It's a book of philosophy as much as history, about what we can and should do to be happy, and perhaps a little about second chances to bring happiness to others. Since Herodotus has little to say about specifics (it’s worth noting here that Babylonian chronicles may claim Croesus was flat-out killed) Leach has plenty of room to expand.

Leach successfully summons up scenes of army camps, vast cities, treasuries and pyres with relatively few words, leaving space for understanding the actions, reactions and motivations of the utterly believable characters. I also feel that the language is quite light; I found myself going from page to page quite fast, when what I really wanted was to savor each page, to delight in the rich descriptions of an ancient world. Readers who revel in the material details of period costume, weapons and mores may be disappointed in this fabulistic treatment of the ancient king whose name became synonymous with wealth. Summary: King Croesus experiences a dramatic change of fortune that allows him to evaluate the true meaning of happiness.If you absolutely hate anything remotely like spoilers, you might want to stop reading now, although I don't think these will qualify as plot revealers.

For example, I had no idea that the conversation with Solon was reputed to have happened, having been recorded by Herodutus, or that the Lydians are credited with the invention of coinage. There are many plot twists and as a reader, I soon learned not to judge any of the characters in the story too soon, as my opinion of them would change many times over the course of the book. If you absolutely hate anything remotely like spoilers, you might want to stop reading now, although I don’t think these will qualify as plot revealers. What makes this a special book is less to do with the events, the battles, the conquests and so on, but the effect on the characters.For his debut novel, Tim Leach steers clear of the familiar Greek and Roman legends and instead concentrates a lesser-known character, King Croesus of Lydia.

This book is both a look at the history of the final days of and empire, and a small story about one man. When he decides to go to war with Persia it’s because he sees a map of the world and feels sad that he doesn’t have more of it. The personalities of the two men couldn’t be more different and I think that is a compliment to the writing. The prose is quite simple but there are some really beautiful and poetic descriptions of life that lift it above the ordinary.Counterpoint to this is the attitude of Croesus’ slave, Isocrates, for whom happiness is ‘when nothing changes’. 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. 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.

I give it points for being decently written, for the interesting choice of Croesus as subject matter, and for having the determination to try and be a deep, thought-provoking book – I just didn’t think the author pulled it off. The conversation that the two have, where Croesus seeks to unravel the truth and Harpagus is surprisingly frank about his past, was one of my favorite parts in the book. 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.

and made offerings to Greek shrines, especially *Delphi; anecdotes attest his friendliness to Greek visitors and his wealth. We march with armies, both in the company of their leaders and their slaves, and we live in palaces filled with unthinkable treasures and mundane daily life. All of the main characters are multidimensional, easy to relate to and to empathise with, and historical fact is woven seamlessly into the storyline. The first chapter gives a strong sense of what's to follow: The guards had long since learned the way to make a royal prisoner docile. 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.