style, repititions & vagueness leading to more questions (did the plague come from Africa? Why did England
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suffer more than elsewhere?). Show Less
LibraryThing member lek103
Weirdly patchy and poorly written opinion and conjecture masquerading as history. I was stunned to read the author's credentials. Some interesting ideas, but nothing fleshed out enough to take very seriously.
LibraryThing member jcelrod
Thoroughly enjoying account of the Black Death itself and the impact it had on several specific individuals.
LibraryThing member ShaneTierney
Setnahkt's review below has some measured points, and I thought I'd give it a thumbs up and be done, but I have to leave a rage review. The problem with Setnahkt's review is it seems to respect the book as being worthy of existence.
This book is rambling, repetitive muck. By chapter 2 I had a
It should have been thrown across the room after a few pages but, like chewing on a toothache, I could not stop.
Some examples for LibraryThing posterity:
Edward II's anal-rape murder "partly" reflected the Church's attitude toward homosexuality, but also reflected contemporary attitudes toward global weather patterns.
Edward III ravaged 25% of 1/3 of France.
Plantagenet Joan is constantly referred to as "little princess", so by the 3rd or 4th time I'm searching for endnotes to see if she was actually little, but no, it just seems pointlessly derogatory.
Cantor spends almost an entire page of his measly 200 describing Joan's wardrobe (she had lots of buttons), seemingly for the sole purpose of punchlining the English monarchy's lack of taste "then or now".
Cantor refers to Joan as a "top-drawer white girl". That is top-shelf history right there. Halfway through, I stopped cataloging hate notes and just doggy-paddled the rest of the way through the slop.
Absolutely, completely, unworthy of an NYU professor and Princeton Fellow, and perversely, so perversely, I am looking forward to reading Cantor's "Civilization", though I don't know if I'm searching for his redemption or more stench from the putrefaction of Academia.
This book is a plague about a plague and even reviews about it are a waste of time.
This book is rambling, repetitive muck. By chapter 2 I had a
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mental sidebar of anger-notes. I was so disgusted that I came to view Cantor's ridiculous overuse of the work "biomedical" as a major character flaw.It should have been thrown across the room after a few pages but, like chewing on a toothache, I could not stop.
Some examples for LibraryThing posterity:
Edward II's anal-rape murder "partly" reflected the Church's attitude toward homosexuality, but also reflected contemporary attitudes toward global weather patterns.
Edward III ravaged 25% of 1/3 of France.
Plantagenet Joan is constantly referred to as "little princess", so by the 3rd or 4th time I'm searching for endnotes to see if she was actually little, but no, it just seems pointlessly derogatory.
Cantor spends almost an entire page of his measly 200 describing Joan's wardrobe (she had lots of buttons), seemingly for the sole purpose of punchlining the English monarchy's lack of taste "then or now".
Cantor refers to Joan as a "top-drawer white girl". That is top-shelf history right there. Halfway through, I stopped cataloging hate notes and just doggy-paddled the rest of the way through the slop.
Absolutely, completely, unworthy of an NYU professor and Princeton Fellow, and perversely, so perversely, I am looking forward to reading Cantor's "Civilization", though I don't know if I'm searching for his redemption or more stench from the putrefaction of Academia.
This book is a plague about a plague and even reviews about it are a waste of time.
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LibraryThing member AngelaB86
This one was pretty interesting, but sometimes the history of certain people/events would go on for so long I would forget what we were supposed to be talking about.
LibraryThing member hailelib
In the Wake of the Plague is a short, readable, and fairly rambling book about the Black Death, what it was, how it spread, and how it changed society, particularly in England. Cantor's stories about the people who died (and the ones who didn't) were interesting and I enjoyed reading them. The last
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section of his book where he discussed some of more debatable theories of the plague's cause and so on was less successful for me. His reading list at the end is really great, however. Show Less
LibraryThing member Africansky1
This book is a readable account of the European world in the wake of 1348 - 1350 pandemic, the plague , written. by a widely read, well respected American professor of medieval history . It is written to excite and enthuse the reader and is not aimed at the professional historian but rather at the
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amateur historian . It is discursive, but fairly short and open minded In probing the sources and origins of the dissease. Llinks and parallels to our own world are drawn . Cantor tries to tell stories of individual people ... Princesses and prelates , landlords and labourers who fell victim to sudden fever, buboes and rapid death. Mass graves were common as the four horsemen of the apocalypse devastated the landscape. Survivors were lucky as their economic status changed overnight . But longer term economic impact perhaps took a further generation to be felt. It was the sheer scale of the epidemic when Europe's population fell on average by one third that was so devastating for economies and societies . The impact of a pandemic reached across cultures, religion,law , economic structures , war and peace. There are no footnotes but a good critical bibliography and an index, This is meta history with a broad sweep written by a professor who has to keep the attention of his first year history class, It is history at a gallop. You throw out ideas and hope that some will germinate . This book made the New York Times best seller list which must have been gratifying for a college professor . Allow this book to entice you into that medical world and then opt for Braudel or Ziegler for your next read. Show Less
Subjects
Language
Original publication date
2001
Physical description
5 p.; 7.2 inches
ISBN
0788796089 / 9780788796081
Local notes
Length: 6 hrs and 20 mins