First off, I enjoyed Frank McLynn’s biography of Marcus Aurelius when I read it a few years ago. He occasionally felt a bit bias towards his own opinions, and there was quite a lot of tangential material; but it was a full and detailed biography of the man. This 2015 profile of Genghis Khan keeps the details but drops some of the more out there tangents.
We go right from Genghis/Temujin’s birth on the steppes of Mongolian, beyond his death, to the division of his empire into four on the death of his grandson Kublai Khan. McLynn feels authoritative and familiar with the material; in all aspects – military, social, political. The Mongols and Genghis can be a complex topic. There is a contrast between the nomadic warriors and the ease they settle into the use of Chinese style bureaucracy; between the paranoid cruelty of Genghis (even early on) and his religious tolerance. McLynn does catch this, but often he is telling rather than showing.
At times though, I got lost in the sheer scale and speed of Mongol expansion, along with the horrifying death toll. A more focused approach may have presented these with a bit more skill, rather than the epic one volume history given here. McLynn doesn’t get bogged down in too much ethical judgement of the conquest, but as a reader it is hard not to have to pause at points.
Ultimately, I don’t have the reference points for Genghis and the history of the East that I do for Marcus Aurelius and Rome. This was quite a dry read throughout much of the book, and I found myself having to struggle against the temptation to skim read. By the time the Mongols were pushing into Europe I was a little more comfortable, but it isn’t as easy introduction to the Mongols.
The first question that this book should pose is “Why?”. Why do we need another history of the crusades? What does this one add? I had previously enjoyed Peter Frankopan’s Silk Road, he clearly has a head for both the details of politics and the big picture. In this book he applies that talent to the role of Byzantine emperor Alexios Komnenos in the crusade.
This allows him to pick up on a couple of loose threads from the traditional story of the first crusade: why did Alexios send to the west for help? Why and when did the Byzantine cut ties with the crusaders? The obvious historical source for Alexios is the Alexiad, but this is written by his daughter Anna and has an pretty definite bias to it.
The answer to the first question is perhaps the more interesting: why did the Byzantines request help at that point in time? Alexios had been in power for over a decade, and the Alexiad presents him as leading a recovery for earlier military setbacks. The chronology is not as simple as it appears however – Alexios’ reign had military failures too and he was becoming increasingly under threat domestically.
Later in the book Alexios feels more peripheral, but Frankopan presents a case that this distance from the crusaders was in good faith. He was unwilling to leave the capital and risk revolt there, he provided supplies readily in most cases, and where he didn’t it would have appeared futile to do so.
I don’t think this book succeeds at significantly changing the narrative of the first crusade, but it does provide a new slant and point of view. The coverage of the campaigns in Asia Minor is particularly good. Worth reading for anyone who thinks they are already familiar with the story of the crusades.
Sometimes I just don’t gel with a book. This is an interesting account of the history of ancient Mesopotamia from the formation of early cities through the Sumerians, Akkadians and Assyrians to the arrival of the Persians. There is a mix of history, myth, culture and occasional attempts to make this contemporary (generally through Saddam Hussein references). It touches on many different sources and interpretations, and all in a very readable way.
However, some of the modern analogies are forced, and conclusions on early developments towards civilization don’t quite convince (it’s probably impossible to do so many different cultures over so many centuries justice in just 270 pages). Despite these faults, it’s an expert story teller giving the story of an often patchy period of history in an often unexpected way, and there was a lot to love about this book. I particularly enjoyed the descriptions of monuments and artefacts (many of which are on display in Berlin).
My problem – I’m not that familiar with the time period and as a beginner I think I would have preferred a straight forward military/political account. I cannot really appreciate commentaries on Sargon of Akkad or the Assyrians in II Kings, or even the story of Gilgamesh, as much as I’d like without knowing the narrative! Babylon is by no means bad – I have a much greater sense of the culture of the region than I did before, but I can’t help feeling slightly disappointed.
The apostle Paul has a bit of an image problem – he’s often seen as the man who took Jesus ideas and distorted them creating the rigid, repressive elements of Christianity that we still know and love today. In this book, from 1997, he sets out to place Paul in the context of his time and culture and to re-evaluate his work.
For Wilson, Paul has to be seen within the Jewish culture of his time, rather than as an early Christian. He sees Paul’s work as that of a liberal reformer (opening the church to gentiles, removing restrictions) who expected Jesus to return soon (rather than setting up a structure for a long lasting church). His views on women and homosexuality are portrayed as usual for his time and his culture. It was in the time after Paul that the gospels were actually compiled and for Wilson, these writings have as much Paul in them as Jesus – without a source unaffected by him, it becomes hard to charge Paul with a distortion of the message.
At one point Wilson describes Paul as the “first Romantic poet”. He clearly likes Paul as a character and seems to often think the best of him, there is plenty of speculation (he speculates that Paul as a temple guard could have been present at the crucifixion). Despite that, Wilson is critical at other points – looking for independent sources. Through both speculation and scepticism, the author is open about his methods, which perhaps helps the book veer away from being too uneven.
I couldn’t help but compare this book to Robert Fisk’s epic The Great War For Civilisation. James Barr’s book covers the conflict in the Middle East from the Anglo-French meetings in the first world war up to Israeli independence in 1948. Fisk’s book featured his experiences of the Russian and American wars in Afghanistan, the Gulf War, Iraq, the Algerian civil war, Israel, Syria, and whatever bits of Lebanon that didn’t make it into his previous book, Pity the Nation.
Fisk’s book is much more personal. There may be flaws or mistakes, but he is passionate, opinionated, and well informed. It is a devastating read in places. A chapter into his father’s experience with a firing squad in World War One provides context. Jumping from the Armenian Genocide, to torture in Algeria and then to his own investigations into arms manufacturers – it’s not a light read. It is however very, very engrossing.
James Barr’s book has a lighter tone (most things would in comparison to Fisk) and a tendency to focus on historical character, with the distance that seventy plus years can give. It reads like a disaster slow unfolding (especially since we know the current state of things), but there are easier moments (the eccentricities of Orde Wingate or the adventures of T.E Lawrence). Both books have a running theme of mismanagement from the western powers – uninformed decisions, petty diplomacy and careerist politicians and bureaucrats who have landed the role and can’t wait to leave (mixed with the occasional maverick fighting for their own pet cause).
The distance makes Line In The Sand an easier read, and it may have been easier for Barr to write, but ultimately it is a sad prequel to the modern situation in the region. Both books are well written and even handed accounts of the 20th (and 21st) century history of the region, and definitely worth reading.