The Fall of Troy

by Peter Ackroyd

Fakes, forgeries and plagiarism abound in Ackroyd’s brilliant historical novel, set in the 19th century during the excavation of the Bronze Age site of Troy.

“I cannot wait to bring you to the plain of Troy. To show you the place where Hector and Achilles fought. To show you the palace of Priam. And the walls where the Trojan women watched their warriors in battle with the invader. It will stir your blood, Sophia.”

Sophia Chrysanthis is only 16 when the German archaeologist, Herr Obermann, comes he wants a Greek bride who knows her Homer. Sophia passes his test, and soon she is tying canvas sacking to her legs so that she can kneel on the hard ground in the trench, removing the earth methodically, identifying salient points, lifting out amphorae and bronze vessels without damaging them.

“Archaeology is not a science,” Obermann says. “It is an art.”

Obermann is very good at the art of archaeology — perhaps too good at it. The atmosphere at Troy is tense and mysterious. Sophia finds herself increasingly baffled by the past . . . not only the remote past that Obermann is so keen to share with her in the form of his beloved epics of the Trojan wars, but also his own, recent past — a past that he has chosen to hide from her.

But she, too, is very good at the art of archaeology . . .


From the Hardcover edition.

Genres: Historical Fiction, Fiction, Historical, Mythology, Archaeology, Greece, Classics

256 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 2006

About the author

Peter Ackroyd CBE is an English novelist and biographer with a particular interest in the history and culture of London.

Peter Ackroyd's mother worked in the personnel department of an engineering firm, his father having left the family home when Ackroyd was a baby. He was reading newspapers by the age of 5 and, at 9, wrote a play about Guy Fawkes. Reputedly, he first realized he was gay at the age of 7.

Ackroyd was educated at St. Benedict's, Ealing and at Clare College, Cambridge, from which he graduated with a double first in English. In 1972, he was a Mellon Fellow at Yale University in the United States. The result of this fellowship was Ackroyd's Notes for a New Culture, written when he was only 22 and eventually published in 1976. The title, a playful echo of T. S. Eliot's Notes Towards the Definition of Culture (1948), was an early indication of Ackroyd's penchant for creatively exploring and reexamining the works of other London-based writers.

Ackroyd's literary career began with poetry, including such works as London Lickpenny (1973) and The Diversions of Purley (1987). He later moved into fiction and has become an acclaimed author, winning the 1998 James Tait Black Memorial Prize for the biography Thomas More and being shortlisted for the Booker Prize in 1987.

Ackroyd worked at The Spectator magazine between 1973 and 1977 and became joint managing editor in 1978. In 1982 he published The Great Fire of London, his first novel. This novel deals with one of Ackroyd's great heroes, Charles Dickens, and is a reworking of Little Dorrit. The novel set the stage for the long sequence of novels Ackroyd has produced since, all of which deal in some way with the complex interaction of time and space, and what Ackroyd calls "the spirit of place". It is also the first in a sequence of novels of London, through which he traces the changing, but curiously consistent nature of the city. Often this theme is explored through the city's artists, and especially its writers.

Ackroyd has always shown a great interest in the city of London, and one of his best known works, London: The Biography, is an extensive and thorough discussion of London through the ages.

His fascination with London literary and artistic figures is also displayed in the sequence of biographies he has produced of Ezra Pound (1980), T. S. Eliot (1984), Charles Dickens (1990), William Blake (1995), Thomas More (1998), Chaucer (2004), William Shakespeare (2005), and J. M. W. Turner. The city itself stands astride all these works, as it does in the fiction.

From 2003 to 2005, Ackroyd wrote a six-book non-fiction series (Voyages Through Time), intended for readers as young as eight. This was his first work for children. The critically acclaimed series is an extensive narrative of key periods in world history.

Early in his career, Ackroyd was nominated a Fellow of the Royal Society of Literature in 1984 and, as well as producing fiction, biography and other literary works, is also a regular radio and television broadcaster and book critic.

In the New Year's honours list of 2003, Ackroyd was awarded the CBE.

Reviews

[Stephen · Rating 4 out of 5]

Archaeology in support of poetry…
Truth informed solely by belief…
Mythology as foundation for worldview…

DAMN...this is crazy, unique, and beautiful story.

19th century archaeology may frame this novel, and the ruins of the ancient city of Troy may color it, but those elements don’t begin to describe this book. This work is a sonnet honoring headstrong, unrestrained human passion and the seductive obsession of personal truth over objective facts. That, plus a lush, lyrical stroll through the pages of the Iliad, where Homer’s epic, and all of its gods and heroes, comes to life through the unfettered, unshakeable will of its main character…Heinrich Obermann.

This is my first Peter Ackroyd novel, and don’t believe I would ever have read this if not for Shovelmonkey1’s wonderful review. I loved it. I think J. Oppenheimer best paraphrased my feelings upon finishing the story when he said, “I am become fan…gusher of praise.”

For me, my affection for this book begins and ends with Herr Heinrich Obermann, a character who makes larger-than-life feel mundane and pedestrian by comparison. An adventurer obsessed, and I mean OBSESSED, with Homer and his ancient epic of the city of Troy, who believes he has discovered the location of the ancient city in Turkey. His mission, undertaken with the zeal and single-mindedness of a Captain Ahab, is to bring this discovery to the world, and no contrary fact nor conflicting evidence, no matter how “in his face,” will dissuade him from his quest.

