I enjoyed reading this adventure-action story. This is my first Michael Crichton novel and I thought it was pretty good. It is a historical fiction about an Arab emissary on his way to aid the king of the Volga Bulgars. But his journey gets sidetracked when he encounters the Vikings. He is marked the '13th Warrior' and must go with the Vikings on a quest to the north. The story then takes off when they undertake their mission in fighting a ruthless evil. It's definitely not my favorite book but it wasn't bad either.

I saw the movie when it first came out so I can't really tell how it compares. I could see the 'Beowulf' elements and that was cool. Overall it's a fun, quick, and decent adventure story I'd recommend as a weekend read. Thanks!

Audioreseña en mi podcast Dragones y Replicantes en el programa "Hablamos de libros 2": https://go.ivoox.com/rf/105223137

Encuentro este libro francamente desconcertante en su propósito. Es como si prologo y libro sufrieran de esquizofrenia: incapaces de ponerse de acuerdo, el segundo omite todo lo que el primero defiende, o intenta defender.

En el prólogo, Crichton nos cuenta su proceso de escritura, cómo dio con las crónicas originales de Ahmad ibn Fadlan, el protagonista de la novela y embajador real del califa de Bagdad en tierras vikingas, y cómo el imaginario colectivo, moldeado a partir de cuentos románticos decimonónicos, operas wagnerianas y cintas con Kirk Douglas y Toni Curtis surcados de cicatrices, han popularizado un mito del vikingo como salvaje sanguinario, tan bruto como buen guerrero, mortal con la espada, sus brazos y su fuerte olor corporal; paganos supersticiosos que no tiemblan ante el enemigo más pero sí ante un mal augurio; masas de músculo curtido por la cellisca tan impenetrables que ni el oxígeno les alcanza al cerebro. Es decir, vikingos de toda la vida de Dios. Crichton quiere que olvidemos a esos barbaros sedientos de sangre, que tomemos su crueldad como propaganda cristiana y veamos a un pueblo noble, organizado, contemplativo, no más violento que sus vecinos sureños. Tal es su intención que no toma como narrador a un monje católico, pues considera que un cronista musulmán estaría más libre de prejuicios sobre los pueblos nórdicos que las víctimas habituales de saqueos e incursiones. En palabras del propio Crichton, "mucho de lo que vio [Ibn Fadlan] le resultó vulgar, obsceno y bárbaro, pero no perdió mucho tiempo en manifestar indignación".

Entonces, ¿qué es lo que nos cuenta Michael Crichton?

Una historia de vikingos sangrientos, hediondos y supersticiosos que se lían a espadazos contra una raza desconocida de homínidos caníbales. En efecto, el retrato que Ibn Fadlan hace del pueblo vikingo es el que se esperaría cualquier lector. Y eso de que el narrador no juzga no es del todo así, pues el mahometano, pese a lo muy adaptable que demuestra ser, no deja de ser representante del su califato, probablemente la cultura más desarrollada y civilizada (al menos bajo sus ojos) que habitaba en Europa en el año de nuestro señor 900, y por tanto deja bastante claro que los vikingos son lo que uno esperaría, a saber, una jauría de perros infieles, lascivos y corrompidos por su insaciable sed de hidromiel y muerte. Que sí, sermonear no los sermonea, porque el muchacho tampoco es imbécil y sigue queriendo conservar una cabeza que cubrir con su turbante, pero deja por escrito todas sus impresiones. Así que, me pregunto, ¿para qué ese pellizco de monja en forma de prólogo si luego vas a escribir la misma sarta de topicazos que críticas?

