The Emperor Hadrian: A Character Study

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antinous, emperor hadrian, hadrian, hadrian's character, roman emperors, the character of hadrian

The Emperor Hadrian has become known to modern audiences as one of the Five Good Emperors, who reigned over the Roman Empire at its height.  However, there has been some amount of scholarly disagreement about his actual character (as much as such a thing can be known from this great historical distance).  What are we to make of this man who has become well-known for his passionate love of the youth Antinous, yet may have been responsible for his death, this friend of the Senate who ultimately put several of them to death?

To start with, it is important to recognize the complexity that must of necessity be a part of any ruler’s personality, especially those of the Roman Emperors.  While Frank McLynn, in his masterful biography of Marcus Aurelius, suggests that Hadrian was just short of being a psychopath, Anthony Everitt offers us a more nuanced portrait of the man behind the imperial mask.  It is precisely this complexity that  I would argue makes Hadrian more than just a terrifyingly fickle neurotic, prone to executed men at whim.

All of this is not say, however, that Hadrian was the polished and perfect exemplar of Roman virtue that he has become in the minds of many (including myself).  He was no coward, but he was also not as martially inclined as his predecessor Trajan, as we can see from his policy of containment and his abandonment of Trajan’s conquests in the East.  However, rather than seeing this as a mark of cowardice, we should instead see it as a mark of one of Hadrian’s most dominant characteristics:  his pragmatism.  Knowing that he could not hope to defend those boundaries effectively, he decided to withdraw the Empire to within bounds that could, indeed, be defended.

More pernicious, however, is the suggestion that Hadrian might have been complicit in the death of his lover Antinous.  There can be little doubt that he was ill at the time, but would he really have been able to sacrifice the love of his life for his own health and betterment?  Although his pragmatism might have advised him to do so, I think it more likely that Antinous drowned himself in an attempt to help his benefactor and lover regain his lost vitality.  The suggestion that the youth killed himself in an attempt to escape from the dishonour that would have attached itself to him for continuing to be the penetrated despite his advance into adulthood reads to me more like the embittered opinions of modern thinkers who have never reconciled themselves to the idea that same-sex relationships could be happy in the past.

Finally, we come to the most damning evidence against Hadrian, his notorious purges in the last years of his life, which included his ancient brother-in-law.  It is true that Hadrian was notoriously prickly and prone to violent outbursts (he was reputed to have stabbed a slave in the eye in a fit of pique), but these last purges are, I believe, the symptoms of his rapidly declining health and, just as importantly, his ever-present pragmatism.  He knew what could (and often did) happen when there were too many heirs to the throne, and he wanted to ensure that Marcus Aurelius and Lucius Verus, his chosen heirs, remained stable and secure on their thrones.  However, at this late stage in his life, with death knocking at the door (but refusing to enter), it is small wonder that he resorted to such dark and dangerous depths to ensure a smooth succession after his death.

So, while there can be no excuse for Hadrian’s cruelty toward the Senators, we can nevertheless see that, above all, he was a pragmatic man who had a shrewd grasp of affairs in Rome.  It remains to be seen whether his reputation will continue to withstand the test of time and the ever-changing evaluations of scholars and biographers.

Sources and References

Everitt, Anthony.  Hadrian and the Triumph of Rome.

McLynn, Frank.  Marcus Aurelius:  A Life.

The Five Good Emperors: Rome’s Golden Age

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ancient rome, antoninus pius, five good emperors, hadrian, marcus aurelius, nerva, roman emperor biographies, roman emperors, roman empire, roman imperial biographies, trajan

The Five Good Emperors have gone down in history as the five best rulers that Rome ever produced, standing at the apex of Roman civilization.  After the death of Marcus Aurelius and the ascension of his son Commodus the Empire would never be the same, and even the relatively stable reign of Septimius Severus was merely a prelude to the chaos and bloodshed of the Crisis of the Third Century (which resulted after the assassination of his great-nephew Alexander Severus).  The Five Good Emperors, thus, ruled over a time of unrivaled peace and prosperity, during which time the Empire flourished and attained a stability it would never again enjoy during its centuries-long existence.

Nerva-The first of these men, Nerva, was a man of Senatorial rank who rose to prominence during the reign of the Flavian Dynasty, including the Emperors Vespasian, Titus, and Domitian.  Upon Domitian’s assassination (in which Nerva might have had a part), he was elevated to the purple.  He was an old man, however and, faced with a revolt of the Praetorians (the emperor’s personal bodyguard), he adopted a popular general named Trajan.  When he died shortly thereafter, power passed peacefully into the hands of his successor.

Trajan-Trajan is one of the few Roman emperors whose reputation has remain largely unchanged between the past and the present.  Widely regarded as one of (if not the) best of the Roman emperors, he was very active militarily, leading successful military excursions against the Dacians (celebrated on the famous Trajan’s Column), and against the Parthians.  Under him the Empire reached its greatest territorial extent, and he came as close as any Roman Emperor to finally ending the threat from the East once and for all.  However, during his last campaign he fell ill and, with his wife Plotina beside him, he died (possibly of a stroke).

Hadrian-Although Trajan had been notoriously ambiguous about who was to succeed him, Hadrian was lucky enough to have the dowager Empress on his side, and she helped him to ascend to the purple.  Once there, he set about organizing the Empire, withdrawing from several of Trajan’s conquests, instead setting boundaries to Rome’s territorial expansion.  He was also an active builder and a heartfelt Philhellene (lover of Greek culture).  He is also well-known for his abiding and powerful love for the Bithynian boy Antinoos, who perished by drowning in the Nile.  Faced with illness and imminent death, Hadrian adopted Antoninus Pius as his heir, with the understanding that his young cousin Marcus Aurelius would succeed him.

Antoninus Pius-Like his predecessor, Antoninus Pius preferred peace to war, and he mostly ruled from Rome (in contrast to Hadrian, who spent a large part of his reign traveling to different parts of his vast domains).  He was also known for his devotion to his predecessor’s memory, insisting on his deification over the Senate’s opposition.  His reign was known as a peaceful one, and the succession passed without incident to his adopted son Marcus Aurelius and Lucius Verus (who would die of a stroke not long into his reign).

Marcus Aurelius-Few emperors have as good a reputation as Marcus Aurelius, famous as much for his philosophy as for his achievements as an Emperor.  He would resume the militaristic activities of other Roman Emperors who preceded him, in particular against the Germanic tribes.  With his wife Faustina he produced an enormous brood of children, including a son, Commodus.  For all of his much-vaunted wisdom, Marcus Aurelius fell into the trap of assuming that a dynasty based on a bloodline was a good idea, and so the throne passed to Commodus, whose reign would be marred by his eccentricity and his bad ruling.  The rule of the Five Good Emperors had come to an end.

Although the reign of the Five Good Emperors saw the height of Roman glory and power in the ancient world, their achievements would, alas, prove all too ephemeral as a result of the foolishness of their successors, they should nevertheless be accorded their share of praise for ensuring that the Roman Empire lasted as long as it did.

Sources and Further Reading

Anthony Everitt, Hadrian and the Triumph of Rome.

Michael Grant, The Antonines:  The Roman Empire in Transition.

Frank McLynn.  Marcus Aurelius:  A Life.

The Women of the Severan Dynasty Part One: The Two Julias

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julia domna, julia maesa, roman empire, roman empress, roman empresses, septimius severus, severan dynasty, syrian dynasty

In honour of my in-progress Novel, I thought I would post a brief description of the lives of my two heroines, sisters named Julia Domna and Julia Maesa, both of whom were daughters of a man named Julius Bassianus.  They grew up in the city of Emesa, a religious center located in Syria.  Through their own initiative, Domna and Maesa would become enormously politically influential.

