If there’s one message The Dark Ages reinforces repeatedly, in the patient and exhaustive way it chronicles nearly every significant battle, warlord, emperor, and tribe in Western Europe and Byzantium in the period between 476 A.D. to 918, it’s that nature abhors a vacuum.
When the seat of power in Rome moved eastward to Constantinople the, peace. control and stability of Imperial Roman Europe went with it. What ensued were endless migrations of Goths, Teutons, Franks, Slavs, Vandals, Magyars, Bulgars, Danes, Norwegians and the like. All of them attacking each other, conquering, being conquered, then conquering and being conquered again. It was unstable and chaotic, bloody, sadistic, and savage. But it also came to be, eventually, the foundation of Europe as we would come to know it. In so many ways the simple, sheer, often brutal, atavistic aspects of primal human nature are on full display here. It shows you what life can look like without a stable, civilizing hand. The restlessness, rapacity, fear, greed, stupidity, cowardice and ambition of the peoples of the time are tragic. And yet it’s clear that everyone is subject to forces beyond their control, swept up by circumstances and the tide of history. The hard work of binding a large number of people to abstract ideas that are in the best interest, finally, of everyone is a bloody business full or death.
The lack of detailed, recorded history, the absence of any kind of philosophical, scientific or artistic advances is what makes this age dark. Very little literature survives. The fragile things in life were often ground under the heel of hunger and the need to carve out a secure and ever-expanding place in the world, no matter how long it might be meant to last. Sometimes the book will casually mention how a king or prince slaughtered a city of 30,000 people for reasons of ambition or revenge while completely neglecting the human cost, as though these people were simple numbers, part of an historical record that sees no need to feature them as real. And yet the suffering, on the most basic human level, must have been immense.
This book was written in the nineteenth century and is unencumbered by the modern-day historians need to appear overly objective and even-handed. Oman is liberal in his use of adjectives. He’s not afraid to call a particular king a libertine, or dissolute, or simply stupid, or dull. This brings a refreshing humanity to the proceedings that makes the almost mundane recording of events easier to bear. Still, it’s not an easy read. There is just so much that is covered, very little of it truly comes to life. But it is a useful overview to an interesting time.