Lo mismo me la estoy cogiendo con papel de fumar. Empiezo este cuarto párrafo y aún no he hablado del libro en sí. Pero es que no me ensañaría así si el contenido del libro no fuera lo que es: una serie de lugares comunes que son el "a,b,c" de las historias de vikingos. Nada luce especialmente, en parte debido al estilo ramplón y aburrido del narrador, que cuenta toda la historia como quien escribe un albarán: dando fe de lo que vio, como fiel testimonio, sin adulterar sus vivencias con literatura. Crichton explica en su prologo -¡otra vez el maldito prologo!- esta elección tonal. Este es ante todo un documento histórico, escrito por un embajador a su soberano, en el que da cuenta de los usos, costumbres y políticas de sus vecinos norteños, con los que puede ser, o no, mantener relaciones comerciales fructíferas. Por eso el texto, pese a narrar una lucha contra una raza de hombres antediluvianos y caníbales, es así de soso: no es un cantar de gesta, sino una crónica. El problema de esta elección es que, si bien ganas en verosimilitud, sigue siendo un estilo igual de soso, aburrido, carente de épica y sentimiento, una enumeración de hechos descritos con la precisión de un contable.

La historia que se nos cuenta, además, es una actualización en clave de ciencia ficción del cantar de Beowulf de la mano del autor de Parque Jurásico. Con esto quiero decir que los añadidos de ciencia ficción tienen la misma base científica que los dinosaurios homicidas de la isla Sorna. En este libro, la gran amenaza entre la niebla, son neandertales supervivientes del último máximo glacial que incursionan en territorio vikingo para secuestrar su cena. Como lector esta amenaza me parece brutal, lo mejor de la novela sin duda alguna, un Grendel a la altura de nuestro Beowulf. Como paleontólogo me plantea muchas preguntas, como que los últimos representantes de los neandertales sobrevivieran durante uno de los episodios más fríos de la edad de hielo, cuando los casquetes polares habían sepultado todo el norte de Europa, en la Escandinavia profunda. Es como decir que los dinosaurios que lograron sobrevivir a la caída del asteroide lo hicieron porque se refugiaron en el cráter. Además, lo mismo que Crichton rompe una raza a favor de los vikingos, criticando el lugar de villanos al que la historia, el cristianismo y el romanticismo les relego, tengo que hacer lo mismo con nuestros desafortunados primos de frentes anchas. Los neandertales no eran seres primitivos, caníbales y ferales, o al menos no lo eran más que los primeros homo sapiens. Y para salvajismo creo que la humanidad "civilizada" tiene 8000 años de historia que dista mucho de ser pacifica. Esta humanidad paralela se componía de individuos sensibles, que enterraban a sus muertos, contaban historias al calor de la hoguera, decoraban sus cuevas con escenas de caza, fabricaban y tocaban instrumentos de hueso y adornaban sus vestidos con cuentas y minerales bellos. Eran, ante todo, grupos familiares o pequeñas tribus, con sus costumbres y rituales, indiferenciables de las costumbres y rituales de los primeros sapiens. La imagen del cavernícola tosco, estúpido y agresivo, más parecido a un gorila en celo que a un guerrero tribal, está más que superada. Pero esto, por supuesto, no es problema de Crichton, que escribió su novela en los años setenta, momento en que todo esto se desconocía. Aunque mejor sería decir que el chovinismo científico de ese entonces desdeñaba cualquier evidencia que apuntara a que nuestros parientes primitivos no eran mucho más primitivos que nuestros ancestros sapiens. Insisto, esto no es una crítica a las decisiones de Crichton, que como lector de novelas de aventura aplaudo porque la novela es un 23% mejor gracias a estos asesinos brumosos, al igual que Bone Tomahawk es un 23% mejor gracias a su tribu antediluviana de indios silbones, sino una lección de paleoantropología que nadie ha pedido y que yo he querido hacer.

Porque soy un pedante que no puede evitar hacer paleoexplaining sin pedir consentimiento.

Dicho esto, Devoradores de cadáveres es una buena novela de aventuras que pierde puntos por el aburrido estilo con que esta escrita, la cantidad de lugares comunes de que se compone su narración y el prólogo esquizoide que lo antecede. Pasad del prólogo, hacedme caso, leed la novela y disfrutad de como estos vikingos borrachuzos y pendencieros cometen un genocidio con los últimos representantes del pueblo neandertal.

I read this back in the day, and I remember loving it.
I just saw the 13th Warrior (you know, the one with Antonio Banderas?) and it reminded me of this book.
After I read it, I think I'd have given it a 5 star review, but looking at my tastes now, and realizing that Michael Crichton is an amazing writer, he's also not my style anymore. If he ever was. I enjoyed the history presented in the story, and I loved being able to envision all the characters thanks to the movie, but I'm only giving it a 3 star, since 5 stars are the ones I'd read over and over again, and I don't think I can take Michael Crichton anymore.

Διαβάστε και την ελληνική κριτική στις βιβλιοαλχημείες.

As I said on my previous review on Michael Crichton's 1975 novel «A Great Train Robbery», Crichton after writing quite a few thrillers and science-fiction books (1966-1974), he made an 180 degree turn and wrote a historical novel set in Victorian London, telling the story of a Great Train Robbery.

His next novel «Eaters of the Dead» published in 1976 is also a historical novel with some elements of fantasy.
It's a double retelling of the oldest epic poem in English Beowulf composed around 8th-10th century AD, and the manuscript of Ibn Fadlan.

What Crichton did with this retelling is the following. (Bear in mind that he is a good researcher when it come to writing books)
1) He removed the fantasy elements from the poem, the Dragon, and the monsters: Grendel and his Mother.
He added historical elements in the story: The events of Beowulf through the eyes of an Arab traveller. Our narrator.
Ahmad ibn Fadlan was a real person that wrote an account about his contact with Vikings and their customs.

So Crichton took Fadlan's manuscript and Beowulf's epic poem, and combined the two together to make a historical novel set in the Early Middle Ages.
A novel that travels from hot Baghdad all the way to the frigid North.

Crichton by making our narrator an Arab with a culture vastly different from the one of the Vikings was a clever idea. This is because many of us are not accustomed to the culture and customs of the Vikings hence we are as bewildered as the narrator is when he faces 'strange' food and beliefs.

This was quite a short book (169 pages) which might appeal to fantasy readers and fans of medieval times in literature, like me.

As always we have a scholarly introduction by Crichton on how he conceived the idea of this book as well as bibliography. It also had a few footnotes making it feel as if you were reading an actual historical novel.

It was adapted into film with Antonio Banderas as the protagonist Ibn Fadlan.

I didn't like this. I didn't enjoy the writing style and Michael Crichton ruined Vikings for me with all the depictions of women as sexual objects (rape is a constant thing in this book; thankfully, no graphic details of the rapes). I was mostly grossed out and disgusted during my reading of this. It wasn't scary. I plan to watch the movie version as I've heard that's better.

I love The 13th Warrior so just had to read the book it’s adapted from. The book is a lot shorter than I expected and written in a very matter of fact way. This is the first Michael Crichton book I’ve ever read and I’ve enjoyed it immensely ⚔️

Set in the tenth century, Crichton uses the an account of an actual journey made by Ahmad ibn Fadlan to the land of the Vikings and weaves that account into the tale of Beowulf. Ahmad ibn Fadlan is sent by the Caliph of Baghdad on a mission to assist the king of the Volga Bulgars. But before he can complete his mission, his party encounters a group of Northmen. The Arabian courtier is a keen study of other men and their ways and he and his group stay awhile with the Vikings. This proves to be his undoing because while staying with the men from the north, an emissary and kinsman of Buliwyf arrives telling the great leader that he and other his warriors are needed to help defend the kingdom of Rothgar from the creatures that attack under cover of the black mist. It winds up that, according to Viking custom, the correct number of warriors for such a hero's quest is thirteen...and the thirteenth warrior must be a foreigner. Buliwyf, to Ahmad ibn Fadlan's dismay, chooses the refined representative of the Caliph as his thirteenth warrior and refuses to take no for an answer.

Our narrator soon finds himself traveling and living with these men--men who are dirty and have the most appalling customs. Just when Ahmad resigns himself to dealing with one disgusting custom, like drinking incredible amounts of mead, then another custom is presented to him. He is disgusted by the wanton sexuality, their rites for the dead--including human sacrifice, and their raucous parties at the most inappropriate (to him) times. He has great difficulty understanding their humor and is incapable of producing adequate jokes or songs when called upon to do so by his fellow warriors. But by the time the tale is done--Ahmad is drinking, wenching, and fighting the Wendols with the best of them.

