Eight years ago I spent a couple of days in Lisbon. I only remembered amazing food wherever we ate, but little else. Honestly, I didn’t have high expectations beyond the food. But last year we decided to spend New Year’s in Lisbon and stayed for over a week. I was determined to give the city a real chance and learn more about it. And I’m so glad I did!
I’m also glad I somewhat blindly chose this book to accompany the trip. At first, the structure felt odd. It is not a smooth chronological narrative, but while walking the bairros and listening to walking tour guides, I found Queen of the Sea by Barry Hatton to be the perfect companion.
From fun facts about specific streets, structures, or metro stations to deeper context about Lisbon’s Muslim, monarchical, and dictatorial history, this book helped me understand the city beyond its hilly streets and amazing food. I would highly recommend this book as “THE book” to read before or while in Lisbon.
Barry Hatton is a British foreign correspondent who has lived in Lisbon for decades, and that familiarity shows. The book mixes narrative history with local stories in an engaging and readable way, including key characters from politics to the arts.
About the history of Lisbon
Hatton covers Lisbon’s pre-Roman and Roman origins, its time under Islamic rule, the Christian campaigns of the 12th century, Portugal’s Golden Age, the 1755 earthquake and the aftermath, the dictatorship of Salazar, and the Carnation Revolution. While some academic reviewers thought the early history received less depth than later periods, for me, at least, it was a nice “armchair traveler” complement to my short vacation.
Some things that stuck with me:
- Innovations introduced during Islamic rule—including architecture, science, crops, and linguistic influences in Portuguese (and Spanish)—still persist today. This made me think even more about how this Period is often discussed in Europe now: minimized, dismissed, or treated as a historical detour, despite the fact that many major agricultural and scientific advances were developed or transmitted during these centuries by the—historically called— “Moors” (I understand this is not a self-determined word, therefore the quotes). Personally, I find it difficult not to see the later Christian conquests as both violently disruptive and followed by centuries of selective memory that downplayed these contributions. That last reflection is my own, not something the book explicitly argues.
- How azulejos (ceramic tiles), though present earlier (influenced by earlier Islamic tile traditions), became a signature of Portuguese building façades much, much later.
- The coexistence of Muslims, Christians, and Jews in medieval Iberia at times, including trade and cultural exchange. After the so-called “reconquista”, in the attempt of turning Portugal into a 100% Christian nation, this coexistence was not much the case anymore, as some forms of Christianization also implied at best, exile, at worst, forced conversion or even execution.
- Lisbon’s repeated rises and falls across centuries, shaping a city that constantly reinvents itself.
- While I had heard of Portugal’s dictatorship under Antonio Salazar during the last century, I knew very little of it and the Carnation Revolution that brought that regime to an end in 1974. Both through the walking tours we did and this book, I now have a deeper appreciation of Portugal’s recent history.
Other observations from my trip
Lisbon today blends its complex histories—monuments of conquest and empire, reminders of natural disasters, and a diverse gastronomy and people. However, it was still striking to see the Padrão dos Descobrimentos (Monument of the Discoveries)—a modern, rebuilt in the 1960s, symbol of Portugal’s era of exploration. I still find it hard to read it independently from the reality of colonialism. To quote the book: “though Salazar’s name can be found on no Lisbon building or monument, his regime’s architectural legacy is all around the capital,” but the name of Vasco da Gama and the use of “time of discovery” are still often used in a seemingly uncritical way. Even the Salazar Bridge got its name changed after the Carnation Revolution, but colonial brutality seems to be remembered or displayed as the “best times of Portugal”. Again, these are some personal thoughts and not in the book, and it might be a premature comment—it was just one week, after all.
One last thing that stuck with me: the book mentions that Portugal’s slave trade from 1501 to 1875 was among the largest in Europe—almost double that of the UK!—which is a sobering truth I wasn’t aware of before reading. (I thought it was the UK.) Portugal was also the last European country to “let go” of its colonies…”officially”, anyway.
More than just history
There’s lots of fascinating Lisbon life woven in, from fado music to the feel of walking steep streets and riding public elevators to navigate the hilly neighborhood of Alfama and Mouraria. The food, weather, and friendliness still enamored me.
For a book about a city’s history, I appreciated that Queen of the Sea isn’t just a linear timeline. Instead, it pieces together stories like a puzzle—sometimes jumping across centuries—to give a richer picture of Lisbon. That made it more engaging and accessible than many dry, linear histories I’ve read. As a companion to experiencing Lisbon, I can highly recommend it.
Final thoughts
In retrospect, I should also read something written by a Portuguese author to broaden perspective. Hatton’s voice is enthusiastic and personal—exactly why Queen of the Sea made my trip more vivid. He draws you into Lisbon’s complex past and lively present with affection and storytelling. No reason I can’t follow this up with a Portuguese-written history next!
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