Murder of King Tut CD [Audio CD]

This book's title may mislead readers who, not knowing James Patterson's vast outpouring of detective fiction, expect a scholarly archaeological study of the circumstances surrounding the death of Tutankhamen, the Pharaoh popularly known as "King Tut." THE MURDER OF KING TUT is no such thing. It is a shrewd blend of fact and fiction, an airy set of variations on an Egyptian theme, told in short chapters that whiz back and forth between 1300 BC, the 1920s and the present day.

Patterson and Martin Dugard are not shy about touting the amount of research they put into this concoction, but the reader who is not himself an Egyptologist will have to be on constant alert to distinguish fact from fiction. Did Tut really marry his own sister?

The basic historical framework is well known --- the attempt by Tut's father Akhenaten to turn Egypt away from polytheism to the worship of a single god by building a new capital city dedicated to that god and far removed from Thebes, the ancient capital. Tutankhamen became Pharaoh as a child, ruled for only a decade or so and died under circumstances that Patterson and Dugard see as a murder plot spawned by Tut's failure to produce a male heir to the throne. They finger three villains: Tut's younger sister whom he married in an unsuccessful effort to produce the needed heir, a villainous general and an equally sneaky high-level "grand vizier." There is a smattering of rather sanitized sex in the book and a satisfactory amount of blood and gore, delivered rather casually. A good many people end up being beheaded or with their throats cut, as was evidently the ancient Egyptian custom in matters of high state policy.

The authors tell their story in a series of tiny chapters --- 100 of them, plus prologue and epilogue in a book of 332 pages. The palace intrigue thread is counterpointed by the story of Howard Carter, the English Egyptologist who uncovered the tomb. Carter left a detailed narrative of his work, from which Patterson and Dugard quote liberally. They have, however, gone well beyond Carter's own account, embroidering and elaborating the story with invented scenes and picturesque stage-setting. I was reminded while reading of an Abraham Lincoln exhibit I once attended in which a pair of eyeglasses was displayed with this caption: "Lincoln seldom wore glasses, but if he had, they might have looked something like these."

My guess is that Patterson did the writing while Dugard served mainly as researcher. The book reads easily as the brief chapters glide by --- a bag of literary popcorn. The writing style is breezily modern. Patterson, clever fellow, even manages to work in a plug for himself, quoting Time Magazine's description: "the man who can't miss."

On the day I read this book, it was announced that James Patterson has signed a deal with his publisher for 17 new books, and early in this one he reports that in his study there lay manuscripts of 24 books lying around in various unfinished states. To call this man prolific would be like describing Babe Ruth as a baseball player.

This latest book in that literary tidal wave may be described as a kind of historically based entertainment. One doubts that the question of how and why Tutankhamen died figures on anybody's list of top priority concerns these days, but Patterson and Dugard have turned it into a pleasant afternoon's escapist diversion. It may melt away quickly in the mind and memory, but, like popcorn, it leaves a distinctive aftertaste.

--- Reviewed by Robert Finn

James Patterson should not have lent his name to this book. Why did he do it? Was it greed or bad judgement? Or perhaps both? I don't know, but THE MURDER OF KING TUT is most certainly unreadable--a juvenile sleight-of-hand non fiction that abuses Mr Patterson's reputation as a writer of fiction, and a cruel joke on those willing to invest their time and money on a writer they've come to admire, enjoy and trust.

Paterson paints a false portrait of Howard Carter, showing him as a difficult and disagreeable man, without considering or even realizing that almost immediately after Carter's discovery of the tomb, he and his party were victimized by a deluge of humanity. Newspaper correspondents flocked into the valley dispelling any opportunity to get down to the business of excavation. Standing knee deep in artifacts that would shatter into dust at the slightest touch, Carter had to fend off visitors of every stripe. The visitors came armed with guide books, gawking and descending on workers who tried to emerge from the tomb with delicate artifacts. There were American students with their jazz age slang, half drunk from spending half the night in the bar of the Winter Palace hotel, hucksters, and reporters. On they came, an army of people, arriving on donkeys and two horse cabs , setting up camps, staking claims on the rim of the excavation, from morning until night, knitting, photographing, singing and in some cases getting quite drunk. And if all this wasn't bad enough, royalty and diplomats insisted on private tours. The Egyptian government felt obliged to grant every request for tours, forcing poor Carter to spend days away from the onerous task of labeling all of the artifacts in situ, and preserving and cataloging them. All of this would be enough to drive any sane archaeologist half mad, a fact noted by Arthur Mace, Egyptologist with the Metropolitan Museum, and co-author of Carter's published journal, when he reported that Carter was close to having a nervous breakdown. If Carter, under these circumstances seemed short-tempered, the compassionate researcher would have had to give Carter the benefit of doubt. No such generosity is found in Patterson's book--the sort of thing that happens when the biographer depends on secondary sources and willing to trade his name for research.

I do not like to slam authors, but Mr. Patterson has written a book that purports to be nonfiction, and in doing so ran the risk of having the book exposed for what it is, a sham and a lie, a silly cartoon vision of a great archaeological find, and the inexcusable defamation of an honored British Archaeologist--Howard Carter.

Readers interested in Howard' Carter's world, Egypt of the 1920's, as well as the most exciting archaeological discovery of the Twentieth Century, should read T.G.H James's HOWARD CARTER:THE PATH TO TUTANKHAMUN. Mr. James is the former keeper of Egyptian antiquities at the Briitsh Museum, and his book is considered the ultimate authority on Howard Carter and that tumultuous period covering the discovery of Tutankhamun's tomb, and the events that followed. James is a pro and he'll keep the pages turning.

James Patterson has divided this book into three alternating storylines: the ancient life of King Tut, Howard Carter's excavation of his tomb, and the author's writing of this work, though he admits to not being interested enough to actually do any heavy research for himself. That was left up to the secondary author, and it shows. Not only is the larger thought that Tut was assassinated an old chestnut, but the actual idea of who was behind it has already been offered in real books on Egyptology, and even documentary films. It is a sin that this book is being marketed as anything but fiction, period. Patterson would have the reader believe that he not only came up with the idea of the boy king being assassinated, and who orchestrated the deed, but also that he discovered the name, personal history, and physical appearance of the lackey who actually committed the act. Ridiculous, and dishonest. I kept waiting for some type of disclaimer by Patterson, maybe even a bibliography for the reader who might want to know more, but apparently ego would not allow that. If you want to read about the theorized murder of Tutankhamun by someone who has actually spent time doing real research to back up his ideas, I recommend Bob Brier's very readable book on the subject The Murder of Tutankhamen. A final small gripe: with all of the photographs that have depicted Tut's tomb and treasures, and the existence of photos of Howard Carter, why is this book illustrated only by drawings that are children's book respectable at best?

That said, I would have still recommended this book as a decent read for someone in upper elementary school or junior high, because the reading level is certainly something he or she could easily handle. Unfortunately, the fictionalized parts also stir in a fair amount of sex, just to keep the masses reading.