From award-winning writer Edward Wilson-Lee, this is a thrilling true historical detective story set in sixteenth-century Portugal.
A History of Water follows the interconnected lives of two men across the Renaissance globe. One of them – an aficionado of mermen and Ethiopian culture, an art collector, historian and expert on water-music – returns home from witnessing the birth of the modern age to die in a mysterious incident, apparently the victim of a grisly and curious murder. The other – a ruffian, vagabond and braggart, chased across the globe from Mozambique to Japan – ends up as the national poet of Portugal.
The stories of Damião de Góis and Luís de Camões capture the extraordinary wonders that awaited Europeans on their arrival in India and China, the challenges these marvels presented to longstanding beliefs, and the vast conspiracy to silence the questions these posed about the nature of history and of human life.
O título original — "A History of Water" — não faz muito sentido, porque não explicando do que trata, também não aproxima o leitor do sentimento geral da obra. Ainda que se possa dizer que a obra se foca em dois viajantes — Luís de Camões (1524 - 1580) e Damião de Góis (1502-1574) — da era dourada das descobertas marítimas portuguesas. Mas o sentimento é claramente melhor captado pelo título português — "A Torre dos Segredos" —, que não só evoca o relato das particularidades das vidas desses viajantes, mas denota antes a presença central da Torre do Tombo, a torre onde, desde 1378, a história de Portugal foi sendo escrita.
Acho incrível como um autor estrangeiro consegue entusiasmar-nos com a nossa própria História!
Numa escrita muito apelativa, que se lê como um romance, Edward Wilson-Lee pinta um retrato do Portugal global, que trouxe outros mundos à Europa, através das vidas aventureiras de Damião de Góis e Luís de Camões.
Vê-se que o autor adorou pesquisar sobre a nossa História, revelando pormenores sobre a evolução das técnicas de arquivo na Torre do Tombo e a forma como os portugueses conseguiram estabelecer relações comerciais com povos tão distantes – por vezes, de forma ardilosa e pouco ética. Há muitos detalhes sobre as culturas do Oriente, como a indiana e a chinesa, mas a escrita nunca é fastidiosa. Gostei muto!
Opening in a mouldering archive of the Portuguese empire, this initially feints towards replaying Wilson-Lee's previous Catalogue Of Shipwrecked Books, its fascination with the difficulty of assembling information in an age before modern technology, and of organising or deriving meaning from it even now. That's at most a subplot in what follows, though the territory proves familiar in other ways: this is another book about the deep strangeness of Renaissance Europe's intellectual world, thrown into relief by its blundering and/or devious forays into the rest of the world. But where Columbus went west, the Portuguese headed south and east, into an Africa and Asia already involved in their own complex networks of trade, enmity and imperialism. You know how the new Shogun adaptation has been at pains to round out the Japanese characters, make sure they're not just bit players in the English hero's journey, but has been content to leave the Portuguese characters as one-dimensional villains*? Well, turns out that was fairly accurate, except it didn't fully convey the sitcom side of a perfidious mercantile-imperial power whose schemes, 60% of the time, work every time.
If A History Of Water has a failing, it's that the evil side of the equation is left a little vague. We learn about the playbook whereby a trading post would be established, fortified, then used to subjugate the surrounding area - but never, for instance, whether there was a literal playbook, or how else the doctrine might have been propagated. Instead we follow two characters who, not least through their haplessness, can feel more sympathetic. Luis de Camoes was part of the colonial apparatus, though largely because he'd already got in too much trouble at home to do anything else. No matter how much he may at any point seem to be about to make his fortune, he will somehow contrive to end up maimed, gaoled and/or shipwrecked in short order. Somehow, he nonetheless contrives to end up writing Portugal's national epic, the Lusiads. This is probably no more of an outrageous tissue of lies than anyone else's national epic, but Camoes was unfortunate enough to be writing about events closer to the present, where there's more extensive documentation proving the discrepancies. Meanwhile, the scholar Damiao de Gois is attempting to stick up for the great humanist project of tolerance and intellectual enquiry at precisely the point when that's becoming a serious liability. At one stage he's part of a secret back-channel attempt to calm down the Reformation; it probably never had a chance anyway, but reading this it's hard not to wonder if it might have maybe just pulled through without the involvement of this bumptious clown. Still, at least his exasperated mentor Erasmus could go to his grave never knowing quite how badly things had gone, and convinced that even though the issue was becoming increasingly polarised and vehement, any attempt at compromise attacked from both sides, it was sure to calm down soon enough. Which, great mind though he undoubtedly was, may not have been his best prediction.
