Tremendulent!

Consisting of four different novels covering the "Year of the Four Emperors"; I had heard good things about these books, and reading Flavius Josephus with cahn finally made me check them out. These four novels cover the "Year of the Four Emperors", aka the time between the uprising against Nero and his suicide and the emergence of Vespasian as the final victor of a year long struggle for the rule of the Roman Empire during which three different candidates before Vespasian all rose and fell. These novels' most inspired narrative decision was to tell these events from the pov of the palace staff, slaves and freedmen (and -women) alike, so we have an ongoing set of characters, partly historical in origin, partly fictional, through whose eyes we see wannabe Emperors come and go.

The individual novels are: "Palatine" (Nero dies mid book already, because the rise and fall providing the red thread of the novel isn't his but of one of the two Praetorian Prefects, Nymphidius Sabinus, who is instrumental in Nero's downfall but then gets ideas before the agreed upon successor, Galba, even has arrived in Rome), "Galba's Men" (Galba finally shows up in Rome; it doesn't end well for him), "Otoh's Regret" (Otho finds out what being Emperor really means) and "Vitellius' Feast" (Vitellius manages to make Nero look good postumously). And while the Emperors on question do get narrative space - I think Otho gets the most, because he's already an important character in "Galba's Men" - , none of them is ever the main character - their rise and fall just provides the outward plot, while what the novels are really about is how this effects our main cast who occupies all variations between "just tries to survive this insanity"' and "is very ambitious themselves" , with "can't stand seeing things done incompetently" and "actually starts to believe it's important who is Emperor'" are featuring as motivations.

This bunch of main characters we follow through all the novels are: Epaphroditos (Nero's wily private secretary, freedman, started out as a boy slave in the Julian-Claudian household in the reign of Tiberius), Philo (Epaphroditos' assistant - "the private secretary's secretary" - , very competent and sweet natured, too sweet natured, in fact, for his own good), Artemina ("Mina", quick-tempered, starting out as a towel holder for Nero's Empress but determined to do very much more), Sporus (eunuch, Nero's favourite), Lysander (announcer) and Felix (head of slave placements and overseers), Teretia (daughter of Philo's landlady, in love with ihm) . There are others, female and male alike, who don't make it through all four novels or are introduced not in the first one but later, like Caenis, a freedwoman of the Imperial Household (and thus everyone's old acquaintance) showing up in "Otho's Regret" with very much an agenda of her own (and I have to say this is my favourite fictional depiction of Caenis yet, including Lindsay Davis' novel about her, which alas I felt was a bit of a let down mid novel onwards), or the moody teenager who is the younger son of Caenis' lover, one Domitian. (gelliaclodiana, you were looking for a depiction of Domitian where he's not a (present or future) psycho; this is it. He has teenage angst, but is clearly bright, and the sympathetic characters of the novel like him.) There are also those who for entirely non lethal reasons are just in one novel but noth another (not least because they wisely high tail it out of Rome when their survival demands it, like Nero's mistress of the wardrobe - and orgy choreographer - Calvia Crispinilla). As I said, some of these are actual historical figures (like Epaphroditos, Sporus or Caenis), others are fictional, but all of them have had the experience of powerlessness in the past even if they don't in the present, and that means the emotional stakes are there in a way they probably wouldn't be if we were just following the Emperors. For example: there are plenty of good reasons to depose Nero, of course. You don't fret for Nero himself. But then you realise the Praetorians taking the palace also means they're going to feel themselves entitled to have a go (i.e. rape) at Nero's slaves, and suddenly you care very much. Or: there is a famous incident involving the crowd when Galba arrives at the Milvian bridge. But Teretia and her father are within the crowd who has shown up to greet their new Emperor, which means said incident now feels incredibly personal. and so forth.

There is a lot of black humour in these books, and yet - or perhaps even because of that - the actual tragedies hit very hard. (I was reminded of the tv adaption of I, Claudius in this regard.) And for 99% of the characters three dimensional characterisations. (Including the Emperors. The only one who is just 100% awful is Vitellius.) The narrative premise that the palace staff is the one who actually keeps the Empire going irrespective of who happens to be Emperor also reminds me of British tv, though in this case Yes, Minister, but of course there is no slavery in 20th century Britain. And since most of the main cast are either former slaves or currently slaves, I was curious ahead of reading the books of how the author would treat the subject. For starters: not via the Spartacus approach (i.e. focusing on slaves fighting for their freedom). None of the characters think slavery per se is wrong; the freedmen (and -women) have slaves themselves. (This is historically accurate but quite often doesn't make it into fictional depictions.) There is also, early on, a lot of emotional identification with their masters' causes. At the same time, the narrative, I think, succeeds in making it clear that being a slave, even if your owner is the "considerate" type actually bothering to use your name instead of "boy" or "girl" , is to be in constant non stop danger of life and limb, simply because there is no legal protection whatsoever, and even if your current owner doesn't see themselves as entitled to have sex with you or beat you, the next one might, and/or any misfortune they suffer could lead to your own (painful) death. For all the banter and black humor, this undercurrent is there.

(I also thought the relationships between classes and free/unfree worked for me. For example, ( Epaphroditos and Nero. )

Nitpicks: the first two novels feature one of my pet peeves, to wit, characters using the expression "okay", even in initialized form (i.e. "ok"). I'm not a linguistic purist when it comes to historical novels, but that's one of the exceptions. So I was really glad novels 3 and 4 no longer had this.

Trigger warnings: did I mention the main characters are either former or present slaves in a society where the idea of consent for anyone not a freeborn Roman man is non existent? I will say that explicit scenes in the sense that we get detailed descriptions are rare, not because they don't happen but because the author usually works via implication and/or showing the aftermath.

State of the history: While Suetonius and Tacitus are clearly the main sources here, I would say the novels take the current state of historical research into account. I.e. Nero may be loathed by the Senate and increasingly by the higher ranking military, but he's wildly popular with the masses (and not responsible for the Great Fire of Rome), Domitian does not spend his spare time as a moody teen killing flies to signal the future. The big twist of Otho's life - ( which is spoilery ) is build up to through two novels. I wll say that in addition to the above mentioned "OK" in the first two novels, I am thrown by some of the very Anglophone shortening of names (hence Mina, or Alex for Alexander), but the slave names themselves, where invented, strike me as plausible (mostly Greek, which is what the Romans liked to do), and the various celebrations of Roman festivals, not just the well known ones like the Saturnalia, to mark the year are a good way to get some exposition about Roman every day life across. Notably NOT catering for what's popular is the fact that is no gladiator among either the main or the supporting cast. I found that ever so refreshing.

In conclusion: an enjoyable series of novels set during a truly outrageously bizarre year of Roman history.