This book has no insights into the history and talks little of the collapse of civilization.
It has little to do with the title. It sounds like a continual recitation of silly ancient names, like reading all the begats in the Bible. It recounts some facts but does little to give a historical perspective.
Andy Caploe is a very professional narrator with a well modulated speaking voice, but he is not a good choice for this book. He would be better suited selling reverse mortgages to seniors or counting down the pop top 40. His tone is overacted interestedness, which does not come across as genuine and sounds like he is reading the book to 3rd graders.
This book makes you realize that a good historian does more than tell what happened. This could have been a good book in the hands of a better historian.
I would like a refund, please.
Bill Bryson has written some amazing stuff (Summer of 1927) but this isn't it, particularly I Am a Stranger Here Myself. These are mundane tiresome essays following the same boring formula: there is some routine task, such as filling in a tax form, that has bewildering jargon that Bill can't understand, leading to some absurd result. Har Har Har.
I am still a fan of Bill Bryson, but this is one that could have used some quality control.
Bill has a kind of John Malkovich tone, with a slight British accent. It's an OK performance and nice that the author bothered to perform it himself (probably to save money).
Disappointment. Not everything an artist writes is brilliant.
Maybe if I were hospitalized or incarcerated and had nothing else to do. It's certainly one of the great novels but jeez is it long.
The character sketches of Napoleon are so powerful and lifelike, I really felt what it was like to be in the presence of the brilliant Napoleon Bonaparte.
It should have been explained to the narrator that this novel is Russian, not British. The Russian soldiers and peasants have cockney accents, the Russian nobility sound like they are from the English countryside. The male characters sound like British Mr. Magoo's, the female characters sound like breathy ingénues. The narrator is very effeminate, British and langorous, but a competent reader. It takes a while to get past the narration. This is nevertheless a great novel and well worth reading.
Not a chance. This was one longgggg longggg book 60 hours long. That's 2 hours a day every day for a month.
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