Augustus

Do you see what I mean, my dear Strabo? There is so much that is not said. I almost believe that the form has not been devised that will let me say what I need to say. (Letter: Nicolaus of Damascus to Strabo of Amasia, 18 B.C.)

Augustus is a work of fictional biography, told through imagined letters, diaries, poems, etc., written by a wide range of historical figures, and by stating and then restating known events through these various points of view over forty years or so, author John Williams captures balance and nuance; shapes the story behind the story of the first Roman emperor. These devised documents are clever and display a believable range of voices, and the overall format works so well to raise the literary/ironic value of this novel: Divided into three books, the first is primarily an account of Octavius/Augustus' ascent (the military campaigns, the political manoevering), the second describes events at the height of the Emperor's power (and is humanised by the concurrent writings of his daughter, Julia, whom he had exiled), and the third is by and large a long letter written by Augustus to an old friend, in which he evaluates the events of his life (and it's in this evaluation that much of what came before is recast in an ironic light). This book works as an intriguing history (in the same vein as I, Claudius), but even more so, as a commentary on the nature of biography and the near impossibility of truthfully capturing a life. A totally worthwhile read.

I'm no scholar of history – I don't think we were taught about ancient Rome in school – but we did study Shakespeare's Julius Caesar, so it worked for me that this book essentially starts with his assassination, and the implications that that death had for Caesar's eighteen-year-old nephew, Octavius; named the former's adopted son and heir in his will. We learn that the famed assassins – Cassius and Brutus – have been cleared (and rewarded) by the Senate, under the heavy influence of Mark Antony, and the young Octavius must tread carefully if he is to fulfill his destiny among all the backroom machinations. I loved that we hear the names and read the writings of historical figures like Cicero, Pliny, and Livy; the poets Ovid, Virgil, and Horace; watch the development of the alliance between Antony and Cleopatra. I loved watching as Octavius took his place in a ruling triumvirate that eventually morphed into his own absolute rule; that to preserve the Republic, put a stop to the endless civil wars, and bring on the Pax Romana, Octavius would need to become the merciless dictator Augustus Caesar. This is history told through human lives, from different (sometimes conflicting) points of view, and it was interesting in a way that can't be found in textbooks.

If history remembers me at all, it will remember me so.
But history will not know the truth, if history ever can. (The Journal of Julia, Pandateria, A.D. 4)

And I appreciated that Williams included the women's stories – the arranged marriages and divorces; their own struggles for power through the channels open to them. Augustus' daughter (and only natural child), Julia, figures prominently, and despite her station, education, and prominence in the Emperor's esteem, she too is used as a pawn to form alliances and breed the appropriate heirs. When Julia is married (for the third time) to her repulsive cousin, Tiberius, she enagages in a sexual rebellion that sees her run afoul of her father's morality laws; and to save her life, Augustus must banish his daughter forever. 

But as much as I appreciated the history in Augustus, what elevates the novel for me is the frequent musings on the nature of biography. Reflecting back as he nears the end of his life, Augustus calls his early biographies lies, despite them containing no untruths or errors of fact:

It seems to me now that when I read those books and wrote my words, I read and wrote of a man who bore my name but a man whom I hardly know. Strain as I might, I can hardly see him now; and when I glimpse him, he recedes as in a mist, eluding my most searching gaze. I wonder, if he saw me, would he recognize what he has become? Would he recognize the caricature that all men become of themselves? I do not believe that he would. (Letter: Octavius Caesar to Nicolaus of Damascus, A.D. 14)

And I loved this last section so much, here are a few more quotes from Augustus' letter to Nicolaus:

•The young man, who does not know the future, sees life as a kind of epic adventure, an Odyssey through strange seas and unknown islands, where he will test and prove his powers, and thereby discover his immortality. The man of middle years, who has lived the future that he onced dreamed, sees life as a tragedy; for he has learned that his power, however great, will not prevail against those forces of accident and nature to which he gives the names of gods, and has learned that he is mortal. But the man of age, if he plays his assigned role properly, must see life as a comedy. For his triumphs and his failures merge, and one is no more the occasion for pride or shame than the other; and he is neither the hero who proves himself against those forces, nor the protagonist who is destroyed by them. Like any poor, pitiable shell of an actor, he comes to see that he has played so many parts that there no longer is himself 

•Alexander was fortunate to have died so young, else he would have come to know that if to conquer the world is a small thing, to rule it is even less...But I have never wished to conquer the world, and I have been more nearly ruled than ruler.

•No Emperor ever so carefully organizes the disparate parts of the world that he rules so that they will constitute a whole than does the poet dispose the details of his poem so that another world, perhaps more real than the one that we so precariously inhabit, will spin in the universe of men's minds.

And so, somehow, Williams has so arranged the details of his history as to create a world “more real than the one that we so precariously inhabit”; and it was a neat trick. Augustus ends on the most ironic note of all, with a letter written by the doctor who attended Augustus in the end:

The Empire of Rome that he created has endured the harshness of a Tiberius, the monstrous cruelty of a Caligula, and the ineptness of a Claudius. And now our new Emperor is one whom you tutored as a boy, and to whom you remain close in his new authority; let us be thankful for the fact that he will rule in the light of your wisdom and virtue, and let us pray to the gods that, under Nero, Rome will at last fulfill the dream of Octavius Caesar. (Philippus of Athens to Lucius Annaeus Seneca A.D. 55)

I liked so much about this book that it feels miserly not to give it a full five stars – it is undeniably well written – but I reserve that fifth star for the books that completely touch me heart and soul, and this one barely misses. Still a great read.

This was the last of the books that I brought along to Italy for my obnoxious posings: