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The Collector of Worlds: A Novel of Sir Richard Francis Burton

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Troyanov's novel is an entertaining read. The incredible scope of Burton's life makes that almost a given. I do not recommend this novel to anybody who has read Burton's own accounts of his journeys in life, as they are spellbinding and unbeatable coming from the source himself. If you're willing to spend the time, Edward Rice's biography of Captain Sir Richard Francis Burton is the best of many good ones. Fawn Brodie's The Devil Drives is also good, if too dependent on psychoanalysis. But for a survey of Burton's remarkable life, The Collector of Worlds is both informative and good fun.

This novel is about three episodes in the life of that fascinating 19th century character, Sir Richard Burton (1821 to 1890), soldier, amateur anthropologist and explorer.

The first, which takes up about half the book, covers his life as a soldier in India (1842 to 1859). Thoroughly bored by the routine and by the narrow vision of his fellow officers, he first began learning several of India's native languages, and then took pride in his ability to disguise himself as an Indian so as to be able to mingle with them and get closer to understanding their way of life. Initially, when he was stationed in Baroda, he studied the Hindus; but when he was moved to Muslim Sindh, he became particularly fascinated by Islam. The conqueror of Sindh, General Napier, got Burton to use his skills to gather intelligence for him; but Burton thought the General's wish to impose British values on the natives wrong and counter-productive. This made him unreliable in the opinion of the army and would block any promotion. He left India and the Army.

The second part covers his pilgrimage to Mecca in 1853, disguised as Sheikh Abdullah and having made himself so perfectly familiar with the theory and practice of Islam that nobody penetrated his disguise; and the Muslim world was duly shocked when on his return he published an account of this experience. This part of the story gives a vivid account of such a pilgrimage - the dangers of attacks by plunderers, the fulfilment when the goal has been finally reached, but also the sickness and death that was the fate of so many exhausted pilgrims.

The third part covers Burton's expedition of 1857, together with his colleague and rival, John Hanning Speke, to find the source of the Nile. Again the many ordeals of the expedition are well described: the terrible terrain, frightful diseases, tribute to be paid to the chief of every village through which they passed, encounters with brutal Arab slavers.

The narrative alternates, in part 1 with comments of his Hindu servant; in part 2, rather tediously, with the attempts of Ottoman officials to find out, after Burton had published his account of his journey to Mecca, what his purpose might have been: they suspect it was gathering information for Britain's imperialist purposes; and in part 3, with an African guide who recounts to his friends his memories of the expedition, and who is the most interesting of the three. This device enables Troyanov to show Burton as he might have been seen by others, but I found it somewhat distracting, especially as you have to read some of the dialogue between several characters more than once to make sure who is speaking.

Altogether, I was a little disappointed by this book. Burton's personality did not come out as vividly as I think it might have done; the prose is sometimes striking, but at others it goes, I think, a little over the top (the book has been translated from the German by William Hobson); and the three episodes represent only a fraction (though a large one) of Burton's life. After a decent interval, I may return to him again, this time through a proper biography like Fawn Brodie's The Devil Drives.

Fueled by an insatiable thirst for knowledge, adventure, and exploration, Richard Burton (1821 - 1870) cut a deep, wide swath across the Victorian British Empire, leaving reams of his own writings in his wake.

He spoke somewhere in the neighborhood of 29 languages. He traveled throughout India and the Middle East and sought the source of the Nile in Africa, nearly losing his life on numerous occasions. Renowned for his interest in local sexual proclivities, he translated the Kama Sutra and measured the sexual organs of men through whose lands he passed.

Given all this, and lots more, you would expect there to be cascades of colorful, swashbuckling fiction based on this outsize character. But there's hardly a trickle. There are lots of biographies fomenting lots of controversy, but little fiction and what there is seldom centers on Burton himself.

Bulgarian writer Troyanov, who grew up in Germany and Africa, and has traveled in many of the same places Burton did, sets out to remedy that lack. His big, vivid, thoughtful novel focuses on three periods in Burton's life: his early years as a young soldier in India; his famous pilgrimage to Mecca as an Indian Muslim on the sacred Hajj; and his first search for the Nile's source with partner John Speke.

The first and longest section introduces a young, eager, ignorant British officer to vibrant, teeming, mystical, squalid India. Burton spurns the cloistered existence of his fellow officers to immerse himself in the country. He explores the city's hidden byways and engages a teacher to learn the language and culture. But it's not enough.

"As long as he was a foreigner, he would learn almost nothing. There was only one solution; it appealed to him immediately. He would cast off his foreignness instead of waiting for it to be taken from him. He would act as if he were one of them."

Burton's third-person viewpoint alternates with his former head servant's narrative. Naukaram, as hidebound a Hindu as Burton's fellow officers are Victorian Imperialists, organized Burton's household, brought him a beguiling, eye-opening lover, and even followed him to England, only to be cast out without a proper reference after eight years' service.

"That is the trouble with these people," Burton fumes, sending Naukaram away. "They were incapable of assuming any personal responsibility." Burton may have soaked up India like a sponge, but he remains a Brit to the core.

This first section, with its two voices, its witty prose and rich atmosphere, transports you to the blowing sand, baking heat and vast ambition of India and young Burton. The second section sets you squarely back in your chair.

In this section the Muslim Turkish Caliphate investigates Burton's account of the Hajj he completed two years earlier, officials questioning witnesses and companions Burton mentioned in his book. Between these reports the narrative
slips back into the imagining of Burton's private moments - as a doctor examining a woman, under fire by bandits, in the midst of mob madness during a ritual stoning of the devil. Despite these disjointed periods of relief the interrogations grow tedious as well as paranoid and unreliable.

The final section returns to the shape of the first, with the strong, lively voice of a storyteller - a freed slave who accompanied the expedition as a guide - in counterpoint to the author's view of Burton's inner musings. Again the prose is rich with the atmosphere of the strange and exotic.

"He stands in the river, murky water up to his hips, and every time he puts his arm beneath the surface, he touches something slimy. It's not unpleasant, as a matter of fact, just unfamiliar. There's mud wherever they put their feet, a darkness they have to wade through, the queasiness rising in their throats, as it sucks at their legs. He stands in the water and wonders if they made a mistake when they were standing by what was at the time a broad, gently flowing river, debating where they should cross. Perhaps it would have been better back there: the water was deeper it's true, but at least they could see the other bank."

The trip is beset by such uncertainties and by unpredictable tribes, illness, accident, desertion and more. Speke and Burton, very different personalities, are barely civil by the end of the trip and neither trusts the other.

Troyanov's novel leaves Burton (jumping ahead to his deathbed, which frames the novel) an enigma, unknowable even - maybe especially - to himself, and no less fascinating for that. While examining this complex, adventurous man of his times, Troyanov touches on the issues of Empire, particularly the legacy of slavery and dominance, the shapes of the land and the gulf between cultures.

Troyanov's prose is as cerebral as it is visual. He brings the man to life yet leaves him a mystery and leaves the reader with a sense of wonder and enlightenment. This is a fine, stimulating, well-organized and beautifully written book, but the quintessential swashbuckling Burton novel still remains to be written.

In a note prior to beginning his novel, Iliya Troyanov makes the following disclaimer about THE COLLECTOR OF WORLDS: "Despite occasional direct quotations, its characters and plot are predominately the product of the author's imagination and make no claim to be measured against biographical fact." Rather then focus on Richard Burton, for some reason Troyanov let's us see him through the eyes of minor characters.

Troyanov divides the novel into three parts: Burton's exploits in India as a young army captain; his infiltration of Medina and Mecca; and his efforts to find the source of the Nile.

For the first segment, Troynanov relies on the point of view of Naukaram, Burton's servant. Most of this is about Naukaram's efforts to get a letter of recommendation written by a lahiya (a sort of scribe) by telling him of his time with Burton after he had been dismissed for getting into a fight with a chef. As a result we don't learn much about Burton's exploits as a spy. However, we do see him begin to wear Arab clothes and begin to learn several languages.

The second part, Burton's penetration of the Moslem holy cities, mostly deals with various Islamic officials investigating how Burton was able to overcome their defenses. We hear from The Sharif of Mecca among others. They interrogate the innocent pilgrims who accompanied Burton on his Hajj. Most have nothing but good things to say about Burton. Burton assumes the disguise of a Persian doctor and dervisher who likes to drink. This doesn't surprise the pilgrims much. Meanwhile we're introduced to some curious Islamic activities, such as circumambulating anti-clockwise the Kaaba, the supposed Rock of Abraham, seven times along with hundreds of other pilgrims who try to touch it.

The third segment deals with Burton's attempt to find the source of the Nile. Burton sets out, with fellow explorer John Speke, on a caravan led by African guide and former slave, Sidi Mubarek Bombay, to find the two mysterious lakes, one of which Speke names Lake Victoria. Burton is sick with malaria most to the time. As a result, Speke gets the jump on him with the help of Bombay. Bombay likes to tell stories. Unfortunately his wife has heard most of them; their humorous interaction is the highlight of this part of the book.

