**"Memoirs of Hadrian: A Captivating Exploration of a Life and a World"**

Reality may not be fully captured in books, yet truth can indeed exist within their pages, as is the case with Marguerite Yourcenar's "Memoirs of Hadrian." This remarkable work imagines the life and perspective of the Roman emperor Hadrian, drawing on a lifetime of research. The narrative is seamless, with Yourcenar's suppositions blending effortlessly with the historical record. It reads like an actual memoir, offering a profound exploration of a whole person rather than just a reimagining of incidents.

The book is divided into six parts, each offering a unique glimpse into Hadrian's life. In "ANIMULA VAGULA BLANDULA," Hadrian takes stock of himself at the end of his life, while the reader tries to make sense of the novel's idiosyncratic introduction. "VARIUS MULTIPLEX MULTIFORMIS" recounts Hadrian's early life, his relationships, and his loves, enchanting the reader and revealing a way of looking at the world. "TELLUS STABILITA" details Hadrian's accomplishments as emperor, though at times it can be a bit tedious. However, the section ends with a beautiful moment that redeems it.

"SAECULUM AUREUM" focuses on Hadrian's beloved youth Antinous, his death, and Hadrian's profound grief. This section is both passionate and delicate, offering a meditation on loss and the need to remember. "DISCIPLINA AUGUSTA" explores the autumn of Hadrian's reign, including a bitter uprising in Judea and his thoughts on religion. By this point, the reader feels a deep connection to Hadrian, as if he were a true friend. Finally, in "PATIENTIA," Hadrian wrestles with his sickness and longing for death, offering a poignant meditation on the end of life.

The author's ability to bring Hadrian to life is truly remarkable. She makes the reader feel as if they are living inside his head, experiencing his musings and recollections. The book challenges the reader's perspective and inspires meditation, making it a calming and soothing read. "Memoirs of Hadrian" is a brilliant work of literature, a thing of beauty that offers a unique window into the life and mind of a remarkable man.

ΑΡΙΣΤΟΥΡΓΗΜΑ!!!!

This word, ΑΡΙΣΤΟΥΡΓΗΜΑ, seems to carry a certain mystery and allure. It might refer to a remarkable creation, a masterpiece perhaps. It could be something that stands out for its quality, innovation, or beauty. Maybe it's a work of art, a scientific discovery, or a technological breakthrough. The possibilities are endless.

When we hear this word, it makes us wonder what kind of amazing thing it represents. It piques our curiosity and makes us want to know more. It could be the result of years of hard work, dedication, and creativity. It might have taken countless hours of research, experimentation, and refinement to bring it into existence.

Whatever ΑΡΙΣΤΟΥΡΓΗΜΑ is, it surely has the power to inspire and amaze us. It shows us what is possible when we push the boundaries of our imagination and strive for excellence. It reminds us that great things can be achieved through passion and perseverance. So, let's keep our eyes and ears open for this wonderful ΑΡΙΣΤΟΥΡΓΗΜΑ and see how it can change our world.

Just as Virginia Woolf's allegory of "Shakespeare's sister" in A Room of One's Own, I want to create an allegory where Marguerite Yourcenar represents female writers and Orhan Pamuk represents male writers. The reason I choose these two writers is that recently I have read a book by each of them that is nourished by historical events but is not a straightforward history book. Both have done incredible research on the subject they wrote about, worked meticulously, and written a novel with a profound mastery of their topics, also adding their own imagination and inventions.

Now let's come to the difference between them. Pamuk was so captivated by the research he did for My Name is Red and was so influenced by what he learned that while he wanted to tell us all of it, he sometimes forgot the plot, even the novel. Yourcenar, on the other hand, has, so to speak, put on a show of writing the memoirs from Hadrian's mouth. To be more precise, as I was reading the book, I was sometimes under the impression that the book was actually written by Hadrian. It was as if Yourcenar had not done research and written the memoirs from his mouth, but had found the memoirs, compiled them, and translated them into French. She did not put all the information she obtained as a result of all that research at the beginning of the book. Instead of being a slave to that knowledge, she enslaved the knowledge to herself. Throughout the book, all the historical information that accompanies us is not like the main character, but like the details in the life of the main character, placed in the background. Yourcenar understood so well that a person, even if he is an emperor, does not live only with this war, this agreement, that occupation, as if it were in a high school history book, and was able to convey it to the reader so successfully that it is impossible not to be amazed.

