Nonetheless, they all perceived theirnclass and its verities as threatened, evenndoomed, and searched for their own alternativesnand solutions to the existingnorder. Perhaps it is impossible to do justicenin a brief review to Schorske’s analysis,nwhich is rich in illustrations andnfar removed from the simplistic reductionismnso often endemic to Marxistsnand radical historians. Its one limitation,nhowever, is implicit in the perspectivenfrom which Schorske approaches hisnsubject: it is a diagnostic view of a terminallynill patient. Of course, we allnknow that the Hapsburg Empire camento an end in 1918 following a disastrousnwar, and that during and after thenSecond World War most of its formernterritories were overrun by one or morentotalitarian powers. Yet there was nothingninescapable about this denouement;nwithout such unforeseeable historicalncontingencies as the Archduke’s assassinationnor Germany’s defeat in 1918,nthe Hapsburg Empire might still benaround in spite of its internal divisions.nIn my opinion, most studies of thenAustro-Hungarian Empire gave toonmuch emphasis to doom. This could benattributed to their authors’ awarenessnof the ultimate disasters that await thensubject, but the historian’s task is notnto sing in the chorus of an ancient Greekntragedy, where all things are fated fromnthe outset. Rather, he must try to comprehendnthe political choices and spiritualnhorizons that were, or seemed tonbe, open to men in past ages.nFrom this perspective, fin-de-sieclenViennese culture revealed, not a dyingnbourgeois society, but the fullest floweringnof the European middle class. Associatingnitself with aristocratic and monarchicalninstitutions, yet proud of itsnown material and educational achievements,nthe Viennese Burgerstand, asnSchorske shows, gave birth to an artisticallynand intellectually brilliant civilization.nIt enjoyed, moreover, the supportnof many of those whom he cites as beingnamong its subverters. Freud andnSchnitzler called attention to those biologicalnand natural forces which theynChronicles of Cttltttrensaw as operative in their society, butnboth men were thoroughly committednto upholding bourgeois civility and thenempire. In this respect they differednmarkedly from our own decayed bourgeois,nwho draw sustenance from an inheritednsocial and economic order whichnthey ostentatiously denounce. Perhapsnvon Schonerer, the nationalist radical,nwas most like our own cultural gravediggers,nand yet von Schonerer hardlyntypified the society which Schorskenevokes, and he spent most of his lifen(deservedly) as a social outcast.nOn Evil, Devil & DespairnJohn Gardner: Freddy’s Book; AlfrednA. Knopf; Nevi^ York.nby Earl HiltonnAt the start, John Gardner’s Freddy’snBook seems to be another novelnabout a novelist writing a novel, anothernexample of current literary narcissism.nBut it is more than that.nIt opens in the present, in an encounternbetween Winesap, an outgoing, successful,nperhaps overly optimistic scholar/lecturer;nAgaard, a reclusive elderlynscholar; and Freddy, Agaard’s son,ncalled a “monster” by his father becausenof his abnormal size, but a wise and gentlenmonster. Freddy presents Winesapnwith his manuscript, titled King Gustavnand the Devil. The rest of the book consistsnof Freddy’s story; Winesap, Agaardnand Freddy do not reappear. Despite thenclaims made on the flap of the dust jacket,nthe two sections do not contributensignificantly to each other. One wondersnwhy Gardner bothered with the openingnmachinery. To present a “modern” surfacento the many readers who.find nonmeaning in the past? To tell a story ofngood and evil, featuring the Devil, withoutnhaving his work classified as chil-nDr. Hilton has just retired from teachingnEnglish at Northern MichigannUniversity.nnnDespite the fatalistic outlook, hownever, Schorske’s book is to be highlynrecommended to scholars and admirersnof Viennese culture. If nothing else, itnshould make us aware of what the Europeannbourgeoisie produced in its finestnhour.Von Hofmannsthal, who was nostalgicnfor Baroque culture, compared hisnsociety to Augustan Rome and spoke ofnliving in a “silver age.” For those of usnwho are aware of the continuing erosionnof Western spiritual vitality, his “silvernage,” in retrospect, seems increasinglynappealing. Dndren’s literature?nFor the material of Freddy’s story,nGardner draws upon Scandinavian historynand folklore. In telling it, henachieves some of the effect of stylizednsimplicity we expect in the fairy tale.nThe setting is Sweden in the early 16thncentury, when Luther and the newnthought of the Renaissance are causingnmen to question established views. Anrebellion by the Swedish regent againstnthe Danish king who rules all Scandinavianis put down and punished in “thenbloodbath of Stockholm.” In reaction,nGustav Vasa leads a successful rebellionnand becomes king. Then Gustav mustnhold his power against all those who,nwhether from idealism or opportunism,ntry to seize it. Though his claim is morenjust than Macbeth’s, he reminds us ofnMacbeth in the increasing ruthlessnessnwith which he defends his throne,” finallynturning against even Lars-Goren, hisnmost faithful adviser. Through thenmidst of this, in varying guises, movesnthe Devil, encouraging plot, counterplotnand execution, enhancing his reputationnas the father of confusion, and yet boredn—perhaps nauseated is a better word—nby mankind and himself. The cost ofnpower is one theme of the book, and, tonGardner’s credit, he never suggests politicalnquietism as the solution. Henstresses responsibility, and responsibilitynrequires the exercise of power—prefer-n