The Twelve Caesars
- Jun 13, 2016
- 1 min read
★★★☆☆
History. Biography. Exposé. Suetonius’s The Twelve Caesars is all of these, but because of its curious (and, I think, disserving) format—topical rather than chronological; more laundry list than narrative—is best described as “Wikipedic.” So, at times fascinating and frequently illuminating, it was also, at other times, as enjoyable to read as any baking recipe.
Curiously, I am reminded of the excitement and anticipation I had when I was finally able to take abnormal psychology—my chosen discipline within the field, before I abandoned it altogether, that is—only to wind up with one of the worst professors of my college career, Dr. “Monotone” Miller, who looked like a 1970s Jesus with his long, permed hair; gold-framed Ray-Bans (yes, sunglasses in the lecture hall); velour tracksuits with the jacket unzipped to reveal a carpet of chest hair; and vintage suede sneakers (what we might have called “buddies” then), and who managed to suck the life out of not just out of a most fascinating subject, but of the room and everyone in it.
But I digress.
While I can’t say I regret reading The Twelve Caesars, after the highs that were SPQR: A History of Ancient Rome and I, Claudius, it did kill a certain buzz I had on the topic. I’m glad I read it, but may have been better served starting here and then moving on to the other books. On the other hand, if I hadn’t started elsewhere, I may never have gotten here. A befitting conundrum, then.
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