Armand V

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Armand V Page 12

by Dag Solstad


  Aschehoug’s History of the World was published in the period 1982–86, with the last volume appearing in 1993. Taking into account Armand’s theories and plans for revisiting it, we need to present an overview of these sixteen volumes:

  Vol. 1: (In the beginning) Up until 1200 BC

  Vol. 2: (Advanced civilizations take shape) 1200–200 BC

  Vol. 3: (Asia meets Europe) 200 BC–500 AD

  Vol. 4: (Religions on the march) 500–1000

  Vol. 5: (Nomadic peoples and advanced civilizations) 1000–1300

  Vol. 6: (Europe in crisis) 1300–1500

  Vol. 7: (The world in the era of discovery) 1350–1500

  Vol. 8: (A new Europe) 1500–1750

  Vol. 9: (The world market and the meeting of cultures) 1500–1750

  Vol. 10: (Two revolutions) 1750–1815

  Vol. 11: (A strong Europe) 1815–1870

  Vol. 12: (The West conquers the world) 1870–1914

  Vol. 13: (From war to war) 1914–1945

  Vol. 14: (Three worlds) 1945–1965

  Vol. 15: (An insecure world) 1965–1985

  Vol. 16: (Toward a new era) 1985–1993

  Armand’s interest in revising this History of the World made its appearance one day in 1993. That was when the sixteenth and final volume arrived at the residence of the Norwegian ambassador in Madrid. At that time the Norwegian ambassador to Spain was Armand V. He solemnly placed the sixteenth and final volume on the bookshelf in his private quarters. Then he surveyed the entire set as it stood on the shelf, one volume after another, in chronological order. He stepped close to the bookcase, and since this was the day on which the entire History of the World was finally complete, in all sixteen volumes, he pulled out one volume after another and perused the number on the spine, the title of each specific volume, and what period of time it covered. Quietly he read the words aloud, with great solemnity but with a furrow on his brow that got deeper and deeper. When he was done, he exclaimed, though still quietly — no, now he said it quite loudly: What the hell? Here we have a History of the World which covers my own life in no less than four volumes. And I haven’t even turned fifty. Where will it all end!

  Then and there Armand decided to put together a plan for an entirely new History of the World, to be published under the title: Aschehoug’s Revised History of the World. Since it was Aschehoug’s History of the World that he was determined to totally transform, he decided he would stay within the framework of sixteen volumes; this would be an unalterable condition. So he was strictly forbidden to expand the number to twenty or twenty-five volumes, even seventeen volumes would not be permitted, he was strictly forbidden to be tempted to even think of an extra volume. Even if he should find an editing mode that was perfectly suited to, for example, a History of the World in eighteen volumes, this would be outside the premises that served as the basis for the new Aschehoug’s Revised History of the World.

  Night after night, whenever he had a chance — and that was not often — he would stay up into the wee hours, pondering this project. It was more difficult than he’d imagined, because if he happened to get a good idea, it would soon collide with another idea. Not until March 1994 did the truly brilliant idea occur to him, the final idea, and it glittered in all its mathematical simplicity. He found a mathematical key to dividing up the material. He calculated how many years Aschehoug’s current History of the World covered. Not wanting to be unreasonable, he started with the year at the beginning of volume 2, which was 1200 BC. If he’d started with the rise of the first nascent cultures, he could have begun as early as approximately 6000 BC, but he found that unreasonable from a mathematical point of view; it was right to start with 1200 BC, the era that saw the first advanced civilizations. This meant that he would cover 3200 years of history (1200 + 2000 = 3200) in sixteen volumes. This meant, in turn, and still from a mathematical point of view, that each volume would contain 3200 years ÷ 16 = 200 years of history. My time on earth is just as important as yours. Running throughout history is a ceaselessly precious flood of time. Hence: Vol. 1: 1200–1000 BC; Vol. 2: 1000–800 BC; Vol. 3: 800–600 BC; Vol. 4: 600–400 BC; Vol. 5: 400–200 BC; Vol. 6: 200 BC–AD 0; Vol. 7: AD 0–200; Vol. 8: AD 200–400. At this point we’re halfway through the development of human history, as best we can understand and survey it. And still to come are both the Western Roman and the Eastern Roman empires, both Rome and Byzantium. Vol. 9: 400–600; Vol. 10: 600–800. As you see, the 10th volume of what is a specifically planned sixteen-volume work ends with the crowning of Charlemagne as the Holy Roman Emperor, in the Franks’ own capital of Aachen, but Byzantium is yet to come. Vol. 11: 800–1000. Of course it’s possible to choose to begin this volume with the crowning of Charlemagne instead of placing it at the end of volume 10, but Byzantium is yet to come. Vol. 12: 1000–1200. Vol. 13: 1200–1400. Vol. 14: 1400–1600. Only in this volume does Byzantium fall. Vol. 15: 1600–1800. Vol. 16: 1800–2000. (In reality, ending in 1945.)