The modern parallels are obvious, and part of what I love about Wilson-Lee is that he knows that, doesn't feel obliged to put in some godawful trendy vicar pointer to the topical significance. See also the more general issue, where an age of increasing globalisation and cosmopolitanism leads to a reaction, an upsurge of zealotry, nationalism, suspicion of the foreign and even of the easygoing or just insufficiently furious. And not just in Europe, either; through the Middle East and Asia, there's the same sense of cultures extending feelers, making contact - and then withdrawing into themselves in shock. Frequently this involves a rewriting of history, whether it be China's memory holing of Zheng He's explorations, or Camoes rewriting the arrival of Portuguese voyagers in heathen temples so that instead of doing obeisance to what they initially saw as Mary by another name, they instead resist the apparent similarities as a devilish snare. And having finally found the Christian lands beyond Muslim territories for which Europe had been longing since the Crusaders dreamed of reinforcements from Prester John, the increasing tension between different sects back home meant they were no longer acceptable allies due to doctrinal differences; there's some particularly heartbreaking treatment of Abyssinian envoys whose genuine keenness to build bridges wasn't enough to overcome the underlying otherness - though, importantly, at this point that othering is still grounded much more in confessional than racial terms. Wilson-Lee is excellent at dodging the pitfalls where, even as Western history belatedly tries to decentre its own perspective, often it only ends up flipping the same narrative rather than fundamentally reconsidering it, noble explorers swapped for greedy brutes, but still swarming out into a world that was fundamentally just chilling until the white guys turned up. In reality, of course, Africa and especially Asia had their expansionist empires too, and Islam, just like Christianity, was always happy to expand in tandem with commerce. Various European powers were jockeying to be seen as heirs to Rome, but so were Russia and Turkey (the latter invigorated after intra-European bickering over the spice trade served to accelerate the shift in power from Mamluks to Ottomans, which of course then serves to create a whole new set of problems for European powers). Not that it's just about power in the obvious sense; as well as the kingdoms and empires Europeans were encountering, there were attitudes towards sex and food that unsettled what Christendom had assumed to be just how things naturally were, arts they couldn't understand or replicate, histories stretching back before the believed creation of the Earth (which I hadn't known had been calculated so precisely before Ussher that Russia used it for dating - but while nations and denominations in Europe varied by a century here and there, it was as nothing compared to the vast eras of Indian cosmology). Even the boundaries of humanity were sometimes set elsewhere (which pays off what had seemed like a gentle comic subplot about Damiao's fascination with mermen - although given some of the odd hybrids to be found in mediaeval bestiaries, this did leave me wanting a whole further book about precisely which legendary beasts Europe was prepared to countenance, and when that changed for each).
Gradually, then, it becomes clear why we've been following these two men in particular. Camoes shamelessly fiddles the facts to write the rah rah Eurocentric Lusiads, and while his inherent ability to fuck it all up means he doesn't see any benefit from it while alive, he gets to be remembered as Portugal's national poet (albeit with some embarrassment once his letters come to light and reveal what a rackety incel arse** he could be). Damiao, meanwhile, wilfully oblivious to the changing tenor of the times, has been writing a history which is obviously not understanding the assignment, and gets him denounced and quite possibly killed, but which still suggests the possible alternate vision of the world that Wilson-Lee's title promises, one that flows rather than being confined to its carefully fenced and separated areas. Something he attempts to reconstruct here, just to show how it can be done, even from the very specific and apparently trad starting point of two European traveller-writers.
*If I'd known how much this book covered the period and events feeding into Shogun, I would at least have waited until I'd finished the series before beginning to read it; it's from a different angle, certainly, but among other things it works as an oblique prequel, its direction as unexpected as The Phantom Menace, just much better. **Not that there weren't already hints. I love that even in his own epic, his author stand-in is the one sailor who, upon reaching the island of lusty nymphs, still has to wheedle to get some.
