Anyone familiar with Mary Beard’s quirky narration is always in for a treat. In this tome of a book she does so with passion and without technical jargon demonstrating how a slightly shabby Iron Age village rose to become the undisputed hegemony of the Mediterranean.
She has been hailed by critics as animating the grand sweep and intimate details that bring the distant past vividly to life in a way that makes your hair stand on end. Spanning nearly a thousand years of history this book reads in a highly informed, enjoyable way that examines not only how we think of ancient Rome but challenges the comfortable historical perspectives that lingered for centuries. With a nuanced attention to class, democratic struggles, and details the lives of entire groups of people omitted from the historical narrative for centuries, SPQR shapes or realigns our view of Roman history for decades to come.
Its interesting that Rome had projected its obsessions with the apparently unending cycle of civil conflict back onto its founder. But the message is clear, however far back you go, the inhabitants of Rome were immigrants. SPQR is the initials for Sanatus Populusque Romanus (The Senate and People of Rome) is an emblematic phrase referring to the government of the Roman Republic. It appears on documents made public by an inscription in stone or metal, in dedications of monuments and public works, and on some Roman currency.
Why the fascination with ancient Rome? Why does it matter? Because it’s a history of an Empire, fuelled by cruelty and excess, is something against which we still judge ourselves. Its myths and stories from Romulus and Remus to the Rape of Lucretia– still strike a chord with us- its debates about citizenship, security and the rights of the individual still influence our own debates about civil liberty today.
Mary Beard is one of the world’s foremost classicist and in her books she explores the radial growth that controlled territory from Spain to Syria, covering a thousand years while casting a fresh light on the basics of Roman culture from slavery to running water, as well as religious controversy, social mobility and exploitation in the larger context of the Empire, making hers a definitive history of ancient Rome. Reading it in conjunction with Colleen McCullough “The First Man in Rome” makes for beautiful history, tending towards the social history rather than the political and military.
Tom Holland’s or Adrian Goldsworthy’s books, like Robert Harris’ Cicero Series which explore the flavour and the political intrigue at a crucial time of Rome’s history, offer superb insights into the social mores of society at the top. After having seen an episode of Mary Beard’s documentary series “Meet the Romans”, I greatly appreciated visualising the archaeological remains of Rome. There are many personal favourites about this book, especially how it successfully combines material sources of archaeology with the written sources of history. The part about the Roman kings– the stories of Livy, a Roman historian who lived in the 1st century BC, about Romulus and Remus and the six other successive kings often dismissed by 19th century sceptics as mythical. The excavation at the Forum brought to light a pillar from the 6th century BC containing the inscription “king” in Latin, raspberries to those sceptics.
Mary Beard’s approach to history is unconventional and refreshing, with her enthusiasm for the subject, and her documentation of ordinary folk and the big men and women of ancient Rome. Her writing dances off the page, its accessible, not just in terms of content but style as well.
The author writes thematically rather than chronologically, allowing the reader to draw connections between events, that likely happened in the mythological beginnings of Rome and the end of the Roman Republic. To add to our temporal uncertainties there is no single story of Rome especially when the Roman world had expanded far outside of Italy. Rome’s history is not the same as the history of Roman Britain or Roman Africa.
Beard embarks on the colossal task of telling as much of the story of Rome and its provinces as she can fit into 544 pages. She is a vastly engaging tour guide around the best parts of Rome’s story, debunking its myths with ease. Cleopatra’s final moments receive Mary’s trademark scepticism. Suicide by snakebite is a hard feat to pull off. As is the likelihood of Hannibal cracking open the chunks of frozen alpine rocks blocking his path, a myth that is dismissed in a heartbeat. And as for Caligula’s famous debate when he ordered his soldiers to gather seashells as victory spoils, is confused with the Latin word musculi, which can mean both shells and military huts.
Her breezy tone belies serious academic weight behind her narrative. SPQR is tremendously enjoyable, a scholarly read and it makes you engage, not just read, with history.