  * * *

  28. But all of this was mere speculation on his part. And these big volumes he was reading? They weren’t necessarily intended as part of his plan to put together Aschehoug’s Revised History of the World. But they ended up being part of the project, and that was how you might find him, bowed over those hefty, leather-bound books in the glow of his desk lamp. After the idea had occurred to him and he put together the plan, he would often, on the rare free evenings he had, sit there reading Aschehoug’s History of the World, the whole time editing the volumes in the back of his mind. The closer he got to his own era, the more he valued and venerated his own project. In fact, he felt a sense of triumph on behalf of history itself. On behalf of everyone who had lived before him, especially prior to 1750. Armand studied this contemporary view of history, the whole time keeping his own revised version in the back of his mind. He regarded this process as a way of training his historical sense. Veneration for the concept of time. He had a clear feeling that he was training his lost ability to show historical discipline.

  Gradually he grew bolder. He no longer saw any reason to begin with the first advanced civilizations (in approx. 1200 BC), but instead went all the way back to the very first traces of cultures. This meant he could go all the way back to approx. 6000 BC, and then each of the sixteen volumes had to comprise 6000 + 2000 = 8000 ÷ 16 = 500 years. He thought this was an excellent idea, since it reinforced, rather than weakened, the historical consciousness and our understanding of the passage of human history here on earth. He could also have gone further back, to the traces of human civilization in 10,000 BC or so, but he chose 6000 BC, linking it to the first settlement in Çatal Hüyük in what is today Anatolia. Vol. 1: 6000 –5500 BC; Vol. 2: 5500–5000 BC; Vol. 3: 5000–4500 BC; Vol. 4: 4500–4000 BC; Vol. 5: 4000–3500 BC. These first five volumes could be marvelous. They would deal exclusively with traces in the form of actual strata and excavations, as well as in the form of myths. Archaeology and myths. Five of the sixteen volumes about the history of humankind, the first five volumes, bathed in the distant light of dawn. Vol. 6: 3500–3000 BC. Still archaeology and myths, but now the walls of Jericho. Vol. 7: 3000–2500 BC. The Egyptians arrive, archaeology, myths, and historical names. Vol. 8: 2500–2000 BC. By the end of this volume we have made it halfway through human history, as viewed with our unmarred historical consciousness. Vol. 9: 2000–1500 BC. Isn’t it almost time for Moses to lead the Jews out of the land of Egypt, spending forty years in the desert in order to reach the Promised Land? Yes, soon, because the history of the world has reached the halfway point now, measured with our unmarred, but terminating historical consciousness. Vol. 10: 1500–1000 BC. Now Moses appears. First as an abandoned baby in the bulrushes, then as the man who leads his people back to his Promised Land, as he sees it, yet he dies before he arrives there. In this volume Joshua’s troops blow their trumpets to topple the walls of Jericho, incredibly enough four volumes after the walls appeared for the first
time, newly erected. Vol. 11: 1000–500 BC; Vol. 12: 500 BC– AD 0; Vol. 13: AD 0–500. The Roman Empire has an emperor who has ruled for thirty years, called Augustus, and by the end of the volume the Western Roman Empire, Rome, has fallen, while the Eastern Roman Empire, Byzantium, still exists. Vol. 14: AD 500–1000. Midway through this volume Charle­magne is crowned emperor of the Holy Roman Empire in Aachen, while Byzantium continues to exist. Vol. 15, the next to last volume about the history of human civilization: AD 1000–1500. In this volume, toward the end, Byzantium falls. Vol. 16: AD 1500–2000. (In reality, ending just before the French Revolution, let’s say the day when Mozart wrote down the last chords of The Marriage of Figaro.) This is Aschehoug’s Revised History of the World, first revision of Armand’s original revision.

