Customer Reviews

Thunder At Twilight: Vienna 1913/1914

5 star:		(15)
4 star:		(3)
3 star:		(1)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

In the first pages of this book, author Frederic Morton reveals the reason he has such an interest in Austrian history. His grandfather died in World War I and his father came to the United States from Vienna. If you read books such as Rebecca West's Black Lamb and Grey Falcon, you can't help but hate the Habsburg monarchy that ruled for centuries over Austria and much of Eastern Europe. The Austrians shamelessly mistreated their subjects, using divide and conquer strategies to keep their client states in line. The Austrians also looted the distant reaches of their vast holdings for Austrian benefit. Many of the difficulties found in the Balkans today can be traced to the inept government of the Austrian Empire. That's one view. The other can be found in this exquisitely majestic book. This text is not a panegyric to Habsburg rule, however. Rather, it is a tribute to the fabulous city of Vienna during the waning days of empire, when World War I was looming on the horizon of time.

Vienna is presented as an international city that attracted numerous historical figures. According to Morton, within a period of months Vienna was home to Adolf Hitler, Josef Broz (known to history as Marshal Tito), Uncle Joe Stalin, Leon Trotsky and Sigmund Freud. These characters lived out their own private paths to destiny within blocks of each other. Morton really makes these people come alive with his narrative. We see Hitler in a homeless hostel where he has his own personal chair that no one dares to sit in and occasionally launches into oratorical tirades against Jews and foreigners. Tito works at a car factory and likes to scope out chicks on the weekends (which is much easier to do when you don't have a chest full of medals!). Trotsky indulges himself in French literature and lively debate at the cafes, where he has a brief encounter with a dour Stalin. Sigmund Freud engages in an intellectual war with Carl Jung and writes numerous papers in psychology that would come to form much of what the common man knows about that discipline. Stalin arrives to research a pamphlet before returning to Russia and a three-year stretch in Siberia. What all of these stories ultimately prove is that Vienna was truly a hub of Europe and an important city of the time. It's still pretty neat to think about all of these huge figures moving about in the same city at the same time, though. Morton shows us how almost all of these figures were influenced by their time in Vienna. Hitler talks about it in Mein Kampf and Trotsky wrote about it as well. About the only figure that doesn't seem to be changed is Stalin, who stomps and grumbles about in shabby peasant clothes. It was interesting to learn that Stalin beat Lenin at chess seven times in a row, though!

What Morton succeeds in doing with this book is humanizing history. Today we only see Hitler in old newsreel footage screaming his head off at rallies. In Vienna, Hitler often gave money to his fellow boarders who can't afford food or rent. Sigmund Freud, who always looks so stodgy in those old pictures, loved to hunt mushrooms with his children while wearing outlandish local garb. Even the Habsburgs are painted with a brushstroke of decency. Franz Ferdinand, the sullen heir to the throne who was assassinated at Sarajevo in June 1914, comes off much better here than in most history books. Morton paints him as a dove surrounded by hawks. Franz constantly tries to avert war, especially with Serbia. Of particular note is the relationship the archduke had with his wife, Sophie Chotek. Chotek, who Morton constantly refers to as "morganatic," was not of the right blood to marry a Habsburg heir. She rarely got to share in the royal activities, and when she did, courtiers of the archduke's father, Franz Joseph, belittled her endlessly.

The end of the book shows us the dramatic countdown to war, as the archduke and his wife drive to their deaths and into history. The account of the assassination is very interesting and well worth the read. I feel it rivals the Kennedy assassination in terms of sheer incompetence and idiocy. When someone tosses a bomb at the archduke's motorcade, these morons actually continue the procession! Franz Ferdinand's security detail should have been shot for this action alone. Of course, the procession wasn't stopped and the result was war. The whole mess reeks of conspiracy.

This is an excellent book that can really spark an interest in history. Morton uses lots of sources, such as newspapers, to convey the actual feel of the time. A few pictures thrown in helps to place faces with names. Often, Morton tells us what the weather was like on a certain day before he unfolds the events. This gives the text an insight often missing in scholarly accounts. We can almost see things happening. That being said, this really isn't a book I would use for research. It is more of an interpretative text to provide entertainment. If I were teaching a class on this time period, I would assign this book in conjunction with other, more serious books. Very nice, indeed!