He is the personification of bombastic, self-assured determination. From a literary standpoint, he is…in a word…UNFORGETTABLE.

But wait...there's more. In addition to a memorable main character, Ackroyd gifts the reader with a display of his vast knowledge of both history and mythology, by seamlessly weaving fascinating details into the narrative. Not only entertaining, compelling storytelling, but very impressive as well.

PLOT SUMMARY:

Obermann, a celebrated amateur archaeologist, has discovered what he is convinced are the ruins of Troy in Turkey. Obermann intends to prove that the Iliad, which he knows verbatim and has be infatuated with all his life, is historical fact, and all of the gods and heroes populating its pages existed…for real. Any other interpretation is nonsense to him…his quest is right, ordained by the gods, and he will succeed.

Wait until you meet him.

The other piece of this Greek tragedy is Obermann’s new, much younger wife, Sophia, who falls enamored with Obermann’s infectious optimism and personal charisma. She throws herself into Obermann’s expedition, and the two of them travel to the excavation site to continue Heinrich’s work.

Enter…drama.

Almost immediately, Sophia starts to see chinks in Obermann’s Homeric armor, as she learns fragments of his mysterious past, sees him overlook or ignore unsupportive finds, and even manipulates relics to fit his theories.

The rest…is for you to excavate on your own, but you will find: danger...deceit…discoveries…cover ups…conspiracies…betrayals…murder...Iliad reenactments…mad women…and more

THOUGHTS:

I don’t know if Ackroyd’s other books are like this, but this was a unique reading experience for me. Fresh, original, and captivating, it was unlike anything I had encountered before.

Me liked it…lots.

And it all comes back to Obermann, and his singularly passionate and nutso view of the world. Part Indiana Jones, part P.T. Barnum, part borderline mental patient, he is a force of nature. Every observation or comment appears derived from some aspect of the Homer’s epic poem, as filtered through his senses and then applied to current events.

For example, Early on in the story, as Heinrich and his wife are approaching the coast of Turkey:

Do you see there, Sophia, that bay? That is where the princess Hesione was exposed to the attacks of the sea-monster sent by Neptune. Do you see that promontory of black rock? That is where Hercules saved her.

No qualification, or caveat regarding the veracity of the story…for Obermann, it happened exactly the way Homer said it did. It is truth and it colors everything about him.

Here another one…later, when a visiting professor questions one of Obermann’s claims, the exchange goes as follows:

'In your latest report to The Times, Mr. Obermann, you mentioned a tower.'
'Of course. It is there? Do you not see it rising out of the earth?'
'I see a piece of wall. Nothing more.'
'Look again, Professor. It is the tower that Andromache ascended because she had heard that the Trojans were hard pressed and that the power of the Achaeans was great.'
'I know the passage, Mr. Obermann. But I’ll be darned if I can see the tower.'
'No matter. We have a different vision.'

“No Matter. We have a different vision.” That sentence sums up Obermann perfectly.

Finally, an example of an attitude you see throughout the book; namely, Obermann’s unapologetic willingness to dissemble in support of his cause. Here, the Professor once again speaking to Herr Obermann about one of his claims:

'But one thing does puzzle me.'
'Yes?'
'In your report to The Times you say that the palace was built on the summit. But it is here, on the north-west ridge.'
'It is necessary to inspire the readers of your newspapers. To give them dreams. That is my, idealism, Professor. In my imagination I witnessed the gleaming palace surmounting all.'

I don’t think you will have ever come across a character quite like Herr Obermann. Deeply moving, deeply flawed, even dangerous, but so engaging you will not be able to look away and he will almost make you wish you could see the world through his eyes.

In conclusion, this was a terrific first experience with Peter Ackroyd’s work, and it has made me anxious to read more of his novels. I both admired and deeply enjoyed this one.

4.0 stars. HIGHLY RECOMMENDED

[Shovelmonkey1 · Rating 5 out of 5]

As a practising archaeologist, I'm automatically drawn, like an old moth to an archaic flame when it comes to historical fiction dealing with the pursuit of archaeology. It's like a sickness but I can't stop reading this kind of book. The fixation started with River God by Wilbur Smith and continued with The Seventh Scroll and it has since been born out by Agatha Christie, latterly by Peter Ackroyd and by cinematic greats such as Indiana Jones and the slightly less great "Mummy" series.

The pursuit of "fact, not truth" and the "fortune and glory" (okay, last Indiana Jones quote, I promise) aspects of archaeology have been gently burying (or unearthing?) themselves in the public psyches since the Grand Tours of the 18th century and the Egypto-mania caused by the discovery of Tutankhamun's tomb in the 1920s and this seems unlikely to cease any time soon.

Peter Ackroyd is a man who knows history. Not only is he a well respected historian with an encyclopaedic knowledge of London cinched tightly under his belt, but he also understands what draws people to scrabble about on their hands and knees in the dirt, and even better, what draws further people into reading about it. The Fall of Troy is masterfully written and Ackroyd's evocative descriptions of the plains and villages around Hissarlik and the ruins of Troy itself are excellent and absorbing. Herr Obermann believes the ancient Tell site (or hoyuk as it would be in Turkey), to be the Homeric site of Troy. A dangerous obsession with the Gods and mortals depicted by Homer sends the learned but autodidactic Obermann on a flighty path of imagination and ultimately self destruction as his fixation with the truth of Homer and the greatness of Troy come to interfere with the very fact of his own perceptions of reality. It is well documented that archaeology tends to attract people who might be termed a bit unusual but to be a 19th century archaeologist required a breadth of imagination which most people do not grasp and Ackroyd has captured this perfectly with Obermann. He has the ability to pick up an abraded shard of pottery and not only conjure up the shape of the vessel, but to see into the dirt and conjure the face of the man who once shaped it and the city in which he lived and this is something else altogether.

