Jul 27 Caesar by Adrian Goldsworthy The book "Caesar: Life of a Colossus" by Adrian Goldsworthy gives a clear story of Julius Caesar's life and times. It shows how Caesar's choices shaped Rome's change from a republic to a dictatorship. The biography helps readers understand why Caesar is still important 2,000 years later. # Highlights Early in his book, Goldsworthy summarized Caesar by referencing an assessment of Napoleon Bonaparte by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle: “[Napoleon] was a wonderful man—perhaps the most wonderful man who ever lived. What strikes me is the lack of finality in his character. When you make up your mind that he is a complete villain, you come on some noble trait, and then your admiration of this is lost in some act of incredible meanness…” Goldsworthy sees the same duality in Julius Caesar, and he backed it as he developed the story of the man. The story moved at a healthy clip, and I enjoyed understanding how Caesar evolved and how—eventually—his very name became the eponymous title of honor for Rome’s future leaders. Caesar was indeed a colossus, and it is understandable why his reputation has remained so significant 2,000 years later. *Caesar* also lends great insight into Rome as a republic and Rome as a dictatorship, particularly the conditions that led to its transformation. There is little for a concrete record of Caesar’s childhood, yet Goldsworthy gave a helpful background on the conditions and culture of Caesar’s youth. One example early in the book (post-childhood) where Goldsworthy showed historical trends to help understand Caesar was his proclivity for seducing the wives of senators. It was helpful hearing Caesar’s place in the social and power strata as he reached his 30s. As Aedile, Caesar was in charge of entertainment, which gave him great insight into the power of the people’s favor. One of the individuals I knew nothing about beyond his name was Marcus Licinius Crassus. Either he or Pompey the Great held the most wealth in Caesar’s day. Crassus built his fortune in land and wielded tremendous political power. I similarly learned more about Pompey and his duality as both ally and rival of Caesar. Other famous names who I learned or relearned about include Catiline, who attempted to overthrow Rome. Goldsworthy juxtaposed Catiline and Julius Caesar throughout the book. Goldsworthy explained that it was not until Napoleon that history records an individual with a larger number of pitches battles (somewhere between 30-50). Goldsworthy offered insight into Caesar’s gifts as a writer. Unlike Pompey who hired a writer to chronicle his campaigns, Caesar was his own pressman. The great orator, Cicero, stated that all reasonable men would be put off from writing because Caesar had set the standard to an unmatchable level. Caesar made his mark on his troops by never asking of them what he would not do himself. This surprised his men on multiple fronts, not least of which was his slight build and history of seizures. Caesar did not let his feebleness prevent physical endurance while training with and leading his troops. Professor Jeffrey Beneker summarizes what happened in his article The Crossing of the Rubicon and the Outbreak of Civil War in Cicero, Lucan, Plutarch, and Suetonius:” “In January 49 B.C. [After Caesar’s governorship in Gaul, Caesar defied the Roman Senate and led his army south across the Rubicon…In doing so, he ignited a civil war that brought about the destruction of Pompey, his chief political rival, and secured his complete, if temporary, domination of the republican government.” That’s a succinct summary of why “crossing the Rubicon” still means “the point of no return.” Rome’s civil war seems somewhat absurd in hindsight. Goldsworthy noted there were already strains on the republic before Pompey and Caesar’s personal jealousy tore the nation apart. Yet is also highlights how fragile republics are. The poet, Lucan, later wrote, “Caesar could no longer endure a superior, nor Pompey an equal.” The absence of a culture maintaining humility has far-reaching effects. Rome’s citizenry was generally indifferent and unaware of the nation’s civil war. When the state of our country seems particularly dire, I try to better assess how much of the angst relates to the news and commentators versus the general sentiment of the citizenry. Early in the book, Goldsworthy noted that Roman children received an education that focused on “*dignitas, pietas,* and *virtus.*” Goldsworthy emphasized that the English derivatives: “dignity, piety, and virtue” do not carry the same weight as the original terms. *Dignitas* focused on responsibility for men to command respect and honor. Goldsworthy explained this was of value for all Roman citizens, but particularly the aristocracy. *Pietas* focused on respect for the gods, family, parents, laws, and traditions—all with a sense of duty. *Virtus* had a military focus and an expectation of physical bravery, “Confidence, moral courage, and the skills required by both soldier and commander.” I considered these cultural foundations when thinking about how duty shaped Caesar. Julius Caesar certainly desired power and glory but there was a binding principle to *dignitas, pietas,* and *virtus*, which included a duty to personify Roman characteristics. Duty led Caesar to the path he took. It similarly led the men who assassinated Caesar to act. Cultural norms have a prevailing effect on our conduct whether we are aware of it or not. In another book I just read, *Dynamics of Spiritual Life*, the author noted how American virtues of “ambition, enterprise, freedom, [and] self-respect” can devolve into traits of “covetousness, gluttony, egocentric libertarianism, and pride, all of which have been selectively bread into our culture.” It is easy to distort what is good into justification for that which is bad. Caesar’s life is a good example of this effect.