Reviewed by Alicita Rodriguez
9.7.07

Tom Zoellner’s account of the diamond trade, appropriately titled The Heartless Stone, traces the economic and cultural history of the prismatic gem. Zoellner also co-wrote An Ordinary Man, the autobiography of Paul Rusesabagina, the hotel manager who sheltered thousands from the Rwandan genocide (subject of the film Hotel Rwanda ). Given Zoellner’s reportorial experience in Africa, The Heartless Stone could have concentrated on the continent’s diamond mines, especially given the link between the precious stone and political instability. By now, many people have heard the term “blood diamond”—and no, it is not some rare and valuable variety of red diamond (though those exist). Blood diamond refers to the diamonds that have bankrolled civil wars in Africa. In one instance, guerillas hacked off the arms of possible voters using machetes that had been purchased with diamond profit. But Zoellner’s book does not focus on blood diamonds, the reason being that blood diamonds are only one tiny part of the diamond trade.

Arranged geographically, Zoellner’s chapters explore different aspects of the diamond market via location. For example, we learn of the DeBeers cartel’s marketing strategies in Japan; of polishing mills in India; and of laboratory-made diamonds in Russia. Zoellner’s second chapter, “Desired Results,” explains the birth of the diamond engagement ring (DER). In 1938 DeBeers, which was barred from doing business in the United States due to antitrust laws, hired an advertising agency to convince Americans that we need a diamond to get married. Worldwide depression in the 1930s and Nazi Germany’s drive toward war significantly lowered diamond prices, prompting DeBeers to alter the social rite of marriage. Their marketing ploy hinged on convincing Americans that the DER was a long-standing cultural imperative: “Not once in the early Ayer ads is there a reference to ‘new’—ordinarily a favorite word of admen. […] There was instead an overt expectation that the reader was of course going to play the game just as his ancestors had (even though they probably hadn’t).”

Zoellner’s research for The Heartless Stone is excellent, and the author provides detailed source notes for skeptics. The book’s real strength, however, is its narrative voice. Zoellner injects his own commentary in sarcastic asides, but he also controls those remarks. Take, for example, Zoellner’s description of children in the Central African Republic: “Their T-shirts from Western aid agencies are often dotted with gummy clots; this is where they have smeared the glue to huff through the cloth.” Zoellner lets the juxtaposition of carefully noted images—clotted glue on Western T-shirts—achieve his point. We must thank Zoellner for his lack of didacticism.

The book’s one weakness is the interwoven personal narrative of Zoellner’s failed engagement, which leaves him in possession of a diamond ring. For a book that is full of nuance, the stroke of memoir, heavy in the first and last chapters, seems forced: “Anne was gone forever. […] Nothing was left for me but a palsied sadness whenever I thought of her. That, and the diamond.”

The injection of Zoellner’s love life should not keep anyone from reading the book. Like Salt or Rats, The Heartless Stone transforms one object through amplification, breaking the reader’s automatic associations. Zoellner’s account magnifies the diamond, allowing us to re-see it at the end of a loupe.