The Beast, the Emperor and the Milkman: A Bone-shaking Tour through Cycling’s Flemish Heartlands

by Harry Pearson

Cycling is wildly popular all over Belgium, but in the northern, Dutch-speaking half of the country it is part of the psyche. Tiny Flanders boasts a population of just 6 million, yet this small corner of northwest Europe has produced eight winners of the Tour de France, five times as many professional riders as Italy or Spain. Blending reportage, interviews, observation, biography, and history, and written with affectionate humor by a committed Belgophile, The Beast, the Emperor and the Milkman tells the story of Flanders' neurotic love affair with bike racing, from tough early heroes such as Jules Vanhevel--wounded by mortar fire in World War I and leading the world championship road race until he collided with a cow--to latter-day ironmen such as Tom Boonen, three-times winner of the Tour of Flanders and owner of a pet donkey named Kamiel.

Genres: Cycling, Nonfiction, Sports, Travel, Belgium

272 pages, Hardcover

Published April 9, 2019

Reviews

[Gumble's Yard - Golden Reviewer · Rating 4 out of 5]

“I suspect that if Charles De Coster had written his tale of sixteenth-century Flemish trickster Tijl Uilenspiegel today it would have opened up with the line “In spring in Flanders when the posters for the Ronde go up”

In many ways a similar book to For the Love of the Cobbles I found this an excellent account of the Flemish spring season (to preserve his Flemish slant – Pearson decides to watch Paris Roubaix in a Belgian bar rather than crossing the border). I also appreciated that he watched the races and did not attempt to ride the routes.

The book is written in a series of chronological chapters – the first covers a cyclo cross race, the second Omloop Het Nieuwsblad, and then we have Kuurne Brussels Kuurne, Le Samyn, Dwaars door West-Vlaanderen, Omloop van Wetteren/Omloop van het Waasland/Nokere Koerse, Dwars door Vlaanderen/E3 Harelbeke, Gent Wevelgem, Driedaagse De Panne, The Ronde, Scheldeprijs (before Roubaix).

The book is written around the 2017 season for a period where the author stayed in Belgium, following as many cycle races as possible and when he can visiting statues/monuments to professional cyclists.

I found that the book managed to contain enough information to I think enthuse (or at least intrigue) someone new to the sport, while remaining informative and interesting for those, like me, more than familiar with it and who have even watched some of the races.

Perhaps the author’s most noticeable watching experience was a trip to the Muur for what should have been a largely processional ascent but ended up with a Boonen attack which instigated an astonishing win by Gilbert – this also though contained the most egregious error in the book as he lists the 14 man breakaway that went on the Muur as containing Sagan and Van Avermaet (where it was precisely the absence of these two huge pre-race favourites – not paying attention in the middle of the pack – which defined the race).

[Annette · Rating 2 out of 5]

Ik ben dan wel geen Vlaming, maar wel opgegroeid in Zeeuws-Vlaanderen met een wielerliefhebbende vader. Al als peuter zat ik naast hem op de bank mee te kijken naar de vele koersen. Op de weg, in het veld. Blijkbaar was "Meneer de Bie gaat dat niet leuk vinden!" genoeg om mij mijn bord te laten leegeten en was "Apoetaparov" een van mijn eerst woordjes. De liefde voor de koers is nooit meer verdwenen. Vorig jaar verraste mijn vader me met Sinterklaas dan ook met dit boek.

Helaas was dit boek niet wat ik ervan gehoopt en verwacht had. Wielrennen is wat mij betreft een sport van verhalen. Meer nog dan andere sporten staat deze sport bol van dramatiek, heroïek en tragiek. Je kan hierover de prachtigste verhalen vertellen. Verhalen die je doen huilen, doen lachen, doen geloven in het goede van de mens, of juist het slechte van de mens. Verhalen over supporters ook, voor wie de sport meer is dan een sport, maar bijna een religie.

Dit boek doet dat niet. Het is over het algemeen een hele droge opsomming van feitjes en palmaressen die met een druk op de knop ook op wikipedia zijn terug te vinden. Hoewel de journalist ter plaatse het wielrennen is gaan beleven, spat die beleving niet van de pagina's. Waarschijnlijk juist omdat het een journalist is geweest die heeft geprobeerd te verklaren waar de beleving vandaan komt, wat een Flandrien is en die dat geprobeerd heeft objectief op te schrijven.

Maar die beleving kan je nooit recht doen als je deze alleen objectief beschrijft en probeert te verklaren. Beleving is namelijk per definitie niet objectief. Beleving is niet gebaseerd op feiten en op gebeurtenissen uit het verleden. Mijn liefde voor de koers beschrijven door mijn favoriete renners en hun erelijsten op te sommen zou echt onrecht doen aan die liefde. Die draait daar absoluut niet om. Dus, wie een boek weet waar die beleving wel echt gevat wordt: Ik hou me aanbevolen!

[Walker · Rating 4 out of 5]

I greatly appreciate and want to know every detail of how this author convinced his newspaper employer to let him just bumble around Belgium following the Spring Cycling calendar in 2017; watching the races, wandering around small towns, looking at the architecture and exploring Flandrian history, drinking at every hour of the day, and just having good fun.

“The barman watched, put down the glass he was polishing, and shrugged, “you want another one?” The beer I had been drinking was 9.5%. ‘If I have another you’ll have to carry me to the train,’ I told him. The barman looked out the window. ‘It’s only 100 meters.’”

May we all live with the same joy.

But, like, only read this if you’re really into cycling. There are more Belgian name drops than should be legal.

[Natalie · Rating 4 out of 5]

Entertaining and informative - fun reading alongside the cobbled classics happening in real life. Shame I wasn't into cycling earlier while living in Belgium. If anyone needs a chuckle go check out a tumblr site called uglybelgianhouses.

[Davy Buntinx · Rating 3 out of 5]

Toffe verhalen, maar als Vlaamse wielerliefhebber weinig nieuws. Ook was verwarrend en onsamenhangend geschreven, wat een nogal chaotische indruk achterliet. Voor buitenlanders waarschijnlijk een zeer intrigerende intrede in onze volkssport.

[Mike Finch · Rating 2 out of 5]

Interesting subject but poorly written. It takes special skill to make this important subject matter so uninteresting.

[Frans Floris · Rating 2 out of 5]

There is no excuse for the amount of stuff that got lost in translation in this book. Any Flemish person would have spotted a myriad of mistakes upon reading it. Seems like no proofreading whatsoever took place. Worst bit was when Frank Vandenbroucke was labeled as FVB instead of VDB, it was extremely cringeworthy.

The factual errors make it impossible to really enjoy the book, because after a while you start doubting every single detail the author writes.

[Elke · Rating 2 out of 5]

Entertaining, but not really funny. Although he tries to be, extremely hard.
Such a pain to see so many spelling mistakes in Dutch. Do people still proofread books???

[Wendy · Rating 3 out of 5]

A book full of info about flanders cycling history.

[Chris Rando · Rating 5 out of 5]

The book you didn't know you needed about the races happening in the country you never cared about.
(Light spoilers ahead,


Coming off of (the disconnected mess of) Bobke, Bob Roll's 90s scrapbook of cycling in Euro races, A Dog In a Hat (American Joe Parkin's account of a career spent racing in Belgium), and Phil Gaimon's Draft Animals (where you can take the jock out of America, but you can't take the "bro" image out of the sport), I'd covered three memoirs and one sort of sourcebook w/r/t cycling reading, and I found myself wanting something from a real journalist on the scene rather than a rider looking to supplement his retirement.

Though the autobio accounts were entertaining, and taught me that A) Drugs are commonplace, B) there was once a place in the world for a cyclist who really got after it and wanted to sign on for low pay with a European team, C) these athletes simply cannot write with much wit or insight about their sport -- the few author/riders who are educated enough to turn a phrase weren't trained in it... They trained in cycling, else we'd have nothing to read about. What's that mean? It's dry. It sometimes reads like amateur copy. The writer who admires or idolizes sport will certainly delight us with their missives more often than the sportsman who picks up a pen...

So here's Harry Pearson with a recent (2017 or 2018 season) account of real races and their history and their current state, right down in the rain and grit and broken cobblestones of Belgium's national sport.

He's got some great insights many non-Europeans wouldn't know: Showing up to win a stage of the Tour de France/ Vuelta España/ Giro D'Italia is partly how you cement your name as a winner, but these aren't the real contests. They're like the Superbowl and World Series when we're maybe more interested in the little pennant runs and rivalries that led up to the championships. Those being these one-day circuit or city-to-city races where you're in it for yourself, not necessarily the team, but some combination of prestige and pay and résumé building. And of these, Harry concentrates on a subset run through cold, wet, dirty Belgium countryside and no-account towns.

(If you're familiar with the culture and the classic races, you'll probably find even more to love.)

