Tuesday, May 9, 2023

I, Claudius by Robert Graves

     This was such a cool book. My mom had grabbed the copy we had and left it on the coffee table, and when we lost power a few weeks ago, I grabbed it and started reading by candlelight. I was pulled in immediately by the tale of Claudius going before the oracle to hear his future. It is such a great idea for historical fiction, and much of the story is true, or at least is faithful to the histories told by Cassius Dio, Suetonius, and others. Claudius is also an incredibly compelling character as the first-person narrator. He became Emperor of Rome despite being "born prematurely, at only seven months, and then my foster-nurse's milk disagreed with me, so that my skin broke out in an ugly rash, and then I had malaria, and measles, which left me slightly deaf in one ear, and erysipelas, and colitis, and finally infantile paralysis, which shortened my left leg so that I was condemned to a permanent limp." These disabilities left Claudius as an outsider on the inside. He was present for the massive events of the Julio-Claudian era in Rome, but often not participating due to his exclusion; the "more important" dynasty members viewed him as inferior. But the fact that no one saw Claudius as important meant that no one saw Claudius as a threat, and he was able to live a far longer life than most Julio-Claudians, who tended to die young at the hands of political rivals, often their family members.

    There was some interesting commentary in the book on marriage and gender relations. Claudius recounts a conversation between two freedwomen about how little marriage was good for at that time in the Empire. Morals were so loose that adultery was common, and women were usually worse-off financially once married. Then, having children would be bad for a woman's health and then take up much of her time. Augustus was very concerned about the low birth rate in the aristocracy, and encouraged the highest class of Rome to have more children, since he believed that those of good stock would be better citizens. He even lectured the men and women of the upper-class about it. But ironically, Augustus only ever had one child, a daughter named Julia (who he later banished for adultery). I thought this was interesting and maybe something universal about how higher classes in many societies reproduce less. I don't know why this would be, but it seems to happen today in most prosperous countries. There was even a problem in Augustus's Rome with finding candidates for priesthood because priests had to be a married man born of a married couple, and by that time few people were practicing the "strict form" of marriage." Instead, they would often marry for political reasons and then women would stipulate that they may spend a certain number of nights outside their husband's house, or that they would not surrender themselves or their property, as a strict-form marriage would require. Eventually, Augustus started encouraging the aristocrats to marry off their children to one another before they were able to realize what they were agreeing to and object. That would result in more strict-form marriages.

    Another interesting theme in the book was the transition from Republic to Empire and the latent desire to restore the Republic. Claudius is one of those who longs to restore the Republic (at least as a character in Graves's book) and describes his father and brother, Germanicus, as wanting the same. But it was also unclear where the Republic ended and the Empire began. Even decades after the Empire "began," Claudius wrote that Tiberius always had to consult with the Senate. "But," writes Graves through Claudius, "the Senate had been voting according to direction for so long that they seemed to have lost the power of independent decision." Tiberius couldn't just mandate to the Senate, but he could hint at what he wanted. The equilibrium that they reached was that, to avoid appearance of tyranny, Tiberius would speak with "studied elegance" in favor of the motions he opposed and in opposition to the motions he favored. And then when he spoke briefly and without rhetoric, he meant his words to be taken literally. By this point, the legions were loyal to their commanders and their Emperor, not the Senate, so the Senate had little choice; but it was important for popular legitimacy that it still appear to be sovereign. But gadflies in the Senate could still mock the Emperor. Tiberius was bothered when the Senate continually praised his mother Livia (who was perceived to be the puppetmaster) alongside him, but he couldn't openly tell them to stop. So they kept doing it to annoy him, as "there was nothing that Tiberius hated so much as hearing Livia praised." 

    On the topic of Livia, I just need to say that she was the most interesting character of the book, even more so than Claudius. She is portrayed as the person who is really running things. At first, in secret during the reign of Augustus, and then as an open secret in the reign of her son, Tiberius. She lived well into her eighties, so she was very powerful with a long time, and was also influential in shaping the young Caligula. It is so interesting that she lived in such an overtly sexist society but was able to become so powerful. But she's not really an inspirational feminist story. At least as portrayed in I, Claudius, she is evil. She is behind countless murders, including members of her own family, such as her husband, Augustus, and many of Augustus's own blood relatives so that her progeny would rule Rome.

    Another big theme of the book is denunciation. Through the reigns of Tiberius and Caligula, their weak leadership and paranoia results in mass denunciations. Political rivals would denounce one another for profaning the deified Augusts's image or for treason against Tiberius or Caligula. It was of course, hard not to profane the image of Augustus, since it appeared on all coins, and therefore bringing a coin into the latrines with you could mean you're a criminal. Elites would accuse their enemies of capital offenses, which would result in them being executed and having their property seized in part by the Emperor and in part by the accuser. So there was much reason to accuse someone falsely and it became an epidemic. These denunciations had a major effect in transitioning the Republic to the Empire. They solidified the Empire because they not only enriched the Emperor, but divided the patrician class that would have served as the greatest check on the Emperor's power. The patricians weakened themselves by infighting, and by the end of Tiberius's reign, so many were dead that almost all the new elites owed their promotion to Tiberius, who then expected them to donate as much as half their estates to him in their wills. This kept him rich and the other elites weak. By the end of Caligula's reign and killings, it appears that there is no one left who remembers the Republican age or has any power not owed to the Emperor.

    I, Claudius, by the end, reads as a tragedy. It is a tale of so many deaths in the Julio-Claudian dynasty that it eventually amounts to dynastic death. Almost everyone dies by some violence, especially if you include being starved to death in prison or in banishment. It is also about the death of the Republic. Even though the book starts several years into what we would call the Empire, it mostly takes place in a time in which it still seemed possible to revive the Republic, but such things seem impossible by the end.

Miscellaneous:

  • I just thought this passage where Claudius describes his wife was funny:
    • Urgulanilla was – well, in brief, she lived up to her name, which is the Latin form of Herculanilla. A young female Hercules she indeed was. Though only fifteen years old, she was over six foot three inches in height and still growing, and broad and strong in proportion, with the largest feet and hands I have ever seen on any human being in my life with the single exception of the gigantic Parthian hostage who walked in a certain triumphal procession many years later. Her features were regular but heavy and she wore an almost perpetual scowl. She stooped. She talked as slowly as my uncle Tiberius (whom, by the way, she resembled closely – there was even talk of her being really his daughter). She had no learning, wit, accomplishments, or any endearing qualities. And it is strange, but the first thoughts that struck me when I saw her were: ‘This woman is capable of murder by violence’ and ‘I shall be very careful from the first to hide my repugnance to her, and give her no just cause to harbour resentment against me. For if once she comes to hate me, my life is not safe.’
  • This is another funny quote: "This was not sentiment but a medical precaution: there was so much venereal disease now in Rome--another fatal legacy, by the way of the Punic War." And then to start the next paragraph, "Here I wish to put it on record that I have never at any time of my life practised homosexuality."
  • Once Tiberius's great love, Vipsania, died, he no longer hid his "perversions," and is said to have engaged in lots of kinky stuff that would still be controversial in pretty accepting circles today, plus some stuff that is not acceptable in any time or place.

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