Thomas Piketty's Capital: Live Blog I

We live tweet events so why don't we live blog our books? They may last longer than a Premier League match or election night special, but we read them continuously and their covers bound a discrete event. During their course our support veers between characters or new facts prompt us to change intellectual direction. They ebb and flow like all tweet worthy events.

Capital In The Twenty-First Century by Thomas Piketty is the perfect book for this project. It's long. It requires reflection. And because it's such an unexpected hit, everyone's talking about it but can't get their hands on one to read. So a live blog is like the newspaper reader in an eighteenth-century coffee house telegraphing to his neighbours. Which is where the book begins.

The introduction is properly long, properly academic, and properly structured. "Here's my thesis (wealth, as opposed to capital, generates arbitrary inequalities that undermine democratic society); here's a history and literature review (Malthus-Ricardo-Marx-Kuznets, no Keynes); here why my work is so different and necessary (data integrity and longevity); and here are my sources (tax records)."

And that's only the first half of the introduction. So we're off to a classic start and so far (but I am surrounded by cheering fans at the book office) I'm willing to believe some of the superlatives being thrown at this thing.

As an aside, I recognize the translator Arthur Goldhammer from my days as a medievalist. He's always been excellent, and how many times can you say you're familiar with a particular translator's work? More points then.

a medieval date.

It's the new year. Except maybe it isn't. In the middle ages, it would still have been 2013. And we know this thanks to C.R. Cheney's classic Handbook of Dates for Students of British History.

Because the medieval year often began on March 25. The feast of the Annunciation.

Or on Christmas Day.

Or even on Easter. Which moves every year.

So what year are we in? Well, we would say 2014 anno domini but our medieval forebears would say anno gratiae. Remembering that they're looking forward to a party on March 24 because it's still 2013.

Or we could date by event and say, for example, that we're in the first year of the pontificate of Pope Francis. His pontifical year not beginning until March 13 when he was elected.

And though the calendar has moved forward to 2014, it remains the 62nd regnal year of Queen Elizabeth II. She didn't become queen until February 6. And that's only because we date from her ascension to the throne instead of her coronation.

All clear now?

By the way, according to the Romans today is IV pr. non. Ian in the year 2,767 ab urbe condita.

new year. new books. and some old ones.

Talk at the book office this week was about our goodreads 2013 reading challenges. And, of course, our 2014 goals, when I shamefacedly admitted to a smaller goal in 2014.

A simple 52 books, one for each week of the year.

Why?

I spent too much time last year charging through three-hundred pagers for work. Time to set aside commutes for longer reads like those thick histories I've owned for ten years but never opened.

Which includes continuing starting (it never really got going this year) a medieval reading project. I cannot resist buying those old paperback Penguin Classics. Never read them though. Too indecisive. So I took the decision out of it by simply heading to the beginning of the medieval section - Abelard and Heloise - and planning to read the shelf from left to right. It's like a school uniform: with no choice in clothing, you just got up and got going. Problem solved.

So, longer denser books. Medieval texts. That's a happy new year.