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Marco Polo: Journey to the End of the Earth

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The incredible story of Marco Polo's journey to the ends of the earth has for the last seven hundred years been beset by doubts as to its authenticity. Did this intrepid Venetian really trek across Asia minor as a teenager, explore the length and breadth of China as the ambassador of the ruthless dictator, Kublai Khan, and make his escape from almost certain death at the hands of Kublai Khan's successors? Robin Brown's book aims to get to the truth of Marco Polo's claims. Covering his early life, his extraordinary twenty-four-year Asian epic and his reception in Italy on his return, "Marco Polo" places the intrepid Venetian in context, historically and geographically. What emerges confirms the truth of Polo's account. Polo, scholars now agree, opened vistas to the medieval mind and stirred the interest in exploration that prompted the age of the European ocean voyages. All who now enjoy the fruits of Marco Polo's incredible journey through Asia - whether in the form of spectacles, fireworks, pasta or any of the many products of the Silk Road - will find in Robin Brown-Lowe's book a fascinating portrait of a man who made history happen by bringing about the meeting of East and West.

256 pages, Paperback

First published April 1, 2007

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Robin Brown

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Profile Image for Paolo Ventura.
375 reviews2 followers
July 17, 2024
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I was told that in ancient times the kings of this country were born with the mark of the eagle on their right shoulder, suggesting perhaps that they were a branch of the imperial family of Constantinople who have the Roman eagle among their insignia.
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I found the Mahometans an unprincipled and treacherous lot who believe their faith allows them to keep the goods stolen or plundered from those of other faiths.
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The people in some of these Persian districts are savage and bloodthirsty and think nothing of wounding and murdering each other. Thankfully they live in terror of the Eastern Tartars who are in charge here, otherwise no merchant would be safe from them.
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I must tell you of an observation I made: due to the thinness of the air, fires do not give out the same heat as they would at lower altitudes, nor do they cook food so well.
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During these extended funerary processions to the deceased’s grave site his escort kill (or rather sacrifice) such persons as they may chance to meet along the way. ‘Depart for the next world and there attend your deceased master,’ the unfortunates are told.
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And you cannot help but admire the loyalty of the husbands to their wives. Even though there may be ten or twenty of them, they maintain a quiet union among themselves that is admirable.
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[…] and the idolaters have Sogomombarkan. I honour and respect all four and look for help to whomsoever among them is supreme in heaven.’
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About thirty or forty are usually selected for the Grand Khan to have his way with. Ahead of that, however, these chosen few are placed in the care of the wives of certain noblemen who watch them at night to make sure they have no concealed imperfections, do not snore, have sweet breath and are free of unpleasant body odours.
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The many people who serve the Grand Khan with his food and drink are required to cover their noses and mouths with beautiful veils of worked silk so that their breath may not affect his victuals.
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These people believe themselves to be immortal in the sense that when a person dies the soul enters into another body. If the person has acted virtuously or wickedly in his lifetime he can expect a like host.
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Each man of rank carries a small spittoon which he must use in order to avoid spitting on the floors of the hall of audience. You spit, replace the cover, then make your salutation.
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This they will swallow if caught in any delinquency. They would rather kill themselves than suffer the pain of torture. But the rulers are wise to the trick and they keep a supply of dog shit to hand which they oblige the miscreant to swallow causing them to vomit up the poison!
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I should just note here that while the people of Manji speak one language there is a great diversity of dialects, just as there is between Genoese, Milanese and Florentines.
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You also get Indian nuts [coconuts] here the size of a man’s head with an edible flesh that is as sweet and pleasant and white as milk. In the cavity of the nut is a liquor as cool as water, cooler and better flavoured than any kind of wine or any other drink you can find anywhere. That said, the natives feed upon flesh of every kind, good or bad, without distinction.
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They have one particularly repugnant custom. When a person falls sick the relatives send for sorcerers to establish whether he will recover or not. If it is decided that he won’t, they call in another team who with great dexterity, being very experienced, stop up the mouth of the poor victim until he suffocates. The body is then cut into pieces, cooked to make it more appetising, then eaten by all the relatives in an atmosphere of great conviviality. They eat everything, right down to the marrow of the bones! I asked about this custom and got the reply that if any part of the body were left over vermin would breed on it and when the vermin died they would wreak grievous punishment on the soul of the departed. Afterwards, however, the bones are collected, deposited in a small neat box and carried to a cavern in the mountains where they will be safe from disturbance by wild animals. There is a lot of eating of people going on around here. In a nearby district they eat people who are captured and cannot pay ransom.
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When they arrive at the place where he would have been executed the condemned man cries out: ‘I devote myself to death’ (for such and such an idol) and quickly thrusts home the knives; one in each thigh, one into each of his arms, two in the stomach and two into the chest and the last into his heart which of course kills him. Thereafter, and with a great deal of rejoicing, his relatives burn the body and as a gesture of love for her husband a wife will throw herself on the fire and be consumed with him.
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They present all of their gods as jet black and the devil they paint white and believe all his demons are also of that colour.
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When they need to defecate they go to a beach by the sea, do their business then immediately scatter it in all directions in order that vermin should not breed in it, believing that if such vermin were later to starve to death it would be on their conscience and a grievous fault.
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A last word on the pirates of Guzzerat who really are desperate characters. When these fellows come across a voyaging merchant they force him to drink sea water which has the effect of opening his bowels, as the pirates know that when a merchant sees them he will often attempt to conceal pearls or jewels by swallowing them.
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Did you know that because of the position of the female organs elephants copulate just like humans?
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Beyond the most distant reaches of the domains of the Tartars there are lands stretching to the utmost boundaries of the north and are described thus because for most of the long winter the sun is invisible. Conditions resemble those of our dawn, a time, if you think of it, when you can see and yet not be seen.
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[…] Marco Polo, almost the first European to see the East, saw her in all her wonder, more fully than any man has seen her since.”
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