Few cities in history have so captured the world's imagination as the fabled city of Vienna. This uniquely European venue has a schizophrenic past -- the birthplace of both the waltz and psychoanalysis, Zionism and Nazism, and home to Mozart, Beethoven, Adolf Hitler, Marie Antoinette, Leon Trotsky, Sigmund Freud, Martin Buber, Billy Wilder, Fritz Lang, Franz Kafka, and countless other artists, writers, scientists, philosophers, composers, madmen, and saints.
Veteran New York Times correspondent Paul Hofmann, a native Viennese, brings this enchanted land of contradictions vibrantly to life. This first-of-its-kind sociohistorical analysis covers two thousand years of Viennese history, politics, and culture, examining in detail a brilliant group of Jewish émigrés, forced to flee the ominous rise of National Socialism, and their immeasurable contribution to the culture of a dozen scattered countries, among them the United States, Australia, Israel, Canada, and England.
From the reign of Roman Emperor Marcus Aurelius to the controversial rise of President Kurt Waldheim, The Viennese is a richly detailed portrait of a city with untold influence upon the development of Western civilization as we know it today.
Paul Hofmann was an author, journalist, linguist, and political activist. The New York Times, for whom he was a foreign correspondent, described him as fluent in German, Italian, French, and English, having a command of several other languages that was more than passable, as well as "a broad grasp of history and diplomatic affairs and an often playful curiosity."
In The Viennese, Paul Hofmann presents the biography of a very old city through its many incarnations. The book spans the two thousand-some years from Vienna's beginnings as a Roman camp to Kurt Waldheim's presidency in the 1980s. In tracing the history of Vienna and, at times, the entire Austro-Hungarian Empire in relation to its capital city, Hofmann focuses on the city's residents. He seeks throughout to elucidate the nature and character specific to the Viennese and, while their city has changed overtime, he finds a continuity in the temperament of the people.
Hofmann describes a cultivated populace that takes pride in its city's cultural heritage, but that also overindulges in self-pity. He presents a dualistic picture of an inconsistent mentalité -- the same Viennese who like their desserts laden mit Schlag (with whipped cream) and their self-image tempered with Schmäh*, also boast an exceedingly high rate of suicide. In fact, as an expatriate Viennese, Hofmann's depiction of his people portrays the very same polarity of emotion of which he accuses the Viennese. And justly so. This same city that nourished the creative output of Beethoven, Klimt and Freud, embraced the destructive fervor of Nazi anti-Semitism with disturbing alacrity. If the city itself has spawned such a wide and conflicting array of human experience, reactions to those experiences must vary as widely, and seem sometimes as inconsistent.
In addition to his exploration of this duality among the Viennese, Hofmann engages in another project; unexpressed, but to which his entire discussion pertains. Namely, through his depiction of the overall character of the Viennese, Hofmann studies by implication the dynamic of the relationship between a city and its inhabitants. The fact that Hofmann never explicitly problematizes the relationship between an urban space and urban dwellers is frustrating given that his subject takes for granted the nature of this non-transparent relationship. Nevertheless, for a reader open to doing so, The Viennese offers great substance in terms of which to consider this sticky relationship.
Between cities and their inhabitants circulates strange energy. It is causally ambiguous energy. Relationally unspecific. That is to say, though humans build cities, do we really create them? Do they not also create us? Obviously human hands construct a given city but, as the saying goes, Rome was not built in a day. Building a city is not like building, say, a house. You don't collect your materials, assemble them and then, ta-da. Done. You have a city. You're never really done with a city. It will always change, whether to grow, shrink, decay, revive. Vienna, as the capital of a former world empire that is now a small republic, well represents the possible changing fortunes of an urban center and the chaos such changes can wreak in a population's psychology. Cities, like people, are never static, but morph constantly.
Cities, though manmade, bear closer resemblance to living organisms than they do to inanimate objects. A city's complexity rivals that of organic life and, similar to the internet or the economy perhaps, what began as a human creation soon outgrows specific human control. The city starts to live on its own, adopt characteristics that do not necessarily belong to any single builder or dweller of the city, but which the city imparts to its human element. And yet humans comprise a primary component of a city. They are not separate from the city, but part of it, in it, of it. Without humans, a city is a corpse. They are the actors on a stage and yet the city is not the stage, but the play itself. And who can tell what ways the play dictates the performance of the actors and the actors inform the content of the play? Hofmann treats Vienna and the Viennese this way -- as two intermingled components of one reality, each acting upon the other and, in a sense, comprising the other.
Published in 1988, Paul Hofmann uses primary and secondary sources to describe the cultural life of Vienna from the late 19th century through World War II and beyond. Vienna serves as a microcosm of what happened during that period in Europe as a whole – from years of advancements in science and engineering, when the arts flourished and individual freedom was enhanced by education, improving healthcare and economic opportunity came the decades when nationalism and anti-semiticism stirred up two world wars which cost millions their lives and left the cultural life of the past in ruins.
Telling is Hofmann's description of "Red Vienna" -- the years after WWI when the city government was dominated by socialists. Unfortunately the reforms instituted by the city government existed in the context of the Great Depression on top of the constraints imposed on Austria by Treaty of Versailles.
In the end, cheap housing and free schools were no match for the promises of the Nazis who claimed that once they rid Vienna of its Jews there would be enough for all. Of course it was not just or even primarily the working class of Austria that welcomed Hitler. The head of the Austrian Catholic Church lent a hand as well.
There are lessons to be learned from this story. The right to vote by itself is not sufficient to prevent countries from being taken over by destructive leaders and admiration for the arts is not sufficient to prevent prejudice from turning to violence. Rights protecting the individual and the rule of law are critical to protecting societies from mass hysteria. Those rights must add up to opportunities for individuals to have hope of a better future. When people have hope, they can overcome their fears and those who promote fear for their own ends.
I found this book on the shelf of the house where we were staying in Vienna. Though the book was published over 30 years ago (1988) it is a very fine social history of the city going back to its origins. The author is/was a native of the city so he has inside knowledge about the culture and a definite point of view. He examines both the good and bad in the city's history. He celebrates the successes and examines their failures, including the exuberance of many upon Hitler's annexation of the country in 1938. I always enjoy reading about a place that I am visiting, or have visited, as I think I have a better understanding of the place. I may not, but at least I can bring to my mind the places that are referenced. I was enjoying this book while staying in a house exchange in Leopoldstadt, just beyond the Ringstrasse, between the Danube Canal and River, originally the Jewish section of town. I knew I wouldn't be able to finish it while visiting so I asked to borrow it. Our host said sure but she wanted me to return it because she thought "it was a good one". Knowing returning it might be difficult, I instead found a used copy on Amazon and it came soon after we returned home. I'm glad I was able to finish it. Sitting right in the middle of Europe, Vienna has a very interesting history.
Informative and well written survey of the city's two thousand year history. The book is marred by some minor historical inaccuracies, which fortunately don't disturb the underlying narrative about the city's ambivalent character and charm. For example, one error is claiming that Franz II became emperor of Austria first in 1806, whereas in fact it was in 1804. I found chapters on the diverse fate of the many Viennese who had to endure exile to be particularly interesting.
The first half of this book provided quite a good overview of the history of Vienna—lots of info that will help with the course I'll be teaching on Vienna Study Abroad. On the other hand, my perception is that the second half of the book suddenly got quite a bit more detailed in discussing the 20th century (not my primary interest).
It was a pretty dense book, and hard to follow the who's who at times, but it was an easier book to read than I expected. It gave a really good sense of the city and its culture. It was written in the 80's so I'm interested to learn what's changed since then. But overall, it was worth reading in preparation for my upcoming trip.
A good history of Vienna up until 1988. I thought it gave a good impression of the complex Viennese pchyie. Lots of name dropping that I just had to skip over because I couln't keep them all straight