Focusing on just two climactic years, 1913 - 1914, Frederic Morton recreates Vienna in all its splendor during the last days of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. The vibrant social, intellectual, and cultural life of Vienna is examined within the context of the seething nationalism of the Balkans, the Machiavellian intrigue among the political rulers of the European nations and Russia, and the human frailties of the seemingly larger-than-life national leaders, which assure that the twilight of the empire will eventually be overtaken by darkness.

Rigorously selective in his choice of detail, Morton brings to life the varied activities of a broad cross-section of Viennese society, and reproduces the intellectual milieu which eventually leads to the rise of some of the most influential leaders of the twentieth century--Trotsky, Stalin, Adler, Freud, Jung, Lenin, Hitler, Tito, and a host of others, all of whom are part of Vienna life.

Morton's seriousness of purpose and his scholarship are undeniable, yet his primary contribution here, it seems to me, is his ability to make historical personages come to life, to make the reader feel that they were real, breathing humans with both virtues and frailties, and not the cardboard characters one finds so often in history books. Vienna, as we see it here, has a real heart, albeit one that beats in 3/4 time.

From the masquerades and balls held by all classes of society, to the revolutionary movements, innumerable newspapers and pamphlets, lively coffee houses, and seemingly endless games of political maneuvering, one feels the ferment and activity which must lead, eventually, to change. The liveliness of the city, as depicted here, is a visual and intellectual contrast to the formality and frailty of Emperor Franz Josef, making the twilight of his empire understandable and its demise inevitable. Even the empire's demise is stylish, however. According to Morton: As "The World War [came] to the city by the Danube, [it came] dressed as a ball. Tra-la...Hurrah!" Mary Whipple

An excellent and lovely book that reads almost like a novel, it is also an alarming book if you read it, as I did, in the aftermath of September 11, 2001. The diplomatic and military blunders that produced World War I seem, at this moment, to provide a kind of blueprint for starting a war that no one really wants to start. Some of the correspondences between then and now are startling--for example, the super-ultimatum given to the offending country with the expectation that the terms cannot be met. Altogether I would rate this book higher than Barbara Tuchman's The Guns of August, though, to be fair, Tuchman's book is more of a military history and gives only a tiny look at the opening shots of WWI--the murder of the Archduke who was the heir to the Austrian throne--whereas Morton's book establishes the Archduke Franz Ferdinand as a major character in the narrative, then reveals that the Archduke was (ironically) a pacifist who was trying to avert a war in Europe, and then places the Archduke's story in the context of the larger story of Vienna, Austria and Europe. One of the many pleasures that the book offers is an evocative look at the old, whimisical royalty-besotted Vienna just as it was begetting the new Europe--Freud, Trotsky, and Stalin all figure in the story of pre-WWI Vienna as do a number of other major political and artistic figures. Vienna was a prosperous, beautiful, pleasure-loving city that perversely found a way to start a horrific and self-destroying war.

A wonderful book written about the cosmopolitan city of Vienna before the outbreak of WWI. Morton's style of writing makes this an enjoyable read this is not dry history. In 1913 Vienna was host to men who would make an indelible impression on the 20th century. Just to name a few, Lenin, Trotsky, Stalin, Hitler, Tito, Freud, and the Hapsburg Royal family all within one square mile of each other. Morton gives a good portrayal of the lives of these men during their formative time spent in Vienna. He also gives a good account of the tension between Arch Duke Franz Ferdinand who wanted to reform the Austro-Hungarian Empire to include the room for nationalist aspirations of the Slavs, and Emperor Franz Joseph who wanted to maintain the status quo. I t makes one wonder how European history might have been different if Franz Ferdinand had not been assassinated and was given the chance to reform the Empire.

As a retired Army officer and political philosopher,I recommend this book to all who are interested in history of WWI or to those who want to learn more about the "gilded age" of Europe.

Something is missing. The book was a fantastic read. I would have given it 5 stars and a "Bravo!" - but some things are not mentioned that are needed. I read, elsewhere, about the "blank check" from the Germans that encouraged the Austrians to start a war with the Serbs. This would lead to something bigger for the Germans, against the French. Also, my previous readings indicated that Tisza and the Hungarians were not interested in war and urged the Austrians to offer, at least, an ultimatum. The Austrians, then came up with the "ultimatum/non-ultimatum". The author gives the appearance that Germany was passive in the whole situation and did not want to get involved. No mention is made of the "blank check". The only mention Tisza gets is that Franz Ferdinand did not like him and that the Hungarians abused the Serbs within their land. Nothing was mentioned, in particular, of the Tri-Monarchy that Franz Ferdinand had thought-up. I feel that the author left out some important things.

