From the Bookshelf of Around the World in 80 Books…

Warts and all... but mostly warts

Waugh's unblinking biography of the Wittgenstein family can be strong medicine for those who (like myself) are looking for a tale of redemption or genius. Here, instead, is a family portrait of an exceedingly mismatched and strained group who happened to be related. The "at war" in the title really refers to the family's war with itself and less so the two world wars in the time period covered.

I can't claim to know much about Ludwig Wittgenstein, the best-known

Warts and all... but mostly warts

Waugh's unblinking biography of the Wittgenstein family can be strong medicine for those who (like myself) are looking for a tale of redemption or genius. Here, instead, is a family portrait of an exceedingly mismatched and strained group who happened to be related. The "at war" in the title really refers to the family's war with itself and less so the two world wars in the time period covered.

I can't claim to know much about Ludwig Wittgenstein, the best-known member of the family, though I had hoped to gain some insight into his philosophy during the course of reading this book. That was not to be, alas, and if Waugh is to be believed, there is not a great deal of coherence to Wittgenstein's philosophical output. I've read a few disgruntled reviews claiming that Waugh's understanding of Wittgenstein is flawed, however. Even so the book does raise an important question: what exactly is the attraction of this strange man? Is it him or his philosophy? Or are the two things so intertwined that the question is rendered meaningless?

My primary motivation for reading this book, however, was not to gain insight into Ludwig Wittgenstein and his brother Paul, who are the primary focus of the book. My fascination is with Vienna and in particular the astonishing blossoming of art, music, philosophy, science, and culture that took place in the city after the turn of the 20th century. Indeed, it is the discussion of this realm that I found most satisfying while reading the book.

I was also quite interested in learning more about Paul Wittgenstein, though like all the Wittgenstein portraits here, Waugh casts him in a cold and unflinching light.

But the thing that was most striking and memorable about this book to me was the tale of a family with ostensibly so much -- so much money, so many talents and gifts -- and yet so little. They tore at each others' souls, held grudges, and in some cases genuinely loathed one another. Even when they held common cause, a "cocktail of pride, honor, and obstinacy stood in the way of any reconciliation," as Waugh put it. It made me consider the misunderstandings and dissension in my own family, of course, but it also brought on a general reflection on what makes people happy or unhappy.

While I was reading this book, I was simultaneously listening to another family memoir set in Vienna during some of the same time period, The Hare With Amber Eyes: A Family's Century of Art and Loss by Edmund de Waal. The contrast between these two books was striking, and at times I found it a bit wrenching to go from one to the other. While members of the Wittgenstein family exhibited a fierce and sometimes self-destructive individuality, de Waal's account of his family is tinged with warmth, humor, and something akin to but better than nostalgia. There was solace and support within the Ephrussi family, and they emerged from the Second World War with less money but more wealth, in a larger sense.

There is, of course, the famous quote by Tolstoy, "Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way." Waugh's analysis of the Wittgenstein family's unhappiness, its own peculiar brand of dysfunction, is difficult to look away from. But it left me with a profound feeling of unease. One contemplates this family and wonders: what chance of happiness have I?