I had a wonderful library day last week, when two desperately-waited-for books I had ordered came in at the same time: Gwyneth Jones’ Castles Made of Sand (slight SPOILERS to follow) and Colleen McCullough’s The October Horse. The only problem was picking which to read first.
Now I’ve been a diehard fan of the Masters of Rome series since I was fifteen, and I’ve been waiting for this next volume for years, so you’d think it would have won out over a sequel by an author I’d only just discovered. Nah, I’m fickle. Fiorinda came first.
Castles Made of Sand was just as good as the first book -- following on exactly, making the two a whole book, although there is a noticeable difference in identity between the two. For a start, Bold as Love is SF and Castles Made of Sand is fantasy. There are elements of both genres throughout, but I’d argue that distinction for hours if anyone wanted to go up against me. It was more satisfying than I hoped it would be, and you have to admire an author whose characters are so lifelike that you live in constant terror, page after page, that she’s going to do something terrible to them. And, of course, she does. The homage to the Big Three of the Arthurian stories is made a touch more obvious in this second book (but not so much as to be annoying, just loving touches here and there). I’m very anti-Arthurian as a fantasy cliche, but this was subtle and beautiful. Because I’d seen that pattern, I knew Sage would rescue Fiorinda from the burning stake, but that didn’t make it any less satisfying to read.
My only problem now is getting up the courage to read all the other Gwyneth Jones books because I’m convinced they won’t be as good. Mind you, that’s what I kept thinking about Connie Willis books and they kept being good, but it is best to read brilliant authors gradually, so as not to lose the subtleties in a gluttonous blur (which is always a temptation for me, reading as fast as I do).
Speaking of a gluttonous blur, when I did get to October Horse that’s exactly what I did. (and yes there will be lots of SPOILERS but I knew the history before I started the book and it didn’t spoil it at all) When I read the first of this series, the First Man in Rome, I knew almost nothing about the ancient world. That was my first year of college. Now I’ve been studying ancient Rome on and off for the last seven years, four of those in fairly dense research, just as the last book of this brilliant, epic series comes to an end. I’m also now mature enough to read the whole of each book instead of skipping all the war bits like I did when I was fifteen.
McCullough’s interpretation of the historical characters is masterful, always true to the sources but never the most obvious interpretation. I consider it quite a tragedy that she won’t continue the books any further through the Augustan era, since I would love to be able to compare her version of the years so closely covered by Suetonius and Robert Graves. I was also quite sad not to see Livia making an appearance in these books (although she gets a throwaway reference), since I would love to see what kind of human McCullough sees her as.
The Caesar of these books is a marvellous, powerful character who totally dominates the stage, although he is equalled in October Horse by a very young counterpart (and of course, eventual replacement), Octavian. We see the young, sharp but sensitive Octavian take on the mantle of his legendary relative, and see the metamorphosis from bookish boy to hard, political monster. The paradox between the young, almost psychopathic Octavian and the sharp, successful and benevolent ruler Augustus that he eventually became has always held fascination for historians, and McCullough conveys this from the other direction, driving him towards monstrous behavior and attitudes that later, under different circumstances as his rule becomes more secure, are no longer necessary.
The interpretation of Cleopatra was entirely refreshing, getting away from the ridiculous promiscuity and archness that is traditional (and has been since Octavian first put his propaganda machine working over time to sabotage her reputation). The relationship between the fifty-something Caesar and teenage Pharaoh makes sense here, she searching for a living god to continue her line and Egyptian traditions, and he perfectly willing to oblige. The relationship between Cleopatra and Antony, though not actively dealt here, is explained -- to the Ptolemies of Alexandria, incest is a spiritual necessity to strengthen the blood, and Cleopatra was short of Ptolemies to breed with (or to marry her son by Caesar) meaning that if young Caesarion was to have a bride/sister of his own blood, she needed a Julian to father the rest of her children. Since Octavian was too priggish to oblige (perfectly within character!) she had to wait for a Roman of Julian blood to visit Egypt... and Antony, of course, had a Julia for a mother.
It is important for this to make sense because McCullough’s Antony is a truly despicable character (finally someone who doesn’t romanticise him!) and it would have been hard to imagine the future events without this clue.
This is, as I have probably already said, a brilliant epic, particularly for those who have followed the characters all the way through. We have Cato’s last march, Cicero’s brief moment of political glory before it all falls to pieces, Servilia’s increasing nastiness, and, of course, the death of Caesar. Having visited the forum for the first time in the last year, as well as the site of Pompey’s theatre, it was so easy to imagine how the events transpired. When it came to the actual assassination I was weeping floods (yes, I knew it was coming, but I _really_ love Caesar, particular at how gruesome it was -- necessarily, of course. The death of Caesar was truly horrible, even for those who killed him, and I think it has to be one of the best death scenes I’ve ever read (and there are a lot in this book).
The only other bit which brought tears to my eyes (and for a total fangirl reason, not sadness) was the meeting of Agrippa and Octavian. If you know your Roman history, you’ll know exactly what I’m talking about. If you don’t -- why not? Go apply to do a course at your local Classics Department!
The only negative thing I have to say about the book is the writing itself. The story carries you through tirelessly, but the grammar was distractingly bad. Where are all the editors? Particularly annoying was the use of incomplete sentences and missing verbs (what I assumed was) for the sake of emphasis, which rendered paragraph after paragraph incredibly hard to read. I then edited a story of mine which I was submitting to Forever Shores, and pulled out a few of these! It may imply emphasis but if a sentence doesn’t make sense, the reader will get annoyed!
Really long post, I know, but they were really long books! Really really long. Now I have Dave Luckett’s latest Rhianna book to read... I’ve complained in the past that these are far too short considering how good they are, but this time I think I’ll welcome it!
