Adrian Goldsworthy

Chances are this book won't give you what you're looking for. And that is a very good thing.

There is a bad tendency of biographers of Mark Antony and Cleopatra VII, going back all the way to William Shakespeare (indeed, going all the way back to Roman times) to sensationalize or romanticize: To give us Cleopatra the femme fatale or the two of them as besotted lovers. There has also been a certain tendency, in recent years, to hold up Cleopatra as a feminist icon because she was an early show more queen who truly ruled.

It's mostly bunk. Popular bunk, good for sales, but it's not true. Mark Antony was a moderately talented man who first got lucky because Julius Caesar liked him, and then got unlucky because he wasn't nearly as smart as that punk kid Octavian, and he never figured that out. Cleopatra, by all available evidence, was a very intelligent, very efficient woman -- who, however, loved power and was ruthless in her use of it. She may have been a good lover, but that doesn't mean you'd want her for your ruler. And this book lets us see that: We see Antony in his spendthrift ways, his drinking, his womanizing, his inability to read a situation. And we see Cleopatra in her endless scheming.

We also have pointed out to us all the things we don't know, ranging from what Cleopatra looked like (was she exceptionally beautiful, or was she the woman with the hooked nose on her coins?) to the ancestry of a whole bunch of people, to the various treaties, agreements, and negotiations that we simply are not privy to. At times it gets a little monotonous to simply be told that we don't know -- but that's far better than thinking we know something we don't!

And, on top of all that, it's a good read.

I wouldn't call it a perfect book. For those who don't know much Roman history, it's a bit weak on Roman officialdom (quaestor, aedile, praetor, consul, tribune) and their authority (imperium, and its extension once out of office; also, the relationship between office and military service, and the management of legions). I would have put in more about the later Ptolemies (Ptolemy VI and his brother Ptolemy VIII and their sister-wife Cleopatra II and their daughter-wife Cleopatra III) and how their relationships put Egypt in the weak situation it ended up in in the time of Cleopatra VII. The coverage of the Pharsalus campaign, which ultimately resulted in Julius Caesar meeting Cleopatra, struck me as a little thin, too. And I would have liked to see more about Antony's and Octavian's senior followers -- especially on Antony's side: Why did Canidius join him and stick with him? But those are small things -- if the questions intrigue you, you can try other sources. On the whole, this is an excellent piece of work that will benefit anyone interested in the fall of the Roman Republic. show less

A very good and very readable biography, with rather creepy relevance to current affairs: extensive government corruption; factionalism ahead of the good of the Republic; excessive pursuit of monetary gain; eagerness to use the legal system as a way to punish enemies rather than to serve justice; and public support for “strongman” to take care of everything. Author Adrian Goldsworthy notes that there is no evidence that Caesar was always planning to seize control of the Roman government show more – events just worked out that way. Caesar comes across as one of the most talented people in history: as general, he won almost all his battles; as a politician he was adept at forging alliances; as an author he received praise even from his enemies. He had a reputation for clemency (well, for a Roman – when he crucified the pirates who had kidnapped him early in his career, as a mercy he had their throats cut first). He was immensely popular with his troops, willing to share their field privations and to go into battle himself at crucial moments; his histories mention common soldiers and centurions far more often than higher ranking officers.

Goldsworthy claims Caesar and his contemporaries were influenced by his sense of auctoritas - usually translated as “authority”, although with a more subtle meaning connected with honor and influence; you could have auctoritas without actually being in a position of legal or political authority (for example, Roman women could have auctoritas if they were in a position to influence political outcomes, even if they had no political authority themselves). Goldsworthy attributes Caesar’s crucial decision to “cross the Rubicon” with his army as due to fear (probably quite correct) that his auctoritas would be diminished if he didn’t. (I was surprised to note that despite the fact that “crossing the Rubicon” has become idiomatic for taking an irreversible step, nobody knows exactly where the Rubicon was; several small streams are candidates).

