Making History

Can you have a mid-life crisis at twenty-four? Or is it just the usual crisis of adulthood, something I was going to have to get used to until I doddered into oblivion? For the past year, I realised, I had been suffering from this pain, this leaking of hot lead in my stomach. Every morning when I awoke and stared at the ceiling and listened to Jane’s gentle snoring it flooded my gut, a dark swell of recognition that here was another pissing day to be got through as me. How can you tell if that’s freakish or usual? No one ever says. The ceaselessly expanding Christian Societies in the university would tell you that it was a sign that you needed room for Christ in your life. That your ache was a vacuum in the soul. Yeah, right. Sure. show more It was the same void that drugs filled, I supposed. I had thought too that maybe this was what Jane was for. No, not what Jane was for, what Love was for. Then either I didn’t love Jane as I should or this was another blown theory. The longings of a creative spirit then? Maybe my soul craved expression in Art? But: can’t draw, can’t write, can’t sing, can’t play. Great. Where does that leave me? A kind of Salieri deal perhaps. Cursed with enough of divine fire to recognise it in others, but not enough to create anything myself. Aw, rats . . .

Even tho I love Stephen Fry's books (and pretty much everything else he shares with the world), Making History has been lingering on my kindle without even tempting me to start this. Why is that?

Well, I unfortunately was put of by the premise that promised time travel that would culminate in the prevention of Hitler, two subjects that really don't intrigue me at all.

When I started the book, the misgivings I had with the premise continued: I liked Fry's writing but I still couldn't get to grips with reading what was in part a biography of Hitler, which, well, I had not planned on ever reading. I even found myself skimming some of those parts. It was written really well, but not something I would have engaged with if it had been by any other author.

However, I knew enough about Stephen Fry to be intrigued as to how he would handle the subject and how he would tie up the various parallel story lines.

And of course the second story line about a history student who has just submitted his PhD thesis, was quirky enough and contained all the good parts, the parts where Fry questions things like the relationship between science and art, and how society attributes more importance to one rather than the other.

But then it happened: At about the half-way point, two things happened:

For one, I realised how unusual it is to read a WWI account (even tho fiction) from a German perspective. What is more, Fry did this rather well and without resorting to a lot of stereotyping or using cliches.

The second change was that the story suddenly changed a gear when the two plots crossed, and when we get to read Fry's conjectured alternate reality, which is not as, erm, peachy as the simple solution erasing Hitler's existence from the 20th century may seem.

The second half of the book had me gripped. If I had not arranged to meet with a friend for lunch, I would have read this book straight through all morning.

What I loved about Fry's story is that he did not rely on a naive plot, but actually put a lot of thought into his conjectures, where one change effects so many things that outcomes are not predictable. And, yet, despite the sensitive subjects that Fry brought up, there is an overarching tone of hope for humankind, even if the book focuses on the balance between the good and the bad that comes with every action.

I absolutely loved it.

Unfortunately, this is the last of Fry's novels that I hadn't read, yet, so I can only hope that he will at some point write another one. I love his other books (the non-fiction ones), but his fiction work is rather special to me. show less

A fun, breezy time-travel alternate history that it's best not to take too seriously. Author Stephen Fry's prose is witty and his novel is one of those rare books that is completely untaxing to read. The plot follows a university history student and a professor manipulating time to stop Adolf Hitler from being born, only to find themselves in a world where the non-existent Hitler was replaced by a more competent, less divisive figure who built a Greater German Reich which actually won. Fry correctly notes that even without Hitler himself, there were still the underlying seeds of intolerance sown in the German soil of the 1930s, such as the long tradition of anti-Semitism and the restrictions of the Treaty of Versailles (pg. 380). In show more this vein, there are a fair few good monologues on history and cause and effect, including a pretty damn great rant on the relative merits of history and mathematics (pp101-7).

It is a charming book that has a lot of fun with its scenarios and its characters, even if it conjures light mirth rather than laugh-out-loud moments (one notable exception being on pages 268-9, when the main character Michael, an Englishman, wakes up in the new timeline as an American and is confused at the fact his teeth are now whiter and that he doesn't have a foreskin). One can also forgive Fry a number of inconsistencies in the plot (why can Michael, in the new timeline, remember the old one but Leo cannot?) out of necessity; time-travel plots can never be wholly logical and coherent because they deal with a scenario which is completely illogical (at least in terms of travelling backwards in time).

If you do approach Making History too intelligently, you may not be able to accept the mechanics of the time-travel scenario (there is a box of some sort that looks back in time… that's about the extent of the explanation) or the viability of the alternate universe (just because Nazi Germany conquers all Europe and Russia, that means modern-day USA is a police state outlawing homosexuality and still committed to strict racial segregation? Huh? I don't think Little Rock was dependent on the Munich Putsch…). Most of all, you would be concerned by the light-hearted approach to what is disturbing subject matter; in imagining a world without Hitler that is somehow worse than the one we live in, Fry finds himself in the precarious position of positing Hitler if not as a force for good than certainly as a lesser evil.