Julia Domna

Born (probably) as the younger daughter, it was not always obvious that Domna would one day aspire to the highest position a woman could achieve in the Roman Empire.  However, there are stories that her horoscope foretold that she would marry a king which, as it happens, came true when she married Septimius Severus, a cunning and ruthless Roman soldier who would go on to become Roman Emperor.

Domna soon proved herself an able consort, giving birth to two sons (later known as Caracalla and Geta), and proving her commitment to learning.  She is said to have gathered an influential circle of intellectuals around her, giving rise to her reputation as the philosopher empress.  However, she also had to contend with the tireless hatred of her husband’s favourite, a man named Plautianus, and it would take all of her skill and political will to avoid being pulled down.

She survived her husband’s death and became a prominent figure in her sons’ court, where she handled much of the imperial correspondence.  She continued in this capacity even after her elder son Caracalla had his younger brother assassinated.  However, upon his own assassination several years later, she starved herself to death (although it was also rumoured that she was suffering from a disease that was probably breast cancer).

Julia Maesa

Just like her sister, Maesa was a ruthless schemer who knew what she needed to do to get things done.  Although her husband Julius Avitus was something of a non-entity (though he did serve in several minor political offices), he did manage to produce two daughters with Maesa, daughters Bassiana and Avita.

From all appearances, Maesa played a fairly prominent role in her sister’s court, probably serving as an adviser.  Her husband’s career certainly advanced, probably as a result of her influence.  However, her influence appeared to come to an end when her nephew and her sister died in quick succession.  When the usurper Macrinus took the throne, he banished her back to Emesa, though he allowed her to keep her substantial wealth.

And she went on to put this wealth to good use.  She conspired with other locals in order to have her grandson Varius elevated to the purple and, when the time came to take the battle to Macrinus, she is supposed to have been right there in the thick of it.  She was successful, and her grandson ascended the throne.

However, he proved to be unsatisfactory as an Emperor, due to his religious zealousness and his penchant for behaving in ways deemed inappropriate for his gender and his social/political position.  Maesa therefore convinced him to adopt his younger cousin Alexianus as an heir, then promptly conspired with the Praetorians to have her elder grandson, as well as his mother (her daughter, you will remember) assassinated.  She probably died fairly early in the reign of her grandson Alexianus (who would become known as Alexander Severus).

Clearly, the women of the Severan Dynasty were formidable opponents, and they knew how to attain power in a world that was still largely dominated by men.  I can only hope that my Novel, if and when it is published, does justice to their extraordinary lives and talents.

The Goals of Historical Fiction

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goals of historical fiction, historical fiction, historical fiction goals, historical film, historical television

With the recent growth of historical fiction, in both literature and film and television, some people might be wondering…what exactly is the goal of creating historical fiction?  How does this differ from the goals of other historically-oriented products such as non-fiction books (biographies, etc.) and documentaries?  Well, here are a few of those goals, at least as I see them (as both an aspiring novelist and a consumer of quite a lot of historical fiction).

An Increased Knowledge of Personal Perspectives

Even the best biography or nonfiction historical book has its limits when it comes to allowing us to understand how particular historical figures felt.  Since they operate under (quite reasonable) restrictions structured around the burden of proof, they do not like to offer us too much of a historical figure’s thoughts, because those thoughts cannot be reconstructed with any certainty.  A novelist, however, is freed from those constraints and so is able to allow us to enter into the mind of various historical figures, to see and feel a particular version of what they might have said and felt.  The best historical novelists are able to do this without making us aware of the mechanics of what they are doing.

An Insider’s View of the Past

Similarly, historical novels, filled as they should be with details that paint the world around us, allow us to enter into a space that, by the logics of time and space, we cannot truly achieve.  For the time that we are reading the novel (or watching the film, television show, etc.) we can feel as if we really are there, watching as gladiators fight to death in the arena or a queen like Elizabeth struggles to keep her throne in the face of constant plotting against her life.  The license and the type of writing employed by novelists allows them to construct a particular vision of the past that is not always allowed to biographers and historians.

