S.J.A. Turney's Books & More

Reviews, news and inside the world of books.

Posts Tagged ‘Competition

Competition Time

leave a comment »

Do you want to win a collection of Roman goodies?

Do you?

Well here’s your chance. One lucky winner can get their hands on this amazing prize:


And all you have to do to win this prize is to upload to my Facebook Page a photo of you with a copy of Caligula somewhere interesting. That’s right. Just post your pic here, and you’re in with a chance to win. It can be a hardback, paperback or ebook with the cover showing, I don’t care. Here’s my feeble effort, but I have to try, coz if I won, the postage would be REALLY cheap…


I know. The expression. I look like an axe murderer. But that’s just the terrifying thought of having to let this lot go: Here’s what’s in the prize:


Signed copies of the first three Praetorian novels


Roman ‘as’ coin of Caligula, obverse Caligula with head bare, reverse Vesta seated.


CD of the album ‘Bloom’ by the excellent band ‘Caligula’s Horse’ AND the DVD of the classic BBC series ‘I Claudius’. Note that the DVD is region 2…


A bottle of excellent red wine made from the same Aglianico grape and in the same locale as the ancient Falernian wine, the slopes of Mount Falernus in Campania.

AND… Caligula himself as used in my various promotional photos over the year

That’s the prize. I hope I win it! But it’ll probably go to one of you lucky people. The winner (the most interesting pic) will be chosen by an independent celebrity, and not myself, to avoid any preferential treatment. The winner will be drawn on Friday 21st of December, so get thinking and photographing. And, of course, if you haven’t bought and read Caligula yet, now is the best time ever.

Good luck everyone.

Written by SJAT

November 30, 2018 at 11:53 am

Maid of Orleans

with 13 comments

Something slightly different for you today.

I am currently engrossed in Manda Scott’s latest opus – Into The Fire – and will be posting my review of it on Thursday in my usual scheduled slot, so look out for that. But in the meantime, I have been so utterly enthralled by the book that I felt perhaps it was time for another non-review post in between, about the character who is central to Manda’s new book: Jehanne d’Arc – a.k.a. Joan of Arc.

Furthermore, the lady herself (Manda, not Jehanne) has kindly answered a few questions I put to her and offered a signed copy of Into The Fire as a giveaway. So, when you’ve finished reading, please do comment on the post, and on Thursday when I release my review, I will randomly select one of those folk who commented on this and they will receive a signed copy of Into The Fire from Manda. And trust me, this is a giveaway you want to win, and a book you want to read. I am three quarters of the way through it myself, and it’s clearly going to be one my absolute top books of the year and, let’s face it, probably in the #1 spot.


(Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons)

So who was Jehanne d’Arc? Well I’m going to give you the sanitised potted historical version. If you really want to explore this question in depth, you need to read Manda’s book. As the legend goes, Jehanne was born in a village called Domremy, loyal French surrounded by Burgundian lands (who at the time sided with England rather than with France.) As a young girl she experienced a vision, in her father’s orchard, of the archangel Michael who told her it was her task to drive the English from France and see that the young Dauphin was crowned King. That was in 1425 when she was just twelve or thirteen years old. A few years passed and she begged to be allowed to visit the Dauphin’s court, but no one would believe her until she had a vision and detailed a French defeat before it had happened. That was in 1429, and consequently she was taken seriously and allowed to visit Chinon. The rest is history. In no time, this simple French maid was clad in plate, riding a charger and leading the French army into battle, beginning with the siege of Orleans.


(Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons)

As I said, if you want to dig a little deeper into who the Maid of Orleans really was, then Into The Fire is the book for you.