Una maravillosa obra de historia del siglo XVI, a través de dos personajes singulares. El primero es Damiao de Gois, el archivero mayor del Archivo Nacional de Portugal (Torre do Tombo), una persona abierta a todas las culturas y conocimientos, lo que le crea demasiados enemigos a lo largo de su vida para terminar bastante mal por culpa de la Inquisición. El otro personaje es el gran poeta nacional de Portugal Luis de Camoes, gloria de la letras europeas, un aventurero bastante atrabiliario y polémico con una vida bastante oscura y ajetreada, que escribió un gran poema épico sobre la exploración del Océano Indico por Vasco de Gama: Los Lusiadas.
La propuesta final de Edward Wilson-Lee es contraponer las ideas de apertura mental a los nuevos mundos que representaría De Gois al relato épico de conquista y civilización eurocéntrica de Luis de Camoes en Los Lusiadas. En el siglo XVI se tomó decididamente la visión imperialista, echando mano del cristianismo o de la filosofía griega, por primera vez, dado que hasta los descubrimientos portugueses no había necesidad. Este debate es el tema de los últimos capítulos del libro. En resumen, otra genial obra de divulgación de los grandes temas de la historia gracias a Wilson-Lee.
Disavventure della virtù Si tratta di un saggio interessante e noioso, il che spiega il voto medio. E’ interessante perché racconta il XVI secolo da una prospettiva per me inconsueta, non centrata sull’Italia o la Germania per motivi artistici o religiosi/politici, ma dal punto di vista delle esplorazioni portoghesi. Ho spigolato molte informazioni curiose, per esempio come Padova e Bologna fossero università dove i docenti non potevano essere della città , per preservare il carattere cosmopolita dell’istituzione e i cittadini non erano graditi nemmeno come studenti 😊, la qual cosa mi fa ridere molto, dato il livello di colonizzazione delle università italiane, impermeabili ai docenti stranieri e anche a quelli esterni al campo di forze dominante. Ai tempi, i docenti erano cismontani e soprattutto ultramontani: tedeschi, polacchi, ungheresi. I due protagonisti sono figure diverse: il primo, un vero intellettuale, discepola di Erasmo da Rotterdam, mercante d’arte per la corona portoghese, diplomatico che tentò di comporre la frattura fra cattolici e protestanti, pensatore troppo libero e innocente per passarla liscia. Il secondo, avventuriero, al termine di una vita non trasparente passa alla storia scrivendo I Lusiadi, opera epica nazionale portoghese. Quello che accomuna i due personaggi è l’aver attraversato l’oceano e viaggiato per le colonie portoghesi in India, Goa, Macao, Malacca. L’autore racconta i sotterfugi usati dai Portoghesi per infiltrarsi nei nuovi paesi scopo sfruttamento – ma la Compagnia delle Indie (capitali inglesi) non credo sia stata più gentile. Penso che il libro possa essere molto godibile per lettori con una cultura storica dell’epoca migliore della mia.
I think every nation has a classic that is ruthlessly inflicted upon school children. In Portugal it is Os Luisades an epic poem celebrating Portugal and its age of discoveries. On Sunday my Portuguese mother forced me to set aside more pleasurable activities and go to Portuguese classes where a life long hatred of Os Luisades was born, and of Camoes, national treasure that both are (like Ronaldo but less controversial).
Edward Wilson Lee contrasts the myth making of Camoes, with the nuanced intellectual curiosity of Damião de Góis, chief archivist of the King, the Messi in this story. The former was a gifted rascal, who never missed a chance for shameless self promotion. The latter was a relentlessly curious man who tried to capture what really happened. Camoes has been celebrated down the centuries while Damiao languishes in obscurity and apparently was murdered. It is here at the very latest that my tortured Ronaldo Messi analogy dies.
the book struggles for coherence and like many historical books the blurb is hyped stretch too far but luckily the content although less melodramatic is a great account of European forays into other countries at the start of the modern age and the nature of myth making.
