I discovered Zeldin when we were searching for inspiration for a series of special dinners at De Vijverschie. Someone pointed us to the Muse Dinners in London, a sublime idea: hundreds of tables for two; strangers sitting face to face, with a placemat full of questions beneath the menu to guide a meaningful conversation. No small talk, but true conversation – from conversari: to dwell together, to stay, to be in company. “How would you like people to remember you?” “When was the last time you truly felt alive?” Questions that demand real listening. Real presence.

An Intimate History of Humanity is the natural outcome of that same spirit. Not a chronological account of battles or revolutions, but a finely woven fabric of human experience – of desires, doubts, triumphs, and fears. Zeldin interlaces the lives of contemporary French women with historical narratives that show how some themes are timeless. How people relate to work, to love, to the fear of rejection. How friendship changes across centuries. How power, vulnerability, and curiosity continuously shape – and connect – us.

What makes the book so special is its tone. Zeldin is not an all-knowing narrator, but a humble guide. He sees history as something that lives within us, not something we leave behind. He believes that real change doesn’t come from political systems, but from conversation. From empathy. From listening.

The chapters bear titles like How some people have acquired an immunity to loneliness or Why there has been more progress in cooking than in love. Each one opens a door to another era and another perspective. Zeldin shows not only that history is intimate, but that intimacy is what defines our history.