Why is Sir Edward Bulwer-Lytton not heralded as one of the greatest writers of the 19th century? A great poet, a great, politician, and a great man? A great philosopher, and historian who endeavoUred through the means of poetry, narrative and mental exploration of thought and metaphysics and historical forensics to better understand man, religious propensities, and theosophical motifs which have our permeated societal mien? There is no clear answer, except the indolence of the modern reader, who dares not pick up such a tome as this, nor any of his books for the matter.

The Last Days of Pompeii, appears at first to be a dense bit of prose, but in fact, is a fast read. The work is divided into five books with chapters in between. The chapters themselves are not lengthy and the pacing exquisite. Lytton has carefully amended throughout the text words which may not be familiar to the modern reader, or even his contemporaries, such as cubiculum or spoliarium, and provides us with an appendix which delineates further thoughts on Pompeii, the political and religious struggles of the time, and how uninterred cites have elucidated facts about that age and the people who lived then, and the great event of 79 AD.

The story opens with our main characters Glaucus, Clodius, Ione, her brother Apaecides and the blind girl Nydia. Glaucus and Clodius are boon companions and avid gamblers. Ione and Apaecides are wards of the Egyptian Magician Arbaces. Lytton then takes us into the world of the gladiators, the Pompeian baths (which he juxtaposes with the Grecian and Roman ones) laying out the class system including, slaves, freedmen, gladiators often fighting for their freedom, the priests of Isis, the wealthy and the Nazarenes.

Having lain the foundation, we are introduced slowly to the atheists, or Nazarenes, through the likes of Olinthus, and later Medon and his son Lydon (a gladiator) hoping to win his father's freedom in the arena. Apposed to this, is the scene when Apaecides seeks the counsel of Arbaces regarding the Priesthood and the rites to Isis. Arbaces admits that the rites to the goddess are all chicanery and that in truth he does not believe in a deity, but uses worship as a means to power and wealth. One might think after this that the Nazarene will come off better, for no sooner does Apaecides come under the thrall of Arbaces than he comes to talk with Olinthus who overturns what Arbaces has said and through incremental reasoning converts the young priest.

Lytton does not stop there but gives a more complete picture. He depicts how the Christians of the early era were so harsh and fervent in their creed that they demonized anyone who did not believe in their god, calling the pagans' gods demons and devils. Into this, entered the old man, Medon, Lydon's father who is of the softer shade of Christianity; he who seeks that higher love, which is later outlined through the words of Glaucus and in the appendix. That Lytton does not depreciate the pagans or the Christians but takes the middle road, seeking to understand both sides, through descriptions of the fervid and the moderate, speaks to his willingness to see a greater notion of spirituality which is devoid of sect or fervency, and which is wholly limned in love.

One does not want to give the game away, by telling the entire tale, but to say that when the final convulsion ensues, and his description of it is horrifyingly accurate and beautiful, the denouement does not disappoint. This is a volume worth reading not once, but many times through for its tinctures resonate simultaneously truth and love.

This guy is often cited as the writer of the worst English novel ever (Paul Clifford) but this one is actually fun to read. If you can get through other Victorian novels like Dickens, you can get through this.

An amazing historical-fiction novel, set out in a highly elaborate exquisite language.

A romantic historical novel inspired by a famous natural disaster in ancient times and archaeological evidence discovered in Pompeii, this novel was among the most popular works of literature in the nineteenth century though it’s now all but forgotten. ‘The Last Days of Pompeii’ is a love story set in that Roman town just before the famous eruption of Mount Vesuvius buried it and most of its citizens in ash. It draws a vivid portrait of the lifestyle of the Imperial Romans, their daily baths, symposia, and gladiatorial entertainments, their religious practices and their homes while presenting a busy plot full of decadent, diabolical seducers, religious fanatics, and glutinous parasites.

The novel is written in an archaic style which distances the drama while simultaneously giving it a kind of ancient dignity. A quote to illustrate: “My eyes loathe the sight of thee!” It’s halfway between Shakespeare and Robert Graves and while it is off putting at first it grows on you and you come to feel that this mannered style is appropriate for a novel about ancient Romans at the peak of their decadence, just hours before their fall. The novel includes several set pieces which describe at length certain Roman customs and buildings. There are detailed architectural descriptions of several Roman houses with their household gods and peristyles, the Roman baths, temples, and the large stadium in which, in this novel, the Christians are thrown to the lions. Bulwer-Lytton proudly points out that the settings he used were in fact based on actual houses excavated in Pompeii which he visited, giving the events a tincture of authenticity despite the over-the-top nature of the story.

