The Race for Timbuktu is an immensely readable history of the exploration of Western Africa in the early nineteenth century. Westerners are generally unaware of the civilizations that existed prior to Africa being ripped apart by imperialism. The explorers were driven by curiosity, the quest for fame and wealth, and a few seeking to end the slave trade. Kryza’s storytelling is compelling passed on narratives left by those explorers and would make a fantastic film. ( )

History is brought to life in this little gem of non-fiction about British and Scottish explorers of the early 19th century. It follows the history of attempts to locate Timbuktu and efforts to map the route of the Niger river. Goals included putting an end to slave trading and establishing new commerce. The book could also have been entitled “1001 Ways to Die a Painful Death.” Turns out, the “best” routes to get to Timbuktu were traveling through the up-to-150-degree heat and vast rocky expanse of the Sahara Desert or crossing swamps and dense forests with hordes of disease-carrying mosquitos from the coast. Death could (and did) come from numerous foul means: dysentery, malaria, dehydration, marauding bandits, territorial tribes, fanatic Islamists, and a variety of potentially lethal fevers.

The first several chapters describe previous journeys into the African interior, setting the stage for the rivalry to come, including a couple in which:

“England’s best and brightest had been wiped out in both of the expeditions (65 percent of the British contingent of 117 men died in Africa, while many of the rest were terminally ill when they landed in England).”

The middle chapters arrive at the focus of the book, primarily about two men striving to become the first to reach Timbuktu, and claim not only the prize of 10,000 francs offered by the French Geographical Society, but the accolades and prestige which would inevitably follow such an achievement:

“Until that August day in 1826 when the first white man in three centuries is known to have walked through the gates of Timbuktu, some dozen European explorers tried to find the city. For two of these, Captain Hugh Clapperton and Major Alexander Gordon Laing, winning this prize became an intensely personal competition, crossing that thin line that separates a passionate but realizable dream from an irrational and dangerous obsession.”

These chapters are filled with striking descriptions and colorful, larger-than-life people. Not simply conveying a historical record, the author inserts vivid narrative that conjures an image of place:

“Night fell quickly in the Tripolitanian desert. The sky overhead became rusty; the setting sun dimmed. As the light failed, the sky passed from copper to bronze but remained metallic as the sun’s embers were overtaken by the moon’s milky shimmer.”

This book is filled with adventure, courage, intrigue, politics, betrayal, and memorable people. The author is adept at conveying the personal characteristics of the individuals, both the admirable and the unpleasant. There’s even a love story embedded in the pages, which adds poignancy and human impact to those left behind.

The final few chapters recount the aftermath. These chapters, while necessary, were not quite as riveting as those in the heart of the book. Recommended to readers interested in exploration, African/British history, or true-life adventures of a bygone era. ( )

Fantastically good read, although not as expected. The race to "claim" Timbuktu by White Europeans. Early 1800's Each step is retraced in agonizing detail. Sandstorms, bad food, worse water Minute descriptions of drinking water that had had marinating camels in it(not that it would have mattered if the camels were alive or dead). In parallel with each explorers footstep, we are told of the political ministrations Great Britain versus the French versus the United States (the war of 1812 is less that 2 decades old) versus various African and Arab leaders that come and go and change sides with an ease that seems incredulous . Enjoyable and educational read although it drags a bit during the political shenanigans. ( )

This is a story of European, specifically British, exploration of the African interior in the late 18th and early 19th century. At one point the book shows a 1829 map of Africa, and it was striking how much white space was on it. The Moon was better mapped--because you could study the Moon with a telescope--trying to get to the interior of Africa if you were a European was a different story. (The slave trade wasn’t conducted by Europeans in the African interior but by Africans themselves. Europeans primarily only hugged the coasts of Sub-Saharan Africa until late in the 19th century.) The Race for Timbuktu is a story of exploration and cultures colliding worthy of Star Trek--only without the Prime Directive and not just the Red Shirts drop like flies.

I thought the book did well on several levels. The explorers themselves come across as distinct personalities. Kryza quotes one historian of African exploration in the 1960s as saying that: “It remains difficult, in the checkered history of geographical discovery, to find a more odious man than Dixon Denham.” Having read Hochschild’s King Leopold’s Ghost, I would have thought it was hard to beat Henry Morton Stanley on that score, but I think Denham as portrayed by Kryza at least comes close. Other explorers such as Mongo Park, Lyons, Clapperton and Laing were more sympathetic, but just as interesting. I was also fascinated by the delineation of the connections between the loss of the American colonies, the push to end the slave trade, and how it drove British expeditions to find the lost city of Timbuktu and trace the course of the Niger River. The author does a great job in conveying what a barrier the Sahara Desert on one side and the tropical diseases of the Congo River basin on the other side presented and how they isolated Timbuktu.