Duas visões do mundo que ainda hoje se mantêm, dois portugueses que as acompanham e promovem. Sob o signo dos arquivos estatais enquanto memória oficial, abrindo ou fechando o acesso aos seus documentos como forma de corroboração dessa história oficial. Um livro definitivamente a ler
A History of Water. By Edward Wilson-Lee. William Collins; 352 pages; £25 “MANY HISTORIANS begin their chronicles by praising history, but these praises always sell the matter short,” wrote Damião de Góis, a Portuguese royal archivist, in his account of the reign of Manuel I, published in 1566-7. “History is infinite,” de Góis reckoned, “and cannot be confined within any limits.” It is an unusual manifesto for a chronicle, one of history’s drier literary forms. But to fulfil his expansive vision of his task, de Góis ranged freely across everything from the history of the Shia faith to the scholarship of Queen Mother Eleni of Abyssinia. Edward Wilson-Lee applauds such generous curiosity; in some ways he seeks to replicate it. His new book, “A History of Water”, is in part an exploration of de Góis’s life and thought, but it is also an argument for globalisation, for openness and undogmatic ideas about the world. De Góis was well-travelled. As a young man in the 1520s he worked in the great mercantile city of Antwerp; later he went on diplomatic trips to Denmark, Poland, Prussia and Russia. His adventures exposed him to the intellectual ferment of the era. He lived with Erasmus in Freiburg, working as the elderly philosopher’s secretary. He dined with Martin Luther in Wittenberg. Ignatius Loyola, the founder of the Jesuits, visited de Góis in Padua. He travelled farther still in his reading and writing. Portugal had initiated the age of exploration and was, in this period, the primary conduit—for goods, information and, less happily, people—between Europe and the rest of the globe. The royal archive in the Torre do Tombo, the Tower of Records, was a central clearing-house for Europe’s awareness of the world beyond. De Góis, always drawn to marginal voices and ideas, had access to it all. In the Tower of Records he contemplated “the chaotic fullness of the world”. Even in the 16th century, globalisation was provoking a reaction. Luther grumbled that “foreign trade…would not be permitted if we had proper government and princes”. When de Góis ate with him, he was served hazelnuts and apples: local produce free from ornament, ostentation and otherness. In this and other subtle ways, the book addresses the wider intellectual debates of the Reformation and of humanist and Renaissance thought. Mr Wilson-Lee interleaves the life of de Góis with that of his contemporary, Luis de Camões, the author of “The Lusiads”, an epic poem celebrating Portugal’s voyages of discovery. Often in prison and always in penury, de Camões led a violent, disreputable existence. He spent 17 years in exile in far-flung Portuguese trading posts in Goa, Macau, Mozambique and elsewhere. While de Camões may have briefly worked under de Góis, Mr Wilson-Lee is less interested in how their lives intersected than how they embodied Europe’s different responses to its discoveries. “A History of Water” artfully juxtaposes the confined spaces inhabited by its subjects—de Góis in his tower and de Camões in his various prisons—with the period’s great intellectual investigations. Where de Góis widened his horizons to let more of the world in, de Camões took his narrowness with him: he framed Portugal’s voyaging as a reclaiming of a classical destiny and a triumph over pagan disorder. The Inquisition arrested de Góis in 1571, aged almost 70, as his Catholicism was too diluted for their liking. It imprisoned him for 19 months, interrogating him throughout. “A History of Water” explores European bafflement and fear at new ideas, and the book itself presents as a puzzle within a puzzle. It opens with the accidental death—or perhaps murder—of de Góis in January 1574, soon after the Inquisition released him. Sources described him as burnt to death, or strangled; Mr Wilson-Lee offers his own provocative account. The author ponders the questions posed by a moment in history when societies “might have become global”—that is, might have embraced pluralism, as de Góis did—“but didn’t”. He resists offering simplistic answers as to why Europe chose its imperial course, yet there are many things to wonder at in the book’s pages, as well as some things to despair of. The journey is enthralling throughout—as all explorations should be. ■
É sempre curioso ler sobre a nossa história sob um olhar exterior, que nos dá diferentes visões sobre os acontecimentos e personalidades. Se bem que seria redutor ver este livro apenas na perspetiva portuguesa. Antes, o foco em duas personalidades da nossa história é um ponto de partida para uma análise de um momento chave na história global, que é simultaneamente o tempo da origem do colonialismo europeu, das raízes do iluminismo, e das guerras religiosas e políticas que viriam a moldar o continente, e o mundo.
