My comments and shared reviews on a series of publications read during the final two months of 2022, as listed below [four of which were published this year].
- The Boy from Boomerang Crescent’ by Eddie Betts [2022];
- The Rouseabout’ by Rachael Treasure [2007] ;
- Exiles by Jane Harper [2022];
- The Opera House by Peter FitzSimons [2022];
- The Stockmen by Rachael Treasure [2004];
- Heart of Dreaming by Di Morrissey [1991];
- A Riverman’s Story’ by E.M. ‘Mick’ Kelsall [1986] and,
- The Book of Roads and Kingdoms [2022].
- ‘Eddie Betts: The Boy from Boomerang Crescent’ by Eddie Betts, published in 2022, 289 pages
A fairly basic, easily read auto biography by Eddie. As someone wrote – “Betts is a true giant of the AFL. With a career boasting 350-plus games, over 600 goals, multiple All-Australian nods and Goal of the Year awards, he has earned a rare league-wide popularity”. As noted on the front cover – ‘Sometimes funny, sometimes tragic, and always honest’ – a lot of pre-publication publicity was centred on his views about racism and associated factors, but Eddie was fairly [in my view] ‘calm’ on that side of things, saying it as he saw it, but not going over the top in terms of massive tirades about the problem, simply highlighting the various issues when they arose, and providing an honest but reasoned view in each instance. He was in Adelaide of course when the ‘pre-season training course saga’ occurred and was also there when the Adelaide coach was murdered by a family member – honest descriptions of the trauma, and heart ache etc, that arose at those times. He highlighted the return to Carlton for his final two seasons, considered that time to be his ‘return home’ in football terms.
The theme of his book – “It’s a long hard road from the Nullarbor to the MCG’
A popular comment shared by most book sellers, etc was –
“How does a self-described ‘skinny Aboriginal kid’ overcome a legacy of family tragedy to become an AFL legend? One thing’s for sure: it’s not easy. But then, there’s always been something special about Eddie.
Betts grew up in Port Lincoln and Kalgoorlie, in environments where the destructive legacies of colonialism – racism, police targeting of Aboriginal people, drug and alcohol misuse, family violence – were sadly normalised. His childhood was defined by family closeness as well as family strife, plus a wonderful freedom that he and his cousins exploited to the full – for better and for worse.
When he made the decision to take his talents across the Nullarbor to Melbourne to chase his footballing dreams – homesickness be damned – everything changed. Over the ensuing years, Betts became a true giant of the sport with a league-wide popularity rarely seen in the hyper-tribal AFL.
Along the way, he battled his demons before his turbulent youth settled into responsible maturity. Today, the man the Melbourne tabloids once dubbed ‘bad boy Betts’ is a dedicated husband and father, a respected community leader and an increasingly outspoken social activist”
From a series of reviewers, the following are some of the principal facts about Eddie and the book that are highlighted.
Eddie Betts takes us from his humble beginnings as a kid chasing a footy around a park in contests with his brothers and extended family, to a stellar 17-year career in the AFL. A small forward with an uncanny ability to read the play, he played 350 games with Carlton (2005 to 2013, 2020 to 2021) and Adelaide (2014 to 2019), kicked 640 goals, was a member of three All Australian teams (2015, 2016, 2017), won four AFL Goal of the Year Awards (2006, 2015, 2016, 2017) and was chosen as a member of Indigenous All-Stars, All-Stars and (Australian) international teams (against Irish Gaelic Football players). He participated in one Grand Final in 2017 when Adelaide were soundly defeated by Richmond.
But this is much more than a ‘Glory Book’.
Eddie Betts is an Indigenous Australian. He begins his book by paying tribute to the football skills of his grandfather, Edward Frederick Betts, and recounting his death on the floor of a Port Lincoln prison cell. In 1968, his grandfather attended a hospital feeling unwell, but was only given a cursory examination. He checked himself out, but later returned to the hospital, complaining of a pain in his stomach. He became ‘increasingly agitated’ about the lack of attention. The hospital called the police and he was arrested for being intoxicated. He died of heart failure later that day; he was not intoxicated. Eddie Betts sees the major function of his book as being to educate readers to what it means to be a Blackfulla (his spelling) in contemporary Australia. He writes:
I know that playing footy has given me a platform and if I can use it to educate people about what it’s like growing up in an environment where it’s seen as normal for the police to take people away, then it might help.