Ackroyd pulls threads of historical fact, fiction and mythology into this book and weaves them tighter than a Turkish kilim. Rarely have I read a book which highlights so well one of the core fears which plagues that of the "digger" both modern and antiquarian - the hope to have discovered a famous site so well documented in ancient texts, only to find that not only is the archaeology intent on disproving your theories, so is the rest of the academic community.

[Kalliope · Rating 5 out of 5]

I thoroughly enjoyed reading this novel. It felt like flying, may be because I practically read it in the course of two medium-length flights.

As there are many good reviews of this book, I will not extend myself too much.

Ackroyd is a master teller. He polishes the fascination that his amateur archeologist Heinrich Obermann (a.k.a. Henrich Schliemann) feels for anything Homeric to a degree of brilliance that it naturally reflects back from Obermann himself. Those people living around him, or visiting him or spying on him are drawn by his visions and enthusiasm. This fascination proves contagious to the readers too.

The plot is also ingeniously handled. The development of Obermann’s personality simultaneously spins its own threads of destiny that will lead, necessarily, to his tragic fate. But I think the final brooch to Ackroyd’s abilities goes to his skill in giving different voices to different characters. Their speech portrays their personality. Not many writers have this chameleonic ability with their pen. Julian Barnes is one of them. Simone de Beauvoir, however, failed.

The novel renewed my interest in the Troy and Schliemann excavations. I already have sitting on top of my piano a framed postcard of the so called “Agamemnon mask”, but as soon as I arrived back home after my flights/reading, I switched on my computer and browsed through the internet checking fiction with fact and looked for further readings.

This is the Agamemnon that, poor thing, has to listen to my piano practice.



Navigating through the web of the American School of Classical Studies in Athens, it is immediately apparent what an extraordinary person Heinrich Schliemann was. Amongst other documents, some of his diaries are preserved. These are written in several languages, depending on where he was writing them. We have his texts in German, French, English, Spanish, Italian, Greek, Arabic, Russian, Dutch, Polish and Turkish. These multifaceted written records can be seen as a proxy to his multifaceted life, abilities and personality.

But if one wants to check whether Ackroyd’s eccentric Obermann and his idiosyncratic understanding of Archaeological practices is an appropriate impersonation of Schliemann, the best is to look at the picture of Sophia (could she have had a better name?), wearing the beautiful and becoming treasures found by her husband in his excavations.



Can one have any doubts?

[Mark · Rating 4 out of 5]

You know how as you read a novel you will often get a picture of one of the characters in your head and after that all evidence to the contrary will have to be subsumed into your image no matter how much mental gymnasticing that might involve. Here, for me, was a classic case in point. The main character, a german archaeologist called Obermann, had the misfortune of resembling in my head the author picture of Peter Ackroyd on the inside cover of my copy. This meant every scene was played through with the squat, slick backed hair of the chubby Peter playing the lead. This was fine until half way through the book when the character suddenly challenges another of the men to a running race echoing that of Hector and Achilles. As I read this account my poor little imagination nigh on exploded as i had to imagine the squat little bloke careering around the ruins of ancient Troy and winning aforesaid race ( though as a result of some sinister shenanigans ).

I only offer you this glimpse into my imagination because it is a useful pointer to the main thrust of this great little novel. It is the story of one man's obsession, an obsession which brooks no contradiction or alteration. He is one who decides on His Truth (intentionally capitalized) and that truth is maintained and elevated no matter what evidence may be found to the contrary.

The excavation of a site of which he is certain is the grave of Ancient Troy is the setting for all kinds of battles. Battles of will between an ego who refuses to allow questions of any kind unless they be to elucidate his certainties and of those seeking genuine truth, battles of the heart in which questions of loyalty and faithfulness and affection struggle with duty and social expectation or the need for a single-minded search after adventurous discovery, battles of the old gods of warm mystery or is that superstition with the new gods of cold fact or is that impoverishment of the human spirit and then the question that is left hanging is which of these gods actually is in control and is one disguised in another form.

Really clever linking of the struggles of ancient Troy and the actions of the gods with the deliberations and adventures of these 19th century explorers. It is wonderfully open-ended and all sorts of loose threads hang off this unfinished tapestry. A mysterious death left unexplained, an object lost inexplicably during the night in a sacred grove, the natural world of earthquake and owl cries challenging a too simplistic acceptance of a godless world.

One of the characters mournfully observes towards the end of the book that he must now find out what the world is like without vision. It seems to me that Peter Ackroyd makes very clear in the last sentence of his book that he does not want us to share that poverty.