Wilson-Lee traça uma necessariamente curta biografia de duas figuras maiores do Portugal da era dos descobrimentos: Camões e Damião de Góis. Mas são biografias que só fazem sentido como parte de algo maior, demonstrativas das forças que estavam a moldar o mundo à época.
Apesar do seu peso cultural, Camões é o personagem secundário neste livro. O autor socorre-se dele para nos levar a pensar sobre a expansão europeia e as raízes do colonialismo em África e na Ásia. As aventuras e desventuras do poeta pelintra, sempre envolvido em problemas com a lei, e que entre fugas, empregos e degredos se vê forçado a passar por algumas das sete partidas do mundo são, essencialmente, o enquadramento (ou melhor, a personificação) do choque de culturas entre os europeus e os asiáticos que se iniciou na época dos descobrimentos. Wilson-Lee é crítico, e observa que os nossos descobrimentos são um drama para os descobertos, que vêm as suas ordens políticas e sociais alteradas pelo embate com aventureiros europeus que procuravam acima de tudo enriquecimento pessoal, socorrendo-se de todos os meios para o fazer, desde os legais e respeitoso ao controle territorial, invadindo e conquistando, ao controle de pensamento através da expansão da religião cristã. Note-se que esta posição assenta numa visão da complexidade, quer das culturas e países, quer das relações culturais e económicas no mundo globalizado quinhentista, onde os portugueses apenas vieram, com a tecnologia naval, acrescentar novas rotas de trocas comerciais, reforçando-as face às antigas rotas com a força das armas.
A personalidade de Camões, um eterno perdedor, que só após a sua morte viu reconhecido o seu génio, surge aqui como uma personificação dos paradoxos dos Descobrimentos, tanto uma época de descobertas de novas terras e culturas, como de aventureirismo ganancioso. E, também, na forma como estes acontecimentos foram mitificados para criar a ideia de uma superioridade cultural europeia, que justificava o domínio de povos e territórios. Wilson-Lee vê os Lusíadas nessas perspetiva, um poema que mitifica os feitos portugueses à luz da tradiçáo da antiguidade clássica, enquanto rejeita a influência das culturas com que os portugueses contactaram.
Wilson-Lee olha com muito mais detalhe para a personalidade de Damião de Góis. Sente-se um académico dos dias de hoje, a admirar a vida de um congénere seu do passado. A vida do humanista, com muito menos peripécias do que a de Camões, mas nem por isso menos viajada, é vista pela lupa do autor como uma forma de nos falar das forças intelectuais que estavam a moldar a Europa da época. Por um lado, o progressismo religioso da Reforma, e por outro, o progressivo espartilho da contra-reforma. No meio, esmagado entre estes dois campos, visões moderadas de equilíbrio e procura de uma maior liberdade intelectual, uma visão amarga face ao progressivo emergir dos radicalismos religiosos (que, por cá, nos deixaram o legado obscurantista da inquisição, e na europa, as guerras e perseguições religiosas).
Desconhecia o legado deste humanista português, e ao ler este livro, percebe-se o quão próximo Damião de Góis esteve de ser um dos grandes nomes da cultura europeia. Viajou, como académico e diplomata, por toda a Europa, foi discípulo de Erasmus, privou com a nata intelectual europeia da época, e deixou um legado bibliográfico muito vasto, para além das crónicas do reino, olhando para vários aspetos culturais europeus e africanos.
No entanto, a visão é amarga, Damião de Góis personifica a esperança num mundo intelectualmente mais aberto, que acabará por ser esmagado pelas forças religiosas e políticas. É um símbolo de urbanidade, de uma ideia de unidade cultural europeia que ainda hoje, apesar dos esforços da integração europeia, teima em não persistir.
Camões e Damião de Góis personificam dois aspetos trágicos da história global. Um, o dealbar dos colonialismos, da expansão e exploração de outros povos e terras, do nascente imperialismo. Outro, o difícil nascer do iluminismo, do sobrepor o conhecimento científico aos mitos religiosos, da defesa da liberdade intelectual e do respeito entre culturas, algo que hoje, apesar de imperfeito, é um dos nossos pilares civilizacionais. Nestas duas personagens portuguesas, Wilson-Lee encontra símbolos das forças que modelaram a história, e nos legaram o mundo de hoje.
