Portugal Books

I am making the journey through The Book of Disquiet with much care and fear, and I think all that you can expect from literature is delivered here with unflinching honesty and heart-breaking tenderness.

Penetrating insight into social affairs, acute awareness of the chaotic absurdity behind the facade of human orderliness, sophist interrogations about universal truths, sadistic playing with one's own feelings, descriptive analysis of the tragic futility of all beings, unfathomable sadness in all human souls. All that was, all that is and all that will be are presented here in the lamenting prose from one of the greatest writers of the twentieth century.

*The Book of Disquiet* is one of those great books that isn't for the great majority of people. Basically a collection of fragments written over the good part of a lifetime and attributed to one of Pessoa's literary alter-egos Bernardo Soares, *Disquiet* was assembled and translated by editor Richard Zenith from a legendary trunkful of unpublished texts discovered after Pessoa's death.

These semi-autobiographical reflections are dominated by an all-pervading world-weariness and negation of ordinary life--a book of disgust, as it were--saved from out and out nihilism only by a sort of idealistic solipsism--a perverse counter-celebration of dream, inertia, solitude, impotence, and failure. From this unlikely recipe, Pessoa manages to distill a formula for taking a morbidly decadent pleasure from a total rejection of the bleak facts of human existence just this side of suicide!

The short texts that make up *The Book of Disquiet* range from philosophical speculations to surrealistic prose poems, from misanthropic diatribes worthy of Dostoyevsky's "underground man," to daily diary entries that reflect on a wide-range of everyday subjects. The result is an exhaustive if uneven and often repetitive text, although through no fault of Pessoa's inasmuch as putting together a finished book from these fragments was a project that eluded him in his shortened life. As an editor, what Zenith has done here--for better and for worse--is give us a text almost scholarly in its completeness. As such, there is a great deal of redundancy in this edition of *Disquiet.* It's hard to imagine that Pessoa wouldn't have cut and shaped a finished version differently. The fact that he didn't, however, is not only a consequence of his short life, but of his own documented indecision of just how to proceed with the task.

And yet, as Zenith convincingly points out in his introduction, the very "messiness" of *Disquiet* is part of its charm; it's unfinished and indeterminate nature is a perfect realization of Pessoa's message--a reflection in prose form of the man and his beliefs. While many readers--and occasionally I was one of them--might wish for an abridged and "cleaned-up" version of *Disquiet* it's ultimately hard to complain about what, in the end, is nothing more egregious than too much of a good thing.

Certainly one of the more unique texts in world literature, *The Book of Disquiet* is a daring assertion of the meaninglessness of life and an unorthodox response to despair through a radical withdrawal from life into an interior realm of the literary imagination.

"Tedium", the most recurrent theme in these collections, by Pessoa's (or, excuse me, one of his "heteronym's") definition is the "serious disease of feeling there's nothing worth doing." Another one of these heteronyms remarks at an earlier point that "...the very idea of reading vanishes as soon as I pick up a book from the table." This, at any rate, was the effect this book had on me. Normally, I knock off a book of this length in a couple days. It's taken me a month now to complete. Every time I picked up this particular book, I said to myself, time and again, "What's the point? It's just going to be more tedious description of tedium." And I was quite correct. I think most readers would do well to heed another remark made in this book, to wit, that all this has been said before in the book of Ecclesiastes. He might have added that Ecclesiastes is much shorter, more moving and less redundant as well.

What saves The Book of Disquiet from being an utter wash is the conflict essential in it. Pessoa and his heteronyms, despite their sense of life's futility, love literature and words with such utter devotion that living life as if in a book seems the only hope of salvation from the torpor of existence:

"To see all things that happen to us as accidents or incidents from a novel, which we read not with our eyes but with life. Only with this attitude can we overcome the mischief of each day and the fickleness of events." P.211

This, and Pessoa's beautiful use of language, as translated by Robert Zenith in any event, save the day:

"We don't know if what ends with daylight terminates in us as useless grief, or if we are just an illusion among shadows, and reality just this vast silence without wild ducks that falls over the lakes where straight and stiff reeds swoon. We know nothing. Gone is the memory of the stories we heard as children, now so much seaweed; still to come is the tenderness of future skies, a breeze in which imprecision slowly opens into stars. The votive lamp flickers uncertainly in the abandoned temple, the ponds of deserted villas stagnate in the sun, the name once carved into the tree now means nothing, and the privileges of the unknown have been blown over the road like torn-up paper, stopping only when some object blocked their way. Others will lean out the same window as the rest; those who have forgotten the evil shadow will keep sleeping, longing for the sun they never had; and I, venturing without acting, will end without regret amid soggy reeds, covered with mud from the nearby river and from my sluggish weariness, under vast autumn evenings in some impossible distance. And through it all, behind my daydream, I'll feel my soul like a whistle of stark anxiety, a pure and shrill howl, useless in the world's darkness." P.179

Perhaps a bit on the belaboured side anent reeds and rivers and wild ducks---Still, never was meaningless death by sluggishness so gloriously apotheosized. Passages like this make the book worth reading, perhaps. But, caveat lector, don't expect to close the cover with any sense of enchantment. The book, cover to cover, is full of emptiness.

IN THE popular literary imagination, Lisbon is famous for only earthquakes and fires. Quartet has transformed this reputation forever with the first British publication of Portugal's greatest 20th century writer. Reading it in 1991, one gets an exaggerated sense of what it was for Camus and Sartre to discover Kafka.

Devoid of a narrative line, this is really only half of the actual book. Most of Pessoa's writing was published posthumously: this is merely a selection of writings grouped by themes. Pessoa paints a picture of an existence blighted by boredom, decadence and despair.

Nothing can prepare you for this work. No one in the history of literature has written with more pretentiousness and self-indulgence. How Pessoa can present himself as both pathetic and heroic at the same time is a miracle of narcissism. In contemporary terms this is like an adolescent blog. He dismally attempts to disguise his platitudes as lyrical profundity.

" The poet is a faker
Who's so good at his act
He even fakes the pain
Of pain he feels in fact "

As a Portuguese native I am, I must say that Fernando Pessoa was not only a writer, but is to this day a myth, be it in Portugal or abroad. One that thinks that Pessoa "has more name than merit" (as someone said some reviews before) isn't to blame, since he's not Portuguese and so he cannot even imagine what is to read and UNDERSTAND Pessoa's thoughts and poems in Portuguese. To read Pessoa in English or other non-portuguese language would be something like reading Walt Whitman in Portuguese (which would be, in fact, MUCH SIMPLER TO TRANSLATE, since there's no english word that cannot be translated into any other language, unlike Portuguese who has several): the essential (that is : THE SPIRIT AND MANERISM OF THE ORIGINAL LANGUAGE) would be lost.
I strongly advise anyone into poetry and visionarism or out of time characters to check out Pessoa. It will be a life long discovery, that's for sure.

Note: This is part of a critical essay I wrote, which is to be found online at: idol.2ya.com

I have no ambitions and no desires.
To be a poet is not my ambition,
It's my way of being alone.


--Alberto Caeiro: 'The Keeper of Sheep'

Alberto Caeiro is Pessoa's first great heteronym. Caeiro is perhaps my favorite heteronym of the three; although, it is true, I recognize Alvaro de Campos poetic achievement as superior-- Caeiro is nonetheless the most endearing.

The best summarization of Caeiro is given by Pessoa himself: "He sees things with the eyes only, not with the mind. He does not let any thoughts arise when he looks at a flower...the only thing a stone tells him is that it has nothing at all to tell him...this way of looking at a stone may be described as the totally unpoetic way of looking at it. The stupendous fact about Caeiro is that out of this sentiment, or rather, absense of sentiment, he makes poetry."

In a letter written to his friend Adolfo Casais Monteiro, Pessoa described the birth of this heteronym: "[It] was March 8th 1914--I approached a high chest of drawers, and, taking a sheet of paper, I began to write, standing up, as I always write whenever I can. And I wrote thirty or so poems at a stroke in a kind of ecstatic trance, the nature of which I will not be able to define to you. It was the day of triumph in my life and I shall never succeed in living another like that. I opened with the title 'The Keeper of the Flock' ('O Guardador de Rebanhos'); and what followed was that someone emerged from within me, and whom I christened that very moment Alberto Caeiro. Forgive me for the absurdity of the following sentence: my master emerged from within me."


