In the 1630s the Netherlands was gripped by tulipmania: a speculative fever unprecedented in scale and, as popular history would have it, folly. We all know the outline of the story—how otherwise sensible merchants, nobles, and artisans spent all they had (and much that they didn’t) on tulip bulbs. We have heard how these bulbs changed hands hundreds of times in a single day, and how some bulbs, sold and resold for thousands of guilders, never even existed. Tulipmania is seen as an example of the gullibility of crowds and the dangers of financial speculation.
But it wasn’t like that. As Anne Goldgar reveals in Tulipmania, not one of these stories is true. Making use of extensive archival research, she lays waste to the legends, revealing that while the 1630s did see a speculative bubble in tulip prices, neither the height of the bubble nor its bursting were anywhere near as dramatic as we tend to think. By clearing away the accumulated myths, Goldgar is able to show us instead the far more interesting reality: the ways in which tulipmania reflected deep anxieties about the transformation of Dutch society in the Golden Age.
“Goldgar tells us at the start of her excellent debunking book: ‘Most of what we have heard of [tulipmania] is not true.’. . . She tells a new story.”—Simon Kuper, Financial Times
Goldgar argues that the scholarly work on the 1637 'tulip mania' in Holland has been based on a small number of translations of a equally small number of pieces of propaganda/satirical writing. This has skewed the understanding of the events and personalities of the period, and vastly skewed the popular understanding, where tulip mania is used as an easy metaphor for the failings of the capitalist system in a boom and bust environment.
Phew.
Goldgar slowly unravels the collecting culture that existed in Holland in the late 1500s and early 1600s, and the practices of liefhebbers (flower lovers) which were aligned to those of art and curiotsity collectors (this was also the era of the birth of the wunderkammer, the carefully curated and beautifully displayed private collections of natural and man-made wonders).
She then equally carefully unravels the activities of the tulip collectors and traders - that they often lived in close proximity, worked in similar business, were often related or tied closely through their interests and businesses. A single individual might grow bulbs, sell them, witness the sale and delivery of other bulbs, vocuh for one side or the other in disputes about bulbs, commission artworks and name specific flowers (interestingly, this was the time at which Dutch citiziens began not only to name different types of tulips, but to assume consistent first and surnames for themselves).
Goldgar's careful research leads to findings that create a lot of shading of the black and white lines of the common tale of tulip mania. Yes, prices did climb steeply and drop off. But the trade was confined to a relatively small and close-knit circle - certainly not the farmers, candlestick makers, princes and chimney sweeps satiricised in popular songs - and only one person who traded in bulbs went bankrupt near the Feb 1637 "crisis".
Without wanting to go into screeds of detail, the book reminded me how facile my understanding is of so much of the world and it's history. It also underlined to me the danger of using analogies or cliches to explain complex and nuanced situations - the risk you run of people thinking they understand the circumstances, but actually standing on a very thin veneer of understanding.
The author shares her exhaustive research into tulip-mania and debunks it. On one hand the points are interesting, but the exhaustive detail turns it into a slog at times as you wade through the lives of the people who were involved in the investment bubble, and their motivations. The author however does do a good job of making you understand how times were different, and what these flowers meant to the collectors. Tulips at the time fell into the same category as works of art (the whole concept of growing a garden of flowers was a relatively new thing, and tulips were an import from Asia and therefore not unlike orchids today). The mania was that of the collector of things rare and beautiful, only with a tulip what bloomed one year might not pop up the next year looking the same, and when the bulb splits the 'child' might not resemble the parent, which created all sorts of problems between buyers and sellers. Additionally a community that had been built utterly on trust (dutch cities had been organized into social subsets based on high trust relationships) were shifting at this same time to one of commodities and contracts, and the reordering of the social structure that made people uncomfortable. While people did get hurt in the crash, no one actually went bankrupt who hadn't already shown a tendency towards economic irresponsibility, and the whole affair was ultimately overblown and distorted.
However, that said, the book does tend to ramble on, I think she could have made the argument just as well with 1/2 the pages
Very well done. A must to read if visiting the Netherlands. It has tons of detail that can turn off readers, but I found it fascinating. The author has done some extensive research and convincingly proves her thesis.
Excellent examination of this 17th century phenomenon. Puts to rest much of the mythology and hyperbole surrounding stories about tulipmania. Puts bulb trading in context, as an "on the side" activity of merchants, doctors and skilled artisans who were drawn to the tulip for its beauty and rarity as well as its role as a valuable commodity. Sees tulipmania less as an economic crisis --it wasn't -- and more as evidence of a crisis in Dutch society. A nuanced and thoroughly documented work.
This is, essentially, an extended argument that the tulip bubble was overblown; and more of a rhetorical device than an actual crisis. The argument is persuasive, but also could have used a stronger editorial hand: this is, itself, a long pamphlet, not a book. Still, an interesting read in a time of new bubbles (and moral judgements).
