One day in 331BC – “halfway in the timeline between us and the great Pyramids of Giza” — the young ruler of Macedon, Alexander, halted his empire-building campaign through Egypt and Greece on the small island of Pharos, all windswept coast, empty beaches and tiny fishing villages.

Alexander, aged 24, and only five years into his reign after his father, Philip, had been assassinated, saw promise in the vacant scene. With the mainland within bridging distance, a sheltered harbour, and the Nile and a nearby lake providing trade routes and fresh water, he couldn’t believe his good luck. He dropped to his knees, and using barley – or, as one version of the story has it, flour – sketched out a plan. 

The island would be connected to the mainland, and a grand city between the lake and the ocean would be built. With its grandeur – majestic temples, streets large enough for “eight lanes of horses and chariots to move efficiently” – and its position “at the intersection of the three continents of Europe, Africa and Asia”, this would be a city for the ages: a “global capital, a cultural melting point, a state-of-the art metropolis”.  

Alexander would never see the city that bore his name: as quickly as he’d appeared, he sailed off again, with only the briefest look over his shoulder. But Alexandria, “born from one man’s ego”, already had all it needed from its founder: a rich mythology, that could live alongside, and enrich, its real history. 

In Islam Issa’s monumental and vividly imagined new tale of the city, Alexandria comes to life. Issa paints a picture of a city as magical as it is beleaguered; a city that saw Helen of Troy, Antony and Cleopatra, and the foundation of Christianity in Egypt; but also endured the first pogroms, the ravages of Napoleon, and the destruction of the Second World War.