“It is in Latin that I have administered the empire; my epitaph will be carved in Latin on the walls of my mausoleum beside the Tiber; but it is in Greek that I shall have thought and lived.”
“‘Just when the gods had ceased to be, and the Christ had not yet come, there was a unique moment in history, between Cicero and Marcus Aurelius, when man stood alone.’”
Hadrian has always been one of my favorite Roman emperors, so a big thank you to a dear friend for choosing this for my Yule book exchange! It was a well-timed choice, as this book has been on my TBR since… 2012. I am glad I read this now and not a decade earlier, though; like Yourcenar writes in her postscript, this book requires a certain maturity of perspective to appreciate. I definitely have gotten more out of it now than I would have if I read it as a teenager. Yes, this is a fictional collection of memoirs from Hadrian’s perspective, but Yourcenar has masterfully imbued it with all sorts of complex thoughts and meanings that will take me a lot of time to digest and fully appreciate. Perhaps I should even re-read this in a decade or two.First of all, major kudos to Yourcenar’s prose and another to Grace Frick’s powerful translation! I can’t even imagine what a powerful duo those two must have been. I hardly felt that I was reading a translation, such was the beauty of the language at times. For a while, in picking up this book, I was fully able to immerse myself in the 2nd century CE, there along with Hadrian. The style of the writing is told in snippets and anecdotes that don’t really follow any coherent structure, except perhaps vaguely chronological. At first, this made it hard to really get into the book, but once you do, it’s like spending time talking with an old friend—Hadrian’s words become tangible.The amount of detail that Yourcenar includes in this novel is astounding. Her research—and how long it must have taken, how many objects handled and sights seen!—is incredibly impressive. I daresay that most modern novelists scarcely approach a tenth of the efforts she put into this work. Having studied classics, a lot of Hadrian’s life wasn’t news to me, but even so I learned a lot of things just by reading this book. Yourcenar also skillfully includes ambiguities, rumors, and complete guesses in the narrative as appropriate—of course, not without reservations. All of these add up to make an entirely convincing narrative that places the reader squarely in Hadrian’s world. What’s not to love? I could stand there on the balcony with him, while he looks at the stars and muses about the eternity of Rome and the universe. She does also give Hadrian a prophetic voice at times, which takes care to be vague and unclear; but even so, these portents looking toward the future pushed me ever so slightly out of Hadrian’s time and forced me to consider him with modern eyes. It’s a testament to the writing that for most of the book I didn’t experience that, so it was strange when I was placed squarely back into my own time. But this is a minor quibble at best.On the surface, the memoirs are written from Hadrian’s perspective and addressed to a young Marcus Aurelius, another one of my favorites. I thought it was a clever way to frame the story—at this point, he has chosen his successor, Antoninus Pius, who is contractually obligated to adopt the young Marcus Aurelius and Lucius Verus, who will eventually be co-emperors. Marcus Aurelius was also a deeply philosophical and contemplative sort, so the decision to have Hadrian musing to him about his reflections on life, death, the universe—it was certainly a good choice. I also loved seeing the ‘side characters’, if you can call them that, in the novel, whether it was meeting Plotina or seeing Trajan’s slow decline towards his death or observing Hadrian watching Marcus Aurelius and Lucius Verus grow up. The side characters were sufficiently fleshed out and made personable by Yourcenar, which is hardly an easy feat; in the postscript, she says some figures were invented, but many were composed of various names and personae that we do know existed around Hadrian’s intimate circle. I am impressed at how much research material she had at her disposal in the 1950s, enough to paint this picture of Hadrian and more. I suppose it is usually the case that we have all the information we really need, but most people are not looking in the right places or giving enough attention to get at these complex insights.Thus far I’ve waxed on and on about how great the novel is and how masterful Yourcenar is; let there be no doubt about those two things. This novel is a modern classic and deserves to be more well known than it is among contemporary readers! I would also like to take a moment to reflect on Yourcenar’s reflections in writing the novel, though—I am grateful my edition had this postscript at the end. Yourcenar began the project between the ages of 20 and 25, which is incredibly impressive. I can’t imagine taking upon such an undertaking now, let alone thinking I’m capable. But of course, those early attempts weren’t satisfactory, and Yourcenar burned the drafts and forgot about it for a while; she had an on-and-off relationship with the project for a while, and WWII happened in between, but eventually after the war she got back to earnestly working on this project that would just not leave her alone. I’m very glad she did! I’m certainly no writer, but it feels like some writers are born to tell certain stories—no doubt Yourcenar was meant to write this one. Being able to witness her early struggles and feelings of insufficiency in writing this incredible work was almost as moving as the novel itself; it heightened my appreciation for her efforts all the more. Her descriptions of various sights and objects as she researched for this novel were also intriguing; I do so wish to go back to Italy and explore more of these places someday. It’s incredible how much we still have from that time—I remember feeling that sense of awe looking upon the Pantheon, which is one of my favorite buildings in Rome. When I came to the scene of Hadrian dedicating it in the novel, it was immediately touching and brought me back to that moment. The Pantheon has no doubt undergone a lot of change, but we can still see Marcus Agrippa’s inscription out front and see the classic ocular dome—it’s a marvel, and I’ll never tire of it.I’m starting to wax on and reminisce now myself, so it’s time for this review to come to an end… in short, this is a fantastic book, and I’m glad I took the time to really savor it and spend these past few weeks with Hadrian. I would heartily recommend this book to anyone who has a love and appreciation for the classics, Hadrian, ancient monuments, or really, anyone who enjoys thoughtful contemplation.