Terrific. What is value? How do we know? How can you trust others? What a fabulous book. Goldgar tackles the intersection of commerce, value, knowledge, science, art, nature, religion and culture and pulls it all off beautifully. I'm sad it is over. And what did she title the Epilogue? Cabbage Fever.
Tulip mania. Anyone who has ever heard of it would also have probably heard of what it was supposedly about, and how it all went wrong and with serious consequences! Isn't that the archetypal symbol of a madness of crowds? Isn't that (or so we have been told) when a whole country (the Netherlands) supposedly got so gripped by a frenzy about tulips that mere flowers (no matter how rare and exotic back then, since tulips are not native to Europe...) not only changed hands so multiple times while not even in bloom yet (!) but, also, for such exorbitant prices that the market could only go bust, countless reputations ruined, many well-off merchants and collectors ended up bankrupt, and an economy itself suffered a serious blow -and all for mere profit making akin to irresponsible gambling? Wasn't tulip mania, in other words, a warning to future generations; one illustrating what could happen when the greed underpinning the unbridled capitalism of a society then deeply reliant on global trade went hand-in-hand with the foolishness of snobs, willing to pay fortunes for bulbs? Wasn't it?
Anne Goldgar's book is not easy to navigate. It's thorough, and so gives a great deal of attention to details that, if you're only after a rough understanding of what went on (as I was) you probably could do without. Nevertheless, it remains a captivating one, not least, for debunking all of the silly preconceptions listed above.
It's true that Europe back then (16th-17th century) was being exposed to curiosities from the world at large, including when it comes to plants. Tulips, in fact, were not the only flowers to be introduced on the continent then. So was, also, the tomatoes, the runner beans and French beans, the artichokes, the bell peppers, or, to remains on flowers only, the hyacinths, the anemones, the crocus, the iris, the narcissus and others. It's true, too, that in the Netherlands especially, a society in flux due to its heavy reliance on international trade and the burgeoning cosmopolitanism which ensued, such overtures to the world would impact social order at home (as the author arrestingly show with what the fascination for tulips also entailed for the so-called bloemisten). What is everything but true, though, is that tulip mania had bewitched the whole country and ultimately led to the foreseeable bankruptcy of far too many. On the contrary, the tulip market embraced such a tiny community of well-off collectors and traders that, not only its bust barely registered on the Dutch economy as a whole, but, most importantly, it ruined next to no one! Tulip mania as we know it, then, is nothing but that: a myth, where misunderstanding and historical falsehood have taken hold of the narrative. But then what?
As a debunking work, Tulipmania is obviously highly interesting as it is. However, what makes it really enjoyable and enlightening is the endeavour of the author once she debunked our misguided understanding of such event: trying to understand what motivated tulip lovers in their quest for the rarest bulbs; why the tulips (of all flowers) would be at the core of passions among an elite; and why, as this was indeed the case, prices could fly up the roof even for bulbs with no guarantee whatsoever that they would germinate as buyers (or sellers) expected them to? The answers offered are here are no less enlightening and striking, as Anne Goldgar put forth the argument that tulip mania was as much about collecting and money as it was about... aesthetics! She, in fact, draws parallels, not only between the art world pertaining to the Dutch Golden Age and that of the community of tulip lovers and tulip collectors, but, also, between some painting themselves and tulips as an object; showing thus how this can help our understanding of the elite's psyche at the time.
History is full of weird stories. Some have been so weird, in fact, that they came to become multiple stories of their own, regardless of their original veracity or not. Getting to the bottom of it all to try and dispel the myths and stick instead to what truly happened is a feat in itself. When this is done in a way that helps shed a new light upon a whole society and some of its most passionate obsessions (no matter how widespread or not) is even a greater feat. This book, fascinatingly enough, manages to fulfil both expectations. It certainly might be so thorough that it can get lost in its own minutiae. Nevertheless, it's damned enthralling... and make for as much a good story as a good History!
When the tulips came to the Netherlands, everyone went crazy. During the tulip craze, bulbs like Semper Augustus sold for more than the cost of a mansion. But did you know that the stories of sailors eating tulip bulbs and mass bankruptcies are not true?
Historian Anne Goldgar shows in her book, "Tulipmania: Money, Honor, and Knowledge in the Dutch Golden Age", that the events around the year 1637 were actually much less dramatic. It was a small-scale speculative bubble, mainly among merchants, without any widespread economic collapse.
Why did the tulip craze become so famous? Goldgar attributes it to Calvinist preachers, who wrote that pride goes before a fall and that the punishment would be that God would strike the greedy with the plague.
There wasn't much more plague than usual, so that part has been dropped. But stories that connect to and support earlier ideas tend to live on, regardless of the underlying facts.
The book "Tulipmania" was a thoughtful and a bit of fun non-fiction historical read.