The characters range from swooning lovers to mustache-twisting villains, giving the full range of the Victorian English imagination transplanted to the age of Imperial Rome. The main love story involves two Athenians living in Pompeii, Ione, an orphan, and Glaucus who falls in love with her at first sight. Their languid romance unfolds amid dinner parties and poetry readings, though they must face the impediment of Ione’s former guardian, Arbaces, a wealthy, conniving Egyptian skilled at manipulation with an arrogant belief in his own exemption from morality. Of him it is said, “the orgies of his midnight leisure are impure and polluted.” Indeed.

The plot is melodramatic, dependent on coincidence, and highly structured to lead in to the climactic eruption of Mount Vesuvius in 79 AD. This scene, featuring crumbling columns, massive clouds of ash, and desperate crowds fleeing in chaos is analogous to the disaster scenes of the modern action movie so beloved of Hollywood. In fact, this novel apparently enjoyed the same level and type of fame in the 19th century as the film ‘Titanic’ did in the 20th, and it has in common with that film a very similar portrait of an advanced and refined civilization engulfed in a deadly disaster which is also interpreted as a moral judgment on that culture as well as an actual historical incident. The scene of the destruction of Pompeii is a harrowing panoramic portrait of an upended culture in which the blind slave girl Nydia, of whom Bulwer-Lytton writes that “night to her was as day”, is able to lead the young lovers to safety when the dark ash of the volcano turns day into night and only those accustomed to the dark can find their way through the crumbling temples and ruined buildings to safety.

‘The Last Days of Pompeii’ is marinated in the spirit of classicism, including a plot and character inspired by archaeological evidence that Bulwer-Lytton highlights with numerous detailed descriptions of Roman architecture. But undermining this stab at realism and authenticity is its plot which is a bit creaky and will only appeal to readers who can make allowance for the kind of highly artificial story in vogue in the early 1800s. However, give yourself up to that and I think you’ll find this novel a wonderfully entertaining indulgence in the poetic and melancholic fall of Pompeii.

I read this as a teenager because I was obsessed with natural disasters (still am!) like volcanoes. I enjoyed it more for the setting and historical detail than for the characters.

When I first read this book many many years ago, I was utterly astounded by it. Re-reading it now it is still a wonderfully told tale but is merely a poignant one, not overpowering as it was way back in my past. I wonder what kind of mood I must have been in during those days to be so affected by this book?

Make no mistake, this is a Gothic novel. And for me, it is the villain Arbaces the Egyptian priest who steals the show.

إنّها قصّة المدينة الرومانية القديمة التي كانت تعصي الله فألبسها الله لباس الخوف والجوع ونزل بها عذابه متمثّلاً في انفجار بركان يدعى فيزوف القريب منها عام 79 للميلاد وبقيت المدينة مطمورة تحت ركام هذا البركان حتى تمّ اكتشافها من قِبل علماء الآثار في العام 1748 !! (إضافة إلى التفاصيل التي كتبها المُترجم أنصحكم أن تقرأوا عن هذه القصة أكثر على غوغل).

أمتعتني القصة للغاية!، ولو أنّها زوّدت بالتفاصيل لكانت عملاً عظيماً، وفي جميع الأحوال ستُعايش معها تفاصيل بومبي والرومانيين القدامى وبعض مسارات حياتهم اليوميّة بطريقة روائيّة بسيطة ومسليّة. أعجبتني قصة الحب الماثلة فيها إضافةً إلى الأفكار العقائديّة التي حملتها الشخصيّات.
تمّت.

Ce roman est beaucoup trop long. Et que dire de l'écriture; beaucoup trop de mots pour rien dire.

Seulement les 40 dernières pages étaient intéressantes....

This famous Victorian novel is based on the archeological discoveries in Pompeii to coin a well-written story, full of suspense.

I read this thing while taking Latin and belonging to the Latin Club at Maine Township High School South in Park Ridge, Illinois. Although not highly regarded as literature, I, as an early teen, liked it quite a lot except for what, even then, I felt to be a rather saccharine Christianity.

Not sure why I confuse him with Ambrose Bierce. I haven't read more than a few paragraphs of either of them.