This is also the reason for giving place to the allegory I mentioned above. Yes, of course, all female writers and all male writers are not the same; but when looking at it in general, the difference between them is exactly this. This difference in detail, this difference in understanding, this difference in empathy, the difference in not being captivated by what they have learned, by their research... That's why we should be directed towards reading female writers instead of unconsciously being dragged from male writer to male writer. So as not to miss their beauties.

I should also note this: I praised it so much, but it is actually a bit difficult to read, because it is really a memoir. I never mean that it is boring, but the writer has established the balance of writing the memoirs of an old emperor so well that the text has never strayed into fiction. Therefore, it is not a fluent or exciting text. Of course, there are such beautiful comments on many topics, from very deep concepts to very simple events, but, but, I would recommend it to readers with the patience to say that it does not have to be fluent every time we read it.

No sé qué decir sobre esta obra salvo que amé cada palabra. Yourcenar ha cumplido una tarea colosal. She has managed to recreate the mind of a man who existed thousands of years ago and transform his life as a Roman emperor into something that could be the life of all of us. This is a man who read, who traveled, who loved and was loved, who suffered and who finally, sick and sensing the nearness of his death, stops to examine and judge his own life, just as we do along with him when reading this book.

"Pero de todos modos he llegado a la edad en que la vida, para cualquier hombre, es una derrota aceptada. Decir que mis días están contados no tiene sentido; así fue siempre; así es para todos. Pero la incertidumbre del lugar, de la hora y del modo, que nos impide distinguir con claridad ese fin hacia el cual avanzamos sin tregua, disminuye para mí a medida que la enfermedad mortal progresa".

"La palabra escrita me enseñó a escuchar la voz humana, un poco como las grandes actitudes inmóviles de las estatuas me enseñaron a apreciar los gestos. En cambio, y posteriormente, la vida me aclaró los libros".

"... El viajero encerrado en el enfermo para siempre sedentario se interesa por la muerte puesto que representa una partida. Esa fuerza que fui parece todavía capaz de instrumentar muchas otras vidas, de levantar mundos".

The words in this book seem to come alive, painting a vivid picture of a bygone era. We are drawn into the world of the emperor, sharing his joys, sorrows, and reflections. Yourcenar's writing is so细腻 that we can almost feel the emotions of the characters as if they were our own. It makes us think about our own lives, our choices, and our mortality. This is a truly remarkable work that will stay with us long after we have finished reading it.

“Humanitas, Felicitas, Libertas”

   “Humanitas, Felicitas, Libertas”

This enchanting and beautiful novel, translated by none other than Julio Cortázar, brings together in just a few pages a host of thought-provoking reflections on power, friendship, the passage of time, art, love, desire, death, and life. Although set in 2nd-century Rome, these themes remain just as relevant today. These are supposed memoirs intended to instruct and advise Marcus Aurelius, the emperor after the reign of Antoninus Pius, successor of Hadrian, three of the so-called Five Good Emperors along with their predecessors Nerva and Trajan.

