1
In what ways do the novels Waterland and Austerlitz present the two world wars as
challenges to philosophies of historical progress?
In Waterland (1983) and Austerlitz (2001) the two world wars are presented as challenges to
philosophies of historical progress as both texts explore how the unprecedented brutality of
early twentieth-century warfare was an ultimate realisation of the destructive logic of
enlightenment advancement. In Waterland, the collapse of historical progress, marked by the
onset of World War One, is traced in the rise and fall of the Atkinsons. In Austerlitz,
nineteenth-and twentieth-century architecture documents the narrative of progression,
culminating in the barbaric structural designs of World War Two. In Waterland the two world
wars prompt an alternative model for genuine progress; in Austerlitz, however, World War
Two represents an endpoint of history itself.
Waterland traces the collapse of philosophies of historical progress which reached
their true endpoint in the barbarism of the Great War. This historical narrative is traced in the
decline of the enterprising Atkinson family. During the Enlightenment age the small-scale
barley farmers ‘got Ideas.’1 William Atkinson ‘directs his gaze towards the west’ (W, p.67)
and begins to conquer the ‘backward and trackless wilderness’ (W, p.67) of the Fens. By the
nineteenth century the Atkinson enterprise has reached its zenith. George and Alfred, moved
by ‘that noble and impersonal Idea of Progress’ (W, p.92), have established the Atkinson
Water Transport Company and the New Brewery. The Atkinson family history, as Eric
Berlatsky observes, is ‘characterized by the capitalist and imperialist “progress” consistent
with traditional Western historical narrative.’2 Despite Arthur Atkinson’s grand idea that we
are ‘servants of the future’ (W, p.93), however, the fate of the early twentieth century will be
‘only to lament and wearily explain the loss of his confident sentiments’ (W, p.94). The
Atkinson enterprise declines at the turn of the century, reaching an ‘apocalyptic note’ (W,
p.169) in the summer of 1911 when the New Brewery is destroyed by fire. This downturn, in
the shadow of the First World War, illustrates the maxim that progress inevitably leads to
, 2
catastrophe. The savagery of the Great War marks the ultimate expression of progressive
logic and the collapse of enlightenment ideals.
In Waterland the two world wars present a seismic shock to the enlightenment rhetoric
of progress. In 1914 the ‘wide world impinges’ (W, p.19) on the Fens, which until then had
remained largely untouched by world conflict. The men of the Fenlands, for example George
and Henry Crick, are usually employed ‘in the peaceable tasks of drainage and reclamation’
(W, p.19). With the onset of war, however, these men are conscripted to the war effort.
Consequently, the ‘waters return’ (W, p.19) to the Fens. This concept is used figuratively to
demonstrate the First World War as a departure from historical progress. The labour exerted
in the constant subjugation of water amounts to nothing when the waters return; similarly, the
relentless pursuit of progress is reversed when civilisation reverts to the savagery of warfare.
Metaphorically, therefore, the ‘wide world is sinking’ (W, p.19) during the Great War. This
retrogression is exacerbated by the Second World War which accentuated the backwardness
of alleged historical progress. In July 1940, for instance, the German army occupies the same
land ‘which in 1914 to 18 a million and a half Frenchmen had given their lives to defend’ (W,
p.180). In Waterland, as Berlatsky argues, ‘History and progress, traditionally defined, are
connected to the corpses strewn across Europe’3 in the early twentieth century. The two world
wars, conflicts of an unprecedented and devastating scale, indicated that progress inevitably
harboured a catastrophic retrogression.
In Waterland the two world wars articulate the disillusionment of enlightenment
theories of progress while suggesting that a new progressive model is required. The historical
progression of civilisation paradoxically resulted in technological advancements that
produced the destructive weaponry of the two world wars. Ever since the Enlightenment
period the world had ‘believed it would never end, it would go on getting better’ (W, p.336).
