BMCR 2009.07.49: Charles on Barrett, Lives of the Caesars

Anthony A. Barrett (ed.), Lives of the Caesars.  Malden, MA/Oxford:
Blackwell Pub., 2008.  Pp. xvii, 322.  ISBN 9781405127554.  $35.00
(pb).

Reviewed by Michael B. Charles, Southern Cross University
([email protected])
Word count:  3046 words
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To set the record straight, I was expecting to review a new critical
edition or translation of Suetonius's De Vita Caesarum. To my surprise,
I found an edited volume of twelve concise biographies, largely written
by some of the most respected and influential names in the field, on
most of the major Roman emperors from Augustus through to Justinian --
if you count the latter as a Roman emperor (which is, of course, how he
thought of himself). So, the title is somewhat misleading (though
potentially more so for the classicist or ancient historian than that
most enigmatic and ill-defined of audiences, the 'general' or
'non-specialist' reader). Perhaps Lives of the Emperors, especially in
view of the Byzantine ruler Justinian's inclusion in the volume, might
have been more appropriate.

Barrett's edited volume is the usual Blackwell paperback fare. It is
light, easy to handle, not too expensive, with an attractive typeface.
For a book of somewhat indeterminate audience, there are relatively few
pictures, save for a small black and white numismatic representations
of the subject emperor at the beginning of each chapter, and a handful
of black and white photographs of relevant sculptural representations,
or other items of interest, in the text. A timeline, with 'featured'
emperors helpfully in bold typeface, is found at the volume's
beginning, together with important family trees and some line maps.
References are in-text and keyed (in the case of modern works) to a not
particularly compendious "Further Reading" section at the end of each
chapter. I am unsure of the rationale here, but I would have thought
that these selections of modern scholarship could have been more
authoritative, especially for those new to the subject matter. A few
endnotes accompany each of the chapters. The volume includes a short
glossary towards the end of the book, in keeping with the work's
popular audience, while a fourteen-page index rounds out proceedings.

At this point, it will be worthwhile to run a rule over the volume's
contents, which are divided into twelve essays preceded by an
introduction by the editor. Chapter 1 (Werner Eck, translated by Ruth
Tubbesing) deals with Augustus, Chapter 2 (Greg Rowe) with Tiberius,
Chapter 3 (Anthony A. Barrett) with Caligula, Chapter 4 (Donna W.
Hurley) with Claudius, Chapter 5 (Miriam T. Griffin) with Nero, Chapter
6 (Barbara Levick) with Vespasian, Chapter 7 (Hadrian) with Mary T.
Boatwright, Chapter 8 (Anthony R. Birley) with Marcus Aurelius, Chapter
9 (David Potter) with Septimius Severus, Chapter 10 (Simon Corcoran)
with Diocletian, Chapter 11 (Noel Lenski) with Constantine, and Chapter
12 (James Allan Evans) with Justinian. There is no concluding or
synthesizing chapter, which I feel constitutes something of an
oversight given the complexity of the themes introduced in the volume
(for example, the concept of dynastic succession appears regularly,
while reconstructing the actions of a 'bad' emperor emerge as
particularly problematic if the sources are mainly hostile). It will be
noted that some of the chapters deal not only with the life and reign
of their subject, but also with their immediate successor(s).

Some reasonably important emperors missed out all together. A chapter
on Clodius Albinus might not have proved enlightening, but the omission
of a life of Trajan is puzzling. The optimus princeps, the conqueror of
Dacia and Parthia, the emperor whose military exploits encapsulated the
soldier-emperor ideal (for better or for worse), the statesman who
beautified the Empire's capital, the reformer who set the Empire on a
path of relative stability fails via his administrative and relatively
progressive reforms (at least briefly acknowledged on p. 155) fails to
warrant his own chapter. Furthermore, why does the volume end with
Justinian, as if he were the capstone of the entire story of the
Caesars? Barrett (p. 2) justifies concluding with Justinian since his
reign represents a "link between the Roman empire and the Byzantine
empire that followed, or ... into which it metamorphosed". Yet I remain
unsure whether Justinian is the best 'link' between the two eras.
Moreover, does anyone ever call Justinian a Caesar? To my way of
thinking, Justinian belongs firmly in the Byzantine era. Perhaps
Theodosius I, the last ruler of East and West after crushing Eugenius's
ephemeral usurpation in 394, might have been a more appropriate link.