The Privileging of Underprivileged Perspectives 

Finally, we come to this, which is arguably one of the most important goals of historical fiction, especially that which seeks to shine a light on the experiences of traditionally ignored groups, such as women and members of the LGBT community.  By allowing us a glimpse into the lives and struggles of these groups, historical fiction helps to fill a gap often left by more mainstream treatments and allows us to see the very real effects that such marginalization had upon the lives of those people.

The next time you pick up a historical fiction novel, keep these goals in mind.  While they are not exhaustive, nor all-encompassing, they are some of the things that seem to permeate much of the historical fiction currently on the market.  They are also those things that I strive (self-consciously) for in my own fiction.  Thus, rather than serving as mere escapism, historical novels actually have a number of important and vital functions to play in our culture, and they provide another perspective to the historical documents that so often dominate discussions of the past.

Augustus: A Brief Character Study

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ancient rome, augustus, augustus biography, roman emperor, roman emperors, roman empire

Although Augustus has gone down in history as Rome’s first emperor, it is also worth considering what kinds of a human being he was, what motivated him, what kept him going, and what allowed him to ascend to the heights that he did.  Like all people, he was riddled with contradictions, capable of great cruelty but also great beneficence.

Above all, Augustus felt that he was divinely blessed, and that it was his responsibility as Caesar’s heir to ensure that his grand-uncle’s vision for the future of Rome should come to pass.  To that end, he did everything he could to ensure that he appropriated authority and power to himself while also maintaining an outward appearance of obeying the Republican principles upon which Roman society was based.  Indeed, it was his uncanny ability to make everyone believe in his own mythology that really sets Augustus apart as one of the greatest rulers of history (if we judge greatness by an ability to make others do one’s bidding).   He almost certainly did not believe in the by now outdated principles of republican government, but he was canny enough to realize the necessity of making other people believe that he did.

Of course, Augustus would not have been able to achieve what he did without the support of two very important people, his wife Livia Drusilla and his best friend and almost co-ruler Marcus Vipsanius Agrippa.  Although he would have numerous affairs on the former and frequently fought with the latter, he also knew that these were the two foundation stones upon which his reign was based, and he remained mostly loyal to them throughout his life.

However, other members of his family would often suffer at his hands, revealing his own often conflicted views on family loyalty.  When his daughter Julia was discovered to have engaged in lewd behaviour, he had her banished to a remote isle and refused to see her again, and he ruthlessly orchestrated marriages within his family to ensure the furtherance and continued health of his dynasty.  While family was clearly very important to Augustus, what mattered more was the maintenance of power and the prestige of his dynasty and of himself.  Though he was well-known to have voracious sexual appetites, he could not tolerate the same things in other people, especially when those appetites brought shame on him.  Thus, his ruthless and heartless punishment of his own daughter.

Clearly, Augustus was a man of many sides.  He was an autocrat who maintained the trappings of a vanished system of representative government.  He was a man who punished infidelity and sexual malfeasance in others yet was known for cheating on his own wife.  He was a man who esteemed family loyalty and family connections among all other things, yet he was more than willing to banish his own daughter when her behaviour became a liability.  Yet for all of this, he was also one of the most successful rulers that the Roman Empire ever had, and it is for this reason that he has gone down in history as one of the world’s greatest rulers.

The Kingmakers of England

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English history, english kings, english queens, jane grey, john dudley, kingmaker, richard neville, wars of the roses

Although England’s kings take the lion’s share of space in most history books, it is important to remember that many of them were brought to their position of power by other men behind the throne, whom we could accurately call “kingmakers.”  From the scheming and opportunistic Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick to the unscrupulous John Dudley, these men attempted to claim the power for themselves and in the end paid the ultimate price.