Crichton does a terrific job weaving the journal of Ahmad with the Beowulf story to create a new narrative. He gives the story an air of truth or "truthiness" through pedantic footnotes which, as he tells us in the afterward to the 1992 version published under the title The 13th Warrior, fooled even him when he went back to the story after a few years.

When I was writing, I felt that I was drawing line between fact and fiction clearly....But within a few years, I could no longer be certain which passages were real, and which were made up; at one point I found myself in a research library trying to locate certain references in my bibliography, and finally concluding, after hours of frustrating effort, that however convincing they appeared, they must be fictitious.

My only complaint would be that by doing so, he robs the events of some of its narrative force. The journal-like narrative is written in much drier style than that of his more straightforward fiction. It was more difficult to lose myself in the adventure when Ahmad was constantly inserting "I saw with my own eyes..." rather than just getting on with the story.

On the other hand, the style does lend itself to a comparison of customs and mores of two very different peoples. It was interesting to read of Ahmad's reactions to the "barbaric" Northmen and to see how, as he became more accustomed to them and lived among them, he found himself falling in with their ways over time. It is an incisive commentary on how different need not be scary or wrong and the more you engage with differences, the more you come to understand others.

I thought this was interesting experiment with story-telling--taking a legend and attempting to strip it down to what might be the kernels of truth upon which the old story may be based. Crichton starts with the assumption that there must be some events which prompted the original storyteller to create the legend of Beowulf and Grendel--and Grendel's mother. A very interesting read even though it is not quite as exciting as a pure action-adventure.

First posted on my blog My Reader's Block.

Al inicio se me hizo un tanto pesado por tantos nombres similares, pero una vez arranca la parte del manuscrito este adquiere forma y la aventura va mejorando con cada página.
Según tengo entendido el libro está basado en un manuscrito real, más imagino que los tintes fantasiosos ya han sido obra de la tan elogiada creatividad e imaginación de Crichton, pero me generó mucha curiosidad bastantes datos y hechos curiosos en cuanto a algunas tribus o pueblos turcos y nórdicos, sin duda una historia que entretiene e ilustra, especialmente si quieren leer algo de los tan conocidos vikingos.

In a time when history was an infant, any traveller from a far off land would have been treated a curiosity. To imagine Marco Polo or Ibn Battuta at a place I know of in a time far ago would have been a most amusing thing. This story speaks of one such seemingly unnatural pairing : an Arab in the land of the Vikings. In a time when Baghdad was a shining gem, the Arabs were sophisticated and erudite. They were travellers, warriors, traders and poets and this was built on the intensely fertile intellectual landscape that the country nurtured. On the other hand, the Scandinavians were primarily a war like group. While they attained great highs in culture, literature and the arts they were treated for a long time as barbarians. This was partly thanks to the adventures of the sea faring Vikings. An Arab among the Vikings would have been a peacock in the land of penguins and it is exactly one such scenario that Crichton uses here.

Do not let my earlier paragraph fool you for this is no cultural study. Right from the onset of the tale, it is abundantly clear that this is a light read in the vein of a historic action thriller. Crichton relies on the travels of a man Ibn-Fadlan into the lands of the Vikings and mixes into it the soul of Beowulf. What comes out is a small but swift story of sword fights and a hero-quest. I quite liked the rather crazy idea that there might be still a small tribe of feral and cannibalistic band of primitives in the last outposts of humanity who can wreak havoc in the psyches of a yet evolving culture. The mist monsters that Crichton conjures up here were to me equal parts Grendel and humanity's fear of the unknown. There is also the fact that the narrator Ibn-Fadlan is a very prosaic and pragmatic narrator and at times his exploits read more like a trade agreement than a dramatic rendition of a bloody conflict. Such a dry-as-dust style in fact works to the benefit of the story and was quite enjoyable.