Other than these points, I thought the book was a really good read to learn about some really sinister people running around Vienna before the outbreak of war. Great information was presented on Princip and, of course, the relationship between Franz Ferdinand and Franz Joesph.

I will read further for information about the above things not mentioned in this book. 4 3/4 stars.

Stalin, Lenin, Hitler, Freud, Jung--everyone knows the names, but who were these people and what did they all have in common? How did Vienna link them all?

And then there are the names that are not on the tip of one's tongue--Count Leopold von Berchtold, Gavrilo Princip, Trifko Grabez, Nedeljko Cabrinivic. Who in the world were these people and how did their actions lead the world into The Great War (which should perhaps have been more accurately known as von Berchtold's War)?

As more or less every other reviewer has mentioned, every high school graduate who labored to stay awake through the mandatory course in world history knows that the First World War was precipitated by the assassination of the Austrian archduke. Students with extraordinarily good memories may even recollect that his name was Franz Ferdinand. But how many knew that he was a political embarrassment to the Habsburg emperor Franz Joseph? That his wife was shunned from state functions? That she died with her husband from the assassin's bullets? That no one but the new crown prince, the Archduke Karl, met and accompanied the bodies from the train station to the palace chapel, where they lay in state for only a minimal amount of time? That other heads of state were discouraged from attending the funeral? That the couple was not buried in the traditional Habsburg crypts?

There was no inevitable reason that the murder of Franz Ferdinand and Sophie should have resulted in a militaristic conflagration. Had it not been for the political tension between Serbia and the Austro-Hungarian Empire and for the desire of the Austrian foreign minister (von Berchtold) to subjugate Serbia militarily, the assassination would never have precipitated the war. Why did everything come to pass as it did?

That question is what Morton addresses in THUNDER AT TWILIGHT. By the end of the book, the reader understands much more clearly how the tensions, alliances, aging and increasingly ineffectual monarchs, and belligerent ministers of governments coalesced to produce the greatest war that the world had ever seen. At the same time, the reader sees the cultural and social milieu of Vienna, the seat of Austrian power, and understands how it all contributed to the ultimate horrific cataclysm. Some other reviewers have criticized Morton for painting such a complete picture of Viennese society, right down to its gardens, parks, and weather. However, to me, these vivid descriptions, whether or not they are literally accurate in every respect, contribute greatly to ones appreciation of the people and of the environment that led to the war. Not only do these descriptions help us form a complete mental image of the Viennese but they also result in a very readable and lively narrative.

Morton's vivid prose is as far removed from the dry recitation of facts and dates in my high school history textbook as it is possible to be. In his hands, history does indeed come alive and entrances the reader. I cannot recall coming across a single boring passage in the entire book. To be honest, however, there was one slightly annoying repetition: Practically every time Franz Joseph's wife Sophie is mentioned, the passage includes the adjective "morganatic." The word is completely appropriate and thoroughly accurate and even suggests the decadence of the dying Habsburg dynasty and its outmoded traditions. Yet, its continual repetition in the text may say more about the author's condemnation of the last Habsburg regime than of the royal couple. That's just a very small nit to pick with what is actually a fascinating account of the festering tensions culminating in world war.

I highly recommend the book to everyone interested in an attention-grabbing account of a brief but significant period in modern human history. You know, I find it curious that most of us easily recall the names of our American assassins--John Wilkes Booth, Charles Giteau, Leon Czolgosz, Lee Harvey Oswald, Sirhan Sirhan--none of whom generated a great war, but very few know the name Gavrilo Princip. THUNDER AT TWILIGHT should help rectify that omission.

A college professor recommended this to me so I read it in about a day. It is very interesting how Morton weaves history into some sort of a novel that's very easy to read. Inspired by the death of his uncle in World War I, Morton writes about the history and the climax leading up to the very moment when the Crown Prince Francis Ferdinand and his wife Sophie were assassinated by a Serbian terrorist youth.

