Sheba: Through the Desert in Search of the Legendary Queen is perfectly situated in this conjunction between the fates of old stories and old structures. And on the whole, it's great good fun. Starting with the biblical reference to the Queen of Sheba's visit to the court of Solomon, Clapp hunts for this queen in ancient narratives and ancient civilizations, on a quest for both the origin of her story, and for insight into how the tale has rippled through history. He is at least as interested in a good yarn as he is in archaeology, tracking down pop cultural references to the Queen of Sheba (nineteenth century operas, an early silent film) with as much enthusiasm as he has searching Arabia's ruins for the historical truth that may underlie her legend. In a work of straight archaeology this might not make much sense — surely a Nevada lead mine called The Queen of Sheba has nothing to do with a three-thousand-year-old queen — but here, where curiosity about Sheba's stories is what fired the hunt for Sheba herself, it's all of a piece.

Along the way, Clapp takes his readers for an adventurous jaunt that encompasses medieval mystics, the rise and fall of ancient Arabia, the founding of the Ethiopian monarchy, and the role King Solomon played — if there was a King Solomon — in the lucrative spice trade that made frankincense and myrrh such valuable gifts. Clapp's writing is eminently accessible and at the same time impressively erudite; he makes what could be a dry account of his visits to archaeological sites as exciting and entertaining as the Arabian Nights, and I now know more than I ever thought I would about Arabian engineering and trade routes circa 1500 BC, and I must say it's fascinating stuff.

Sheba is the sort of book that simultaneously makes you want to set out for the desert, and grateful you're not in the desert. Clapp writes with gusto about the wonders concealed by Arabia's sands, and with just as much gusto about 140-degree heat, dining on locusts, and bad men with guns. I can't help but suspect that he gets something of a bang out of the dangers he encounters, and that he's tickled by the image of himself as Indiana Jones (a comparison made by a Los Angeles Times reviewer in response to his last book, and quoted on Sheba'sback cover). Indeed, I would even guess that Clapp would be disappointed if he didn't get to face any peril — that archaeology in France, for example, would strike him as being insufficiently adventurous. Yet I find myself thinking, bless him, I hope he writes more. He's turned biblical exegesis into page-turning armchair travel. More power to him.