Fuck it. I'm dropping Snyder's book, I can't deal with how schizophrenic it is. What garbled self righteous ramblings of a mad man.
I survived two chapters before I had to end my attempts at reading this.
He opens his book with "To journalists, the heroes of our time". After this grandiose "let's pat ourselves on the back", he goes onto describe how there are two types of societies. The societies of inevitability and societies of eternity. The first being the west, in believing that its all systems lead to a western liberal democracy and the later being Russia in believing that the problems faced yesterday are the problems faced today.
For some reason, he finds these self penned terms to be so crucial and insightful that he will repeat them over and over again throughout the first two chapters. (Presumably through the rest of the book, but I had to punch out). In the first chapter he managed to insert the idea that Putin 4d chess'd the rise of Trump 4 different times in the most smug and oblivious way, not even merely suggesting that Putin provided crucial help as is the standard, but going above and beyond the call of duty and suggesting that this was a plan by Putin that had been in the making since before 2016.
I endured this and allowed the author to have creative freedom to over dramatize reality, but when he careened into the Russian 90s with the bold claim that there were no elections that served to legitimize Yeltsin, that's when I knew he had gone too far. He makes the entirety of the Russian 90s into a smooth transition into Putin, the only people even brought up in his oversimplified or retarded
rundown of these years were Yeltsin and Putin. He chose to claim that '96 was a "fake election", with no further backing or context. The first mention of the Chechen question was when he brought up FSB agents being arrested in regards to the apartment bombings, as if the entirety of the Chechen War was just willed into being by the Russian government.
Just mind numbing oversimplified garbage, but this was not enough to deter me. I knew what was coming going into this book, but I wanted to read it.
Then the motherfucker ends his chapter with
>The ink of political fiction is blood
And at that moment, I could just imagine his smug face as he looked down at his D+ essay as if it were the masterpiece of a genius.
This book is possibly the only reasonable argument for book burnings.