As with any good book, Caesar raises a lot of questions; one that intrigues me is that Goldsworthy makes it clear that success in the Roman political system required huge amounts of money. What for, exactly? It’s not as if it was spent on TV ads. Similarly, where did the money come from? Rome, after all, had no large corporations or even individuals who had become rich though trade or manufacturing. It seems like the only way to become wealthy was to be appointed governor of a province and then skim tax collections (this is what Caesar did; the conquest of Gaul allowed him to pay off all the creditors who had supported him thus far and have massive amounts left over for bribery and army recruitment). Goldsworthy gives some hints about Roman economics but a detailed account would require a whole other book; I’ll have to do some research.

There’s a lot more fascinating stuff than mention; this is a very worthwhile book and an easy read. A plate section shows people and sites; there are good maps of most of Caesar’s battles (at least as far as events can be reconstructed). Recommended. show less

How Rome Fell is a comprehensive account of the centuries-long collapse of the Roman Empire, covering the period from the death of Marcus Aurelius in 180 AD to the last expansion of Justinian in 560 AD. Goldsworthy charts a middle course, reconstructing Gibbon's "decline and fall" narrative against a more benign "transformation to Late Antiquity" theory, and being careful about using Rome as a model for contemporary Western problems, while having his cake about politics circa 2008.

The Pax show more Romana was one of the triumphs of government, but the Roman Empire was also improvised, growing on top of Republican traditions and without clear mechanisms of succession. Commodus, who succeeded Marcus Aurelius, was young and had numerous personal flaws. His assassination prompted an awareness that anyone could become Emperor, and from then on there was not a decade without usurpers and civil wars.

Death by intrigue was the most common cause of death for Roman emperors after Marcus Aurelius. Being on the wrong side of an intrigue was fatal, sometimes for entire families. This caused a series of cascading failures. Emperors afraid of a rival gaining large amounts of power divided authority, with late Roman provinces and military units much smaller than previous ones. Yet this meant that the emperor personally had to respond to extraordinary challenges, like large border raids. Provinces that did not receive attention for their problems could raise usurpers. Divided authority between military commanders and the civilians responsible for logistics prevented responses.

There were no serious external rivals to Rome. Persia could threaten border provinces, but the barbarian tribes were always disunited. Rather, endless civil war sapped resources. Whoever won, Rome lost. Goldsworthy notes the perennial insufficiency of statistics, but there appears to have been a long manpower and economic crisis from the 3rd century onwards. Barbarian tribes settled inside the empire, including Goths and Vandals, were signs of Roman internal weakness. Though non-Italians were long seen as equally Roman, these tribal kings created alternative lines of authority that further weakened the central government.

In the end Rome fell because its leaders could no longer see beyond the nice crisis, valued personal survival over institutional stability, and lost any kind of elite solidarity. Goldsworthy warns against direct parallels, but living through the past 15 years of American history... yikes. show less

This time historian-cum-novelist Goldsworthy has taken a short mention in Tacitus's "Agricola" about a mutiny in the army and from this cleverly constructed a full-fledged novel. The cohort of a German tribe, the Usipi, revolted against harsh punishments and other troubles. According to Tacitus, they seized ships, sailed to Germania and were taken and enslaved by the Frisians. However a rumor persisted some were still alive and had returned to Britannia as pirates, wreaking havoc, including show more cannibalism. We follow Centurion Regionalis Flavius Ferox, the Silure, at first in his duties as liaison to the native peoples and rendering judgments, then later as a fighting man. He still is aided by his faithful scout, the Brigantian, Vindex. An expedition to Hibernia shows us some of that culture and a Hibernian queen returns to Britannia. Sulpicia Lepidina, her husband, and their friends, Aelius Brocchus and his wife are also instrumental in the story. There are other historical figures [which we know by name only from archaeological evidence] which Goldsworthy has given personalities and physical descriptions. We read of a daring rescue of Sulpicia and a final battle in which the pirates are destroyed.

This author I consider the best of the recent historians who try their hand at a novel. Goldsworthy marries the best of both worlds; you know his history is impeccable, along with a good story without "infodumps." Also, the cover was quite stunning and set the mood.

Highly recommended. show less