Dero Saunders

That's right, I turned coward and opted for the abridged version. The introduction is very generous with its welcome, stating that the goal is to offer me a taste of Gibbon in hopes of my desiring to make a glutton of myself. This was a wonderful meal but no light snack even in an abridged form - sorry, I'm stuffed. The abridgement wraps up with the first sack of Rome by the Goths in 410, followed by only a few brief excerpts from the Byzantines' half of the story up to their own end in show more 1453.

It's a grand sequel to Tacitus, Sutonious or both, picking up the thread not long after. In broad strokes: Gibbon briefly surveys the Roman Empire up to the reign of Commodus, at which point the decline begins. It carries on through the third century crisis, never to recover enduring stability outside the high points of Diocletian, Constantine, Julian and Valentinian. The first three of these introduced further flaws despite their strong grips on power: the division of that power, the deliberate weakening of Rome's governance and military to keep that power secure from uprisings, and the most serious division of east and west that sent Rome and Constantinople on different trajectories. Valentinian was an "off with your head" type but a good administrator. The tipping point from decline to fall occurred after Valentinian's death, when his brother and co-emperor Valens was killed at the Battle of Adrianople. Theodosius did a credible job of holding things together, but then his sons were a far cry from carrying on the job.

A number of factors play a role in the decline: self-interest of the upper classes paired with neglect and disillusion of the lower classes as the empire lost all semblance of democracy; fractious infighting when the empire needed to be united to hold external powers at bay; and a decline in its military preeminence when it couldn't sufficiently recruit and filled in all ranks with foreigners. First and foremost however, is the lousy way they picked their next emperor and the ridiculous amount of power he held in one hand, too often using it to execute his best generals for fear of their popularity (Stilicho!). Gibbon includes insightful history about the beginnings of the Christian church and how it arose from the precepts of Judaism but opened itself to welcoming all comers. It was responsible for introducing religious intolerance among pagans who'd always gotten along, and muffling science as wasteful study of the world when the afterlife stood beckoning. I'd never considered these consequences.

In terms of how the abridgement was conducted, I could have done with a lot less Arian controversy in exchange for fuller coverage of certain reigns, especially Septimius Severus who ruled for 17 years and was cut down to barely a mention here. show less

The life story of a man at least as interesting himself as his landmark work The History of the Decline & Fall of the Roman Empire. Jammed with bizarre but instructive peripherals on the Age of Enlightenment - such as Oxford in plain 18th Century decadence, or ordinary life during the Seven Years' War. Or of course Gibbon's unsuccesful courtship of the cerebral Suzanne Curchod, who later married Jacques Necker (the minister of finance whose dismissal sparked the French Revolution), founded a show more legendary salon, & herself became mother to one of history's most influential women, Germaine de Staël.

The so-called "giant" of English Enlightenment did indeed lead a life of appropriately vast scope - not to mention entertainment value. show less

What's not to love about a man who writes this well, even when he's not really trying, and gets more upset about intellectual arguments than he does about a faltering love life? Nothing not to love. Gibbon's life wasn't particularly eventful, but this prose would drag me through even a contemporary, 'trauma' filled memoir. Along the way he takes moderate shots at the university system, olde time religione, and the French. A very pleasant way to spend a few hours, in short. Particularly worth show more reading if you like Anthony Powell, since Gibbon's tone here comes very close to Powell's in both A Dance and his own autobiography. show less

It is probably my fault. I wanted a low-effort introduction to Gibbon, and I got a low-effort Gibbon. Despite Churchill's praise, Gibbon just goes on and on. Here he is on his birth, which most writers would skip over, not having any interesting memories of it.

> Of these private and public scenes and of the first years of my own life, I must be indebted not to memory but to information… [Insert a page-long poem here] It is thus that the poet has animated his statue: the theologian must show more infuse a miraculous gift of science and language, the philosopher might allow more time for the gradual exercise of his new senses, but all would agree that the consciousness and memory of Adam might proceed in a regular series from the moment of his birth. Far different is the origin and progress of human nature, and I may confidently apply to myself the common history of the whole species. Decency and ignorance cast a veil over the mystery of generation, but I may relate that after floating nine months in a liquid element I was painfully transported into the vital air. Of a new-born infant it cannot be predicated 'he thinks, therefore he is'; it can only be affirmed 'he suffers, therefore he feels'. But in this imperfect state of existence I was still unconscious of myself and of the universe, my eyes were open without the power of vision, and, according to M. de Buffon, the rational soul, that secret and incomprehensible energy, did not manifest its presence till after the fortieth day. During the first year I was below the greatest part of the brute creation, and must inevitably have perished had I been abandoned to my own care. Three years at least had elapsed before I acquired our peculiar privileges, the facility of erect motion, and the intelligent use of articulate and discriminating sounds. Slow is the growth of the body; that of the mind is still slower: at the age of seven years I had not attained to one half of the strength and proportions of manhood; and could the mental powers be measured with the same accuracy, their deficiency would appear far more considerable.

And he keeps on going. As a memoir, it is hard to read because Gibbon assumes a close familiarity with the most minor of contemporary conflicts (he'll assume, for example, that you are aware of all the details and points of criticism of someone else's negative book review). There are very few other people in the book, but Gibbon goes on and on about money. Very revealing.

Still, as you read, it is hard not to be amused by Gibbon's writing particularities. He is obsessed with the passive voice. You cannot read more than a page without encountering no fewer than a half dozen double negatives.

> It is not my wish to deny how deeply I was interested in these Memoirs, of which I need not surely be ashamed

> The gratification of my desires (they were not immoderate) has been seldom disappointed by the want of money or credit

> By many, conversation is esteemed as a theatre or a school; but after the morning has been occupied by the labours of the library, I wish to unbend rather than to exercise my mind; and in the interval between tea and supper I am far from disdaining the innocent amusement of a game at cards.

Gibbon was very much a scholar, and his enthusiasm for learning is infectious.

> After glancing my eye over the design and order of a new book, I suspended the perusal till I had finished the task of self-examination, till I had revolved in a solitary walk all that I knew or believed or had thought on the subject of the whole work, or of some particular chapter. I was then qualified to discern how much the author added to my original stock; and if I was sometimes satisfied by the agreement, I was sometimes armed by the opposition of our ideas.

> After this long fast, the longest which I have ever known, I once more tasted at Dover the pleasures of reading and thinking; and the hungry appetite with which I opened a volume of Tully’s philosophical works is still present to my memory.

> According to the scale of Switzerland I am a rich man; and I am indeed rich, since my income is superior to my expense, and my expense is equal to my wishes. My friends, more especially Lord Sheffield, kindly relieve me from the cares to which my taste and temper are most adverse: the economy of my house is settled without avarice or profusion; at stated periods all my bills are regularly paid, and in the course of my life, I have never been reduced to appear, either as plaintiff or defendant, in a court of justice. Shall I add that since the failure of my first wishes, I have never entertained any serious thoughts of a matrimonial connection?

> The warm desires, the long expectations of youth are founded on the ignorance of themselves and of the world. They are gradually damped by time and experience, by disappointment or possession; and after the middle season, the crowd must be content to remain at the foot of the mountain, while the few who have climbed the summit, aspire to descend or expect to fall. In old age, the consolation of hope is reserved for the tenderness of parents, who commence a new life in their children; the faith of enthusiasts who sing hallelujahs above the clouds; and the vanity of authors who presume the immortality of their name and writings. show less