Timbuktu, in what is today Mali is on the banks of the Niger and the southern border of the Sahara was a legendary city where “camel met canoe.” It was “likely founded around 1100” and at one point had a population reaching 100,000, was in its heyday fabulously wealthy, and had boasted an important center of Islamic scholarship in Medieval times. If I had one disappointment, it is we actually don’t spend much time or space on Timbuktu itself--this is a book about the journey, not the destination. Kryza claims he is “no scholar, and this is not a scholarly book” but he does include a bibliography and extensive notes on each chapter pointing to his sources. The book was entertaining, but felt solid in its facts. ( )

Long before the mid-Victorian exploration for the sources of the Nile began in earnest, a similar-if smaller scale-drive occurred to fabled Timbuktu, the capital of lost empire of Mali and to discover the course and outlet of the river Niger. This legendary city loomed large in the imagination of the west since the time of Mansa Musa’s pilgrimage to Mecca in 1324, soon after which rumors of the king’s vast wealth quickly spread to Europe. In the 1500s a Moor by the name of Leo Africanus penned a popular account of Africa, in which he described his trip to the city. There things stood until the late Georgian age. At this point, Frank Kryza’s The Race for Timbuktu picks up the account.

The driving force behind all of this was the African Association, a loose grouping of businessmen and nobility who were interested in geographical questions, the possibilities of increased trade, and the end of slavery. Their leader and driving force for this period was Sir Joseph Banks, and it was through their instigation that our subjects were set on their way. This was a common thread throughout the “silver age” of exploration, with groups like this forming expeditions to Africa, central Asia, and finally to Antarctica. That these were generally not governmental affairs, or were only loosely construed as such is a product of a more liberal age. One can imagine that similar projects, if conducted today, would more resemble the bureaucratic nightmare that is NASA than the rough-and-tumble expeditions of Clapperton, or, say Burton or Scott.

The book is best when Kryza is describing the personalities of the main people involved, the rival explorers, Capt. Hugh Clapperton & Maj. Alexander Gordon Laing and the British Consul in Tripoli, Col. Hamner Warrington. The journey of Clapperton was vexed by the inclusion of a young Lieutenant, Dixon Denham, who proved to be out of central casting as an arrogant Brit. The two quarreled over command and at points were not on speaking terms, though they were the only Europeans for thousands of miles. Laing is a bit more of a mystery, but Kryza’s account paints him as a typical adventurous young officer. To me the most interesting man profiled was the Consul, Warrington. The nuts and bolts of the British Empire were men like Warrington-tough, forceful individuals who operated what seem like private fiefdoms for decades. Tripolitania was never part of the British Empire, but Warrington was none-the-less one of the most powerful men in the country. The Bashaws usually showing him more respect than they did to their nominal sovereigns in far-away Constantinople.

The accounts of the journeys are decidedly exciting, but the real gems are the insight gained from the words of the locals. Sultan Mohammed Bello of Sokoto was shocked when Clapperton informed him that the British no longer kept slaves (which was not true in 1822 when this meeting took place), but was even more shocked and exclaimed “God is great” when Clapperton said that servants were paid regular wages. The Sultan was shrewder, as he later told Clapperton that “the English had taken possession of India first going by ones and twos, until they got strong enough to seize upon the whole country” (as Kryza says, the Sultan was right). When Laing’s personal papers were later the subject of an imbroglio between the French and British at Tripoli, the Bashaw said “when elephants chose to dance, the wise man gets out of their way.”

The actual arrival at Timbuktu of Laing is a bit of an anti-climax, as the city was long past its prime and was just a dusty backwater town. His death, under mysterious circumstances would trouble Warrington no end for years. Clapperton was more concerned with the problem of the Niger Delta, and following his death, his companion; Richard Lander returned and solved that mystery once and for all.

Kryza’s account suffers from a dearth of maps and an occasional lack of exposition on the locals. I would have liked just a bit more background on the Tuareg and Bournu. The inclusions of beautiful illustrations made by Denham upon his return were a welcome addition. All in all, a fun read. ( )