Book Review: Lost to the West

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Lost to the West: The Forgotten Byzantine Empire That Rescued Western Civilization
Lars Brownworth © 2010

I went into this book knowing very little about the Byzantine Empire. I recently read another of Lars' books, The Sea Wolves: A History of the Vikings, which mentioned the B.E. enough to pique my interest. While not exhaustive, (or exhausting for that matter) I closed this book with an understanding of the Byzantine Empire's place in the world, the role it played in European history, and the depth of the loss when it finally fell in 29 May 1453 to the Ottomans.

The Roman Empire fractured into East and West around 285 A.D. Newly appointed Emperor of the East, Constantine, (The Great) located his capital city in what is now Istanbul, Turkey. This location was highly defensible and a hub in the spokes of the trade routes by land and sea. Constantine lost no time establishing his capital city, soon to be known as Constantinople which would become the heart of the Byzantine Empire. The new empire rejected Roman Polytheism in favor of Christianity (Orthodox) and took up Greek rather than Latin as was used in Western Rome. And like the Greeks, they treasured philosophy, education, culture and art. The separate path of cultural evolution between the two empires began immediately.

He's not cruel, just accurate for the time-period.
O.K. so maybe the Red Wedding was a little much...

What follows is a thousand years of history that reads like a George RR Martin novel. Emperors were killed by ambitious wives, generals, noble aristocrats, usurpers of all kinds from all directions, and they were not spared plague or other disease—emperors did not sleep easy. Children of the emperor grew up with assassins waiting behind every curtain—perhaps it was a stepmother, or even a brother. Whenever an emperor died without a heir apparent, the empire was thrown into civil war, until a new leader emerged from the chaos.

I thought they'd be hairier.

The Byzantine Empire expanded and contracted as it “liberated” former Roman cities from “barbarians”. During most of that time the Western Roman Empire suffered barbarian (non-Roman) rule through the dark ages and early medieval times.  The Byzantine Empire was a (mostly) benevolent patron to the West.  For hundreds of years they shielded them from zealot invaders like the Persians, Arabs, Turks and Ottomans, until they were strong enough (with help from the East) to fully cast off the barbarian yolk. The West eventually emerged from their Dark Ages under Roman Catholic rule and had a tenuous relationship with the Orthodox faith of the eastern empire, despite all the aid they received.

How many Hail Mary's for betrayal?

The West grew in power and influence and eventually turned on the East.  The Byzantine Empire was already weakened by war, plague, and a series of inept rulers, then further so by the vicious bloodletting called the Crusades, the fourth of which directly attacked Constantinople. Vulnerable and surrounded by enemies, the Byzantine Empire officially converted from Orthodox to Roman Catholic, leveraged by the promise of unification of the empires for protection and fortification. Shortly thereafter the city fell to the Ottomans, unaided by the Pope.

The Ottoman army of eighty thousand was led by Sultan Mehmed II. The city's defensive force numbered around seven thousand.  They resisted the siege for about a month before the formidable walls finally crumbled under the assault of the newly minted cannons.  The last great emperor Constantine XI, was valiant in his efforts to preserve the city, tirelessly fighting alongside the soldiers and citizens in its defense.  It is said that when the wall was finally breached, Constantine rushed headlong into the flood of the enemy and was never seen again.

As the invaders poured into the city, I wanted to cry.

Nice work, Mehmed II.

The Ottomans burned, slaughtered, raped, and thusly desecrated a thousand years of art, libraries, artifacts, history, philosophy and scholarly work by the most cultured people in all of Europe and Asia at the time. It was the only city, not to have suffered a successful invasion in the thousand plus year since it was established by Constantine the Great in 324 AD, and though it had its fair share of internal strife and bouts of iconoclasm (destruction of holy relics) it was largely intact. Ironically, once the ash settled in the ruined city, Sultan Mehmed II, sniffed away tears brought on by the destruction of the city (or perhaps some ash got in his eyes?) and claimed the title Caesar of the Roman Empire. The emperor of rubble and blood.

The exodus of the B.E.'s citizens brought them west, and Lars' credits this influx of people with giving rise to the cultural flowering known as the Renaissance.

Never before have I found history so interesting and engaging (fun?), and so easy to draw parallels to modern day as from Lars' books. It seems that often historians simply don't possess the rhetoric necessary to reach someone outside the circle of people they're trying to impress—or maybe they're just so inundated with the dates, names, and desire to be comprehensive, that assembling the pieces in the reader's mind is nigh impossible, at least for a lay person like me.


Noteworthy:
Several of the Byzantine Emperors were successful in reining in the power of the aristocracies. Some were ruthless in their taxation of the very rich to finance wars, public building projects, etc. During these times the empire flourished. The aristocracies were vast reservoirs of wealth. The Emperors who broke through the dams, and could keep the waters of wealth flowing, saw the empire replenished and flourishing. When the aristocracies, often through treachery, put their people on the throne the empire dried and decayed. The aristocrats gobbled up all the arable land and forced the working class into extreme hard labor to scratch out an existence as the empire's defense and infrastructure rotted.

Good-bye, Aunt Patti

Charley's Aunt Patti passed away recently from cancer. It struck and felled her in the space of a few months. The first indication that she was sick was when she declined our invitation for Thanksgiving dinner this past year. I sent out an evite and she responded in the negative. However, evite still updated her whenever I tweaked anything on the invitation. Worried that we hadn't got the message, Patti decided to call. She sounded shaky, which wasn't unusual for her, she was a private person and always sounded a little nervous talking on the phone. I told her I did see that she declined and how much we would miss her.

We used to see Aunt Patti weekly for Sunday dinner at my in-laws, which turned to bi-weekly after the kids came, then rarely after we stopped going due to just being tired parents. Then my in-laws moved and Sunday dinners became a thing of the past.

Patti’s voice broke when she told me she wasn't feeling well. Oh no, this isn't just a bug. I asked if there was anything she needed and reiterated that we would miss her and hoped she would be feeling better. Unsettled, Patti made a hasty but polite end to the call. I had a lump in my belly. That was the last time I heard her voice.

It wasn't long before the official word was that Patti had cancer and that it was advanced and terminal. Patti refused chemo, a horror unto itself, and exited her life on her own terms. She refused to let us see her, afraid that all the memories of her tidy and pretty at Sunday dinner, or her glowing in her Irish dancing regalia would be overwritten by seeing her ravaged by cancer. I didn't care what she looked like, but I wanted to hug her once more and say good-bye. I considered taking the kids and barging in, but good sense prevailed and I didn't—barely. It might have been good for us, but it would have brought her discomfort having been exposed in this frail condition.

News of her passing brought grief intermingled with relief. I knew she was suffering horribly, but I also worried for my mother-in-law, Carol. She had been staying with her sister in her last weeks, caring for her, helping her to get her home and affairs in order, and just keeping Patti comfortable and comforted in the thought that she wouldn't die alone. Carol was glad to be able to spend time with her sister before she died, but it also had be traumatic and difficult. Carol bore it with her usual resilience and grace that astounds me. Carol has the gentlest soul, yet she is the toughest person I know. In most cases, the grit of the toughness wears the gentle right out of a person, but not her.

Donate to Dove Lewis

A person as private as Patti can be difficult to get to know. But I felt I did know her, or at least I knew the parts she wanted me to know. First and foremost in her life was her animals. At the time of her death she had but one cat, but in years past her house was a shelter of sorts for wayward cats and dogs. She simply couldn't refuse an animal in need. Her house suffered for the lack of genteel pets, but Patti never let that stop her loving, unloved animals. One year, instead of giving us gifts, she donated to Dove Lewis Emergency Animal Hospital in our name. That was so Patti.

Patti liked to travel. Which surprised me, because she is so particular. I wouldn't have guessed that she would adapt well to the fluid nature of travel, but she did. She took trips to Ireland and many stops throughout the US. She gave my girls teddy bears one year for Christmas, that used to travel with her and bring her comfort on the road.

Patti was an Irish lady. Her family name was Irish and she identified with this part of her heritage. She joined an Irish dancing group and once we got to see her group perform. She hopped and tapped and kicked and looked lovely in her outfit. She found relatives still living in Ireland and went to visit them several years ago. She has many books about Ireland and many of her things (the ones not sporting cats) were often adorned with celtic knots and shamrocks.

