The October Horse: A Novel of Caesar and Cleopatra [Mass Market Paperback]

The current volume, "The October Horse" , is no exception. The final period of Julius Caesar's life is explored and we are given some interesting insights into his personality and character as well as the events leading up to his untimely death at the hands of Cassius, Brutus and company.

Granted, much of the fine detail about the personalities of various characters is speculation, but constructed, as it is, on a well researched framework of historical facts , it's very convincing speculation.

To keep it short, this book is so absorbing that I purchased it yesterday and was up into the wee hours of the morning finishing it; I couldn't put it down!

If you like historical fiction that doesn't read like a poorly written romance novel, then this book is for you.

Well, over a year has passed and "later" came this week, when I sat down to re-read "The October Horse" and discovered I liked it better than I thought.

"The October Horse" refers to a ceremonial horse race in Rome, whereby the winning horse was sacrificed to Mars and his head made the prize for either the Subura or Via Sacra to gain. The symbol of the October Horse for the Great Man who comes out of nowhere has been used by McCullough to mark Sulla and Caesar. Never has it been more appropriate in Caesar's case than in this book.

Having crossed the Rubicon, beaten Pompey at Pharsalus, and made plans to deal with the remaining "Republicans," Caesar goes to Egypt and there finds that Pompey has been murdered and the Ptolemaic succession is in danger. The young royals are at each other's throats and the Queen, 21-year-old Cleopatra, is desperate to save herself and her country. To do so, she must conceive a child by another God-Monarch. She and Caesar meet for this purpose, and it is curiously charming--hardly the scene of grand seduction out of movies, but sweet in its depiction of the political reality of the event.

Caesar brings stability to Egypt and impregnates Cleopatra, but matters at home in Rome, Africa and the East all require his attention. Cato has decamped to Utica; the "Republicans", led by Labienus and Metellus Scipio, are marshalling their forces for battle; and Rome has sunk into chaos thanks in part to Mark Antony, Caesar's nephew, assumed heir, and bully-at-heart with plenty of scores to settle.

Of course Caesar puts Antony in his place, restores order to Rome, and defeats the Republicans. And in doing so, he ignites the fuse of jealousy and resentment among the men he's pardoned or helped in their careers, men who owe all to him. Out of this comes the conspiracy to take his life, led by poor Brutus and abetted by Antony. But nothing transpires as they plan, and this is where the story picks up and takes off.

McCullough had introduced Caesar's grandnephew Octavius before, in "Caesar's Women," and here she reveals him as a walking enigma. Calm, controlled, sweet and even-tempered, but with a core of iron, Octavius is the last person that anyone--including Antony--would expect to inherit Caesar's wealth and mantle of power. Yet he does, and his transformation from delicate youth to natural political animal is startling as well as convincing. McCullough succeeds because she doesn't make him naive; Octavian is naturally intelligent, observant, ambitious, and burning to push himself to the edge. Used to being overlooked, Octavian learns to use his frail image as a shield, lowering it by degrees to the dismay of those who take the boy for granted.

Brutus is, and remains, a pitiful character in this story. A businessman unwillingly thrust into the military and political arena, Brutus is pushed into the assassination plot against Caesar by Porcia, his true love, whom he finally marries. His brother-in-law Cassius, whose jealousy of Caesar fills his life with bitterness, is a one-track counterpoint to him, a man who only wants glory and a world without anyone who can steal it from him. And Antony comes off as a lout, a bully, and a fool, one who comes to realize that he is in over his head when it comes to power, but who can't bear to let go of it.

The lesser characters are enthralling. Chief among the portrayals is McCullough's depiction of Cato. Easy to despise, Cato's final months reveal the contradictions within the man, the struggle between his true self and the persona he erected for his own protection and edification. I found myself mourning Cato, something I didn't think possible. Porcia, Cato's daughter, gets her one desire--Brutus--and then slowly goes mad from the stress and grief. Then again, if I had Servilia for a mother-in-law, I'd go insane too. Servilia is the most malign female character I've encountered in historical fiction, and her reaction when she discovers that her son and Porcia are wed is a hair-raiser. Likewise, her letter to Brutus detailing Porcia's suicide will have the reader on edge, deciphering along with Brutus the truth of what Servilia has truly done.

There are chunks of exposition in this book, still, and it slows down the last third until the Battle of Philippi. Then it ends in a rush, with an aftermath between Antony and Octavian that leaves no doubt in whose favor the balance has tipped. This scene is tight and powerful; unfortunately, the conclusion of the book is rather melodramatic. It works, but some tightening of the prose would have really given the reader a chill.

So yes, I liked "The October Horse," and I hope McCullough tries her hand at writing more historical fiction. The "Masters of Rome" series is a good one, and surely she'd be able to find more worthies in Roman history to write about.