And it's this place, particularly Flanders (the Dutch-speaking industrial region of northern Belgium) that he's so adept at illustrating in his accounts of hardscrabble farm boys winning town square races to move up in ranks in hopes of keeping the family farm in business. The pre-WWI and WWII countrified bulwarks of the bicycle scene gave rise to the sport, the business, and the idolizing of the riders to the point where the early champions from humble beginnings inspired neighboring cities and countries to churn out their own more sophisticated riders, though by now the idea of powering your simple machine through bad weather and hardship to prove yourself was a point of Flemish and Belgian national identity (the region never being fully independent and having been batted about between different European rulers is part -- Pearson convinces you -- of the people's need to claim something uniquely theirs.)

Though this is part travelogue -- Pearson meets and speaks with a range of people, comments on fashion and cuisine and cycling shrines and museums -- he's really here to express his fascination with a country that's been developing and hosting bicyclists, cycling culture, and cycling events for 125 years, and how that's changed (or been maintained) through the decades in a place where a sports fan might follow their favorite cyclists around the country (or continent) with the zeal of a lifelong baseball fan, and the fanaticism of a Deadhead following their band on tour.

Don't want to sign up for a history lesson (though it's quite a good one)? Okay, well picture this Englishman who presents himself in this very Jeremy Clarkson/James May way, stumbling through small-b Belgium, chatting up townsfolk, and making jokes about the Belgians' tone-deafness to pop culture (a passage about the loudspeakers playing American hip-hop but the locals not understanding what it was saying still brings tears to my eyes 🤣) or their general other-worldliness in American/British eyes, which shouldn't be taken to mean he makes fun of them -- there is great admiration here at times, and in the end, he's spent part of his life embedded as a Flemish cycling fan. Quipping, reporting the straight facts, or bemoaning the rest of Europe's decadence and cynicism compared to the purists he finds here, it's all really quite funny, light, informative.

He has three modes:
history,
current state of cycling, and
the musings of a man trying to understand it by living amongst it.
There's not much cycling play-by-play action to be had (though indeed there are some anecdotes)... there's Velo News or something for the old-school race writeup. But if two out of those three appeal to you, you'll probably really enjoy it.

[Joe O'Donnell · Rating 4 out of 5]

Harry Pearson could spend a drizzly day in a windswept bus shelter on the outskirts of Brussels and still manage to produce an account of his experiences that was filled with wit and warmth. Anybody familiar with his books on Non-League Football or Cricket in the North-East of England would be aware of Pearson’s ability to weave gold from seemingly threadbare material. In “The Beast, The Emperor and the Milkman”, he takes another topic that some might see as unprepossessing and unpromising: the history of Cycling in the Flanders region of Belgium.

The country of Belgium tends to get a bad rap, often unfairly maligned as a nation of petty bureaucrats and taciturn dullards. As Harry Pearson relates, this is even more the case for the Flemings of Flanders – a people known for their gritty, no-nonsense, stubborn character. Basically, they’re ‘Hard Bastards’ – imagine Glaswegians or Yorkshiremen who put mayonnaise on their chips – and, as Pearson sees it, this gruff, obstinate nature makes them the perfect people for the merciless-bordering-on-masochistic sport of Cycling. The region of Flanders is utterly obsessed with Cycling (as Pearson writes: “The Flemish love of cycling is a form of lunacy”), and over the last century they have probably produced more world class professional cyclists per head of population than anywhere else on Earth.

Readers who are not hardcore aficionados of Belgian Cycling might be relieved to hear “The Beast, The Emperor and the Milkman” is not solely a sports book. Harry Pearson undertakes a historical, sociological, and even culinary journey through the Lowlands – an expedition he navigates by attending the main races of the Flemish Cycling calendar. Pearson has an unimpeachable eye for a cracking anecdote, and he introduces us to such compelling characters from the annals of Belgian Cycling as the shady, borderline-criminal Rik Van Steenbergen and the pugnacious Walter Godefroot (aka ‘The Bull of Flanders’). Whether you are a Cycling nut, know nothing of the sport, or are more a fan of the joys of drinking 9%-strength Belgian beer at 10 o’clock in the morning, you will find “The Beast, The Emperor and the Milkman” a rollicking read.

