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selenakCatching up on the last two Steven Saylor novels in his Roma Sub Rosa series was enjoyable but deepened my impression that Saylor finds writing about Gordianus in his youth, travelling through the Mediterranean countries and not tied to the detective story format creatively invigorating while writing about older Gordianus in Rome, tied to the Whodunit format, can‘t seem to escape the aura of „been there, done that“. The two novels were „Wratch of the Furies“ (young Gordianus has to go undercover in Ephesus while King Mithridates is about to unleash hell for everyone Roman) and „The Throne of Caesar“ (the Ides of March, in three words) respectively.
„The Throne of Caesar“ doesn‘t solely cover the most famous Roman murder of them all, it treats one of the murders in its aftermath which you might remember even if you only know the Shakespeare play as its central mystery: the death of Cinna the poet.
In the afterword, Saylor confesses he did toy with the idea of doing what some other authors did, add a twist to Caesar‘s death in order to make it a mystery, but then thought better of it. So Caeser dies according to schedule, by the hands of everyone historians credit and for historical reasons, and to Saylor‘s credit, he manages to make that very expected approaching murder still both suspenseful and wrenching, and this despite the fact both he and his hero Gordianus aren‘t exactly Caesar fans. (Gordianus‘ mixed feelings about Caesar remain mixed to the end, while Saylor‘s take on him manages to capture the charisma and personal charm as well as the utter ruthlessness that a great many dead Gauls could talk about. ) Since Cinna the poet is introduced as a main character of the novel early on, I wasn‘t surprised that it‘s his death, not Caesar‘s, which is the central event everything is gearing up to. Mind you, that very premise I have mixed feelings about. One thing which makes the Cinna story so powerful in all other renditions that bother to include it is that it illustrates mob frenzy, a nonsensical killing coming about because of bad luck and people who’ve just been incited to hate and violence. And when Gordianus initially witnesses it, this is what it appears to be (and as with Caesar’s death, it’s a powerful writing set piece). But because this needs to be a detective story, appearances are deceiving, and the death was, instead, orchestrated. Which, regardless of the solution, to me robs it of the specific emotional power this particular historical circumstances holds for me.
As to the actual solution, while I won’t spoil it, I have problems with it as well. Not only because you could see it coming, but because it contains one writing/plot element I find frustrating, and the fact Saylor lampshades it by mentioning the earlier similar event in dialogue doesn’t help. To wit: both solutions include Gordianus discovering that a good buddy of his, not a man of power but someone “normal”, did something truly revolting for a lengthy period of time. And...we have minimal emotional reaction on his part. I wanted some soul searching and agony on the theme of “knowing this, how do I now feel about X? If I like X still, because years of friendship won’t just go away and all what drew me to X is still true, what does that say about me, and if I now can no longer like X, because the horror is too much, how does that feel?” And I didn’t get it, for the second time. Crickets. Since Saylor otherwise is a good writer and makes these characters emotionally believable to me, this is is especially frustrating.
What I did appreciate about this novel is that Gordianus’ daughter Diana, hitherto as opposed to her brothers confined to cameo appearances much like her mother, this time around has a more prominent role, and one which suggests that Saylor might be thinking of following Lindsey Davis’ lead in making his detective’s daughter the detective heroine of a new set of novels. This might just be what his mystery novels needs, because a female perspective is something he truly hasn’t done before, and it would be a good counterpoint to Gordianus’ occasional tendency to go “women: they’re a mystery!” On us.
(Which, btw, doesn’t mean the Roma Sub Rosa novels don’t contain memorable female characters. Saylor’s take on Clodia (Pulcher) is my absolute favourite, and he’s one of the very few who not only use Fulvia (as in: Clodia’s one time sister in law and later wife of Antony) in novels set during this particular era in a capacity other than “the one before Cleopatra”, but use her prominently as a key figure of the late Republic. (I can’t believe it never occured to me that the violent aftermath of Clodius’ death and funeral - the Roman senate torched - and the aftermath of Caesar’s death and funeral had Fulvia in common.) )
Something that’s both endearing and a bit irritating about “Throne of Caesar” is how meta it is; very consciously a writer writing about the act of writing, not just because Cinna the poet plays such a prominent role but because Gordianus contemplates writing his memoirs and eventually starts doing it, thus bringing us full circle since he finishes this novel dictating the first Roma Sub Rosa novel.
