The following is the inaugural review of The Last Word, a semi-regular column in The Times, in which I will be reviewing books, both fiction and non-fiction, for the reading public.

Many civilizations, and especially the Greco-Roman civilization, were great recorders of the written word. One of these works, The Annals of Imperial Rome by the historian Publius Cornelius Tacitus, concerns the period following the death of Augustus in A.D. 14, to the death of Nero in A.D. 68.
The text reviewed here is a superb English translation of the original Latin text by Cambridge professor Michael Grant. Although it strives valiantly to capture the essence and vitality of the original Latin, it still remains, like many English translations of the classical language, lacking. That being said, it is still easy to be swept up in the narrative and to catch glimpses of Tacitus’ famous wit throughout. Unfortunately, as with many other classical works, large segments of the text are missing, lost to history. This includes the latter days of the reign of Tiberius, the entire four-year reign of Caligula, and the opening years of the reign of Claudius. The overthrow and death of Nero (A.D. 68) are also missing, as the text breaks off in A.D. 66.
Tacitus was born in about A.D. 56 and died sometime after A.D. 117. A senator and famous orator, Tacitus survived the dark years under Domitian (A.D. 81-96), and served as consul in A.D. 97 under the emperor Trajan and later served as the governor of Western Anatolia, in present-day Asia.
Not a first-hand witness of the period he writes of, Tacitus wrote his Annals for future generations, and was well regarded as a skillful writer by his contemporaries. However, judged by modern standards, he would have been considered a poor historian. Tacitus is neither unswayed by rumour, conjecture or his own biases, and he is selective in his sources, while seemingly ignoring others using his own set of criteria, of which we have no knowledge. This tends to take away from the text, and leaves one vaguely suspicious of his motives. On the other hand, this would hardly have stood him apart from his classical contemporaries, who rarely strove for objectivity.
An example of this less-than-objective perspective is evident in the opening chapters, with Tacitus’ savage appraisal of the reign of Tiberius. He has little good to say about Augustus’ successor, documenting in fine detail the many atrocities and moral corruptions the emperor was responsible for, as well as the cheapening and abuse of the imperial system designed by Augustus to offer justice and stability in the face of pre-imperial republican chaos. This is a curious indictment, considering Tiberius’ reign was the farthest removed from Tacitus’ own lifetime, and of which he was likely to have the least reliable knowledge. Tacitus’ descriptive fervour is only marred by his passion for voluminous detail, as the text sometimes becomes bogged down with seemingly endless descriptions of vicious trials, retributions and executions, and the spineless sycophancy of the senate.
Where Tacitus’ undeniable brilliance is put on full display is in his account of the reign of the murderous Nero, whose extravagance and brutality bankrupted the empire and left future generations with a lasting example of the terrible consequences of unrestrained power placed in the hands of a moral degenerate. Tacitus’ descriptions of a spoiled and pampered child-man become ruler of the known world are a vivid window into Nero’s soul and motivations, and his ultimate downfall. Peppered throughout the text are withering criticisms of this morally-bereft individual, who when not murdering his own relations spent most days drunkenly engaged in outrageous entertainments that often involved grotesque blood sports and abberant sexual licentiousness.
Although following closely the succession struggles, murders and deaths of the Julio-Claudian dynasty, Tacitus also gives martial descriptions of the various wars and rebellions on the frontiers that seem to plague the entire history of Rome, proving the old adage that while conquest might be easy, control is often not. Tacitus explores in great detail the campaigns of Germanicus (the future emperor Caligula’s father) across the Rhine against various German tribes, and endless engagements between Rome and Parthia in the east over control of Armenia, that ill-fated crossroads of empires. A brief account of the rebellion of the Britons led by the legendary Queen Boudicca is one of the only surviving examples of this historical footnote, which saw native British tribesmen rise up against their tyrannical Roman overlords, only to go down to sure defeat at the hands of well-oiled Roman military muscle.
Taken as a whole, The Annals of Imperial Rome are not so cerebral as to be unintelligible to the modern reader, or one not acquainted with the history of the period. It remains a fascinating character study of the early absolute rulers of the empire, and give not a little credence to the idea that absolute power tends to corrupt absolutely. In The Annals, Tacitus proves he is one of the finest Latin authors and historians of his generation, while still writing of the period with a zest and vigour that has kept generations of readers captivated.