Citius, Altius, Fortius

I have long salivated over stuff that moves fast, turns corners violently and generally looks badarse. For the longest time, this led to a deep fascination with things that fly. Thus, the Supermarine Spitfire. The plane that is frequently, and erroneously, referred to as the plane that won the Battle of Britain. It was not. The plane that did win it, was the much underrated, Hawker Hurricane, and the equally (then) underrated (and in hindsight, unmatched) brilliance of Air Chief Marshal Dowding. But, here, for what it is worth, is the Spitfire. Is it a coincidence that the most beautiful things that fly, created either by the hands of Gawd, or men, are also the most deadly?

Gavin Menzies and why we should not rewrite history.

The study of world history is one of the most important occupations of scholars. There is much to be said for the contemplation and chronicling of the works and thoughts of our fathers. There are two major approaches one can think of (I write here as a complete layman, but one interested in fact and approach). First: history is studied in broad brushstrokes, and is considered to be in dynamic equilibrium with colossal forces of economics and environment. Thus, we study timelines and economics in conjunction with historical developments and try to place them side by side so that they make sense. For instance, the construction of splendid temples in South India during the rise of the Muslim influence in North India in the 15th century coincided with increased patronage of architecture by the ruling Hindu kings. This was also met with an influx of Hindu refugees from the North, amongst them men of skill and knowledge, who, in turn needed employment.

The other approach is that history is the story of human life, and is composed of the stories of individual humans. This personal approach involved the researcher to look back through time and ascribe emotions and aspirations to his subject. This is readily possible if there are enough supporting documents and artifacts. Thus, we have the beautifully researched works of Dominique Lapierre. However, such works are inevitably tinged with the personality of the writer. Such is the nature of the approach. It is my belief that history must be studied in a manner which incorporated elements of both approaches.

Gavin Menzies, a former submariner with the Royal Navy has authored a book called '1421: The Year China Discovered the World'. This can be classified as 'pop history'. It smacks of well researched scholarship. But this impression is rather short lived. Quite soon, the reader discovers that Mr. Menzies is drawing conclusions out of the flimsiest data. He is, in fact writing his own history. What blew me away was the point when he described Malayalam as a dead language. Try telling that to the several million people of Kerala who speak and write it daily. Several scholars have spoken out against Menzies' outrageous interpretation and his unscientific approach. That does not, however do anything to reduce the popularity of the book, I suspect. It appears now, that pop-history, and hideously inaccurate pop-history, at that is worth good money. The wiki entry is here.