Europe in the Round

The Intelligent American’s Guide to Europe By Erik von Kuehnelt-Leddihn Arlington House, 566 pp., $20 The title implies that this emperor-sized book might be a travel guide. By no means: indeed, unless you have already traveled Europe, and care about what it all means, this one will overwhelm you. As the author is quick to point out, nature is far grander elsewhere—it’s the culture you’re paying for. So the more you already know, the more you will appreciate this intellectual Grand Tour. It is loaded with facts, and with opinions that will no doubt challenge many of your own.

The author certainly knows an astounding lot about his subject. From Ireland to the Urals, he leads you through areas famous and obscure, explaining in copious detail how it all looks from the inside. Kuehnelt-Leddihn knows (or can read) some two dozen languages—he confesses that he’s “ignorant” of, say, Turkish or Latvian—and seems to have been everywhere, even Albania, which, he assures the reader, “gives us some idea of what the ancient tenor of life . . . must have been like.” He has a photographic memory and a painter’s eye for detail (he does paint, as a matter of fact).

JM

About the Author

James P. McFadden

Featured Tags

The Intelligent American’s Guide to Europe By Erik von Kuehnelt-Leddihn Arlington House, 566 pp., $20 The title implies that this emperor-sized book might be a travel guide. By no means: indeed, unless you have already traveled Europe, and care about what it all means, this one will overwhelm you. As the author is quick to point out, nature is far grander elsewhere—it’s the culture you’re paying for. So the more you already know, the more you will appreciate this intellectual Grand Tour. It is loaded with facts, and with opinions that will no doubt challenge many of your own.

The author certainly knows an astounding lot about his subject. From Ireland to the Urals, he leads you through areas famous and obscure, explaining in copious detail how it all looks from the inside. Kuehnelt-Leddihn knows (or can read) some two dozen languages—he confesses that he’s “ignorant” of, say, Turkish or Latvian—and seems to have been everywhere, even Albania, which, he assures the reader, “gives us some idea of what the ancient tenor of life . . . must have been like.” He has a photographic memory and a painter’s eye for detail (he does paint, as a matter of fact).