  28B. “Vol. 16: 1800–2000 (in reality ending in 1945)” in the revised edition of Aschehoug’s History of the World and Vol. 16: AD 1500–2000 (in reality, ending just before the French Revolution, let’s say the day when Mozart wrote down the last chords of The Marriage of Figaro) in the revision of Aschehoug’s History of the World (which could also be called the first alternative to the revised edition) points to a problem. When does the time end for descendants to legitimately pass judgment on the past? Armand had chosen 1945 as the line of demarcation, the stopping point for the space of time about which a man toward the end of the twentieth century has the right to speak in an overview of world history (actually European history). Even when the last volume deals with the period 1800–2000. We know too little about everything after 1945; all the research done on the period 1945–2000 must be categorized as tentative, experimental, a modest suggestion. The same holds true if the last volume, the sixteenth, deals with the period 1500–2000. But a period of five hundred years presupposes that an even stricter framework regarding statements can be made. Time then seems to run more slowly, possibly with a greater cosmological understanding. The French Revolution in 1789 will then be a natural point in time, demarcating when history becomes unresolved, unclear, as symbolized by one of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s resolved works, just prior to this, as history’s preliminary conclusion.

  * * *

  29. With this sort of disciplined view of history in the back of his mind, Armand felt that he had won the right to maintain an uninhibited sense of curiosity toward its passage. He could devote himself to feeling amazed that history had proceeded as it had and not in some other way. Just as in the life of an individual, there are many coincidences at work. If you think about your own life, over and over again, doing a thorough job of it, you’ll end up terrified about leaving your room at all, in case you make a misstep and end up in an irreparable situation. Armand still remembers the icicle that fell from the sixth floor of an apartment building in Helsinki in 1994, grazing the back of his head before it crashed to the pavement where he was walking; he can still feel the gust of air from that sudden assault, or embrace, of death. It’s the same thing with the passage of history; the number of such coincidences that either strike or don’t strike, though it may be a very close call, are and were endless. Armand spent a lot of time brooding over these random events, pondering whether they represented a general principle that drives history forward or just considering them as individual coincidences that particularly intrigued him. This became a favorite pastime of his. When it came right down to it, this was part of the training to which he subjected himself in order to rediscover the historical discipline that he had lost.

  * * *

  30. Before we even know a single person by name, what was most important had already been achieved! The horse had been tamed. The ox was hitched to the plow. The pig was in its sty. The sheep was grazing peacefully. The four seed grains were a fact; and nothing has changed over the passage of time: no new grains have appeared. No new domestic animals have shown up! Throughout history the tiger has lived in the jungle, where it has been trapped and caught, put on display in the circus, but it has not been tamed. It still kills the animal tamer for inexplicable reasons. And the bear is still the bear roaming great distances. And the moose. Why hasn’t the moose become domesticated? Couldn’t the moose have been hitched to the plow with much greater effect than the ox? Then why the ox instead of the moose? Couldn’t the moose be tamed? The big, long-legged moose? With its antlers? The wild moose that knows when it has been seen, shaking its antlers and sending a rushing sound through the forest, through the trees. The ox isn’t as strong as the moose, yet it was the one that was tamed. The tamed ox is still furious and far more dangerous than the tamed moose would be! Why wasn’t the moose tamed? Does it eat too much? But now it’s too late, it would take thousands of years to tame the moose. What about the bear? Why not tame the bear? In the circus the bear can be trained to do all sorts of tricks; maybe it would take only a couple of hundred years before the bear could be tamed to become a useful domesticated animal. The bear in a sty.

