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Pif Magazine
Pif Magazine |
Sheba: Through the Desert in Search of the Legendary Queen Sheba: Through the Desert in Search of the Legendary Queen : Page 1, 2 Now imagine a story from that ancient world. The story originates somewhere: an actual event to be commemorated, or a monarch to be glorified, or a moral or political lesson to be imparted. The story has its period of currency, when everybody in the region knows it and knows what it signifies. It spreads through cultures, and through time, until it seems that everybody in the world has heard it, or some version of it, but to them it's just a story, free of signifiers. As more time passes, nobody remembers what the story originally referred to, but the characters or the events contained in the story have become part of the world's collective wealth. New storytellers will spin ever more fabulous tales with these characters or these episodes, borrowing elements of the original to teach new lessons, and now we've entered the realm of myth. A few more centuries go by, and perhaps we don't hear these stories much anymore. If a character is mentioned, it's in a context with absolutely no relation to that first story. Ultimately, some curious scholar or historian might try to reconnect the dots, to trace back to the original story and what it might have meant, but they really can't do much more than dig and guess. And meanwhile, there are others who have claimed parts of this story as their own, who will try to defend it against inquisitive interlopers Sheba: Through the Desert in Search of the Legendary Queen is perfectly situated in this conjunction between the fates of old stories and old structures. And on the whole, it's great good fun. Starting with the biblical reference to the Queen of Sheba's visit to the court of Solomon, Clapp hunts for this queen in ancient narratives and ancient civilizations, on a quest for both the origin of her story, and for insight into how the tale has rippled through history. He is at least as interested in a good yarn as he is in archaeology, tracking down pop cultural references to the Queen of Sheba (nineteenth century operas, an early silent film) with as much enthusiasm as he has searching Arabia's ruins for the historical truth that may underlie her legend. In a work of straight archaeology this might not make much sense — surely a Nevada lead mine called The Queen of Sheba has nothing to do with a three-thousand-year-old queen — but here, where curiosity about Sheba's stories is what fired the hunt for Sheba herself, it's all of a piece. Along the way, Clapp takes his readers for an adventurous jaunt that encompasses medieval mystics, the rise and fall of ancient Arabia, the founding of the Ethiopian monarchy, and the role King Solomon played — if there was a King Solomon — in the lucrative spice trade that made frankincense and myrrh such valuable gifts. Clapp's writing is eminently accessible and at the same time impressively erudite; he makes what could be a dry account of his visits to archaeological sites as exciting and entertaining as the Arabian Nights, and I now know more than I ever thought I would about Arabian engineering and trade routes circa 1500 BC, and I must say it's fascinating stuff. Sheba is the sort of book that simultaneously makes you want to set out for the desert, and grateful you're not in the desert. Clapp writes with gusto about the wonders concealed by Arabia's sands, and with just as much gusto about 140-degree heat, dining on locusts, and bad men with guns. I can't help but suspect that he gets something of a bang out of the dangers he encounters, and that he's tickled by the image of himself as Indiana Jones (a comparison made by a Los Angeles Times reviewer in response to his last book, and quoted on Sheba'sback cover). Indeed, I would even guess that Clapp would be disappointed if he didn't get to face any peril — that archaeology in France, for example, would strike him as being insufficiently adventurous. Yet I find myself thinking, bless him, I hope he writes more. He's turned biblical exegesis into page-turning armchair travel. More power to him. Tell us what you think. Email talkback@pifmagazine.com Want Pif to review your book? Emily Banner is a co-founder of Inkberry, a nonprofit literary center in the Berkshires. She lives in western Massachusetts. |
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