Biography of Caesar

[Gladius Hispaniensis]

Ave

I just got Adrian Goldsworthy's biography of Caesar from the public library. It's a daunting book. I just want some input from fellow forum members before venturing to read it. Is it worth reading? Thx in advance.

[The Augusta]

Ave

I just got Adrian Goldsworthy's biography of Caesar from the public library. It's a daunting book. I just want some input from fellow forum members before venturing to read it. Is it worth reading? Thx in advance.

 

There was a general discussion here Gladius and the book has been reviewed on the Forum by our member Favonius here

 

Hope this helps. I haven't read the book myself, however.

Edited May 10, 2007 by The Augusta

[M. Porcius Cato]

Goldsworthy is very good on Caesar's campaign in Gaul, but I found the rest of the biography to be boring, pedestrian, unimaginative, and non-comittal.

[Gladius Hispaniensis]

Thank you Augusta. Silly of me not to do a forum search before starting a new topic.

MPC are you done with the book?

[M. Porcius Cato]

Yes. In fairness, I should say that Goldsworthy is a good writer, and the biography is quite accessible. Still, Meier's biography is the best yet written.

[Gladius Hispaniensis]

Yes. In fairness, I should say that Goldsworthy is a good writer, and the biography is quite accessible. Still, Meier's biography is the best yet written.

I'm done with the book MPC. I have to agree with your comments. The military history part is excellent, as could be expected from Goldsworthy, the other stuff not so much. The Catiline conspiracy bored me to death. I'll try to get a hold of Meier's book. I'm coming after you if it dissapoints me

[Bryaxis Hecatee]

Here is a professional review of the book by a Yale professor which I just got in my mail :

 

 

 

Adrian Goldsworthy, Caesar, Life of a Colossus. New Haven: Yale

University Press, 2006. Pp. 519. ISBN 978-0-300-12048-6. $35.00.

 

Reviewed by Josh Levithan, Yale University (joshua.leviathan@yale.edu)

Word count: 1523 words

-------------------------------

To read a print-formatted version of this review, see

http://ccat.sas.upenn.edu/bmcr/2007/2007-05-35.html

-------------------------------

 

Adrian Goldsworthy's recent biography of Caesar adds a large (519

pages) book to a formidable pile. Goldsworthy's extensive body of work

on the Roman army has greatly advanced our understanding of Roman

military behavior, particularly the interplay of physical and

psychological factors, and his The Roman Army at War remains the most

indispensable work on its subject. This biography, while animated by a

similar interest in studying human activity with a strong sense of

cultural immediacy, is a more traditional sort of work, sketching an

outline of Caesar, "a great man," against his many contexts -- Roman

society, the politics of the senate, Gaul, the army.

 

The book is friendly to both specialist and non-specialist, and those

Roman historians who are inclined to sit down in a comfortable chair

with a big book in their own field will find here a comprehensive and

very readable review of Caesar's life and times. But this is also to

say that there is not much here that seems to be new. Many questions

that have been subjects of recent scholarly debate are, of course,

touched upon, but this is a biography, and so the narrative structure

and pacing derive from Caesar's life -- from, that is, the most

detailed of the ancient sources. This leads, as the book proceeds, to

the sensation that one is on a long guided tour, uncertain precisely

where the guide will turn next, or why. In many ways this is a good

thing. Goldsworthy does well to shake the reader free of the casual

determinism that comes with reading about the most familiar and famous

historical figures, and to remind us of the many gambles, strange

turns, and unlikely incidents in Caesar's career. Besides, an

unpredictable succession of subjects is rather appropriate to a life of

an energetic Roman aristocrat, in that we must wander as Caesar's

career in fact did. Given its size and its generally useful endnotes,

this book would be a very good gateway for historians or classicists

seeking information about a variety of Caesar-related topics -- but for

that purpose it is rather too long to do other than dip in, here and

there, by means of the index and footnotes.

 

As a biography that, in following Caesar, covers many topics in Roman

history in considerable depth, this is an impressive achievement.

Goldsworthy, in the first cohort of academic prose stylists, is highly

readable, managing to be very informative without being in the least

overbearing. I recently purchased the book as a birthday gift for my

father-in-law, a history buff and an avid reader prone to cross-country

train journeys, as well as a fan of the "Rome" television series who

might profit from a more nutritious historical meal.

