Why Napoleon?

Why the sudden interest in Napoleon? Well, it’s not really sudden, and there are a couple of reasons for the interest. Three, actually.

The oldest dates back almost a quarter of a century. In one of my collegiate phases I attended night school, and had to take a World History class. The instructor was a pudgy, middle-aged introverted guy with a bad perm, who sat at his desk the entire ninety-minute class and stream-of-consciousness riffed on whatever historical personage or theme was peripheral to the chapter we were supposed to be studying according to the rarely followed syllabus. Most of the other students hated him, but I actually enjoyed it, and would probably place this course in the top ten of my favorite college classes.

When World History ended, I found myself hungry for more. I read a little bit about the French Revolution from the textbook (which we never read in class). This led me to pick up a small biography of Robespierre. Now there was one sick dude. A man who loved cats but hated people. A psychopathic Sheldon Cooper out to perpetually avenge not being elected class president in grade school.

Anyway, my next foray was Napoleon. The chubby history professor had mixed feelings about the French leader, but tended to the slightly positive, and that intrigued me. So I picked up a hefty biography sometime around the spring of 1996 and read it cover to cover, unable to put it down. This surprised me, for up until then I really only read fiction (I was probably at the tail end of my Tom Clancy phase). I found a healthy admiration in the man, though I was probably influenced by an overtly pro-Napoleon author.

Years went by.

Twenty or so.

Bored with my day job and with a new born at home, I looked for a way to stimulate my mind, and came across the unique program of literary self-torture of reading through Hegel’s philosophy. I found a thick paperback omnibus of the German thinkers thought and waded through it over four long months. Probably only understood a tenth of what I read (German philosophy in translation will do that to you), so I needed other works to decipher what his pen was trying to convey to me.

In an introduction to one such book, the writer described young Hegel fleeing the war-torn city of Jena, Austria, pages of his philosophy manuscript fluttering about, just as French forces have entered through the main gates. Then the philosopher catches sight of Napoleon triumphantly approaching on horseback – the Great Man of Destiny forecasted in the writings clutched in his ink-stained hands – and realizes this is one such World Soul that moves History, in the flesh. Such was the way Hegel thought. I think.

More years go by.

This time, about five.

Started reading Civil War books. After three or four, one recurring theme popped out at me: how much Napoleon influenced the military tactics of (at least) the early battles. All of the West Point generals studied the French leader as well as tactician Antoine Jomini, who served under Napoleon, and put his well-tested theories into practice. Also, I realized how many Civil War leaders (particularly the generals who floundered for Lincoln) failed to implement Napoleonic ideas. Especially the idea that one need not capture the enemy’s capital city to win a war; one must only destroy the enemy’s main armed force. How much hair Lincoln must’ve pulled out of his head trying to get that simple point across to McClellan, Halleck, Burnside, Hooker, et. al.

Sometime last summer I decided to re-read that Napoleon bio I first read in 1996. But I couldn’t find it! I never logged the author or title, and searching through the internet card catalogs, nothing jumped out at me. So after examining some biographies on Amazon, I settled on Roberts’ one. I’ve been diligently at it since March 15, and as of today I have about 140 pages to go. Look to finish it by mid-week.

So there is a motive to my madness, even if I need 675 words to spell it out …