The Basque History of the World by Mark Kurlansky

I bought this book a long time ago—before I spent eight months studying aboard in Spain. Yet like a lot of books I bought back then, I never read it. I let it sit on a shelf—admiring its cover and feeling ashamed. But one of my goals this year is to read books that have been sitting on my shelf a long time, plus lately I’ve felt nostalgic for my time in Spain and especially Basque Country/País Vasco/Euskadi.

Compared to the last non-fiction book I read, this was a breeze to get through. Almost too breezy. I’ve never read Mark Kurlansky before, but I’ve heard of Salt. What caught me off guard was his overly conversational style and editorializing. He would be talking about Franco and mention what a crook and liar and terrible person he was. Which—granted—he was. But it’s a change in tone and style I haven’t encountered in a “history” book before. I’m not sure I like it. If the whole book had that angle, I’d be okay with it. But it’s just a few off-handed comments and jabs here and there mixed in with a factual history book and it felt weird.

What I enjoyed most about this book are the small nuggets of history. You can learn about the bullet points of the big events from Wikipedia, but what I appreciated were small moments, either from historical record or from his own experience while researching the book. These anecdotes brought me closer to the people and culture of Euskadi, like the recipes he includes throughout the book gathered from talking to people in Euskadi.

The book does live up to its title. Basques are considered the oldest Europeans, so their history is European history—and they’ve played a role in almost all of it. They were mercenaries, and were hired by the Carthaginians, crossing the Alps with Hannibal. They were expert shipbuilders, and traveled just as far as the Vikings, perhaps even making it to North America before Columbus and John Cabot did.

The second half of the book focuses on the 20th century: the Spanish Civil War, the Franco years, and beyond. The main focus of parts two and three is Basque as a nation and promoting and defending that nation through a revitalization of Basque culture starting with Sabino Arana in the late 19th century and continuing to today. This nationalism shows itself most benignly with ikastolas (Basque schools) and promoting Euskera, traditional songs, dances, and ceremonies and the Basque Nationalist Party—but extends to more violent permutations like Euskadi Ta Askatasuna (ETA), similar to the Irish Republican Army.

There are a few references in the book to how Basques are the first capitalists, because of their knack for trade and enterprise. This book is twenty-five years old, and I wonder if the references to Basques being capitalists would be so glowing as they are. Maybe that’s my own political inclinations, but reading those sections had me thinking “that’s not a good thing.”

I’ve long admired Euskadi and Euskaldun (Basque speakers), perhaps because they are the eggs against the wall, like that famous quote from Haruki Murakami. I’m ashamed I didn’t get around to reading this book earlier. I wish I had actually read it before I studied in Spain. I feel like it would have given me a different perspective, or at least gave me some topics to learn about more and focus on more closely while I was there and traveling through Euskadi. It remains my favorite part of Spain. I want to go back there some day. I feel like I’ll be a little more informed the next time.

Highlights

Unlike other books, where my highlights were of the nature of “this is a cool standalone quote,” these are more of things I found interesting or cool and wanted to remember—whether as material for future writings or just nuggets of history.

This is because [sea bream] is associated with Olentzaro, a pre-Christian evil sort of Santa Claus who slides down chimneys on Christmas Eve to harm people in their sleep.

[...] Basques who had migrated to Madrid formed a gastronomic society, they named it Besuguin-a Lagunak, Friends of the Sea Bream.

A Basque assembly, the Juntas Generales, met under an oak tree at Guernica, to legislate and rule on Foral law. [...] Meeting-oaks had been established in several Vizcayan towns but the Guernica sessions, which lasted two or three weeks, became dominant. [...] trumpets were sounded and bonfires lit on the nearby mountaintops.

[Ignatius of Loyola] so overloaded his donkey with books that he had to walk alongside on his damaged leg for two months to reach the capital.

“Violence is not for the fruit it will bear. It is a consequence, an expression.” said Patxi Zabaleta.

“electricity now penetrated to even the smallest village. ... Electricity, telegraph, telephone, automobile, railroad, steam and electric tramways, such are the agents of progress that undermine poetic traditions and turn them into utilitarian prose.”

—Philippe Tissié, physical education teacher, in 1900