Comparable aux livres de David Grann mais avec une approche plus académique. Edward Wilson-Lee nous conte l'histoire de Luis Vaz de Camoès et Damião de Góis, deux monuments portugais du 16e siècle qui vécurent parallèlement aux événements qui ont transformé l'Europe de la Renaissance.
C'est un récit passionnant qui couvre colonialisme, myth et identité des peuples, religion et spiritualité, découvertes et commerce. Le name-dropping des rock stars du 16e siècle qu'ont rencontré les deux personnages du livre est également assez remarquable.
Léger reproche: malgré une belle plume et de nombreuses références littéraires, EWL manque de maintenir un rythme narratif constant.
A fascinating account of 2 important historical Portuguese characters of whom I knew absolutely nothing before this. Wilson-Lee, as well as introducing us to the archivist Damaio and adventurer/poet Camoes not only shields a light on an oft overlooked period of history where, briefly, Portugal was the preeminent Western European global trading/colonial power, but also unpicks some of the mindset that underpinned the imperial/colonial project. However, his self-confessed "wilfully idiosyncratic prose" style made this 2 perspective narrative somewhat confusing - only resolving after the death of both the main protagonists, and the revelation of a Salieri-like nemesis of one of the two.
I was going to Portugal and I realised I needed some knowledge. For me, this was one of those weird books I would have never picked up because I've never heard of Damião de Góis or Luís Vaz de Camões. Apparently, Os Lusíadas, or the Song of the Portuguese, is a quite famous epic poem written by Camões. This book is partly his biography and partly a biography of his contemporary Damião. Because of this double biography style, the book weaves through time, ideas, and (re)discoveries. I love this.
Damião meets the most interesting figures, Erasmus being one of them and (fatally so) Simão Rodriguez being another one. Simão was first companion of Ignatius de Loyola, founder of the Jesuits. And so we see how the new discoveries caused wonder in same and fear in others. How fear turned into new ideas and how new ideas turned into more fear ending in murder.
Meanwhile, the younger Camões is often down on his luck and going from prison to prison. Finally send out to India, getting shipwrecked and back into prison again. But eventually saved because he is recognised as a great poet. It's a bit more obscure because not much seems to have been saved about his life. Some of his letters only relatively recently rediscovered.
Damião wrote what he thought was important to write for histories sake. Camões wrote an epic that rewrote history for the sake of the country.
Very interesting and well written tale of two well-travelled Portuguese men one Damiao de Gois becomes a devotee of Erasmus -- which always rather worries me solely because I found his writings deadly dull when I was at school but time perhaps has mellowed me -- and ends up in all sorts of trouble under the Portuguese Inquisition falling from a great height. The other Luiz Vaz de Camoes is a right old rogue and finds himself out in India and then Macau -- when he is holder of the exotically named title of Warden of the Goods of the Deceased -- though more often he is residing in a cell. Camoes post death comes to be recognised as the national poet of Portugal. The author's take on Camoes's verse and indeed poetry globally is interesting: 'Poetry is a way of lying to get closer to the truth, to what one really wants to say.' Their own journeys in the 16th century across different continents encompasses a fascinating period of history dealt with elan by the author. The only thing that causes me a problem is the title..A History of Water....just dull and not one that would attract me on the shelves. Indeed had not Chris at Daunt recommended it to me when I asked for one I would never have drunk from this sparkling heady mix at all.
It was Ok...ish, and why is that? Well, for starters, even if I am Latino, my background is Argentinian hence I know a bit, more than the usual Argentinian that is, about Brazil and Portuguese history, the Conquistadors, etc so naturally as soon as I found about this book, my interest was picked. That is, however, where everything started downhill until its very end.
From its very beginning, it is not clear what this book is about, Camões is a well known Portuguese writer but I never heard of de Góis before, and honestly, knowing this much about this two lesser known people in the Spanish speaking world hasn't altered my life that much. That brings me back to my main complaint: what was Edward Wilson-Lee trying to achieve there? Both subject are interest, yes, but there is truly no link between these two people's lives. Not really.
Some chapters drifted so hard into the unknown even the writer failed to take up the narration, and as a reader I struggled too, hence why it took me almost a whole month to finish it.
As I said at the beginning of this review, I didn't know what to make of this book, and I still don't.
