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tomleetang 's review for:
Memoirs of Hadrian
by Marguerite Yourcenar
Comparisons to I, Claudius crept up on me while I was reading Memoirs of Hadrian. Whereas Graves' novel - which I also adore - tends to lay on the murders and the intrigue pretty thickly amidst an examination of ambition and desire, Yourcenar is more philosophical. There are still plots and assassinations, suspected poisonings and massacres - this is Ancient Rome, after all- but her emperor is more given to quiet contemplation and engagement, compared to Claudius' detached bemusement and horror at the machinations of his family. Hadrian is full of somber fear of death, of aching grief for young loves who somehow preceded him to the grave.
Looking back from the verge of the tomb, he examines what his reforms and victories will leave his people, positing the best ways to achieve good government, balancing war and diplomacy. It's less of a romp (compared to I, Claudius) and more of moving contemplation. The character is so touchingly and convincingly realized I had to keep reminding myself that after all these are fictional memoirs and not the true reflections of the real-life Hadrian. That's not to say he's portrayed as perfect - he certainly makes his way pretty voraciously through a bevy of pulchritudinous boys - but as a 60-year-old man he has perspective on his life.
Perhaps most attractively of all for those with Machiavellian tendencies, Hadrian can feel sad that he had to kill certain relations and religious leaders, but ultimately justify exactly why it was necessary and even unavoidable. Then there's the bracing view of Christianity in its early days, seen as just one more Judaic cult among many.
Memoirs of Hadrian should be read with a bottle of wine on a patio or terrace in the countryside somewhere; a place where one can gaze out across rolling greenery in between passages, just as Hadrian might have done from his villa as he wrote his memoirs.
Looking back from the verge of the tomb, he examines what his reforms and victories will leave his people, positing the best ways to achieve good government, balancing war and diplomacy. It's less of a romp (compared to I, Claudius) and more of moving contemplation. The character is so touchingly and convincingly realized I had to keep reminding myself that after all these are fictional memoirs and not the true reflections of the real-life Hadrian. That's not to say he's portrayed as perfect - he certainly makes his way pretty voraciously through a bevy of pulchritudinous boys - but as a 60-year-old man he has perspective on his life.
Perhaps most attractively of all for those with Machiavellian tendencies, Hadrian can feel sad that he had to kill certain relations and religious leaders, but ultimately justify exactly why it was necessary and even unavoidable. Then there's the bracing view of Christianity in its early days, seen as just one more Judaic cult among many.
Memoirs of Hadrian should be read with a bottle of wine on a patio or terrace in the countryside somewhere; a place where one can gaze out across rolling greenery in between passages, just as Hadrian might have done from his villa as he wrote his memoirs.