What do you think?
Rate this book
Sulla the Fortunate: Roman General and Dictator
Lucius Cornelius Sulla (138-78 BC), soldier, politician, and statesman, set the standard of dictator for the generations that followed his death―the most famous dictator to follow Sulla's systematic path to power was Julius Caesar. In his lifetime, Sulla faced issues such as the decay of religious faith, the end of the aristocracy, the rise of the proletariat, and the growth of international finance. It was unquestionably a momentous era in the world's history, and Sulla's story is a tale of the Roman ambition par alliances, battles against rival Roman armies, plots, assassinations, and a civil war initiated by Sulla himself in which he seized power.
328 pages, Paperback
First published May 8, 2001
5 people are currently reading
51 people want to read
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews
March 17, 2017
After working my way through Adrian Goldsworthy’s The Punic Wars, How Rome Fell and Caesar, followed by Mary Beard’s SPQR, I became curious about some of the figures that were mentioned in the latter two books but only lightly detailed: the Gracchi, Marius and of course Sulla. That sent me on a bit of a Sulla quadfecta of late, beginning with this book, GP Baker’s Sulla the Fortunate, followed by the only modern biography of him, Arthur Keaveney’s Sulla the Last Republican, and a chapter devoted to him in HH Scullard’s From the Gracchi to Nero and ending with a short 10 Sullan pages in Michael Grant’s magnum opus History of Rome. A glutton for punishment? Perhaps, but on to the review.
I should preface this by saying that to be fair, a writer should be judged by his times, rather than the era of the reader. How else can one really attempt to understand the perceptions, prejudices, and even the motives of the writer? Mores change and norms are neither stationary nor absolute. Most reasonable critics would not condemn Dante’s Divine Comedy solely based on him conscribing Sodomites to the 7th circle of hell. Nor should we scrap Shakespeare’s oeuvre solely based on a modern (and debatable) feminist interpretation of his Taming of the Shrew. Of course, GP Baker is no Dante or Shakespeare, though his writing style is a bit Edwardian. Literature is not history, or at least not in most cases. So one might be tempted to hold historians to a higher objective standard than other writers, though truly even this is a modern perspective. After all, historical/biographical writers going back as far as Plutarch (and further) and all the way up to Gibbon (and closer still) have clearly identified preferences and prejudices.
GP Baker published his Sullan biography in 1927. The times – his times – are somewhat reflected in his text. Class struggle and dictators figured in 100 BCE as well as 1927 CE. Euro-centricity was still pretty much the standard of both historians and writers in the early part of the 20th century. However, it is not terribly difficult to put aside Baker’s occasional reference to “Oriental despots” (Mithradates) and allusion to non-suitability of Europeans to slavery (Spartacus). These cultural and racial slants get less in the way than Baker’s frequently turgid, sometimes serpentine narrative. I knew I was in for a ride from the opening paragraph:
A narrow street, paved with cobbles: soaring tenements, straight, ugly, many-windowed: a distant roar of traffic: Rome, twenty-one centuries ago. A strongly built, middle-sized man, with startling blue eye, a purple-and-white complexion, and a shock of gold hair: Sulla whose tale this is.
It was pretty clear that this was not to be a typical historical biography but rather a quasi-poetic narrative sketch of a man and his times. There were numerous clever, pithy, and enjoyable phrases delivered by Baker. A few examples:
If Fortune had stayed her hand at this point there might be no more tale to tell; but when does Fortune stay her hand?
He was one of those uncommon men who were always popular, always trusted, and always trustworthy; but if he had merely walked to and fro on the street, he would somehow have made a fortune out of it. (Lucullus)
Perhaps nothing illustrates better than such an instance the core of truth in the creed of the cynics, who think the folly and evil of humanity larger than its wisdom or its goodness.
There were few crimes he had not committed and we know of no good deed he had ever performed. (Jugurtha)
And so on.
The footnoting is sparse and bibliography non-existent. Baker is often ambivalent about the veracity of the ancient sources. They – the sources, that is – could rarely be trusted to accurately convey troop sizes, and modern historians take them with a large shaker of salt. In the course of about three pages the author covers and soft-pedals the notorious Proscriptions – upon which Sulla’s primary infamy rests – whilst Keaveney gives it an entire chapter.
Why read about Sulla? In order to understand Ancient Rome’s transition from Republic to Empire you are likely to start with the Gracchi and end with Augustus. The two towering giants of Pompey and Caesar tussled over the fate of an already un-republican Republic but prior to them was Sulla. The first to march on Rome (twice), the first defacto dictator perpetuo, Lucius Cornelius Sulla Felix – the Fortunate – tried to save the Republic but in the end showed how to topple it.
Until and if Sulla’s own autobiography is ever discovered extant, we have the two biographies by Baker and Keaveney. If one wanted the one book on Sulla, Baker’s would not be it. Keaveney’s more modern history (1982) is a clearer-written, straight-forward narrative coupled with insightful analysis (and copious footnoting!).