   “Nada me explica: mis vicios y mis virtudes no bastan; mi felicidad vale algo más, pero a intervalos, sin continuidad, y sobre todo sin causa aceptable. Pero el espíritu humano siente repugnancia a aceptarse de las manos del azar, a no ser más que el producto pasajero de posibilidades que no están presididas por ningún dios, y sobre todo por él mismo”

The known facts about Hadrian depict him as a brilliant administrator, despite his pacifism, an experienced and skilled military man, an excellent strategist in relations with bordering peoples, a great traveler, tolerant of other cultures and creeds, a lover of the arts, versed in the philosophical movements of his time, and a fervent follower of Hellenic culture (“I have read almost everything that our historians, our poets, and even our storytellers have written”… those were different times). But, as the author herself says through the mouth of Hadrian: ”between me and the acts that constitute me there is an indefinable hiatus. The proof is that I constantly feel the need to think about them, explain them, justify them to myself”. A perception of that hiatus is what the author proposes to us in these pages.

   “Me sentía responsable de la belleza del mundo. Quería que las ciudades fueran espléndidas, ventiladas, regadas por aguas límpidas, pobladas por seres humanos cuyo cuerpo no se viera estropeado por las marcas de la miseria o la servidumbre, ni por la hinchazón de una riqueza grosera”

Yourcenar establishes beauty as the clearest ideal of Hadrian, a word that goes beyond mere aesthetic criteria, encompassing his purpose of providing a just life to his citizens, extending knowledge and culture, maintaining peace and security throughout his territory, promoting trade among peoples, and creating a world in which “philosophers had their place and so did dancers”.

   “Esta mañana pensé por primera vez que mi cuerpo, ese compañero fiel, ese amigo más seguro y mejor conocido que mi alma, no es más que un monstruo solapado que acabará por devorar a su amo”

But fundamentally, Yourcenar's Hadrian speaks to us about himself, starting with the fear and resignation with which he faces the rapid deterioration of his body (“Nailed to the beloved body like a crucified man to his cross”) and the pleasures to which he must gradually renounce, placing love above all else (“Of all our games, it is the only one that threatens to disrupt the soul, and the only one where the player necessarily abandons himself to the delirium of the body…” ) and sex (… then takes place the astonishing prodigy in which I see, more than a simple game of the flesh, an invasion of the flesh by the spirit”).

   “Veo allí mi naturaleza, ya compleja, formada por partes iguales de instinto y de cultura. Aquí y allá afloran los granitos de lo inevitable: por doquier, los desmoronamientos del azar. Trato de recorrer nuevamente mi vida en busca de su plan, seguir una vena de plomo o de oro, o el fluir de un río subterráneo, pero este plan ficticio no es más que una ilusión óptica del recuerdo”

Like any autobiographical text intended to be read, it is just as important to interpret well what is written explicitly as to capture what is implicit, something that Yourcenar presents to us in an elegant and intelligent way. Such is the case of the ambiguous guilt he feels for the death of his great love, Antinous, whom he took in as a favorite when he was an adolescent, without renouncing other occasional lovers with whom he even forced Antinous to share a bed despite the pain he felt from such humiliation (“Only once have I been an absolute master; and I was of only one being”). Of course, he does not take into account the many slaves in his service whom he forced to carry him in a litter all the way to the door of his occasional hosts so that they would not have to endure the inclement weather on the street while waiting. Also with a certain self-exculpatory ambiguity is the assassination of several of his political enemies, his thirst for power, his violent reactions with his collaborators and family members, or the relationship that he had, or rather did not have, with his wife, whom he married for convenience and with whom he hardly lived.

A theme that powerfully attracted my attention was that of religion. It must be taken into account that he himself was considered a god to whom miracles were attributed. As such, it is not surprising his skepticism towards any creed, especially when he himself established a cult in favor of his lover Antinous, who became “by the work of popular piety the support of the weak and the poor, the comforter of dead children”.

   “Ningún pueblo, salvo Israel, tiene la arrogancia de encerrar toda la verdad en los estrechos límites de una sola concepción divina, insultando así la multiplicidad del Dios que todo lo contiene; ningún otro dios ha inspirado a sus adoradores el desprecio y el odio hacia los que ruegan en altares diferentes”

Yourcenar attributes to Hadrian a special enmity towards Judaism (the only war during his reign was against the Jews) or, in general, towards any religion that imposed dogmas and erected itself as the only true one.

