The Emperor

After Haile Selassie was deposed in 1974, Kapuściński traveled to Ethiopia and sought out the emperor’s former courtiers, servants, and officials. He asked them to talk. What they told him, about the rituals of power, the absurdity of absolute authority, and the strange loyalty it inspires, became this book.

Why Start Here

The Emperor is Kapuściński at his most concentrated. At under 180 pages, it delivers everything that makes him essential: the oral testimony method, the literary shaping, the capacity to make a distant political collapse feel immediate and human. The voices of Selassie’s court are by turns comic, chilling, and heartbreaking. A man whose sole job was to wipe urine from the shoes of visiting dignitaries (the emperor’s dog urinated freely in the throne room). A minister who describes the elaborate system of informers as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

The book works on two levels simultaneously. It is a vivid portrait of one specific autocracy, and it is a universal anatomy of how power corrupts, insulates, and ultimately devours itself. Polish readers in 1978 understood immediately that Kapuściński was also writing about their own government. You do not need to know anything about Ethiopia or Poland to feel the force of it.

What to Expect

Short testimonial fragments, each narrated by a different courtier, woven together with Kapuściński’s spare connecting prose. The structure resembles a mosaic: each piece adds to the picture without any single voice dominating. You can read it in a single sitting, and you probably will.