[Roger Brunyate · Rating 4 out of 5]

A Glorious Rogue

Heinrich Schliemann discovered Troy, that much I knew. I had always assumed him to be some dusty nineteenth-century German professor, treading in the footsteps of the illustrious Goethe. But no. As I now see from Wikipedia, he was a wealthy amateur, opportunist, and rogue. He was German born, yes, but worked mostly in Russia and America, where he became an American citizen; he was a polylinguist, speaking fourteen languages at the time of his death. He made his first million, possibly fraudulently, in the California Gold Rush, and multiplied it several times over by cornering parts of the armaments market in the Crimean War. He retired from business in his later forties and moved to Athens to pursue his passion: to rediscover the ancient sites described by Homer. Divorcing his Russian wife, he married a Greek girl thirty years his junior named Sophia Engastromenos. His excavations at the hill of Hissarlik, on the Turkish side of the Hellespont, revealed a history of ancient cities, built on top of one another over the course of several millennia. As skilled in self-promotion as he was lucky in archaeology, Schliemann made himself a world-famous figure, while further enhancing his private wealth with treasures smuggled from the site.


Sophia Engastromenos Schliemann, wearing jewels excavated from Troy by her husband Heinrich Schliemann

Most of this finds its way into Ackroyd's compact novel, at least as background. At first, only the surnames are changed: meet Heinrich Obermann and Sophia Chrysanthis, beautifully apt monikers for the megalomaniac archaeologist and his golden bride. It is an arranged marriage, but Sophia is swept away by the energy and enthusiasm of her husband, by the sheer scale of his excavations, and by his pagan conviction that they have been chosen by the gods to walk again in their ancient footsteps; there is a beautiful chapter in which they ride up the slopes of Mount Ida to visit the glade where Paris chose between the goddesses Hera, Athene, and Aphrodite. Heinrich, who knows much of Homer by memory, works largely by instinct, feeling the presence of ancient civilizations in the air around him and the ground under his feet, and apparently being mostly right. When visiting experts from Harvard or the British Museum raise some tentative questions about proof, Heinrich merely puts his hand to his heart, saying that he has all the proof he needs right there.


Hissarlik Hill, Turkey, during Schliemann's excavation

As the novel proceeds, it becomes clear why Ackroyd has changed the names. He needs to develop the larger-than-life Heinrich in his own way, bringing events to conclusions that have no basis in history, but are nonetheless deeply rooted in character. Sophia proves remarkably competent in helping with the excavations, offering insights of her own, and serving as a charming mediator between her husband and those irritating visitors. But she also becomes aware that her husband is keeping secrets from her: not merely the valuable finds he conceals from their Turkish overseer, but also facts about his own history that she discovers only by accident. And when a young English paleontologist comes to the site to work on what appear to be tablets inscribed with writing, and his conclusions threaten to disprove everything that Heinrich had so fervently believed, events move to a climax that is both understated and devastating. Not for nothing is this novel called the Fall of Troy. It is hard not to weep for the loss to science that Heinrich's bull-in-a-china-shop attitudes incur; similar charges were raised against Schliemann. Yet what we end with is the radiance of Heinrich's vision, and of Homer's epic blazing through him. Heinrich—whether Obermann or Schliemann—may have been a rogue, but he certainly was a glorious one.

[Teresa · Rating 4 out of 5]

Heinrich Schliemann (1822-1890) foi um arqueólogo alemão que, fascinado pelas obras de Homero, acreditava que os acontecimentos narrados na Ilíada eram reais. Em 1873, realizou o seu sonho ao descobrir, na Turquia, ruínas que acreditou serem as de Tróia, e jóias a que ele chamou "tesouro de Príamo". Posteriormente, arqueólogos analisaram o lugar e verificaram vários erros no trabalho de Schliemann; quer no seus métodos selvagens de escavação - sarcasticamente, um historiador disse que Schliemann conseguiu fazer uma maior destruição em Tróia do que os gregos -; quer na datação dos achados - as jóias eram de um período de mil anos antes do referido na Ilíada.



(Estação Arqueológica de Hisarlik)


[Sophia Schliemann, a segunda mulher de Heinrich Schliemann, com as "jóias de Helena de Tróia" (o "tesouro de Príamo" está, actualmente, no Museu Pushkin, em Moscovo)]


O romance de Peter Ackroyd é inspirado na vida de Heinrich Schlieman e inicia-se no noivado de Heinrich e Sophia - que foi seleccionada pelo noivo de uma lista de mulheres bonitas, novas, gregas, com nomes gregos e interessadas nos clássicos gregos. Após o casamento, partem da Grécia e vão para Hisarlik onde ocorrem várias peripécias durante as escavações.
Este romance não é uma biografia - o desenvolvimento final revela-o claramente -, no entanto é uma leitura muito interessante e divertida sobre a paixão de um homem por uma época, que lhe é revelada por uma obra literária.

[BAM doesn’t answer to her real name · Rating 2 out of 5]

2.5 stars
A very greedy man takes a young lady just discovering life as his wife just to exploit her mind and talents on an archeological dig at Troy
He takes and takes until he breaks everything including himself
A moral tale of what selfishness can destroy

[Jane · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is not another novel about the Trojan War and its aftermath. This was a suspenseful novel about the archaeological excavations of the 19th century; Heinrich Obermann was a thinly-disguised Heinrich Schliemann. This was a fascinating book; it begins with the marriage of Herr Obermann with a young Greek girl, Sophia, many years younger than he. They travel to Hissarlik, where Obermann feels the actual Troy has been buried. Sophia helps him in his work: she feels "if she embraced her duties with enthusiasm they ceased to be burdensome. That is why she immersed herself in Homer, and why she took pride in he excavations." She meets some of her husband's friends, none of whom are as obsessive and single-minded as Obermann. The author shows all through the novel his blindness in his twisting what he sees before him to fit 'truths' he believes about Troy; to him Troy is always the Troy of Homer.

