Fans pick 100 books like The Day Lasts More Than a Hundred Years

In the 1990s when I worked at the British Embassy in Moscow organising social functions I met a kind, elderly, white-haired man who came to visit the ambassador. Sir Fitzroy Maclean was a distinguished former diplomat, war veteran, politician, and writer, but still he found time to chat with a lowly staff member about Soviet history – and when he got home, he sent me his book. Eastern Approaches is a captivating memoir of Maclean’s diplomatic service in the USSR during Stalin’s Terror, when he sneaked undercover into Central Asia and experienced many escapades, including run-ins with the Soviet secret police. His tales of derring-do evoke a bygone age – but his expressive portrayals of the people and landscapes of Central Asia are recognisable to anyone travelling in this alluring region today. 

This beautifully-crafted memoir beginning in 1930s Soviet-ruled Kazakhstan inspired me to seek out a survivor of the famine that tore through the land and left over a million Kazakhs dead during that traumatic decade. I found a feisty nonagenarian who recounted how she walked from Kazakhstan to China at the age of six to find food. Shayakhmetov’s book charts the famine and the accompanying destruction of the nomadic lifestyle the Kazakhs had led for generations until the iron fist of Soviet rule came crashing down. He lyrically evokes his carefree childhood as the son of nomadic herders, which came to an abrupt end when the Soviets seized their herds, corralled them into collective farms, and shot his father. Harrowing, but uplifting too – a story of survival against the odds.

The exquisite blue-domed mosques and madrasahs in the fabled Silk Road cities of Samarkand and Bukhara took my breath away when I first visited them while living in Uzbekistan in the early 2000s. But behind this dazzling façade lay an ugly truth: the persecution of thousands of Muslims incarcerated, tortured, demonised, and dehumanised for the crime of being too pious for the liking of Islam Karimov, the paranoid dictator who ruled for a quarter of a century. Bukharbayeva tracks down victims of these atrocities to give a voice to the voiceless, aiming to show the “real people behind the terrible but cold and faceless statistics of human rights abuses.” In this important chronicle that records this repression for posterity, written with passion and oozing with empathy, she succeeds beyond measure.

As I perched on the ramparts of the citadel in Khiva one sunny morning in autumn of 2001, the scene in the bazaar below of sellers hawking everything from recalcitrant sheep to giant melons and elaborately-carved furniture summoned up the exotic past of a town once traversed by caravans of merchants plying their trade between China and Europe. But what is compelling about this book is its focus not on Khiva’s illustrious history but on the present-day lives of the people the author encountered when he lived among them running a carpet-making workshop. Fascinating both for its forensic exploration of that ancient craft and for the sensitive depictions of the people of Khiva, this book is a true tale of the modern-day Silk Road.

Since the 1960s Central Asia has been the center of the largest man-made water crisis in history with the drying up of the Aral Sea. Peterson’s book, based on work in Central Asian and Russian archives, provides a long-term environmental history of irrigation and its effects in the imperial and Soviet periods up to World War II. She includes a profile of the eccentric Grand Duke Nikolai Konstantinovich Romanov, who set himself up as a local “sultan” near Tashkent, and rich material on the steep challenges that irrigation engineers faced.

I’ve traveled to many of the places that Thubron, the acclaimed travel writer and novelist, visits, but his take on them is much different from mine. He delves deep into the histories of the peoples of the steppes, mountains, and fertile agricultural regions of Central Asia, their art, architecture, belief systems, and cultures. It is a broad historical sweep, from the rise of the Mongol empire to Stalin's deportations to the wrenching economic, social, and political challenges faced by the governments and populations in the post-Soviet era. Thubron’s research is impeccable, his descriptions of places and people engaging and lyrical. 

Another nonfiction and for me, the greatest book ever written on intelligence gathering. Unlike so many other books on espionage, it does not take place in the context of the Cold War but during the time of the struggle between Britain and Russia to control the passes of central Asia.

I loved how this book brought to life the stories of intelligence agents on both sides of the struggle, how they infiltrated hostile territories, won over warlords, and often lost their heads. The action took place before modern technology when agents relied on their powers of disguise, linguistic abilities, and their instinct to detect danger before it cost them their lives.

So much of what occurs in the great game explains the modern world today, which is why I believe this book is a must-read not only for those interested in espionage but international relations in general.

Like the above, the book analyses the social consequences of the transition across the post-communist region. It tracks how painful and shocking some of its aspects were to the corresponding countries. It helps us understand why the reform overachievers, the countries that did best in reforming their economies (like Hungary and Poland), subsequently suffered some of the most pronounced political backlashes against these reforms.

The book is well-written and fun to read despite the serious topic.

This was such a fascinating read for me. It’s an epic tale told over the lifetime of a woman warrior named Akmaral that interweaves fact and folklore into a mesmerizing story about matriarchal power, the ferocity of love and hate, and the alternating currents of battle and peace.

I was so absorbed in the beautiful language of this book that I couldn’t put it down. The novel recreates the expansive, unforgiving world of 5th-century Central Asia, a setting firmly rooted in the natural and spiritual worlds and the struggle to survive.

While being dazzled by the writing, I felt like I had a crash course in ancient history as well!

I read this book when I was a teenager, and it taught me two very important things: that Enlightenment is possible—even for a Westerner—and that living Spiritual Masters exist out in the world who can help to guide you there. This helped me gather the courage to leave home and travel throughout Asia in search of my true teacher, who I eventually found in Japan. My own Remarkable Man.