So what was happening between France, England and Burgundy, then? Well, it’s important to remember that at this time France as the nation we understand did not exist. Much of it was either subject to the English crown and had been since William the Bastard had come over from Normandy, or was part of one independent duchy or another. In fact the lands that the French king could call his own were at best half of what we now think of as France, mostly south central and southeast. The English crown had laid claim to all French lands for as long as anyone could remember and by 1429 had spent almost a century trying to conquer them. The French house of Valois was rather beleaguered, for the powerful Duchy of Burgundy, who were a branch of that same family, were at loggerheads with the French Dauphin over succession and therefore sided with England. Moreover, other powerful duchies in the north, such as Hainault and Flanders, had joined the English against France. Despite Scottish alliance and various other foreign supporters, France was in 1429 looking down the barrel of the gun, so to speak. And into the mess steps the maid from Domremy, with God on her side and a vision of a victorious France ruled by a king anointed in the ancient manner.


Photo courtesy of me, in Rheims 2012

And how did it end? Well again, I’m not going to throw any spoilers at those of you who don’t know the history. But it is a tale of ignominious capture, heroic resistance, political manoeuvering and religious trial. Bear in mind that this is the same era of history that saw the Knights Templar under de Molay tortured and executed for heresy. You can imagine how the misogynistic authorities in the 15th century might view a girl who led armies and defied kings. But like so many larger-than-life figures throughout history, while Jehanne’s death may have signalled the end of that particularly glorious summer for France, it guaranteed her a place in world history. For who can forget Joan of Arc, the maid of Orleans? And Jehanne forms the core of Into The Fire, which is a novel written in dual timelines, set in France in 1429 and in Orleans specifically in 2014. Investigation, arson, murder and political shenanigans form a modern tale that interweaves with the story of the Maid.


(Photo of Rouen’s Tour Jeanne d’Arc courtesy of Wikimedia Commons)

* * *

So, bearing in mind that I have not yet quite finished the book when I posed these questions to Manda, there follows a short Q&A with the talented lady herself.

* * *

Simon: Every nation seems to have its one folk hero. In England it is Robin Hood, in Scotland The Bruce, Romania has Vlad Dracula, while Germany has Arminius. The USA has Washington and Spain has Rodrigo Diaz (El Cid). France, interestingly, could easily claim at least two equally notable and equally romantic figures in that role. Most notably, given the general misogynistic tendencies of the ancient world right through to the 20th century, do you think it is Jehanne d’Arc’s gender that sets her apart and has made her more noticeable and more beloved than, perhaps, Vercingetorix, who had struggled with a very similar fight to throw out an invader some fifteen centuries earlier?

Manda: That’s a really interesting duo.  Because I’m currently immersed in WWII,I’d be inclined to add Jean Moulin and Pierre Brossolette to the list – and definitely Violet Szabo, she was extraordinary and the recent newspaper reports of her medals being sold gave the highly sanitised version of her death.  But that’s a whole separate discussion. 