   “… temía por nuestras antiguas religiones, que no imponen al hombre el yugo de ningún dogma, se prestan a interpretaciones tan variadas como la naturaleza misma y dejan que los corazones austeros inventen si así les parece una moral más elevada, sin someter a las masas a preceptos demasiado estrictos que en seguida engendran la sujeción y la hipocresía”

However, it seems that human beings have a need to think that reality is more special than it really is. He believed in astrology and divination. Seeking answers, he often resorted to magical explanations, to the “fortuitous chatter of the birds, or towards the distant counterweight of the stars”.

   “… si el hombre, parcela del universo, está regido por las mismas leyes que presiden en el cielo, nada tiene de absurdo buscar allá arriba los temas de nuestras vidas, las frías simpatías que participan de nuestros triunfos y nuestros errores”

Regardless of the truth of everything told by the author, the novel, taken as fiction, is beautiful and profound and will delight the most demanding reader.

Pripovedna mreža je bačena.

Hadrijan, burdened with the measure, manages the narrative as he manages his own life: "I wanted to find that link that connects our will to fate, in which discipline helps nature instead of hindering it." The measure, as a classical ideal here, is distance, moderation, the right line (even) when distortion should occur. Above all, in Hadrijan's case, it implies a high degree of diplomatic narration. Certain truths cannot be shouted out loud, let alone written down. Therefore, the most problematic and, at the same time, the most intriguing places remain in the shadows and (or) obscured as much as it corresponds to the firmness of the memoiristic-patrician credit: "What the world knows about me, I discovered myself."

Stvaralačka mreža je zabačena.

Jursenar skillfully reconstructs a book that has not passed but all the signs are that it existed. To follow the writing from the laying of centuries, to bring the past to life as if it were here and now and not to succumb to the explanatory - that should be the necessity of a historically convincing novel. The impenetrability or slowness of the reading practice are important factors of such a pathos. It is not easy to enter any ancient text, and "Hadrijan's Memoirs" want and succeed in presenting themselves as such a text.

Well, perhaps that Marguerite note about why the memoir rather than the diary is not satisfying (263), and it will not be that the reason is only that in thinking it omits the autobiographical. It is clear that the Roman emperor, as long as he is a man of action, has neither the time nor the need to keep a diary, more precisely to write**, but, behold, the diary did not exist, at least not in the form we attribute to it today. [If a valid counter-example is also found, I will hide behind the fact that I know very little about antiquity. I believe that literacy, on the other hand, was a privilege of the class while autobiographical writing was a consequence of size and expected importance.***] It will rather be that the memoir is chosen so that something personal can be silenced, omitted, disbelieved, that is, as a verification that "what is important is not recorded in official biographies, nor is it written on tombs[...]".

Well, perhaps the above answer is not satisfying, but there is no predominant immanent connection with the novel. The creative network is skillfully thrown, because right in front of the objection of the pack: "This letter, which I started to inform you about the progress of my illness, has become the reasoning of a man who no longer has enough energy to deal with state affairs for a long time, the written thoughts of a sick person who has received his memories in an audience. Now I have even decided to go further: I intend to tell you my life."

"Memoirs" are clearly an epitaph, words (engraved) before the anticipation of death. Hadrijan believes in the eternity of stone, in its potential, in telos, or, more suggestively, without it he is afraid: "When I look at my life, I am horrified when I see formlessness." From that ideal will follow the impression that a full life as it is presented to us here (only) turns into marble. Because, marble endures.

On the other hand, it seems that I, as the essence of the historical novel, first take that in the eyes of the most skillfully thrown network, life is caught and held. Marble can also be missing.

*This novel is, in a way, distant from the postmodernist one, as can be read here and there in the presentations.

**"It will be drunk with life and will not think of death; it does not exist; it denies it with every movement of its own."

***If my memory does not deceive me, Ransijer emphasizes the importance of "War and Peace" as a historical novel that brings the little man to the stage; "Memoirs" are, once again, a patrician garment for a patrician addressee, and, in addition, Hristić says: "He is the Roman emperor so that as a man he could be more happily unhappy and more nobly defeated."