A review usually calls for some quibbling on the content of the
contents. But, with a book of this broad nature, to devote too much
space to such concerns seems a trifle arbitrary and probably
unwarranted. What follows is a (hopefully) concise of what is new
and/or interesting in the various chapters, with a few technical
remarks as appropriate.

Chapter 1 (Augustus/Eck) represents a concise overview of Octavian's
rise and his major achievements as emperor. There is little new here,
though it is worthwhile to single out the importance that, according to
Eck, Augustus placed on ensuring the continuity of the imperial
bloodline, a theme which crops up in several chapters (p. 33). Some
up-to-date archaeological evidence is pleasingly adduced in the context
of the Varus disaster of AD 9 (p. 29). I would have liked to see more
on the annona, which warrants only a line on p. 31 -- odd given that
imperial oversight of the grain supply was one of the most long-lasting
initiatives of Augustus's reign.[[1]] Julia is interestingly described
as being guilty of "unconventional life choices" (p. 35), though
details are given by Rowe in the following chapter (p. 44). The use of
"legionnaires" for "legionary" is a little grating, though more the
fault of the translator than Eck (p. 14).

Chapter 2 (Tiberius/Rowe) makes much more use of ancient sources,
though emphasis on Velleius over Tacitus with respect to Tiberius's
accession is unusual (p. 48). With regard to the sources, Rowe makes
the point that Tiberius may indeed have hesitated to accept the
principate, but later writers (e.g., Tacitus and Suetonius) knew that
he would rule for twenty-three years, and thus saw hypocrisy in
Tiberius's initial reluctance (pp. 38-39). The chapter is a
rehabilitation of sorts: Tiberius was not responsible for Agrippa
Postumus's death (p. 48), while Drusus was "perhaps murdered through
Sejanus's agency" (p. 56). Rowe suggests that Sejanus probably hoped to
be a regent to a child emperor, rather than an emperor in his own right
(p. 57). Furthermore, there is an interesting emphasis on Tiberius
philhellenism, which is not usually discussed in any great detail (p.
55).[[2]]

Chapter 3 (Caligula/Barrett) represents one of the more enjoyable
chapters. Barrett claims that Tiberius "probably" intended, after his
death, to let the senate choose between Gaius or Tiberius Gemellus (p.
60), although he argues that Tiberius was preparing Caligula for public
duty on Capri (p. 62). Barrett sees Caligula as the first emperor to
come to power on the basis of bribing the Praetorian Guard. Despite
Caligula's ephemeral reign, Barrett looks at the constitutional
developments of the Principate and makes the important claim that he
was the first emperor to be given "total imperial powers" at the outset
(p. 65), and thus was the first emperor "in the proper sense of the
word" (p. 66). Of real interest is the assertion that Claudius may have
had something to do with Caligula's assassination, and that "Claudius
was certainly looked upon as a usurper" (p. 82). In all, the chapter is
largely a rehabilitation of the eccentric rather than truly mad
Caligula -- and is quite a convincing rehabilitation too.

Chapter 4 (Claudius/Hurley) represents a marked contrast, especially
regarding Claudius's accession. Although Hurley acknowledges Barrett's
position, she sees Claudius as "fearful" at the time of the
assassination (p. 84), and "living in fear" under Caligula (p. 89) --
perhaps all the more reason to want to be rid of Caligula? Still,
Hurley points out that the Praetorians who killed Caligula were
executed (p. 90). Is this possible if Claudius was a party to the
conspiracy, or do we need to re-examine Claudius's character? (a more
Machiavellian Claudius does have a certain appeal.) Hurley plays it
straight with the sources, perhaps overly so. Silly anecdotes on the
part of the sources are not really put into their vituperative context,
which jars with Hurley's overall attempt to show that Claudius was not
the passive fool described in the sources, but an "unseemly figure" (on
account of his alleged cerebral palsy) that was "comparatively
harmless" (p. 106) and, what is more, diligent with regard to his
imperial office. On the centralization often attributed to Claudius,
Hurley suggests that this was not necessarily a policy of Claudius, but
a logical "accretion" of powers and prerogatives to the principate (p.
100). This is fair enough.

Chapter 5 (Nero/Griffin) characterizes Nero, not as a depraved monster,
but as "the greatest showman of them all" (p. 109) -- a kind of P.T.
Barnum of the ancient world. Griffin deals with Nero in a slightly
curious way: there is praise for his eastern policy (p. 108), and his
abolition of the more arbitrary aspects of Claudius's reign (p. 115),
but there is also a great deal of emphasis on Nero's 'art'. Griffin
credits the notion of Nero practising hard at his singing, putting
weights on his chest to build vocal strength, and using enemas and
strict diets (p. 119).[[3]] Furthermore, the rebel Vindex especially
vexed Nero by calling him a bad lyre-player (p. 126).[[4]] These tales,
it could be argued, cast Nero as a comic buffoon, a bad actor who has
cast himself in his own bad play, and are perhaps not meant to be taken
quite so seriously.[[5]] There is also the slightly odd statement that
"Had he only been allowed to be professional musician rather than an
emperor, how much better it would have been for Rome" (p. 129). In all,
Griffin paints the picture of a loveable rogue.

Chapter 6 (Vespasian/Levick) focuses on the rise of the Flavians from
rather obscure origins to masters of the Roman world. The chapter also
deals with Vespasian's respective successors, his sons Titus and
Domitian. In that context, there is a solid treatment of Vespasian's
dynastic principles. According to Levick, Vespasian was really in the
right place at the right time: in command of armies, in the East,
controlling Egypt, while others perhaps had stronger claims to the
principate (p. 134). Of interest, too, are Levick's insightful thoughts
on the proposed marriage of Julia to Domitian: "the relation of
son-in-law put the groom firmly in the younger generation, and Domitian
may have felt all along that he should have been his brother's partner
in power" (p. 151).[[6]] This chapter is a bit dry, but nevertheless
learned. Still, it is high time that ancient scholars avoid statements
such as the "homosexual Mucianus" (p. 149), which ignores some of the
important nuances of ancient sexuality.[[7]]

Chapter 7 (Hadrian/Boatwright) tries to describe the most complex of
Roman emperors in a succinct format -- and succeeds. There is a streak
of admiration for the subject that perhaps distorts some aspects of the
emperor's character and rule but, for the most part, the perfectionist,
hyper-critical and cultivated character of Hadrian comes to the fore.
There are a few aspects worth discussing here. Boatwright writes that
Hadrian became interested in "wine and young boys ... so as to
ingratiate himself with Trajan" (p. 162). But, from what we know of
Hadrian in his later life, he was naturally predisposed towards such
pursuits (Antinous, for example, is discussed on pp. 168-169 and
176-177).[[8]] Although it is generally thought that Hadrian had no
time for Sabina, his wife, Boatwright claims that he "he seems
possessive of his wife" and dismissed the praetorian prefect Septicius
Clarus and Suetonius "because they had treated Sabina more informally
than befitted the imperial court" (p. 169).[[9]] Hadrian was not the
sort of man to brook any disrespect, so this incident perhaps says more
about Hadrian's inflexible standards than anything about his personal
affection for his wife.