Why do the lives of two people in 16th century Portugal matter to us today? In this particular case, it's because one of them - Damiao de Gois - was a humanist with an encylopaedic mind whose "infinite polyphonic vision of history" tried to bring together the stories of peoples, traditions, religions all across the then known world. And because the other, Luis de Camoes, a braggart, liar and recidivist jailbird who became Portugal's national poet, chose the monolithic and Eurocentric vision which has prevailed across the centuries. Which one would we want to emulate? It is always a joy to meet new historical figures. Edward Wilson-Lee presents detailed portraits of both of these men and we are as horrified by Damiao's persecution and imprisonment by the Inquisition at the end of his days (and the role of Simao Rodrigues, founder of the Portuguese chapter of the Jesuits, in his accusations) as we are amazed at Camoes' adventures and how he got away with it. I borrowed this book from the library but now I think I need my own copy!
O bom deste livro é colocar lado a lado dois portugueses quinhentistas, tão pouco conhecidos entre nós, embora muito elogiados e citados. Só não tenho a certeza de que Camões, que dependia da benevolência dos seus mecenas e da Inquisição, fosse epígono das «narrativas monolíticas de carácter nacional» (da contra-capa), o Velho do Restelo deixa-me em dúvida. O elogio do arquivo como «lugar de guarda e instrumento de poder» (p.23) e a ideia de a Torre do Tombo ser o primeiro repositório universal, em que «Talvez pela primeira vez na história , o remexer de papéis determinava a forma do mundo» (p.23) é estimulante e merece discussão. Há alguns problemas, como o de se escrever que Vasco da Gama chegou à Índia cem anos antes de Camões (p.92) que desqualificam o livro e que não sei se se devem ao autor se ao tradutor. Merecia uma revisão científica, tal como a Gradiva faz, que afinal a história também é uma ciência. E já nem falo do (des)acordo do Egito e dos egípcios
um grande livro a terminar o ano. através das biografias de dois portugueses célebres (damião de góis e luís de camões) wilson-lee mostra-nos as duas grandes visões antagónicas que ocupavam e dividiam a europa do séc. xvi. ambos percorreram o mundo à sua maneira, e ambos puderam observar muitas e diversas etnias, culturas e religiões. porém o poeta, no seu famoso poema épico, opta por uma visão clássica da descoberta do desconhecido, nele espelhando todo o monolitismo europeu, ao passo que góis se confessa maravilhado pelas diferenças encontradas, celebrando nos seus escritos a multiplicidade com que os povos que conheceu encaravam os usos e costumes, a vida animal e a alimentação, o sexo e as crenças - e pagando o mais elevado preço por isso. quase meio milénio depois, constata-se que aquele antagonismo pouco ou nada evoluiu.
Plenty of research and reference built the basis of this book, and it is easy and enjoyable to read. I was completely ignorant of the main drift of this story, but it's clear that this is by no means the first book on the topic. It really is a fascinating tale (tales, in fact, and there are many threads within which demand pulling...) While obviously trustworthy and detailed accounts from 16th Century Portugal (etc.) are not very plentiful, and without heading down the Hilary Mantel path of fleshing out details with an informed imagination, I can't help wishing for a slightly more meaty text - longer, deeper, with more character development and perhaps clearer thematic shaping. But maybe that's just my impression.
History is not often so beautifully written. At times, this book veers towards the novel, at times to poetry. Ultimately, though, it's a thesis, pitting the world-embracing, curious, compassionate image of history constructed by man-of-letters Damiao de Gois against the dissembling, jingoistic, exploitative but romantically alluring attitude struck by pirate-poet Luis Vaz de Camoes.
Spoiler alert, Camoes' view of the world won, at least temporarily. But while the stain of colonialist bile can be seen all over the world Wilson-Lee portrays here, it's refreshing to get a close up view of something else, half hidden in the history: the conduct of people like Damiao who challenged the prevailing fanaticism of their age and tried to promote understanding.
Various interruptions resulted in my taking a long time to finish the wonderful book.
I had never heard of Comoes or Damiao de Gois and found them both to be fascinating men in a time of great change and great drama.
They both existed in the 16th century when Europeans, in particular Portuguese, were travelling the world to colonise, trade with and Christianise other countries and while some Europeans were questioning Christian orthodoxy and others were divining ways to ensure a strict orthodoxy through the Inquisition.