What makes Caeiro such an original poet is the manner he apprehends reality. He does not question anything whatsoever; he calmly accepts the world as it is. Caeiro is indeed a child of sorts: the recurrent themes, as a critic notes, to be found in nearly all Caeiro's poems are wide-eyed child-like wonder at the infinite variety of nature. He is free of metaphysical entanglements (as Campos and Pessoa himself are). Central to his world-view is the idea that in the world around us, all is surface: things are precisely what they seem, there is no hidden meaning anywhere.

He manages thus to free himself from the anxieties that batter his peers; for Caeiro ''things simply exist and we have no right to credit them with more than that.'' Our unhappiness, he tells us, springs from our unwillingness to limit our horizons. Caeiro in this sense is wise: he attains happiness by not questioning, and by thus avoiding doubts and uncertainties.

For Caeiro apprehended reality solely through his eyes, through his senses. What he teaches us is that if we want to be happy we ought to do the same. Octavio Paz called him 'the innocent poet'; true, he is innocent by our standards, and yet: does not his wisdom--experience-- consist precisely in his 'innocence'? Paz made a shrewd remark on the heteronyms: "In each are particles of negation or unreality. Reis believes in form, Campos in sensation, Pessoa in symbols. Caeiro doesn't believe in anything. He exists."

Caeiro is a wonderful invention; is there a poet before him who thinks, or rather, sees as he does? Poetry before Caeiro was essentially interpretative; what poets did was to offer us an interpretation of their perceived surroundings; Caeiro does not do this: instead, he attempts to communicate his senses, his feelings to us, without any interpretation whatsoever.

Caeiro teaches us to apprehend Nature differently; he asks of us, simply, to see what is before us. Poets before him would have made use of intricate metaphors to describe what was before them; not so Caeiro: his self-appointed task is to bring these objects to the reader's attention, as directly and simply as possible. Caeiro sought a direct experience of the objects before him.

It does not surprise us that Caeiro has been called an anti-intellectual, anti-Romantic, anti-subjectivist, anti-metaphysical...an anti-poet, by critics; Caeiro simply--is. He is in this sense very unlike his creator Fernando Pessoa: Pessoa was besieged by metaphysical uncertainties; these were, to a large extent, the cause of his unhappiness; not so Caeiro: his attitude is decidedly anti-metaphysical; he avoided uncertainties precisely by clinging single-mindedly to a certainty: his belief that there is no meaning behind things. Things simply--are.

Caeiro represents a primal vision of reality, of things. He is the pagan incarnate. Indeed Caeiro, Richard Zenith tells us, was not simply a pagan but 'paganism itself'.

The critic Jane M. Sheets, sees the insurgence of Caeiro--who was Pessoa's first heteronym-- as essential in founding the later poetic personas: "By means of this artless yet affirmative anti-poet, Caeiro, a short-lived but vital member of his coterie, Pessoa acquired the base of an experienced and universal poetic vision. After Caeiro's tenets had been established, the avowedly poetic voices of Campos, Reis and Pessoa himself spoke with greater assurance."

I've read many of Pessoa's works and studied him at school. I remenber that after studying some very weel-know poets we reached Pessoa. I also remenber and i'll possibly never forget that after reading some of his poems i just exclaimed out loud "Ei, este gajo e um genio"-"ohh, this guy's a genious".
I write poetry for some years now and i'm always very critic about it. But Pessoa just seems to be ahead of our own critic, sometimes wondering in our own mind, How does he do that !?
Someone hear in Amazon was surprised by the reviews posted here and asked "Is he really that good, or is the translation not so good" Then he just asked if some portuguease reader could clarify it. Well i am portuguease and i tell you he is really that good or even better.
I try the best i can to be objective in my reviews but when we talk about Pessoa we talk about emotions and feelings. After all who can be indifferent to the work that some call the most beatifull writing in the world (Jean-Pierre Thibaudat) and others remember it as the most inspiring author of our time! If i have to be objective i shall say his poems gives me a shiver in my spine...his prose: a moment of silence with my innerself.
About coloquial language, at least the portuguese original texts are not, mostly if you compare them with other famous portuguese poets like Camoes or Bocage.
As to Caeiro`s poetry and other others heteronyms, it is simply his need to see things in a different perpective.
This is a man that recognized himself to have sacrificed his live, his soul, his hapinnes and his mental health to be remenbered, just so that someone, even if only a single person, would remember him. And here he is now...and here we are with him.
Pessoa is that kind of author that doesn?t carries his heart at his mouth and his cause at his pen, this is a very mental experience, a reflexion on basic feelings and senses, such a deep vision on subjectivism that just a man that baunces between the thin line of genious and madness would achieve.
It astonishes...

Just being himself wasn't good enough for Fernando Pessoa, so he divided himself into four distinct, invented personalities ("heteronyms") and wrote poetry from the perspective and in the style of each of them. This in itself is a remarkable feat of literary imagination.

The poetry itself (well, this translation of it) is startling. It's direct and plain-spoken for the most part, even allowing for the personality differences. It may look un-poetic, or even awkward, at first reading. But it sticks. Days after reading, you may find lines and phrases of Pessoa & Co. springing up spontaneously in your head, just because they're so sharp and to the point. Getting to know this multitudinous poet is an invigorating experience. Try it yourself.

I don't speak Portuguese, but I've read Pessoa in Italian translation, and I consider his poetry remarkably powerful. I would think that, based on linguistic similarities, Italian translations in general would be more faithful to the original Portuguese than English would be.
I bought this edition of Pessoa, translated by Richard Zenith, and was so terribly disappointed by the shoddiness of the translation that I was forced to write this review to defend Pessoa. Zenith fails miserably in conveying the sheer haunting power of Pessoa. Zenith's English is too colloquial for the task. Portuguese is not like Russian or Arabic: one would have to work fairly hard to make a translation this bad; or be awfully enamored of one's own poetical abilities, instead of being a faithful conduit of the original language.
You ought to read Pessoa, but find a better translation.

Other reviewers have fully covered the subject matter of this book and explored it's themes. All I can add is that I was deeply impressed and I urge you to read it. As non-sensationalist, believable, historical fiction this has few rivals. Another reviewer mentioned Margaret Yourcenar, and of course this novel concerns a time not far divorced from the setting of her 'Memoirs of Hadrian'. Unlike Yourcenar, de Carvalho writes in a lighter more fluid style, and while both books have a sense of impending decline, DeCarvalho avoids the gloom that pervades Yourcenars work. I can't reccomend this book highly enough.

Many readers have praised Gregory Rabassa's translation, but I found it often jolted to a stop because he had chosen to use such an unfamiliar term. Here are a handful of examples.

Versicles: "Depression had given way to rage, to judge by the hardening of faces and the vigorous way they finished the versicles."

Chiaroscuros: "The surroundings, the shadows, the chiaroscuros, the dazzling window, all gradually took shape again."

Ensorcell: "In any case, why would she have wanted to ensorcell me?"

Desistence: "Aulus left, interpreting - and rightly so - my reconciled silence as desistence."

Quite frankly, I was drawn to Carvalho's excellent novel by a combination of three factors: (1) The title was fascinating; (2) I am a sucker for fiction set in Roman times; and (3) the translator was Gregory Rabassa.

Picture to yourself a basically good men who was the magistrate of a small city in Roman Portugal (then called Lusitania) during the reign of Marcus Aurelius. Lucius Valerius Quintius is basically a good man who is left to his own devices because his social peers could not care to help shoulder the burden of governing.

But suddenly, news is heard of a large group of Moors that have crossed the Mediterranean and are pillaging Lusitanian towns. In addition, a small group of Christians is playing havoc with the local citizenry, who suspect them of cannibalism or worse. Quintius fortifies the town and helps to foil a Moorish attack, but he finds the Christians to be a stickier problem.

To begin with, he is fascinated by Iunia Cantaber, a well-born widow who, as leader of the Christian community, has a lemming drive toward martyrdom. The crises lead to an energizing of the citizenry, who begin to push Quintius farther than he wants and leads to a trial, which has a surprising outcome -- that I will not divulge -- and the outcome is that Quintius is forced to take on the Christians. After the trial, he takes the hint and surrenders his office to retire to his villa.

