95 books like The Mediterranean and the Mediterranean World in the Age of Philip II, Vol. 1

I first read this book while living in Venice in the winter of 1985. Morris writes of a sea voyage along the ancient trade route and to the maritime colonies of her beloved lagoon city and, in the process, reveals much about the aggression and rapacity required by its merchant rulers to build one of humanity’s most beautiful and audacious creations.

Her book, along with Mumford’s, was formative for my understanding of the dependence of imperial cities upon an expansive hinterland and the role of warfare in its acquisition. In Venice’s case, its ship-building Arsenale made possible the splendid palaces that line the Grand Canal and the immense pile of loot that is the Basilica San Marco.

We are reminded on almost a daily basis of the plight of refugees in fragile boats that this sea can be cruel as well as kind. The present diaspora has its forerunners – in this book the great population exchange of 1923 that saw the displacement of two million people across the Mediterranean: Greeks living in the Ottoman Empire, Turks living in Greece. Bruce Clarke both explains the chain of events in the aftermath of the First World War and records the personal stories of those who were uprooted from the places they called home. They have a familiar resonance, the repeating patterns of memory and loss: ‘I remember the day they went away,’ recorded a Greek woman of her Muslim neighbours. ‘Some kissed the earth, some took bowls of soil with them. They were decent types; their menfolk used to attend our funerals, and we would exchange presents of… show more.

When life gets a little too much I’d recommend a visit to Corfu in the 1930s with Lawrence Durrell. It’s a diary, semi-fictionalised, of a year living on the island, both a history and a personal evocation of one corner of the Mediterranean world – Corfu’s people, landscape, and history, woven through Durrell’s island idyll beside the most enchanting sea. Durrell hunts fish at night by lamplight, discusses philosophy in taverns, records the timeless cycles of island life – olive harvesting, grape gathering, village festivals, puppet shows, folklore, and superstitions –and sits by candlelight watching the moon rise over the sea, the night air ‘cool as a breath from the heart of a melon’. It’s bitter sweet.

Logue’s modernist reworking of the Iliad – the Trojan war - mother of all Mediterranean contests, is quite unlike anything you’ll ever read. Logue doesn’t translate, he remakes. It’s as cinematic as a film script, cast in a poetic language as brilliant as anything in modern times, full of jump cuts, staccato effects, and startling contemporary references. The violence of the fighting has a slamming immediacy (‘Dust like red mist/Pain like chalk on slate’), the Mediterranean – ‘the sea that is always counting’ - glimmers and sighs, the Gods behave like spoiled children, helicopters go whumping over the dunes.

I love this book because, as someone from a working-class background, this book really spoke to me as young person – I was born two years after it was published in 1965. It is profoundly wrong and romanticizes its subject, but it remains a classic, because Thompson was a brilliant writer and because henceforth no one could ignore those previously excluded from the historical narrative.

I love this book because it’s a story about ordinary people. But it’s a true story.

It reads like a fairytale: a peasant, Arnaud du Tilh, is accused of impersonating another man who had abandoned his wife several years before. Arnaud seems to have outwitted the judges until the errant husband returns condemning the impostor to death.

I like this story because it helps to identify with men and women in the past, who in many respects, are just like us. It’s also a piece of great history reconstructed from original trial records. Davis is a great writer.

I love this book because on the one hand it tells an incredible story of adventurous derring-do – how a few hundred men conquered a vast empire – and other hand is a testimony to the brutality and savagery that accompanied European colonization.

Diaz is crucial to understanding our present condition. I admire it because it helps us to understand why Europe emerged as the most important region in world history and reminds us of the terrible consequences that conquest had for indigenous people.

If you haven’t read Montaigne’s Essays start now. I suggest reading one a day – they’re quite short.

I love this book because Montaigne is a genius for all time. Montaigne exploration of what it means to be human remains relevant today. It connects our world with past and shows that, although technology has changed and we can become a lot richer, humans haven’t changed so much.

Montaigne’s Essays are not a relic, they are the mirror on our present condition.

If you could only have one book featuring the world from above this would be it.

It’s oversize and gorgeous. Yann is the photographer who pioneered this kind of socially conscious photography. If you only looked at the pictures it would be satisfying enough, but Yann is an environmentalist, and the chapters highlight the beauty and fragility and danger of the planet we all share.

The photos are amazing! 

This recently published collection brings together writings by the abolitionist organizer and scholar Ruth Wilson Gilmore, who has worked against the prison industrial complex with organizations and communities for decades. On its surface, it is not a book about immigration, and yet Gilmore offers crucial insights for understanding the shifting forces in the state and capitalism that have decimated communities both within and beyond the US. Those forces have abandoned working-class communities (largely of color; see Detroit), uprooted migrants, and criminalized both, targeting them for removal—to prisons, detention centers, and deportations to other countries. Her work also gives us concrete examples of the solidarity organizing that connects different groups, whose interests might not seem to align and whose locations might be spread across distances. If the previous books clarify the roots of the problems, Gilmore not only digs even deeper, but she also shows us examples of the work needed… show more.