In conclusion: doesn’t rise to the heights of my three favourites of the series (“Catilina’s Riddle”, “The Venus Throw” and “Murder of the Appian Way”), but was still entertaining to read. And as I said: makes me hope that if Saylor continues with detective format, it will be with Diana as the pov character.
Wrath of the Furies, otoh, continues his winning streak of young Gordianus away from Rome. When last we left our youthful hero, he’d just experienced an adventure with pirates in Alexandria, which was great fun to read and a witty play on both ancient and modern literature tropes involved with pirate adventures. This time around, he gets the news that his old tutor Antipater, last seen in the first of the young Gordianus novels, “The Seven Wonders of the World”, might be in dire trouble at the court of King Mithridates, who around 88 BC was on a seemingly unstoppable wave of conquest, fancying himself the new Alexandra, unleashing the resentments the Romans had been busy invoking in the various Greek speaking countries around the Mediterreanean. Which means Gordianus, who is by now fluent in Greek but with an unmistakable Latin accent, can’t come to the rescue as himself, but has to pose as a (mute) Greek from Alexandria, with his slave (and future wife, as the reader of the other novels know) Bethesda “translating” for him.
Compared with the first two books, “Wrath of the Furies” is considerably less light hearted, which is it not surprising given that Mithridates wasn’t kidding around, and there are massacres in the air. There are also contempory parallels if you want to see them, both with the situation of war refugees disdained by a lot of people and with the idea of a superpower faced in a really bloody way with the result of their policies and someone using all that stocked up hatred to their own bloody ends while not being any better. Still, the fact that young Gordianus is a good deal more naive and idealistic than his older self, and that the story doesn’t need to conform to the mystery format - this time around, Saylor has a go at the spy tale, as our hero who originally just wants to make sure his old teacher is okay is blackmailed into doing some spying as well -, and the multicultural mix of people Gordianus is surrounded with both in Alexandria and Ephesus (which is the novel’s main location) continue to make this set of novels feel fresh. The most interesting new character is Gordianus’ neatly mysterious handler, an Alexandrian Jew code named Samson with his own agenda. Hopefully this won’t be the last time we’ve seen him.
Saylor published these two novels just a year apart and might have written them overlapping, because there are some mutual call backs, especially given that Gordianus’ old teacher is a poet, and that the mythical allusions to the Furies and Artemis in one novel are paralleled by the stories of Orpheus and Pentheus in the other. Neither book is a good “entry” - they rely on their readers knowing the regulars already - but if you’ve been following the Roma Sub Rosa series, both are worth your time. To paraphrase the inevitable quote, it’s not that I like “Throne of Caesar” less but that I love “Wrath of Furies” more.
„The Throne of Caesar“ doesn‘t solely cover the most famous Roman murder of them all, it treats one of the murders in its aftermath which you might remember even if you only know the Shakespeare play as its central mystery: the death of Cinna the poet.
In the afterword, Saylor confesses he did toy with the idea of doing what some other authors did, add a twist to Caesar‘s death in order to make it a mystery, but then thought better of it. So Caeser dies according to schedule, by the hands of everyone historians credit and for historical reasons, and to Saylor‘s credit, he manages to make that very expected approaching murder still both suspenseful and wrenching, and this despite the fact both he and his hero Gordianus aren‘t exactly Caesar fans. (Gordianus‘ mixed feelings about Caesar remain mixed to the end, while Saylor‘s take on him manages to capture the charisma and personal charm as well as the utter ruthlessness that a great many dead Gauls could talk about. ) Since Cinna the poet is introduced as a main character of the novel early on, I wasn‘t surprised that it‘s his death, not Caesar‘s, which is the central event everything is gearing up to. Mind you, that very premise I have mixed feelings about. One thing which makes the Cinna story so powerful in all other renditions that bother to include it is that it illustrates mob frenzy, a nonsensical killing coming about because of bad luck and people who’ve just been incited to hate and violence. And when Gordianus initially witnesses it, this is what it appears to be (and as with Caesar’s death, it’s a powerful writing set piece). But because this needs to be a detective story, appearances are deceiving, and the death was, instead, orchestrated. Which, regardless of the solution, to me robs it of the specific emotional power this particular historical circumstances holds for me.
