Con este libro confirmé una vez más lo mucho que me gusta la novela histórica. Excelente relato. Muy interesante ver la pugna entre Jesus y Zeus comandada por Juliano, sobrino de quien legalizó el cristianismo en el siglo III.

Gore Vidal is a novelist with an agenda. Born in West Point, related to former vice presidents Aaron Burr and Al Gore and member of a prominent political family, Gore is credited with the first openly homosexual novel in American letters, the espousal of views generally to the left of the Democratic Party and general iconoclasm. He is also a decent historian and humorous socio-political essayist.

Julian is one of his historical novels, a defense of the last of the avowedly non-Christian emperors and of the best of the Hellenistic and Roman cultures which he is constructed to represent. The research behind the book is good, albeit tendentious. "Atheism", by which the ancients meant Christianity and its rejection of the gods, does not come across well.

A cualquier lector al que le gusten las novelas históricas le recomiendo sin duda leer este libro. A veces nos hacemos unas ideas preconcebidas que no tienen nada que ver con la realidad. Había pasado por mis manos este libro en varias ocasiones y siempre lo había dejado apartado por la absurda creencia que presuponía que su autor no me iba a gustar pensando que iba a tener un estilo de escritura "demasiado académico" craso error por mi parte. Al final decidí darle una oportunidad y al menos iniciar la lectura para ver que me parecía . Me he encontrado con un libro maravilloso escrito de forma brillante por Gore Vidal en el que da vida y luz a un emperador no muy conocido ya que como ocurre tantas veces en la historia los perdedores siempre son olvidados. Juliano fue sobrino de Constantino el grande este si muy conocido por ser el que hizo religión oficial al cristianismo. Juliano intentó revertir esta situación cuando alcanzó el poder y volver a imponer al helenismo como religión principal pero su intento fracasó y esto ha echo que su figura quedara sepultada por la historia. El libro está escrito a 3 voces narrativas en las figuras de Juliano y de los filosofos Prisco y Libanio que sirven de contrapunto al emperador y hacen muy amena la narración. Sin duda este libro tiene muchos puntos en común con Yo Claudio por la semenjanza en la vida de los dos emperadores protagonistas pero a mi este me parece mas accesible en su lectura que el de Graves. El primer 5 estrellas de este 2017 en mis lecturas.

The historical emperor Julian (known as the Apostate) is a very tempting subject for a simplistic story: the last Pagan emperor of Rome, who had great plans for steering the Empire away from Christianity and back towards its classical, Hellenistic and philosophical path — but who died before his plans could take place, on the battlefield, against the Roman and Greek ancestral enemy. Many Christians have celebrated his defeat, and many modern atheists have sighed at the thought of what could have been.

Vidal doesn't deal in such simple terms. The truth is that, by the time of Julian's reign, the changes he dreaded had already taken place — especially in the eastern part of the Empire (the greater and more important in all possible ways) — but that in itself was hard to understand and much harder to accept. So this isn't so much the story of a brave champion of ancient values, or of a heathen trying to set his kingdom off course. Rather, the book brings the reader to better understand the strange contradictions of a rapidly changing civilization, even if the protagonist himself seldom does.

In the chapters told from Julian's perspective, we see him frequently bring up two other great rulers as those he seeks to emulate: Alexander and Hadrian, the conqueror and the ‘greekling’. While he dreams of a long rule juggling both roles, the ill-fated Persian campaign ensures that we only see a glimpse of that conquering side — though, in a way, Julian's obsessive drive for unconditional surrender against all better judgement gets him closer to Alexander than even he would have admitted.

The comparison with Hadrian is more interesting to me, not only because Marguerite Yourcenar's Memoirs of Hadrian left me with a deep sympathy for that past emperor. More to the point, his influence is more evenly felt on Julian throughout his life (even in his continued uphill battle to bring the beard back into fashion). But apart from an intense interest in classical Greek culture, Hadrian and Julian couldn't be more different:

Hadrian is perhaps best known today for the wall protecting the Roman province of Britain, to this day (and at the time) a powerful symbol of the acknowledgment of the limits of Empire. He knew Rome couldn't expand forever, and needed fixed and defensible borders; and he was the great traveler-emperor, who knew how hard it was for Imperial power reach the edges of his domain and made sure to bring it there himself. Julian, on the other hand, Julian laid out major, society-wide reforms on a bundle of letters and expected them to be put into place while he left for a remote war of conquest, with the simple goal of annexing all of Persia.

