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gilroi's reviews
534 reviews
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.0
In the book succeeding this one, Robert Harris writes: "As Dictator encompasses what is arguably - at least until the convulsions of 1933-45 - the most tumultuous era in human history [...]"
Does Robert Harris think Julius Caesar is Hitler?
For the record, I don't think Julius Caesar is Hitler. I think Hitler is Hitler, and Julius Caesar is Julius Caesar. But writing Caesar as Hitler is a trap that Harris seems to fall into. It creates some logistical problems with the writing of the novel. You can't have Roman Hitler doing good things, or being kind. When Hitler-- I mean, Caesar?-- institutes reforms that enable the Corn Dole, the system with which every Roman citizen became entitled to grain, Cicero - the hero, the anti-Hitler - must oppose it, and the act must be evil. Because Hitler did it. I mean, Julius Caesar.
This is a well-written novel, on the prose level. It is consistently compelling, and excellently paced. I was riveted for almost all of it, which is saying something considering how bad my ADHD has been lately. But Harris' insertion of modern morality makes the pieced awkward at best on a political level, which is a shame because these are, in the end, political novels about political machinations. Politics is an area rife with moral greyness, where you must make compromises in order to pass legislation, where you have to get in bed with people you'd rather not. For the most part, Harris understands this, and how he depicts it slowly eating away at Cicero's morals and self-respect is compelling as hell! But the backbone of this novel is the fact that Julius Caesar is Hitler of the highest degree, which is somewhat specious considering the total lack of interest this book has in writing Roman atrocity. Because Rome in this book is basically London, and the Senate is (modern) Parliament, we can't focus on the things that detract from that analysis - the slavery, the rampant expansionist colonialism, the horrendous sexism, the legalized rape. It means Julius Caesar is Hitler without any atrocity that brings Hitler's ills into the world. He's simply Hitler because Hitler is bad, because because.
It's an Achilles heel on an otherwise strong novel, a footfall made weak by an elegantly made body. It's a shame I can't rate this novel higher, because I truly enjoyed it.
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
3.0
This book is written from the perspective of Cicero's enslaved secretary, Tiro. One would expect, that the scope would include things like Tiro's life, his experiences being an enslaved person-- yet it's extremely clear Robert Harris has no interest in this perspective. He wants to write about Cicero, and thus Tiro, his narrator, is relegated to a kind of third person perspective granted omniscience by time. Tiro is more of a literary device than a character. Is this a strike against the book? Probably?
Robert Harris is a deft enough writer to make me occasionally forget this giant hole in his work - which is saying something, considering how perpetually hungry I am for the perspective of the non-elite (as Jerry Toner puts it) in the Roman world. His political writing is sharp and fierce, and the story never drags, even when Cicero is kicking his feet in boredom. Tiro is a deft narrator, because Tiro is really just Harris in a tunic, explaining the intricacies of Roman law, politics, and the painful insertion of human flesh and soul between.
I've said before that all stories dealing with Roman history, but this period especially, can dip easily into the well of tragedy, and Harris' writing takes great advantage of that. I find Cicero, as a historical personage, irritating at best, and yet I found him a grand character here. Harris makes sure that you don't have to actually like Cicero to like these books, you just have to be interested in his career, and I admit I wasn't before-- I started reading this book months ago and straight up gave up. I'm glad I came back to it, because with a fresher mind, the writing really sparkles.
If you want a book with political intrigue that is beautifully written, elegantly staged, and described with a sharp eye for detail, you'll love this novel. If you're looking for a keen eye into the life of the enslaved, well, you won't find it here.
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
2.0
I don't know if I'm just especially sensitive to pacing, but this book's pacing was just awful, treacle-slow even though the fact that the characters are running out of time-- have little time to begin with, to save the lives of almost a hundred people!-- is constantly remarked upon. The investigation crawled at a snail's pace until the final ~15% of the book, in which all was revealed in monologues (something I don't generally love but understand is occasionally a staple of mystery fiction). The denouement happens off screen. The final few chapters are retrospectives where characters discuss events that have already happened for the benefit of the reader. The ending is ultimately saccharine, far too much for a book that is trying to highlight the evils of slavery.
