Who hasn’t heard something described as “Machiavellian” before? To me the description has come to mean something that is depraved, evil, despicable, cruel. And of course the mans whose name has become an adjective must be like that too and his book, The Prince, must be filled with unspeakable horrors. That’s how I imagined it anyway. When OneWorld Classics offered me a copy of their new translation of The Prince I was curious enough to want to know whether the reality matched my imagination.
Of course it didn’t. The Prince has got to be one of the dullest well-written books there is. Being a treatise on how to both become a prince and keep your power as a prince, it is straightforwardly calculating. We are talking about power, how to get it, how to use, how to keep it. In the world of Renaissance Italy made up of the shifting alliances of city-states, ruled by families that often made me think “mafia,” this can be a useful little book.
Is there cruelty? Yes. Machiavelli suggests the a prince use only as much cruelty as is necessary to make a point otherwise he will lose the support of the people and find himself in danger of being assassinated and/or overthrown. There certainly is no depravity, but evil, well, I suppose that could be up for debate depending on one’s view of power.
Machiavelli (1469-1527) was your standard Renaissance kind of man. He was interested in music, poetry, theatre, and history and served as a chancery official and diplomat for the city of Florence from 1500-1512 after the Medicis had been (temporarily) ousted from power and Florence established as a Republic. When the Medici’s returned to power, Machiavelli was out of a job. He turned to writing. The Prince was his first book. Written in 1512 (but not published until 1532), he dedicated it to Lorenzo de Medici, Duke of Urbino, hoping the Medici’s would sort out Italy’s problems and maybe provide Machiavelli with some employment in the process. He didn’t get the political employment that he had hoped for, but he was commissioned in 1520 by the Medici Pope Clement VII to write a history of Florence. He finished it just in time in 1526 because a year later the Medicis were overthrown again and a month after that Machiavelli died.
Throughout The Prince Machiavelli uses examples taken from Italian politics and history and when he can’t get it there he scours Roman, Greek and Persian history. He uses these examples to illustrate and provide a sort of proof to his arguments. Here is a prince who used mercenaries in his army and see how ill it went for him. Here is a prince who had his own army and refused to use mercenaries, see what success he had. He was successful because of X, Y, and Z.
Of course there is quite a lot of murder and war involved in attaining and keeping power. For instance, if your arrival at prince is not obtained through heredity, you had to reach the heights through political maneuvering and rising through the ranks of the military. Once the title of prince is yours, it behooves you, says Machiavelli, to kill every member of the ousted ruling family. If you do not, it is only a matter of time before the few surviving members gather enough power back to themselves and end your reign. And of course once you are a prince, you might have to make an example of someone from time to time just to remind everyone who is in charge. And then there is the matter of strategic alliances and going to war to get more property. Because when it comes down to it, a prince’s real job is the military. One must either be leading his men out to war or preparing his men for war should you be lucky enough to have some peace.
Perhaps it should be of no surprise that even though the book is about being a prince, there were things that rang out now and then as sounding very corporate. And why not? I suppose in America at least, the heads of large corporations act like princes and while there may only be metaphorical wars and murders, companies get “taken over” and people get “axed” all the time. And tell me if this doesn’t sound like something you’ve experienced at work before:
And it should be borne in mind that there is nothing more difficult to arrange, nor more doubtful of success, nor more dangerous to carry out, than to be the master and introduce new procedures; because he who introduces them makes enemies of those who benefited from the old order, while all those who would benefit from the new measures will be lukewarm in supporting him. This lack of enthusiasm comes partly from their fear of their adversaries, who have the law on their side, and partly from men’s lack of faith, since men do not really put any trust in new things until they have experienced them; so it comes about that any time one’s enemies have an opportunity to attack, they do so with a partisan spirit, while the defenders have no enthusiasm, with the result that they, together with their prince, are endangered.
Or how about this less bloodthirsty piece of advice that we can all agree with:
one can never avoid one drawback without running into another; wisdom consists in being able to recognize the kinds of drawbacks and choose the least bad.
Even though my lack of Italian history made reading The Prince a challenge and forced me to constantly rely on the marvelous notes on the text (at the end of the book instead of footnotes, grr), and I am sure my lack also kept me from grasping some of the more nuanced examples, I am still glad I read the book. I finally know what it is about and Machiavelli no longer sits among my personal pantheon of evil crazy people. I must confess, however, that a small part of me is a bit disappointed that I will no longer be able to imagine what twisted atrocities might reside in the book. I’m not sure what that says about me, but there you go.
Common evil, when not just petty, is generally utilitarian–not amazingly hack-up-orphans-for-jollies type evil.
Everything subverted to power.
Very true, evil is often quite banal.
