This has sat on my shelf for at least 20 years. Finally got to it, or at least the first 40 pages of it, before we gave up. It had potential, but once we realized there was no plot, just monotonous description, we decided to try something else. ( )

Jan Morris is renowned for her travel books, or, rather, her books about places to which she has travelled. (She seldom describes her journeys, viewing them simply as a means to an end). This is one of her finest, with the catch being that it is, in fact, a novel, and the slightly old fashioned, cosmopolitan city state of Hav is an entirely imaginary destination. Morris gives us some clues as to its supposed location, and I have tended to think of it as being on a peninsula extending into the Mediterranean from the coast of Turkey.

It is a masterful creation, and is utterly plausible. Morris describes a stay of several months in Hav, during which she became immersed in its chaotic history. Throughout its lengthy history several different forces had invaded and overcome Hav, lending its heady cultural and ethnic pot pourri, which in turn fascinate twentieth century visitors such as Morris.

It is Morris’s attention to detail that lends this book its verisimilitude. She had previously written several similar books about ‘genuine’ cities – her description of the time she spent in Venice is something of a classic of the genre – and she applied the same approach to her creation of Hav. Indeed, in some ways the book resembles a volume from the ‘Rough Guide’ series, although they only appeared several years after Morris’s novel was published.

She writes with great simplicity and clarity – she had, after all, been a foreign correspondent for both The Times and The Guardian for most of her career. She simply describes what her character purported to see, and recounts her encounters with local inhabitants. Nothing much happens, as such, but her distillation of historical and cultural insights is a strong brew, and one that repays the reader’s attention. ( )

Prior to reading this I Googled Hav as I had never heard of it and was surprised to find that it didn't exist so I have to admit that I had some misgivings. Jan Morris writing a fictional tale in the form of a travelogue of a place that only exists in the confines of her own imagination! It's bound to be drudgery. Not so! Full of her vividly descriptive prose, Ms Morris brings to life the city of Hav and its environs in kaleidoscopic technicolour, (obviously drawing on her vast experience as a travel writer) to create a fantasy that is most believable and I, for one, was completely swept along by it. ( )

The narrator, who also happens to be the author, writes letters from the decaying, vibrant, and somewhat wacky city of Hav. Located in the eastern Mediterranean region and quite difficult to access, Hav is on the brink of a major catastrophe and the author happens to be there to capture its glory before time runs out. By the way, Hav is not a real place and this is not a traditional novel. It’s more a travel piece…about a place you can’t visit, but that’s ok, because it’s actually quite good.

Morris describes her experiences in the city and the colorful characters she encounters during her six-month stay. She also dips into the rich, multicultural history of the place – influenced by the Ancient Greeks, the Arabs, Imperial Russia, the French, and more. And then there are all of the city’s famous inhabitants throughout the years, from Wagner to Trotsky to Hemingway and possibly Hitler. Even the young Freud was there in 1847, “…to search for the testes of the eel.” By its nature, the book is made up entirely of description and short, often clever, episodes. It’s all so beautifully done that I wasn’t disappointed at the complete absence of plot, and I’m happy to have read it. Recommended if you know what you’re getting yourself into. ( )

Superb and moving travel writing about an imaginary place. ( )