Lissa Oliver's Blog, page 6

Man of the people

We’ve so far seen a glimpse into Nero’s childhood, adolescence and death, but what of his life as emperor? His 14-year reign was a perpetual battle with the Senate, steadily alienating himself from his peers until finally washing his hands of politics. The more he improved life for the commons, the more he earned the enmity of the aristocracy. He was finally declared by his successor to be an Enemy of the State, a reviled monster, and that has come down to us through the centuries. What’s interesting is that the atrocities of his day would today be seen as acts of great good. The fact that the commons mourned his passing and laid fresh flowers on his tomb every day, for 50 years after his death, also tells us more about his reign than the myths we now remember.

Nero - The Last Caesar

Death of an emperor

Dead! And so great an actor! These are the final words often attributed to Nero, though they were said in the cheerier final hours, as he tried to keep up his spirits and those of his companions. His final words, recorded by his companions on 8th June AD68, were far more chilling. He had awoken that morning in a deserted Palace, all but his closest friends gone and his former troops preparing for the arrival of Galba, successfully marching on Rome from Spain. Nero's friends took him to one of their homes, on the outskirts of the city, where he was urged to take his own life rather than be publicly tortured and killed by Galba.
“No! My hour has not yet come!” he repeated, sobbing in the arms of Sporus. “Don't let them cut off my head, please don't let them cut off my head. Let me be buried in one piece.” He clung to Sporus tightly, pleading, “Promise to mourn me, weep for me when I am gone.” In Greek, he reproached himself for his fear, “Oh! Such cowardice! This certainly is no credit to Nero, no credit at all. Come, pull yourself together.” Yet he could not bring himself to raise the dagger given to him by Epaphroditus.
Suddenly, he sat up sharply and his face glazed with joy. “Hark! Hark to the sound I hear! It is hooves of galloping horses.” It was the approaching cavalry, sent by Galba to take him alive. He reached calmly for the dagger and raised it steadily to his throat, pushing it against the skin without drawing blood. His hand began to shake and Epaphroditus gently placed his own hand over Nero's; the blade was driven home. A centurion burst in and tried to staunch the gaping wound with his cloak, intent on returning Nero alive to Galba for public torture. Misinterpreting his action, Nero grasped his hand and his dying words were, “Too late! But, ah, such fidelity!”

Nero - The Last Caesar
AVAILABLE THIS WEEK AS A FREE DOWNLOAD ON AMAZON!

Nero's influences

Tomorrow marks the anniversary of Nero's death, in AD68, and so this month I am celebrating his remarkable life. As of today, for the next six days only, my novel, Nero - The Last Caesar is available free to download as an eBook from Amazon. The paperback is also available at a reduced price throughout June. There will be a special offer for Goodreads Friends tomorrow, so tune in!
Why celebrate his life? As you may have seen from the Diary this month, Nero was a socialist and fought for equality. Much of those beliefs stemmed from his unusual childhood. His close, lifelong, friends from childhood also influenced him. Stoic Seneca, his tutor and mentor; the slave Halotus; the ex-slave and Imperial Secretary, Epaphroditus; Senecio, son of an ex-slave; and Otho, a descendent of the Etruscan royal house, Nero's closest friend. Senecio was ambitious, but Otho and Nero (described by Seneca as “uncomfortably alike in character and attitude”) were anything but. Having inherited a great fortune, the equivalent today of €20m, Otho had spent it all by the age of 21. He had no interest in office, but, like Nero, became Emperor of Rome (in AD69) much against his will, during which time he completed Nero's projects and ensured lifelong safety for Nero's friends and staff. Before Imperial duty forced Nero into politics, the friends preferred to keep company with the commons, frequenting the markets and races instead of the Palace. Which is why Nero was loathed by his peers and that hatred has lived on in the myths handed down by history.

Emperor Nero, 16

Agrippina had tried to rule through her brother “Caligula” and had quite successfully ruled through Claudius and his Financial Minister – and her lover – Pallas, but when her grip over Claudius weakened it was time for Plan C. Nero's childhood came to an abrupt end at the age of sixteen, when his mother poisoned Claudius and he became Emperor of Rome. His initial reaction was to to abdicate and become a musician in Greece. His best friends, Otho and Senecio, and tutor Seneca, convinced him of the certain death resulting from such a move. Emperor was a shaky position and no successor would want a competitor left lurking in the wings. On the plus side, they argued, if Nero remained Emperor he could start to implement some of the radical ideas he had talked of so often at the races, when mixing with the poor of Rome. And so the world's first socialist leader stepped into power.

Nero's teen troubles

Teen years are full of angst, with unreasonable demands to tidy rooms, being forced out of bed at unreasonable hours and the ever-increasing threat of terminal virginity. For Nero, the sudden promotion to heir to an Empire brought added pressures. At fifteen he became City Prefect, the youngest ever to be given such office, presiding over major cases at the Tribunal. He was also betrothed, against his will and hers, to his younger step-sister Octavia; the wedding set for when they both came of legal age and designed by Agrippina and Claudius to cement his position as Claudius' successor. He had already revealed his anti-Imperialist politics to Seneca and his best friend Otho and he frequently confided in both that he would run away to Greece to earn a living when the time came, rather than succeed Claudius. Claudius being far from old and infirm, that time still seemed a long way off; and Claudius' eight-year-old son Britannicus, they believed, would have more claim to the throne by then.

Nero - The Last Caesar

Pre-teen Nero & a new tutor

Having earned a meagre living diving for pearls (which would later have a major impact on her destiny), Agrippina was restored to Rome when her Uncle Claudius succeeded Caligula as Emperor. Despite a massive age gap – and the incest laws that needed to be changed to allow it – she married Claudius and became Empress. Nine-year-old Nero was suddenly returned to the care of his mother and adopted by the Emperor. The renowned Stoic, Seneca, was hired as his tutor and noted of Nero that 'he could dash off essays with ridiculous ease'. Rather like myself throughout school, Nero preferred to 'etch drawings of racehorses onto his wax tablet' than concentrate on lessons, but, unlike myself, always answered correctly when pulled up on his apparent lack of attention! We also shared the practise of skipping school to go racing! Thankfully, I wasn't viciously flogged for it, though. Nero was not so lucky. Seneca remained a friend and advisor to Nero until his death, a little more than two years before Nero's own death.

Nero - The Last Caesar

Nero, his formative years

Fortunately for Nero, and if you read yesterday's piece you'll understand why I say that, his father died when he was three and his mother was banished from Rome by Caligula. That left the toddler to be raised in the Palace by his paternal aunt, whose choice of tutors for him were a famed ballet dancer and her hairdresser, both ex-slaves. Their influence was lasting. His passion for the Arts was sparked, as was his disregard for class barriers; not to mention an interest in outrageous fashion and foreign shoulder-length hairstyles that later annoyed and distanced his peers. As a punk, I approved of his use of fashion to distance himself from – and antagonise – his peers. The common citizens approved, too; so already we see the future 'man of the people' emerging, thanks to an unorthodox early education.

Nero - The Last Caesar

The birth of Nero!

Nero's birth wasn't one to be celebrated at face-value, yet another Caesar in a long line of scheming, ambitious would-be rulers. His mother, Agrippina; a sister of the reigning Emperor Gaius, better known to us now as Caligula. His father, Gnaeus; given office well away from Rome because the Emperor found him “too cruel and distasteful and rather frightening”. It didn't bode well and the writers of the day provided me with my opening lines for the biographical novel:
The baby's cries reverberated through the marble loggia as it kicked uncomfortably within the unfamiliar arms of its mother.
'Dash its brains out against a pillar,' Gnaeus Ahenobarbus advised his beautiful young wife.
She handed the child roughly to him.
'It's your son; you do it.'
He held the screaming infant at arm's length until Agrippina finally relented and took back her first born.
'I would have been thanked, you know,' Gnaeus reflected. 'Any child born to you and me is bound to have a detestable nature and to become a public danger!'

Nero - The Last Caesar

Nero, June celebration Day 1

Nero was born in December AD37, but I preferred to celebrate his life, rather than his birth. He was born just another imperial prince; maybe not destined for the throne, but destined to become another oppressing aristocrat. At some point early in his childhood it became clear that would never happen. It was his strong sense of equality and socialist policies that attracted me to him, and so I celebrate his achievements and legacy, 1,850 years after the aristocracy he despised and fought against finally drove him to an early death. Each day through June I’ll introduce you to the Nero you never knew (and not a fiddle in sight!) in memory of his passing, 8th June AD68.

Seeing in a new season, in print

Today is the first day of the British horseracing Flat season and it has always left its mark on me, going back over 40 years. So it's fitting to share its influence on my work by sharing the opening lines of Sainte Bastien:

It was, if nothing else, a memorable start to the Flat season.
A large crowd cheered and whistled as Mark Ashton walked from the grandiose pillared steps of the Doncaster weighing room out to the parade ring, his head high, his hand raising in the jockeys' time-honoured gesture of 'touching the cap' as he acknowledged the crowd. His smile said it all.
It was good to be back.
His appearance in the parade ring was remarkable for two things. For one, he didn't have a ride in the race. For another, he didn't have a stitch on.
At once, the momentarily stunned groups within the parade ring erupted into sudden life, some attempting to wrap Ashton in coats and discarded horse sheets, while others closed ranks around him, blocking the view of gawping outsiders. The St John's Ambulance crew hurried forward uncertainly, not quite trained in invisible injuries.