Nunca la historia de una vida ha sido escrita, autobiográficamente… 1800 años después de la propia existencia.

Tal es el caso de esas Memorias, del emperador Adriano, escritas por éste, a través del genio y la pluma de Marguerite Yourcenar. La polifacética y multinacional autora, no contenta con que las memorias verdaderas, escritas 1800 años atrás, se hubieran perdido para la historia, se decidió a contarlas desde la primera persona del propio emperador.

Es como una larga epístola capitulada, dirigida a su nieto adoptivo Marco Aurelio, futuro César también de la dinastía Ulpo-Aelia del siglo II D. C., época de mayor auge del Imperio Romano. En aquel momento, el Imperio alcanzó su mayor geografía. Adriano, un emperador filósofo y un gran constructor, habla a otro que se convertirá en igual de docto y gran forjador.

Le insufla de su pensamiento las bondades y flaquezas de la filosofía estoica, así como de la epicúrea. También le cuenta (y nos cuenta) acerca de su mundo, sus conquistas, y el sentido mismo de la vida de un hombre solo o de un imperio que aspira a la expansión de una civilización superior. Ponderando la Paz como uno de sus más preciadas conquistas.

Además, le cuenta (y nos cuenta) tanto acerca de sus experiencias como de sus dudas, y también de su devoción amorosa y sexual por su amante Antínoo, a quien deificara tras su muerte.

Y así, la Yourcenar, admirablemente pertrechada de una documentación e inspiración que acopió por más de diez años, se atreve a pintar el enorme fresco detallado de este mundo antiguo, precursor del nuestro. Novelando la vida del césar Adriano.

El emperador no habría entendido nunca, ni de tan erudito, el significado de homofobia. Pero Marguerite Yourcenar sí. En los homofóbicos años 1950s, hizo que Adriano proyectara su voz hacia delante, y, como su Imperio Romano ayer, ésta resonó tanto en sus días, que ha llegado retumbando hasta nosotros, los habitantes del siglo XXI.

30 years of research that led to a book which is a "milestone" in world literature! The reading of it is an absolute delight...

For three decades, dedicated scholars and researchers have delved deep into the vast realm of literature. Their unwavering commitment and tireless efforts have culminated in the creation of a remarkable book that has now become a significant landmark in the global literary landscape. This book is not just a compilation of words but a treasure trove of knowledge, insights, and emotions.

As one embarks on the journey of reading this book, it is like opening a door to a whole new world. The pages are filled with captivating stories, thought-provoking ideas, and beautiful prose that draw the reader in and keep them engaged from start to finish. The author's masterful use of language and ability to create vivid images in the reader's mind make the reading experience truly unforgettable.

It is no wonder that this book has received widespread acclaim and has become a favorite among readers of all ages and backgrounds. Whether you are a literature enthusiast or simply looking for a good read, this book is sure to satisfy your cravings and leave you with a sense of wonder and appreciation for the power of words.

In conclusion, the 30 years of research that went into the making of this book have truly paid off. It is a testament to the perseverance and passion of the researchers and a gift to the world of literature. So, pick up a copy of this book today and embark on a literary adventure that you will never forget!

Dear Marcus Aurelius,

I have just returned from seeing my physician Hermogenes, and I thought it would be a good time to write to you and share some of my thoughts and reflections on my life.

From my humble beginnings in Spain, through my years in the army and the start of my political career, to my ascent to power and the many successes I have achieved, my life has been a remarkable journey. I have always been passionate about art and Greek culture, and these interests have influenced my policies and decisions as emperor.

I remember the day I met Antinous, my great love. His loss was a great grief to me, but it also taught me much about love and loss. And now, in my old age, as I approach death, I look back on my life with a sense of pride and satisfaction.

Of course, I know that I have not been without my critics. Some have accused me of being too determined to maintain the status quo and the systems that brought me to power. But I believe that these systems were necessary to keep the empire and its colonies intact, even if it meant going to war at times, as we did with Jerusalem.

As I write this letter, I am reminded of the wonderful book that Marguerite Yourcenar has written about my life. She has done an excellent job of reconstructing the world in which I lived, and her self-portrait of me is both accurate and moving. I am truly impressed by her work.

The photographs she has selected and the reflections on composition and bibliography notes all add to the wonderful reading experience. And the English translation by Grace Fick is also very good. I am grateful to both of them for their efforts.

Well, Marcus Aurelius, I must end this letter now. I hope that you will find my words of interest and that they will help you in your own life and career.

Your affectionate grandfather,

Hadrian

Ecco l’Uomo che dà udienza ai ricordi.

Finally, I have read it: a final touch to end my year of readings.

The first book I read in 2018 was "L'anno mille 993" by Saramago (a symbolic dystopia), and I conclude with an ode to classicism.

I learned to love M.Y with "L’opera al nero", and now, reading these imperial memories, I find that (even though they are travels in different spaces and times) there is a single and fundamental point on which the author focuses: the human soul.

Not the religious soul but that core, that "I" that reflects by mirroring itself in History and Humanity.

M.Y. was an erudite writer capable of reworking the great scenarios of History not starting from great events but from physicality.

The incipit - the business card of every work - clearly communicates all this to us:

”Mio caro Marco,

Sono andato stamattina dal mio medico, Ermogene, recentemente rientrato in Villa da un lungo viaggio in Asia. Bisognava che mi visitasse a digiuno ed eravamo d'accordo per incontrarci di primo mattino. Ho deposto mantello e tunica; mi sono adagiato sul letto. Ti risparmio particolari che sarebbero altrettanto sgradevoli per te quanto lo sono per me, e la descrizione del corpo d'un uomo che s'inoltra negli anni ed è vicino a morire di un'idropisia del cuore.”

Illness, then, and the approach of death make one prepare to say goodbye to life through memory.

The first step consists in taking stock of what the body formerly allowed and now denies.

Adrian's passions were many: hunting, riding, swimming, making love, and also sleeping.

Physical actions compromised by illness and advancing age. Adrian, in fact, writes these memories at the age of 60.

Studying oneself, observing men, and resorting to books: these are the three tools that Adrian indicates as necessary to evaluate human existence. But if the first is laborious and the second gives us a partial perception, it is precisely the books that often betray the most, precisely because of the characteristic of eluding reality:

”Mi troverei molto male in un mondo senza libri, ma non è li che si trova la realtà, dato che non vi è per intero.”

So begins this journey into memory that intends to take leave but also advise the young emperor Marcus Aurelius.

The army, the barbarians, traveling, the arts, Trajan, Hellenism, intrigues, the unhappy marriage, and then Antinous, the boy from Bithynia, and astrology, the secret cults.

Adrian has a precise objective: that of putting order into Chaos.

Taking control of the civil and moral disorder, inside and outside Rome, will become the main task.

But another disorder will stop him because precisely during the Jewish revolt, the body will send its message:

”Per tutta la vita, mi sono fidato della saggezza del mio corpo; ho cercato di assaporare con criterio le sensazioni che questo amico mi procurava; devo a me stesso d'apprezzarne anche le ultime. Non respingo più quest'agonia fatta per me, questa fine lentamente elaborata dal fondo delle mie arterie, forse ereditata da un antenato, preparata poco a poco da ciascuno dei miei atti nel corso della mia vita.

L'ora dell'impazienza è passata; al punto in cui sono, la disperazione sarebbe di cattivo gusto tanto quanto la speranza. Ho rinunciato a precipitare la mia morte.”

Entering death with open eyes: this is the great message.

