Rating: 
Summary: What A Sad Use of Writing Talent
Review: One would think a person with Mr. Cahill's education and vocabulary would have found suitable euphemisms for 'c***sucker' and the 'F' word. Masking this garbage under the guise of intellectual freedom and reality is truely sad. Including shards of porn to reflect the art of Greece is another example of Mr. Cahill's taste and sensibilities and more reason to avoid this book if you don't find such things enlightening. Go with Gustav Schwab's "Gods and Heroes of Ancient Greece" or Michael Grant's "The Rise of the Greeks" or Allen Mandelbaum's translation of Ovid and pass on Cahill.
Rating:
Summary: What happened to Cahill?
Review: The author's excessive vulgar language and needless Bush bashing make me want to close the door on these Hinges of History.
Rating:
Summary: Ancient Greece for Dummies
Review: The brief overview of what Cahill deems important about the Greeks, the pronouncing gazetteer, a page on the alphabet, a miniscule bibliography (no doubt the source of this opinionated arrogant book) were all fine I suppose for people unfamiliar with the existence of Ancient Greece. But the last chapter comparing John Kennedy to Pericles (wouldn't Ted Sorensen have been a better choice?) and attacking President Bush in his facile comparison of the decline of Greece to the current administration, show Thomas Cahill's breezy tome for what it is: Ancient Greece for Dummies.Partisan ones.
Rating: 
Summary: Did the Greeks really invent civilization?
Review: There are at least four million plants and animals on earth, which means there are four million ways of staying alive. Yet, Cahill is devoting a series of books to the dubious proposition that only half-a-dozen or so really matter. The book expresses a basically good idea -- how did our modern world come to be? His hypothesis contends the Greeks invented it, he rounds up the usual collection of facts to prove his assumption. It's impressive, and it can't be denied the Greeks came up with some of the world's finest arguments to support democracy. But, they also came up with fine arguments against democracy; Plato's arguments for "rule by the best" hobbled the world for at least 2,500 years. Plato tried to provide answers; for example, in ranking government from the finest to the worst, he ranked aristocracy as the best. Next came military rule, then a business oligarchy, then the rule by inexperts which he called democracy; and, worst of all, tyranny. It's hardly surprising church and secular leaders warmly endorsed Plato's views for the past 2,500 years. The book is an interesting compilation of some Greek ideas. He writes, "fate was central to Greeks and Romans, hope is central to Jews and Christians." Yet, democracy is an exuberant expression of hope. Unfortunately, Cahill fails to reconcile a government based on hope with the idea the Greeks believed in fate. As in his narrow argument about the Irish saving civilization, he ignores the full panopoly of Greek ideas and accomplishments and the impact of non-Greek ideas. Direct democracy failed in Greece. Modern representative democracy evolved in an unbroken but greatly tortured path from the equally ancient "althing" of Scandinavia. In the late eighteenth century, the debate in England and America about the nature of democracy cited Greece as a diffuse distant dim ideal to justify preserving and/or changing the status quo. On a practical basis in America, the Iroquois confederacy may have had more impact than anything from Greece. You'll never know from this book. Life adapts itself to different environments, as Charles Darwin discovered when he saw finches. Likewise, democracy adapts itself to different environments, which is why England and the United States are equally democratic in profoundly different ways. You'll never know from this book. Greek culture was inherited from Asia Minor, Crete, Phoenicia, and Egypt -- just as American culture is a world-wide amalgam. The tragedy of ancient Greece, still a destructive feature of the Balkans, is the inability to unite in any common cause except a passion to destroy each other. You'll never learn it from this book. The ancient Greek genius was to question everything -- not to offer answers. Read "Antigone" and tell me the correct answer. It's a pity Cahill didn't focus on this issue, and leave the thinking and conclusions to the reader. Greek failures may well be of far more use to us today than their limited and brief successes. Granted, near the end of the book in discussing the decline and fall of Greece, he outlines a disturbing parallel in modern politics, "Though the gods were more and more loudly invoked, the prayers rang hollow, the appeal to conscience turned mute, and any reference to social justice tended to be met with a knowing smirk." The Greeks turned cynical as their society declined, just as many Americans are now cynical about their own "Smirker-in-Chief." The Greeks had no answer, Cahill offers none. If the Greeks really mattered, we could learn from them. If not, this book offers as much insight as comparing the first-class and steerage-class menus on the S.S. Titanic. Our civilization is a lot more complicated than "one people solves all." You'll never learn it from this book.
Rating: 
Summary: UNHINGED
Review: There has recently arisen a small cottage-industry of writers pronouncing the death of classics as an academic discipline. While the jury is still out on this question, there are few more powerful indictments of academia's failure to reach an audience than Thomas Cahill's fourth volume in his Hinges of History series: Sailing the Wine-Dark Sea (Anchor 2003). That an apparently intelligent and well-read man could be so ignorant of classical scholarship of the last century is simply appalling.
Cahill starts, as he must, with the Iliad and the Odyssey, since Homer stands as the literary foundation stone both of Greek poetry and Western literature generally. Now these poems are extremely dense, having been composed over centuries as the culmination of Greek oral tradition. They have also been intensively studied, and even a basic bibliography of Homeric studies can run to hundreds of entries in English, French and German.
Homer in this respect can be analogized to modern chess openings, which have also been exhaustively analyzed. Different approaches to interpreting the poems can be likened to the various openings, such as the Ruy Lopez, the Sicilian and the Queen's Gambit Declined. One can, for instance, read Hector and not Achilles to be the hero of the Iliad, but this must meet a number of difficulties, rather like the Sicilian defense (Dragon variation) can be expected to meet the Yugoslav attack. How will the interpreter (or the chess player) respond to these challenges?
Cahill for his part seems blissfully ignorant of any problems at all. He adopts the approach of reading Hector as the hero. (SWDS, p. 34.) To continue the chess analogy, one can call this a playable position; the last time I recall it being advanced intelligently was by James Redfield (1975). However, there are several well-known problems, including: 1.) The language of Achilles; 2.) The genealogy of Achilles; and 3.) The established Greek tradition, which unequivocally made Achilles the hero of the Iliad.
As to the first of these problems, I do not mean to write a book on the subject; this has already been done by scholars Cahill seems not to have heard of: Adam Parry (1956) and Richard Martin (1989). Briefly, persuasive linguistic studies have shown that Achilles speaks in a higher register than the other heroes - what Martin termed the "expansion aesthetic."
What does it say of Hector, if he is the hero of the Iliad, that he does not sound as heroic? (One can read Hamlet to say that Polonius is the hero of the piece, done in by a homicidal maniac, but then Hamlet is just so much more eloquent.) This is not a problem for Cahill. Of course it is not a problem; he apparently has not read the poem in Greek and has not read the scholars who have.
Perhaps the most difficult problem with elevating Hector at the expense of Achilles, whom Cahill dismisses as "a petulant boy who leaves the playground with his toys" (SWDS, p. 66), is that it makes the choice of Achilles (too simply: between glory with a short life and obscurity with a long one) virtually meaningless. All one is left with then is the raw carnage of the poem, with few redeeming features, which in fact is precisely where Cahill ends up: at the precedent to the "Western war machine" (SWDS, p. 45). This is a gross disservice to Homer.
In similar fashion, Cahill misses the importance of nostos (return) in the Odyssey, can find neither "complexity of metaphor nor subtlety of concept" (SWDS, p. 122) in Aeschylus, launches a discussion of Sophocles' Oedipus Rex without considering kinds of knowledge, and accepts Euripides' Medea as though it were a historic account without artifice. He also manages to forget the Sophists (and the physis/nomos debate) in his treatment of Plato and Socrates, and then, inexplicably, places Sophism at a later period (SWDS, p. 251).
For a kind of grand finale, Cahill dismisses the whole of Roman culture: its language, drama and philosophy (SWDS, p. 200), and its religion (SWDS, p. 252 ["the Romans may have had the most boring religion of all"].) In this breathtaking display of sheer stupidity, Cahill has raised the art of opinionated rant to heights undreamed of by talk radio.
