“The First Man in Rome”, by Colleen McCullough

896 pages, William Morrow & Company, ISBN-13: 978-0688093686

The First Man in Rome by Colleen McCullough is the first book in her “Masters of Rome” series and spans the years 110 to 100 BC. The series has a thesis (first introduced in 1939 by Sir Ronald Syme in his epic historical treatise “The Roman Revolution”): as Rome became more powerful within the Mediterranean world, the old ways of doing things – through the deliberation of various interests, mainly aristocratic and mercantile – became impossibly cumbersome. It became more and more difficult to govern an empire with institutions originally designed to administer a city-state. Certain powerful leaders (especially Marius, Sulla, and Caesar) tried to create a state in which they had autocratic power but also preserved the externals of the old ways. They were opposed by the conservatives (called the optimates by classical historians, though they themselves preferred the title boni or “good men”). The obtuse or simply ignorant resistance of these reactionaries, who are all (except for Cato) presented as degenerate or self-serving, made the creation of an autocracy necessary. The result was the birth of an imperial monarchy, and a radically different organization of power. Each book in the series features a detailed glossary, hand-drawn illustrations of the major characters, and notes by McCullough detailing her reasoning for portraying certain events in certain ways.

The main plot of the novel is generally concerned with the rise of Marius, his marriage to Julia, his success in replacing Metellus as general in charge of the Numidian theatre of war, his defeat of King Jugurtha of Numidia, his re-organization of the Roman Army system, his unprecedented consecutive consulships, his defeat of a massive invasion of German tribes, and the details of his relationship with his subordinate and close friend Sulla. Although Marius can be considered the protagonist, Sulla occasionally becomes the central figure of the narrative. A third storyline is focused on the figures of Marcus Livius Drusus and his sister Livia Drusa who both feature more prominently in The Grass Crown: and their own growing friendship with the Servilius Caepio family resulting in a double marriage. The novel closes with Marius's sixth consulship, in which he proves not to be as adept politically as he is militarily: and the tribune whose help he needs, Lucius Appuleius Saturninus, has an agenda of his own, leading to an armed insurrection which Marius himself has to put down. To cap it all, he also suffers a minor stroke during the summer, although he makes a full recovery. Tarred by association, his political career seems over: but after fighting many battles together, there is some reason for Marius and Sulla to hope that Rome will have peace for a few years.

McCullough’s novel is not only a thrilling narrative, but it brings to life in rich detail the characters and political intrigues at the heart of the Late Republic; indeed, I am not overstating the fact that you can learn more about – and gain a deeper appreciation of – the Late Republic from this novel than you can from many a standard Western Civilization textbook or from non-fiction books covering the period. While some of the characters and plot lines are more interesting than others, overall The First Man in Rome is quite consistent throughout. Sulla’s narrative has been the most interesting and well developed, whereas some of the more idealized characters (such as Julia) feel as though they are held at arm’s length. Much of the letter writing is used to give context and describe events more quickly but may have been the weakest in terms of humanizing the characters. The book is sprinkled with side narratives which are often the most exciting points of the story. Some of the characters that only appear for a short time are surprisingly well developed. The tone of the book does not attempt to tell you who to root for. There are not many obvious villains and many of the small tragedies throughout are more profound because the narration style does not attempt to put a gloss on anything. The work is not without its flaws, but I had a hard time putting it down. At the end of this book I was satisfied that I had a great time reading it and I knew much more about this period than I did at the beginning, and, really now, what else can you ask for from a historical novel?