Christianity has suffered a setback in Tarcisis, but the God who strolls in the cool of an evening bides His time. A good men has been befuddled -- but isn't that always what happens in the political arena?

Carvalho's novel falls under the heading of light fiction. It partakes of a gentle irony that wears well through its length. The translation is by the great Gregory Rabassa, whose renderings of Latin-American fiction by Jorge Amado and Gabriel Garcia Marquez have made his name a standard of quality.

Mario de Carvalho's novel set in the fictional town of Tarcisis during the dying years of Marcus Aurelius reign as Emperor of the Roman Empire fully deserves the Pegasus Prize for Literature dealing as it does with a civic leader's attempt over a six month period to deal with several fundamental issues ending with the trial of fervent Christianity in a small town atmosphere that is itself under social change and duress.
The story concerns the administration of the sole duumvir (the other dying off quite quickly mid-term), Lucius Valerius Quintius, husband of Mara, focusing on two main areas of action. The first is the impending arrival of the human migration of Moors at the city walls, the other the advent of a Christian sect. Weaving into both is his relationship with Rufus Cardillius, aedile-elect and tavernkeeper and with Iunia Cantaber, daughter of the respected equestrian, Maximus Cantaber, who has become a fervent Christian.
After an opening skirmish with Pontius Velutius Modius over the destruction of his house to replace the crumbling city wall and his subsequent suicide and the capture of Arsenna, a highwayman, by his trusted centurion, Aulus, Lucius finds his attempt to emulate his philosopher emperor brings him into odds with the people he is entrusted to care for. His very aloofness removes him from the common mind and he patently struggles at times to understand human nature. All of which stands him in bad stead when he is reluctantly forced to deal with the Christian sect and, more particularly, confront the nature of his personal relationship with Iunia who is determined upon a course of martyrdom. With an assorted supporting cast including Ennius Calpurnius, a senator, Lucius allows events to wash past him in an almost emotionless way as he defends his city from attack and struggles to understand the new religion that has come to his city whilst retaining his philosophical way of life.
Partway through Carvalho returns us to Rome for a flashback at the Colesseum where Lucius is singled out personally by Marcus Aurelius for some advice that remains with his for his entire life, if only when he realises he is not following it.
The novel is beautifully crafted and the inner struggles portrayed in the book are timeless yet vividly drawn bringing a cast of characters to life in a manner that is both tragic and joyful, full of justice and injustice, yet all the while a sense of fate looms large, an inexorability that social change is slow to come and cannot be rushed. Carvalho's novel fully justifies its recognition.

First things first - _A God Strolling..._ was an engaging read. Previous reviewers have touched on the excellent development of setting and atmosphere, and I agree that de Carvalho pulls the reader into a colorful and complex representation of the Roman Empire at the precise moment it began to wane. The book is certainly worth reading for this reason alone, especially for those interested in historical fiction.

But above all, the book is a character study; the protagonist Quintius is its focus. As a character study, the book left me wanting a bit more - it's not the study of a strong and inspiring character as the other reviews here suggest. The N.Y. Times review above focuses on his "moral code, as well as a provocative meditation on the difficulty of leading a virtuous life in as era of tumultuous change." Quintius is a reluctant magistrate, forced into the seat of power by lazy demagogues who would rather not be burdened with responsibility. And though Quintius holds steadfastly to his perception of duty as a Roman citizen, his perception is out of step with the society around him. Rather than drawing strength from his convictions and being a strong ruler, he seems buffeted by the sea of events around him: political rivals, threats from without, the emerging Christian faith within his city, and a strange obsession with a female, Iunia.

In short this is not an inspiring story of the triumph of a moral soul, but a study of the torture of seeing things differently than the masses. If this was the author's desired effect, then the book is an unqualified success. However, I thought some of the tools used in reaching this end were under-developed. Quintius' obsession with Iunia drives the novel near the end, and I never understood the motivation for this relationship (admittedly, I guess neither did Quintius...). And ultimately, I hoped to see a development or substantial change in the protagonist in the end, and found little.

Readers who enjoy Jose Saramago will likely find de Carvalho interesting. I enjoyed reading the book. I don't know if I _liked_ the book. If you crave historical ambiance, or generating feelings of uneasiness in yourself, you will enjoy reading the book. I'm not sure if you'll _like_ it either, though...

Want to read what it is like to be enlightened? I first read in 1971 and has remained ever since an inspiration for the purpose of life. Transcends Catholicism by describing the universality of higher consciousness.

This is one of the best works in the Catholic Christian literature. However, this particular translation is not a good translation from the Spanish; it is not entirely accurate. E. Allison Peers does a much better job translating and her translation is better spiritually.

I recommend this book, preferably a different edition, to those who are looking for a Christian relationship with God. The mystic nun of 16th century Spain, you can think anything you want of her, but she ain't ordinary. The spiritual experiences that "befell her is the central theme of the book" (intro. p.13). Her relationship with our Lord is honest and humble, sincere as any testimony that you'll ever hear. The way to approach this story is with respect, and also with humbleness, for that is the way she also approaches us.

I noticed a little bias in the introduction by J.M.Cohen. Or maybe he doesn't have the facts right: "In the very cities where they (Teresa and John of the Cross) walked Mohammedan mystics, less narrow and exclusive in their beliefs than they, had flourished in the days of the Moorish emirates." This is simply untrue. Very much more narrow and exclusive, Mister. Read you Spanish history well (see my listmania). No need of political correctness when we all know how Muslims always have treated Christians (go and live even today in a "tolerant" Muslim country).

Teresa's life is a great testimony for all denominations of Christians. Yes, she was a Catholic, and you will find the Catholic theology sprinkled everywhere; but most importantly she was real, I mean a real Christian. And if you read the text without prejudice -not like the Pharisees would ask Jesus- you will find prove of this. Her relationship is with the Lord, not with images. For example, she commends herself to Saint Joseph, but she always has it clear that it is the Lord Jesus who gives the favors: "The Lord seems to have given other saints grace to help in some troubles but I know by experience that this glorious saint helps in all", and "I clearly see (...) that if we are to please God and He is to grant us great favors, it is His will that this should be through His most sacred Humanity, in whom His Majesty said He is well pleased. (...) I have clearly seen that it is by this door we must enter, if we wish His sovereign Majesty to reveal great secrets to us. He will show us the way. If we consider his life, that is our best example."

There's an episode that I liked particularly. The Lord gives her the grace of talking with angels; she hears: "I want you to converse now not with men but with angels". And so it happens, "For I have never since been able to form a firm friendship, or to take any comfort in, or to feel particular love for, any people except those whom I believe to love God and to be trying to serve Him. This has been something beyond my control; and it has made no difference if the people have been relatives or friends." Anybody feels identified?

Check this one out, as example of good and sensible advice: "the proof that something comes from God lies in its conformity to Holy Scripture. If it diverges in the least from that, I think I should feel incomparably more certain that it came from the devil".

Another fun note, this one about her tribulations with her confessors: "He (the devil) cannot do me any harm, but they, especially if they are confessors, can be most disturbing. For several years they were such a trial to me that now I am astonished that I was able to bear it." Beware of human confessors!

A more curious note: "there is nothing the devils fly from more promptly, never to return, than from holy water. They fly from the cross also, but return again. So there must be a great virtue in holy water." Of course there's no virtue in water, but modern readers who are aware of it should still be able to sympathize with her.

The book is full of commentary of this kind. They all portrait the love of this meek woman for the Lord Jesus. This book is so needed today in a world that has gone to the other extreme, that of devotion of evil, that reading it can feel almost like an ET encounter.

Leave your pride outside before entering.

I've always marvelled at Bernini's statue, Ecstasy of St. Teresa, which seems to precede art deco by centuries. Since this Penguin edition shows it on the cover, I was naturally drawn to this book. Having cracked the cover, however, I couldn't put it down; it's gripping, amusing and eminently readable--everything we know so-called devotional literature is not.

Post-moderns will find in this sixteenth century nun a like-minded comrade, as unlikely as that may seem. We, or at least, I could relate far more to her failures than successes, and there's an almost slapstick, which is to say light-heartedness running through these memoirs that has more in common with I Love Lucy than sentimental religious literature. The best known incident is when a horse threw her and she landed in a mud puddle. She looked up to heaven and said, "if that's the way you treat your friends, no wonder you have so few of them."

If that doesn't make you want to read this book, what would? Completely against the tenet of modernism that everything is always progressing and "every day in every way we're getting better and better," here's a kindred soul from the sixteenth century who many readers will instantly relate to. Another way to view this book is as an exercise in journaling, which many people find more difficult than it sounds. Teresa was ordered to write her memoirs, not unlike students in an English class who find it so difficult to think of anything to write about.

This book may not be to everyone's taste. But I would recommend it to readers who, like myself, are absolutely allergic to sentimental and devotional literature. I found it delightfully different and would group it with the few "classics" in this genre I have enjoyed, including Pascal's Pensees, Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress and St. Augustine's Confessions.

The previous review for this book was obviously misplaced here, as this is the version by E. Allison Peers! I also noticed this same review listed under another translation of this work, where it was clearly intended to be. So unless I am missing something here, I suggest people ignore this mistaken review.

This book did the job for which I bought it i.e to cover the complete life of Philip & thus provide more knowledge & understanding of the Spanish Ride to its Abyss in the 16th Century. I have passed it to my Russian daughter-in-law accordingly. She,a keen Roman Catholic,while generally highly knowledgeable said she knew little about Spain & felt the impact of the Inquisition has been exaggerated. I disagree & this book substantiated my point. Philip accepted the Inquisition to govern Spain. Other counties both Protestant & Catholic perpetrated ghastly deeds against dissidents but with them it was Politics utilising Religion,not Religion managing the State.

That's right! I am, at this moment, making a powerful epic screenplay about the greatest king in the 1500s. It is called PHILIP, KING OF SPAIN - and it will star me as the great king Philip II. I will show him as the man, the king, the warrior, the father, the husband, and the ruler of his court!

So forget about those other little biopics like THE LAST EMPEROR, AMADEUS, ELIZABETH, and others! PHILIP, KING OF SPAIN will be an Academy Award-winning, Best Picture epic film made by yours truly - Kristoffer Infante! It will be a companion to my other Oscar-winning Best Picture, PRISONER OF WAR - written, directed, produced, and starring me - and TRIANGLE, another Oscar-winning Best Picture!

I will be faithful to the man and the myth, and destroy all that negativity that has dogged Philip in the last 400 years! Philip will be loved and appreciated again!

Count on it!

About time the Prudent King received treatment worth his contemporaneous status! Not much has been written on Phillip II that would pass the most superficial test of historical accuracy. This book, a survey of his reign, is balanced and well written. Kamen describes neither a demon (the characterization of Phillip which most English readers would find familiar) nor a saint (the preferred version among Spanish monarchists), but the first modern bureaucrat. Kamen scholarship has some precursors in the English historical world, ie Elton, Parker, but his contribution to popular history in the form of biography is unique at this point. The 30 Years War, the casus belli for Modern Europe, is inconceivable without Phillip II's presence. This book paints with an informed brush the Spanish dynastic cause. I recommend this book highly.

I suppose it is true of many a biography, and in individual experience, that we rarely recognize greatness in people we know well. Kamen does an excellent job painting an unconventional portrait of Philip. In the process, however, the "Black Legend" is reduced to a somewhat flighty renaissance princeling.

For whatever reason, I never received the anglophile's disdain for Philip. Perhaps it was Warren Carroll's portrait of Philip in his Christendom series, or Hillaire Belloc's view, both of which tended to paint Philip as the tragically ineffectual hero of Catholic Europe, standing in the breach against both the heretic and the Turk, and only partially saving Europe while dooming his own Empire.

As ought to have been expected, Kamen's well researched and presented portrait shows a complex individual, capable of progressivism (ala opposition to blood purity laws and early support for Tridentine reforms), while simultaneously enjoying the public manifestations of the Inquisition. The casual nature of Philip's early marriages contrasts starkly against his reaction to the death of his fourth wife. "Philip the Bureaucrat" would seem to be an apt title for a King paralyzed by paperwork, and unable to govern his vast realms due to slow communication, shifty underlings, and a byzantine political system that only Umberto Eco could love.

It is hard, in the end, to get a bead on Philip. It is indeed tragic for Spain that the many great chances for the establishment of their empire were lost in the various cataclysms of Dutch piracy, stormy seas, and overzealous generals - thus contributing to the later usurpation of Portugese westernization of the orient, English dominance of North America, and setting the stage for Cardianl Richelieu and far bloodier events in Europe.

Of course, Kamen avoids projecting out consequences, only hinting at the damage done to Spain by the misfortunes of Philip's reign. For a biography of "the world's most powerful man," the focus is so narrow as to be somewhat myopic. But it is at this price that we obtain the detail which saves Philip from both the Black Legend and latter-day sanctification - neither of which he deserves.

Kamen offers a very complete and detailed description of the great grandson of the Catholic Kings and the difficulty of managing the most extensive empire the world has ever known. The facts are taken from great sources and presented in an honest fashion. Kamen strays from legends and myths and even challenges some of them as he did in "The Spanish Inquisition". The dedication of Felipe II to his realm is explained realisticly. Finally, the chronology is followed with discipline and is commendable. I would recommend this book to anyone desiring information on this Hapsburg leader.

At the heart, this is NOT a novel about aliens landing in Portugal. This is about the Inquisition and how it cruelly affected people's lives. The aliens are an afterthought, not well developed or thought out at all.

Don't get me wrong, though. This woman can write! If I had picked up the book expecting only a story about the Inquisition I would have loved it, even though it was sad. The human characters are all well developed and the story rips your heart out, but... I was looking to see what aliens landing into the middle of the 16th century would make of us. Nothing, as it turns out.

If you decide to read this, I suggest you forget about the science fiction angle and take it for what it is. A fine historical novel.

If all her other novels are like this then I've decided I'm not going to read them. I was looking for a sci-fi novel and didn't get it. Left me feeling empty.

The author writes beautifully, and the story itself is interesting and full of compelling characters. It is, however, at it's heart a novel about aliens landing in Portugal.

This is the first book by Patricia Anthony I have ever read and it will not be the last. What is so atypical about this story is/are the many genres covered - history, mystery, science fiction, religion - and each and every one superb. The novel is a virtual time machine (reminiscent of Carr's "The Alienist" in that respect). To step into such a "foreign" time and place - Portugal, the Inquisition, the pre-Industrail Middle Ages, the budding of science and the Renaissance and the resistance by the Catholic Church - do "Become" a reporter of those times is a task that few will undertake and still fewer accomplish well.

The aliens remain at a distant, known through vague and illusive visitations and in the end, are in the end as mysterious as they were when first mentioned. The Jesuit hero, the man who assists the inquisition despite his own sins and inner thoughts, is as real as any character I have ever encountered. His lover is an altogether different person but incredibly attractive in her own right.

The portrayal of a society mired in mysticism, ruled by an Iron Fist of religious zealotry, is intimate and just - even fair. The lives of people below the surface, beyond the public utterances of loyalty and fealty and devotion, is what attracts one to the many varied characters. The young Father Bernardo becomes a foil for all that is right and wrong with the Church of that age.

The parallel story of the retarded King Alfonso and his brother Pedro meshes beautifully with the tale of aliens and unrelenting persecution by the Inquisition. In a brilliant move, the living machine of the aliens (the "acorn") imbues this retarded prince with advanced scientific ideas that he feels compelled to share. The ending finds one breathless with anticipation and dread, hopeful yet at the same time resigned to the inexorable chain of events that must happen. There is no intervention - either military, divine or alien. Things play out to a horrible but strangely satisfying conclusion. This is an incredibly vivid work, soaring and shocking and in the end, meditative.

A "star" falls from the sky near Quintas in Portugal during the days of the Inquisition and the town is shaken by rumours of miracles and an outbreak of blatant heresy---all of which we folk of the 20th century might instead leap to interpret in terms of a clash between modern science and our own popular UFO mythology, although of course our theologians and politicians would also find plenty to say. Likewise, Quintas becomes the focus of an urgent Holy Office investigation conducted by an incompatible, bickering team of harassed priests and secular lawyers whose views range from the skeptical to the credulous, the politically expedient to the mystical. The mentally retarded, adolescent King Afonso sets up camp near the fallen "acorn", convinced by telepathic dialogue with the damaged space-vessel's failing computer that God is granting him personal revelations about the nature of the universe. While the confused young king shocks the assembled clergy with his Galilean heresies, including a quaint though accurate (according to current astronomical tenets) description of the formation of the solar system, his brother Pedro mounts an efficient political coup and wrests the regency from Count Castelo Melhor. And two silent, passive, enigmatic aliens docilely allow themselves to be imprisoned, gazing upon their captors with huge, unfathomable black eyes. Imps, demons, angels, pygmies from Africa or Borneo, strange New World animals "catapulted" into Portugal by the Spanish foe in a fiendish plot to sow civil disorder?

Anthony's ruthless and provocative account of the imaginary happening provides a lucid demonstration of how the unprecedented and the mysterious can only be analyzed and (mis)understood in terms of the prevailing beliefs of the time---its religious and philosophical convictions, the state of its scientific knowledge, its political prejudices, its popular myths and superstitions.

But this is also a novel of great humanity, with a cast of well-drawn, sympathetic, and lifelike characters whose interplay is both tragic and exalting: the soul-searching Jesuit Manoel Pessoa, a rationalist without faith, who hopes at first to defuse the dangerous situation with a cursory proforma inquiry sparing the Quintans dire consequences; his lover Berenice, a herbalist of Jewish origin, who cures the town's sick and is shunned as a witch; the kindly old Franciscan Soares, who believes in the angels; the selfish and gluttonous Inquisitor-General Gomes, who overrides the tribunal with his authority to light the pyres; the tense mystic Bernardo; the enchantingly quixotic King Afonso. "God's Fires" is a story of passion and doomed lives written with insight, biting humour, and bitterness---a far larger book than its disguising science-fiction component would immediately suggest.

After reading "Flanders" by Patricia Anthony, and loving it, I decided to read another of her books, and "God's Fires" was the one I found at the bookstore. The decision to purchase it is one that I will not regret, for it is a wonderful, and well-written, work of fiction. The year is 1662, and a feeble-minded but good-natured teenager reigns in Portugal, but the Inquisition actually rules. In a remote village strange sights appear, and an "acorn" crashes to earth, leaving two live, and one dead, "creatures". But what exactly are these beings, and what about the other signs and wonders appearing in the area? The Holy Office of the Church will get to the bottom of the mystery, or people will burn. This book shows the fine line between faith and fanaticism, courage and foolishness, and love and lust. The language is all that I had expected from the author of "Flanders", and the pure emotion of this book practically leaps off of the page at you. The Church, and certain clergymen, do not fare well in their portrayal, but then, the Church has much to apologise for concerning the Inquisition. As I said when I reviewed "Flanders", read this book!

A solid and readable account of the rise and fall of Imperial Spain by an experienced scholar. The book dedicate a great deal to the reign of Isabella and Ferdinand, which is regarded as the golden age of Castile with the discovery of America and the finishing of the "reconquista" but also marking the expulsion of jews and the beginning of the inquisition. Mr. Elliott explain the whole context of those years, politically, socially and economically, the real situation of the people of the time and the differences between the crowns of Castile, Aragon and Portugal. As the book advances and with the following Kings, the author makes clear the difficult situation of Spain, with an empire geographically separated, agravated by several revolts either at home or abroad, with the core of spain overburden with taxes, with a stagnated economy and more important, a mediocre ruling class. Those are just part of the reasons that finally translated in the dissolution of the empire at the beginning of the 1700. In summary, this book totally fulfilled my curiosity to understand this period of Spain, and like the last words of the book: "Castile has made Spain and Castile has destroyed it" (Ortega y Gasset).
Note: I had the opportunity of being at the Escorial, I just lamented not to had read this book before.

Spain experienced a metamorphosis in the 16th century. It had been a divided country battling with an age-old enemy. Its separate parts worked more against each other than with each other; Castile concentrated on the fight to reconquer the land from the Muslims, while Aragon and Catalonia fixed their sights on a Mediterranean trading empire and control of southern Italy. Under Ferdinand and Isabella, well-known as the patrons of Columbus, the Moors were conquered, the Jews expelled, and all three main parts of Spain joined under one crown. Spain soon acquired a vast empire in the Americas and Asia. Through marriage, its fortunes were hitched to the Habsburg crown, thus despatching Spanish arms and treasure to the endless European wars in Italy, Germany, and the Low Countries. Spain rose to a certain proud zenith, both in war and in administration of its vast lands. The arts began to flourish. Portugal came under the Spanish crown for sixty years. The glory days did not last long as history goes. By 1640, Spain had crashed. It was bankrupt, taxed-to-the-limit, and losing everywhere. Its European empire fell away, even Portugal threw off Castilian rule. Government fell to mostly incapable favorites of the weak and indecisive kings. Bereft of a middle class, the only good income was to be had from the church or the court. In short, the imperial greatness, which had shot across the world like a brilliant comet, had winked out in financial collapse and administrative failure, though literature and painting continued to shine. Poor education and religious ultra-conservatism had denied Spain the leaders that might have saved it.

Elliott's history of Imperial Spain paints a clear picture of the reasons for this abrupt rise and decline. He concentrates not on battles, foreign adventures or any sort of "glory", but on administration, finance, the strong differences between Castile and Aragon/Catalonia, the Inquisition, trade, and domestic policy. I admit that such a mix may not be everybody's cup of tea, but if you are serious about learning the reasons for Spain's brief term at the top, you will certainly need to read this work, an amazingly complete study that stands with some of the best history books ever written. Though the title contains the years 1469-1716, the vast bulk of the book concerns only the sixteenth century.

It seemed to me, as I read IMPERIAL SPAIN, that the book should be required reading in Washington, but of course our "leaders" are not interested in history. They reflect in their actions an uncanny resemblance to that Spain of its glory days, thinking that glory can never end, that the mighty shall not fall. Since we seem unable to avoid foreign wars, our education system is inadequate, we are facing a rising tide of religious obscurantism, and worst of all, we operate at a huge deficit, there are some disturbing parallels. Could we learn from the history of Imperial Spain ? No doubt. Will we ? No way.

Over the years I have managed to read a fairly large number of historical works dedicated to surveying particular periods of history, but I have rarely found one that managed to combine learning with readability as well as this one. Although a historian, Elliott must of necessity tell a story, and that is how Spain went from being a relatively unimportant afterthought on the tip of Europe to being for a period of time perhaps the dominant power on the globe, only to fall into a state of decline and veritable collapse. It is an amazing, improbable story, yet Elliott manages it without ever losing the reader in historical minutiae.

Elliott tells his story by focusing on the reigns of the great monarchs of the 15th and 16th centuries of Spain, and the considerably less great monarchs and their "favorites" (noblemen who actually ran Spain--as Elliott puts it at one point, the kings reigned, but the favorites ruled) of the 17th century. The highpoint of the story comes rather early, with the remarkable reign of Isabella of Castile and Ferdinand of Aragon, surely the greatest monarchial partnership Europe has known. Two gifted, talented, and powerful monarchs, they worked together brilliantly to create one of the great empires of Europe, managing such feats as driving the Moors out of Spain and creating a dynasty in the New World (as well as funding Columbus' discovery of it). Unfortunately, they, the Most Catholic Kings, also were responsible for the Inquisition. Elliott takes a balanced approach to the Inquisition (not my own inclination, since it seems to me to be an unmitigable horror), not minimizing its effects, but trying to understand it in context.

From Isabella and Ferdinand, Elliott takes the reader through the reasons that Ferdinand was reluctantly forced to arrange for the monarchies of Castile and Aragon to the Habsburgs (it is fairly complex, but essentially there was no acceptable heir), and the eventual accedence of the Holy Roman Emperor Charles V to the thrones of Spain. Although not quite as glorious a time as under Isabella and Ferdinand, Charles V's reign was also a highpoint in Spanish history. Although to a large degree an absentee monarch, his reign is characterized by his attempts to expand his empire--which embraced a substantial portion of Europe--and his wars against against heresy, i.e., protestantism, whether in its Lutheran, Calvinist, or English forms. Indeed, if religious zeal--even if profoundly misguided--were a criterion of religiousity, then Charles V might go down as the most religious monarch in European history. That protestantism survived is surely not to be blamed on Charles V (I'm a Baptist, by the way, so I'm hardly lamenting his failure). In the end, however, Charles V's wars put such a great strain on his various subjects as to lead to general financial chaos, and his expenditures led to multiple bankruptcies, not only in his own but in his son's reign.

