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A review by dpkb
Augustus by John Williams
4.0
Augustus by John Williams chronicles the establishment of the Roman Empire following Julius Caesar's death through a series of chronological letters.
The narrative unfolds across three books. Interestingly, Octavian (Augustus) himself remains silent throughout Books 1 and 2. The first book recounts the formation of the principate and young Octavian's efforts to establish rule at just eighteen. Book 2 centres on the thornier issue of succession - admittedly, this section does drag a bit. Finally, we get Augustus's own voice in a letter to a friend in Syria, written in his seventies. Here, he reflects on his call to power, his (mostly outlived) friends, and his philosophical outlook.
The epistolary format proves quite clever - it's brilliant for spanning decades quickly, with major events often revealed through casual reflection. Lepidus's fall from governor of the African provinces, for instance, which gets mentioned almost in passing. Where this approach falls short is in conveying scale and imagery. We never really grasp its magnitude or the true expanse of his empire. The book expects readers to understand or fill in these historical gaps themselves.
Being historical fiction, it inevitably draws comparison with Robert Graves's [book:I, Claudius|18765]. Graves's take is decidedly more dramatic, particularly in his portrayal of Livia. Where Graves paints her as a master manipulator orchestrating deaths to secure Tiberius's power (drawing from hostile ancient sources like Tacitus and Suetonius), Williams offers a more nuanced view. His Livia emerges as a shrewd political operator who helped stabilise the empire, rather than a murderous schemer. Historical evidence tends to favour Williams's interpretation, though neither book likely tells the complete truth. Graves aimed for compelling drama with modern political parallels, while Williams explored the complexities of power and relationships in the early empire.
Williams himself acknowledges this as fiction in his introduction, admitting to tweaking dates for narrative appeal. This approach works well - Williams proves rather good at character development. That said, Book 2 occasionally gets bogged down establishing various characters and their motivations. Williams manages to walk the tightrope between historical accuracy and reader engagement quite successfully. The writing is impressive—sometimes beautiful, and at times, poetic.
The narrative unfolds across three books. Interestingly, Octavian (Augustus) himself remains silent throughout Books 1 and 2. The first book recounts the formation of the principate and young Octavian's efforts to establish rule at just eighteen. Book 2 centres on the thornier issue of succession - admittedly, this section does drag a bit. Finally, we get Augustus's own voice in a letter to a friend in Syria, written in his seventies. Here, he reflects on his call to power, his (mostly outlived) friends, and his philosophical outlook.
The epistolary format proves quite clever - it's brilliant for spanning decades quickly, with major events often revealed through casual reflection. Lepidus's fall from governor of the African provinces, for instance, which gets mentioned almost in passing. Where this approach falls short is in conveying scale and imagery. We never really grasp its magnitude or the true expanse of his empire. The book expects readers to understand or fill in these historical gaps themselves.
Being historical fiction, it inevitably draws comparison with Robert Graves's [book:I, Claudius|18765]. Graves's take is decidedly more dramatic, particularly in his portrayal of Livia. Where Graves paints her as a master manipulator orchestrating deaths to secure Tiberius's power (drawing from hostile ancient sources like Tacitus and Suetonius), Williams offers a more nuanced view. His Livia emerges as a shrewd political operator who helped stabilise the empire, rather than a murderous schemer. Historical evidence tends to favour Williams's interpretation, though neither book likely tells the complete truth. Graves aimed for compelling drama with modern political parallels, while Williams explored the complexities of power and relationships in the early empire.
Williams himself acknowledges this as fiction in his introduction, admitting to tweaking dates for narrative appeal. This approach works well - Williams proves rather good at character development. That said, Book 2 occasionally gets bogged down establishing various characters and their motivations. Williams manages to walk the tightrope between historical accuracy and reader engagement quite successfully. The writing is impressive—sometimes beautiful, and at times, poetic.
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 once 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. A 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.
This is certainly a solid read for anyone with a passing interest in the Roman Empire, particularly its establishment. I've heard good things about Williams's other novel, [book:Stoner|166997], though I've yet to read it myself.