Richard Neville

When it comes to kingmakers, Richard Neville certainly tops the list, largely because of the pivotal role that he played in the Wars of the Roses.  Although he began as a staunch supporter of the Yorkist cause, he was not above turning his coat when the opportunity arose, ultimately throwing his power behind Henry V in his bid to regain the throne.  Of course, such treachery did not go unpunished, and he ultimately paid the price for his cavalier attitude toward his onetime Yorkist allies.   One of his daughters, the ill-fated Anne, would go on to become the wife of Richard III of England, although her reign would be brief and filled with sadness (see here for more details).  His other daughter would also marry a member of the York family, thus indicating his willingness to use his daughters for his own political ends (a trait very common among male family leaders in that era).

John Dudley

English history is full of unscrupulous dukes who would stop at nothing to gain the power that they felt they deserved, and none is more villainous than John Dudley, Duke of Northumberland.  As Alison Weir has ably demonstrated, he was willing to do whatever he could to gain more power for himself, even if that meant putting the country itself in peril.  Although he was quite able to manipulate King Edward VI to do his bidding (including convincing the young king to execute his uncle Edward Seymour), his most formidable influence came with the young woman Jane Grey, who would reign for nine days.  Of course, the only reason she agreed to accept the throne was because of the manipulations and schemings of Dudley, who even went so far as to marry her to his son in an attempt to appropriate more power for himself.  Unfortunately, all of his well-laid plans ultimately came to naught, as he fell from power when his forces were defeated by those of Mary.  Though she pardoned many of those who supported Jane Grey against her, Dudley ultimately met his end on the executioner’s block.

Clearly, the paths to power are more dangerous than many would like to believe.  Despite the very real possibility of death, many men in English history attempted to take power for themselves, fully knowing that doing so could ultimately lead to their own deaths.  Even that knowledge, however, was not enough to keep them from attempting to take power for themselves.  As the above examples show, however, they paid for their audacity and scheming with their lives.

Sources

Alison Weir, The Children of Henry VIII.

Accuracy vs. Authenticity in Historical Film and Television

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authenticity in film, epic film, epic television, historical accuracy, historical authenticity, historical epic, historical film, historical television, rome, spartacus, television drama, television on history

Upon recently watching the Starz original series “Spartacus:  Blood and Sand,” it occurred to me that, while the series may take some liberties with historical fact, it does seem to capture at least a measure of the ethos of ancient Rome, i.e. blood-soaked violence and rampant, indulgent sexuality.  This raises the question, is it more important (or desirable) for a television series or film to seek to attain historical accuracy (defined as adhering to the facts that we have) or authenticity (the way in which those living in the period might have viewed their world)?  In essence, I would argue that the best series combine the best of both, to provide us with an emotionally resonant and at least somewhat enriching vision of the past.

To this end, two series “Rome” and “Spartacus:  Blood and Sand,” seem invested in achieving this balance.  Although both take some notable liberties with the historical record that we know (or think we know, based on the very small number of sources that have survived from the classical world), they also seek to show us what life was like for those who lived in that period.  In essence, the wealthy enjoyed a life of leisure (although there was always the danger of assassination or death in battle), while the poor laboured their lives away in squalour.  Although some people might balk at the increased level of sex and violence, and the very graphic way in which that is depicted, it is important to remember that the ancients were not always as prudish as we would like to imagine, rooted as we are in our own Puritanical-inflected cultural belief system.

Of course, this is not to say that these series do not have tremendous and very vexing ideological problems.  As I have argued elsewhere, these films and television series remain invested in a particular vision of the past, one that is both hetero-centric and male-centric.  However, where many of these television films differ is in their attention to the points of view and subjectivities of women and the queer, though these may require some digging to notice.  Furthermore, many of the epic films and television series of recent years are also notorious for their whitening of their characters, but this has begun to slowly change as we gain a greater awareness of the racial complexities of ancient societies.