Troyanov skips over the debate with Speke about the true source of the Nile. He doesn't even cover Speke's suicide (or hunting accident) on the eve of a debate with Burton. Instead we see Burton on his death bed and the priest who administers extreme unction is worried that Burton was not a Christian. Luckily the bishop has a somewhat more magnanimous interpretation of the term.

There is a glossary at the back of the book, but it seemed that every time I looked for a word, it was missing. Personally I think a writer should think twice before he/she choses a historical character as the inspiration for a novel. It almost never works, especially when the author approaches the task from such an oblique angle. The reader would be better off reading Burton's own accounts or THE DEVIL DRIVES by Fawn
Brodie.

Richard Burton led a fascinating life and accomplished remarkable feats. He wrote books about much of what he did. However, I find his writing annoying and less than enlightening. His tone is arrogant, and he spends a major part of his books in judgment and condemnation. Therefore, I was pleased to have access to his incredible life through more palatable eyes.

Troyanov selected three major phases of Burton's life: his first assignment abroad as an officer, his covert trip to Mecca, and his expedition with John Speke to Lake Victoria. By layering normal narrative with others' tales regarding Burton, Troyanov is able to convey Burton's thinking and personality in an offhand way, making no claim to understanding them. Having other characters listen to the accounts of Burton's exploits, his is able to drill deeper, as they ask for clarification or interpretation.

The snippets are placed irregularly, with the parallel accounts occasionally overlapping and occasionally leaving considerable gaps between events. The effect is pleasing, producing a narrative that is both spare and luxuriant, leaving the reader to feel that he is accomplishing something in the interpretation of the tales and omissions.

It is also interesting that he begins with the character that seems to understand Burton best, and ends with the character that is by his own admission mystified by him, creating a sense that Burton was a man that was not likely to be understood by anyone, especially himself.

Sir Richard Francis Burton (1821-90) remains famous today for reporting from Mecca, learning Asian, Arabic and African languages, spying as a native, and "discovering" Lake Victoria as the White Nile's source. His "Kama Sutra" translation made him famous; his widow's burning of his erotica after his death made her infamous. The Bulgarian-born traveller among many of the lands Burton explored, Troyanov wrote this novel in German; William Hobson's translation appears nearly seamless. However, the novel tends towards more matter-of-fact recitals of what Burton and his peers saw, felt, thought, and endured; how much of this tone can be accounted for in the original vs. the rendering we read I cannot ascertain. It does give a somewhat more reticent, oblique perspective than readers of such a bold man may expect given the fictional potential.

The strengths of this tripartite narrative lie in Troyanov's sympathies with his predecessor. He distances himself from the mercurial, enigmatic Burton. He filters his thoughts through a mixture of obliquely observed, indirect first-person and mostly third-person informants who tell their tales about Burton to other listeners. Troyanov layers his story well; the stories add up and cloak Burton in more intrigue.

The first is told by Burton's assistant in India for eight years to a scribe employed to create a letter of reference. Burton here arrives, sours on the military, and makes himself useful as a spy due to his chameleon-like abilities. The relevance of Hindu-Muslim tensions applies well to his age and to ours.

Second, Burton enters Mecca, having been circumcised. Whether or not he's a real Muslim remains vague; Troyanov filters the uncertainty of an Englishman and how far he can claim, inside himself, to have gone native when it comes not to his tongue or his appearance but his soul. Where do his loyalties lie? The efforts of a team of high-level officials overseeing the governance of Mecca, as they interview and then interrogate those with whom Burton acted on his pilgrimage, or "hajj," again testify to the currency of their debate. Who will control the Arab holy cities? Will the Wahhabi take over with their zealotry, or will the Turks practice a more benign rule in league with the Western powers circling closer to the Middle East?

Finally, a rather ingenious if sensible chain of interpreters brings Burton and his sometime partner, then rival John Hanning Speke into the deserts, swamps, and wastelands of Africa. The narrative here enlivens and the teller, Sidi Mubarak Bombay, starts with showing how Burton's relied on a former slave who was taken from East Africa to India, therefore learning Hindustani, and then having Burton use him as a guide to parlay with natives as they-- with a hundred and twenty guards and bearers-- seek the source of the Nile and the mystery of the Mountains of the Moon. There's a softness here and a heightened drama that makes this the most satisfying of the three main sections.

