{"product_id":"lost-to-the-west-isbn-9780307407962","title":"Lost to the West","description":"Filled with unforgettable  stories of emperors, generals, and religious patriarchs, as well as fascinating glimpses  into the life of the ordinary citizen, \u003ci\u003eLost to the West\u003c\/i\u003e reveals how much we owe to  the Byzantine Empire that was the equal of any in its achievements, appetites, and enduring  legacy.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e For more than a millennium, Byzantium reigned as the glittering seat of Christian  civilization. When Europe fell into the Dark Ages, Byzantium held fast against Muslim  expansion, keeping Christianity alive.  Streams of wealth flowed into Constantinople, making possible unprecedented wonders  of art and architecture. And the  emperors who ruled Byzantium enacted a saga of political intrigue and conquest as  astonishing as anything in recorded history. \u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLost to the West\u003c\/i\u003e is replete with stories  of assassination, mass mutilation and execution, sexual scheming, ruthless grasping  for power, and clashing armies that soaked battlefields with the blood of slain warriors  numbering in the tens of thousands.“Captivating . . . In \u003ci\u003eLost to the West \u003c\/i\u003eLars Brownworth shows a novelist’s eye for character, bringing to life some of the most fascinating—and yet little known—figures of the Byzantine era. With dry humor and a palette of vivid images, he recounts the dizzying game of musical chairs that placed one usurper after another on the Byzantine throne, only to be pitched off in a gaudily macabre way. In the end, one is left agog by the irony that the upshot of this centuries-long scrum was the preservation of nearly all that the Greeks have bequeathed to us.”\u003cb\u003e—Steven Pressfield, author of \u003ci\u003eGates of Fire\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Confidently striding through time and across the mountains and plains of the Eastern Mediterranean, Brownworth puts this theocratic superstate slap-bang in the center of mankind's global story; back where it should be. The Byzantines made our world what it is today. Lars Brownworth matches their verve and brio in his seductive and gripping account.”\u003cb\u003e—Bettany Hughes, PBS host and author of \u003ci\u003eHelen of Troy\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“This is history as it used to be, history as storytelling. In this fascinating account of the Byzantine empire, Lars Brownworth covers a thousand years of bloodletting, outrageous luxury, bitter religious disputes and vaulting ambition without giving the slightest impression of being rushed or crowded. The page turns unaided.”\u003cb\u003e—Anthony Everitt, bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eAugustus, Cicero\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eThe First Emperor\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e“A hugely entertaining and often moving portrait of a civilization to which the modern West owes an immense but neglected debt. Read it, and you will never use the word ‘Byzantine’ as a term of abuse again.”\u003cb\u003e—Thomas Holland, author of \u003ci\u003eMillennium, Persian Fire\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eRubicon\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e“Lost to the West\u003c\/i\u003e is the sort of history I wish I’d been offered in school—a fast-paced adventure story that covers over a thousand years of political intrigue, brilliant leaders, incompetent squabblers, mayhem, butchery and religious divides, and vividly pictures a bygone era that is still a vital part of our heritage.”\u003cb\u003e—Mark Pendergrast, author of \u003ci\u003eUncommon Grounds\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“The Byzantines are back! Correcting centuries of neglect, Lars Brownworth guides us through a forgotten world and, with clarity and wit, brings it to vibrant life. Filled with a dazzling cast of ruthless Emperors, conniving generals and half-crazed scholars, \u003ci\u003eLost to the West\u003c\/i\u003e is both entertaining and enlightening -- a great piece of popular history.”\u003cb\u003e—Tony Perrottet, author of \u003ci\u003ePagan Holiday\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eThe Naked Olympics\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003eLARS BROWNWORTH, a former high-school history teacher, is the creator of the podcast phenomenon “12 Byzantine Rulers” that iTunes named as one of the “podcasts that define the genre.” Brownworth and his podcast have been profiled in the \u003ci\u003eNew York Times, Wired\u003c\/i\u003e, and \u003ci\u003eUSA Today\u003c\/i\u003e, and were featured on NPR.