I think Jehanne was set apart for a number of reasons and definitely the kind of ingrained misogyny that says a woman can’t be a knight, and can’t fight, can’t lead men, can’t be a warrior… this definitely contributed both to her failure at the time to win over the French Court (she had her ardent admirers, but those closest to the man she made king loathed her and contributed materially to her downfall) and then to the shaping of the narrative afterwards.  Because she was a woman, she had to be tried as a heretic, not as an enemy combatant.  Because the rules for detecting heresy were remarkably well described, not to say proscribed, they had to question her endlessly on the nature of her ‘counsel’ and not on her martial skills.  They also had regularly to verify her virginity because  it was a well known ‘fact’ that the devil could not consort with a virgin and this closed off one of their avenues of legal attack.  The whole thing was a pantomime, edging around the fact that she was a woman doing things that their narrative of the world said were impossible: none of it would have happened if she were a man.  
And so the myth was set – aided and abetted by those around the French court who had no greater reason to like her than did the English – and it has carried on down half a millennium to the 1920s when she was canonised, not for her martial skill or her rescue of France, but for her (imagined) piety – a detail which doesn’t stand up to the facts on the ground – and her ‘martyrdom’ which is one of those ghastly tropes that says if you die horribly, we’ll all love you for it afterwards.  And now, in the twenty first century, she’s a repository for the projections of the extreme right (perfect woman: virginal, pious, republican) and the extreme left for whom she’s a gender-bending feminist anti-christian shaman, none of which is true either (tho’ she did wear boy’s clothes and really didn’t want to give them up, which in those days, was a form of transvestitism that saw her burned, so perhaps the first of these might be true. I don’t think she was making political points, though. She was being practical). 
So: she was successful, where Vercingetorix wasn’t. She was fighting the English, who are still a fairly unpopular group in parts of France, whereas the Romans are universally admired… and the early spin means that people can project all they want on to her – and do – which is harder with a tribal chieftain who was kept seven years in a pit and then strangled in public on the orders of Julius Caesar.  All of which makes her an easy target for people who want to create saints. 
Simon: I know that you visited sites in France connected with the Maid of Orleans in research for this novel. I remember myself standing in Rouen where she met her end, as well as various other sites – the old market of Troyes, the church at Chablis, where one of her horseshoes is reputedly nailed to the door, and so on. And even now, many years on, I can remember the atmosphere redolent in such places. I remember being entranced by it even as a young man. Into The Fire is almost flooded with atmosphere, and puts me in mid of those sites even as I read. How much has visiting the appropriate places coloured your impress and descriptions of them in the book?
Manda: Definitely visiting Orléans made a huge impression on me – in fact, the whole of the Loire valley Jargeau, Meung-sur-Loire, Chinon, Blois… they’re all fascinating places. They’ve changed, obviously but the whole geography of the place and the relationship of the towns to the river is central to understanding the brilliance of her brief military campaign there.  And then the basilica at Cléray-Saint-André was very central to the contemporary thread of the narrative, so seeing that helped me to shape the parts of the action that needed to be there.  I never went to Rouen, I couldn’t face it.  – Rank cowardice on my part, but I studied the pictures and watched some videos and that was quite enough.  In a broader sense, though, seeing the remnants of the old town in Orléans, being places that are at least broadly similar did make a huge difference to gaining a feel of who she was. 

Simon: Jehanne has been the subject of a number of works of literature and cinema – those connected with William Shakespeare, Milla Jovovich, Ingrid Bergman and Mark Twain are just the more memorable. Given how unlikely it is that you have never read or seen such works, and given how iconic the Maid’s chastity and piety are, how hard was it to break the chains of common conception and build your own Joan in defiance of such works?

Manda: George Bernard Shaw, Vita Sackville West, Mark Twain… and yes, all the rest.  The amazing thing is, that until I read VSW’s biography, I’d never read anything more detailed than the Ladybird Book of Joan of Arc that I had in my collection when I was a kid (embarrassingly, my only real knowledge of Richard I comes from the same source – a Ladybird book. I really need to expand my reading).  What I gleaned from that was a story of a young woman so devoted to her imaginary friend in the sky that she was set as a figure head at the front of the troops while the men got on with the real work and was then burned for her trouble, and oddly enough (or not, if you’ve read anything else I’ve written), that held no interest for me at all.  I didn’t want to read anything else, watch any of the films, or see any of the plays.   It was only when I read an article that began to point me to the great gaping gaps in the accepted narrative that she became interesting as a person and then I didn’t want to read anyone else’s fictional account because I wanted to find her for myself.  So breaking the chains of common conception is the point of a lot of what I write – the world is no always how we’ve been told and I want at least to hold up the known detail and stare at it and let people see the gaps. If they work a different ‘best fit’ to fill them, that’s fine, but at least we don’t have to keep swallowing the nonsense that suited – and still suits – those who’d rather we didn’t question reality too closely. 
Simon: Into The Fire is written in two separate, yet concurrent timelines, which must be mind-numbing to keep together in terms of continuity and plot. Moreover, they are both set in France in different eras, requiring the novel to be written from a point of view that is truly Gallocentric. Was it difficult to cast aside your Britishness and look at the English as both a militaristic invader and a modern foreign nation, depending upon the timeframe? I note with interest, given your Scottish roots, the ready inclusion of the Auld Alliance in the earlier timeframe, which is historical record, but also feeds your plot perfectly.
Manda: You hit this one on the head. I am a Scot and unless you’ve been raised in Scotland, it’s hard to explain exactly the degree to which England is still the enemy. My father was a true blue Thatcher-loving Tory, but still, every single day as he drove us the 45 minutes from our tiny rural village into school in Glasgow, he told us the stories of our ancestors – the men who had fought and died at Flooded, at Bannockburn, at all the other hundreds of times when the Scotts were (notionally) on the Scottish side and the English were the bad guys. There was a Covenanter’s hill above the village I grew up in and we knew its history, and that of Glasgow when we knew nothing else.   I could sing Flower of Scotland (and still can, tho’ you wouldn’t want to hear it: I’m the world’s worst singer) and have never yet learned the words to the UK National Anthem. It’s an odd kind of double think because we know that England isn’t really the enemy. But equally we know that for a long time it was, that it could not be trusted and that France was our friend. And if I ever forgot, one of the first big historical series I ever read was Dorothy Dunnett’s Lymond series which is all Scotland and France. And then her amazing, glorious, much-overlooked King Hereafter, which is the true story of MacBeth as a Viking, and easily the best viking book ever written. 
So putting myself in the head of the French who had just lost Agincourt was easy after a childhood filled with moments when in my childhood imagination,  I had stood as a lone survivor after the defeat of Flodden or the victory of Bannockburn. And understanding civil war was easy after the many, many retellings of the treachery of the Campbells against the MacDonalds at the Massacre of Glencoe and the whole dreadful treachery that made James VI into James I and lost Scotland’s sovereignty.   The discovery of the plaque to the ‘Auld Alliance’ with the names of the Scots who fought for the freedom of Orléans was an immensely moving moment and helped to craft a substantial arm of the historical narrative. 