Throughout The Boy From Boomerang Crescent Betts emphasises the importance of being with his mob and how it gives him a sense of stability and belonging.
When I think back to my childhood, what I really recall is that it was all about family. We never went without and we were raised with a strong sense of belonging. Our family made sacrifices for each other and we learned to put others before ourselves. We were taught to respect our Elders and our traditions, and, most importantly, we were taught to have a strong sense of self-identity.
Betts provides accounts of how mobs – whether a group of Indigenous players, or a family – help each other out; how people open up their homes to young players, giving them somewhere to stay and a place to feel welcome as they embark on their footy careers. He always seems to be happiest when there are lots of people around, with everyone sharing babysitting, child-minding, food preparation and other chores. When he was drafted by Carlton, his mother, aunt, sisters and cousins came across from Kalgoorlie to keep him company as he embarked on his career.
On a couple of occasions Betts refers to racism he experienced as a player. After he won the Goal of the Year Award in 2006, he received a new car (which he could keep for a year). Driving around Melbourne he was stopped by police who assumed he had stolen this flash new car. He also refers to hate mail he received on social media and racist abuse from fans at games. Once he wanted to go public on a racist letter he had received and was talked out of it by Adelaide, something that he regrets.
… essentially they talked [me] into not saying anything. Upon reflection, they were trying to minimise any type of media circus before my game, but maybe this was more important than the game itself?
This seems to have occurred at about the same time that the Indigenous Sydney Swans star Adam Goodes was being routinely booed by spectators, which the AFL failed to address. On another occasion, a spectator at a ‘Showdown’ in a game against Port Adelaide racially abused Eddie Betts and threw a banana at him. To their credit, the Port Adelaide supporters called it out. On this occasion both clubs
Clubs look for an edge in trying to achieve sporting success. Adelaide was one of the stronger clubs during the time Eddie Betts was there, reaching, and ultimately losing, the 2017 Grand Final. Following this loss, Adelaide entered into an arrangement with a group called Collective Minds. The longest chapter in the book is devoted to Collective Minds and a training camp they held prior to the 2018 season. This involved placing players under physical and psychological pressure that, it was claimed, would enhance their ability to perform and compete. As part of this, participants were given a one-hour phone consultation with a counsellor.
While at the camp participants were restrained and required to perform a physical task while under duress. While this was going on, Betts says,
I heard things yelled at me that I had disclosed to the camp’s counsellors about my upbringing. All the people present heard these things. By the time I got my teammates off my back, I was exhausted, drained and distressed about the details being shared. Another camp-dude jumped on top of me and started to berate me about my mother, something so deeply personal that I was absolutely shattered to hear it came out of his mouth.
Then:
This scenario was repeated for each and every one of the boys and we were all recruited to provide the verbal abuse aimed at our teammates. I will live with this shame for the rest of my life.
The camp finished and what had transpired was supposed to be kept in-house, presumably with Adelaide marching on to football glory. The story got out, it split the club, heads rolled, and Adelaide has been in the bottom half of the ladder ever since. It is difficult to escape the conclusion that Adelaide failed in its duty of care to provide its employees with a safe working environment. A similar fate befell Essendon when they experimented with drugs to enhance success on the field in 2013; it is still languishing in the bottom half of the table.
Eddie Betts comes across as a person for whom the glass is always half full. He realises that his skills as a footballer have given him a happy and fulfilled life. When he embarked on his second year with Carlton he was unable to read or write. The Australian Football League Players’ Association provided tutors to help players like him, and he was smart enough to jump on board and learn how to read and write and help others in a similar position. He has gone on to publish two children’s books, My Kind and My People, as part of his Eddie’s Lil’ Homies series.
2. ‘The Rouseabout’ by Rachael Treasure, pub in 2007, 343 pages.
This was the 4th of Rachael’s novels I have read, as usual, set in a rural Australian environment, this time, in the main, in Tasmania, about rural families. An easy to read and entertaining book. I am one of Rachael’s hundreds of Face Book friends, and apart from her novels [still a few to catch up on] I enjoy her many ‘rural’ related postings of her farm life, her animals, and her attitudes to environmental issues, all of which come in varying degrees through her novels.
A brief summary – “ Kate Webster is a loveable larrikin who likes to play hard now and worry about the consequences later. She can’t help mucking up the opportunities life gives her. Rocked by the death of her mother, she takes on a dare at one of Australia’s wildest rural social events – a Bachelors & Spinsters ball – to ‘scalp’ gorgeous farm boy Nick McDonnell. It’s a dare that changes everything. For just as Kate is ready to start her new life, away from her grieving father and the pressures of the family farm, she discovers she is pregnant. Now, several years later, with toddler Nell by her side, it’s time for Kate to come home to face the music – and the father of her child . . .”
Set on the beautiful island of Tasmania, where Rachael Treasure once kicked up her own heels at B&S balls, The Rouseabout is an unforgettable story about discovering the things that truly matter, and finding love that lasts
[Rachael Treasure lives in Southern Tasmania with her two teenage children and husband Daniel. Together they are establishing the educational Ripple Farm Landscape Healing Hub to share regenerative agricultural principles and Natural Sequence Farming techniques. Rachael’s first novel, Jillaroo, blazed a trail in the Australian publishing industry for other rural women writers and is now considered an iconic work of contemporary fiction.
Rachael began her working life as a jillaroo before studying at Orange Agricultural College (now University of Sydney), and received a BA of Communications at Charles Sturt University. She has worked as a journalist on many publications in Australia’s rural print sector and for ABC rural radio.]
3. ‘Exiles’ by Jane Harper, published in 2022, 410 pages.
Another of Harper’s mystery rural environment novels set mainly here in Victoria.
Not sure why, but I found this novel a little too drawn out, with a rather tame ending as the ‘villains’ in the story were revealed… a quiet mystery that centres on two unsolved crimes in a small town in Southern Australia. I took myself away from a couple of quite serious and heavier books for a bit of light reading, which Exiles proved to be.
As a brief summary – At a busy festival site on a warm spring night, a baby lies alone in her pram, her mother vanishing into the crowds. A year on, Kim Gillespie’s absence casts a long shadow as her friends and loved ones gather deep in the heart of South Australian wine country to welcome a new addition to the family.
Joining the celebrations is federal investigator Aaron Falk. But as he soaks up life in the lush valley, he begins to suspect this tight-knit group may be more fractured than it seems.
Between Falk’s closest friend, a missing mother, and a woman he’s drawn to, dark questions linger as long-ago truths begin to emerge. An outstanding novel, a brilliant mystery and a heart-pounding read from the author of The Dry, Force of Nature, The Lost Man and The Survivors
But as I suggested, a little drawn out – yet I suppose that is the essence of a mystery!!
4. ‘The Opera House’ by Peter Fitzsimons’, published in 2022, 560 pages.
A wonderful and interesting read – the story extended over many years with the planning, construction, and early years of the completed building. A great deal of architectural and engineering detail, which at times was well beyond my comprehension. The human side of the whole process dealt with in considerable detail, and the long term affect on the original architect, Jorn Utzon from Denmark, his family, and many of the other individuals associated with the project over two or three decades. Written in Fitzsimons’ typical writing style
From the general shared synopsis of this book, we read – “Epic and engaging, in The Opera House Australia’s greatest storyteller captures the drama and history of Australia’s most iconic building.
