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The General
The book John Kelly reads every time he gets a promotion to remind him of ‘the perils of hubris, the pitfalls of patriotism and duty unaccompanied by critical thinking’
The most vivid, moving – and devastating – word-portrait of a World War One British commander ever written, here re-introduced by Max Hastings.
C.S. Forester’s 1936 masterpiece follows Lt General Herbert Curzon, who fumbled a fortuitous early step on the path to glory in the Boer War. 1914 finds him an honourable, decent, brave and wholly unimaginative colonel. Survival through the early slaughters in which so many fellow-officers perished then brings him rapid promotion. By 1916, he is a general in command of 100,000 British soldiers, whom he leads through the horrors of the Somme and Passchendaele, a position for which he is entirely unsuited and intellectually unprepared.
Wonderfully human with Forester’s droll relish for human folly on full display, this is the story of a man of his time who is anything but wicked, yet presides over appalling sacrifice and tragedy. In his awkwardness and his marriage to a Duke’s unlovely, unhappy daughter, Curzon embodies Forester’s full powers as a storyteller. His half-hero is patriotic, diligent, even courageous, driven by his sense of duty and refusal to yield to difficulties. But also powerfully damned is the same spirit which caused a hundred real-life British generals to serve as high priests at the bloodiest human sacrifice in the nation’s history. A masterful and insightful study about the perils of hubris and unquestioning duty in leadership, The General is a fable for our times.
The most vivid, moving – and devastating – word-portrait of a World War One British commander ever written, here re-introduced by Max Hastings.
C.S. Forester’s 1936 masterpiece follows Lt General Herbert Curzon, who fumbled a fortuitous early step on the path to glory in the Boer War. 1914 finds him an honourable, decent, brave and wholly unimaginative colonel. Survival through the early slaughters in which so many fellow-officers perished then brings him rapid promotion. By 1916, he is a general in command of 100,000 British soldiers, whom he leads through the horrors of the Somme and Passchendaele, a position for which he is entirely unsuited and intellectually unprepared.
Wonderfully human with Forester’s droll relish for human folly on full display, this is the story of a man of his time who is anything but wicked, yet presides over appalling sacrifice and tragedy. In his awkwardness and his marriage to a Duke’s unlovely, unhappy daughter, Curzon embodies Forester’s full powers as a storyteller. His half-hero is patriotic, diligent, even courageous, driven by his sense of duty and refusal to yield to difficulties. But also powerfully damned is the same spirit which caused a hundred real-life British generals to serve as high priests at the bloodiest human sacrifice in the nation’s history. A masterful and insightful study about the perils of hubris and unquestioning duty in leadership, The General is a fable for our times.
234 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published January 1, 1936
217 people are currently reading
1312 people want to read
About the author
C.S. Forester
236 books979 followersCecil Scott Forester was the pen name of Cecil Louis Troughton Smith, an English novelist who rose to fame with tales of adventure and military crusades. His most notable works were the 11-book Horatio Hornblower series, about naval warfare during the Napoleonic era, and The African Queen (1935; filmed in 1951 by John Huston). His novels A Ship of the Line and Flying Colours were jointly awarded the 1938 James Tait Black Memorial Prize for fiction.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 100 reviews
January 23, 2015
Forester created quite a sympathetic character in The General. Can you sympathize with someone who gets a lot of people killed?
Herbert Curzon is a Major in the British army when WWI breaks out. He is very average. I mean, there's nothing special about him to the point that it makes him special. You want him to succeed, because jesus christ, get it together man! However, that may never happen, because as sad as it sounds, the fact of the matter is, Curzon is unaware he's surpassed his sell-by date.
I've enjoyed reading Forester's work. The African Queen was great and his Hornblower series is good Britishy fun. An element of that enjoyment stems from the man writing historical fiction in a way that brought you there, wherever "there" is.
In this case, "there" was a time and place when a new kind of warfare met the old school. Going into WWI, Curzon ends up in a calvary regiment. Calvary, as in horses. Most of you knew that. But did you also know that WWI was the stage that really introduced the machine gun on a grand scale upon the battlefield? Do you see what I'm getting at here? I'm talking about men on horses charging into machine gun fire. That shit happened.
By the death of superiors and an advantageous marriage, Curzon advances through the ranks until he becomes a General with a massive army. Someone had to do the job and Curzon was at the right place at the right time. The problem is, he's not a brilliant military mind. He believes that what once worked should continue to work, and when it isn't working, he doesn't understand why. To his credit, he is brave. Some would also say he is stupid. I prefer to call such as a person uninformed, uncreative or stuck in his ways. Curzon's stubbornness might annoy some, but I couldn't help but feel for him. There's something inherently sad about a "great man" who's past it.
Unfortunately there were a lot of real life Curzons in WWI and their ignorance got a lot of men killed. I think, above all else, that may have been Forester's real reason for writing The General. This is a book filled with that typical, starchy British sort of the era, old soldiers in unfamiliar territory and unwilling to get with the times. These were the men in charge and it was a real problem, one the brass were reticent to admit. This book came out in 1937. Did Forester want to remind everyone of the past war as his country hurtled towards the next?
Herbert Curzon is a Major in the British army when WWI breaks out. He is very average. I mean, there's nothing special about him to the point that it makes him special. You want him to succeed, because jesus christ, get it together man! However, that may never happen, because as sad as it sounds, the fact of the matter is, Curzon is unaware he's surpassed his sell-by date.
I've enjoyed reading Forester's work. The African Queen was great and his Hornblower series is good Britishy fun. An element of that enjoyment stems from the man writing historical fiction in a way that brought you there, wherever "there" is.
In this case, "there" was a time and place when a new kind of warfare met the old school. Going into WWI, Curzon ends up in a calvary regiment. Calvary, as in horses. Most of you knew that. But did you also know that WWI was the stage that really introduced the machine gun on a grand scale upon the battlefield? Do you see what I'm getting at here? I'm talking about men on horses charging into machine gun fire. That shit happened.
By the death of superiors and an advantageous marriage, Curzon advances through the ranks until he becomes a General with a massive army. Someone had to do the job and Curzon was at the right place at the right time. The problem is, he's not a brilliant military mind. He believes that what once worked should continue to work, and when it isn't working, he doesn't understand why. To his credit, he is brave. Some would also say he is stupid. I prefer to call such as a person uninformed, uncreative or stuck in his ways. Curzon's stubbornness might annoy some, but I couldn't help but feel for him. There's something inherently sad about a "great man" who's past it.
Unfortunately there were a lot of real life Curzons in WWI and their ignorance got a lot of men killed. I think, above all else, that may have been Forester's real reason for writing The General. This is a book filled with that typical, starchy British sort of the era, old soldiers in unfamiliar territory and unwilling to get with the times. These were the men in charge and it was a real problem, one the brass were reticent to admit. This book came out in 1937. Did Forester want to remind everyone of the past war as his country hurtled towards the next?
February 16, 2013
If you’ve spent more than a little while in the military, you’ve probably met Forester’s protagonist, Herbert Curzon, at least once. Courageous, athletic, honorable and intensely loyal to the values and system that define his life, Curzon is also utterly, thoroughly and profoundly unimaginative, a knee-jerk reactionary, intellectually incurious and unable to learn from his subordinates, or even to conceive of the possibility that he could do so. After a brief and accidental brush with glory in the Boer War cements his reputation, he spends twelve years excelling as a garrison soldier – slowly climbing the ranks based on his ability to fit into regimental messes and inspect horses – before the crisis of the First World War catapults him into progressively higher leadership positions. As far as the British Army of 1914 is concerned, he is the perfect candidate on paper, and they cannot produce anyone better. Curzon’s values, expertise and leadership abilities enable him to, literally, “win the first battle of the next war” – and then lose every subsequent battle as conditions change in ways to which he is constitutionally unable to adapt.
The General is essentially a character sketch, and in episode after episode exemplifying the type of person that Curzon represents, Forester hits home again and again. Several historical individuals have been identified as the author’s inspiration in writing it, most notably Douglas Haig. Yet, to read it as a critique of Haig, or even as an attempt to understand the First World War general officers whose best intentions sent a generation to their senseless deaths, is to miss the wider applicability of Forrester’s message.
This wider message is a bitter indictment of the type of system that cultivated, encouraged and promoted men like Curzon and was ultimately unable to learn from the disasters that they wrought. It is a story that has been told again and again since it was written, and it could just as easily be the story of William Westmoreland, Tommy Franks, or a host of other military, corporate or governmental “organization men.” In each case, the qualities that allowed them to climb within a closed system by toeing the line and avoiding criticism enabled them to seriously endanger that system once it faced a new external challenge. The General is far more meaningful as a warning of the institutional dangers of conformity, risk-aversion and intellectual stagnation than as a book about World War One.
The General is essentially a character sketch, and in episode after episode exemplifying the type of person that Curzon represents, Forester hits home again and again. Several historical individuals have been identified as the author’s inspiration in writing it, most notably Douglas Haig. Yet, to read it as a critique of Haig, or even as an attempt to understand the First World War general officers whose best intentions sent a generation to their senseless deaths, is to miss the wider applicability of Forrester’s message.
This wider message is a bitter indictment of the type of system that cultivated, encouraged and promoted men like Curzon and was ultimately unable to learn from the disasters that they wrought. It is a story that has been told again and again since it was written, and it could just as easily be the story of William Westmoreland, Tommy Franks, or a host of other military, corporate or governmental “organization men.” In each case, the qualities that allowed them to climb within a closed system by toeing the line and avoiding criticism enabled them to seriously endanger that system once it faced a new external challenge. The General is far more meaningful as a warning of the institutional dangers of conformity, risk-aversion and intellectual stagnation than as a book about World War One.
January 16, 2023
Original posting, review December 2020
Added rating January 2023
4.5⭐
This book's something of a double departure for Forester. First, it's a story of the British army, about which he writes infrequently compared to his sea adventures. It follows the career of Herbert Curzon, the titular general, from the Boer War to WWI. Most of Forester's stories are set either earlier, such as the Hornblower books, or later (exceptions being The African Queen and Brown on Resolution). It's also one of his best books.
Essentially this is Forester's judgement on the meat grinder that was trench warfare. His hero, if that's the right word, is brave, loyal, honest and hard working. He's also unimaginative, snobbish, against innovation and largely uncritical of the tactics of himself or his superiors (until the very end). This, the author argues, was the formula which allowed officers to feed hundreds of thousands into the machine guns, again and again.
But Curzon's not the villain of the piece, more like one of the victims, of his society and it's fallacies. As usual, Forester is able to draw us into his story and characters by use of clean, economical prose (he tells his story in just over 300 pages). I read this as part of Delphi's online edition, The Collected Works of C.S. Forester, which I highly reccomend.
Added rating January 2023
4.5⭐
This book's something of a double departure for Forester. First, it's a story of the British army, about which he writes infrequently compared to his sea adventures. It follows the career of Herbert Curzon, the titular general, from the Boer War to WWI. Most of Forester's stories are set either earlier, such as the Hornblower books, or later (exceptions being The African Queen and Brown on Resolution). It's also one of his best books.
Essentially this is Forester's judgement on the meat grinder that was trench warfare. His hero, if that's the right word, is brave, loyal, honest and hard working. He's also unimaginative, snobbish, against innovation and largely uncritical of the tactics of himself or his superiors (until the very end). This, the author argues, was the formula which allowed officers to feed hundreds of thousands into the machine guns, again and again.
But Curzon's not the villain of the piece, more like one of the victims, of his society and it's fallacies. As usual, Forester is able to draw us into his story and characters by use of clean, economical prose (he tells his story in just over 300 pages). I read this as part of Delphi's online edition, The Collected Works of C.S. Forester, which I highly reccomend.
January 10, 2020
Seeing reviews re WWI, 'The General' too often comes to mind. One of those pieces of history that was aggravating while reading, and compulsive. Over the years, the author's message has remained strong. Have 'liked' multiple informative reviews.
July 24, 2016
An extremely well-written book, albeit a depressing one. It follows the story of a fictitious British general, Herbert Curzon, from the beginning of his career in the Boer War, through his rise in rank and position during WWI. His rise is very much by chance and over the bodies of his troops. It tells a dire story of WWI in a matter-of-fact way, very much like Forester's story of The Ship, which follows a British convoy during WWII. I have enjoyed a great deal of Forester's stories, especially his Hornblower series. He is versatile and tells interesting, entertaining, thoughtful stories. Well worth reading if you want a perspective of WWI, especially from the leadership perspective.
May 2, 2019
The phrase “Lions led by Donkeys” is the pithy description of the British Infantry during WWI. C.S. Forester tells the story of one such donkey. Herbert Curzon is a dutiful, efficient man living to a prevalent moral code to which he is fully confident he lives up to. He is also a mass murderer.
March 15, 2018
I’ve read this book three times since I was a new 2nd Lieutenant in the US Army, and there is always something new to be found to exemplify the seemingly endless struggle of the military professional against the military bureaucrat. But in this story, there is no true heroic example, just an immovable devotion to official orthodoxy. “The General” is one of those books that deserves a place on the shelf of every leader in uniform as a warning.
The Great War (WW I) is a historical trauma that seems best experienced through fiction or poetry. There is no other way to capture fully the pointlessness, the despair, and the outrageousness of events. At times, reading “The General” feels like you’ve stumbled into a Kurt Vonnegut novel with all its intentional absurdity. You don’t know whether to laugh or be angry at the ossified thinking and attitudes of the characters who, like their real world counterparts in 1914-18, condemned thousands to death and dismemberment on the fields of Ypres and the Somme.
I’ve always considered the character of Sir Herbert Curzon to be the embodiment of the “company man” produced by an antiquated personnel system - not dissimilar to some of the same problems our military suffers from today. Curzon advances through a combination of luck and a dogged devotion to official orthodoxy, often in the face of overwhelming evidence that such devotion is folly of the most disastrous sort for the men under his command.
This line sums it up: “Curzon did not tell himself that the present state of affairs must be the best possible because it was the present state of affairs, but that was a pointer to his line of thought. Innovations and charlatanry were indissolubly linked in his mind.”
The Great War (WW I) is a historical trauma that seems best experienced through fiction or poetry. There is no other way to capture fully the pointlessness, the despair, and the outrageousness of events. At times, reading “The General” feels like you’ve stumbled into a Kurt Vonnegut novel with all its intentional absurdity. You don’t know whether to laugh or be angry at the ossified thinking and attitudes of the characters who, like their real world counterparts in 1914-18, condemned thousands to death and dismemberment on the fields of Ypres and the Somme.
I’ve always considered the character of Sir Herbert Curzon to be the embodiment of the “company man” produced by an antiquated personnel system - not dissimilar to some of the same problems our military suffers from today. Curzon advances through a combination of luck and a dogged devotion to official orthodoxy, often in the face of overwhelming evidence that such devotion is folly of the most disastrous sort for the men under his command.
This line sums it up: “Curzon did not tell himself that the present state of affairs must be the best possible because it was the present state of affairs, but that was a pointer to his line of thought. Innovations and charlatanry were indissolubly linked in his mind.”
May 26, 2018
The General has achieved a recent notoriety as the book White House Chief of Staff (for now) General John Kelley reads after every promotion. And since I'm a long-time fan of Forester's Horatio Hornblower books, I decided to check it out. What we have is a lean, ironic, and acerbic picture of an exemplar of British military leadership during the First World War. Our protagonist, Curzon, is a cavalry officer of the old school: Red-faced, energetic, stiffly honorable, utterly unimaginative. Sent into line at the Battle of Mons, Major Curzon distinguishes himself through unyielding defense and is promoted to Major-General. He marries a duke's daughter, trains a new division of Kitchener's Army, and is promoted to Corps level. At Ypres, at the Somme, at Arras, he proceeds in the best tradition of the British Army, sending thousands of Tommies to their deaths in the trenches in futile attacks. Curzon is untroubled by the slaughter, by innovations like gas and tanks, unable to see victory beyond brutal attrition. He participates in intrigues at G.H.Q. and the dining table, until at the end of the war, his lines broken by new German stormtrooper tactics, he rides out to meet his fate, and loses a leg to a random shell. Death before comprehension, for this general.
The kindle edition has a solid introduction by Max Hasting, placing it in historiographic context of interpreting the first World War, the popularity of generals like Haig at the time, and their subsequent erasure as donkeys and butchers. Two passages, the description of Curzon in the beginning, and the metaphor of the general staff trying to win offensives like someone who had never seen a screw before try and remove one by pulling, are legendary. The book as a whole is a strong contribution to military literature, and a fascinating character study of a vanished breed.
The kindle edition has a solid introduction by Max Hasting, placing it in historiographic context of interpreting the first World War, the popularity of generals like Haig at the time, and their subsequent erasure as donkeys and butchers. Two passages, the description of Curzon in the beginning, and the metaphor of the general staff trying to win offensives like someone who had never seen a screw before try and remove one by pulling, are legendary. The book as a whole is a strong contribution to military literature, and a fascinating character study of a vanished breed.
April 2, 2016
It's good, on the centennial of World War I (the Battle of the Somme started July 1, 1916) to reflect on the carnage, to ponder how the British lost -- threw away -- a generation of young men on futile trench warfare. C.S. Forester's book, one of his non-Hornblower masterpieces, is one way to understand the times and the mindset. His title, fictional character, Gen. Herbert Curzon, exemplifies a generation of British generals, too rigid and unimaginative to adapt to a new war and contributing thus to the slaughter. His Curzon is well-drawn, even sympathetic in an odd way, albeit not terribly likeable, a well-meaning personality whose rise through division and corps command on the Western Front only enables more and more senseless losses. It seems true enough, even as fiction, to explain the four years of repetitive, appalling trench warfare, and in C.S. Forester's telling its candid, well-explained, vivid.
It's perhaps more poignant to reflect on that, the red poppies in the lapels every Nov. 11, since it represents the irreplaceable loss of human potential and materiel, money and men they couldn't afford to lose, but did -- and Herbert Curzon is the reason why. Highest recommendation.
It's perhaps more poignant to reflect on that, the red poppies in the lapels every Nov. 11, since it represents the irreplaceable loss of human potential and materiel, money and men they couldn't afford to lose, but did -- and Herbert Curzon is the reason why. Highest recommendation.
September 13, 2018
This was a hard book to read as it described the depressing life of a British officer during the First World War who advances in rank at a ridiculous rate due to wartime casualties. We have a very different view of military service today than what was expected in the early 1900s. All this to say that C. S. Forester wrote a very compelling novel that tracks the advancement of the general and the sufferings he and his family endured. A hard story to “enjoy” but well written and compelling drama. It would be hard for readers today to comprehend wartime service without the internet and the ability to communicate instantly and to appreciate the impact separation can have on families. While this was a great book, I’m really looking forward to getting on to my next one and I hope it’ll have comedy and dogs.
November 15, 2022
This is an interesting book. It is not quite a satire as the main character, Herbert Curzon is both a hero and an object of derision. Written in 1937, the author could see WW II coming and was hoping that the British Army had discarded the destructive tactics of WW I. I think Curzon represented both the best and the worst of the British officer corps of his era. Brought up on the archaic regimental system (no talk of politics, religion, or military matters in the officers mess), the British officers of the era proved to be especially resilient on the battlefield. The British Army suffered defeat after defeat from 1940 to late 1942, but continued as the bulwark against the Nazis when a lesser Army would have given up.
October 29, 2016
The General (1936) is virtually a biography of a fictional Army officer. It begins with Lieutenant-General Sir Herbert Curzon, KCMG, CB, DSO being wheeled in his bath-chair along Bournemouth’s promenade. Local opinion in Bournemouth ‘is inclined to give Sir Herbert more credit than he has really earned, although perhaps not more than he deserves.’ That ambivalent, cryptic observation then leads into a flashback that covers almost the entire book.
The ‘virtual biography’ stems from the style and point of view of the writing: ‘The day on which Curzon first stepped over the threshold of history, the day which was to start him towards the command of a hundred thousand men, towards knighthood – and towards the bath-chair on Bournemouth promenade – found him as a worried subaltern in an early South African battle.’
At the time, Curzon was in the cavalry fighting the Boers. By chance rather than design, he distinguished himself in the battle of Volkslaagte and earned a DSO. Curzon is depicted as a man of honour without much imagination. He desired to conform to type, particularly as his family history could not compare with that of the majority of officers. ‘… it is assumed that it is inherent in the English character to wish not to appear different from one’s fellows, but that is a bold assumption to make regarding a nation which has produced more original personalities than any other in modern times.’ (p20)
The years passed and then the First World War was upon them. Forester captures a great deal of the feel of the time: ‘There never had been a mobilization like this in all British history…’ (p28) They conveyed some three thousand horses to France for the expeditionary force.
Curzon believed in the maxim, ‘Feed the horses before the men, and the men before the officers, and the officers before yourself.’ (p29) He didn’t like to command his division by telephone, as other commanders did: ‘He was still imbued with the regimental ideal of sharing on active service the dangers and discomforts of his men.’ (p148)
Curzon had not mastered French, ‘which the civilians talked with such disconcerting readiness. He had early formed a theory that French could only be spoken by people with a malformed larynx…’ (p29) This is only one instance where Forester employs his humour and irony. Another is: ‘Her Grace is not at home, sir,’ said the butler at the door. By a miracle of elocution he managed to drop just enough of each aitch to prove himself a butler without dropping the rest.’ (p68)
At length, Curzon was promoted to Major-General and given the Ninety-first Division, to relieve a rather aged officer – ‘a doddering old fool’ - and take his residence. The outgoing officer and his wife were not pleased. ‘Until this morning they had felt secure in the pomp and power of their official position. It was a shock for old people to be flung out like this without warning… With the tenacity of very old people for the good things of life they wanted to spin out their stay here, even for only a few days.’ (p88)
Eventually, Curzon marries well, the daughter of a duke. ‘The Bishop (he was a Winter-Willoughby too; by common report the only one with any brains, and he had too many) went through the service…’ (p102) Afterwards, at the reception, Forester presages the doom looming: ‘The sparse khaki amidst the morning coats and the elaborate dressed would have been significant to an attentive observer. Those uniforms were like the secret seeds of decay in the midst of an apparently healthy body. They were significant of the end of a great era.’ (p103)
While Curzon might have been a bit of a snob, he was not as out of touch as his in-laws: ‘… it gave the Duchess an uneasy sense of outraged convention that aeroplane bombs should slay those in high places as readily as those in low. She described the horrors of air raids to Curzon (on leave) as though he had never seen a bombardment.’ (p175) The Duke’s sense of proportion was less warped, if marginally so.
There are a few moving passages where Curzon’s stiff upper lip almost falters with regard to his wife. ‘Curzon actually had to swallow hard as he kissed her good-bye; he was moved inexpressibly by the renewal of the discovery that there was actually a woman on earth who could weep for him.’ (219) [We’ll ignore the repetition of ‘actually’…]
As the war gets under way, Curzon’s 91st Division is scheduled for Gallipoli, but he wants to face the Hun and manages to get the orders changed. To the Western Front – Flanders’ fields…
Written just before the next global conflict, The General shows that the adage ‘lions led by donkeys’ might have been good left-wing or liberal propaganda, but it was unfair. The methodology of warfare had been outstripped by the weapons. Common sense should have indicated that throwing thousands of infantry at barbed wire and machine-guns was no way to wage war. ‘… a convention had grown up under which the prowess of a division was measured by the number of its men who were killed.’ They were playing a numbers game, not dealing with human beings who had dreams, hopes and families.
Although Forester didn’t go into combat, but he manages nevertheless to convey some of the horror of trench warfare. The General is an excellent examination of a brave First World War officer thrust into a situation largely beyond his understanding where his beliefs and ideals are shattered by modern warfare.
The ‘virtual biography’ stems from the style and point of view of the writing: ‘The day on which Curzon first stepped over the threshold of history, the day which was to start him towards the command of a hundred thousand men, towards knighthood – and towards the bath-chair on Bournemouth promenade – found him as a worried subaltern in an early South African battle.’
At the time, Curzon was in the cavalry fighting the Boers. By chance rather than design, he distinguished himself in the battle of Volkslaagte and earned a DSO. Curzon is depicted as a man of honour without much imagination. He desired to conform to type, particularly as his family history could not compare with that of the majority of officers. ‘… it is assumed that it is inherent in the English character to wish not to appear different from one’s fellows, but that is a bold assumption to make regarding a nation which has produced more original personalities than any other in modern times.’ (p20)
The years passed and then the First World War was upon them. Forester captures a great deal of the feel of the time: ‘There never had been a mobilization like this in all British history…’ (p28) They conveyed some three thousand horses to France for the expeditionary force.
Curzon believed in the maxim, ‘Feed the horses before the men, and the men before the officers, and the officers before yourself.’ (p29) He didn’t like to command his division by telephone, as other commanders did: ‘He was still imbued with the regimental ideal of sharing on active service the dangers and discomforts of his men.’ (p148)
Curzon had not mastered French, ‘which the civilians talked with such disconcerting readiness. He had early formed a theory that French could only be spoken by people with a malformed larynx…’ (p29) This is only one instance where Forester employs his humour and irony. Another is: ‘Her Grace is not at home, sir,’ said the butler at the door. By a miracle of elocution he managed to drop just enough of each aitch to prove himself a butler without dropping the rest.’ (p68)
At length, Curzon was promoted to Major-General and given the Ninety-first Division, to relieve a rather aged officer – ‘a doddering old fool’ - and take his residence. The outgoing officer and his wife were not pleased. ‘Until this morning they had felt secure in the pomp and power of their official position. It was a shock for old people to be flung out like this without warning… With the tenacity of very old people for the good things of life they wanted to spin out their stay here, even for only a few days.’ (p88)
Eventually, Curzon marries well, the daughter of a duke. ‘The Bishop (he was a Winter-Willoughby too; by common report the only one with any brains, and he had too many) went through the service…’ (p102) Afterwards, at the reception, Forester presages the doom looming: ‘The sparse khaki amidst the morning coats and the elaborate dressed would have been significant to an attentive observer. Those uniforms were like the secret seeds of decay in the midst of an apparently healthy body. They were significant of the end of a great era.’ (p103)
While Curzon might have been a bit of a snob, he was not as out of touch as his in-laws: ‘… it gave the Duchess an uneasy sense of outraged convention that aeroplane bombs should slay those in high places as readily as those in low. She described the horrors of air raids to Curzon (on leave) as though he had never seen a bombardment.’ (p175) The Duke’s sense of proportion was less warped, if marginally so.
There are a few moving passages where Curzon’s stiff upper lip almost falters with regard to his wife. ‘Curzon actually had to swallow hard as he kissed her good-bye; he was moved inexpressibly by the renewal of the discovery that there was actually a woman on earth who could weep for him.’ (219) [We’ll ignore the repetition of ‘actually’…]
As the war gets under way, Curzon’s 91st Division is scheduled for Gallipoli, but he wants to face the Hun and manages to get the orders changed. To the Western Front – Flanders’ fields…
Written just before the next global conflict, The General shows that the adage ‘lions led by donkeys’ might have been good left-wing or liberal propaganda, but it was unfair. The methodology of warfare had been outstripped by the weapons. Common sense should have indicated that throwing thousands of infantry at barbed wire and machine-guns was no way to wage war. ‘… a convention had grown up under which the prowess of a division was measured by the number of its men who were killed.’ They were playing a numbers game, not dealing with human beings who had dreams, hopes and families.
Although Forester didn’t go into combat, but he manages nevertheless to convey some of the horror of trench warfare. The General is an excellent examination of a brave First World War officer thrust into a situation largely beyond his understanding where his beliefs and ideals are shattered by modern warfare.
December 27, 2020
A very heart-rending story about WWI. It doesn't explain a bit what had actually happened (something which I am still trying to read about in some book), principally because the protagonist has no clue either. But it's brilliant; not as technical and squeezed into a single location and almost a single day as The Good Shepherd, but still.
August 26, 2024
Masterfully done, well-written, and an entertaining read.
June 7, 2025
Somewhere between Catch-22 and All Quiet on the Western Front, The General follows Herbert Curzon, a blindly loyal British army officer who, through luck and circumstance, makes his way up the ranks to become a general during WWI. Unimaginative and completely loyal to the hierarchy, General Curzon takes and follows orders without bothering himself about the consequences and, without any malice or contempt, leads his men to slaughter in France. Curzon is the perfect fictitious merger of all the wrong qualities held by real WWI military and political leaders and serves as a warning about inept leadership. Forester's prose is simple but the message is stinging.
August 12, 2021
The goodreads description does not do this fictionalised biography justice. The book is about how a decent man as General can in good conscience give orders that he as the General knows will give rise to enormous casualties.
Called The General by CS Forester who wrote the Hornblower series of books as well as the Good Shepherd about a destroyer guarding Atlantic convoys renamed Greyhound for the film starring Tom Hanks on Amazon Prime.
The book is a fictional account of a WW1 general that attempts to understand how British generals’ training and character allowed the planning for continued mass frontal assaults with high casualty rates.
The book is a compelling character study and is recommended as good short read.
It is the book Marine General John Kelly reads every time he gets a promotion to remind him of 'the perils of hubris, the pitfalls of patriotism and duty unaccompanied by critical thinking'.
Of specific relevance to my previous post re lack of imagination / critical, Forester has this passage
“….how, after the failure of the British attack at Loos in October 1915, the commanders of the British Expeditionary Force discussed preparations for a new offensive (ed note -Somme 1916) with more men, more guns, more shells, more gas:
In some ways, it was like the debate of a group of savages as to how to extract a screw from a piece of wood.
Accustomed only to nails, they had made [already] one effort to pull out the screw by main force, and now that it had failed they were devising methods of applying more force still, of obtaining more efficient pincers, of using levers and fulcrums so that more men could bring their strength to bear.
They could hardly be blamed for not guessing that by rotating the screw it would come out after the exertion of far less effort; it would be a notion so different from anything they had ever encountered that they would laugh at the man who suggested it…..'
Called The General by CS Forester who wrote the Hornblower series of books as well as the Good Shepherd about a destroyer guarding Atlantic convoys renamed Greyhound for the film starring Tom Hanks on Amazon Prime.
The book is a fictional account of a WW1 general that attempts to understand how British generals’ training and character allowed the planning for continued mass frontal assaults with high casualty rates.
The book is a compelling character study and is recommended as good short read.
It is the book Marine General John Kelly reads every time he gets a promotion to remind him of 'the perils of hubris, the pitfalls of patriotism and duty unaccompanied by critical thinking'.
Of specific relevance to my previous post re lack of imagination / critical, Forester has this passage
“….how, after the failure of the British attack at Loos in October 1915, the commanders of the British Expeditionary Force discussed preparations for a new offensive (ed note -Somme 1916) with more men, more guns, more shells, more gas:
In some ways, it was like the debate of a group of savages as to how to extract a screw from a piece of wood.
Accustomed only to nails, they had made [already] one effort to pull out the screw by main force, and now that it had failed they were devising methods of applying more force still, of obtaining more efficient pincers, of using levers and fulcrums so that more men could bring their strength to bear.
They could hardly be blamed for not guessing that by rotating the screw it would come out after the exertion of far less effort; it would be a notion so different from anything they had ever encountered that they would laugh at the man who suggested it…..'
January 13, 2025
A fictional biography of a British officer with a strong sense of duty but little imagination who rose through the ranks to become a general and send thousands of men to their deaths in World War I. By all accounts, it is a very accurate portrayal of war. Spoiler alert: War is a great waste of human lives, fought by the young to satisfy the old and powerful.
July 16, 2022
By crawling inside the head of a WWI general, Forester gives us a corrective to the heroes and monsters of military biographies. Herbert Curzon does not wake up every morning seeking mass slaughter from minor victories or utter failures. He does his duty, as military tradition and training have taught him, and that lived defense of the status quo is the path to disaster. Like Curzon, Forester has a challenge in bridging the gap between what he hopes to achieve and what he has to work with. How do you keep the reader engaged if your subject is a man who stays in his intellectual and emotional rut? I quit this book about half-way through when Curzon yet again embraced the cult of the offensive, and I said aloud, “OK, I get it.” But I came back after reading several retrospectives on U.S. operations in Afghanistan, because the flat trajectory of the general is the point. Lather, rinse, repeat until a bomb or bullet finds you, or until the war ends and you proverbially fade away. This kind of dull horror does not make for engrossing reading—especially when paired with Curzon’s stilted domestic life, clinging to Victorian pieties. But books that are instructive are not always great reads, and this is an important window into an all-too-common type of military mind.
April 8, 2024
An early work from the great C.S.Forester describing the rise of General Curzon from the cavalry charges in the Boer war to commanding hundreds of thousands of men in WW1. His Victorian attitudes means his mind is solely focussed on this work, meaning family and friends must die in the cause of his unwavering tactics (whether right or wrong).
The sheer effort and cost of life is unbelievable and understandably, the General and GHQ has a hard time adjusting to the new inventions and methods of war. 600,000 dead at the Somme based on a phone call from an office.
More men dead in the first hours than during the entire Boer war.
"He spoke vehemently against the effect on the troops of life in the trenches... And with his experience of improvised attacks and defence to help him, he was able to say how advantageous it must be to be allowed ample time to mount and prepare a careful attack... He suddenly realised how fluently he was talking. It was lawyer-like and un-English to be eloquent." P.177
"A week of expectation followed, a week during which bombardment raved louder than the loudest brief thunderstorm anyone had ever heard; the biggest noise which has shaken the world since it had settled into it's present shape." P.233
The sheer effort and cost of life is unbelievable and understandably, the General and GHQ has a hard time adjusting to the new inventions and methods of war. 600,000 dead at the Somme based on a phone call from an office.
More men dead in the first hours than during the entire Boer war.
"He spoke vehemently against the effect on the troops of life in the trenches... And with his experience of improvised attacks and defence to help him, he was able to say how advantageous it must be to be allowed ample time to mount and prepare a careful attack... He suddenly realised how fluently he was talking. It was lawyer-like and un-English to be eloquent." P.177
"A week of expectation followed, a week during which bombardment raved louder than the loudest brief thunderstorm anyone had ever heard; the biggest noise which has shaken the world since it had settled into it's present shape." P.233
November 18, 2014
This is a truly interesting study in fictional format of the "Leadership Mentality" that was embedded within the British High Command during World War I. Well worth reading, Forester has captured with a strong sense of culture, attitudes, education and the impact of "Empire," the multiple forces and influences that produced the British Military Leadership leading to such horrific Battles as the Somme in July 1, 1916 and Passchendaele July 11, 1917. Beautifully written, "The General" is considered may be critics as Forester's best book. Written early in his career before he became well know for his "Hornblower" novels, "The General" is most appropriate and especially relevant as the world looks back at the 100th Anniversary of the beginning of the First World War. I highly recommend this book to individuals interested in Leadership and the "Traps" that power brings with it in times of conflict!
September 8, 2023
I have finished reading “The General” by C.S. Forester.
This is a fictional tale of a stereotypical up and coming World War 1 General Herbert “Bertie” Curzon.
The print that my Kindle purchase came from had a useful introduction by Military Historian Max Hastings who helped set the context for C.S. Forester’s book. He goes through an intriguing history of where the “Lions led by Donkeys” myth came from and whether it was actually apt to many of those who served and whether the facts back up the myth. In the immediate years after the war, despite the heavy bloodshed, it seems that most servicemen actually held their leaders in high regard at this point. He reported that it was largely a reflection of this being the most documented war in Western history (up to that point), attitudes reflected in the war poetry and disillusionment at the state of the world in the interwar period. There was a judgement among some soldiers and officers that their superiors unnecessarily locked them in a blood bath due to the way the British General caste was raised. Specifically, the charge was raised that they were trained in a mentality that makes them both more in favour of offensive tactics over defensive tactics and didn’t have the mental flexibility or creativity to navigate themselves out of trench warfare. Max Hastings made clear that in his view these charges against these military leaders are contested by some scholars today and arguably disproven by some. He also points out that World War One is often seen as bloodier than World War Two, which while a common perception, is in fact incorrect. The stark difference in opponents between Imperial Germany and Nazi Germany also help colour perceptions of their being a “good war” and a “bad war”.
In many ways the start of the book allows the reader to see Curzon in his element, in a way that he sees an idealised version of himself. He earns his first claim to fame in the British Military during a battle in the Boer War in which, by following his instincts and his training, he manages to lead his cavalry to catch enemy artillery unaware and neutralise them. This serves to not only make him a minor British Military celebrity, but also helps to confirm him in his rigid personal ethos and world view.
The start of the book lays out personality traits which one would deem honourable and desirable. Curzon is professional. He is loyal both to the military hierarchy but also instinctually fiercely loyal to friends. In his approach to command there is definitely a right and a wrong way of doing things in his book. Unless directly ordered not to follow it he makes sure anyone under his command adheres to his philosophy.
The job and role for which he has dedicated his life to is thrown into question by trench warfare on the Western Front in World War One. To make matters worse he is soon transferred away from commanding his beloved cavalry to commanding infantry. At first Curzon earns a reputation for being steadfast and a firm line holder amid the first months of fierce fighting on his front. In this way he becomes the ideal general that becomes the darling of the media, other officers, those in charge of promotions as well as eligible future wives suitably at his desired social class.
This leads to his marriage to the daughter of a Duke and Duchess, Emily, who is shown in many ways to be as much a victim of being brought to fit a rigid role as Curzon. Curzon’s early exploits lead him to be invited to the Duke (one with frontline political ambitions) and Duchesses’ house where he sees Emily, who is remarked by the author as being pretty average in appearance. Curzon instinctually pursues a quiet but determined romance with her that eventually blossoms into marriage.
Without giving too much away, Curzon’s style of Generalship is seen differently by the Military and Political establishment as the war matures and the wider strategic background of it changes. For instance, he is put in a position where has to acknowledge more and more the need to husband his manpower resources to stem the lists of growing casualties. But as he does, despite himself, he finds it harder to ignore his pangs of conscience as he stares at the casualty lists. Changing circumstances also bring him to consider what he sees as something against his code: fighting a war based on defensive tactics.
Despite the potential flaws outlined above I enjoyed this book. I appreciate the efforts the author to humanise Curzon, so he couldn’t be pigeon-holed as some sort of order giving and attacking automaton. I would go as far to say that much of his personality seems familiar in a friend or two of mine, indeed some of them are admirable. Who wouldn’t want a fiercely loyal friend? The way he sees things, his code and way of life has served him and his country well, so why change it? The author does portray Curzon’s mind occasionally wandering to subjects such as his personal loneliness (an issue which may account for his fierce friendship loyalties). But such thoughts are instinctively shut off by the demands of his job which he uses to relentlessly postpone facing up to such personal challenges and dilemma. Even as he has intimacy issues with Emily, I would say that despite their issues there is a genuinely touching companionship there if not love in some form.
While this book may be seen by some as a flawed caricature of a certain historical military caste, I think dismissing it as merely that would do it a disservice. One could see this book as a kind of metaphor for life for many. We follow certain codes, traditions and myths we hang on to for as long as we can. That is until events in life threaten to throw us into uncertainty. This can put us in the position where we feel like we are on our own. It can happen to anyone. You, me and it would seem probably World War One Generals once upon a time.
This is a fictional tale of a stereotypical up and coming World War 1 General Herbert “Bertie” Curzon.
The print that my Kindle purchase came from had a useful introduction by Military Historian Max Hastings who helped set the context for C.S. Forester’s book. He goes through an intriguing history of where the “Lions led by Donkeys” myth came from and whether it was actually apt to many of those who served and whether the facts back up the myth. In the immediate years after the war, despite the heavy bloodshed, it seems that most servicemen actually held their leaders in high regard at this point. He reported that it was largely a reflection of this being the most documented war in Western history (up to that point), attitudes reflected in the war poetry and disillusionment at the state of the world in the interwar period. There was a judgement among some soldiers and officers that their superiors unnecessarily locked them in a blood bath due to the way the British General caste was raised. Specifically, the charge was raised that they were trained in a mentality that makes them both more in favour of offensive tactics over defensive tactics and didn’t have the mental flexibility or creativity to navigate themselves out of trench warfare. Max Hastings made clear that in his view these charges against these military leaders are contested by some scholars today and arguably disproven by some. He also points out that World War One is often seen as bloodier than World War Two, which while a common perception, is in fact incorrect. The stark difference in opponents between Imperial Germany and Nazi Germany also help colour perceptions of their being a “good war” and a “bad war”.
In many ways the start of the book allows the reader to see Curzon in his element, in a way that he sees an idealised version of himself. He earns his first claim to fame in the British Military during a battle in the Boer War in which, by following his instincts and his training, he manages to lead his cavalry to catch enemy artillery unaware and neutralise them. This serves to not only make him a minor British Military celebrity, but also helps to confirm him in his rigid personal ethos and world view.
The start of the book lays out personality traits which one would deem honourable and desirable. Curzon is professional. He is loyal both to the military hierarchy but also instinctually fiercely loyal to friends. In his approach to command there is definitely a right and a wrong way of doing things in his book. Unless directly ordered not to follow it he makes sure anyone under his command adheres to his philosophy.
The job and role for which he has dedicated his life to is thrown into question by trench warfare on the Western Front in World War One. To make matters worse he is soon transferred away from commanding his beloved cavalry to commanding infantry. At first Curzon earns a reputation for being steadfast and a firm line holder amid the first months of fierce fighting on his front. In this way he becomes the ideal general that becomes the darling of the media, other officers, those in charge of promotions as well as eligible future wives suitably at his desired social class.
This leads to his marriage to the daughter of a Duke and Duchess, Emily, who is shown in many ways to be as much a victim of being brought to fit a rigid role as Curzon. Curzon’s early exploits lead him to be invited to the Duke (one with frontline political ambitions) and Duchesses’ house where he sees Emily, who is remarked by the author as being pretty average in appearance. Curzon instinctually pursues a quiet but determined romance with her that eventually blossoms into marriage.
Without giving too much away, Curzon’s style of Generalship is seen differently by the Military and Political establishment as the war matures and the wider strategic background of it changes. For instance, he is put in a position where has to acknowledge more and more the need to husband his manpower resources to stem the lists of growing casualties. But as he does, despite himself, he finds it harder to ignore his pangs of conscience as he stares at the casualty lists. Changing circumstances also bring him to consider what he sees as something against his code: fighting a war based on defensive tactics.
Despite the potential flaws outlined above I enjoyed this book. I appreciate the efforts the author to humanise Curzon, so he couldn’t be pigeon-holed as some sort of order giving and attacking automaton. I would go as far to say that much of his personality seems familiar in a friend or two of mine, indeed some of them are admirable. Who wouldn’t want a fiercely loyal friend? The way he sees things, his code and way of life has served him and his country well, so why change it? The author does portray Curzon’s mind occasionally wandering to subjects such as his personal loneliness (an issue which may account for his fierce friendship loyalties). But such thoughts are instinctively shut off by the demands of his job which he uses to relentlessly postpone facing up to such personal challenges and dilemma. Even as he has intimacy issues with Emily, I would say that despite their issues there is a genuinely touching companionship there if not love in some form.
While this book may be seen by some as a flawed caricature of a certain historical military caste, I think dismissing it as merely that would do it a disservice. One could see this book as a kind of metaphor for life for many. We follow certain codes, traditions and myths we hang on to for as long as we can. That is until events in life threaten to throw us into uncertainty. This can put us in the position where we feel like we are on our own. It can happen to anyone. You, me and it would seem probably World War One Generals once upon a time.
April 10, 2014
Simply put. Superb. I read the Hornblower series, and collect them, so i thought I'd start on the rest. Wasn't keen on Payment Deferred. But this is excellent. Stood he test of time, and in this centenary year of the First World War, should be read.
I wonder with hindsight whether Forester realised he'd missed a trick in not writing a series about Curzon, and that led him to Hornblower.
In comparison to Hornblower though, The General is a very serious and worthy novel.
I wonder with hindsight whether Forester realised he'd missed a trick in not writing a series about Curzon, and that led him to Hornblower.
In comparison to Hornblower though, The General is a very serious and worthy novel.
August 15, 2009
About halfway through this book right now. The story is compelling, and the insight into the life of a British Military Officer around WWI is helping me to better understand how the war became what it did.
April 29, 2014
Sad but true. Ours it but to do and die.
October 26, 2014
A view of military politics we don't often see.
October 14, 2014
Engaging.
April 7, 2018
this read turned me into a CS Forester fan!
August 10, 2025
This is a remarkable, engaging and highly memorable piece of fiction, and I can't recommend it highly enough. In the introduction to my edition, and with his typically piercing and acidic insight, Max Hastings comments that, “It is a childish delusion to suppose that 1914-18's fighting men experienced worse things than their forebears had known. They did not…What changed in the First World War was simply that cultured citizen soldiers, disdaining the stoicism displayed since time immemorial by warriors, most of whom were anyway illiterate, chronicled the conflict into which they were plunged with an unprecedented lyricism. Moreover, the absence of significant strategic movement on the Western Front generated a sense of military futility which afterwards extended, understandably but irrationally, and especially among later generations rather than among contemporary participants, to the merits of the Allied cause.” If any single group was singled out for this literary ire, then it was the Generals: from “Butcher” Haig to Blackadder's General Melchett, the military leaders of 1914-18 are dismissed as cruel and incompetent, a unique brand of malicious fool who condemned millions of men to squalid and pointless deaths in the muddy battlefields of Western Europe. With so many layers of historical and cultural preconception, it is remarkable that Forester singles out the First World War General, personified in the fictional Curzon, as a character to be understood and even sympathised with. Forester himself said that he thought this was his best book, and I am somewhat inclined to agree.
He begins by establishing Curzon’s undoubted physical courage and tactical competence as he, like so many who were to ascend to generalship as the war progressed, began it as a regimental officer. Surviving the initial slaughter of Britain's relatively small professional army, Curzon returns home wounded, decorated, promoted, and with his reputation much burnished. In a memorable passage, the new Hector is accosted in his club by grey-haired warriors from previous conflicts: “From every corner of the Club men came crowding to hear his news and to ask him questions, or merely to look at the man newly returned from a European war. They were grey-headed old men, most of them, and they eyed him with envy. With anxiety, too; they had been gathering their information from the all-too-meagre communiqués and from the all-too-extensive casualty lists. They feared to know the worst at the same time as they asked, and they raised their voices in quavering questions about this unit and that, and to every question, Curzon could only give a painful answer. There was not a unit in the Expeditionary Force which had not poured out its best blood at Mons or at Le Cateau or at Ypres. For a long time, Curzon dealt out death and despair among those old men; it was fortunate that he did not feel the awkwardness which a more sensitive man might have felt. After all, casualties were a perfectly natural subject for a military man to discuss. It was need for his lunch which caused him in the end to break off the conversation, and even at lunch he was not free from interruption.” Curzon is not self-consciously insensitive or unfeeling; rather, he is from a time, class and profession that cultivated and prized stoicism, emotional restraint and a detached and rational approach to the question of casualties and loss. His practical need for lunch is of more immediate concern than the already appalling casualty figures from France and Belgium.
