Reading in a Pandemic

 

(Image by Engin Akyurt from Pixabay)

 I honestly don't know why I'm allowing a pandemic to influence my reading material but I have. A doctor friend recommended "Pale Rider," by Laura Spinney so I thought I would give it a go. " She described it as a readable history of the 1918 flu epidemic," and was right. In light of the latest case figures and announcement of a new national lockdown, today is somewhat dispiriting, so I thought I'd share the angst.

The book was published in 2017 and not only did I appreciate the many similarities to the current pandemic gripping the world but was horrified to learn that it may have killed up to 100 million people or 20% of the world's population at the time. Imagine that in the context of the coronavirus figures on the Worldometer today. Following on the heels of the First World War, in Europe the flu pandemic of 1918 is generally regarded as a postscript to the war when in fact it was clearly the largest human catastrophe of the last century, killing globally, it is calculated, more than either of the World Wars.

Although the first wave began in the Spring of 1918, most deaths occurred during the course of the deadly second wave that endured for three months at the end of that year before being followed by two smaller and lesser waves in 1919. It was the largest pandemic since the Black Death swept across Asia, Europe and North Africa in the 14th Century. For many parts of the world, therefore, 1918 is remembered as the year of the flu rather than the year in which war ended.

The book gives a short history of pandemics pointing out that they have existed for millennia with the Cough of Perinthus in 412 BC being the first recorded flu epidemic. It was only, however, in the middle of the nineteenth century that scientists like Koch and Pasteur properly identified invisible germs or rather bacteria and then towards the end of that century that the existence of viruses, far smaller than bacteria, were discovered. Consequently in 1918, viruses were still a relatively unknown phenomenon and it is only subsequently through exhumations and examination of archived samples that it has been established that the Spanish Flu had a bird flu structure and, because its source was not human, had a devastating effect when it crossed the species.

Undoubtedly modern medicine could have saved many thousands of deaths across the globe at a time when, in some parts, smoking (to clear the airways), drinking and bloodletting were all still viewed as potential treatments. Although most people survived what was viewed as a bad dose of flu, just as with Covid-19 there appeared to be a genetic susceptibility meaning that pathologists saw evidence of massive inflammation invoking an immune response that caused greater impact than the virus itself. When the respiratory tract became infected and they suffered pneumonia, survival was less certain. Moreover, and even for those who recovered, there could be profound health implications for many years afterwards. 

Statistically more women than men were likely to survive, but there was also a disparity in mortality that stretched beyond the genders, hitting the poor badly. With crowded living conditions, limited access to health care and deficient diets, poverty stacked the odds against survival. It was a disease of the closely inhabited cities and industrial areas rather than the countryside.

It was widely believed that bad air was spreading the virus. Those places that insisted on the use of face masks from an early stage and until the danger had passed accordingly fared better. Similarly areas that imposed bans on mass gatherings had successes in controlling the spread. Keeping your distance and cleanliness were promoted; curfews were imposed.

Travellers spread infection.The return of the troops from the war is generally regarded as critical in the escalation of cases in Europe and America, with its initial origin potentially on a farm in the USA from where it was carried across the Atlantic in troopships to the trenches in France. 

Of course, once I returned Pale Rider to the county's online library, Daniel Defoe's "A Journal of the Plague Year" appeared in my recommended reading list. How could I resist? In fact if I maintain this attitude and the pandemic continues, I could end up re-reading "La Peste" by Albert Camus, one of the set texts for my French A'level several decades ago, but still remembered with horror and not because of all those French idioms.

As we now know, the Great Plague of London, which it is believed travelled there on trading vessels from the Netherlands in 1664, was spread by fleas from rodents. It was not a virus but as there were obviously no antibiotics in the 17th Century, its effect was as catastrophic as as a virus without a vaccine. Although a work of fiction, Defoe apparently used a  record written by his Uncle as the basis for his book. It is amazing too how an event that occurred over 350 years ago bears so many similarities to the present time, in terms of human response.

Those who could, fled the city (spreading still further the disease) and whilst the Court took up residence outside London, the Lord Mayor, sheriffs and aldermen remained, dictating the response. Music rooms and dance halls closed; plays, bear baiting and singing as well as "gatherings" were banned; feasting in taverns was prohibited and a 9 pm curfew was imposed on drinking in ale and coffee houses.

There were no online dashboards with international figures but there were daily bills, listing and counting the dead; it was accepted that because of the sheer numbers, the figures were an underestimate but comparisons were made to the historic records for an excess deaths comparison. Of course, they couldn't go contactless and instead vinegar was used to sterilise money and sanitise hands; it was even sniffed up the nose in the belief that the plague was passing by airborne transmission. Social distancing and isolation were adopted by all and enforced in the event that a home had been subjected to an outbreak. There was even a 40 day period of quarantine for travellers or in some instances for those who had been in contact with a victim.

All work except that associated with subsistence ceased and the Mayor worked hard to keep civil order and distibute charity. Poverty again played its part in ensuring that there was an inequality of suffering. Not only had the poor been left behind in the City but they lived in the most crowded, squalid conditions; they had no funds with which to stockpile essentials and quickly suffered unemployment. Relief was provided with work as watchmen and nurses, as well as grave diggers and burial cart drivers. Most did not survive long.

An initial outbreak in December 1664 appeared to be quelled and by April 1665 the populace was resuming its social habits when the "visitation" returned with a force and a dreaded second wave. By the end of 1665 it is reckoned that a quarter of the population of London (approximately 100,000 people had died), half in a 5 week period between August and September when the pestilence was at its height. 

In the autumn, the disease remained as contagious but the deaths began to diminish, although those who let down their guard still paid the price for so doing, especially when asymptomatic cases, where the sufferer only displayed symptoms in the hours before death, emerged.

There are so many parallels in both books to what has been happening globally in 2020 and now 2021. Human behaviour, government responses and the destructive nature of epidemics are all a constant, despite the passage of time. Who could ever have imagined only a year ago that retirement was going to be passed in a series of lockdowns? If anyone had suggested as much, I would clearly have assumed they'd mistaken me for a criminal on the run. Thankfully, today we now have the promise of science providing an escape route, but what if...?

Finally, and I apologise because this is a somewhat longer post than I usually write, but I hope you noticed that by borrowing my reading material online, I must surely be going some way to satisfy my resolution to get more from less. I love books, but when they no longer fit on the shelves it's the time to bring the new strategy into play.

Comments

Treaders said…
Thanks for the book recommendation. It sounds like the kind of book I would appreciate (I like social commentary books). I've just downloaded a sample onto my kindle to see if I like it (one of the advantages of the kindle). Oddly enough I read La Peste for A level also and absolutely hated it. I found it again recently while I was sorting out my basement. I'm wondering if it might be worth a second read as we were told to read it as an allegory to the war!
Caree Risover said…
Yes, a war time allegory with the fighter pilot, I recall, playing the part of the brave doctor but Camus telling us that the would-be author stumbling over the first line of his novel was the real hero. I think it might be worth a re-read to work out whether keeping a blog during the current pandemic renders us the same status: ordinary citizens maintaining our day to day lives.

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