In my personal opinion, authenticity is more important and significant than accuracy.  Postmodernist that I am, I remain skeptical about the possibility of attaining any measure of accuracy, considering the fact that the sources we have are so limited and, in any case, they only offer us a limited view of the ancient world (since the authors we have are almost exclusively male and upper-class).  Therefore, when these newer television series provide us with characters from the lower classes and other oppressed groups, they allow us a glimpse into a world, and a worldview, that has vanished.  While we can enjoy them, we must always remain aware of our own political, social, and cultural position, for only in doing so can we avoid falling into the ideological traps these kinds of television shows set for us.

Museum Pieces: To Give Back, or Not?

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imperialism, museum appropriation, museums, objects in museums, zahi hawass

I am about to write what will probably prove to be the most controversial blog post I have ever composed, due in large part to the fact that it goes against much of what I otherwise believe in.  While I do not in any way condone imperialism, I would like to go on record as saying that, for the most part, I do not think that museums around the world should be forced to return their objects to the country of origin, and here’s why.

In the first place, although these objects were often taken by colonial powers who had immense wealth and power (which they wielded with tyrannical force over many in the world), the objects in question have actually been quite well-taken-care of, when they would otherwise have faded into obscurity or ruin had they been left in their own countries.  This is not to say that those countries are in any way less than the countries where the pieces are now kept.  However, you cannot deny that pieces that now reside in museums would, without a doubt, have been destroyed had they been left where they were.

Just as importantly, however, we must also remember that the museums where such pieces now reside, such as the British Museum, are often more attainable to a wider number of people than would otherwise be possible.  By keeping them in these countries, museums allow people from an enormous number of backgrounds to view these objects and, just as importantly, to gain an understanding and appreciation of the cultures that produced them.

Finally, it is important to realize that, whether we like it or not, the countries of origin for many of the world’s antiquities are still in very unsettled parts of the world.  As the recent tumult in Egypt and other countries make unfortunately clear, some of the first casualties are antiquities and the museums in which they are housed, which are all too frequently burnt or destroyed during a revolution or other civil unrest.  Who knows how much has been lost as a result of the recent events of the Arab Spring and other movements, items and pieces of history that can never be recovered.  Until such time as peace and civil order are restored, I think it would be foolhardy to attempt a return of some of the world’s most ancient items.

I know that most people I know would disagree with me on this subject, but I firmly believe that, at this point at least, it would be foolhardy to return such items as the Rosetta Stone to countries such as Egypt.  The claim that these are uniquely Egyptian (which has been the central argument of such notable figures as Zahi Hawass), merely serves to flatten out the differences between the modern and the ancient.  Furthermore, we need to move beyond the “you stole it, it’s really ours, no we won’t give it back” mentality and move into a broader, more inclusive form of learning and communal space.  Only when we stop thinking about museum objects in terms of contemporary politics and think in broader intellectual concerns will we be able to make full use of them and their precious connection to the past.

The Importance of Responsible Public Scholarship

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academic sphere, historiography, history, history discipline, public scholarship, responsible scholarship, scholarly space

In a recent class discussion, the topic of responsible scholarship emerged.  Although I won’t mention the article that brought up the discussion, I will say that the the article in question used historical events to make the claim about a deep-seated impulse in the American consciousness.  While this might seem like a perfectly legitimate thing to argue, the author in question used the slightest and slimmest pieces of evidence to make broad-sweeping claims about history and in doing so violated some very key and essential rules in the profession of the historian.

