About the book
Hannibal and me*
Timeless lessons about life, success and failure
Publisher: Riverhead
Publication: 2011. Exact date TBA.
Here is a 14-minute “teaser” talk about my book that I gave in Berkeley in March 2010 at one of our (The Economist‘s) conferences:
Teaser (not synopsis):
MEET with triumph and disaster and treat those two impostors just the same. So a father tells his son in If, a beautiful poem by Rudyard Kipling. The line shot into my head one day as I was jogging in a park near my home, and it stayed there. Even though I had read the poem decades ago in school and promptly forgotten it, this one phrase suddenly resurfaced and offered to explain my life. Then I thought about the lives of other people. People I knew, people I read about, people famous and people obscure, people alive and people long dead. With his two impostors, Kipling had clearly put his finger on a (or the) classic storyline: 1) Life is about reversal. 2) How somebody responds to triumph and disaster, success and failure, ups and downs, is that person’s most important trait.
I’ll get to the life of Hannibal in a moment (obviously), but first just think of some other people that you may be more familiar with. Lance Armstrong discovered in his twenties that he had testicular cancer, lost one testicle, fought through chemotherapy, faced death, and then came back to win the Tour de France seven times. Steve Jobs got fired from his own company, Apple, at the age of thirty, then spent a lonely decade in quasi-exile before coming back to Apple and leading it to its (and his) greatest successes yet, because of what had happened to him during that decade in the wilderness. Eleanor Roosevelt was cleaning up her husband’s stuff one day when she found bundles of love letters between him, Franklin Delano Roosevelt, and her own social secretary, Lucy Mercer. Her “bottom dropped out” of her life, as she would recall, but the very same disaster also forced her to “face the world honestly for the first time” and made her arguably the most successful woman of the twentieth century.
Then there are people like Albert Einstein, who broke through intellectual barriers at the age of twenty-six, and again at thirty-seven, but then entered a strange conceptual prison for the rest of his life, as if his success had killed off the same powers of imagination that had produced it. Tennessee Williams finally scored a smash hit with his play The Glass Menagerie and found himself living in a luxury suite of a hotel, not thrilled but panicking at what he called this “catastrophe of success”. Meriwether Lewis became an American hero with his partner William Clark for exploring the wilderness of the Louisiana Purchase, received a huge reward from President Jefferson and became governor of the new territory, but soon drank himself into oblivion, failed in his new office and committed suicide in a sordid Tennessee tavern.
In short, impostors everywhere. Triumphs that become, indeed cause, disasters. Failures that turn into, and enable, successes. What to make of such stories? What do they mean for our own lives?
My book explores the two impostors through a sort of composite biography in which the main story is the astounding tale of Hannibal, the Carthaginian general who, twenty-two centuries ago, led an army of elephants and African and Spanish warriors over the Alps to invade the land of his enemies, the Romans. He beat the Alps, and then the Romans, again and again, in three of the greatest battle victories in human history. He personified success in every way, and for fifteen years roamed around Italy undefeated, and indeed seemingly invincible.
Yet this same Hannibal ended up losing the war and his country, and spent his final decades in foreign courts of exile before committing suicide by drinking poison. A generation later, the Romans sailed over to his city, Carthage, and razed it to the ground so thoroughly that modern archeologists had quite a time just locating the site. What had happened to him along the way? Was it inevitable? Was there a mistake that we can learn from?
Hannibal’s story is also the story of his enemies. One was Fabius, an old Roman senator nicknamed Warty for the big wart on his lip, who was in every way the opposite of the dashing Hannibal. Fabius was the first– indeed for a time the only–Roman who understood that Hannibal’s triumphs–Rome’s disasters–might be impostors, provided that the Romans did the right thing. The Romans did not do the right thing and ignored Fabius. And more disaster followed. Eventually, they listened to Fabius, and their fate changed. What did Fabius know that we too ought to know?
The other was Scipio, a handsome and sophisticated Roman aristocrat who was in many ways a younger version of Hannibal. Scipio began his adult life witnessing one disaster after another. He fought on the losing side of Hannibal’s battles. His father and uncle, both Roman generals, were killed fighting against Hannibal’s brothers.
But just when it seemed that he had lost everything, Scipio felt an invigorating and paradoxical sense of freedom. He picked up from where Fabius had left off. He did not hate Hannibal but studied him. Then he changed the game, by turning old situations upside down. He would become Rome’s greatest hero, and ironically a deep but ambiguous friend of Hannibal. But his success too would be an impostor, and he would die in the same year as Hannibal, also in internal exile. What would Scipio tell us about the impostors in our lives? What do all these people want us to know?
Trackbacks
- *Why the book does not have a title yet « The Hannibal Blog
- Impostor Disaster, part I: Steve Jobs « The Hannibal Blog
- The end of book publishing? Part I « The Hannibal Blog
- The end of book publishing? Part II « The Hannibal Blog
- *Why the book does not have a title yet « The Hannibal Blog
- Andreas Kluth on Hannibal, Success & Failure | Indicast Podcast Network
- Cloud Computing | Imageinme's Blog
Since we’re in the age of self-help mania, I suggest: “How to learn from Hannibal’s mistakes”.
Nick Hornby succumbed to this temptation with “How to be Good”, and sold a great many more books that way, he said, in an interview.
Since it’s non-fiction, though, you probably need something grandiose and eye-catching in front of the “how to” bit. Perhaps: “Digesting the elephant of success”.
I hear you, Helen.
In fact, there was one publisher, especially known for self-help books, who had an interest in the book during the bidding, and I had to contemplate going in that direction. I just can’t do it! Option a): Go for the banal, vulgar and cliche, and (maybe) sell lots of books. Option b): Write a great book–subtle, sophisticated, witty–but (maybe) not sell a lot of books.
I’m still hoping that this is a false dichotomy (there must be a way to write a non-corny book that sells well). But it scares me. I’ll be posting lots more about this in due course.
For now, Helen, consider “Digesting the Elephant of Success” formally entered into the contest….
Stuff the title and the number of books sold. Write a great book!! I ALMOST want to buy your book. The whole concept that it is the response to the hardest circumstances and times in our lives that makes us who we are, a liability or a hero, is a seriously powerful concept. One that I, like so many millions of others, have had to live out of most of my life, and now for the rest of it, and one the self help crowd just love. Except they always make a basic mistake, the same one you have in fact. Being an imposter, being true to yourself, being a success in your own life, and being seen as a success or imposter by others and history are all completely different things, and some rely on variables beyond even the knowledge, let alone the control, of any person. Second you seem to have missed Rudyard Kipling’s point, that they are imposters both, simply because they are the opinions of others and usually with only a smattering of facts, at that!! Besides Hannibal and his brothers were not the imposters, Carthage and her ruling classes were. The reason Hannibal had to spend so long in Italy and made so many trips back to Carthage, in person away from battle, or through his brothers, was because Carthage with held too much support and money at critical times so all Hannibal could do, was to bleed Rome using a rag tag army made of escaped slaves and small bands of resistance fighters, so to speak. This is why Hannibal is considered a “TRULY GREAT” leader even though he was ultimately unsuccessful, unlike some other so called great leaders who were greatly successful. I believe you will be doing yourself, your book and your ideas a great disservice if you mix this all up, but feel completely safe in the knowledge that Hannibal will not be considered an imposter even if you do, but you might be, and this would be a shame. I think from what I have read on your site, that you have much more to offer and have some great insights. Don’t ruin them.
Thanks for these extensive thoughts, Steve. But just to be clear: Nobody is calling Hannibal (or Fabius, or Scipio) an impostor. Instead, like Kipling, I am calling their Triumphs and Disasters impostors. That’s different. Their successes were not what they seemed, and neither were their failures.
What I find most fascinating about Hannibal’s story is that he could win, win, win (and I have an entire chapter just about his winning), and yet not benefit from his successes at all.
And the Romans could lose, lose, lose, and yet our government buildings today have Roman columns, not Carthaginian ones.
So: the victories on one side, and the defeats on the other, were impostors.
The fact that the people behind this story, especially Hannibal and Scipio, were among the most fascinating, complex, and genius individuals in all of history makes the story so much better.
Suspended from their overarching narrative, we then meet all these other people in our own time who have an episode in their lives that fits one of the themes I explore.
So, don’t give up on the book yet. Check back in in a few months, and I’m pretty sure that you’ll be intrigued. It’s more subtle than you might think….
Above all, you get a fist bump for being a fellow Hannibal fan. He (and Scipio) were the greatest!
Thanks for the reply, and Im really glad I misunderstood! You now have a sale waiting in Australia. I like the way you think!
Please let me know when your book is in print.
Good luck with it.
Steve.
P.S. Was it that obvious Im a big fan of Hannibal and his family? Yes when I reread that spiel I did jump to their defence quite a bit didnt I, sorry.
Wrote about the Carthaginian recently. May have gotten some of my facts wrong. Maybe I could send you the piece? No one really did win in the Second Punic War, did they? Looking forward to reading your work once it hits the bookstores.
P.S.: Wonderin’ what it takes to write & publish a book. (No worries, ain’t gonna steal your ideas. Plannin’ on some work on the War Between the States.
Its very Greek… If the dog does not bite you on entry it is supposed to bite as you exit. Take your pick between a comedy and a tragedy.
Life is always a surprise. You expect no success from being broken, no down when you are up.
The flat line belongs to death on the monitor. The equal and opposite should be expected. Not a pleasant outlook for a man at the peak of success but a hopeful reminder for the broken heart.
It is the story about the ring that makes the happy man sad and the sad man happy. The ring has an engraving on the inside: “This too shall pass”. Whoever looks at it becomes sad or joyous according to his present condition.
You sound like Herodotus, Exuvia.
Andreas,
Should be “through the ‘eye’ of Hannibal the Carthaginian” Shurely?
…and don’t forget “Hannibal Brooks” that had a happy ending!
Andreas,
Should be “through the ‘eye’ of Hannibal the Carthaginian” Shurely?
…and don’t forget “Hannibal Brooks” – that had a happy ending!
My god, Paul H., I can’t believe I didn’t catch that until now.
Fixed and acknowledged.
Thank you!
The book sounds intriguing. A long, long time ago I was bought Liddell Hart’s biography of Scipio. It remains the most read book in my house. And Scipio and Hannibal’s meeting on the eve of Zama – assuming it really happened – the most speculated upon event in my family. Surely the most epic meeting in ancient history. Looking forward to reading your book.
Nick
Welcome, Nick. You’re the kind of reader I treasure.
Liddell Hart is of course an important part of my bibliography.
And that meeting between H and S at Zama is one I make a lot of in the narrative. Also their second meeting, at Ephesus when they are old. I know there are doubts about whether both meetings actually happened, but i simply give Livy the benefit of the doubt and have fun with it.
Andreas,
I’ve been away from your site for awhile but synchronistically I’ve come back and look what I found, your lively discussion and wonderful talk about heroes and modern day heroes. My daughter, Katie Brant, was a modern day hero and mine as well. She had free-will – as we all do – whether or not our lives co-inside with a myth or a destiny.
Katie was given an overwhelming challenge which she met valiantly, fearlessly and always with a greater good in mind. I witnessed her bravery early on when she marched down the hallway of Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia toward the gurney for her first brain surgery. She was only 18 years old. As Katie waved goodbye she told us not to worry because “God wasn’t done with her yet.” Katie was self-possessed, a character strength she consistently exhibited during the many years of daunting treatments, especially after she heard more bad news about her cancer. “We’ll manage it.”
Katie was very intelligent. During the early days of her diagnosis and treatments, while an undergraduate at The University of Pennsylvania, she enrolled in a medical school class to research her own brain tumor. In the bibliography of her text book she saw a doctor sited who specialized in her type of tumor: anaplastic astrocytoma. Days later she boarded a train to New York to meet him. Of course he became her oncologist because everybody always said yes to Katie; she was engaging, spirited, and charming. She was also beautiful and light hearted especially when she kidded me about my “Deep Thoughts” then laughed hysterically when I gave her another one.
Katie faced Sisyphean challenges again and again after being diagnosed with a brain tumor the size of a fist, a disease which turned chronic and required more and more treatments. Up she pushed the bolder then back down it rolled month after month, year after year. Sometimes her doctors reported wonderful news, “Good MRI, Katie, we think we got the tumor.” Six months later the news turned bad, “Your last MRI shows the tumor is back, Katie; we recommend more surgery.” In all, Katie had five brain surgeries, two stem cell transplants, and a life-time’s dose of chemotherapy, radiation therapy and several experimental therapies. She agreed to undergo the experimental ones not because she believed they would help her but because she felt the data might help young children with brain tumors.
Katie’s attitude was so much about “the big picture.” Indeed, so mythological. During the ten years she battled her cancer she never questioned “why me?” often saying how little children and their families had it far worse. Her optimism and confidence had no room for insecurity and nothing ever stopped her from consciously exploring what was really important to her life’s purpose. Yes, the free will to choose to be conscious! Even during her treatments she always thought about how she could help others which led her to researching cause-related marketing (this links a charity to a corporate sponsor). She was excited about this idea and pitched it at the new position she just landed with Time, Inc. Her passion and belief in putting the two ideas together soon earned Katie the title “Cause-Related Marketing Specialist.” Katie was a true pioneer in this endeavor and her promotion paved the way to land her dream job as National Director of Corporate Marketing for UNICEF. Oh Yoda would have loved her so.
But when Katie’s health deteriorated and she couldn’t manage by herself anymore, she returned home with her dad and me and established her own non-profit foundation, Katie’s Kids for the Cure. Many days she worked long hours from her bed, too sick and exhausted to be walking around. Few people even knew because Katie wasn’t given to having everyone else feel bad because of her plight.
Katie was the sweetest, most loving and confident woman I’ve ever known. She helped anyone who needed her. She was deeply loved by absolutely everyone who knew her, especially me. Yes, my daughter Katie was and is my hero. She lived the life not just of a modern day hero but of a modern day saint and I suspect that one day she will have that title and not just in her mother’s heart but in the world’s heart, too.
I won’t stay away as long this time and I look forward to the publication of your book!
Your USA PA friend,
MJ
What a moving account of your daughter’s brave response, Mary Jane. She does sound like a heroine — and so do you, a mother who seems to have borne the unbearable.
I will reflect on this story a lot.
best, A
Andreas,
Thank you for saying that. We were a complete team, Katie Persephone and I Demeter and yes, taken to the underworld she was and I searched as the mad woman in every sense of the word.
But hopefully we all learn to accept the life that is in front of us and find the joy, despite the Job.
MJ
Doubt you still need more examples but Van Gogh, Charlie Chaplin, Melville, Edgar Allen Poe & Kafka also fit the profile you describe in one way or another. As of course does Elvis
Great examples indeed. I’ve been looking into them a bit.
Thanks, Scott.
Checking out your blog now….
Your book sounds very interesting. I’m intrigued with Hannibal/Roman history and archetypes and social patterns of all kinds. I found your blog when I Googled “ur-story” while researching the differences between structuralist and post-structuralist cultural anthropology. Thanks. Hope you find an engaging book title for your book.
Thanks, Angela.
My guess is that my post on the Ur-Story probably didn’t help you figure out the differences between structuralist and post-structuralist cultural anthrop0logy. What are those, by the way?
Anthony Trollope famously said: Success is the necessary misfortune of life, but it is only to the very unfortunate that it comes early. Clever man.
This seems to be the problem faced by more than a couple of your examples.
At first, I felt a twinge of feminist crankiness that your one example who is a woman (Eleanor) finds her failure (naturally) in her relationship with her husband. We know so little, I suppose, about the other important failures that women face. But maybe these private failures are the most devastating for all of us. I did, afterall, come across your site having googled “sprezzatura yeats” — I was looking for some thoughts on the poem Adam’s Curse. And, indeed, the long unrequited love that Yeats had for Maud Gonne was a type of failure that resulted in wildly spectacular poems.
Great quote by Trollope. I might use it.
Lest you get too cranky too quickly (I do make most people cranky eventually, but I try to ramp up slowly) there are other women in my book, and their successes and failures have nothing to do with spouses. Amy Tan, to name one.
If the men outnumber the women, it is largely because all my main characters (ie, in the narrative that runs throughout the book) are from ancient history, and the ancients showed so little interest in women that they did not even write about them. Plutarch: 0 women. Polybius, Livy, Appian ….: 0 women.
But you’re supposed to see the stories as metaphors that apply to women just as well.
Now, if you feel like it, fill us in on Yeats and Maud Gonne. I haven’t the foggiest.
Mr. Trollope, I’m sure, would be pleased to be referenced in your book.
As for Yeats, I imagine that multiple spurned marriage proposals left him a little dejected:
http://www.suite101.com/article.cfm/travel_in_ireland/98478
Not Maud’s fault though, as there was no other Troy for her to burn. And the wonderful result is so many beautiful poems, poems that make many of us swoon, especially those of us who master the art of metaphor so that stories can apply to us as well.
So, when does the book hit the shelves? We can only hope that it’s an abysmal failure so that you may recover and enjoy a life rich in success!
Cheers!
I’m just finishing what might be the last draft now (depending on the editor) and then I’m guessing early 2011.
Since you’re a cheeky little thing, and one who savors metaphor, you might enjoy it.
Which would lead to my failure.
Thank you for reminding me to re-read the tale of Scipio Africanus and Hannibal, Andreas… although at present, I’m more concerned with the start of Carthage’s history, than with its ultimate demise!
Ah yes, Dido. Well, she got off to a good start….