Abstract

For many years, Greg Clark was mainly known amongst economic historians for two things - his devesting book reviews are as witty as they are insightful. He also invented a signature recipe for academic articles. Start with a fresh puzzle. Chop some theory and carefully knead into puzzle. Gently squeeze some data and mix well. Garnish with a racy dressing of Cambridge-honed essay-writing skills, while stirring the pot. Then, turn up the heat and watch how the puzzle slowly mushrooms into an ever larger paradox. Wrap into some mystery and serve as is. Given these two proclivities, news that Greg Clark was writing a book caused a bit of a stir. There were those who expected that the right to review the book would be auctioned off on Ebay, with high bids by Graham Snooks and the friends of Walt Rostow. Others predicted that a book by Greg would turn into a mega-mystery maze manuscript - one out of which the author himself could not possibly emerge with proofs in hand. As it turns out, the book hit the bookshelves quite quickly. What started out as lecture notes (which Greg Clark lent me when I was a struggling visiting professor, trying to prepare my first course on European economic history) has turned into a handsome 420-page tome - just big enough not to be suspected of being pop scholarship, and still small enough to be taken down to the beach or onto the next interminable flight. It is the latest contribution in the distinguished Princeton University Press economic history series, edited by Joel Mokyr. Instead of having to outbid each other for the right to review the book, there are actually opportunities to offer one's views galore. After the New York Times correspondent Nicolas Warde discovered the book and wrote about it with the eye-catching headline 'In dusty archives, a theory of affluence', a staggering number of reviews have appeared. From the Atlantic Monthly to the Economist and the Suddeutsche Zeitung , journalists, economic historians and economists have dissected the book's merits. It clearly touched a nerve. For months, the blogosphere has been alive with commentary, criticism and rebuttal. Works with such wide appeal only come along once a decade or so. Not since Jared Diamond's Guns, Germs and Steel has a single book on economic history been discussed so vigorously, by so many.

Full Text
Published version (Free)

Talk to us

Join us for a 30 min session where you can share your feedback and ask us any queries you have

Schedule a call