When I first came across the excellent and lyrical GR reviews of this novel, I was immediately drawn in. The book seemed to be tailor-made for me. However, now that I've finally finished reading it, I'm not so sure. In the early pages, I had my doubts, but I continued on because the writing was so superb. Also, I was reading with a group, and the daily page requirements were very manageable. Having a schedule really helps, especially for a book that I might otherwise put aside for later.

In the beginning, I felt as if I was reading an advice piece, or self-help book, as one of the reading participants put it. Aphorisms aren't really my thing, but this was only at the start. Even so, the writing was beautiful and full of insights. The novel is written in the form of a letter to Hadrian's successor, Marcus Aurelius. But I never really believed in the book-as-letter concept, unless Hadrian was writing it for posterity, which didn't seem to be the case.

Although you don't need to be a student of Roman history to enjoy this book, it would have been helpful for me. Especially when Hadrian was going through his accomplishments or referring to the past. Successful historical novels are said to handle their historical details lightly, and I found this to be both true and not true of this work.
The writing is so good that at times I really felt like it was Hadrian writing. But at other times, I was pulled out of his head, knowing that it was Yourcenar's. This was especially true with the predictions and foreshadowing. Although that's also unfair, as Hadrian was a student of history and could see trends just as well as historians today. The ending was especially beautiful, but I know I didn't get as much out of the whole as others in the group did.
Intriguing and perceptive notes can be found in Yourcenar's Reflections on the Composition... at the end of the book. Some of these I really enjoyed and stopped to reflect on. With some of them, I felt like my failures as a reader were being targeted. For example, "The utter fatuity of those who say to you, 'By Hadrian you mean yourself!'" I would never say that to her, but I'm guilty of thinking it. But don't mind me: I'm a barbarian.

Overall, this was a thought-provoking and beautifully written book, but it wasn't quite what I was expecting.

L’imperatore Adriano è malato. He knows that he will soon die.

Just as the traveler navigating among the islands of the Archipelago sees the luminous vapors rise at night and gradually discovers the outline of the coast, so he begins to glimpse the profile of death.

He turns his gaze backward and prepares for a retrospective on his life and his reign in the form of a memorial.

He has been one of the most beloved emperors. Spanish by birth, Roman by adoption but Greek by nature because

almost all that is best said by men has been said in Greek.

Forced to govern the empire in Latin, he will never succeed in loving Rome with all its pomp and intrigues, and his chosen land will always be Athens.

A great enthusiast of military strategy learned on the fields of Dacia; as a young soldier on those infinite frontiers of the West Asia, he will be strongly affected by the fascination of the unknown barbarians, the impalpable and elusive enemy, like a Giovanni Drogo from the top of his fortress.

Then, as the supreme head of the army, he will try, as far as possible, to avoid wars only as a last resort, always working more for a peace aimed at strengthening the borders of a kingdom that has become unmanageable rather than expanding it outward.

A highly cultivated man, he confides to his memories that his first homeland has been the books that have helped him understand life better than anything else, although with the passing of the years, it will be life itself that will clarify the meaning of the books because in them we will never find the whole reality.

A lover of beauty, but never of its ostentation. A cold consort of a cold consort, but seized by homoerotic passion for a very beautiful young man from Bithynia with the evocative name of Antinoo who died prematurely and accidentally. For him, his lover and beloved emperor will tear a constellation from the sky and give it his name.

A passionate emperor, but also so rational as to affirm

I am not entirely sure that knowing love is more intoxicating than discovering poetry.

Yourcenar slips into the mind of a man who lived almost 19 centuries ago and returns him to us readers as if he were a man of today who, like yesterday, does not stop dialoguing with his own demons, those demons with which everyone must continuously confront, fearing them or trying to resist them so as not to yield prostrate.

An emperor so modern, far-sighted for his times, in whose presence the emperors of today seem ancient and less wise.

When a book is excellent in every aspect, subject matter, prose, depth, when the substance coincides with the form exactly as in a male-female joint system of a parquet board, there is only silence left, because in the face of beauty, we remain mute, we can only admire it. Pages of an unheard-of beauty.