Sophia begins to think her husband is not what he seems; she begins to find deviousness and wants to find out the truth about him. He had a previous wife of whom he had not told her. When Obermann finds a cache of golden ornaments, so that the Turkish government does not find them, he has Sophia spirit them away to a Phrygian Greek couple he knows, to hide them. Sophia hears an odd, anguished scream--not the lady of the house. A visiting American archaeologist mysteriously dies of a fever after exploring a particular cave. After discovery of clay tablets written in an unknown language Thornton, a British archaeologist and expert on ancient languages, enters the picture. He and Sophia try to decipher the tablets. From one pictograph he makes a shocking discovery about what kind of people had probably lived in Troy. The denouement was fitting.

[Darkpool · Rating 5 out of 5]

I listened to the Audiobook version, rather than reading this book. There is something of a theatrical quality to this book, and I feel it would make a wonderful film. There is the real sense of inevitability to the story - once the characters have made their decisions the plot thunders inexorably to its conclusion like a Greek tragedy. Michael Maloney, who reads the book, does a wonderful job, and enhances the author's characterisations with his reading. I'm left wondering the extent to which the book's central character Obermann, resembles the real life Schliemann on whom he was based.
I'll certainly be hunting down more by this author in future.

[Niki · Rating 3 out of 5]

In fact 3.5/5 because it is beautifully written -
Peter Ackroyd knows his subject to perfection, and the portrait of that Obermann fellow (avatar of Heinrich Schliemann) is quite formidable - that man is so obsessed by the subject of Troy and by Homer (and Virgil) that it is totally on the verge of madness - quite honestly i really loathed the guy, but Ackroyd's historical novel is a good thriller and i recommend it if you like historical novels

[Lady Knight · Rating 1 out of 5]

First off, I'm going to admit that there were several times I was ready to give up on this one and only restrained myself as I had no other audiobooks to listen to as I worked.

This really should have been a good read for me as, superficially at least, the book ticked a lot of boxes for me:
Archaeology? Check.
Fictional retelling of real historical figures? Check.
Interesting premise? Check.
Historical setting? Check.
My problem(s)? I hated the characters (and yes I know Obermann is suppossed to be a fictional representation of Schliemann), I disliked the writing style, and was generally bored with the whole story (I didn't really care for the narrator either which certainly did help improve my opinion). I wanted Sophia to have more backbone earlier on, I wanted someone to punch Obermann, I wanted Sophia's parents to wake up and see what a creep their son-in-law was, and just in general I wanted the story to not feel quite as slimy....
Definitely not a read I enjoyed, nor one I'd recommend.

[Nicky · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was a lot better than I expected it to be, given it was a random find in a charity shop. The central character, Herr Obermann, is an odd one: unlikeable in his fanaticism, and yet attractive in his dedication to his ideas. The supporting characters are not so vivid, but Sophia has a quiet strength which is very appealing.

The story itself is more suspense and quiet threat than action, really. The dialogue is odd, rather stiff, because Peter Ackroyd seems to make a pretty good attempt at representing how people speak English as a second language. The writing itself is functional rather than beautiful, rather matter of fact, but not a chore to read. It does make the potential romances that could be built here rather prosaic and flat, and the whole thing feels reserved, but it works, here.

[Charles Sheard · Rating 5 out of 5]

This novel didn't necessarily seem like a five-star work while I was reading it. Well-written, enjoyable, with sharply-limned characters certainly, but perhaps lacking the gravitas to warrant five stars. But as the novel progressed, the torrent of affection for Homer's version of Troy becomes so palpable that one cannot resist its grasp. Ancient Troy comes alive, to paraphrase Sophia. It is also satisfying that Ackroyd avoids the easy choices he could have taken, such as not explicitly stating or showing Obermann's guilt in some of the events, instead merely implying the likelihood. Obermann is terrifically drawn and from the opening page becomes an easily-despised figure. But he also bursts through with such enthusiasm, and occasionally displays flashes of brilliance, that one questions one's early loathing for him. Certainly my enjoyment of the novel is colored by my preexisting fondness for archaeology and Homer. As a result, for this reader at least, Ackroyd manages to bring the windy plain of Scamander, and the ancient walls of stone, to life once more, peopled again with living emotions.

One oddity, for me, was the choice to have so many factual, historical elements remain (e.g. the first names Heinrich and Sophia), but to change certain other elements (e.g. the last names Schliemann and Engastromenos).

[Suzanne Thackston · Rating 2 out of 5]

I really wanted to like this book. I love everything about the Trojan cycle, mythic and historical, and I love the story of that odd brilliant scoundrel, Schliemann. But this book, this writing style, is not grooving with me. Since it's clearly based on Schliemann and Sophia, I don't know why the author coyly renames the main character into something almost the same. I dunno, maybe there are legal reasons, but it comes off as 'Since I'm not using Schliemann's name I can make this seem like a fiction.'
Which it is, to a degree. I like fictionalized history. But I don't like this.
I don't like the odd stilted writing style. It would work for dialogue, but not for an entire book. It's abrupt and off-putting. It prevents me from really falling into the characters the way I need to. There's little description of the setting, not enough to make me feel as if I'm there.
I'll give the writer this, he's a master of 'show not tell' which I very much admire. I just don't like his storytelling style.
When we're talking about the site where so much history and myth strode across the landscape, I need way more pity, terror and grandeur.

[Captain Sir Roddy, R.N. (Ret.) · Rating 4 out of 5]

I rather enjoyed this slim novel. If you've read Homer's Iliad and have any interest, whatsoever, about the historical aspects of the discovery of Troy on the Asia Minor coastline, then this book is for you. Peter Ackroyd does a wonderful job of telling an enthralling tale about the discovery of the ruins of Troy and its initial excavation. His two primary protagonists are rather tightly based upon the German amateur archaeologists, Heinrich Schliemann, and his young Greek wife, Sofia, who discovered the ruins of what Schliemann believed to be Troy in 1869 near what is now known as Hissarlik, Turkey. Being a dyed-in-the-wool Iliad junkie, I have to say that I enjoyed this book very much. The writing is spare and well-crafted, and quite poetic at times. I enjoyed this novel nearly as much I did David Malouf's beautiful little Iliad-based novel Ransom (2010).

[Bettie · Rating 3 out of 5]

Obermann is based on Schliemann. Quirky, however I wasn't that keen on any of the characters.


3* Hawksmoor
4* Shakespeare
1* The Lambs of London
3* The Fall of Troy
4* Chatterton
3* The House of Dr Dee
5* Dickens
2* The Plato Papers
4* Wilkie Collins

[Jorge Zuluaga · Rating 5 out of 5]

Una novela que combina historia, arqueología de la buena y de la mala, dramas humanos, fantasía y hasta un poco de misterio. ¡De todo mi gusto!

Perfecta para quiénes amamos la obra de Homero (¡yo la descubría apenas hace poco!) y la igualmente fascinante historia del asombroso Heinrich Schliemann y su no menos admirable esposa Sofía Egastromenos, que descubrieron las ruinas de la Troya (enterrada debajo y sobre otras muchas Troyas de siglos antes y después de la ciudad mítica del poema Homérico) en la solitaria colina de Hisarlik, cerca a las costas del Helesponto en lo que hoy es Turquía.

Precisamente casi toda la acción de la novela se desarrolla en las excavaciones que Schliemann (personificado aquí por Herr Heinrich Obermann) ha iniciado ya en la colina de Hisarlik, a la que llega su nueva y todavía confundida esposa, Sophia Chrysianthis (que naturalmente personifica a la Sofía verdadera). La novela cubre un corto período de tiempo de unos meses o hasta un año, en el que sin embargo se producen eventos increíbles, entre la realidad histórica, la más evidente de las fantasías y algunas especulaciones del autor, sobre el aún oscuro origen e historia de los antiguos habitantes de Ilión (el nombre en la "lengua de los dioses" de Troya), o como diría Homero, los teucros, domadores de caballos.

Me encontré el libro en una canasta de ofertas en una librería en Colombia (a la que agradezco infinitamente por hacer esto, vender libros a precios accesibles en un país que casi no lee).

El costo, $15.000 pesos (aproximadamente USD$4) es desconcertantemente incompatible con la cuidada edición que hizo la editorial Edhasa (2006): tapa dura y papel de calidad.

Es claro que se trataba de un saldo, pero que suerte tendrán quienes como yo se cruzaron con esta novela vendida como saldos y que seguramente seguirá teniendo lectores en las décadas por venir.

Me sorprendió mucho descubrir la calificación promedio tan baja que tenía la novela en GoodReads (3.3). Es raro ver libros de autores relativamente reconocidos como Akroyd, con calificaciones tan bajas. Eso me predispuso un poco al comenzar a leerla (lamentablemente).

Unos cuantos capítulos después me sorprendí atrapado por la historia. Ahora no sé por qué está tan mal calificada. Con respeto a todos los lectores que me precedieron, creería que una de las razones para calificarla tan mal es pensar que se trata de una historia completamente ficticia.

Como mencione al principio, para quiénes conocen la asombrosa aventura de Schliemann, es imposible no sentirse fascinados por una reconstrucción aparentemente fiel de su personalidad y por el recuento del tipo de aventuras (así las del libro sean imaginarias) que posiblemente vivió al lado de su esposa mientras desenterraba la mítica Troya.

La novela te transporta al incómodo pero al mismo tiempo sorprendente mundo de una excavación arqueológica (tal vez no la más rigurosa, como lo señalan algunos de los protagonistas y como lo recuerdan los especialistas de los trabajos iniciales de Schliemann). Las condiciones difíciles de la vida en un lugar elegido por el azar por la historia (el que una vez fue un emplazamiento de importancia, en un reino respetado y desarrollado, ahora puede estar en la mitad de una llanura desolada en un país socialmente atrasado); sometido a los caprichosos elementos o bajo el riesgo permanente de saqueos o la destrucción accidental de objetos maravillosos, con secretos desconocidos, tan solo al entrar en contacto con el aire.

Los diálogos son imaginativos y vivaces. En ocasiones me sentí leyendo una obra de teatro. Me encantaría que la novela fuera llevada al cine y no dudaría que sería un drama exitoso, además de una excelente medio de divulgación de la arqueología y un modo de recordar la increíble historia del descubrimiento de Troya por Schliemann. Me extraña que el cine o la televisión no hayan explotado más la figura de este personaje.

En fin. Lean a Homero, lean "La caída de Troya" de Acroyd.

[Jack Bates · Rating 5 out of 5]

I love Peter Ackroyd. This is great, and there are extra bonuses for anyone interested in the history of archaeology, Troy, Homer, etc.

[bambi · Rating 3 out of 5]

obermann sg bi sigara ic kendine gel

[Rodeweeks · Rating 2 out of 5]

I've struggled to read previous books by Ackroyd, this one was okay although I'm not at all impressed with the ending. I'm not planning to read any more Peter Ackroyd books

[Spiros · Rating 3 out of 5]

Peter Ackroyd is his own Evil Twin. As a literary historian, he is absolutely brilliant; he has written insightful, cogent, and stirring biographies of Blake, More, and Shakespeare, as well as incisive overviews of the intellectual life of London and the history of the English imagination. His biography of Dickens may well be the greatest "non-fiction" book that I have ever read. As a novelist, however, he is (to put it charitably) wildly uneven. He has written the wonderful Milton in America, but he has also written several novels which I have struggled to get through or even abandoned altogether. They suffer from a feeling of inconsequence, almost as though they were byproducts of his research for his weightier non-fiction works. Howsobeit, my esteem for Ackroyd as a literary historian is so great that I feel almost obliged to read all of his novels, or at least attempt to do so; I must admit that I pick up a new Ackroyd novel with a feeling not unlike trepidation.
His latest, The Fall of Troy, decidedly falls into the top rank of his fiction. It is the story of a megalomaniacal German archaeologist, Heinrich Obermann (not Ubermensch), a bumptious autodidact who not only is convinced that every word in Homer is the literal truth, but that he, Obermann, has found and is excavating the City of Troy; we also witness the impact of his obsession on his young Greek wife, Sophia(!), on his devoted acolyte, Leonid, whom he tiresomely but significantly refers to as Telemachus(!), and on the much more scientifically inclined British linguist, Alexander(!). The story runs satisfyingly from suspense to melodrama, and is wonderfully evocative of the age of the primordial crackpot archaologists, such as Howard Carter, Arthur Evans, and, of course, Heinrich Schliemann, the fabled discoverer of Troy: men not afraid to ignore any evidence that would interfere with their cherished image of the past. In our own fallen age, paleontology and primatology are the fields that attract the self-aggrandizing showboats; the obsessions seem somehow less poetic.

(!) above denotes names which may (or may not) have allegorical significance.

[Jeremiah Genest · Rating 4 out of 5]

In Ackroyd's intricately plotted little tale, Heinrich Schliemann - the controversial 19th century swindler and fabulist-turned-archaeologist who claimed to have discovered Homer's Troy - becomes the character Heinrich Obermann,who has made an arranged marriage to a young Greek wife, Sophia. Like Schliemann, Obermann has a somewhat sinister cast to his project -- a desire to find physical evidence for racialist theories that the Greeks and Trojans were descended from superior Northern European warrior stock that pushed into Greece and Anatolia to vanquish the "Asiatic" inhabitants. Gradually, Sophia begins -- almost accidentally and unwillingly -- to uncover the secret and unsavory past of her wealthy new husband and circumstances quickly -- a trifle too quickly and conveniently -- build to an appropriately Grecian, which is to say, tragic end. Ackroyd has a good deal of layered fun with all this and provides a sly, witty and oddly engaging novel that meditates on literature and idealism and the uses and misuses of both.

[Frank · Rating 2 out of 5]

This is my second try of a Peter Ackroyd novel this year, and I come away with pretty much the same impression as with the first, The Lambs of London: not very substantive. Not that every story I reads needs to be life changing or earth shattering; the substance I'm looking for is a voice, an authorial voice, commanding or charming, distinctive or demanding. Ackroyd's voice (at least in these two selections) seems thin and watery. To apply a much used quote, "There's no there there".

The characters in The Fall of Troy are based upon the real-life Heinrich Schliemann and his seventeen-year-old Greek bride Sophia Engastromenos whom he married in 1869. Unlike Ackroyd's Heinrich, the real Schliemann did not die near Troy during the excavations, but of an ear infection in Naples in 1890.

[Sarah (is clearing her shelves) · Rating 3 out of 5]

For the first two thirds of the book I found this really quite slow and a bit of a struggle to stick with (the only reason I was able to keep going was the fact that it was only a couple of hundred pages long and I felt that I would be giving up too easily if I couldn't finish a book that short). The last third of the book was quite a bit better and more interesting. I intend to read more of Peter Ackroyd's books so I hope that this book is not a sign of things to come or the best of them all.

[Kirjavaras · Rating 4 out of 5]

The Fall of Troy on fantastisia elementtejä hyödyntävä historiallinen romaani myyttisen Troijan kaupungin kaivauksilta. Se kyseenalaistaa hellimämme kuvan antiikin kulttuuriperinnöstä ja kysyy, mikä osuus idealismilla on historiankirjoituksessa. Herkullisen provokatiivinen romaani antiikin, historian ja mytologian ystäville.

[Corey · Rating 5 out of 5]

I think this is a small masterpiece.

[Tony Laplume · Rating 4 out of 5]

I treasure Peter Ackroyd about as much as some treasure Troy. I’m not sure his Fall of Troy is among his best efforts, but it’s still a typically good read.