Ultimately, the book felt weirdly like a cozy mystery, which is not what I go to for fiction set in Ancient Rome.
I was thoroughly disappointed. If the next book in the series wasn't about an event in Roman history I find interesting, I'd tap out completely.
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
This is an excellent novel, both thrilling and conceptual, literary and human, serious and fun.
It is also going to piss a lot of people off because it does not automatically reveal all the kinks and knots in its worldbuilding. This isn't to say the worldbuilding is particularly cryptic or difficult. It's just extremely detailed. Even then, it's structured in such a way that the important parts are almost always re-explained as soon as they become relevant. But a lot of readers, especially SFF ones, immediately break at the thought that something isn't immediately, transparently obvious. It's okay, guys. You're not supposed to understand everything. The people explaining are aliens and quantum physicists. Be at peace.
If you can get over that hurdle, you'll find a highly emotional and philosophical and fun story about humanity, colonialism, failure, pain, moral philosophy, and love. The moral philosophy part was a particular treat for me, because it slapped me in the face. I've said before that moral philosophy is 'the most useless' philosophy because its main purpose seems to be obfuscating theoretical models of behavior for the amusement of privileged old men who will never have to face those choices. This book gave me the finger. It points to the ways those theoretical models are in fact real and are faced by real people daily. I love it when books prove me wrong.
My only substantive complaint is the pacing, though I am personally extremely sensitive to pacing because my attention span hasn't been the greatest since COVID. The... second eighth of the book? There's a bit of a lag, when we're jumping between timelines, that feels a bit like this novel was at one point a novella or a novelette that was elongated. But I am also just personally not a fan of switching around in timelines and POVs too much. And it's a credit to this book that the switching POV didn't turn me off completely.
All and all, I'd love it if this became the new SF, especially MilSF. I want more morality in my space battles, more questioning the fabric of existence, more reckoning with America's seedy colonialist past and present and, let's be real, future. More military SF should question the military industrial complex. Shake the foundations of the genre! Feed me good food. This book was a feast.
Graphic: Genocide, Homophobia, Xenophobia, Murder, Lesbophobia, and War
3.0
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.5
There are certain 'off' historical details, as in any historical fiction; all of them were, I believe, included to further the point of the novel: the vices of imperialism, the way corruption erodes every corner of the world.
Moderate: Incest
4.0
The thing that keeps this from being a truly 5 star experience, a real 'everyone needs to read this!' knee slapping call to arms, is the way the book focuses only on artists. Artists are unimaginably abused by our current megacorp dystopia, and I think they should get their due for their labor. I think the book should mention them, and it does. But it focuses on them to the exclusion of people whose experiences with corporate abuse are far more devastating in consequence and scope. It's <i>easy</i> to take advantage of artists, and so Giblin and Doctorow call them the canary in the coalmine of these antics, but I think what artists really are in this situation are the most <i>easily visible</i> people being taken advantage of.
The book talks at length about breaking corporate chokeholds-- monopolies-- but it talks about doing it through legislation. It mentions the COVID pandemic but not the riots. The book points to artists and how they've been abused, then blithely mentions production line workers wearing diapers and Amazon striking. The book's use of artists as its focal point is meant to show how corporate abuse could spread from just artists and eventually abuse you, but in using artists, the implicit <i>you</i> is presumed middle class. Purposefully or otherwise, the book excludes the people who were alienated from their labor far, far before any musician: the people who staff Amazon warehouses, automobile factory workers, the lower middle class and working poor. The book's diligent focus on legislative fixes to the problems of corporation totally ignores the importance of riots and radical action, and the book only briefly mentions strikes and labor unions.
The final passages of the book talk about how it's a big task to take down corporate greed (it is) but how we should take heart, because their control is so self-entangled that any strike against them weakens the whole. But the book forgets that the people, workers, the disadvantaged, everyone who is preyed on by corporate capital, are also a whole. We have to protect our own, even if it scares white upper middle class economists.
This is not an incitements of Giblin or Doctorow's priorities or an attempt to guess at their class status; I am not casting aspersions on their motives in writing this book, nor saying the book is useless. I think their best intentions are in this book, and it's truly an informative and important read. But it is blinkered in its scope, and that, again, weakens the whole.
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.25
Weird, lyrical, unhinged, whip-smart, extremely painful. This book is difficult to describe, but that's a compliment; it's complex and refuses to compromise, while still having highly engaging and readable prose. Most experimental / poetic novels are a little too obtuse for me, but Rumfitt's eye for prose and person always sits well.
In the end, I think I liked it less than Tell Me I'm Worthless, though I don't really think that's the book's fault. While it begins with (helpful!) content warnings, it doesn't really go into enough detail for me (I'm fine with books not having content warnings, for the record, but this book's CWs were a bit vague). In the end, it dwelled on subjects I personally find incredibly gross. Not morally suspect, not bad, not wrong, just, for me, subjectively, gross. And that will inevitably make me like a book less, no matter how well it's written.
And Brainwyrms is incredibly, startlingly well written. It's at least as good as Tell Me I'm Worthless, perhaps better in how it expands its scope and aims. The book has a lot more to say on a wide range of issues, but still hits the topic home. If you disliked the unsubtlety and long rambly prose style of TMIW, though, this book is similar. Personally, I find that a success; I love Rumfitt's work and her style.
Graphic: Death, Drug use, Eating disorder, Fatphobia, Gore, Infertility, Pedophilia, Rape, Self harm, Sexism, Sexual violence, Suicidal thoughts, Toxic relationship, Transphobia, Excrement, Vomit, Murder, Pregnancy, and Injury/Injury detail
4.0
One star off simply because the book over-generalizes at times; if you're using this with the intention of researching facts for a specific period, the book moves around in time quite a bit, so you can easily get facts mixed up. Was it legal for slave owners to torture their own slaves during the republic, the early empire, the late empire? If you're looking for those kinds of concrete answers from this book, you're liable to end up confused. But if you're looking for a general introduction, a place to start your research, so you can know what questions to ask, this little history is perfect.
Just try not to fantasize about strangling Marcus Sidonius Falx too much; it'll distract you from the text, and, after all, he isn't real. (Cato the Elder, however, was very real, and it's to history's great shame that he was capable of dying only once.)
An end note for moralists: The book is itself very obviously anti-slavery, but it seeks to illuminate not only the methods and means of slavery within the Roman empire, but also the attitudes of patricians with regards to slavery. This perspective is valuable as the overwhelming majority of information on slavery is from a patrician perspective; anyone researching further into the subject will encounter people like Falx. Just in case this isn't clear from the 'Falx's' writing, however, each chapter has an endnote written by Tobler in-character as himself that dispels many of the myths and biases 'Falx' trucks in. If you want a more even-keeled work that cuts out the opinions of the Roman ruling class, check out Popular Culture by the same author.
Graphic: Slavery, Torture, and Trafficking
Moderate: Pedophilia
Minor: Racism, Rape, Sexism, Suicide, Violence, Xenophobia, Suicide attempt, and Pregnancy
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
4.0
I think it's impossible for this book not to be compared to Elodie Harper's Wolf Den series, and while each have their strong and weak points, I think this book comes out stronger in terms of literary worth and political analysis. The story is short and to the point, about power, about hierarchy, about colonialism. Rome is an animal that feeds on the weak, and so to be strong is to eventually be corrupted by this influence-- not because of capitalism, or because of inequality, or because of any one abstract principle; the book posits that injustice is inevitable in a system that is built on injustice. The tools this system uses-- colonialism, capitalism, imperialism, slavery, classism, sexism-- are systematic and important and innate, but they are legs of a spider.
And yet, is life worth living? Yes. Is it worthwhile to try? Yes. Is collective action, friendship, love, honor and hope, worthwhile? Yes, always.
Graphic: Cursing, Death, Domestic abuse, Emotional abuse, Pedophilia, Rape, Sexism, Sexual assault, Sexual content, Sexual violence, Slavery, Violence, Trafficking, Grief, Abortion, Murder, Fire/Fire injury, Abandonment, Sexual harassment, Colonisation, and Classism