I cannot end this review without mentioning the factual problems in Cahill's book; they litter the landscape like empty Coke bottles in the Plaka. On virtually every page, one can find dubious assertions, typographical errors and outright mistakes. For instance, the division of the Iliad and the Odyssey into 24 books was probably "a product of post-Homeric activity" (Kirk [1985]), not done by "Homer" (SWDS, p. 62). Second, Calypso (Od. 5:57) and not Circe (Od. 10:210-211) lived in a cave (SWDS, p. 71). Third, Nausicaa went out for washing clothes (Od. 6:90-95), not a swim (SWDS, p. 74). Fourth, there was only sometimes a connection between the satyr play and the dramatic trilogy (SWDS, p. 142). Fifth, the term for the beloved was eromenos, not eremenos (SWDS, p. 178). Sixth, Socrates' divine calling probably was not from childhood (SWDS, p. 181). Seventh, The battle of Thermopylae took place in 480 BCE, not in 490 BCE (SWDS, p. 189). Eighth, the terms person, substance and nature are Latin, not Greek (SWDS, p. 257).
I have been a little hard on Cahill, primarily because he is a knucklehead, but I gave him two stars for my review. Why? He loves Sappho, and that shows very good taste. However, I could never recommend this book to anyone seeking even a rudimentary knowledge of Greek culture. Cahill is too much like the unofficial guide one sometimes finds in Athens: he shows you the ruins of an ancient falafel stand and tells you it is the Parthenon. He is not a bad writer; just badly misinformed.
Rating:
Summary: Why this book might matter
Review: This book serves, as one must suppose Cahill intended it to do, as an intriguing introduction to the culture of the Ancient Greeks and their continuing influence upon Western society. Cahill's choice of wording tends to jar at times: "yip-yapping" and "woo-woo wave" for example. He rather goes over the top in trying to make this book as "cool" as possible. And his quotations from Yeats and others throughout the book presume a level of cultivation with which this cutesy verbiage is at odds. Still, one could do much worse. He manages to convey, at times, forcefully, some of the most significant and powerful currents of Greek art, thought and culture. But, in the end, the best way to learn about the Greeks is from the Greeks: Thucydides, Plato Euripides etc. If this book piques your interest at all, I would recommend picking up any one of the fine translations of these authors' works. If not, well, I suppose it's all Greek to you.
Rating:
Summary: Disappointing
Review: This is a disappointing book. Its title suggests an intellectual adventure of the new, and its subtitle promises that it will be about why the Greeks are important to us -- in other words, what the ancient Greeks offered that is distinct to them and that made western civilization possible. This book does not deliver on the promises of its title. It is a rehash of standard scholarship delivered in language of the common man (common according to Cahill). As such it presents what amounts to a laundry-list of non-essentials that does not clearly differentiate the Greeks from other cultures, nor account for western civilization. For example, this list includes the following Greek "contributions" to the West: blood-lusting militarism, vowels, the subconscious yearning for community, unfettered discourse and inquiry, homosexuality, pornography, orgiastic debauchery, slavery, democracy, political theatre, the idea of innate guilt, xenophobia, sexism, racism, imperialism, "help" inventing things like philosophy, science and history, the Socratic Method, the syllogism, transcendentalism and the divine, improvements in architecture and sculpture, pathos and yearning for an impossible ideal, pedophilia, reckless conceit, the idea of self-sacrifice for the common good. How can the reader determine what out of this hash made western civilization possible? In the spirit of cultural relativism, Cahill offers no guidance. Cahill's list of non-essentials ignores the most fundamental Greek contribution that made western civilization possible: the discovery and use of reason. Because Cahill does not recognize this foundational, defining contribution of the Greeks, he cannot differentiate those aspects of the Greeks that are due to their discovery of reason versus those inherited from irrational, primitive cultures that in no way made the West possible. All in all, Cahill's work is without distinction -- it is typical of a certain stream of academia still knocking around since WWII that remains fascinated with unreason. For example Cahill devotes over 20 pages to Plato and his Socrates, quoting extensively in loving detail, while he offers only a couple of pages in passing reference to Aristotle. This is a standard pattern of some academics who still find comfort in the rambling, transcendental dialogues of Plato, and chilly apprehension before the disciplines of Aristotle. On this score there is nothing new here. The banality of this book is sealed by its failure to acknowledge that there is such a thing as human greatness, or to name what it is about western civilization that is truly great as compared with other cultures. The cultural relativism of this book, so in-line with mainstream thinking today, renders the Greeks as just another group of people that did some things that we sort of do too. The only interest offered in this alleged adventure is knowing that the Greeks were the first to do a lot of what we do. How boring. The only originality this work offers to the great conversation about the classical world is the author's flippant "common man" style that includes four-letter words and silly footnotes about banning SUVs and Donald Rumsfeld of all things. If readers want books that do offer a view of why the Greeks matter, they are much better off exploring Edith Hamilton's The Greek Way, or The Greek Achievement by Charles Freeman (who Cahill cattily describes in his Sailing book as an "amateur" -- a projection on Cahill's part.) For the best view to the Greeks, the Loeb Classical Library offers a true adventure over the wine-dark sea.