On a sacred site on the land of the Gadigal people, Tubowgule, a place of gathering and storytelling for over 60,000 years, now sits the Sydney Opera House. It is a breathtaking building recognised around the world as a symbol of modern Australia. Along with the Taj Mahal and other World Heritage sites, it is celebrated for its architectural grandeur and the daring and innovation of its design. But this stunning house on what is now called Bennelong Point also holds many sorrows, secrets and scandals. In this fascinating and impeccably researched biography, Peter FitzSimons exposes these secrets, marvels at how this magnificent building came to be, details its enthralling history and reveals the dramatic stories about the people whose lives were affected, both negatively and positively, by its presence. Ambition, dispossession, betrayal, professional rivalry, sexual intrigue, murder, bullying and breakdowns are woven into the creation of this masterpiece of human ingenuity. The Opera House shares the extraordinary stories connected to this building that are as mesmerising as the light catching on its white sails”.
Now in looking for a professional review of the book, I turned to the MusicTrust.com for the opinions of the writer there, Loretta Barnard [from the 3rd July, 2022]
“Where a more academically inclined text might prompt a bit of skim-reading, The Opera House is utterly engrossing. Definitely no skimming.”
‘I sometimes wonder whether those future architectural historians who will write about the Sydney Opera House will understand how largely its fate was influenced by the politics of the state of New South Wales – straight, knock-down, drag-out party politics’. So wrote John Yeomans back in 1968. Construction on this challenging project began in 1959, and at the time Yeomans was writing, it was still be another five years before completion. At its opening in October 1973, Queen Elizabeth remarked that while the Sydney Opera House had captured the world’s imagination, ‘I understand that its construction has not been totally without problems’. An understatement, to say the least.
In this weighty tome, author Peter Fitzsimons takes us on a journey detailing the extraordinary history of arguably Australia’s most iconic building, one of the most recognisable buildings in the world. From the prologue right through to the epilogue, he tells a sprawling story, one that encompasses many changes not only to Sydney but to the nation. The place we know as Bennelong Point, named because it was ‘gifted’ to senior Aboriginal man Bennelong by Governor Phillip in 1791, was always a place of music and storytelling; men and women of the Eora Nation maintaining their ceremonies in spite of the unwelcome presence of the white invaders. By 1821, however, Governor Macquarie’s fort, designed by convict architect Francis Greenway, had well and truly replaced Bennelong’s stone hut and wiped out any prospect of ceremony, music or even simple enjoyment of the natural environment. But the new building, intended to defend the colony, was ridiculed as a useless fortification and by 1830, officers were putting on theatrical performances at the site. By the turn of the twentieth century, Fort Macquarie was demolished to make way for a tram depot. But something more ambitious was in the offing for Bennelong Point, something that would change the face of Sydney forever, and – as befits the site – music and storytelling were at its core.
The Opera House is structured to allow readers to gain a sense of various relevant events happening simultaneously but in different places, with the result that the overall historical picture and context of these events is immediately apparent. It’s a terrific approach, and while some purists may not like his occasional novelistic writing style, FitzSimons succeeds in making the reader feel immersed in the subject rather than simply reading about it.
Chapter 1, for instance, interweaves significant events such as the establishment of the Australian Broadcasting Commission in 1932 and its effect on the national landscape – by the end of the 1930s, the ABC’s reputation as a source of news and quality entertainment was unequalled – with an introduction to the young Jørn Utzon, who by the end of his architecture studies in Denmark in the 1940s, was already garnering praise for his exceptional and unorthodox designs. We move then to the ABC’s visionary general manager Charles Moses who by 1946 had convinced the board to establish full ABC orchestras in every state, beginning with the Sydney Symphony Orchestra. Sydney’s Town Hall was then the major venue for such artistic events, but the idea of an opera house, first mooted back in 1928 by noted theatrical entrepreneur Benjamin Fuller, was now at the forefront of the NSW premier’s mind.
By now I’ve read only about 35 pages, and while, like many people interested in Australia’s yesteryears, I already knew much of the history of these early times, already I’ve learned a great deal more – and in cracking detail. This is a meticulously researched and referenced work, FitzSimons acknowledging his masterful team of researchers. And it’s a real page turner. It’s not for nothing that he’s a best-selling author. Where a more academically inclined text might prompt a bit of skim-reading, The Opera House is utterly engrossing. Definitely no skimming.