Patti was beautiful. I saw pictures of Patti from Carol's wedding day and was stunned at what beautiful girls they were. Both women are slight with golden hair, fair skin, and delicate features. I thought they looked like movie starlets. Carol told me once that Patti had a lot of male admirers as a teenage girl, that one boy was knocking on the front door while another slipped out the back. I’m sure the boys were well behaved and it wasn't the scandal one could infer today. As I said before, Patti was a particular person.

Patti was passionate about her garden. Whenever I asked her what she’s been up to lately, “Oh, I've been working in my garden,” was the usual reply. When Carol would go visit her, they often worked in her garden together.

The original mischief maker.  Good thing he's so cute.

Patti never had children. Charley is certain he's the reason for that. Spending time around a mischievous toddler is a good test of parenting readiness—another thing that Patti did on her own terms.

Patti loved my kids. Boots in particular. Boots loves to write letters and send pictures to friends and relatives, and Patti was very moved by this gesture and often wrote her back. Her letters were warm, and would often include a fact or clippings from a magazine about an animal and a request for her to draw and send her back a picture, which Boots was always pleased to do. Patti, like Boots , was the oldest of two girls and she felt a special kinship with her. This past Christmas, she asked Boots, as “the oldest of my sister’s grandchildren”, to write her and let her know what everyone might like for Christmas gifts. Boots wrote her a long letter telling her all about the likes of Mimi, Sam, Berzo and herself.

Charley and I will miss you.
My girls will miss you.
Rest well.

With Love,

Ever thought about becoming a foster parent? Me too—it took me about ten seconds to talk myself out of it. However, there are people who think it over then, put themselves through the rigorous application process wait for the phone to ring. It's usually not long before it does, sometimes in the middle of the night. I'm in awe of these families and grateful that they provide loving care to kids that need it most. Even though becoming a foster parent isn't right for my family, I still want to help. I also want to express my gratitude to those who do. Through With Love, we can all glorify foster care families.

With Love, is a non-profit, volunteer run organization that provides clothes, furniture, supplies, even toys and books for foster care families from birth to age five. Foster care families can come into the store and leave with the supplies they need for the children in their care at no expense all packaged With Love.

With Love, was founded by Allie Roth, a member of a group I attend. She gave our talk that day and laid bare her painful road to the joys of motherhood. All of which left her wondering, Who was I before all this? A feeling most mothers, me included, can identify with. Instead of holding on to her pain she decided to dedicate her loses, With Love, to foster care parents willing to open their homes to kids in need of a safety and stability.

Can you spot the kiddo?

Allie established With Love and started taking donated items. Her home was quickly overrun with clothes, furniture, supplies. At one point she had a room filled with five cribs and no place for her newest little girl. She knew there were other moms out there in a vast untapped talent pool who, like her, felt the call to contribute to something beyond their families and jobs. She put these talented women to work organizing, managing, and otherwise helping her run this new venture. Cars came and went in streams as women picked up clothing to launder and drop off clean items, and dropped into help with bundle and sort items. This left Allie humorously concerned that her neighbors might be wondering what it was she was trafficking.

Today, Allie has reclaimed her house, and With Love has moved into a warehouse location.

Hearing Allie speak, her words resonated. What could I do With Love, to make a positive impact in my community? What talents do I posses with which to help others? For many it will be joining Allie and her growing community of moms (dads and kids are welcome too!) for me it is using my words as a conduit for spreading her infectious energy to all that would feel the call to glorify foster care children and parents.

Freshly bundled items!

If you have little ones, save outgrown clothing items from newborn to size eight. They are always in special need of boys clothes size two-T to eight. If you go shopping for your baby, grab one bag of wipes for you and one for With Love. If your budget allows, a monetary donation goes a long way in a one-hundred percent volunteer run organization. If your schedule is flexible, sign up to help out at the store, creating bundles of clothes or sorting items, while enjoying some social time with other parents. You are encouraged to bring your kids to volunteer, and watch their confidence grow as their little hands do great works.

Check them out online. Like them on Facebook. Give them a helping hand in the name of someone you have loved and lost. Honor their memory by honoring foster care children and parents—With Love.