Up All Night By Imogen Willetts review – a persuasive dating profile | History books

MeIn this fascinating history of the modern world, scholar and “party historian” Imogen Willetts examines the past 500 years of civilization through the lens of its dark past, with stunning results. He begins by trying to capture what it feels like to walk on a big night, focusing on the phenomenon that, in 1912, sociologist Émile Durkheim called “cooperation”. In another passage, he explains this by mentioning dancing as part of the old traditions of hunting animals, listening to Charli xcx’s 365, or singing along to Sweet Caroline and thousands of other people in the stadium.

This is not a dry academic study, then, its mix of historical research, critical thinking and pop culture references makes for a vivid and compelling read. What Willetts calls “a seemingly superficial act of drinking, dancing, having fun and meeting people” is, of course, much more than that, and he pushes the envelope with skill. Nocturnal can be, or support, revolution, society, creativity, art, love, sex and political change. From Japan to France, from Shanghai to Germany, through many routes to the United States, he examines the history from dusk to dawn.

His most fascinating chapter gives a nod to the story of Weimar-era Berlin, which, he says, is based on modern memories and the musical Cabaret. For him, this is a repetitive and flawed image, based on the experiences of visitors rather than the natives of the area. There was surprisingly little appetite for political satire, for example, although cabaret acts would still be illegal. Dancer Anita Berber is one of the most interesting people here: Willetts describes her daily ritual of the “breakfast elixir”, a fascinating combination of chloroform, ether and white rose petals. On stage, he performed a dance called Morphine and Cocaine, and dipped himself in a bloody urn before spinning around in the air. This shocked many people in 1922, and would still be possible 100 years later.

All the important moments, such as the arrival of disco and the popularity of Studio 54, or the “prostitutes of life” of the Rat Pack in Las Vegas, are here, although Willetts cares about the legends of the past, and is horrified when they reach the end. Although the most famous figures are visible, from Josephine Baker to Billie Holiday to Edie Sedgwick, there is love for countries and people who have lost history, such as New Orleans jazz pioneer Buddy Bolden, who Louis Armstrong believed played the cornet so much that his brain lacked oxygen, which made him crazy.

From the pleasure gardens of the 18th and 19th-century class in London, to the birth of techno in Detroit, each new bright event follows a familiar troubling pattern. New worlds are created by artists, eccentrics and visionaries, often refugees and foreigners. There are new sounds, new dances, new ways to experience sex and love. But these glory days are short-lived, extinguished either by intrigue or by their popularity. Strangers and criminals enter it. Crazy people are recruited, by governments, by organized crime, or, from the mid-1900s onward, by corporations and investors.

Up All Night approaches the present day with a sense of impending doom. After cheerfully admitting that all nightlife is circular, Willetts is clear that we’re in trouble, and he’s sure why. “Cellphones are ruining our nights,” he writes bluntly. The constant possibility of being monitored, gen Z’s fear of being seen as a “disruptor”, the apathy created by digital entertainment: all have contributed to the payment of the “20s” period that should follow the closure of the Covid. But his first words are clear: “We will never be able to feel all the power of the computer,” he writes. After reading this fascinating account of his history, few could resist resuming his search.