Several years ago my brother was working in Geneva, Switzerland, and my daughter and I went to visit him for spring break. Geneva is a lovely city with much to see and do; my hands-down favorite place was the Musee Ariana, a museum of ceramics through the centuries.
A history of the world in teacups sounds unlikely, but that is essentially what the Ariana offers, and it was fascinating. Even my teenaged daughter, who didn't hesitate to share if she was bored, was captivated.
The guidebooks call the Musee Ariana a specialty museum; if it were a book, librarians would call it a microhistory. In a microhistory, the exhaustive examination of something small illuminates the bigger picture of life itself. Seven centuries of porcelain artfully arranged can offer a new perspective on the history of a continent. Often, the most mundane subjects are the most revealing.
One of the earliest microhistories to achieve popular recognition was Henry Petroski's "The Pencil: A History of Design and Circumstance." As an engineer, Petroski was most interested in design but as he demonstrates here, it is "circumstance" – economic, cultural and political – that drives the design.
Petroski went on to write several more microhistories, including "The Evolution of Useful Things" and "The Toothpick: Technology and Culture." In "The Book on the Bookshelf," written in 1999, he fancifully imagines the return of the chained book as digitization of the written word makes the printed and bound artifact more and more precious.
There have always been microhistories, but they became a fully established genre in public libraries in the early years of this decade. Publishers offered us a "Secret Life" or "Cultural History" of just about everything. Food and drink, insects and drugs were especially popular topics. Titles like "Mauve: How One Man Invented a Color That Changed the World" (by Simon Garfield) are indicative.
Obviously, some of these entertaining works are more substantive than others. One of the more important authors of the genre is Mark Kurlansky. Kurlansky's breakthrough best-seller was "Cod: A Biography of the Fish That Changed the World." He has also written about salt, 1968, oysters, food and nonviolence.
His latest work, "The Eastern Stars: How Baseball Changed the Dominican Town of San Pedro de Macoris," has a somewhat smaller scope. It is, nevertheless, illuminating. In 1844, when the Domincan Republic became independent, San Pedro de Macoris was a small fishing port on the southern coast of the country. The surrounding land was flat and fertile, perfect for sugarcane, but no one cared because Cuba and Puerto Rico, utilizing slave labor, were in complete control of the sugar trade.
That began to change in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Most importantly, after World War I destroyed the sugar beet industry in Europe, the United States became interested in the potential for producing sugar in the Dominican Republic. Massive investment followed, and San Pedro de Marcoris found itself at the heart of a sugar boom.
Unfortunately, it didn't last long. By the 1930s the price of sugar was in steady decline. Subsequent efforts at economic development have fared little better, creating an environment of underemployment – everyone works but wages are so low that they remain impoverished. In the days of subsistence farming, people were poor but they ate; now they often work but go hungry. Baseball is their only hope.
This is no pipe dream – 79 baseball players from San Pedro de Marcoris, including, famously, Sammy Sosa, have made it to the Major Leagues. Hundreds more have "signed" and made it into training camps and the minors.
Baseball has been played in the Dominican Republic since 1886. The skills of the early stars were directly related to conditions of life in San Pedro. Anyone who can consistently hit a "baseball" made of socks stuffed in a sock and soaked in water will have no problem with a curve ball. Playing in narrow street zones encourages precision batting and poor nutrition is perfect for producing shortstops: small, fast and wiry.
Things are different now. There are scouts on every corner and several Major League teams run "academies" to feed, educate and develop promising players. Most will go no further, but signing bonuses can be quite large; they bolster the local economy and fuel the dream.
Kurlansky is entertaining, insightful and sensitive. "Eastern Stars" is a baseball book, a social history of the Dominican Republic and a microhistory of hope. A teacup, a wad of socks – they all have a story to tell.
A history of the world in teacups sounds unlikely, but that is essentially what the Ariana offers, and it was fascinating. Even my teenaged daughter, who didn't hesitate to share if she was bored, was captivated.
The guidebooks call the Musee Ariana a specialty museum; if it were a book, librarians would call it a microhistory. In a microhistory, the exhaustive examination of something small illuminates the bigger picture of life itself. Seven centuries of porcelain artfully arranged can offer a new perspective on the history of a continent. Often, the most mundane subjects are the most revealing.
One of the earliest microhistories to achieve popular recognition was Henry Petroski's "The Pencil: A History of Design and Circumstance." As an engineer, Petroski was most interested in design but as he demonstrates here, it is "circumstance" – economic, cultural and political – that drives the design.
Petroski went on to write several more microhistories, including "The Evolution of Useful Things" and "The Toothpick: Technology and Culture." In "The Book on the Bookshelf," written in 1999, he fancifully imagines the return of the chained book as digitization of the written word makes the printed and bound artifact more and more precious.
There have always been microhistories, but they became a fully established genre in public libraries in the early years of this decade. Publishers offered us a "Secret Life" or "Cultural History" of just about everything. Food and drink, insects and drugs were especially popular topics. Titles like "Mauve: How One Man Invented a Color That Changed the World" (by Simon Garfield) are indicative.
Obviously, some of these entertaining works are more substantive than others. One of the more important authors of the genre is Mark Kurlansky. Kurlansky's breakthrough best-seller was "Cod: A Biography of the Fish That Changed the World." He has also written about salt, 1968, oysters, food and nonviolence.
His latest work, "The Eastern Stars: How Baseball Changed the Dominican Town of San Pedro de Macoris," has a somewhat smaller scope. It is, nevertheless, illuminating. In 1844, when the Domincan Republic became independent, San Pedro de Macoris was a small fishing port on the southern coast of the country. The surrounding land was flat and fertile, perfect for sugarcane, but no one cared because Cuba and Puerto Rico, utilizing slave labor, were in complete control of the sugar trade.
That began to change in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Most importantly, after World War I destroyed the sugar beet industry in Europe, the United States became interested in the potential for producing sugar in the Dominican Republic. Massive investment followed, and San Pedro de Marcoris found itself at the heart of a sugar boom.
Unfortunately, it didn't last long. By the 1930s the price of sugar was in steady decline. Subsequent efforts at economic development have fared little better, creating an environment of underemployment – everyone works but wages are so low that they remain impoverished. In the days of subsistence farming, people were poor but they ate; now they often work but go hungry. Baseball is their only hope.
This is no pipe dream – 79 baseball players from San Pedro de Marcoris, including, famously, Sammy Sosa, have made it to the Major Leagues. Hundreds more have "signed" and made it into training camps and the minors.
Baseball has been played in the Dominican Republic since 1886. The skills of the early stars were directly related to conditions of life in San Pedro. Anyone who can consistently hit a "baseball" made of socks stuffed in a sock and soaked in water will have no problem with a curve ball. Playing in narrow street zones encourages precision batting and poor nutrition is perfect for producing shortstops: small, fast and wiry.
Things are different now. There are scouts on every corner and several Major League teams run "academies" to feed, educate and develop promising players. Most will go no further, but signing bonuses can be quite large; they bolster the local economy and fuel the dream.
Kurlansky is entertaining, insightful and sensitive. "Eastern Stars" is a baseball book, a social history of the Dominican Republic and a microhistory of hope. A teacup, a wad of socks – they all have a story to tell.
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