Simon: It’s an old favourite, I know, but I’m unapologetic. Given the sheer variety of eras and milieus that you take on in your writing, and that this seems to be a standalone novel, what’s next?

Manda: It *isn’t* a standalone novel!  I’m writing ACCIDENTAL GODS  – just passed the 110k mark of what will, I think, be around 180k – it continues the stories of the surviving key characters from the 2014 thread of INTO THE FIRE and the historical thread is supplied by their grandparents’ generation in WWII and beyond (I’m in 1956 now, briefly, having cruised through 1941 – 44 in England and France).  This is a completely fascinating period and one thing that rose to the top in all my reading was the difference between the Maquis and the Resistance, and the differing roles of the SOE in the rural areas rather than the cities where they have so often been depicted.  And then the Jedburghs fell from the sky: three man teams with two officers and a radio operative who dropped in uniform after D-Day and helped to co-ordinate the rural Maquis groups and make sure they were fighting the right war in the right place at the right time.  Eisenhower said afterwards they were the worth of 3 extra divisions and although there were some terrible mistakes (Vercours, for instance), there was some outstanding work done. More to the point, the US parts of these went on to form the nucleus of the newly formed CIA and spent the rest of their lives trying to do the same again in Korea, Vietnam, Afghanistan, Iraq – and they’re doing it now in Syria, trying to arm the Kurds and train up local militias and they haven’t worked out that this was viable in France were the locals were white westerners living in a liberal (ish) democracy and it doesn’t necessarily work in the rest of the world. 
What I really want to look at is how we got from there – 1945 with Bletchley Park and all that it undoubtedly achieved – to 2015 and GCHQ/NSA and their avowed intention to collect everything about everyone and keep it forever. Particularly I want to look at the creation of STUXNET virus, and the blocking of the last round of the climate talks in Denmark.   The nature of democracy is changing. Accountability is growing more tenuous. It’s a very, very fertile area for a fiction writer to look at the way things are. 
All that’s left to say, then, is thank you to Manda for her generosity and time in answering my questions and in offering such a wonderful prize for one lucky reader. Get commenting for your chance to receive a signed copy of this most enthralling book, you lucky people.