Now, a colleague and I argued strenuously about this issue, and I firmly and adamantly defended the view that, if someone is going to attempt to discuss an issue that has significance for a broad audience, they should still hold themselves accountable to the standards of the academic, i.e. careful attention to detail, ensuring that their claims are actually legitimate, and staying away from broad, sweeping claims that most of us would be irritated to see in an undergraduate paper.  This is not to argue, however, that only scholars and academics should write those kinds of pieces, far from it.  Indeed, historians like Alison Weir and David McCullough have shown us that even those who are not specifically trained (i.e., do not have Ph.D.s) in history can nevertheless produce fine, detailed pieces of historical scholarship that can usually stand up to intense scrutiny.  Others, however, fail to do precisely this, and they pose a very real danger in that they become popular and bestselling, despite the fact that they do not undertake responsible and detailed research.

Why should we care, you ask?  Well, simply put, we should care because this can often lead to simplified ways of looking at the world, and it is precisely the process of simplification that has led to some of the most vexing problems in our contemporary problems.  Even people who write for a popular audience should remain cognizant of the fact that we live in a very complex, complicated world, that the world has always been so, and that to try to simplify it in an attempt to make a glitzy and popular argument ultimately ends up causing more damage.  Even those who have the noblest of motives can sometimes, perhaps inadvertently, do more harm than good in that they persuade a wide audience that simple solutions can be found to even the thorniest of problems.

As a budding scholar and historical novelist, I hold myself up to the highest standards, but I realize how tremendously difficult it is to stay away from the easy solutions in favour of those that are easier, simpler and, let’s face it, easier to write.  Furthermore, while I am not arguing for a “scholarly space” that is off-limits to those who do not have training in an academic discipline, I still believe, and will always defend, that those who seek to enter into a discussion of this type should still hold themselves accountable and should try, with their utmost effort, to make sure that their work stands up to scrutiny.  Only that, I argue, is responsible scholarship.

A Review of Margaret George’s “Elizabeth I”

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elizabeth i, historical fiction, historical novel, historical novelist, margaret george, queen elizabeth

When you mention the name Margaret George, the first thing that should spring into mind is brilliantly written and meticulously researched historical biographies about some of the most controversial historical figures.  From Cleopatra to Henry VIII, George has shown us again and again that she has the ability to bring the past to life in new and exciting ways, and her most recent novel Elizabeth I, is another excellent addition to her already superb resume.

The novel, which weighs in at over 600 pages, follows Elizabeth’s life from the invasion of the Spanish Armada until her death.  However, it also utilizes the voice of Lettice Knollys, her maternal cousin and lifelong rival, as a counterpoint to Elizabeth’s narrative voice, giving us a nuanced portrait of one of the most famous and powerful women to have ever wielded royal authority.

Throughout the novel, we get a very up-close and personal view of the aging queen and her struggles to maintain her royal dignity in the face of both her advancing age and the attempts of some of her courtiers, including and especially the volatile and extremely vain Robert Devereaux, Earl of Essex (who also happens to be the son of her rival Lettice).  Through it all, however, we come to realize that Elizabeth was a supremely talented woman, one who was able to balance the needs of the throne with the needs of the heart, but through it all placed the welfare of the state above her own desires and emotions.

Similarly, we get a very close and nuanced portrait of Lettice, who usually gets short-shrift in the face of her cousin’s larger-than-life persona.  We get to see Robert’s rebellion through her own eyes, and we come to know her almost as intimately as we get to know the queen.  Indeed, the novel’s final chapter is from her perspective, and we get to see and understand the ways in which Elizabeth began to be viewed in the years following her death.

Throughout the novel, George treats us to a fully-detailed portrait not only of Elizabeth, but also of the world in which she lived.  We get to see all of the famous figures of the period, from the dashing Francis Drake to the politically subtle and crafty Cecils, in all of their human and flawed glory.  We get to see what they saw, eat what they ate, and that is truly the mark of a successful historical novelist.  If you can feel as if you are really there in the world in which the story takes place, then the novelist has truly succeeded.

So, if you are looking for a great novel to curl up with in these winter nights, then look no further than this fine tome from one of our era’s most successful and talented historical novelists.  I can promise you that you will enjoy it and that you will not be disappointed.