The Black Company, by Glen Cook

 

This is a re-read, but it’s been over a decade since I last read The Black Company and in my quest to try and clear bookshelf space I’ve been revisiting some old ones to see if I still like them.

The Black Company is old school fantasy and throws the reader right into the thick of things. The aforementioned military outfit is a mercenary company that has its own sense of tradition and honour but does get hired by ropey sorts. Early on, they get hired by Soulcatcher, one of the Taken, ancient wizards recently returned to the world in the enthralled service of the Lady.

This gets the Company out of an unwanted, pre-existing contract but also means they’re fighting for The Bad Guys in a major war. And it’s not just the enemy on the battlefield they need to watch out for, as the Taken bicker and fight with one another.

The POV is Croaker, the Black Company’s annalist and surgeon, and generally a good egg. Other major characters in the Company include the Captain (unnamed beyond the rank), wizards Silent, One Eye and Goblin, and newcomer Raven (who is a cold fish but very talented at killing things).

There’s very much a theme of war soon stripping away the virtuous idea of good versus evil, which is a little grim if realistic. Easy to read and relatively short, The Black Company doesn’t waste time faffing about and the antagonism between the Taken is shown very clearly early on, which adds an interesting extra dimension to the story There’s also a prophecy that The White Rose has been reborn, having in an earlier incarnation defeated the Lady (and her still trapped husband the Dominator). That could present a way out for the Black Company from their contract with the Lady…

Overall, I liked The Black Company a lot.

 

As a side note, I have the second book, Shadows Linger, and am going to start it shortly, but it’s annoying that the third, The White Rose, isn’t available except second hand or as part of a first-three-books compilation.

 

Thaddeus

Review: Classical Mythology, by Helen A Guerber

Hot(ish) off the heels of her excellent book on Norse mythology I bought Guerber’s work on classical mythology, which I know rather better. As such, there were fewer surprises and less novelty value. Also, as the intro mentions, she deliberately avoids what might be called the racier details. In this edition, which is illustrated, there’s plenty of fantastic artwork covering the gods, heroes, and monsters of classic myth. Note that Roman rather than Greek names are usually used, with the exception of Cronus/Saturn.

We start off with the creation of the world, then proceed through the various gods and goddesses, before covering major heroes and then, briefly, minor gods/spirits. As much be expected, some gods and heroes have bigger chapters than others (Hercules gets a lot, as one might expect).

Overall, the coverage of stories is very good indeed, although personally I prefer Greek to Roman names as (almost always) the origins are Greek. It’s also worth noting there’s no mythological comparison, so this might be better preceding than succeeding the Norse book.

While there’s no detail of the racy stuff (and I think nothing homosexual whatsoever, though I could be wrong) there is still reference to rape and abduction etc. Which is just as well for Jupiter or his chapter would’ve been rather short. In addition to the excellent artwork there’s also a map at the front/back which isn’t strictly needed but can be interesting for the various journeys.

As with the very enjoyable Norse book the writing style presents an engaging amount of detail without wandering into flabby padding territory, and I often read more than intended in a session.

My decision to add this to my sizeable reading pile was very much vindicated, and I recommend this to anyone after classical mythology tales in a single volume.

Thaddeus

Review: Tales of Norse Mythology, by Helen A Guerber

Just finished reading this fantastic book, part of the Barnes & Noble Collectible Editions, and it was exactly what I was after.

On the book itself: it’s a lovely leather-bound hardback with gold edging, a ribbon bookmark, and great illustrations within (mostly paintings but some statue photographs).

The text itself dates back around a century, and I think this is for the better. I’ve read a more recent book on Norse mythology that had some very ‘current day’ interpretation (Ivar the Boneless as literally boneless and with cartilage instead as the Vikings moved away from needing a front rank fighter as leader, disregarding and not even mentioning the more likely alternative that his nickname is based on a mistranslation).

Initially, the book covers the origin of the world according to Norse mythology, which also explains the enmity between gods and giants.

Following this, things take a god-by-god approach, with an interesting order. I would’ve assumed, wrongly, that Odin, Thor, and Loki would be the starting chaps, but instead it’s Odin, Frigga (his wife), and Thor, with Loki well towards the end. Each section covers the god’s divine domain, in both the sense of a physical palace or multiple halls and the aspect of reality for which they were responsible. Minor characters of mythology associated with a god, such as Odin’s wolves Geri and Freki, are mentioned in the relevant god’s chapters, as are major stories (origin and shenanigans).

After the gods we come to general chapters covering giants, dark elves/dwarves, and elves. There are also two chapter’s dedicated to sagas (the Volsungs and the Saga of Frithiof) but there’s no mention of definitively real world characters such as Ubba, Ivar the Boneless etc.

Then we come to the penultimate chapter on Ragnarok, and end with an interesting comparison between Norse and Greek mythology which notes the very large number of similarities.

The book’s very easy to read and it’s often noted when there are multiple names (either minor or major variants) for a god or place. Quotations from other texts are used often as well, to good effect, and the artwork is all good stuff. Much detail is present when it comes to gods, with far more than just the main ladies and gentlemen covered and a lot of information on the most significant ones.

I like this book so much that about halfway through reading it I ordered Classical Mythology by the same author. If I were designing what a great mythology book should be, this is it.

As the cunningly astute of you may have surmised, I heartily recommend this book.

Thaddeus

Review: Four Against Darkness

 

A little while ago I bought Four Against Darkness, which is a solo (solitaire) RPG book, a bit like Dungeons & Dragons in a much lighter way. Although for a single player, there are four members of the party made of various classes chosen by said player (elf, dwarf, halfling, wizard, warrior, etc). NB this can also be played as a light RPG with a party of players.

To play you need the book itself, a pair of d6 (six-sided dice), and some graph paper.

The game procedurally generates dungeons by rolling dice, with the contents of rooms generated the same way. These contents can be foes (large or small), unusual features, or traps. The dungeon is ‘won’ by defeating the final boss (which can appear in any room or corridor) and getting out alive (retracing steps can mean encountering wandering monsters).

Necessarily, characters and combat are way more basic than tabletop RPGs. Most of this is down to dice rolling, although player choice is present in some important ways, such as choosing when your wizard or elf casts spells (which are powerful but you only get a few for a level 1 wizard and one for a level 1 elf). Likewise, you can choose to search an empty room (which can lead to finding useful stuff or being attacked). When to use healing powers/potions/bandages can also be important.

Players can also choose to not immediately attack foes, who may flee or ask for a bribe.

It’ll be slower than this the first time and the number of bosses can vary (the fewest I encountered was one, the most was five), but a game might last around 45 minutes from start to finish. Overall, I like this book and the system a lot. Once you get to grips with the rules things flow pretty smoothly and quirks add a little to the characters/party (my rogue, Rapsnax, has rolled a 1 on every single trap he’s ever tried to disarm, failing every time).

There are a lot of supplementary books, offering specific adventures/dungeons, new classes, and expanding the levels for characters. But I would strongly advocate just buying the first book (around £10) and seeing if it’s to your liking before considering buying some of the many extra books.

Incidentally, RPG book fans should be aware that Lone Wolf is getting a full re-release, with the first few out already. If you’ve got a gap in your collection now (or very soon) is a good time to fill it.

Thaddeus

Review: The Dragonbone Chair, by Tad Williams

I’ve been looking to clear out old books, but some I haven’t read in so long I’m uncertain whether I want to keep or not. And so I re-read The Dragonbone Chair, by Tad Williams, the first entry in the Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn series. The last time I read this was so long ago it predates this blog...

The story focuses almost entirely on Simon, a dogsbody adolescent in the Hayholt castle. He’s a daydreamer and well-natured, if a bit dopey and lazy. Early on, he shifts from being mostly a cleaner to the new apprentice of Doctor Morgenes, who is something of a wizardly chap. When the very elderly king dies and his son takes over, the kingdom seems to have a new lease of life. But then bad weather falls, crops fail, and there are dark undercurrents swirling...

In addition to Simon, we do occasionally get the perspective of others, but it’s very much his story, starting in the humdrum world of the castle and then moving through an interesting world put together by the author. Often, the pace could be faster, and the writing opts for more detail over action most of the time. However, I did find myself reading through this sizeable book (just a little over 900 pages) rapidly, so I’m not sure if it counts as a valid criticism that some fat could be cut.

There’s a nice variety to the peoples of the world, both in varying human kingdoms, and differing races. A sense of history weighs upon things which adds a sense of depth and realism. While there are long periods without action this does mean that when things happen (and they can happen quickly) it has all the more impact.

Another advantage of the slower pace is that it gives time for things to develop. I can’t detail this without spoiling the plot, but suffice to say this also makes the descent of the kingdom feel more gradual and plausible.

Map fans will be pleased that there are multiple cartographic delights, and while I’m less interested in these than many people it’s still a plus. The feeling of the world is akin to that of Middle Earth rather than more recent Martin/Abercrombie style worlds.

Overall, I liked it a lot, which is sort of annoying because I need to clear shelf space. Just started the second, but as it’s similarly massive any review will be some time coming.

Thaddeus

PS For anyone wondering about relative quiet, it’s partly because I’ve been busy with other matters and, in the last week, partly due to computer woe.

Review: A Short History of Europe (by Simon Jenkins)

This book was  gift, and one I was very interested to read. How did it do, covering the history of a continent within just 300 pages?

Very well, in short.

There are some obvious drawbacks. By necessity, such an undertaking has to skimp on details, but this is compensated for by placing in a broader context various events and adding depth through this method rather than by a closer focus.

There are some minor errors or areas of contention (such as describing Aachen as Charlemagne’s capital) but these do not alter the meaning or fundamentally change anything. 

As might be expected due to both proximity and the greater amount of information available there is more page space devoted to more recent events while those of the dim past are quickly covered. By page 100 (a third in) we’re already up to the Renaissance. Much the contents were familiar to me, but quite a lot was new, and the writing style made the history effortless to read and (as happens occasionally) I did deliberately slow down so as to not just blast through it. 

Necessarily, modern politics is contentious and the book (published four years ago) includes the ever so slightly polarising topic of the UK leaving the EU. I was pleased to find the author took what I found to be an objective stance on this, raising both the advantages and disadvantages of how Europe sought to cope after WWII, and the great problem (as I also see it) of a lack of democratic consensus which needs addressing one way or another.

The nature of the beast is such that the pace must be swift and the historical events covered in broad strokes but I nevertheless found it a highly engaging book and well worth reading.

 

Thaddeus

Returning to Tales of the Ketty Jay (four book series), by Chris Wooding

I did an individual ‘returning’ blog of the first entry (Retribution Falls) to see whether that book lived up to my lofty memories, and was delighted it did so.

While also reading other things at the same, I opted to finish off the entire four part series, and it’s fantastic to renew my acquaintance with a story that remains every bit as engaging and fun as it was the first time I read it.

Although this is a series review I’ll do my best to minimise spoilers and just give an overall picture.

The story follows Darian Frey, captain of the Ketty Jay, and his crew of freebooters and misfits. A spot of drunkenness, a dash of drug abuse, and a few very dark secrets pepper the plot. Some of these are critical for personal character stories (every crew member gets at least a little development) or affect the plot itself. There’s a plausible realism to the needling between various characters (poor old Harkins gets teased a lot, and the idiot Pinn is routinely mocked). 

Because the series is only four books there’s enough space for developing the cast and moving along the world (the crew are involved in some pretty significant events) but not so much it ever gets bloated. The story moves along quickly for the most part but isn’t afraid to take its time when called for, and while I wished there had been more to read that’s a sign the author made a smart call rather than returning to the well until it ran dry.

The setting is a fictional, steampunk world in which airships have two engines, one using aerium for lift and another set burning standard fuel for propulsion. The war between Vardia and Samarla ended recently, with the ‘Sammies’ lacking much aerium but otherwise a menacing threat. We learn stuff from inference and plot-relevant conversation which helps paint a much broader world, though details are not info-dumped. Frey and company are mostly Vardians, but his engineer is the taciturn Silo, a former slave from Samarla.

There’s a fair amount of violence, and while there’s frisky time that’s mostly implied and forms a hazy watercolour rather than being explicit. There’s a lot of humour throughout which works very well indeed, sometimes in direct jokes between characters, sometimes by shifting the perspective to an imbecile and offering a moron’s view of the world. All the characters have their flaws, and their talents, and it both humanises them and makes for better interactions and storytelling.

 

In short, I had very fond memories of Tales of the Ketty Jay and the series more than lived up to them. I can’t recommend them enough.

 

I’ve got the four books in physical form but upon checking you can buy the series as a single e-book from Amazon. I’d advocate downloading the sample for that (which should be sizeable) just to check it’s up your street, and then buying it. The last book is just shy of 500 pages, the first is around 450, so the whole lot is around 2,000 pages.

 

Thaddeus

Returning to Retribution Falls: Tales of the Ketty Jay (book one), by Chris Wooding

  

It’s been over a decade since I last read Retribution Falls, reviewed here. I always had fond memories of it, and decided to revisit the series. Would time have changed my mind? 

No. In fact, it was even better than I remembered. Already sinking my teeth heartily into the daring meal of adventure, engaging characters, and a very well put together plot (cunning twists that make sense in the world that’s established), this was perfect when the UK decided to cosplay as Jamaica on a hot day. Unable to work, I spent hours more reading than usual and read three-quarters of the book over a two day period.

It was great, just what I needed, and eminently enjoyable. The steampunk (if I’m referring to the right genre, with lever-action shotguns, airships, and a mix of gas, oil, and electrical lighting) genre is not one I read too much, Emperor’s Edge probably being the only other series that falls into the category but the world is very well realised and comes across effortlessly. Likewise, while Frey, the captain, is the main character every crewman is fleshed out and a couple (Jez and Crake) are especially well-developed.

There’s wry humour amid a serious story, dramatic twists and turns alongside character development. It’s a cracking book and a great start to a fantastic series. It’ll be interesting for me to re-read my own review from some time ago, but right now I’m very glad that, as I try and clear out old books, I hung onto the Tales of the Ketty Jay series. It’s top stuff.

 

Thaddeus

Half A War (Shattered Sea book 3), by Joe Abercrombie

Reading multiple books and waiting until I finish a historical trilogy to review that has led to quiet the hiatus in blogging, so I thought I’d post this before Britain melts on Monday and Tuesday. 

Half A War is the third and final part of Joe Abercrombie’s Shattered Sea trilogy, and I liked it a lot. Those who have bought the first two books need have no worries on the final part proving lacklustre. Recurring characters build on the previous two books, and we have a new POV character in the form of Princess/Queen Skara, whose kingdom gets ruined by the High King and forces her to flee to the nascent alliance between old enemies Vansterland and Gettland. 

The pace moves along at a good rate, neither flitting so rapidly there’s no space to breathe nor being slow and turgid (there is a prolonged period in one place but that fits in with the story and is contrasted by a journey elsewhere). 

Downsides are few. I didn’t especially like one small twist at the end (both obvious and slightly disappointing the way it happened but it doesn’t alter anything significantly). If you prefer more complex stories then the relative simplicity may put you off but personally I found this an enjoyable, engaging, and effortless read that I consumed pretty quickly (not something that’s always the case these days). 

I've kept this pretty brief as it's the third entry so spoilers are more annoying and it's pretty much a buy or avoid for those who've read earlier books in the series.

So, I recommend this but, obviously, after the first two books. Book 2 is reviewed here, and book 1 is reviewed here.

 

For those wondering, I’m currently re-reading The Inheritance of Rome by Chris Wickham, Retribution Falls by Chris Wooding (which I may review if I haven’t already as I read it a long time ago), and the final part in a Seleukid history trilogy by John D. Grainger, which I will review on a collective basis.

Thaddeus

Review: Half the World (Shattered Sea, book 2), by Joe Abercrombie

It’s been a little while since I read the first of these (Half a King), but I did remember enough to be able to follow along most of the characters that appear in this book, set a little way down the line.

The High King’s power waxes ever greater, and lesser kings and kingdoms are none too pleased at having to kneel before another. Yarvi, the protagonist of the first book, is ever-present and the driving force behind a bid to break the power of the High King and forge an alliance. The POV characters, however, are both new. Thorn Bathu is a wild, angry, and rather violent young lady who accidentally kills a man and is saved by Yarvi from execution, while Brand (whose whispered word secures her release) was set to be a warrior but gets ostracised for his deed.

The pair end up with Yarvi, and assorted rapscallions, on a ship destined to cross half the world to try and secure friends for Gettland and prise away allies from the High King. Along the way Thorn gets a serious training in weapons, and Brand discovers the warrior life he dreamt of was not necessarily it was cracked up to be.

As ever with an Abercrombie book it’s very easy to read, with engaging characters, a detailed, compelling world, and a plot that cracks along but also has slower moments to help the pacing and give the characters time to grow. I was reading another book at the same time, but still got through the almost 500 pages pretty rapidly. If you liked the first book you’ll like this, and I’m looking forward to the third.

Thaddeus

Crusader Kings 3: Reading Recommendations

It isn’t long now until the current-gen consoles get some more grand strategy in the form of Paradox’s Crusader Kings 3. As someone into history, and enjoying strategy games coming to consoles, this is right up my street.

The game can start in 867 AD or 1066 AD, and I know a little of British (and, to an extent, European/Near East/North African) history of that period. Fairly poor on the rest, and given the map includes all of Europe, the northern half of the African continent, and most of Asia there’s a lot of new stuff to explore.

If you’re into the backstory and want to learn more, here are some reading recommendations, with links to full reviews of each book indicated.

 

The Norman Conquest, by Marc Morris

This is a fantastic book, and probably my favourite by the historian (I own four of his works). Not only does this detail what goes on in 1066, one of the most important years in British history, it also explains what happened beforehand and for decades afterwards, providing plenty of context.

 

 

 

Byzantium: The Apogee (book 2 in a trilogy), by John Julius Norwich

This entire trilogy is a riveting tale of the Eastern Roman Empire, which was a yawning chasm of ignorance in my understanding of Europe before I read it. All of it is worth checking out, but both start years are covered by a single volume, The Apogee. This covers, unsurprisingly, the high point of the Eastern Roman (also known as the Byzantine) Empire and, of course, their allies and enemies over this period.

 

Viking: The Norse Warrior’s (Unofficial) Manual, by John Haywood

A slightly more lighthearted book this one, and part of a fun yet informative series. To dive into Norse culture and the raiding military antics of the time (covering both start dates), this is one of the shorter and easier reads on the list, but still does much to shine a light on the Vikings and their impact on wider Europe (most notably in Normandy and England, as well as setting up numerous cities in Ireland).

 

Alfred the Great: The Man Who Made England, by Justin Pollard

This biography covers one of England’s most important kings. While technically never ruler of all England, he and his brother halted the seemingly unstoppable Viking advance and drove it back, thereby increasing the power of Wessex. Alfred’s reign started a few years after the earlier start date in CK3, but it’s still a wonderful book and one that goes a long way to painting a picture of a very different England.

 

The Inheritance of Rome: A History of Europe from 400 to 1000, by Chris Wickham

This is easily the broadest book on the list, covering not only Europe but north Africa and parts of the East over a period of centuries. It’s one of the best histories I’ve read and does a great job bridging the gap between the Western Roman world and the medieval era. If you ever want to understand why Europe was the way it was when the earlier start date comes about, look no further.

 

The Anglo-Saxons: A History of the Beginnings of England, by Marc Morris

Another Marc Morris history, this one covers almost the exact same period as Wickham but looks at England and, thus, the Anglo-Saxons. If you want a more specific look at England, this is what you’re after (note it ends right before the Battle of Hastings).

 

Thaddeus

Review: Taiko, by Eiji Yoshikawa

It’s quite some years ago that I read Musashi, by the same author, and I’d wanted Taiko for a long time but (until recently) found it hard to get my hands on a copy. Was the wait worth it?

In short, yes. Which was a relief.

Taiko actually occurs at a very similar time to Musashi, but the two stories do not intersect (nor is there any reason for them to). It follows Hideyoshi (as he became known), one of the three titans of the later Warring States (Sengoku) period in Japan, in the late 16^th century. I was slightly familiar with much of this political/military story from having played Kessen III a lot, but there are of course differences and more detail with this historical novel. Unlike Musashi, Taiko looks at the big picture of Japan as warlords struggle for supremacy while the shogunate falters. It’s a tale of war, treachery, plots, betrayal, and diplomatic cunning.

We join Hideyoshi as a young boy, and his childhood is not idyllic. From little food to a frail father, things don’t get much better in his later childhood. But eventually our protagonist leaves home and flits from one thing to another, gradually learning more about the world.

Hideyoshi is renowned as one of the three major figures of the era, and it’s in the impulsive but brilliant Nobunaga’s service that he earns the right to advance on merit rather than a prestigious bloodline.

Being the star of the show does mean that some of his weaknesses (womanising, primarily) get somewhat light treatment, and I don’t know the history of the era well enough to judge if the demonisation of some of his opponents is justified (Ieyasu, another major figure, is treated with great regard). What’s fascinating is the very different culture to Europe either at the time or in the medieval era (which, in some ways, is more akin to the Warring States period due to the near constant warfare in the 14^th century). By the end of the book my mind was naturally leaping to lines such as “Well, he screwed that up. Time for him to commit ritual suicide.”

Personally, I found Taiko very easy to not only read but become engrossed in, and the long term, detailed little threads (the enmity then friendship with Inuchiyo, for example) added to the story’s depth. One complaint is that the story is abridged (not sure why or by how much) in the English translation.

Musashi seems to be the author’s biggest hit, in the West at least, but I found Taiko to be very enjoyable. It’s a little like a simpler version of Three Kingdoms, with a greater emphasis on taking the reader into the world. At 926 pages or thereabouts it’s a reasonably hefty read, even abridged.

 

Thaddeus

Comparing the Penguin and Oxford editions of Polybius

Quick note: these editions are divided into large sections termed as books, so if I refer to a ‘book’ then that effectively means what most modern people mean by chapter.

It’s been over a decade since I last read Polybius, so I decided the time was right to reacquaint myself with this top chap. But, as I finished the first book, it occurred to me I had two editions and had never compared the two. So, I thought I would. And it turns out there’s actually a lot missing n one and present in another. Because I like Polybius quite a lot it seemed interesting (and maybe useful for anyone pondering which to buy) to compare and contrast the Penguin and Oxford editions of his writings.

Note: the size of each page is identical so the page guide is very useful but not a perfect comparison.

Book	Penguin pages	Oxford pages
I	71	75
II	68	56
III	100	93
IV	15	68
V	12	81
VI	52	44
VII	12	X
VIII	23	X
IX	19	X
X	21	X
XI	6	X
XII	24	42
XIV	13	X
XV	31	X
XVIII	25	X
XXIV	4	X
XXXI	15	X
XXXVI	6	X
XXXIX	2	X

 

So, as the table clearly indicates the first three books and book VI are present in both editions and in roughly the same size. However, books IV and V are vastly expanded upon in the Oxford edition, and Book XII is longer there as well. On the other hand, the Penguin version has multiple books (though often small) that are totally absent from the alternative. In terms of total length (NB this is only the Polybius text not counting introductions and the like) the Penguin version comes in at 519 pages to the 459 of Oxford.

But as any history reader knows, there’s more to text than the, er, text. Penguin employs the use of footnotes, which I far prefer to the endnotes of Oxford (requiring the reader to flit from front to back and so forth). However, Oxford also has textual notes on translations from the Greek which may be helpful for some.

The Penguin edition has maps at the back, covering Iberia, the Alpine route of Hannibal, northern Italy, Italy itself (a two page map including Sicily), Carthage’s territory, northern Greece, and central and southern Greece. There’s also a diagram of a four legion camp, as described by the author, and a chronological table of events.

In the Oxford version, maps are at the front, and cover Italy, Greece (a two page map), and the Mediterranean (a two page map). There’s also a five page glossary at the back explaining Greek and Latin terms, and a chronology (at the front).

Both versions have introductions, select bibliographies, and indices.

Because I was reading the sections that each version missed I saw a little overlap (end of one edition, start of another) and the text of both conveys much the same meaning though the translations so slightly differ. Neither, I would say, is inferior to the other, however.

 

So, what’s missing?

With such a degree of variance I can’t give a categorical list, but I did make notes of some of the chief areas of difference, looking primarily at things I found very interesting but which were only in one translation.

A prime example would be after the end of the First Punic War when the Carthaginians had to deal with rebellious, and savage, mercenaries and were almost undone by the conflict (present at the end of book I in Oxford but not Penguin).

Greek and Macedonian affairs are a mixed bag, with the Social War and early career of Philip V of Macedon absent from Penguin, and later parts of the same king’s reign and doings in Penguin but not Oxford. Another highlight, in book VIII and only in Penguin, is the account of the Romans trying to storm Syracuse only to run into the inventions of Archimedes that would set them back into settling for a prolonged siege.

For the most part, sections absent in one edition come in large lumps, either contiguous sections (such as the end of book I in Oxford) or complete books (as per Penguin). An exception is book XII, which is fragmentary in both but has more parts present in Oxford.

So, which would I recommend? As mentioned, it’s an annoying fact that there are very good sections missing from both, probably adding perhaps 300 pages or so (collectively). I would say it is worth getting both, but if you only want one I would probably go for the Penguin version. The convenience of footnotes is a nice bonus, and it does have the Third Punic War included (to an extent). While the earlier part of Greek and Macedonian events is absent, it has more on the later doings in this sphere. But, if you have the money, time, and inclination, there’s a significant amount of text that is only present in one or the other book.

 

As the cunning among you will have noticed, this is very much a comparison of the two editions and not a review of the general contents (excepting the parts missing from each edition). Concisely, Polybius covers quite a lot of history, the largest section of which is devoted to the Second Punic War in which Hannibal tussled with Rome but Scipio Africanus ultimately proved victorious. The conduct of that war is included, in both versions, down to the Battle of Cannae, with more in the Penguin version. It’s an excellent source for the Second Punic War, though not as complete as Livy’s account.

It’s also quite ironic that Polybius, whose excellent work has been whittled down over the years due to only excerpts being preserved, is still being reduced even in the modern era and, while the knowledge is retained, it still struck me as something of a historic echo of a trend that sadly deprived us of his complete works.

Thaddeus