The war in Éric Vuillard’s The War of the Poor (2019, tr: Mark Polizzotti , 2021) is not a single point in time but an ongoing campaign fought throughout history. Although it focuses on Thomas Müntzer, a 16th century German preacher and reformer, its narrative drops in on a handful of social campaigners from times past to connect a wider struggle.
Müntzer disagreed with the doctrines of the day and led a doomed peasants’ revolt in 1525 which eventually resulted, as these things often do, in his execution. And it’s ultimately martyrdom that this book seems to be about, suggesting that dying for a cause is less desirable than achieving the aims of the cause.
I’m ambivalent in whether I liked this book, it’s a short potted history of a relatively obscure historical pocket, more bland essay than soaring fiction, That’s not to say it’s doesn’t have its moments: at times the narration turns sarcastic, achieving a few smiles in an otherwise dry prose. And - small mercies! - it doesn’t bog itself down in the minutiae of theological debate.
What Vuillard’s chosen window has to say about today seems obvious, if not clearly stated. He only makes one contemporary reference, I think, to say “merch is God”. In a time of rising inequality (“The powerful never give up anything, not bread and not freedom.”) its parallels seem clear. The prevailing system should be fought against and this time won.
Early in the book the creation of the Gutenberg Bible serves as a model for widening its teachings (“they had made one hundred and eighty copies, where in that time a single monk would have made only one.”). In this age of the Internet, the war of the poor has global reach. But can it be successful against global power?
Müntzer disagreed with the doctrines of the day and led a doomed peasants’ revolt in 1525 which eventually resulted, as these things often do, in his execution. And it’s ultimately martyrdom that this book seems to be about, suggesting that dying for a cause is less desirable than achieving the aims of the cause.
I’m ambivalent in whether I liked this book, it’s a short potted history of a relatively obscure historical pocket, more bland essay than soaring fiction, That’s not to say it’s doesn’t have its moments: at times the narration turns sarcastic, achieving a few smiles in an otherwise dry prose. And - small mercies! - it doesn’t bog itself down in the minutiae of theological debate.
What Vuillard’s chosen window has to say about today seems obvious, if not clearly stated. He only makes one contemporary reference, I think, to say “merch is God”. In a time of rising inequality (“The powerful never give up anything, not bread and not freedom.”) its parallels seem clear. The prevailing system should be fought against and this time won.
Early in the book the creation of the Gutenberg Bible serves as a model for widening its teachings (“they had made one hundred and eighty copies, where in that time a single monk would have made only one.”). In this age of the Internet, the war of the poor has global reach. But can it be successful against global power?