My rating: 3 of 5 stars
This morning, with spring coming on and a little warm egg yolk dripping onto crispy toast and a mug of hot coffee, I read about thin, determined boys shivering in Mongolia and refusing to die. I felt pretty spoiled, let me tell you. Iggulden's a good enough story teller to bring you into the scene, make you feel you could ride and shoot, be a Khan if the chance came. Vanity! Yet exciting. My blood runs hot enough to be engaged.
I've read one of these before, so I expected it to go down easy like a light beer, perhaps unsophisticated, but refreshing and good for you. That was about exactly right. Not a complicated book and more fiction than historical, but it's true enough! There was just such a man, real, and he lived an exceptional life, and if it was not exactly as told, then near enough as makes no difference. I enjoyed this a lot, admittedly more than I expected.
For a comparison, those who know Bernard Cornwell's series of infantryman Sharpe will not be disappointed: they're very similar authors.
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