As to the actual solution, while I won’t spoil it, I have problems with it as well. Not only because you could see it coming, but because it contains one writing/plot element I find frustrating, and the fact Saylor lampshades it by mentioning the earlier similar event in dialogue doesn’t help. To wit: both solutions include Gordianus discovering that a good buddy of his, not a man of power but someone “normal”, did something truly revolting for a lengthy period of time. And...we have minimal emotional reaction on his part. I wanted some soul searching and agony on the theme of “knowing this, how do I now feel about X? If I like X still, because years of friendship won’t just go away and all what drew me to X is still true, what does that say about me, and if I now can no longer like X, because the horror is too much, how does that feel?” And I didn’t get it, for the second time. Crickets. Since Saylor otherwise is a good writer and makes these characters emotionally believable to me, this is is especially frustrating.
What I did appreciate about this novel is that Gordianus’ daughter Diana, hitherto as opposed to her brothers confined to cameo appearances much like her mother, this time around has a more prominent role, and one which suggests that Saylor might be thinking of following Lindsey Davis’ lead in making his detective’s daughter the detective heroine of a new set of novels. This might just be what his mystery novels needs, because a female perspective is something he truly hasn’t done before, and it would be a good counterpoint to Gordianus’ occasional tendency to go “women: they’re a mystery!” On us.
(Which, btw, doesn’t mean the Roma Sub Rosa novels don’t contain memorable female characters. Saylor’s take on Clodia (Pulcher) is my absolute favourite, and he’s one of the very few who not only use Fulvia (as in: Clodia’s one time sister in law and later wife of Antony) in novels set during this particular era in a capacity other than “the one before Cleopatra”, but use her prominently as a key figure of the late Republic. (I can’t believe it never occured to me that the violent aftermath of Clodius’ death and funeral - the Roman senate torched - and the aftermath of Caesar’s death and funeral had Fulvia in common.) )
Something that’s both endearing and a bit irritating about “Throne of Caesar” is how meta it is; very consciously a writer writing about the act of writing, not just because Cinna the poet plays such a prominent role but because Gordianus contemplates writing his memoirs and eventually starts doing it, thus bringing us full circle since he finishes this novel dictating the first Roma Sub Rosa novel.
In conclusion: doesn’t rise to the heights of my three favourites of the series (“Catilina’s Riddle”, “The Venus Throw” and “Murder of the Appian Way”), but was still entertaining to read. And as I said: makes me hope that if Saylor continues with detective format, it will be with Diana as the pov character.
Wrath of the Furies, otoh, continues his winning streak of young Gordianus away from Rome. When last we left our youthful hero, he’d just experienced an adventure with pirates in Alexandria, which was great fun to read and a witty play on both ancient and modern literature tropes involved with pirate adventures. This time around, he gets the news that his old tutor Antipater, last seen in the first of the young Gordianus novels, “The Seven Wonders of the World”, might be in dire trouble at the court of King Mithridates, who around 88 BC was on a seemingly unstoppable wave of conquest, fancying himself the new Alexandra, unleashing the resentments the Romans had been busy invoking in the various Greek speaking countries around the Mediterreanean. Which means Gordianus, who is by now fluent in Greek but with an unmistakable Latin accent, can’t come to the rescue as himself, but has to pose as a (mute) Greek from Alexandria, with his slave (and future wife, as the reader of the other novels know) Bethesda “translating” for him.
Compared with the first two books, “Wrath of the Furies” is considerably less light hearted, which is it not surprising given that Mithridates wasn’t kidding around, and there are massacres in the air. There are also contempory parallels if you want to see them, both with the situation of war refugees disdained by a lot of people and with the idea of a superpower faced in a really bloody way with the result of their policies and someone using all that stocked up hatred to their own bloody ends while not being any better. Still, the fact that young Gordianus is a good deal more naive and idealistic than his older self, and that the story doesn’t need to conform to the mystery format - this time around, Saylor has a go at the spy tale, as our hero who originally just wants to make sure his old teacher is okay is blackmailed into doing some spying as well -, and the multicultural mix of people Gordianus is surrounded with both in Alexandria and Ephesus (which is the novel’s main location) continue to make this set of novels feel fresh. The most interesting new character is Gordianus’ neatly mysterious handler, an Alexandrian Jew code named Samson with his own agenda. Hopefully this won’t be the last time we’ve seen him.
Saylor published these two novels just a year apart and might have written them overlapping, because there are some mutual call backs, especially given that Gordianus’ old teacher is a poet, and that the mythical allusions to the Furies and Artemis in one novel are paralleled by the stories of Orpheus and Pentheus in the other. Neither book is a good “entry” - they rely on their readers knowing the regulars already - but if you’ve been following the Roma Sub Rosa series, both are worth your time. To paraphrase the inevitable quote, it’s not that I like “Throne of Caesar” less but that I love “Wrath of Furies” more.
