Civil War

America had one Civil War a hundred and fifty years ago, though its echoes linger. Rome had four civil wars in less than a century, ending only with the triumph of Octavian (the future Emperor Augustus) over Antony in 30 B.C. Lucan's historical epic "The Civil War" paints a vivid and harrowing portrait of the horrors of fratricidal warfare and the madness of a ruling class hurtling toward its own destruction, motivated by ambition, greed, and lust for power. Unfortunately Lucan (A.D. 39-65) was only twenty-five when he died, forced to commit suicide as a result of his involvement with a conspiracy against the unhinged Nero. (Ironically he dedicated his poem to Nero, perhaps with tongue in cheek). As a result, "The Civil War" ends abruptly in the middle of Book Ten, just as the Alexandrian War was heating up. A shame Lucan died so young: If he wrote like this when he was twenty-five, imagine what he could have done at fifty?It is not surprising that Lucan, nephew of the Stoic philosopher and statesman Seneca (another victim of Nero's) favors the Republican and senatorial side and portrays Julius Caesar in the blackest terms, since he was in effect the founder of the Julio-Claudian line that ended with Nero. He could not have known that Nero's death would result in another bloody civil war in A.D. 68-69 that only ended with the triumph of Vespasian, who duplicated Augustus' accomplishment in restoring order under the guise of restoring republican rule. Despite his sympathies, he is unable to make Caesar's antagonist, Pompey the Great, heroic: He comes across as weak and indecisive and is only sympathetic in encounters with his long-suffering wife Cornelia. The true hero of the poem is Cato the Younger, another Stoic, who led a dogged rearguard resistance against Caesar in North Africa that ended with his death by suicide in 46 B.C. Lucan is not an objective historian; his work is blatantly partisan and he often takes liberties with the facts which can be forgiven in this case as poetic license. His knowledge of geography is hazy and his attempt at following Cato's route in Libya (the Roman name for all North Africa west of Egypt) is confusing. Although mythological references abound, the Olympian gods of Homer play no part in his poem, and he seems torn between the Stoic interpretation of history (Fate deciding the affairs of men) and the rival Epicurean school, which stresses the role of Fortune. A true Roman, he thrives on gory details and has a taste for Gothic horror (i.e., the gruesome encounter between Sextus Pompeius and the witch Eryctho before the battle of Pharsalus). He displays a genuine racial hatred of Egyptians and his loathing of Cleopatra (who only appears at the end) is visceral. Keep in mind that Claudius, Caligula, and Nero were all direct descendants of Mark Antony (by way of Augustus' sister Octavia) and Lucan attributed the decadence of the imperial Roman court to the example of Alexandria.Lucan is no longer as highly regarded as he once was, when he was ranked with Homer and Virgil as the third great epic poet of antiquity. Nonetheless, his influence on western civilization has been great indeed, and he was highly prized throughout the Medieval, Renaissance, and Enlightenment eras. His hatred of tyranny and defiant spirit found an echo in many later struggles. Without him neither Dante nor Shakespeare would have written as they did. Matthew Fox's translation is eminently readable and captures something of the grandeur of the original, with helpful footnotes. Fox and Ethan Adams provide the introduction. For those interested, an appendix (which I have not read) contains a translation of Eumolpus' parody of Lucan, found in Petronius' "Satyricon."

Roman prodigy Lucan was merely 25 years old in 65 A D when he committed suicide to avoid Nero’s retribution. His major work, Pharsalia or Civil War is an epic masterpiece of contradictory brilliance, even in translation.The 2012 Penguin translation by Matthew Fox, to me, is mundane compared to the 1993 Cornell UP translation by Jane Wilson Joyce. For example, this metaphor depicting the ferocity and courage of Caesar when crossing the Rubicon, Matthew Fox (1.223-30) translates “As in the wild fields of heat-blistering Libya a lion sees his foe close at hand and doubts, crouching down while he gathers up his rage; but then, once he’s lashed himself with his savage tail, bristled his mane and let forth a mighty roar from his massive jaws, then, should an agile Moor twist a lance that strikes, or a spear pierce his wide chest, heedless of such wounds it runs him out and through.”while Jane Wilson Joyce (1.205-12) has “. . . imagine the parched savannahsof sweltering Lybia: a lion has sighted a nearby foe;he crouches down, hesitant, while he rouses his anger;and soon, when he has whipped himself up with his savage tail,with mane erect and a throaty grumble from gaping jaws,he lets out a roar; then, if a lance flung by a Moorshould pierce him, or hunting spears sink in his broad chest,he runs on despite the steel, ignoring his grevious wound.”To me, a mere wannabe dilletante with no Latin, the latter translation has a lustre that the former lacks, and this applies throughout wherever I directly compare versions. So the Cornell UP version seems much more vibrant, less vanilla. It also has a more extensive Glossary.BUT, the Penguin version Notes are wonderfully voluminous and detailed, moreso than anything I’ve encounted in my long life (and I read lots of learned books). Aimed at readers who seek information rather than academic apparatus type references, there is a wealth of learning to be had in the over 100 pages of highly pertinent information. Also the Notes include a multitude of intertextual references which are very relevant most of the time. The Cornell UP version has no Notes.So, I conclude that the Penguin version is aimed more at the interested pleb, whereas the Cornell UP version is aimed at the classics-trained congnoscenti. It’s more difficult but much more fun.

After comparing translations by JD Duff (Loeb Classical Library), Susan H. Braund (Oxford Classics), and AS Kline, I found this 2012 translation by Matthew Fox and Ethan Adams to be far superior. Aside from a decidedly more modern tone and word choice, the sentences are shorter and highlight Lucan's love for conveying opposites, the men jumped up to pull down their weapons, for example. "The Gods favored the victor, Cato the lost cause," is another.

If you love the Green/Roman classical period, drop everything and read this one. Great edition, wonderful intro and notes (vital to understanding the contemporaneous references thru-out). Bravo! Lucian did not make it to his 26th birthday thanks to Nero, a genius nonetheless.

I hate to leave a low rating but the book came very scratched and worn. I gave it as a Christmas present and was very embarrassed to do so. After a couple days, my daughter, asked me if I bought it used, because the condition was very bad for a new book. It came super fast, and the book itself is great, but if you like your books in good condition you might want to look elsewhere.