Morton explains the nasty relationship with the Hapsburg Empire (that includes Austria) and the lower Slavic nations and the growing animosity between them. This is a great book for history buffs. My only complaints are that there aren't any citations in the book and that the friendship between Carl Jung and Sigmund Freud don't seem to have anything to do with the story itself.

This is a terrific look at the socio-political aspects of life in Austria-Hungary's capitol of Vienna just before the outbreak of the First World War. It contains the most sympathetic pro-Franz Ferdinand view that I have ever come across. Morton's prose paints a vivid picture of the decaying Empire.

The myriad of famous and infamous figures who were in Vienna in 1913-1914 is truly amazing. For the Empire: Doddering old Franz Joseph, the infamous militarist and Serbo-Italiano-Russo-phobe General Conrad, the Slavophobe Count Tisza of Hungary, the Kaiser and Franz Ferdinand and his wife Sophie. For the totalitarian future: Adolf Hitler (evading military service), Trotsky writing for Pravda, and Stalin passing thru on research for articles. Then there are segments devoted to Freud and his battles with Jung over psycho-analysis. Not to mention the detailing of the Serbian assassins and internal politics in the Empire.

The tension builds as the clock ticks down to June 28, 1914 in Sarajevo. A perfic lead-in to John Biggin's novels "A Sailor of Austria" et al.

Frederic Morton is one of the outstanding historians of our time. He makes connections between people and places and large world events in a way only matched by CV Woodward. Thunder at Twilight makes Vienna, at the outbreak of WWI, understandable and very real. You must read this book!

I can think of few other books, save Edmund Wilson's To the Finland Station and Andrei Biely's St. Petersburg, that so brilliantly captured the spirit of a time, bringing key figures to life and recreating a vibrant sense of being there. In this case the scene is Vienna, on the eve of the Great War. I was captivated.

And what a cast of characters! Russian revolutionaries (Stalin, Lenin, Trotsky), aristocrats and courtiers of the Habsburg dynasty (foremost among them the Emperor Franz Joseph and the Crown Prince, Franz Ferdinand); future catalyst of WWII, Adolf Hitler; and a host of intellectual and artistic giants such as Sigmund Freud, Thomas Mann, Oskar Kokoschka, and Arnold Schönberg. Impressively, the main narrative thread isn't lost in this colorful swirl of personages; in fact, for a reader with even a modest grounding in European history and culture, these numerous fleeting appearances only add to the vibrancy of the tale.

I was swept up immediately by Morton's heady prose -- at times, I confess, I found it to dip rather heavily into the symbolic or engage in the overly rhetorical flourish -- but still his writing has undeniable evocative power. Here, for instance, is a passage describing the eccentric habit of a struggling artist living in poverty in a Viennese "men's home":

"....Now the brush would drop from his hand. He would push the palette aside. He would rise to his feet.
"He began to speak, to shout, to orate. With hissing consonants and hall-filling vowels, he launched into a harangue on morality, racial purity, the German mission and Slav treachery, on Jews, Jesuits, and Freemasons. His forelock would toss, his color-stained hands shred the air, his voice rise to an operatic pitch. Then, just as suddenly as he had started, he would stop. He would gather his things together with an imperious clatter, stalk off to his cubicle.
"And the others would just stare after him."

That, of course, was a sketch of Adolf Hitler.

But what most struck me after reading A Distant Thunder is how well Morton had made clear the causes of World War I. Of course, every school boy knows that the trigger was the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand. Like me, however, many have undoubtedly wondered just who was this Franz Ferdinand to have set off such a sequence of cataclysmic events. Morton makes the ill-fated Crown Prince the central character of his book, and in doing so infuses it with heavy irony, for Franz Ferdinand was, despite all his bluster, a constant advocate of peace, not war. That the Great War was begun ostensibly on his account was the supreme irony.

Morton adroitly renders a sympathetic but unsentimental portrait of Franz Ferdinand, highlighting his problematic relationship with his uncle, the Emperor, and his devotion to his wife Sophie, whom he had married contrary to Habsburg wishes. If there is a tragedy here beyond the insane march to war, it is this story of a prince and the sacrifices he made for his beloved wife, who was continually slighted by a court intent on keeping her down among the "non-royals" in its merciless pecking order.

Finally, as an occasional visitor to Vienna, a city I've long admired, I'm greatly looking forward to reading Morton's other Vienna-inspired history, A Nervous Splendor, which deals with the suicide of Crown Prince Rudolf in 1889.