Phillip II is in many ways the polar opposite of his father. Although the monarch of the Dutch territories and Spain, he was not like his father the Holy Roman Emperor. He was also not a warrior king, although many wars were fought under his reign. While Charles V waged war closer to the field, Phillip II waged war at his desk and papers with a pen. The last of the great Spanish kings of the imperial period, Phillip II struggled desperately to carry on his father's goals amidst dwindling funds and financial resources.

The final sections of the book chronicle the long, slow, depressing period of decline, the period depicted so vividly in DON QUIXOTE. Ironically, although the 17th century was a period of waning Spanish successes, it was nonetheless a far richer period artistically, not just through the work of such great writers as Cervantes and Lope de Vega, but a host of great painters like Velazquez and Zurburan.

Elliott is a truly fine historian, but he is also an engaging one. I remained interested in the fate of Spain from the beginning to the agonizing end. I would strongly recommend this volume to anyone who wants a stronger background into the formation of modern Europe. It also makes an absolutely perfect introduction to the historical setting of Cervantes's DON QUIXOTE (my immediate purpose in reading it).

Synopsis of Early Modern Spain starting with Ferdinand and Isabella through Phillip II. Not the most in-depth or inclusive book on the subject, but has enough to get a person started. This book is blander than other history books I have read, but if you can make it through, it will give you a good grasp on Spain at its highest point.

This book is accessible to a general reader although it assumes some basic familiarity with European history. Without being overly long, it does a great job of cutting to the heart of matters: what were the factors that made Spain a world power in the 16th century and why did this power ultimately fall apart? Elliott concisely helps the reader to understand Spanish politics, the Inquisition, tax policy, foreign affairs, as well as social and religious tensions.

This book made traveling very easy and inexpensive. The restaurants they mentioned were the best ones that we tried and really helped us find vegetarian cuisine in such a pork-obsessed country. The maps and information were accurate. The writing style was witty and to the point. I recommend this book to any student or budget traveler who is thinking about going to Spain. They (the book and the country) are an adventurer's delight!

It was my first time alone in a foreign land. My Spanish was rough, and my brain was working about half as fast as my tongue. The street names were barely visible on the sides of buildings. When I thought all was lost, I reached in my backpack and pulled out my Let's Go. I'll tell you, from that point on, I always knew where I was going, where to sleep and eat, and finally, what to expect at all times. Let's Go Spain and Portugal helped me get around both countries with ease and delight. With handy maps of cities of all sizes and helpful commentaries on popular tourist sites, I had a most splendid vacation on the Iberian Peninsula. I highly recommend it. It's accurate and a breeze to follow.

The 1993 and 1999 editions have gotten me though Spain with maximum fun and minimal money. The 2001 edition is helping me plan my third trip. Sure, there are other good guides out there, but Let's Go is written by real travelers, passing on their knowledge and experience to the reader. Each section also comes with a brief, yet detailed history and list of suggested stops along your way. Even if you are not going anywhere, Let's Go is a great read. After you are done, you will want to travel.

I used Let's Go Europe a couple years ago and am going back to Spain next year. I just bought this guide and it's great! I especially like how they rate the accommodations - very helpful. Let's Go guides are definitely the most helpful for students and low budget travel.

I am currently studying in Spain for the semester. Everywhere I go I bring my Let's Go guide; it is the most dog-earred book I own. My friend and fellow traveler owns both Let's Go Spain and the Lonely Planet Guide to Spain - the Lonely Planet guide sits on her shelf, unused and abandoned.

The format of Let's Go is very logical - the book is organized into countries (Spain, Portugal, and Morrocco), and within countries there are regions, within regions provinces, within provinces cities, within cities the towns surrounding them. Many of the larger cities listed have basic maps as well. Each place listed has a brief introduction/history, and information on transportation, orientation and practical information, accomodations, food, sights, entertainment, and daytrips. The authors attempt to list schedules and such for attractions and buses and trains, but as one will find out, the Spanish are constantly changing their schedules due to some religious holiday or the siesta. It is best to check the schedule of each place yourself, which is suggested in the book. You must take into account that it was written in 2000 for 2001 - that also accounts for discrepencies in times and prices. Despite this unavoidable issue, I have found that Let's Go provides an honest, down to earth, mostly accurate, and cheap guide to getting around Spain. I would really be literally lost without it! The accommations info is particularily useful; there are only about a million pensiones in each pueblo in Spain. Let's Go helps narrow the list down, and guarantee that you get your money's worth. Even if you don't need to travel on a small budget, I would recommend this guide because of the wealth of information.

One of my favorite features of the book is the part that lists daytrips. Sometimes you need to, and want to, get out of the city and explore things that are a little off the beaten track. The daytrip section is perfect for this! Sad to say, I didn't have a Let's Go book for my recent travels across eastern Europe (i had an old copy of a Lonely Planet Central Europe on a shoestring). My friends and I missed Let's Go's commentary and easy to use format. If the guide to Spain is anything to go by, I know I will buy Let's Go guides for my travels across the world!

Watch Video Here: http://www.amazon.com/review/R3A80YKC8W7UEE New Chronology is a theory validated by astronomical research and statistical analysis of ancient manuscripts that asserts: that Antiquity and Dark Ages are phantoms invented in the 16th 18th centuries. Human civilization is barely 1000 years old!

New Chronology complies with the most rigid scientific standards:

- It gives a coherent explanation of what we already know;
- It is consistent: independent lines of inquiry all lead to the same conclusion;
- The predictions it makes are confirmed empirically;

New Chronology goes by the following basic axioms:
- Chronology is the basis of history;
- Human evolution has always been linear, gradual and irreversible;
- The "cyclic" nature of human civilization is a myth, likewise all the gaps, duplicates, "dark ages" and "renaissances" that we know from consensual history are fantasy and hoax;
- The accumulation of geographical knowledge as reflected in cartography is a gradual and irreversible process;
- The closer in time is a given manuscript to the events described the less distortions it contains;
- There is no "useless" information in authentic ancient sources.

Fomenko asserts: There was no such thing as the Tartar and Mongol invasion followed by over two centuries of yoke and slavery, providing a formidable body of documental evidence to prove his assertion. The so-called "Tartars and Mongols" were the actual ancestors of the modern Russians, living in a trilingual state with Arabic and Turkic spoken as freely as Russian. The ancient Russian state was governed by a double structure of civil and military authorities. The hordes were actually professional armies with a tradition of lifelong conscription (the recruitment being the so-called "blood tax"). Their "invasions" were punitive operations against the regions that attempted tax evasion. Fomenko proves that official Russian history is a blatant forgery concocted by a host of German scholars brought to Russia by the usurper dynasty of the Romanovs. Their ascension to the throne was the result of conspiracy, so they charged these imported historians with the mission of making Romanov's reign look legitimate.

Fomenko proves Ivan the Terrible to be a collation of four rulers, no less. They represented the two rival dynasties - the legitimate Godunov rulers and the ambitious Romanov upstarts.

As Fomenko blows consensual Russian history to smithereens, he successfully removes a crucial cornerstone from underneath the otherwise impeccable edifice of World History. Fomenko adds insult to injury, wiping out one by one: the Ancient Rome: the foundation of Rome in Italy is dated to the 14th century A. D., the Ancient Greece and its numerous poleis, which he identifies as the mediaeval crusader settlements on the territory of Greece.

The Ancient Egypt: the pyramids of Giza become dated to the 11th to 14th century A. D. and identified as the royal cemetery of the Global "Mongolian" Empire, no less. The civilization of the Ancient Egypt is irrefutably dated to the 11th to 15th century A. D. with the aid of the ancient Egyptian horoscopes cut in stone, like enormous Dendera horoscope that hangs in main entrance to the Louvre museum in Paris.

He was the first one to decipher and date unambiguously all such horoscopes, coming up with mediaeval dates in every case.

English historians rage at the suggestion that the history of Ancient England was de facto a Byzantine import transplanted to the English soil by the fugitive Byzantine nobility. To reward the English historians who consider themselves the true scribes of World History, the cover of the book "History: Fiction or Science?" portrays Tintoretto's Jesus Christ crucified on the Big Ben.

Fomenko wipes out the Ancient History of China outright. No such ancient history. Period. The compilation of the so-called Ancient Chinese History is reliably datable to the 17th 18th century only. It is perfectly recognizable as the Ancient European history, reworked and transcribed in hieroglyphs as yet another historical transplantation, this time performed on the Chinese soil by the loving Jesuit hands. The Chinese are the next in line to go berserk. Chinese history is inevitably bound to get both more ancient and more eventful, proportionally to the growing involvement of China in the world affairs. Chinese historians will keep on finding valid proof of prehistoric Chinese spaceflights until the Politburo orders them otherwise.

Islam with all its key figures appears as late as 15th-16th century A. D. as a branch of proto-Christianity. This is amply illustrated by imagery of Prophet Mahomet, archangel Gabriel, Heaven and Hell of this period. In today's Islam all imagery of the things living is taboo.

Arabic historians may find consolation in the crucial historical role of the Ottoman Empire in the 16th 17th century. The trouble is that this empire was initially a proto Christian state, with Hagia Sophia identifiable as Temple of Solomon, according to Fomenko! We can only guess if the acquisition of Alexander the Great (a Macedonian and a Christian!) as the founder of the Muslim World Empire will make Fomenko's theories more acceptable to the Arabic mainstream. He certainly does not spare any holy cows at all, claiming The Stone of Qa'Aba in Mecca to contain the lost Arch of the Covenant.


The history of religions according to Fomenko looks as follows: the pre-Christian period (before the 11th century and Jesus Christ ), Bacchic Christianity (11th to 12th century, before and after Jesus Christ), Jesus Christ Christianity (12th to 14th century) and its subsequent mutations (15th to 17th) into Orthodox Christianity, the Catholicism, Protestantism, Islam, Buddhism, and so on..

Saint Augustine was quite prescient when he said: "be wary of mathematicians,.. particularly when they speak the truth."

Henry Ford once said: "History is more or less bunk!"

Prominent mathematician Anatoly Fomenko not only proved it for a fact, but as true scientist tried to upgrade it into a rocket science.

This book will change your perception of History forever!
What if Ancient Rome, Greece and Egypt were invented during Renaissance?
What if The Old Testament was a rendition of events of the Middle Ages?
What if Jesus Christ was born in 1053 and crucified in 1086 AD?
Sounds Unbelievable?
Not after you've read "History: Fiction or Science?" by Anatoly Fomenko, the genius mathematician.
Armed with astronomy and computers Anatoly Fomenko turns History into a rocket science.

I don't care what other people say of this book. Those affirmig it's fake, they hadn't ever read it. Or have some special reasons to do so. "Living is easy with eyes closed, misunderstanding all you see..." This book won't make you feel comfortable. It'll make you feel free. It'll make you feel you're "not the only one" to feel you'd been lied to for centuries.

We can so far divide the New Chronology into the following three parts:

a) The verifiable theory that proves consensual chronology wrong with the aid of astronomy, statistics and mathematics;

b) The new chronology hypothesis based on a new understanding of known historical facts and the most likely logical explanation of the most obvious inconsistencies inherent in the official version of history;

c) The history conjectures, that is experimental historical reconstructions based on assumptions that the authors believe to make sense in the light of their research and linguistic parallels - void of ironclad factual support to date.

Fomenko's theory complies with the most rigid scientific standards as a whole:

It gives a coherent explanation of what we already know.

- It is consistent: independent lines of inquiry all lead to the same conclusion.

- The predictions it makes are confirmed empirically.

Fomenko goes by the following axioms:

- Chronology is the basis of history;

- Human evolution has always been linear, gradual and irreversible;

- The "cyclic" nature of human civilization is a myth, likewise all the gaps, duplicates, "dark ages" and "renaissances" that we know from consensual history;

- The accumulation of geographical knowledge as reflected in cartography is a gradual and irreversible process;

- The chronological distance between a given manuscript and the events described therein is proportional to the amount of distortions it contains;

- There is no "useless" information in authentic ancient sources.

Why the mainstream historians do not shower mathematician Academician Dr.Prof Fomenko with thanks and laurels?

The Russians:

Because Fomenko asserts that there was no such thing as the Tartar and Mongol invasion followed by three centuries of slavery, providing a formidable body of documental evidence to prove his assertion. The so-called "Tartars and Mongols" were the actual ancestors of the modern Russians, living in a bilingual state with Arabic spoken as freely as Russian. The ancient Russian state was governed by a double structure of civil and military authorities. The hordes were actually professional armies with a tradition of lifelong conscription (the recruitment being the so-called "blood tax"). Their "invasions" were punitive operations against the regions that attempted tax evasion. Fomenko proves that Russian history as we know it today is a blatant forgery concocted by a host of German scientists brought to Russia by the usurper dynasty of the Romanovs, whose ascension to the throne was the result of coup d'état, charged with the mission of making their reign look legitimate. Fomenko proves Ivan the Terrible to be a collation of four rulers, no less. They represented the two rival dynasties - the legitimate rulers and the ambitious upstarts. The winner took it all! Over some 30 years of controversy, Russian historians have made a most remarkable transition - they were initially accusing the young mathematician Fomenko of anticommunist dissident activity and attempts to deface the historical legacy of Soviet Russia; nowadays the middle-aged mathematician is accused of adhering to "pro-communist Russian nationalism" and defacing the proud historical legacy of Great Russia.

The Westerners:

Because Fomenko blows consensual Russian history to smithereens, successfully removing a crucial cornerstone from underneath the otherwise impeccable edifice of World History. Fomenko adds insult to injury, wiping out one by one the Ancient Rome (the foundation of Rome in Italy is dated to the XIV century A. D.), the Ancient Greece and its numerous poleis, which he identifies as the mediaeval crusader settlements on the territory of Greece, and the Ancient Egypt (the pyramids of Giza become dated to the XI-XV century A. D. and identified as the royal cemetery of the Global "Mongolian" Empire, no less). The civilization of the Ancient Egypt is irrefutably dated to the XII-XV century A. D. with the aid of the ancient Egyptian horoscopes cut in stone. He was the first one to decipher and date all such horoscopes, coming up with mediaeval dates in every case. English historians rage at the suggestion that the history of Ancient England was de facto a Byzantine import transplanted to the English soil by the fugitive Byzantine nobility. To reward the English historians who consider themselves the true scribes of World History, the cover of the present book portrays Tintoretto's Jesus Christ crucified on the Big Ben.

The Chinese:

Because Fomenko wipes out the Ancient History of China outright. No such thing. Full point. The compilation of the so-called Ancient Chinese History is reliably datable to the XVII-XVIII century only. It is perfectly recognizable as the Ancient European history, reworked and transcribed in hieroglyphs as yet another historical transplantation, this time performed on the Chinese soil by the loving Jesuit hands. The Chinese are the next in line to go berserk. Chinese history is inevitably bound to get both more ancient and more eventful, proportionally to the growing involvement of China in the world affairs. Chinese historians will keep on finding valid proof of prehistoric Chinese spaceflights until the Politburo orders them to shut up.

The Arabs:

Too bad. Islam with all its key figures is datable to XV-XVI century A. D. Arabic historians may find consolation in the crucial historical role of the Ottoman Empire in the XVI-XVII century. The trouble is that this empire was initially a Christian state, with Hagia Sophia identifiable as Temple of Solomon, according to Fomenko! We can only guess if the acquisition of Alexander the Great (a Macedonian and a Christian) as the founder of the Muslim World Empire will make Fomenko's theories more acceptable to the Arabic mainstream. He certainly does not spare any holy cows at all, claiming The Stone of Qa'Aba in Mecca to contain the lost Arch of the Covenant.

The Divinity:

Despite of reiterated statement that his theory is all about chronology and not Religion, Fomenko stirs up a whole condominium of wasp nests. His collection of anathemas, fatwa, and other condemnations from all parties concerned is already considerable. Little wonder, considering that the history of religions à la Fomenko looks as follows: the pre-Christian period (before the XI century and JC), Bacchic Christianity (XI-XII century, before and after JC), JC Christianity (XII-XVI century) and its subsequent mutations into Orthodox Christianity, the Catholicism, Islam, Buddhism, and so on.

According to Fomenko we know strictly NOTHING about the events that predate the X century A. D.

St Augustin was prescient when he spoke unto us: "be wary of mathematicians, particularly when they speak the truth."

Like Erich von Däniken, the Creationists, and the legion of sensational conspiracy theorists, this book makes huge claims based on speculation founded on the most superficial and selective reading of the historical record.

Most insulting to one's intelligence is the claim that C14 dating could be so far off the mark. This method has been tried and tested for 50 years. It is based on the known decay rate of an unstable isotope, that occurs in fairly predictable amounts. Calibration merely raises the accuracy from around 10% to 1% error margin. Even without calibration, the measurement of various isotopes has given civilisation a history of thousands, not hundreds of years.

Tree rings are a well understood phenomenon in biology. These can be used to obtain accurately dated samples more than 4000 years old. C14 dating can be calibrated with these samples to adjust for slight variations in C14 levels due to the solar cycle. This enables us to date to within a couple of decades samples dating back to early classical times.

If you want to understand the science of dating, read Nature's Clocks: How Scientists Measure the Age of Almost Everything.

However, this is only a part of the evidence, there is layering of earth above sites, known geological events like volcanic eruptions, traces of natural and human activity all correlated. How do we explain Pompei? If we want to apply Occam's razor, is it really easier to believe in a huge medieval conspiracy, that was able to construct a consistent history, complete with archaeological evidence that had not yet been found? And that all of the thousands of scientists involved in dating have been misled?

I can only conclude that this book was written as a money spinner to hook the gullible, like so many other conspiracy books.

Here is a serie of books which turns "the whole world" upside down. I learned a lot of it and I hope that a new book from A.T. Fomenko will follow very quick. A absolute must for everybody who is interested in history or even a little bit from it.

This translation of the Lusiads is easily readable and enjoyable. The translator has successfully conveyed the meaning from the Portuguese while preserving many aspects of the ottava rima form. The story itself is very interesting and easy to follow. The notes provide explanations of the numerous allusions to Classical literature, though more references exist. That's not to say one can't enjoy the epic without Classical training. In all, the epic is an invaluable glimpse into the Portuguese myth-making going on during the Age of Discovery. Vasco da Gama's voyage to India around Africa becomes a game among the gods, a religious quest, and reclamation of the right Portugal had by way of its legendary founder, Lusus, son of Bacchus, to rule the East Indies. Much early Portuguese history also finds its way into the epic.

I give this book three stars not because it is a particularly brilliant work of poetry, but because it is a truly remarkable artifact. This book is a monument in Western culture, and, as such, it is worthy of a read. However, those who open this book expecting to find the fanciful, exuberant poetry so typical of the European Renaissance will be sorely disappointed. Though in form - rhyming octaves - de Camoes imitates the giants of vernacular epic poetry - Pulci, Boiardo, and Ariosto in particular - he lacks the poetic dexterity which allowed the aforementioned authors to push the limits of epic poetry, not only in terms of content, but also with regard to style. While one must admit that de Camoes' subject matter is truly revolutionary, his style is pedantic and uninspired. Though the invocation of the muses is a well established topos of epic poetry, rarely in the verses of Virgil or Dante does one get the feeling that the poet is genuinely in need of artistic assistance, for these poets were weaned on the slopes of Parnassus. De Camoes, instead, seems to be earnestly calling out for help. Despite the fact that succor never arrived, nevertheless de Camoes' poem is a quaint little work marking the beginnings of colonialism, the Portuguese penchant for daring navigation, and the subsequent attempt to construct the Portuguese national identity around nautical explorations.

The Lusiads places the decadence of the epic genre in its end. The Lusiads bears no power, it is only the song of a feeble hero which is not even by far compared to great characters just like Odysseus. Vasco da Gama is uninteresting, he is in no profound context of living except that of praising Portugal's doings in navegation and conquest. Camoes doesn't matter how many peoples were killed and explored in name of this. The Lusiads is, so, a song of ideological doutrination with less masterpiece characteristics, that means it is not a classic, but a book imposed as part of a certain canon. It is not a good book because its aim is not to make art, but to USE art in order to praise the advancement of the portuguese project of conquering and exploring. The Lusiads placement as a classic is, so, ideologically played to a specific economical and religious aim.

First the nuts and bolts. The Lusiads (Os Lusiadas) was published in Portuguese in 1572. 'The Lusiads' would be more understandably translated 'The Portuguese'. Lusiads means inhabitants of the Roman region called Lusitania - after the legendary founder Lusus who was a companion of the Roman god Bacchus. It is an epic (long poem where a hero or heroes in a wide-ranging adventure embody representative national characteristics). It would be similar to the Odyssey, El Cid, or Divine Comedy.

The first English translation was in 1655, and multiple translations have ensued. Captain Sir Richard Francis Burton even did a Victorian age translation. This translation is by Landeg White and is my favorite translation.

The story is of the voyage of Vasco da Gama from Portugal to India. This was the beginning of a world-wide Portuguese trade empire and was a seminal world event in mixing Western and Eastern Cultures.

The author was a low-grade officer/noble who lost an eye battling the Moors, and spent most of his life in the East as a bureaucrat and soldier for the Portuguese empire. His first-hand knowledge of the countries described in the epic along with his experiences as a soldier, prisoner, ship-wreck survivor etc. gave him unmatchable insight into his subject.

In the original Portuguese, the book is written in rhyming, eight line paragraphs called 'ottava rima'. Since Portuguese is a Romance language with a few common endings for most words, it is very easy to rhyme. The same is not true of English. Rather than force this translation to rhyme and using odd word orders and odd words to fit the rhyme scheme, White has used a non-rhyming format that only has the last couplet of the eight lines rhyming. This is the perfect compromise and makes reading the
English translation fairly close to reading in the original language.

Now for the specifics. Multiple famous literary figures have praised this book for hundreds of years. Some have even said it is worth learning Portuguese just to read Camoes in the original. The reasons for this are several. First, Camoes tells a good story. This is not a sterile, boring recitation. Second, the described events are adventurous and illuminate history, cultures and human nature.

But most importantly, this book allows the personality of the author to shine through. The best parts, in my opinion, are where the author comments on the happenings, or adds his advice to the Portuguese people and rulers. The last few stanzas of the book show you the feelings of the author when he exclaims,

"No more, Muse, no more, my lyre
Is out of tune and my throat hoarse,
Not from singing but from wasting song
On a deaf and coarsened people.
Those rewards which encourage genius
My country ignores, being given over
To avarice and philistinism,
Heartlessness and degrading pessimism.

I do not know by what twist of fate
It has lost that pride, that zest for life,
Which lifts the spirits unfailingly
And welcomes duty with a smiling face."

It is Camoes that makes this a matchless epic - not the subject and not his poetry. As the Brittanica puts it, "His best poems have the unmistakable note of genuine suffering and deep sincerity of feeling. It is this note that places him far above the other poets of his era.

In short, this is a wonderful work of art that can be profitably revisited over and over. This translation is one of the best and the explanatory text and notes make the reading much easier.

Highly recommended.

Had Camoens been "Englishened" shortly after his own lifetime, no doubt some English translator could have grasped the proper tone, meter and spirit for his work to be presented in English grab. However, since he died in 1580, just when Spain absorbed Portugal into the Iberian Union, his poem in praise of the Portuguese exploits in India was not to be Englishened when the English where busy trying to undone what he had praised. Therefore he lost his chance with the English language. As it is, all English translation of Camoens have been at best exercises in creative anachronism (such as Richard Francis Burton's Victorian one) or simply inadequate (such as the Penguin trans., which is _in prose_!). Also, there is the problem that a translation of the high degree required is best achieved between cognate languages (such as the German trans. of Shakespeare, or the Portuguese trans. of the D.Quixote). Be as it is,Camoens didn't fail to attract the attention even of Marx & Engels, who quote the opening section of the Lusiads (in Portuguese) in the _German Ideology_. Therefore I advise reading _any_ English trans., but only to get a foretaste before learning Portuguese and reading the original.Finally, for those who think the poem's "hero" Vasco da Gama to be unintersting: the hero of the poem is the Portuguese people in general, therefore the name of the poem - the _Lusiads_ (from Lusitania, i.e. Portugal) and not the "Gamaeid".