Most of all, Hadrian strikes me as keenly aware of his time, and that's why we think of him as a great ruler. He knew his civilization was at a high point, and worked to keep it there without pushing it further — or, to be more melancholic, to soften its way down. Julian seems comparatively naïve. He dismisses the changes Christianity was bringing to Roman civilization, and when he encounters crumbling institutions from the decaying classical age — and sees how different they look from what he read in his books —, he believes he can stop the trends of history and restore them simply through the power of his rule.

Julian is a truly human character: he's enthusiastic, proud, stubborn, a bit gullible and strongly committed to his worldview and values regardless of the obstacles he finds in defending them. While Vidal's portrayal strips him of the heroic or demonic status some may ascribe, it brings out the deep sympathy in understanding the character as a real person, struggling to come to terms with a surreal world. Julian is not Alexander, nor Hadrian; in his virtues and flaws, he reminds me much more of Don Quixote.

A friend recommended this book, as "the best of Gore Vidal". Historical fiction about Julian, emperor of Rome from 361 until 363. Hardly something up my alley. But, dutiful friend that I am, I got it at the library, and plunged in. Parts were a slog; the novel was 500 pages. Gore Vidal did his research but also brought the novel to a climatic ending. Julian wanted to bring the Roman Empire back to the worship of the Hellenic gods; he was a proponent of religious freedom. But his reign was too short to dislodge the "Galileans", the Christians who were firmly installed by Constantine. Still, Julian was portrayed sympathetically.

This is a tough one to review. I'll start with what I liked.

Firstly, I love the intriguing and genuine idea of this novel. Vidal's attention to detail is superb and his writing does the setting justice. His prose is adequate, if not a little flat and matter-of-fact. At the end of the day this is a historical fiction story, albeit leaning more on the 'historical' side.

The first third of the novel, the section that outlines Julian's life as a child and exiled pocket-prince, is rather fascinating. I really enioyed the perspective of the every day lives of Roman citizenry, glimpses of culture and the overall minutia.

The second section is considerably less interesting. It outlines Julian's assignment to fighting in Gaul as Caesar. For some reason Vidal chooses to completley ignore any details in regards to battles or warfare; which, considering the character and time period, does this book a considerable disservice. Add to the fact that nearly half of the dialogue in this section is back and forth banter between Priscus and Libanius and it is very much a missed opportunity.

That brings me to the point of the dialogue inserts of Priscus and Libanius themselves; they are tedious. Amusing at first, but quickly irritating. Priscus is always the know-it-all devil's advocate, and Libianus his boring critic. At times I felt this commentary was supposed to be some type of comic relief. It does not work well. Unfortunately their inserts are roughly a third of the entire novel.

Finally the last section. Here we find Julian as Augustus along with his struggles, anguish and turmoil of reigning over a thoroughly Christianized empire. To me this was the main reason I was so excited to read this...the conflict between rising Christianity, fading Hellenism and Julian's part in it. Suffice to say, this literary premise was more or less a gimmick. All the reader really gets is Emperor Julian's personal insights into the matter which, as any casual historian can tell you, are quite obvious.

Perhaps I was expecting too much from this novel, or maybe I simply wanted more fictional creativity instead of dramatic historical presentation. All I can say is that 'Julian' was a disappointment for me. However, for those less acclimated with the setting, I think there is some enjoyment to be found and certainly some knowledge to be gained.

Oh, that was great. This book is vivid, satisfying, rich and textured. And never boring! I was worried. But it's perfect. I think it's like Rashomon or Groundhog Day are perfect films; this is a flawless book.