I’ve been reading Ackroyd for twenty years, ever since fortuitously coming across his then-newly published Plato Papers, which was to become a defining moment in my mature understanding of literature. Over the years I haven’t managed to read all of his other work, but I’ve made a pretty good dent, including what seems to have become the consensus defining work of his career, London: The Biography. What’s so interesting about Ackroyd is that he never falls asleep on history. In a lot of ways, the main character of Troy might almost be modeled after Ackroyd himself.

Heinrich Obermann is modeled after Heinrich Schliemann, of course, who history celebrates as rediscovering Troy in the 19th century. As a very amateur, but enthusiastic student of Homer, Schliemann’s work is something that’s interested me for a long time, and generally I’ve tended to believe him in the same sense that I believe Homer existed. I may be gullible. In recent years my sophistication where Schliemann is concerned has increased. I’ve read a little more about him. Maybe he allowed his enthusiasm to get ahead of him.

Ackroyd’s Obermann is a representation of that skepticism perhaps more accurately than of Schliemann. He is ambiguously sinister, and Ackroyd obviously takes poetic license (it seems appropriate, given the subject matter) concerning his ultimate fate. His blushing bride perhaps is too inclined to lust after younger rivals.

Still, accurate or not it’s thrilling to see such a domineering mind on the plains of Troy, whether manipulating or educating those around him in his deep understanding of Homer’s legacy. That’s the Obermann that shines through. Ackroyd has fancied himself a connoisseur of charlatans, it’s true (The Lambs of London), but I think he may inadvertently or not be writing another parable of his own times, in which we have facts aplenty but are not always certain what to do with them except force them into convenient shapes, regardless of their placement in reality. We think this is a game for less certain times and people who had less access to accumulated knowledge. We are probably wrong. It just looks different now, is all.

I remain, above all, enthralled of Ackroyd.

[Tanya · Rating 3 out of 5]

There are many Turks who believe that the capture of Constantinople was a just vengeance for the fall of Troy. The Greeks were at last made to pay for their perfidy. [loc. 2376]

Reread: my review from 2010 is here. I remembered nothing at all about this novel! Apparently I purchased a paperback copy in 2007: as with almost all of his other novels, no Kindle edition is available.

Ackroyd bases his novel on the life of Heinrich Schliemann, who first excavated Troy, and his marriage to a much younger woman, a Greek (famously chosen on the basis of a photograph and 'Homeric spirit'). Ackroyd's fictional archaeologist is named Heinrich Obermann, and he has all of Schliemann's flaws and more: he's avaricious, racist, an intellectual fraud and a bigamist. He goes by his gut feeling rather than solid archaeological methodology, and he refuses to accept evidence which contradicts his own opinions.

We see him from his wife Sophia's perspective: she doesn't love him, but is determined to make the marriage work. She finds purpose in the excavation of the ancient city, and colludes with Obermann's deceits -- until she discovers that he has lied to her, as well as to everyone else.

I liked the way that Ackroyd wove in some of Schliemann's tall stories (smuggling Priam's treasure away from the site in Sophia's shawl) and I found Obermann's fate rather more satisfactory than Schliemann's: hubris and nemesis.

[Pascale · Rating 2 out of 5]

When I first started reading Ackroyd well over a decade ago I was very impressed. This particular novel is an easy, quick read, but rather bland and pointless. Loosely based on the story of Heinrich Schliemann, it starts with his wedding to a young Greek woman, Sophia, who becomes an eager helpmate in his excavation of Troy. Although she soon identifies discrepancies in Obermann (Schliemann)'s account of his life, she is enthused by his mercurial personality and infectious passion for his self-imposed task. What tips the scales is her discovery that he is still looking after his demented first wife, A Russian woman whom he may not even have been able, or willing, to divorce before marrying her. Obermann is both very shrewd and hopelessly candid, unscrupulous and upfront about his bodily functions. Unfiltered, in today's parlance. Eventually the arrival of Alexander Thornton, a young British archeologist, threatens to expose Obermann's shenanigans. The 2 men clash over the significance of some clay tablets, and Obermann takes advantage of a thunder storm to get rid of his rival in love and in learning. The young couple elope to Constantinople, but before they can board their ship, Obermann shows up and is accidentally killed by his own son's horse. It's a ok yarn, but eminently forgettable.

[Alejandro Bolanos · Rating 3 out of 5]

The Fall of Troy por Peter Ackroyd
Pues me ha gustado, es una novela histórica basada en el arqueólogo aficionado Heinrich Schliemann, quien fue el que descubrió Troya en la actual Turquía. Es una novela que no está tan apegada a la realidad pero se basa en los trabajos en lo que es la planicie de Hisarlik que es ahora considerada el lugar donde existió Troya. Su trabajo estaba basado en la Iliada de Homero que hasta ese momento se creía solo una leyenda y que no tenía sustento histórico, la realidad es que si terquedad llevó al descubrimiento de la ciudad y a considerar que la Iliada tiene sustento histórico. Lo pinta como un hombre terrible y tal vez lo fue y sobre todo en algunas pinceladas nos muestra como es que su trabajo sin mucho orden y precisión destruyó mucho de lo que existía en las ruinas, Troya es un asentamiento humano donde se cree que hay varias ciudades que han existido en los últimos milenios en el mismo lugar. Hoy se cree que lo que el consideraba la Troya de Homero es en realidad una ciudad que existió en el mismo lugar cientos de años antes y que en su afán por descubrir esa Troya mítica destruyó todos los restos de esa ciudad mítica, en fin. Me gustó!