Dance of the Furies. Europe and the Outbreak of World War I, by Michael S. Neiberg. Cambridge, Massachusetts, Harvard University Press, 2011. 292 pp. $29.95 US (cloth). This well-researched and well-written, though at times unnecessarily repetitive, book makes six (6) key arguments. Firstly, few Europeans expected, let alone wanted, a war in 1914. More important issues--the murder trial of Henriette Caillaux in France, the Home Rule crisis and the suffragette movement in Great Britain, the strike wave in Russia, and the recent electoral gains of the SPD in Germany--preoccupied them. Furthermore, the recent tragedy at Sarajevo was not the first example of political violence in the Balkans. Previous crises, there and elsewhere, had been resolved peacefully. Why would things be different this time, in the wake of murders thought of primarily in personal rather than political terms? And last, but not least, guarantee of peace: was not a recently emerging international socialist movement, with threat of a general strike, an important force against war? Such certainty that a diplomatic solution would be found and that a continental war would be avoided explains their sadness, their fear, and their shock at outbreak. Secondly, gender, class, and ethnicity were as important as nationality in apprehending the wartime experiences of individuals and groups. Thirdly, Europeans accepted the necessity of war because they saw it as a defensive and existential one, waged against aggressive and barbaric invaders, who threatened their homelands. Tales of violence and stories of atrocities, whether real or embellished, naturally fueled genuine hatred and a desire for vengeance and convinced them that their cause--just and righteous--was worth fighting for. Had not the foe failed to respond to the sincere efforts of their own government to avoid the conflict? Satisfied then that the intentions of their respective government had been peaceful, civilians and soldiers rallied to the flag. Indeed, given such frightening prospects of invasion and occupation, who could legitimately refuse to fight a war that could likely determine a nation's future survival? Even the International Socialist Bureau embraced, in late July 1914, the concept of a justifiable struggle against an aggressive enemy. Fourthly, by the end of 1914--the year that witnessed both the highest casualty rates of any year of the war and some serious allegations of mismanagement and corruption--many Europeans had already become disenchanted with the lofty rhetoric of shared sacrifices and national unity and with the official explanations offered by their governments to justify their entrance into and continuation of the war. Fifthly, Europeans realized quite early that their presumption of a short war--one that explains, if not their enthusiasm, at least their determination in responding to the call to arms--had been inaccurate. A sense of disillusionment, nourished by the lack of decisive victories on land and at sea, set in fairly rapidly among soldiers and civilians. Indeed, Neiberg argues, the massive numbers of dead and wounded as well as the pitiful sight of hundreds of thousands of civilians, who found themselves in the path of enemy armies and who, as refugees, flooded the roads of Europe at the very beginning of the hostilities, brought home the cruel realities of modern warfare, such as its ability to make men feel like sacrificial lambs instead of heroes (p. 189). As a result, the high idealism of the opening days of August 1914 became yet another casualty of war. Finally, despite their concerns, doubts, and suspicions, Europeans kept fighting. They did so, not just because the two sides could not find any common ground for a negotiated settlement, but also in order to avenge the enormous human and material losses suffered, to remove the real threats to their lives that the presence of foreign armies represented, and out of an awareness that anything short of total victory or total defeat was unthinkable. …