Rating:
Summary: Piqued my interest in Greek culture
Review: This review pertains to the audio CD. I purchased it on a whim, with no previous knowledge of the contents or the author, and with almost no experience with audio books. I listened to it while driving in the car, on my daily commute and while errand running. Who chose Olympia Dukakis to read this? I found myself "reading" along with her, thinking about where I would insert inflection, or emphasis; her rendering of this text is by and large flat and lifeless, as if she were afraid to do anything more than relate the content verbally. I can understand a reluctance to "act" the work, but to render a work about ancient Greek culture and its relevance to modern civilization emotionless is a curious thing to want to do. If I were listening to this in bed, or at leisure, her drone would put me to sleep in less than five minutes. And, it is more than a little disconcerting when she reads the words of Cahill pertaining to his life in Ireland; it occurs far enough into the work that I'd "bought into" the idea that the narrator and the author were one and the same, and I found myself thinking (seriously), "I didn't know that Olympia Dukakis was Irish!" Yikes. As for the content, as a spoken work it starts slowly and initially requires quite a bit of concentration. The premise and structure are laid out over most of 40 minutes or so in the introduction, and I found myself backspacing frequently to reaquire the density of thought that I'd missed. Eventually Dukakis gets in a groove, however, and I can hear her getting caught up in her love of the arts as she reads the chapter on Greek drama and poetry; when she reads about Oedipus, Jocasta, Medea, Sappho, Euripides, and others, the power of Cahill's thought and feeling becomes alive and beautiful. Other chapters are either more or less involving. Homer gets a fine effort, Athenean politics and social stucture less of one. Overall, I find the power of the ideas outweigh the lackluster medium, hence the 3-star rating. I know very little about Greek culture, other than what I had to learn in school 35 years ago. Listening to this work fascinated me and piqued my interest in the source material, and sparked a trip to the library for Homer, Euripides, and Socrates; not as a duty, but in search of truth, beauty and knowledge. If you are interested in becoming interested in things out of the ordinary, or perhaps in this case ideas and concepts so ordinary as to have been completely assimilated and unnoticeable, this audio CD might be right for you.
Rating:
Summary: Sex Maniacs for Insomniacs
Review: This study of the ancient Greeks and their molding of western civilization is easily the worst of Cahill's hinges of history books. While his study of the Irish and Jesus Christ pique the imagination, here Cahill plods through the Greeks well-known accomplishments and begins with a totally uninsightful examination of the Greeks at war. He concludes that all peoples fight one another -- wow, the scales fall from the eyes, what wonders of analysis! How about comparing the warring Greek city-states to the fractious relationships, on a larger geographical scale, in 20th century Europe, with Parisians somewhat analogous to Athenians and Prussians a modern equivalent, at least militarily, of the hardcore Spartans? Cahill's descriptions of Greek art are interesting, but oddly the book features many photographs of proto-porn, of satyrs and symposia turned orgies, which suggest that the art of our cultural forbearers was almost exclusively obsessed with copulation.
Cahill loves to shock. All his books contain short phrases, interspersed in scholarly passages, that are especially designed to rock back the reader. The style and effect are amusing if used in moderation. In "Wine Dark Sea" he goes overboard and just seems bufoonish. While a poor introduction to the mighty and erudite Greeks, this book at least gets a reaction, maybe even nudging further exploration of the subject in far superior sources.
Rating: 
Summary: Highly Accessible History
Review: Thomas Cahill's Hinges of History series has illuminated several corners of history for the general reader, from medieval Ireland to the development of Judaism and Christianity. Now Cahill has turned to the ancient Greeks to demonstrate why they are important today. In a series of several chapters written in scholarly yet accessible to the general reader style, Cahill skillfully dissects Greek history, philosophy, drama, and morality. He shows us the Greek origins of many of our ideas about government, literature, and art, and ends with a chapter that demonstrates the intersections between the Greeks and the Judeo-Christian ideas which came to dominate so much of the world. Like the other volumes in this series, Sailing the Wine Dark Sea will entertain and inform.
|