Wilson-Lee tells the story of these two men and explores the way different cultural values can cause both fear and understanding and the way that humans and time can cancel, subvert and smudge truth.
Eu que aprendi a ler português com os Lusíadas, achei chocantemente interessante e estranhamente o oposto do que ainda nos ensinam nos dias de hoje nas aulas de português.... Desmistifica o heroísmo português e europeu de Camões e a versão dele, da história do "mais" real encontro com outros povos. Mas depois temos o Damião de Góis a redimir-nos... ☺️ E a ser influente até ao dia de hoje. Literalmente, enquanto o "West" se pergunta pq é q o Brasil e a Africa do Sul e a Índia não colaboram connosco (EU e EUA) contra o Putin - leiam este livro e percebem. Estão justificadamente "queimados" com os europeus... Super interessante. Mas a história é sempre a reinvenção do passado, por isso... ?
Interesting idea, two famous travellers and men of culture of the Portuguese Renaissance. Don;t quite understand how Wilson-Lee did it - a lot of painstaking work reading old Portuguese biographies, but Wilson-Lee's Portuguese is so painfully poor... I mean he thinks the plural of 'padrao' is 'padraos', and uses the word 'isla' for 'ilha'!!! Also a bit confused by the constant switching between the two personages, and found the title irritating --'A History of Water', what a wishy-washy meaningless title! But the writing is rich and suggestive, which I guess is how it sells... along with the Cambridge cache.
I’m amazed at the effect this book has had on me. I’m not a fast reader, slower even with works of non-fiction, but this must have been a personal speed record - I could not put this book down.
The story telling is fluid and history unfolds before the reader’s eyes. I find it specially remarkable how the author has managed to gather vivid descriptions of a world lost, making me feel like I could envision the characters clearly in my mind’s eye. He made me feel like I met them, knew their aspirations and motivations, all the while an enthralling narrative is presented.
3,5 ⭐️ for this unique history about two Portuguese globetrotters during the Renaissance period. It’s full of fascinating facts and stories that are odd but sometimes very similar to contemporary ones. Though I liked it, my problem with the book is twofold. 1. The title (the main reason for buying this book) is very misleading (and that’s an understatement). OK, there’s a lot of sea traveling, even mermen. But the Portuguese title (though duller) is better: The poet and the archivist. 2. It’s supposed to be a murder mystery. The author tries hard but fails to keep the suspense up. Giving every chapter a farfetched cliffhanger doesn’t make it a murder mystery.
Um dos critérios que tenho para avaliar um livro é quanto é que eu aprendi? No caso da leitura da Torre dos Segredos aprendi muito! O livro situa-nos em pleno séc. XVI, em Portugal e não só. Pegando nas personagens de Damião de Góis e Luís de Camões, Wilson-Lee leva-nos a conhecer as biografias destas duas personagens da História de Portugal. Diretamente, no texto ou através das completíssimas cerca de 50 páginas de notas, com bibliografia para suportar ou acrescentar a informação da narrativa. Recomendo!
A detailed account of European reactions to the wider world in the 16th century. I'll admit I am rather ignorant of Portuguese history of the period, it always seems overshadowed by events is Spain and the German speaking counties, so it was especially interesting to get a fleshed out look at events that I am only loosely aware of. This is probably not the lightest of history books, and the threads sometimes seem to only hang loosely together, but it is still a solid look at a fascinating pair of characters.
Edward Wilson-Lee consegue, com detalhe e mestria, aceder ao mundo obscuro biográfico de Damião de Góis e de Camões, trazendo ao leitor contemporâneo luz sobre aspetos até então desconhecidos, interligando-os e dando a possibilidade de nos ajudar a compreender o labirinto que os rodeia, bem como a época multicultural e, por isso mesmo, polifónica em que viveram estes autores portugueses. E se a tudo isto juntarmos o facto de o autor não ser português e de ter trabalhado durante a pandemia, ficamos com ideia do génio e da persistência no "honesto estudo" (como dizia Camões) do autor!
An absolutely fascinating and hypnotic tale, weaving you into the story from the very start.
I was absolutely engrossed by this book, which superbly written with great descriptive prose, and hugely enlightening, using the changing fortunes of its two main characters as the historical reference for changing world views.