It’s difficult writing a short review when there’s so much to say about this book. FitzSimons appears to have covered everything: from the nitty-gritty of how the planning committee settled on an international competition to find a suitable architect and how they reached their decision; to the myriad steps and legion of professionals needed to make Utzon’s design a reality; and even how the project played a part in the 1960 abduction and murder of eight-year-old Bondi boy Graeme Thorne, a tragic case that gripped the nation.
The main players are many and varied. That their roles and personalities are described so well gives the whole book a tangibility, a characteristic not always evident in dry historical accounts. Of course, Jørn Utzon is a towering presence. Obviously his inventive, brilliant design is central to the book, but there’s a great deal about his pre-Opera House years, the way he worked, his family and colleagues; and notably the way he was received in Australia. He was embraced by Sydneysiders, who were excited about having a world-class opera house in their city, one that would rival the greatest opera houses in Europe.
There’s a wealth of stories told across 18 chapters, with much to relish, such as the exceptional cultural legacy of celebrated English conductor Eugene Goossens, who headed both the Sydney Symphony Orchestra and the NSW Conservatorium of Music between 1947-1956, and the public shame of his ignominious fall from grace. It was a sad end for a man whose personal vision of a grand opera house on Bennelong Point played a large part in giving us the architectural masterpiece that sits there today. From 1956 onwards, his early contribution was shamelessly ignored by the powers that be, and it was with a happy sense of justice that I read the final paragraphs of the last chapter.
There’s the political wherewithal and ‘let’s get it done’ manner of NSW Labor premier JJ Cahill, who’s surely worth a biography of his own. That Cahill’s Labor government was keen to surge ahead with Utzon’s inspired design surprised many who carried the stereotypical attitude that the so-called working class isn’t interested in culture. Indeed, over the turbulent period of the building’s construction, the most obstructionist views came from the conservative side of politics. In fact, it’s fair to say that the Liberal government was openly antagonistic towards the entire enterprise. Robert Askin, Liberal premier between 1965-1975, had long been vehemently opposed to the idea of an opera house. His Minister for Public Works, Davis Hughes, was particularly aggressive in his dealings with Utzon. Of course, in a project of this magnitude, things didn’t always go to plan. There were setbacks aplenty and costs soared, helping to feed the staggering political argy-bargy surrounding the project.
One of the book’s strengths is that FitzSimons not only includes such things as the combative correspondence between Utzon and Hughes, but also media reports, and letters from the general public to newspaper editors. By 1965, the architect was being viewed as either a visionary or as an ‘irresponsible artist’; he was pilloried in the press for not foreseeing any logistical contingencies, thus allowing costs to blow out. Readers are thus given a very rounded picture of the changing fortunes of both Utzon and his creation. As we know, Utzon resigned in 1966 and went back to Denmark. He never returned to see the how his Opera House was ultimately completed by architects Peter Hall, David Littlemore and Lionel Todd.
The Opera House contains many little-known nuggets of information about the project and the people involved. I found the story of filmmaker John Weiley and his documentary made in the mid-1960s startling. Readers are given insights into crucial roles played by engineers such as Ove Arup and Jack Zunz; we learn about public protests following Utzon’s resignation; and we see the personal toll that Stage III of construction put on those tasked with completing the job.
This is a thoroughly researched examination of the history of the Sydney Opera House from conception to completion, with a concluding epilogue that tells us what happened to the major and minor players in the whole story. I would have liked more photographs, but perhaps that’s quibbling. The book also contains detailed endnotes, a wide-ranging bibliography and comprehensive index. This is not only a valuable reference book on the building that American architect Frank Gehry said ‘changed the image of the entire country’, it’s also a smashing read.
5. The Stockmen’ by Rachael Treasure’, published in 2004. 374 pages.
Written with the normal theme basically of a rural landscape and environment about the people of small town scenarios. Easily read over a short period in a style that you don’t want to put it aside, but continue to search for the mystery sitting behind the broad storyline. It’s one of those novels that moves between two periods of time.
Thoroughly enjoyable, perhaps dragged out a bit too much to the ultimate revelations of the story-line. There are in fact a number of female Australian authors, who perhaps write on a similar theme, each having produced a series of successful novels which tend to reflect a rural and/or small-town lifestyle.
The generally accepted review of the book reads as follows:
“Rosie Highgrove-Jones grows up hating her double-barrelled name. She dreams of riding out over the wide plains of the family property, working on the land. Instead she’s stuck writing the social pages of the local paper.
Then a terrible tragedy sparks a series of shocking revelations for Rosie and her family. As she tries to put her life back together, Rosie throws herself into researching the haunting true story of a 19th century Irish stockman who came to Australia and risked his all for a tiny pup and a wild dream. Is it just coincidence when Rosie meets a sexy Irish stockman of her own? And will Jim help her realise her deepest ambitions – or will he break her heart?
The Stockmen moves effortlessly between the present and the past to reveal a simple yet hard-won truth – that both love and the land are timeless” .
As with the earlier reviewed novel [The Rouseabout], a great bit of light pleasant reading.
6. A Riverman’s Story’ by E.M. ‘Mick’ Kelsall, published in 1986, 265 pages.
Much of the story centred around the Moama area and adjacent towns in the area of the Murray River during the1920’s/1930’s period. This book certainly brought out the difficult conditions that many had to live under in that period, especially with no permanent employment and the dangers of alcohol for eg as being the only really option of release from the daily grind. Seemingly, the author takes it all with a ‘grain of salt’ despite the many challenges that life throws up for him, from a very young age. Described by one commentator, referring to the author ‘Mick’, as ‘one of the great characters of the Riverboat days of the Murray River’.
In our modern relative comfort and security, I have to say this book does not depict a very pleasant way of surviving from day to day in those times for the less well-off!!
‘Goodreads’ reviews the ‘A Riverman’s Story’ as follows.
The Murray River was young Mick Kelsall’s playground as he grew up among the battlers in the Echuca district in a time of chronic rural un-employment. Later, like his father, he gave his strength in the tough world of the barges and timber getters, fruit pickers, labourers and tramps who struggled for survival around the river towns.
Mick’s story of a rough and tumble life on the edge of disaster is full of gusto- the rough schooling, the riverside gangs, the fruit stealing, hunting, fishing, trespassing and troublemaking have Mick and his mates a mere half step ahead of authority.
But the Murray River, finding any work and helping to keep his family together are the three forces in Mick’s life and draw him inevitably to follow two old drinking mates, his cantankerous father and the scandalous Uncle Bob, on their forays on the river and in the bush.
The river is always part of life- it’s beauty and tranquility touching a young man’s soul, its floods and hidden hazards treating life, its currents carrying his outrigger barge, like a floating juggernaut, to the mills.
A Riverman’s Story is a story as rich and varied as the river itself-always moving, sometimes turbulent and a witness to a great parade of life.
7. ‘Heart of Dreaming’ by Di Morrissey’, and early novel published in 1991, this was a PAN paperback edition of 640 pages.
I read this over about 3 days, easy read, finishing in a rather tearful manner, with one of Di’s ‘happy’ endings! Although some of these stories tend to be a bit ‘over the top’ in terms of imagination, like the novels of Rachael Treasure and other Australian female authors, I enjoy collecting and reading their novels, generally, though not always in Di’s case, based in a rural Australian setting – this one centred in western and central NSW outback areas, and also Sydney in the 1980s [the Opera House has being open for a while] around the Balmain and Randwick areas, and also up in the Blue Mountains.
From the general publicity blurb about this novel, we read:
“The book that launched Di Morrissey as Australia’s most popular female novelist.
At twenty-one, Queenie Hanlon has the world at her feet and the love of handsome bushman TR Hamilton. Beautiful, wealthy and intelligent, she is the only daughter of Tingulla Station, the famed outback property in the wilds of western Queensland. At twenty-two, her life is in ruins. A series of disasters has robbed her of everything she has ever loved. Everything except Tingulla – her ancestral home and her spirit’s Dreaming place…
And now she is about to lose that too………An extraordinary story of thwarted love and heroic struggle, Heart of the Dreaming is the tale of one woman’s courage and her determination to take on the world and win”
I think this was in fact her debut novel and formed part of a series. I believe I only have three of Di’s novels to track down of the 29 she has now written – The Last Rose of Summer [1992], The Last Mile Home [1994] and Kimberley Sun [2002].
8. ‘The Book of Roads & Kingdoms’ [From the wonders of imperial Baghdad to the dark-lands at the ends of the earth] by Richard Fidler, published in 2022, 430
As with Fidler’s previous books a lot of fascinating history, much detailed material, names and places – my only difficulty was keeping track of the various characters and place names over the centuries covered by the book. I soon realised it was essentially a history of the rises and falls of Islam, and the many associated powers and kingdoms that won, dominated and usually eventually lost to a stronger power, so much cruelty over the centuries as one group of people replaces another.
I guess there is little surprise in that – when brother plots against brother, or son murders father to achieve his ‘believed’ right – no surprise that an invading force would show no compassion or care for those they are invading, repeated time and again over the centuries, Christian annihilating Muslim cities, Islamic armies destroying Christian civilisations., and of course the Mongol generations of Genghis Khan and their paths of destruction for the power of domination and ownership, to name just a few examples.
As just one depiction from hundreds of years of invasion and counter-invasion, and the regular ‘slaughter’ of peoples that accompanied such incursions, we look at the early 1200’s and the lead-up to the destruction of the Islamic 500 year domination through Baghdad, as the then city to the north, Merv, is obliterated
From pages 348-349:
“With his enemy dead and his need for vengeance satisfied, Genghis Ghan could now return to the East to resume his invasion of China. Before leaving, he entrusted his youngest son, Tolui with the task of subduing all of Khorasan and capturing the great city of Merv. Once again, the city’s garrison refused to surrender, but the civilian leaders, torn by dissension, buckled under the pressure and opened the city’s gates.
Bukhara and Samarkand would one day recover from the Mongol assaults, but Tolui ensured that Merv never would. Seated in a golden chair outside the city, he ordered every last inhabitant to leave the city and then looked on impassively as almost every one of them was slaughtered. Historians place the city’s population at the time at 200,000. The killing took four days and nights to complete.
Merv, now emptied of its population, was sacked and its complex irrigation system wrecked. The gleaming mausoleum of the Sultan Sunjar, capped with a glazed turquoise dome, was Rnsacked and demolished in the search for treasure. Three weeks after the massacre, thousands of people who had been hiding in boltholes and cellars emerged from the rubble, but were picked off by Mongol patrols kept behind for this purpose. Afterwards, Mongol soldiers built towering pyramids with the skulls of the dead.
Having won control of these emptied cities, the Mongols would here and there attempt to rebuild and repopulate them. But Merv, a metropolis once renowned for its orchards, gardens, mosques and palaces was too far gone. Today the site of what was briefly one of the world’s largest cities, is a forgotten, silent ruin in modern-day Turkmenistan. Mammoth brickworks poke up from the arid ground like broken teeth…”
Using the blurb from the book’s cover, and as repeated through many publisher’s promos , we read:
“A lost imperial city, full of wonder and marvels. An empire that was the largest the world had ever seen, established with astonishing speed. A people obsessed with travel, knowledge and adventure. When Richard Fidler came across the account of Ibn Fadlan – a tenth-century Arab diplomat who travelled all the way from Baghdad to the cold riverlands of modern-day Russia – he was struck by how modern his voice was, like that of a twenty-first century time-traveller dropped into a medieval wilderness. On further investigation, Fidler discovered this was just one of countless reports from Arab and Persian travellers of their adventures in medieval China, India, Africa and Byzantium. Put together, he saw these stories formed a crazy quilt picture of a lost world. The Book of Roads & Kingdoms is the story of the medieval wanderers who travelled out to the edges of the known world during Islam’s fabled Golden Age; an era when the caliphs of Baghdad presided over a dominion greater than the Roman Empire at its peak, stretching from North Africa to India. Imperial Baghdad, founded as the ‘City of Peace’, quickly became the biggest and richest metropolis in the world. Standing atop one of the city’s four gates, its founder proclaimed: Here is the Tigris River, and nothing stands between it and China. In a flourishing culture of science, literature and philosophy, the citizens of Baghdad were fascinated by the world and everything in it. Inspired by their Prophet’s commandment to seek knowledge all over the world, these traders, diplomats, soldiers and scientists left behind the cosmopolitan pleasures of Baghdad to venture by camel, horse and boat into the unknown. Those who returned from these distant foreign lands wrote accounts of their adventures, both realistic and fantastical – tales of wonder and horror and delight. Fidler expertly weaves together these beautiful and thrilling pictures of a dazzling lost world with the story of an empire’s rise and utterly devastating fall.
In searching for a professional review of this book, I settled on the Russell Wenholz commentary, which appeared in the Canberra Times of the 26 November 2022
“The latest book by Richard Fidler is more about kingdoms than roads, and rather than kingdoms, it is about caliphates – caliphates ruled by a line of Caliphs; from the birth of Muhammad (c.570) to the taking of Baghdad by the Mongols of Genghis Khan (1258). For most of that time, the Caliphs were based in Baghdad.
Fidler chose to give his book the same title as one of his favourite sources – The Book of Roads and Kingdoms, compiled by Ibn Khordadbeh, “a compendium of maps, trade routes, and descriptions of foreign lands lying north, south, east and west of Baghdad”.
He warmed to his subject. “Medieval Baghdad…an immortal city of the imagination, as a dream-like labyrinth filled with bold thieves and bottled jinn, giant birds and talking fish, with princes and princely doppelgangers with hidden gardens and houses inhabited by strange and dangerous women…”
Fidler’s work is divided into six “books”. The first begins with the Roman and Persian empires contesting to control the region. Then out of Arabia, led by Muhammed, comes a third power which eclipses them both.
A sequence of Caliphs, their conquests, births, deaths – often assassinations – and battles take the reader to the year 762 and the founding of Baghdad. Wisely, Fidler includes a timeline listing all the events described.
Early in this first book, Fidler makes the point that “the invasion of Christian-dominated lands by the early Islamic State were often cruel and brutal, but they were not the totalising campaigns of religious extermination associated with the modern Islamic army….the early Arab conquests fought to impose political rather than religious supremacy over the subject population.”
The next four books are titled West, East, South and North – the directions of expansion of the Moslem empire from Baghdad.
West: Moslems cross northern Africa, then to Spain, and the Islamic influence on the history of Sicily. There’s also an unsuccessful attempt to conquer Constantinople; they negotiate with Charlemagne and realise the limit of their advance into the Holy Roman Empire.
East: In search of a fabled wall constructed by Alexander the Great, Moslems find traces of ancient cities buried in the sands of the Talamakan desert.
Fidler here, moves forward to the nineteenth century to relate how Europeans investigated this region and found a branch of the Great Wall of China and unique Buddhist habitations – including a repository of ancient documents.
South: Moslem seafarers who sail to East Africa, India and Sri Lanka, and became involved in local rebellions. This Book contains several stories and legends from these regions.
North: A Moslem expedition travels from Baghdad, north, between the Caspian and Aral Seas to the kingdom of the Bulgars on the Upper Volga River – a distance of over 4,000 kilometres.
Fidler’s source for this journey is the work of a conscientious diarist, Ibn Fadlan. He witnessed a horrific Viking funeral ceremony.
The sixth book covers the devastating incursion of Genghis Khan and his “Mongol hordes”. Their brutality exceeded that displayed by the earlier Moslem armies; the word “slaughter” occurs frequently in this final Book. The Mongol campaign culminates with a grandson of Khan reaching Baghdad.
There are a multitude of historical figures in the narrative, with unfamiliar Arabic names. Again, wisely, preceding each of Fidler’s books is a list of the major characters involved. There are also good maps.
The Book of Roads and Kingdoms encompasses a period of 700 years, so Fidler has had to decide which historical persons are most relevant to his story and, having made that decision, he then has to decide which events in the chosen persons’ lives were the most significant and interesting.
This, Fidler has done successfully – all the while being aware that “medieval accounts of true historical events were often spiced with exaggerations and fabrications slanted to suit the prejudices of their intended audiences”.

