This book forms the core my pacifist beliefs so thoroughly did it capture my imagination when I began reading it four years ago. The first person experience, the writing style of the 19th century, and the substantial intellect contained cannot but cause the reader to fall in love and subscribe to all the peace ideals articulated therein. Why then did it take me four years to finish it? Because the end was spoiled for me and I have a terrible time finishing fiction when I am anxious for my characters.

That being said, this fictional autobiography does a magnificent job detailing the experience of war from the point of view of a mother and wife who wants nothing more than to spend her days with her loved ones and not have them killed for no just reason.

After losing her first husband to war, Martha sets about exploring the history of how the wars come to be justified, examines public discourse for how the populace is convinced to sacrifice themselves, and finally how the “leaders” are pressured into war. She also, through personal experience, explores all that comes with war- destruction of National libraries and landmarks, epidemic disease, suicide, madness, starvation, and loss of intellectual resources.

Once you reach the end you are well convinced of the insanity and insensibility of the war industry. I shall never again hear the utterance of “defense budget” without thinking of this book and shuddering.

While it ends with the Franco-German war of 1870 and with a hopeful note that the time of peace has arrived, it was sadly published in 1914 just before WWI would break out. Heralding another century of war before moving us into the age of terror.

I concur with the final lines of the book:
“Shall we endeavor to show ourselves worthy of our fathers’ fathers, as the old phrase goes? No. But of our grandsons’ grandsons.”

No more declaration of peace could be more persuasive.