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The Sword of Pleasure
This novel is a reconstruction of the life of Lucius Cornelius Sulla, who ruled the dying Roman Republic forty years before the death of Julius Caesar, as he himself might have written it.
Sulla was born in an uneasy generation which had lost faith in the stern yet obsolete code of the old Republic. Out of Peter Green's reconstruction of the historical scene Sulla emerges not as a figure in a history book but as an intensely human personality - full-blooded, hardened by disappointment, a tyrant despite himself. Though him and his friends and enemies - not to mention his four remarkable wives - the author brings the Roman Republic to life for us in all its splendour and cruelty.
Sulla was born in an uneasy generation which had lost faith in the stern yet obsolete code of the old Republic. Out of Peter Green's reconstruction of the historical scene Sulla emerges not as a figure in a history book but as an intensely human personality - full-blooded, hardened by disappointment, a tyrant despite himself. Though him and his friends and enemies - not to mention his four remarkable wives - the author brings the Roman Republic to life for us in all its splendour and cruelty.
- GenresHistorical Fiction
Paperback
First published January 1, 1957
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About the author
Peter Green
67 books91 followersThere is more than one author by this name in the database.
Peter Morris Green was a British classical scholar and novelist noted for his works on the Greco-Persian Wars, Alexander the Great and the Hellenistic Age of ancient history, generally regarded as spanning the era from the death of Alexander in 323 BC up to either the date of the Battle of Actium or the death of Augustus in 14 AD.
Peter Morris Green was a British classical scholar and novelist noted for his works on the Greco-Persian Wars, Alexander the Great and the Hellenistic Age of ancient history, generally regarded as spanning the era from the death of Alexander in 323 BC up to either the date of the Battle of Actium or the death of Augustus in 14 AD.
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Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews
September 21, 2023
If you read Colleen McCullough's magnificent 'Masters of Rome'novels first, this book will be weighed, measured and found wanting in comparison.
If you, like me, fell in love with Sulla due to said books, this won't satisfy your ache for more of him.
If you simply are curious to know how another author interprets this captivating Roman, and don't mind infodump, some historical liberties of note, dry prose and drier psychological portrayal, and are willing to suffer Roman political squabbling with the stoicism of the average citizen from the time who had the misfortune of being at the Forum during a round of speeches, and without the alternative of the circus for some relief... then this book might mean passable entertainment to you.
To me, though, the book was just tolerable. Is it good? Yes, in the same sense that a dish you don't particularly enjoy can be called good if it calms your hunger. It could best be summed with this quote from the last chapter:
"Tell them what their father was, Lucullus:
when the evil, weak, spiteful tongues obscure truth, when the
rabble stone my monument and defile my ashes, tell them
Tell them, not of the Dictator, the general, the public figure;
tell them of Lucius Sulla who was your friend.
The thing is, however, that the novel didn't show us that 'real' Sulla that he is so intent on revealing to his children, and to the reader too. Instead, the Sulla we see is the Dictator, the general, the public figure, and aside his poverty-stricken childhood, too sparsely described, and an invented (and wholly unnecessary, in my opinion) facial disfigurement, we don't get to know what drives Sulla the man, and when we do, it's not satisfactory because in the end it all boils down to Sulla the Politician. To me, that's the book's failure, and makes me think that even if I had read this before McCullough's and not vice versa, it would've still suffered in the comparison, because the contents are nothing that I couldn't find in my Roman history texts; what's more, I'd likely have been even more bothered by some liberties the author took with the historical facts, like the premature death of Cornelia Sulla, who the sources mention still lived long after, which don't make sense within the narrative and just add melodrama.
All in all, a book I'd recommend only to Sulla enthusiasts resistant to disappointment.
If you, like me, fell in love with Sulla due to said books, this won't satisfy your ache for more of him.
If you simply are curious to know how another author interprets this captivating Roman, and don't mind infodump, some historical liberties of note, dry prose and drier psychological portrayal, and are willing to suffer Roman political squabbling with the stoicism of the average citizen from the time who had the misfortune of being at the Forum during a round of speeches, and without the alternative of the circus for some relief... then this book might mean passable entertainment to you.
To me, though, the book was just tolerable. Is it good? Yes, in the same sense that a dish you don't particularly enjoy can be called good if it calms your hunger. It could best be summed with this quote from the last chapter:
"Tell them what their father was, Lucullus:
when the evil, weak, spiteful tongues obscure truth, when the
rabble stone my monument and defile my ashes, tell them
Tell them, not of the Dictator, the general, the public figure;
tell them of Lucius Sulla who was your friend.
The thing is, however, that the novel didn't show us that 'real' Sulla that he is so intent on revealing to his children, and to the reader too. Instead, the Sulla we see is the Dictator, the general, the public figure, and aside his poverty-stricken childhood, too sparsely described, and an invented (and wholly unnecessary, in my opinion) facial disfigurement, we don't get to know what drives Sulla the man, and when we do, it's not satisfactory because in the end it all boils down to Sulla the Politician. To me, that's the book's failure, and makes me think that even if I had read this before McCullough's and not vice versa, it would've still suffered in the comparison, because the contents are nothing that I couldn't find in my Roman history texts; what's more, I'd likely have been even more bothered by some liberties the author took with the historical facts, like the premature death of Cornelia Sulla, who the sources mention still lived long after, which don't make sense within the narrative and just add melodrama.
All in all, a book I'd recommend only to Sulla enthusiasts resistant to disappointment.
March 13, 2017
These words, I, Lucius Cornelius Sulla, knowing myself sick of a mortal disease, send to Rome, her Senate, and her citizens. May the living learn from the faults and virtues of my example....They will destroy my words if they can--Pompeius, Metella's smug, stupid, all-powerful relatives, every small, mean, ambitious man who fears to remember the truth. They will destroy my words, and rewrite the past in their own image. I will have no advocate with posterity. Yet the words must be written."
As Sulla lies sick and dying he writes his memoirs which contain an apologia for his decisions and bloody actions. He has wanted to purify a corrupt Rome. The novel tells of his military successes--against Jugurtha in Africa, in the Social civil war tearing Italy apart; in Greece and of his rivalry with Gaius Marius and their mutual hatred. He tells of his personal life--marriages and family. He rises to Supreme Power as Dictator. The strawberry birthmark covering much of his face is seen as an omen: it supposedly points to a god's marking him from birth for the purple of the highest office. He hopes to leaves as legacy reform of Rome's laws. But illness--stomach ulcer? cancer?-- strikes him down. He confesses to us: I learned--too late--that a man has only one life, to use as Fortune and his guiding star dictate. I have learned the humiliation of old age, emptiness of wasted years...the failure of my high ideal[s].
Beautifully written portrait of an ancient figure, poignant in places. Most highly recommended.
As Sulla lies sick and dying he writes his memoirs which contain an apologia for his decisions and bloody actions. He has wanted to purify a corrupt Rome. The novel tells of his military successes--against Jugurtha in Africa, in the Social civil war tearing Italy apart; in Greece and of his rivalry with Gaius Marius and their mutual hatred. He tells of his personal life--marriages and family. He rises to Supreme Power as Dictator. The strawberry birthmark covering much of his face is seen as an omen: it supposedly points to a god's marking him from birth for the purple of the highest office. He hopes to leaves as legacy reform of Rome's laws. But illness--stomach ulcer? cancer?-- strikes him down. He confesses to us: I learned--too late--that a man has only one life, to use as Fortune and his guiding star dictate. I have learned the humiliation of old age, emptiness of wasted years...the failure of my high ideal[s].
Beautifully written portrait of an ancient figure, poignant in places. Most highly recommended.
February 22, 2019
I came onto this book on the heels of Peter Green’s
Achilles His Armour
, which left me very impressed. But as I think back on it, Peter Green has always been a Greek specialist and one whose main interest is in the late Classical and Hellenistic periods. His novels set outside that time are likely to be less vibrant than that one.
The problem I have with this book is that the characters aren’t very interesting. Not even the narrator, Sulla, himself. That’s a problem in a fictional autobiography. He spends most of the book whining about how he failed and everything he’s done is being destroyed, which I found both tedious as a refrain and doubtful as a fact. I suspect Sulla went to his death quite cheerful about his achievements (else why quit, a monumentally important fact the novel omits?) if perhaps a bit uncertain if they would last. About the only interesting characteristic Sulla has is his difficulty seeing people as people rather than things. He doesn’t really understand people and mostly makes no effort to do so, to the frustration of some of his plans. Aside from that, his most distinguishing characteristic is his birthmark, which is droned on about constantly for minimal effect. I suppose Green felt he needed some reason for Sulla to feel unfairly disadvantaged his whole life, but I’d have thought his background (an aristocratic family reduced to living in a slum) explained this better than a fictitious birthmark. His family background here seemed unhappy enough to justify his discontent. As to the secondary characters, there’s very little growth to be had. Marius is a hick, Lucullus is a patrician idealist, Drusus a reasonable revolutionary, etc. And they stay that way to the end with little to no development.
Part of my problem is undoubtedly the fact that I’ve been spoiled by Colleen McCullough’s excellent Masters of Rome series and its brilliant depiction of Marius and Sulla. It’s not entirely fair to make this comparison. McCullough had three novels to develop Sulla as a character while Green’s single book is maybe a third the length of just one of them. But her Sulla was such a richly drawn and even likable bastard right from the get-go, and his relationship with Marius such a tragic kick in the teeth, that it’s hard not to miss the emotional complexity that defined them. Heck, I’d have taken Richard Harris’ deliciously wicked Sulla from the Julius Caesar miniseries over this. Though very different, they both have a zest for life and theatrical streak that makes him infinitely more appealing than this sad sack.
Sulla does at least get better with time. Once he becomes the leader in events his personality starts to bloom as his cynicism and idealism starts to clash. He even becomes somewhat funny in his way, as his realist approach to politics collides with the pleasant lies most people believe. His sheer audacity is fun to play with. And he actually has his own doubts and failings to confront. This is what was lacking in the first half. Sure, we get the elderly narrator commenting on his failures (an element that seems all but vanished in the second half) but without understanding the reason behind his regrets we have little to connect to. Young Sulla really needed to be more of a reprobate to make his insecurities and contradictions apparent. The conflict between the crass man who grew up loving the theater and other common pursuits and the proud aristocrat he always felt he should be is something that only shows up towards the end, and that in the conflict between pragmatism and idealism. Pragmatism always wins.
I do understand part of why the book struggles to engage. It’s difficult to write a story from the viewpoint of a man you’re supposed to disagree with, at least in part. His view of the situation is inherently unjust, but how can you know that unless you have access to an outside source? The compromises taken to provide some nuance, such as having Sulla ask and record conversations about the Gracchi with his slaves, seem artificial at best. He’s not overly concerned about being fair elsewhere, why here? This feels like a story that needed multiple POVs to work. At times I’m not sure whether we’re expected to agree with him or despise him, and while that could be seen as complexity and moral ambiguity, here I suspect it’s more a case of the options not being clear.
The book also has a very simplified Marxist view of the fall of the Republic. Everything bad revolves around the corruption caused by “capitalists”. Once money was brought into the system it all went to pieces as bribes and business interests took over. The big watershed moment Sulla recognizes is when “bankers” were given control of the courts. “Bankers” is used here to describe the entire equestrian class (only a tiny fraction of whom were actual bankers), but elsewhere it seems to mean publicani, who weren’t bankers but privatized tax collectors. At other times it means literal bankers, although they seem more closely akin to modern bankers than ancient ones, with their lines of government credit and lending policies. The term “banker” is used almost interchangeably with the word “burgher”. This German word (meaning cityfolk) usually refers to the wealthy bourgeoisie, a term which was, perhaps, deemed a step too far. It’s not really clear what Roman factions either group encompasses. Like a lot of Marxist historiography this basic economic conflict is a gross and binary oversimplification of a highly complicated set of relationships stuffed into a one-size-fits-all frame. Sulla, and I can’t believe I have to stress this, was not a socialist.
At the end of the day I just don’t think Peter Green has as much love for the Romans as he does for the Greeks. The man lived in Greece for years, only leaving when the military junta took over and made life there dangerous. He never displayed much interest in Italy. And it shows. Green seems to have an affection for odd men out; those who don’t really fit in with their peers. And that’s the center of his affection for Sulla. But it’s not matched with a similar affection for the Republic, which accounts for the somewhat bland approach he takes here. He just doesn’t have a great feel for it. We have no real indication of the nature of the class divides for example. He only mentions the equestrian (knight) order twice and uses patrician to refer to all aristocrats. Imagine my surprise to see him refer to patrician tribunes! For all the talk of corruption there’s nothing on patronage or patron-client relationships. We don’t really see how the Republic operated.
So while this book was not without merit I didn’t find it particularly engaging. It rushes through the interesting bits without much pause and doesn’t really feel like we’re going in-depth into either Sulla’s life or the late Republic. It does get better towards the end as the more memorable moments of Sulla’s life start to play out (the march on Rome, his war with Mithridates, his reign as dictator...) and he starts to display a more reckless personality, but by that point it seems a bit too late. Masters of Rome skips Sulla’s Mithraditic war and jumps straight to his return to Italy, so fans of those books clamoring to see what Sulla gets up to in Greece may find this filling in some of the gaps. Otherwise I’d recommend that people seek out those books instead. They tell Sulla’s story with more charm and drama.
The problem I have with this book is that the characters aren’t very interesting. Not even the narrator, Sulla, himself. That’s a problem in a fictional autobiography. He spends most of the book whining about how he failed and everything he’s done is being destroyed, which I found both tedious as a refrain and doubtful as a fact. I suspect Sulla went to his death quite cheerful about his achievements (else why quit, a monumentally important fact the novel omits?) if perhaps a bit uncertain if they would last. About the only interesting characteristic Sulla has is his difficulty seeing people as people rather than things. He doesn’t really understand people and mostly makes no effort to do so, to the frustration of some of his plans. Aside from that, his most distinguishing characteristic is his birthmark, which is droned on about constantly for minimal effect. I suppose Green felt he needed some reason for Sulla to feel unfairly disadvantaged his whole life, but I’d have thought his background (an aristocratic family reduced to living in a slum) explained this better than a fictitious birthmark. His family background here seemed unhappy enough to justify his discontent. As to the secondary characters, there’s very little growth to be had. Marius is a hick, Lucullus is a patrician idealist, Drusus a reasonable revolutionary, etc. And they stay that way to the end with little to no development.
Part of my problem is undoubtedly the fact that I’ve been spoiled by Colleen McCullough’s excellent Masters of Rome series and its brilliant depiction of Marius and Sulla. It’s not entirely fair to make this comparison. McCullough had three novels to develop Sulla as a character while Green’s single book is maybe a third the length of just one of them. But her Sulla was such a richly drawn and even likable bastard right from the get-go, and his relationship with Marius such a tragic kick in the teeth, that it’s hard not to miss the emotional complexity that defined them. Heck, I’d have taken Richard Harris’ deliciously wicked Sulla from the Julius Caesar miniseries over this. Though very different, they both have a zest for life and theatrical streak that makes him infinitely more appealing than this sad sack.
Sulla does at least get better with time. Once he becomes the leader in events his personality starts to bloom as his cynicism and idealism starts to clash. He even becomes somewhat funny in his way, as his realist approach to politics collides with the pleasant lies most people believe. His sheer audacity is fun to play with. And he actually has his own doubts and failings to confront. This is what was lacking in the first half. Sure, we get the elderly narrator commenting on his failures (an element that seems all but vanished in the second half) but without understanding the reason behind his regrets we have little to connect to. Young Sulla really needed to be more of a reprobate to make his insecurities and contradictions apparent. The conflict between the crass man who grew up loving the theater and other common pursuits and the proud aristocrat he always felt he should be is something that only shows up towards the end, and that in the conflict between pragmatism and idealism. Pragmatism always wins.
I do understand part of why the book struggles to engage. It’s difficult to write a story from the viewpoint of a man you’re supposed to disagree with, at least in part. His view of the situation is inherently unjust, but how can you know that unless you have access to an outside source? The compromises taken to provide some nuance, such as having Sulla ask and record conversations about the Gracchi with his slaves, seem artificial at best. He’s not overly concerned about being fair elsewhere, why here? This feels like a story that needed multiple POVs to work. At times I’m not sure whether we’re expected to agree with him or despise him, and while that could be seen as complexity and moral ambiguity, here I suspect it’s more a case of the options not being clear.
The book also has a very simplified Marxist view of the fall of the Republic. Everything bad revolves around the corruption caused by “capitalists”. Once money was brought into the system it all went to pieces as bribes and business interests took over. The big watershed moment Sulla recognizes is when “bankers” were given control of the courts. “Bankers” is used here to describe the entire equestrian class (only a tiny fraction of whom were actual bankers), but elsewhere it seems to mean publicani, who weren’t bankers but privatized tax collectors. At other times it means literal bankers, although they seem more closely akin to modern bankers than ancient ones, with their lines of government credit and lending policies. The term “banker” is used almost interchangeably with the word “burgher”. This German word (meaning cityfolk) usually refers to the wealthy bourgeoisie, a term which was, perhaps, deemed a step too far. It’s not really clear what Roman factions either group encompasses. Like a lot of Marxist historiography this basic economic conflict is a gross and binary oversimplification of a highly complicated set of relationships stuffed into a one-size-fits-all frame. Sulla, and I can’t believe I have to stress this, was not a socialist.
At the end of the day I just don’t think Peter Green has as much love for the Romans as he does for the Greeks. The man lived in Greece for years, only leaving when the military junta took over and made life there dangerous. He never displayed much interest in Italy. And it shows. Green seems to have an affection for odd men out; those who don’t really fit in with their peers. And that’s the center of his affection for Sulla. But it’s not matched with a similar affection for the Republic, which accounts for the somewhat bland approach he takes here. He just doesn’t have a great feel for it. We have no real indication of the nature of the class divides for example. He only mentions the equestrian (knight) order twice and uses patrician to refer to all aristocrats. Imagine my surprise to see him refer to patrician tribunes! For all the talk of corruption there’s nothing on patronage or patron-client relationships. We don’t really see how the Republic operated.
So while this book was not without merit I didn’t find it particularly engaging. It rushes through the interesting bits without much pause and doesn’t really feel like we’re going in-depth into either Sulla’s life or the late Republic. It does get better towards the end as the more memorable moments of Sulla’s life start to play out (the march on Rome, his war with Mithridates, his reign as dictator...) and he starts to display a more reckless personality, but by that point it seems a bit too late. Masters of Rome skips Sulla’s Mithraditic war and jumps straight to his return to Italy, so fans of those books clamoring to see what Sulla gets up to in Greece may find this filling in some of the gaps. Otherwise I’d recommend that people seek out those books instead. They tell Sulla’s story with more charm and drama.
June 13, 2015
Told in the first person by Sulla the Dictator, this shows you the rapid decay of the Roman Republic. You can smell the garlic and dirt of the City before the Emperors tried to tart the place up.
July 11, 2023
I really loved this book I say that about most books but you can just really appreciate the art of this book. Sulla is a complicated character that one can’t really like even if they can admire his skills as an emperor and later dictator.
He’s vindictive and exacting he returns every favour wether it be good or bad, there is some admirable value to this but mostly it’s pitiful how surely he holds on. It is almost sad how spiteful he is and how hard he holds a grudge. This book depicts his life and gives full colour to it; it was the life of an emperor. It’s fleshed out with victory and glory and his prosperity but at the heart it’s pitiful how wholly it is full with embarrassment, spite and inferiority. We must always feel Sulla’s insignificance and how easily forgotten he is by the nobility he so desperately wants to be but never is. It also asks some really interesting questions about morality eg:
- is it better to build in hate or destroy in idealism
- it doesn’t matter if people hate you as long as they fear you (I just think that’s so sad and void of passion and only contains obsession)
- and that you must know yourself
In whole I think it’s a genius piece of historical fiction and I would recommend it to anyone who loves the Romans and classical literature it’s a really well written, unique and underground classic. The plot is strong but we know how it will end eventually so it’s mostly driven by character and internal conflict and it has so many really well written themes tied to classical mythology
He’s vindictive and exacting he returns every favour wether it be good or bad, there is some admirable value to this but mostly it’s pitiful how surely he holds on. It is almost sad how spiteful he is and how hard he holds a grudge. This book depicts his life and gives full colour to it; it was the life of an emperor. It’s fleshed out with victory and glory and his prosperity but at the heart it’s pitiful how wholly it is full with embarrassment, spite and inferiority. We must always feel Sulla’s insignificance and how easily forgotten he is by the nobility he so desperately wants to be but never is. It also asks some really interesting questions about morality eg:
- is it better to build in hate or destroy in idealism
- it doesn’t matter if people hate you as long as they fear you (I just think that’s so sad and void of passion and only contains obsession)
- and that you must know yourself
In whole I think it’s a genius piece of historical fiction and I would recommend it to anyone who loves the Romans and classical literature it’s a really well written, unique and underground classic. The plot is strong but we know how it will end eventually so it’s mostly driven by character and internal conflict and it has so many really well written themes tied to classical mythology
Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews