John Mandeville's writing of 1370 proved pivotal in the flurry of exploration that followed in the wake of 1492. His assertion that the world was a globe (flying in the face of accepted dogma) and that it was possible to travel by sea to the Far East, was THE incentive that drove the expeditions of hundreds of explorers and merchants.
Later, the book was ridiculed as hokum, but Giles Milton felt there were enough grains of truth in the manuscript to warrant more research, which he does in his usual comprehensive manner.

The result is a very readable unravelling of the mystery, shrouded as it was by the interfering pens of earlier 'editors'. Given the extent of the tinkering, we may never know the truth behind the 'Travels', but Mr milton uncovers enough evidence to show that Mandeville almost certainly DID travel to the Levant, but casts doubt on the veracity of his claims to have travelled to the Far East. The latter is understandably not well-researched, given the ambiguity of the literary data and lack of physical evidence, so only 4 stars.

However, in South America 300 years later, Drake describes strange people with almost identical characteristics to Mandeville's 'imaginary' creatures - are we being swayed by modern interpretations of medieval descriptions? We may never know, but this uncertainty and the nuggets of truth unearthed by Mr Milton's research in the Middle-East prompted me to order a copy of the 'Travels', so I could judge for myself whether Mandeville was an early Munchausen or a true visionary.

A worthwhile read to stimulate your imagination.

Giles Milton, a professional writer/journalist, sets out to retrace the voyages of the legendary fourteenth-century writer, Sir John Mandeville. His reasons for doing so are manifold: 1) to gather material for a book; 2) a personal religious experience; 3) to rehabilitate the good name of Mandeville; and 4) frankly, to enjoy himself hugely. The first and fourth can be judged successful. The second only Milton knows. The third reason is most interesting.

Just who was Sir John Mandeville? Simply put: the alleged author of one of the most famous late-middle-age/early-renaissance books. Although the book is still in print (see the reviews of the Penguin Classic, The Travels of Sir John Mandeville), it is now relative obscure. From about 1350 to 1800 it was one of the most influential books, rivaling the Bible and Euclid's Elements. Then about 1800 scholars began to question whether "Mandeville wrote Mandeville," or indeed whether there ever was such a man. Having seen similar arguments on whether Shakespeare really wrote Shakespeare, I started out viewing the Mandeville controversy with a jaundiced eye. Now I must admit the case against Mandeville is much stronger - stronger, but not conclusive either. This is where Giles Milton can be of help.

Giles Milton seems to have convinced himself that: 1) yes, Sir John Mandeville really did exist, 2) yes, he did write the book, 3) he may or may not have actually undertaken the voyages of the first part of the book, but certainly not those of the second part, and 4) Mandeville lied a lot, but it was for a most worthy cause. Are Milton's arguments for a real John Mandeville convincing? Only partially. His principal evidence is a barely legible inscription (an epitaph) in St. Albans Abbey. But here some rigorous scholarship is missing: What is the earliest mention of this epitaph? To whom is it attributed? Have other scholars noted the inscription, and at what times? What are their opinions regarding its authenticity?

Milton's book is entitled, The Riddle and The Knight. The knight is Sir John, but what is the riddle? Namely this: why the second half of the book is so different from the first? The first part is more or less believable, the second utterly fantastic. Milton's proposes that the entire Travels is an allegory on religious intolerance. The second half is intended to show that creatures, appearing to us quite monstrous, can nevertheless be pious. Conclusion: we must not judge "savages" - too harshly. Hmm...maybe, just maybe.

Gems in Milton's book are some woodcuts taken from a 1481 edition of Mandeville. (Penguin should have included these.) These by themselves make getting the bookworthwhile. But in addition there is plenty of food for thought. Read the book and form your own opinions.

This book was quite a bit different to the other two books of Milton's that I have read so far (the others being 'Nathaniel's Nutmeg', and 'Big Chief Elizabeth') - and I have to say it was rather unexpected. For this, his first book is really a travellers tale cum history. I think the surprise of this rather threw me at first. I didn't really expect or want to read a travel book - and yet as I continued reading I got to enjoy it, and then got thoroughly drawn into it - for really this is a historical mystery more than anything, and Milton knows how to hold us all in glorious suspense.

Milton traces the origins, sources and remaining evidence of Englishman Sir John Mandeville's book of travels written in the middle of the fourteenth century. Mandeville purports to have visited a great many places through the middle east on a pilgrimage (from Turkey, through Syria to Jerusalem). In the second part of his book he talks of the travels which took him further through India, China and into the Southern Asian Islands. This in an age when circumnavigation of the globe was thought impossible and only a few people had ventured as far as China. It was a phenomenal claim and Mandeville's book formed the basis for a great many of the later explorers travels - such as Sir Walter Raleigh.

Milton states many of the problems he had researching Mandeville's trip right from the start. One of the biggest of these is that Mandeville never described any of the routes he took, only the places he arrived at - and then great wodges of the descriptions he used for these places were cobbled together from other printed sources which he would have had access too at the time. So Milton set out to visit the places which Mandeville had been, to look for proof that he had been there - a hard task to undertake some 650 years later. Milton interseperses his description of the modern journey with tracts from Mandeville as well as other supporting evidence discovered in archives in Britain. It is all woven together into an incredibly compelling travel mystery.

Did John Mandeville really make these journeys?, Did he even really exist? And if he did where on earth did he die? Milton answers all these questions, and unlike Sir John Mandeville, Milton knows that the satisfaction of travel is in the journey - not just the destination.

This is a fourteenth-century travel book telling us of the English "Sir" John Mandeville's real or imagined adventures in the East. The first part deals with the land of Egypt and the second with "the lands beyond" -. But did he actually ever leave England?? Did this Knighted author actually exist? Was he French? We'll never know, but this volume is a thorough compendium of medieval mythic lore, which he artfully blends in collage-form (very much in the fashion of the allegedly "post-modern" writing), which would be a great success throughout Europe for centuries to come. One of these pleased readers would be Christopher Columbus, who here fed his imagination on the passion for distant travels!

Together with this book I recommend the popular VOYAGE OF ST BRENDAN by Benedeiz, an earlier, twelfth-century text about the adventures of an Irish monk who never got tired of looking for fantastic islands on his tiny boat. The anarchy and imagination of the Middle-Ages always seems more fantastic when we read the original medieval authors directly.

This is a medieval best-seller for all.

Sir John Mandeville was an Early-Renaissance writer of travel tales, similar in style and content to his near-contemporary, Marco Polo. But history has judged the two quite differently: whereas Marco Polo has become a household word, synonymous with bold explorations, Mandeville has been largely forgotten. It was not always so.

During his lifetime, and for a couple of centuries afterwards, Mandeville was the more famous of the two. A copy of Mandeville - but not Polo - was in the possession of Leonardo da Vinci. More telling, about 300 manuscripts (hand-written copies) of Mandeville survive, compared to only about 70 of Polo.

So what accounts for these reversals of fortune?

Mandeville wrote his book about 1356, or shortly thereafter. Its original tile was "The Voyages and Travels of Sir John Mandeville, Knight," but is now generally known as "Travels of Sir John Mandeville." Polo's book, originally titled, "Descriptions of the World," came out about 1300. Whereas Mandeville wrote his book himself, Polo used the services of a professional writer, Rusticello, who based the book on Polo's notebooks. (Mandeville is the better written.) Standards of what constitutes a historical/geographic work have greatly changed since Polo/Mandeville's time. Both books -- but especially Mandeville -- contain a fascinating pastiche of facts (often distorted), impressions, opinions - and utterly fantastic claims. Reading these today, one is left with the bewildering impression of a farrago of National Geographic and supermarket tabloids.

As the Age of Exploration unfolded, reliable geographic, historic, and economic data came to be more highly valued than fantastic tales. Since Polo's book was found to be the more reliable its reputation increased. Mandeville, on the other hand, came to be seen as a "teller of tall tales," a kind of Baron Munchhausen.

What about their relevance today? Well, except in a narrow historical context, I would say that Mandeville is definitely the more interesting. If Mandeville lacks historic and geographic accuracy, he more than makes up for this by his insight into what fascinates mankind - both then and now. As noted, a considerable portion of Mandeville's can be fairly equated to today's Elvis sightings, or the woman from Ohio who has the spaceman's baby. We are too immersed in our contemporary world to clearly see what is behind such phenomena; looking back at Mandeville's world our vision improves. I give a single example:

Mandeville tells of a society in which women often have snakes in their ...uh...private parts. In order to protect themselves their men hire the services of professional "testers." As absurd as this sounds, could Mandeville actually be describing some venereal disease?

One last thought: could the various human monstrosities described by Mandeville (people with dog's heads, etc.) have modern counterparts in television's Star Trek?

The Penguin book would be improved by additional maps and illustrations -- unfortunately this would increase the cost.

A fairly irritating book about an important subject, this book is loaded with a collection of traveling non-sequiturs that are collated and vaguely related to findings of the author as he makes the same trip that Sir John Mandeville made starting in 1322. Mandeville wrote a book after his 34-year journey called The Travels that influenced many important people after him. For example, Christopher Columbus, influenced by Mandeville's book, proposed his voyage to the new world to Queen Isabella of Spain and was turned down. Months later, after Isabella had read Mandeville's book she was approached again by Columbus and she changed her mind, funding his history making voyage to the new world. Mandeville's book was used by many others as a reference for hundreds of years until somewhere in the 1800's when he and his book were discredited and Mandeville generally became known as a fraud, never having actually traveled to the places he claimed to have visited. In The Riddle and the Knight, Milton's trip to all the same places starts off with the promise of getting to the bottom of a very old debate, "Did Mandeville actually take the trip he claimed he took? By actually making the same trip today, what could be found to either prove or disprove Mandeville once and for all?" That's a great idea but the writer got bogged down including almost everything that happened to him on his 20th century journey whether it added to proving Mandeville's journey or not. On page 189, Milton is staying in a monastery in Egypt and two U.N. peacekeepers stumble upon the ancient institution. One of them is an American who is remarkably like Gomer Pyle. Halfway through this jewel, I paused and thought, "This episode will have no bearing whatsoever on what Milton is doing with his story." True enough, it didn't. It was simply a loud and colorful, intrusion into the quiet life of the monastery Milton was staying in. "What the heck. Let's put it in the book." Milton was fair in citing the frequent number of times that almost every ancient author would plagiarize one another and that Mandeville was not much different. Unlike the book's title, The Riddle and the Knight, any references to a riddle somewhere in the book were sparse, casual, and hugely unfulfilled. The author also missed the opportunity to properly observe that all early discoverers and travelers were at some point liars who all knew that keeping the attention of those who listened would sometimes require mention of the strange men foreign lands who have no heads, or really giant women from another distant land or strange elixirs that have remarkable healing powers. It's all part of giving the audience what they want or need to hear, from P.T. Barnum to Ripley's Believe It Or Not to the nightly news.

This book wears two faces: 1) a travel book, and 2) an attempt at some serious historical research. The author, Giles Milton, a professional writer/journalist, sets out to retrace the path of the legendary fourteenth-century traveler and writer, Sir John Mandeville. Milton's ostensible goal is to rehabilitate Mandeville's controversial reputation.

Sir John Mandeville was the alleged author of one of the most famous early-renaissance books. From about 1350 to 1800, his "The Travels of Sir John Mandeville" was incredibly popular and influential, rivaling the Bible and Euclid's Elements. Then, about 1800, scholars began to question whether "Mandeville wrote Mandeville" -- or indeed whether there ever was such a man. His book is still in print (see Penguin Classic, The Travels of Sir John Mandeville), and is even making something of a comeback,

Mr. Milton is a good writer, and as a travel book his work is quite entertaining. Minimally, it gives us a chance to compare the Middle-East-now with what it was in Mandeville's time. For those who like travel books, that might be enough to make the book worthwhile. Some woodcuts taken from a 1481 edition of Mandeville are real gems. (Penguin should have included these.)

But as serious historical research I have problems with the book. Mr. Milton tries to convince us that Sir John Mandeville really did exist. The historical evidence he presents is weak, at best, and consists chiefly of a barely legible epitaph in St. Albans Abbey. But even here some rigorous scholarship is missing. (What is the earliest mention of this epitaph? To whom is it attributed? Have other scholars noted the inscription, and at what dates? What are their opinions regarding its authenticity?)

My overall impression is that Mr. Milton was not able to gather the evidence he was hoping for, and so had to temporize. I was particularly disappointed that the second edition does not address any of these weaknesses.

A fascinating read! The satisfaction comes not in finally putting to rest the historical debate whether Sir John Mandeville ever made his epic pilgrimmage but rather in going along with Milton as he makes his journey. Settle into your favorite armchair and take off on a most engaging travel narrative. Along the way you will decide for yourself the truth about Sir John's narrative, which is exactly the way all such quests should be pursued.