The Gunzburgs: A Family Biography by Lorraine de Meaux (Halban Publishers, £25.00)

The Gunzburgs were one of the great Jewish dynasties, along with the Warburgs, Ephrussis and the Rathenaus. Their story, superbly told by French historian Lorraine de Meaux, weaves between finance, culture and Jewish learning. 

All kinds of names pop up, from Turgenev to Diaghilev and Isaiah Berlin. It is a fascinating read.
In 1857, Joseph Gunzburg arrived in Paris from Russia with his family and entourage including “secretaries, tutors, wet-nurses and nannies, coachmen, ladies’ companions, valets and maids, and even a schochet…” 

First, they moved into a luxury hotel on the Rue de Rivoli. But that wasn’t big enough, so Gunzburg built a huge mansion, so big that everyone in the family had their own floor. The palatial residence was full of great art, the finest collection of Meissen porcelain and a library (with its own librarian) full of rare Judaica. 

De Meaux traces the Gunzburgs back to 16th-century Bavaria and follows the family to Vilna, Vitebsk and St Petersburg. By the late-19th century, the Gunzburgs owned large banks in Paris and St Petersburg and had investments in gold mines in eastern Siberia, steel production, and speculated on markets throughout Europe. 

The main part of De Meaux’s book is set in what Eric Hobsbawm famously called “The Age of Capital”. But her heart isn’t really in banking or business. She is more interested in what money buys: society balls and spas, luxury mansions and huge dowries. She is particularly interesting about culture. The Gunzburgs were no philistines. They were immersed in Jewish religion and learning. Joseph — “The Patriarch” — who moved the family to Paris, made sure that they “lived according to daily Orthodox religious practice that no one violated. Prayers were said morning and evening.” He spoke impeccable Hebrew and employed talmudic scholars as well as Hebrew teachers. 

The women prayed in the billiard room and the men in the smoking room. The huge family ate together every Friday. His grandson, David, was an astonishing scholar. He spoke 20 languages, seven of them Semitic.      
The Gunzburgs became renowned philanthropists and supporters of the arts, moving between Jewish and Russian culture. But, after the First World War, the mood darkened, the family scattered and, in the book, the energy flags. The post-war years get barely ten pages, Isaiah Berlin (who married into the family) receives two passing mentions. 

At its best, though, The Gunzburgs is full of big names, fascinating stories and teems with detail. It brings to life an extraordinary moment in modern Jewish history. 

David Herman is a senior JC reviewer