The fig tree on the other side of the road is still in its naked winter state of undress. A so they went deeper into the forest look, reminiscent of the Grimmer sort of German fairy tales. But J has spotted tiny buds forming at the ends of the upper branches, so there is a promise of future figs.
Sunny and hot enough that I give up on reading Imperium outside after a chapter, despite the bliss of sitting with glasses of quince gin on ice looking down at the sea. Imperium itself is a distinct pleasure. Harris succeeds in escaping the distancing effect of so many historical novels where the characters may be interesting but somehow lack the quality of real people that might be interacting in any modern setting. Think one of his tricks is to avoid anything dated in the way of dialogue. Nothing stilted, no archaisms. Nothing like a thee or thy to make a character establish himself as less than real.
Though the politics of violence do have their distinct period characteristics. Thus Crassus, the Roman general who put down Spartacus’s uprising of the slaves saw to it that 6000 of the rebels were crucified, their crosses lining the Appian Way for miles.
Posts