Wonder Of Rome

with 35 comments



In my head, I found myself strolling through the list of Rome’s Emperors (I can recite as far as the year of the 6 emperors by rote) and wondering whether they would make an interesting blog entry. That, in my middle-of-the-night blurry mind became something of a challenge to myself. I would take the list of Emperors and try and find something positive – an achievement – that came from the reign of each one, even the ones traditionally hailed as monsters. An intriguing proposition, eh?

I realised afterwards that I was going to have to limit myself to the emperors who managed at least most of a year in power and therefore had time to achieve something! You’d be surprised how many that knocks out of the list. I also decided to quit around the time of the introduction of the Tetrarchy, given the fact that we then have four rulers on the go at any given time, just to complicate the issue. Just a note ahead of time: this blog is light-hearted in its approach. If you are seeking Oxford monographs, look elsewhere folks. Otherwise, prepare to learn a few new facts and perhaps treat yourself to a little giggle now and then, and look out for the competition and links at the end.

So without further ado, here we go.

Augustus (27 BC-14) – How easy is Augustus? (as the actress said to the bishop). The man who ‘found Rome brick, but left it marble’? Well from my personal point of view, given what I write, I would credit him mostly with the creation of Rome’s legendary standing army in the form that persisted for centuries.


Tiberius (14-37) – May have been a depressive fruitcake, but he built a lovely set of palaces, including one on the Palatine, one at Sperlonga, and the vertiginous Villa Jovis on Capri (from which he supposedly hurled people to their deaths, but we’ll overlook that for comfort. After all, he did!)


Caligula (37-41) – Perhaps the most maligned of Rome’s rulers. An early incarnation of Joffey Baratheon. And yet after the autocratic rule of Tiberius, he found time to reinstate a proper democratic process for public officials. Now if only he’d left his sisters alone…


Claudius (41-54) – Clubfooted and stammering fool? I think not. There are many achievements of Claudius to choose from, not least the fact that this land I sit upon became Roman because of his expansion of the Empire. But I think I’d have to go for the Tiber canal works and the expansion of Ostia and Portus for trade as his greatest achievement.


Nero (54-68) – Nero (Christopher Biggins) is a toughie. And yet despite being hailed as the Antichrist by the Catholic church and having been almost universally hated throughout history, bear in mind that this evil man set a cap on the fees charged by lawyers. And who’s the greater evil: he or they?


Vespasian (69-79) – It’s hard to dislike the fat jolly genius general Vespasian. It’s easy to find positives, too. Think I’ll go with the construction of the Colosseum (not completed until after he died, but his project nonetheless.)


Titus (79-81) – Beloved of the people. In his short but eventful reign, Titus managed more than some Emperors did in a decade. But probably the thing he SHOULD be remembered for is his efforts to alleviate the suffering in the aftermath of Vesuvius’ eruption.


Domitian (81-96) – despite an unsavoury reputation in history, Domitian left Rome with some of its greatest structures. Remember him for a building program that produced the great palace on the Palatine, the Odeon and Stadium in the Campus Martius, and several temples in the forum.


Nerva (96-98) – Hard to dispute the positive value of Nerva’s new policy of adoptive heirs, selecting the best man for the succession rather than attempting to breed him (a system that had turned the Julio-Claudian dynasty into inbred 3-toothed hillbillies.)


Trajan (98-117) – One of the greats. If Domitian is to be remembered for the great buildings he left behind, then he will be eclipsed by Trajan. The Market? The Forum? The Column? I think I’m going to go with the fact that Trajan left Rome at the end of his reign at its greatest extent, never to be achieved again. Some feat.


Hadrian (117-138) – No. I refuse to use the wall. Too easy. In fact his building program empire-wide is a little easy really. But that itself was part of a massive reorganisation and repair of the infrastructure for the entire empire. Would that he could tour Britain now, eh? Our local roads are apparently corrugated.


Antoninus Pius (138-161) – Well I think we’ll have to go with Tony P’s wall across Scotland, expanding the border in Britannia to its northernmost permanent frontier in history. Probably the first man to have an erection in Glasgow.


Marcus Aurelius (161-180) – Again, only a difficult one because of too many options to choose from. I would settle for his Meditations – a philosophical tome that rivals the great Greek thinkers and showing unusual depth for a politician!


Commodus (176-192) – Good old megalomaniac Commodus is a toughie. Might be an achievement to say he left us at least 2 Imperial villas, or allowed the army to wield axes. But I’d go for – whatever you say about the effects of his conciliatory policies – the fact that the Empire had peacetime enough to breathe for the first time in decades.


Septimius Severus (193-211) Our first in many ways. The first of a far-reaching dynasty. The first African Emperor. But despite his vaunted military facets, and even his forked beard (sign of a classic movie villain), I’d remember him for embellishing the provincial city of Leptis Magna  and turning it into one of the grandest atchitectural gems in the Roman world – a fact still visible in its remains.


Caracalla (198-217) His memory may be damnatio, and he may be a fratricide, but old gloomy-pants Caracalla made every freedman across the Empire a citizen. Might have had selfish reasons, of course, both financial and military, but it was still nice for the freedmen, I’m sure.


Macrinus (217-218) – Despite a short and generally unpopular reign, Macrinus managed to positively revalue Rome’s currency. And the policy outlasted him, unlike previous attempts such as that of old hairy Pertinax (not listed here due to the brevity of his rule.)


Elagabalus (218-222) – Oh now HERE’s a fruitcake supreme.  But did everyone’s favourite Syrian weirdie leave anything of lasting benefit? The simple answer is no. Sadly, he is my real stumbling block in the list. In four years he is remembered as having done nothing that was not in some way destructive. The best I can do is note how his attempt to make Sol Invictus the prime God of Rome brought that cult to a formerly unthought of prominence for good and therefore likely influenced later Roman Christianity.


Severus Alexander (222-235) – As a personal choice, I remember him for the enormous fountainhead of the new Aqua Alexandrina, standing tall and imposing still in the Park in Plaza Vittorio Emmanuel II in Rome. The first time I saw it it lodged in my mind and stayed there.


Maximinus Thrax (235-238) – Not much positive to say about the Thracian giant. The best I can manage is that at a time when the security of the northern frontier was beginning to crumble he campaigned, won battles, and managed to secure the border for a while. That and you wouldn’t mess with him in a bar fight!


I’m going to skip the brief reigns of Gordian I & II, Pupienus, & Balbinus, but I had to mention them, just so that I could pronounce ‘poopy-anus’ aloud while reading this back and then laugh like Beavis and Butthead. Bet you’re re-reading it and guffawing right now.

Gordian III (238-244) – Despite a reign spanning six years, young Gordianus Pius managed to achieve remarkably little, due to his youth and the fact that other men governed for him throughout the period. One thing we can ascribe to him worth noting, is the ‘palace’ of Gordian at Volubilis in Morocco.


Philipus Arabs (244-249) – Despite a reign that left little of value, Philip had the honour of holding the most important (and last ever) of the Ludi Saeculares in Rome. A huge pageant involving games, races, fights, plays and more to celebrate another century in Rome, Philip’s celebrated the city’s thousandth anniversary.


Decius (249-251) – It would be nice to laud the political and religious reforms of the miserable-looking old sod Decius here, but sadly his reign was cut rather short (much like his body), and the planned reforms were never instituted. So we will have to go with the baths of Decius on the Aventine, the only great show of public works within a period of several decades of strife.


Trebonianus Gallus (251-253) – Remembered chiefly for one act of charity, when plague ravaged Rome and the Emperor paid for the decent burial of its victims, even the impoverished. In my own mind, he’s chiefly remembered for that heroic nude statue of him that makes him a pretty peculiar shape.


Valerian (253-260) – (Trying not to tut at the stupid ends some Emperors meet). Caesar Publius Licinius Valerianus Footstoolius Augustus! The most positive thing I can say on Footstool’s reign is that he reconquered the lost land of Syria. And he was probably nice and comfy.