 

Still, the academic reader may be reminded why chronological

cross-sections and subject studies are generally more useful than

biography. The fundamental aim of the book seems to be to put the

"great man" (page 1) in a detailed Roman context, perhaps to bridge

non-specialist biography and academic Roman history. I do not consider

myself the sort of historian who is antagonistic, on principle, to

studies of powerful men, but I must confess to frustration with

Goldsworthy's attention to the question of "greatness," especially

inasmuch as it required recurring reference to Napoleon. It's a

slippery thing, and, if it is to be defined other than simply as

"extremely successful," I'm not sure I understand why Caesar was, in

particular, great.

 

Rather than taking away a new sense of Caesar's life, character, or

historical role, I experienced the book as a sequence of studies of

Roman history, centered on Caesar. The sections on his early life are,

necessarily, dependent on frustrating sources, and the repetition of

phrases such as "it is quite possible" and "on the balance it seems

likely" can make for heavy going. Yet the narrative momentum of

Caesar's life, once underway, is often interrupted by potted

biographies of other senators (that of Crassus is notably well-wrought)

and by long chapters on Roman politics that shade from "context" into

case study (I am not sure that any writer could make the dense

intrigues of the 60s into prose that I would find compelling, and

Goldsworthy does yeoman's work) and thus create a problem of scale --

they are too lumpy to be easily digested into Caesar's context and yet

still too small to leave the uninitiated reader with a good

understanding of, for example, Catulus, or Catiline and his crew. (To

that end, it bears mentioning that, while the black and white

photographs and occasional diagrams are helpful, some sort of graphic

representation of the senatorial interrelationships, both familial and

political, would have been welcome.) Another problem of the

relationship between history and biography is that certain fun little

bits of information turn up in odd places, but they read as

Goldsworthy's interjections into the breathing-pauses of Caesar's own

narration (e.g. Catullus' scandalous verses on Caesar, mentioned during

a winter lull in the narrative of the Gallic Wars). I find digressions

such as this to be quite pleasant, but they contribute to the

kitchen-sink exhaustion that may overtake some readers. Similarly, the

drumbeat of military-political events becomes so dominant in the middle

and latter stages of the book that even well-known events that must

have affected Caesar personally -- most important of all being the

death of Julia, in 54 -- read like speculative diversions from the

"real story." Both of these instances, these parenthetical events on

the route-march to greatness, lead to the sense that, as far as

narrative structure is concerned, the great man is still imposing his

will on his biographers.

 

Many sections of the book are very good, marked by lively prose and a

judicious sense of historical detail. In particular, Goldsworthy is

masterful on military matters and makes many useful observations on

Caesar's battles and campaigns. Goldsworthy's renderings of important

events, even much-discussed incidents (e.g. the shield-grab at the

Sambre), make for much better illustrations of Roman generalship in the

context of this book than they do in a chrestomathy of battlefield

incidents or a capsule description of Caesar's leadership. Goldsworthy

does very well indeed in describing the fascinating process of bonding,

of growing trust and mutual military enthusiasm, between the

amateur/aristocrat general, fresh from the forum, and his army.

However, the large central section on Caesar in Gaul (over a third of

the book) had the effect, for this reviewer, of replacing all memories

of Caesar the senator and Caesar the politician with Caesar the

general. Goldsworthy does well to emphasize the astonishing nature of

the transformation from upstart politician into brilliant military

leader, yet the transformation remains mysterious (as, given the

weakness of the sources, it may always be). Yet this middle section,

on Gaul, works so closely from the text of the de Bello Gallico, and at

such length, that I found myself wishing that Goldsworthy had written a

commentary on that work instead. As I'm sure Goldsworthy would agree,

the ambitious reader would do better to read Caesar's own description

of the battle than a reconstruction, however skillful. (Aninteresting, and very welcome, innovation is the use of numerals foreven the smallest of numbers: once one is accustomed to this usage, the

campaign-descriptions, shot through with repeated reference to the

mileage of military maneuvers, seem easier to manage.)

 

This review may do a disservice to Goldsworthy, since I have not read

many representatives of that genre of context-heavy biographies of

major historical figures, the books to which Goldsworthy's Caesar might

more fruitfully be compared. Given his deep knowledge of the subject

-- especially its military dimensions -- and his lively and effective

prose style, his book should measure up well against the better

biographies of Napoleon, Churchill, or Wellington -- whom he variously

invokes by way of comparison to Caesar -- with which many of its

intended readers may be familiar. An enjoyable epilogue on the

ramifications of Caesar's personality in modern popular culture nods to

these broad horizons, and to the extra-historical context that Caesar's

greatness would demand. But as a work of Roman history this book is at

once highly informative and somewhat ungainly, and it adds little to

our understanding of Caesar or his period. Goldsworthy's tome makes a

better case for the richness of Roman culture, politics, and warfare as

subjects of historical inquiry than it does for the peculiar greatness

of Caesar. There are many trenchant observations, many good chapters

(and perhaps there could have been several tight little books instead

of one rather sprawling one), and there is much that even an expert in

some of the areas covered by Goldsworthy could learn about other

subjects gathered up between the same set of covers. So, while seeking

to ignore those appraising, over-the-shoulder glances -- of Napoleon at

Caesar, Caesar at Alexander, Alexander at Achilles -- that disrupt

Caesar, Life of a Colossus from time to time, I will no doubt find

frequent use for this book in my work as a Roman historian, turning to

it for refreshment, and for introductions to many of the aspects and

incidents of Caesar's life and times.

[M. Porcius Cato]

This review may do a disservice to Goldsworthy, since I have not read

many representatives of that genre of context-heavy biographies of

major historical figures, the books to which Goldsworthy's Caesar might

more fruitfully be compared.

 

I have read many "representatives of that genre of context-heavy biographies", and the author didn't do a disservice to Goldsworthy. As I've remarked, Meier's biography is very context-heavy (almost more about Caesar's Rome than about Caesar, really), but Meier's biography is forceful, coherent, and integrative in ways that Goldsworthy's is not.

[The Augusta]

On this very topic - Julius Caesar and Augustus must be two of the most written about figures in Roman history (judging by modern authors, that is). I know that we must always take account of new advances in scholarship and perhaps new evidence arising from archaeology and the like, but there comes a time when we reach saturation point. Theories come into fashion and go out again, but even allowing for this, is there really - in all honesty - still room in the market for yet more biographies of the same figures, over and over again? I would much prefer to see authors researching other men who have perhaps not received the same attention, to fill gaps in our knowledge for instance. I do realise that figures like Caesar, Augustus, Constantine etc. were men that could be seen to have had a great effect on the history of the world, and therefore it is understandable that authors are drawn to them, but wouldn't it advance and deepen our study of the Roman world if 'lesser' men were highlighted? I love 'the glamour boys' as much as anyone else, but I do know I've reached the stage now where I really would not cross the road to go into Waterstones to buy 'yet another biography of Augustus'.

 

I had promised to buy myself the Goldsworthy, but now after reading the comments on the thread from all the members of our forum whose opinions I respect, I doubt I'll be bothering.

 

Do other members ever feel sated in this way? I am not talking about monographs now, so much as the conventional biography.

Edited May 25, 2007 by The Augusta

[Ursus]

I generally enjoy the standard biographies of "great men in social context." If the individual and society in question are interesting enough in their own right, then I'll find the book interesting enough to at least finish.

 

I prefer when historians allow the facts to speak for themselves. I consider myself smart enough to form my own conclusions of those facts, and most people here are smart enough to do the same.

 

When a historian proposes some sweeping new assessment of a well-known figure, they better have an extremely articulate argument backed up by solid research. When they propose a revision that is not supported, they come across as hacks who cynically attempted a new angel in a desperate attempt to sell books.

 

This was my problem with Everitt - his introduction asserts Augustus allowed Livia to poison him in order to provide a peaceful transition for Tiberius. An intriguing idea, and it gets a hook in you, demanding you to read more. The rest of the book, however, does not really build upon that hypothesis at all. Consequently I dismissed the author as a con man.

 

Goldsworthy's Caesar did not have anything new, as has been stated. Geltzer managed to say the same thing in half the words. But Goldsworthy's prose is easier to follow, and his attention to military matters more precise, so I suppose it does a service in that regard.

 

I too would love to see some biographies on lesser known figures, like Sejanus.

[sonic]

I'm done with the book MPC. I have to agree with your comments. The military history part is excellent, as could be expected from Goldsworthy, the other stuff not so much. The Catiline conspiracy bored me to death. I'll try to get a hold of Meier's book. I'm coming after you if it dissapoints me

 

Goldsworthy's Caesar did not have anything new, as has been stated. Geltzer managed to say the same thing in half the words. But Goldsworthy's prose is easier to follow, and his attention to military matters more precise, so I suppose it does a service in that regard.

