Reviewed by: Vienna: The International Capital by Angus Robertson Andrew Barker Vienna: The International Capital. By Angus Robertson. Edinburgh: Birlinn. 2021. 448 pp. £25. ISBN 978–1-78027–691–5. In autumn 2021, a translation of Ilse Barea's seminal study Vienna: Legend and Reality (1965) finally appeared in German, published by Edition Atelier. Coincidentally, its launch coincided with that of Vienna: The International Capital. Having searched 'far and wide for a dedicated account of the city as an international capital', but 'failing to find one in either German or English' (p. [End Page 206] 366), Robertson, apparently unaware of Barea's precedent, decided to write one himself. Like her, he sees Vienna as 'a pivot for diplomacy, culture, intellectual thought, music, art, design and architecture for hundreds of years' (p. vii), but his prime focus is on political, diplomatic and military history. Moreover, unlike Barea, whose account effectively finishes in 1914, Robertson takes full account of the fraught century to follow. In 'From Vindobona to Vienna', however, the city's first sixteen centuries are shoehorned into one twenty-page chapter. By the seventeenth century, Vienna had become synonymous with Christendom's stand against Islam, and Robertson revels in the Habsburg dynasty's arcane court practices. He is less gripped by other aspects of Vienna at the height of the Baroque, a term barely mentioned, hence Abraham a Sancta Clara goes unmentioned. When Maria Theresa and Joseph II take centre stage, another litany of potentates, palaces and battles ensues. Henry Swinburne's contemporary account of a cramped, stinking city eventually strikes a less regal note, and the narrative broadens to relate how Haydn and Mozart cemented Vienna's 'status as the world musical capital' (p. 72). However, its treatment of Mozart raises unasked questions about Vienna's resentful relationship with some of its greatest creative figures. A century later, Gustav Mahler would also discover that the Weana Herz is not always golden. The narrative quickens with the account of the formative Congress of Vienna that closed the Napoleonic era, but does the 'perception of diplomacy to this day' really still involve 'dances, ballrooms and high society celebrations' (p. 106)? Robertson acknowledges 'domestic repression' in the Metternich era (p. 138), but makes little of Vienna as the capital of a police state. The notion of 'Biedermeier' itself warrants a paragraph (p. 140). Demotic life is covered by some observations of the Irish correspondent Martha Wilmot (pp. 143–44), whose report of the imperial family's foot-washing Maundy ritual attracts extended attention. By now, Vienna's 'unvarnished anti-Semitism' was all too clear to see (p. 152), but this is not generally presented as a defining feature of the city's character. The chapter on Franz Joseph concentrates on the period 1848–67, and is again heavy on dynastic and military matters affecting the empire overall. Here too, the narrative is unbalanced. Four engaging pages are devoted to two Maori visitors to Vienna, presented to the emperor in 1860, but the explosion of the city's Jewish population after 1860, with inestimable consequences for more than just Vienna's modern history, passes without comment. Major scholarly sources by Steven Beller, Robert Wistrich and Bruce F. Pauley are untapped. Whenever Viennese culture is invoked, as in 'Nervous Splendour: Fin de Siècle', what mostly follows comprises little more than lists of authors, painters or composers. Indeed, throughout much of the book, despite its title, Vienna itself repeatedly plays second fiddle to Robertson's fascination with the Habsburgs and their empire. In 'Waltzing to War', the city barely figures in an otherwise excellent summary of Austria-Hungary's role and demise in the First World War. [End Page 207] Throughout, the author's grasp of detail is uncertain: Mozart's opera is not Die Entführung aus dem Serail (p. 81); Lord Nelson lodged at the 'Haus aller Biedermänner', not the linguistically impossible 'Haus zum Biedermänner (p. 93); the Biedermeier poet was Friedrich Halm, not Hall (p. 140); 'Sisi' was not a 'Wittlesbach' (p. 165); her husband was defeated at Solferino, not Solforino (p. 171); Olbrich, not Hoffmann, designed the Secession building (p. 220). The Swiss painter is B...
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