[Windy2go · Rating 4 out of 5]

I chose to read this book because I was moving to Belgium. I'm not into cycling. Really not at all. But Harry Pearson's writing style and eye for interesting details made the voyage through the world of Flemish cycling really enjoyable and informative. This book introduced me to all kinds of interesting cultural details for which I am really grateful and has enriched my experience of Belgium. For example, I met a woman who said her husband was from a biking family, and when she told me the name of her brother-in-law, I knew who he was! I would NEVER have known that without this book. When I stopped into a bakery in Flanders, I knew to try the mattetart. Only because of this book. I view the cobbled streets with a new eye, thanks to Harry Pearson.

I don't know if I would want to read it if I were not living in Belgium, but it was a thoroughly enjoyable read. I will recommend it to people who are coming to visit, and more especially, to outsiders moving to Belgium.

Here are two quotes to give a flavor: "The Flemish like toughness, obduracy and fortitude; guts, nuts and phlegm. Their biggest bike races are held between the end of February and the beginning of April. They could have organised them in the late summer when, historically, the great Tours were over, the weather is warm and balmy, the cobbles dry and almost benign and there are no great puddles concealing potholes deep enough to trap a wild pig in. But what would be the fun in that?"

or
"Cyclocross is one of those things that at first glance appears a trifle nuts, but which on closer inspection is revealed to be totally insane."

[James · Rating 3 out of 5]

As one would expect from a Pearson book this had biography, wry observations and taking public transport to experience events, but there wasn't quite enough variety for me to be that invested in it.

He covered one Flandrian Classics season, travelling to assorted towns, bars, and roadside points, and reporting on the races he followed and the racers whose statues and tributes he saw. His peoplewatching was, as ever, entertaining, although as with Tim Moore's travels I found that the language barrier limited the scope of his interactions and potential for more laughs. I got somewhat of a feel for the various places, and the background to Flanders and the ruling class was interesting and new to me.

However I can recall very little of the former cyclists profiled, who collectively all seemed quite similar despite their quirks. At the time each profile was interesting enough, but the similarities between strong stage racers outweigh their differences. From the eurodance to the fatty pastry, I did get a feel for the culture however, and it did feel as though Pearson was in a place where cycling is a huge sport rather than a middle-class pastime, which almost made a fairly dull and cold region in early spring sound appealing.

Given he has written a book previously about the region I had expected him to have a better grasp of the language and I think that would have enriched what was a generally good book. Instead, it was amusing travelogue in an unsual destination mixed with mildly repetitive biographies and wasn't as good as I'd hoped for.

[Matt · Rating 4 out of 5]

I really enjoyed this - I would say a good lockdown read except it makes you want to pack a flask and an anorak and stand on a wet street corner in Belgium. I have no real interest in cycling but even did a virtual Tour of Flanders on my exercise bike afterwards (took 4 days). It’s a bit too long and on audiobook it’s difficult to keep up with all the names but the reading by the author is very good, a bit like sitting in the pub with him. One thing that was weird is that there was no mention of doping until halfway through the book and then only really skirted round after that - that’s fine that it is not moralizing but maybe would have been good to know what he thinks. Final thing is that Harry loves an affectionate metaphor just as much as Alan Bennett would like a Werthers original on an old comfy sofa, but after a while they start to grate a bit in the audio format - in print probably not such an issue. I read the Far Corner years ago and will try some more of his books - they have a nice feel good factor.

[Phil · Rating 4 out of 5]

In preparation for the spring classics, I read Harry Pearson's book.
It is both a cycling book, and a travelogue about spending 6 weeks in 2017 in Belgium from the last of the cyclo cross race in February until Paris roubaix, going to approximately a race every 3 days, visiting statues.

As well as his misadventures, he explores cyclists from the area.

I really enjoyed it.
The mysteries investigated include why does every one love Jasper stuyven, why are they indifferent towards stijn devolder, how much Belgian beer can be consumed in 6 weeks, and if you claim such beer as a tax deduction by writing a book about it will the hmrc allow the deduction (ok that was not answered, but that is my question)

[Jeff Parry · Rating 5 out of 5]

Travelogue Come Bike History

This is equal parts bike history, travelogue and an ode to Flemish grit and determination. The Tour de France may get the publicity but, for true cycling fans, Flanders in the spiritual home of cycling, the Valhalla of the sport.

This follows the author around the Flemish classics in 2017. You have a write up of the races, a history of Flemish cycling and the heroes it spawned. It is not just about cycling though but the story of a love affair with this particular region and its people.

Highly recommended for fans and those with no knowledge.

[Chris Howland · Rating 5 out of 5]

What a fantastic book! It was short listed for a sports book of the year (2019) award, but it wasn't the winner. That makes me wonder what did win, if this gem was somehow judged to be inferior.
The book is a mixture of the authors story, attending the spring racing seasons major events across Flanders, together with a great deal of the history of the races, the cyclists who took part and the many people he met.
I'm a keen cyclist and so may be biased, but this is possibly the best sports book I've ever read.

[Vijay Ramesh · Rating 4 out of 5]

Harry Pearson is an extremely witty writer. I thoroughly enjoyed this book, which many might consider 'dry', as he peppered facts about cycling and Belgium with the sarcastic British humor that I love.

As cricket is to India, cycling is to Belgium. Learning about Van Looy, Van Steenbergen and lesser known riders (relative to Merckxx) was really interesting. And the stories behind their success and failures!

I recommend reading this book if you are a fan of cycling and sport. Else, you might find this boring!

[Sara Bainbridge · Rating 3 out of 5]

having just been to Flanders (and spending a Saturday afternoon in February at a cyclocross event on the coast), I really enjoyed this book for the insight into Flemish attitudes to cycling. I found the focus on a particular race for each chapter, and the contemporary experience of watching each one a good structure. I felt confused by the profiles of former cyclists and their victories/careers - as these were harder to follow and remember and sometimes felt a bit repetitive.

[Ipswichblade · Rating 4 out of 5]

Love Harry Pearson books and this is no different. Harry loves cycling and this is a history of cycling in Belgium especially Flemish cyclists. It is interwoven with him reporting from races in the cycling calendar. I have little or no interest in cycling but still found this book a really interesting and informative read

[Sam Vanhoutte · Rating 4 out of 5]

Being a cycling fan, living in Flanders and riding the bike myself, this was a book I got from my wife for my birthday. I got the translated version (to Dutch) and it really was entertaining, well written and a good translation. What I liked the most was the view from an outsider on the entire culture of Flanders and its cycling.

[Ian Thomson · Rating 3 out of 5]

Decent, easy read. Some funny anecdotes. Great info for cycling fans that might not know too much about races beyond the grand tours. Tends to become a tad repetitive as the author documents his journeys across Flanders to watch the region’s spring bike races. Worthwhile for the background info on legendary Flemish riders and some interesting tidbits about Belgian history. Baarle-Hertog, anyone?

[Michael Conland · Rating 3 out of 5]

I'm not much of a cycling fan and was bought this as part of a gift (triathlon themed set of books). That being said, I still quite enjoyed it. It's an accessible dive into what is clearly a passion project and it's presented in an irreverent style which suits the material.

My god I suffered with all the Flemish names though. No wonder all these riders and places have nicknames...

[Tara · Rating 4 out of 5]

A travel memoir, set against the Belgian spring cycling racing calendar. I found it to be a lovely book: part travelogue, part Belgian history, and part cycling history. The author's genuine love for the hard, cold and muddy races, and the men who race them, shines through. The book is not for everyone, but if you have any interest in professional cycling and/or Belgium, I recommend.

[George · Rating 5 out of 5]

This was a really great book. It took me a minute to get past the Flemish names, but once I figured out how to roll with them, it went much quicker and I was able to focus on the author’s strong prose and gentle wit. Above all, I learned so much about the Belgian love of cycling as well as the incredible impact that small country has had on the sport. Highly recommended.

[David Roberts · Rating 4 out of 5]

Really enjoyed this, covers regional language, history, politics, frites, Belgian beer and of course some cycling and perhaps more enjoyably the cycling spectators of Belgium which seems to be every Flandrian or Walloon with a pulse. Definitely recommended.

[Luke · Rating 5 out of 5]

Loved this book. Unintentionally I'd manages to read it during Classics season so if seemed very timely. His understated wit and observations are wonderful as is his easy way of imparting information.

[Lucian Stănescu · Rating 4 out of 5]

thoroughly enjoyed and can warmly recommend it. but then looking at other reviews you cannot but notice how different we all are so don't do as I say, go through it by yourself and decide in accordance with your own set of rules and values :)

[Tom · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was tough going, it reads like the ramblings of Abe Simpson. I found the deep dive into obscure Belgian riders overwhelming and barely remember anything of their rapidfire histories.

In saying that, I do now want to visit Belgium again and check out a spring classic or cyclocross.

[Kim Hayes · Rating 4 out of 5]

I love the TDF and love Belgian Flanders, so although I bought the book for my husband, I knew I would enjoy it too! And I did! For anyone that has spent anytime in Flanders, the scenes are instantly recognisable as are the many bike races that just seem to pop up in random towns and villages. Made me want to go back.