I should preface this by saying that to be fair, a writer should be judged by his times, rather than the era of the reader. How else can one really attempt to understand the perceptions, prejudices, and even the motives of the writer? Mores change and norms are neither stationary nor absolute. Most reasonable critics would not condemn Dante’s Divine Comedy solely based on him conscribing Sodomites to the 7th circle of hell. Nor should we scrap Shakespeare’s oeuvre solely based on a modern (and debatable) feminist interpretation of his Taming of the Shrew. Of course, GP Baker is no Dante or Shakespeare, though his writing style is a bit Edwardian. Literature is not history, or at least not in most cases. So one might be tempted to hold historians to a higher objective standard than other writers, though truly even this is a modern perspective. After all, historical/biographical writers going back as far as Plutarch (and further) and all the way up to Gibbon (and closer still) have clearly identified preferences and prejudices.
GP Baker published his Sullan biography in 1927. The times – his times – are somewhat reflected in his text. Class struggle and dictators figured in 100 BCE as well as 1927 CE. Euro-centricity was still pretty much the standard of both historians and writers in the early part of the 20th century. However, it is not terribly difficult to put aside Baker’s occasional reference to “Oriental despots” (Mithradates) and allusion to non-suitability of Europeans to slavery (Spartacus). These cultural and racial slants get less in the way than Baker’s frequently turgid, sometimes serpentine narrative. I knew I was in for a ride from the opening paragraph:
A narrow street, paved with cobbles: soaring tenements, straight, ugly, many-windowed: a distant roar of traffic: Rome, twenty-one centuries ago. A strongly built, middle-sized man, with startling blue eye, a purple-and-white complexion, and a shock of gold hair: Sulla whose tale this is.
It was pretty clear that this was not to be a typical historical biography but rather a quasi-poetic narrative sketch of a man and his times. There were numerous clever, pithy, and enjoyable phrases delivered by Baker. A few examples:
If Fortune had stayed her hand at this point there might be no more tale to tell; but when does Fortune stay her hand?
He was one of those uncommon men who were always popular, always trusted, and always trustworthy; but if he had merely walked to and fro on the street, he would somehow have made a fortune out of it. (Lucullus)
Perhaps nothing illustrates better than such an instance the core of truth in the creed of the cynics, who think the folly and evil of humanity larger than its wisdom or its goodness.
There were few crimes he had not committed and we know of no good deed he had ever performed. (Jugurtha)
And so on.
The footnoting is sparse and bibliography non-existent. Baker is often ambivalent about the veracity of the ancient sources. They – the sources, that is – could rarely be trusted to accurately convey troop sizes, and modern historians take them with a large shaker of salt. In the course of about three pages the author covers and soft-pedals the notorious Proscriptions – upon which Sulla’s primary infamy rests – whilst Keaveney gives it an entire chapter.
Why read about Sulla? In order to understand Ancient Rome’s transition from Republic to Empire you are likely to start with the Gracchi and end with Augustus. The two towering giants of Pompey and Caesar tussled over the fate of an already un-republican Republic but prior to them was Sulla. The first to march on Rome (twice), the first defacto dictator perpetuo, Lucius Cornelius Sulla Felix – the Fortunate – tried to save the Republic but in the end showed how to topple it.
Until and if Sulla’s own autobiography is ever discovered extant, we have the two biographies by Baker and Keaveney. If one wanted the one book on Sulla, Baker’s would not be it. Keaveney’s more modern history (1982) is a clearer-written, straight-forward narrative coupled with insightful analysis (and copious footnoting!).
April 7, 2020
I did one of the stupid things I sometimes do and read a book that overlapped chronologically with this. It left me confused.
Overall I think it was written very clearly and his effort to salvage some of Sulla’s reputation well done though I say that not knowing much of the other argument.
Overall I think it was written very clearly and his effort to salvage some of Sulla’s reputation well done though I say that not knowing much of the other argument.
May 8, 2013
Sulla already is facing an uphill battle with my sympathies by virtue of being the biggest douche-bag this side of the Common Era. I find it incredibly difficult to consider anything but the worst of opinions on a man so terrified by the populace he stamped the Tribunes down to insignificance undoing some 400 years of reform, stormed Rome before it was cool (making him the hipster of Roman Civil Wars), drew up proscription lists which were ploys to seize private land, and he was a saturated drunk on top of all else.
Baker's biography of Sulla doesn't help any. The book is itself more historic relic than anything, and suffers from a lack of sources, index, and a great degree of authorial prejudice against anyone east of the Aegean. Baker set out to do a character sketch of the man, and tell some history in the process which is completely unnecessary since Plutarch did both first and better for that matter.
This book stands however as an excellent example of the paradigm that has latched on to Roman studies since Shakespeare's Coriolanus: the civilized, noble aristocrat versus the sweaty, stupid mob. It is a paradigm that must be broken, not only for our own understanding of Ancient Rome, but also so that books such as this can be disposed of once and for all.
Baker's biography of Sulla doesn't help any. The book is itself more historic relic than anything, and suffers from a lack of sources, index, and a great degree of authorial prejudice against anyone east of the Aegean. Baker set out to do a character sketch of the man, and tell some history in the process which is completely unnecessary since Plutarch did both first and better for that matter.
This book stands however as an excellent example of the paradigm that has latched on to Roman studies since Shakespeare's Coriolanus: the civilized, noble aristocrat versus the sweaty, stupid mob. It is a paradigm that must be broken, not only for our own understanding of Ancient Rome, but also so that books such as this can be disposed of once and for all.
April 7, 2008
Used in the later Empire as a name to scare children, Sulla does not disappoint.
Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews