The edition I read was
a Penguin Classics version, translated from Greek by ERA Sewter and
revised with notes and an introduction by Peter Frankopan.
It’s a biography of
the Alexius Komnenos, ruler of the Eastern Roman Empire and widely
regarded as one of its best emperors. The history is written by his
daughter Anna Komnene, and I think it’s the first history penned by
a woman, certainly in Europe.
The biography doesn’t
cover the entirety of Alexius’ life, beginning in the late 11th
century with Alexius as a senior officer in the Roman army. From this
point it describes him fighting rebels and himself rebelling
(ostensibly to save his own life from potentially fatal court
intrigues), becoming emperor and reigning for decades.
This was a particularly
important shift for the Empire as it marked a (temporary) end to
short-lived and rubbish emperors, with Alexius’ reign also
coinciding with Robert Guiscard’s invasion of the Balkans and the
First Crusade. Indeed, Alexius appears to have spent more time
fighting with the Franks than the Turks.
I like the author’s
writing style quite a lot. It’s more personal than most histories
for obvious reasons (early on Anna Komnene refers to ‘her
father’/‘my father’ an awful lot) but even when talking about
others you get a sense of her character. At one point she refers to a
man acting like a demi-god towards a demi-ass, and laments the
decline in education thus:
‘Today it is the game
of draughts that is all the rage – and other activities which
contravene the law’
There is a
defensive/apologetic note sometimes, with the author keen to stress
that she is not biased and is being objective. There is some evidence
to bear this out (she does not omit the fact that when Alexius took
the throne his army looted much of Byzantium). The apologetic note
slightly reminds me of the letter Machiavelli wrote to Lorenzo de
Medici ahead of The Prince.
She does, however, have
a penchant both for tangents and writing things out of order. Because
of this, the notes are more useful in this history than perhaps any
other, clarifying dates and suggesting when the author may be
mistaken.
That personal aspect
lends added poignancy to the description of her father’s demise
which, dealing with a universal part of life, is as emotive today as
it would have been when it was written nine centuries ago.
Things I dislike are
relatively few. As always, endnotes are inferior to footnotes, and
the translation includes a pet hate: the ‘firing’ of arrows.
There are not many lacunas, save for the final few pages where they
pepper the page and occasionally make it tricky to determine the
meaning.
Probably clear at this
point that I liked The Alexiad rather a lot. I’ve read a small
number of other books that cover the period in less detail (John
Julius Norwich’s excellent trilogy on Byzantium, and I’ve read
Gibbon’s Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, but can’t remember
if he skipped Alexius [I think he covered the Komneni]). That extra
context is useful but not essential for understanding the
strategically difficult position the Empire was in, and the
achievement of Alexius in restoring stability, prosperity and
(mostly) victory to the ailing Empire.
The biography is
strongly focused, as you would expect, upon the person and successes
of Alexius, so other reading is not essential, and The Alexiad is
well worth reading on its own.
Thaddeus
No comments:
Post a Comment