With these preliminaries established, Forester points out that Curzon “was destined for the command of four divisions, for the control of something like a hundred thousand men in battle - as many as Wellington or Marlborough ever commanded.” With the best will in the world, Curzon and his contemporaries could not be considered as military geniuses of the calibre of a Wellington or a Marlborough. Rather, they are constituent parts of a military apparatus on a scale never previously imagined, and leveraging a degree of technological advancement that was previously inconceivable. And above all, they are competent, but ultimately ordinary, professional soldiers.
What such men were able to contribute to the leadership of their divisions, corps, and armies was relentless courage, discipline, dedication, imperturbability, and an aggressive instinct to attack. Furthermore, they held the unshakeable assumption that these qualities were all that was needed to win through. In another memorable passage, Curzon and his peers respond to the failure of the 1915 offensive: “In some ways it was like the debate of a group of savages as to how to extract a screw from a piece of wood. Accustomed only to nails, they had made one effort to pull out the screw by main force, and now that it had failed they were devising methods of applying more force still, of obtaining more efficient pincers, of using levers and fulcrums so that more men could bring their strength to bear. They could hardly be blamed for not guessing that by rotating the screw it would come out after the exertion of far less effort; it would be a notion so different from anything they had ever encountered that they would laugh at the man who suggested it.” The result, Forester notes ominously, was the plan for the battle of the Somme.
Remarkably, in response to the unprecedented bloodshed of 1916, Forester paints a picture of the men who oversaw it that is both human and understandable. How, we ask, could they have reasonably done otherwise? Forester writes that, “The generals round the table were not men who were easily discouraged - men of that sort did not last long in command in France. Now that the first shock of disappointment had been faced, they were prepared to make a fresh effort, and to go on making those efforts as long as their strength lasted…The men who were wanted were men without fear of responsibility, men of ceaseless energy and of iron will, who could be relied upon to carry out their part in a plan of battle as far as flesh and blood - their own and their men’s - would permit. Men without imagination were necessary to execute a military policy devoid of imagination, devised by a man without imagination…When brute force was to be systematically applied, only men who could fit into the system without allowance having to be made for them were wanted.”
Fittingly, Curzon is gravely wounded during the Spring Offensive in 1918, riding forward with undaunted courage, with an unblinking determination to meet his doom in the face of a seemingly unrecoverable disaster. This means that he misses the Hundred Days Offensive and the end of the war, and so is blissfully shielded from having any of his previous military preconceptions challenged.
In the end, Forester has given us the portrait of a man who is decidedly human and flawed, but who retains many admirable qualities. Curzon’s unthinking physical courage, iron discipline, and determination to drive on whatever the cost are praiseworthy in an individual soldier, or even in a regimental officer. In a general commanding a hundred thousand souls in an industrial war, however, they are terrifying. In The General, CS Forester has written a discomforting and thought-provoking piece of fiction, and it is one that I will remember and continue to chew over for a long time.
He begins by establishing Curzon’s undoubted physical courage and tactical competence as he, like so many who were to ascend to generalship as the war progressed, began it as a regimental officer. Surviving the initial slaughter of Britain's relatively small professional army, Curzon returns home wounded, decorated, promoted, and with his reputation much burnished. In a memorable passage, the new Hector is accosted in his club by grey-haired warriors from previous conflicts: “From every corner of the Club men came crowding to hear his news and to ask him questions, or merely to look at the man newly returned from a European war. They were grey-headed old men, most of them, and they eyed him with envy. With anxiety, too; they had been gathering their information from the all-too-meagre communiqués and from the all-too-extensive casualty lists. They feared to know the worst at the same time as they asked, and they raised their voices in quavering questions about this unit and that, and to every question, Curzon could only give a painful answer. There was not a unit in the Expeditionary Force which had not poured out its best blood at Mons or at Le Cateau or at Ypres. For a long time, Curzon dealt out death and despair among those old men; it was fortunate that he did not feel the awkwardness which a more sensitive man might have felt. After all, casualties were a perfectly natural subject for a military man to discuss. It was need for his lunch which caused him in the end to break off the conversation, and even at lunch he was not free from interruption.” Curzon is not self-consciously insensitive or unfeeling; rather, he is from a time, class and profession that cultivated and prized stoicism, emotional restraint and a detached and rational approach to the question of casualties and loss. His practical need for lunch is of more immediate concern than the already appalling casualty figures from France and Belgium.
With these preliminaries established, Forester points out that Curzon “was destined for the command of four divisions, for the control of something like a hundred thousand men in battle - as many as Wellington or Marlborough ever commanded.” With the best will in the world, Curzon and his contemporaries could not be considered as military geniuses of the calibre of a Wellington or a Marlborough. Rather, they are constituent parts of a military apparatus on a scale never previously imagined, and leveraging a degree of technological advancement that was previously inconceivable. And above all, they are competent, but ultimately ordinary, professional soldiers.
What such men were able to contribute to the leadership of their divisions, corps, and armies was relentless courage, discipline, dedication, imperturbability, and an aggressive instinct to attack. Furthermore, they held the unshakeable assumption that these qualities were all that was needed to win through. In another memorable passage, Curzon and his peers respond to the failure of the 1915 offensive: “In some ways it was like the debate of a group of savages as to how to extract a screw from a piece of wood. Accustomed only to nails, they had made one effort to pull out the screw by main force, and now that it had failed they were devising methods of applying more force still, of obtaining more efficient pincers, of using levers and fulcrums so that more men could bring their strength to bear. They could hardly be blamed for not guessing that by rotating the screw it would come out after the exertion of far less effort; it would be a notion so different from anything they had ever encountered that they would laugh at the man who suggested it.” The result, Forester notes ominously, was the plan for the battle of the Somme.
Remarkably, in response to the unprecedented bloodshed of 1916, Forester paints a picture of the men who oversaw it that is both human and understandable. How, we ask, could they have reasonably done otherwise? Forester writes that, “The generals round the table were not men who were easily discouraged - men of that sort did not last long in command in France. Now that the first shock of disappointment had been faced, they were prepared to make a fresh effort, and to go on making those efforts as long as their strength lasted…The men who were wanted were men without fear of responsibility, men of ceaseless energy and of iron will, who could be relied upon to carry out their part in a plan of battle as far as flesh and blood - their own and their men’s - would permit. Men without imagination were necessary to execute a military policy devoid of imagination, devised by a man without imagination…When brute force was to be systematically applied, only men who could fit into the system without allowance having to be made for them were wanted.”
Fittingly, Curzon is gravely wounded during the Spring Offensive in 1918, riding forward with undaunted courage, with an unblinking determination to meet his doom in the face of a seemingly unrecoverable disaster. This means that he misses the Hundred Days Offensive and the end of the war, and so is blissfully shielded from having any of his previous military preconceptions challenged.
In the end, Forester has given us the portrait of a man who is decidedly human and flawed, but who retains many admirable qualities. Curzon’s unthinking physical courage, iron discipline, and determination to drive on whatever the cost are praiseworthy in an individual soldier, or even in a regimental officer. In a general commanding a hundred thousand souls in an industrial war, however, they are terrifying. In The General, CS Forester has written a discomforting and thought-provoking piece of fiction, and it is one that I will remember and continue to chew over for a long time.
