I give this novel my highest personal rating: it performs the extremely difficult task of making Cicero, a rather stuffy icon for 2 millennia, as accessible and as politically understandable as the national news in your local paper and to paint his turbulent times in a way anyone can identify with and understand. It is simply the best novel I’ve ever read, in terms of historical accuracy and intelligent reading of complex personalities, about the failing Roman Republic.

I have always had problems with Cicero. You have the “lawyer’s briefs,” his speeches and trials; you have the wonderful intimate, flawed, and somehow endearing correspondence in which Cicero proves he was far from able to navigate the complex political currents of his remarkable day; then you have his alliance with the Optimates, the rich nobles whose refusal to reform the Roman Republic made it, in part, possible for military strong-men like Pompey and Caesar to threaten and finally help destroy it.

Harris is simply superb. He uses Cicero’s actual slave, Tiro (famous as his closest assistant) as the narrator of the remarkable and tragic events of those final years. I’ve read enough of Cicero to feel that Harris has somehow internalized and channeled both his speeches and correspondence; the context is effortlessly painted. Harris’ comprehensive knowledge of Rome in the period roughly 70 BC is so meticulous that he makes it seem as easy to paint as an artist in a modern Chinatown. I’ve read enough of Harris’ earlier novels to know that he’s a fine plotter and draws clear characters. But I did not expect how he would recreated living men and women in a vanished time with such comfort and authenticity.

One of the great early trials that “made” Cicero’s name was his prosecution of the politically-connected noble, Verres, who had pillaged his Sicilian province. In reading of the preparation for and prosecution of this trial (which took real political courage, in view of the vested interests ranged against conviction), I can honestly say it reads like a thriller and its culmination is extraordinarily moving – all while following history meticulously. But Harris isn’t out to make Cicero a saint – we see (perhaps all too clearly, as parallels with modern politics spring easily to mind) just what it takes to claw your way up the Roman political tree, the kinds of compromises it requires, the kind of damage it can do to the man. Other legendary characters, like Julius Caesar, Pompey, and Crassus, are all swimming in the same political sea of sharks, and it is fascinating to see how Harris, arguably, sets them in the sea of a political system which is beginning to falter.

First in, I understand, a remarkable trilogy in which Cicero’s career is impacted by other giants – Pompey, Caesar, Crassus, Clodius, all unforgettably drawn – this book is unput-downable, remarkably effective in conveying us to an ancient world, thrillingly able to make the connections between ancient and modern times through the medium of a remarkable politician who would be equally at home, now, in Washington or Baghdad. You will not feel the same about Cicero, or ancient Rome, again.

For those of us at ADI with a special interest in Caesar, I must admit that Harris has taken some provocative but arguable steps, particularly in view of the opaque references in some sources to Caesar's political chicanery prior to the revolt of Catiline. But as Harris notes in his 'afteward,' he posits things that did happen, or may have happened - but I have found nothing in the novel which assuredly did NOT happen. Although quite inevitably, Cicero is the protagonist of this novel and Caesar naturally the man whose ambitions will bring down the Republic, Harris' sympathies are split between the two (which means I could read it without gritting my Caesarian teeth).