Chapter 8 (Marcus Aurelius/Birley) is a very good snapshot of the
Antonines, from Antoninus Pius's adoption by Hadrian, Marcus's co-rule
with Verus, through to Commodus. There is little that needs to be said
here -- the reader is in safe hands. Of interest is Birley's
observation that Hadrian's "two-tier succession system" (i.e.,
Antoninus Pius + Marcus Aurelius = Tiberius + Germanicus), the main
difference being that Hadrian's vision came to fruition (p. 184).
Finally, Birley contends that there was "never a so-called adoptive
principle" (p. 201). Indeed, that Marcus was the first emperor since
Vespasian to have a natural son ensured that Commodus would succeed
him, regardless of his character.

Chapter 9 (Septimius Severus/Potter) emphasizes the enigmatic nature of
Severus, the man and the emperor. Potter looks closely at the emperor's
reception among his peers, and highlights the 'foreign' aspect of the
man, who spoke Latin with a strong Punic accent. This has implications
for Potter's claim that Severus was instrumental in establishing
"greater cultural unity" in the ethnically and culturally diverse
empire (p. 218). The chapter includes a useful discussion of Commodus's
reign described (pp. 208-210), in addition to the events leading up to
Severus's imperial triumph. Aside from some slightly glib language
about Commodus's supposed gladiatorial activities (p. 209), there is
little to warrant any discussion or criticism here.

Chapter 10 (Diocletian/Corcoran) does an outstanding job at describing
the complexities inherent in Diocletian's rise to power, and his
founding of an imperial college, first a diarchy, then a tetrarchy.
Overall, Diocletian is defensibly portrayed as a "conservator and
restorer", not as a "radical reformer" (p. 235). Corcoran makes some
especially cogent remarks throughout this chapter. While some see
Diocletian "crafting a deliberately meritocratic college that was ...
anti-dynastic", Corcoran argues, and rightly in my view, that it is one
thing to adlect tour own sons-in-law as opposing to existing
sons-in-law (p. 232). To sum up, "Historically, emperors had chosen
sons as heirs whenever possible, and only lack of sons forced the
adoption of outsiders". There are a few puzzling comments. On p. 238,
the author notes that the "curly-bearded Greek style of the past 150
years gives way to a severe, trimmed, military look" under Diocletian
-- but what of Caracalla, who is similarly represented?[[10]] I am
perplexed as to why "Caesar" and "Augustus", as imperial titles, are
italicized.

Chapter 11 (Constantine/Lenski) begins with an excellent recounting of
the tortured political history of the imperial college post Diocletian
and Maximian's simultaneous abdication (pp. 260-263). Constanine's
religiosity is unavoidable, and Lenski cannot decide, with good reason,
whether the emperor's Christianity and "crypto-pagan" features was an
example of "realpolitik" or "some deeper psychological ambivalence" (p.
276). There is some repetition of imperial administration as per the
chapter on Diocletian (p. 271), while comments on Church architecture,
however interesting, are not greatly biographically relevant (pp.
268-270). My only other gripes are technical. Lenski's use of "count of
the imperial funds" and "count of the royal estate" is rather odd for
titles beginning with comes (p. 171).[[11]] The full Latin might have
been better, together with an explanation of the meaning. Likewise,
duces translated as "dukes" seems anachronistic, however etymologically
sound.[[12]] In sort, there is a lot of material covered here -- even
The Da Vinci Code gets a mention (p. 278).

Chapter 12 (Justinian/Evans) completes the volume. As stated
previously, a life of Justinian seems an odd fit at first glance -- a
supposition borne out from reading the chapter. There is certainly
nothing awry with the material contained within. It is just that the
subject matter has as little to do with Augustus as a chapter on
Arminius would have to do with Bismark. Witness a discussion of
Christian controversies relating to Christ's nature (pp. 281-282). Some
might maintain a contrary view -- and I will respect that. On p. 285,
there is a curious mention of "the good old House of Theodosius", even
though this is first mention of Theodosius I in the book! Of course,
the story of Justinian is also the story of his rages-to-riches wife
Theodora, while Belisarius's wars against the Vandals in Africa and the
Goths in Italy are discussed, together with activities in the East.
Perhaps, there is not as much on Justinian the man as some readers
might wish.

Suffice it to say that each of the individual chapter authors knows
their material well and communicates, in general, their individual
viewpoints on aspects on their subjects' reigns with confidence and
authority. Of course, some chapters are better written than others, but
not one singles itself out for especial criticism. Indeed, it is a
credit to each of the individual authors that they have taken the task
seriously (unlike that exhibited by authors in similar volumes), and
have been mindful of the demands placed on scholars to craft entries
that are meaningful yet still accessible. Some essays follow largely
longitudinal path, such as Eck's piece on Augustus, while others, such
as Evans' essay on Justinian, are somewhat more thematic. Which
approach is preferable depends largely on personal taste. What really
impresses is that, despite the obvious temporal gaps between some of
the essays, the whole thing works rather well. The editor has done a
sterling job in instructing the authors to provide almost seamless
links between the chapters. And the authors have carried out their
tasks well. There are few typographical errors, except for p. 74: "one
of wealthiest women"; and p. 256: Augustus and Caesar italicized but
also, oddly, Caesars (Caesares later on the same page).

In sum, the work largely achieves what it set out to do, that is, to
provide an overview of the reigns of important Roman emperors. Once
again, my main issue is the selection of the emperors, which is never
really explained, aside from some brief comments by Barrett on p. 2. To
be frank, there is not an especially great deal of interest here for
those familiar with the material and broader themes -- save for some
useful insights on occasion into matters of controversy. It is
therefore difficult to judge the book's appeal and indeed utility to
the not-so-well initiated. For what it is worth, I would venture to say
that there is plenty here for the "non-specialist reader" (p. 2) and,
even if such readers are not covering entirely new ground, they will at
least be impressed with the care taken in crafting the individual
entries.


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Notes:


1.   On Augustus and the annona, see, for example, Cass. Dio 52.24.6,
where an equestrian prefect of the grain supply (praefectus annonae)
was appointed towards the end of Augustus's reign.

2.   This interesting topic is now covered by S. H. Rutledge,
"Tiberius' Philhellenism", CW 101 (2008), 453-467.

3.   Suet. Ner. 20.1.

4.   Suet. Ner. 41.1.

5.   On this theme, see, for example, E. Champlin, Nero (Cambridge,
MA/London, 2003), 149, where Nero's marriage to the eunuch Sporus is
depicted as a conscious farce.

6.   On the possibility of a marriage between Julia and Domitian, see
K. H. Waters, "The Character of Domitian", Phoenix 18 (1964), 59-60,
who suggests there might have been "dynastic reasons" for Domitian to
have married Julia; see also id., "The Second Dynasty of Rome", Phoenix
17 (1963), 198-218; G. Townend, "Some Flavian Connections", JRS 51
(1961), 54.

7.   See H. N. Parker, "The Myth of the Heterosexual: Anthropology and
Sexuality for Classicists", Arethusa 34 (2001), 313-362.

8.   I would admit, however, that Trajan's same-sex tastes were perhaps
in a slightly different vein to those of Hadrian. If his later conduct
is anything to go by, Hadrian was more interested in the traditional
(and supposedly more cerebral) Athenian model of the erastes and the
eromenos, as witnessed in his relationship with Antinous; see A. R.
Birley, Hadrian: The Restless Emperor (London/New York, 1997), 2.
Trajan's approach may have been somewhat less refined.

9.   On this, see HA Hadr. 11.3.

10.   For a sculptural representation of Caracalla, see B. Andreae, Art
of Rome, trans. R. E. Wolf (New York, 1977), pl. 109.

11.   Presumably these titles refer to the comes sacrarum largitionum
and the comes rerum privatarum respectively.

12.   I also wonder about calling the Sassanid king a "Shah" (p. 275),
even if the word is closer to the Persian. This does not seem to be
usual, at least from my reading of ancient Persian history. Evans also
uses this word in his chapter on Justinian (pp. 285 and 297).