 

I too would love to see some biographies on lesser known figures, like Sejanus.

 

I actually like the book. The military history part is excellent, but to suggest that 'The Catiline conspiracy bored me to death' is to miss the point. Many other biographers tend to focus upon the exciting aspects of historical figures' lives, such as Caesar's Gallic campaign, or the reign of emperors like Caligula.

 

Yet these books are not biographies. A biography tells us as much as is known about these people, whether or not the individual finds it boring. In fact, many political historians will be fascinated by the machinations inherent in the Catiline Conspiracy.

 

It is fair to say that you found a section to be dull, as it did not corrspond to your personal interests, but to say that it 'bored you to death' may be seen as portraying a narrowness of interest that may not, in fact, be true.

 

On the other hand, the difficulty with writing biographies on 'lesser known figures' is usually that they are not well documented or well known. When a publisher commissions a book, they want at least 60-70,000 words. Would a biographer of Sejanus be able to write so much without resorting to phrases such as 'it may be that', or 'we do not know for certain, but ...'? Possibly not.

 

But then we come to the other problem. If, as a writer, you want to make a living writing a book on Sejanus, it probably would not pay enough. And which publisher would print it? Most wish to make a profit, and, sorry to say, many such 'minority' interest figures will remain unknown except to a very few. As a consequence, publishers tend to stick to the big names that they know will sell, hence the number of books on Caesar and Hannibal, and the complete dearth on Corbulo or even Marius.

 

Finally, let me make something clear. I agree that the Catiline Conspiracy is a little dull, in that I am not really interested in the political life of Rome, only in the actions of a few, such as Caesar, Pompey etc. This probably makes me a very shallow person! I don't care.

 

Some biographies of 'lesser known' figures, such as Romulus Augustulus, are now being produced and I am very grateful for it. However, I would love to see a biography of Claudius II Gothicus, yet I know that this is unlikely to happen as not enough is known about him to make a full length book. I wish that a publisher would have the nerve to publish a book containing a few small, potted biographies of people such as Sejanus and Claudius II in one volume, so making the book the required size and fulfilling my desires to be a pedantic anorak.

 

Alas, it will probably never happen. It would not sell enough copies to be financially viable.

 

Until then, we can only dream and hope that at some time in the future ......

[The Augusta]

On the other hand, the difficulty with writing biographies on 'lesser known figures' is usually that they are not well documented or well known. When a publisher commissions a book, they want at least 60-70,000 words. Would a biographer of Sejanus be able to write so much without resorting to phrases such as 'it may be that', or 'we do not know for certain, but ...'? Possibly not.

 

But then we come to the other problem. If, as a writer, you want to make a living writing a book on Sejanus, it probably would not pay enough. And which publisher would print it? Most wish to make a profit, and, sorry to say, many such 'minority' interest figures will remain unknown except to a very few. As a consequence, publishers tend to stick to the big names that they know will sell, hence the number of books on Caesar and Hannibal, and the complete dearth on Corbulo or even Marius.

 

This point holds for more populist historians, Sonic, but in academic publishing, neither the author nor the publisher is out to make money in anything like the quantities a more popular imprint would. I have worked in academic publishing and our commissioning editors would present prospective new titles to the editorial board from the university attached to the publishing house, and as long as the basic costs of production were cleared with a small margin for profit, the book would probably go ahead. The board were much more interested in authors breaking new ground in scholarship than promoting best-sellers. Therefore, I think you are right when you say that Macmillan or Random House, say, would not be likely to publish a work on Sejanus; these are big houses who look for huge sales figures. But an established academic imprint like Cambridge University Press, for instance, or even a smaller one such as Edinburgh or Manchester may well take a shot on a biography of someone like Sejanus.

 

We have to remember too, that academic authors do not often rely solely on the profits of their writing to live. There would be some pretty poor authors out there, if that were the case. They are already well-established in their academic posts and their prime objective in writing is to contribute to their own areas of scholarship, rather than become the next big pop historian.

 

So, the bottom line is: we will probably never see a biography of Tigellinus or Plautianus published by Bantam or Random House, but we could possibly see some sort of work on these figures issuing from an academic imprint.

Edited May 26, 2007 by The Augusta

[M. Porcius Cato]

BTW, if anyone is interested, there is an interesting biography of Labienus that you can download for free.