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lookingglasswar 's review for:
Augustus
by John Williams
A beautifully-written epistolary treatment of Augustus' life, ranging from the death of Julius Caesar to his own death at the age of 76, after decades of Roman peace. The first section concerns Augustus' astonishing and bloody rise to power beginning at the age of 19, the second part details the tortured and quietly devastating family relationships he had particularly concerning Julia the Elder, his willful and intelligent daughter whom he exiled for treason, and the third book his plans for his eventual succession and the Rome he made ready to leave behind.
Throughout the novel, characters muse on the inscrutable Augustus, who is historically attested to have initially adopted a sphinx as his symbol and reportedly asked on his deathbed if he'd played the part well.
In the third part of the book, Augustus finally speaks in a lengthy letter to an old friend, the last old acquaintance he has. Though he explains himself, to the end his motivations and inner life remain a rich mystery, neatly illustrating why Augustus captures so many today.
"For 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?"
Throughout the novel, characters muse on the inscrutable Augustus, who is historically attested to have initially adopted a sphinx as his symbol and reportedly asked on his deathbed if he'd played the part well.
In the third part of the book, Augustus finally speaks in a lengthy letter to an old friend, the last old acquaintance he has. Though he explains himself, to the end his motivations and inner life remain a rich mystery, neatly illustrating why Augustus captures so many today.
"For 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?"