What do you see in your mind’s eye when somebody says ‘Roman’? asks Alison Morton.
A Roman soldier in segmented armour, a senator in a purple striped toga, a Roman matron in stola and palla? Or perhaps Vorenus, Pullo and Atia of the Julii from HBO’s Rome or Russell Crowe aka Maximus Decimus Meridius in Gladiator. Or maybe the rather bizarre series Britannia with David Morrissey strutting his stuff as Aulus Plautius. More recently, we’ve seen modern curiosity lead to Domina, the interesting interpretation of the life of Livia Drusilla, wife of the first Roman emperor Augustus.
To misquote Maximus, we have been entertained. But is this all Ancient Rome signifies for us and for the wider public? The Monty Python Life of Brian video widely available on social media says it all succinctly about roads, law and sanitation, so repeating it here would be superfluous. But for the first part of its history, Rome was certainly not the grand empire stretching across most of the known world.
Tradition has it that Rome was founded on 21 April 753 BCE and ab urbe condita (AUC) is used to count years since that glorious date. This year, for instance. would be 2777 AUC. In reality, AUC was more commonly used during the Renaissance; the dominant method of identifying years in much of the Roman period was to name them from the two consuls who held office that year. But having to remember who the consuls were in which year must have been not only staggeringly inefficient but perhaps gave the Romans a different concept of time.
The Roman Republic was established in AUC 245, or 509 BCE, after the last king, Tarquinius Superbus, was thrown out. The Republic endured until the death of G. Julius Caesar in 44 BCE, the civil wars and the emergence of Augustus in 27 BC as chief citizen, de facto emperor. Through various iterations, many dynasties, more civil wars, usurpations, plagues, crises and changing patterns and divisions of power, the empire existed until it started going seriously downhill at the end of the fourth century. By 476 CE, it died a whimpering death in the West in the face of barbarian conquest. In the East, Roman power evolved along a different path into what we call the Byzantine Empire until the fall of Constantinople in 1453.
However, looking at 1,229 years in the West, we see Rome going from a squabbling village to master of the known world. During that time, being Roman meant distinctly different things. I have to scratch my head to think of many fictional representations of the earliest days of Rome, whether it’s Aeneas arriving from Troy or Romulus and Remus knocking seven bells out of each other over how many birds they saw in the sky. Ursula Le Guin’s Lavinia gives the Aeneid’s silent princess of Latium, whom Aeneas marries, a voice and Elisabeth Storrs’ Tales of Ancient Rome take us back to 406 BCE and the bitter fight with the Etruscans, while Steven Saylor’s Roma covers the first thousand years of Rome’s history. Novels abound about Hannibal, Scipio and the Punic Wars, but few about Brennus the Gaul who sacked Rome in 390 BCE.
For the later Republic and classical Empire, there are hundreds of novels featuring historical and imaginary characters by far too many authors to name and often featuring military conflicts relating to transfer of power, conquest and rebellion. A classic such as Robert Graves’ stories of the Julio-Claudian clan became I, Claudius, an influential and long-lasting television series with a starry cast that still attracts enthusiastic audiences today. For many viewers, this is the definitive series about Ancient Rome, despite much arguing over its unpretentious production values. Many dynastic dramas, such as The Game of Thrones, The Sopranos and even Dynasty, carry more than a whiff of the intrigues of I, Claudius.
Lindsey Davis’ Roman detectives Falco and Flavia Albia set in the Flavian dynasty period have brought many readers to other aspects of Rome, especially non-military, and often with a comic tone that doesn’t conceal serious themes and harsh reality. Included in this period are series by my fellow conference panellists Ruth Downie with her doctor turned reluctant sleuth Gaius Petreius Ruso set around 120 CE, and Kate Quinn’s stormingly successful Empress of Rome series spanning the 1st and 2nd centuries CE.
The 3rd and 4th centuries are not so well known, although Gore Vidal’s Julian about a complex descendant of Constantine who attempted to turn back the tide of Christianity was a revelation to me. More recently, Gordon Doherty’s series featuring Pavo from a young boy to a broken man in the later 4th century brings alive the Roman Empire’s loss of confidence in itself, the carpetbagging of power players and the monumental struggles against barbarian enemies on all sides.
Classic films, such as The Fall of the Roman Empire, Cleopatra, Ben Hur and Quo Vadis, were exciting, splendid, exuberant and often inaccurate. They very much reflect the time when they were made. No streets are dirty, everybody has scrupulously clean clothes, nobody is ill and they all have perfect hair and make-up. But we are entertained.
Today’s novels and screen interpretations are more realistic. Well, perhaps authentic would be a better word. Our sources are often scanty and written by people with privileged lifestyles and who are almost exclusively male. Novelists do well to keep up with archaeological evidence and reinterpretation that continues to unearth dinner invitations, moans about bar bills and requests for warm socks from home. And treading that careful path between known fact and intelligent making-it-up is a challenge for any novelist who wants to bring a plausible vision of their Roman world to the reader or viewer.
As new mosaics are unearthed or a tombstone uncovered or previously illegible scrolls become readable thanks to technology, such discoveries rocket into the headlines. Social media recently saw a meme go viral when it invited women to ask their male partners how often the latter thought about the Roman Empire. The answer was surprisingly often. Of course, the women novelists of Roman fiction piled in, stating that their heads were full of Rome all day long, whatever Roman period they wrote about.
Are we still obsessed by Rome? Yes, of course we are.
Alison Morton writes award-winning thrillers featuring tough but compassionate heroines. In her ten-book Roma Nova series, SUCCESSIO, AURELIA, INSURRECTIO and JULIA PRIMA have been selected as Historical Novel Society’s Editors’ Choices. SUCCESSIO was also picked by The Bookseller as Editor’s Choice in its inaugural indie review. Double Identity from Alison’s new contemporary series was selected as one of BookBub’s Best Books for March 2021. Her latest, EXSILIUM, plunges us back to the late 4th century, to the very foundation of Roma Nova.
She blends her fascination for Ancient Rome with six years’ military service and a life of reading crime, historical and thriller fiction. On the way, she collected a BA in modern languages and an MA in history. She now lives in France.
Alison Morton is presenting a session on Roman fiction in the conference, together with Ruth Downie and Kate Quinn.
Her new novel EXSILIUM is published today.
Exile – Living death to a Roman
AD 395. In a Christian Roman Empire, the penalty for holding true to the traditional gods is execution.
Maelia Mitela, her dead husband condemned as a pagan traitor, leaving her on the brink of ruin, grieves for her son lost to the Christians and is fearful of committing to another man.
Lucius Apulius, ex-military tribune, faithful to the old gods and fixed on his memories of his wife Julia’s homeland of Noricum, will risk everything to protect his children’s future.
Galla Apulia, loyal to her father and only too aware of not being the desired son, is desperate to escape Rome after the humiliation of betrayal by her feckless husband.
For all of them, the only way to survive is exile.
The Historical Novel Society UK 2024 conference 
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