November 19, 2023
The General may be C. S. Forester’s effort to achieve greatness. The author has often focused on the ideal in leadership. Most famously in the many Hornblower adventures and history’s leaders like Lord Nelson and The Emperor Napoleon. In the General he gives us a character we can like, but a self un aware failure as a leader. Our protagonist is: Herbert Curzon, formally introduced as Lieutenant-General Sir Herbert Curzon, KCMG, CB, DSO. He is a retired distinguished officer, of some social standing and well received by all classes in post WWI England. Affable to all, dignified, the very model of war hero Lt. General and his down side, the humanizing factor is that the plays very bad bridge. Forester was very aware of a then popular analysis of the Allies in WWI. Lions lead by donkeys. Curzon will be our donkey.
We begin our acquittance with the Curzon as he is a new subaltern, commander of a cavalry officer. He is displaying some of the classics of leadership, leading his men by example and at the critical time taking them from what promises to be a rout. Happenstance places him at the lead of his unit at a place where he charges the enemy and is critical to winning the day. We are aware that he is a hero as a matter of luck and not knowing what else to do.
Years now pass as our subaltern becomes a better than average garrison officer. Like the hero of many British school boy books, he is not one to make a study of anything and lacks any curiosity in anything not part of his previous studies. Infantry tactics are for infantry, the airplane is a nonsensical toy and whatever a machine gun might be it is not something an horse soldier need consider.
Along the way he marries, a woman past her ‘prime” coming from money and title, but theirs is a love match. The pattern is established. Good things come to him, mostly unearned but never by ploy or deal making. Others who think him as pulling strings, pull strings for him. Whatever else Cruzon is, he is a loyal soldier and not one to force backroom deals. He does benefit from them.
Then comes the meat grinder of WWI. By the simple fact of outliving senior officers he is promoted. Happenstance of his new command has him looking better than we know he is. However much his warfighting lacks creativity or modern knowledge, he is steady, his troop are steady and he will execute orders at whatever their cost.
Cruzon is a man without hubris and yet we know because we have been told have been told he will command more men than ever did Field Marshal Arthur Wellesley, 1st Duke of Wellington. Only we seem to know he is not all that.
For once C.S. Forester has given us the contradictions of leadership. The tragedy of a decisionmaker who does what he is asked and leads others to follow.
Having read widely among Forester books, there is a seriousness to The General not to be found elsewhere. However adventuresome the plot may have appeared to some; this is an author looking to demonstrate something much deeper and more important that the glories of the British fighting man. The General make a claim toward being literature. It is a work that reaches beyond school boy appeal. Somehow it just misses that next mark. The elements are here. The General carries several important messages. It has value beyond the fission of the first read. An alert reader will have much upon which to ponder. It is well written. But it is not great literature. That said, if C.S Forester has written anything that should be on many reading lists, it is, The General.
We begin our acquittance with the Curzon as he is a new subaltern, commander of a cavalry officer. He is displaying some of the classics of leadership, leading his men by example and at the critical time taking them from what promises to be a rout. Happenstance places him at the lead of his unit at a place where he charges the enemy and is critical to winning the day. We are aware that he is a hero as a matter of luck and not knowing what else to do.
Years now pass as our subaltern becomes a better than average garrison officer. Like the hero of many British school boy books, he is not one to make a study of anything and lacks any curiosity in anything not part of his previous studies. Infantry tactics are for infantry, the airplane is a nonsensical toy and whatever a machine gun might be it is not something an horse soldier need consider.
Along the way he marries, a woman past her ‘prime” coming from money and title, but theirs is a love match. The pattern is established. Good things come to him, mostly unearned but never by ploy or deal making. Others who think him as pulling strings, pull strings for him. Whatever else Cruzon is, he is a loyal soldier and not one to force backroom deals. He does benefit from them.
Then comes the meat grinder of WWI. By the simple fact of outliving senior officers he is promoted. Happenstance of his new command has him looking better than we know he is. However much his warfighting lacks creativity or modern knowledge, he is steady, his troop are steady and he will execute orders at whatever their cost.
Cruzon is a man without hubris and yet we know because we have been told have been told he will command more men than ever did Field Marshal Arthur Wellesley, 1st Duke of Wellington. Only we seem to know he is not all that.
For once C.S. Forester has given us the contradictions of leadership. The tragedy of a decisionmaker who does what he is asked and leads others to follow.
Having read widely among Forester books, there is a seriousness to The General not to be found elsewhere. However adventuresome the plot may have appeared to some; this is an author looking to demonstrate something much deeper and more important that the glories of the British fighting man. The General make a claim toward being literature. It is a work that reaches beyond school boy appeal. Somehow it just misses that next mark. The elements are here. The General carries several important messages. It has value beyond the fission of the first read. An alert reader will have much upon which to ponder. It is well written. But it is not great literature. That said, if C.S Forester has written anything that should be on many reading lists, it is, The General.
September 3, 2020
I'm a big fan of CS Forester having read his Hornblower books at least 20 times each since I was a kid. I've read some of this other books but got put off when I got to The Sky and the Forest because it was very slow. I read the Good Shepherd because of the Tom Hanks movie then looked for other CS Forester books that I'd missed. For some reason I'd never come across The General but it was available on Kindle so here we are.
The General follows the career of a WWI British officer in WW1. It is partly a character study of the man (the protagonist Herbert Curzon) and part a condemnation of military doctrine and habit that led to the death of hundreds of thousands of the flower of British (and other) young men into the horror of trench warfare. Most of the book deals with Curzon's experiences leading first a regiment, then a corps on the Western Front. Because of Curzon's attention to detail, we see everything from the front line to the GHQ.
The character study is quite well done. The book follows both his civilian and military life and has a good balance (similar to Hornblower). Curzon is however much less interesting than Hornblower: he's a solid, unimaginative, order following man who does the job, in fact much better as a subordinate than a leader. He rises from a major to a Lieutenant-General due to luck, his doggedness, strength of character and marriage into a ducal house. Of course it is also helped by the attrition of officers above him during the war.
In his civilian life, he is fortunate to marry a lady of the British nobility much as Hornblower did as it helps his career. CS Forester goes into much more detail into his marriage than a military novel should. It almost seems like this could be a series, this book is what the Hornblower series would be like if it was condensed into a single book.
Spoiler below this line:
Overall, a fairly good read and CS Forester does a good job. The only thing I didn't like about it was that the book ended quite abruptly. The book pretty much ends when Curzon's corps fails to hold the Germans and he gets injured. After his injury, we see him as a retiree and that's it.
For anyone who is interested in CS Forester's work, I highly recommend the Hornblower series. Only if you become a big fan of his work, then I would recommend reading his stand alone books.
The General follows the career of a WWI British officer in WW1. It is partly a character study of the man (the protagonist Herbert Curzon) and part a condemnation of military doctrine and habit that led to the death of hundreds of thousands of the flower of British (and other) young men into the horror of trench warfare. Most of the book deals with Curzon's experiences leading first a regiment, then a corps on the Western Front. Because of Curzon's attention to detail, we see everything from the front line to the GHQ.
The character study is quite well done. The book follows both his civilian and military life and has a good balance (similar to Hornblower). Curzon is however much less interesting than Hornblower: he's a solid, unimaginative, order following man who does the job, in fact much better as a subordinate than a leader. He rises from a major to a Lieutenant-General due to luck, his doggedness, strength of character and marriage into a ducal house. Of course it is also helped by the attrition of officers above him during the war.
In his civilian life, he is fortunate to marry a lady of the British nobility much as Hornblower did as it helps his career. CS Forester goes into much more detail into his marriage than a military novel should. It almost seems like this could be a series, this book is what the Hornblower series would be like if it was condensed into a single book.
Spoiler below this line:
Overall, a fairly good read and CS Forester does a good job. The only thing I didn't like about it was that the book ended quite abruptly. The book pretty much ends when Curzon's corps fails to hold the Germans and he gets injured. After his injury, we see him as a retiree and that's it.
For anyone who is interested in CS Forester's work, I highly recommend the Hornblower series. Only if you become a big fan of his work, then I would recommend reading his stand alone books.
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