The Last King of Lydia

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But then all his riches could not remove the spear from his dying elder son's chest, could not bring his mute younger son to speak, could not make him as wise as his own chief slave, could not bring his wife's love back, could not prevent his army from being torn apart and his kingdom lost. Trying to find some sort of historical truth in all that and making it feel believable is going to be one hell of a job.

I can't claim any expert knowledge on the historical accuracy and I suspect Leach occasionally allows a few modern perspectives to infiltrate the minds of his characters, but for me that is forgivable.

As a book for young children I’d judge this book better, but I wouldn’t really recommend it to an audience older than that. Leach puts these words in the mouth of a 5th Century BC ruler, yet I’m not sure I’ve read a more apposite phrase to sum up what’s wrong with modern society. The friendship developed between Croesus-Isocrates-Maia after the fall of Lydia did not convince me as well.

Croesus, at least in this telling, provides an interesting example of how suffering derives not just from privation, but from excess as well. It's intelligently written, often poetic, compelling and even though I knew the story of Croesus, it was full of surprises. It’s a debut novel that the author clearly worked very hard on, it covers a little-explored figure of history and legend, and I can positively see the pride and ambition oozing from the pages in the philosophical themes… but it fell flat for me. The second half of the book then covers how Croesus handles the humiliation of losing everything he held dear and the loss of status.

Wholly satisfying from start to finish, Tim Leach has written a terrific novel that should appeal to all readers, regardless of whether they like historical fiction. Teetered between 4 and 5 but in the end concluded that the extra star was worth it for the originality. Leach weaves a beautiful narrative and brings the excesses of ancient Lydia to life with his expressive writing style.

This book is both a look at the history of the final days of and empire, and a small story about one man. I think, if I’ve interpreted correctly, Leach suggests that life itself, the long stretch of days, might gain one or both of those but then again might not. Power is transient, fleeting when compared with the vast sea of history, yet rulers are prepared to condemn thousands to misery in the hope of gaining more and more of it.Like any good philosopher, Leach doesn’t give definitive answers to the big questions he asks, but his exploration and hints are the more interesting as a result.

He had never seen a king die, and as he cropped the prisoner's hair and trimmed his thick, black beard, he placed little nicks in his scalp and chin, apologizing for his clumsiness each time, even as he keenly watched the royal blood flow. Croesus is master of his own destiny and it is only his thoughtless behavior that will bring about his downfall. So a more detailed expansion of the same tale that doesn’t do anything different or change anything but the style seems pointless to me. This transformation, from fear to wary understanding, is echoed in Croesus's changed relationships with others once he is no longer king.I was vaguely familiar with Herodotus's account of the wealthy King Croesus asking the sage Solon who was the happiest man, expecting the answer to be himself, but I hadn't realized the potential behind that tale. Characters talk out their motivations, their longings, and their regrets, and it is these conversations that are the heart of the story, despite the epic conquests and and empire-spanning travels that serve as the backdrop. When the Athenian philosopher Solon visits his court, Croesus has an opportunity to ask him anything he likes.