\u003cb\u003e1\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Diocletian's Revolution\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The long-suffering people of the third-century Roman Empire  had the distinct misfortune to live in interesting times. For three centuries before  Constantine's birth, Roman architects, engineers, and soldiers had crisscrossed the  known world, bringing order and stability to the barbaric, diverse lands beyond the  frontiers of Italy. In the wake of the mighty Pax Romana came more than fifty-thousand  miles of arrow-straight, graded roads and towering aqueducts, impervious alike to  the mountains and valleys that they spanned. These highways were the great secret  of empire, providing access to markets, ease of travel, and an imperial mail system  that could cover more than five hundred miles in a single day. Graceful cities sprang  up along the major routes, complete with amphitheaters, public baths, and even indoor  plumbing—a visible testament to the triumph of civilization. But by the third century,  time had ravaged the empire's glory, and revolts had stained its streets with blood.  Those impressive Roman roads that had so effectively exported the empire now became  its greatest weakness as rebel armies and barbarian hordes came rushing in. No one—not  even the ephemeral emperors—was safe in those uncertain times. In the first eight  decades of the century, twenty-nine men sat on the imperial throne, but only one  escaped murder or capture to die a natural death.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Apathy and enervation seemed to  be everywhere, sapping the strength of once solid Roman foundations. The military,  too busy playing kingmaker to maintain itself, fell victim like everything else to  the sickness of the age. In 259, the proud Emperor Valerian led his soldiers against  the Persians, and suffered one of the greatest humiliations in Roman history. Captured  by the enemy, he was forced to endure the indignity of being used as a footstool  by the gleeful Persian king. When the broken emperor at last expired, the Persians  had him flayed, dyeing the skin a deep red color and stuffing it with hay. Hanging  the gruesome trophy on a wall, they displayed it to visiting Roman ambassadors as  a constant reminder of just how hollow the myth of the invincible legions had become.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Such public humiliation was galling, but Roman writers had been lamenting the decay  of the national character for years. As early as the second century bc, Polybius  blamed the politicians whose pandering had reduced the Republic to mob rule, Sallust  railed against the viciousness of political parties, and Livy—the most celebrated  writer of Rome's golden age—had written that \"these days . . . we can bear neither  our diseases nor their remedies.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Now, however, a more ominous note crept in. The  predictions of disaster gave way to glowing panegyrics celebrating the greatness  and permanence of emperors who were plainly nothing of the sort. The men on the throne  seemed like shadows flitting across the imperial stage, an awful confirmation that  the gods had turned their backs on humanity. Barbarian enemies were gathering like  wolves on the frontiers, but the generals sent against them more often than not used  their swords to clear a path to the throne. The army, once a servant of the emperor,  now became his master, and dynasties rose and fell with bewildering frequency.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The  chaos of nearly continuous civil war made it hard to tell who the emperor actually  was, but the tax collectors came anyway, with their unceasing demands for more money.  The desperate shadow emperors tried to save money by reducing the silver content  of their coins, but the resulting inflation crippled the economy, and most of the  empire reverted to the barter system. Terrified by the mounting uncertainty, men  took refuge in mystery religions that taught that the physical world was fleeting  or evil, and put their hopes in magic, astrology, and alchemy. Life was full of pain,  and the more extreme refused marriage or committed suicide to escape it. The very  fabric of society was coming apart, and rich and poor alike prayed for deliverance.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Salvation came, unexpectedly enough, from Dalmatia. A tough soldier named Diocletian  from that backward, rugged land of craggy peaks and lush forests rose up to claim  the throne. Assuming power in the usual way by assassinating his predecessor and  climbing over the bodies of rival armies, Diocletian was pragmatic enough to admit  what others had only dimly suspected. The empire was simply too large to be successfully  governed by one man in these troubled days. Its vast territory embraced the entire  Mediterranean, stretching from the damp forests of Britain in the north to the blazing  deserts of Egypt in the south, from the Rock of Gibraltar in the west to the borders  of Persia in the east. Even if he spent his entire life in the saddle, Diocletian  couldn't possibly react quickly enough to stamp out every crisis, nor could he dispatch  surrogates to fight on his behalf; recent imperial history provided too many examples  of such generals using their swords to clear a path to the throne. If the wobbling  empire were to be preserved at all, Diocletian needed to somehow shrink its enormous  size—a task that had overwhelmed all of his immediate predecessors. Few leaders  in history can have started a reign with such a daunting job, but the pragmatic Diocletian  found an unorthodox solution: He raised an old drinking buddy named Maximian to the  rank of senior emperor, or Augustus, and split the world in half.