On the flip side, there is hardly any character development. When the story finishes you don't even know an inch more of the characters than when you began reading. The author speaks of the antagonists, the Wendol as something equalling the ancestors of man and yet they fight on horseback and a convincing argument about their cannibalism is not given out. They are left to us the readers as an enigma and not a fully explored force of primeval terror.

All factors considered it is a decent enough thriller and at the hands of someone like Crichton, the pace is fast enough to deliver a good read.

Love it when a book exceeds my expectations. The veracity of this work? Dubious at best. Still, a good yarn.

اتوقع هذا أفضل كتاب قرأته في ٢٠٢٠ وأفضل مثال لنوعي المفضل من الكتب
العنوان ممكن يعطيكم فكره ان الكتاب مرعب أو خيالي ويتكلم عن مخلوقات الزومبي لكن في الحقيقه هو بعيييد كل البعد عن الخيال
حكايته واقعيه مأخوذه من مخطوطة الرحاله المسلم أحمد ابن فضلان اللي حكى فيها رحلته لما أختطفه الاسكندنافيين وهو في طريقه لانجاز مهمه (أو رجال الشمال كما يسمون بالكتاب ، اللي هم الفايكنق الخ..)
ويصف لنا ابن فضلان طريقة عيشهم ومعتقداتهم واسلوبهم في الحياه والحروب وايش شاهد في ترحاله معهم
يقدم هذا الكتاب نظره عن العالم في القرن العاشر الميلادي وكيف كانت حياة الشعوب قديماً جميييل جداً وممتع

Buliwyf said: "You have seen much of our ways. Tell me what is true. Do you draw sounds?" I answered that I did. "Then look to your safety, and do not be overbrave. You dress and now you speak as a Northman, and not a foreign man. See that you live."

And thus we have Crichton's wonderful amalgamation of an actual 10th century manuscript, and the legend of Beowulf. Eaters of the Dead is the story of Ahmad Ibn Fadlan, an Arab emissary who, through an encounter with a group of Northmen, is appropriated into their company for a journey to defend against a 'nameless terror'.

This was a reread for me, and as I have not read this book since I was in high school, practically like reading it anew. While written as a manuscript in the style of Fadlan's personal account, it is always interesting and oftentimes very humorous. The storytelling is specific, and saves on any lush descriptions or prose in favor of character development and world building. The country of the Northmen really does come to life around this group of thirteen men as they journey through various villages, encountering a number of principalities and tribes. Adding to the genuine feeling of the manuscript there are many footnotes, references to various scholarly works that have been written about Fadlan's narrative, and an appendix discussing the nature of the 'terror'. Crichton uses this all to great effect, weaving a wonderful atmosphere that feels cold, somewhat oppressive, and filled with uncertainty.

Not being capable of concealing my emotion, I said to him, "I am afraid."

Herger replied to me: "That is because you think upon what is to come, and imagine fearsome things that would stop the blood of any man. Do not think ahead, and be cheerful by knowing that no man lives forever."

One aspect that I find so endearing about this novel, and what makes it such a fun adventure is in watching the gradual disconnect between Fadlan and the Northmen dissolve into a tentative friendship forged in their shared experiences. Fadlan initially sees the Northmen as filthy and disgusting barbarians, while the Northmen dismiss him as being a foolish Arab who does not understand their society. Each side is given fair treatment, though always through the lens of Fadlan and his account. It's easy to see their relationship change and grow over their journey, as the experiences change each of them. Though they believe in different gods, come from drastically varying backgrounds and cultures, the characters learn to trust and respect each other as men.

"That is not the truth," I said, although I did not know this. In honest fact, I had thought upon this matter from time to time; Buliwyf was young and vital, and Rothgar old and weak, and while it is true that the ways of the Northmen are strange, it is also true that all men are the same.

Very entertaining, and very well written, Eaters of the Dead is a fun and short adventure tale that I think anyone who enjoys fantasy, weird fiction, and/or historical fiction, will enjoy.

“Praise not the day until evening has come, a woman until she is burnt, a sword until it is tried, a maiden until she is married, ice until it has been crossed, beer until it has been drunk.”