Anne Goldgar has written an exceptional book. The title of the book might suggest that this would be yet another description of the those first few months of 1637 in Holland with the usual stories of bankrupted chimney sweeps and grasping swindlers.
This is not one of those books. Quite to the contrary, Goldgar demolishes all of those myths with great scholarship and wit. But more importantly, we have a meticulously researched social history of the rising passion and delight for the tulip that she uses to shine a mirror on the connections between individuals and groups in seventeenth century Holland. It bears reading along with Deborah Harkness's The Jewel House that also serves to illuminate how science and natural history formed complex interconnections of people that - in many cases - crossed usual social barriers.
One of the greatest reading delights of my 2019 came right at the end. Highly recommended.
"As we have discovered that, among known transactions, those involved with bulbs of high value were for the most well-off merchants who appear not to have gone bankrupt after the fall in prices, a lack of major effects on the economy will also be relatively unsurprising. It seems that, amazing as some prices will have been to some contemporaries, it was for the most part not 'utter ruin' that prompted the clamoring for lawsuits in the Haarlem town hall in 1637." (250)
"But the damage was, for the post part, not financial. It was the confusion of values, the breakdown of honor, and the destruction of trust bound up in the events of the 1630s that caused this damage to Dutch society. These led, at the very least, to bitter disputes and anger, and even, it seems, to a questioning of truth and of reality itself." (304)
This book re-examines the Tulip bubble of 1636-7. Its premise is that everything we all have read in "Extraordinary Popular Delusions", in Burton Malkiel, and elsewhere is based on flawed documents. All of these derive from a single 18th century source (or from MacKay who used this same source) that drew its information from 17th century pamphlets. The pamphlets were written with didactic or moralizing intent rather than as actual history. They exaggerated the spread of the speculation in society and its economic impacts of the Dutch economy. The book asserts that the Tulipmania we all know never really happened. There was a rise in prices, but the trade was confined to a fairly small community of traders with a high concentration within the Mennonite religious sect. The records indicate few bankruptcies resulting from the collapse in prices. The plague in Holland in 1636 led to inherited wealth and a new attitude toward earthly pleasure also encouraged the bubble. One interesting financial aspect to the actual trade is that for seven months of the year, the bulbs stay in the ground. The trade depended heavily on forward markets and prices. That is why the collapse led to some problems of honor among the merchants - with a forward contract the temptation to renege is high when prices fall. There is also the problem we saw in the repo fails situation in 2008 when contracts are daisy-chained; one failure to deliver disrupts an entire series of trades. The book can be a bit of a long read. Goldgar, the author, is fairly detailed on the development of tulips as objects of beauty, for the newly prosperous merchant class of Holland in the Golden Age. She goes then into the society that engaged in the tulip trade and how small this group was and how disputes were settled. Finally the book begins to address the tulip market. The main point is that the pamphlets that misled later readers reflected uncertainty about the new social mobility, the rise of new classes and the impact on traditional notions such as value and honor made all the more severe by the stress of dishonored contracts. In the end, however, such revisionist history is satisfying. It makes more sense of what is usually cited as simply the madness of crowds.
I wrote my extended essay on tulipmania and this was by far the most thorough and authoritative book that I could find.
Refusing to be caught up in the excitement of the story (like others such as Dash do), Goldgar looks at "tulipmania" in a methodical and historical way. She questions, like any good historian should, the primary source data from which we have drawn so much about the story and in doing so paints a much more realistic picture of the crisis.
This book is for those who want an honest recount of the story, not an entertaining fallacy. As a result, it is a bit dry (hence why I only gave it 3 stars; not 4).
Definitely comprehensive but so dense. Too dense. There's a lot in the takeaway; I understand tulipmania in context, and historically, so much better. But I found myself skimming, skipping, and reading paragraph and chapter ends to catch the distillation of the thesis and conclusions.
For that, it's well researched and a solid argument for turning the stereotyped notion of what tulipmania was, what it caused, and its ripple effects. With beautiful illustrations. There was just a lot to wade through presented in too compact a space. I can see the breaking the book down into more discrete chapters and lessening the reiterations greatly aiding to smooth the read.
An account of one of the first recorded economic bubbles. However, the book was, for my tastes overly technical. I would have been far more interested in a more social history instead of this intersection of art history and economics. The most interesting sections dealt with the individuals caught up in the economic boom and crash. They were too few and much too long between.
I'm excited to read this book. I love tulips, grow tulips, & seek to find and plant rare varieties of tulips. Tulips in Holland were traded much as we trade on the stock market today. The first were thought to be like a radish or a turnip, & the Dutch ate them.
so far i'd call this book very ...helpful. i've learned more than i maybe cared to know but do appreciate the author's take on history and how she always manages to keep it contextualized. and she signed it while we were in amsterdam to boot.