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e It wasn't quite  as revolutionary a decision as it sounded, especially because the Empire was already  divided linguistically. Long before Rome had dreamed of world conquest, Alexander  the Great had swept east to India, crushing all who stood against him and forging  the unwieldy territories into an empire. In his footsteps had come Hellenization,  and though Alexander's empire had crumbled with his death, Greek culture seeped in  and took root. Rome had spread from the west like a veneer over this Hellenized world,  superior in arms but awed by the older culture's sophistication. Latin was spoken  in the eastern halls of power, but not in its markets or homes. In thought and character,  the East remained firmly Greek.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Handing over the western areas of the empire, where  Latin was the dominant language, to Maximian, Diocletian kept the richer, more cultured  Greek east for himself. In theory, the empire was still one and indivisible, but  each half would have a drastically different fate, and the rough line that was drawn  between them still marks the divide between eastern and western Europe today. The  full ramifications wouldn't become clear for another two centuries, but Diocletian  had effectively divided the world into Roman and Byzantine halves.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Sharing power  with another man was a dangerous game for Diocletian to play since it ran the obvious  risk of creating a rival, but Maximian proved to be an extremely loyal colleague.  Pleased by the success, and aware that two men were still not enough to stem the  tide of invaders streaming over the frontiers, Diocletian divided power again by  appointing two junior emperors (Caesars). These men were given full authority to  lead armies and even issue laws, and greatly eased the burdens of administration  by the senior rulers. Four men could now claim an imperial rank, and though for the  moment they were remarkably efficient, only time would tell if this \"tetrarchy\" (rule  of four) would be a team of rivals or colleagues.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Diocletian, meanwhile, was just  getting warmed up. The lightened workload enabled him to carry out a thorough reorganization  of the cluttered bureaucracy. Replacing the chaotic system with a clean, efficient  military one, he divided the empire into twelve neat dioceses, each governed by a  vicar who reported directly to his emperor.* Taxes could now be collected with greater  efficiency, and the money that poured into the treasury could better equip the soldiers  guarding the frontiers. With budget and borders in hand, Diocletian now turned to  the monumental task of stabilizing the crown itself.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The emperor understood better  than any man before him just how precarious the throne had become. Numerous revolts  had made the army loyal to the personality, not the position, of the emperor, and  such a situation was inherently unstable. No one man, no matter how powerful or charismatic,  could keep every segment of the population happy, and the moment some vulnerability  was spotted, civil war would erupt. In earlier days, the royal blood of long-lived  dynasties had checked ambition, but now that any man with an army could make himself  emperor, something more was needed. To break the cycle of rebellion and war, Diocletian  needed to make the position of emperor respected regardless of who occupied the throne.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e This was the great struggle of the ancient world. Stability was needed for an orderly  succession, but often such stability could only be achieved by a tyrant, and every  dictator who justified his seizure of power further undermined the principle of succession.  In any case, the idea of elevating the concept of the throne flew in the face of  established tradition. The last five decades had seen emperors drawn from among the  army, men who went to great lengths to prove that they were just like the men they  commanded. They ate with their troops, laughed at their jokes, listened to their  worries, and tried their best to hold on to their loyalty. Such a common touch was  necessary; without it, you could easily miss the first flickers of unhappiness that  might ignite into civil war, but it also reinforced the idea that emperors were just  ordinary men.","brand":"Crown","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46304034259173,"sku":"NP9780307407962","price":20.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780307407962.jpg?v=1767731835","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/es\/products\/lost-to-the-west-isbn-9780307407962","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}