Quo Vadis by Henryk Sienkewicz (translated by W.S. Kuniczak)

Life is too short for this Christian clap trap

(Photo by hoyasmeg)

Quo Vadis is a love story set in the ancient Rome of Nero’s time. Young patrician Marcus Vinicius falls for a girl named Ligia. Lust drives Vinicius to use his power and influence to have Ligia removed from a happy home and taken to him against her will. She runs away to live with fellow members of a new underground religion: Christianity. The narrative follows the efforts of Marcus to get Ligia back and in the process, becoming exposed and converted to the new faith.

The novel is terrible for many reasons. Historical inaccuracies and anachronisms abound, it is repetitive, unrealistic and the characters are one-dimensional. Above all Quo Vadis’ evangelism always gets in the way of the story.

With historical fiction, it can be pedantic to point out factual errors if there are only one or two over the course of a few hundred pages. In Quo Vadis however, they are so obvious they constantly yank the reader out of any suspension of disbelief. In the first few pages alone, Vinicius refers to an event that happened during the time when Drusus was emperor. The other character, Petronius, a noteworthy senator, listens attentively while neglecting to point out that there never was a Roman emperor by that name. Other mistakes occur every three or four pages or so, notably with the death of the most prominent Roman never to become emperor, Germanicus, being shifted all the way from Antioch in Syria to the imperial palace in Rome. The appendix states that Sienkiewicz went to great trouble to research his work by travelling to Rome itself. I would have thought that opening a few history books would have done him as much good.

Another factor which breaks the spell of being in ancient Rome is the anachronisms which litter the text. The most obvious is that it is doubtful that the Christians of this time would have used the cross as a symbol of their faith. Then we come to the speech of the characters, which to be fair is the fault of the translator rather than the author. Nevertheless when Vinicius asks Petronius to “check into” something it strikes an odd chord indeed.

Six-hundred pages of story are often the same scenes repeated again and again. The character Chilon visits Vinicius and Petronius on at least three occasions which could have been condensed into one. The characters’ constant introspections become boring too, with the same old thoughts going around and around. This is particularly true as Vinicius wrestles with his opinions of Christianity. Much of the time Sienkiewicz has his characters mapping out each probable course of action before actually doing anything, thus eliminating any tension or compulsion to read on.

Next we come to how unrealistic the story is. We are expected to believe that someone could not leave the city of Rome after dark. Sienkiewicz tells us that 10,000 people lived in Nero’s palace! Also, I realise that Vinicius and Petronius are supposed to be extremely wealthy men but I’m not sure even they could have afforded scores of slaves to go out day after day and scour the streets for a single young girl. When his slaves fail in conveying Ligia to him from the imperial palace, Vinicius kills one of them whom we are told helped to raise him, and has all the rest sold to work in quarries. Slaves were a valuable resource in this era and simply would not have been treated in this way.

The way that Vinicius treats his slaves is convenient for Sienkiewicz though. It slips neatly into the modern idea of the decadent and evil Roman, especially when this is juxtaposed to the pious and moral Christians. For a more blatant contrast of good and evil you’d have to look to the work of the brothers Grimm. All of the characters are one dimensional which, added to the repetition of scenes, just becomes boring.

Finally we come to the undisguised proselytising of the text. From chapter two onwards, when Pomponia states that she believes “in the one true God who is omnipotent and just,” the story descends into a simplistic sermon where Rome is corrupt and Christianity is innocent and good. This contrast is both unrealistic and insulting to the intelligence. Sienkiewicz projects the values of nineteenth century Christianity backwards almost two thousand years, with no thought or consideration that it would have been very different a few decades after the death of Christ.

Are there any good points to the novel? Well, not really. As someone who enjoys the period very much I tried to take pleasure in the story for what it was (the picture of a ridiculous singing and acting Nero was certainly entertaining). Unfortunately the faults in the writing often had me invoking the name of Christ, though not in the way Sienkiewicz intended.

If you must force yourself through this book, then do yourself a favour and afterwards read Gore Vidal’s Julian as an antidote.

Burr by Gore Vidal

An engrossing, entertaining and informative read

The best historical novels are often history lessons in disguise; in Burr we learn much about America as a new nation, desperate to be on a par with the European powers, and grabbing any opportunity for Empire. Vidal paints giants such as Washington and Jefferson with an irreverence which does much to bring them, and this era to life.

Almost every character is someone who really existed, and here Vidal shows his amazing talent for detail. Vidal’s narrator, Charlie Shuyler, is fictional, but even he is based on a figure of the day. Set in the 1830s in New York, Shuyler is interviewing and compiling the biography of Colonel Aaron Burr. Though in his late seventies, Burr seems to have the youth and energy of someone half his age. Burr’s life is fascinating; he fought in the American Revolution, became vice-president and also was embroiled in scandal after killing a political rival in a duel. Like a less comical version of MacDonald Fraser’s Flashman, he pretty much saw everything and is the vehicle for the story of the birth and initial growing pains of the USA.

Burr is a complex man, but he is not alone in this. With the possible exception of Andrew Jackson, not one of Vidal’s creations comes across as stereotypical. Key to this is that we see many of them change over time. Of note too is that while the book contains characters that arguably do villainous things, there are no clear villains or heroes.

Betrayal and honour are themes inevitably present in a story with politics at its core. The common perception of the founding fathers is of a group of men who strove to build a new and better world. Vidal makes it clear that things were no different then from today, as personal ambition and opportunism twisted any high ideals that may have been present in the politicians of the time.

Characters are the driving force in the book. While some may criticise him for a lack of plot, this is to miss a key feature of Vidal’s work. With events such as the revolutionary war and personalities as singular as James Wilkinson, there is little need to create artificial page turning scenarios. Vidal choodes to write about  people with such amazing lives, that their biographies are plot enough in themselves.

Vidal’s Burr is an eloquent man, able to recreate the speech of his long dead rivals and colleagues and this does much to enrich his prose who. Vidal takes great pleasure in words and through Burr he shares his interest and enthusiasm for language with the reader, as in this wonderful comment on Jefferson’s writing for example:

The dash is the sign of poor style. Jefferson used to hurl them like javelins across the page.

The America of this period is also vivid because of the great attention to detail. Vidal references personalities of the day such as Jeremy Bentham and has lots of others make cameo appearances. New inventions and ideas, like the swivel chair and the pseudo science of phrenology, pepper the story and help to immerse the reader in a world much removed from, but related to our own.

While I don’t think that Burr is Vidal’s finest work (try Julian or Creation first), it is still an amazing read. Best of all is that this is part of his Narratives of a Golden Age series. I can’t wait to get a hold of the next book Lincoln and be whisked away by Vidal again.

Ten Great Historical Novels

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Historical fiction is probably my favourite genre. I love being able to immerse myself in another time and place, and if the author is able to tie in real historical figures then this enriches the experience. Sometimes I’ve found historical fiction to be a wonderful springboard into non-fictional history books and biographies (not long ago I had a distinct Napoleonic phase).

I make no claim that these ten novels in any way constitute a top ten, they are simply wonderful books.

Black Ajax by George MacDonald Fraser

Set in Regency England, this is the story of Tom Molineaux, an ex-plantation slave and the Black Ajax of the title. Molineaux is a larger than life figure with prodigious talents for eating, drinking and women. It’s his talent for boxing that puts him in demand however, as he travels across the Atlantic to eventually fight for the title of Champion of England.

Based on a real man, this is a wonderfully atmospheric story through the eyes of different narrators as we see Molineaux progress from a nobody, to top prize fighter, and finally washed-up slugger.

A Dead Man in Deptford by Anthony Burgess

The title of this novel refers to the playwright and contemporary of Shakespeare, Christopher Marlowe, who died in a pub brawl in 1593 at the age of twenty-nine. A number of real figures turn up, such as Shakespeare himself in this story of espionage, homosexuality, poetry and murder.

The most fantastic thing about this book is the language, and as you might expect from the author of A Clockwork Orange, it takes a little getting used to.  Once you’re acquainted with the Elizabethan turn of phrase however, you find that it has really helped to whisk you back some four-hundred odd years.

The Discovery of Slowness by Sten Nadolny

The Discovery of Slowness is another novel which uses language to create a world different from the one you are used to; not so much in terms of historical period but in order to get you inside the head of the central character. A quirk of translation from the original German or not, I don’t know, but I do know that the predominance of simple sentences really creates the impression of a man out of step with the rest of society.

Nadolny describes John Franklin as an unusual character, who thinks and acts extremely slowly. At first destined to be a misfit, he manages to turn what seems to be a disability into a distinct advantage. His meticulous and deliberate nature impresses all around him and helps him to rise in his career as a Royal Navy officer and Arctic explorer. This is the story of a fascinating man with a remarkable career that took him to the ends of the earth.

The First Man in Rome by Colleen McCullough

If you like to be absorbed by a whole series of novels then this is the one for you. McCullough’s gargantuan task has been to fictionalise no less than the whole of the fall of the Roman Republic, from about 120BC to the final cataclysmic contest between Octavian (the future emperor Augustus) and Mark Anthony.

Here McCullough begins a pattern, of creating wonderfully believable and compelling characters out of figures who have been dead for more than two-thousand years. In the early novels, Sulla is a truly evil delight, but is only one in a cast of characters with whom we become intimately involved.

Based on meticulous research, there is the added bonus of a history lesson in events fundamental to the political and cultural landscape of the western world.

Imperium by Robert Harris

Another great novel based in the late Roman Republic is this story about the early life of Cicero, one of the foremost statesmen of the time. Here we get a different feel for the era from McCullough as the story is told from the viewpoint of Cicero’s faithful and indispensable slave Tiro. There are delicious portraits of famous figures, such as Caesar, who is  (I think accurately) portrayed as a scheming, unscrupulous opportunist. It’s nice to see that Harris has written a sequel Lustrum which will be out soon.

Creation by Gore Vidal

Where Gore Vidal and historical fiction are concerned then you’re spoilt for choice. For me, a true genius of the genre; period atmosphere, spot on characterisations, innovative narrative style, shifts in viewpoint – the man has it all. Whichever novel you pick up by this treasure of a writer you really can’t go wrong, but Creation is a fantastic place to start. Cyrus Spitama is a Persian ambassador to Athens in the fifth century BC who is dictating his life story to his nephew. This is a man who has met Socrates, Buddha and Confucius during his many and varied travels. A tall tale indeed, but one very well told, and on a scale rarely seen. Brilliant.

Baudolino by Umberto Eco

Another writer who has dipped his toe a few times into the historical fiction pond, is the Italian master Umberto Eco. Baudolino is set in the late twelfth century at the court of Frederick I Barbarossa of Germany. The wonderful thing about this novel is that it starts off in a recognisable world, but as the characters travel south to uncharted lands, veers off into the realm of fantasy. This fantasy is itself grounded in history, reflecting the bizarre tales that circulated Europe at that time about people in the rest of the world.

Captain Corelli’s Mandolin by Louis de Bernieres

Louis de Bernieres is like a good Gabriel Garcia Marquez. He excels in whimsical ordinary people set against the dramatic backdrop of history. Unlike Marquez however, there is always a narrative thrust to the story and always a reason to read on. Captain Corelli’s Mandolin contains delightful characters that will pull at your emotions. If you love this book then don’t deprive yourself of the also excellent Birds Without Wings.

Blood Meridian by Cormac McCarthy

Even if you don’t particularly enjoy historical fiction you’d be a fool to pass up the best novel by one of the world’s best writers today. Set in the mid nineteenth century on the border of the US and Mexico, and telling the tale of a gang of scalp hunters, this is McCarthy’s darkest work. McCarthy’s idiosyncratic style is something to behold, as is the unforgettable character of the Judge; the personification of cruelty and arrogance. “Whatever exists, whatever in creation exists without my knowledge, exists without my consent.” –  priceless.

War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy

The daddy of them all. Don’t let the length of the work put you off.  Almost this entire novel is a remarkable work, and the part that you should skip comes neatly at the end, after all the storytelling is finished. Love, tragedy, treachery, social comment and a cast of thousands – it’s all here. Marvel at this groundbreaking and all encompassing masterpiece.

How to Write and Sell Historical Fiction by Persia Woolley

The title of Persia Woolley’s book is quite misleading. There is little in the way of advice on how to actually write, nor is there very much at all about how to sell your work. She does give information on how to deal with the publishing world, but this is very meager indeed. Also, given the rapid changing nature of the book industry, her advice is probably of diminishing usefulness.

The book is divided into three parts. Part one deals with research, Part two: writing and Part three: the business of publishing your work. Throughout this slim volume Woolley states the obvious again and again. Chapter four is a prime example with such redundant sections as “Taking Notes”.

The book is outdated to the point of irritation such as the section on computer versus paper. Not only this, but it is also terribly US-centred, and as Woolley’s advice on how to write is so self evident, if you don’t come from the States there is probably extremely little in the way of practical business knowledge.

Woolley relies on examples to illustrate what theory she does have of writing, rather than actually getting to grips with such issues as characterisation or tension. This is fine so far as it goes, but it isn’t very perceptive, and there are only so many references to the genius of Gone with the Wind that one really needs.

This is a vague and sloppily written book. One or two little tips stand out, but there isn’t really much insight into any stage of the writing or publishing process. I was attracted by the historical fiction tag as that is what I am working on. Don’t be. Plump for a book that deals with writing issues in detail, even if it is not specifically intended to be a guide to this kind of writing. My recommendation would be Techniques of the Selling Writer by Dwight V. Swain.

An impressive feat of fiction

Birds Without Wings by Louis de Bernieres

Louis de Bernieres is a courageous writer. So much is evident when reading this sprawling, grand narrative of a time and place largely forgotten to us in the twenty-first century. Telling the story of a small town in Turkey before, during and after the first world war, the book spans some 800 pages. At times exasperating, at others compelling, de Bernieres’s narrative of world events intruding upon a small community is like the story of someone growing old and losing their innocence, step by step along the way.

There are similarities to de Bernieres’s most famous work Captain Corelli’s Mandolin but this book is a far more ambitious affair. We are treated to an amazing array of characters and the narrative employs a number of tricks to help distinguish them from each other. De Bernieres chooses the simplicity of the first person narrative to tell the story of a number of key characters, giving us a very personal view of the world. Coupled with this is a more standard third-person narrative that tells the majority of the story. It is a testament to de Bernieres’s skill that we are able to flit about and change viewpoints without confusion.

A third style is used for Mustapha Kemal Ataturk; the man responsible for the modern Turkish state. These chapters are all written in present tense and so have the immediacy of a news report. For the most part Mustapha Kemal’s chronicle is a nice contrast to the rest of the tale but sometimes it does feel a little overused. In the middle of the novel there is a series of chapters all written in this way. The effect is that it feels very much like a list of events rather than a story. There is so much information that de Bernieres needs to get across though, and it is difficult to think how else he could have done it.

De Bernieres’s ambitions also mean that his writing can be irksome in other ways. He revels in his use of unusual words (take ‘mommoxity’ for example) but there are so many that it smacks of someone showing off, drawing too much attention away from the story and onto the cleverness of the writer. This problem is compounded by the frequent ethnic words that pepper the text. The sheer amount of them means that far from creating exotic colour they merely get in the way. This is a shame as de Bernieres is obviously a master with the English language. At other points his writing is a pure delight; very few authors are able to evoke the beauty and ugliness of the world around us as effectively.

De Bernieres writing is remarkable also for its philosophical nature. Take for example his thoughts on beauty as expressed by one of the main characters Drosoula:

“When you looked at Philothei, you were reminded of a terrible truth, which is that everything decays away and is lost. Beauty is precious, you see, and the more beautiful something is the more precious it is; and the more precious something is, the more it hurts us that it will fade away: and the more we are hurt by beauty, the more we love the world; and the more we love it, the more we are saddened that it is like the finely powdered salt that runs away through the fingers, or is washed away by the rain.”

This example from early in the book is just the first of many times that I had to stop and reflect for a while.

Characterisation is of course where de Bernieres is at his strongest. He is an expert craftsman and his accomplishment is impressive when one takes into account the different sides he has created for so many different people. Even when the characters are stereotypical they are still wonderful. Fekrit, the abusive foul-mouthed soldier from Pera is largely one-dimensional but also a joy to read about.

This is an historical novel, and while I certainly learned a lot I was most impressed by its great relevance to the world today. Most obviously this is in its portrayal of the relationship between Christianity and Islam, but also in the way ordinary people get caught up in events that are beyond their control and the tragic consequences that ensue.

At times this read can be a bit of a trudge. While it is a central character in itself, the town of Eskibahce is described in great detail far too many times. Moreover, the end of the book tends to go on and on explaining the same events from different viewpoints while not really revealing anything new. In this way it reminded me of War and Peace; also a fantastic novel that is at least two hundred words too long.

Above all there is much about this immense novel that could be better, but given the breadth of material it covers, one can only stand back in awe of de Bernieres’s achievement.