Poor Stefanie! I suffered through syllabus-imposed Prince at school and… well, I could have warned you but apparently you appreciated it more than I did at the time.
Smithereens, it wasn’t exactly lively reading and my eyes did occasionally droop, but over all I did find it to be interesting. I don’t think I would have liked it much if I had been forced to read it.
‘Of course it didn’t. The Prince has got to be one of the dullest well-written books there is. ‘ – lol!! I haven’t read this myself, and one of the great beauties of the blogworld is that my dear friends read books so that I don’t have to…. Back to Neil Gaiman and Shirley Jackson, right?
Litlove, isn’t it weird how well written things can be dull sometimes? And I agree, I very much appreciate other bloggers reading books I want to know about but don’t want to read. Maybe I should come up with a list sometime of books I’d like other people to read for me.
“one of the dullest well-written books there is” That is so funny! Thanks for your honest appraisal. I intent to read this someday. It’s good to know what to expect at little bit!
I too get frustrated with endnotes. I always wish for footnotes. So much easier!
I like your comparison to Corporate America. That makes the entire concept sound pretty universal.
Rebecca, just don’t expect anything to get your blood boiling or keep you up at night and you will be fine when you come to read the book. And it is short so it makes getting through it easy.
I haven’t read the book in years but I recall getting a A on a paper on it in college when I suggested it’s really meant to be satirical. Everyone takes it so seriously and I think he meant it to be funny. I recall some scholarship on the point as well.
Karen, satirical, really? Now that possibility puts a new twist on things.
Ahhh, I had rather good memories of it, but I think it shone because of the other books I was supposed to read at the same time for a philosophy class on “power” (I was 17): Marx, Nietzsche, and… Pascal, maybe? Machiavelli was the only one I could even finish!
Charlote, Machiavelli is marvelously succinct compared to the others you had to read at the same time. No wonder he was the only one you got through. I think I would have been in the same boat!
I can’t say that this book has been on my TBR list but you actually make it sound very interesting, Stefanie!
Iliana, oh it is interesting and I suppose if you wanted to make it really interesting you could comb it through and update the examples to modern days. But that might be too sad or scary so maybe just go with history.
To me, one of the most interesting/poignant things about Machiavelli’s story is that even though his name has come to stand for manipulative scheming for personal power, he worked for the Florentine Republic, and was exiled when the more monarch-like Medicis overthrew the Republic and returned to power. So I never know whether to read The Prince straight, or as a satire, or an accusation. Wondering about that helps me get through some of the particularly dull passages.
Emily, you and Karen both mention the book as satirical. I’ve never heard of it framed that way but it makes me quite intrigued. I am going to have to look up some articles that talk about it in that framework, you’ve got me curious!
http://www.idehist.uu.se/distans/ilmh/Ren/flor-mach-mattingly.htm
http://prelimsandbeyond.wordpress.com/tag/machiavelli/
http://www.archive.org/stream/machiavellicynic010352mbp/machiavellicynic010352mbp_djvu.txt
Actually this sounds sort of interesting, but then that could be simply your description of it rather than the book itself. Maybe I’ll just save your post and skip the book?
Stefanie, in The Prince you have tackled a daunting book, and prevailed. I’ve always thought of the term “Machiavellian” as meaning suppressive or oppressive. Your review has shed a lot of light on deeper nuances of the word.
And one other thing your excellent review highlights for me personally:
I could not be a very effective “prince.”
Nope.
I could not be the prince killing others, or asserting my power. I would be the potential prince RUNNING LIKE HELL from the other guy trying to kill me.
Here’s the thing about “The Prince” – I thought it was really interesting. I liked the matter-of-fact way that Machiavelli went about things and how he was basically saying his stuff without trying to be literary. Sure, it’s pretty dull reading at times but I personally found the history and the politics of the book to be fascinating. I finished reading “The Prince” and then dove into “The Discourses” (which I found to be better written, incredibly interesting and most readable). And then I realized that Machiavelli is always painted as this really sneaky, evil guy. Nope. He was just kind of the original political blogger. Go figure.
Anyways, really interesting to read your review. It makes me want to reread all my Machiavellis…
I’m sure I’ve read this, or at least bits of it, but I can’t really remember where. It’s maybe better experienced in short excerpts, so that you can get an idea of what “Machiavellian” really means without having to read the whole thing? Anyway, it IS such an important concept, I can see that it would be satisfying to know a little more of the source.
It’s interesting how everyone has a slightly different idea of what kind of evil “Machiavellian” applies to — I always thought it applied to the manipulative sort of evil, with a nuance of overly complex plotting.
Thanks for the resources about it being satirical – I never heard of that hypothesis either.