Set in the 4th century CE, this is a biography of Julian (AKA Julian the Apostate), the (last) Roman Emperor who believed in the Olympian gods and rejected Christianity. I had never heard of him, but now I think - what a hero! What a story! Basically, 4th century CE Roman Empire was a tumultuous time on the brink of disaster. The story is told via three perspectives: Julian himself, as well as two of his former philosophy teachers, Priscus and Libanius. Together, all three recount the life of Julian - through letters, diary entries, marginalia and notes to self. We watch as Julian - enthusiastic, nerdy, idealistic - survives the dangers of an Imperial childhood (royal families tending to murder each other), becomes Emperor, pushes back the German tribes, secures Gauls, tries to get everyone onboard with a Hellenistic revival via loooots of clumsy, gory sacrifices to various Olympian gods, tries to conquer Persia, almost succeeds and, well, dies. It's not a spoiler. It's 1,600+ years ago!

What surprised me about this book - and made it so lovable - is that it BROUGHT HISTORY TO TACTILE LIFE. The people were real people. They gossiped, farted, got annoyed, forgot things, were clumsy, were ambitious, complained about bugs. The politics felt immediate; the philosophy - especially the clear-eyed (and very critical) portrayal of an early, ambitious, havoc-wreaking Christianity - felt urgent. Gore Vidal makes it supremely easy to connect there to here - AND he makes it supremely easy to see ourselves there. You understand exactly why some people are Christians, some people refuse to be, and so on.

This Late Classical period - so perilously close to the Dark Ages - feels tragic. Julian and his philosopher bros know they're at the end of "their" history - the history that matters to them. Christianity is quickly destroying the old world. Their future is dark. I was watching this Khan Academy video about the early Renaissance, and - just seeing the timeline of Classical Period -> Dark Ages -> Renaissance -> Modernism was a SHOCK. The Dark Ages last a THOUSAND YEARS. The Renaissance was a blip. Then it's immediately the Enlightenment, Scientific Revolution, industrialization, and then the horrors of the 20th century. Like: I'm surprised both by how much separates me from Julian, and by how little. The richness of the story is made EXTRA BUTTERY RICH by the knowledge that I, as a modern reader sitting in 2018, have about What Happened Next.

In other words, it was a heaping slice of perfectly slaying historical fiction. HIGHLY recommend. This is the current contender of Best Read of 2018 for me.

I really wanted to give this 5 stars, but the author's personal biases tinge the work too much. You can feel the almost childish contempt he has for Christianity beyond reason. Whereas he goes out of his way to criticise it as being ridiculous and fantastical, equally does he excuse almost without realizing he's done so the equally fantastical notions that constitute Hellenism. The hatred the author nurses makes the work more black and white than it should have been, where the author himself is unwilling and unable to empathize with any of the Christian characters and paints them all with a black brush at all times, and goes out of his way to excuse everything Hellenists do. Unfortunately Gore Vidal was unable to overcome his own limitations of character and it has depressed the potential of the novel, cheapening the entire work with a certain meanness and hostility, like a toddler throwing a temper tantrum. Instead of being a work of survey or love or admiration it's reduced to being an attempt at childish mocking of a religion he never took the time to begin to understand. It's a real shame to see.

Julian is historical fiction masquerading as an posthumously annotated autobiography of Constantine's nephew (successor as emperor to elder cousin Constantius, circa 350 CE). In a way, Vidal makes his own critique on p. 436, writing, “Traditionally the reporting of speeches in historical texts is not meant to be literal…. Yet here is Julian… already altering the text. History is idle gossip about a happening whose truth is lost the instant it has taken place. I offer you this banality for what it is: the truth!” (Emphasis in the original.)

I find quotes like this to be striking in such twisted meta-contexts. This book's structure cannot be easily ignored. Here we have a twice-framed story (Vidal writing a novel in which two philosopher-contemporaries eulogize and discuss publication of journal and memoir material that they have copied but which are ultimately to be suppressed). Why do this? One possibility is that Vidal means for the reader to consider history critically, as a series of competing points of view which, like all claims for objective "truth," carries within itself the flaws of its recorders.

