Review by New York Times Review
When we think of Rome and its history, particularly its ancient history, we tend to imagine the city projecting its power out into the world, over an astonishing geographical range. There are Roman ruins in Scotland, in Hungary, in Syria - even in Morocco and Libya. But there is another story to tell about how Rome came to be, and that is what the British novelist and local resident Matthew Kneale has set out to do in "Rome: A History in Seven Sackings." To organize his alternative history of the notso-eternal city, "sackings were the obvious choice," Kneale writes. "As Romans ruefully observe, Rome has had no shortage of them." He begins in 387 B.C., with the Gauls poised just north of the city, and ends in 1944, as American troops slip in from the south to expel the Nazis. Along the way he covers the sackings of Rome by the Visigoths, the Ostrogoths, the Normans, the troops of the Holy Roman Empire and the French. Inevitably, some famous sackings, like the spectacular one the Vandals pulled off in A.D. 455, barely get mentioned. This is hardly Kneale's fault. Rome is almost certainly the most written-about city in human history, and he is working with 2,500 years of action. The brilliance of his own raid on Rome lies in the principle of selectivity he has brought to it - what is done to Rome matters as much as what Rome does to the world - and the depth of his research (his informative source notes cover 18 pages). He is giving us a tour, but he is also making a case about the interpenetration of the cultures that mixed as the sackings unfolded. He could say of all seven of his examples what he says of the Gauls: They "left a permanent mark on the Romans' worldview, giving them a new sense of fear." He is open from the beginning about the formula he relies on to get through all this material. First he shows us the invaders as they gather themselves for the onslaught, then he takes us on an excursion into what they will find once they get there. Finally he tells us how Rome changed in response. There is a lot of church history, as there must be, which he handles quite well, and a fair number of plagues, floods and earthquakes to go with the violence and plunder of the sackings themselves. Reading Kneale's book, you are sometimes left to wonder how anything in Rome has been left standing at all. The final chapter, about what the Nazis did to the city and its residents, Jewish and otherwise, in 1943 and 1944, serves to illustrate the methods of the book as a whole. It is filled with interesting asides. Kneale points out, for example, that under Mussolini, tourists were scorned because the Fascists blamed them "for having turned the country into a land of servants." But to bolster his narrative Kneale also highlights two unusual accounts by women who lived through the war, and he deploys them with a novelist's eye. He quotes an American nun describing the arrival of a jeep with four American soldiers in it: "The thing looked so solitary, yet so significant in the cool stillness of the dawn. I had it all to myself for a few seconds." This kind of sensitivity to language is unusual in a book intended for a popular audience. Whether they are drawn from legendary ancient historians or unsung modern eyewitnesses, moments like this one are what put Kneale one step ahead of most other Roman chroniclers. AARON retica is a senior staff editor for the Op-Ed page of The Times.
Copyright (c) The New York Times Company [January 31, 2019]
Review by Booklist Review
*Starred Review* Tourists will find no Roman monument memorializing Alaric, king of the Visigoths. But as Kneale unfolds two millennia of Roman history, he shows where Alaric and his barbarian horde fit in an impressive parade of invaders (including Gauls, Normans, Spaniards, French, and Germans) who have left indelible marks on the Eternal City. In focusing his narrative history of Rome on seven sackings, Kneale illuminates not only the raw violence that has repeatedly bloodied the famed metropolis but also the evolving military technology delivering that violence from the frighteningly rapid chariots of the Gauls to the irresistibly powerful panzer tanks of the Nazis. Looking behind the weaponry, readers discern a diverse range of political regimes, often in surprising configurations, battling for control of Rome's Seven Hills: Rome's sixth-century Byzantine ally recruits soldiers from Hun tribes; the Vatican's nineteenth-century pontiff-in-exile goads postrevolutionary France into assaulting his own city. Personalities count for at least as much as political principles in Rome's most tumultuous episodes: readers puzzle over the astonishing civic-mindedness of the Ostrogoth chieftain Theodoric, marvel at the globe-spanning adventurousness of the Italian nationalist Giuseppe Garibaldi, and recoil from the cruel savagery of Nazi SS Chief Herbert Kappler. A richly textured chronicle, teasing meaning out of intense turbulence.--Christensen, Bryce Copyright 2018 Booklist
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
Kneale (Passengers) stumbles in his attempt to plumb the mystique of the Eternal City in this panoramic and deeply researched account of Roman history, told through the city's seven sackings at the hands of Gauls, Goths, Nazis, and other barbarian hordes. Early in the process of writing, Kneale reveals, he envisioned each chapter as "a kind of vast postcard from Rome describing what it looked like, felt like, and smelt like" at a given moment in time. Unfortunately, this authorial intent has not translated well: rather than an evocative travelogue or history, the book is more a series of disconnected episodes of political intrigue and bloodshed. Kneale's love for the city in all its incarnations, past and present, is clear, but his habit of beginning each chapter with a present-day anecdote about a deserted castle or sleepy Calabrian town that is then revealed as the site of a major historical event quickly becomes repetitive. Later material on the rise of Italian nationalism in the mid-19th century and the occupation of Rome by the Nazis is persuasively presented, with a sense of narrative urgency that earlier sections lack. Yet the crucial element missing throughout is a sense of the sheer presence of the city, whether as an imperial capital, ransacked ruin, or sacred site. Despite Kneale's best efforts, Rome still holds its secrets close. Agent: George Lucas, InkWell Management. (May) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.
(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by Library Journal Review
How do you tell the story of the Eternal City in a single book? Novelist and historian Kneale (English Passengers; When We Were Romans) attempts an episodic approach, centered on seven major instances of Rome's invasion by outside forces. Each sacking is given a single chapter, beginning with the Gallic invasions of the 380s BCE and ending with the Nazi occupation and Allied liberation of the city during World War II. Chapters open with the circumstances of the invasion, detours for an overview of Rome's condition and social character at that particular time, and conclude by relating the details of the plundering and its aftermath. The move from chapter to chapter usually necessitates a chronological leap of several hundred years, but in spite of the gaps, Kneale's choice of focal points provides a stirring view of the general history of Rome and its endurance and adaptability. VERDICT A solid history of Rome that isn't the typical straightforward narrative. Readers will find much to appreciate in Kneale's love for the city's past.-Kathleen McCallister, Tulane Univ., New Orleans © Copyright 2018. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by Kirkus Book Review
A sprawling city with an ancient history, Rome defies a neat narrative of its past.Novelist and historian Kneale (An Atheist's History of Belief: Understanding Our Most Extraordinary Invention, 2014, etc.) takes a fresh historical approach by focusing on groups of invaders that indelibly shaped the contemporary city. "Treasures," he writes, "have been preserved from the era of each sacking": the Gauls in 387 B.C.E., Visigoths and Ostrogoths from the 230s to the 500s C.E., Normans in the early 1000s, Spanish and Lutherans in the 1500s, French in the mid-19th century, and Nazis in the 20th century. Kneale offers gritty accounts of waves of violent incursions and vivid portraits of daily lifeincluding health, food, housing, laws, sexual attitudes, and religious practicesduring each period. In the second century, for example, with a population of more than 1 million, Rome was decidedly unhealthy. Measles, mumps, tuberculosis, smallpox, and malaria were widespread, and the life span for all but the wealthy was around 25. Medieval Rome was little better: In 1527, Rome stank "of rubbish, offal and fish bones, of filthy water from tanneries and dyers, and of dung, both animal and human." In 1525, an outbreak of plague ravaged the city. Within a few years, disease, war, and famine reduced the population by nearly a third. During the Renaissance, the French Poxsyphilisspread across Italy, sending sufferers to quacks, apothecaries, and doctors who "still viewed bad health as stemming from an imbalance of the four humours." Food changed dramatically over the centuries: Kneale notes that at the time of the Goths, "classic Roman dishes would be more Thai than Mediterranean," flavored by fermented fish sauce. In the 11th century, Romans ate mostly roasts or stews, but in Renaissance Rome, those who could afford it enjoyed a variety of meats, vegetables, and fruits, including items still associated with Italian cuisine, such as buffalo mozzarella and artichokes. Few, though, had access to clean water: Only one aqueduct functioned, and the Tiber was severely polluted.A lively perspective on Rome's rich history. Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
