As someone the titles of whose blog posts feature their fair share of musical references, I was delighted to see the recent publication in English of Yanis Varoufakis’s book which seems to reveal Varoufakis as a Billy Bragg fan (and/or of Vladimir Mayakovsky, of course). Given the subject matter being dealt with both in Varoufakis’s book and on Bragg’s best LP, and Varoufakis being at the University of Essex in the 1980s researching his Economics PhD, the links between a Greek economist and my generation’s finest songwriter is not as fanciful a reference as it might appear on the surface.
Not on my current reading list, I picked Varoufakis’s book up from a well-known airport bookshop outlet as part of a BOGOHP offer, teaming it with his more weighty memoir of his tumultuous term as Greece’s Finance Minister, Adults In the Room, having forgotten to pack any other reading material for my trip.
I make it that Varoufakis’s daughter would have been nine or ten years old when the book was first written (in 2013, predating that term by two years); at that age, I was lapping up the adventures of Julian, Dick, George, Anne and Timmy the dog and I’m really not sure I was then capable of much greater intellectual rigour, bright enough as I then appeared to be among the rest of my classmates. Perhaps nine year olds are a little more precocious these days – or perhaps the daughters of politicians and economists are, which does have a comment or two to make in itself about social mobility. While his daughter (who lives on an entirely different continent) is certainly his muse here, I suspect that this was really Varoufakis’s attempt to ensure he remained grounded at a time of increasing political activity; and, after all, being able to explain complex things in a simple way is an important academic discipline which all of us frustrated academics need to apply from time to time.
Mostly, he succeeds, although writing a ‘brief history of capitalism’ (the book’s rather racy sub-title, which I imagine Varoufakis had little hand in) can sometimes lead to over-simplifications and an unfortunate loss of nuance. It’s also rather less such a ‘brief history’ and more an attempt to provide a clear background to the Greek debt crisis, building on a variety of disciplines – history, myths and legends, economics and philosophy, and modern film narratives (The Matrix is refreshingly well explained and applied in a context fourteen or so years later) – to explain how Greece and, more specifically, its bankers had reached the point of bankruptcy and what that meant in the development of capitalist/market society relations. Using the language of myths and legends to explain the workings of dry capitalism is indeed a form of talking to the taxman about poetry as Varoufakis, clearly a romantic, would have appreciated. And, as was clear in the case of Varoufakis’s time in office, with about as much effect and impact in practice as might be expected from as scant a meeting of minds.
An economist by training, Varoufakis certainly has polymath tendencies and his approach is, as a result, original. Whether this diversity, coupled with his own temperament, made him the best negotiator for Greece at that point is a different story, although Varoufakis’s short time in office, before the pressure to replace him told with Alexis Tsipras, suggests not although this is best reviewed in the context of his later memoir. Which, by the way, is a compelling narrative, to judge by its opening chapters.