If so, Vidal really has fun with the conceit, breaking the fourth wall of his various frames repeatedly. For example, at page 158, after claiming to quote first Pindar (“Happy is he who, having seen these rights, goes below the hollow earth…”) and then Sophocles (‘Sophocles described initiates as “Thrice-happy mortals, who having seen those rites depart for Hades….”), Vidal as Julian coyly writes, “I quote from memory. (Note to secretary: Correct quotations, if they are wrong.)” Vidal wrote this (if one can believe the author's own mischievious valedictory which he places in lieu of his own character's dating at the bottom of the last page) between 1959 and 1964, a time long before readers could validate literary quotes through a simple web search.

Since this is the first Vidal book I've actually read, I don't know if the author is prone to this kind of thing. I selected this book to start with both because I enjoy Roman history and because a consensus of friends familiar with Vidal and various reviews has it that Julian is the best of his many works. It's not bad, humorous in spots, exciting in others, but fairly rambling throughout. If the "quest for truth" theme had been consistently and progressively explored (as it frequently is early on not only via the narrative structure but in ongoing antithesis of Christian theology and Platonic philosophy/Greek pantheism), the book might have cohered better. As it is, once Julian accedes (by virtual accident) to the throne and is then persuaded to become the next Alexander and conquer Persia, things go a bit awry.

Don't misunderstand my complaint. I know that this is a pseudo-autobiography, and that people's lives tend to be untidy collections of random events. However, with no unifying mystery (e.g., who killed Julian, which arises midway through the first third and then returns only at the end), theme (e.g., what is truth, which peppers the first half of the book), or argument (e.g., how should we in our era view religion, which crops up in the first half of the last third of the book), the story frequently drifts and repeats itself.

Vidal can sometimes use his character's voice to make stark observations, as at page 301, when newly-anointed emperor Julian soaks his closest advisers from his vast bath-pool and then immediately considers the sources of corruption:

“Then I was alarmed. In just this way are monsters born. First, the tyrant plays harmless games: splashes senators in the bath, serves wooden food to dinner guests, plays practical jokes; and no matter what he says and does, everyone laughs and flatters him, finds witty his most inane remarks. Then the small jokes begin to pall. One day he finds it amusing to rape another man’s wife, as the husband watches, or the husband as the wife looks on, or to torture them both, or to kill them. When the killing begins, the emperor is no longer a man but a beast, and we have had too many beasts already on the throne of the world.”

While this is no more than an illustrative way of citing the cliche that power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely, it was still fairly poignant.

Christian readers, even those without a fundamentalist bent, might find Vidal's hectoring through reformer/anti-Christian-crusader Julian a bit tough to take after awhile. A typical example of this occurs at page 86, where Vidal (quoting Julian quoting magician/Mithraist/charlatan/guru Maximus):

"The Christians wish to replace our beautiful legends with the police record of a reforming Jewish rabbi. Out of this unlikely material they hope to make a final synthesis of all the religions ever known. They now appropriate our feast days. They transform local deities into saints. They borrow from our mystery rites, particularly those of Mithras…. I betray no secret of Mithras when I tell you that we, too, partake of a symbolic meal, recalling the words of the prophet Zarathustra, who said to those who worshipped the One God – and Mithras, ‘He who eats of my body and drinks of my blood, so that he will be made one with me and I with him, the same shall not know salvation.’ That was spoken six centuries before the Nazarene.”

A little of this makes for fascinating historical context to Julian (the Apostate). A bit more of this threatens to become preachy. But unfortunately this book is so chock-full of Christian theological bashing, ridicule of 4th century Christian personal habits and corrupt practices, and self-acknowledged ad hominem attack (Christians are Galileans, churches are charnel houses, priests are greedy exploiters of their parishioners, etc.) that Vidal makes even an anti-religious sot like me start to feel sorry for them. I guess I'm more tolerant than I thought.

Ah, well. At the end of the day, I suppose the book Julian turns out to be good -- for its fourth century Roman history and attempt to explore the psychology of a ruler who had he lived a longer life, might have made our Western world a very different place. But it's not great, and great is what I was looking for. I suppose I'll come back to another work by Vidal later (before I knew any of his titles, my vague impression of Gore Vidal was as a Truman Capote-style sensationalist with great hair). However, as I've got a few things on my nightstand ahead, I see no need to rush.

Un libro que leí hace ya varios años y que he recordado recientemente, al leer las Memorias de Adriano.

Podría decirse que este libro tiene grandes similitudes con la famosa obra de Robert Graves, “Yo, Claudio”. En ambos casos se trata de la biografía novelada de un emperador romano, en ambos casos el texto está escrito en primera persona, como si de una autobiografía se tratara, y en ambos casos la rigurosidad del texto y del autor están ampliamente reconocidos. Las diferencias vienen dadas principalmente por la época y los hechos narrados.

La figura de Juliano, que personalmente desconocía, me ha resultado de lo más interesante, al haberse tratado de un emperador muy “peculiar”, si lo comparamos con la amplia mayoría de los que ejercieron el cargo a lo largo de los siglos. Nos encontramos aquí con un personaje culto, ilustrado, casi un filósofo, que pasó buena parte de su vida ajeno a las intrigas políticas y que, cuando de forma casi accidental accedió al cargo, intentó ser un buen dirigente para su pueblo. Lamentablemente, la jungla política no suele ser un lugar adecuado para este tipo de personas; Juliano terminó asesinado por los afines a la Iglesia, que veía amenazado el poder social y político que había conseguido en las últimas décadas, frente a las políticas laicas y de libertad de culto impulsadas por Juliano.

La novela también es interesante por el retrato de la época: estamos ya ante el inicio de la decadencia del imperio, se intuye muy próxima ya la división entre imperio de Oriente e imperio de Occidente, y el poder de la Iglesia dentro de Roma es cada vez mayor. Este es algo que siempre me ha interesado mucho, por su triste influencia: cómo el avance del cristianismo terminó con el esplendor cultural de la época antigua, cómo se pasó del mundo helenístico (del que era heredera Roma) amante de la ciencia y las artes, para progresar hacia la oscura Edad Media, siempre en nombre de una religión oscura y opresiva, empeñada en aplastar todo lo que no fuera “su fé”.

También es interesante, a nivel histórico, la recreación del nacimiento de la Iglesia moderna: las luchas de poder entre las diferentes sectas cristianas (a menudo, luchas a muerte), la definición (con sus discusiones internas también) de lo que debería ser la religión católica (inventándola sobre la marcha, queriendo desvincularla de su origen judío y añadiéndole elementos tomados de aquí y de allá). La verdad es que Gore Vidal ha trabajado bien tanto a nivel de documentación como de redacción para escribir este libro.

Por cierto, ya que mencionamos al autor, un par de curiosidades: fue primo de Jimmy Carter y de Al Gore, y el nombre con el que es conocido (Gore) no fue puesto por sus padres, sino por él mismo, tomando para ello el apellido materno. En realidad, nació como Eugene Luther Vidal, luego se añadió Gore como tercer nombre, y en la práctica sería este último el único que usaría, pasando a llamarse Gore Vidal. Fue varias veces candidato al Premio Nobel de Literatura.

En fin, para terminar: Juliano el apóstata es una novela histórica rigurosa, bien documentada y bien escrita, que nos permitirá descubrir a un emperador peculiar y un periodo histórico interesante, el del hundimiento del Imperio Romano como preludio a la llegada de la oscura Edad Media, y el nacimiento y ascenso de la Iglesia Católica. Muy recomendable si os atrae cualquiera de estos temas.

Interesting, but erred more on the side of historical accuracy than memorable characterisation.

I started reading this book to learn more about 3rd and 4th century Rome and its politics as research for Rav Hisda's Daughter, Book I: Apprentice: A Novel of Love, the Talmud, and Sorcery, since Persia and Rome are often at war. To my astonishment, I could not put this book down. Vidal is an amazing writer, one whose talent I could never hope to reach. He takes us right into the heart of his characters, historical figures all, and brings them & all the Roman political intrigue of his time to life.