  * * *

  31. Christianity’s capacity for survival: it is human-made, perhaps a historical coincidence.

  * * *

  32. When Spain was a world power, their kings were addressed as “Your Catholic Majesty.” During their reign — the reign of the Spanish Habsburgs — an attempt was made to influence the Holy See in Rome to preach a new dogma: the doctrine of the double virginal birth. Not only Mary but also her mother Anna was impregnated by the Holy Spirit. Under the Catholic Kings Philip II, Philip III, Philip IV, and the imbecilic Charles (Carlos II), dispatches were constantly sent to Rome, urging the preaching of this doctrine as the true word of God. There was an obvious reason for the keen interest of the Spanish court in this matter. It offended the Spanish courtiers, and also the Spanish clergy who served the Catholic kings, that the Virgin Mary, the mother of Jesus, hadn’t herself been conceived by a virgin. She was therefore defiled at birth, and it was a paradox that the Son of God should have been born to a defiled woman, even if that woman had been impregnated as a virgin by the undefiled Holy Spirit. This appeal was regularly sent to the Holy See in Rome over a period lasting one hundred and fifty years. But the Holy See never adopted the request. The doctrine of the double virginal birth never became Christian dogma. The Catholic kings had to live with this paradox. Armand fully understood their argument, which had turned out not to be sufficient for the Holy See. Armand often wondered what the Holy See’s own argument had been in not adopting the urgent and persistent appeals of the Catholic kings. It was probably written down somewhere, though Armand had not yet discovered it. When he was stationed in Madrid, he made frequent visits to the Prado Museum, which houses Velázquez’s paintings of the Spanish Habsburg monarchs. Velázquez portrayed all of them as deeply serious — especially Philip IV — lost in their own, perhaps deep, thoughts. There is reason to assume that Velázquez was familiar with the quibbling of the Catholic kings with regard to the Holy See in Rome, and that he therefore painted the kneeling Philip in such a way that it’s clear to the viewer, this man is tormented by the thought of the defilement that has become associated with the figure of Christ, because His Holiness in Rome has not presented the necessary explanation that will erase all doubt regarding the purity of the Virgin Mary, from birth onward.

  * * *

  33. The dirigible. Around 1930 it seemed as if it had a real future. Especially carrying passengers through the air. But that’s not what happened. Instead, it was the flying machine that triumphed in the battle for the peaceful territory of the air. Now, all traveling through the air takes place via machines whose direct and unmistakable forebears are the fragile flying machines of the Wright brothers. That’s actually too bad. It would have done us good to see dirigibles in the sky today. It would have made the oceans of the air much livelier. Next to slender fighter planes, with their mysterious trails, the whirring helicopters, which are the insects of the air, and the commercial planes coming in for a landing over the city’s rooftops (those giant metallic birds, roaring infernally as they approach the landing sites at the airports) it would have been a
relief to the eye to stare upward and catch sight of a dirigible slowly sailing off, like a blue whale of the air, saved from extinction.

  * * *

  34. And otherwise: all these coincidences of history, which could have changed things drastically. The best-known example is Julian, the Roman emperor in the fourth century who was also known as Julian the Apostate. And what if Pearl Harbor hadn’t happened? That’s another.

  * * *

  35. Armand knew the author who is writing this. Back then I wasn’t an author but a student from the same town as him, two or three years older, but belonging to somewhat the same circle. We haven’t met later on, but he has undoubtedly read about me in the newspapers, maybe he has even read some of my books, probably surprised that I became a communist, a member of the AKP (the Workers’ Communist Party), a Maoist. That was not the path he had expected me to take. Later on, I read Armand’s mature reflections on Ibsen’s play Brand, and his thoughts were no doubt influenced by the fact that the AKP also included me, most likely to quite a high degree. Even though Armand and I were distant friends who later lost all contact with each other, it so happens that distant friends from your youth — from the time when you are just starting out and up until your midtwenties — can illuminate both your own life and the age in which you’re living to a strangely significant degree; actually far more importantly than close friends can. You might call this the triumph of the minor characters, meaning that those individuals who are minor characters in real life, when everything is going on at the present moment, are able to elevate themselves to a position of main character in the pale light of reflection, after the fact.

 

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