Gallienus (253-268) – Really, in the mid 3rd century, it could be said that Gallienus’ greatest achievement is having reigned continuously for 15 year without a knife in the back. In lasting terms, Gallienus seemed to anticipate the changing nature of warfare and shifted the focus of the army towards cavalry for the first time. It might be said this was the first major step to the new field armies of the late Empire.


Claudius Gothicus (268-270) – In a time faced with breakaway states and numerous invasions and incursions, Claudius II can be remembered with pride for having begun the course of putting the Empire back together. He fought the Goths back over the Danube and restored Hispania to the Empire, weakening the breakaway Gallic Empire.


Aurelian (270-275) – Bulgarian provincial, able cavalry commander and wearer of the pointy crown, it would be nice to laud him for the reunification of the empire, conquering the breakaway states of Gaul and Palmyra. But a chunk of the acclaim for that has to go (and has gone) to Claudius II. And anyway, there is a more physical reminder of Aurelian’s reign in the form of the great impressive brick walls and gates that surround Rome to this day. The Aurelian walls rightly hold a place in the great fortifications of history.


Probus (276-282) – You may not think it, but this obscure gruff soldier emperor from the backwaters of the Balkans gave us one great gift perhaps above that of all other emperors. In order to keep his armies busy between wars, he had them plant vineyards in Gaul. By extension, he is directly responsible for seventeen centuries of French viniculture. Probus is the father of the French wine. Bet you’ll remember him now!


Carus (282-283) – Carus holds two distinctions in my eyes. Firstly, despite a short reign, he is one of very few Emperors who achieved a solid victory in Persia, holding the Sassanids at bay and avenging many years of humiliation at their hands. Secondly, he was the first Emperor to be served flambé courtesy of a lightning strike!


Carinus (283-285) – Apparently the only positive thing that can be said to have come from Carinus’ short, brutal and somewhat unpopular reign is the grandest Ludi Romani (annual games) for half a century. The fact that he held a huge party and that was his great achievement somewhat condemns the man.


Diocletian (284-305) – Diocletian’s achievements are so numerous and so far-reaching that it would be difficult to even attempt to list them. We will therefore, in order to bring proceedings to a close, go with the foundation of that most complex and bureaucratic system of rule: the Tetrarchy. While it may have inevitably collapsed through the power-hunger of men like Constantine, the changes instituted by Diocletian took a failing nation and revitalised it, giving it an edge that would keep it going another century and birth the Byzantine Empire. And… of course… he retired to grow cabbages!


So there you go. Not a comprehensive list, but it goes to show that no reign should ever be viewed in monochrome.



If you enjoy the world of Rome, you may wish to take a look at my books (top right of the blog) and perhaps visit my main website and have a read of a sample. And as a special treat, here’s a giveaway for you. Comment on this blog and tell me the most interesting achievement you can think of that came from the daddy of the entire Imperial system – Julius Caesar – and the most interesting (true) answer will receive either a signed paperback copy of my latest release (Marius’ Mules V) or the full set of 5 books in E-format, your choice. Get commenting!


If you’ve had fun reading this, read on for more Rome on the sites of my good friends on the blog hop!

David Blixt – Author of the Colossus books

Petrea Burchard – Author of Camelot & Vine

John Henry Clay – Author of The Lion And The Lamb

Gordon Doherty – Author of the Legionary & Strategos series

Heather Domin – Author of The Soldier of Raetia

Ruth Downie – Author of the enthralling Ruso mysteries

Tim Hodkinson -Author of Lions of the Grail &

Helen Hollick – Author of the Pendragon’s Banner series

Scott Hunter – Author of The Serpent and the Slave

Alison Morton – Author of Inceptio

Fred Nath – Author of the atmospheric Galdir novels

Mark Patton – Author of An Accidental King

David Pilling – Author of Caesar’s Sword & various others

M.C. (Manda) Scott – Author of the acclaimed Rome & Boudicca series

Elisabeth Storrs – Author of The Wedding Shroud

Brian Young – Author of The Eagle Has Fallen

Written by SJAT

August 15, 2013 at 8:00 am