The New Machiavelli — Niccolo Machiavelli — John Shaqi
The New Machiavelli
Niccolo Machiavelli · en
THE NEW MACHIAVELLI
by H. G. Wells
CONTENTS
BOOK THE FIRST
THE MAKING OF A MAN
I. CONCERNING A BOOK THAT WAS NEVER WRITTEN
II. BROMSTEAD AND MY FATHER
III. SCHOLASTIC
IV. ADOLESCENCE
BOOK THE SECOND
MARGARET
I. MARGARET IN STAFFORDSHIRE
II. MARGARET IN LONDON
III. MARGARET IN VENICE
IV. THE HOUSE IN WESTMINSTER
BOOK THE THIRD
THE HEART OF POLITICS
I. THE RIDDLE FOR THE STATESMAN
II. SEEKING ASSOCIATES
III. SECESSION
IV. THE BESETTING OF SEX
BOOK THE FOURTH
ISABEL
I. LOVE AND SUCCESS
II. THE IMPOSSIBLE POSITION
III. THE BREAKING POINT
BOOK THE FIRST: THE MAKING OF A MAN
CHAPTER THE FIRST ~~ CONCERNING A BOOK THAT WAS NEVER WRITTEN
1
Since I came to this place I have been very restless, wasting my
energies in the futile beginning of ill-conceived books. One does not
settle down very readily at two and forty to a new way of living, and
I have found myself with the teeming interests of the life I have
abandoned still buzzing like a swarm of homeless bees in my head. My
mind has been full of confused protests and justifications. In any case
I should have found difficulties enough in expressing the complex thing
I have to tell, but it has added greatly to my trouble that I have a
great analogue, that a certain Niccolo Machiavelli chanced to fall out
of politics at very much the age I have reached, and wrote a book to
engage the restlessness of his mind, very much as I have wanted to do.
He wrote about the relation of the great constructive spirit in politics
to individual character and weaknesses, and so far his achievement lies
like a deep rut in the road of my intention. It has taken me far astray.
It is a matter of many weeks now--diversified indeed by some long drives
into the mountains behind us and a memorable sail to Genoa across the
blue and purple waters that drowned Shelley--since I began a laboured
and futile imitation of “The Prince.” I sat up late last night with the
jumbled accumulation; and at last made a little fire of olive twigs and
burnt it all, sheet by sheet--to begin again clear this morning.