The truth is that, even with some slightly bizarre authorial decisions – writing some chapters in the style of a screenplay, and suddenly making the protagonist gay about halfway through the book – I had a lot of fun reading Making History, and would have no reservations about recommending it to someone who thinks it might be their cup of tea. In fact, the only thing I could not forgive was that Fry erroneously claims there were harmonies in The Beatles' song 'Yesterday' (pp368-9). The track was famously a Paul McCartney solo piece in all but name. That aside – and I'm (half-) joking there – I was very pleased with this undemanding light romp. show less

I just finished my first ever Stephen Fry book, “Making History”. Quite shameful really, I am such a big fan of the man, and of his language skills, how could I put of reading his work for so long? Anyway, I picked this book because it involves a form of time travel, which is a subject I always enjoy.
And I loved this book, I could not put it down. Fry has really thought things through, including the common but sad theory that history cannot be changed majorly, a situation will still need to be resolved. Anyway, Fry did a wonderful job, it was a great read. And I loved how he worked in love and relationships, very good. Five out of five stars.

We all know what happens when characters in a novel mess with history, but try they must, especially when they have a chance to prevent Hitler from being born, and so they shall. This is what the protagonists of Making History think and who can argue with such an obvious course of action. Stephen Fry in his third novel comes up with a remarkable narrative construction, which is clever, endearing, smart, intelligent, amazing, and unfortunately grossly under appreciated. Us readers don't remember a novel for its clockwork plot precision, we remember it because we relate to people and the events happening to them.

Without giving too much away, the hero and his sidekick Darwnin-esque-action-professor manage to first screw up history big time show more and then put things back in place with many personal lessons learned concerning life, love and the pursuit of alternate realities.

Does it all work well together? Surely the novel is a great read and highly entertaining, but a there is also a persistent sense that Fry is trying to make a point he can't quite get across. Unfortunately the one obvious message can't be accurate since the reader might have to conclude at the end that we should be glad we had a Hitler because the most likely alternative would have been much worse. Certainly it is arguable that only one possible outcome is presented from a range of historical possibilities. However, other collaborating details, for example the personalities of the other soldiers waiting in the wings besides Hitler in the trenches of World War 1, can not give the reader any other options for seeing how things might have turned out for the better.

Although this novel is written much later than The Liar, it uses surprisingly more primitive narrative constructs, something I wasn't expecting. For example Stephen Fry uses a lot of lists and litanies to get a point across, which is something the Victorians loved to do but which has run its course. Even Helprin in his novel Freddy and Fredericka discovered it doesn't work anymore and has since abandoned it. Fry shows off not only his deep knowledge of World War 2 but also flaunts his linguistic skill by subtly playing with English-isms vs American-isms. A clearer case of temporal plot for occurs when the author clearly points out when we should remember something for later usage. A box of bright orange pills spills on the ground and the owner starts screaming that these are highly dangerous. Surely these pills must be useful for something later in the book. And they are.

It's hard not to like a Fry novel, the man is a really good writer and his plots are quite refreshing, not to mention that his stories are quite entertaining. Making History is an odd one however, it is a quick read of something that felt like it was meant to be something bigger. A recommended read but also pick up some of the author's other novels. show less

With a witty and even profound beginning, and an interesting premise for an alternate history, the story becomes increasingly tenuous and trivial as it accelerates towards its fairy tale ending.

I must be the last person in England to have never read anything by “national treasure” Stephen Fry, but this book came up in conversation recently, so I have now done so. The book had two things I love to read about: time travel and Nazis. The good news is that Fry (surprise!) writes really well, has a good sense of humour and an obvious intelligence. And the point he is making (if there is a point) is that the horrors of the Third Reich were not the work of one man acting alone. He underscores this by referencing Daniel Goldhagen’s book, Hitler’s Willing Executioners, at the end. The bad news is that he needed an editor — the book is overly long with much that could be cut. Still, how wrong could you go with a novel about show more travelling through time to prevent Hitler from being born? show less

Tornare indietro nel tempo per ammazzare Hitler è un topos comune nella letteratura ucronica. Stephen Fry in questo suo romanzo parte da un punto di vista leggermente diverso: il protagonista, che sta per ottenere il dottorato con una tesi sulla storia di Hitler fin da prima della sua nascita, trova un sistema per rendere sterile il padre Alois. Quello che succede è che naturalmente l'universo si riassembla, e Michael si ritrova americano (Mikey...) anziché britannico, in un mondo dove Hitler non c'è ma il nazismo è rimasto, anzi è diventato ancora più forte. Non si può "fare la storia": essa in un modo o nell'altro tenderà a ripresentarsi allo stesso modo, come Michael capirà dopo che gli è stato rivelato il segreto di show more Auschwitz e della Soluzione Finale. Proprio per questo però ci sarà la possibilità di tornare più o meno al passato.
Comprendo la logica di Fry nello scrivere la parte iniziale, ma resto convinto che le prime 150 pagine potevano essere 50 senza grandi problemi; se sopravvivete a un inizio che non sembra andare da nessuna parte, però, poi la storia prende l'abbrivio. Le parti scritte come un copione vanno anche bene: in fin dei conti ti lasciano la possibilità di cambiare passo al testo. show less