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We are asked to compare the two writers explicitly. ‘There was always with me the feeling of rubbing shoulders undeservedly, perhaps presumptuously, but always thankfully, with a giant,’ Kapuscinski writes. He is not Herodotus’ equal, but he would like us to know that the Greek was his model. He is effectively asking his critics to look for answers to their quibbles in the life and works of Herodotus.
By and large the comparison rings true. Both were indefatigable, inquisitive and acutely sensitive to cultural differences. Both tapped a broad cross-section of verbal sources, attempting to give equal weight to the word on the street and the official line. In Kapuscinski’s case, this was partly enforced by his agency’s lack of means:
I walk, ask, listen, cajole, scrape, and string together facts, opinions, stories. I don’t complain, because this method enables me to meet many people and find out about things not covered in the press or on the radio.
More strikingly, both used stories from alien cultures to score political points, or at least to reflect on the political situation at home. Herodotus tells an apo-
cryphal story about how the three leading Persians argued over the future course of Persian government after Cyrus’ death. Darius proposes monarchy, Otanes proposes democracy and Megabyzus proposes oligarchy — their argument, despite being impossible chronologically (at the time of Cyrus’ death, democracy wasn’t even a twinkle in Cleisthenes’ eye), is a fascinating reflection of the kind of political tittle-tattle that Athenians would have been bandying about in the agora in Herodotus’ day. Similarly, Kapuscinski’s The Emperor (1978) describes Haile Selassie’s regime in terms implicitly linked to eastern European communism. Both stories offer insights into the political backgrounds of the intended readership, but neither inspire great confidence in terms of factual accuracy.
Travels with Herodotus is a strange book, structurally fragmented and with a drifting, elusive narrative. It is both a memoir and a fable, as well as a simple retelling of Herodotus. Perhaps this strangeness is apt — a book that barely touches base in any known genre is a fitting finale for a man who defied the generic conventions of journalism and literature.
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