The pre-enlightenment belief in the end of the world, however, returned in the twentieth
In what ways do the novels Waterland and Austerlitz present the two world wars as
challenges to philosophies of historical progress?
In Waterland (1983) and Austerlitz (2001) the two world wars are presented as challenges to
philosophies of historical progress as both texts explore how the unprecedented brutality of
early twentieth-century warfare was an ultimate realisation of the destructive logic of
enlightenment advancement. In Waterland, the collapse of historical progress, marked by the
onset of World War One, is traced in the rise and fall of the Atkinsons. In Austerlitz,
nineteenth-and twentieth-century architecture documents the narrative of progression,
culminating in the barbaric structural designs of World War Two. In Waterland the two world
wars prompt an alternative model for genuine progress; in Austerlitz, however, World War
Two represents an endpoint of history itself.
Waterland traces the collapse of philosophies of historical progress which reached
their true endpoint in the barbarism of the Great War. This historical narrative is traced in the
decline of the enterprising Atkinson family. During the Enlightenment age the small-scale
barley farmers ‘got Ideas.’1 William Atkinson ‘directs his gaze towards the west’ (W, p.67)
and begins to conquer the ‘backward and trackless wilderness’ (W, p.67) of the Fens. By the
nineteenth century the Atkinson enterprise has reached its zenith. George and Alfred, moved
by ‘that noble and impersonal Idea of Progress’ (W, p.92), have established the Atkinson
Water Transport Company and the New Brewery. The Atkinson family history, as Eric
Berlatsky observes, is ‘characterized by the capitalist and imperialist “progress” consistent
with traditional Western historical narrative.’2 Despite Arthur Atkinson’s grand idea that we
are ‘servants of the future’ (W, p.93), however, the fate of the early twentieth century will be
‘only to lament and wearily explain the loss of his confident sentiments’ (W, p.94). The
Atkinson enterprise declines at the turn of the century, reaching an ‘apocalyptic note’ (W,
p.169) in the summer of 1911 when the New Brewery is destroyed by fire. This downturn, in
the shadow of the First World War, illustrates the maxim that progress inevitably leads to
, 2
catastrophe. The savagery of the Great War marks the ultimate expression of progressive
logic and the collapse of enlightenment ideals.
In Waterland the two world wars present a seismic shock to the enlightenment rhetoric
of progress. In 1914 the ‘wide world impinges’ (W, p.19) on the Fens, which until then had
remained largely untouched by world conflict. The men of the Fenlands, for example George
and Henry Crick, are usually employed ‘in the peaceable tasks of drainage and reclamation’
(W, p.19). With the onset of war, however, these men are conscripted to the war effort.
Consequently, the ‘waters return’ (W, p.19) to the Fens. This concept is used figuratively to
demonstrate the First World War as a departure from historical progress. The labour exerted
in the constant subjugation of water amounts to nothing when the waters return; similarly, the
relentless pursuit of progress is reversed when civilisation reverts to the savagery of warfare.
Metaphorically, therefore, the ‘wide world is sinking’ (W, p.19) during the Great War. This
retrogression is exacerbated by the Second World War which accentuated the backwardness
of alleged historical progress. In July 1940, for instance, the German army occupies the same
land ‘which in 1914 to 18 a million and a half Frenchmen had given their lives to defend’ (W,
p.180). In Waterland, as Berlatsky argues, ‘History and progress, traditionally defined, are
connected to the corpses strewn across Europe’3 in the early twentieth century. The two world
wars, conflicts of an unprecedented and devastating scale, indicated that progress inevitably
harboured a catastrophic retrogression.
In Waterland the two world wars articulate the disillusionment of enlightenment
theories of progress while suggesting that a new progressive model is required. The historical
progression of civilisation paradoxically resulted in technological advancements that
produced the destructive weaponry of the two world wars. Ever since the Enlightenment
period the world had ‘believed it would never end, it would go on getting better’ (W, p.336).
The pre-enlightenment belief in the end of the world, however, returned in the twentieth