In retrospect, the power of the novel rests more in the old-fashioned tension of its subject and the wonders he sees and the torments he finds. Most of the novel moves well, never flagging given the primary sources must lie in Burton's own work. It's not a flashy work, but a solid, steadily paced read, like its subject, who never turns back from filling in the white places on the map, much as this determination confounds everyone around him, no matter where he goes and whose persona he assumes. Inside, he stays ultimately a mystery, and even this novel cannot penetrate his disguises. This may confound some readers today wanting a tidy psychoanalytical or postcolonial explanation of what makes Burton tick inside. It may frustrate audiences today, but it refuses to offer any more rationales than those around Burton can imagine, in Troyanov's many-layered, intricately structured narratives.

The horrors of slavery and the attack of a mudslide on Burton and Speke's camp make the latter portion of the tale most memorable. The Indian section's standout part comes with how it shows Burton infiltrating himself within plotters as a merchant; similarly, the Meccan pilgrimage features the novel's single most philosophical vignette. It comes out of Burton's unease after he circles the Kaaba in Mecca: "If every person were closer to you, who would you care for, who would you suffer with? Man's heart is a receptacle of finite capacity, whereas the divine is an infinite principle." (273)

I give Burton's encounter later on the hajj, at the stoning of Satan at the pillars in the Valley of Mina, here as a taste of the flavor of this satisfying book's highlight. The pilgrims, after throwing their seven pebbles at the stones symbolizing the Evil One, shove and try to get out of the way of the other pilgrims who must throw their pebbles at the stones-- and who hit the crowds ahead of them, nearer the stones. Burton finds that this ritual's "an exercise in the all too human. Everyone approached the devil within; the pilgrims' hearts were turned to stone again, and so there was no mistake the pebbles should hit the pilgrims. Quite the opposite: in their fellow men they hit the Devil, not the column he had put there as a distraction." (292)

Burton realizes that after their perpetual motion of devotion at the Kaaba, he's entered the pilgrims' swirl at Mina of unceasing violence. Here, "at the heart of Islam," he recalls the words of his Hindu mentor: "as long as we see our fellow men simply as other people, we will never stop hurting them. Seen from this perspective, the Devil was in the differences people created between each other. A jet of saliva landing on his face confirmed the thought."

An amazing man who led an amazing life, and this book brings it all to life for the reader. Years ago the BBC produced a wonderful series on the search for the source of the Nile, and so that part of Burton's story can be SEEN, but such a brilliant life that was full of such high adventure could never be shown without a VERY VERY long series made at terrible expense. This book, while covering only certain exciting phases of his career, comes as close as anything can to making it all real for you, short of giving you malaria.

This is a great bio of a truly giant of a man. Those who have read biographies of or works by Sir Richard Francis Burton will enjoy this. Others, perhaps not as much. A blistering insight into the British Empire's India. Fine reading.

This was an excellent selection! Burton was truly a universal man, and the book read like the wind! Great book! Burton is known for his exotic travel adventures all over the world in the 19th century, and was a linguist who spoke 29 languages! He also wrote a great quantity of books, which have been read by interested people everywhere.

"Collector of Worlds" is a fictional account of three extended journeys in the life of the great Victorian explorer/translator Sir Richard Francis Burton: to India, Arabia, and Africa, each occupying a third of Troyanov's book. From India, Burton brought back the Kama Sutra, and from Arabia, the Arabian Nights. While in Arabia, Burton also became one of the very few non-Muslims to ever complete the pilgrimage to Mecca. In Africa, Burton led a harrowing expedition that "discovered" Lake Tanganyika (which was unknown to Europe at the time, although the Africans and Arabs were well aware of it).

Author Iliya Troyanov's narrates Burton's explorations through the (fictional) words of native people who guided Burton on his explorations or were otherwise involved with him. His multiple- (and sometimes unreliable) narrator perspective is a modern novelistic tool that usually works well in this book - Troyanov is a fine writer - but occasionally distracts from the narrative. As if realizing that Burton's interior life could not be imagined from such a perspective, Troyanov occasionally breaks off from the first-person narrative of Burton's companions and inserts a page or two in "omniscient narrator" perspective.

As a reader I found Troyanov's novel to be perched, somewhat precariously, between Burton's inner and outer worlds; his multiple-narrator approach seemed a kind of indirect and limited viewpoint on such a personally dynamic, iconoclastic, and complicated man as Burton. However, the overall quality of Troyanov's writing - which approaches the lyrical, and is certainly literary without being at all pretentious - easily overrides these objections.